5 Ways to Be a Better Parent
Get More Sleep- Eat Healthy Foods
- Remember to Ask Yourself What You Need and Want
- Schedule Social Time with Other Adults
- Include Personal Quiet Time in Your Schedule
“But wait a minute, Julia, this whole list is about me. I thought you were going to tell me how to be a better parent? Everything you mentioned is about taking care of me.”
Yes, yes it is. Because I believe you are exhausted, overwhelmed and starved for time loving and taking care of you. I believe you are already a great parent. I believe you love your children and know how to care for them in almost every situation, or that you can figure it out when you need to. I believe it can all be better, and I believe when you are more you, you will be a better parent. You will be a better person. You will be a better you. Your kids need YOU. (If you need more convincing that these steps will make you a better parent, I’ve got more on that.) Continue reading → 5 Ways to Be a Better Parent
They sense the intrusion. In the summer, even with some planned activities and the occasional week at soccer camp, my kids have a lot of time to CHOOSE, to choose what they want to do, to choose how long they want to do it, and, until the end of the day, to choose when to stop. Their essential selves, the part that is most clearly them, that is the most clear expression of their unique wonderfulness, have 10 weeks to really get down. There are still obligations and chores, but they are sprinkled throughout the day rather than this giant chunk that the school day imposes. Don’t get me wrong; there are lots of things that go on during the school day that I think my kids would choose to do if given the choice, but they are clear on the fact that if they wish to do well in school, the activity in question is not a choice and as such, they are in some ways, leaving their essential selves behind. They are obeying their social selves every time they learn a new rule at school. They are obeying their social selves every time they sit still when they are feeling oh so itchy and restless. They are obeying their social selves when they refrain from getting water during math and when they wait until recess to run. And they resent it. 
I’m pretty sure I complained a few weeks ago when I had to take my kids shopping for school supplies. I imagine those of you who know me well would happily confirm that with enthusiasm. The lists of specific items kill me, but that’s a whole bugaboo that I don’t want to get into. The truth about school supplies is that I LOVE THEM. I love all of them. I love a freshly sharpened pencil. I love an empty composition book; a stack of lined paper is even better. A clean binder full of clean paper with a pen tucked in the pocket – bestill my low blood pressure driven but still definitely beating heart. Everything seems so fresh and new, so full of possibility, so ready for magical learning and change.
I’ve had a rough year in the garden. That’s not quite accurate. I’ve actually had a run of bad years in my garden. Tomato stealing squirrels, tomato plant chewing deer, and disease-ridden cucumbers have been the story for a while now. In response, I’ve done what I can.
I love you.
What feelings and thoughts would you have room for if you set aside all the judgments?
In last night’s dream, for the first time in my adult life, when faced with the threat of attack, I yelled at my attacker with a clear assertive “No!” And I didn’t stop there. I added a sentence or two clearly defining my space and the need for him to stay out of it. And then, in further unprecedented steps, as I moved away from the attacker, who was seemingly stunned by my verbal superpowers, I called out clearly and loudly for help. I had never even tried to call for help in the old version of this dream. 
The specifics of the conversation are not particularly important, but the thrust of it was that these folks were seriously tired. Like super duper getting in the way of other things tired. As we talked, it became clear to me that while being tired was a problem, the bigger problem was what being tired meant to them. They each interpreted their tiredness in different ways, but both saw the fatigue as being indicative of some combination of personal flaw and bad behavior. I share this example with you because it is the perfect example of the way that our thoughts can take a simple biological fact and hold us hostage. 
I’ve just had the most amazing week. During this amazing week, I heard a lot of great music, saw my children grow and stretch in ways I’ve only dreamed about, spent precious time with my parents, and I learned so so much. And yet in all of the amazing things I heard and thought about this week, one phrase keeps coming back to me. One little phrase keeps pushing its way through the rest and demanding my attention: “the holiness of wholeness.” Wow.
“It’s about the journey, not the destination.”
Yesterday I had to have some blood drawn. OK, I had to have a lot of blood drawn for a variety of annoying tests. While I’m not a fan of needles, I am not phobic about the whole thing. I waited and was called back by an earnest young woman who indicated to me that she was a student and asked if it was okay if she drew my blood… Ugh.