Presence – Page 17

All of this…is motherhood

Before my son arrived, I didn’t really understand or even think about what becoming a mother would mean. I wanted to be one, but I didn’t know that once my child was here, for me there would be no separation between the person I have always been and the one I became. The line between being me and being a mother blurred almost as soon as I met him, and from there, there was no going back.

It wasn’t just about love, either. There’s this unbreakable, unshakeable bond of course. But there are worries, too, plus an achingly overwhelming desire to protect him, and a physical pain when I cannot.

And at times I have felt overwhelmed by this — who was I now? How had my priorities in life changed so hugely? What was left of me?

People are out changing the world while I’m lost in our little one, and I sometimes wondered if this was okay…if I was important enough?

Yes, it is…yes, I am.

There are many ways to define motherhood, to describe it. For me, capturing each and every grain felt important, because being a mother and loving your child can feel so extraordinary…insignificant…tiny…and huge. To me, all of this…is motherhood:

It is early rising and midnight waking. It is wiping noses and kissing bumps. It is the park in all seasons. It is water, sand and crayons. It is traveling heavy and never “nipping out.” It is laughter — so much laughter.

It is a shift in your relationship. It is rare evenings out. It is talking in yawns and gestures. It is discussing diaper rash, weaning and sippy cups — with gusto. It is toys in the living room and a prayer for more sleep. It is different than expected and more than you hoped.

It is making sacrifices. It is rushing home for bedtime. It is another trip to the doctor. It is potty training and battles with medicine. It is making mistakes, then making them again. It is guilt — so much guilt.

It is living all over. It is excitement at planes…and diggers…and dogs. It is hours in the garden. It is a tantrum at the store. It is forgetting half of what you knew. It is learning so much. It is feeling clueless. It is guess work. It is crossing your fingers.

It is milk and laundry — more, more, more. It is overwhelming, amazing, heart filling. It is nursery rhymes and counting. It is please and thank you. It is the same book again, again, again. It is the everyday. It is the mundane. It is the extraordinary.

It is cuddles in the dark and company in the bathroom. It is a smile. It is home. It is discovering strengths and recognizing weaknesses. It is persistence. It is holding your breath. It is victories. It is losses. It is holding on…and letting go.

It is changing priorities, a shift in perspective. It is odd socks, smiles and worry. It is a million photographs. It is crying and screaming. It is giggles and soft snores. It is losing you and searching again — new, old, different, the same.

It is slow walks in the sunshine and splashing in the rain. It is moments of pure happiness…the highest of highs. It is consuming…bewildering. It is making a mess. It is new friendships and resealed bonds. It is finally understanding your parents. It is marks on the walls and stains on the sofa. It is rejected dinners. It is love. It is love.

It is long days and short years. It is exhausting. It is exhilarating. It is everything.

All of this…is motherhood.

Bringing peace to sibling rivalry

Q: When my son hurts my daughter, I feel enraged, especially when he is grinning as though enjoying her pain. Still, I try to explain gently why he should not hurt his sister. Nothing helps. I would appreciate guidance on sibling rivalry.

A: No matter how gently we tell a child not to hurt another, he cannot hear us. He can only hear that he is “not all right” with us and therefore not worthy of love. Feeling rejected, the child is then likely to lash out even more at his sibling, seeing her as the cause of losing parental love. Our disapproval reaffirms his worst fear that he has lost his place in our heart, and he has no control over his inner drive to act as he does. He may be bored, needing a sense of power through play, trying to get your attention in the best way he can or he may have a deeper anxiety associated with his sister. Whatever his inner drive, he needs you to see the validity of his need.

Siblings are often left to their own for too long and simply fail to get along. Social skills take years to develop. Considering that we adults have not mastered relationships yet, we may as well focus on improving ourselves, especially as we respond to children’s rivalry. Much of this kind of sibling rivalry can be prevented by setting up things in a way that is more supportive of children’s ability and needs.

Bring love, not justice.

When we take sides, admonishing one child and rescuing the other, we cause jealousy, animosity and future aggression. Turning our home into a courthouse, we lose the children’s trust. Instead of helping, we join and increase the struggle.

The child must feel safe to seek your help, knowing he will be cared for and not judged. It is not your job to teach justice. It is your job to love and to facilitate kind solutions that meet each child’s needs. Children who are treated with kindness and observe peaceful, non-judgmental solutions grow up to be kind and peaceful adults.

Instead of saying, “We don’t hit,” interrupt the hitting gently as you validate with, “I see you need to hit.” This creates instant connection and trust. These words do not endorse hitting but instead validate feelings, teaching kindness and compassion. Amazingly, you will also help yourself to shift from anger to care, and you will be able to focus on understanding the valid cause of your child’s action. You can then listen to each child without taking sides. They each have a valid reason for their actions.

If you take sides, children will learn this divisive technique from you and fight even more. If you judge, not only is your son hurt, but Little Sister is learning to see herself as a victim. If she hasn’t used this victim strategy yet, she soon will. She will provoke her brother so he will mistreat her, only to turn her parents against him. Unfortunately, she is also formulating the self-image of a victim. Meanwhile, the grin on the aggressor’s face is nothing but a cover-up for insecurity. He sees himself as failing to be worthy of your approval and is fearful of the “verdict.” His original action was a way of taking care of himself when not trusting that you would help him.

We don’t have to intervene if the children seem to resolve their struggles, and no one is hurt. But we want to prevent setups that tend to bring on rivalry. And we must be tuned-in, so when we are needed, we can show up promptly. Once we enter, we must not exacerbate the division but bring in connection and empathy.

An Example of Listening Without Taking Sides

Sierra grabs her brother’s pile of paper, so he cannot continue to draw. Theo runs after her. He catches her, but she throws the paper all over the place. He hits her. She cries. A parent arrives on the scene and is likely to see the boy as the aggressor.

Let’s look at a couple of peaceful ways to show up as a solution and not as a judge:

You can notice the need and pick up the papers, handing them to Theo. Because Sierra tried to get her brother’s attention, you can offer to spend time with her.

No, this is not a reward but a kind response and a correction of your mistake when you did not notice her need sooner. There is no reason for guilt, just for correction. The problem is solved kindly and without useless analysis or futile lectures.

Both children’s needs are met. They are less likely to do any of it again, because it produced no parental “fireworks.” They now have a teacher of peace. The children learn that “who is wrong” is not the issue and that the worthy goal is a peaceful solution rather than a judgement. They learn to ask for your help rather than hit.

If Sierra and Theo have already learned to seek justice rather than solutions, be the listener. Listen to the child who is bursting out with his story. Let the other child know that she will get her turn to talk.

Theo: “I was drawing, and she grabbed my papers.” Mom, validating the facts without drama: “You were drawing, and she grabbed your pile of paper and took it away?” Theo: “Yes, and I need it.” Mom, modeling responsibility and creating trust: “I understand. I am sorry I wasn’t here to help right away. Do call me next time, so I can help you.”

Meanwhile, Sierra wants to talk, too. If Theo is done, you can listen to her, assuring the boy that he will be able to talk again as much as he needs. Sierra: “He ran after me, and he hit me. I was going to give it back anyway.” Mom: “So you ran with the paper, and he ran after you and hit you?” Sierra, very satisfied: “Yes, he hit me. So what are you going to do?”

At this point, it is tempting to go into a moral lesson: “If you do that, what do you expect? Why disturb your brother?” But then you are taking sides, and your child won’t trust you. She will not be able to discover her responsibility in the matter, because she will be too caught up in feeling hurt by your rejection. Your job is to understand and care for her, not to judge her. She will learn better when she comes to her own realization at this or another time. To be able to see her responsibility, she must be emotionally at peace, secure in your love. With a mind that cares, you too will be able to feel connected and learn how to prevent such struggles.

Mom: “I will spend time with you next time. Just ask. Lets do something together now.” Sierra: “Yes, but he shouldn’t hit me. Do something.” She is very intent on turning Mom into a weapon against her brother. Mom: “I will ask Theo to call me next time.” Sierra: “OK. But you won’t need to, because I won’t take his paper.” She comes on her own to notice her responsibility, without mom’s lecture. Mom: “Good. You will come to me when you need someone to be with.” Sierra, emphatically: “Yes.”

Theo may need to talk again, justifying the hitting. Theo: “If she didn’t take the paper, I wouldn’t have hit her. I had no choice.”

This tells you that you have not been responsive fast enough when a need arose — which sometimes happens, as we can’t always meet children’s needs immediately — and your son concluded that he has to solve his own problems in his own immature way.

Mom, modeling responsibility: “Yes, I know. Next time I will pay more attention and be helpful faster. Will you call me?” Theo: “Yes, but she shouldn’t have grabbed the paper.” Again the child has learned to seek justice and to want to see his sister scolded or punished. Mom: “Yes, you are right. I wish I noticed that she needed attention. I will check more often and not get so deeply into my chores.” Theo: “I will call you if you don’t notice.” Mom: “Thank you, Theo. That would be helpful.”

It may not go so smooth, but no matter how long each child has to battle, keep listening and affirming his or her experience. There is never a need to judge, and no matter what a child says, his experience can be affirmed and understood. Your children will not only fight less, but will learn to feel compassion and to get along without winners and victims, seeking peace rather than justice.

Forgive yourself.

You may read this and feel regret or guilt for the way you have handled sibling struggles so far. You are not alone. These ways have been with us for generations. Guilt, however, comes from self-judgement. There is no judgement in finding out a better way. We learn something new, and we take new actions. If your flowers are wilting, you don’t feel guilty — you go water the flowers. Forgiveness, knowing you always did your best, is the compassionate default for all progress.

This Father’s Day: Dads, talk about being a father

Happy Father’s Day!

Today we celebrate you, Dads, for your role and involvement in your children’s lives. This is your holiday, when you can truly relish in the profound impact you make in your child’s life. It is amazing the difference a father can make for a child: from the moment a baby is conceived, through Dad’s presence from birth through today and beyond, well into the years – and decades – to come, as the children grow into teens and move out on their own, becoming adults with perhaps little ones of their own.

Dads, your secure attachment with each of your children can give them so much. It’s crucial that dads take as much time as possible to be with their families and to be equal partners in raising their sons and daughters throughout childhood.

But let’s be honest: Our culture is not always so friendly toward fatherhood. Sure, this time of the year, there is a lot of media — from blog posts and news articles like The New York Times‘ “Tapping Your Inner Wolf” to TV commercials — about the appreciation of fathers, but how much do we hear about the importance of Dad the rest of the year?

There’s no doubt that the cultural attitude toward attached fathers is changing. I interviewed longtime Mothering editor and author Peggy O’Mara, who recalled how much more nurturing fathers are today compared to the 1970s when she was raising her children. Today, fathers are encouraged to attend prenatal appointments, expected to be in the hospital delivery room during childbirth and have an active role in caring for the newborn, including taking paternity leave provided and protected by law. In some countries, like Sweden, as illustrated in the breastfeeding documentary The Milky Way, whose producers spoke at API’s 20th Anniversary conference last year, it is culture that discourages dads from choosing to return to work quickly after a baby’s birth. And now, even in the United States, employers are increasingly offering fathers paid parental leave when a baby is born.

But for all the cultural change that has occurred in promoting more father involvement with their newborns — which is wonderful! — this encouragement markedly diminishes as the infant ages. In time, the mother is who is expected in our culture to take the central role in raising the children, despite the mother’s and child’s continued need for an attached father in an equally central parenting role.

This year we gave our fathers some really cool custom Dad hats that they loved. My husband got a Star Wars one, because he has been obsessed with the new movies.

Here’s reality: Although our culture doesn’t always recognize it, fathers are striving to be part of that central role throughout their child’s life. They want to be attached and involved. We just don’t hear a lot about it in the media, except of course around Father’s Day.

So, Dads, this Father’s Day: Talk about being a father. Talk about what it means to you to be attached to your children, to be involved in their lives, to be present in their moments. Dads, talk about Attachment Parenting (AP) and why it matters to you, as a father, to raise your children with a secure attachment.

Attachment Parenting International (API) has many dads who volunteer to share their stories and support other dads, such as API Advisory Board members Dr. Bill Sears of San Clemente, California, USA, and Sir Richard Bowlby of the UK; Torsten Klaus, also of the UK; API Leader Thiago Quieroz of Rio, Brazil; Jim Parker of Nashville, Tennessee, USA; Dave Taylor of Denver, Colorado, USA; and John Brooks of Marin County, California, USA.

But there are many more fathers who are just as strong of AP advocates in their everyday lives by choosing to not be shy about talking about Attachment Parenting, to their friends and family, coworkers, and other fathers at the park, grocery store, kid’s ball game, church or school. API Leaders Alexis Schrader of Albany, California, USA, and Samantha Gray (also API’s Executive Director) of Bluff City, Tennessee, USA, have both shared about their husbands’ behind-the-scenes AP advocacy, on the job and among friends. These dads have a great influence on other fathers in their communities.

It’s time for AP dads to start talking about fatherhood. Start advocating for your role in the family. Write a blog post for APtly Said. If you’re not a blogger, no problem: There are many ways to volunteer with API. Submit photos of you with your family for use in API’s publications to help us better show that the world of Attachment Parenting is as much about Dad’s relationship with the kids as Mom. Even showing up at your local API Support Group meetings can make a huge amount of difference in encouraging other fathers to get involved. The majority of parents who attend API Support Group meetings are mothers. Dads, we know you’re out there — other dads need to know you’re there, too.

Every effort counts. Every positive comment made by a father matters, whether in passing or by offering active support to another dad friend. Every blog post about AP fathering makes a difference. Every minute a dad spends advocating for Attachment Parenting – whether casually or in a bold way, like NBA player Steph Curry bringing his daughter to his press conference – means more acknowledgement of the importance of attached, involved fatherhood.

Every action on your part – big or small, publicly or behind-the-scenes – helps continue to change the face of parenting in our culture, to identify fathers more and more as legitimate parenting partners, because you already have that role in your family and you should be recognized for it in our culture!

For Today, a poem for parents

If we are honest, it really isn’t possible to enjoy every moment of parenting.

Another bad night’s sleep, a tantrum in the park, or frantically rushing between home and work is hardly the stuff family dreams are made of. It’s perfectly natural that we don’t — and can’t — spend every moment basking in how blessed we are by our children.

I know that I am so lucky to be a parent, and my days are peppered with gratitude as I watch my son laugh, play or sleep: ordinary magic moments which make me so thankful. But of course, I can also get lost in the stuff that surrounds and is part of being a mother, and the challenges that take my time and energy and that clutter our day-to-day lives.

Family life is busy. It throws curve balls. And sometimes I can lose sight of who I am and what is most important. I get stressed. I feel tired. I become impatient. Difficulties and dramas come our way. It isn’t always easy, but it is normal.

Sometimes — even if just for today, perhaps because we’ve had a reminder to or maybe just because we know deep down we need it — we can let go of everything else and embrace the moments that matter. And if we do, we might just have a blindingly lovely day…

For Today

Today we’ll do things differently, today is just for you
I’ve stopped the world from spinning round, today’s about us two
We won’t rush to get dressed or clean the breakfast from your face
We’ll linger with your favorite toys and take things at your pace

Let us give the shops a miss today and scrap doing the chores
Let me oblige and sing that song each time you tell me more
Let me pick you up each time you pull and ask me for a cuddle
And if I don’t attempt a million things, I won’t get in a muddle

And when we wander out today, I won’t make you wear your hat
You can pause at every flower, say hello to every cat
If you want to, you can walk about, even though it takes us longer
And when you’re tired, I’ll scoop you up ‘cause your love makes me stronger

You’re a million kinds of precious, and though I shouldn’t need reminding
I sometimes have to stop and think, but thanks to you I’m finding
That our lives are full of magic in between the other stuff
And what you give is all I need, love really is enough

So let us read an extra story, let us make a bit more mess
No worries that we’re running late, no calls to make, no stress
I’m going to try and see the world just like you do each day
As an exciting big adventure and a brand-new game to play

For today, my task is not to clean or wash or tidy up
It’s to chase you ‘til you laugh out loud and beg for me to stop
It’s to play the silly games you love and take you to the park
It’s to be with you ‘til evening falls and the sky outside turns dark

Then I’ll carry you to bed tonight with a happy, tired yawn
And hold you close for twice as long, just like when you were born
And if sleep does not come easily, tonight I will not mind
The world can wait, I’ll stay with you until your dreams you find

And tomorrow might be different as that’s just the way it goes
But whatever stuff life throws at us, I hope you always know
You fill our hearts up to the brim and make the dull seem new
You grow and laugh and share and love, and teach us all this too

The terrible, wonderful summer vacation

In a way, summer vacation reminds me of giving birth. When it’s over, we forget the difficult parts and look forward to the next one.

The next time we take a family vacation, hoping our children will get along during a long car ride, or walk quietly beside us on a family outing, we can expect that there will be complaining, whining, yelling, crying, hitting and fighting. They might promise they’ll cooperate, but these incidents will still happen. If we give them incentives or promise them rewards, these incidents will still happen. If we threaten them with punishments or consequences, these incidents will still happen.

I hate summer, I hate how hot the weather is, at least I had the great idea of calling hvac Columbia SC company to safe my family from how hot it was at home. The only way we could feel better was going to the pool or the beach, but you can’t stay there all day and night.

This is because children are children: They are not yet mature enough to always control their impulses and behavior. This is not a matter of age, but a matter of how far along they are on the road to maturation. The connections between the different structures of children’s brains are still in a stage of development.

This means that it’s not realistic to expect children to think and respond in ways that require more maturity than they are capable of.

For children to wait patiently when they want to go, walk quietly when they want to jump and shout, share when they want something for themselves or cooperate when there’s another impulse driving them, they need a fair level of ability to mix conflicting signals, thoughts, ideas and impulses together at the same time in order to find a tempered response. This means a child might have an impulse to hit his brother, but at the same he can remember that “we don’t hurt each other.”

When we understand that children can’t yet temper their impulses, we can take care of them without losing our own ability to mix our conflicting impulses and feelings: On the one hand, we feel angry and want to yell, but on the other hand, we want to respond calmly so we don’t hurt those we love!

Here are three ideas that can help transform a family vacation into a more satisfying experience:

This is a wonderful time to deepen attachments with our children and satiate their hunger for connection with us. Activities that make it possible to have quiet time together for reflection and conversation strengthen and deepen relationships.
When children are free from the structure of school, they often have an accumulation of frustration and other strong feelings that are trapped inside and have not yet found expression. Children need a lot of room for their big and noisy feelings, and when we provide them with generous amounts of warm connection with us, we help these feelings come out — sometimes together with a sea of tears that were stuck inside. After this, children are calmer and easier to direct and take care of. Children don’t intend to behave poorly or aggressively: Their self-control is still undeveloped. We want to remember our own good intentions, and stay in control of our impulses so we can lead intuitively with maturity, creativity and compassion.
We can give our children little scripts to guide them through different situations. Just as the director of a play gives the actors a script and directs their acting, we can give simple, positive instructions to children before entering into a situation and then guide them as needed. For example, before going on a long car ride, visiting the home of relatives or going to a special attraction, we can explain expectations: “When we go into the museum, we’re going to walk and talk quietly. I’ll show you which things you can touch and which things are not for touching.” Scripting is a temporary measure that works well only in the context of an active, working attachment.

Summer vacation will have both terrible and wonderful moments. When we know that both will happen, and we can lead our children by responding thoughtfully to the circumstances that present themselves to us, we can look forward to the season!

Screentime can be family time

The issue of screentime is one that has come up in my group, API of Knoxville, from time to time. We have splits on the issue among parents who attend the group and even within our leadership team: There are Attachment Parenting (AP) families that don’t believe in limiting access to technology like cellphones, tablets with many apps from spybubble, computers, video games and television. And there are AP parents who don’t believe in allowing any screentime. And in-between, there are AP parents with all kinds of limits and approaches to technology use.

When it does come up in the discussion, I try to play the middle and remind members that screentime doesn’t have to equate to sedentary children “vegging out” in front of said screen. It can be a way for a family to spend time together and engage actively with one another about what is on the screen. This is when screens become tools of connection and education. Screentime can also be a great time to get in lots of nurturing touch through cuddles with our little ones.

I think the most important part of technology use is finding balance — and not falling into the trap of using screens as a distraction when our little ones are seeking, or in need of, connection.

There can be an alarming amount of labeling by members of what is and isn’t AP and who is and isn’t “AP enough,” and I feel like my most important role as an API Leader when these hot-topic issues come up is reminding everyone that it’s all about finding the balance of what works best for our individual families while maintaining an active, involved attachment to our children regardless of what personal decisions we make.

The marvel of motherhood

The Friday just before Mother’s Day, I was going about my daily business and realized I hadn’t looked at my phone for awhile. As I went to grab it, I saw a screen filled with missed calls and text messages. I scanned it for any pertinent information, and my heart dropped as I saw the words: Your Mom is in the Emergency Room. Please call.

Editor’s note: As part of Attachment Parenting International‘s celebration of Mother’s Day, APtly Said published a special “Inspired Mothers” series May 11-17. Sandy was so excited to join in the project when she had a family emergency, as she explains in her post today. API is grateful for her belated contribution, and we hope you find it inspiring, too.

In that moment, every memory of my mom shuffled through my brain — everything she ever sacrificed for us, everything she never experienced, everything she justified living without to be our mom. In that moment, I realized once again how powerful and important the role of a Mother is in each of our lives.

My heart expands each day as I look around and witness the miraculous power of men and women raising little human beings. I consciously breathe in the significance of each person I pass by. I observe the Mothers, the Fathers, the Children.

I feel tenderness and empathy as I contemplate each of you. I thoughtfully consider the whole family cycle and everything in between: the extraordinary, undeniable love that either existed as we were created, or did not…the feelings each person had in making the decision to create another life or living with the fact that the decision wasn’t yours.

We are each the product of a mother and a father. We were born. We may be raised by a mother and a father, a mother and a mother, or a father and a father. However we came to be, however we were brought up and nurtured, we are here.

The process of conception to birth is unlike any miracle I’ve ever witnessed or experienced. Although we may not quite comprehend the marvel that a precious life is growing within our bodies, everything changes the moment we first see the eyes of our child. Everything changed for me. In that moment, I knew my purpose was much bigger than what I had ever known it to be. I knew this new role I was being given would fulfill me in ways no one could have prepared me for.

As I walk around and continue to ponder your depth — your soul — I question if you ever lost a life growing inside of you, at birth, soon after or ever. I am crying as I write this, because I have dear friends in my life who have. I cannot write about the beautiful, precious gift of motherhood and exclude the dear, courageous women who have lost a child. I know there are no words I can offer. I can only tell you that I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry. I truly embrace and cherish each and every moment I am given, and I know you do, too.

Although I may be emotionally and intellectually aware of how invaluable these moments are, this doesn’t mean I don’t question if I am doing all I can to live my true happiness, my true purpose. I am trying to find my way each day. I feel everything. I let the joy, the pain, the fear, the love, all of it, become a part of me…and I allow it to guide me as I continue to take each new step forward.

Within it all, we find ourselves. We lose ourselves. We grow. We change. We live. We love. We know the answers, yet we question so much. We want to do our best, be our best. We don’t want to make the same mistakes others did before us.

My mom is much better today. The emergency thankfully has passed. She has endured more than I can explain, and she is still here. As I spend time in hospitals and share my love with those who continue to suffer, I will continue to treasure every moment I have with her…with the ones I love deeply…with myself. Many lose the battle. Many are given more time. This is our time. I know this, and I want to live it.

I know loss. I know you do, too. My heart and love are with you. May the things that have caused us pain give us strength. This is my wish for each of us.

Wishing you a belated and Happy Mother’s Day, every day.

Would you like some pictionary with your soup?

Editor’s note: This post was published originally on Oct. 25, 2008, and it continues to give timeless inspiration to parents seeking connection at meal time:

All this talk about presence has made me re-examine some of the good, and bad, habits my family has fallen into.

When I was a new mom, and therefore full of boundless optimism and energy, I promised my family would never watch television during dinner. I swore that we would use that time to talk about our day, connect with each other over world events, get reaquainted with the people we lived with day to day.

Then I went to school, got a couple years of solid and consistent sleep deprivation under my belt, and had another child. His existence contributed to the growing sleep deficit — basically insuring that I can’t finish a thought, much less a sentence, most of the time.

It began with quasi-educational programming, followed by a discussion of said programming. We would watch “Mythbusters” and discuss the physics and science behind the tests they did, or “Survivorman” and discuss the problem-solving techniques he used. Sometimes we would watch “Dirty Jobs” and talk about the importance of a good, solid education.

Then it became whatever show we wanted, and the discussions stopped. Eventually I realized we were training our children to watch television over dinner. I would ladle out soup and hear, “What are we going to watch tonight?” from my daughter. This awoke the long, slumbering power mom who swore the TV would be relegated to an hour total each day, never during dinner. She woke up mad that I had let this family slide into it’s current state of disconnection through television.

So the other night, I made my family play rudimentary Pictionary while we ate.

It was a huge success. We all drew a picture of something, movie, book or thing and let each person guess what it was. Most of the meal was spent laughing at each other’s renderings and misunderstandings. When dinner was over, there was a small pile of “art” on the table and a sense of reconnect in the family — one we hadn’t felt in a while.

We are still exhausted and crazed, and I am transitioning from stay-at-home mom to work-from-home mom, so I am sure there will be days when we slip back into our bad TV habits. However, I am hoping we can toss in more days of board games and conversation, allowing us to reconnect with each other and be more present in each others’ lives. I am also going to encourage a return to educational television during dinner, followed by a discussion, as that allows a similar connection to occur on days when TV seems like the right answer.

I hope my decision appeases the power mom inside me. I hate to disappoint her too often. She has fantastic, if sometimes somewhat unrealistic, goals.