Category: General Interest

The Man in The Yellow Hat Exemplifies Positive Discipline

A few of my parent friends have pointed out that as much as their kids enjoy watching the PBS show “Curious George”, George always gets into trouble (makes a mess, does something wrong, doesn’t stay where he’s supposed to, etc…) and nothing ever happens to him for it.  He never gets punished or has a privilege taken away or a consequence imposed for his actions. This may bother some parents about “Curious George,” saying that the show is not setting a good example for kids about what what should happen in the face of misbehavior, but I happen to think it’s a great example for parents.

Curious George does exactly what he’s supposed to do for his age and development (and species)!  By nature and by name, he is curious.  He explores his world fully and completely. This is his job as a young, continually developing little person, er, monkey. This is why my kids love the show–they relate so well to George’s genuinely curious nature and all of the honest mistakes that ensue. But, as a parent, what I find most refreshing about “Curious George” is The Man in the Yellow Hat.

The Man in the Yellow Hat never punishes George for his mistakes. He is more concerned with solving the problem. The man helps George put things away, fix things that broke, apologize to people who were involved in any indiscretions, and generally restore order.

The Man in the Yellow Hat doesn’t force George to apologize. Of course, George can’t talk, so maybe that’s why! But George’s body language and expression, along with his cooperation in fixing the problem, is more meaningful than a forced “Sor-ry,” anyway. People can see his remorse and feel his desire to set things right again. George’s inability to speak provides an unwitting platform for making genuine apologies.

The Man in the Yellow Hat will give a heartfelt apology on George’s behalf.  And when he does, the apologizee says it’s not necessary. The mistake has been fixed, and they enjoyed George’s authenticity–his curious nature–and appreciated his spirit. The characters in this show are understanding of George’s developmental capabilities.

The Man in the Yellow Hat doesn’t put fear into George. George is never afraid of what The Man will do or say to him when he finds out  what happened while he was gone. George is able to present his problem to The Man and know that he will get help in return.

Now, if only The Man in the Yellow Hat would learn not to leave George unsupervised as often as he does…

Miscarriage – The Silent Empty Box

To be filled with life is something.  To be pregnant with a growing little miracle of science and nature in your belly is beautiful.  To lose a pregnancy is sad.  The feeling is surrounded with so many emotions.  Guilt, loss, nothing, emptiness, aching, breaking, bending into shadows dark.  I had to take a break today and submerge myself in some creative work.  I wanted to shake this feeling of empty.  Shake it loose from the empty box it resides in now.  Like a box with nothing inside.  Just invisible strings connecting back to my heart.  I don’t know how to put it in words so I am not going to worry about using dazzling adverbs or catchy phrases, but they may just happen to come out that way.  I just want to write a post about it.

There are so many women out there feeling this same feeling today, yesterday, tomorrow.  It covers me like a vine nobody can see.  Much like a bean pole vine grasping to anything its tendril can reach.

Photo by memomuse – “Bean Pole Vines in My Garden”

Something sturdy, mounted in dirt, standing upright.  This vine of sadness can’t grasp onto nothing.  So I grasp and curl around words.  Around people I trust.  Around acknowledgement that it happened. That’s its over. That I need to grieve.

As my mind curls and bends in thoughts of what may have been, what was just yesterday, before the bleeding started, before the sadness erupted.  Before yesterday, I was cocooning into a ball of beauty, growing inside, feelings of joy and elation surrounded me.  Flowers and fruits of joy rippled in the sun.

“Layers of Light” – Photo by memomuse Layers of light echoed over me, through me, around me, spinning into thick spidery webs.  Now there is nothing.  Just this box of invisible sadness nobody can see with the naked eye.

Long story short – I went to visit my dying mother in Colorado three weeks ago.  The night before I left, my husband and I made love.  I went home to Wyoming and Colorado where I feel the most alive and vibrant, for it is home and my place on this earth.  I have been transplanted to North Carolina and I am trying to make the most of it.  But back home, where I come from, just as the Kenny Chesney song sings, I love it there.  On this journey where I thought I was going to say goodbye to my mother, I was surrounded by a land that knows me.  That I know.  That I love.  This journey home, this journey to say goodbye, something magical happened.  We conceived a baby.  A miracle.  A seed that sprouted into life.  I found out last week I was pregnant.  I took three home pregnancy tests and was more surprised with each positive test, as I have struggled with infertility in the past.  My son is just thirteen months old.  We were not actively trying to get pregnant.  So it was a surprise to find out we were pregnant without even a blink of the eye, without a blink of the heart.

I took a home pregnancy test on Monday, then Wednesday, and then Saturday.  All positive.  The faint blue line got thicker with each test.  I took a urine test at the doctor on Monday and they told me to come back in a week because it was, not without a doubt, positive, but there was a shadow line.  So I took two more home tests that week, Wednesday and Saturday.  And sure enough, positive.  I started to feel the pregnancy symptoms, fatigue and drop to the floor tired.

I went in to take another urine test at the doctor yesterday,  feeling it wasn’t needed, feeling pregnant, feeling sure a life was growing and thriving inside me.  I didn’t need a doctor or lab technician to tell me I was pregnant.  Something bigger happened – a life bloomed from my journey to say goodbye to my mother.  How serendipitous.  How miraculous.  How joyous. It made the fact that my mother is dying a soft sleeve to rest on.  To rejoice on.  I was sure this baby was a girl and I was going to name her Eleanor Elizabeth and call her Ellie Elizabeth.

My mom, Elizabeth, and me as a baby

Elizabeth, named after my mother. I had visions of her soft curls, her big blue eyes, her big heart.

When I took the test at the doctor just yesterday, I noticed some blood.  Frightened, I told the nurse.  Then the results from the lab technician came in.  The test was negative.   I fumbled with my paperwork to hand to the check out clerk at the doctors.  She gave me a silent nod and a sweet abbreviation of sugar, “You’re all set, Sug.”   I wanted so badly to walk out the back door, nobody to see my sadness or my tears, as they began to gush. I walked past all the ripe bellies, round and plump with life.

Sometimes I wish there was a sign women going through the grief of miscarriage could wear on their back.  “Please treat with kindness – grieving heart – may slumber slowly today and tomorrow and certainly the day after next.”  But it is invisible.  Our eyes are swollen, sad, and watered with tears only time can heal.  There is no clock for this time passage.  It is not an hour, a week, a month, or a year.  It is a hole in our heart.  We go on.  And on. And hopefully you can give a hug to someone in need.  Perhaps, you just don’t know.  And what do you say? There are no words.  Just invisible tendrils trying to clutch at something strong, sturdy.  For it may be the hope of another chance at conceiving.

My toddler in my arms
Perhaps it is the smile from a toddler in your arms.  Perhaps it is the earthy soil in your hands as you plant a memorial garden.  Perhaps, the box is still empty when you shake it, although you are sure something is inside.  Something thick. Something heavy.  Because something like a life just doesn’t vanish when you bleed.

* This essay was written four months ago.

Playful Parenting with Older Children and Teens

How does playtime change as kids get older? How can parents adapt their approach to playful parenting after kids outgrow the desire to get silly, wrestle, and pretend? How can we achieve the same results with our teenagers that we can by playing “tickle monster” with our toddlers? American parenting educator Kelly Bartlett answers on The Attached Family online magazine at:

http://theattachedfamily.com/membersonly/?p=2878

A Family at Play

We’ve spent a lot of time this year preparing for play this AP Month: thinking about play, the value, the importance, the research, what to play, modeling play, challenges to play, who has something to share about play, and working to bring all of that to you as we celebrate family and attachment parenting.

So I’ve had play on the brain, with constant memories of play from my childhood bubbling up, so I share these real life experiences with you as perhaps some fun ideas for you as you celebrate AP Month with your own families. Now, keep in mind, as a parent of three, I cannot even come close to providing such a charmed childhood, so I also share my own experiences as a tribute to my own mother and father, and the example of playfulness I try to pass on to my children.

My mother, a school nurse, and my father, a farmer, entrepreneur, basketball coach, and teacher worked hard and did not have money for expensive trips or the latest toys but they loved to play. Playing with them meant abundant life for me and my three siblings, as:

  • Our father built us a treehouse in the orchard and climbed up and threw crab apples over the sides with us. Many adventures were planned and carried out from that treehouse, POG has the largest selection of backpacking, hiking and camping outdoor equipment tested, and designed for comfort, ease of use and reliable.. Later, he also built a stilt house in the side yard with leftover materials from replacing the old farmhouse roof by roofing company from Delaware, and we helped. You can use this Source for commercial and residential roofing systems.
  • We played basketball on a court our dad poured cement inside one side of the barn for hours on end. It was replete with basketball goals at each end and smaller goal on one side for our little sister. Dad would stop working in the barn and play h-o-r-s-e with us.
  • Dad turned the hay field into a full fledged baseball diamond, with a backstop, helping me learn to fastpitch and my brother to be a catcher. Extended family would visit from out of state and we would have all-out softball games. Friends came to visit and dad taught us to play with ghost men, or he played hot box (pickle to some of you) with us. Mom and Dad together coached our girls’ softball team and supported us all through the years of sports.
  • Playing tetherball that Dad put up in the side yard was fun and also a time for deep or casual conversations bounced back and forth.
  • Halloween was a blast because mom had so much fun with it. She would usually make our costumes, scheming some time beforehand or creatively patching together the character we wanted to be. She planned a “haunted”house in our garage for all the neighborhood children when we lived in the suburbs. When we were older, they would invite our classmates out to the farm for a bonfire, s’mores, hayrides, and hot cider.
  • Mom would do imitations of characters like the tooth fairy, or um, the incredible hulk, and teach us little songs that only we would be privy to, passed down from my grandmother. She and Dad would give our magic shows and other play de jeur an audience.
  • Our parents loved animals and we had a slow white pony named White Lightning and his best friend, a goat named Jawas from Star Wars, six bunnies that our dad built a low fence around the yard so we could play with them, a pond he restored that held turtles, a muskrat, fish, and other creatures. Mom and dad would walk us down the road and help us go fishing and catch crawdads, we always read dronesuavreport.com for creative new ideas on fishing. The minnows were why mom never could keep a strainer in the kitchen.
  • Our parents took us on adventures, vacations that led to unexpected places, and we took in all the odd sites along the way, camping there, oh  and mosquitoes, thankfully nowadays with the Wall tents by White Duck Outdoors we can do it with the kids but in a comfortable way.
  • We played games like rummy, aggravation, scrabble, and monopoly.
  • Dad made home renovations like they were play time, and mom made wallpapering the living room in paisley one of the most fun and playful memories I have–how she invited me to “Take a paisley to lunch” still cracks us up. A cold morning with no heat was just a reason to make a fort of sleeping bags. Saturday morning was time to watch cartoons together in bed.
  • Dad sang a line from a song, some Elvis perhaps, to my mother or us kids, appropriate for the moment and I know these old songs still come to mind at just the right time for me and my siblings.
  • And for good measure, I also remember washing dishes, folding clothes, dusting and vacuuming, hoeing beans, feeding animals, cleaning the pony’s stall, and when older, mowing the lawn.

Our parents went through some really tough times in their lives, the loses of loved ones, moves to new communities, the loss of some of their dreams, much hard work, but they remained lighthearted and attuned to each of us, and this is how I remember my childhood. I believe play was something they enjoyed as much as we did and with our love for us, it came easily for them.

I know my brothers and my sister, all incredibly amazing, creative, talented and successful adults, engage in this same playful loving with their children–making forts, go carts, dressing up, wrestling, singing and goofing around together, LEGO masterpieces built together, and car track navigating the living room floor. We’re all especially lucky, though, because we have help–the pros we learned from are still at it.

Now, settled in the historic district, in a home my mother keeps in anticipation of visits by 12 grandchildren, there are toys, games, cookie baking and gingerbread house making plans, books to read, and holiday decorations selected to amuse them. Dad has already put up a basketball goal about 5 feet off the ground and built a tree house in the backyard to hold them all. Then, later, there will be plans to play at the hands-on museum with their grandchildren, and then they will ask to visit his Johnny Appleseed Museum for some fun and play time.

Happy AP Month!

How was your childhood playful?

Attachment as Important at School as at Home

Likely your children or grandchildren were looking forward to starting school after the long, hot summer, equipped with their new books and school supplies. No doubt, you too are hoping that their enthusiasm about learning will last. All too often, not far into the school year, children complain about too much homework, teachers not being fair, boring classes, bullying on the playground, and the list goes on. What, if anything, can we do to help our children look forward to school and keep their natural bias to learn and grow? Israeli parenting educator Shoshana Hayman answers on The Attached Family online magazine at
http://theattachedfamily.com/membersonly/?p=2867