Respond with Sensitivity – Page 30

I’m screaming at the top of my voice…can you hear me?

A very dear friend of mine nearly lost his sister to tragic circumstances 13 days ago. I can’t speak for her, for him or for their parents or friends. I can only share how this horribly sad situation is affecting me. As I ponder the despondence that chaperoned her down this harrowing and dark course, I can’t help but reflect upon my own life and the lives of the ones I love. I’m questioning everything and yet, I feel as though I understand.

One of the messages I thread through much of my writing and through my actions is the need for each of us, from birth, to be heard. To be seen. To be understood. I can’t say it enough, and I find that it applies to any and every situation I come across.

Since the moment I first gave birth, I somehow instinctively understood this and it’s the constant force behind my patience, my understanding, my listening, my love. It is the feeling that led me to Attachment Parenting without even knowing what that meant. If only we each had this gift from another, I truly believe, things would be different. We would be different. We wouldn’t be desperately longing for the kind of connection to nurture our soul in ways that only one where someone truly hears us, provides. The love and acceptance we long for outside of ourselves appear much differently when we truly accept and embrace the love we first need for ourselves.

When I witness someone suffering, including myself, I realize that we are either too afraid to share our pain, we allow ourselves to be honest and vulnerable and we are then judged, misunderstood or dismissed, or we really don’t have anyone we feel connected to and trust in such a way to provide the necessary space we need for the disclosure. Some also unconsciously bury the pain so deep that they pretend and act as if it doesn’t even exist. They create worlds and scenarios that camouflage their suffering even deeper. They believe that if anyone knew, they would die. The shame. The fear. The secrets. Each of these will kill us before the shock of anyone finding out the truth will.

Whichever reality it is, they all lead us down the same path. We end up feeling frightened. Ashamed. Unworthy. Isolated. Alone. We are too afraid to ask for help, and we often feel we have the tools to manage it all. On our own. Eventually.

We then continue on with secrets and delicate, sometimes beautiful facades to protect ourselves from anyone ever knowing the truth. In many cases, we clearly hear and see the desperate cries for help. We see the reckless, unabashed behavior and we do our best to lend a hand. Take control. Offer advice, guidance, comfort, love, support. We talk amongst each other as we scramble for answers. We may get lucky enough to save them from themselves. We may not.

In other cases, you would never know of the pain and struggles one faces. Their facades are not as transparent. You might believe you know them. Their truth. Their smiling face and laborious achievements may prove that they are all powerful and strong beyond anything you could imagine. You might even envy them. They, too, are silently suffering in some way. We all are. I believe.

Another unfortunate sufferance I presume we each face at some point is the feeling of not being good enough. We compare ourselves to others and we allow the persuasive “less than” feeling to hold us back. I know I do. I often wish this obtrusive and provoking noise would evaporate into the air from which it came. It loves to make appearances though: Just when I think I’m strong and free, it stops in to challenge me yet again.

I am a very sensitive person and I feel everything. Acutely. Deeply. Profoundly. It doesn’t take a tragedy to awaken me to how precious this life is or how fortunate I am to live each moment I am given here. That said, it is in times of distress and tribulation when we are most aware and most vulnerable to receive the lessons we are meant to, if we allow ourselves to feel and experience all of it. If we can truly understand that we are all connected. Our energy affects everything and everyone.

My wish is for each of us to recognize and understand that we are not perfect. We don’t have to be perfect. We each have a purpose and our own unique being with which to carry that out. We can ask for help when we need it. We are good enough. We are worthy of love. We are transcendent.

If we are fortunate enough to know each other already or we are still yet to cross paths in this lifetime or another, I want you to know that I see you. I hear you. I love you.

❤ Sandy

Using presence to raise independent children

Editor’s note: This post was originally published on Oct. 22, 2008, but it carries a timeless message of the payoffs of giving presence to our children, allowing them to develop independence on their own developmental timeline.

By Kayris Wall of The Great Walls of Baltimore and Mommy, What’s For Dinner?

One day, when my son was a baby, I took him to the grocery store. He started to cry, and as I lifted him out of his car seat, a strange woman walked by. “If you do that every time he cries, he’ll never learn to be independent,” she said over her shoulder.

I was a brand-new mom and hadn’t developed my laser-like Mind Your Own Business stare yet, so I mumbled something about him being hungry. As I watched her walk away, I thought to myself, Is she kidding? He’s only 2 months old. He’s not supposed to be independent!

That baby just turned 4 years old recently, and has been joined by a sister, now almost 2 years old. Sometimes I still think about that stranger in the grocery store. I wish I would run into her again so I could show her my independent, friendly, confident little boy and tell her, “See this? It’s because I’ve always been there for him.”

I’m not claiming to be a perfect parent by any means. I have my strengths and my many, many weaknesses. The most difficult one by far is controlling my quick temper and being patient instead. It’s something I struggle with daily. But if there is one thing that I’m absolutely confident that I’m doing right, it’s that my children know that I’m there for them when they need me.

Until recently, I was primarily a stay-at-home mom. In the beginning, I provided the most basic needs to my infant son. I breastfed him when he was hungry, changed him when he was wet, rocked him to sleep when he was tired. I spent hours just holding him, and he went everywhere with me. It was fun. He was my little buddy. Two years later, our duo expanded when I had another baby, and my son was always there when I nursed, rocked and changed his sister.

Sometimes it was lonely and I felt isolated a lot, but seeing the end result makes it worth it. Beyond feeding and changing and snuggling, I was there when my son brought me an acorn and asked, “What’s this thing?” I was there to bandage their wounds when they fell, help them learn to climb steps, to tie shoes and wipe noses. There were a lot of times when they didn’t need me, but I was there on the sidelines in a benign fashion, just in case they did. When they are grown and look back to the early years of their lives, I hope they’ll always see my presence, even if it’s just as a shadowy figure around the outskirts.

In the past year, I picked up some daytime hours at my part-time job. While I’m working, my mom stays with my children. This past September, my son started preschool three days a week. Both transitions went smoothly; in fact, the separation was harder on me than it was on my kids! But I am convinced that these first years, those times in which I was never far away, helped shape them into independent, adaptable little people and that is why they were just fine was I was suddenly not there. They knew that I would come back.

I’m not advocating that all mothers quit their jobs to become stay-at-home parents. I enjoy my time away, I’m good at my job, and I like what I do. And as my children grow and parenting them becomes more complex, I find that working outside of the home helps make me a better parent. This is partly because I can interact with other adults and gain perspective from other parents, but also because the time that I do have with them is that much more precious. It makes it that much easier to put aside my to-do list and to focus 100% of my attention on them.

My son is thriving in school, and I’m so impressed with the program he is in that I may sign my daughter up for the 3-year-old program next fall. Eventually, both will be in school full time, both will make friends, play sports and not need my presence in the same way that they do now. But it’s okay, because they will both be prepared to go out into the world, knowing that they are loved and cherished. They will be ready. And I will be ready, too.

Compassion, balance and truth in parenting

Compassion.

What does this word mean to you?

I see compassion as being open to seeking the truth in any given moment. As a parent, I am constantly invited inward in order to seek my truth. Our children and partners have their own truths. It can be challenging when I am forced to find the truth that lies within each person in my family.

Truth.

What does this word mean to you? It may mean being honest, open and vulnerable. It might mean only speaking what you know to be right or it could mean a variety of other different options.

Truth, as I am speaking of now, is the inner voice that each person brings into the world. It is that innate wisdom that we each hold. It is the intuition that guides us forward as we are making decisions within our lives.

Our children are born with their own truths, and as parents, we are invited to take part in assisting our kids as they open to that guidance. Compassion arises when we are open to seeking out those truths.

“Compassion is the basis of all truthful relationship. It means being present with love for ourselves and all of life.” ~ Ram Doss

This quote is one that resonated with me the minute I heard it. The words brought on a new level as I began to understand how they may play out in my role as a parent. It reminded me of one of Attachment Parenting International‘s Eight Principles of Parenting — Strive for Personal and Family Balance — for it is when we are in love with ourselves that we can find what is needed to nurture another.

Finding balance and taking time for my needs has been one of the most challenging aspects to the role of being a parent.

When my daughters were both under the age of 5, I thought that taking time to myself was a joke. How could any parent do that? Don’t we need to be fully engaged with our children all the time no matter what?

I could not have been further from my truth. What I was missing in my thinking was that when I took time to engage in activities that nourished me, I was able to offer myself compassion…which leads to hearing my wisdom…which allows me to be fully present to my children and their truths.

What I needed in those early years was permission to allow for self-compassion. I needed to know that not only was it OK for me to take a few moments to myself, but it was absolutely vital.

Compassion requires balance and a willingness to be available to yourself. This is the key to my parenting that has served me well as my daughters are growing older.

The beauty is that I have taken the steps to implement this message into my daily routines and my daughters have both been witnesses to this. They have seen what it looks like when I am in balance and what it looks like when I am a mess — yes, those days happen! From those observations, my children are empowered to find what is needed for them to be centered, mindful and aware of their own truth.

Sibling rivalry is natural

It is natural for our children to feel anger toward their siblings and to experience anger in their peer relationships. It is how we react to their anger in these situations that will determine the outcome of how well they manage these angry outbursts.

The book, Siblings Without Rivalry, goes in depth about sibling conflict. As we learned during the API Reads discussion of this book, the author recommends allowing the siblings to problem-solve the matters themselves without your intervention, unless of course the interaction is physical and then separation is needed. It is also beneficial to reflect back to each child what their feelings are so that the other child “hears” the emotions. This book touches on the fact that no matter what you do as parents, your children are going to feel jealous or that things are unfair sometimes.

The peer relationship is one in which you want to remain empathetic to what is going on but to not take sides. You want to help your child problem-solve on his or her own about what is needed to be done. Your role is mainly to be a sounding board.

Here are some portions from the API Reads discussion on Love and Anger that I highlighted as points to remember in regards to sibling rivalry:

Parents have a right to want to discourage cruelty. But at the same time, they need to accept the fact that they won’t always be able to make their children kind to one another. Sibling rivalry drives parents crazy, but it is a natural state of affairs.
Children will fight no matter what and their arguing is inevitable. However, do not take sides. Firmly state the rule without blaming either child.
As children grow up and reach adulthood, the hostility and competition usually lessen and are gradually replaced by closeness and support.
Parents need to accept the feelings of jealousy, resentment or anger that a sibling might have, while setting limits on hurtful actions. “Sometimes Jeffrey annoys you. I know. But he’s not to be hit.”
Sometimes it’s helpful to indulge your children’s fantasies about a sibling.
Parents have to accept the fact that children won’t always perceive their actions as being fair.

I know for myself that siblings do tend to create connection when they are older. There was competition, jealousy, cruelty, tattle-tailing and so on in the sibling relationships I grew up with, but now we support one another as adults.

Editor’s note: Join this and other discussions on Goodreads through the API Reads online book club. You can read along in your own copy of Love and Anger, or even if you don’t have the book, you can follow the discussion and take away bits of parenting ideas to try in your home. Learn more about the API Reads program or join for free directly at Goodreads.

Happy Birthday, my daughter!

My Shelly,

So many thoughts and feelings have been circling my mind the past few weeks as my daughter will be reaching a new milestone: She will be turning 10 years old, I have been looking for the perfect birthday gifts for her for a while now.

As cliché as it may sound, it feels like just yesterday you merged into our life. When you arrived to this world, you were tiny at 6 pounds and 17-3/4 inches. Your size didn’t reflect the impact you would make on our lives.

I remember vividly bringing you home from the hospital. Daddy and I walked through the door, carrying you in your car seat, and brought you to your new room. We labored so hard to design it and custom-paint it, just for you. We placed the car seat in the middle of the room and looked around. You made it complete.

Daddy and I shared our life together 9 years before you joined us, and after many challenges, obstacles and one big triumph, you arrived! We couldn’t imagine more love and more light was possible, but you showed us it was.

Saying that “I love you from the bottom of my heart, with every fiber of my being” doesn’t adequately capture how I feel about you as my feelings are far beyond that. I love you not only as my child — my daughter — but also as the being that you are: the beautiful soul that resides inside your body.

For my daughter’s birthday I made her a wonderful cake. Thankfully I took a cake decorating class and learned a lot of tips and trick for that day. I was the best gift I could give her, she loved it.

You remind me of what it was like to be a child. You remind me of my own beautiful childhood. You remind me of what it’s like to have your entire life, your future ahead of you. It makes me want to push harder to achieve my goals — I want to show you it’s all possible.

I want you to be proud of me as your mother, as a woman.

I love that you are so confident, not in the arrogant sense, but in your core. You are content. You are comfortable in your own skin. That’s a gift most people strive to achieve throughout their entire lives.

I love that your heart is always in the right place with good intentions and actions for those around you.

As frustrating as it may be for me, I love that you lose your patience so easily at times when things don’t go your way. It reminds me of my own faults. It makes me look inside and want to improve.

I love your shy, crooked smile. You are not one to seek attention as you are quiet and humble.

I love that you are mature and responsible beyond your age. You make it easy for me to be your mom.

I love that you enjoy spending time with me, just the two of us sharing quiet, precious moments together.

I love that your imagination and creativity run wild. You have a passion for writing and art, and I adore seeing your world through it all.

My beautiful girl, you are 10 years old! How privileged and grateful I feel to be your mom.

I know that as the years will pass, we will face many challenges together. You may not always agree with me. You may not always like me. And I may not always be right. I wish that through it all, we will remain close, open and honest with one another. I hope our bond will always prevail and show us the way. My hopes and dreams for you, my girl, are that you will share your inner beauty and talents with the rest of the world, spread your wings as far as you can and always know that you are loved.

I love you — and beyond! — always and forever,
Mommy

Fathers, enjoy the now

Editor’s note: This post was originally published on Oct. 17, 2008, but offers a wonderful perspective from an Attachment Parenting father that can truly stand the test of time.

One of the greatest gifts that a father can give to his children is to be present: to be here now, to be actively engaged in their lives.

Your presence as a father, as a man, is something completely different than what they experience from the mother as a woman, so make it special. Be present.

To be present, you have to mentally let go of all of the loose ends in your life. You have to let go of all of the things happening this afternoon, next week, this winter, 5 years from now. You have to let go of the past. Let go of everything from yesterday, from your work, from when you were a kid…

Sounds easy. It’s not.

Our minds are like monkeys, jumping from one thought to the next: I’m hungry. Wow, look at that sweet bike. I need some new socks. What time is the show? I sure could use some cash. Where’s that book I was reading? All of our wants and needs and disappointments and triumphs and losses and opinions are competing for space in our head.

Observe yourself. Get to know yourself. Maintain an awareness of the source of your thoughts and judgments. When you speak, ask yourself why you are speaking. When you eat, ask yourself where your food came from and why you are eating it. When making a choice, ask yourself why you decided the way that you did.

Chances are, you’ll learn an awful lot about yourself in a short time. Then you can begin to make different choices, consciously. Like the choice to be present with your child.

You can start by actively looking them in the eye when they are speaking to you, and by asking them what they think about things. Let them teach you about themselves by being an engaged listener and giving them your full attention. If you get down on their level with the Legos and let them lead, you’ll find that they are present. They are here now.

Makes you wish maybe you could be a kid again.

The next time they ask for something they don’t usually get, say “yes,” and enthusiastically involve yourself with them.

The Attachment Parenting father understands that most rules for kids are silly. So many times, “no” is the answer simply because it’s the usual answer, the regular answer, not because there is a valid reason for it. Kinda like “Because I said so.”

So surprise them. Surprise yourself. Be impulsive and irrational because you can, because it doesn’t matter what you did in the past.

This is now.

Go for it.

It’s all you’ve got.

“In dwelling, live close to the ground.
In thinking, keep to the simple.
In conflict, be fair and generous.
In governing, don’t try to control.
In work, do what you enjoy.
In family life, be completely present.”
-from the Tao Te Ching, Stephen Mitchell translation

Saying “no” the Attachment Parenting way

“Many of us were brought up to feel that we were greedy or selfish if we wanted things. Our parents turned our wants into occasions for shame.” ~ Love and Anger: The Parental Dilemma by Nancy Samalin

This quote is completely true for me. Even now as an adult, sometimes I feel ashamed for wanting something I know isn’t possible to have at that moment.

Our children have a right to ask for things that they want. And we have a right to say “no.”

Our child will be unhappy with the “no” and likely feel angry, sad or disappointed. As the parent, our job is to allow them these emotions while setting limits.

Editor’s note: Join this and other discussions on Goodreads through the API Reads online book club. You can read along in your own copy of Love and Anger, or even if you don’t have the book, you can follow the discussion and take away bits of parenting ideas to try in your home. Learn more about the API Reads program or join for free directly at Goodreads.

Someday you will miss this

It’s 4 a.m. My baby is awake again. She has nursed and fallen asleep…and then woke up again the second I tried to move her. Now she is wide awake, eyes open and smiling at me. I am exhausted — beyond exhausted. And I have to be up in a few hours to take my son to school.

I really feel like I can’t handle this much longer. I just want to sleep.

Then suddenly a thought pops into my mind: Someday you will miss this.

I know that it’s true. Someday I will sleep again — full nights without interruption — and in a strange way, I will miss this moment.

I won’t miss this feeling of being so, so tired, but I will miss the feeling of my baby’s small body snuggling up against my chest and how soft and chubby and warm she is. I will miss how, once she finally falls asleep on my chest, it feels so comfortable and perfect.

Someday I will no longer nurse her and cosleep with her, she will be too big to lay down my body, and she will not need me to put her to sleep at all. And I will miss having this sweet, warm baby who loves me more than anything.

I try to remember that, in the middle of the night when I feel like I simply do not want to be doing this anymore. I try to use it as an opportunity to enjoy her and to let her know how much I love her by hugging her, covering her fat cheeks with kisses and meeting her needs.

It’s easier said than done, especially when I’m half-asleep, but it definitely helps to change my attitude: Instead of thinking about how much I hate being awake, I make an effort to focus on how much I love this time with just my daughter and me.