Respond with Sensitivity – Page 42

Connection Before Correction: How Attachment Leads Our Discipline Style

In my parenting, the goal of obedience doesn’t exist. It’s important to emphasize the part about it being a goal. Notice that I didn’t say, “Obedience doesn’t exist in our household.” I mean that our children’s obedience to my husband and me is not something we specifically aim for.

I get its importance, though, and I understand why parents expect it. It’s nice! And sometimes necessary. We tell our kids to do things because we want them to be safe and healthy. Most directions are not urgent: It’s time to get your shoes on. Please clear your plate. Go throw your garbage away. Though some directions are: STOP! (running in the street). Since we give a multitude of necessary directions every day, compliance is certainly a nice perk, not to mention needed.

But it’s also important to keep in mind that kids under age 7 are going through crucial periods of development of their autonomy and will…certainly the toughest years for expecting obedience. This is not to say I don’t have any expectations of my kids. I do.

I expect them to have feelings. My wishes may or may not line up with their objectives, and they will have feelings about that.
I expect them to express their feelings; to feel free to communicate with me at a level that is appropriate for their development.
I expect them to help take care of themselves.
I expect them to contribute to the family and household.
I expect them to be autonomous; to do things for themselves.
I expect them to take initiative; to have their own ideas and want to see them through.
I expect them to not like everything that needs to be done. I don’t. No one does.

When I shift my perspective on behavior and aim for an understanding, attached relationship rather than simple obedience, my children are naturally inclined to follow my directions. We have the kind of relationship in which, when I say, “STOP!” or “NO!” in a dangerous situation, they stop immediately. They’re not behaving out of conditioned obedience or because I have actively taught them to obey as one of my goals of raising them. They listen to me because of the status of our relationship. Our connection, combined with the notes of urgency and fear in my voice, creates a crystal clear distinction between this kind of communication and all of our regular daily interactions. There is no need for spankings, isolating time-outs, punishments, or shameful exclamations of “How could you do that?” and, “Just go to your room and stay there!” It’s because of the connected relationship I have with my kids that when I say “No” with authority, I don’t have to say anything else.

So, although my husband and I don’t expect obedience from our kids, we get it. Why? Why does it happen so naturally and willingly?

Because we recognize our kids’ objectives. We know that, as kids, they have other ideas and different priorities than we parents do.
Because we value their feelings. And we prove it by listening and accepting them on a daily basis.
Because we communicate with respect and empathy.
Because we aim for understanding…their feelings, their goals, their interests & disinterests. We make it a priority to know what makes our kids tick.
Because we value their uniqueness. The way they’re not like any other kids.
Because we aim to be aware of their levels of physical, cognitive, and emotional development.

All of this leads to a close, secure, attached relationship. My husband and I replace a goal of obedience with one of connection and trust instead. Because if there is connection and trust in a parent-child relationship, guess what comes naturally? Obedience. Children are drawn to “do right by” those to whom they are emotionally connected.

Do our kids ever “disobey?” Of course. But we don’t see it like that. We see all of these moments in which they’re “not listening” with an understanding of who our children are and what they need. It’s not personal, it’s developmental. I find that if I shift my perspective from You need to do what I say! to one of How can we solve this problem to meet everyone’s needs?, my directions do get carried out. I see ‘not listening’ as…

a child having strong, very acceptable, very human feelings. Children need validation and acceptance.
immature brain development. Children need time to develop brain connections necessary for self control and self-discipline.
an example of a child exerting autonomy and initiative. This is very developmentally appropriate; children need to be autonomous.
a show of distance in our relationship. Children need to feel a sense of significance and belonging.

Meet the needs, get the cooperation.

Instead of expecting obedience from my children, I have shifted my thinking to expect developmentally appropriate behavior. I understand my kids’ social, emotional, and cognitive capabilities, and I work on cultivating a relationship based on that understanding. By parenting not strictly for obedience, but for a combination of a connected relationship and authority, kids give their willing cooperation by default.

Signed…Better Late Than Never

Hello all,

I wanted to share this letter below that I received today. I am deeply touched that this person, identity unknown, took the time to express himself so openly and honestly. I hope we can all read it and take something from it, whether we are parents or not.

Dear Sandy,

I’m probably not your average reader. I’m a single man without kids.

I take responsibility for the path I have chosen to follow in life and the dreams that have never come to pass because I have never followed them to see where they would lead. Still, there is a part of me that wonders how much different my life would be today if I had a mother who had loved me, the way you love your boys.

I wasn’t yet in the first grade and I remember going to bed at night, looking forward to the hugs and kisses my mom would give me. I loved her so much and couldn’t tell her enough times or kiss her cheek often enough. Then a moment would come, before bed, when she would tell me that she’d had enough and it was time for bed. I would ask her to tell me just one more time that she loved me and she would refuse, telling me that it was getting to be a bit much.

I would begin by asking nicely and when she refused to tell me that she loved me, just one more time, I would begin to beg, “mom, please tell me that you love me, please.” “No”, she would say. “Now go to bed and quit being a baby.”

I remember the feeling of going to bed wondering if I had upset my mom and if she even still loved me at all. In the morning, I would wake up and look for a smile on my mother’s face or a hug to reassure me that she did in fact still love me.

It was this one event that continually reoccured. She quit tucking me in at night because of the fuss it would cause and this is what began the deterioration of my self confidence. From that point forward I remember that I would never hear her say, “I love you” often enough. Even when she did say it, I doubted whether she really meant it or was just saying it so that I would behave.

The feeling of insecurity that comes from believing you must earn your mother’s love, is damaging beyond belief to a child. When I made this observation last week, I began crying uncontrollably.

I just want to say, “Thank you for showing me what love looks like.” From this one observation I have been able to take back control of my emotions and I have a confidence in myself that I have never had before. Now, for the fist time in my life I truly feel comfortable in my own skin.

Signed,
Better late than never.

Thank you, Mr. single man without kids, for your kind words and for allowing yourself to be vulnerable. I respect you for looking at yourself, and your upbringing, and for being open to learning and growing. I am so happy you are comfortable within your own skin and I wish you so much love and happiness in this life. We all deserve to be loved and I do believe that the need for LOVE begins at birth and continues on always. I am so delighted that you get to move forward and live your life from a different perspective and with a newfound confidence. Much Love and Respect.

Please always tell the ones you LOVE that you LOVE them. Please do your best to show it by being patient, respectful, loving and kind. We all need to hear it and feel it. I choose Love always and I am sending my Love to all of you.

Meeting Parents Where They’re At

I’m hard core when it comes to attachment-minded parenting practices in my home. I’m full-on natural birthing, breastfeeding, bedsharing, holding baby all the time, stay-at-home mommying or bringing baby to work with me, and loving guidance—which is why it surprises people that I don’t automatically condemn other parenting styles. For example, in another post, I made a statement that I don’t find spanking to be necessarily abusive and one person commented that this was Attachment Parenting heresy.

No, I don’t think that spanking has any place in an AP home. But, I’m also not naïve enough to think that spanking doesn’t sometimes happen. It may not be spanking—for some of us, our vice is yelling or sending a child to his room. We all make mistakes, and the idea that an AP parent never loses her cool is unrealistic. As importantly, we are all in different places on our own parenting journeys and just because a parent is still working on her issues and emotions doesn’t make her a bad parent.

When I work with parents, it’s important to remember that my role is not to change their minds about parenting, but rather to present them with the most up-to-date information regarding childrearing and then to support them in making their own decisions. I’m not the parenting police, so if a parent is spanking her child, it’s not my role to tell her to stop it. Rather, I can offer her information regarding the effects of punishment versus non-punitive discipline and then offer suggestions on moving toward a less punitive environment. But it is her choice, of course, to pursue that path. And it is my responsibility to not judge.

I cannot know what all goes into another parent’s choices. I may know a little, but even her or his spouse or partner likely doesn’t know the whole story. The parent her- or himself may not fully know.

It can be difficult to apply the AP mindset to our adult relationships, because after all, we’re adults and shouldn’t we know better? But once we’ve mastered what it takes to have a secure parent-child connection, taking it to the next level – with our spouse, our own parents, our friends, strangers in the car ahead of us that just cut us off, the really rude woman in line at the cash register, and so on – is the next frontier.

Of course, I’m not talking about bedsharing and breastfeeding when it comes to applying AP to adult relationships, but rather the attitude of unconditional acceptance and loving support. AP isn’t about whether or not we do certain parenting techniques but rather about the attitude that we’re bringing with those techniques. Spanking just isn’t of unconditional love; it’s of control and trying to change a person by force, rather than empowering that person to change themselves through their own choice.

It’s this attitude change that makes AP successful in families. If parents focus just on the parenting techniques themselves—to not punish, but without the AP mindset—they’re going to end up very frustrated and regressing again and again, or else confused or unsure about limits and therefore permissive.

The best way to teach AP, whether to our children or to our spouse or to another adult in our lives, is to model it. And judging others isn’t AP. We have to learn how to meet parents where they’re at in their parenting journeys right now, not where we think they should be, and to provide them the support they need to meet their goals of raising a secure, trusting, empathetic, affectionate, and joyful child.

Mommy’s meditating!

By the time my daughter was 2 years old, I had completed treatment for cancer. Still very ill, I was on a quest to find health. I understood cancer to be an environmental disease, and while I could not say I knew what had caused the disease, I thought if I made enough changes, I could remove the underlying cause.

I took up yoga, among other practices to cultivate health. I gained so many healing benefits from the practice, especially working with sound and breath, and before long, I found myself engaging in a daily meditation practice.

At first, I would meditate after Kaylee would go to sleep. It started with a few minutes a day. After a few months, it was over an hour.

In every other aspect of my life, I was more calm and perceptive. The benefits of the practice were clearly evident and had a positive impact in my relationships and my ability to parent.

But, it was really hard to do. How do you meditate with a little one by your side?

If I got out of bed in the morning, she would wake up. Upset and overtired, it would make a difficult day for us both. When I waited for her to go to sleep, I was often too tired to stay awake.

The more serious I became about the practice. The more annoyed I was if Kaylee woke up. If I heard a noise come from the bed, my heard would jump as I feared an end to my blissful retreat.

By the time she was 3, I had many incidents of being irritated and having an overtired child who woke up alone and upset.

I also went to a plant medicine retreat to do my meditation and that was life changing for me.

At some point, I was at a dinner party and heard a story about a little girl who sat cross legged with her hands in gyan mudra (thumb and index finger tips touching) resting on her knees. The little girl then grimaced and yelled “MOMMYS MEDITATING!” Everyone laughed at the irony while I completely connected with the situation.

While the practice had helped me be a better mother at every other moment, I was not responding with Love and patience during practice.

It was clear, something needed to change.

And then, I got it.

This practice of meditation. Of being in the moment. Of activating the healing side of myself. Of taking it breath by breath, moment by moment. It was very similar to the experience of loving my daughter. Loving her without the judgements or fears. Those moments where its just her and me and it doesn’t matter what else is around or what needs to be done.

Moments of unconditional Love.

I decided that instead of trying to fight my daughter, I would work her into the practice. Instead of leaving bed to meditate, I would simply sit up in bed. Instead of trying to meditate after she fell asleep, when I was too tired, I would put her to sleep in my lap while I meditated (this was and continues to be great method of getting her to fall asleep!). If she woke up during my practice, I would invite her to join me and give her a hug. If that meant I didn’t get more than 3 minute intervals of concentration or my eyes were open the entire time or I really didn’t meditate at all, that was okay.

My intention was on Love. Once I opened myself to how I experienced that Love, the practice became more deep and the experience of my daughter transformed. I also found that if I took breaks while meditating to interact with her, she would happily play around me and give me some space.

Some days she even sits next to me, cross legged, hands in gyan mudra and tells me, “I’m meditating.”

While it isn’t easy to meditate with a toddler or preschooler climbing all over you, it is possible. The key is in remembering that meditation is not about being calm during a moment of peace. Its about cultivating the ability to have peace during a storm, whether that storm lives in experiences in our days or the expectations in our minds.

And what easier way to prepare then to practice in a storm everyday?

Creating space to “hold” your child’s emotion

As any parent knows, the size of a person’s emotions has nothing to do with the size of his body.

Babies and toddlers stretch us emotionally by confronting us with feelings that we’ve been taught to dismiss, ignore, or stuff down to get by in Western societies. After all, it wouldn’t be cool for an adult to throw a temper tantrum in a mall or at the supermarket.

To avoid the squashing of emotion, we parents are taught to validate their children’s emotions – giving the feelings names, and letting the kid know it’s okay to feel the way he feels. This is a powerful tool for helping a child navigate the world, and knowing he’s got someone in his corner.

The tool we’ll explore today takes that validation a step further, and it doesn’t necessarily involve words. It’s also incredibly healing to the adult who can pull it off. And I speak from experience, though I’ve only pulled it off once.

By way of introduction, we’ll start with a metaphor. A great Kabbalistic teacher once illustrated the principle of receptivity (which is what Kabbalah means, by the way) by handing an apple to his disciple. The disciple reached out to take the apple. Again and again the teacher reached out with the apple, and pulled it away when the disciple went to take it. Frustrated, the disciple looked to his peers. “Don’t take it,” they advised. “Accept it.” The disciple breathed out his confusion and curved his palm up into a bowl, and his teacher dropped the apple into his outstretched hand.

When babies have big emotions, it can be trying for their parents, who are often emotionally invested in their child’s happiness. We come at them with anxiety, frustration, the agenda of solving their problem, and sometimes even anger at the disruption.

To become receptive, we must hollow our feelings out like the outstretched hand of a student. That doesn’t mean ignoring or banning our feelings and perspectives, but accepting them, then letting them be. We approach our child with the intention to accept his feelings – to make a sacred space for our child and all the feelings inside him, and to hold them lovingly inside ourselves.

We create that internal space, a space of non-judgement, non-striving – a vacuum really. Not only are we accepting everything that our child has to give us, we are embracing it. Through that act of unconditional love and support, we are able to connect on a profound level – not only to our child, but to ourselves and to that something greater.

There are few paths that offer the depth of testing, learning and personal growth than parenting. It can either be a struggle, or it can be a joy (and for most of us, it’s both). By reaching in deeply and letting our child know he’s okay – not only okay, but that every part of him is completely, deeply lovable – we channel more love into the world, and into ourselves. Parenting can heal our wounds, and it can help us to heal this deeply troubled world, one moment at a time.

When ‘No’ Doesn’t Mean ‘No’

The word “No” can make a terrible first impression. Sometimes it just doesn’t convey everything it intends. Especially if it comes from a young child: it’s not quite as literal as it seems. Upon first impression, “No!” sounds like:

I refuse.
I won’t listen.
I’m defying you.
I don’t respect you.

Those are usually our first thoughts upon being told No by our children. It’s a feeling, an impression that rubs us the wrong way. We bristle at the blatant defiance.

Except you know how a child’s laughter doesn’t mean a child is laughing at you (unless you’re my goofy and highly entertaining husband), but is more of an expression of immense enjoyment and agreeability? How it is a manifestation of all the happiness they’re feeling in that moment?

A shouted No is like the opposite of that. It’s the unpleasant feelings and unmet needs surfacing verbally in the easiest language available to a young child. No.

If we can take a minute to translate the No into what’s behind it, where it’s coming from, what it really means…

I don’t like this.
I’m angry.
I disagree.
I’m sad.
I don’t want to.
I’m frustrated.
I don’t need help.
I’m disappointed.
I would really rather be doing something else.
I’m autonomous and need to make my own choices.

…we get an expression of a valid feeling or a valid need. Yet we often find a reaction of our child’s No unacceptable. Children are quite capable of feeling strong feelings and quite incapable of articulating them. “Using their words” is hard…except for the one that suffices when they don’t know what else to say. No. It’s a simple and powerful way to express complicated feelings.

Keep in mind that No is less about defiance and more of an expression of dislike (especially for the under-7 crowd). And since we want to teach our kids that all of their feelings and needs are always OK, we can start by finding their Nos acceptable. This means searching for that translation behind it; articulating and validating it for them.

I know you don’t like this, and it needs to get done anyway.
You’d rather not; you’d rather keep playing. I understand.
It’s a hard job, and I’m here to help you.
You’re angry. It’s OK to be mad.
You have your own ideas. What would help you get this done?

When it comes to a child’s No, take a step back to consider what’s behind it. Distance yourself from the defiance. Listen for the translation and give No a second chance.

Weaning Early

I didn’t think much about parenting before I became a mom, but when it came to breastfeeding, there was never a question in my mind that we would nurse.

From the moment she latched on, I knew we would be doing this for a long, long time.

And so, on the week of her first birthday, when I found out I needed to have a biopsy for a polyp in my sinuses, I was horrified because the anesthesia would mean we would need to pump and dump my milk for a few hours. Even more alarming was my doctor’s insistence that the medication I would need to help whatever was going on would require me to wean.

On my drive home from that doctor’s visit, all I could think about in the car was having to wean Kaylee. And how that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

When I walked in the door and screamed for my mom, I expected the words out of my mouth to be about weaning Kaylee.

“I may have cancer.” Came crying out as I held my mother tighter than I had before. And I realized that there was much more at stake than nursing.

Two days later, I awoke from surgery and heard the news, suddenly weaning was not in my mind as much as living. And as I watched my daughter open her birthday presents that weekend, I could only hope to see her do the same at Christmas. Just a few short months away.

The next week, I had my first appointment at Sloan Kettering. It was on the 9th floor with the other pediatric patients.

I had Kaylee with me. I had been nursing her frantically. The only time I could maintain any sense of calm was during that beautiful time we shared.

One that I knew was going to end soon.

During the appointment, I was given my options for treatment.

I faced the most difficult decision of my life.

And I chose to give up a year of my life, to save the rest.

But it wasn’t just my life, it was the life of my little girl.

She who would need to go from sleeping by her mothers side and nursing on demand to having a mother who was rarely around.

We had a week to wean before treatment began.

My first thought was to let her nurse as much as possible, even encourage it. Let her enjoy it while it lasted.

But, it just didn’t sit well in my heart. She was only 1. I couldn’t tell her what was happening. It seemed more cruel to go from more than enough to nothing.

I changed tactics. When she came over to nurse, I would offer a hug and a smile. Tell her I love her and act as if that was all I needed as well.

And she was okay with the hugs. She stopped asking to nurse after a day.

Nighttime was a different story.

I didn’t have it in me to try to stop. She was still up every 2 hours and I was not in a place to try to get that to stop with so little time. Sleep was hard enough as it was!

And so, the night weaning was like ripping off a bandaid. Where I was the bandaid, and just like that, I was taken away and it was up to my daughter and her father to get through those first milkless nights.

I was weaning on my own.

Pumped milk is like gold. A precious commodity, you don’t want to lose a drop.

But my pumped milk was poison. With toxicity so great, I felt guilt every time I poured it down the drain.

Unable to fight any infection in my body, I had to be sure to pump milk regularly, because any plugged duct had the capability of endangering my life. At the same time, I had to get my breasts to stop making milk.

And so, it was a delicate balance. A tedious process that was draining physically and mentally.

In time, the milk was gone.

I think back to those first few weeks.

The diagnosis. Leaving home. Being sick.

And out of all the traumas of that year, its this experience.

Of pumping and dumping.

Of being scared to sleep with my child for fear she would start nursing.

Of weaning. Too early and too abruptly. Of having the experience last for weeks with every drop of milk that went down the drain.

And perhaps that is because its just not something anyone spoke about. Everything else seemed so big, weaning was just an aside.

And yet, the pain and heartbreak were tremendous.

Perhaps I will be graced with another child someday. A child that will wean gracefully. A child that will have their mother during their second year of life. A child who has happily married, healthy parents.

And that is a lovely, heartwarming thought. One that brings tears to my eyes.

But thats not what I need. And that life is not any better than Kaylee’s life.

Children don’t need to be protected from experiencing life. They need to be given the tools to help them get through it.

Kaylee is okay.

She is more than okay, she is incredible.

Well spoken, creative and compassionate. She is the walking example that all you need is love.

I wouldn’t take away any of her experiences regardless of how awful they may have been. They are hers to have had.

We spend a lot of time worry about messing up our kids.

Those traumatic experiences they encounter that we could have prevented.

The times we lose our cool and let our anger get the best of us.

We neglect ourselves trying to get it right.

Obsessing about the day to day encounters and experiences.

But its not our job to be perfect. Its not our job to make our children’s lives easy. Nor is it our job to push ourselves beyond healthy limits and boundaries because we are scared.

Its our job to Love. To give compassion. To teach and guide.

To forgive ourselves and others so that our children can too.

Whatever worry you have on your mind. Whatever struggle at the moment. Its going to be okay. Your child is going to be okay. The experiences and traumas we encounter cultivate who we become.

And when we are given love we become love and thats all any of us need.

Conscious parenting resolutions for the New Year

Like most parents, I have resolved to be the best parent I can be. And for me, that means integrating proven best practices as I come across them, incorporating them into my parenting toolbelt.

The end of the year is a time when many of us start looking to the future, reflecting on the positive changes we’d like to make in our lives. In the spirit of New Year’s, I’ve consolidated my top parenting resolutions here.

1. To love unconditionally.

Most western parents today were raised using a model where we were given or withheld love based on our behavior. Our desired behavior was rewarded and undesirable behavior, punished. While this type of reinforcement is effective with animals, with whom these techniques originated, they also send our children strong messages that shape their self image and self esteem. Love is contingent upon children satisfying our expectations, we communicate.

On the contrary, when children are given unconditional approval, which can be expressed through the absence of praise and punishment, they learn that – at their core – they are loved. Conversations about acceptable behavior can take place without communicating to a child that they are “good” or bad”.

2. To validate emotions and experience.

Little children experience big feelings. If adults can be overwhelmed by strong emotion, imagine the experience of a child who has no coping tools and very little power.

We can help children move through the turbulence of emotion by naming and validating their emotions. By making their emotions both relatable and acceptable, we give our children a safe space within which to grow. “You’re feeling angry because Johnny took the ball away from you,” we might say after witnessing our toddler’s rage. Offering to hold your child or speaking together to Johnny about the incident may help the child work through their feelings.

3. To instruct using positive language.

As newbies to our world, children have tons to learn about appropriate social behavior. The word “no” in isolation is minimally instructive, as it provides no actionable information about what is desirable. Spoken over and over to a baby or toddler – or teenager for that matter – it can evoke strong frustration.

Practical information about what is acceptable maximizes support while minimizing frustration. “Food is for eating, balls are for throwing,” can be a helpful response to a child who throws his food. While challenging at first, aspiring to reduce or eliminate the use of the word “no” can be a powerful tool for parents. A child’s boundaries can be set even more powerfully when the realm of acceptable behavior is clearly defined.

4. To model what I wish to elicit.

Children learn by watching what we do, not by listening to what we say. While it’s tempting to demand respect from our children, one of the most productive – and fulfilling – ways to elicit respect is by extending it to them. Using polite language like please and thank you, responding to their requests with love and understanding – especially when they can’t be granted – and providing a safe space for them to create and make mistakes all send powerful messages about love. When we honor our children as separate beings with equally valid preferences – keeping in mind that it’s our responsibility in advance to limit their options to those that are supportive of their healthful development – we create a mutually respectful relationship.

5. To assume the best of intentions.

Have you ever noticed how the world rises to our expectations? Expect to have a bad day, and you’ll notice the frustration of hitting an empty tank of gas. Expect to have a good day, and you’ll pay special attention when that lady lets you go ahead at the supermarket.

Children are extremely responsive to our moods and expectations. We can avoid some huge potholes by refraining from labeling our children, i.e. “she’s the smart one” or “he’s the aggressive one”. We can also do our children a huge service by assuming that they have the best of intentions. Your child wants a strong relationship with you, filled with love, affection and mutual respect. And as long as you assume the best, even when he’s pulling the cat by her tail and throwing rice across the room, you can educate and nurture in a way that preserves a loving relationship. Remember, we’re all students here. And perhaps never more so than as parents.

6. To learn from my child.

Children come into the world with a lack of inhibition that is tremendously instructive. They show no shame in asking for what they desire, and they act instantly upon their most primal instincts to meet their needs. Ever notice how young children will suddenly start running around, or singing at the top of their lungs?

While most adults have learned to repress their desires, children are in touch with their basic needs – food, love, and exercise. When your child demands attention, take a cuddle break and relish the opportunity to love and be loved. When your child declares a dance party or initiates a wrestling match, join in! These feel-good games raise your heart rate and release your natural joy. What could be better?

7. To be present.

So often, we get caught up in our thoughts or to-do lists. While we can experience a sense of temporary relief or satisfaction by making progress on standing projects, the high only goes so far. Children live the grace-filled experience of being in the moment, each and every moment. By letting our agendas go and allowing a child to draw us into his world, we experience the aliveness of living in the present moment. While we’re giving the child a gift by attentively joining his game, that gift returns to us tenfold in each moment that we’re consciously present.

This year and every year, above all, I aspire to embrace the gifts that parenthood and life have to offer. I wish the same for you, in 2013 and beyond.