On Days Your Kids Wrestle On The High Beam

The sun was shining warm and bright at the park, and I was snacking on cookies (what else?) while watching both kids play on a familiar neighborhood playground. It's blissful situations like these that lead to daydreaming for me, and I'm swept away in mapping out weekend plans or a funny story in my head. Does this happen to anyone else?

Moments later I notice both of my children straight up wrestling on a beam about four feet off the ground, leading up to a water spout. I've seen them both cautiously crawl up and down this beam in the past - but now they were both standing up and red-faced, hands intertwined, trying to be first to get to the spout, WWE style.

<cue me swallowing my cookie nearly whole trying to stifle phrases like, "you're going to FALLLL!!!">

I find that the last thing you say is usually what happens. 

With not a full run, but with momentum I got close and gently but firmly held them both and said as unruffled as possible, "I see you both want to get to the water spout first - but fighting up here isn't safe."

"Mama! Brother had his turn! Now it's mine! Get off Brother, get OFF!" Sister Butterfly cried out.
"Mine, mine, mine, mine...." Brother Butterly chimed in, mimiking her intensity. 

They continued arguing and I felt I couldn't keep them safe and connect with them. I think it's also okay to admit what you're feeling too - in this case, I was worried about them falling. 

"I'm going to take you both down because this isn't working. I'm feeling worried you may fall." I took them both down, and kneeled and looked at the in their eyes, "the sand and swings are open, or I wonder if you two can brainstorm a way to use the water spout safely...?"

In situations like these, their safety comes first, but I will allow them a chance to work the problem out once they are safe. I also don't allow any hitting or hurting one another, and will block these as best I can, saying phrases like, "I won't let you hit, yes I see you're upset..." 

They both begged me to go back on the beam, and Sister Butterfly announced that she would let Brother Butterfly climb up first to the spout, but that means he has to pour all the water for her sand castle. They both seemed happy with this plan and tried it out for the next 15 minutes with success. 

I always appreciate their own problem solving on situations like these, and will allow them a chance to work it out, even if the solution is not what I had in mind. I do the same with toy taking, because there are some BIG benefits for allowing them to work out toy struggles with you supporting them close by (Here are 4 benefits!).  

I can't help bit feel like letting children take the lead in their own disagreements is self-care for my needs as a person as well. 

Our weekend was spent without playgrounds and city life, and in the Redwoods because that balance is always appreciated by all, and everyone sleeps better that night. I just finished Last Child In the Woods in my book club, and found it fascinating that there are so many healing benefits to unstructured play in nature. Have you read it? 

PS - We just returned from the happiest week long trip to San Diego with my parents, which included a trip to a Discovery Museum located on a lagoon! I left feeling refreshed from sleeping in and homemade dinners I remembered from childhood. Thanks, Mom and Dad! 

I'd love to know, what do playground and toy struggles and solutions look like with your family? How much intervention do you find beneficial for both your children and yourself?

On Seeing The Good In Feeling Uncomfortable

Grey clouds covered the sun, and a cold steady breeze whipped my hair into a frenzy as I walked the sandy steps down to the beach. We're visiting my family in Southern California, and I felt a giddiness flutter in my heart when I heard my parents were taking both kids to the park for a few hours. We've had a wonderful time all together - but walking by myself on the beach felt like just the thing.

I jogged down to where the water met the sand, and stopped short, my eyes squinting at the sea. Maybe it was a bit too cold to be on the beach today? Did I really want to get sandy and wet and walk back to town so uncomfortable? I reached into my pocket to check the time and noticed I had forgotten my cell phone at home. Suddenly a beach walk just sounded like a chore. 

I entertained the idea of a warm coffee shop down the road. Now that sounded cozy! But then I looked out into the choppy waters, and noticed a diver about a quarter mile out, diving up and down in the water, as agile as a porpoise. My mom later told me that these divers are great swimmers, and are out there spearing fish for dinner. 

Hell, if there are people brave enough to spear fish for dinner with some flippers and a snorkel, then I could walk the beach without needing to feel perfectly comfortable, I thought. 

I walked the beach for a few miles, and let the waves crash on my feet. Then a wave unexpectedly splashed up to my knees. Before long - I couldn't' help myself - I was trudging a long, nearly waist deep, and literally giggling to myself as I splashed around, tripping over seaweed and watching seagulls soar over my head. I walked back into to town with Baba Butterfly and ate lunch outside, my cold toes and soggy leggings a reminder of feeling so happy and free (he snapped a photo of me above!).   

I wondered about all the wonderful experiences in life we sometimes miss out on for the sake of comfort. I love a good Hygge moment and definitely opt for Converse over heels any day. But why do I need to seek comfort as much as I do, even if it means missing out on feeling happy and free?

Before I knew Magda Gerber's Educaring®  approach, which is also called RIE® - I wanted comfort for my own children at all costs. I never considered what they were missing out on. In the early days with Sister Butterfly, I relied on a cushioned swing or button filled exersaucer to keep her comfortable and entertained. I never considering that these well-meaning devices actually restricted her movement and freedom to explore and play in a natural way.

I also found myself not wanting her to cry or experience hard things like toy struggles - because I thought it was better for her to be happy all day long. I was shhhing, breastfeeding all day and night, and even wearing her in a sling around the house with an aching back - all for the sake of keeping her perfectly content. I'd "fix" toy struggles before anyone got upset. I soon learned there are many reasons to calm down about babies crying (here are 7 reasons!), and thoughtful ways to allow young children to work toy struggles out themselves. 

***I'd love to hear the ways you felt happy and free in a moment that was uncomfortable, if you don't mind sharing. I'm also curious, in what ways can we let go a little bit of feeling comfortable, and allow children the same exhilarating benefits (while taking care of their needs). 
xoxo, Jesse

On The Swirls (And Swirls) Of Being Fully Human

Hey there, Jesse here! I am now blogging over at a new site called Weave In Wonder. It's the place where moms learn how to feel their happiest with meaningful self-care, respectful parenting & fun play ideas. Meet me over there! 

<3

It all started innocent enough. We were painting a tree branch for a process art book club I was hosting that week, and I was feeling so warm and glowy watching them paint together with their dedicated expressions on their faces. I imagined hanging the tree branch in their room as a symbol of their sibling love. Oh, it would be wonderful, I thought.

I stepped in the closet for 12 seconds to search for a bottle of glue. Or what is modpodge? It doesn't really matter now. I came out to find Brother Butterfly swirling his fingers in red paint he'd poured over our rental carpet in four heaping glops. I stood there, stunned and horrified while he dipped his fingers in again and squealed with delight.

Nothing makes me feel fully human like my children do. One minute I'm floating on a cloud of joy, and the next I'm scrubbing red carpets and my own tears.

When I'm in the outside world, I rein in my full humanness much more than I'd like to admit. I sometimes laugh politely at bad jokes, and I also sometimes stifle a loud laugh at a hilarious one. I calmly stand in long lines with one child who is whining in the cart and another who I suspect just licked a mirror, and all I want to do is scream toward the front, "hurry up!" When I feel immense pride about an accomplishment, one I've worked hard at for years, I'll change the subject with a friend. I hold back on telling my Mom how much she means to me when she visits.

Children never hold back their humanness like adults do. They laugh loud at the punchline in hilarious books, and burst into tears at the dentist. They will declare exactly what they are thinking, which might be the truest statement you heard all day, at the most inappropriate time. They'll scream with rage at their brother, "don't you touch my blocks ever again!" and a few minutes later, burst into a fit of giggles over a fart. They'll snuggle up close to you and look you in the eyes with their big brown eyes, without wanting to look away.

It's a marvel the way children let their emotions swirl inside them for as long as they need, until they are done with that emotion. Then they are on to the next. They understand themselves so well when we let them. I'm seeing that the more I let their full humanness be something that is seen as normal, the more whole they appear to me and to themselves.

Is feeling fully human part of what makes childhood feel so magical? Perhaps feeling the full scope of being human as an adult, even if that means crying a little more when I need to, and laughing more when I need to, (and screaming "hurry up!" when I want to) is the key to a magical adulthood?

I'll keep you posted!

Behind The Scenes To Keeping Your Cool At The Park With Two

Once upon a time, I dreaded going to the park with both children. Everything was just peachy when Brother Butterfly would sleep in the baby carrier, or simply lay on a blanket in the shade. But once he started walking, it felt like I was spinning in circles trying to make sure both children were safe and having fun. On top of this, I struggled with how to approach playground rules like the great slide debate, and sharing sand toys when I prefer to "sportscast" toy struggles at home. 

These last few months, we've really hit our stride and are enjoying the park so much more, and I'd love to share a few secrets I've learned. 

1. Choose A Fenced In Playground - When I was just watching my daughter who always stayed close by, I never considered needing a fenced park. However, Brother Butterfly is what you may call a "runner" - and will run away as fast as he can the minute you look away. It's scary and I have a newfound respect for parents with multiple runners! I feel instantly relieved if there's a fenced playground, which means I can relax more and keep him safe. Bringing balls and sand toys also keeps his mind off of running. Just make sure other families are closing the gate when they come and go. If I can't go to a fenced playground, then I'll choose a playground with very few people and that makes watching him easier. 

2. Allow Children To Direct Their Own Play - Child-directed play is the play that happens when children choose what delights them, and make their own rules for how to play. There are many benefits and my family has found so much joy in these opportunities. This means I don't tell them what to play with on the playground and how to play with it. I don't invent games or suggest what I think is fun. Instead, they figure things out for themselves and freely decide how they'd like to spend their time. I always sit at a bench or stand close by, and acknowledge what they are doing when they look to me - "Yes, you went down the slide very fast! You look proud of yourself," for example. Though, I usually push them on the swings when they ask, I generally connect with them through simply observing at the park, and connect with them even further during caregiving times. 

3. Don't Lift Children On Equipment - Sister Butterfly has been wanting to learn the monkey bars for the last 6 months. She started with 1 bar, and now she's made it to to 4 bars. She's determined to learn and looks so proud of herself each time she gets to another bar! It's enough to make my heart turn to mush. Though, what may seem unconventional is that I've never helped her by holding her as she crosses. When another parent has helped her across, I feel embarrassed and start to doubt myself. But I know through experience that if I help her across, she will rely on me to help her many more times, and that will take away from her building the confidence to learn it on her own. It also takes my attention away from watching both children, and that can be dangerous. 

What I often say is: If you can safely climb up something yourself, then most likely you will be safe climbing down yourself. Therefore, I won't lift you in places you can't get to yet. Most days both children understand this rule of mine, and some days they beg me for help. In this case, I'll help them in the least intrusive way possible, so that they can achieve it the most independently as possible. For example, instead of holding her across all the monkey bars, I'll stay close and support her back so she feels safer crossing on her own and jumping down. When Brother Butterfly climbs a ladder like it's no big deal (but I'm a nervous wreck he'll fall), I'll stay close by and spot him without interfering. 

Now when we are at the park, both children do what they are capable of doing, and will try new things when they feel ready, because "Readiness is when they do it". They also never have a false sense of security of being able to do things they aren't ready to do yet, which is a real comfort to me. I've seen children fall down playground stairs that they were helped up to climb in a well meaning- way. I wonder if they climbed up the stairs themselves (with a parent close by), figuring out their own movements, where their own hands and feet may go to reach the top safely, if fewer accidents could happen. 

4. Set Expectations Before You Arrive & Set Limits As Needed - Before we arrive at the park, I usually explain to both children that while I support them problem solving their own toy struggles at home, at the park the play structures are shared and I'm also not going to let them take toys out of someone else's hands. We also discuss how climbing up a slide is fine sometimes. However, if the playground is crowded or someone is coming down, then the only option is to wait or go up the stairs. I find this conversation sets them up for success, and they are better able to relax and enjoy themselves knowing the "park rules." 

Even though I let my children direct their own play and even climb up an empty slide, that doesn't mean that I'm not setting limits as needed. Setting limits for safety ("I'm not going to let you throw sand, keep it down low"), and also stopping children from hitting or hurting one another is super important!

5. Give A "You have 5 minutes to do 1 last thing" Warning. I heard a mom say this once and I thought it was brilliant. Her children did their last fun thing (usually the slide. It's always the slide!), and they left without complaint. This nearly works every time for us, but I find that if I get caught up talking during the 1 last thing time, it turns into 42 more things, and it's much harder to leave. 

I'm working on, with calm confidence, respectfully helping them to leave if they are having trouble leaving. I'll acknowledge how much fun they are having and how I can see that would make it tough to go. Then I say, "we can hold hands and leave or you can walk on your own." If someone is particularly tired or hungry (oh it's so hard!), then I firmly hold their hand or pick them up, and usher them to the car as calmly as I can muster. If you have a secret to leaving the park on a tough day, I'd love to know! It's such tricky territory. 

Mamas, I'd love to know, what are your secrets to taking your children to the park and keeping your cool? 

On Child and Mother Milestones

It is through classes and books written by child education expert Magda Gerber, that I learned that babies develop at their own pace, and there is no need to rush them through developmental milestones. Instead, she encourages parents to enjoy the present, and discover what babies CAN DO in the moment rather than motivating them to do more. She said, "Why do we care so much how soon children achieve developmental milestones? Why do many of us want our children to achieve them as early as possible? Pressure damages a child's delicate self-confidence by telling her, 'Be other than what you are.'" 

It was such a joy to lay my children as babies simply on their backs (no baby equipment needed!), the most comfortable and relaxed position for a baby, and allow them to move freely while I sat next to them. Sometimes they'd gaze out the window for awhile, or play with their hands in the sunshine, or reach for a nearby toy. As they felt ready, they intrinsically wanted to roll over, crawl, and eventually walk. There was no need to encourage them to "come to Mommy" or awkwardly walk them around the house to practice. It was so much simpler to remember that "they do what they can do and don't withhold skills. They learn to trust their bodies and minds when allowed to develop confidence in them through trial and error."

Even now, as 5 year old Sister Butterfly finishes her last year of pre-school, I try my best to honor her as a whole person and there is no rush to learn as quickly as possible. These days, her developmental milestones includes learning some academics like numbers and letters, but also taking a family nature walk with more joy and knowledge about what she observes in nature, "That's a Eucalyptus Tree, mama. Smell the leaves! They are good for colds. But Redwood Trees are my favorite."

Nearly 2 year old Brother Butterfly has shown a lot of interest in "potty learning" and has led the way with support from us, but without any pressure, rewards or punishments. He's quite proud of himself. He also laughs at a good joke and said the word, "l...l...lion" as we read The Lion and The Mouse last night. Oh yes, I'm certainly enjoying both children exactly as they are, and the payoff of child-led milestones is wonderful for us all.

I wonder, as parents, if we could relax more about our own milestones, without the pressure and rewards and punishments we put on ourselves to learn parenting as fast as we can. Just the other day, I scolded myself for not being closer to Brother Butterfly when he licked paint off of his paintbrush like a lollipop. "What kind of mother lets a 1 year old paint unsupervised? I've parented for 5 years, I should know better," I said to myself as I dialed poison control staring in dismay at his green stained smiling lips (apparently, eating a little paint is no big deal, as long as you don't mind paint colored poop). 

Perhaps, as mothers, there is no need to be frustrated with ourselves or worried we aren't learning quickly enough. Even if we mess up, or never quite seem to handle something the way we wanted to, we'll get there eventually in our own time and in our own way. Let's allow ourselves to learn at our own pace and feel the joy in what we CAN DO. Since most mamas I meet have the powers of Wonder Woman - and are also creative, educated, loving, and intentional in their relationships with their children, my guess is that who you are is an accomplishment already. 

"All children accomplish milestones in their own way, in their own time."  - Magda Gerber