Category: Parenthood

Freedom to Climb

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“Freedom is not worth having if it does not include the freedom to make mistakes.” – Ghandi

Last night we were hanging out in front of our neighbor’s house. My toddler had laid down his strider bike in order to play with their toys and my daughter was climbing trees wearing the tennis shoes I’d just washed for her that day. I was intently talking with my neighbors about how much neighborhood freedom we should afford our older kids when my daughter slipped and fell from the tree she was climbing. She didn’t fall far but her foot got stuck in the fork of the tree so she was hanging upside with her hands on the ground, scared and crying. I picked her up and her foot came loose, then I turned her over so she was cradled in my arms.

Through her tears she breathlessly choked out, “I think we need to…” and the neighbors and I hung on the next words (go to the hospital? get a band-aid?) “…wash my shoes again.”

It was hard not to let out a big snort of laughter and relief. She’s fine.

To Sit or To Stand

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“Our bodies are our gardens – our wills are our gardeners.” – William Shakespeare

My friend Phil guided big mountains for more than 40 years. His adventures have included guiding Dick Bass when he dreamed up the Seven Summits goal to climb the tallest mountain in each continent, being the first American to climb the Chinese side of Mt. Everest, and after climbing all seven summits in his 30’s, he did them all again in his 50’s with his wife when she wanted to reach the goal. When I met him 20 years ago, he had just summitted Mt. Rainier for the 400th time and I’m not sure where the count stands today but somewhere around 500. All that is to say, he’s climbed and guided a lot. And the only person he lost in a mountaineering accident was his assistant guide on Mt. Denali. They had two rope teams coming back down from the summit when a client on the assistant’s rope team started having trouble with a crampon on his boot. The assistant guide unclipped from the rope to help and then fell to his death.

I think of this story when I realize I’ve extended myself too far to help someone. I have a very strong tendency to “dig deep” when I need to access that extra gear to pull through. I learned it from climbing – that extra push to get to the summit and that auxiliary well to draw from when the conditions change and getting to back to the parking lot is farther and tougher.

With parenting, I find myself digging deep a lot. When a child needs help with that last 1000 feet to the car and I put them on my shoulders. Or something falls through with child care and I need to take care of my kids in the day and work at night. Or another parent in our village has an emergency so I change my plans to pick up the slack and have to cancel my self-care time. Or COVID hits and everything is canceled…

All very worthy reasons that I’m more than happy to dig deep for. But when I climb into bed exhausted for the 300th night in a row and my hips and back ache because I spent another day “digging deep,” I wonder if this is the way to live. That is to say, am I destroying myself because I don’t know my limits when I should say stop and rest?

Then this delightful post from the MSW Blog reminded me of something else I learned from mountain guides. It was my very first climb when I learned this maxim from them: If you can stand, you can sit and if you can sit, you can lie down. And when I see Phil these days, he exudes that. He’s retired from guiding and looks as completely at ease sitting back in his leather chair as he did on the mountains. And he’s still full of mountain wisdom that tells us you can’t lead a team if you aren’t caring for yourself too.

Directly to the Heart

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“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” – Maya Angelou

We were driving in the car when my almost six-year-old daughter asked, “What do you do with a dog’s body when it dies?” I answered that you take it to the vet and they take care of it. She said, “You mean they burn it, put it into a little vase, and you can put it somewhere to come visit like with Bumpa [her grandfather]?”

Ha, ha – the beauty of directness! There is something to be said for that. And since I come from a family that specializes in subtlety, especially when expressing emotion, it’s something I need to work on. Just being able to say, “I’m mad” has a refreshing kind of direct ownership.

But I write this knowing a bunch of writers will read this and agree that being direct and telling a story are two different things. Knowing that my dog’s ashes are sitting in the cherry box on the mantel doesn’t begin to touch the story of being with him through his last moments as he bravely both let me know he was ready to go and licked my tears as I said good-bye to him, my amazingly beautiful, goofy and loyal companion of almost 14 years. Visiting my dad in the Memorial Garden has very little to do with his choice to be cremated and interned and everything to do with wanting to hear his sonorous voice say just once more time, “It’s going to be great, Kid!” It’s the stories I have so about both of these characters that celebrate the whole-hearted and loving way that they both lived and give all the reasons we miss them now.

So I’ll continue to tell stories as we have our time for deep talks in the car. After all, her questions lately have been about homelessness (like in this post), drugs, and now death. It seems big topics deserve a lot of human understanding that only stories can bring.

Put Down the Controls

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“Grace isn’t a little prayer you chant before receiving a meal. It’s a way to live.” – Jacqueline Winspear

The other night I went in to check my toddler in his crib before I went to bed. I slipped in and the movement awakened him. I heard him sit up and roll over so I stood there motionless until I thought he’d settled back down. I knew it wasn’t long enough for him to really fall back asleep but I stepped out anyway, too exhausted after walking 17,849 steps while caring for two children all day to stand there any longer. And he started crying. He was upset because of something I did and I was too exhausted to do anything about it but to silently curse myself.

As I listened to him crying through the wall, I had this moment when I realized that I’ve created no space for the Divine in my parenting. That is to say, I think everything is my responsibility and my fault. When I delivered each of these two miracles, there was no denying that they were these perfect gifts from God but then I’ve taken the job and responsibility of a parent so seriously that I have forgotten I’m not in control.

I’ve come so far in the other areas of my life to have faith and to see how everything comes together for good. My dad dies and then in the same year my daughter is born. A project is delayed because of a reorganization at the client company and then I have time when the request comes in from my favorite non-profit to help with their technology. I’ve started see this beautiful symphony of how it all works out. I’ve relaxed into trusting the Divine hand in the flow of life and so even when I don’t understand, I’ve learned patience to find out the why that will reveal itself sooner or later. I’ve let go of a lot of control and in return seen the give and take of this beautiful mystery of life.

But parenting and the fun, funny and tough moments and the mistakes I make while being in charge, I take so personally. In my enthusiasm to do a great job, I have completely forgotten that enthusiasm means “with God”. I made the choice so intentionally to become a single parent, I forgot that is only in this dimension but if I look higher, I have a partner in this most important and meaningful job.

My dad had this phrase, “You have to care less without being careless.” He was talking about golf. But his years as a pastor infused a wisdom that overlaid most everything he said. In this game of life, I need to relax my grip and care a little less about parenting so that God can help me swing everything.

My son cried after I woke him up for only a minute or two. It was long enough to have this epiphany. Like magic that challenges our assumptions about what we know and see, the Universe used that moment of exhaustion and disappointment to startle me out of my insistence that I am in control.

Newfound Celebrity

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“Follow your inner moonlight; don’t hide the madness.” – Allen Ginsberg

On Tuesday night my daughter was on the news. It was a complete fluke. I rounded my kids up to go out for popsicles about 10 minutes from where we live instead of our go-to gelato place up the hill. The popsicle place was closed so we ended up going back to the usual place in our neighborhood. When we got there a camera crew was wanting to interview the gelato staff about how people are dealing with the upcoming heat wave. We were at the counter and they asked if they could interview us outside. I had no desire to be on camera but my soon to be 6-years-old daughter was excited so I said “yes” for her benefit.

They were so gentle and asked her lots of questions about how she plans on beating the heat. She said she was excited for it because, “Let’s see, I think I’d go to spray parks.” And whether she minded the heat and she answered she didn’t because it was special to eat ice cream in the heat because otherwise “It’s not so special because it’s not so hot.” Those were the quotes they used – she answered all their questions pretty darn well and when it was done she said. “It’s my dream come true to be on tv.” All before she is 6. 🙂

My toddler just got to sit at the table and eat his gelato which he did enthusiastically because I think he was happy to be able to just sit there without anyone messing with his portion. But as they zoomed in on his face, his sister’s spoon enters the frame and steals a bite so the encroachment that is his lot in life was well-documented on tv!

And they asked me questions too. I’ve done some public speaking and also a lot of training classes so I was surprised at how different it was to be interviewed. I felt this complete tunnel vision so that I couldn’t think independently of what they were asking me. And this was just a fluff piece! I felt so much sympathy for anyone being interviewed or questioned about anything serious. It made me sense how strongly we seek approval when we speak.

As they were wrapping up and we were finished with our ice cream, my daughter asked for the car keys. I told her no because there are good reasons to be on the news and bad reasons to be on the news. The camerawoman overheard this and laughed. My daughter asked what the bad reasons to be on the news were. As I ticked off because you’ve been in an accident or have done something wrong, I was glad to see that her newfound celebrity hadn’t pierced her curiosity and independent thinking in the least!

Enjoying the Summer

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“We love because it’s the only true adventure.” – Nikki Giovanni

Summer is coming to an end. It’s the month of August, my nanny had to leave to continue with her work and education, school starts in three weeks and I’m feeling like I have to enjoy this last bit of summer, especially the long days I get to spend with my kids. But I have to work as well. So I feel this tear between should be enjoying and having to get it done. And if I really think about it, I realize that I feel that pull most of the time. I feel like I am supposed to be treasuring these days with my young kids. When I shared this feeling/fear with my friend, Emily, her reply was, “Having the pressure to enjoy everything in parenthood is not very helpful or realistic in my opinion.”

Right! Pressure to enjoy is definitely an oxymoron. Yet on the other side is the advice that I’ve been given so many times, “Enjoy this time, it goes so fast.” I’m old enough to be able to tick off entire decades of my life – my 20’s, 30’s and 40’s have all gone by and yet when I was a kid doesn’t seem all that long ago. Writing it down here I see that enjoying my kids while they are young can bleed into an effort to be the perfect mom. There is a fine line between mindfulness and perfectionism.

I think of every mountain I’ve climbed and what I remember of those trips. The first time I made it to the top of Mt. Rainier at 14,400 feet, I was so cold, I huddled in the lee of some snow and rocks with the other people that were on my rope who were also freezing. I managed to stand long enough to take a picture of a sea of clouds surrounding us and then we headed down. We’d spent 3 days getting to that one spot, spent 15 minutes on top and then carefully started back down. I remember some particulars about the route we took that day, especially the big scary parts but have forgotten most of my footsteps. But the feeling of trying, and of that step where I finally gained the summit, the comradery with teammates, the love of the outdoors, the presence of God in all of it travels with me wherever I go.

This gives me great comfort in my parenting because I think climbing and parenting share similar goals: to survive, to be present so as to take in as much of God’s creation as possible, and to participate in an adventure that changes you. It convinces me that I neither have to remember nor enjoy every moment, just the journey. I suspect that all my kids will remember from this young age is the feeling of it all. If I walk away from this stage of parenting remembering the feeling of trying, snapshots of the big milestones we reached, a deep relationship with my kids, a shared love of the outdoors, and the presence of God throughout it all, I’ll consider it a very successful adventure indeed.

A Safe Place

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“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. ‘Pooh!’ he whispered. ‘Yes, Piglet?’ ‘Nothing’ said Piglet taking Pooh’s paw, ‘I just wanted to be sure of you.’ “ – A. A. Milne from The House at Pooh Corner

The other day I picked my son up from preschool and my daughter from spending an afternoon with my mom and from the instant we were in the car together, the fussing started. My daughter was covering my son’s eyes and he didn’t like that, she didn’t like her attempts at play not being well received and the crabbiness mushroomed from there.

As a mom with two young kids, I’ve thought a lot about being someone’s safe place. My kids fuss, fret and freely object with me in a way that they don’t with anyone else. Often it’s after they have been somewhere else and behaved marvelously according the reports I get, that they fuss the most. It’s as if holding themselves together comes with this letting down of the hair with me. I’m pretty patient but whining gets my goat. I don’t whine (not out loud at least) and I hate (thinking about whether there is a less potent word to be used here but nope, hate is accurate) when my kids whine. Crying, having a fit, objecting strongly – all of that I can handle but whining, especially symphonic whining that moves from one kid to the next and ARGH!!

It’s the idea of being someone’s safe place that both fascinates and saves me. In a world where it’s not possible to be happy all the time but not acceptable to express anything but happiness, safe places are where we get to act out that shadow side. Our safe people are the ones who can help us process the grime that collects during the day and practice shaking it off, sometimes by creating friction and rubbing up against others who help us shine again.

When my daughter was about 3-years-old she became very interested in the Narrator in the Winnie-the-Pooh chronicles. She wanted to know who the voice was that was providing context and integrating the story. She’d want me to pretend I had a microphone and narrate her activities. I’ve come to think of being my kid’s safe place like being that personal narrator – someone who helps them understand the bigger story around the things they are seeing and learning when out and about in the world. Someone who helps them figure out how they are feeling and reacting to it all.

Once I learned from Mark Nepo that the German root of the word friendship means place of high safety it changed how I think of that hallowed ground between friends. Because I believe we do the same thing for our friends that I do for my kids – we help each other work out our stories. We listen to the bumps, bruises, moments of awe and renewal again and again if necessary until we work out our narratives.

When I see it that way, I feel less abused by the acting out. While I’d prefer that I bring out the best in my kids, I can handle when it seems I bring out their worst. I can find grace for the fact that I’m allowing the authenticity of my kids to show and opening the opportunity to talk about our values, respect for others and ways of handling things when we are overloaded with information and activity. And when I sometimes growl, “Stop whining” which isn’t my best either I’m glad I get to work that out in my safe space too.

Cultivating Play and Rest

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“Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted.” – Albert Einstein

Yesterday my sister-in-law took my daughter for the day and my son was in daycare, I had an entire day to myself. This is so rare, especially since COVID came and we have all been packed into the house on most days. I’ve had a few hours here and there but a whole day?? Of course I needed to work, the house was a mess and I had a to-do list as long as my arm so I was far from bored but the real question was, did I know what refills my cup?

Brené Brown has been doing this podcast series on The Gifts of Imperfection as it’s the 10 year anniversary of that book. And there is a particular guidepost in it “Cultivating Play and Rest – letting go of exhaustion as a status symbol and productivity as self-worth.” It was a reference that Brené made in a podcast to this guidepost and the work of Dr. Stuart Brown, psychiatrist, clinical researcher and founder of the National Institute for Play, that got me interested to read the Gifts of Imperfection in the first place. That to be whole-hearted, that is to say, fully awake and involved in life, we need to play.

My first thought when hearing about cultivating play was that I am a mother of young children, I should be all about play. My second thought was I have no idea what play is for me anymore. When I got my first night off from parenting when my daughter was about two years-old, I went out to drink wine with a friend. It was fine but I ended up feeling like I wasted that precious time. The second time I had an overnight break from parenting was when my daughter was three years-old and I went on a meditation retreat. It was so lovely to eat organic food, do yoga, meditate and cut out pictures for my vision journal. It really worked to refill my cup but isn’t very practical to do very often. The same goes for hiking which is my all-time go-to for refilling my cup but often takes too much time driving to do on these rare days off.

Here’s what I’m slowly realizing about cultivating play and rest for me. I know I’m still learning because I’m trying to be the most productive at rest. 🙂 But with that said, rest for me always involves some combination of reading, writing and exercise. Being quiet including turning off extraneous noise like the tv in the background is important. I never clean my house when my kids are gone unless it’s part of tackling a project that is fun for me. I try to reach out to at least one person that is key to my health and sanity. And when I’m very lucky, I go to a rarely visited neighborhood and find a place to eat lunch with a book.

Last night when my kids were returned to me, I listened to their reports from the day and we galivanted around the neighborhood and talked with neighbors, I felt like a new (renewed?) person. Someone who had a refilled cup to share with everyone else.

Out in the Open

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“One climbs, one sees. One descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen. There is an art in conducting oneself in lower regions by memory of what one has seen higher up. When one can no longer see, one can at least still know.” – Rene Daumal

Last night we sat on a picnic blanket eating our umpteenth meal outside and on the go, I marveled that my kids rarely fuss when we are outside. It reminds me of a story I once heard about a Hindu sage and his apprentice.

The apprentice was constantly complaining so the sage put a handful of salt in a glass of water and said, “drink the water.” The apprentice took a drink and when the master asked how it tasted, the apprentice said, “Bitter.” Then the master took a handful of salt and put it in a lake. He asked the apprentice to drink from the lake and when the master asked how it tasted the apprentice said, “Fresh.” The master then said, “Be the lake, not the glass.”

Sitting on the picnic blanket with my kids leaning against me, a gentle breeze keeping us cool, looking up at the vivid blue sky, it was easy to be the lake. Reminded me of Ella Fitzgerald singing, “Summertime and the livin’ is easy.” It must be why God made summer. Having these times to practice easy living and the expansive view makes it easier to remember being the lake for all the rest.

Living Life

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“Life is what happens to you when you are busy making other plans.” – John Lennon

This morning as I was enjoying my treasured quiet moments to do yoga, meditate and write, I saw that we still had the croquet wickets set up in the back yard. Before I sat down to write, I thought I’d better go pick them up. I went out the back yard, triggered the house security alarm, woke the kids up and caused the complete opposite of quiet.

So as I was cursing my stupidity and ruing that I had cut my own quiet time short, I picked up my toddler and we went into my daughter’s room and spent a delightful half hour, snuggling, calming down, telling stories, playing peek-a-boo, thumb wrestling. And once I forgave myself enough to accept the change of plans delivered directly from the Universe, I experienced a moment of pure truth that no experience is wasted.

It reminded me never to get too busy writing about life so that I miss living life.