My oldest child is not  graduating from high school just yet but, though I feel like she just started, she is already nearing the end of her freshman year. Didn’t we just finish the arduous process of selecting which high school she’d go to? And how she’d get in without any report cards or test scores to factor in? It’s making my head spin to think about the fact that, as fast as this year has gone, we only get 3 more of those before she’s off into whatever is next. College? Work? Apprenticeship? Who knows. I don’t have to think about that now. Do I? Huh? Okay, okay, I am. And so is she.

And though she’s not quite graduating yet, here’s some things I’d like her to know as she forays further into world exploration on her own terms…

1. In spite of what some adults may tell you, high school is not actually, “the best time of your life.” Sure it can be fun but there’s lots more  to come. And if it is the best time of your life? I’m sorry.
2. Tune into what you love and make decisions based on that. If someone tells you “there’s lots of jobs in statistics” but statistics isn’t really your thing, don’t do it. Tune in first to what you love to do, then make your decisions from that information.
3. Be open to discovering new things that you love. All the time. It is one of the great thrills of life.
4. Treat life like a giant menu. Try a little of this and a little of that until you find the thing that is most delicious. Then order more of that.
5. No decision you make today is truly for the rest of your life. Well, other than birth and death that is. So what you decide today about what you will do or study or practice or where you might go, can be changed. Try it this semester. Change it next. No matter how old you get to be, remember that most decisions can be changed. Just play it by year.
6. If a rule doesn’t make sense, question it. Seriously. There is no harm in asking if rules can be broken. Or in breaking them. Sometimes. Not my rules. But other people’s.
7. People like to help so don’t be afraid to ask. If you are feeling shy about asking, think how good it feels when someone asks you to help them based on your level of expertise. Whether you need help finding your way or getting a job or figuring out a math problem, find someone and ask. If they can’t help you, ask if they know someone who can. Just put it out there and your answers will come.
8. There is no “one way” to do something. Though many will try to convince you that their way is THE way. Do things the way that works for you. Even if someone tells you, “this is the way it’s always been done,” if you think of an easier or more sensible way, do it.
9. Be you. Plain and simple. No matter where you go. Be you. And be the very best you that you can possibly be.
10. Look for the good in people. It’s easy sometimes to find what’s bad or wrong with people, but it feels so much better to see what’s good. When you’re struggling with this, try even harder because you’ll feel so much better when you do.
11. Have fun. Really we’re here to have fun. So even the mundane or monotonous? Make it fun.

I left the house the other night in a bit of a snit and tired. Tired of feeling like a servant. Tired of having to ask people so many times to please empty-your-lunchbox-put-away-your-backpack-get-your-dirty-socks-off-the-floor-put-your-papers-in-the-recycling-clean-up-after-yourself-and-don’t-walk-away-from-the-table-until-it’s-cleared and on and on I could go and actually did.

So I left,  just around bedtime, leaving my husband to tend to the nest, and the teens to tend to their own business while I ran to my friend Carrie’s to ostensibly “throw a load of laundry in the dryer.” Which sounds like a euphemism but it isn’t, because we are currently dryer-less and we did need socks for the morning.

At Carrie’s house, which is right down the street, everything is lovely and there is no yelling. She is a minimalist and her house is always tidy and she barely even wears socks  so the odds of seeing one on the floor or tucked in a couch cushion sort of equals the odds of winning the Powerball.

We sat for a while and I talked myself off the proverbial cliff while the clothes dried. When they were finished we sat a while longer and  I folded laundry on her (modern, white) couch. And as I held each piece up for folding, each one revealed a small story to tell and there was strange power in this simple act of folding. An act I  had performed hundreds upon hundreds of times before. But never with such a willing witness.

And as I pulled each item out – the tiny black boxer briefs of the 6 year old and the favorite t-shirt of the teen and the funny little shorts of the 10 year old that she had worn for YEARS because  her diminutive frame gets longer but never wider. Or her skinny jeans. Her ridiculously sweet and innocent skinny jeans that seemed so impossibly skinny. Garment by garment I  reflected on each one’s  place in our life or the fact that this particular garment now worn by the youngest had been worn by all of his siblings before him. And little did I know that it would be with us for so long. Or why I kept this scarf of mine, so threadbare,  because it used to belong to my sister Alma. Or how this shirt of my husband’s was by far his favorite and had actually been a gift from my mom when the other identical favorite shirt, also from my mom, had died a worn-out death. And how I loved how he looked and felt when he wore it.

It became sort of ridiculous how sentimental this load of laundry was becoming. And how each little piece and each story told, opened up my heart to the love I felt for all of them. And how looking at it all reminded me how impossibly little they still were. And how sometimes, because it seems like they’ve been here so long, I forget their innocence. And it reminded me too that we all need forgiving on occasion.

I went deep and by now I was actually crying – partly from relief that my angst was over. And partly from the absurdity of it all. And I was laughing. And thanking my lucky stars for this witness on my mothering path. And the fact that I have so many amazing, reflective, thoughtful caring witnesses.

I came out the other side of this simple task more in love, more satisfied and more understanding of them and myself than I ever had been before. And I knew I could carry that feeling with me into the next day. And the next and the next after that. And when I ran low on those feelings, I could get a witness to it all, to the mundane and the monotony, and the wonder of motherhood. I could invite someone over to watch me sweep. Or meet up with friends at the park. Or call someone just to talk myself through it. I could connect with my people and connect with my heart in the process.

So find your people, find your partner, find your friends and yell out from the rooftops this Mother’s Day…   “CAN I GET A WITNESS????!!!!!”

Carrie Contey, PhD is the co-founder of Slow Family Living, not to mention a super dear friend of mine. She has wise things to say about babies and children and parents too and I feel lucky to get to have her visit our “lab” of 4 children and 2 parents. It helps immensely!

Recently we were kind of struggling to understand the resident 6 year old as he made his way through the world with some big, giant emotions. Woosh! It was sometimes hard to take.

And then, something busted through. He is learning to read. And the other day? He started dancing like a madman. Truly could. Not. Stop. Himself. Tap shoes were flying and everywhere he went he was like an animated cartoon moving fast and furiously.

Today Carrie writes these wise words…

You know when your child is acting in ways that are hard to handle?

I’m talking about the times when that little growing person is doing the things that push your buttons and make you want to SCREAM (and sometimes you do)? 

Well, it very often means SOMETHING’S COMING. Read more….

Our little guy is literally TAPPING his way into a bigger, brand new human experience. And I’m going to try to remember that.

Thank you Carrie Contey! You are a dream.

The Campaign for a Commercial Free Childhood is a favorite organization of mine. They do a lot of really good work lobbying for rules and regulations about how and where children are marketed towards. They work really hard to keep our schools and school buses commercial free and they generally work hard to inform parents and children everywhere to be aware of the marketing machine that is working really hard to target children. Their work has definitely informed my own parenting and made me ultra aware of the power of the consumption machine.

Nowadays kids are marketed to at every turn. While eating breakfast and watching TV and walking through school and answering the phone. A lot of it is disguised as “information” or “entertainment” which is something I really want my own kids to be aware of. An informed and aware kid is not nearly as susceptible to the marketing tools as an unaware kid.

And I kid you not that more than once I have dissected the language in various catalogs to let them see that what they were trying to sell was a feeling. What they were actually selling were products. In one particular catalog that sells very popular and expensive dolls, one turn through all the pages and my girls were able to see that the languaging promised them, in no particular order: friends, love, happiness, security, popularity and adventure. It didn’t take much to decipher either.

And of course, the abundance of screens that are in our lives these days, in the form of TV, computers, tablets, e*readers and telephones, can be overwhelming bastions of advertising. Not to mention, creativity killers that take away our boredom, the very boredom from which many good ideas can come from.

With that in mind, The Campaign for  A Commercial Free Childhood is hosting Screen Free Week. Yes, you read it right. A whole week of Screen-free time for the whole family. Well, not counting work hours of course. But you know, that time the rest of the day that is spent spinning virtual wheels mindlessly searching, watching, wiling away the hours until bedtime.

What they’re suggesting is that we, as families, fill that time instead with, well, family time. In whatever way shape or form you can. Truth be told, in our house, the screen plays a fairly regular role. When the kids were little I controlled it more but now, with homework seguing easily into Youtube time or FB or whatever, (for me as well as them!) we are on the screens a lot. Especially if you count our collective hours – for 6 people.

Right now we have 2 school nights a week that are already screen-free and for next week we’re going to try to add a few more. It’ll take a little bit of intention on my part. And a decision to be a little more engaged in the evening that I sometimes am. Because I admit, when there is so much to do, it’s sometimes easy to have everyone plugged in and out of my hair.  So I’m going to ask that we shoot for 80% participation as a family. I’d say 100% but I feel like setting the bar a little lower will give us a little necessary wiggle room. Which this family really likes and requires.

So I’m going to buy a brand new box of big fat sidewalk chalk and then here, in no particular order, are 10  things we’re going to replace our evening screen time with next week…

1. family games (Michigan Rummy is waiting)
2. walk to the library
3. craft projects (including using said chalk to make inspiring signs on plywood for all the drivers that pass on our busyy street)
4. yard time
5. basketball in the alley
6. alley art project
7. making cards
8. writing letters
9. getting ready for Maker Faire
10. walks to the middle school track for family relay races

Recently I had the pleasure of speaking with Kristine Carlson, New York Times bestselling author of the Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff for Moms series. We spoke on the topics of parenthood of course and siblinghood and slowing down and speeding up and love and life and death and the heart opening aspects of ALL OF IT! It was a beautiful conversation and though we had never met our conversation flowed as if we had known each other always. Perhaps because we speak a similar language on all of those topics.

You can listen in on our conversation, along with the conversations of 45 other speakers and authors, all on the topics of tending to the very heart and soul of mothering, how to stress less and enjoy your family more. My particular conversation will air on May 8th at 9am Central Time. The virtual “conference” will start streaming the interviews from May 1-May 10th*. You can sign up now for free and for 24 hours after the conference begins as a special Mother’s Day gift. Truly it should be an astounding event and I’m looking forward to listening in.

I went to a retreat on Saturday given by the amazing Carrie Contey, my co-creator in this Slow Family endeavor who now has a beautiful program of her own. She had everybody trouble shooting, with a dose of exploration and experimentation, various parenting issues that came up. One parent talked about how his child really had difficulty with transitions and that the child really resisted these changes. He realized that part of the difficulty was in the fact that the child felt unaware of what lie ahead. “It was like he had no travel itinerary for his own day.”

Head smack for me. OF COURSE!

Imagine going on a trip without knowing what your plans were or what flight you were on or what time your tour started or whether you’d be scuba diving or mountain climbing? Imagine if right before you were about to embark on any portion of it someone rushed in and said, “Okay, come on, get your gear, let’s go! AND HURRY!”

It seems sort of absurd. But really that’s kind of what we do to kids a lot. I try to give ample warning time for things but it doesn’t always happen. I try to keep everyone informed but with 6 people in the house I sometimes end up telling one person twice and another not at all. I try to let them know what’s coming but honestly sometimes I expect people to live inside my head.

But this reminder from this dad about the importance of keeping people informed made me break out the family calendar and start writing things down. Sure I’ve got my electronic calendar but that’s more for me. And we’re not fully-family-tech yet to have a shared electronic calendar. But what we do have is a big giant paper calendar hanging on the wall. It is a great tool. When we use it. And can definitely serve as our family’s travel itinerary from week to week.

So I took it down the other day and sat down with my 10 year old secretary and entered in all the things coming up in the months ahead.  And with just that simple gesture, we should have a bit more of a smooth sail, or plane ride, or road trip – depending on what’s on the agenda. Our own family travel itinerary which should make our travel and transitions way easier.

Randomly I put various parenting techniques into renewed and intensive practice. Like any new skill or habit, I figure if I really focus on something intently and intentionally for 7 days or so, it’ll just become part of my  repertoire.

This week I’m practicing my pivot.

It’s pretty easy in theory. And when I use it, it really helps me out of whatever pent up jam I’m in – be it mad or overwhelmed or resentful or whatever. And it allows me to move on to feeling more good and less bad and get more of what I need and want.

Let’s say, hypothetically speaking of course, we’re all getting home from an outing. As we emerge from the car, everyone runs off, leaving me with all the stuff to carry in from the car. (Remember, HYPOTHETICAL!) So I’m mad. And resentful. Because I want them to help without being asked. (Which they do sometimes just not this “hypothetical” time) I can linger in the mad, and yell at them to come back, using a less than stellar tone. Or…

I can pause. Take a breath. And pivot. Turning in the emotional direction I want to go. Seriously, just like that.

Then I can call them back. With a nicer voice. Leaving the resentment in the dust.

What I usually get in return is  nicer, easier, calmer. Instead of people coming back all mad because I’m all mad which then spirals into a big mess of madness which just takes on a life of its own. (Again, hypothetical of course.)

From my pivoted state, I am not asking for anything different than I was, but I’m asking from a completely different state of being. And hence, with a completely different voice. Which feels better to me and to everyone around me.

You can use it for lots of things, big and small. With family and insurance company representatives.  It’s about shifting how you feel. Making the decision to feel differently than you do. In that very moment of time.

For big things you can take all night long to pivot. Just  make the decision as you’re drifting off  to sleep that when you wake up you’re going to feel different. You’re going to feel better. You’re going to approach whatever or whoever it is from a more positive feeling place and take it from there.

I’ve got some more practicing to do on this one without a doubt. But one thing I know, when I do it, especially at home, I get way more of what I need.

And when I forget, then it’s time to implement the do-over. That might be my practice for next week.

The other day as I got off the bus, I spotted a sweet young couple sitting at a sidewalk cafe. One on each side of a teeny new baby, maybe 2 or 3 months old. They were holding hands over the top of the car seat with one hand and touching her with the other. It was the picture perfect scene of a new family falling in love with each other. Fatigued but satisfied and sort of in amazement at this little life between them.

As I walked by I smiled and said “Aren’t you a sweet and beautiful picture!”  And my heart opened up to take it all in and to marvel at the perfection, the appreciation, the simplicity and the unfathomable love of it all.

As I walked the rest of the way home I could feel the effects of that sighting on my psyche. Bliss. Joy. Happiness and deep love for mankind. And I realized, that same feeling I had when I glimpsed that little family, that was how I would greet my own sweet little family too when I walked in the door.  I would see them with that wide open heart. And I would comment to each and everyone of them how sweet and beautiful they were.

I laughed to myself and wondered aloud why I would do it any other way??!! (And I think at this point any passers by were wondering what I was on or up to.)

So many times on my way home my head starts spinning with logistics: who is going where, who needs what, what will supper be, what moods are people in, is there bread for lunches tomorrow and on and on. And instead, for that moment, I was going to let all that stuff go in the name of feeling the big, deep love. The logistics would wait. Because really, wondering whether there was bread wasn’t going to make bread appear or disappear.

So when I got home, there they all were, in the livingroom, at the table, on the couch, on the floor and I looked at each and every one of them, as individuals and as an entity, and I said, “Aren’t you a sweet, beautiful picture!”

Simple as that*. And my heart opened up a little wider still.

*If this sounds ridiculously simple, it’s because it really and truly is!

My kids made up a new game last week. Partly inspired by ultimate Frisbee, partly by rugby and partly by the fact that we took a ball to a big giant field that just beckoned some kind of big, giant game.

All week they’ve been playing – in the yard, in the alley, on the beach and then back to that same big, giant field. I’ve played a few times. Everyone can play. It’s a game for all ages and abilities.

All week it’s evolved, with a few rules being added here and there and a few ideas dismissed after consideration by the group or after realizing it just didn’t work. Over time, the size of the goal has changed, where and how the game begins has been established (after one rather Hunger Games beginning ended up in a head crashing) and a few other dictates determining fairness, point tallies and strategy. One rule that I especially love is that each person on the team has to touch the ball before a goal can be made. The little sister in me always appreciates any rules that help. The rules are made by various kids playing and there is no time that isn’t an okay time for adding or changing or eliminating a rule.

I have loved watching this game come to life and we can already see this game will have a long term place in our family’s game repertoire. What I love more than the game itself is watching the game unfold from the depths of my kids’ imaginations. With each idea presented and rule established I can see their brains working out problems and creating solutions.  They are determining excitement, fairness, fun, duration, etc.

It is just this sort of thing that many experts are saying is eliminated from the childhood experience whenever there are too many dictates from adults or structured play or no play at all. It is the kind of game playing I remember from my own childhood – the creation of any game being part of the actual game itself. Like watching little kids play house where more than half the time they are planning and plotting the roles and rules – and that IS the play.

And I realize this is kind of how I view the whole idea of Slow Family too. There are no dictates or structures from others – there are only the rules that you as a family establish. You can beg, borrow or steal rules from other families you see and love, then interpret them on your own. Or you can make them all up completely, brand new family, brand new game.

It is what I mean when I ask families to ask of themselves, “Is this working for us?” Do you like how the game is being played? Does it seem fun? Fair? Exciting? If it does, keep the rules you currently have. If it doesn’t, make up your own rules. Add in new ones or eliminate old ones. It’s your game! And you can change the rules as you go along.

I was approached by a mom once, someone whose world randomly intersected with mine both professionally and personally. She was a mom of two littles and I at the time had my three. She had recently seen this picture of me and with a slight twinge of accusation and envy, and a huge dose of fatigue, she said, “UGH! How do you do it? You always make it look so easy breezy. You’re like a mother cover girl.”

I don’t remember exactly what I said next but I think it had something to do with me spitting out my coffee. And then laughing for several minutes uncontrollably, with tears in my eyes.

Occasionally yes, it’s breezy. And even easy. And when it is I try to take notice of those moments in time. Those moments when things are going exactly as I imagined they could go. But mostly, where I live, in a house with 6 people, the line between calm and chaos is a thin one indeed. But what she perceived in that snapshot wasn’t even close to what was.

Which is often true from the outside looking in. Like in this photo. That isn’t even close to a look at the big picture.

Because in one hand, the hand that you can’t see, the one that’s cut out of the photo completely? I’m holding the hand of a rather frantic toddler who is standing precariously on top of a bucket and who is about an hour or so past her naptime and who resisted the idea of lunch just before that and who has hit the proverbial wall of toddler meltdown brought on by the dreaded combination of hunger and fatigue. In the other hand? The one she thought was some sort of handmade bag of fabulous vintage material? Well, that’s actually said toddler’s pants. Full of pee. Which at the moment right before this photo was taken was dripping down my arm. Into the sleeve of my fab dress. 

So the look that to the onlooker seemed to be the very picture of easy-breezy was actually an expression of surrender-to-it-all, if-I’m-not-laughing-I’m-crying, this-is-my-life-and-this-is-what-it’s-like, holy-sh*t.

Since this exchange we’ve added another member to our family and a little more chaos, and in all that time I’ve been aware of the danger of looking in on someone else’s life and thinking I know their whole story.  I know that what I see is a snapshot. A blink. And that I have no idea what’s on their plate at any given moment in time. If I find myself judging – the real of the the virtual, the good or the bad – I know my judgment isn’t really about them at all. But about me. About how I”m feeling in that moment of time. And about what I need. To make me feel whole and happy.