It seems each child of mine pops up in a whole new stage this time of year. Like a new part of their being is born, new skills are mastered, new ideas are formulated. It’s wild to watch them slide into the next and it’s inspiring too to those of us supposedly past all these developmental spurts.

Our three year old has just learned the art of drawing people. A circle. Two arms. Two legs. Two eyes. And, for him who is obsessed with ears, two of those as well.

The 7 year old has moved onto chapter books and a whole new world awaits her.

The 10 year old is speed skating down the alley in his new roller blades. Olympic dreams in his head.

The 12 year old is drawing like crazy, doing portraits in black and white. In a style we’ve never seen in her drawings before.

These new skills sometimes present in a troubled way at first.  As they work toward the newness, the shift, the big idea, they take a step back. They protest things a little bigger and a little more. They forget things they used to know.

Sometimes I remember that in the shifting comes the discomfort and the agony. But I don’t always. And I ask, “what the heck is wrong with them? Why are they acting this way? Why are they yelling/fighting/resisting/etc.?” And then the newness. And I smack myself on the forehead in recognition of the learning curve.

And me? I’m trying on this new hat of public speaking and loving it. Readings of essays. Story telling. Talks on parenting and slow family and any other topic that hits me close to home. It was a push to my edge at first. Now it’s a new love of mine.

I love spring and all the possibilities it presents. All the newness and the challenges to live our lives more fully as ourselves.

And I love when struggles have an explanation.

At ChildWild blog, one mom of two has a great post about how she slowed things down in her home. She realized that what they were doing wasn’t feeling at all slow, connected or even enjoyable. After careful consideration of both time and money, they quit everything and are now enjoying some freeform afternoons and evenings together as a family. This is what worked for them.

You may remember another post here about another family who examined their busy schedule and realized that yes, this was what they wanted and so, in the midst of all the activities, they were going to find ways to slow down, connect and enjoy things as they were. Not quit things, just be conscious of how they were moving through them.

The point being every family has to find their own slow. It looks different in every household and even within each household it might look different every season. In order to find your family’s slow, ask yourself this question, “Is this working for us?” And if you need a little more guidance than that, you can download our slow family workbook. It has some simple tools for helping each family get where they want to be.

When my oldest was born, I received a lot of advice around parenting. Some applied. Some did not. Some was for the moment. While still others were maybe delivered a little too early or too late.  The piece of advice I got though that really stuck, the one that has withstood the test of time and the one we have been able to apply to all aspects and ages of parenting was from my sister…

“It’s all a phase,” she said.  “So revel in the good ones and know that the bad ones shall pass.”

These words have brought me through the darkest times and at the same time allowed me to really see and appreciate the bright and shiny moments as well.What I have come to know as the ebb and flow of parenting.

Whether I was parenting an infant growing a tooth or falling asleep on my chest for an afternoon nap. Whether I was guiding a toddler through a tantrum or helping him examine a dead butterfly. Whether I was assisting a 7 year old learning the code of our written language, or a 10 year old finding just the right chapter book or a 12 year old navigating the social waters. In all of it I was able to strive for full presence either suffering it or celebrating it – depending on the circumstances. All because I knew that this too shall pass.

Where are you now? Up? Down? In the darkness? Or in the light?

Find a loving ear or a helping hand or a total stranger to share in your joy.

And know that this too shall pass.

Only one other piece of advice has withstood this test of time and this one came from my brother…

“Don’t sweep until the rice dries.”

That one’s useful too.

Where we are now is not where we will always be. I think in parenting this is a really difficult concept to grasp. When we have infants, we are so immersed that it is hard to think our wee ones will one day be walking, talking, joke sharing toddlers. With toddlers, its hard to imagine that we’ll one day (soon even) have big kids that can clear the table on their own and play cards with us. And eventually, all these little people with whom we share our lives and our homes, will one day be adults with whom we will share thoughts, ideas and maybe even go to for advice.

If you want to grasp this concept more fully, that childhood is fleeting and the people we raise will be adults for a whole lot longer than they are children, here’s a fun and simple exercise…

Write down the names and ages of all the people in your immediate family – the parents and the kids. Now add 20 years. That’s it. That’s the whole exercise. The point being that it really does go fast. And the connection we seek then can be put into place now in little and mindful chunks.

Take a day off. Play in the yard. Skip the chores one afternoon and lay around and read together. Greet each other in the morning as if you haven’t seen each other in months. Take ten minutes to listen to a kids’ story about the kid at school. Turn off your phone on occasion. Turn off the screens. Look at each other. Listen. Enjoy each other’s company.

What you put in now will come back to you later a thousand fold.

Oftentimes in our Slow Family workshops I talk about how beautiful it would be to have some sort of talisman on the front of the house to serve as a reminder to all who enter (us mostly) that we are home and that in this home, there is comfort and love and connection and hopefully peace and kindness too. I always loved the mezuzahs that were on the door posts of Jewish households that served this same kind of purpose – that you were home and that this home was a  Jewish home.

Over the past few months I have been pondering what this would look like for us – what would serve as sort of a Slow Family reminder – a reminder to all of us to slow down, connect and truly enjoy family life. Coming in from the outside world seems like a perfect time to have this reminder – to leave all the mess out there and bring in the connection that we all need and love and desire too. And, aside from the sentiment of it, I also knew whatever we used would have to be kind of rugged, and hold up to sometimes grimy fingers, rugged encounters, the elements and time.

When taking out our Christmas decorations this past month I found, hidden in the bottom of one of the boxes, an aluminum star – simply designed and stamped with the word: PEACE. I got out a nail and a hammer and affixed it smack dab in the middle of the door. Over the past month, ach time we enter, we touch it, and the kids ritual is to tap it three times. Even the other day as we were entering, and my 7 year old stood with her arms full of backpack and coat and other sundry items of a first grader, she looked back at me and said, “Can you tap that for me?” Already it has become ritual. Even if I don’t touch it with my hands, I touch it with my eyes and take in its message.

The dictionary describes a talisman as anything whose presence exercises a remarkable or powerful influence on human feelings or actions. This is precisely what I hope our new star will do – have a powerful influence on our actions as we strive to connect as a family. It’s not always easy to live family life in the connected way we want to live it, but it sure is nice to have this physical reminder of our goal. And a reminder too that we are home. Not the building we live in but the people who dwell here.

We’ve made a decision this year to focus on the entire long season as opposed to just one day. In year’s past we always celebrated the pre-season, Advent, and all the festivities leading up to Christmas. This year though we’re extending it even further, beyond New Year’s day even, all the way to the Epiphany. Who doesn’t want to celebrate a day called Epiphany? Religious or not!

Growing up my mom always extended the season all the way to The Epiphany, a.k.a. Three Kings Day and the original meaning behind the 12 days of Christmas. On the Epiphany, we would receive boxes of Cracker Jacks, wrapped up in tin foil, and left on the back porch. As if they were actually left by the three kings. Forget Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh. How about Cracker Jacks?

Over the years that kind of fell out of my own family traditions. But this year again I am embracing the full on season, from December 1 all the way to January 6th. This has taken a lot of the pressure off to get things out on time. We are creating our family packages to be shipped knowing full well they won’t arrive by Christmas, but they just might make it to their destinations before January 6th. We’re doing a community book drive in January and not worrying that it’s not before Christmas. We’re making our holiday crafts this week and next. I may even wrap up some Cracker Jacks in tin foil too while we’re at it!

I’m loving the feeling of extending the season. I’m loving the pressure being off, not that there really was any true pressure, but still. I’m loving also the realization that traditions can come and go and even come back again and morph along the way to suit each family’s needs.

Got any morphing traditions in your house?

I started to spiral a little bit into holiday blues this past week. I was worrying about the consumption of it all and not exactly finding the spirit needed to bring me joyfully into this season. In an effort to combat the blues and bring in the cheer, I made a short list of what I wanted this month…

• connection with family and friends
• celebration of the season
• baking
• crafting
• sharing my good fortunes with others
• kindness
• a spirit of giving
• comfort and joy

As I looked at the list I realized all the things I want are completely attainable. And all are well within my power to make happen. We hung our Advent Calendar (finally) which consists of tiny pockets full of trinkets which get pinned onto the tree. In each pocket I also stuck a little note full of ideas for giving of the spirit. I crafted with some mama friends last night. And today, on this chilly rainy Sunday afternoon in Austin, TX I plan on doing a little holiday baking with the kids. And each time I start to spiral into overwhelm, I’ll look at my list for inspiration.

How do you create the spirit you want around the holidays? Do you know how you want the holidays to look and feel? Will you count down the days with joy this holiday? Or cross them off in a race of endurance?

If you need some ideas, we are having a tele-class Monday night from 7:15-10:00pm central time.