The Joy of Celebration
early afternoon easter sun. late afternoon shadows in bruce's gardern.
I absolutely adore celebrations. Not only do they provide an opportunity to put my creativity to work on more focused level, now that I am a parent, they also allow me to give to my daughter in a more profound way than I do in the everyday.
Celebrations serve to pass on culture and values to children. Since I am committed to living consciously, I want to make sure that I am making choices in my family, as well as in all areas of my life, that are in-line with my values and beliefs, to make sure that I am living authentically. This is a premise of Life Coaching and one reason that I was drawn to it. I enjoy supporting others in identifying their goals and values and designing their lives according to them. It is all too common to get caught up in everyday pressures, as well as pressures others impose on us, and before we are aware of it, we aren't living authentically. Nor are we parenting authentically.
While I value these more serious elements of celebrations, which include connecting with our own parenting beliefs, connecting with each other and with the transitions of the life, I also believe they are a time to have fun and enjoy each other. That just feels good! And bear with me a moment while I circle back to the previous point, we all learn best when we are having fun. (That's why I make sure my NYC Parenting and Family Workshops are fun, while I'm presenting material that is serious in nature.)
With this commitment to authenticity in mind, I prepared a Easter and Welcoming Spring Celebration with my toddler.
To honor my desire to keep our food as healthful and chemical-free as possible, we went the natural route described on Slashfood when dyeing our Easter Eggs. We used frozen blueberries, one of Ariella's favorite foods. Along with two tsp. of white vinegar, we put them in a pot with just enough water to cover the uncooked eggs.
This dyeing technique was a toddler's dream--sticking her hands in a pot full of purple water and squeezing each of the berries until the juice popped. Below is a photo of the eggs, which will give you an idea as to the actual colors they took on, after boiling for fifteen minutes and then sitting in the water for about two hours. Keep in mind I used brown eggs from the farmer's market, each with its own "imperfection."
the beauty of natural imperfection
Originally, we planned to draw on the eggs with our Stockmar beeswax crayons, but the eggs were so striking that we held off.
While Ariella slept, I placed them on the table with all of the other Spring Bounty: a wooden bowl full of Clementines, a plant that Ariella picked out for herself called pocketbook flower, and a basket full of some of her other favorites, including grapes, plastic eggs with balls inside, bubbles and almond cupcakes with Cacao Bliss icing. And a stuffed bunny acting as a sentinel to keep Kitty away.
The next morning, I was behind the scenes, as we parents often are, quietly experiencing a heart filled with the joy of giving and watching with wonder at my child's discoveries.
Later we took the baskets out for our picnic and the Easter bunny made off with the eggs, hiding them at the base of a copse of trees. After we found them, we went looking for that mischievous bunny, who left his ears behind.
i heard he went that-a-way, around the corner!
I'd love to hear how all of you celebrate. I invite you to share in the comments section below:
Think before Shouldn'
want to feel some guilt? should on yourself
want to feel some anger? should on someone
want to feel both and then pass them on? should on children
On the Road, Prescott AZ
i'm up for a drink of this scenery while in prescott
I'm presenting the updated "Key to Cooperation: What Every Parent Wants to Know" Strengthening Family Connections workshop in Prescott, Arizona, on Monday, March 10, at 6:30 pm. Sarah Edmonds, who runs Precott's NVC parenting group, invited me and I'm thrilled about the possibilities! I've spiced up this talk a bit more and can't wait to try it out.
This is one of those openings that happen when some paths close and I keep on moving forward. I guess that's why I was so drawn to this image when thinking about this post. According to the photographer, Farol, is a "view of Watson Lake from the Peavine trail in the Granite Dells outside of Prescott, Arizona."
I find it fascinating that the water level is 10 feet below normal. A drought? Not from Farol's perspective, nor mine as I view his shot, an image of ever increasing possibility.
When I look at it, I see the path the water is cutting, widening and leading out to the horizon, and the vivid greens in the foreground, and the character of the rocks. Even with the brewing storm I want to be there, to see and experience this magnificence.
This shot reminds me of life. And parenting. The beauty lies in the acceptance that it ain't perfect and things aren't always as they seem. And there is so much beauty in the dry parts as well as the stormy parts.
It's the "big picture" that holds the miracle, so beautiful and stunning it hurts--
Just like a child.
How Connection Breaks Down Between Mother Bear and Little Bear
a post-birthday bowl of "birthday soup"
While
I was working today my just-turned-two-year-old
brought me this bowl of bean and vegetable birthday
soup. I want to share it with you because the colors
are just so yummy as are the little hands that
delivered it. Following the lead of of Little Bear in
the story "Birthday Soup" from the book
Little Bear,
which
she received for her birthday, Ariella presented
me with her creation with such joy. We have read
“Birthday Soup” over and over and OVER and OVER
again in the last few days. If you have a young
child, I bet you understand my emphasis here quite
well.
"Birthday Soup" captivates my daughter and has
definitely shaped her play. The influential nature of
media has had me thinking for quite a while as well
as culling children’s books around here. If nothing
else, by the simple act of repetition, children are
internalizing the language, story lines and pictures.
And I believe there is much more to it than the
repetition.
As we discuss in the Connection Parenting
Workshops,
children learn most everything by what they see,
hear and experience. The American writer
James Baldwin
sums
it up well: "Children have never been very good at
listening to their elders, but they never fail to
imitate them." In the beginning, parents are
children’s most prominent models. As children grow
older, though, most of us want to continue to
influence their lives. But how many of us parent
with the awareness that the level of guidance
children accept from us depends on their
attachment to us or, in other words, the amount of
connection they feel with us?
So
back to Little Bear as Ariella’s model du jour and
his cooking birthday soup for his friends. In spite
of reading it over and over, I do see why she loves
this story so much. It is an adorable tale as is the
first on in the book, “What Will Little Bear Wear?”
As a Family Communications Educator and Life Coach
who often focuses on guiding parents into greater
connection with children, I have often seen the
benefit of increasing awareness about communication
styles and parenting practices that do the opposite
of our intention, leading to disconnection with those
precious beings we love so much. So let’s do that
with Little Bear and his mother.
Like many of us, Mother Bear starts out as a loving
and supportive parent. It’s about half way through
the book that her ability to connect starts to break
down. Maybe she's tired and needs more support, more
information and more effective communication skills.
She definitely hasn't had any help in these stories.
According to Pam Leo, "Parenting was never meant to
be a one or two person job."
It’s in the book’s third story, “Little Bear Goes to
the Moon,” that her negative, limited and
disrespectful side starts to show. Mother Bear begins
telling Little Bear all of the things that he can’t
do. This culminates with her stating flatly why she
believes he can’t fly, which he has gone to the
extent of building a space helmet to do. “And maybe
you are a fat little bear cub with no wings and no
feathers,” she says.
Huh? Mamma Bear, where'd that come
from?
I wouldn’t want someone I love (or anyone for that
fact) to talk to me in that way. And what if they
did? Well, I certainly wouldn’t feel respected or
honored in our interaction. Nor would I feel
particularly inclined to cooperate with this person.
I would feel hurt and suspect. I would wonder if this
person is safe and worthy of trust with the big stuff
that this business of living tends to throw at me.
Hmmmm….Doubt it.
In
the last story, “Little Bear’s Wish” the scenario is
similar. Mother Bear again tells Little Bear that he
can’t have the wishes that he is daydreaming about
before going to sleep at night. What is it about this
“voice of reason” that compels people to negate and
direct other’s wishes and dreams? Would it not be
more loving for Little Bear to experience his mother
as someone who believes in him and hears all his
wishes without negating them, whether they are
reasonable or not? How different would it be growing
up close to someone who would talk to him about what
he is really thinking about, who for a moment will
allow herself to see through his eyes? Is Little Bear
learning an early lesson about Mother Bear's ability
to listen to him and be on his side?
Children need to experience a parent as an ally. Even
if it means adults setting aside that "voice of
reason" for a bit and really listening to children’s
hopes, dreams and fears, reasonable or not. Children
need parents who can empathize and support them. This
is one of the touchstones of safety and trust. A
child who can trust and feel safe with a parent is
much more likely to bring those ever more complicated
growing-up issues to them for discussion.
And what about Mother Bear? Could her parents have
treated her the same way? Probably. Could the
relationship between Little Bear and Mother Bear
suffer? Probably. Will Little Bear eventually tire of
Mother Bear’s negativity, degrading comments and
manipulations? I imagine so. And then what will he
do? Look for others to connect with and attach to,
usually peers who don’t qualify as the type of
guiding figures most parents want for their children?
Will Little Bear choose relationships that have the
same qualities as the one he’s running from?
It is not my intention to give Mother Bear a hard
time. In fact, I've had my own Mother Bear alter-ego
at times. Feeling depleted and not having enough
support is a one-way road into the bear's den. Mother
Bear probably wasn't getting her needs met either.
And I doubt she had any awareness of how her actions
may impact her child, nor even an awareness that
there is another way to parent. The parent must
receive what she is to give her child, in some way,
from somewhere, from someone. It is my hope that
Mother Bear finds that someone.
SIDEBAR: This book is part of the "I Can Read"
series, yet in no way am I advocating using these
books to teach very young children to
read.
The ever increasing pressure on children to
advance is developmentally risky business. We use
them as any other book for a two year old, to
enjoy the story and images.
From Pam Leo, Creator of Connection Parenting
yeah, ma, you...
Pam Leo emailed me the following about my work facilitating the NYC Connection Parenting Workshops:
"Rosie...Thank you so much for all the energy and creativity you put into promoting Connection Parenting, you inspire me! We ARE making a difference in the lives of families and in the world."
I enjoy being appreciated.
Connecting with Children in the Everyday
yesterday: sunset: isham park: snowman.
So what does this maintaining connection stuff look like anyway? In the everyday, when things are going well and we don't even know were are at risk for flubbing it? I'm not talking about the obvious parenting challenges here. The ones we address in the NYC Connection Parenting Workshop Series or in the myriad reasons that parents may call a life coach. I'm talking about during average everyday experiences when we are on autopilot (ok, so we are usually on autopilot when we flub it under stress, too) and we aren't aware of how a child may interpret our actions.
Here's a snippet:
"Ohhhh!" My 2-year-old daughter calls out. "Snowman!" She stops abruptly and points at the white rectangle painted on the stone steps that wind down from Isham Park.
Well, who am I to tell her it isn't?
I hold on to the urge to "correct" her, to inform her about the world, to make sure she knows all the reasons why this can't and will never be a snowman, to teach her what this "really" is. To say "No."
I hold on tightly to that impulse that overtakes us adults. That compulsion to pull children from their world into our logical one, even when it may not be in their best interest to do so. This "No" is the one that makes her "wrong" and risks whittling away a small part of her child-like, creative, joyful being with the chisel of reality.
Instead, for that second, I give over to her and her snowman. I live with her in her moment in time, her world. I began to "see" through her eyes. Now I am her ally, the leader who understands her. I relax into connection.
"A snowman!" I say as I bend down. "What's he doing?"
"Sleeping."
"Can you show me?"
She points into the rectangle's whiteness.
"Do you want me to take a picture of him?"
"Yes." She seems content. My heart feels full.
We move on.