Why Haven’t I Learned Yet?

Last night I lay in bed discouraged. What had started as a beautiful, fun, spontaneous day had turned into a challenging, exhausting, frustrating afternoon and evening. I watched my now-peaceful son sleeping next to me and hated myself for the totally not-mindful mama I felt I acted like the past few hours. I know better. I read about it, I write about it, I talk about it endlessly—how to be a mindful, intentional, responsive, and respectful parent. So why haven’t I learned how to do it yet?!

The following were questions about this issue of responding mindfully that I jotted down last night when I was too tired to write here:

·      Why haven’t I learned that just because I am progressing down my to-do list it doesn’t mean Kalev doesn’t need me right at that exact moment?

·      Why haven’t I learned that even if Kalev just had a three-hour nap that he could still be tired?

·      Why haven’t I learned that it is more important to dance with my son than do the dishes or make dinner?

·      Why haven’t I learned that cuddling and nursing until Kalev signals he’s ready for the next activity would prevent the battle for my attention and my fixation on getting things done?

·      Why haven’t I learned that time is too short and so very soon Kalev won’t be asking me to play with him? Or to cuddle him? Or to nurse him?

·      Why haven’t I learned that it so important, one of the most important things, to just be, instead of do, do, do?

Framing these questions made me feel better. I know I have learned the answers to them, it’s just hard to always remember when I’m tired and preoccupied. And it’s hard, in fact impossible, to always remember and implement these answers and responses every single time. I know I have it in me to give Kalev the response he needs and deserves and usually I do a pretty good job. And I know from our childbirth class that being mindful is about realizing this knowledge, even when the knowledge shows your mistakes and ways you did not want to act.

I also know one of the most important things we are so lucky to have as parents—that when Kalev woke up with a huge smile on his face and greeted me with kisses, he had already forgiven me even before I apologized. And when I told him I was sorry about how I acted and that it was not right for me to be so impatient and frustrated, he nodded and smiled, then took my hand to go and play. And, because I had learned a little bit, I followed. Even though the dishes are still in the sink. Even when I mess up, when I’m not mindful, when I’m not the best mother in the world, I’ll get another chance to implement all these things I’ve learned. That’s what’s so great about a loving relationship—since I do okay most of the time, I get some slack when I mess up. There’s no perfect parent and mistakes happen. It’s how we repair them and how we act the next time that shows how mindful we are as parents, and teaches our children how to forgive, ask for forgiveness, and know that tomorrow is another day to try again. And since today is Friday, I have a feeling today is going to be a good day!

Impromptu Dance Party

We are exhausted this morning. None of us slept well last night. The house was too warm, the fans we had on dried everyone out, Kalev has two teeth coming in (one a molar) and was restless all night, then woke up early, even before Matt’s alarm went off. Boo. Kalev was the only one excited to get up, even the dogs didn’t want to move off the bed. When a morning starts like this the pessimistic people of this world tend to think it sets the tone for the day. And I started to let it set that tone. I was annoyed Kalev dumped his breakfast into Gracie’s food bowl, frustrated that Kalev wanted attention when I was trying to make my breakfast, exasperated when Kalev wanted to play outside after our morning walk when I wanted to get the dishes done. And during that walk I had not noticed the benefits of walking through our neighborhood a whole hour early—no other dog walkers, kids not going to summer school at the school down the street, the birds chirping to greet this beautiful morning, Gracie NOT barking at the new puppies yapping at her as we passed their front yard, it not being a thousand degrees outside. No, I did not think about these things. Instead, I concentrated on how tired I was, on all the things I had to do today and how being tired was going to make it so much harder—dishes, clean up the house, prepare for the in-laws to come, get Kalev down for a nap early enough to avoid a meltdown but late enough that he will sleep long enough to not make the afternoon another set of exhausted interactions, get him to and have him happy at gymnastics, then the playdate afterwards. How was I going to do all this? Have you noticed the common thread? ME ME ME! Oops. Mindful mommyness not at its best.

So as I try to get the dishes done and Kalev tugs on my shirt for some attention, I turn on Pandora (thank you Pandora and the iphone for amazing inventions!). And Kalev starts dancing. Kalev loves to dance. Anytime he hears music, he’ll start dancing. In the car he’ll move his hands and feet, in the baby carrier on our walks he bounces his upper body and beats the tune with his hand, he dances around his musical dog toy whenever he presses its paw to start the music, at Farmers Market last night he danced to the band on the grass with the sunlight shining down upon him, and every time I turn on Pandora he starts dancing in the kitchen. Awesome. My cranky, tired, teething little boy embraced the joy of dancing as soon as I turned the music on. As I laugh watching him, he comes over and grabs my hand. How could I resist? The dishes can wait. And I join his impromptu dance party. We are turning quickly around, our hands clasped, our feet stomping, shouting with laughter. That little hand in mine, not so little anymore when I think about what it was like for me to reach out to touch his hand a year ago. Now he reaches out to grab mine. And those fingers are so strong. The love I feel for him, the happiness I have that he wants to reach out and bring me into his world, his joy, is the most amazing feeling. And I feel so much better. What a blessing! We break apart to do our own moves; Kalev’s current one consists of both hands in the air, turning in circles, and kinda stomping his feet at the same time. He’s having a riot. It’s the best. And hearing his little giggles lightens up my whole cranky, exhausted, pessimistic mood.

After our little dance party, I finished the dishes, and now we’re outside. Kalev is playing at the water table, I’m finally writing on my blog, the dogs are chasing squirrels and the day is absolutely beautiful. I’m still tired and looking forward to my nap, but I am so happy Kalev can help me get out of my funks and into what’s important in life—being together.

My lesson from this morning: DANCE!

Do you have any tricks that you use when you’re tired and the day is just that much harder? I wish I could always remember these little tricks, stop freaking out about my to-do list, take a step back from that pessimistic edge, laugh a little, and realize how amazing everything is. Guess it's good I have my special little teacher. Thank you Kalev :-)

 Kalev dancing with Auntie Lynn at the family reunion last week