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Showing posts with label Personal Growth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Personal Growth. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

A Light in the Darkness

Welcome to the December Mindful Mama Carnival: Staying Mindful During the Holiday Season
This post was written for inclusion in the Mindful Mama Carnival hosted by Becoming Crunchy and TouchstoneZ. This month our participants
have shared how they stay mindful during the holiday season. Please read to
the end to find a list of links to the other carnival participants.

***

Courtesy obsidian.com
Winter is usually a dark time for me. I am deeply affected by the shortage of sunlight and my body yearns for hibernation.  Blood meant for warmer climes retracts from the chilly surface. I become sluggish. My limbs recoil, aching for sanctuary.

Living in the Northern Hemisphere, my longing to withdraw is further complicated by the holidays. The season brings up a mix of both magical childhood memories and memories still too dark to fully retrieve. Adding  to the challenge is my son's birthday and the memories of his difficult entrance into the world. He was born in winter, even though he wasn't due until early spring. Keeping vigil in the NICU that year, I escaped my usual holiday anguish as I faced a new, utterly foreign reality. Coming home was even harder but we got through that, too. My new family survived that first dark winter.

When I look at my son now, two years later, I wonder how I got so lucky to have this being share the winter with me. I watch him run laughing, rosy-cheeked from the cold. I feel warm. I answer his litany of questions and listen to his endless discourse about the rocks, the barren trees, the dog's hardened poop. I feel elation. My arms unfold, extending outward. My feet move easily. I am awake.

When incomprehensible emotions creep up, when I feel disgust, distance, and discord over the madness of the holidays, I look at him. I remember his fight. I remember my own. I see the results of hope, commitment, and deep attachment. I see him grow and I see myself transform. I see the now and move beyond the past. I see the holidays as a time of joy, a time to celebrate that we are alive through the dark, cold winter. I see light.

***

Mindful Mama Carnival -- Becoming Crunchy and TouchstoneZ Visit The Mindful Mama Homepage to find out how you can participate in the next Mindful Mama Carnival!

On Carnival day, please follow along on Twitter using the handy #MindMaCar hashtag. You can also subscribe to the Mindful Mama Twitter List and Mindful Mama Participant Feed.
Please take time to read the submissions by the other carnival participants:


Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Thank You, Mama Bloggers

On this year's day of giving thanks, I am reminded of some thoughts I had awhile back. Now seems like a good time to share them.

When you have a lifestyle that's considered alternative to mainstream culture, it can be hard to find community. Mainstream culture tends to fly in direct opposition to most of what I hold dear, what I find most natural, what I find to be truly human. Consider Milwaukee's recent attack on co-sleeping as but one example.

When I became a mother and realized my place in the parenting world, I started reading natural parenting blogs, mama blogs, and blogs about natural living. I sought information and insight from like-minded people. So I've been reading all sorts of mama blogs...the big impact ones with a zillion Facebook fans, the little ones who quietly share intimate stories, and many in between.

Since joining this virtual community less than a year ago, I've noticed subtle changes in myself. I have more maternal knowledge and skills. I've grown more comfortable in my mothering. No, not just comfortable, confident. I feel good about my general parenting choices, like I'm on a path that's right for me. Part of it is my own growth, but I think another big part is that I've been reading the mama blogs.

So here, I'd like to formally say Thank You to the Mama Bloggers:

Thank you for creating a community of open-mindedness, sharing, and respect. I find connection and support in what I once thought was the least likely place (the internet).

Thank you for providing so much useful information. I continually learn new things to apply in my daily life.

Thank you for sharing your trials and tribulations. I often learn your lessons vicariously or am reminded of my own shortcomings that need attention.

Thank you for cheering about your successes. I am inspired and motivated, knowing that someone else has a way that might work for me, too.

Thank you for making me laugh, so that I could laugh at myself, too.  Some days I really need it!

Thank you for your poetic prose that touches me as a mother, a world citizen, a woman, and a fellow writer.

Thank you for honoring motherhood in all its glory and hardship. 

Thank you for making me a better mother.


And, of course...thank you for reading :)

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Cooking With a High-Needs Toddler

Welcome to the November Carnival of Natural Parenting: Kids in the Kitchen

This post was written for inclusion in the monthly Carnival of Natural Parenting hosted by Hobo Mama and Code Name: Mama. This month our participants have shared how kids get involved in cooking and feeding. Please read to the end to find a list of links to the other carnival participants.


***

Nowhere else has my mothering evolved quite as much as in the kitchen. Our first year, cooking was disastrous and heartbreaking. In addition to being premature, my son was what Dr. Sears calls a "high needs baby." Cooking while caring for my son was so stressful that I nearly lost my love for the culinary arts altogether. In the second year, I've gone through phases of trial and error, acceptance, compromise, finding balance, and finally being able to involve Munchkin in my cooking. These days, I love preparing wholesome meals and having him work by my side.

Part of Munchkin's profile is a need to be directly involved in whatever I am doing and to do it with me. It's a bit beyond the "normal" level of toddler interest and imitation. His need for connection is intense, demanding, and very real. Without direct involvement or constant undivided attention from me, he quickly becomes a very unhappy camper -- whining, crying, clinging, acting out. If his needs aren't met during the day, he'll save the emotions for nighttime when they bubble up as nightmares.

Tasks like cooking, then, have been a particular challenge for us. Frequent, prolonged interruptions made for burnt, overcooked food, limited menu options, or at best, very awkward cooking experiences. I gave up babywearing in the kitchen early on because it simply wasn't safe with his wiggling and reaching; riding in back wouldn't satisfy him, either. These days he can sometimes entertain himself for a few minutes at a time, but certainly not long enough for me to prepare a meal.

That is, until I found the right equipment. Through my research on Montessori philosophy and practices, I learned about these special stools (e.g. the Learning Tower) that would allow a small child to work safely at counter level. I thought we could really benefit from one because it would allow Munchkin to engage with me directly and participate in kitchen work. He could even have his own cooking project along side me.

Sometimes the universe is good to you and you get a break just when you need one. We found a used Steffy Wood Products I Can Reach step stool  for $50 at a preschool yard sale and it literally changed our lives. We have used it almost every day since then. It's not quite as fancy as the Learning Tower, but it does the trick!

On his stool (or "tooh" as he calls it), Munchkin is safe and at just the right height to work at the kitchen counter or sink. He also enjoys working at a small stand loaded with kitchen activities just for him. For example, I can set him up with a "pouring game" next to me while I chop veggies. I give him dried beans, a spoon and a few containers. He transfers the beans from one container to the other. 

With an extra tray and towel, he can do it with water instead or work at the kitchen sink. 

I also gave him a set of wood vegetables and cutting board for "cutting" alongside me (similar to these from Melissa and Doug, but we found a cheaper set elsewhere) . He could stay focused on either of these tasks, without needing much from me, for up to 10 minutes. Wow! Is that my kid?!

With such a turnaround, I've been able to take the Montessori approach to the next level (for great information and resources, check out Living Montessori Now). Now, I invite Munchkin to participate in my kitchen work. He helps me wash vegetables and measure rice. He helps pour, stir, and sort as part of my prep work. He's not even two years old. Yes, his help is messier, but not as messy as a lonely, upset toddler with a cup of milk in the next room. Yes, it takes longer than cooking by myself, but not nearly as long as it took to cook anything when he was younger or not directly involved. More importantly, we are engaged and connected while we cook. This new system satisfies my need to enjoy preparing something I enjoy eating, and it satisfies his need to be woven into my tasks. Like I said, that stool was life changing!

The other big factor in regaining my love of cooking comes from a transformed attitude that underlies many of the adjustments to becoming a mother. Acceptance. Compromise. Letting go. And a whole lotta patience. Now, I'm aware of our limitations and recognize that many of them are temporary. Today's unbearable need will be tomorrow's forgotten plight. I more readily accept interruptions. I plan better so that we're never rushed to get dinner ready. I'm more flexible with when and how I cook. I'm a lot less perfectionist about the process and the end product. I've learned to welcome new tools, new practices, and new ideas that I might not have used otherwise. Because there are still hard days and there always will be. Being open to creative change makes it possible to get through those rough patches. It's certainly made it possible for me to love cooking again and I dare say Munchkin loves it, too!

***

Carnival of Natural Parenting -- Hobo Mama and Code Name: MamaVisit Hobo Mama and Code Name: Mama to find out how you can participate in the next Carnival of Natural Parenting!

Please take time to read the submissions by the other carnival participants:

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Learning To Work Through Frustration

Munchkin was futzing around, poking a stick into his box of balls. He must have been trying to get something out, or move the balls around, or some other inventive task that only a toddler finds captivating. I was doing my own futzing, dashing about here and there to get ready for our outing to the park. I heard him fuss, the usual whiny groan of exasperation. I waited. Usually he wails and asks for help right away. In the past, I often went to him quickly because his screeching grates on my nerves. Over time, however, I've been gradually extending the time before I offer him help. I'd like to give him a chance to work things out himself. I'd also like to give myself a chance to cope better with his cries without getting frustrated as well.

"I think you can do it," has been my new mantra. I encourage him to repeat the task on his own, at least if it is one that I am certain he is capable of doing. Yet so often, his frustration takes over.  His motor skills won't allow him to do whatever it is he is trying to do. This seems to upset him deeply. I know I can too, Mama. But my little hands just can't move that way! I imagine him thinking.

The ball and stick fiasco was one of those times when his frustration just escalated into sharp shrieks and woeful cries. I thought it was a good opportunity to help him with a coping skill that I use when I'm frustrated.

"Hey, will you look at me?" I went up close to Munchkin and made eye contact with him, arresting his focus away from the anger. "Look at me. Good. Now take a deep breath. (I demonstrate) Can you take a deep breath?" He imitated me and took a breath with obvious effort.

"Niiice. OK, now try again. I think you can do it." I gestured toward the stick and balls. "Oh, look, you did it!" A little, bouncy green ball popped out and Munchkin smiled with pride.

This is a scene we've played out over and over again, but not just with the ball and stick. It could be anything Munchkin is trying to do himself. Loud squeal. Mama breathes. Munchkin breathes. Try again. We've been working on it for months. I work on getting past my own frustration as I watch him learn to do the same.

On rough days, he can't quite ever get past the angst, and the poor guy collapses into my arms for solace and relief. I hold him through his anger, letting him cry or scream.  I want him to know that whether he succeeds or fails, whether he is angry at himself or the world, I am there for him and I love him. After a few moments, he recovers and we either return to the source of his frustration to conquer it or we find a new task. It's always his choice.

On good days, he remembers to slow down and breathe. He gets past the frustration. So do I.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Turning a Whine Into a Smile


Have you ever had one of those days when your little one just won't stop whining? You know....when every request is intense and needs immediate attention, every bump or mishap is a catastrophe, and every sound out of his mouth is an ear-piercing pitch that grates on the nerves? Those are hard times!

When Munchkin is in one of these moods, my patience wanes with each whine. Still, I try hard to figure out what's bothering him so I can meet whatever unmet need is haunting him (or help him cope without it). Sometimes it's something obvious like teething or illness, but there are plenty of times when I'm not sure what's going on with him.  

I guess some of the stuff I've been reading from Aha!Parenting really works because I recently figured out that I could stop the whining when its cause is not physical. I did this by helping him feel connected, competent, and accepted. It was incredibly simple. 

First, I took a moment to re-center myself. I was getting flustered with the whining, so this was a crucial first step. I have a favorite chair where I go for deep breathing...it works magic! One thought that really helps me is to remember that it's not his fault he's cranky. He's just a little kid, a toddler with immature coping skills. After relaxing into myself, I could then think clearly and act with compassion, rather than react with irritation.

Next, I spent a few moments connecting deeply with my son. For us, this met nursing. But not just nursing. I looked him in the eye, caressed his hair, and talked to him. "Not feeling well, are you? Having a hard time? I know..." It only took a few simple words of validation. I held him close and let him feel my acceptance of his mood. Of course, genuine acceptance was crucial and I could do that once I was calm and focused.

Then I sensed that he also needed the flip side to connection: independence. All morning, Munchkin had been very sensitive about doing things himself and was getting easily frustrated when he failed. Each event spurred a new episode of tears and whining. To bolster confidence in his independence, I made a point of providing tasks for him that I knew he could accomplish...turn off the bathroom light, put an item in the trash, hold my keys, etc. Instead of lavish praise for his deeds, I sincerely thanked him as I would any person: "Oh, thank you, Munchkin! That's very helpful, I really appreciate it."

In addition, I calmly acquiesced to all kinds of strange preferences Munchkin expressed ("Not that bowl, this one"). That's right, I went against 'conventional' and mainstream advice for dealing with a whiner (check out page 2 of this Parenting article: it says to ignore the kid or the whining will get worse!). Instead of shunning my son, who was clearly upset, I "caved" by making him more comfortable. Naturally, I maintained our normal household limits, but I let him be picky and whine about the little things. Most of the time, these little things don't really matter. Giving my toddler a sense of personal power when he's feeling low does matter.

Most importantly, I didn't react negatively to his whining. I didn't tell him to say please or ask nicely. I let him know that it was hard to understand him when he whined, but I did so without shaming him or acting irritated (only possible when I'm calm and centered!). I didn't get annoyed or take it personally when he became insistent. I didn't withhold love or privileges or fulfillment of reasonable requests. I firmly stood my ground: the ground where I'm on his side, where I assure his safety, where I love him unconditionally, where I accept his whining.

And then he stopped whining. For good.

Just like that. Incredible! All I had to do was genuinely connect with him, provide him with the opportunity to exhibit competence, and truly accept his foul mood. For me, the real key was centering myself. The rest came easily from the place of peace I'd created within myself. 

Why did these strategies work? I think it's because gentle, unconditional parenting really is effective. Maybe Munchkin's cause for whining had been emotional pain. Maybe he missed me (he'd spent the first hour of the day with Papa while I got to sleep in). Maybe he was feeling incapable in this big world where Mama, Papa, and the big kids can do all that cool stuff (we'd met some new playmates a few days prior). Maybe he felt left out or ignored (Papa isn't as playful in the morning).

Whatever it was, I managed to get through to him and help him out of it. He was able to re-center himself, too. Best of all, he knows that when he's hurting inside, he can rely on me to help him through it. I won't demand a change in behavior without considering his needs, no matter how annoying that behavior is.

And for the record, no, the whining did not get worse or return. His whines turned into smiles and we enjoyed the rest of the day together. Since then, he has not "tried to use whining to get his way". Conventional parenting wisdom debunked! Not surprising, though. When my son whines, he's not trying to annoy me or manipulate me. He's trying to ask for something but doesn't have the words to do so. I'm glad I listened.

Now, if I could just apply this gentle approach every time we have one of those days...

I'd love to hear your thoughts! Please feel free to leave a note.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Doing errands with a toddler: Slowing down to speed things up

Running errands isn't much fun
Recently, I had a big errand-running day with Munchkin. We were out for about 2 hours and made 5 stops. We did it without buying any new toys (and yes, we went through the toy aisle, twice), without treats or "incentives", and without a meltdown or tantrum. Even when we got back home, Munchkin never had his typical post-outing meltdown.

Maybe for some seasoned moms, this is no big thing. For us, it was a big deal. I have to admit, I'm incredibly proud of us! Usually, I can only manage 1, maaaaaybe 2, stops in a single outing before Munchkin comes undone. He gets overstimulated. He gets tired, but never falls asleep away from home. He gets hungry, but is too distracted to eat when we're out and about. He gets disconnected from me because he is so captivated by discovering the world. When we return home, he usually has a breakdown, whining and crying for comfort to soothe all those mixed up feelings.

For me, running errands with a toddler can be tense and stressful. I try to balance my need to complete tasks with his needs, but that doesn't always happen. I feel hurried to get everything done before he gets too tired, hungry, or overwhelmed. Then I really feel the pressure when we get home and he has his meltdown. Since I often have to take him with me, I've been working on making our outings less demanding for both of us.

On the day in question, I must have hit the mark. Maybe Munchkin was just having a really great day. Still, I keep reflecting on what I did to help our errands go so smoothly. Because I definitely want to repeat this pattern!

I gave advance notice of what we were doing next. Munchkin could prepare himself for what was about to happen. It was also a useful way to set a limit ahead of time and to let him know he was included in my plans: this IS what we're doing and you ARE coming, too.

I didn't rush him. I let him take his time exploring the toy aisle, picking up and replacing shampoo bottles, and wandering about the store carrying and kicking a ball through most of it. Funny, it actually took less time this way than trying to persuade him to do these things on my time scale (I'm an in-and-out kind of shopper).

I reconnected with him frequently. Between stops, or when we were getting in and out of the car, I was present and authentic. I talked and listened to Munchkin, gave him hugs, and looked him in the eye as I buckled him in. It was clear that we were doing this errand together.

I made time to sit and have a snack together. I spotted a bench outside one of the shops and I thought it would be a good place to take a break. I always carry snacks with us on outings, but I usually let him eat in the car (you know, to save time, ha!). Eating on the bench was much better. Not only did Munchkin get to refuel his body's needs, he also got some valuable time to connect with me. Now that's what I call efficient shopping!

Overall, it seems that my keys to success were being more patient, being fully present, and staying connected. I might not be able to repeat this every time we run errands, but at least now I have a benchmark. I know that I can do it. I can get stuff done without Munchkin coming undone. All I have to do is slow down and things go a lot faster!

What do your errand days look like? I'd love to hear from you!





Friday, August 19, 2011

It's OK For Parents to Feel, Too

When my son is hurt or in pain, I offer hugs, kisses, and space to cry if he wants to.

When he is angry or frustrated, I help him find safe ways to express himself, like punching the couch instead of hitting himself in the head (oh, toddlers!). Then I guide him to re-center himself by taking deep breaths, for example.

When my son is scared, I figure out what frightened him and then work to either keep him safe from it in the future or show him that it won't hurt him so he won't be afraid of it again.

When my son is happy, I smile and allow him time to enjoy his joy.

When my son has feelings, I want to encourage him to experience them. I want him to know that emotions are not to be feared, that they don't have to overwhelm an experience, and that he is capable of recovering from even the strongest, darkest feelings.  I want him to have the skills and internal resources to express his emotions in healthy ways, without bottling, lashing out, shame, guilt, or resentment. I want him to know that I will love him and be there for him no matter what he feels.

Why, oh why, then, is it so hard to do the same for myself? I'm getting better at it, but I still have a ways to go before I am as consistently gentle with myself as I am with my son.

It seems that as parents -- and especially mothers -- we become so focused on allowing our children emotional expression, yet we deny ourselves the same unconditional love. We are still unable to truly experience our feelings. We over-eat to stuff them. We exercise to run away from them. We busy ourselves with jobs or activities to avoid quiet moments for the soul. We clean the house instead of our hearts. We focus on caring for others instead of ourselves.

This system of parenting won't work. It's too hard to support someone else through intense emotions when you've got unresolved feelings of your own in the way. Eventually, there will be a collapse or a blowout. In fact, I'm pretty sure emotional suppression is what gets in the way of practicing unconditional, mindful parenting each and every moment.

That's certainly the case for myself, anyway.  It's when I literally forget myself that I run into the biggest parenting hurdles. Therefore, I have resolved to use the same (or similar) phrases and actions on myself that I use with my son when I notice strong feelings well up inside of me. I'm going to focus on loving myself unconditionally through my feelings, too.  This make sense when I consider that my son will learn the most about emotional freedom and expression from the way I handle my own. That is, my feelings aren't just OK, they're essential for good parenting.

Are you better at handling your child's emotions than your own? Have you found a way to handle both? Leave a note...I'd love to hear from you!


Thursday, August 11, 2011

Handy Parenting Resources: the Fridge Lists

Some of my readers have said they'd like to put up some of my posts on their refrigerator for easy reference. Here, I've distilled these lists down a bit so you can print them out for just this purpose and still have room on the fridge for your child's artwork and photos. I call them the "fridge lists." Enjoy!

MaMammalia's Fridge Lists

MaMammalia's
(the Fridge version)

1)      Appeal to your toddler's natural empathy. "It hurts my ears when you... " bang on that, scream, etc., or "I can't understand you when you..."  whine, yell, cry, etc. or "Ouch! That hurts!"

2)      If at first you don't succeed, try again in 1 minute.  Or 30 seconds, or 5 minutes, or 15. Be quiet while waiting. Let him finish what he's doing.

3)      Provide an attractive alternative. Make the exchange respectfully and be sure to validate any disappointment or anger.

4)      Use humor and playfulness. Get creative, laugh, and watch your tension melt!

5)      Be emotionally available prior to your request. Before you ask... play, hug, smile, nurse... connect.

6)      Enlist the help of your toddler. Ask him to help carry something, pick something out, put something away, etc.

7)      Say "gentle" instead of  "no touch." Save the "don't touch" for seriously dangerous items.

8)      Avoid using punishment for non-compliance. Work on developing alternatives to yelling, spanking, and time-outs.

Want more explanation? Get the complete article
Like this type of list? Visit MaMammalia for more: http://mamammalia.blogspot.com/

MaMammalia, Copyright 2011

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MaMammalia's
(the Fridge version)

1) Try a gentle approach first. (See the Gentle Strategies list)

2) Use toddler-appropriate language: correct pronouns, precise phrasing, and age-appropriate.

3) Demonstrate confidence in your request through your tone of voice.

4) Offer legitimate choices. Come up with 2 different ways to fulfill your request, then give your toddler the choice. Avoid false choices.

5) Take action. "I won't let you..." or "Please do not..." hit the dog/throw toys/run in the street, etc. , then enforce the words peacefully by holding up a hand or standing in the way.

6) Validate the child's feelings. "I understand that you are angry because I won't let you..." or "It's OK for you to feel angry at me for..." or "Are you sad that...?" Avoid judging, criticizing, minimizing, or blaming.

7) Consider the child's unmet needs. Start with physical needs (hunger, thirst, fatigue, overstimulation, pain), then consider emotional needs (acceptance, respect, independence, connection).

8) Reconsider your request. What's the worst that would happen if you just let it go?

9) Work on your relationship. Do you need to reconnect with your child, or yourself?

10) Avoid bribery, threat of punishment, or withdrawal of privileges.

Want more explanation? Get the complete article
Like this type of list? Visit MaMammalia for more: http://mamammalia.blogspot.com/

MaMammalia, Copyright 2011
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MaMammalia's
(the Fridge version)

Take a break to just breathe.  Say "I need a moment" then sit or lay down for some deep breathing.  Afterwards, reconnect with your child through a hug, eye contact, or kind words. Repeat as needed!

S--l--o--w    d--o--w--n. Do one thing at a time, paying close attention to your actions, thoughts, words, and feelings.  Avoid judging or evaluating yourself, just notice your own experience.  

Put the problem  on the shelf, along with other items not appropriate for children. Create boundaries around your thoughts, e.g. "I'll think about this after she goes to bed".

Look your child in the eyes when you talk to him. It will keep you connected.

Let go of guilt. If you haven't been your best self...Forgive yourself, apologize to your child, decide on changes to make, commit to them, and move on. 

Get some rest. Nap or close your eyes for a few minutes.

Get out of the house. Take a walk, get some exercise, do a simple errand.

Chat with a friend.  Get it off your chest.

Give yourself space to feel angry, sad, etc. Schedule time and space away from your child to experience your emotions. Validate your feelings and honor your experience.

Want more explanation? Get the complete article
Like this type of list? Visit MaMammalia for more: http://mamammalia.blogspot.com/

MaMammalia, Copyright 2011

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Just Who Do I Think I Am?

Some of my favorite projects on MaMammalia are what I call "how-to lists": how to gain toddler compliance, how to deal with stress while parenting, how to practice unconditional parenting, and many others in the works. I enjoy writing these posts even though they are time consuming to put together. Still, I can't help but notice this gnawing feeling, this critical, arrogance-zapping voice that says, "Who the hell are you to give out child rearing advice?" I'm not a childcare expert. My background is in biology, not child development, psychology, or anything related (unless you count animal behavior). I'm just a mom. I only have one kid, and I haven't even been doing that for very long. I am by no means the model mother for peaceful parenting.

My life's companion
So, who do I think I am?

In addition to being a full-time mom, I think I'm a writer, researcher and analyzer by nature. I'm driven to study, critique, record, and create -- not as a hobby but because it's who I am. In essence, the how-to lists are for me. Composing the how-to lists requires me to do extensive reading, to think deeply about the topic, and to question my own parenting practices. I learn a great deal from writing these posts. Through writing, the concepts are driven deep down into my psyche so I can draw on them when I really need them. I post them on my blog because I have a feeling that someone might benefit from them. I have a feeling that someone has something to add that could benefit us all. I also have a feeling that someone will be offended or off-put, and ask the same question I did of myself: Who is she to tell me...? That's a risk I'm willing to take. After all, I can't stop being me.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Expectations, Acceptance, and...Laundry

I dread laundry day. It's not so much because of the hassle of doing the laundry, but because of how I behave. Granted, laundry day is a major event because we don't have a washer or dryer. You'd think that by now I would have adapted, knowing that with a toddler in tow no task goes uninterrupted. When it comes to laundry, I have failed miserably in this regard. The problem is that I get fixated on the idea that I just want to finish the damn laundry and it leads to all kinds of negative fallout. I've been hung up on what I see as the only benefit of using our apartment complex's laundry facility: I can do multiple loads in under 2 hours!

This singular benefit has been severely compromised by my drive to fulfill it. I get flustered. I lose my patience. I raise my voice. I feel resentful because Munchkin's needs repeatedly interrupt me. I become insensitive and set unrealistic expectations for him. I feel angry that laundry is such a pain in the butt. The worst of it is that I keep making the same mistake over and over again, every laundry day. So I need to figure out why. I need to figure out what I can do differently because I really can't take this anymore. And Munchkin certainly doesn't deserve my frustration. Over laundry!

To address this issue, I started by writing about the process of doing laundry. It sounds mundane, but going over the details of this task allowed me to see that 1) it's understandable why I find it frustrating, and 2) I have the power to reduce my frustration. I figured out the specific points in laundry day during which I feel the most aggravated.  It turns out that my desire to complete the task in 2 hours has been causing me to lose connection with Munchkin -- and myself. 

I thought I had planned laundry day in a way that met both of our needs. During the wash and dry cycles we run around outside with the dog, collecting pine cones, rocks, and flowers. In reality, our 2 hour adventure is punctuated by sorting, loading, hanging, and transferring clothes. I've been doing these myself, only allowing Munchkin a few token moments to assist. No wonder he is so demanding while we're in the laundry room. No wonder I get so irritated. No wonder we end up in a pile of tears and apologies larger than the stacks of unfolded laundry!

I've been selfishly unaware of Munchkin's need to work together. I've been hogging all the fun to myself in the name of time and efficiency, and then getting annoyed because he feels left out. It's not like brushing my teeth or pooping where I really need to do it myself. I can find ways to have him more involved so we can stay connected while doing laundry. For instance, I can hold him up to insert the coins or push the start button. He'll love that! Laundry may take more time that way, but if it means less tension and more fun for both of us, then it's worth it.

My new laundry sorter
Next, I figured out that with some better planning, I can avoid some of the almost comical missteps that were getting me bent out of shape. Step 1: I went out and bought a 3 bag laundry sorter on wheels. I've got a few other logistics to work out. I'm also working on a Laundry Day Plan with more flexibility and time to complete the task.

Finally, I realized that my biggest hurdle, and the one that I have the most control over, is my attitude toward laundry day. Yes, it's a less than an ideal domestic situation, but I can't change that right now. What I can do is accept my situation and let go of unrealistic expectations. For now, laundry won't go as smoothly as I'd like, it's going to take longer than I want it to, and clean clothes are going to sit around for awhile. And really, it's OK for wet clothes to sit for an hour or two before they are hung to dry, and a cart piled with clean, wrinkled, unfolded clothes sitting in the middle of our hallway isn't nearly as important as our emotional well-being. I'm going to think about that next laundry day instead of how to be more efficient. I may never grow to actually enjoy laundry day or Zen out over it. I will, however, make a concerted effort not to ruin another potentially wonderful time to connect with my son. This connection could turn out to be the true benefit of doing laundry without a washer-dryer, a benefit I have finally begun to see.