The Answer Game

I knew Z wouldn't be tired at bedtime.  We had spent the morning playing at the park.  He played with some new friends, and after our friend left, we hung out eating pink bubblegum and pistachio gelato and picked out a few groceries.  On the way home he fell asleep, next to his brother, and took a nice afternoon nap.

When the bedtime alarm went off, I gave him a few more minutes, and started the dishwasher.  Then we headed off to start bedtime.

I could tell by his energy that he wasn't going down easy.  I understood why.  Instead of being frustrated, I surrendered.  It's always better when I surrender.

We read stories from our old fairy book, and talked about how awesome it would be to find one in the fairy house we built.  We talked about how easily they are disguised in nature and we hope to see one some day.  We discussed how different they all were, and how fun it would be to fly with the birds and dragonflies.  We love fairies!

He told me one of his awesome imaginative stories, and then I thought I should just go to bed too.  I was tired, and 9:30 was approaching.  Why not go to bed at a descent time?  I ask myself this nearly every night.  I asked him to wait until I got ready for bed and I'd come right back.

I returned quickly and scooped him up and took him into our bed, next to Bodhi, who was soundly asleep.  We told a story, and just when we were getting ready to shut off the light, he asked, "Want to play the answer game?"   I knew it was another way to prolong going to sleep, but I was intrigued by this game.  The most special moments happen when you least expect it.  I also know what it feels like to not be super tired and be laying in bed with an active mind.  "Sure.  We can play it for a little while.  What's the answer game?"

Z said, "Okay.  Here's the answer game.  You give me all of your answers, and I will give you all of my answers."

I smiled in the dark.  "Well, do you want to ask me a question?"

"No.  Just give me all your answers.  You have more answers than me."

I laughed.  "Well, you're pretty smart and you have a lot of answers too!  Usually, when you ask a question, someone can give you an answer.  How about you ask me a question."

I thought, you really do have as many answers as me, about the important stuff.  All the rest will fall in place, when you're ready, sweet boy.

"Well, you have more answers than me.  Okay.  What's steam?"  We had been talking about steam lately.  It started when we put an ice cube in some hot soup a while back and he said it was smoking.  We've also been doing a lot of science experiments lately.

"Steam is water vapor.  When hot meets cold, the water steams, and rises like smoke.  It's like when we put a piece of ice in hot soup."

He listened, asked a few more questions about steam and smoke, then told me to ask one.

"What animal do you love?"

"Shadow.  She's my friend.  And P. Pat."

We each asked a few more questions, then he seemed happy and more relaxed.  We fell asleep shortly after.

He always amazes me.  I love his games and questions.  I love his imagination.  I love to know what he is thinking.  I love to listen to him.  I love to learn what meant something to him, and what he remembers.  I love that he is a sponge, and it reminds me to watch every single thing I do and say.  I love watching his mind and heart expand.  I love to see his eyes open.  I love to see creation stirring.  I love the beginner's mind in action.

I also think it's sweet and cute how he thinks I have so many answers and trusts me to know everything.  I will always answer his questions, or we find an answer.  It's such an amazing journey with children, learning and growing together.

I am eternally grateful for my little teachers.

Listen

Yesterday was an epic, repetitive battle of the butting of heads for me and Z.

It began when I woke up and realized I forgot to buy coffee for the morning.  That's pretty much a tragedy, which started the whole day off on the wrong foot.  (Damn you, coffee addiction.)  It didn't help that Z just wanted to mess with Bodhi while I fixed the snack they wanted, which pretty much nixed me doing any morning Yoga at all.  Strike two for me.  I had to almost drag Z into the truck for a coffee run.

As soon as I had my warm soothing sweet mocha in my hands, I asked Z if we could start our day over.  By then I guess I had been so much of a jerk, that his reply was an automatic and stink-eyed, "No."  I took responsibility for my jerkishness and decided I wasn't going to let our day continue like that.

I am not quite sure where things went wrong, but through out the day, we kept butting heads.

He'd knock Bodhi down while looking me in the eye.  I'd respond all wrong.  He'd do it again and I'd yell.  He wouldn't get ready for the pool.  I threatened not to go.  Wrong, just wrong.  Over and over.

My poor mom was there to witness our mini-epic battles of our wills.  She had packed such a beautiful lunch in a cooler for our pool trip, so I was determined to go enjoy the day.  Attitude be damned.  Or so I thought.

We got to the pool, and being 100 degrees outside, I was hot and flustered and still annoyed.  At least I'd have help and he'd get to play with Grandma, while I wandered around with Bodhi.

I swear, between the heat, and our strong-willed nature Z and I were just not seeing eye to eye.  It's supposed to be me who lets it go and does the right thing.  You know, the whole "be the change you want to see" attitude.

The whistle blew and it was time for a break.  He knocked his brother down for the last time, I had decided.  I took the opportunity to pack our stuff up and leave.  We'd been there for hours, enjoyed our picnic, Daddy was about home, and honestly I was done.  He didn't want to leave.  By then I was afraid if I didn't go the day would end worse than it began.

We got to the truck, and he started saying bad words, just to piss me off.  I responded by screaming at him.  I was so angry I didn't care.  It wasn't about power, it was about pure unadulterated anger, seething, with the hundred degree weather adding to the steam under my collar.  We yelled in the truck as my mom tried to make the peace.  I almost wanted to yell a her to stay out of it, but I looked back and saw her heart breaking.  By then, all thoughts of peace were a distant memory.  I decided to try and be quiet.

Gladly, the ride home gave me some time to simmer down a little.  I promised him food, we sat down to eat.  Grandma headed out and I took the boys to the bath.  By then, I was trying my hardest not to be fake, but also not to be a jerk, so I said as little as possible.  He felt me, steaming, and didn't even mess with his brother until we got out of the bath.  I asked him to sit in his room, okay, I made him, before I lost it again.  I was determined for us to cool off.

Finally, he came downstairs, and I went to take his brother to bed.  The whole time, I was dreading putting him to bed.  Then I walked out of the room and saw that Daddy had beat me to begin putting him to bed.  Whew.

He called for me to read him a story.  I decided to take my armor off and surrender.  I lay down and we made eye contact.  We both felt the sting of our tired defeat.

I asked him, "What happened today?  How can we make this better?  What did I do wrong?  Be honest.  Tell me the truth, please."

He replied very quietly, "You didn't listen to me."

I asked if he could tell me how.

"You make me drink water when I'm not thirsty.  You made me go when I didn't want to go."

Tears swelled in my eyes.  He was right.  Not only did I not listen to him most of the day, I didn't trust him to meet his needs.  I wasn't showing him respect, and he wasn't showing it to me.  Many moments of how I didn't listen flashed in my mind.  (Well, besides it being a hundred degrees, and wanting him to drink water, that was a talk for another time.)

I asked him if we could hug and kiss and start our day over today, and tomorrow.  He smiled, hugged me tight, kissed me, and all the frustration melted away.  I should've done this earlier, I thought, but anger can get the best of me sometimes.

I told him, "Let's work on using the word listen with each other.  If I'm not listening, please remind me.  If you're not listening, I will remind you.  Let's make it that simple.  Okay?"

"Yes."

We picked up A Light in the Attic, and read poetry until his eyes got heavy.  We said goodnight, and I sang and tickled him to sleep.  By then, I wasn't angry, but felt remorse.  I watched him sleep a while before I slipped downstairs to watch a movie with Daddy.

Today is a new day, and we've begun again.  We've already reminded each other to listen, and I've written the word on my hand.

The least I can do is listen, and really pay attention to him, and my anger when it arises, and let it burn off appropriately.

I am grateful for his honesty.  I am grateful that we can talk.  I am grateful for this beautiful growing boy, that teaches me to pay attention and listen, even if it takes me all day.

Colossal Faith

"I look at my son's open and shining face.

In his mind there are no old jobs,

old hurts or old grudges.

No gossip or fretting.

Not the debris of dashed hopes or unrealized plans.

Nothing hounding him.

Nothing to prove.

No list on the refrigerator.

There is just immediacy, honesty and perfection.

Somehow he trusts that everything he needs will be provided here and now.

If I could muster just a tiny bit of his colossal faith that everything is, and will be, okay, 

I could live differently."

Karen Maezen Miller,

Momma Zen

This quote can stop me in my tracks and slow me down.  I love these words.  

*I changed her to him, but the essence remains the same.  

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Children deserve as much respect as any person. Their feelings are just as important as ours and they trust us to listen to them, guide them and help them. When we give a child the attention that he or she deserves we teach them mindfulness and that everyone's opinions and feelings count (even if you don't agree with them).

Mindfulness is paying attention. Mindfulness is also taking care of what is right in front of you, tending to it and nurturing it. As a great teacher told me this weekend, "Mindfulness is a floodlight." It is not just a spotlight. We have to see the big picture with big mind, not just what we want to see with our small mind.

When Z gets upset it reminds me to stop dead in my tracks and give him the respect he deserves. Even when his anger or sadness is inconvenient (say in the middle of the grocery store or when I am cooking), he deserves respect and attention. When I fail to give it to him it blows up in both of our faces and we both feel worse. Respect begets trust and shows love - that is what being a parent is all about.

I think I should try this with the big folks too.