Not my proudest mommy-moment

When my boys were young we started doing puzzles together, big puzzles, like the 500-1000 piece puzzles.  We enjoyed the challenge of finding the right pieces and celebrated together when the “one” we’d been looking for was finally found.

One evening we were finishing up a flag puzzle we’d been working on for a while.  I had to leave for a meeting and knew my family would finish it while I was gone.  I was sad to miss the culmination of our project… so I decided to take a piece with me so they couldn’t complete it without me.

During my meeting I was preoccupied with feelings of guilt and selfishness.  Those feelings were only compounded when I returned home to find my family eagerly waiting for me to return so we could finish the puzzle together.  As they handed me a puzzle piece they said, “Mom, we lost a piece, but we saved the last piece we had for you to put in.”  Sheepishly, I retrieved the missing piece from my back pocket, told them what I’d done, and let them have the honor of placing the last two pieces of our puzzle.

Definitely not my proudest mommy-moment, but I learned that sometimes my competitiveness distracts me from doing the right thing.  Since that evening I have been more aware of my competitive streak ~ which makes it easier for me, in the moment, to figure out if "this is the time to win at all costs" or not.

What lessons have you learned from your own “not my proudest mommy-moment”?  I’d love to hear about them.

Why?

One evening, as my husband and I went on a walk, we passed by the home of some friends of ours, Mormon friends, friends whose children were doing all the things we’d taught our own children to do.  My husband asked the question, “Why can’t we just make our kids do the right thing?”

Of course, we talked about how we don’t know this family’s struggles and challenges (because every family has them); and, we talked about agency; and, I even asked my husband, “Have you met our kids?  I don’t think force would work. J”

Yet, the question still remains:  “Why do some families have it easy when it comes to testimonies and missions, and other families don’t?”

Is it because God doesn’t care as much about our family?

It is because we have failed in our parenting?

Is it because we somehow missed the secret ingredient to make this all work?

Questions are so powerful and really direct our mind.  And while these questions might be natural when we find ourselves with children who are walking away from the religious foundation we've spent so many years trying to give them, these questions also help us stay stuck ~ stuck in fear, stuck in doubt.

What if, instead, you asked yourself...

How is having this problem useful to me?

What is the solution that most feels like love?

If I were presenting this problem as good news, how would I describe it?


I’d love to hear your answers to any of these questions (comment below or email me at kelly@findpeaceinparenting.com).

Are you a worrywart?

On the first night of Stake YWs camp I found a little box on my bunk with ear plugs inside, along with a note telling me these were so the snoring of one of my fellow YW leaders wouldn’t keep me awake.  I laughed and didn’t think I would need them but kept them handy… just in case ;)

Indeed, I never did need to use those ear plugs.  I still have them in my bathroom drawer and when I see them it reminds me of my friend and her kind soul.  But those ear plugs also remind me not to spend too much time worrying ahead of time.

My friend spent a lot of time worrying she was going to keep the rest of us awake with her snoring.  She commented on it throughout the day, tried to stay awake until the rest of us were sleep, and even almost didn’t come sleep in our room because she was so concerned she would keep us from a good night’s sleep.  In the end, though, her snoring wasn’t a problem for anyone in the room.

Do you ever spend time “worrying ahead of time”?  Worrying about things that have yet to happen?  Worrying about things that “might” happen?  All this does is ensure you get to worry ~ even if the thing you’re worried about never even happens.

What would happen if you didn’t pre-worry?  How would your life be different?  What could you do with that time instead?

How full is your bucket?

Imagine you move to an alternate planet.  Upon arrival, you are given the responsibility of always ensuring everyone’s cup is full of water at the beginning of each day.  Without a full cup of water each day, your fellow plant-people will evaporate into the atmosphere.  You have a bucket to use to deliver the water to each cup, but if the water level of your bucket gets below 25% full, cement blocks encompass your feet and slow your progress to fulfill your stewardship.  How hard would you work to keep your bucket full knowing that the very existence of your fellow plant-people depends on your work?

Back to planet earth.

We are the mothers of wonderful teens to whom we’ve taught correct principles and now they’re governing themselves.  We want to show up for this next phase of parenting in the best way possible, but honestly, we’re exhausted.  Our buckets are bone dry.  BUT we want to begin re-filling our buckets, even if we’re not sure how.

Maybe you need to take a long bath.  Maybe you need an extra hour of sleep each night.  Maybe you need a haircut.  Maybe you want to get your creative juices flowing.  Maybe you want to put a puzzle together.  Maybe you want to catch up with an old friend.  Maybe you need to get outside and let the sun hit your face.  Maybe you want to dance to your favorite song.

While there’s not just one RIGHT way to fill your bucket, remember ~ once you really start taking care of yourself, you have so much more to give to those you love.  What would fill your bucket?

Thoughts on Feelings from a non-feeler ;)

I’m not an overtly emotional person, definitely not one to wear my emotions on my sleeve, and I’m really good at working hard and getting things done no matter what is going on.  BUT, this does not mean I don’t get angry when things go wrong, or feel sad when my loved ones are hurting, or get excited when someone I know has accomplished something amazing.  Just because you might not see it doesn’t mean I don’t feel joy and heartache and confusion.

But really ~ I don’t know that I so much “feel” joy and heartache and confusion, but rather think about them.  For some reason, I’ve spent most of my life avoiding feelings.  Honestly, feelings kind of scare me and, well, have always seemed a bit useless.  So, imagine my surprise when I read these words:  “How we feel determines what we do and what we don’t do.”  (Self Coaching 101 by Brooke Castillo, 71)  Since I was embarking on wanting to learn how to really feel something, I thought this might be worth checking out.

This is what I learned:  there’s a difference between feeling a feeling and acting out a feeling (and it turns out it’s the “acting out a feeling” that I’ve always avoided).  A feeling is just a vibration you feel in your body and you can feel it just sitting in a chair, or while you’re folding clothes, or when you’re driving down the road.

Even though I’m still very much a thinker, learning to notice and acknowledge my feelings ~ good and bad ~ is making for a much fuller life.  And what I’ve found is that feelings even play a role in my life whether I realize it or not (do you know how many times I’ve neglected reaching out to a stranger because I was afraid I would say the wrong thing?!?).

I can show you that a feeling is simply a vibration ~ and therefore, nothing to avoid.  If you’d like me to take you through an exercise ~ no strings attached ~ just email kelly@findpeaceinparenting.com and tell me you’re interested in the “Feeling” exercise (or put your email in a comment below and I’ll contact you!).

What if…

What if everything was exactly how it should be?

I heard this question today and it got me to wondering.  What if this is how it was supposed to be?  What if I believed that this isn’t all a big mistake? 

If I believed everything was exactly as it should be I would be looking for what *I* am supposed to learn from this experience (instead of trying to find ways to convince the other person of what he should be doing).

If I knew with certainty that this was just how it was supposed to be I would let go of some control and allow a little bit more flexibility in my plans and not be quite so adamant that my way is always the best way.

If I trusted this wasn’t really all a big mistake I would see the blessings of this experience, how I will be stronger because of it (rather than worn down by it), that it’s an opportunity to learn lessons I didn’t even know I needed to learn.

Wow ~ a question can really open up a whole new way of thinking about a problem.  What if your son not serving a mission was always the plan (His, not ours!)?  How would you show up differently?

Are you a “starter” or a “finisher”?

Generally people fall into one of these two categories:  starters or finishers.  Either you’re great at starting things but have a hard time seeing them all the way through to the end, or you tend to drag your feet getting started but once you do there’s no question that you will complete the task.  I am a finisher.

As each of my boys were born I had in mind the things I, as a mom, needed to teach them before they became full-fledged adults, things like:  how to talk with people, old or young; to serve those in need without expecting something in return; how to iron and clean bathrooms; and how to manage their money.  Also on the list was preparing them to serve LDS missions.

So, what happens when a “finisher” can’t finish the job?!?  Am I doomed to perpetually feeling “undone” since whether or not my son serves a mission is really out of my control?  Is it possible that this “finisher” can ever feel peace without everything packaged nicely and tied up with a pretty bow?

The ability to let go of the things you don't have control over (like the decisions other people get to make) is a gift you can give yourself.  It's not about white-knuckling your way with positive thinking; rather, it's about taking a step back and evaluating what it is you believe and finding out if it's really true.  Believing my son had to serve a mission in order for me to "finish" my mothering (before he became an adult) didn't serve me very well.  I came to understand that giving my best efforts is enough even if the results aren't what I had hoped for.  This allows me to love my son with my whole heart instead of feeling gypped because things didn't work out the way I always thought they would.

If you're not quite sure how to bring peace into your own life, the first step is to take a moment to find out what you believe about your situation, and then ask yourself, "Is this really true?"  Then think about how you react when you believe that.  Who would you be with that thought or belief?  Once you've pondered these questions, your mind will be open to some other possibilities.  Take some time to consider them.

There really can be peace ~ even for finishers ~ when life doesn’t continue unfolding the way you had planned.  Truly, there is.