Chinese Handcuffs

Have you ever seen Chinese Handcuffs? They're made of some sort of woven material and your fingers go into either end. When you pull them apart with your fingers inside, as if you want to move your fingers out of it, it tightens. The only way to get your fingers out is to move in the opposite direction, away from the exit, and you can easily pull your fingers out. It is counter-intuitive to push your fingers further into the tube, but it is the only way out.

I had a parenting moment recently that reminded me of Chinese Handcuffs. Since I last blogged, I've moved both of my boys to the Waldorf school and have been adjusting to getting everyone ready each morning. There is much to do- lunches to pack, children to get dressed, choosing weather appropriate clothing for the day, finding shoes, getting breakfast- and we have a time constraint. Anytime you add in a time constraint, there is potential for stress and conflict.

Usually, I am fairly calm these days. I am able to handle the ups and downs of a child who doesn't want to get dressed that moment without falling into the place of overwhelm myself. But Monday was different. I was tired. My husband had been traveling last week and over the weekend, so my list of things to do was long. I had stayed up much later than I really should have trying to tie up some loose ends, so I was tired on Monday morning just like my kids. I was working on getting breakfast and lunch packed, hoping to accomplish this task before my youngest, who is five, woke up. I like to be able to spend quality time with him when he first wakes up to help him transition into his day.

Of course, he woke up earlier than I had hoped and I wasn't done getting things ready. I was playful at first when he refused to get dressed, but found myself quickly falling off my calm and began demanding that he get dressed. I tried to reason with him and explain that his playtime at school would be shorter... or longer depending upon how quickly his clothes were put on. Nothing seemed to be working and time was ticking.

I struggled, pulling and yanking against him like those darned Chinese Handcuffs, for nearly half an hour. And my fingers were clearly still stuck inside. The child wasn't dressed, lunches weren't packed, and we were at a stalemate.

Finally, I had a moment of clarity. I let go of the outcome in that second- let go of all that needed to be done. We were probably going to be late anyway. I shifted from what I needed to something that was important and fun for him, connecting with him rather than my own agenda. Getting dressed isn't really that much fun for him, especially when mom is feeling overwhelmed, tired, and cranky. But spending some quality time telling stories in the car is and I began talking to him about the time that we would have in the car to tell stories. He became captivated by our story ideas, something that he was very interested in, and he got dressed. He needed connection with me more than anything else. Once I got that, things fell into place. The most important part of all of this is that I relaxed and connected. I stopped pulling against the Handcuffs and moved in toward the center to connect with him, away from my own agenda. And guess what? We were dressed and in the car with our lunches in about three minutes. How much struggle could I have saved myself had I just relaxed and met him where he was in the first place? If I had only set aside my own agenda for a moment and connected with him, what would our morning have looked like?

The key to situations like that isn't to keep struggling against our children with our own agenda. Connect with your kids. Move in to meet them and you may be amazed at how much everything opens up.

A new beginning

I haven't written for a while on the subject of Kindergarten and Josh's transition. We had a really awful week the second week of school that just didn't ever feel right for him or for me. Was it the specific school? Was it too long away from me too many days a week? Was it just a transition? It all felt so uncertain and unsettled. I talked to many of my wise friends who encouraged me to listen to my intuition on this one- that I knew what he needed. We are connected to each other and my discomfort with this transition went beyond the feelings of a mother who was separating from her "baby." This means that action is needed.

One week ago today, after Josh had a brief illness and missed the days of school right after Labor Day, I pulled him out of school officially. It didn't go the way that I wanted it to go because I wasn't able to talk to his teacher face-to-face to let her know of my reasons for taking him out. We had had a conversation about the lack of play at the beginning and I had told her that I would do what was in his best interests, even if that meant pulling him out of school. It was interesting for me to stand back and look at the collective communications of my son's behaviors. He stopped eating at school during the day. He was refusing to eat breakfast before he went. This meant that when I picked him up from school, he ate all the contents of his lunch box as soon as he got out of school. He would then eat for the next 2 or 3 hours. When he would finally start playing again, it seemed forced and erratic- not at all like his usual play. Then at night, he had a very difficult time settling down to go to sleep. Then he got sick. And then there was the complaining about going to school. He just didn't want to go. A year of this seemed like torture for everyone. I told him that we were taking him out of school and asked if he wanted to go for the last day. Without hesitation, he said, "No. I'm not going." "Don't you want to say goodbye to your friends?" "No."

OK then.

We started looking at other schools, since he really seemed to want to be with other children and play more than anything else. Monday, we went and visited another private school nearby with a focus on the arts. While they are different than public school in many ways, it seemed like the same general structure to the day: reading time, math time... lots of time in their seats. Josh wouldn't let me leave the entire day, which was at least alright with the teachers and the administration. It was a fun day for me just to see how other schools do things.

We set up a visit with a local Waldorf school on Wednesday. I was prepared to sit with him for the day again, knowing what it had been like for him in public school and even what it was like on Monday.

We arrived at the school and there were children playing outside everywhere. His eyes grew very large with excitement. He had already chosen the tree he wanted to climb when I had to redirect him to the Kindergarten playground. The children were going inside at the time we arrived after their beginning of the day play time and transitioning into the classroom. Josh decided after a few minutes that he wanted to just go join the other children, even though the teacher had told us to take our time and come in when we're ready.

We entered the classroom and it was quiet. We took off our shoes and joined the children in the middle of the room for a circle time. After a verse, a short song, and the lighting and extinguishing of the candle, the children were dismissed for inside play time. Josh stood there as if he hadn't heard, so I bent over to him and whispered that he was now allowed to play. He looked up at me with the happiest eyes, conveying his surprise that it was already play time. Within 30 seconds, he had joined a group of boys on the floor who were playing with little wooden people and a house. He was completely engaged, completely unaware that I was even there.

I stood and watched him playing with the happiness sparkling in his eyes and knew that we were in the right place. The stars had aligned for him and he was truly where he was meant to be. I talked with the teacher who also commented on how engaged he was in his play and with the other boys. After about 5 minutes, we interrupted him to show him around the room and where the bathroom was, especially after his long car ride. After he had gone to the bathroom, I was worried that he would now want me to stay. But he returned immediately to his play and didn't seem to care about whether I was there or not! After another minute, I told him that I was going to go to fill out some papers in the office. I got a half nod of acknowledgment and headed towards the door. Once outside, I stood and waited for a moment to make sure he was OK. But I knew in my heart that he was home, too.

Today was his second day and the drop off was easy again. He came to the door after he had started playing to tell me goodbye and offer me a hug and kiss before I left. Effortless. Transition into Kindergarten should be just like this for all children.

If you haven't read Crisis in the Kindergarten, please take a few minutes and look at it. Published by the Alliance for Childhood, these folks are taking a good hard look at what we're doing in education and what research shows our Kindergarten-age students really need. Something to consider.

First Week of Kindergarten Confessions

I admit that I was surprised when I picked my son up after his first day of school and he was upset. Really upset. I didn't know what it was about. I had been standing out by the letter "F", our designated pick-up point with the herd of other anxious Kindergarten parents, when I saw him come out of the front door of the school in a line of other adorable and tired looking 5 year-olds. Immediately, he ran to me. And just as quickly, the teacher reached down and tried to move him back toward the wall. I understand why they did it. They need to keep order in the midst of the afternoon chaos. They have to keep track of all of those kids! I would be upset if they lost him. So, I do understand that. Really, I do. But my 5 year old... well, let's just say that he didn't. It was the end of a very long day away from me and he was done. It was time to be with mom now and there was no logic that could change that.

As the teacher moved him away from me, he burst into tears. The first thing out of his mouth was, "I don't ever want to go here again. Ever." I held him and just listened to his feelings. Thoughts spun around in my head: was the whole day like this or was it just the last few minutes. He cried and I held him, refraining from launching into the series of questions that were heavy on my own mind. The next thing he said was, "I didn't even get a snack. I didn't want what was in my lunch." Oh, I thought. Was there more that happened during this first day of school than what I had observed? I held my judgment, knowing that he was upset and needed to just work through his own feelings before I tried to talk more about it.

As he began to settle down, we were able to walk to the car and start talking about what my two boys wanted to do to celebrate the completion of the first day of school. We decided upon a buffet. As everyone settled into their seats, my older son asked Josh if he wanted to go back to school tomorrow. I held my breath, wishing that he hadn't asked that question, knowing he really didn't have that choice, yet secretly glad that he asked it. He hesitated, then responded: "If you ask me if I'm going back, I will always say... YES!"

What?

He had a good day. He stayed on a green light (not my green stoplight kind of green referring to a state of calm, but the school version of not being bad sort of green light, which of course is really about being able to stay calm and regulated anyway... it just isn't used that way- yet.) and he had enjoyed his first day.

Huh.

I was relieved that it had been a good day for him. But secretly, I think I was hoping it would be cut and dried that it wouldn't work. That I wouldn't have to go through the days and weeks and months of trying to keep him motivated to go to public school when I believe there are better choices that are more in alignment with my own beliefs about what young children should be doing with their time.

Day 1, I thought. It is only the first day. 179 more to go.

Every day this week, I started to see signs of protest. Tuesday, he half-heartedly said, "I don't want to go," as he proceeded to get himself dressed and put on his shoes. His actions weren't congruent. It was almost like he thought he was supposed to complain.

Wednesday, he was a bit more insistent that he didn't want to go. He got himself dressed, but refused to put on his shoes. But he got willingly into the car. I put his shoes on him while I told him a story when we had arrived at the school. This was the first day I left him at the door to the outside of the school and his brother walked him to class. (Well, actually, Josh knew the way, so Zack followed him to make sure he found it OK.)

Thursday, he didn't want to get dressed. Or eat breakfast. He was playing. It took Zack magic to get him excited about going. Yes, today was PE day and he had looked forward to this after hearing his big brother talk about it all last year. He got dressed with my help and we made it to school. Thursday was the day at pick up that Josh was totally escalated into a red light brain state (survival- fight, flight, or freeze) when the teacher tried to physically put him back on the wall.

Friday, he point blank refused to go. "There are too many rules," he said at my prompting. "I can't even get out of my seat." My older son and I worked together and eventually got him dressed and into the car. When we reached the front door to the school, he refused to go in. The teacher at the door tried to help and suggested that there was an oatmeal cookie for breakfast today. It wasn't on his diet (he has some dental issues going on), but at that point I told him he could have it today. He may have no teeth left when this is all over, but he will have gone to public school Kindergarten. It all just seems wrong somehow. Why is getting him to go in more important than anything else right now?

Granted, he seems to have a good time once he is there. And I'm glad for this. Last year, he had a brief time in Pre-K and he didn't like it. I didn't see the point in forcing the issue, so I didn't and pulled him out again to be home with me. It was a very good decision for him. It was what he needed. This year, I think he has a much better teacher who is kind and respectful. He is making friends. He smiles when he talks about school, except for the drop off part. And being away from me, which is very hard for him.

I don't know what next week will bring, but probably more questions than answers as we feel our way through this huge transition. Whether you are homeschooling and starting school now or transitioning to a program away from home, school is a transition for everyone. How is everyone doing right now?

Reflections of a new Kindergarten Parent

Tomorrow my baby will be starting Kindergarten. I've known this day would come since he was an infant and his older brother went off to school for the first time. I suppose that is what comes to mind when I think of Kindergarten and the first day, since I don't really remember my own first day of Kindergarten. I was only 4 when I went away to school for the first time, since the state I lived in required children were 5 by the end of the year to start. But I was ready for the playing, the singing, the coloring, the stories... I remember my teacher, Ms. Hart. How could you go wrong with a Kindergarten teacher with that name?

Fast forward to when my older son went to school. I had been planning to homeschool him. After retiring as an elementary school teacher forever even before my oldest was thought of, I really didn't plan to send him. But my husband, who had staying in education, had different ideas. When my son Zack started asking to go to school, I felt I needed to give him the opportunity to try it out. We enrolled him and I chose his teacher because he had connected with her during the "testing" process to see what he already knew going into school. Before school even started, he had changed his mind and decided that he didn't want to go anymore. But we were committed now and it felt like there was no going back.

That first day was so hard... for ME! My husband went with me to drop him off, our 9 month old in tow in his sling. After our tearful goodbye at the door, my husband and I walked away hand in hand and cried some more before my husband went off to work and I went home to our quiet house with only my baby. I missed Zack terribly! We had been connected since the day he was born- before really- and we had never really been away from each other. Especially not for so many hours.

As the days and weeks passed and we went through many painful goodbyes at the door to his classroom, I began to wonder why I was doing this. I stayed true to my commitment to not throw him into the classroom crying as I had seen other parents do. I would stay until he was ready for me to leave. When he was ready, he would give me a nod and the baby and I would head home. Some days were easier than others. Some were painful from the moment his eyes opened. But his teacher was caring and always did her best to reach out to us, supporting us when she could.

So we stayed. He learned how to write and he was reading before the end of the year. His math was way ahead. But he wasn't really happy. Finally the year came to a close and summer arrived. It took a long time before he really relaxed into summer and back into the rhythm of our family's life. I started to really feel connected to him again as it drew nearer to the time that school was to begin again. That was when I felt it: a strong urge to keep him home with me. I brought it up, but it wasn't really an option. It was suggested that we just give it a try. He'll be fine.

School started again and with it came chaos. He was fine at school- a model student. But at home, it was a nightmare. He would have temper tantrums for 2-3 hours most nights. I couldn't figure it out, so I went in to observe. I was horrified to see only about 5 minutes of direct instruction during a 3 hour time block! Clearly I could do better myself.

I took my case back home to my husband and we explored our options. We finally decided that the best choice was to bring him home to homeschool, so that's what we did. Once he was home, he started to relax more and to begin to enjoy life again. But I found it curious that he was refusing to read and refusing to write. I knew it wasn't important and that eventually he would be willing to read and write again. And I was right- now he is writing very well and reading way above grade level. So what did his Kindergarten experience really do to him? He was "ready" to read and write according to the experts at the school, but was he really ready for all of that pressure? Was he ready to abandon his need to play and to be close to me or did we push him too hard, too fast? It took a lot of time and patience to undo the damage.

Now Zack willingly goes to school. Actually, he loves it. He couldn't wait to get back to it. Would he have felt that way without the break? I don't think so. He is ready for that sort of pressure now and actually enjoys it in a way that I don't think I ever really did. I'm just glad to see that he's happy after all that we went through.

So tomorrow, I start this school journey with my youngest son, Josh. I must admit, I am reluctant after my experience with his older brother. I am also very concerned about the lack of unstructured playtime in Kindergarten. After an exhaustive search, I've found the majority of schools near me are similar: early academics are the rule, rather than the exception. What happened to play? What happened to the play house and the dress up station? Painting and circle time? They seem to be casualties of this push to make our children do better on state testing.

But we're missing the point. We're missing the point that children's work is play and that there is no more powerful way to teach a child than to respect the way children learn best at the age of 5 and 6. Children who are pushed too hard, too fast, too early are more likely to diagnosed with learning problems that wouldn't exist if we simply gave them time to develop at their own pace. Teachers have also told me that they are seeing many more discipline problems than in the past, probably because Kindergarten children are facing 5 hours of academics per day with no time to play out the stress in unstructured playtime. Yes, that's right. Kindergarteners. Can you pay attention for 5 hours without a good long break to de-stress? I can't.

Teachers aren't to blame. They're all upset about it, too. When I spoke with another long-time Kindergarten teacher last year, she told me that she had finally decided to get rid of the play house in her classroom. She said with pain in her own eyes that it was just too difficult for them to look at it and not be able to play in it every day. Another Pre-K teacher said that Kindergarten teachers are giving away huge sets of very expensive wooden blocks because they don't have time to use them anymore. Something is wrong with this picture. Since when have children lost the need to play?

With all the stress in our society today, children's need for play is greater than ever. Yet, there is less and less time for this critically important activity. School days are planned down to the minute of every day and then most children are involved in other outside structured activities once they leave school. Homework and dinner round out the evening, then bedtime before we do it all over again.

I'll keep writing on this topic and share how things unfold for us this time around, along with my own attempts to make some changes within the system. I'll also work to provide the time and space for that much needed playtime for my own children and share what works for me this time. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this topic as well.

Someone to listen... really listen

I have a lot on my plate and on my mind right now. School is starting soon and we have quite a bit of indecision going on about where our children are going to go. Well, I don't have indecision, but others in my life do. I reached a point today of being on a total red light. I was back in survival myself with my amygdala's fight, flight, or freeze response hijacking me. When I get this overwhelmed, I tend to go into a freeze mode. I've gotten much better at identifying that this is where I've gone now and working my way out of it. This is what I did.

I went outside by myself and watched the rain fall earlier this evening. I needed some time to quiet my mind and my nervous system and found the rain to be soothing. I was dozing as I sat on the patio, letting my incoherent thoughts swirl around in my brain. I focused on my breathing, taking in deep breaths- feeling my breath all the way down into my belly. I have no idea how long I was out there, but eventually my children came to find me.

When I had returned to a yellow light (emotional part of the brain, which was a step up for me from that red light), I connected with a friend I knew could really just listen to my feelings. I called her up and just let whatever needed to come out in whatever form and order it needed to come out to do just that. I'm sure it wasn't pretty, but I knew that she would be willing to do that for me. I knew that my feelings wouldn't be bothersome and that I would be safe expressing them to her.

After about 15 minutes of being on the phone with her, I started to feel better. I had been heard. I had been listened to and embraced. And I was now back on a green light (regulated and calm), ready to return to my life and to make the decisions I needed to make to move forward. As I looked back on my earlier thoughts, they were completely irrational. With the time and the connection with my friend, I had moved out of that irrational place and back into true connection with myself and my own inner guidance.

This is what our children need when they are upset. They need someone to listen to them... really listen to them. They can make it back to that regulated place when someone invests the time in them to listen to their feelings without trying to make it better or to explain to them why they shouldn't feel that way. Try it with your child and see how it goes. And let me know! And if you haven't had this experience, find a wise friend who can listen to your feelings. This is how healing happens for parents and for children!

I eat butter and other do other unconventional things

My 10 1/2 year old son walked into the kitchen tonight as I was putting the butter away and said, "You know mom, there are commercials that say that butter is bad for you." I stopped when he said it and listened. "They say that it is one of the deadly sins or something like that." I nodded. "That's strange. We put like two sticks of butter in our potatoes," he continued. We talked about how everyone needs to make their own decisions about such things with the information they have available to them. We choose to eat butter, but not everyone does. And that's OK.

And with that conversation, I began thinking about all the things I have been doing that most people don't. I know everyone will make their own decisions and each person needs to decide for themselves what they can live with. I don't want everyone to be exactly like me and to make all the same decisions I have made. My decisions are right for me, but not necessarily right for you. I've spent years researching some of my decisions and realized that most of the information I've found isn't what most people are hear, so some may scoff at my decisions. I've made it my goal to get information out to parents so that they can make their own decisions in a truly informed way. That's what the Consciously Parenting Project is really about.

It isn't easy to be different, but it is the road I am traveling during this lifetime. I know within my heart that I am true to myself and that's what really matters. I choose to respond to my child who is having a temper tantrum in the store, even if all eyes are on me waiting for me to reprimand him. I choose to homeschool or not according to the needs of my child at any given time. I chose to unschool my oldest child for a while, then I followed a Waldorf curriculum because it was what was right for him. I still co-sleep with my youngest child and I allowed him to wean himself from breastfeeding when he was ready (and it was years before he was ready). I choose to limit my children's exposure to television and to junk foods, even when their friends do those things. I don't punish my children when they "do something wrong," but rather connect with them and help them to calm themselves before we talk together about what happened and how we can make it better. I work from home so that I can be with my children when they need me (and feel grateful that I am able to do this). I buy our food directly from farmers as much as possible. And I eat butter.

Are you parenting differently? Are you making choices that are different than most people make? Do you feel like you're the only one who feels the way you do? Tell me about your decisions and how you feel. I know I'm not alone.

Happy Birthday, Parenting Outside the Box!

Yesterday, on July 1, 2009, I completed the first draft for my book, Parenting Outside the Box, which will be published later this year. I'm so excited to have this part finished! It has taken me more than 2 years of writing and 36 years of personal and professional experience to get to the point that I could write it! The book was handed into the loving arms of my book "midwife" who is going to clean it up and get it ready for publishing! It has been an amazing journey that has gotten me here to this point and I'm so excited to share it with you!

If you are on Facebook, I'm posting quotes from my book all day today there. If you'd like to join us there, here is a link to the Consciously Parenting Facebook page. Check it out and share it with your friends if you like what you read! Here are some quotes to get you started:

Feedback loops are patterns of communication, spoken and unspoken. It is important to recognize that intention, unconscious communications, and body language speak just as loudly, if not louder, than our spoken words.

When we seek only to make a behavior stop, we miss the communication and sometimes even the opportunity for our child to develop to his fullest potential.

The words we use to describe our children can help to connect us or create disconnection right from the start.

The difficulties our children present to us are opportunities for us to grow beyond where we are in this moment.

I'll be posting more later today on Facebook. Check it out!

What do you think of when you read those? I'll be posting excerpts here over the coming weeks and months so that you can read some more of the book yourself.

Hope you are having a wonderful day!