Wednesday, November 16, 2011

A Simple Shift in the Parent-Child Dance


My son bared his teeth and moved his head in toward mine so that our foreheads nearly touched. For a split second, I thought he was going to bang into my head. With that realization dawning, I decided he was being playful and just moving in to kiss me. I reached toward him and kissed him. He then smiled and told me how much he loved me. A few minutes later, after he had gone back off to the other room to play, it occurred to me how differently that situation would have gone if I had decided that his action was a threat to me. How many times do our interpretations of our child’s behavior lead us down the path to more disconnection? Or toward connection?
            We interpret our child’s behaviors hundreds of times per day, mostly unconsciously. If things are generally going well with our child and with us, we’re more likely to have the patience and the wherewithal to interpret our child’s behaviors in a positive light. If we’re feeling overwhelmed for any reason, or if our relationship with our child is generally not going so well, we’re more likely to interpret our child’s behaviors in a negative light, regardless of the intention of the child. I’m not saying that our children are always completely innocent or that they don’t need to learn to communicate with us effectively to get their needs met. Rather, I’m pointing out that sometimes just a simple shift in our interpretation of what our child is saying or doing can make things go in a positive direction.
What do you think of when you see this picture? What words do you associate with the expression on his face? While some may see a child who is scared, others may see an angry child. Others might see someone who is playful. And this is all just from a two-dimensional image.
We are constantly making observations, judging behaviors, and then interpreting what our children do—all in the blink of an eye. Many of these judgments and interpretations are based upon previous circumstances and how things worked out for us (or our loved ones) in the past. The primitive part of the brain is responsible for screening all things happening around us for possible threats. If I had allowed my amygdala (the primitive part of my brain responsible for the fight, flight, or freeze response) to take over in the situation with my son above, I would have fought back, run away, or frozen. Because I was aware of myself and realized that my five-year-old wasn’t really a threat, I was able to interpret his behavior in a different way that had a positive outcome.
            “My daughter is manipulating me!” “He did that to me on purpose just to make me mad!” “I’m the parent, and he needs to listen to what I say!” Phrases like these are common among parents, and they are remnants of another age in which we did not fully understand brain development and what is really going on in the minds of our young children. We often overlay adult thinking onto what we are seeing from our children, even when they are not capable of this kind of complex thought. These kinds of phrases only create more disconnection in relationships because the interpretation is a judgment that the child is wrong or bad. But what if we asked ourselves what is the best possible interpretation for what our child just did? When we start to shift our interpretations and change our language to give our children the benefit of the doubt, there is then the possibility of change!
            Our children are always doing the best they can do at any given time. This statement is not always readily agreed with when I say it to parents. But let me ask you this: Are you always doing the best you can in any given situation? (Not that you always handle things perfectly, but do you have good intentions?) Do you set out to do a lousy job and make everyone around you upset? I’d be surprised if you said yes. Our children want to please us, even if it doesn’t look like it sometimes. They need us to hold the higher consciousness for them, to know and feel that they are doing their best. They need our support and our guidance, not harsh words and criticism. 

Excerpted from Consciously Parenting: Creating, Nurturing and Repairing Relationships
Chapter 6: How We Interpret Our Children's Behavior, Publication date Spring 2012

Sunday, September 11, 2011

The Day the World Stopped

I was driving to the park with my almost 3 year old son, though I hadn't yet reached the end of my street, when I saw my neighbor in his driveway pacing and looking distraught.  I'm not clear if he was watching a portable TV or listening to a hand-held radio, but his face showed shock and terror.  I stopped and asked him what was wrong.  After a few moments, he told me that the World Trade Center tower had been hit by an airplane.  I continued on to the park, not sure what else to do.  Surely it was a terrible accident and not deliberate as my neighbor, Mike, suggested.  The rest of that morning was a blur.  Was it safe to be outside?  Did this really even happen?  Even though I was living in Florida at the time, no one knew what was going to happen next.  It seemed that no one was safe.

An hour later, I was home in front of the television trying to make sense of it all.  I was pregnant at the time with a baby I would later miscarry and I sat with my hand over my belly wondering what kind of world I would be bringing this baby into.  I cried as I watched the rescue efforts and thought of the families who had just been torn apart by this senseless act.  And I hugged my son tight.

But the thing that I will remember the most about September 11, 2001 and the days afterward was the silence.  Yes, there was the near constant blaring of the television and its haunting images as we tried to make sense of it all.  But when we stepped outside, there was an unaccustomed silence.  There were no planes in the sky.  No jets overhead.  No small planes.  The skies remained eerily silent as we all took in the full impact of what had happened, wondering if there was more to come.  We all felt vulnerable.  And raw.  And the world seemed to stop.  The nation paused and seemed to mourn together, even as the rescue efforts continued.  There was a collective silence that I hadn't experienced before. Or since.

And so it is in that same reverence that I pause on this September 11, 2011 to remember those whose lives will never be the same.  For my friends and clients who lived in NYC at the time who are forever changed.  For those who lost friends and loved ones.  Eventually, the world started to return to some semblance of normal, but for many it was forever changed.

In the silence, we remember.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Our Needs vs Their Needs? Is there a better way?

-->
Hello! This post has moved to our website. 

You can find it here: http://consciouslyparenting.com/needs-ours-theirs/

See you there!

Wednesday, June 1, 2011