For the last few years, I have started the New Year’s off with a cleanse. I find it a great way to purge my body physically and mentally of not only the fatty foods, sugars and alcohol consumed for several weeks straight, but also the stress and changes of the past year. A way for me to shed my skin, so to speak, and start fresh. The rough part is that the beginning always makes me sluggish. I guess detoxing out the impurities of the year before can wreck havoc on your system. Needelsstosay, I felt uninspired to write yesterday because of it. And though, it is totally mind over matter, my physical body was taking over my mental state too much. As a writer, inspiration is key to writing a great piece. Thus, the challenge begins today!

My daughter came home from school yesterday, and at first she seemed fine, but as the day went on I could tell something was bothering her.  After a few hours of my attention being focused on the boys, we were sitting at the table together while she was painting, and the babies were sleeping.  She finally said to me, “Mommy, I have to tell you something that happened to me today.”  I knew this was my chance to be a good listener for her, to create a safe space where she would want to come to me all the time. I checked myself to make sure there was no judgement, just listening, so I would be able to respond intelligently and profoundly.  (As a side note, amazing how she identified the moment that I was actually present with her so she could have a conversation with me.)

“OK, what is it?” I asked waiting anxiously to get to be this amazing person for her.

“Someone in my class farted. It wasn’t me, and this boy in my class told everyone it was, and they all laughed at me.”

Immediately I found myself judging, protecting, and wanting to knock this little boy out. How could someone do this to MY daughter? Who is this kid? What’s wrong with his parents? Don’t they teach him to be polite and respectful and that he should work with his peers as a team so they all feel supported and loved? Profound my ass!  I was full of blame and judgement.  I had allowed the emotion of the situation to take over and control my thoughts and actions, afterall, this was my little girl and her feelings we were talking about, but I knew this was not the way to handle it. My intention is to create a world full of possibility for my children through my choice of language. I knew I had to carefully select my words so she could work through the emotion. At the same time, teach her about the things I had hoped the parent of this kid had taught him. I also felt it important to create that safe space within the family, not just with me. What if I wasn’t available to her, who would she go to? I want her to know that her family is there for her, not just her mommy.

Identify the issues.

1.  Lack of Integrity & Support.  It wasn’t about this kid. I cannot control his thoughts, actions or words. What I can do is talk to my daughter about how this incident made her feel.  I wanted her to know that integrity is a foundation for who we are.  And when someone challenges our integrity, it’s necessary to take a stand for it.  In her case, being accused of something she did not do made her feel confused as she is still needing and wanting to be liked and accepted by her peers.  We brought attention to her emotions at the time. She was embarrassed, she felt let down by her classmates and unsupported by her friends. In her words, “Sad. Everyone laughed at me and nobody likes me.” She does have a flair for the dramatics, so then we had to go back and dissect “everybody” and “nobody”. I asked her about specific friends and what they did when it happened. Turns out, that her buddies didn’t laugh, and everyone went about playing right afterwards.

2.  Lack of Accountability. Unfortunately, the teacher mistook who was at fault for starting all this commotion and had another little boy apologize. This also upset my daughter because the kid who started it wasn’t being held accountable for his actions.

3.  Lack of Compassion.  I suggested that one way to not be laughed at is to laugh with them. But sometimes we are not strong enough to let our ego go, especially when you are 4 years old. So we talked about why people do things like that. They need attention, are jealous, insecure…but again, we don’t always know what motivates others, and this could also be mistaken for being judgemental. I had to sleep on it. And maybe she didn’t really need any words from me other than, “I love you,” and a big hug. We just let it be.

This morning, though, I couldn’t just let her go to school with unresolved issues. How did I know they were unresolved? She got angry at her brother, slugged him and locked herself in the bathroom chanting, once again, “Nobody likes me, everybody hates me.” Her brother, not knowing what had happened yesterday, looked at me in bewilderment. I told him what happened, not sure if it should come from me or not. I took the chance as my goal is to get them to do it on their own one day, but I think they need the coaxing now to learn that. Of course, at first he laughed, then we talked about offering her encouragement and advice. He is such a sincere and thoughtful kid. He finished getting dressed, and at breakfast, brought up the incident. She was embarrassed again, but we talked about it as a family.

We don’t always have to right words to say, but sometimes just having a conversation around situations helps to make them feel less intense, less serious. Sometimes, bringing others into the conversation brings about ideas and different ways of learning, new perspectives, discovering what they would do. Discussing actions and consequences. It was a simple conversation, yet I think she was beginning to feel more confident about it.

Finally, I wanted to leave “food for thought” in thier minds pointing out to her that in life, this stuff happens all the time. “When you were little, this happened to you?”

“Well, yes, and it even happens as an adult,” and my children thought that was hysterical because they thought I was referring to being accused of passing gas in public places at the age of 35. But getting back to my point, that I wanted them both to know that these things happen in life, and it’s how we choose to handle these situations that makes us better, stronger and smarter. That these moments do not need to define who we are as long as we don’t let them.

Before she left, I wanted to point out the items of importance to her.

• My son reminded her that not all of her friends laughed at her. (Support Group)
• She restated that she wasn’t the one who did it. (Integrity)
• She wanted to talk to the teacher about acknowledging the person responsible for this fiasco. (Accountability)
• I asked both her and my son, now that they know how this would make a person feel, what actions will they take the next time something like this happens to someone else. (Consequences/Actions/Compassion)

As I ponder these deep thoughts over my green tea this morning, my husband walks into the room to report his discussion with the teacher. His take is way less detailed than mine, as he tells me that her class has 13 boys in it and 3 girls. Farting is way more fun and less serious to boys than girls, so she probably took it more personal. I think back to the conversation at breakfast this morning, and remember my son saying, “What? It’s just a fart. I fart like 20 times a day in class.” And I have to laugh because it’s so true. What was dragged out into a two day conversation about emotions and feelings and how to deal with these situations with my daughter was a conversation handled in 20 secon
ds with my son. To her it was the end of her world. To him, it was just a fart.

In the end, it was a great opportunity to challenge myself.  I saw an opportunity for them to learn compassion, accountability, and integrity.  I don’t know if I am doing this right, but I’m taking the chance.  It’s amazing how a little thing like a fart can offer a ton of learning.

Am I doing this right??  Who knows??  It’s the thought that goes through my head on a regular basis.  Again, another great learning I took from my previous employer, “Do one thing a day that scares you.”  As a parent, that is so easy to accomplish. 

I have been thinking for some time now that I have wanted to write on the power of language.  Oddly enough, I couldn’t organize my thoughts to the point that I was satisfied with how I would approach the topic.  I attended the Landmark Advance course a year ago in November.  I learned so many things over those four days, but the one thing that has always been top of mind for me was the piece on language.  I guess it struck me in such a way because I related it to me raising my children.  They teach you there is no “right or wrong” there are choices and consequences.  They teach you you are perfect exactly the way you are.  They teach you your words create others’ universe.  The power of language.  Immediately, I thought of my children.  I have the choice to create possibility for them by the language I choose to expose them to.  When you think about this, it can seriously paralyze you from making any moves because you don’t want to make the wrong one.  But then again, there is no “right or wrong” there is only consequences for your actions, which puts me back at square one, “Do one thing a day that scares you.”  And, this, my friends, is taking the chance on being actively involved in your childrens’ lives by choosing to parent them. 

The biggest transformation for me was when I realized that my children do not belong to me.  I have been blessed with their little souls, and someone…the universe or God…chose me to guide their little lives to the best of my ability.  The reality is that it’s their life and it’s their choices.  I can only teach them what I know based on my experiences, and guide them through choices and decisions they will have to make in their own lives.  I cannot force them to be someone they are not.  I cannot force them to make choices they do not want to make.  I can only create a world of possibility for them, and be there for the many experiences life has to offer.  And be grateful that I was chosen to be that person for them.  Of course, easier said than done.

Did I mention I am Italian, Irish, German and Cajun?  A great blend of passionate, yet temperamental ethnicities.  And, I have to admit, I have a very challenging time keeping my temper.  I am surprised that my kids’ first words were nice four letter words, like mama and dada…though they have been known to throw out a few expletives every now and then, which my husband always eyeballs me when it happens.  And, I have to take full credit for this, because, amazingly (is that a word??) his parents very rarely curse, and therefore, neither does he.  We were raised by very different parents.  I like to say my family is more…expressive. 

I had to laugh the other day when I ventured out with all four children to an outdoor shopping mall in my neighborhood.  It was the day after New Years, and Rockstar hubby was spent from his crazy busy weekend entertaining his customers for New Year’s Eve.  So I decided to take the kids, including the twins, out of the house so he could sleep.  We went to a local coffee spot for hot chocolate and cookies. The babies were great and slept the whole time, the kids were awesome and very well behaved.  It took me about 20 minutes to get everyone out of the car and it was probably one of the coldest days we have had all winter.  Regardless, off we went.  At the coffee shop, we had many admirers (you often do when there are twins involved), asking all kinds of questions about the kids and the babies.  Finally, one person said to me, “I can’t believe how calm you are.  You are so relaxed taking all these kids out.”  And I thought to myself, “not sure my kids would agree.”  So when I started thinking about my intentions for the New Year, I thought, I seriously have to kick it up a notch and truly be this person who wants to create a universe of possibility for my children…verbally, as well as in my actions and thoughts.

Sunday and Mondays are family dinner nights because those are the nights R.S. hubby is off and he gets to have dinner with the kids.  So we are pretty strict about that.  It is the time and place for the family to come together and talk about our day, our goals, what made us laugh, cry, whatever.  I have worked really hard to establish this as a safe place for my family to come together and just be.  The kids will ask me now if they can read a story they wrote at school at dinner, or a sing a song they learned.  They come to the table with conversation pieces, and I am so proud of that.  We talk about manners and etiquette.  Last night, my son renegotiated his entire allowance system to include bonuses and incentives (yes, he’s 6).  Tonight we talked about resolutions and intentions.  I explained to them what my intention is for 2011.  To create a universe full of possibility for them through my choice of language.  We started off by discussing “Requests” and how they can respond to a “Request” by accepting, denying or negotiating.  I requested they be more mindful of when they snack and drink to only take what they think they need to feel satisfied.  This went along with the conversation my husband had with them last night about budgets and savings…which lead into allowances and chores.  After some discussion, they accepted my request.  On some level they get it.  And I know we will have to keep communicating to them repeatedly until they truly do, but I’m OK with that, because it is our choice to parent our children in that way.  We want them to understand why, so they are empowered to make their own choices later in life.  My kids are not OK with a simple, “No”.  They want to know why, and it’s only fair to teach them so they know their consequences based on the choices they make.

I accepted the challenge of a 21-day in home yoga practice offered by Yoga Journal .  I need this to restart my practice after several long months of not practicing.  I figured it gives me the freedom to structure my workouts based on my needs.  They figure after 21 days straight of practicing, it will put me back into my routine of needing and wanting yoga in my life everyday.  So I am going with the same theory for my intention.  I am going to blog once a day for 21days my progress with my intention.  Forcing me to be mindful of my language, knowing I rely on my integrity when I go to write about it, and being held accountable by the invisible presence of the Internet audience.  They will be short and sweet and to the point. The goal is that this 21 day writing program has crept on in and shaped me into the person I am going to be for my children.

This is going to be a fun challenge!

I was raised Catholic, as was my husband.  All of our children have been baptised Catholic, but my daughter attends  a Jewish school.  When I was 4 years old, my parents sent me to the Jewish pre-school a few blocks from our house.  I don’t remember much about my kindergarten experience at the public school down the street, but I can tell you all about my time at Temple Beth Shalom.  Because my experience was so great, we decided to send our daughter to Midbar Kodesh, a Jewish Early Education Center for ages 18 months-5 years when she was 2 years old.  Though there are many obvious differences in the two religions, initially what I loved about Midbar was that she was learning bible stories, the same ones we learn in Catholicism, and a new language, Hebrew.  Though it wasn’t Spanish or French or Italian, I justified it as a way for her to open her mind to new cultures, languages, religions…essentially, she was becoming more worldly at a very young age.
For the past three years, I have attended every Chanukah and Spring program.  Together, my husband and I have supported the school monetarily as much as we could, mainly because we were both working full time, and that was all we could do.  They needed school supplies…done.  They needed extra funds for the teacher’s gifts…done.  They needed toys donated for the classrooms…done.  For the last two years, I truly felt like a participant in my daughter’s education.  I was so wrong, in fact, nothing could be further from the truth.

Since I left my job in May, obviously, I’ve had more time on my hands.  I was able to participate in field trips, chat with the parents when picking up and dropping off, be more involved in scheduling play dates (which my daughter has managed to do on her own…she has no fear of asking adults for what she wants), and getting to know the teachers better.  The last few months I have started to realize what I had been missing out on while working full time. For the record, I am not writing this in judgement of working moms or SAHMs, I’m just writing this on my experience.  I was able to see both sides of the spectrum, and realize what an amazing experience my daughter has had for the last three years.  For example…

On a regular basis, she will speak to us in Hebrew words.  When she was 2 and 3, she would get frustrated that we didn’t know what she was talking about.  Now, she teaches us.  Last year, she was angry that we didn’t know what a shofar was, now she proudly sings songs that demand we “blow the shofar”, and we happily oblige.  For the last two Chanukah celebrations, we sat through programs full of  religious songs and terms we didn’t know, this year, we celebrated Chanukah in our home with little gifts and displaying her home-made menorah while she told us stories about the Macabees and the burning of the oil. 

This year is the last year we will be celebrating Chanukah.  Next year, our daughter will attend a public school where she will become even more wise to the ways of Santa and the commercialism that has taken over the holidays.  And though I am excited for her to enjoy Christmas as we know it, I am sad to leave behind the Jewish traditions that have become apart of our family. 

A few weeks after she was born, she developed RSV.  At any given time, she would spike fevers, or have difficulties breathing, so I was afraid to leave her with anyone.  We went everywhere together. For 18 months.  Finally, enough was enough.  I needed to go back to work full time, and she needed socialization.  My son had done very well at a private school known for its routine and emphasis on education, but I knew that wouldn’t be the right place for my little girl.  She needed coaxing, a comforting and loving environment.  A place where she would feel confident and secure, yet have artistic freedom and education.  She needed her “Bubbe”.  The first few days I dropped her off, she cried when I left.  The first day I called to check on her and make sure she was OK.  The second, and third day, they called me to tell me she was fantastic.  As soon as I would leave, she would don a smile and color and play and have the best time of her life.  Unless you are a mother, you cannot imagine the relief you feel when you drop your child off in the care of someone else, and they treat them like their own.  It is an amazing feeling.

This year, though only four months into it, I have already realized what I have been missing out on, and what she has been getting.  She loves all of her teachers, and even recognizes that they all have their own personal style.  As we walk down the hall to her classroom, she stops at the rooms of each of her past teachers to say hello or good-bye, give them hugs, and find out what the kids are learning that day.  She walks with confidence into her own classroom and consoles the kids in her class who are timid or sad, playfully hugging and greeting the other ones.  Every day after school she reports to me what each person in her class did that day, what her teacher said, how she was rewarded, etc.  She stops by the EEC Director’s desk every day to ask for a sticker.  You can tell by her walk that she rules her school.  My daughter is amazing.  I don’t know if I had that much confidence at her age.  She amazes me everyday.

And though I would like to take 100% credit for that, I can’t.  I can’t because I know at least 25% of that comes from her experience at her Jewish school.  After this last Chanukah program, the Director and I were speaking and I told her how sad I was that this was our last one.  And how grateful my husband and I were of the time our daughter had here. Again, to find an institute that cares for your children in a way you hope all child care facilities would, is priceless.  I am going to miss the parents, the programs, the teachers and I know she is going to miss her friends.  It’s exciting and sad at the same time to know that 2011 brings the beginning of an end, as well as a new beginning.

At one point last year we considered taking her out of Midbar and enrolling her in a private school more focused on education, committed to having our daughter reading by the time she got to kindergarten.  I spent alot of my time sweating the small stuff…private or public? intense curriculum or more relaxed? secular vs. non-secular?  Now that we are living our choice, I see the bigger picture.  Sure, she may not be reading when she walks in the doors of kindergarten, but she is going to walk in with confidence.  She is going to have pride in her school.  She is going to know what a sense of community is like.  Things that she learned by attending Midbar Kodesh.  I am so proud of our her, and so happy that the gamble we made on her early education turned out to be a good one.  A great one.  As parents, we spend so much of our time worrying about the dice we are about to throw for our children’s future.  It is comforting to know that sometimes our throws are lucky.