The Facebook Guilt Slap

You know these, right? This was the most recent one I've seen on Facebook , but there are numerous others that are all one in the same.

How do you feel after reading that?

Honestly.

I just read:

Guilt. Guilt. Do More. Guilt. You're not spending enough time with your kids. Guilt. Guilt. Appreciate them more. Guilt. Love the sh!tty days. Ignore those "touched out" jitters. Guilt.

I'm sure not everyone reads it like this, but I also can't be the only one. Your toddler has been incessantly whining for over an hour about needing a snack ten minutes after you cleaned up breakfast, the baby just had her third blow out diaper by 11 am and your husband texted you he will be home late from work. You've given yourself a five minute time-out from the toddler by hiding in the shower and this heartwarming gushy quote appears in your Facebook feed.

GUILT SLAP

Better step out from behind the shower curtain and embrace the whining.

Okay, bitter rant is over. I had a sh!tty day so I decided it was good timing to tear this quote and all the similar ones to pieces.

I get the sentiment.

I totally get that I'll blink and my snack monster will be 18 and want little to do with me. I do savor what I can. I try to take snapshots in my head. I have a notebook by my bed where I try to write the cute things she says and does that I would never remember otherwise. I put my phone down and SEE them. So don't guilt me. Don't imply it's not enough. I heap enough guilt on myself without any outside help.

What the author of this quote doesn't get is that these little people are a huge part of my world. And if I don't take care of myself or set boundaries, I get lost, frazzled, and I can't enjoy them at all. So I actually find these guilt messages a bit dangerous. Especially if it's read by a mother suffering from depression or anxiety.

What I have found as a mostly Stay At Home Mom is that if I don't set limits or take breaks, I savor less. When I do take breaks, I enjoy my time with them that much more. So no, I'm not going to let my child jump into bed with me. That's my space and I need my sleep. And get this-- if I do let her jump into bed, as the quote says, it won't make me savor and appreciate this time more. It detracts from it.

And embrace the hard days? That's asking too much. Do you embrace your hard days at your outside the home job? I certainly hope not. I see it as progress if I can roll with the rough days.

I get it that when you're older, your kids are older, and you're not sleep deprived or dealing with a major meltdown in the Target checkout, that you get nostalgic. And you have hindsight--that this small child period is--in the grand scheme of things--short. But don't tell me that when I'm in it--when I've had a week straight of crappy days--because it's only human to crave a chunk of time to yourself. For peace. It's okay to not feel quite as loving toward the child who has been testing you all day.  That was your entire world that day.

Whoever wrote that quote can gladly come and watch my kids while I savor a glass of wine on my deck in peace.

Signing off as the mama who is not embracing this exhausting day, but is bracing herself for the next day by savoring sleeping kids.

Bearing witness to a toddler tsunami

I have a  delusion. It's a bit unconscious,  but it's always  humming in the  background  of my  mind. I  seem to  believe that you, the reader, and  lots of  other  readers have it all together.  That you have a  fairly  clean and organized  house at any  given time  and  to do lists are achievable. I am  always  competing  with you even though you are a fictional  character in my mind,  who by the way, is also fit, witty, and very sociable. I realize this is NOT based in reality.

I haven't found a good cleaning rhythm or schedule as a mother. It's not usually a trashed mess but also never seems completely clean or orderly. This frustrates me because I feel as though I'm in a constant state of cleaning and picking up, which I have found is the complete opposite of mindfulness and makes me feel very restless and irritated. I'm always in complete awe of the mothers who have found a way to keep up or at least appear to keep up. Perhaps this is some fantasy that I've just projected out there.

I hate picking up the toys, burp cloths, random clothes, blankets, and dirty socks off the floor because within a couple of hours it will look the same. So sometimes I don't.

I also despise dishes. For some reason I have it in my head that it's possible to have a clean picked up kitchen for more than 30 minutes  but I've come to the conclusion that that's only possible if I were to camp out and live in the kitchen.  I equally despise the restless irritable feelings I get when I am constantly picking and cleaning up. It's a vicious lose-lose circle for me. I've heard of some women who find it calming to pick up. It makes me irritable.

This morning a light bulb went off. I'm not sure why because on the surface it looked similar to probably 40% of my other mornings. The kitchen was a mess. Dishes crying for mercy. Aftermath of a war with splattered Ketchup in the sink. Rejected brown pears on toddler plates. Last night's pots and pans on the stove. I was behind.

I also had a toddler sprawled on the bathroom floor, upset after I had set a boundary 20 minutes prior. I was sitting on a toddler stepping stool in the bathroom while brainstorming how to handle this new phase of my three year old swatting away any comfort and yelling every time I calmly reflected her feelings. She was a burrowed turtle shell lying  on the shower rug. I decided to not touch her, but sit with her and verbally let her know if she needed something from me, I was there.

For some reason it hit me. That's why the kitchen is a mess and I can't keep up. I'm doing more important work at the moment. When she's angry and screaming and pushing me away, it would be much easier to go do the dishes. Dishes are actually much more appealing in that moment.

Granted, after a bit I let her know where I was going if she needed me and I began to tackle the kitchen because, well, it's a might balancing act. But for a good 20 minutes she needed me. Even though on the surface she was pushing me away, I sensed she needed me there, focused on her, even if only for a short time.

I found it affirming to myself. Dishes can't wait forever but they will be in a perpetual state of being behind. Can I let that go? Can I accept that? I'm  doing  important  work. Being a witness to her emotions, being present, being available, and reflecting her difficult emotions.

 As a therapist, I have seen many people struggling as adults from supressing and  bottling  their emotions, and no one accepting or bearing witness to them. So I realized how very important this moment was and to dig in, especially if  mentally and emotionally I felt I could handle it.

Which leads me to, sometimes I can't.

Admittedly there are times when I'm just not in a mental space to always be there for her emotionally and sometimes it's okay to ignore the tantrum and just go do the dishes. That's the challenge of parenting. There's no set guidelines to follow for every situation. It's  always in flux, with many shades of beige.

However, my mini epiphany was that I  saw what I was doing, in that moment, as valuable, and affirming myself for it. Like gosh, that was hard and I didn't do it perfect, but I did good and it was just as important as when I worked as a mental health therapist being present with an adult who is depressed. Personally, it's more important to me because it's my child.

Whether I  can mentally  and  emotionally  sit and bear  witness  or even if I  can't and I  leave the room to ignore the tantrum,  unconditional  acceptance of her emotions is probably the most important piece. This  involves  more than  just ignoring. I  let her know she has a right to her feelings  no matter  how  intense and  unpleasant, I  make sure she knows  where I am  if she needs me, and most importantly,  mentally  I let go and  just allow the  tantrum  to  run its course  (as long as no one is  getting  hurt).

While she needs  someone  present, it strikes me how a difficult  piece of  motherhood is how much is done without much acknowledgement because of the  nature of it. There is  no venting to a coworker  in the  office  next door  between the  hours of  9 and  5. Many tantrums you experience  alone, with no other  adults present.

While I  don't expect a pat on the  back  for every  hard thing I do (no matter what the job), mothering,  especially those hours your spouse isn't  home, can be lonely. Again,  it's part of the territory  but the affirmation and  acknowledgement is significantly  less than when I worked  outside of the home at a civilian job. I wonder if this  contributes to mothers' depression? It's easy to lose sight of what you're doing. Your world becomes smaller.

After a work meeting you might  process with a  colleague what you  said to Tonya during the meeting.  At home with a  toddler I can't  ask another adult,  was my tone too harsh when I scolded little Jonny? Am I off today? I have no witness for a good 40 hours a week.  And so, holding off on the dishes,  not only  helped my toddler but it helped me to slow down.

Slowing down.

Noticing  what I was doing.

Being mindful and aware of  myself.

Even if it's just to notice my own emotions.

I was able to witness what I was doing and affirm myself.

Mama Llama Challenges: Intervening less as a parent

Here you see not only two crafts but two different parenting styles.

The one on the left I gave a lot of guidance, prompting, and helping. The one on the right,  I shaped the paper plate for her, but after that I did a lot less intervening.

During the crafting of the first snow man I became aware of how much I was imposing. Part of this was out of excitement. Honestly, it makes me feel like a child again, since these skills have been dormant for over twenty years. I was eager to join in, see how it would turn out, and whether we could actually replicate what I had found online.

I  held the paper while she cut out the scarf and I was prompting how to cut it in the "right" shape. I held the paper plate, while she put the glue on. She stuck the eyes where I pointed they "should" go. I had her put the glitter glue buttons on, but again, I guided where would be the "best" placement. I gave her a black maker to draw the mouth. We were doing it together.

I had given her the tasks that I knew she could do and I guided or did the rest so that it would look the way the craft is intended to look. We were both excited with how it turned out. And yet something was missing. I felt as though I had robbed her. It looked like it was "supposed" to and yet it wasn't fully hers. It didn't have her touch.

So with the second one, I instructed myself to back off. Not entirely, but much more so. To let her be and become more aware of my own impulses and feelings. I created the paper plate cone for her, but then I let her create. I prompted still with "what does the snow man need?" "What else might he need?" but otherwise she was on her own.

I found that I really enjoyed watching her create. His orange hat was changed to a face of sorts, although she called it a nose. She chose yellow all on her own to draw the mouth. She put lots of glue on each eye. I also let her decide when she was done. It was kept simpler, and that was okay.

I later wondered what she would have created if I had not demonstrated the "correct" one first.

Granted this is just a craft, but as a parent and what I've witnessed in other parents, we are so eager to show the "right" way in many scenarios. Of course, brushing teeth has a standard way that must be taught, but if it's something creative or when it comes to play, why do we still feel a need to intervene so much? Is it because this is what we were taught? Is it because we lost that true art of wild imagination and creativity since as children we were shown the one way of doing things? Even in play. Did we lose that ability from lack of use? Due to the brain being trained and socialized into doing things the "right" way. Perhaps creative solutions to problems are also completely lost as we become adults in the workplace,  politicians attempting to fix a country, or as a researcher of cancer.

I hope to find a good balance. I still want to help her make the craft as it's been designed to look , but maybe she can first try it her own creative way. Or maybe I make one the intended  way while simultaneously she makes one her way. There's also the balance to consider regarding her age. More assistance the younger the child is, but I've also noticed that when I intervene less, she's capable of more than what I expected.

As a side note, I realize a lot of days you just need to give yourself a pat on the back for managing to get the glue out and actually finding a clean piece of construction paper in between the kitchen timer going off and the baby fussing and the millions of other tasks a parent does in a day. But on occasion the stars do align and there's the luxury of sitting and being present with my child while doing a craft and these are things I like to observe and think about.

I also like to find very small ways in which to intervene less, especially with things where it doesn't really matter how something is done. For example, when she does her ballet DVD, I never correct or show her, even when she's not doing it "correctly." I have to make a conscious effort to be this way because it's a knee jerk reaction to automatically show her how.

I first came to learn this approach through RIE articles, particularly those by Janet Lansbury. She addresses an alternative approach to how we might interact with children and tackles several different challenging behaviors as well. Here's a sample article of hers about play and creativity:

http://www.janetlansbury.com/2012/08/are-you-putting-the-kibosh-on-creativity/



Note: This in no way relates to or represents the  Llama Llama children's books  although we do adore the  series and I  personally  can relate to Llama mama's  stress!