Today the children and I explored a little neighborhood of Washington, DC called Palisades. It is North of Georgetown and South of our city of Bethesda, Maryland. It's a really cute place, with little shops and cafes and restaurants and a curious mixture of personalities.
Having a general sense of where we might find food and the location of the Palisades playground, I parked the car and put Arlo and Elsa in the double stroller and we set off. I was hoping to pick up sandwiches we could take with us to the park, but instead we stumbled upon a little Italian restaurant with a great front table calling our names. The front table was drenched in sunlight and had views of the major road running through Palisades (MacArthur Blvd) as well as the homes across the street. We muched on warm bread with olive oil and yummy sandwiches, and then set off for the park.
There's a quaintness to the neighbohood. There are some homes belonging to people who are obviously well-to-do and there are some rental houses you just know belong to 20-somethings (couches on the front porch being one tell-tale sign). I've not seen so many houses with kayaks leaned up against fences since I've lived in Durango, Colorado, a small town with many, many boaters. It makes sense, because of Palisades' close proximity to water perfect for kayaking.
I was pleasantly surprised by the size of the park and grateful for its shade, as I had forgotten to pack a bonnet for Elsa (9 months). One thing that bothered me about the park was its maze of tree forts that prevented me from seeing my 2.5 year old as he climbed up and down and over bridges and ran through tunnels and slid down slides. Normally I don't have to have my eyes on him all the time, but there was a child of about 7 who was there causing problems (pushing smaller kids, etc) and I wanted to make sure this kid didn't do anything to Arlo.
We rotate through about 6 different parks, and each one has its own personality. Some parks you will find mostly nannies, some will be filled with moms and dads. The nannies are all the same but the parents are different depending on where the park is located. This park was about evenly split between parents and nannies. The two most tuned out caregivers - one mom and one nanny - were in charge of the two worst kids at this park. Both children needed their caregiver to put away the cell phone and teach them how to behave.
We stayed a little later than we should have, but nobody had any meltdowns. The kids snacked on Goldfish and water as I wheeled them back to the car, winding through more streets.
Next week school starts for Arlo, so our morning outings as a threesome will be confined to Fridays. I am actually looking forward to creating a ritual - Adventure Fridays. We'll pick a new spot each Friday. With a diaper bag filled with emergency supplies (snacks, drinks, cell phone, diapers, wipes, wallet) we'll set sail for a new land. I can hardly wait.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Who do you think you are?
One of my favorite inspirational bloggers is a woman named Christine Kane. Singer, songwriter, creative coach, this woman does it all. Her post today really spoke to me, because I am fighting the voices in my head telling me I cannot pull off some of my current dreams. I'm excited to share it with you. - Shelby
____________________________________________
Who Do You Think You Are?
You’ve heard it.
I’ve heard it.
We can even laugh about it because it’s so common.
I’m talking about the snarky voice in your head that mouths off whenever you think about being a little bolder, or a little decadent, or more self-nurturing.
It’s the voice that says, “Who do you think you are?”
I’m embarrassed to admit this, but mine shows up as a group of high school girls.
Their eyes are lined with thick black pencil. They wear concert t-shirts. Their hair is burnt from too many home perms. One of them steps forward and says, with her hands on her hips, “Who do you think you are?” And then she turns to the others and says, “Who does she think she is?” Then they all take an aggressive step forward. (Welcome to an average day at my old high school!)
My friend Joy told me that “Who do you think you are?” jumps in whenever she imagines hanging out on the sofa reading magazines.
A few years ago, I saw Oprah speak. She said that every time she wanted to achieve more, the first voice she heard was “Who do you think you are?”
Every woman I know has her own version of this voice waiting in the wings.
In other words: Stay down, play small, shut up, and don’t embarrass yourself. Don’t even bother because you won’t make it, you don’t deserve it, and everyone knows it, and they’ll all laugh at you when you fail.
So, next time that voice jumps up in your head, here’s what you do:
Answer it.
Really. Who do you think you are?
-------------
One time, I was telling a mentor about some fears coming up around a choice I was making.
I said, “…and all the voices in my head are saying, ‘Who do you think you are?’”
And he looked at me and said, “Well? Who do you think you are?”
I smiled and continued with my story.
He cut in.
“No. Stop. I really want to know. Who do you think you are? Tell me right now.”
In a very tiny voice, I told him.
Then he made me say it again in a bigger, stronger voice. And again after that.
He said, “There. Now you have an answer for your voices.”
Now I do this exercise every time those voices arise.
Here’s a tip:
When you answer that question, use language that speaks the truth of your strengths and values
In other words, make it authentic.
It’s tempting to recite something that sounds “lofty” or “holy." I know you know what I mean. “I am a divine being, living in divine perfection with power and grace..and blah blah blah...abundance and light."
Okay, fine.
True as that may be, if that language doesn’t resonate with you, you’ll never feel any bolder, and those high school girls with the black eye pencil will put their cigarettes out on your shoe.
The Co-op of Lack
My theory is that “Who do you think you are?” is actually a Co-op.
It’s a collective body of voices saying, “Agree with us in the lack that we see! Agree with us that there are no other options! Agree with us that no one has any power over life conditions!”
It’s actually pretty convenient.
It’s convenient to have this world-view because it gives you permission to stay stuck. It never requires that you do anything about it because after all, you’re dealing with a whole world-view!
Think about it.
When you say, “I no longer want to work with this abusive client,” you’re also saying, “AND, I believe there are multitudes of others out there for me.”
When you say, “I’m gonna nap right now, and I will be more productive and happier because of it,” you’re also saying, “AND, I believe that there’s more than enough time for me to get my to-do’s done.”
Get it?
Essentially, you’re telling the Co-op that you’ve decided to create a whole new world-view!
Extra Credit Bonus Tip
Let’s be honest.
Most likely there are occasions when you’ve been the one saying, “Who does she think she is?” (Even if it’s only in your head.)
Don’t be ashamed. It simply means that you have more opportunities to shift those old lack mindsets. Usually those mindsets are saying: “I’m feeling small and poor, so she should be small and poor too.” We’ve all caught ourselves doing this.
Even if it’s uncomfortable, you can choose to bless or praise anyone who seems to be taking bigger strides in her life. Then remind yourself again who you think you are, and join her!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Performer, songwriter, and creativity consultant Christine Kane publishes her 'LiveCreative' weekly ezine with more than 4,000 subscribers. If you want to be the artist of your life and create authentic and lasting success, you can sign up for a FRE*E subscription to LiveCreative at www.christinekane.com.
____________________________________________
Who Do You Think You Are?
You’ve heard it.
I’ve heard it.
We can even laugh about it because it’s so common.
I’m talking about the snarky voice in your head that mouths off whenever you think about being a little bolder, or a little decadent, or more self-nurturing.
It’s the voice that says, “Who do you think you are?”
I’m embarrassed to admit this, but mine shows up as a group of high school girls.
Their eyes are lined with thick black pencil. They wear concert t-shirts. Their hair is burnt from too many home perms. One of them steps forward and says, with her hands on her hips, “Who do you think you are?” And then she turns to the others and says, “Who does she think she is?” Then they all take an aggressive step forward. (Welcome to an average day at my old high school!)
My friend Joy told me that “Who do you think you are?” jumps in whenever she imagines hanging out on the sofa reading magazines.
A few years ago, I saw Oprah speak. She said that every time she wanted to achieve more, the first voice she heard was “Who do you think you are?”
Every woman I know has her own version of this voice waiting in the wings.
In other words: Stay down, play small, shut up, and don’t embarrass yourself. Don’t even bother because you won’t make it, you don’t deserve it, and everyone knows it, and they’ll all laugh at you when you fail.
So, next time that voice jumps up in your head, here’s what you do:
Answer it.
Really. Who do you think you are?
-------------
One time, I was telling a mentor about some fears coming up around a choice I was making.
I said, “…and all the voices in my head are saying, ‘Who do you think you are?’”
And he looked at me and said, “Well? Who do you think you are?”
I smiled and continued with my story.
He cut in.
“No. Stop. I really want to know. Who do you think you are? Tell me right now.”
In a very tiny voice, I told him.
Then he made me say it again in a bigger, stronger voice. And again after that.
He said, “There. Now you have an answer for your voices.”
Now I do this exercise every time those voices arise.
Here’s a tip:
When you answer that question, use language that speaks the truth of your strengths and values
In other words, make it authentic.
It’s tempting to recite something that sounds “lofty” or “holy." I know you know what I mean. “I am a divine being, living in divine perfection with power and grace..and blah blah blah...abundance and light."
Okay, fine.
True as that may be, if that language doesn’t resonate with you, you’ll never feel any bolder, and those high school girls with the black eye pencil will put their cigarettes out on your shoe.
The Co-op of Lack
My theory is that “Who do you think you are?” is actually a Co-op.
It’s a collective body of voices saying, “Agree with us in the lack that we see! Agree with us that there are no other options! Agree with us that no one has any power over life conditions!”
It’s actually pretty convenient.
It’s convenient to have this world-view because it gives you permission to stay stuck. It never requires that you do anything about it because after all, you’re dealing with a whole world-view!
Think about it.
When you say, “I no longer want to work with this abusive client,” you’re also saying, “AND, I believe there are multitudes of others out there for me.”
When you say, “I’m gonna nap right now, and I will be more productive and happier because of it,” you’re also saying, “AND, I believe that there’s more than enough time for me to get my to-do’s done.”
Get it?
Essentially, you’re telling the Co-op that you’ve decided to create a whole new world-view!
Extra Credit Bonus Tip
Let’s be honest.
Most likely there are occasions when you’ve been the one saying, “Who does she think she is?” (Even if it’s only in your head.)
Don’t be ashamed. It simply means that you have more opportunities to shift those old lack mindsets. Usually those mindsets are saying: “I’m feeling small and poor, so she should be small and poor too.” We’ve all caught ourselves doing this.
Even if it’s uncomfortable, you can choose to bless or praise anyone who seems to be taking bigger strides in her life. Then remind yourself again who you think you are, and join her!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Performer, songwriter, and creativity consultant Christine Kane publishes her 'LiveCreative' weekly ezine with more than 4,000 subscribers. If you want to be the artist of your life and create authentic and lasting success, you can sign up for a FRE*E subscription to LiveCreative at www.christinekane.com.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
today i am grateful for...
Today I am grateful for:
70-something degree, sunny weather
beautiful playgrounds
my toddler son's can-do attitude towards potty-training
my infant daughter's amazing laugh
the little nap i was able to take mid-day
this uplifting video, about body image:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YDenxdQTD7o&feature=player_embedded
70-something degree, sunny weather
beautiful playgrounds
my toddler son's can-do attitude towards potty-training
my infant daughter's amazing laugh
the little nap i was able to take mid-day
this uplifting video, about body image:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YDenxdQTD7o&feature=player_embedded
Monday, August 31, 2009
Reclaiming Our Power as Parents
Last week I visited a toy store with Arlo and Elsa. While there, Arlo and a boy who looked about three or four became engrossed in play with the toddler train set, while Elsa happily stood at the train table, looking on. Meanwhile, I browsed, wishing for a "mom" table of my own so that I could take advantage of these precious minutes where neither child needed me.
After about ten minutes had passed, the mother of the other boy asked him a question that made me cringe: "Can we go to my store now?"
The boy, being all of three or four, and not understanding adult subtleties, responded honestly. "No" he told her.
That's when the mom became upset. "Excuse me???"
I couldn't bear to hear any more. I announced to Arlo and Elsa that it was time to go, and even though Arlo protested I led him by the hand outside the store. No negotiations, no explanations, no sweetening of the pie ("If we leave now you can have a sucker...")
Of course the boy said no, they couldn't go to the mom's store yet, because she had asked him if it was time and he wasn't ready. I can only imagine how confusing it must be for him, to assume you are being asked your opinion when really your parent has a specific answer they are looking for.
I don't remember my parents ever asking me if it was time to do something. Ever. Thank God.
Have we as parents handed our parental responsibilities over to our toddlers/preschoolers/middle schoolers/high schoolers? From what I see being out and about with my two kids, I would have to say that sadly, many of us have. How many times have you said the following:
* "What do you want for breakfast?"
* "Are you ready to leave the park?"
* "Are you cold? Want to wear your coat?"
Language matters. Boundary-setting matters. Being the parent matters. Give the child the security of knowing that you are in charge. If it's breakfast, offer a healthy meal. If it's time to go home and take a nap, announce it's time to leave the park, and then go home. If it's cold outside, put a sweater or coat on your baby and move on.
And if you EVER catch me asking one of my kids for permission to go to "my store" kick me in the tooshie.
After about ten minutes had passed, the mother of the other boy asked him a question that made me cringe: "Can we go to my store now?"
The boy, being all of three or four, and not understanding adult subtleties, responded honestly. "No" he told her.
That's when the mom became upset. "Excuse me???"
I couldn't bear to hear any more. I announced to Arlo and Elsa that it was time to go, and even though Arlo protested I led him by the hand outside the store. No negotiations, no explanations, no sweetening of the pie ("If we leave now you can have a sucker...")
Of course the boy said no, they couldn't go to the mom's store yet, because she had asked him if it was time and he wasn't ready. I can only imagine how confusing it must be for him, to assume you are being asked your opinion when really your parent has a specific answer they are looking for.
I don't remember my parents ever asking me if it was time to do something. Ever. Thank God.
Have we as parents handed our parental responsibilities over to our toddlers/preschoolers/middle schoolers/high schoolers? From what I see being out and about with my two kids, I would have to say that sadly, many of us have. How many times have you said the following:
* "What do you want for breakfast?"
* "Are you ready to leave the park?"
* "Are you cold? Want to wear your coat?"
Language matters. Boundary-setting matters. Being the parent matters. Give the child the security of knowing that you are in charge. If it's breakfast, offer a healthy meal. If it's time to go home and take a nap, announce it's time to leave the park, and then go home. If it's cold outside, put a sweater or coat on your baby and move on.
And if you EVER catch me asking one of my kids for permission to go to "my store" kick me in the tooshie.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Potpouri of Thoughts
Arlo peed in the potty today! One point for the lazy mama potty trainer!
Yesterday at the park a man asked if I was Arlo and Elsa's babysitter. He profusely apologized when I told him I was the mama. I told him I took it as a compliment, that I must not look as old as I feel. I don't totally take it as a compliment, though.
We took the babies and Nailah (teenage stepdaughter) on a tour of the East Wing of the White House today. Ever wear high heels while carrying a 9 month old in a Baby Bjourn? Fun times. The babies did fantastic, though. Arlo got some laughs when he said, "Mommy, where's Obama?"
My knitting class was a huge success. I learned to knit in two sessions. My goal: one amazing scarf for The Hubbie for Christmas. Next up: I start pottery classes in mid-September. I've wanted to learn to make pottery since at least the movie Ghost.
I've run twice this week. And it's August in Washington, D.C., so that should count as, like, four runs. During today's run, pushing the jogging stroller, all I could think was "Mama's back in the saddle."
Until next time...
Yesterday at the park a man asked if I was Arlo and Elsa's babysitter. He profusely apologized when I told him I was the mama. I told him I took it as a compliment, that I must not look as old as I feel. I don't totally take it as a compliment, though.
We took the babies and Nailah (teenage stepdaughter) on a tour of the East Wing of the White House today. Ever wear high heels while carrying a 9 month old in a Baby Bjourn? Fun times. The babies did fantastic, though. Arlo got some laughs when he said, "Mommy, where's Obama?"
My knitting class was a huge success. I learned to knit in two sessions. My goal: one amazing scarf for The Hubbie for Christmas. Next up: I start pottery classes in mid-September. I've wanted to learn to make pottery since at least the movie Ghost.
I've run twice this week. And it's August in Washington, D.C., so that should count as, like, four runs. During today's run, pushing the jogging stroller, all I could think was "Mama's back in the saddle."
Until next time...
Monday, August 24, 2009
Potty Training - Report from the Trenches
Well folks we have progress. The past few weeks we've talked about pooping and peeing in the potty, and Arlo has seen the new undies his friends are wearing. My mom (Arlo's "Nanna") sent him super cool Spiderman and Batman underwear that he's stoked on. Today - out of the blue - he told me that he wanted to wear the new underwear and not a diaper.
I wanted to jump up in the air and yell something like "sweet!" but I kept my game face on and offered Arlo an uninterested "ok." I didn't want to make a big deal of it, lest my enthusiasm be seen as pushy and cause him to change his mind.
So all morning he wore his underwear. I held off going to the park because I wanted him to use the toilet at least once before we left the house. Five times he urgently called me to the bathroom, where we stripped him down and plopped him on the big toilet and he strained his face as if to pee and poop.
But there was nothing.
Still, each time we pulled up his clothing and washed his hands, to set the stage for hand-washing after every future bathroom visit. For some reason, he just wouldn't go into the toilet.
Of course, as soon as we put the diaper on and went to the park, he did his business.
Bribing Arlo with M&Ms is not working. Every kid has their price, and for some it's books and others it's candy. With Arlo, I've got to throw down the gauntlet. No more cartoons until we're pooping and peeing in the toilet. That accomplishes two goals at the same time, unless of course he responds by closing the door on diapers forever. In which case, my little blog will offer it's first give-away: two boxes of brand new size 5 diapers!
Until next time...
I wanted to jump up in the air and yell something like "sweet!" but I kept my game face on and offered Arlo an uninterested "ok." I didn't want to make a big deal of it, lest my enthusiasm be seen as pushy and cause him to change his mind.
So all morning he wore his underwear. I held off going to the park because I wanted him to use the toilet at least once before we left the house. Five times he urgently called me to the bathroom, where we stripped him down and plopped him on the big toilet and he strained his face as if to pee and poop.
But there was nothing.
Still, each time we pulled up his clothing and washed his hands, to set the stage for hand-washing after every future bathroom visit. For some reason, he just wouldn't go into the toilet.
Of course, as soon as we put the diaper on and went to the park, he did his business.
Bribing Arlo with M&Ms is not working. Every kid has their price, and for some it's books and others it's candy. With Arlo, I've got to throw down the gauntlet. No more cartoons until we're pooping and peeing in the toilet. That accomplishes two goals at the same time, unless of course he responds by closing the door on diapers forever. In which case, my little blog will offer it's first give-away: two boxes of brand new size 5 diapers!
Until next time...
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Two Little Words
Tonight, while tucking my 2 1/2 year old son into bed, he muttered two little words that stole my heart:
"Love you."
At the risk of ruining the moment, I asked for clarification. "Did you just say that you loved me?"
He giggled. "Yes."
I squeezed him tightly, the darkness masking my smile.
This little boy owns my heart.
"Love you."
At the risk of ruining the moment, I asked for clarification. "Did you just say that you loved me?"
He giggled. "Yes."
I squeezed him tightly, the darkness masking my smile.
This little boy owns my heart.
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