My 12-year old son just returned home from a vacation to grandmas.  Upon seeing each other at the airport, we flew into each other's arms, happy to see each other again. The long trip home was filled with story after story of his week long adventures.  It was a wonderful reunion for the whole family.  Within hours of returning home, my quiet peaceful sanctuary was suddenly noisy again.  Children gathered in the front room, basketballs could be heard outside, the dog ran back and forth yipping and jumping on everyone.  Initially, I felt a little bit irritated.  I didn't want neighbors and electronics and sports to invade my little world so soon.  I wanted to bask in the reunion and feel the connection a little longer, typical of my watery nature.  My son was happy to be back and ready for some action.  His airy nature swept him from computer, to basketball hoop, to the kitchen, to pingpong, to video games.  He started negotiating a later bedtime before he had even unpacked.  He was awhirl with activity. 

As I stepped back to observe the situation, I realized that my expectations and my son's expectations of how his return home would be were very different.  No one was right and no one was wrong, we are just both very different.  I decided we could both get our needs met if I gave him a day to readjust and acclimate first.  I allowed him time and space to experience the joy of reclaiming his belongings, favorite activities and friends.  Once that was accomplished, I resolved to ask for some time together, just the two of us.  Little did I know, I was in for a surprise.  Right after breakfast on his second day back, my son turned to me and said, "Mom, let's do something fun together today, just you and me.  Want to?"  I was elated.  Not only were we going to have some time together, but it was at his initiation.  No twisting arms, no guilt trips, no negotiating.  We were both getting our needs met while honoring who we inherently were.  I love being his mom!

I'm feeling a little edgy today, not really grumpy, but just enough "off" to notice it.  I'm not my usual chipper self and don't feel like chatting.  Today is a day for introspection. I'm used to the ups and downs of life and make allowances for days like these.  I haven't known anyone in my adult life who is always happy, always "on."  Yet, isn't this what we often expect of our children?  I've witnessed parents cajoling, teasing, shaming or scolding a child who is grumpy.  We seem to have adopted a zero tolerance policy for irritable, ill-tempered kids.  If we find ourselves unable to "pull" our children out of their "mood," we often begin blaming external circumstances.  Mikie is teary because he is teething.  Rachel is quiet because she didn't get enough sleep.  Jordan is hyper because he ate sugar.  The excuses go on and on and on.  What a gift we would give our children if we were able to accept their various moods with as much grace as we do our own.  What if Mikie was allowed to be teary "just because,"  and Rachel was quiet because she's having a shy day.  Jordan is happy and just plain exuberant.  Everyone has good days and bad.  Human beings are capable of experiencing a multitude of emotions.  Next time you are tempted to blame your child's cranky behavior on some external circumstance, don't.  Instead, smile and say, "Well, I guess you're feeling a little grumpy right now and that's okay!"

Zach couldn’t wait to go swimming.  He wondered if 2:00 o’clock would ever come!  He loved going to the pool with his mother and sister.  The water felt cool and soothing as Zach paddled from one end of the pool to the other.  After about 10 minutes, he began to notice that he felt cold.  Strange, he had been so hot!  He decided to leave the pool and sit in the sun for awhile.  Noticing his mother sitting poolside, he approached her slowly.  Suddenly and without warning a wave of nausea hit.  Zach turned to hurry toward the bathroom, but it was too late.  The next thing he knew he was retching at the side of the pool.  Mom rose slowly and arriving by his side said, “Well I guess we’re done swimming for today.”  Zach began to cry.

Renee rushed from the car hoping to be the first in the door at the ice cream parlor.  She hated having to wait for everyone else in the family to make their decisions.  She knew exactly the flavor of ice cream that she wanted!  As she pulled at the heavy door, she glanced back to see how close her brother was.  As she looked back, she failed to notice that the bottom of the heavy door was headed straight for her flip-flop clad foot.  Alas, the pain was searing as the door caught the nail of her big toe, pulling it from her foot.  She began to sob and hop around.  Mom, approached slowly, examined the toe and then nonchalantly asked, “Shall I order your cone?  You can’t go into the store bleeding all over the place.”  Renee continued sobbing and curled up in a ball on the ground.

These real life stories illustrate the difficulty parents sometimes have in acknowledging or affirming childhood trauma.  We think that if we minimize the situation, this will encourage our children to move on, but it is impossible to move beyond a situation that isn’t even acknowledged.  In fact, this approach has exactly the opposite effect.  It forces our children to hold onto their pain in an attempt to receive the support they need.  If you take time in the moment to truly acknowledge your child’s physical and emotional experience, encouraging them to breathe deeply and talk to you about how they are feeling, you will be amazed at how quickly they are able to move through the experience.  Energetic blockages are formed when we breathe shallowly and hold onto our pain.  Energetic health is restored, when supported by loving arms we breathe deeply, allowing the pain to move through.

Ever notice how easily children experience the emotion of pure joy?  I work with children who have every reason in the world to be sad, depressed, angry or punitive because of their life circumstances.  I am always amazed at the swiftness with which they transcend their life circumstance, embracing laughter, joy and forgiveness.  Jimmy was a child I knew many years ago who had been neglected as a result of his parent's addictions.  He was one of the most joyous little boys I have ever known.  Having gone without food, he would inhale any treats that you shared with him and then quickly hide the leftovers for later.  When visiting his parents at their treatment centers he would light up with pure joy upon seeing them.  When playing with other children, Jimmy was the first one to comfort a disappointed or sorrowing playmate.  His unconditional love inspired me.  His boundless energy exhausted me. 

Joy is an effusive and watery energy that is easily shared.  So next time life seems overwhelming, or you find yourself feeling grumpy, seek out a child.  They'll be happy to remind you how to play and feel light-hearted.  They'll be happy to share their joy.

We all know that we need to pay attention to our kids.  When little Johnny is throwing a tantrum at the store, or Abigail says a bad word, there always seems to be a family member around who is happy to remind us that they're "just trying to get our attention."  We immediately feel guilty because this comment implies that we are inattentive parents.  Teachers and therapists all talk about attention seeking behaviors in children.  In my work, I rarely focus on attention seeking or giving, but rather on parenting and teaching from a place of intention. 

Attention involves having an awareness of, an interest in, or noticing what your children are doing.  Intention involves having a purpose, goal, aim, or target for your children.  Attention often keeps us on the defensive, whereas intention requires us to take an offensive approach.  My son's basketball coach loves to say, "crowds are won through defensive maneuvers, but games are won through offense."  I agree.  Parenting may look impressive in the short-term using a defensive strategy, but long-term rewards are realized through an offensive approach.  Intentional parents are always actively engaged and naturally attentive.