We're six weeks into this quarantine. The experience has been filled with ups and downs. I've felt more calm, more at peace, more accepting of life's imperfections. I've recognized that Evie and Cora will fight sometimes and that's okay. I can only try to discourage cruelty amidst the fighting. But to allow them to bicker and assert themselves is okay.
I have been having trouble sleeping this week. Mostly out of fear of what this world is. What our new reality is. How to help my family thrive amidst all of this. And I of course recognize not every moment will be great. Life is still messy and uncertain, even if we're set off from the rest of the world. We can still enjoy each other one minute and be so completely annoyed the next. Because that's just how it is. The beauty of family is that you have to love one another even if it's not exactly as you want.
The challenge is remember to offer that love to each other, and perhaps more importantly to ourselves. This morning Evie was so upset that she couldn't draw a princess. Her friend is hosting an online party where people show their drawings and she is mid perfection melt down. She thinks she's dumb. She's not an artist. She's not as good as her friends at drawing. She thinks there's a "right way" to do it. She's trying to not get made fun of. And oh.my.gosh. was it hard to listen to her beat herself up over something that's supposed to be fun. I had almost a visceral reaction, wanting to tell her we'll just not attend the virtual party. Wanting to tell her to stop drawing and get to work. But I saw the opportunity to gently allow herself to hear how rough she was being on herself. I'm not sure if she absorbed anything I was saying (the curse of being a parent right? You've been through all this before and you'd like to show them the short cut, but they have to learn it on their own!), but I'm hoping she at least took in part of the moment. In that moment I encouraged her to hear the way she was talking to her brain, and asked her what her brain would believe about herself if it listened. It would believe she was dumb, and incapable. I asked what that would translate into for a drawing. She got angry with me and pushed me away. These things are hard to hear.
Then I reflected back on my own experience and realized that during this past week of not sleeping I'm admonishing myself the same way she was. I'm saying "ugh. here you go again. what is wrong with you? why can't you just sleep? Let it go!" Taking my own advice from this morning, perhaps my approach could have gone more like "you're tired. you're scared. right now it feels like you'll never sleep beyond 3am again. it's okay. this is hard. this is all hard. and you're doing as well as you can at any given moment." Perhaps taking self-compassion rather than self-flagellation will take me into peaceful sleep again. And even if it doesn't, it will certainly feel much better than getting angry with myself. Because honestly, this is hard. It's really hard. And I am scared about what it means for the future of the world and for my children's eventual adult lives when I'm no longer a filter protecting them from this harsh world we live in.
I look at friends who claim to "celebrate everything" through grand gestures. Cakes weekly. Donuts on Fridays. Making a big fuss out of every holiday. And at first I feel guilty I don't do that for my kids. But I realize that type of thing stresses me out. Instead I want my girls to find beauty and celebration in small moments. In nature. In family. In mountains or rivers or snow or flowers. And so I will continue to point those things out. And perhaps make a bigger deal out of them. Because that's what makes this messy life worth living. This incredible planet that we are so blessed to inhabit. And the dear people in our lives who bring us joy. I will choose to find celebration in these things; even in just breathing.
I have been having trouble sleeping this week. Mostly out of fear of what this world is. What our new reality is. How to help my family thrive amidst all of this. And I of course recognize not every moment will be great. Life is still messy and uncertain, even if we're set off from the rest of the world. We can still enjoy each other one minute and be so completely annoyed the next. Because that's just how it is. The beauty of family is that you have to love one another even if it's not exactly as you want.
The challenge is remember to offer that love to each other, and perhaps more importantly to ourselves. This morning Evie was so upset that she couldn't draw a princess. Her friend is hosting an online party where people show their drawings and she is mid perfection melt down. She thinks she's dumb. She's not an artist. She's not as good as her friends at drawing. She thinks there's a "right way" to do it. She's trying to not get made fun of. And oh.my.gosh. was it hard to listen to her beat herself up over something that's supposed to be fun. I had almost a visceral reaction, wanting to tell her we'll just not attend the virtual party. Wanting to tell her to stop drawing and get to work. But I saw the opportunity to gently allow herself to hear how rough she was being on herself. I'm not sure if she absorbed anything I was saying (the curse of being a parent right? You've been through all this before and you'd like to show them the short cut, but they have to learn it on their own!), but I'm hoping she at least took in part of the moment. In that moment I encouraged her to hear the way she was talking to her brain, and asked her what her brain would believe about herself if it listened. It would believe she was dumb, and incapable. I asked what that would translate into for a drawing. She got angry with me and pushed me away. These things are hard to hear.
Then I reflected back on my own experience and realized that during this past week of not sleeping I'm admonishing myself the same way she was. I'm saying "ugh. here you go again. what is wrong with you? why can't you just sleep? Let it go!" Taking my own advice from this morning, perhaps my approach could have gone more like "you're tired. you're scared. right now it feels like you'll never sleep beyond 3am again. it's okay. this is hard. this is all hard. and you're doing as well as you can at any given moment." Perhaps taking self-compassion rather than self-flagellation will take me into peaceful sleep again. And even if it doesn't, it will certainly feel much better than getting angry with myself. Because honestly, this is hard. It's really hard. And I am scared about what it means for the future of the world and for my children's eventual adult lives when I'm no longer a filter protecting them from this harsh world we live in.
I look at friends who claim to "celebrate everything" through grand gestures. Cakes weekly. Donuts on Fridays. Making a big fuss out of every holiday. And at first I feel guilty I don't do that for my kids. But I realize that type of thing stresses me out. Instead I want my girls to find beauty and celebration in small moments. In nature. In family. In mountains or rivers or snow or flowers. And so I will continue to point those things out. And perhaps make a bigger deal out of them. Because that's what makes this messy life worth living. This incredible planet that we are so blessed to inhabit. And the dear people in our lives who bring us joy. I will choose to find celebration in these things; even in just breathing.
No comments:
Post a Comment