Tag: Awe

The Gift in Slowing Down to a Child’s Pace

Tabitha writes, “I wanted to share an experience from my family’s first vacation. I just returned form a two-week stay in Mexico with my husband and 15 month old daughter. The first week was shared with my entire extended family as we celebrated the wedding of my younger sister. I was extremely excited to introduce my daughter to the beach and the swimming pool. I grew up in the water and my daughter loves the bath so I looked forward to her excitement in playing in such vast bodies of water.

We have been taking RIE classes since my little one was 7 months old, but it was as if everything got thrown out the window at the beginning of vacation. After arrival, we immediately went down to the pool to meet my family so everyone could see my daughter’s first pool experience. In my excitement, I did not see that it had become about everyone else’s experience, not my daughter’s. My husband and I got in, but my daughter was hesitant.

I still can’t believe it, but I picked her up and brought her in with me! She started crying and I looked around at my family members (strangers to her at this point) trying to “make” her happy by making crazy faces at her and I was snapped back to reality. What was I doing? We got out, I apologized to her for bringing her in when she was clearly not ready, and we explored the grounds by her lead.

Gracie on the beach, 2002

Later that day, I walked with her down to the beach, just me and my daughter. I explained where we were going but I had no expectations, no agenda. We walked to where the sand meets the water and I sat down and my daughter stood between my legs. Our faces were next to each other as we looked out to the ocean. She stood there for five minutes, mouth half open in awe. Five quiet minutes of awe. She will never see the ocean again for the first time, and I was fully present, and honored to share the moment. It was so beautifully overwhelming, I shed tears.

After five minutes, she pushed off me and walked right into the water! On her terms. It was hard keeping her out of the water for the rest of vacation (even the pool, after allowing her to enter on her terms). Reflecting that night, I realized the pool experience was really all about me, masked as me giving her an experience. I wanted to force a beautiful moment like what happened on the beach, yet, what happened on the beach unfolded organically. I didn’t know we were going to have that moment, I was just present to receive the gift. Funny, cameras documented everything at the pool and we have none of the beach moment yet that five-minute memory is seared into my soul.

I love RIE, love this community, and love the continued inspiration to grow as a mother.

I appreciate Tabitha allowing me to share this beautiful story, which I feels illustrates the profound connection and joy available to both parents and young children when we can slow down just a little to be present with, and allow for what naturally unfolds, leaving our agenda behind, and trusting our children to be active participants in their own experience, recognizing that they have a point of view too.  If you’d like to learn more, the community Tabitha is referring to can be found here, and the basic premises of RIE can be found here.

On Our Way, With a Little Help From Our Friends (A Christmas Miracle)

Wonder

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As many of you know, I am in the (very long, painfully slow) process of adopting my niece R from the foster care system, and to that end, I  have been required to remain in the state of Florida (where she was born) throughout this past year. On December tenth, R and I received a ruling from the court that I consider to be nothing short of a Christmas miracle. The judge approved my request to return home to Santa Cruz, California, with R, in February of 2014.

One year ago, R was just shy of five months old, and we had been together for just three weeks:

Tomorrow, she will be 17 months old, and we will have been together for a little over a year. She is a RIE baby through and through and has developed all of her gross motor milestones naturally.

I was in the kitchen preparing dinner last week, while she contentedly played in her play area. I turned around to see her sitting at the top of the small, wooden climbing structure that had been sitting in her play space since she was about 6 months old. She had never paid any attention to it before. I grabbed the phone camera, and for the next half hour, I watched and recorded in silent awe, as she proceeded to navigate the climber on her terms:

Those of you who have been following us on our journey through this past year know that it’s been quite a ride. They say it takes a village to raise a child, and for us, that phrase holds special meaning. Through it all, despite being quite isolated and alone here in Florida, I have been privileged to have the support of the most incredible, generous group of friends back home in California, as well as an amazing online community of parents and educators, who are also endeavoring to raise their babies with Magda Gerber’s principles of respect.

It has been an honor to be able to contribute to the RIE/Mindful Parenting Group on Facebook, and it is not an exaggeration to say that the relationships I have formed, and the support I have received in return for my participation, have made it possible for me to survive this past year with all of its many emotional and financial challenges.

We still have some hurdles to face and overcome before the adoption is final, and I will remain under state supervision in California (meaning, having to clear another background check, submitting to another home study, monthly visits from a social worker, and endless piles of paperwork and red tape), but returning home also means that we will have nearby friends and community surrounding us, and I will be able to return to work and teaching parenting classes, as I will have access to childcare that I trust. At this time, I am relying on friends back in Santa Cruz to help with home hunting, and I am busy trying to navigate the logistics of a move across country with an active toddler in tow! (All housing leads appreciated!)

Together

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Whatever happens, R and I will be together, and that, my friends, fills my heart with joy. I want to take this opportunity to thank all of you, from the bottom of my heart, for your caring, your sharing, your generosity, and your ongoing emotional and practical support. Thank you for helping me to bring R home. We couldn’t have made it this far without you. Sending much love and many warm wishes for the happiest of holidays to you and yours, Lisa

 

Home at Last!

 

I am thrilled to announce that R. came home to her family on November 29. 2012. I think she’s as happy to be home as we are to have her here with us.

A quote that sums up some of my feelings about our first week together: “If one feels the need of something grand, something infinite, something that makes one feel aware of God, one need not go far to find it. I think that I see something deeper, more infinite, more eternal than the ocean in the expression of the eyes of a little baby when it wakes in the morning and coos or laughs because it sees the sun shining on its cradle.” Vincent Van Gogh

One Particular Baby

 

“If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?” -Steve Jobs, Stanford commencement address 2005. (My answer is, “Yes, I would!”)

Right now, there are no words that come easily, and I’m no poet, so all I have to offer is unvarnished, straightforward, and honest facts. I’ve struggled with what (if anything) to say on this blog about recent changes in my life, but so many of you have opened your hearts, trusted me, and shared your most tender feelings, questions, and fears, I feel it’s important for me to return the favor.

Three weeks ago, the phone rang. From across the country, my aunt shared news that would turn my world upside down- my brother and my Dad both weathering serious health crises, and my brother and his girlfriend were expecting a baby, due August 7.

Little R. came into this world a bit earlier than expected, on July 22. A new life, precious and vulnerable. Because her parents were unable to assume caring for her, she was placed with a foster family under an emergency order. A week of sleepless nights, and countless phone calls and conversations later, I found myself on a plane to visit both my brother and my Dad, with no clear answers, and only a hope of actually being able to meet R.

Meeting My New Niece For The First Time

 

Miracle of miracles, I was able  to spend three hours with R. over the course of two visits in the week that I was in the state that I once upon a time (a lifetime ago) called my home. My brother and his girlfriend expressed a desire to have me assume R.’s foster care, and although the decision is ultimately up to the courts, I immediately realized that this was a request I could not and would not refuse- however, my husband was just as clear that this was a situation that he could not accept.

There are times in life when none of the choices are easy or ideal, and we are called upon to step up and live into our values and ideals even if it is hard and involves personal sacrifice. In this case, my course of action is clear, given who I am and what I believe in when it comes to babies and families in general, and this particular baby, who is a part of my family, and who is in need. This post, called Faithfulness, by Vanessa Kohlhaas, has been a source of inspiration, comfort, and food for thought in recent days.

“Our faithfulness is continuously tested.  We do not get to be in relationship with others in a vacuum – and why would we want to.  We are challenged in our relationships to change, develop and grow.  And through this work we allow our love to deepen and grow with us.” Vanessa Kohlhaas

I am in the process of doing what I must do to prepare to move to Florida for the time being, to support my family and see them through to the other side of this crisis.There is sadness and loss, but there is also joy, and the promise of new beginnings, as I step into the unknown and say goodbye to the family I have loved and cared for for six years, and the community, friends, and life that I have built here in Santa Cruz, over the past three and a half years. It also means letting go of the wedding celebration Bence and I had been planning, and putting aside plans to grow Regarding Baby in new ways- at least for the time being.

There are more unknowns and unanswered questions than there are sureties right now, but if I’ve learned anything in the (almost) forty nine years I’ve been alive, I’ve learned that change is the only constant in life, and I need to just keep showing up with love, while trusting and following my heart where it leads me, even if it’s not where I planned on going. It’s a bit of a bumpy ride right now, but I am being carried by the outpouring of love and support from friends and family both near and far.

I will continue to write this blog, and I will continue to provide phone consultations, (and who knows?), maybe I will bring RIE parenting classes to South Florida. I’m sure I will have much to share with all of you as I navigate night time feedings and wakings, assuming I’m not too bleary eyed to write at all!

For those of you who have asked how you can help, at this time what I most need is help to find a good home for my beloved kitty Pandera. I’m not able to take her with me, and while that is heartbreaking, my mind will be much more at ease if I can find her a loving home. Pandera is a beautiful, healthy, intelligent, curious, and most of all, gentle soul, who loves nothing better than to curl up on your lap and purr. She is good company, and a talker. She must be an only cat, and she must be an indoor cat, but she does well with dogs and children. She is about four years old, and is a silver tipped Bengal. I’d appreciate any help or leads in finding her a good home. You can comment here, call me (831-296-2229), email me (lisa at regardingbaby dot org), or find me on facebook.

 

 

 

Emptying Our Minds in Order to Be More Present With Babies

This was a good reminder for me. It’s hard to be present and responsive and enjoy what’s right in front of us if our mind is full of thoughts and worries about other things. I wish I knew who to credit for this drawing, but I don’t. I found it on facebook, and tried to trace it to its origins, and while it appears in many places on the web, it’s always without attribution.

If I could draw even simple stick figures, I’d replicate it, but I’d depict an adult and a child walking together. I think small children are naturals when it comes to being fully present and engaged in the moment. This picture also reminds me of the importance and healing quality of spending time in nature, which can help to quiet our minds. I had the opportunity to experiment with quieting my mind and awakening my senses to all that was around me just two weeks ago during a hiking trip into the wilds of Big Sur. Each morning before beginning our hike, our leader would help to set a tone and focus our attention by reading a selected poem, and inviting us to join in a simple ritual of “bowing in”, after which we’d spend the first leg of our hike walking in silence.

 

When I studied with Magda Gerber, she often talked about the importance of the quality of attention adults brought to interactions with children. She stressed the necessity of slowing down, and really focusing, and bringing our full attention to the child.

In her post Magda Gerber’s Gift To Grown Ups, Janet Lansbury writes about two kinds of quality time we can spend with babies and toddlers:

“One of the gifts that I am most grateful for is Magda Gerber’s description of two types of ‘quality time.’ The first kind: “wants something” quality time is when we have a task to do with a baby like diapering, feeding, bathing, or clipping his toenails, and we challenge ourselves to slow down,  ignoring our instinct to zip through it as quickly as possible. We try to focus on the experience, talking the baby through each step, asking for cooperation, sometimes dealing with resistance. It suddenly occurs to us, “What’s the rush? Is there anything more important than this time together right now? Why are these moments with a child any less important than his ‘play time’?” The child looks into our eyes as if to ask us what will happen next, and we realize that we are indeed having an intimate moment together.

The second kind of quality time, “wants nothing,” can encompass a wide range of experiences, but all we are asked to do is pay attention and have no agenda of our own. It can mean being quietly available as a baby explores patterns of light on a blanket beneath him, or standing nearby while he has a screaming meltdown because he cannot have another cookie. It may be trickier to see the benefit for parents and caregivers in this latter scenario, but it is clarity. When we pay full attention to our child for intervals each day, no matter what the tone of our exchange or the outcome is, we are giving him the quality time he needs. We are doing our job.”

Magda taught an exercise that I find helpful to this day in achieving this quiet, present state of mind. She suggested that before entering a parent/infant class, or before beginning a care giving task with babies, adults should take a moment to consciously slow down, and empty the contents of their minds into a basket (real or imaginary). Imagine depositing all of your worries, your lists of things that need to be done, your thoughts about what to make for dinner, into that basket, and saying to yourself, “I am leaving you here now, but I promise I’ll be back to pick you up soon.” It’s such a simple thing to do, but for me, has been very powerful.

Do you have a favorite way to bring yourself more fully into the present moment? Do you notice a difference in the way your baby or toddler responds when you are able to be more slow and focused in your interactions?

A Moment In Time

 

Endless lists of things to do, an avalanche of unanswered e-mail and phone calls, piles of dirty laundry, and a sink full of dirty dishes, not to mention dust bunnies so big I wouldn’t be able to distinguish them from the cat if she wasn’t so loud and insistent on receiving her fair share of attention. (At least the dust bunnies are quiet.) Long days with children and lots of late nights trying to do everything else I want to and need to. And please don’t even mention the shopping, and the decorating, and the baking, and the card writing that I haven’t started to do, with the holidays being – yikes– less than two weeks away. There’s no “me” time in there anywhere. In fact, it doesn’t feel like there is time to take a breath most days. I’ve been feeling tired, irritable, and overwhelmed.(Does this sound familiar to anyone? ) And yet….

 

He leads. I follow.

 

Today there was this: The sun was shining, and the air was crisp. He was on his trike, riding ahead of me. I followed behind on foot, my mind a million miles away. We were on our way to pick his sister up from school. As he pedaled, he exclaimed over the Christmas bulbs some of the neighbors had hung on the  branches of their bushes. He stopped, and pointed to to a large maple tree in a yard across the street, and asked, “Lisa, why doesn’t that tree have any leaves on it anymore?” “Because the leaves fall from the tree in the winter, and grow back again in the spring,” I answered. “Oh! That’s why!” And he was off again. Suddenly he burst into song at the top of his lungs. “It’s A Small World After All.”  Completely immersed in song, in the moment, unaware that his energy, his song, his pure joy in being, had pulled me into the moment with him. I found myself grinning, and I wasn’t the only one.

A Mom who was getting out of her car stopped for a moment, and watched him, and when she caught my eye, I saw she was grinning too. And then a Dad. And another Mom, and a Grandma. We all slowed down, following him like he was the pied piper, sharing smiles with each other, until we got to the “big” crosswalk that leads across the street to the school. The one manned by the kind, but gruff  school crossing guard. We all stopped to wait for the light to turn, while J. continued his song. I saw the guard’s  face soften and I do believe his eyes twinkled. As we crossed the street, someone said “I feel like I’m in a parade,” and when we got to the other side, someone else thanked J. for “singing” us across. It was truly a magical moment in an ordinary day, and I found myself feeling refreshed and renewed.

Once again, it was a small child who reminded me that slowing down, observing, and being present in the moment is not just a gift we can give to the little people in our lives, but one we can give to ourselves too, by following their lead.

“Slow down and enjoy life. It’s not only the scenery you miss by going too fast – you also miss the sense of where you are going and why.” Eddie Cantor

What moments have you enjoyed with your children today?

Little Things

“Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.”
— Antonio Smith

Today was a gorgeous, warm spring day, and J. begged to go out back to play after weeks of being cooped up indoors due to lots of rain. I sat nearby and watched as J. (who is now two years and two months old) played in his water table. I was treated to a view of the world through his eyes, as time seemed to slow down, and I found myself noticing and appreciating the smallest details. J. was completely absorbed in the activity of scooping up a cup of a water, pouring it into a funnel,  and watching the water stream out the other end. He repeated this sequence of events again and again.

At one point, he picked up a golf ball, and dropped it into the top of the funnel, and then looked at the bottom of the funnel expectantly. When the ball didn’t come out the bottom, he looked over at me with a slightly perplexed expression, and shrugged his shoulders.

He then poured another cup of water into the funnel, and grinned when it came out the bottom of the funnel, but dripping instead of flowing, because the ball was partially blocking the flow of the water.

As he was experimenting like this, a plane flew overhead. Planes are of great interest to J., likely because heaeroplane.‘s been on one several times to visit his Nanny, and also because his Nanny is coming to visit him again soon, and we’ve been talking with him about her visit. Usually he yells, “Plane! Nanny?”, and waves when he sees one.

Today J. looked up, pointed to the plane and said “Plane.” I responded, “Yes, I see the plane too!” He nodded, and went back to scooping and pouring water, with the words, “Plane.One.” A few minutes later, another plane flew overhead. J. again excitedly located and pointed to the plane, shouting, “Plane! Two!” I acknowledged, “Yes there is another plane!”

Well, wouldn’t you know, not five minutes later, another plane passed overhead ? J. couldn’t contain his excitement or delight. His whole body seemed to reach to the sky to point out what to him amounted to the eighth wonder of the world. “Plane! Many!” he declared, at full volume. I smiled a big smile. “Can you believe it, three planes in a row?” Yup, planes, many!