I'd Focus on My Breath if Only I Could Catch It...: The Yin and the Yang

What goes up must come down. You must have darkness to have light. If there is nothing bad, you can't appreciate the good. Whoever started these universal realities was most likely raising an almost three-year-old.

A few days ago, I found myself careening toward being the kind of parent I don't want to be, having the kind of kid I don't want to be responsible for co-creating. Nothing was working. I was a bitch. Frankly, so was she. She was whiny as hell, and oh my GOD I thought it would kill me. If there is anything worse than a cranky toddler with unmet needs, it's that same toddler attempting to communicate her needs through a series of guttural sounds that in no way resemble language. Add to that my hormones, and it's a recipe for disaster. While running away from you, wriggling out of your grasp in a busy parking lot, or perhaps even lifting up your skirt so the whole neighborhood can see what you're workin' with, as you attempt to pick her up in the throes of a tantrum.

I found myself saying to her at one point, thankful she would never catch the reference, "the power of Christ compels you!"

This video saved my ass. I laughed so hard my diaphragm hurt. Tears rolled down my cheeks. And I knew I wasn't alone. Forget the articles, the parenting books or - God forbid - the advice from your mother. What you need is another irreverent, blunt and borderline inappropriate parent who is in the trenches with you.

After releasing copious amounts of cortisol through my laughter tears, I slept on it. She woke me in the morning with her crazy-ass curly hair, bright blue eyes and rosy cheeks. The sun streamed into our bedroom, and I knew I only had to push the 'on' button on the coffee maker to start the day right. I am such a fan of new days, and after a bad day, I always try to start the day following with a flood of positive thoughts. Usually, it works. I also started the next day (yesterday), by re-committing to mindfulness, attunement and presence with my girl.

I asked her if she was nervous about starting preschool. Her emphatic "yes" told me that THAT was what was wrong the last two days. When I commented on what a good day we were having yesterday, she said "yeah, I'm not sick anymore." Well duh. I'm a total shit when I'm sick. Should I expect more of a three-year-old? Sigh. Live and learn.

Yesterday and today were seriously parenting bliss. We were in sync, there was a rhythm to our days that I knew intuitively was meeting her needs. (It was interesting to note how they were different from other days - with one exception, we didn't go anywhere we couldn't walk to, we didn't have anywhere to be by any particular time, and I said 'yes' as much as I could, on purpose.) And I could never appreciate them without a few days of parenting hell (which will no doubt re-present themselves at some point - it's life).

I experience this very same thing with my students throughout the school year. Parenting and teaching, toddlers and teenagers (and dogs, but that always comes across as insulting) are SO. MUCH. THE SAME. I think my big takeaway is that I am the adult, and it really does start with me. Her brain isn't fully developed. (And their hormones - fuck it. They're crazy.) I am a grown up. It's up to me to set the stage and hold (sane) space for my little person (and those big little people) as she (they) navigate(s) the turbulent waters of growing up. I'll screw up, and she'll (they'll) piss me off, but hopefully less than without this understanding. I'd love to claim this understanding as my own, but I can't. More on that wisdom here.

Anyways. Here's some proof of the good times. I'd include proof of the shitty times in the name of balance, but no one takes pictures of their child's meltdowns.

Picking blackberries