Teaching Good Perspective to My 5 Year Old

Yesterday at breakfast it became apparent that my son needed a little help with his perspective after I sliced a banana into his cereal bowl and popped the tiny end that I had been holding into my mouth. Gabe was bummed that I had eaten the teeny piece, which for me was just an automatic action. I apologized and pretty quickly seized the teachable moment by moving on to helping him view the situation with good perspective. Behold, below is the sketch I drew while we conversed. This was also a good reminder for myself as I am in a season of overhauling my perspective, being disciplined in my thoughts and living in the present moment.

Love as a Verb

"Love is the commitment of
my will to your needs
and best interests,
regardless of the cost."

From a book I'm reading called Grace Based Parenting. 
Great way to put it. So hard and important to live out.

Meaningful Design

Fantastic Ideas Promoting Health in the Lunch Line. See here.

5 + 3

On occasion the reality hits me that I have a five and three (almost four) year old. Man, where has it gone? I can recall countless nights of interrupted sleep, thousands of diaper changes, meals made, dishes cleaned, all of the duties of a mom or caregiver. Every now and again I realize that I've forgotten about many of the stages from baby to toddler to preschooler. Instead of remembering the daily tasks, the thoughts I want to remember and dwell on most are the times of enjoying each other and playing with my boys – the on-the-knees times, wearing out the jeans times– with a single focus uninterrupted by thoughts of needing to do something or be somewhere else, the days of having nothing to do except be with each other and explore a world so new and exciting to them, the teachable moments that come only from immersing and engaging oneself in the throws that come with loving a young child, often trying and testing and more patience building than imaginable.

As much as I'd prefer times of relaxed play, the house still needs to be cared for (especially after two moves last year), laundry and dishes cleaned and on. There is typically a constant tug-o-war going on in my heart over what to do first.

My Grandma always had a clean house. I lived with her for two years. Dishes were never left in the sink, pots and pans were always shined, sheets were ironed, laundry precisely hung. I distinctly remember a phone conversation she and I had years later when Gabe and Will were babies. She told me to forget the dishes and just get on the ground and play with them. She said the dishes and house can wait. These conversations were refreshing to me (at first I had to ask myself if she really had just said what she did) and since she passed away a few years ago, her words are even more refreshing in a deeper way now. They have gained importance and a deeper meaning over the years, especially during the times when my house is messy and I feel like a failure for not having it all together, whatever that means.

I think of her nearly every day (ironically as of this last fall I live just four blocks from her old little bungalow house). Many of the household chores / methods she taught me make more sense now than then, and mostly – and thankfully – her words ring in my ears about enjoying the present reality of playing with my boys. Not great for my house, but so good for my soul, especially when I realize that raising my two little guys really and truly is going so fast.

Parenting: Brilliant Time Out Discovery

Ah! I just had a great discovery about time outs: If I designate my sons' time out location in the kitchen near the sink, I can do the dishes while the offender is in time out. This is great for two reason: (1) I keep myself distracted from them and the frustrating situation, and (2) do something productive with my energy and desire to control the situation... instead of trying to control them. Perhaps once the dishes are finished, I'll move the time out stool next to the pile of clothes that need to be folded.

Gabe's Prayer

11.21.10 // 6:45 AM

Jon is off at work, and the boys and I have had a great time hanging out in the kitchen this morning: Will on the counter eating a breakfast snack and Gabe standing on the stool up against the counter making brown rice and sunbutter cracker sandwiches.

It was a peaceful time of me having a few minutes to get the dishes done while staying engaged with the boys.

Gabe was finished and cleaning up then went to the bathroom to wash his hands before wanting to work on his Lego plane. He came back to the kitchen after washing his hands and told me that before he washed his hands he was "just praying to God." He folded his hands as he talked about praying.

I was intrigued by this as only a few times before has he mentioned praying on his own, independent of nudging or routine. I asked him what he prayed about and he said he had already sent his message up to God and that it was gone now. Ah, this kid is amazing.

I was really curious what he was praying about so I asked again using different words about what he said in his message and after a couple of tries, this was his prayer:

"Thank you God, that Ninevah is not a bad city any more."

The reason I love this prayer is because it shows Gabe's heart and the thoughts consuming his precious mind. We haven't read stories from the Bible in a few days and clearly the stories have run through Gabe's head several times since. Gabe's concern over Ninevah and the choices the people there were making shows that he wants people to make good choices and that he has a desire for others to experience God's grace when bad choices are made. He wants good and he wants love to prevail. This simple prayer gives me a sense that there is a seed in Gabe to become a global citizen in caring for other people and cities. Gabe has had previous conversations with us about how everyone needs to be loved and how he has a lot of work to do to tell everyone in the whole world that they are loved. I am curious to see where life takes this little guy and where he takes life.

Of course, I am his mom, and it is possible that I'm reading a little too much into this situation. But I also believe that a mom knows her child's heart and is able to see into it with a keen awareness – for the harsh or exciting reality – more so than an average observer.

Tuckered out

Will was already asleep tonight across the room, and I was tucking Gabe in. We were nearly finished, and I asked him if he had any roses or thorns (a little game we play) to share about our day. (In all honesty, I was stalling because I just wanted to enjoy the moment of peace after our earlier moments of unmanageable behavior while brushing teeth). Gabe responded with his eyes half closed: We can't talk about that right now. We can talk about that tomorrow. Good night, with a fluctuation in his voice while pronouncing an extra syllable in the word night that suggested I leave him alone because he just wanted to go to sleep. It made me laugh inside as my mind perceived the interaction as a hint for what might lie ahead in the adolescent years. One more sweet kiss and I left the room with two sleeping boys.