The post holiday mellow was strong. My sons played with cousins and grandparents while my sister, brother-in-law, and I did some tidying.
I did find time to take Amy McCready’s Parent Personality Assessment. After reading a few chapters of her book and watching my own behavior, I had guessed that I would turn out to be a controlling parent type with superiority tendencies. I have always questioned my habits and the way I go about my activities in an effort to find better ways to live every day. I’ve taken on this role for my children as well, always suggesting better ways to do things and criticizing their mistakes. I thought I was helping them improve, but now I see how obnoxious it is. Self-improvement is just that, it almost never comes from an external source. Certainly not a bossy, always right, external source capable of imposing consequences for all types of mistakes.
I’ve got a long road to hike on this one. Being a home educator, I take on too much responsibility for their growth as human beings. I forget that I’m there to facilitate learning, not teach every tiny lesson over and over.
I gave myself ten days to be prepared to host my family for Thanksgiving. In the 24 hours before dinner, my sister and her husband were there with their sons to help with setup and entertain my boys. They were a Godsend and made the pre-celebration celebratory in its own right. As all of my guests showed up within a five-minute window, I went through my mental checklist and felt good about the work we had accomplished.
My sons are troupers when the stakes are high and today was no different. Playing with cousins and neighbors during the day and helping organize, and even create, desserts. We sat down after appetizers and my seven-year-old lead a simple grace. He was uncharacteristically nervous at the biggest table we had ever hosted. Before “digging in,” I was able to say a few words of thanks for having my family in my home, for having my sister’s family to help, and for all of the ways that this gathering would not have been possible without Mary. We still receive and re-receive gifts from her remarkable life, from a treasure of recipes tried and untried to a thousand lessons on how to host a party.
Unfortunately, I was not able to hold onto the thankfulness through the day. As more and more things fell into place and went smoothly, future tasks crept into my mind and I slipped away from being present in the moment. I resisted sneaking off to write the soccer emails that needed to go out; but my mind was there, wondering if I had already waited too long. I put the device away, but wondered who had responded to my morning messages. My thoughts were on the weekend, next week, my soccer future, my future relationships, and a hundred other unknowable things.
Typing this out in an exhausted state of mind helps bring me back. The sound of the tapping on the tablet is here and now. Another night brings another chance to close my eyes, sleep, and reset. Tomorrow can wait until tomorrow.
Pork and kraut. Green lentil vegetable soup. Roasted beet salad.
This Thanksgiving has already brought a series of surprises. Nine days ago I’m not sure whether I volunteered or was volunteered to host Thanksgiving. Either way, I’m excited to have my family for a big, grateful dinner in the house my late wife helped to make a welcoming home.
In an effort to clear the freezer before the onslaught of leftovers, I’ve been searching out every frozen item to heat up for recent dinners. The last one came out last night and my sons and I had pork and kraut, leftover from a good luck meal on New Year’s Day. Mary had prepared that meal and it struck us while eating that it was one more piece of her that would be gone before bedtime. It was hard. We all cried. We filled our bellies and went to bed without much discussion.
I was up early this morning to prepare for pre-Thanksgiving guests and plans to make a green lentil vegetable soup from Mary’s little pile of favorite recipes. I stumbled through and thought it strange that I didn’t remember ever having this dish. As I prepped the stock and tried to keep the printed recipe dry I noticed the date at the top. Mary had found this recipe only a week before getting sick. She’d be gone less than three weeks later. A smile came to my face. Not 12 hours after the last meal she left us, she left me something to make for friends and family on a chilly November day. She prepared me for these moments, prepared me to try new things and welcome new people to our table. The soup was a hit and, in true Mary fashion, it took me a while to stop running around and join my guests at the table.
Tomorrow comes Thanksgiving and the third unexpected food challenge from Mary: her Famous Roasted Beet Salad. I don’t have many food duties, but I’ve taken on the responsibility of one of my favorite salads of all time. It won’t be hers, it will be mine. As will the sole role of host.
Strengthened by hardships and envigorated by successes, I’m calm and resolved to make this Thanksgiving thoroughly special.
Nearing total exhaustion. Familial pressures, homeschool programs, a friend in need, hours of driving, difficulty focusing on my parenting goals, Thanksgiving grocery shopping, outpouring of grief about mom, some of my own outpouring, and self pressure to create something positive out of all of it. Quite a day.
It’s the kind of day you try to end as peacefully as possible, without doing any more harm. Dinner was rough, but bedtime is quiet and I’m able to sit here and claw out a couple lines. I can’t make sense of today now, but I’m looking forward to the rejuvenation that comes with exhausted sleep.
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Started the day out listening to Amy McCready about her Calm Voice tool. I’ve tried this before with limited success, but look forward to posting some reminders in frequent trouble spots like the bathrooms and bedrooms.
It was so nice out that I decided to take my energy outside to prep firewood and the yard in case Thanksgiving Day’s weather is just as nice. That entailed a full morning of yard work, stocking wood, and very loud music in my ears.
As Thanksgiving is only a couple days away, I spent the afternoon figuring out how to fit 14 people for dinner. There is still a lot to do, but I’m feeling like it was worthwhile to take on the challenge of hosting T-Day for the first time.
I rounded out the day with a tough soccer match where we came away with a tie against a strong team and the division title. I think I’ll sleep well tonight.
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My sons called me from Grandma’s! Just to chat and check in on me. Their mom used to do that regularly, but I can’t recall them ever taking the initiative. It was a happy little sign as I found the dining room table leaf I cut last year, measured for more makeshift table extension, and consolidated and tucked away the Halloween gear.
Today was more about my 10-Day Thanksgiving Host Challenge than practicing positive parenting, but I did listen to a some podcast episodes and tried a new audio book. I do not recommend the audio version of Charlotte Kasl’s If the Buddha Had Kids. I’m reading another of her books and enjoy her writing style, but the audio on this one is robotic and very difficult to follow.
I listened to Elizabeth Kay Dyer‘s podcast episode about how she became a widow on a homeschool journey; Debbie Reber’s Tilt Parenting podcast episode with Jeremy Schneider, author of Fatherhood in 40-Minute Snapshots; and took breaks from the positive parenting grind with Tom Woods, Office Hours with TK Coleman and Isaac Morehouse, and a great new band called Iggy T and the Crazymakers. And just by sending a shout out to the band, I was able to connect with the lead singer and find an important video to share about grief and pain:
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On Day Five of my 30-Day Positive Parenting challenge I listened to Amy McCready discuss the setbacks that can occur while shifting to a more positive approach to parenting. Unfortunately, the first setback occurred on Day Four. Fatigue, intensity of strengthened emotional connections, first-snow fever, whatever it was, the blow ups came raging back for a few hours and, although each one blew over more quickly, it was an exhausting day.
I had gotten so excited about the strategies I was learning that I didn’t take time to relax and be mindful of why I was on this journey to be a better dad.
I’m still devoted to the challenge, but I’m prepared to pull back on the throttle. I’ve got a couple quiet days without my sons to give us all a little space and catch up on that 10-Day Thanksgiving Challenge!
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In my search for positive parenting resources I couldn’t resist listening to this minimalist approach to managing Lego from Dr. Denaye Barahona. To be sure, we are not minimalists when it comes to Lego. Our biggest projects bring us together and can demand a lot of bricks. However, I felt Dr. Barahona went too far in reducing modern Lego to being a “closed” toy too focused on licensed characters and predetermined builds.
You can hear her podcast episode here:
Our 2017 entry for the Kalmar Nyckel Lego Shipbuilding Contest
Only a few years ago I held a similar nostalgia for when Lego had a much smaller variety of elements and imagination was the key ingredient. I looked at a Lego banana and said, “What else could this be but a banana? How can this foster creativity?” It didn’t take long for me to see that banana put to use as a horn, smile, weapon (as all elements eventually find themselves in the hands of boys), mustache, lever, nose, tongue, or any number of curved objects.
The Friendliest Minotaur
My sons started playing with Lego at our local libraries. Big, unsorted piles and no instructions. They applied their imaginations with ease and learned to break down their builds after a couple hours. These habits served them well as loving family began to shower us with official sets during birthdays, Christmas, and all types of occasions.
I was wary of the licensed sets with built-in stories and characters. Again, it didn’t take long for my sons to twist, expand, and mash-up the characters and stories. My elder son became masterful at using our wide variety of minifigure parts to create his own heroes and villains or copy them from books and movies. He also recreates his favorite scenes while his younger brother builds endless assortments of wacky beasts and insane vehicles.
Sets rarely stay together for long. Sometimes following the instructions is just to check off a line item and the model is immediately disassembled to access new elements.
The 2018 SS Mary Zerbey Memorial Seasteader, built in honor of the wife and mother we lost weeks earlier.My son’s free build copy of the Haida Spirit Boat in the Copeland Maritime Center’s Watercraft of the World gallery.
Sorting starts at the model level. The larger the set, the more need there is to categorize the elements and place them roughly into piles. Sorting of larger collections does take parental guidance, but it is worth it when they can access the full breadth of the inventory to fuel their imaginations.
Our UnikittiesA collaborative train project by almost a dozen homeschoolers.
Dr. Barahona claims Lego has become a “closed” toy, to be built and displayed. I assert that this only occurs without a little creative encouragement.
However, I would concede that this is not a pursuit for the minimalist.
The question at 6:00 am: What to build?
God bless, Jason
p.s. – For his “Mind Body Soul Time” today my elder once again chose Lego building.
That was the response after my sons thoroughly enjoyed the one-on-one time I dedicated to each of them during the day, as suggested by Amy McCready. One chose 15 minutes of tinkering with old electronics in the morning and the other chose Lego building.
In the evening, my elder requested I read aloud some of his latest book club book, In the Footsteps of Crazy Horse, and my younger had me help him with a “poop” heavy ad lib story.
I could see that not only did each appreciate the focused interaction, but also respected when it was the other’s turn.
We’re working on alternative names for our particular sessions as “Mind Body Spirit Time” is “too hippy” for them. So far, I’ve had to veto “Poopy Time,” but I think we’re heading in the right direction.
As resources pour in from so many wonderful people, my sons and I came up with our own rule: Instant Hugs. As soon as tension rises, a voice raises, or someone feels he’s been mistreated, BOOM, hug. No cure-all, but has definitely cut down on several escalations already.
