It was the day after Christmas, and her home looked like Chuck-E-Cheese. There were games and toys with flashing lights, crumbled popcorn in the carpet, and shreds of wrapping paper strewn about the living...
Learning to listen is not an easy task. I still find it challenging at times, and I can't just blame it on my enneagram type. I'm not talking about powering through Transformers tangent #84 for the day when it's wine o'clock and the kids should be in bed. What I'm talking about is really listening to the things they're saying to you. I'm talking about not asking the question until you're ready to receive the answer.
I'd love to say we found some kind of magical formula that helps him snap out of this, but we haven't. Occasionally we'll find that blowing one strong burst of air into his mouth helps, but it doesn't always. His pediatrician assures us he's totally healthy and will eventually outgrow this terrifying but harmless habit. But in the meantime, I wonder how I will set the same firm limits for him on a day to day basis as I have for my other two children? How do you parent well when you're terrified of your child getting angry?
Picture this: It's Summer. You don't have central A/C. It's 5pm, and you have no idea what to make for dinner. It feels like a thousand degrees in your kitchen. You've been contemplating how feasible...
You put on your bulkiest oven mitt. Armed for a possible alien encounter, you turn the knob to release the pressure. Steam gushes from the top and you cover your head to protect yourself from any possible debris. You then you hear a friendly chiming sound. You twist open the lid, and to your amazement, you have the most beautiful looking pot roast you have ever seen. Julia Child would scratch her head in amazement at the sight of it.
In almost twelve years, we’ve weathered some seasons. Good ones, great ones, and some tough ones, too. We’re still here. He walks in, I can tell he’s tired, but he lifts up his miniature princess and kisses her cheek. Our oldest grabs his leg and he tousles his hair in response, while locking eyes with the baby and smiling. He leans over and kisses me, lightly but lovingly, and falls back into a chair. I still find rooms better when he’s in them.
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