“So it’s pretty obvious that you didn’t try to coach your kids before you came in today.” That’s what the counselor first said, when I walked into her office after she’d met first, with Will, and then with Jenny. I explained that I thought it was better/healthier to not over-talk this appointment. (You probably didn’t know I could not over-talk something.) I had explained to them that they would be very comfortable talking to her. They didn’t need to worry about me or their dad hearing what they said. They could complain about me, too, if they so felt. There were no right or wrong answers. And this was a great way for them to get some stuff off their chests.
Interestingly, the counselor pointed out that a lot of kids, upon entering her office, frantically unload their brains in an effort to spew everything they’ve been coached to say, in hopes of not getting in trouble for forgetting to say everything.
Yikes.
I believe we have to trust, that if we are headed down the right path, then we better not impede the process by trying to force our desired outcome.
Then she showed me their drawings. It was absolutely fascinating to see how she interpreted the sketches. She’s been employing the House/Tree/Person technique for 16 years. I knew my kids would be comfortable with sketching since they draw every day. Continue reading →
A long time ago, I realized I couldn’t really boss my kids around. Oh sure, I could, but I’d be annihilating their spirits in the process. I’m not that kind of mom. There are probably a lot of parents that do a great job being the boss all the time (I doubt it), and it’s good for the three of us to remember that I am the boss. But, there is a lot of truth in being selective about which battles to pick.
Sunday is a great day to pound garlic. I probably pound garlic at least three days a week, but Sunday seems to be all about pounding garlic. I’m not rushing to put dinner on the table; I have the time to create in the kitchen, and I’ve got the time to vent and visualize while I cook.
a dream… Every so often, one of us would lose grip on our side of the table, and the legs would scrape against the sidewalk. The scraping sound seemed to echo in this warm, starlit night. It was close to midnight, and there wasn’t a hint of a breeze. I found myself wishing for a wind that would muffle the sounds of our shuffling and scraping. The three of us were carrying a large picnic table from house to house, sneaking into garages, trying to find a can of paint.
Hola Friends,
Another one for the “If All Else Fails” File. Make cookies and have the girls over. I had to follow the last downer of a post with something happier. Will and I scooped the chocolate chip cookie dough, and Jen scooped teensy tiny cookies for Barbie and Sophie. She baked them off in the toaster oven and invited me and Will to a party. That’s a miniature bowl of frosting next to the plate of cookies.
