Q&A My Perspective: Why Don’t You Listen To Me?

QUESTION

I have three daughters, 13, 16 and 18 and the oldest two have strikingly different but very strong personalities. Throughout their childhoods they have fought and they have grown older the words hurt and wound more profoundly. I have always had a keen interest in the subject of emotional intelligence and have regularly explained to both daughters the importance of explaining calmly what is upsetting them, rather than resorting to being nasty and bitchy.  I explain that becoming unpleasant means they lose any power they may have had if they had remained calm, forthright and clear.
So in essence they have been parented well and attentively and yet they seem unable to put my advice into practice! Is it normal for their age, this inability to communicate their needs effectively, despite my regular discussions on the subject?

MY PERSPECTIVE

First off, let’s define “normal.”  If we are looking at “normal” as being a common occurrence, then YES, it is perfectly “normal” for children to seemingly completely ignore everything that is coming out of a well intentioned lesson by us, the parents and others.

But let’s get down to basic human behavior.  When we are hurt or threatened, our typical reaction is to defend ourselves from our perceived aggressor.  In all stages of development, the typical response to pain and discomfort is to find a way to stop it.  Depending on our personality and what behaviors we have deemed “work for us” this can be a different response in everyone.

Typically,  when someone with an introverted personality feels attacked or threatened, they may withdraw and try to become invisible, hoping that their aggressor won’t see them or notice them if they don’t say a word. They protect themselves with silence, and often quietly let their insecurities brew.

Someone with an extroverted personality who feels attacked is more likely to strike back against their aggressor to make the pain stop and defend themselves.  They may do this by attempting to make the other person feel just as bad, if not worse, than themselves.  Their goal is to create injury to keep the aggressor away.

Of course, there are always exceptions and combination personality types, but the fight or flight reaction is generally the same.  The introverted personality may let their frustrations brew to a point where they have reached their limit and unleash on their aggressor when their normal reactions aren’t getting anywhere.  Just like the extroverted personality can change their tactics and withdraw.

Our children’s automatic reaction is to respond in some fashion to stop the aggressiveness and threat. In your experience with your children, their reactions aren’t pleasant or effective, but in their mind, their responses are working to their advantage.  Until they see and learn the alternative methods themselves, it will be hard for them to acknowledge otherwise.

But here’s the best part.  They ARE listening.  They do hear what you have to say and most likely it makes sense to them and they respect it because, it’s true.  However, they are in a developmental stage of life where they have better luck trying on ideas and behaviors for themselves to truly learn and “get it.”  This is incredibly hard for parents to accept because we just want to protect our child and intervene when we see the pain in their lives.  Of course! But in reality, they have to try on the behavior to truly understand the pros and cons of each, and they have to do it on their terms.

However, once they start to experience the truth of your advice and knowledge, they will begin to acknowledge that it does work and that you are very, very wise. (don’t be surprised if they choose not to tell you or allow you to relish in the satisfaction of your own greatness).

Just the other day, I had a 17 year old boy, who knows my counseling style very well, tell me how he was feeling about a situation he didn’t feel in control of.  Before I could offer a suggestion or analysis, he interjected, “I know exactly what you’re going to say and I know you’re right, but I don’t want to hear that right now. I just want to be angry.” And there it is.

So keep talking to them about it, keep modeling the behaviors that work well and keep the faith that they will get it.  If you can hold on to that, you have nothing to lose….except sleep, hair and possibly a few years off your life.  😉

Nostalgia

Nostalgia. I don’t know if its hormonal or just something that happens when a small human being comes into your life and touches your heart in spots that quite possibly could have been black before (maybe its just me). But something bizarre happened when my kids came into my life. I became extra, super, cry reading cards in the store, cry when watching Oprah on the treadmill at the gym, cry when driving by the elementary school at the thought of my babies eventually leaving me to go there, sappy. When I say super sappy, I mean it. My daughter’s in the 3rd grade and I still am fighting back tears at the Open House when walking around her classroom at the thought of her growing up. Or the Holiday Concert when she’s exuberantly singing in the crowd of her peers. I have constant flashbacks of when she was a baby and I was always questioning what her personality would be like. She is still a young girl, but who she is the old soul type…very old.

So when I was in the middle of excitedly transferring their playroom toys from our “dining room” to our finished basement, something I’d been wanting to do for about a year, I was floored to find myself sitting in the middle of their playroom sapping it up and flooded with memories of all that we’d experienced in that room. From my daughter’s first crawl, to my son’s play dough laden carpet stains, memories fill this room of their countless games, messy play dates and hours upon hours of free play. And although I was ecstatic to move their playroom and transform this one room to an actual grown up room, I was actually second guessing myself based on nostalgia alone. “They will be so far away from me downstairs,” I thought. “I won’t know what they are doing.” Ummm…I was now naming the exact reasons I wanted to move them to begin with!

I realize those who say “hold on to these moments, they don’t last long,” are well meaning. They know firsthand how quickly it goes and how we’ll long for moments of youth when the children are grown or simply don’t want to snuggle any more. Yet, when you’re in the middle of a chaotic week with homework papers you keep forgetting to sign, dinner that has yet to be made and laundry piles that scream “have you really not noticed they’ve been wearing the same underwear for three days, stop and wash me!” its hard to want to hold on to these moments.

Yet in reality, it’s the same moments I want to ignore as the ones I want to keep. I want to remember the times we’ve been angry with each other and just how we made up, so we can revisit our tactics for the inevitable next time. I want to remember how when my daughter was sad, the exact way I hugged her to remind us both that situations get better and she is always safe. I want to remember when my son is scared, the words that convinced him to brave it out or the internal drive he discovered to face the fear on his own.

I also want to hold on to the moments when my daughter reads to my son and he gazes at her with loving adoration. I want to hold on to the times when we spontaneously dance in the kitchen and laugh at our not so smooth moves. I want to hold on to the memory of holding my babies and promising them that I would love them more than anything or anyone could ever possibly love them.

When I am at my limit and start to question my priorities, I try to remind myself that they are only young once and I don’t get this time back. I get to choose the outcome of the moments I am blessed with and they get to live with my decisions. Sometimes that reminder works to their advantage, other times, not so much. Tis the joy of being human…

It is nostalgia that keeps me snuggling with them a little longer when I’m ready to have my own time at night. When I am feeling depleted, its their barrage of “I love you’s” which makes me feel whole again. They drive me nuts and they fill my world, oddly all at the same time.

We are now happily enjoying the “new” dining room and creating new memories of joy in the same space. Family dinners seem like more of an event in our renewed space and we’ve all had to adapt to our fancy grown up room. Except for the gross burping contest last week…but I had to prove to them just how talented I really am! New moments, new memories, same desire to hold on for as long as I can.

The Smelly Kid

“Did you brush your teeth?”
They hear me ask,

Knowing full well,

They’ve avoided this task.

“You need to take a shower,”

They hear me say,

The grunting gets louder,

Which always leads to delay.

“Are you hoping to catch a rodent,

With those unkept claws?”

As I question if their fingernails,

Are too long for their paws.

They whine and complain.

How dare we want them kept clean?

Enforcing good habits,

And normal hygiene?

Do they want to be dirty?

Does water repulse them?

Avoiding the faucet as if

Cleanliness creates mayhem.

Is it too much to ask,

That they are not the smelly kid?

To appreciate soap

And not become livid,

When asked to keep clean,

And manage one’s own sanitation,

A fair request indeed,

To ensure their own liberation.

Oh little dirty ones,

We will not go away,

The reminders will be ongoing,

And our insistence here to stay.

“You Get What You Get and You Don’t Get Upset”

My kids have been saying this A LOT lately, which reminded me how much I like this catchy phrase. In case you didn’t get to read it the first time, or even if you did, I hope you enjoy.

“You get what you get and you don’t get upset.”

I don’t actually know where this originated from, but for my children, it was their Auntie Tara, my best friend, who coined the phrase which became our mantra last summer, for the grandiose act of selecting a popsicle. If you pulled out a green, you get a green. If you pull out a red, you get a red. That’s just the way it is. You’re lucky you’re getting a popsicle.

And then it moved onto snack choices or the type of juice that came in the coveted drink box. My children would chant this phrase often to each other when one of them would snub an option that seemed lesser than what they were willing to accept. They were teaching each other the power of acceptance in times of disappointment, an invaluable lesson in the realities of life. You do get what you get and you don’t get upset. Actually, you can and often do get upset, but it’s not going to get you anywhere, another irritatingly valuable lesson.

With childrearing, this lesson is the same, yet can be quite challenging to accept. We begin with expectations for the pregnancy, what the symptoms are and sensations and then compare with everyone we know who is or has been pregnant. After birth, we watch for their steady progression in development and inadvertently start comparing each of their stages to every child we encounter and every chart our pediatrician has. If and when the next child comes, we are constantly comparing their development to the first and how one is so different than the other and how miraculous it is that they share the same genes. We are constantly comparing and contrasting our children to every child and “norm” around them, trying to feel out what characteristics, types of intelligences, and skills we want for them versus what we don’t want. At some point, we either acknowledge that they are who they are and we are okay with that or that they are not what we expected nor how we want them to be and we are hell bent on re-sculpting them. After all we did make them and we should be able to reshape them into our own works of art. If only the stork knew to deliver us clay instead of talking, thinking beings, we’d be all set.

In my professional experience as a counselor, the most frustration I hear from parents occurs when their children are not meeting the expectations they have for them. In my personal experience, the most frustration I feel occurs when my children are not meeting the expectations I have for them. Coincidence?

Let’s face it, when we don’t get what we want and expect, it’s annoying. If you were holding out for the red popsicle, but orange was the only color left, you’d be disappointed, but you really wanted a popsicle, so you take it. It’s still refreshing and gives you the gratification you were looking for, it’s just a different flavor than you originally requested.

When you opted to have a child, you asked for the star running back for the football team, you ended up with the president of the drama club, both with great leadership potential, but different. What makes one better than the other? How we choose to view it.

Maybe you asked for the salutatorian, because really the valedictorian has way too much pressure, so you lowered your expectations just for your child, after all you don’t want to ask too much. And then you ended up with the child who thought community college was a better match for them to strive for and they wanted to save you $120,000 in college tuition. Your child doesn’t want to ask for too much either.

I asked for a respectable member of the community who uses good manners and has excellent social skills. I ended up with a child who runs through the grocery store like a wild beast and touches every item on the shelves 35 seconds after promising he would choose good behaviors. But when he asks if he can have a treat for being such a good boy, he always says “please.”

I believe it can be advantageous to ask where our expectations come from. Are they social norms and standards we are striving for them to meet? Or are they dreams and goals we created for them that they don’t seem to share? Either way, they are still ours and not theirs. That doesn’t mean we should change them, it just means we can acknowledge where they came from and assess their merit and the level of effort needed to teach them if they are indeed worth it.

If you wanted your child to play soccer because you were a soccer player, but your child would rather sit on the side lines and draw, fine. Let them try soccer for a couple of seasons (sometimes they don’t realize what a great sport it is until 3 years later), and let all your relatives know that drawing pads and colored pencils are the greatest gift they could give. And when your child “accidentally” pops their soccer ball with a kitchen knife and they just can’t go to practice without it, call it a day and consider letting it go. You both gave it a shot. Feed your expectation, but don’t starve your child when they don’t want to pick out the same item on the menu that you want.

Speaking of food, I am super conscientious about what I buy and serve my children, but I must admit, my kids turned me on to popsicles last summer…even sometimes the ones with high fructose corn syrup…shhhh. Because of their insistence, I truly do not care which flavor I get. I do still have my preferences, but I am learning to adapt to all flavors and brands. And I am slowly discovering, that no matter what, popsicles are great and I’m lucky to get one at all.

Old School or New Age?

Am I Old School or New Age?

I think about this a lot.  I am aware of my reputation among some friends to be a holistic or “spiritual,” thinker which I think is New Age or could also be Old School traditionalist, depending on your definition.

I believe in eating whole foods with the least amount of preservatives.  I made my children’s baby food at home, all organic, and some pretty odd concoctions that I couldn’t even stomach, just because they would eat it.  Tofu as finger food…gross. Am I Old School for wanting to eat homemade foods without preservatives or New Age with eating healthy whole foods without preservatives?

I don’t and haven’t eaten red meat since I was in the 7th grade. For my love of animals? No, because I was in love with the actor, River Pheonix and wanted to be prepared for when we met and I would be his perfect mate.  He later died of a heroin overdose.  Old school childhood obsession/rebellion or New Age vegetarianism of not eating mammals?

So far, I only allow my children to participate in one extracurricular activity per season.  I want them to play with their friends, outside/inside/upside down.  I want them to follow what they enjoy for an activity, but to do what they enjoy everyday without a goal or extra pressure.  I want them to play, build, run, create, and use their imaginations.  Is this an Old School “just go outside and play” vision, or New Age, “let them be who they are” belief?

I don’t do for my children what they can do for themselves.  They fold their laundry, put it away, and make their own lunches and snacks at times. They pick out their own clothes (but tend to need a lot of fashion tips), bathe themselves and do their own homework.  I want them to Depend on me to teach them Independence. I am here to support them and love them and show them exactly how responsible they can be. Is this an Old School non enabler belief or New Age self advocacy belief?

The belief to care for our children in the way that we deem fit doesn’t have to mold into a category to make it acceptable, but so often, we tend to group ideas and philosophies in order to make them “normal.”  Sometimes it feels like parenting could be one of those taboo topics at dinner parties that shouldn’t be spoken of…along with religion, politics and favorite sports teams.  Always at risk to draw judgment and controversy!

I don’t recall ever being questioned about my choices or judged by my actions to the same degree as when I made the choice to have children.  Once we walk into the arena where others have played, the advice and comments and questions on what and how we are doing things suddenly become so important to everyone, including us.  Not only do we feel judged by others, we are often judging ourselves, especially in the beginning, because it’s new territory and each child is so different.  It can be hard to sift through what we are offered with good intent versus criticism to determine which suggestions we’d like to examine. But until we try them for ourselves, we don’t know what will work or if it will work.

Many of my beliefs and ideas on childrearing have changed dramatically since my children came into my life.  What I swore I’d never do makes perfect sense to me now when I do it.  I know I am judged by the decisions I make for myself and my children; sometimes through others’ insecurities and sometimes by genuine concern.  It is up to us, the parents, to either let go of the judgment or embrace the underlying message.

I was a co-sleeping parent who could still hang with those who wouldn’t consider sleeping in the same room with their kids.  It worked for us. I was a breast feeding mama who hung out with formula fed kids.  I gave my babies pacifiers in the hospital within the first days of their life, something some of my closest friends wouldn’t have dreamed of.  I let my kids eat hot dogs outside our home, despite the internal and mental pain it creates in me…so much more gross than tofu. But, we try on what fits and when it works, we feel and look good!

At the end of the day, no matter which style you choose or which category you fall into, isn’t our goal all the same? To love our children, respect ourselves and do the best we can without a foolproof instruction manual.  We’re all in this together, right?  Or as my son would say “Tomaeto/Tomato” (phonically speaking).  Our love and dedication for our children is the same whether we make them eat dinner at the table or let them eat in front of the TV. We want the same thing for our kids.  To be healthy, responsible, respectful, the friend others want to have and to be happy and proud of who they are and what they do.

So am I Old School or New Age? You can be the judge, it doesn’t matter.  In the end, its all the same.

Laundry Stinks

Back by popular demand…okay, no one demanded them, poems are just fun.

Laundry, laundry, not my friend,
Laundry, laundry, never ends.

Stinky socks invade my dreams,
Spider Man boxers frayed at the seams.

I wash you often, but stains still show,
Why is it you dislike me so?

I give you expensive fabric softener and detergent galore,
But still you seem to just want more.

Wash then Dry, then Fold, then Press,
Okay, I lied, you are a wrinkled mess.

But still I have been tried and true,
What on Earth do I need to do?

Please go away, I can not deal,
With this mountainous mess I can not conceal.

Laundry, laundry, not my friend,
Laundry, laundry, never ends.

Great Expectations

Growing up,  I was a child who always wanted to know what was going to happen next. I was intrigued by the occult, playing the ouija board with friends, reading my horoscope often and doing séances, or what we deemed as séances, trying to get an answer to what the future would hold.  I frequently played the game MASH with my friends to speculate where I’d end up in life. Mansion, Apartment, Shack or House? What will it be? Who would be my prince charming? Clearly, one of the cute boys in the 5th grade. What will I drive? Lamborghini or Porsche or maybe a Jeep? And how many kids? So many unknowns answered. And of course when your friend told you to stop drawing lines, it was all intuition based, so it MUST be right.   Like all my friends, I always wanted the big house, the big yard, the nice car, the good looking guy, and some kids to share my fortune with, and probably a white picket fence while I was at it.  That was the American dream after all, right?

My first post college apartment was not quite what I envisioned when planning my future as a child.  3,000 miles away from home, cardboard box nightstands, a used coffee table that smelled like the gasoline in someone’s garage every time we moved it and a stiff futon we thought would make a decent bed. Yet, we had a tiny little deck that hosted the perfect view of the spectacular Cascade Mountains we lived next to. No furnishing required. My boyfriend (now husband) was in the military, I worked two part time jobs, we had no friends to speak of and spent all of our free time together, mostly playing Yahtzee for household chores, but still together.  I remember making my bed once, with a beautiful discount comforter cover I had saved up for, thinking, this is it, this is the life I was waiting for.  Life was hard with many stressful moments, but it was good.  Apartment, good looking Guy, Nissan NX 1600 with t-tops, no Kids.

My first house was also not at all what I envisioned it would be when I was a young adult planning my future.  I’m not sure where I thought all my financial wealth was going to come from, but it wasn’t from the job I chose.  A simple cape style home, with a one car garage on an acre lot in a quaint neighborhood.  When we moved in, we knew we couldn’t stay forever because we only had two usable bedrooms and we had planned to have more than one child.  Yet, I remember how excited I was once we’d made the house our own and commenting to a friend how I was so perfectly content with my new home, my beautiful baby and husband. I had finally had the life I wanted.  House, good looking Husband, Nissan Pathfinder, 1 Kid.

It’s been 8 and a half years we’ve lived in our starter house.  Life’s been filled with continuous change since we’ve been here.  Every room in the house has had a makeover, we had another child to complete our family, survived a major job loss and career change for my husband, and have made countless memories and traditions with our kids.  We’ve had some really tough moments and some really amazing moments. Both of which we’ve learned and grown from and continue to grow from.  And we still have each other.  House, excellent Father for my children, Honda Pilot, 2 Kids.

I wish I could say the story ends there.  I appreciate everything I have, hold on to the moments of contentment and enjoy life to its fullest. But, that’s not true.  I am human.  I want more, strive to have more and am constantly setting goals on how to get more.  I am not comfortable being stagnant. I like to move forward and moving forward means asking the question, what’s next?

In fact, when my children give me the long laundry list of what they want, I always tell them “Its good to want. If you had everything you wanted, there’d be nothing to look forward to.”  But, is life supposed to be filled with only fleeting moments of satisfaction? Yes and no. Life is supposed to be filled with moments, only we get to decide if those moments are filled with contentment or filled with longing for more.

Just because we don’t have a six figure income doesn’t mean we can’t have a life of wealth.  Its so easy to focus on what we don’t have and forget to take inventory on what we do.  I don’t have the mansion I dreamed of or the car I wanted, but I have a great family, great health, great friends, a great job and time to play.  There are days I don’t remember I am thankful for these things, many actually, and those are the days I am the most unsatisfied. The more I want, the less content I become.  It’s a continuous practice to find the balance between being thankful for what I have and setting goals for what’s next, but well worth the prize of appreciation and fulfillment.

I admit, I still read my horoscope- I am a true goal oriented Capricorn- and I still am wondering what the future holds.  But with a little practice and a whole lot of gratitude, I will acknowledge that I have mastered the game of MASH and have exactly what I was looking for.

Home, Partner, Freedom, Bliss.

Help Me To Help You

Dear Faithful Readers (and those who swing through every now and then or find this site by accident),

I realized last weekend as I was writing an article, then scrapped it and started another, then scrapped that one and started over, and then scrapped the last one and wrote something completely different, that although I am talented at thinking A LOT and saying A LOT, its really you I want to touch and find something I hope you’ll find valuable.

One of my talents is answering questions. This is what I do everyday. I am a counselor both by profession and by nature. I answer easy questions and hard questions for my children, my friends, my family, my students, their parents, my co-workers, people in line at the grocery store, and sometimes my kitten (although my lack of kitten speak seems to annoy her).  Questions are easy for me.

Another one of my talents is finding the not so random in the randomness. It’s a gift really. I can have a random conversation with someone and find meaning in it, on most topics.  I typically can make a full circle observation in some of the most mundane of topics.  Sometimes entertaining and sometimes downright disturbing. Just kidding…or am I?

So here is my request for you.  If you have any questions, thoughts, ideas you’d like my perspective on, please ask.  Anytime. If you have topics you’d like me to write about or suggestions, send them my way.  Help me to help you.

In the meantime, I hope you continue to enjoy reading my perspectives at least a quarter of the amount I enjoy sharing them.

Thanks for reading and hope to hear from you.

With utmost sincerity,

Lynn

My Sibling, My Friend…sometimes

Prior to having our first child, my husband wanted a basketball team size family.  Lots of kids. Lots.  I don’t know if it was the moody pregnant wife or the sleepless nights and loads of extra responsibility that came with the first child, but his tune changed quickly after we had our daughter.  He was okay with having one.  She was beautiful, healthy, funny, smart, every parent’s dream child…and again, a lot of responsibility.  Why risk it?

A little over two years later, that question was answered when we announced I was pregnant.  My daughter was thrilled with the idea of having a sibling. She told us he would be a boy well before we had the confirming ultrasound and she was the one who broke the ongoing debate of his name.  She after all, ruled our house with her charm, and she was the big sister.  Once he was born, she fell instantly in love with him.  She wanted to always be around him and take care of him. We were so proud of her and so happy that we had decided to give our family this beautiful gift.  He was an angel baby and an amazing lesson of responsibility and love for his sister.

My son’s love for his sister was also unrivaled.  He used to stare at her in adoration, her name was even his first word.  He constantly wanted her attention and approval.  She was his idol.

Fast forward to now.  My children argue or make snide comments to each other at least 325 times a day. At least.  They both have strong personalities, loud and opinionated and the competition to express them is fierce.  They are competitive, argumentative and at times aggressive when it comes to their siblingship.  (Sometimes made up words fit best) They can be mean, hurtful, sarcastic, demeaning and rude towards each other and most of the time, I turn into the angry referee who is constantly questioning, “is it ok to talk to your brother/sister like that?” To which they reply “no” and then go at it five seconds later as if I just hopped in Wonder Woman’s invisible jet.  Actually, that would be nice, wouldn’t it? I usually send them to their room to work it out. Did I mention they share a bedroom?!! They then quickly come to a formal agreement so they don’t have to spend another minute together to prolong the torture.

But here’s the other reality.  When they are separated for an afternoon out and are given a balloon or sticker or something fun from somewhere, they almost always ask for another one for their sibling.  When my daughter plays soccer, my son is her biggest fan, or at least the loudest.  My daughter reads my son bedtime stories and they snuggle on his bed until he knocks out. When they play games together, they giggle like crazy, enjoying each others’ company, right up until the point that someone is accused of cheating and it ends abruptly.

Siblings may not be immediate friends or the closest friends, but they have a unique relationship that can’t be matched. Sometimes it’s hard for them to see it, but the more we are able to show them the importance of preserving this relationship and what they have to gain from it, the better off we all are.  They are each others first experience of learning how to share time, attention, responsibility, and space. When they are confronted with disagreements, they must learn how to work it through in order to keep peace in the home.  They learn how to argue and discover what works and doesn’t work. It’s not always easy, but its reality. The more they learn in the safety of their home, the more they can practice and be prepared when confronted with those they don’t have as many chances with.

Although they drive each other nuts and at times their greatest personal accomplishments are getting the other one in trouble, I have no doubt that if the big, bad bully showed up on the bus, both my kids would defend the other in a heartbeat. They share genes, parents, life experiences, memories, values and a genuine respect for each other that they will never share with anyone else.  And at a level they may not recognize, I believe they know and acknowledge this.

The days of constant adoration may be over, but the lifetime of learning from each other’s experiences, respecting each other’s differences, and supporting each other in the ups and downs of life, is just beginning.  I am comforted by the fact that I know, no matter what, they have each other. They may not always agree or even want to be in each others presence for more than five minutes, but when it counts, they will be there.  For this, I am very thankful, even when I am riding in Wonder Woman’s invisible jet. Man, she was lucky…

Spread the Sunshine

When my kids were babies I used to sing “You are My Sunshine” to them all the time.  After the initial verse, I would make up my own verses with their names and they were very, very silly.  I still refer to them as Sunshine Girl and Sunshine Boy at night when I am telling them how madly in love I am with them when they go to sleep.  I think they like it.

They really are the sunshine in my life.  Once they came into my world, it really did become brighter, more meaningful, and warm.  Even on my cloudy days, I know they are there hiding behind the gloom, ready to shine their sparkles of goodness and light.  They are such happy children.

It is because I enjoy parenting and helping others on this path, that I started this blog.  Life is full of sunshine behind the clouds.  It will always be there, but sometimes you need a gentle reminder to show you where it is and sometimes that reminder is from another perspective. I have thoroughly enjoyed offering you mine.

Because of this I was honored and thankful to recently receive the Sunshine Award from Jennifer Wolfe of Mamawolfe, a blogger friend I’ve grown to greatly admire and respect.  A fellow educator and philosopher of life, Jennifer shares her deep reflections and wise perspectives on childrearing, joy finding and life living, to its fullest.  Her writings are intelligent, introspective, inspirational. What’s better than that?

And with this honor, comes great responsibility. Here are the rules for accepting this award.

1. Thank the person who gave this award and write a post about it.
2. Answer the following questions below.
3. Pass the award to fabulous bloggers, link their blogs and let them know you awarded them.

Favorite Color?

Green.  Is it because my eyes are green? Maybe.  Is it because my husband only wears New York Jets clothing every-single-day and they are all green and I’ve been brainwashed. Maybe. Is it because when I was a child no one ever said they liked green and I felt sorry for it? Maybe. Guess it doesn’t matter. I just like it.

Favorite Animal?

Cats. We have a kitten. She rocks.  She is ridiculously cute and soft and snuggly and makes me happy.  Before her, we had another cat who was amazing and cuddly and sweet and loyal.  He also had a nightlife that we could not keep him away from. The cats would stand outside the door and call for him at night to come out.  He apparently was a big shot in the neighborhood. I’m not sure if he was into something illegal or shady, but one night he did not come home. I am hoping our kitten will not want to follow in his paw prints. It’s rough out there.

Favorite number?

3- I like the word trifecta…and I remember being 3 sitting on block chair in my kitchen drinking milk. Life was simple then.

Favorite Drink?

I think I may have mentioned this once—Beer.  Not a lot. Just one or two, Indian Pale Ale is my favorite. The hoppier the better. Delicious and winds a busy day down beautifully.

Facebook or Twitter?

Facebook hands down. For now. I just can never remember to Tweet. And if I did, I would feel sorry for my followers. I have so many random thoughts through the day, it might be overwhelming.

Your Passion?

If I had to pick one…..I love helping people, even the annoying ones. I truly believe that even the darkest souls have glimpses of light.  I have always taught my children that there is no such thing as a bad girl or a bad boy, only bad behavior.

Giving or getting presents?

Oh I love to give gifts.  The only hard part is if I buy it early and have to wait, the excitement is painful to contain.

Favorite Day?

I don’t have a favorite day, but I have a favorite part of the day.  I love the early morning when I first get up.  Especially if I am the first one up and I usually am. I love the feeling of being refreshed and hopeful knowing the day holds so many possibilities of what can be enjoyed and accomplished.  To me, nothing beats the start of the day.

Favorite flower?

Water lily.  It reminds me of summers spent on our family’s lake in Maine.   In the canoe, they were beautiful to pass by, but while swimming, we avoided them like they were water snakes because they were so slimy.  My own kids swim right through them. I love that.

I am happy to pass along the Sunshine Award to the following blogs I enjoy immensely and know you will too.

Just Another Tired Mommy

Four Plus an Angel

The Crazy Life of a Writing Mom

My Dishwasher’s Possessed

Yummy Mummy

Picklebums

Check them out and ENJOY!!