Do you need me, or do you need me not?

The remote learning for the new school year has only just begun, but I have already started to see and feel the emotional effects. I see the longing in my children for the normal we have left behind, and I shake my head at the irony of how desperately they all want to go to school. So many mornings of their youth were spent coaxing them out of their “I don’t want to go to school today, Mom!” energy.  Now, there would be no greater gift to them than stepping into their classrooms.

I feel myself re-calibrating also, like the spinny circle on the browser when something isn’t loading properly, what is my role now? The voice in my head firmly sets out the expectation: a good mom would make herself accessible for whatever they need: computer help, organizational consults, supervisory pop-ins (me with an “ok?” hand gesture and raised eyebrows, cause I can never be sure when their mic or video is on), re-filling their water bottle to ensure they stay hydrated, delivering freshly baked cinnamon buns directly to their work-space….wait, what?! Did I really just do that? Way to go Super-Mom, that is a dangerous precedent to set in the first week!

So as I run my introspective inventory of how I am feeling and what my direction should be on this, I come out lost. The part of me that wants to rescue my children with cinnamon buns when I see them sad has oozed all over the part of me that knows experience is a valuable teacher, and the most profound growth comes from contrast. I try the empathy card, and imagine what I would felt like at their age if I was forced to do classes from home, all my extra curriculars were cancelled, and my freedom to roam severely hijacked. Ugh. That isn’t helping. I feel grief and loss and disappointment, and when I snap out of the memory, I find myself mixing a batch of cookies for the kids for when they log-off, what?!  When did June Cleaver take over my psyche?

I feel like I am back in my role as HR Manager when Headquarters laid out new policies for the field offices, and we had to implement and defend them, even though we knew they didn’t fit.  Finding the bright silver lining when I also feel that missing senior year of high school just sucks? Even looking ahead to brighter times doesn’t work as we tread in the murky waters of what first year university might look like.  My inner voice says, “maybe you should just sit this one out – you have nothing positive to offer here”.

So as I pull these petals off the daisy, wondering how to best show up for my kids in this new world, I am reminded of the effects of hot water, and how our own perspective can powerfully change the outcome:

Be well parents, whatever your circumstances, you got this 🙂

Boundaries.

You know how you have those a-ha moments that feel like they have been building for days, but you only realize it in hindsight, like, “oooooohhhhh, THAT is why that happened”, and perhaps that was the Universe tapping me on the shoulder and saying ”are you paying attention? I’m trying to teach you something.”

I have been listening to Brené Brown talk about Boundaries for ages. In her books, in her podcasts, it always makes sense.  Then I get thrown into a real-life opportunity to apply it in my own world, and where did all that wisdom go? Replaced by frustration and overwhelm, and a HEAVY dose of brain-chatter, I did my best to muddle through, taking the lessons on the nose as I went. 

So here is the context:  Four kids at home for the summer, Mom trying to hold space for her own identity through her own work, but keeps getting called upon by her children for various needs. There is an assumption in their requests that I will help, always.  And why wouldn’t they think that?  Haven’t I tee’d up that expectation with my behavior and responses their whole life?  Even if the request could be fulfilled themselves with just a wee bit of effort, the quickest point from A to B in their minds is, Ask Mom.

As an aside, you may be familiar with this in your own world. It looks like this:  Your child, sometimes in the same room with you, but often yelling from another room, says “Mom, where is <fill in the blank>.  At which point, you are faced with a handful of options:

1. Reply (or shout back), “it’s in the <fill in the blank>, giving them the easy answer to save you both time, but extends a terrible precedent.
2. Respond with the empowering encouragement to “look with your eyes, not your mouth!”, knowing they are capable of finding what they are looking for if they just put a little effort into it. Caveat, this often loops back to either a) or c) .
3. Drop what you are doing, go to where they are, pick up the item (often sitting right in front of them) and hand it to them with one of those Mom looks that says “are you kidding me?” but teaches them that Mom will always rescue them so they need not be resourceful

I write this in a vibe that suggests frustration, but if I’m being authentic, there is a part of me that is validated by my children needing me. After all, motherhood is a huge part of my identity, and I do truly want to be a great mom to my kids, and that look of relief on my child’s face when their item is found, translates to gratitude to me. As a mom whose love language is Acts of Service, this means I have shown them love, right?

But what if I have created four entitled monsters who never do anything for themselves and have no respect or courtesy for when I am busy with something else? What if in my motherhood goal of being a soft-place-to-land for my children, I have made myself too accessible, robbing them of the opportunity to learn grit and resourcefulness? Did I blow it by doing too much for them?

No, of course not, a few years from now the house will be empty and you will actually miss the opportunity to be cleaning up after your children, because it means they are close by.

Are you kidding? This is a life skill, their future room- mates and spouses will thank me for the hard lessons I teach them now!

Bah, curse you mind chatter!

Deep breath….exhale…enter Brené Brown’s wisdom on how to live B-I-G.

B is for Boundaries.

I is for Integrity

G is for generosity

This acronym asks the question, “what boundaries need to be in place for me to be in integrity and generous towards others”. 

(Given the topic of this post I feel a note of of clarification is needed here. Generosity towards others is not what you might first think – she is talking about the story we create in our mind about other people and their behavior – do we villainize, judge and/or blame, or are we generous with our responses and thoughts, creating space for our perception of them to be something more?)

Brené does some great story-telling around the idea of Boundaries. The moral of her stories often asks the question: have you ever said yes to something you didn’t really want to do, and then quickly morphed that into resentment for having to do what you agreed to do? Who is really accountable in that scenario?

What it comes down to in attempting to set healthy boundaries, is being really honest (both with yourself, and others) about:

1. what is okay
2. what is not okay. 

So back to my example with my kids. I woke up that morning feeling good and ready to tackle the three items I had in mind to complete by the end of the day. I tossed them around in my mind a little, feeling into what order I should complete them, and what approach to use with each, feeling like a rock star for being pro-active and so well organized!

It may come as a surprise to hear this, but it did not even occur to me that all of it might get sabotaged by my children’s own agenda for the day.  A request from one kid here, another one there, setting aside what I was doing, pivoting to account for the time lost, returning to my tasks only to be pulled away again by something “urgent” for one of my children.  The words of Dr. Phil from many years ago float back into my head “you teach people how to treat you”, but they are quickly quashed by the logic of “it will be easier and quicker to just do this for them than the energy it would take to decline their request and explain patiently why they would have to either wait or find another resource”.  Setting boundaries takes time and I just want to get back to my tasks as quickly as possible so I can feel good about finishing them!

I feel my barometer rising with each additional request, as my mind begins to move to Plan B for completing my own tasks. I begin crafting an email to set modified expectations with a client about how my children are to blame for my lateness. I don’t send it. In a last ditch effort, I partially decline one of my kids, explaining that I also have some items to attend to, and encourage him to ask his sibling for help instead (clever, right?), and if it doesn’t work out, THEN I’ll help. It took about 15 minutes for him to be tapping my shoulder, explaining that he just needed me to do it.

Okay, gloves off. “Darling, when you are planning a project, part of the skill lies in planning the availability of resources. If you know you are going to need other resources (i.e. ME), you need to book them in advance to ensure they are available. I actually have a deadline I need to meet today and if I help you with this right now in this moment, I will not make my own deadline”. Feeling surprisingly satisfied with the calmness with which I was conveying this wisdom, I paused to let it sink in and awaited his response.

 “Okay Mom, I get it. <long pause> Alright, ready to help me then?”    Sigh.

Fortunately in this example, I was able to give him the time and effort he was asking for, and while I was late to hitting my own deadline, I did in fact complete the task, later that night, after supper.

Unfortunately, I was then plagued with the conflicting inner voices of “be a great mom first” vs “set some boundaries to preserve your own identity”.  What does it matter? Everything got done! Yes, but I don’t want to be in that situation again, what can I do to make this better next time?

As so often happens with reflection, I realized afterwards what I should have said. Using Brené Brown’s template:

This is okay:

It is okay to ask me for help. I love supporting you in your goals, I am your biggest fan!

This is not okay:

Waiting until the last minute to ask for my help and then demanding my time and attention with no consideration to other commitments I might have. I may *seem* accessible because you can physically see me, but please don’t assume my time and energy are available.

This approach allows me to feel good about sharing some of my life-wisdom with my son about how to manage a project, and also models the behavior I hope he will one day adopt in setting boundaries in his own world.

The feeling of being an effective Mom. My own tasks accomplished. Check. Thank you Universe, lesson learned!

And in the spirit of great irony, I then receive this quote from Anita Moorjani and I see the whole thing in a brand new light.

May the learning continue…

A New Take on Superhero Syndrome.

Image source: makingofblog.com/cinecomic/

You may have heard of this affliction in a few different contexts.

One is when someone creates a disaster so that they can resolve it and look like the hero. For example, my son is experiencing this with one of his coaches, who is attempting to poke a sleeping dragon so she can claim victory for slaying it, with little regard for the consequences to those she is coaching.

Another context, is when someone strives to do everything and be everything to everyone, with little regard for their own well-being. We see this often in Moms.  Nuf Said.

But I have a new way of looking at superhero syndrome, which may sound a trifle ungrateful at first, but I’m betting if you’re a regular reader of my blog, you can relate.

Let me give you a couple of examples, and see if you can spot it…

Teenage daughter makes macaroni and cheese for herself and her siblings while mom is out, but places the rubber-handled pot lid upside down on the still-hot burner, thereby melting it to the surface, and created a new problem for someone (not mentioning any names) to pry off the surface and attempt to clean so that the house doesn’t smell like burnt rubber next time we cook.

or

Husband decides he is going to cook for the family, making a delicious meal, and even using up leftover food, but leaves a trail of crusted-on pots and pans, dirty counters, left out food, and countless dishes for someone (again, not mentioning any names) to clean up.

Yeah, you know the scenario. It’s the same reason I cringe watching Avengers movies when I see all the crumbling infrastructure and collateral damage inflicted in the process of nailing the bad guy. While everyone else is cheering for the superheroes, I want to shout at the screen “somebody has to clean that sh!t up you know!”

Perhaps it is because my love language is Acts of Service (if you don’t yet know love languages, go read about it – they are indispensable to better relationships and understanding perspective).  There are five languages, and mine means that I feel most loved when people are of service to me in some way (helping out without being asked, or doing something in anticipation that you know will make things easier/nicer for me, for example). In a nutshell, actions speak louder than words.

The tricky part with love languages though, is that the opposite of your love language feels like “unloved’. So when my children leave a trail of wrappers, crumbs, dishes, cast-off socks, wet towels, (you get the picture)…cleaning up after that feels especially yucky to me.  Their act of creating-more-work, feels like “unloved” for me. (You may bock at that and say, “just don’t clean up after them”, and I would say that 1) you sound like my husband and 2) I’ve learned to pick my battles). Our home is also “my office”, so there’s that. Would you want to work in that environment?

Back to my original point, I believe the real Superhero Syndrome is creating the impression that you are doing a great thing, but without mindfulness to the reason you are doing it, you may actually be creating more problems to solve (you had to know I was going to bring this back ‘round to mindfulness, right?).

Mindfulness, not to be understated in its value, or impact on the quality of one’s life, and those around you.  May your 2020 be full of mindful intentions and greater wellness!