In our house, Christmas is a work in progress, as far as gratitude goes.

Last year we celebrated with just our small, immediate family. And thankfully (or maybe not), there were not a ton of presents underneath our tree. Most of them were either for our older son or for the entire family, so we let him have the pleasure of opening them.

Not surprisingly, we found ourselves repeating a refrain familiar to parents everywhere during the holidays and at birthday parties:

Slow down!

Take time to look at it!

This is not a race!

What we really meant, of course, is that we want our kids to actually appreciate the gifts they’re given. Birthdays and holidays should be more than just a flurry of presents and torn wrapping paper. Everyone likes receiving gifts, but it’s important that we take the time to acknowledge them.

And, more important still, to be thankful for them.

Saying “thank you” is a great start. Maybe give a hug, if both parties feel so inclined. At the least, we want time to mentally note who gave what so that cards can be sent later.

Fact is, we know that our children appreciate the gifts they’re given. Just as they appreciate the other important parenting roles we play.

When our kids are babies, of course, we don’t expect gratitude. We’re content to be their whole world—for those first few months, anyway. We don’t expect to be thanked for [Read more…]

Change. One of the many things in life that is inevitable. We as adults have learned this through time and experience.

Trying to cope with change can be hard on anyone of any age. But it can be especially hard on little ones.

Big life changes such as a move, divorce, starting school, or any significant change in daily routines can set off a cornucopia of reactions.

I know from personal experience how hard it is on a child and parent alike to cope with change. This past summer was a summer of change for our family. My three year old daughter took to the new changes with open arms, yet my five year old son did not.

My husband had recently landed a new job a few states away and would be gone on business for three weeks at a time. As a result, we decided I should quit my full time job to become a stay at home mom.

Awesome, right?

Well…not at first.

[Read more…]

A few weeks ago I discovered a wonderful opportunity to take a course that involved traveling from away from home one weekend a month to train in creative writing as a therapist.

Creative writing has been my personal therapy since my angst-filled teenage years and the idea of being able to offer this in a professional capacity to others felt amazing.

My husband was all for me taking a vocational training to further develop my career. My daughter was looking forward to weekends filled with daddy time, TV dinners, and going out for ice cream.

Then, following a conversation with my mum in which she questioned the practicalities of leaving the country on a monthly basis fear kicked in.

Could I really afford it? Would I be able to find a babysitter since I had to leave on the Friday while my husband was still at work? Would my daughter really be okay with me traveling so often?

I started to feel huge anxiety that I would end up with a financial deficit and a disconnected daughter; and that there was something terribly self-indulgent and wrong in me taking all this time and spending all this money on myself.

My husband, and best friend, reassured me it was a good idea, that it would be no big deal making the trip once a month.

I knew rationally it was a good idea. As a Hand in Hand Parenting instructor I’m always telling parents to take care of their own needs; that a happy parent equals a happy child. I also knew it was an investment for the whole family and our future.

So why did I feel like I was being selfish? Why had my initial excitement derailed into guilt and fear?

I needed a reality check so I asked a group of online mothers what they thought about it. [Read more…]

It was a normal evening, full of dinner making and homework and activity. My youngest sat at the table doing a math worksheet, my oldest was practicing her flute, and my son was shooting hoops. I stood at the stove, chopping an onion for the sauce. Normal.

“Mom, what’s Sandy Hook?” my youngest asked.

I stopped chopping, grateful my back was to her and also that I had been chopping an onion. Even after all these years the name of that small town in my small state brings tears to my eyes.

I inhaled, and exhaled, perhaps taking a moment too long to answer. She was probably wondering if I heard her. How could I explain this to my little girl? How could I tell her that I still remember exactly where I was sitting and where she was playing as I watched the tragedy unfold on the news? Kids, just like my own, at school, murdered.

I turned to face her, my girl blissfully unaware of the deep heartache those two words held. Sandy Hook was no longer just a small town an hour away; it was forever ingrained as a tragedy. And now my little girl wanted to know about it. Talking to my daughter about handling tragedy was not what I imagined was on our agenda for the evening.

“Where did you hear about Sandy Hook?” I asked sitting next to her.

“Someone said it at school.”

I had braced myself for questions about the recent shootings in the news, but somehow bringing up Sandy Hook caught me off guard. It felt different. Not because it was any more or less tragic, but because [Read more…]