“If there is anything we wish to change in the child, we should first examine it and see whether it is not something that could better be changed in ourselves." -Carl Jung
If there are certain characteristics about your children that bug you, first of all let me say, you are not alone.
Second, let me say, the reason those characteristics bug you so much may be worth investigating.
It could prove to be a life changer.
This is my story …
My youngest daughter does things in her own time–her own SWEET time. When we go for a walk, it is a gentle stroll. Her motto: Why get sweaty when you don’t have to?
Swim meet competitions are no different. While other swimmers furiously fly past, my child enjoys long, leisurely strokes. And by the looks of her winning smile, one might think “last” is the new “first.”
When trying to get somewhere quickly, I may as well just save my breath with phrases like “hurry up” and “we’re going to be late.” Unless the ice cream truck is rounding the corner, such terms only lessen her pace.
I must be honest. Her inherent slowness, her laid back approach to life really used to bug me. In fact, it has caused dangerous spikes in blood pressure and a few gray hairs.
Interestingly enough, my older daughter is the opposite. She is fast. Living quick and passionately, she seizes ambitious pursuits without hesitation.
Each week, if not every single day, a new vision is born, a new project to pursue—and with it, a new mammoth-size mess is made.
She starts a sewing project—clothes and miniature pillows for her dolls. Within minutes, it appears as if a fabric store has descended and exploded on her bedroom floor.
She gets a Japanese recipe book from the library and she declares that she will try every recipe in the book. Green tea ice cream, crab wontons, fried tofu—they are all fair game. The kitchen is a flurry of activity. We have our own Asian bistro—and the mayhem of 10 sloppy chefs.
She discovers a love to teach, so she opens a summer school and invites real children to be her students. For months prior to opening day, lesson plans cover the house. Bulletin board assembly creates the world’s smallest scraps that stick to bare feet. Once again, the remnants of creating a dream are not a pretty sight.
Again, I must be honest. Her fast and furious passion for life really used to bug me—almost as much as her little sister’s slowness.
Notice I wrote “used to” bug me.
You see, things changed a few weeks ago. The change was so subtle that it almost went unnoticed. Thank God, it didn’t. And if there is anything about your children or significant other that irritates you, you may want to read this.
We had spent the morning at the beach. Everyone was hot and tired and ready to go home. My husband and older daughter started back carrying the cooler and several bags. Judging by their quick strides, I quickly surmised I would be holding up the rear, meandering along with my youngest child.
It was not the ideal time for a stroll. The umbrella strap was digging a permanent home in the crease of my neck. The metal bars of two beach chairs were creating temporary tattoos on my forearm. Since I had no free hands to wipe my perspiring forehead, there was a monstrous bead of sweat dangling from the end of my nose. And my youngest, as usual, was in no hurry.
But for some reason, I held my tongue. And when she stopped to investigate a tiny crab. I did not say, “Come on, let’s go.” I set down my arsenal of beach gear and rested, studying her face as she studied the crab. And when she looked up and pointed out a cloud that looked like Minnie Mouse, I marveled with her. And when she asked what made me fall in love with her daddy, I told her a memory I hadn’t told a soul.
Then she offered to carry the bucket of sand toys so she could hold my hand.
And in that moment, her slow approach to life didn’t bug me. Oddly, it inspired me.
Finally we reached our destination. Before I could even relish the cool blast of an overtaxed air conditioner, my older daughter thrust a handmade menu into my hand. I was bombarded with a sea of questions about restaurant management. She announced that she was making plans to create a muffin stand–“like a lemonade stand, but WAY better.”
She rattled off all the important details: Her homemade muffins would be sold at the corner of our front yard for $1.25 a piece. Flavors would include blueberry, banana nut, pumpkin, and other seasonal flavors. She would have free samples and buy-one-get-one-free coupons to entice customers.
In mind my, I envisioned my disheveled little baker alternating between stirring the batter, designing business cards, and test tasting—all beneath a thick haze of flour dust.
But this time I did not flinch. Nor did I get a feeling of dread at the pit of my stomach.
I sat down next to her and listened to her thought process and problem solving skills. As she tore through her notebook designing and sketching, she’d periodically ask my opinion. Other times, she wouldn’t say anything at all; she’d simply look up and smile at me. Her dream was coming to fruition. And out of all the people in the world, she wanted to share it with me.
And in that moment, her fast and furious passion for life didn’t bug me. Oddly, it inspired me.
At the conclusion of her planning session, my daughter asked me to look at the calendar to see what day she could open “Banjo’s Bakery” (lovingly named after our new kitten). Suddenly, my hand flew to my mouth.
It was my 2nd Hands Free Anniversary.
On that very day two years ago, I broke down on a hot tarmac road and vowed to stop missing life. I vowed to make small changes to let go of distraction in order to grasp what really matters.
And maybe one of my greatest “Hands Free” lessons was two years in the making. Because after all, this one is a tough pill to swallow.
Perhaps what bugs me about my children reveals a longing in myself—an unfulfilled desire, a long-time deficiency within me.
Do you know how often I wish I could slow down?
Stop and savor the bird’s song on my way out the door …
Spend an hour reading books in my bed and not feel guilty …
Smile simply because I am pulling my favorite pair of pj’s over my head …
Do you know how much I often wish I could put my dreams in action?
To throw caution to the wind and decide there is nothing more important that pursing this dream at this moment …
To reach for my greatest aspirations without fear of failure, without considering what anyone else might think, without making excuses …
To ignore the mess as it piles up around me and focus solely the passions of my heart …
Perhaps what bugged me about my children’s uniquely different approaches to life was that they touched on my own deficiencies.
What I’ve wanted to change in my children were characteristics I wanted to grow in myself.
And yes, it took two years of “letting go to grasp what matters” to figure it out.
But that is OK. It’s never too late to gain a new perspective.
After all, I recently learned life is not a race; it is a journey. And I’ve got plenty of time.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got dreams to put into action.
Things could get messy.
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Is there anything that irritates you about your child or significant other? Today I challenge you to go “Hands Free” and let go of past feelings about this “issue” and look at it from a new perspective. Where you once found annoyance, you may find life-changing inspiration. And for those of you who “got” this lesson long before I did, please share your experiences!
Thank you for being a part of “The Hands Free Revolution” – a supportive community striving to let go of daily distraction to grasp what really matters!
And if you’ll excuse me, I have to grab my tissues. You are an inspiration, mama. Thank you for sharing. <3
I read your new posts each time you make one and I am so inspired by your honesty. You have woken me up to some of the choices I was making as a parent (key word now: was) and I am trying my hardest to not make them anymore. I now am only online when I am at work. At home I make myself free for them. I have laundry in baskets that is clean and unfolded, it’s been there since Friday. I will get to it, eventually. It’s freeing. Thank you for words 🙂
This is just so lovely, Jessica! Thank you for telling me how my messages are impacting you and your precious children. That is the best gift I could receive.
It is sort of perfect to me that I am coming home from my children’s swimming lessons–Pausing in our downtime to grab a little inspiration…I “got” this message today and then reading this post drove it home. While watching my passionate son barrel through his lessons full of spunk and 3 year old energy (but certainly not focus) I caught myself getting ready to holler at him to pay attention! just seconds after watching him ignore his task to show his instructor his “trick” the lifeguard smiles and says, “Man, I wish I could do flips in the water like that!” She didn’t shake her head or roll her eyes at my little boy, who surely was not supposed to be doing flips, but working on side breathing. I sighed and smiled too. He’s full of life. He loves life. So do I, but I get so caught up in doing what I’m supposed to that often I miss that joy. His instructor didn’t look phased. I shrugged my shoulders. There will be plenty of time in the future for all of that focus. Today I let him freestyle:)
YES! This is so awesome. We should all do a little more “freestyle” in life! Our children are our greatest “Hands Free” teachers, aren’t they? Thank you for taking time to share this gem of a story!
I’m glad I took the time to read this post! 🙂
This is SO beautiful, powerful and inspiring! I love the details you noticed in your children and that they are positives instead of negatives. And I would LOVE to have some of those muffins!
This was beautiful.
Love.
The things that bother me most about my son (lack of focus) and my husband (doesn’t get things done)… if I’m honest are the things that I most want to change about myself.
I am a lot like your older daughter, becoming consumed by my newest idea. I love that although they are so different in their approach, you are able to see the beauty in both ways of doing things. They are so lucky that you started this Hands Free journey two years ago.
Thank you for meeting me in the “light of realness,” Jen. Although these difficult truths can be painful, I truly believe that is where the growth occurs. I look forward to hearing where this revelation takes you, friend. Please keep me posted.
Henry David Thoreau’s words come to mind, Rachel. “It is a great art to saunter.” Enjoy!
Thank you for posting this today! This is me all the way with my 2 daughters. They have the exact same personally you described. Thank you for the insight and sharing what you have learned from both of them! You are a blessing!
My kids are all grown now, and I still love your blog. Years ago I used to have to wait constantly to pick up kids from this or that. Always waiting it seemed. One day my daughter was very late getting to the pick up spot, and I unloaded on her. It was not her fault at all, and yet my frustrations all came out at once on her. She had been gone for five days. She sadly said, ‘I thought you might have missed me, or been glad that I was home, or something.” It hit me like a slap in the face how horrible I had just been. The other kids got out of the car, and I had her stay back while I humbly appoligised for what I had said. I really meant it too! I was so sorry.
After that I made sure that all of my kids, I have 5, knew that I would wait and not to worry. I never got mad or impatient with them. I always remembered to ask as soon as they got in the car , how things went. It really was such a learning lesson for me.
Just now I am asking myself if maybe I had been wishing that I would have had a fun place to go and have my family waiting for me. I think this is exactly what had happened. How sad that it took me this long to understand myself. I did change long ago, just a little slow to understand it all.
Thanks for your blog. I really do enjoy it.
What a powerful story, Debbie! I truly cherish the wisdom from parents who are much farther down the “parenting path” than I am.
Thank you for your openness and honesty. I certainly learned from you through your message, and I am certain other people have, too. I celebrate the fact that after making the mistake, you made efforts to change … to do things differently. After all, we cannot be perfect in this parenting journey, but we CAN learn from our mistakes … and try to change. I also appreciate how you took time to think about why you may have reacted like you did. That is very insightful. You could have easily said, “What’s done is done.” But instead you took a deep look inward. I cannot help but think this will help you in future interactions with the people you love. Your children are very blessed to have you as their mother.
Thank you so much for taking the time to write and share your wisdom!
As usual (and I still consider myself a new reader, so I’m glad to see myself write, “As usual”), today’s post is spectacular! I love how your writing makes me laugh out loud. I love it that I even took the time to READ what you wrote today. Perhaps the “hands free mama” mantra is getting through to this young grammy of 3, mother of 4. As George Eliot wrote, “It’s never too late to be what you might have been.” Thank you for inspiring me to be a better version of myself and keep writing about your interior life. I love learning from you!
This is just too beautiful. I love the sound of your daughters’ approach to life, and I love how you have been able to embrace it. I have been thinking a lot of about the inspiration my daughter gives me, since I read this. She inspires me in many ways – to slow down, to be present, to enjoy what I am doing rather than rushing off to other things. We walked along the beach today and it was so magical, walking side by side, good friends chatting and making magic. She is my little friend; my soul’s companion. Xxx
Thanks so much! I continue to enjoy reading your insights, reminders, and great perspective on motherhood. Your articles are a blessing to me and my family as well. Thank you for taking the time to write. You are a blessing to many!
Hi Rachel,
I love you, I love reading your posts and I love how they make me think. I have to say….the first half of this one I found myself laughing. I could 100% relate to the scenario’s you were describing, especially the snail paced ones. I was relieved to know that this too has happened to you….the blood rising as thoughts of being late once again cross your mind. I know this post will stay with me each time I casually tell Adam to not take any early morning college courses, or as I see the twinkle in Ben’s eyes always looking for the next thing, or as Connor proceeds to pick up every stone and stick in his path like it is the best one he’s ever found. Thank you Rachel–this one really hit home! (Reading for an hour without feeling guilty struck a cord too!). Hugs to you!
Thank you, sweet friend. Reading this beautiful comment brings me back to that wonderful day I met you in the park. You started talking, and I thought to myself what an open, honest, authentic, and beautiful soul. My moves around the south have brought me some precious gems and YOU are one of them. Thank you for taking the time to tell me that you can relate! How comforting. And thank you for letting me know the impact of my messages on your life. You inspire me to keep on writing and sharing the good, bad, and the ugly. We’re in this together!!! I love you, too.
Thank you for sharing your thoughs. You lead me to reflect on my 4 children’s characters and learn the lesson that their individuality imparts.
Absolutely beautiful! It brought tears to my eyes. This is what I’ve been striving for. This is why I changed the name of my blog. The wonder of childhood and slowing down to savor it!
My son is slow moving and imaginative. In the past we have been known to ask him to hurry, or cut him off, because we get so caught up in life as an adult. And I have to admit, sometimes there still needs to be a cut off point… like when it’s thirty minutes past bedtime and there’s no end in sight. But for the most part, we’ve been learning to slow down, really hear him, and enjoy the world through his eyes. And if we have to guide him into another activity, doing it more gently and less abruptly.
Thank you for sharing and for writing it so beautifully.
Vous pouvez obtenir une bonne s
This is amazing. Every time I read your post there’s a line for me. It’s like you were thinking about me when you wrote it. I would put it on a new page of my notebook, because I do want to learn it by heart and to remember it forever. How do you do this? 🙂