Thanks, everyone, for your patience these past couple of months. My mother passed away in December and it’s taken me a while to get back into regular life, much less this blog.

So. Here we go….

If there’s one thing I’ve learned this last year, it’s that most of our problems revolve around a basic—but devastating—assumption: when things fall apart, our upset can almost always be traced back to the underlying feeling that we’re not being seen or heard.  That we don’t matter.

Let me give you some examples.  Say I’m trying to tell my spouse about my day, but he’s busy checking his phone and isn’t paying attention.  Or I’m chasing after my kid, trying to get him to do his homework but he’s absconded with the iPad and can’t seem to hear me.  Or you’ve just gotten home from running errands for your wife, but instead of thanking you, here she is, at your throat, complaining that you didn’t get the right kind of bread, now did you.

Well, if you’re like me, pretty soon you’re going to start feeling pretty darn small and grumpy.  Somewhere inside you, an evil little voice starts saying stuff like: your kid’s not listening. He doesn’t respect you. Your husband’s phone is more important than you are. No one’s listening to you. You don’t matter.

Hey, I get it. The truth is, almost every single time I get mad at Ken, somewhere inside me is an awful, yucky little feeling that I don’t matter.  And you know what?  Every time I piss Ken off, I’m pretty sure that it’s because my actions are screaming the exact same thing, telling him that he doesn’t matter.

So what do we do about it?

Simple.  We put down our phones/work/to-do list/whatever else is jamming up our brain and we listen.  We take a good hard look at the person standing in front of us and we give them our full, undivided attention.  That’s right.  Just listen, without interrupting, without trying to solve their problems and without thinking about what we’re going to say next.

Which is harder than it should be in our crazy-busy worlds.  We get so distracted by work, by to-dos, by everything else we shoulda, woulda done that by the end of the day the thing that’s missing in most of our lives is connection. Real, live, deep connection.

But here’s the thing: connection is also the most important thing in our lives.  Take anyone who’s facing a terminal disease or who’s survived some kind of life-altering event and ask them what’s most important, where they wish they’d spent more of their time and attention.  Does anyone ever say work?  Nope.  At the end, when we’re facing that giant divider of death, love is always at the top of the list.  As are our relationships with our spouse, our children and our friends.

And yet these are often the very things that get put aside during daily life, moved to the back burner for when there’s more time, when work eases up, when the stars align, etc, etc, etc.

This is where listening, real listening, comes in. If you do nothing else to change your relationship, take 5 minutes out of your day today to be present–fully present–with your spouse.  Yes, that’s right—just 5 minutes.  Five minutes of your undivided attention, with your actions telling this person that yes, you see them, yes, you hear them. Yes, they matter.

Then, if you’re feeling super-motivated, try doing it with your kids.  Or your co-workers, or your friends.

The truth is, so many of us go through our day feeling like nobody’s truly seen or heard us.  Especially at work.  Especially at home.

(By the way, if you’re having a tough time with your kids, check out Howard Glasser’s All Children Flourishing–Igniting the Greatness of Our Children for a fuller explanation of how to apply this technique to a “problem” child.)

I used to think that I was the only one who would get frozen by this problem, stuck in the feeling that I didn’t matter.  But over the last few months, I’ve come to realize that everyone—and I mean everyone—suffers at times from the feeling that they’re not being seen or heard.  It might come out at work, it might come out at home, it might come out in a particular friendship, but somewhere along the way, we all find ourselves struggling with the feeling that we don’t matter.

It doesn’t matter who you are, what your socioeconomic status is or where you live–if you’re living and breathing, you’re going to bump up against this feeling at some point.  In fact, when my mother was dying, I found this feeling popping up over and over again, with everyone I encountered–nurses, doctors or administrators. Then, when I started to find it popping up in them, I started acting differently.  Instead of my usual argumentative approach when things got difficult (which always backfired, by the way), I started backing off, telling myself that I was going to just listen to this person for a few minutes before I said anything. Just listen.

What I found was this: the most difficult interactions quickly settled down, almost as if by magic. If I could go in with my ears wide open (instead of itching to prove I was right), and honor who that person was and what they needed to say before I said what I needed, our interactions went much more smoothly.

Let me give you an example. One afternoon, I had to have a meeting with a guy I didn’t particularly like.  Something about this guy bugged me on a deep level and I often went into our meetings closed up and ready to fight.  But on this particular day, we desperately needed to make some progress, so I went into our meeting determined to do things differently.  For the first 10 minutes, I sat back and listened.  It was hard to do, because I didn’t agree with half of what he was saying, but I shut my mouth and did my best to keep breathing.  Just breathing.  I did my best to let go of my expectations, with the knowledge that there would be room for me when he was done.

And there was.  Once he was done talking, he’d visibly relaxed, and I was able to calmly tell him where I was coming from and what I needed out of our meeting. For perhaps the first time, we were really listening to each other and talking, and as a result of that, we were able to compromise in a way we’d never been able to before.

I don’t think this would have happened if we hadn’t both felt there was enough room for us both to be seen and heard.

Think about it: when you find yourself arguing with someone, how much of it comes down to just wanting to be seen and heard?

• Someone cuts you off on the street. Fucker! How come he didn’t see me coming?
• The cashier shortchanges you a dollar.  How come this always happens to me?
• Your mother drives you crazy with her constant criticizing.  Why can’t she see all the good things about me?  Why can’t she see who I really am?
• Your boss asks for your feedback, then ignores it.  Asshole! He always thinks he’s better than me!
• Your wife always talks over you at dinner. What a jerk.  Why isn’t there room for me?

And then there’s that friend who’s always emailing with a problem; your mother, who’s always calling to tell you something inane; or your mother-in-law, who’s always agitating to get your attention.  What do they all have in common? Simple: they all want to matter; they all want to be seen and heard.

Last week, I watched Brene Brown (my new favorite person) interviewed on Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday and heard Oprah confirm my theory.  In all her years of interviewing, she said, the one thing she’s learned is that everyone wants to be seen and heard.  Everyone wants to matter.

Everyone.  Your boss, your neighbor, your husband, your child, your mother.

And you.

Frustrated and pissed off at your spouse? Wondering how you’ll get through another stressful, jam-packed holiday season?

Sure you are.  We all are.  It’s tough enough to stay on top of things during normal times, but how are you supposed to do that during times of high-stress, when you’ve got 65 daily to-dos that need to crossed off before noon?

When the shit hits the fan—as it always does in some form or another—most of us start to feel pretty damn uncomfortable inside. Some people deal with that feeling by getting angry, others by shutting down; some go shopping, or drinking; others dive into work or a giant carton of ice cream. But the thing we all have in common is that in some way or another, we’re all trying to escape, if just for a moment, that yucky feeling.

According to Buddhist teacher/author Pema Chodron, one of the other common ways we try to avoid that feeling is by blaming others.

And when you’re married, that means you’ve got an automatic target in front of you any time something goes awry.  Now, I’m not saying we lash out at our spouse on purpose—it’s just plain ‘ole human nature, friend.  We’re all just looking for something that will help ease the pain.

But the problem with blaming is that it doesn’t actually solve anything.  Sure, I might feel better for 3 seconds after I’ve blamed Ken for our trashed house, but then I start to feel even crappier for ruining his day.  Oh my poor, long-suffering spouse.

So how do we get ourselves out of this damn mess?

Well, we take a step back, for starters, and try and figure out what it is we’re really after.  What is it we really need, at the most basic level?  Is the messy house really what’s sent me over the edge, or could it possibly be a desperate need for kid-free time?

To get to the real root of the problem, and not just take the most obvious, easy out, we need to get quiet.  Maybe we go for a walk.  Or meditate.  Take 5 minutes for ourselves and stare at a wall.  Write in a journal.

Once the chaos around us starts to settle down, we’ll begin to be able to figure out what’s truly bothering us.

Maybe you realize what you really need is a little time to yourself after work.  Or a night out with your buds.  Someone to come in and clean your house—just once!—before the holidays.  Maybe you need to go get some exercise and burn off some steam.  Or get away from the kids for two hours.

Whatever you need to maintain (or reboot) your sanity, write it down.  Write them all down.  Keep going, even if your list is giant.  You can always whittle it down, don’t worry.  And if nothing else, you can just aim for the top one or two things on your list.

These are your non-negotiables.

Now, the second, trickier step is actually asking for what you want.

Which seems like it should be easy, right? I mean, hell, we’re all adults here.  Ahem.  Sadly, I’ve talked with quite a few folks this week who, just like me, have gotten stuck in that place of not being able to ask for what they wanted.  Maybe it’s because they thought their spouse would say no; maybe it’s because they didn’t think they deserved it—whatever it is, denying our non-negotiables sets us up with the same, awful problem.  We start to feel like crap because we’re not doing what we need to do for ourselves.

Which means we start lashing out at…bingo!…those we love most.  Or we start drinking, smoking or eating our way through the night to get through that yuckiness we’re now feeling inside.

Hey, I’m not judging—I’ve done it all.  These past few weeks (which have been a giant mess of caring for my sick mother and trying to balance caretaking with my kids, spouse, etc.), I’ve stepped up my alcohol consumption, started eating like a banshee and spent a shitload of money.  It might suck, but it’s human nature, and sadly, none of us are immune to it.

Now, here’s where you think the story’s over, right?  Sadly, no.  The freakouts don’t stop just because we’ve tried to medicate them, they just keep going. Until you really snap.

Like I did yesterday, right before our friends stopped by for dinner, when I started blaming Ken because I was feeling so stressed out.  Beautiful, right?  If I’d been more dialed in, I would have realized that I desperately needed some time to myself before they came by, but I wasn’t, and therefore I didn’t.  Instead, I started blubbering about not being able to take care of one more human being, and by the way, could we just order a pizza?

Thankfully, my friends were kind enough to look past my giant freakout—which, if you’re friends with me, you learn quickly enough—and we were able to get down to the task at hand, which was relaxing and trying to have a bit of fun.

Anyway, over the course of this ridiculous drama, I finally realized that the other reason I was so nuts was because I hadn’t been writing.  For, like, 6 weeks.  Which might not make much sense to you, so let me explain.  See, nearly every time I get crazy-ungrounded like this, I look up and realize that weeks, if not months, have gone by since I’ve written.  It happened when I used to teach college and didn’t have any time for my own work, and it happened after both of my kids were born.  So, for the 896^th time in my life, I once again realized that writing is one of those things I need to do on a semi-regular basis if I am to remain sane.

Meaning that it’s one of my non-negotiables.

So why was I so damn afraid to ask for it?  Because we’d just lost a sitter and Ken was already putting in a ridiculous amount of time with the kids so I could go care for my mom.  How could I ask him for anything else when he already had so little time to himself?

Simple.  Because if I didn’t, I would turn into a raging Hulk.  Oh, wait! I already had!

Sigh.  You think I’d have learned this years ago, wouldn’t you?  I would’ve thought so, too.  But this shit always seems to pop up over and over again until we get it right.

Which is why I finally started writing again today. And now the nice little benefit of taking care of myself is that my family will finally start feeling better, too, if only because they’re not around such a grouch all the time.

Plus, did I tell you how much better my marriage looks when I’m happier?  What a surprise.

So, how about you?  What is it you need to do to maintain your sanity? What are your non-negotiables?

*          *          *

This post is dedicated to Sara, who gave me a gorgeous, purse-sized notebook so I’d always be to write; to Rachel, who lent me her Pema Chodron CD when I desperately needed it, and to Mo, who turned me on to Harshada Wagner when I was at the end of my rope.  And to everyone else who has saved my ass these past few weeks.  I am one lucky chick.

Note: Today’s post is written by Jenny Kales, The Nut-Free Mom.

It’s been said that having a child is similar to having a bomb go off in your marriage.

Now try having a child with a chronic, life-threatening medical condition that is greatly misunderstood and sometimes maligned – food allergies. This is what happened to me. At age 4, my daughter had an immediate and life-threatening allergic reaction at preschool following a bite of a peanut butter sandwich. Later, we found out she was allergic to tree nuts (things like pistachios and walnuts), too.

If having a child is a bomb, then having a child with a severe food allergy (or allergies) can make you feel like you’ve been subjected to a nuclear explosion. Suddenly, what and how you feed your allergic child can cause fights and disagreements because managing a food allergy is a family affair and everyone has to be on board with the safety measures or your child’s health is at risk. Plus, food affects every aspect of life – something I had never really thought about until I had to limit it or else.

I’ve been fortunate to have a supportive spouse throughout my food allergy journey with our daughter, but I will confess that I have always been the more stressed-out party when it comes to this topic. And like many guys in his shoes, for the first year of so, I don’t think my husband fully understood why this food allergy thing was so hard for me.

It wasn’t that he was insensitive; it was more of a logistical problem. My daughter was diagnosed when she was a preschooler and I was at home with our two kids, then four and one. My husband was working long hours as the head of a non-profit organization. Because he was not dealing with the daily slings and arrows of food allergy parenting in the same way that I was, my husband wasn’t always able to sympathize with what I was going through. It fell to me to handle much of the food allergy management in the early days and being a nut allergy newbie myself, it was an overwhelming time.

I sometimes wondered if my husband felt the same pain and apprehension that I often felt about walking the food allergy tightrope. Plus, unlike a lot of other childhood medical issues, people don’t always understand how serious food allergies are. Coping with any life-threatening medical condition in a child can be a heavy burden and I think that the parent doing the bulk of the daily childcare usually feels the stress more severely. In fact, a recent study shows that parenting a child with a chronic medical condition results in more on-the-job stress than being a police officer. How could it not affect your relationship? It is crucial to find common ground.

The flip switched for my husband after he read Joel Stein’s “humorous” essay in the LA Times that lambasted parents of nut-allergic kids as neurotics who wanted to “feel special” and kids with nut allergies as nuisances and fakers. (Ironically, Stein’s own child was diagnosed with nut allergies about a year and half after his piece ran.) For the first time, my hubby got an in-your-face sampling of the attitudes that I was facing on a sometimes daily basis and it made him mad…steaming mad. He became more protective and concerned, and it opened up a lot of new education and discussion about managing not only our daughter’s health, but her emotional well-being — and ours as a family.

Through reader feedback on my blog as well as my own experience, I’ve found that it helps when spouses are being exposed to the same facts and experiences regarding children’s health. Whenever possible, have your partner join you at the doctor appointments or therapies, school meetings and other important activities so that they get the same experiences and input.  Use these times to prompt discussion about what works for your family and what doesn’t. Don’t let one of you “drive” the condition the entire time because equal input definitely helps smooth out any rough edges.

But I’ve also found that you have to accept that your spouse may never feel quite the same way that you do about a medical aspect of parenting. And that’s OK. Like so many other things in a relationship, the goal is harmony, not perfect acquiescence to your partner’s exact perspective. Remembering that helps you defuse the bomb so that you can get on with your lives.

Jenny Kales writes frequently about parenting and food allergies. She is the creator of The Nut-Free Mom blog and the author of the e-book “The New Nut-Free Mom:  A Crash Course in Caring for Your Child with Peanut and Tree Nut Allergies.”

I’ve spent the last two weeks at the hospital, caring for a loved one.  Here’s what I’ve learned:

1. It’s always easier to blame someone or something else for whatever went wrong.
2. Blaming solves nothing.
3. Most of the shit we worry about doesn’t really matter.
4. Love, love and more love.  That’s where it’s at, folks.
5. When in doubt, start asking questions.
6. Why do we wait until it’s almost too late before we realize what’s really important?
7. After the adrenaline rush of a crisis wears off, don’t be surprised if you fall into despair.
8. Sometimes, a little denial isn’t a bad thing.  Sometimes it’s the only way we can make it through.
9. During times of crisis, not sleeping makes sense.  Until the next crisis hits and we don’t have any reserves to handle it.
10. Thank God for friends.
11. If used correctly, crappy magazines and TV are a wonderful way to recharge/briefly escape.
12. Never underestimate how much a child understands.
13. Never underestimate the healing power of a child’s get-well card.
14. How did I ever doubt my husband? Ken’s a rock star.  Always is and always has been, and I can’t thank him enough for everything he does for me and my family, each and every day.
15. There’s definitely something to be said for the power of prayer.
16. Nurses are the most amazing people in the world.  ICU nurses kick some serious ass.
17. Acceptance is a powerful thing, and accepting someone in their entirety (both good and bad) may just be one of the most generous gifts we can ever give another human being.
18. Why the hell do we take so much for granted?
19. I am one blessed motherfucker.

Fight with your honey-bunny lately?

Lovely feeling, isn’t it?

I came across this heart of rocks the other day, and it reminded me of how easily our words can erode a relationship.

Not only do you feel bad about the fight itself, but if you’re like me, there’s also that yucky thing you said that you didn’t really mean.  (Well, you kinda meant it, but not the way it came out.)  And now you’ve got to find some way to fix it, because your once-happy honey-bunny isn’t looking so happy right now.

Marital expert John Gottman advises that for every negative interaction with your spouse, you need to have 5 positive ones.  If you want to stay married, that is.  (Check out this YouTube video for a fuller explanation of how he arrived at this number from his research.)

Now, as a hothead who’s let her evil tongue fly more times than I can count, I have plenty of first-hand knowledge of the damage my words can create.  So much so that those mea culpas quickly become giant, all-consuming projects all by themselves.

But what if the stuff you’re saying isn’t a big deal, or even super-mean? What if it’s just small potatoes kind of stuff?

Like when I tried to thank Ken for refinishing a mirror the other day.  “Looks good,” I said.  “And it’ll look even better when the paint dries and it’s more of a clean finish.”

He looked at me.  “It is dry,” he said.  “I got the bottle with the textured finish.”

Oops.

Big deal, you say.  It was just a small comment.  Right?

The mirror in question.

Well, sure.  Except for the rest of the night, he questioned whether or not he’d picked the right finish.  Or even color, for that matter.

All of which made me realize just how much power my seemingly insignificant comment really carried.  Because no matter how many times I tried to backtrack and thank him for the work he’d done, I couldn’t seem to dig out from under.

And this was just a mirror, for Christ’s sake—it wasn’t anything big, or any of the hot-button issues that we normally fight about.  Which made me wonder about the kind of damage I’m doing when I’m really upset.

Gottman’s advice—do 5 positive things for every negative one—gives us a good place to start when we’ve messed things up with our spouse.  As my therapist friend Scarlet likes to say, we all make mistakes.  But it’s in how we repair it that we’re able to really strengthen our relationships.

How about you?  How have you repaired your relationship when you’ve messed up? 

The last thing you feel like doing with those few extra minutes is trying to get close to your spouse.  It’s so much easier to just watch some TV, you know.  Zone out, or take a nap. Pretend that things aren’t as bad as they are.

Stuff it down. Again.

Besides, even if you do gather up the courage to approach her, nothing’s going to change, right?

And if you somehow manage to find the balls to talk to him straight-up, what if he makes fun of you?  Worse yet, what if he ignores you?

Let’s face it: when you take that first step, you’re vulnerable.  And that’s scary as hell.

But the good news is that being vulnerable shows that you’re on the right road.  According to Brene Brown, a research professor at the University of Houston, “Vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity and change. ”

Think about that one for a minute.  You can apply it to work, sure.  You can apply it to your dreams.  You can also apply it to your marriage, and what that means is this: if you’re not willing to open up and be vulnerable with your spouse, nothing’s going to change.

But here’s the good news: “vulnerability is our most accurate measurement of courage.”

Yeah, that’s right.  If you’re feeling vulnerable, you’re not the loser you’ve been led to believe.  And you shouldn’t feel ashamed of yourself for being so vulnerable–in fact, it’s just the opposite.  Stand up and walk tall, because you’re actually way ahead of the game.  If you don’t believe me, check out this inspiring TED talk on shame that Ms. Brown gave after her TED talk on vulnerability became an internet sensation.  (I’ve included that one below, in case you’d like to see both.)

Thanks to my friend Hollis for turning me on to this video today, of all days, when I really needed it.  After feeling like an ass for over-baring my soul lately, and feeling like a total failure for the fact that nothing–both at home and on the job front–seemed to be working right now, this talk helped remind me that yes, I am on the right path.

I hope these TED talks help remind you that you are, too.

So I’ve begun to think that one of the reasons we’re having such a hard time with marriage these days is because we put so much of our time and energy into our kids.  And now that children have moved from the periphery of the family to the center, there’s not a whole lot of time and energy left over for our relationships.

And I don’t know about you, but when I’m overextended and exhausted, the last thing I feel like doing is cuddling up to my honey bunny. What I want most is some alone time.  A few seconds of peace and quiet, with nobody asking me for anything.

On the days when things are going well with the kids, I look forward to hanging out with Ken once the kids are asleep.  But if I’m fried…well, let’s just say it ain’t gonna happen, my friend.

This is why I don’t really write about sex in this blog.  Because I firmly believe that if things are going shitty with your kids or your spouse, you’re not going to want to hit the sheets–you’re going to want to hit the road.

And if you want to hit the road, you’ve got much bigger problems than Viagra’s going to fix.

But I digress.  The reason I’ve been focusing so much on our relationship with our kids lately is because if things are off-kilter with your kids, they’re probably going to be off-kilter in your marriage as well.  And vice, versa.  (For more on this, read David Code’s wonderful book To Raise  Happy Kids, Put Your Marriage First).

Which is why I’ve been focusing so much on the kid-part of the equation lately.  Because if your kid’s off yelling in a corner somewhere, it’s not looking so good for that quiet little chat with your spouse, now is it?

Pretty cute, huh? On the bright side, my kids are pretty tight when they’re not fighting.

It’s also my belief that if things are going smoothly in one part of the family, those good feelings will rub off on other family members as well.  Meaning that if things are going well with your spouse, it’ll positively impact your relationship with your children.

Basically, I see us as a big ‘ole family-style ecosystem.  We all affect each other way more than we think, with our kids being geniuses at picking up our true moods no matter what kinds of words are coming out of our mouths.  Which is why my kids start acting up when I’m freaking out.  And when Ken and I are fighting?  Oh, yeah.

So if we’re going to reboot our marriages, I think we’ve got to reboot our relationships with our kids as well.  Because the bottom line is that we’re all affecting each other way more than we realize.

At least that’s my belief.

What do you think?

Me, freaking out. What a surprise.

So how many times have you gotten angry–I mean really pissed–at your spouse?  And how many times have you yelled at him, demanding that he change, that he do this instead of that, that for the love of God he stop driving you crazy.

Well, if you’re human, I’m guessing it’s happened at least once.  If you’re like me, it happens at least once a week.

Cause it’s tough to balance marriage with work with house with young kids–it’s a hell of a lot of work, and before you know it, you’re falling behind in something.  And when you’re feeling pressured, it’s just so darn easy to snap, now isn’t it?

But of course we don’t snap at our boss, or at that rude clerk who really could’ve used some nicer manners.  We usually wait till we’re at our edge, and then we snap at the people we love the most.  Like our kids.  Or our spouse.

Sound familiar?

Don’t worry, you’re not alone.  We all get pissed beyond belief.  But I’m here today to tell you that your anger isn’t a bad thing, like you’ve probably been led to believe–it can actually good thing.

Because it’s a giant clue that something in your life is off track.  It’s a neon sign telling you that something needs to change.

And here’s the real kicker–it’s probably not your marriage.

Yeah, you read that right.

Your marriage–or your spouse–might just be the most obvious target when something’s getting your down.

In her memoir This Is Not The Story You Think It Is, Laura Munson dealt with a nightmare most of us hope we don’t ever have to face: her spouse telling her that he no longer loved her and wanted a divorce.

But Munson didn’t believe it.  After nearly two decades with her hubby, she knew her spouse better than he knew himself.  And she realized that he wasn’t unhappy with her–he was unhappy with his life.

So instead of giving in and allowing him his divorce, she decided to give him time to get his shit together. She took care of the kids and the house and let him focus on figuring what the hell he needed to do to make himself happy.

Now, I’m not suggesting you do anything this crazy.  I’m just pointing out that a lot of times we blame our spouse for our misery when it could be 800 other zillion things going on in our lives.  Like a sucky job, or the realization that we would’ve been happier as a veterinarian, not a salesperson.

Or maybe your crisis isn’t even anything that big. Maybe you’re just exhausted from having been up with a sick child for the past 3 nights, or you’re wishing you’d completed that big report when you still had a little wiggle room instead of waiting for the last minute.

Hey, I get it. I’ve been there, and I continue to be crazed more times than I can count.  And the one thing I’ve learned while writing this blog is that most of the time I’m pissed off at Ken, it has more to do with me than with him.

Like today, when I flipped out at 4:oo p.m. because I was stuck at home with a sick kid and had fucked around all weekend when I’d wanted to use that time to catch up with work.  I wasn’t mad at Gabriel, of course–the poor kid’s got croup, and is just miserable. But there was something about getting back from the doctor, then picking up Nico from school and having to balance one bouncing-off-the-wall kid with one sick kid that pushed me over the edge.  Especially since I hadn’t taken care of my own stuff over the weekend.

After I’d stomped around for a bit and made life unpleasant for my poor work-from-home spouse, I finally realized what was really getting me.  I was mad at myself for always putting my priorities on the back burner, for telling myself I’d finish this report after we got back into the swing of school, after we settled in with our new sitter, after I answered the latest batch of email, after I completed the last round of school meetings, after I cleaned the house, etc., etc., etc..  Which was fine until Gabriel got sick right after Nico, meaning that I lost a week and a half of work, and I suddenly found my back up against a wall.

Was this Ken’s problem? Absolutely not.  And it certainly wasn’t Gabriel’s, either, for being sick.

It was mine, for not prioritizing better in the first place, and for leaving my most important projects on the back burner.  It was mine for continually giving away my time and energy to people who don’t even ask for it, and for putting their needs ahead of mine more times than I can count.

Thankfully, Ken knows me well enough to know that when I’m flipping out at him, I usually need a time out to go get my shit together and figure out what’s really going on.  And thankfully, it doesn’t usually take too long of a time out for me to realize it’s not Ken I’m mad at, it’s myself.

The trick, of course, is figuring out what’s important to you before you erupt like Mt. Vesuvius.  Meaning that you know what your values and priorities are so that you’re not compromising them on a daily basis, like so many of us were encouraged to do in order to be a “good” kid at home or at school.  And like so many of us spend our lives doing–at least until we break down and have a midlife crisis, like Laura Munson’s husband.

Let’s figure out what’s important to us now, before it’s too late.

Take-action challenge: What are your top values?  Priorities?  If you haven’t identified them lately, take a few minutes to write down your top 20 values.  (In fact, you might want to do this every few years, as our values often change.)  Once you’ve identified your top 20, take a few more minutes to whittle them down to your top 5.  Then ask yourself whether or not you’re living these values, or whether you’ve strayed off course somewhere.

If you get stuck, use this list of values (compiled by Steve Pavlina) to help you get started.

Super-duper take-action challenge: Once you’ve done this exercise, sit down and discuss your findings with your spouse.  This is a great way of making sure that you’re headed in the same direction.  If not, it’s a great way to address any potential problems now, before they spiral out of control.

Good luck!

Spend 20-30 minutes of one-on-one time with your kid, doing whatever it is they want you to do.  Seriously.  Get down on their level (close to their Legos, Barbies, books, games or whatever it is that they’re into) and let them decide what you’re going to play.  Then let them decide what happens.

All you have to do here is follow their lead and listen.  Be present.  That’s it.

What you don’t want to do is take over the game, or try to “win.”

Your job is just to be there.  This is how you reconnect (and repair your relationship).  According to the books where I found this nifty little trick, this simple one-on-one time with your kid is enough to repair most wounds.

Meaning that it’s a great tool to use when

• you’re trying to fix things with your kid after you’ve yelled at them, been mean to them or otherwise evil in any way (hey, no judgement. I’ve been there!),
• you’ve messed things up by forgetting their game, missing a meeting, etc.,
• your kid is in the middle of some kind of transition/challenge and needs some extra TLC
• your kid’s acting out because he or she hasn’t seen you enough lately
• ________ (insert challenge of your choice).

Don’t believe me?

Try it.

Do this once or twice a week, and you should see some pretty noticeable changes.  Child psychiatrist Stanley Greenspan recommends 30 minutes every day, which would be great in a perfect world, but I don’t think most of us have that kind of time, what with work and our other responsibilities, not to mention our other children.  But we do already have enough parenting guilt on our plates, so the last thing I want to do is add to that mess.

So I asked my therapist friend Scarlet for advice.  “You don’t have to do floortime every day,” she said.  “Once or twice a week, maybe.  Try using it after something big’s happened, and you feel like you need to reconnect.”

Which is what I’ve been doing lately.  And each and every time, it’s saved my ass.  Of course, my main challenge is the simple act of remembering this trick once I’ve blown my top.  Because when things get as bad as they’ve been around our house lately, the last thing I’m doing is thinking clearly.

But I tried it with both Nico and Gabriel this week and it worked.  I spent some serious time getting mauled playing Legos with Nico, then getting creamed while playing LaCrosse with Gabriel.  When a little person doesn’t have a lot of control in their lives, I’m guessing that it feels pretty damn good to clobber their parents once in a while.

Does that mean that we’re completely back on track?

Hell, no.  I’m still trying to figure out this whole damn parenting thing.

But at least we’re moving forward again.  And that has to be the best news of the day.

Your challenge–should you choose to accept it–is to spend 30 minutes of one-on-one time with your child this weekend, doing whatever it is he or she wants you to do.  

Let me know how it goes, will you? I’ll be pulling for you!

So even though school’s finally started, I’m still not getting a break. Nico’s already home sick from school, Gabriel’s only been in preschool for 2.5 hours this first week and I’m quickly losing my mind.

The funny thing about all this is that last week I wrote a post over at Ed News Colorado about how tricky all these school-year transitions are for me. In that post, I lamented losing our old nanny (who you might remember as The Amazing Carissa) and talked about how sad I was feeling that my younger son was starting preschool.

I got all sorts of emails after that post telling me how happy people were that their kids had started school and they finally had some time to themselves.  And–OK, OK, I’ll admit it–once I finally got over my fears and worries about this most recent round of transitions, I was starting to feel the same way.

Except that I’m still waiting on that free time.

In the meantime, my kids have been acting out like crazy.

Which just reinforces the question I’ve been struggling with lately: Am I fucking up my kids by giving them so much damn attention?

In her book I Feel Bad About My Neck, Nora Ephron talks about how much parenting has changed since her kids were young, and laments that parenting has now become a verb (54).  I found this idea echoed in  Pamela Haag‘s Marriage Confidential, when she suggests that in the past generation, kids have moved from the periphery of the family to the center (or, as she says, “from folding chair to throne” [114]).

Now, I’d go a step further and say that, in this day and age, parenting has become

a) a full-on contact sport,

b) one of today’s most cutthroat competitions,

c) totally frigging crazy-making

d) all of the above.

What do you think? Do you buy the idea that our kids have become the center of the universe, or does just hearing this irritate the hell out of you?

I have to say that for along time, I wasn’t so sure where I stood on this issue.  Like a lot of parents out there, I wanted to raise my kids differently than I was raised.  Namely, I wanted to teach them to honor their ideas and feelings, not to mention who they were in the world.

Then my kids started acting like total heathens/pre-teens, making me wonder what the hell’s in store for me once they really do hit puberty. (Although, in all fairness, I can trace at least some of this behavior back to the Captain Underpants books Nico got for his birthday.  In the past two months, I’ve heard 8,765,347 jokes about poop and pee, most of which were delivered during mealtimes.  God almighty.)

And then, of course, they really started acting out during a recent trip to see Ken’s family–you  know, one of those times it suddenly becomes insanely important that you kids act somewhat normal and show at least some manners.

So I’ve been kind of wondering what the hell I need to do to dial things back a bit.  I mean, I realized a long time ago that losing Carissa and starting with a new sitter could be a bit tricky for them, as could the start of school.  So I was doing my best to cut them some slack. Right? Right?!

Except that they weren’t cutting me any slack.  If anything, they were just acting up more.  Which kept building in insanity until we took the kids out to dinner to celebrate Gabriel’s first day of preschool and had the worst. dinner. out. ever.   Sobbing, crying, temper tantrums, you name it.  In fact, by the time we made it back to the car, I swore I’d never again take them out to dinner! No sirree!  Not until they learned how to behave!  Not until they learned some manners!

In short, I lost my shit.

My head started spinning around like Linda Blair in the Exorcist.  And it didn’t stop.  For days.

Know what I’m talking about?

(Oh, come on.  I know I’m not the only one.)

Now, the good news is that I finally got my act back together and did my best to repair it to my kids (I’ll explain how in my next post).  The bad news is that the whole damn thing made me realize that we parents are probably the first people to break our children’s hearts.

Which is one hell of an awful realization.

So that’s where I was at the other day when I saw a woman tell her son “great job!” for sitting down.

Let me clarify that she didn’t ask him to sit down, nor was she giving him any kind of directive.  He simply told her that he was going to sit down, she said OK, and then when he sat down, she said “great job!”

Now, I’m not trying to get on this woman. I’ve done all sorts of similarly ridiculous stuff, and it’s probably why my kids feel the need to tell me every single thought that crosses their mind.  All the damn time, which is why I’ve been craving so much silence lately.

All of which has made me wonder: at what point does such validation become too much?

At what point does all this attention we’re giving our children become too much?

And: at what point does the incessant attention that our children expect in return become too much?

Which leads me back to the title of this post–that free-range parenting isn’t looking so bad to me lately.  I never wanted to become the helicopter parent I’ve become, but I’m not so sure I’d let my 9-year-old ride the subway by himself in New York, either.

Please, for the love of God, tell me there’s something in the middle.

Anyone?  Anyone??

Update: After I posted this, a friend wrote in to say that she didn’t think free-range parenting was the answer, either.  But she did think that maybe what made the movement look so appealing was just getting some downtime from your kids…which, the more I thought about it, made sense.  So maybe that’s the take-away piece from the whole free-range/helicopter parenting debate–that there’s got to be a place in between where we can still connect with our kids, but also get that much-needed downtime.

On a related note, I’m still obsessed with this godawful idea of Supermom and everything that’s expected from us parents these days.  So look for more on that one soon, because I can’t seem to get it out of my head.