The Power of We

It was just not working. I felt defeated, worn out, stressed out and put out. I was resentful and regretful. I wanted out. Out of being a den Mom to 10 rambunctious boys.
We all have areas of our life that don't work.
I have a couple of them. I have many that do work, I love my husband, kids, home, life etc....
but there are a few areas that just seem to repeatedly suck and I will admit that. Because I have learned that only when I am able to admit it, does something begin to change. If I hide it like a neat little package with poo inside, then no one can see it, including me, and it gets ignored. No one, including me, cleans it up.

So I admitted it. I had a meeting with the parents of my den and laid it out there. If it kept going like this I was probably going to quit or or dismiss some boys, not like a threat, but just because it was so unmanageable.I let them know I am totally committed.....it just wasn't working this way, it couldn't go on. And I knew they would wonder...well what the heck are YOU doing that has them being so unruly. In fact, one couple pretty much implied that. And I didn't take it personally. I could totally get that, from their perspective, 3-4 adults, 10 kids...Come on! How could it be that bad?

Um, it could. And yes I have something to do with it. Yes I am willing to change it up. But I need partnership. I need us to take it on. I need this not to be a YOU or ME problem, but a WE solution. 100% leader, 100% parent and 100% cub scout.

So we created that. I made a Code of Conduct Contract. I wrote out all the unacceptable behavior and had the parents read it to their kids and sign the code of conduct. We created partnership between the parents, kids and leader. I asked the parents for their input and took it. One had her son, an almost Eagle Scout come and do uniform inspection and be on Time Out watch (which was not needed). She got a Wolf Totem to hold as a talking stick and created a sticker chart. The parents stepped up and helped out during the meetings too, we divided up the kids and conquered the disrespectful behavior. Normally I would do everything myself....but as that wasn't working...it was time to take it from Me to We and man...what a miraculous difference!

The boys were alert, attentive, respectful, raising their hands, engaged and awesome. It was dreamy. They felt proud of themselves and so did we.

I am looking at how I can apply this to my life...going from the single focus of me to the Power of We...in the area of messes around the house ( chore charts from Cub Scouts sure do help!) and genetically modified foods impacting our health. How am I trying to do it all myself and what is not working about that? What can I put in that would have powerful partnership show up? I am going to have to give up doing it all myself, thinking up of all the good ideas, being the leader for everything and having it go my way ( which is the right way of course). It's not about me, it's about WE.

I felt that giving up relief yesterday when I offered ideas at a planning meeting to label GMOS. They wanted to do other things or call it something different. I reminded myself that this is not about MY idea, it is about OUR nation having food that is labeled truthfully, real and healthy. I felt wonder and freedom when I opened up my vision of the future to their perspective, their contribution and our common goal.
I gave up my fear and controlling reaction... like a black crow flapping and hovering, I let it settle and be still...and saw the power in the people around me instead.

It's time to be authentic in life, time to share what is not working...time to pour our hearts out and be totally vulnerable. Because in that authenticity, we find our humanity, we bond with others, we love ourselves and can be with ourselves and others exactly as we are. There is so much power in authenticity. There is so much power in listening. There is so much power in inviting people to be a contribution to our common purpose. Let people in. The Power of We is wonderful.

I cannot wait to see what we create in working together for our common purpose to label GMOS. It may not look like anything I imagined, but after my experience with my den meeting, I have faith that it will be better than anything we all imagined.

Zen Honeycutt

The Moment it All Changes

I knew this day would come. I didn't expect it to be in the quiet of the night.
I pet my nine year old son's head as I said good night to him. After a weekend away with Daddy alone, camping with the boy scouts, I wanted to reconnect with him and check in. I asked him how everything was, and after a sigh he said "Mom you know how other kids and well, me too...you know how I like Star Wars and Indiana Jones and Star Trek and stuff like that?"
"Yes." I smoothed his hair from his face and remembered how small his head was when he was a bay, like a coconut.
"Well, I just realized I am surrounded by stuffed animals."

"Ohhhh." Here it is. That moment. The line of demarcation between boy and pre-teen. Even at nine, the shift has begun. I see his room as he does and my mouth form a round o.
"Well, what do you think about that Ben?"
"I think maybe I need to give some stuffed animals away."
"Well okay, but you don't need to, whatever you want to do is fine, but nothing is a have to. If you want them, or one or none, that's okay. If you want Star Wars stuff that's okay too. You are growing up aren't you?"
"Yeah." he said almost as wistfully as I felt. My heart aches.
I want to say, No! Don't change, don't grow up. Love stuffed animals! Keep playing with them and making those funny little conversations between them. I don't care of you crash them and have them shoot at each other...just don't grow up.

But I don't. This is about him feeling empowered to bridge the gap between where he is and where he is going confidently. It's not about me and my wish for him to be cute and cuddly for the rest of his life.

"You are becoming a young man. And you are going to go through changes, feelings, body, things you like and don't like will change and that's okay, and you can always talk to Daddy if you don't feel comfortable talking to Mommy. Sometimes a boy likes to talk to a man about stuff too. And I am always here. I want you to know that it is all normal and perfectly okay."
"Okay, well, I am going to get rid of my stuffed animals."
"I just have one request." I whisper.
"What?"
"When you do that, don't say that stuffed animals are for babies or anything okay? Because Bodee and Bronson might still want to have some and feel okay about that."
"Oh I would never do that." He says knowingly.
"I am going to ask them if they want some first and then I am going to just sell them or give them to Goodwill."
"Ok, cool son. And let me know if you want to change your room around, get posters or whatever."
He nods. He is growing up. One day stuffed animals are fun and one day they are not.
Perspective shifts in a moment. Growth happens in a breath.
Change happens as swiftly as a the Santa Ana winds.
I may not be ready, but it's happening. Since it's happening, I might as well roll with it, not make it wrong, not show my sadness but support him in his new path.
I can even see being inspired and excited by his plans to redecorate his room, kiss the stuffed animals good bye and embrace the new Ben.

Zen Honeycutt

The Power of Pinterest

I finally checked out Pinterest a few weeks ago after numerous Facebook posts from a friend that could no longer be denied as intriguing. At first I experienced a dread, another job, I thought I had before me, to fill up my boards with fascinating images that would make me look good.Ha ha. Ugh. And then I just poked around and looked at people's favorite things. There was my quiet friend who is obviously obsessed with male models, my fashion friend who post intricately gorgeous crocheted couture pieces and has renewed my appreciation of fashion, and there were the crafts. Ohhhh... the crafts. There are Moms and crafty ladies out there that are gobsmackingly great at fabulous and quirky crafts. I just dive into board after board of wonderful and simple ideas...and find one board that practically giggles with glee and color. Children crafts and play ideas that I repin one after the other, not to look good for other people at all, but so that I remember to do them.

Today was "My Surprise Thursday" and I never know what I am going to do to surprise myself or my children. Today, after a day of No TV yesterday (that's a whole other blog) I was sure the boys would be glommed onto the TV as much as possible. After almost a half hour of squawky TV in the morning I saw the masking tape sitting on a counter top corner and a memory of a Pinterest post grabbed me and had me marching toward the carpet with purpose. Within several seconds I had begun mapping out a town with masking tape on the carpet. Streets, parking lots and multiple driveways for them to build homes and whatever else they imagine. My boys began turning their head from SpongeBob and asking me what I was doing. Nothing usually brakes the SpongeBob daze. I surprised myself!
The second the episode ended, which was just when I was completing the last driveway, the boys turned the TV off without me asking. They jumped up and spread out around the masking tape lines, figuring out that it was a village and immediately laying claim to real estate on appealing corners. Territorial little buggers.
I set out a few boxes of freshly organized toys (due to No TV day) and they were excited to each get a box that they had sorted and was now exclusively theirs for the next few minutes. They built Lincoln Log restaurants and block homes and even giant spider webs. They played for at least an hour while I cleaned out a closet and several shelves for the incoming exchange student from China we are hosting in a week.

I don't know the person who put that masking tape on her floor and took a picture of it and posted it to Pinterest and never will. She doesn't know that she had something to do with creating delight and giant spider webs in a village of Lincoln Logs and blocks in my home. She didn't know when she posted it that a Mom, somewhere out there, would feel fulfilled and satisfied by having her children playing while she created the space to welcome the daughter she never had into her home and discover a world of adventures in America. She will never know the thrill my children had in pulling it up after the village was demolished and balling up the roads into a big sticky tape ball and throwing at each other, cackling like crazy when it stuck to their hair. She didn't know she might create moments in which three brothers play as best friends.

So this Pinterest that so many view as a waste of time, could be... or it could inspire the best times of your life. All of life is a conversation. We either have a dis empowering conversation about something or an empowering one. Unless you are on morphine or laughing gas, the default one is usually dis empowering. It takes something to really look at what could be empowering about a website where people post a bunch of STUFF. It could be addicting, it could be mind numbing, it could be a huge waste of time....or it could be the best thing you could be doing in that moment and it could change your life and the lives of others.
Otherwise, why do it? Why not do everything as if it is the best thing you will ever do? What could open up? What could you create? It might be art with your kids that you never imagined. It might be a simple craft for a gift a year from now or intricate roadways for your children for the hour. It might be something that surprises you and delights those around you.
And that world is inspiring.
Thank you to everyone who shares creativity in the world. You transform what it means to be alive.

Zen Honeycutt

Challenge and Conflict in Play

It's 7:30 in the morning and my two older boys have already been awake and painting wooden creatures for half an hour. The boys furrow their brows with intent stares at their brightly colored dragon and scorpion as they silently paint with the utmost care and detail. They are creating. Not watching TV, not fighting, not being bored from the days of summer that blend into each other. I am delighted and inspired by my children's immediate excitement to wake up in the morning and paint, to be creative. I wish them a life time of creativity and to support that, I sit beside them and ask them about their creatures. I set aside my suggestions or approval and just ask them about what they are up to. They describe a whole world for their creature and what they can and cannot do in defense and attacking complete with sound effects. I notice that even in their creativity my boys are creating challenge and conflict.

Later after breakfast, two of them play a board game and it is short lived. The 7 year old gets furious that the 3 year old wants to be banker, which is preposterous because the three year old can't add. The 7 year old tries to explain this to him, by challenging him with math facts and the 3 year old ends up screaming and throwing the money in his face. The 7 year old is smug that he won this battle even though the 3 year old storms off and he has no one to play with. Meanwhile, the nine year old plays his legos silently in his room, his challenge is on a galactic scale. He is building a new space ship to overthrow the warlords of his Star Wars galaxy. If anyone comes in his room and bothers him their will be a full scale attack, so we leave him to his plotting and engineering.
The banker issue gets resolved when Bronson wanders back into Bodee's territory, and Bodee who was probably bored with playing alone, welcomes him back and they decide to split up the money and both be their own bankers. They play a new sort of game which involves both of them winning lots of free money.

Later in the afternoon, they suddenly scatter in all directions to play hide and seek and have a short squabble over the rules. I listen for them to work it out and I hear the humanity of their struggle. Someone found someone and then they joined together to go find the other person. When the last one was found by the second one, he objects to the first one using the second one for help. "Not fair!"
My survival instinct was to jump in and ask them to play "Nice Nice."

I realized in that moment, even though I have an instinct and ability to quell the storm, that there was no reason for me to intervene. Boys create challenge, conflict and struggle as part of their play. That IS Nice, or FUN for them. The challenge and conflict is the whole point. Someone chases someone and the other runs. They wrastle, argue or fight off a bad guy, which could be any one of the unsuspecting brothers, and none of it means anything that I, as a female, imagines. It doesn't mean that they don't care and love each other when they are yelling at eachother. It doesn't mean that they are hurt when they are crying. It doesn't even mean that they won't be best friends or good brothers if they scream I hate you. I make that up. They may make that up too, but in most cases, within a minute or two, they are back to playing "Chase the puppy" or "Kill the dragon" from under their pile of sofa pillows without a second thought. It doesn't mean anything to them, it's all part of the game. Boys create challenge and conflict in their play because that is what is fun for them.

It is not fun for Moms, and that's why so many of us feel crazy and exhausted after refereeing for even a few hours of boys playing together. Moms and females have a natural drive for connection, nurturing and safety, so even hearing boys fight threatens our sense of survival. That may be why so many Moms get their kids out of the house to sports and activities...keep 'em busy so they won't fight. The thing is, whatever activity they do, they crave challenge and conflict, if it's in sports, theater or music even, their is the challenge to win, complete something new and the conflict they face is from failure if they don't. We could instead find peace in their challenges and conflict.

Boy are, in fact little men. And the DNA of men has not changed for 10,000 years. Their natural instinct is to play at struggle and conflict so that they may succeed in war and protect us, protect their mother and wives and children. Protect the village. So when they are fighting like wolves over a laundry basket they want to use to push each other around in on the floor, I can instead hear the gears in their brains learning how to negotiate world peace. As they argue over play money, I can listen for the conflict as their growth and development into responsible men who can provide for their family. I can see their struggle to build a tower that keeps toppling, not as something I must intervene to fix, but as a time to observe or inquire what other creative solution they might try and be triumphant in building a city. As challenging as it may be to set aside my natural instinct to intervene, calm and fix things for my boys, I am much more interested in creating a space where my boys are self sustaining and confident. In being present to what I am committed to creating, I find that the less I do in parenting boys during the free play of summer, the more they learn and grow.
The result is that,rather then shushed or shamed, they get the space to expand and to be celebrated.


Zen Honeycutt

I have a understanding of boys that brings me peace and wonder after Allison Armstrong's programs about Understanding Men at www.paxprograms.com. I highly recommend her programs..

Something Special

I hope every parent believes there is something special about their kids, something magical, magnetic and marvelous.
I do.

Ben, my nine year old….I dreamed of him inutero as a laughing blue starfish. He was happy and as soon as he could laugh his laugh filled up the room and your heart with joy and healed you of all worry. He loves the ocean and once said “Mommy did you know that the ocean is where angels go for the birthday parties?”

At four months old, just when the erratic sleep patterns and frequent breastfeeding seemed to drive me to the edge of insanity, I had a dream. He lay in his co sleeper, looked up at me and said without moving his lips, “Thank you Mom, I love you.” It was Mother’s Day when I awoke and he had let me sleep for eight hours straight for the first time.

When the new baby sitter didn’t show up, I mumbled about maybe I could call one of the other ones that responded, and he said “Don’t worry Mom, Minnie will come.” I looked at the list. The last person on the list was Minnie. I had never said her name. I called her and she came and she watched my kids, sometimes insisting not to be paid because she loved them so much, for years. We adore her still.

Ben draws with an imagination that delights. He creates intricate, colorful and bold patterns and adventures with meaning and fun story lines. He won the Art Masters show for two years in a row.

One morning I was concentrating very hard about my upcoming day, selling my natural wellness products, and creating in my head that it would be a “thousand dollar day”. Suddenly at that same moment, Ben shouted from another room, “ One thousand dollars!” I thought I was dreaming…” What did you say Ben?” I called out. He repeated it. I asked why he said that and he said “ I don’t know , it just popped into my head!” I sold a thousand dollars worth that day. He is a very intuitive, compassionate, special and artistic boy.

Bodee, my seven year old…I met before I even had children, when I was in Hawaii, I went to sleep one night and my husband and I had asked the universe if we should have children and we would sleep on it. I had a dream. A boy with black curly hair and beautiful brown eyes looked at me. I heard “ Let me be.” I woke and knew I would have children. The boy was Bodee.

Bodee has a memory that astounds me. He is my GPS. Since he was barely three he would point in the right direction to go to a friend’s house or to find our car in the parking lot. I can depend on him.

Anything he tries, roller blading, drumming, skate boarding, chess, piano, Bodee is good at it immediately. He learned the theme song chorus to several movies like Iron Man, Indiana Jones and Star Wars simply from his father showing him for a few minutes. He loves to learn, to win and to be challenged.

He has something special in front of a film camera too. As an actor, he knows how to turn “it” on. His smile lights up the screen and he delivers what the director wants the first or second time. He is a good sport on the set and is up for anything. He is a very smart, silly and special boy.


Bronson, my three year old…to meet him is to love him. And I am not just biased. Women and girls fawn when they see him. They coo and giggle and pick him up and only let go if they have to. They swing and drag him around like rag doll, patting his head and loving him with all their hearts.

He just KNOWS too…he will bring me a flower when I am sad, and a toy to his brother when he is mad. The other day a worker at my brother’s retreat center was furious at a broken tool and yelled with all his might. Bronson brought him a rock without a word. The worker looked at it and threw it with a yell as hard as he could in the nearby pond. They watched the rock splash in silence and then Bronson said “Now do you fweel bedda?”
“Yeah. I do.” The guy replied. They looked at eachother, breathing, settling, knowing…and then looked back at the pond.

Bronson will not very frequently, do something messy like squeeze out the entire tube of toothpaste into the sink. When I discover it, he will look at me doe eyed. When I tell him that he can’t do that, he looks at me and voluntarily says, “I promise to never ever do that again.” And he doesn’t.Ever. He knows and he means what he says.

When he was 18 months he made a cheerio and fruit loop pattern bracelet for me. When his Mommy and Me teacher saw it, she asked me, “Did you help him?” I hadn’t noticed it, “No.”
“Ohhhhh, good luck with him.” She said with her eyebrows raised…it was a cheerio, fruit loop, fruit loop pattern, A, B,B,A,B,B,A,B,B,A and on…intentionally a consistent pattern…who knows what his talents will be?

Bronson can talk and share imaginative stories beyond his years. He loves to share intricate details of his dreams, his musings and of his imaginary day. He is self expressed and free. He is connected to others and delights in people, hugging during his story telling. Bronson is a very special being of self expression and love. All my children are.

My wish is that every parent take a moment to write down what is special about their children. Upload it “in the cloud” online, so it is always there. Start an email account for them and email it to them. Write an old fashioned letter and put in in a box of memories for them. Tell them before they go to bed.Because we never know if we have another day. Each day is a gift with our children. Someday they will be grown and out of the house and we will miss that something special about them that gave sweetness and love, charm and glory, and zip and vigor to our day.

Zen Honeycutt

The Grass is Greener

The water tastes sweeter here, the rain more gentle and frequent, the dew last longer and the scent of dirt is stronger. The grass is greener with lushness and the air is filled with floral freshness that wakes you up and says "YES!". There is nothing like Connecticut country living.
The hills roll more roundly here and the country roads more curvy. There is an abundance of everything that has you breath deeply more often and sigh...more green, more rain, more song birds and more daffodils that bloom again and again. More acreage, more horses, more stone walls covered in flat minty green lichen. More geese, more morning doves, more wild herbs and more love of good hard work. Maybe it's all the beauty around us or the change of seasons that drive us, whatever it is, New Englander's have more gumption. We are do-it-yourselfer's boot strappin' folk. We don't pay nobody to do something we can do ourselves. The satisfaction is what country living is about.

Doing it all myself has gotten me in a bit of trouble here and there though...a lot of last minute scrambling and projects not quite what I wanted ...and I have been expanding my mindset after living in California for twelve years. I am still a country girl at heart, and I got a dose of fast-walking-New-York-City girl blood in me after ten years of pounding the pavement there, but as a California girl, I learned to slow down, to look people in the eye and say hi and enjoy it. I have learned to connect, create partnership, play nice and work well with others. I have learned that you get more done with a team and yes, honey does work better than vinegar, and no it doesn't always work to get mad when people are late and or do everything myself. California has taught me it's okay to chill and play, to see the abundance and roll in it. To feast my eyes on greenness and not see work, shrubs that need to be trimmed or weeds that need to be whacked, but to see the dew drops and spider webs and marvel at them so long that my knees ache. I am grateful for the shift in my perspective from having lived in New York and California. I see Connecticut as more delightful now, and my gratitude has me be at ease.

Enjoying Connecticut living has me be more quiet now too. There is no air of having to prove something like I take on in California. I can drive for an hour with my Dad and just stare at the trees hugging the roads. I can stain cedar siding with my brother and just enjoy the satisfaction of working together. I can sit by the pond with my Mom and just point to a Great Blue Heron. Everything else is said with a sigh of appreciation. We can just be in Connecticut.

There is something magical in being in nature for the boys too. They hardly fight. They run and play and catch dragon flies and leopard frogs and then fish and throw pine cones at snakes. They interact with nature. They break sticks and dig stuff up. They revel in the stink of Skunk Cabbage and marvel at the glow of a Buttercup flower under their chins. They run with bare feet and fall on gravel and get up with determination. They get dirty and crusty toed. But somehow they seem cleaner than ever. They have to be wrangled into a shower once a week. Their hair is thick and shiny and their skin is rosey and clear. Their shouts of glee when they catch something is worth more than the fee of a summer camp. Their faces of awe when their uncle builds them a tree fort is worth more than their weight in gold. Summer in Connecticut is priceless. I hope you get to experience nature like this often in your life.

Oh Boy! Oh Boy! Oh Boy!

Moments of truth from my boys:

After Bronson, 18 months old screeched and I saw Bodee push him, "Bodee! Don't push him, he's just a baby, be careful!" "He's NOT a baby Mom!" "Yes, he is. " I argue pointlessly. Bodee insists, "NOOOOOOOO he isn't, he just hit me too! He's grown up!"


"Mom, he has one eye." Bodee informs me seriously, about a house guest, right in front of him, who indeed has one working eye..."he's like a Pirate! Cool!"

"First you go left, and then right and right again and then left and then right and the Kendo class is right there." Bodee's directions to Kendo class which were exactly correct after the second time.

"I am a Great Artist!" Ben, who is indeed. And in fact just had his art accepted by the City Hall Young Masters Art Show...where's my bumper sticker?

I could go on and on, I have some real gems in their baby journals as well. My boys fascinate me.
The way Bodee lowers his voice like a threatening machine when he talks about Bakugan ( some kind of Japanese robot toy). The way Bronson can take my lipstick out of my purse and with lips pursed and shooting sounds from his mouth, turn it into a deadly weapon, charging at me with fearless gusto. The way Ben can cut paper out and with tape and a marker, create an intricate 3-D pop up scenes of action, adventure and drama.

Boys are such, well...BOYS. And I have a new found marveling at them.
It wasn't always that way. I wanted just one girl eventually and I got three boys...and I admit I sometimes still wanted them to be girls. When they didn't sit and eat dinner quietly for 5 minutes...when they race through the house and use every possible toy as a weapon... when they make joke after joke about poop in front of the neighbors daughter...

I just wonder WHY? Why can't they behave? Be quiet, be calm for just 5 Minutes????
I got this past weekend in the PAX workshop that boys are miraculous little hunters. They are out to show their power, to test and trial and win at everything.
It's natural for them to confront, to get frustrated, to pout and express anger. It's natural for them to help and accomplish as well. They are wonderful at what they do.If I set them up to win, the struggle will cease.

That's not always easy though, to know ahead of time that the boys might leave the fridge slightly ajar and the baby will get in there and dump my sweet and sour sticky sauce all over three shelves of the refrigerator. Nobody wins there unless you count that he got to win by feeling the sensation of smearing the sauce. I guess that's a sensory win. Hang on, he did win, he conquered the lid on the sauce!

So I have a new challenge...setting them up to win. Thinking ahead, and sometimes I do. Today, while Bodee was taking Kendo class...karate with sticks....getting sweaty charging about a room with a big bamboo stick, yelling Japanese phrases at the top of his lungs, Ben was learning how to draw perspective with Mommy as his teacher, and Bronson was playing with preschool type toys in the kids room. They were all doing what they love, being challenged and winning...and I get to feel like the biggest winner of all, a Mom of three boys who hit the Jackpot!

Follow the Leader...or else.

It is a bright white sun light kind of Sunday afternoon. We are at El Moro Canyon on the coast of Laguna Beach for a hike with dear dear family friends. The hillsides are several shades of silky green, with patches of yellow wildflowers. The ocean breeze tousles my children's hair and they jump and skip in anticipation at the base of the gravel path. I am present to just how incredibly amazing the day is, the air, the location and our friends. Where we live is gorgeous.

My son Bodee is also gorgeous. He is days away from five, on the cusp of Big Boy-dom.
I am not sure it means anything, but he is the sign of Aries (fire sign, like me) and the Chinese horoscope Rooster (like my husband) and we sometimes lovingly joke that he is often like a Rooster with his A** on fire.
He is at the head of our pack of six kids and three adults, jogging in place, calling us forth, electric energy exuding from all pores.
We follow. He runs, he explores. He throws rocks at bugs and smashes snake holes. He is a mighty warrior through and through.
Suddenly, our mildly strenuous hike up the gently sloping hill is interrupted by his scream that is in the realm of a mortally wounded wild boar. Bodee comes running back, away from the head of the group screaming, "They are trying to get in front of me! They are cheating! They are making me not the leader!"

His misery is heart wrenching. He sulks, hangs back and pouts angrily. After some time he can't help himself but to try to be the leader again, but this time he is fierce, muttering under his breath, eyes shifting back and forth, watching his peripherals with paranoid anger. He may be the leader, but he is not having fun. He is ferociously on guard, preventing that scenario from happening again. He will NOT be bested!

I have experienced that human beings have a way of being exactly the way Bodee behaved. I know I have. We strive forth, we explore and conquer. And then somebody does something. Somebody alllways does something..that we don't like. Or something goes the way we didn't want it to go. And that's it. Forget it. Pointless, useless, and definitely less fun.

We may pick ourselves up and try again....ask a different girl to dance, work harder, work longer, and yet that past experience hangs onto us like a paranoid monkey on our back with its hands over our eyes. We can't see what's really in front of us ...which is nothing....we can only see the past experience lurking, looming, breathing down our necks threatening the future we think we are creating. THAT's not going to happen to us again! It's why wars are started and borders are created, politicians filibust and siblings and spouses silently hold grudges for years.

On the way down Bodee runs with his brothers and friends until he collapses in his fathers arms, and Todd carries him the rest of the way. He is tired from leading. He rests and restores himself. Children can sleep anywhere.

In the silence of the easy hike downward, just the sound of gravel crunching softly beneath our feet, we are present not just to nature but to human nature. I am present to how perfect he is, exactly the way he is. His striving to be a leader is an expression, as my mother would say, of life itself.

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com

Multiple Choice Night

Leftovers night as a child was always so disappointing. "Mom, I'm hungry, what's for dinner?" I would hang around her like a starving wolf, pacing behind her as she cooked on the white old fashioned stove.
"Leftovers! " She would say cheerily.

"Awwww leftovers.....my shoulders would droop, I would sigh, and set my face in a frown and get ready to survive dinner. Leftovers always sounded so gross. Left over...the stuff that has been picked through,forgotten for how many days... may be contaminated by peoples germs, who knows? Definitely over cooked,mushy and gross.

Tonight, as I heat left over chicken, peas, and since that may not feed five,
(four of which are of the male gender and may turn out eventually to be scientifically proven to have three stomachs each )...I also heat up left over meat pasta. I have a new appreciation for my mother, who commuted and worked full time as a child care development official for the State of Connecticut, raised three kids, was married for 32 years, and was a partner in a summer resort which often hosted 55 people a weekend. AND came home and cooked great dinners. Leftover night to her was awesome. No cooking from scratch. I get it. As I arrange the food attractively on the plate, I look at the colorful display of assorted foods, it dawns on me.
It's all context.

How about Multiple Choice Night?
Usually dinner is "This is what's for dinner." Period. If they don't like it, they go to bed hungry. Seriously, unless we are eating fiery hot Indian food, we all eat the same thing and if they don't like it, well, too bad. We don't make peanut butter sandwiches ( well, sunbutter in our house) at 8:00 pm (anymore) because someone didn't want to try fish with black bean sauce, rice and bok choy. We aren't mean about it, we don't say it in a hostile voice, that's just the way it is. Sort of like buckling up the seat belt. That's just the way it is.

Because of that, I like to think, my almost 5 year old actually dipped fresh spinach leaves into a green mushy Indian pea sauce the other night and loved it. My 7 yr old jumped up and down with glee when I bought brussel sprouts for him. No kidding. They know that what's so is "This is what's for dinner."
Then we encourage and celebrate when they try something new.
Last week, when Bodee said, eyeing red peppers suspiciously, "Mommy, I don't want to try something new, I only want what I have tried before."

I responded simply, " Bodee, everything you have eaten, was, at one time, new."

He looks confused and then gets it. He sighs and tries it. He lits up with delight when he likes it!

Tonight we have a special surprise. Like a buffet, they will get to do something they never usually do for dinner, they will have a choice...it's Multiple choice night. They get the power to chose and it's an empowering context for everyone...something to look forward to rather than survive. Yea! Dinner!

Have any other ideas for jazzy names for leftover night?

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com

Cut it out! Knock it off! Stop it!

" Cut it out! Knock it off! Stop it!"
My husband half chuckles. He "knows" he should be telling him to stop, but he's so cute he laughs. Bodee is near naked, besides his Spiderman underwear at the breakfast table, and he is standing on the chair doing a spontaneous dance.....then he turns and points his butt at us and waggles it with glee.
Todd's command is ineffective and it is not until he almost tips the chair over that Bodee stops himself, sits down and eats his eggs.

What comes to mind is the perfectly behaved Chinese kids I often see at the huge round tables at restaurants, silently and politely having dim sum with their families. Meanwhile, my kids are laughing, tickling each other under the table,and dangling their noodles in front of their faces before slurping them up with relish. The little voice in my head says...I am half Chinese...what happened with my kids?

"That's what's wrong with America," some may say...."Parent's are not disciplining their children. They let them run wild and act all crazy at the dinner tables, let 'em get away with anything and then before you know it they are getting locked up."

Yeah, yeah, judge as you will. Tonight we are laughing at the dinner table. We enjoy our children's songs and creative play with their food as long as they are eating. We all hold hands and look each other in the eyes as one of the boys leads our prayer, and then we say in unison " God is great, God is good, and we Thank you for our food, AMEN-ies!" Sometime the baby claps after we pray.

It's a moment of unity, gratitude and grounding.
I don't care if Bodee is not dressed tonight. I don't care if he is dancing once in a while. The family meals are a time to connect, and let's face it, a 5 year old communication skills consist predominately of imaginative play. They are still working out what a conversation is. Mostly his play with friends comprises sounds of battle ships shooting,light sabers swooshing and high pitched cartoon characters saying " Oh Noooo! he's gonna get me"...and then a deep voice booms "I'll save you!"
So for him to tell a story, do a dance, eat his french fries like airplanes and waggle his butt now and then ...well, it's an example to me of freedom and fun as a family.

The real kicker is in not comparing my kids to other kids. I find that it's automatic...and if I am not careful I can make it mean something..my kid dances half naked at the table at home, and out, their kids are quiet, our kids are hiding under the table cloth, shrieking, and I think one just ate a fried noodle off the floor....I could make that mean that I am a lenient, lazy Mom and they are hoodlums. I could. And I would have some pretty good evidence according to some.

Or I could chose a more empowering context, an empowering perspective, if you will. I could choose to see that we are living life, our kids are free to dance, to waggle, to giggle. They are fully self expressed and create laughter, love and fun.

Manners are good too, and for the really important times and places we empower them with those tools...but getting caught up in what they are doing means something about us as parents...is a no win situation.
They are kids.We are parents. For the most part, if they are having fun, so are we.
And if we are having fun, so can they.


Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com

Let's Get it Done!

I am sitting in the office of a director of a major hotel in Irvine. She is savvy business women who has graciously welcomed time with me to discuss Zen's Purple Garden. On the cork board behind her is a post card that stands out "Do or Don't. There is no TRY." I comment how I like the post card. I am a firm believer in committing to something in life, or not, and following through. She agrees and shares about aspects of her job that require following through, even when you don't want to. We get that we honor deadlines, do what we say, commit. We exchange a look of recognition of someone who has integrity, someone who is trustworthy.

Later, I see the news. Obama has declared about health care "Let's get it done!"
I agree. I don't know all the details of the reform, but I get that it is a step forward, not perfect, not without gaps, but a step forward. I do get his commitment to the best possible bill with "what's so" right now. As I watched clips of the health care conference last week I sighed with exasperation at the antics of the opposing members, turning the conference into a battleground of analogies and jabbing words versus honoring the time carefully created to CREATE.

As a Mom and business person, as a wife creating a life with my husband of ten years, I am constantly getting things done. I am doing doing doing. There are days in which I take my often protesting, screaming baby in and out of the car seat, bringing my older boys to school, to errands, grocery shopping, to play dates or doctors, over twelve times. And that's just the car seat, that's not the highchair or diaper changing table. I bend, lift, squat, clean, reach, scrape food, wipe butt, sweep, scrub, cook, blot, dab, put away, wash, fold, pack, remind, direct, ask, command, walk, pick up, drop off, console, cuddle, pat, tuck, dress and hug, countless times during the day. I get it Done! Moms do.

And yet with all that doing, I rarely take time to think about who I am being...what is my experience of myself? Who am I to my children? To my husband? Do they enjoy being around me? Does my husband really look forward to coming home? Does he just like to come home to get away from work? Or to be with Me?

When I can take my mind off auto pilot and stop just doing doing doing...I look into their eyes and get what all the doing is about. What REALLY matters. And that's not what I am doing for them. It's who I am being with them.

Tonight, my husband looks at me with gratitude and sweetness in his eyes and requests that my sons tell me that I am amazing after a good dinner and bonding conversation, ( I love him:). My 4 year old looks at me and says "Momma, you are really really really really really reeeeeeeeeeally amazing!", and I get that it's not because of the cooking, picking up an dropping off, cleaning, packing lunches or bedtime tucking in. Being there and doing those thing is great, the health care conference was a good idea, but who I am being, who they are being about it, makes all the difference in the world.

When I let Bodee help cook and guide his hand gently, even when he makes a mess, or when I commit to being on time to drop off and pick up and I am, with a peaceful smile, (huge breakthrough for me, I used to always be late)...or when I hum lullabye, even when I am dog tired, and Thank God for all the beautiful things in nature, for my boys, with love and gratitude in my off key song...being patient and trustworthy, being love...I have a feeling that that might be what he appreciates so much.
Or it could be that I get what really matters to him and I buy him a pack of gum now and then...who knows.

My point is Getting it Done is great. Let' s do that. But let's also think about who we are being please, Congressmen and women. What are you creating and who are you being about that? People's lives are on the line and this mother cares about people having access to health care to take care of their families, and be healthy, now.
Thank you.

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com

Presidents and Packs

It is almost dinner time, I am cooking, and Ben, my 7 year old and Bodee, almost 5 are playing with red clay at the family table, several feet from me. Bronson, 16 months, is padding about the kitchen in his bare feet. Ben and Bodee are chattering to eachother when I catch this part of their conversation:
"Bodee, if you do nice things for people, you could be President of America, you know, like Obama."
Bodee says with a sigh, "Naaaah, I don't want to be President of America, I want to be President of the Universe."
"No, Bodee you can't be President of the Universe." Ben says decidedly,and perhaps not wanting to hurt his little brother's feelings, he adds quickly, " Well, actually in your imagination you can."
"Well, ok I'll be President of America. I'll be a Daddy too."
"Yeah!" Ben says encouragingly " If you are a Daddy that's like being President of your own house. You can do that too!"
"Yeah, I'll be President of my own house too." Bodee says confidently.
"Yeah me too." Ben says excitedly.

I stir the potatoes and smile.
The me of my twenties, the Zen who was Xena the Warrior Princess for Halloween and stomped down Broadway in downtown Manhattan in a fake bear skin cape, with a shrill but triumphant war cry and fist in the air, would cringe and spit at the very thought of the man being THE President of the household. "NO, we should be EQUALS by all accounts" my warrior princess would growl.

Ceasar Millan from the Dog Whisperer, has had an impact on the perspective of that former twenty something year old. Watching a few of his shows and getting how it is the behavior of the leader of the pack that needs to change, has altered my current perspective. It is confusing for the children, or our "pack" to see two bickering "leaders of the pack" in the house at the same time. It is a child's natural drive to push the limits, to test the boundaries. They test the two leaders and see if they can divide and conquer. If there is one leader, they feel safe and can focus on play, growing and learning.

There was a moment when I got this, and saw how exhausted I have been from trying to be the leader of the pack, or at least co-leader ALL THE TIME. This results in cranky, screaming kids, a dishonored and withdrawn husband and me being frustrated and righteous...you know, because we are humans, in a human family...that's just what happens sometimes.
That moment was freedom for me in my relationship with our "pack". I Get to Give Up being the leader of the pack when my husband is home. I can let go of control, I can breathe. I can trust he will take care of all of us....and our children can too.
That doesn't mean that I don't have opinions and input about how we parent, but each choice is a learning experience for us rather than a struggle. We are a team creating together rather than a pack of dogs fighting over turf.
As I imagine my sons as Presidents, I chuckle inside as it occurs to me that that is exactly why we created the names Ben, Bronson and Boden instead of Bodhi for our second son...Boden is distinguished and could easily, phonetically, be "President Boden". Solid.
I see that no matter what their names, they will be Presidents, of something, most definitely of their lives, because they say so, because they are leaders.

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com