For the Days When You Want to Give Your Kid Away

If you are a parent you have had those days when you want to put your kid on the curb with a sign that says "FREE!".
Last week I noticed it was one of those days. For weeks actually, I have been getting mad at Bronson when he pouts whines, screams, resists, says no to everything and baby talks. I have been resenting him, resisting him, making him wrong and telling him to stop or go away. I get angry with myself and snap at my other sons and husband. Sometimes, "for sanity's sake", I avoid him and let him watch for TV an unknown amount of hours just to keep him occupied and me from blowing a gasket.
But this is definitely bordering on "Bad Mom" tactics. I end up making myself wrong for really not liking him. I am surviving my son, and myself as a mother.
As a result, I have a sullen, upset, defiant, stubborn and argumentative 4 year old who does not feel understood at all. I have frustration, anger, resentment, exasperation, and guilt. The ugly truth, the one that has me toss and turn at night, is that I have relationship with my son and family that I am not proud of.
And how I occur to myself about this (meaning it's not all his fault...I have something to do with this too), if tell the truth on myself, is that I am being overwhelmed and resigned that it could be any other way. This just is the way it is at 4! I give up! This is so dis-empowering and totally not what I am committed to!

When I looked at what was missing, like what could I put in that would really make a difference, I saw that me being peaceful, curious, and creative would really be inspiring.
And if I were being peaceful , curious and creative, wow…that would make a lot of joy available, connection and fun!

So I created the possibility of being Curious and Fun…like Curious George!
And what happened was: Bronson and I are sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast and once again he doesn’t wanna to eat. He is pouting, frowning, hunched over and looks like he is trying to melt his oatmeal with a laser stare.
Normally I would sigh, get frustrated or even angry and just tell him to EAT! He would complain. I would tell him to stop complaining, he would cry out or holler or even scream. Many meals time result in tears. Eventually he might eat ONE spoonful, I would give up and he would be eating a snack half an hour later. Groan...I know... totally doesn't work!
But this time I came from being curious and fun, Curious George! I saw him pouting and I asked him if he would like his oatmeal with some "really radical raisins" he said “ ba ba” with a ferocious frown.
Instead of getting mad about the baby talk, I just asked “ Bronson would you like to be small again like a baby?”
He said, “Yes I just want to be small and crawl under the table.” Still pouting.

Something shifted inside me and opened up. I was able to just be with him.I got that. I would like to be small and crawl under the table sometimes too! A lot of times in fact.
So I said “ I totally understand that Bronson, you would like to be small and go under the table... I really get that. You know what? Me too! “ He looked at me skeptically.
“Would you like to do that now? Let’s get under the table!”

So I crawl under the table and when he saw I was serious, he drooped down off the chair and joined me with that scrunched up face that is trying to be mad but can’t help a little bit of a puckered up smile…
And we curl up together under the table. We marvel under there, it is a whole new world and talk about painting like the Cistine Chapel…and I grab his Spiderman slipper heads and make them talk to each other. Suddenly he is giggling and I am laughing and when our exchange student came in she asks, “What are you doing under there?" And Bronson says “Having fun!”. I feel like a hot fudge sundae and his little voice is like sprinkles on top. I see in my bright and shiny four year old's face that that is all he ever wants, is fun and attention.
That moment at breakfast instead of being frustrating and forgettable, became wonderful and memorable.
And that would never have been possible if I hadn’t chosen being inspired and invented a new possibility of being Curious George. There is a shift we all have the opportunity to make when we realize we might be coming from an "Authoritorian" style of parenting and choose and "Inspired" parenting style instead. We don't have to, and sometimes it is not appropriate (when a child is about to walk into traffic a big loud NO! is effective) but there is that choice in our everyday life, and we really do "have the time", because it is our time, and our life and we get to say what is important.

After I began to get a little cramped under the table we got up and he sat back down, and Bronson promptly ate his oatmeal all up. No struggle. He just needed the space to be who he wanted to be and be gotten.
I love my Bronson, he is definitely a keeper!

I wish everyone many moments of being inspired by your kids!
Zen Honeycutt

WHOOPING for Joy!

It’s late afternoon at an ocean campground back bay in Connecticut and my three boys are bouncing with excitement to catch crabs. Armed with two borrowed fishing poles and hunks of chicken parts, we approach the brackish bay. The water is rising and is rushing towards us, dark, murky and sometimes oily on the surface. If I were a crab I would not live in these waters, but apparently many are not so choosy, as a couple across the bridge haul one, then two at a time, out of the water and onto to muddy shore, prying them off their net and fish carcass with a stick. My boys holler with excitement at their catch and the couple nod with contained appreciation. Oh, how we lose our passion as adults….what if we hooted and hollered too? What if we expressed our delight and joy, not with wide smiles and steady nods, but free jiggles and hollers and giggles? Some would want to lock us up, that’s what.

It is jiggle and wiggle time for my boys and they don’t care who knows. The lines get cast with relish, and little pulls delight at first, until they figure out it’s irksome tiny fish that cannot be caught in our net. Then brows furrow and they become the enemy. Soon, both have heavy pulls on their poles and crabs are suspected to be taking a ride and nibbling on the chicken wings that are being ever so slowy reeled into direction of the current. They must not suspect the bait is alive, so one must reel in mighty slow. They only eat dead things, and the stinkier the better…and I eat these crabs with relish, these rotten carcass bottom feeders…echh.

Regardless of their gruesome habits and murky dwelling, they are our prey and we hunt. I swoop and scoop with manly aggression and help my boys catch two good sized blue clacking crabs. Whoop! Whoop!
Regardless of whether I am a Mom or "girl" and I would rather be having my heels pumiced with cucumbers on my eyes and hands massaged in to blissdom…I am here and I and gutting the fish that are up next for bait. Because if Daddy is not available then I get to be the Mom and the Dad.And it's awesome.

I used to resist being the Mom and yet embrace it as the ultimate excuse for everything. I would get stressed and snippy at the mere suggestion of adding one more thing to my day. No way, I had enough going on! You were Craaaaazaaay if you invited me to do something that required a late night or early morning. I might even get upset and offended by your request, as if you were supposed to mind-read my level of overhwhelm. Even more offensive if it was near my kids naptime. Take three boys on a cross country flight to be with family as the sole parent and CAMP with them alone??? Bonkers. A tight lipped shake of the head with no eye contact is what you would get.

Yet, now I am doing it. Because I am crazy like that about adventure. And I am crazy about my boys. I realized I am also way more interested in making choices based on what I am committed to: adventure, courage, creativity and contribution, than I am my reasons like “it’s too hard” or “too much” or “it’s just not my thing” or “I don't know how”. I am more interested in my commitments, not because it looks good to accomplish crazy ass things that impress, (although they might) but because they MATTER to me.

Creating crabbing adventures, cooking them over the smoldering campfire, breathing in the sultry smoke and salty steam, eating the crabs to the glow of the citronella candle and peeps of the frogs and crickets…creating these unforgettable moments when the boys taste the crab for the first time, that THEY caught, and smile and rub their bellies with enthusiastic fervor, these moments are beyond any reason. They are created from nothing except a love of adventure and joy of self expression.
Whoop whoop! Here's to summer adventures!