At least you're not frozen here for eternity...
A lot of these tips sound great in theory, right? And anything is possible when we’ve got our wits about us. But what about those times when we’re really just about to fall into despair? (Or have already fallen?)
I confess: I’ve called Shelly and said, “Help! I feel like a hypocrite–here I am writing and teaching about parenting stuff and I’m about to lose it myself!”
Granted, I may feel more challenged with some of my child’s ways than other parents do with their children. But I think many of us at least once in a while find ourselves at–or over–the brink of despair when we most need energy to cope.
I’m learning that “losing it” can be an important part of the process. Certainly, if it’s happening, it’s part of the process no matter what. I’ve talked recently about How to be in charge and still stay connected, as well as Imagining ahead of time how things will go.
Now I want to say a few words about what to do with some of our own more unsettling emotions, like despair.
The other night I was doing my usual juggling act of trying to clean the kitchen, feed my son, and not forget to feed myself (he eats so few things our dinners are almost always separate). It had been a hard day, and I was trudging along, doing what needed to be done.
As occasionally happens, he complained loudly about the food. That did it. I just didn’t have anything else in me to respond. So, I did what I’ve watched others do, but never had the nerve to do myself: I went limp. I said, “I can’t deal with this.” And I went into my room, closed the door and lay down.
Wow–what a moment. For once, I didn’t “make it okay.” It made me realize how much energy I spend all the time trying to “make it okay,” and here I was feeling not at all okay. And my son knew it.
After a few minutes, my depletion began to ebb. I went back into the kitchen, obviously still feeling down. My son came to me and took my hand. He looked me in the eye. “Thank you for dinner,” he said. Then, “Thank you for EVERYTHING.”
Wow. I still tear up when I think of this. It meant so much to me.
In retrospect, I think it was my choosing to show him the depths of my despair that led him to, completely of his own accord, offer up such an amazing display of gratitude. My actions told him, “I have limits. I need appreciation. I can’t operate indefinitely without rest and replenishment.”
I feel as though I could write reams about this. I also have other examples of sharing strong emotions consciously (and not-so-consciously…though we can learn from those, too!) that I’ll share in future entries.
What do you do when you’re feeling despairing? I’d love to know–please tell me in the comment box below.
Warmly,
Jill
"Clearing my mental and emotional clutter has created 'space' to live and parent more consciously, with greater awareness and focus. My children deserve the best version of me possible."
Catherina Simones, 
I agree with Christee, I think its good to be honest wiht our kids, they are not stupid and can pick up on our feelings very quickly, from a very young age. In future you should be more open wiht your feelings and you may be surprised at how your childern react poitively to them,
Good luck, i welled up too "when he said thanks for everything"
Christina
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