what is it with needing space? and a space to have that space.
i'm sitting out on my porch and the kids and their friends are playing nicely inside. currently no one is yelling, no one is even being that noisy, but i can feel them. i can feel the potential. that while all is well now, at any moment, all could all fall apart into a chaotic, loud mess that will require my intervention.
i love my kids, i do. they're smart and interested in life and so they talk all the time, and they ask questions and then argue with each other and me about the answers. this can get tiring- especially in the car- especially in traffic. in the last two days, i've spent 5 hours in the car with them driving in traffic.
i try really hard to be that fully engaged mom who calmly answers their questions by reflecting them back, "well what do you think the cow is doing in the middle of the road?" or to engage them in their environment, but after sitting in that traffic, being passed by matatu after matatu in their own created lane, i inevitably end up telling everyone to please be quiet so we can just listen to music and drive!
except sometimes i forget the please.
the saving grace is that i'm usually in the car with my kids and their friend - so i have to behave slightly better than if he weren't there. (note today after we dropped him up the dirt road- i couldn't even make it the 1/4 mile home with out telling my kids to 'please shut up!'- at least i said please?)
this is the hard part about being a parent. you get tired, or crabby, but you're still on display. you're still surrounded by little minds tape recording the words and the tone of voice. these little people are always watching, and then mimicking what they see. and then perhaps the hardest part of being a parent, is hearing them sound like the part of yourself that you're trying so desperately to reign in, to contain, to change.
i once read this quote about parenting that terrified me.
"Don't worry that children never listen to you; worry that they are always watching you." ~Robert Fulghum
it reminded me of how i'm always setting an example of something. i can get all bent out of shape about them not listening to me, but what am i modeling for them?
having 'space' is like having a grown up time out. i need this time. to regroup, reset the clock, step back, get some perspective and prepare to re-engage and do it well, do it lovingly, kindly, patiently, and in a way that i would want them to repeat.
in atlanta i had an easier time getting space. i had my back porch. it was on the second floor, up high enough that i was in the trees, but the best part was the isolation. i couldn't see people. just leaves, or bark if the leaves were gone. and if i shut the door, i couldn't hear people.
in uganda, there are more people in and around my house. there are people raking, and mowing, or doing dishes or laundry and while these things are helpful and good, and i value the people doing them, they are also in my space. that is the trade off.
today florence went home early, and the yard is done being raked, so i've found 30 minutes of space. right now, the kids have gone outside. i can hear them stomping back this way, but that's okay, the time out is over, i've regrouped enough, i'm ready to begin again. but i do miss that porch!
i'm sitting out on my porch and the kids and their friends are playing nicely inside. currently no one is yelling, no one is even being that noisy, but i can feel them. i can feel the potential. that while all is well now, at any moment, all could all fall apart into a chaotic, loud mess that will require my intervention.
i love my kids, i do. they're smart and interested in life and so they talk all the time, and they ask questions and then argue with each other and me about the answers. this can get tiring- especially in the car- especially in traffic. in the last two days, i've spent 5 hours in the car with them driving in traffic.
i try really hard to be that fully engaged mom who calmly answers their questions by reflecting them back, "well what do you think the cow is doing in the middle of the road?" or to engage them in their environment, but after sitting in that traffic, being passed by matatu after matatu in their own created lane, i inevitably end up telling everyone to please be quiet so we can just listen to music and drive!
except sometimes i forget the please.
the saving grace is that i'm usually in the car with my kids and their friend - so i have to behave slightly better than if he weren't there. (note today after we dropped him up the dirt road- i couldn't even make it the 1/4 mile home with out telling my kids to 'please shut up!'- at least i said please?)
this is the hard part about being a parent. you get tired, or crabby, but you're still on display. you're still surrounded by little minds tape recording the words and the tone of voice. these little people are always watching, and then mimicking what they see. and then perhaps the hardest part of being a parent, is hearing them sound like the part of yourself that you're trying so desperately to reign in, to contain, to change.
i once read this quote about parenting that terrified me.
"Don't worry that children never listen to you; worry that they are always watching you." ~Robert Fulghum
it reminded me of how i'm always setting an example of something. i can get all bent out of shape about them not listening to me, but what am i modeling for them?
having 'space' is like having a grown up time out. i need this time. to regroup, reset the clock, step back, get some perspective and prepare to re-engage and do it well, do it lovingly, kindly, patiently, and in a way that i would want them to repeat.
in atlanta i had an easier time getting space. i had my back porch. it was on the second floor, up high enough that i was in the trees, but the best part was the isolation. i couldn't see people. just leaves, or bark if the leaves were gone. and if i shut the door, i couldn't hear people.
in uganda, there are more people in and around my house. there are people raking, and mowing, or doing dishes or laundry and while these things are helpful and good, and i value the people doing them, they are also in my space. that is the trade off.
today florence went home early, and the yard is done being raked, so i've found 30 minutes of space. right now, the kids have gone outside. i can hear them stomping back this way, but that's okay, the time out is over, i've regrouped enough, i'm ready to begin again. but i do miss that porch!
zoe reading to jude and bryn on the porch
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