Last night, as I was mashing the last lumps out of the potatoes for my shepherd’s pie, Brett and his mom sipped wine and chatted in the kitchen. Listening to people talk in my kitchen while I cook is one of my favorite pleasures in the entire world, and if there’s a heaven, it will definitely involve me chopping tomatoes with the music of laughter from my favorite people who are sitting in bar stools at a counter next to me. Also, I’ll be wearing a baby sling with a newborn. But where were we? Last night in my kitchen. The topic must have been Father’s Day which led to a question directed at me.

“Brett’s a good dad, isn’t he?” Brett’s mom asked, smiling, drawing me into the fun conversation she knew would follow.

“I’m not as good as you think,” Brett humbly argued, “I could do better in a lot of areas.”

“He’s the best,” I jumped in, stepping away from the potatoes and taking a seat on the counter across from them.

We laughed talking about what areas he could do better in–we all know as parents which areas they are, and it just so happens to work out that those areas for him are places where I hold the fort down (and vice versa).

“I mean,” I added, “my friends and family all know that if anything ever happens to me, they’re going to have to get these kids to school because it’s quite possible Brett would just home school them, and by home school, I mean skip it altogether because they were sleeping and he thought it was rude to wake them up.”

Brett laughed, “She’s right.”

“But let me tell you this right now, and this is all that matters.” I shifted my answer from Brett’s mom to Brett, “Your kids, without a doubt, know they are loved. You drench them in it. You speak fluent fatherly affection. Our girls won’t need to seek attention from boys because they’re ever lacking it from their father, and our son won’t for a second question if their dad approves of him. If there’s one thing I know our children will say about you, it’s that they know their father’s heart bleeds for them and that there’s nothing they can do to lose that.”

The marriage advice still stands that you should choose a partner based on how he loves you and not how he will love a child, but I admit I went straight for the latter because I had the unique opportunity of watching him be a father before I had my own children. That love was mesmerizing, and it’s what made me want to marry him. To this day, it is my favorite thing about him.

So, while he has zero patience for Lainey’s slime making and thinks school is overrated and kids should just live their lives playing and having fun, based on his beautiful strong points–the ones that matter–for Father’s Day, I’ve collected my favorite things about watching Brett be a dad and organized them into some a few Rules of Fatherhood for our kids here.

Show Affection.
Invite them in your lap. Wrap your arms around them. Stroke their hair. Hold their hand. Kiss their cheeks. Don’t shy away from these things the older they get. Nothing makes me happier than seeing my kids all pretzeled up in Brett’s arms, their head on his shoulder, their hands in his. And last night, as I watched Brett stand behind his 20-year-old son and rub his shoulders, almost subconsciously, I thought about how important that physical touch is–how many messages it sends to our kids as they navigate through life. Without speaking any words, those hugs and hair strokes and shoulder rubs say, “I’m always here.”

Bestow an Endearing Nickname.
Brett has special nicknames for all the kids–ones only he uses–and they’re kryptonite for all frustrating situations. I know 16-year-old Lainey will melt a little bit, even when she’s mad at her dad, when she hears him call her by the beloved nickname that says, “You’re special…even if you broke your curfew.” Brett even gives silly nicknames to all of Lainey’s friends who come over. Lainey’s friend Maggie actually corrects him if he calls her by her real name. “You mean Tina, right?”

Be Sentimental.
I’m definitely the sentimental one in the family and “talking about feelings” is a phrase equivalent to nails on a chalkboard for Brett, but when it comes to talking about our kids or looking at their old baby pictures or having conversations about how much we love them–how funny and awesome and beautiful they all are–Brett’s practically a Cryderman. We once had a date night where we were sitting at a bar drinking cold beer, tuning out a live band while we both got all teary telling stories about the kids–to the point where we had to shift the conversation away from our kids and remember there’s so much more to talk about. But these kids make him mush, and he never hides that, and I love that about him.

Be Ridiculous.
Buy them something they don’t need just because you know they will love it. Make their mom roll her eyes because you said yes to something you know she thinks is ridiculous. Break the rules sometimes to make a memory. Go ahead–order the Barbie camper. We’ll talk about it in twenty years, and it will remind me of the crazy things you do that make me love you more.

There are so many things we will look back on as parents and wish we would have done differently. But these four are covered in our home, thanks to the man I married who loves his kids so well.

Now come back tomorrow, and I’ll tell you about my own dad.

 

Happy Monday! As we prepare for Mother’s Day this weekend, I’m bringing several stories of motherhood to this space, broadening our perspectives of what other motherhood journeys look like and expanding our definition of what it means to love a mother, be a mother and honor women in our lives who have nurtured us. Whether you love your own children, someone else’s children, four-legged loves or have decided that having children isn’t something you want to pursue, we are all greatly affected by the role of motherhood with our own moms–by the pain of their loss or the impact of their presence.

Today, I bring you my own mama. While so many childhood memories are faded, what remains vivid is that my mom loved raising babies, and we felt it. It came naturally for her, and even though we were little and preoccupied with things little people think about, I can look back now with such clear awareness that my mom was loving that window in her life. There were messes and stresses, I’m sure, but what I remember most of those early days is my mom’s nurturing heart–she loved pushing strollers and baking cupcakes and planning the perfect handmade Christmas presents. She once told me that now, as an adult, every once in a while she’ll dream that we’re little again, and (warning, this next part is going to kill you) that when she wakes up and the realization comes to her that it was just a dream, she can barely breathe for a second because the clarity of how much she misses it hurts. She’s still nurturing today, never missing a birthday or a Hallmark holiday with a package full of handmade gifts.

If there’s one lesson I’ve learned from my mom, it is to take what you’ve been given and make it beautiful. I’ve seen her practice this is in the kitchen, magically transforming my shoddy we-need-to-go-grocery-shopping refrigerator leftovers into impressive 4-course meals (I’m convinced the woman can make a homemade chicken pot pie from a few rubber bands and scrap paper), and I’ve seen her do it in our home. There were times we didn’t have much money growing up, but you’d never know it from how cozy and inviting she made her spaces–sewing clearance bed sheets into curtains, lighting candles, playing classical music. She’s faced heartache in her life with such acceptance and contentment for her blessings, and that, perhaps, is her greatest gift.

I’m honored to have my mama’s words in this space today. I asked her a few questions about raising kids, and reading her answers made me not only love her more but appreciate the fact that I get to repeat her favorite treasure–raising two girls and a boy just like she did.

What has been the hardest period of motherhood for you and how did you deal with it?

The hardest thing for me was letting my kids go. When they were little it seemed like they would be under my roof forever, safe and sound, needing my care. As they became older, they began to develop friends and interests apart from family life and then ultimately they entered adulthood, leaving home and needing me less. I’ll never forget Kelle, my youngest, leaving me a message on my answering machine: “Mom, just letting you know I had a phone interview for a teaching job in Florida, I got the job and I’ll be leaving in 4 days.” After a good cry, I gathered myself and began the process of letting go. I decided it would be better for me and for my kids to let them “leave the nest” with my blessing.

What is your favorite go-to mom recipe that’s easy for a busy mom with a big family?

What comes to my mind is a simple chocolate cake I used to make frequently called a “wacky” cake. I think it was popular in the depression era because it can be made with limited ingredients, no eggs or milk! Here is the recipe:

1 ½ c. all purpose flour
1 c. white sugar
½ tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
¼ c. unsweetened cocoa powder
6 Tbsp. vegetable oil
1 Tbsp. white vinegar
1 c. water

Mix all dry ingredients. Add oil, vinegar, and water and mix thoroughly. Pour into greased and floured 8 x 8 pan. (Recipe can be doubled for a 9 x x 13 pan). Bake 30 min. at 375.

What is your best advice to moms of little kids?

Love more, worry less! When kids are little, it seems there are so many demands! Some of my most vivid memories of my kids are when they were little. It is such a precious time, cherish every minute!

What is your best advice for moms during the tough teenage years?

Give them space, listen, and encourage them.

I think all three of us kids would say one of your most amazing motherhood qualities is that you love so unconditionally. You pour love without any expectation back. I know that we might all do stuff that maybe you don’t agree with, but we never feel judged, you don’t bring it up and you love no matter what. Is that hard to do and do you want to elaborate on this at all?

I think it boils down to what I mentioned earlier regarding letting them go. It’s not always easy, but I believe children respond more to praise and encouragement rather than voicing your opinions and advice about what they should do. On occasion, I think it is necessary to let your kids know of certain expectations you do have, but always in a positive way!

What was the most important thing in your home when we were little?
Balancing parenthood and other responsibilities is a challenge. When my children were young, it was a busy household with frequent guests and entertaining. It was easy to miss my children’s needs in favor of meeting ​other’s needs. But the most important thing was meeting my family’s needs, tending to my children and nurturing them.

What was your favorite thing about having little kids?

My favorite thing was making their birthdays special! I still like to do this!

What was the hardest thing about having little kids?

I guess I would have to say it was being interrupted often, not having much time for myself! But it was totally worth it!

What is your favorite thing about having adult kids?

My favorite thing is the anticipation of seeing my kids, especially after not seeing them for awhile, as I no longer live close to any of them. Interacting with them as adults is just as special now as it was when they were little!

What is the hardest thing about having adult kids?
When my kids were young and conflicts arose, they seemed easier to resolve, with solutions usually around the corner. But as my children have become adults it has been more of a challenge to navigate through disagreements and misunderstandings.

If you had to choose one parenting mantra for yourself, what would it be?
Love and support your kids with all you’ve got!

Looking back, if you could do anything differently in motherhood, what would you do differently?
I would have listened more and given advice less.

What are you most proud of in your motherhood journey?
I am most proud of who my children have become. They are each so special and unique and it has been my highest honor to be their mother!

I love my mama so much. Come back tomorrow for more stories of motherhood from some of my favorite writers and online friends sharing diverse journeys of motherhood. And if you haven’t checked it out yet, on my Instagram stories this week, I’m sharing readers’ submissions of the definition of motherhood. I’ve laughed and cried and had my heart expanded to so many beautiful interpretations of this journey. You can find all of them collected in the “Motherhood Is” button in my Instagram Highlights.

Two years ago, we started seeing a family therapist to provide some test anxiety support. I quickly discovered how much I love having a therapist in our routine and how it benefits our entire family, so we continued our visits–sometimes spaced out quite a bit if we’re busy and comfortable, and sometimes arranged a little more frequently if it feels necessary to make some designated space for talking about our feelings. Our therapist’s office is roomy and cozy and has lots of toys, and with our busy schedule and responsibilities, sometimes sessions for us look like Dash and Nella playing with the doll house in the corner while Lainey and I sit on the couch (I’ve found having Nella and Dash there lightens things up and makes everyone more relaxed and open). We go less to address problems and more to make space for talking, and everything we take away is applicable to any of us and helpful for our entire family. Mostly, I do it because I recognize that my kids aren’t all outgoing and talkative like me, and when I talk about deep, emotional important things because I love talking about deep, emotional, important things, sometimes it can make an introvert shut down. Therapy for us is creating important space, another avenue for vital communication and connection as our kids grow up and deal with stresses and discovering who they are. Lately, it’s been a parenting refresher course, reminding me of all the things I know but sometimes forget. Our therapist is so skilled, insightful and loving in everything she shares, I’ve actually wiped tears listening to her talk, amazed at how she had the exact thing we needed to hear. I have taken away so many nuggets of parenting truth from these sessions, I thought today I’d share my five favorite ones.

Nothing is good because other people say it’s good.

I mean, I know this is something I need to teach and model for my kids–it’s a truth that’s changed my own recognition of my worth and willingness to pursue creative work–but it’s funny how my reactions in parenting situations don’t always mirror what I know to be true. Case in point: We were talking in therapy recently about a poem Lainey had written and showed me but didn’t think my “It’s beautiful–I love the creative personification you used here” represented a true 5-star review.

“You don’t like it, do you?” she said.

“So how did you answer?” our therapist asked me. I started laughing because I immediately recognized that what I said next suggested that the more people who think her work is good is what makes it good–and that’s okay because parents impulsively react all the time, and that doesn’t mean we are doing it “wrong.”

“I so badly wanted her to see how good it was, so I started naming all the people who were going to love it, calling Brett in to read it and tell her it was good, telling her she should show Poppa–he’s going to love it too.” I built up a case that maybe if we got enough people to give 5-star reviews, suddenly she’d believe her poem was good.

Our lovely therapist smiled and assured me that’s a completely normal reaction but suggested the following: “Maybe next time, put the reaction to the poem back on her. Ask her, “Do you love the poem? Because that’s all that matters. What did it feel like to write it? What do you love about it? And if she doesn’t like it, you can deal with that too–asking her why she doesn’t and making it better so she does love it.”

And of course I knew this deep in my bones, but that’s what I love about therapy. It’s such an open, forgiving, accepting place that brings all the reminders to the surface and sharpens what we know but forget to put in practice. Because of this little lesson, I’m much more aware of bringing satisfaction of my kids’ work back to their own feelings about creating it.

Shy people play powerful roles in our world, and their personalities are needed and important.

It was a simple lesson to kill comparison to all the kids with big outgoing personalities making very visible contributions at school.

“Can I tell you something?” our therapist said. “I have clients that come in my office who are very outgoing. They’re successful and funny and have no problem taking a stage or talking to groups, and everyone laughs at everything they say. But do you know what? So many of those people come in my office and sit on my couch and cry and tell me about problems in their life because they are lacking some of the amazing qualities of shy people. They want to be more like you. Do you know what shy people are good at? They see things other people don’t see. They’re observant, and they listen, and they’re okay with sitting back and quietly doing work. That’s such an amazing quality to have, and a lot of people could learn from it.”

This one conversation ignited a passion in me–to celebrate the beauty of quiet observant listening. It’s not something to work to grow out of. It is something to own and be proud of.

Don’t trap your kids for serious conversations.

This is especially great for the little introverts. I know as a kid, nothing made me want to shut down more than, “Come sit down, we’re going to talk about something important.” Having face-to-face sit-downs to talk about things that are uncomfortable can feel especially intimidating and stifling for some kids and can shut them down for future communication. Stealthily slipping these conversations in while you’re on a bike ride together or out moving in nature can help them feel more light-hearted and give kids something to do while you’re talking, creating more freedom for them to open up.  Another great tip our therapist gave us: let your child know that you’re setting the timer for five minutes when you do need one of those full-attention serious conversations. It creates an “out” and keeps you from getting locked in to an endless orbit over an issue that you need to move on from (parents can do this sometimes).

When your child is looking to you to fix something, it’s okay to create some space and take a break before you help.

As parents, we are often our kids’ one “person”–their safe place to bring all their fears, release their frustrations, get mad, demand help, cry, and look for solutions. That puts a lot of pressure on us, and unfortunately our mom hours of business are 24-7, no holidays, no weekends. When our kids are upset, it can heighten our own anxiety. So when there’s a crisis or a concern–even tears–and I feel myself taking on some of that heated energy and too anxious or upset to deal with the situation appropriately, here’s the therapy suggested response: Look at her, grab her hand, and say, “Listen. Everything’s going to be okay, alright? But I just need a short time-out before we deal with this. I’m going to go make a little space to regroup so I can be calm and really listen, and then we’ll talk about it. But I want you to know that everything’s going to be okay.” Those “everything’s going to be okay” bookends are powerful.

“The Sun Will Rise Again”

This has become the theme we return to in therapy, a mantra that started with our first appointment and has been incorporated in our home and conversations daily. We even made a poster for it in therapy, writing all the constant things in our life on the sun’s rays and the words “The Sun Will Rise Again” right in the middle of the sun. This mantra works for every problem, every anxiety, every situation–the assurance that no matter what happens, even if that thing you fear comes true--the sun will rise again. The world will not end, the people who love you will always love you, and if you fall, you will get up again. It’s been proven in our lives time and time again, so its validity is data-based. I love the way our therapist will humorously remind us of this in the most child-friendly way, bringing up times that Lainey “fell” or “failed” and asking questions about that time–“So, when you fell, were you still lying there two weeks later and people had to bring you food because you couldn’t get up, and everyone was like, “Did you see Lainey? She fell two weeks ago, and she just never got up. She’s still lying there.” This always makes Lainey laugh. And that laugh paves the way for worries to melt away.

Does anyone else have good parenting lessons or tips they’ve been reminded of in therapy? We go about once a month now, and while it’s not always convenient or “fun,” we always leave feeling more connected, strong and on course where we should be. With every appointment, I leave feeling like I just finished an inspiring parenting book.

*Note: While our therapy sessions are more of a family effort to create a space for good communication, right now Lainey is really the only child old enough to benefit from the things we’re talking about (although the littler ones beg to go because they love the office). The little part of her story in this post is shared with her permission.