Author: Mary Ann Johnson

Practicing Calm — The Honey Bucket – A Series

I used to think staying calm with my children was a skill I’d eventually master and move past, something I’d graduate from once they were grown. I know better now. Right now, I’m caring for my 96-year-old mother, who has dementia, and I’m finding myself back in the same classroom I thought I’d left decades ago.

That’s really what this series of five articles is about. Not a formula, not a finished skill, but a practice, one that shows up again and again across a lifetime, in different seasons, with different people, in ways we don’t always see coming.

The stories in this series are from long ago, mostly from the years when my children were small, or my grandchildren were underfoot. But I keep coming back to them, because the lessons in them are just as true today as they were then. I hope these stories feel less like advice from someone who’s arrived, and more like company from someone still on the road with you.

I’m in a new season of practicing calm. My mom is 96 and living with dementia, and some days caring for her tests every ounce of patience I thought I’d built up over the years. I lose it occasionally. I hear my voice get sharp, or I feel that same old flash of frustration rise, and I have to stop and remind myself of something I learned a long time ago, back when my own children were small.

Staying calm isn’t a skill you master once and keep forever. It’s a practice. And you never know when life will hand you a new season that puts you right back in the classroom. I was reminded of that recently when I came across an old story from years ago, back when my grandchildren were small, and I was watching them for the day. It’s a good reminder that the practice never really ends, and that’s okay. Enjoy. : )

I was sitting at the table watching Mary today. She had a small bowl of popcorn and was happily eating. Every bite or so, she would look up and give me a coy little smile. I would smile back and eat a piece of my popcorn. After several bites and coy smiles, Mary got up, toddled over to me, and lifted her face for a kiss. I gave her one, and she went back to the popcorn, took another bite, gave me that same shy smile, and I returned it. Then she got up again, came over to me, and lifted her face for another kiss. We repeated this a few times.

20 Minutes Earlier

What made this peaceful, joyous moment so remarkable was what had happened just 20 minutes earlier.

In the kitchen was a large bucket of thick honey, straight from my own bees, with no water in it, so it was very sticky. I noticed that bucket the day before and thought, “Hmm, that lid isn’t on very tight.” Then, as busy people do, I went on my way and didn’t do anything about it.

Today my grandchildren came to spend the whole day. I was prepared with crafts and fun, and all was going to be great. But I was running behind, which meant we were late eating breakfast and getting dressed. It was after 11:00 when I was tying the last shoelace. Just then, Mary came into the living room dripping honey from head to foot.

I let out a shriek, grabbed her, and ran for the tub, clothes and all. I fussed the whole way. “Mary, what did you do? Why were you in the kitchen? Look at this mess!” All the things you’d expect me to say.

As I stripped her clothes off and washed away the very thick honey, I made myself think about what was happening. I had a real mess in the kitchen, I was sure. This was my last set of clothes for Mary, and she hadn’t even been dressed for ten minutes. I was angry, and honestly, it was my own fault for not securing that lid.

I forced myself to calm down and really look at her. She was perfectly happy being doused in warm water, and any sense of trouble had already evaporated into the joy of the bath. She’s just a baby, really, only 16 months old. She’s interested in everything, and I mean everything. I hadn’t secured the perimeter, so to speak, and now I had a mess to clean up.

More than that, I realized that damaging this precious relationship over her childish need to explore, and my own oversight, would be a terrible trade. So, I stopped fussing. I washed her off, kissed her as I dried her, and steeled myself to go face the kitchen. It really was a mess.

A couple of days ago, I was talking with a mom about staying calm. She told me she’d decided to practice it, and that it was making a real difference. She said the more she practiced, the better she got at it. Amen to that.

Staying calm, not losing your temper, being present, seeing a child as a person with needs instead of a problem to solve – these are all practiced skills. The more we practice, the better we get. That’s what I had to do that day: practice some more.

What I’ve Learned

I’m imperfect at this, just like most of you. I felt angry first. I fussed. But then I made myself stop and choose better. A few things I’ve learned along the way:

  • The sweetness of family life comes through when we stay as calm and kind with our children as we can manage.
  • Children aren’t small adults. They don’t think like we do or behave as we do, and that means they’ll end up in trouble often as they grow and learn.
  • Living with children means living with the possibility of mess, frustration, and moments that test our patience. But damaging a relationship over a mess is never worth it.
  • Staying calm takes practice, practice, and more practice, and we won’t be perfect at it. The better we get at it, though, the better we feel about ourselves, and it tends to spill over into the rest of our lives too.

And here I am, all these years later, practicing all over again. : )

Practicing Calm — The Honey Bucket – A Series


I used to think staying calm with my children was a skill I’d eventually master and move past, something I’d graduate from once they were grown. I know better now. Right now, I’m caring for my 96-year-old mother, who has dementia, and I’m finding myself back in the same classroom I thought I’d left decades ago.

The stories in this series are from long ago, mostly from the years when my children were small, or my grandchildren were underfoot. But I keep coming back to them, because the lessons in them are just as true today as they were then. I hope these stories feel less like advice from someone who’s arrived, and more like company from someone still on the road with you.

Staying calm isn’t a skill you master once and keep forever. It’s a practice. And you never know when life will hand you a new season that puts you right back in the classroom. I was reminded of that recently when I came across an old story from years ago, back when my grandchildren were small. It’s a good reminder that the practice never really ends, and that’s okay. 

Join me as I share the story of the Honey Bucket and its powerful message on calm parenting.

Check out this episode!

Learning in Disguise

A friend of mine, a mom with several young children, told me recently that her kids’ favorite thing to do is play dress-up. They want to do it all day long, even the boys. Of course, it makes a glorious mess. As we visited, she asked me about the value of this interest she was seeing in her kids, and it opened up a wonderful conversation.

The ideas we talked about are primarily for children under eleven, but don’t close the door on your teens just yet. I have found that when families incorporate a younger child’s interests into a shared activity, older kids will often join in too. Secretly, many of them miss being kids. So read on and think about how this might bring your family together, whatever ages you’re working with.

Play Is the Gateway

Children between the ages of one and twelve are in what is called the Age of Exploration. They want to experiment with everything physically and mentally, and dress-up play is one of the most natural expressions of that impulse. What looks like simple make-believe is actually children trying on the world — testing out who they might be, what history might have felt like, what it means to be someone else entirely.

And here is the beautiful opportunity for families: if you are present, even a little, while the costumes are coming out, you can weave in stories and information that children will carry with them for years. Not as a lesson. Not as school. Just as a story told by someone they love, while everyone is playing together. That combination — your presence, their imagination, a great story is a powerful thing.

Ideas to Try

You can share stories of past kings and queens as your children dress up as royalty. You can talk about a historical era and let them act out the characters. Some periods of history are especially rich for this kind of story-play: explorers like Lewis and Clark, scientists like Marie Curie and Albert Einstein, or even a beloved ancestor whose story deserves to be remembered. Tell a short story, then let them become the character. The learning that happens this way tends to stick because it was fun, it was shared, and you were there.

You don’t need an elaborate costume collection for any of this. Some families have a box of dress-up clothes, and that’s wonderful. But what I used with my grandchildren was a large box of fabric squares and scarves. Fabric and scarves leave everything to the imagination, and children are endlessly creative when given the freedom to invent. I have seen teens come up with remarkable ideas and then turn around and help their younger siblings bring those ideas to life. You would be amazed at what can happen when you simply provide the materials and step back.

Weaving It Into Family Life

If your family has a reading time together, that is a natural place to bring in a little dress-up magic. When you are reading a fiction book, stop at an exciting moment in the chapter and act it out. Use your box of fabric squares. You don’t need to do this every time you read together, but every now and again it adds a spark of fun that everyone remembers. This is another place where teens, given the chance, will often surprise you by jumping in to help the younger ones.

If a dedicated dress-up activity doesn’t feel right for your family, there are smaller ways to bring the same spirit in. Tell an interesting story about a historical figure or an ancestor at dinner, and let your littles act it out when the meal is done. Read together as a family, and then when finished, let the younger kids play out what they heard. The idea is simply this: mix their natural love of play with a story worth telling, and learning happens almost without anyone noticing.

From One Family Who Tried It

My friend decided to experiment with some of these ideas, and here is what she shared with me afterward:

“Thank you, Mary Ann! I tried this today. We are reading The Wizard of Oz. Of course, they all wanted to be Dorothy, but eventually they settled on at least one scarecrow. One of the Dorothys wanted to have a Greek-style costume, so she made up a side story to go with that. Thanks for a great idea — it will be fun to use for future reading too!”  Sarah

Play and learn. That’s how children do it best. Don’t be afraid to mix their natural love of make-believe with your inspiration and your stories.

The results, as Sarah discovered, can be truly magical.

Learning in Disguise


A friend of mine, a mom with several young children, told me recently that her kids’ favorite thing to do is play dress-up. They want to do it all day long, even the boys. Of course, it makes a glorious mess. As we visited, she asked me about the value of this interest she was seeing in her kids, and it opened up a wonderful conversation.

Today I will share some effective ideas on how to harness the joy of dressing up and learning in a family activity. They work for little kids and teens. They can be so family-connecting!

Check out this episode!

Finding Your Two Mites

My sister Cindy has a job caring for a man with dementia. As I know well, this can be an overwhelming and consuming responsibility. Here was her text to me:

“Mary, I need advice. Taking care of D. is draining me. I didn’t go to the temple all week. I’d leave his house, and I had nothing left. He wants to be with me constantly. When I’m cooking his food, he stands right next to me, and I have to move away. He asks me what he should do about everything. It’s exhausting.”

After some pondering, because I do know firsthand what this is like, here was my response: “No matter what our current mission, we can survive and even thrive, but we must revive.”

Watching over others truly is a mission, whether it’s caring for an elderly person with dementia, several toddlers, a house full of teens, or navigating a work environment. When we take on the task of teaching, guiding, nurturing, loving, and serving others, it’s a mission, and an important one that impacts the world beyond the walls of our home. But caring for and interacting with others can be challenging.

Most of the time, I take Mom on errands with me when I would rather be alone. She loves riding in the car, even though she can’t recall going five minutes after we return home. But in the moment, she’s satisfied and happy. The challenge is that every few minutes she asks the same question: “What town is this?” or makes the same observations: “Isn’t it interesting what people do to their yards?” or “Aren’t the mountains beautiful?”

Those of you raising children know exactly what I’m talking about: Mom, I can’t find my shoes. Where are my Legos? Can I have a snack? Why can’t Jimmy come over? And so it goes. Or the opposite, wondering if your teens will ever talk to you and let you know how they’re doing and what they’re doing. It can be exhausting. And what about maintaining peace at work when someone is having a hard day?

My mother sits quietly in her room much of the time, often sitting with her eyes closed or her head in her hands. This requires that I help her engage in some way. It can take as little as saying, “Mom, crochet,” or as much as walking her outside for a while.  My husband Don requires frequent care as well. But if I look, I can find time to rest. But do I?

You, as mothers, know what this is like too. Your littles are busy playing for 30 minutes without fighting, or running around the backyard having fun. Your teens might be napping or off with friends. There is a lull at work. Often in these less hectic moments, instead of resting and being still, we do what needs to be done: dinner prep, laundry, finally getting to the disgusting bathroom, and so forth. Even though we aren’t wrangling kids or others, we are still busy working and keeping an ear out.

Thursday at 8 am, after being on the go since 6:15, I finally knelt to pray. Just as I was finishing, I heard Don calling from the living room. His feet, which were soaking in a special water bath, were done, and he needed help — no time to continue kneeling quietly and listening. No woman I know is immune from these types of interruptions.

So how do we manage? How do we stay calm, feel peace, and be happy despite what life really is? We have to find ways to revive, and for most of us in this season of life, they need to be simple, manageable, and only use small moments of time.

What Fills You Up

Over the years, ideas have come to my mind, some still useful and others that fell by the wayside and were replaced. It’s been a process, not a one-time thing. Here is what I currently do to center myself, reduce stress, find reasons to smile, and feel calm and happy.

Singing. Each evening I sit in the bathroom, my bedroom, or go outside and sing. I love singing. I do it with vim and vigor and never worry about who might hear. It’s wonderful and rejuvenating.

Reading in stolen moments. I always have a book in my bathroom. I visit this room several times a day, and at each visit I read at least one paragraph, sometimes half a page. I love reading; it feels fun, and fun is always restorative.

Getting up early. Although I resisted the impression for several years, I now get up at 6 to 6:30 am. I have found that I can have at least thirty minutes to an hour by myself before another voice is heard. No questions, no needs to fill.

A morning routine that says, “I matter.” Early in the morning, I have a routine that sets me up for the day. I pray, take my nutrition, and get dressed. I put on a small amount of powdered blush and lipstick and give myself a spritz of a perfume I love. I hadn’t done either in years, but when I began this year, it wasn’t for anyone else but me. They are simply small ways of saying, “Mary, I love you.” It’s amazing what tiny acts of self-care can do for the soul. I write three things in my gratitude journal and read my daily affirmations. Focusing on gratitude and reminding myself of who I am matters deeply as the day revs up, the frustrations increase, and the weariness sets in.

Friends who really know me. I have several friends I connect with regularly. I have lunch with one every three months. We live far apart, drive quite a way to meet in the middle, and want to make it special. I schedule calls with others once a month to once every three months. I had one of these calls last week and another this week. What a gift and a relief. I can share hard things. They listen, have good ideas, and we laugh a lot. It’s deeply restorative.

My nightly shower. I shower most nights. I pray for someone else, then feel the water, enjoy the silence, and let the day go. It’s something I have done since I was sixteen and has never lost its power to soothe my soul, return me to calm, and center me as a daughter of God.

My next-day worksheet. Each evening I write down whatever is cluttering my mind on my next-day worksheet. Someone asked me recently if I wake up at night thinking about all the appointments, doctors, and problems coming up. I was able to say, honestly, never. It’s all on a sheet waiting for me in the morning, and I am free to relax and sleep.

Listening and responding. All day long, thoughts come to my mind: that wasn’t okay, try this instead, stop and finish tomorrow, sit down, you’re a silly woman so smile. I believe these thoughts come from God because I am loved and need the help. Following them has made an enormous difference.

None of these things are managed perfectly. I may miss a shower because it’s just too late. I may not read every time I visit the bathroom because someone is calling for me. Not everything in my morning routine gets done every day. But I manage well enough, and that’s why I’ve been able to do what I’m doing for nine years without falling apart.

Look Back to Find What You’ve Lost

My granddaughter Lizzy is a painter and does wonderfully creative work. She has had her paintings in several shows. Recently, she lamented in a Facebook post that she hasn’t painted a single stroke since her daughter Ila was born several months ago. I could relate.

I used to sing constantly, the songs my mother sang from the 1940s and the music I grew up with in the 50s and 60s. I sang while gardening, cleaning, and caring for my kids. When I wasn’t singing, I played music. Then somewhere in the busyness of caring for my mother and Don, I stopped. No music at all. As I have shared, I finally began singing again in the last year and a half, nudged back to it by a quiet thought I believe came from God.

Since writing my recent article on stillness and making space for yourself, I’ve begun playing music again, the music I grew up with and sang as a busy mother of seven. I have found it exhilarating. I hadn’t realized how much I missed something I had quietly let go.

As you look for what rejuvenates you, think back. What did you love and let go of in the busyness of parenting, working, grandparenting? What might still be waiting for you to return to it?

Your Two Mites

As I wrote about recently, the widow’s mite teaches us that what we give from the heart, even when it feels small, is enough. My list will not work for everyone. I am an Upholder with a busy and energetic nature, so this approach works for me. You will need to determine what works for you. Then make a list. Be clear in your own mind about how you’re going to revive each day, regardless of your energy and temperament. A written list of your ideas can show you whether you’re on track or whether some honest pondering is needed.

We all bring what we have. Some days it’s more, and some days it’s two small mites. But given consistently and from the heart, it’s enough for those we serve and for ourselves.

We can survive and even thrive, but we must find ways to revive.

Finding Your Two Mites


My sister Cindy has a job caring for a man with dementia. As I know well, this can be an overwhelming and consuming responsibility. Here was her text to me:

“Mary, I need advice. Taking care of D. is draining me. I didn’t go to the temple all week. I’d leave his house, and I had nothing left. He wants to be with me constantly. When I’m cooking his food, he stands right next to me, and I have to move away. He asks me what he should do about everything. It’s exhausting.”

After some pondering, because I do know firsthand what this is like, here was my response: “No matter what our current mission, we can survive and even thrive, but we must revive.”

Today I will be sharing some real-life examples of how to survive caring for and interacting with others: the elderly, kids, teens, and those we work with. It can be challenging unless we have ways to revive after hectic days. Join me and begin to thrive!

Check out this episode!

Stop Fixing the Cookies!

When you’re engaged in a project, what matters to you? For many adults, it’s the outcome. We want the cookies to taste good, the tomatoes to grow large and red, the dress to look store-bought, and the painting to be perfect. I know that doesn’t apply to every adult, but it does apply to many of us.

When children are engaged in a project, what matters to them? For the most part, it’s the process. Have you ever watched a five-year-old paint? They like digging the brush deep in the paint and swirling it around. They like lots of paint on the brush. Then they swipe it onto the paper. They smile at the brightness of the color. They aren’t usually concerned if the red bleeds into the green or if the red turns the yellow a tad orange at the edges. It’s the act of painting they care about. And when it’s done, no matter how it turned out, they are happy and proud.

We can increase our joy when working with children if we let go of the outcome. The act of creating is what children love. It’s what makes learning fun. Our job is to provide the materials and the inspiration. Theirs is to create the outcome.

A Party is a Perfect Venue

Any time we can encourage creative exploration, we are on the path to helping our children gain confidence and learn new things. Even a child’s party is a perfect venue for allowing a child to create without worrying about the outcome.

My mom gave me some amazing parties. I recall that in my seventh-grade year, I had a taffy party. I had seven or eight friends over, and my mom taught us to make pulled taffy. It turned out well. It was so much fun. We had a really good time, and each girl had a gift, a plate of taffy, to take home. My mom showed us what to do and then stood back and let us do it.

I followed my mom’s footsteps. One year we had a dress-up party. I collected dress-ups from thrift stores, and when the children arrived, they each designed an outfit. Then we had a wonderful parade around the block. I supplied the materials, and the kids did the rest. I didn’t help them put their outfits together. The outcome wasn’t the priority; creating was.

Another time I helped the kids make sugar cookies from scratch. They frosted and decorated them with small candies, raisins, and other edible treats. Then the cookies were packed into small boxes to take home. I didn’t fix any cookies that didn’t look perfect. It was tempting because what their parents would see might reflect on me. But I shut out that story and let the kids create.

When my youngest daughter was turning eleven, we had a formal tea party. The guests came in their best dresses and were served by mothers who had been enlisted to help. The ice cream was cut into little teapots using a teapot cookie cutter, and each girl had her own miniature cake. They were encouraged to converse. The other moms and I made ourselves scarce and allowed the girls to figure out how a tea party worked. They got the hang of it, and soon there was an ample amount of giggling and chatting going on in the living room. Each girl went home with a miniature tea set purchased at the dollar store. Kate said it was her favorite party.

One year my son had a relay party. All the activities were relay games. We found lots of ideas by asking his grandparents about games they remembered, games I recalled from my school days, and books from the library. The instructions were given, and then the adults sat on the sidelines and let the kids hash it out. They had a wonderful time.

What Would I Do Differently?

Although I stood back and let the children at the party do their thing, here is what I would have done differently if I could go back. I put together wonderfully creative activities, but I did all the planning, just as my mother had done. Wouldn’t it have been a great learning and growing experience to sit down with the birthday girl or boy and plan it together? I bet often they would have loved my idea. Occasionally they might have had a completely different idea, which would have required me to step back and change course, not always an easy thing. But doing that would have helped them work on skills they would need as adults, rather than just showing up at a party and having fun. Think of all the learning that could happen when a child and parent plan something together.

There is real value in stepping back and allowing our children to create without worrying about the outcome. I once read that the greatest teachers replace themselves. When children feel courageous and excited to venture out, learn new things, and then use what they’ve learned to bring joy to others, that’s something worth celebrating.

Any time we foster the skills of creation, thinking, and problem-solving, we are helping our children on the path to becoming capable, confident adults.

Stop Fixing the Cookies!


When you’re engaged in a project, what matters to you? For many adults, it’s the outcome.

When children are engaged in a project, what matters to them? For the most part, it’s the process.

There is real value in stepping back and allowing our children to create without worrying about the outcome. 

Any time we foster the skills of creation, thinking, and problem-solving, we are helping our children on the path to becoming capable, confident adults.

Join me as I share some stellar examples of what stepping back from the outcome looks like and how it can bless the children in your life. 

Check out this episode!

Drunken Snails and Other Miracles

When I moved from Montana to Utah in my late 50s, something stopped me in my tracks – the realization that I was responsible for my responses, no matter the circumstances or the people involved. This hit me hard. I couldn’t blame others for how I felt! I was mad and honestly didn’t want it to be true. But I am a learner, and the thought wouldn’t leave.

The Quest

I began a quest to learn more about receiving good into my life. I had grown up believing that everything was hard and a struggle. I was done with that story. One of my early mentors was Leslie Householder. I read her book The Jackrabbit Factor and its sequel, Portal to Genius, and attended several classes. What I learned changed everything. If I had faith, believed in myself, and kept a handle on my thoughts, miracles could and would happen.

I wanted all seven of my kids to understand what I was learning. Without meaning to, I had taught them through example that life was hard and a struggle. We live how we were taught. I wanted something better for my kids. I wanted them to have control over their thoughts and the results that come from holding to the belief that we are creators, not victims, and that we can have miracles.

Andrew was twenty-nine at the time. He had just lost a job he had given his heart and soul to and gotten very little back. He was feeling down about it. Every time we talked, and that wasn’t often, I asked him if he had read The Jackrabbit Factor. I knew it would help him see things in a more positive light. I have to admit I nagged just a bit!

One morning he called me and talked for about 40 minutes. This was out of the ordinary, as our calls usually lasted 10 minutes, with me asking questions and him answering with a yes or no. He wanted to share what he was learning and say thanks. Andrew is a quiet man and not demonstrative, but I could hear the happiness in his voice. He was excited and grateful. He even told me he was glad I had nagged!

Andrew had been practicing the principles Leslie taught, and they were working for him. He was still looking for a new job. Then his car broke down. For several months it just sat there. After reading the book, he set a goal to get it fixed and changed his thinking about it. Within a few days he got two calls, offers of help and less expensive parts than he had expected. The car got fixed. He also found work that suited him well.

What About Those Drunken Snails?

Here’s another fun example of the changes in Andrew’s way of thinking. Simple yet powerful.

He is an avid gardener. He had a very small yard, at the time, which he tended with loving care. One year he planted sunflowers which the snails promptly ate. He planted them again the next year. To ward off the snails, he put pans of beer in the garden. One night there was a huge storm. He was sitting in the living room worrying about his 1″ high sunflower seedlings. He had this thought, “Last year the snails got them, and this year it’s the storm.” Then he caught himself and remembered what he had learned from reading The Jackrabbit Factor. He changed his mind chatter to, “It isn’t morning yet, so I’m not going to sit here and worry about what hasn’t happened. They will be just fine.” When he went out to check on the seedlings in the morning, he told me that not only were they just fine, there seemed to be twice as many sprouts and the garden was filled with very happy, drunken snails!

This experience with Andrew happened in 2010. At the beginning of that year, I had made a list of things I wanted in my life. They weren’t physical things but quality-of-life changes. For them to happen would require miracles. Because of the principles I had learned, I wrote them down, read them regularly, and waited for opportunities. One of the items on my list was that Andrew and I would have more meaningful and regular conversations. The book and his experiences opened a doorway for us, and our communication increased.

We all are who we are when we begin. Our job is to grow and to help our children see, by example, a better way. We can teach them as we learn. Our mistakes are not permanent. We can impact even our grown children if it takes us that long to figure things out — and sometimes it does. A good parent never stops working on becoming a better person, and in doing so they impact their children for good. I mentored parents for over a decade and a half, and the one thing most of them needed to hear was this — it’s never too late.

You can learn, grow, and be the example your child needs. It’s never too late!

Drunken Snails and Other Miracles


When I moved from Montana to Utah in my late 50s, something stopped me in my tracks. The realization that I was responsible for my responses, no matter the circumstances or the people involved. This hit me hard. I couldn’t blame others for how I felt! I was mad and honestly didn’t want it to be true. But I am a learner, and the thought wouldn’t leave.

As I learned and accepted the truth of this statement, my life began to change. I wanted that same growth for my children. Join me as I share my 29-year-old son Andrew’s experience. It is enlightening and fun. Especially the part about the drunken snails. : ) 

Check out this episode!