Category: Present Parenting

Practicing Calm — It’s Better to Laugh Than to Cry – A Series: Part 3

Story 1

This story from my family goes back decades, to when my youngest daughter, Kate, was still a teenager. The two of us were hurrying out to the car for a church event. I felt rushed. We were running late, and I hate being late. With seven children, you’d think I would have become more accepting of the occasional late start, but I hadn’t, and that day it made me feel anxious.

It had been a warm summer day, no rain in sight, the weather perfect. But as I stepped off the curb to get into the car, I found myself ankle-deep in water. I felt my hackles rising. Who filled the gutter with water? Asking who filled a gutter with water is not exactly a reasonable question. That’s how it goes when we let anger run over: irrational.

As we drove down the tree-lined street, I sputtered about how ticked off I felt, how inconsiderate the whole situation was, how being late seemed like a sign of disrespect, and on and on.

About five blocks from home, I pictured myself stepping off the curb into ankle-deep water. I saw my shocked expression, and myself looking down at the foot I was holding up while it dripped. The mental picture was so funny I started laughing, and the longer I laughed, the harder I laughed. I looked at my daughter, who had been very quiet until then (it might have been dangerous to make a sound), and she started laughing too. We laughed for a good two blocks.

Then my daughter turned to me and said, “Mom, it was funny when it happened.” Her comment brought me up short. She was right. It was one of those unexpected, funny situations that happen in life, and she was pointing out, kindly, that I could have saved us both a lot of stress if I’d just laughed in the first place. That’s often the best way to manage trouble and find happiness in the middle of it.

Story 2

In another season, we took a family vacation with our oldest daughter, Jodie, and her family. Kate was still living at home. We’d prepared for over six months. It was a big deal.

However, one by one, everyone got sick. There was crying, vomiting, and exhaustion. We camped one night and then moved on. But it became hard to travel with the children, and so Jodie decided to head home early. She was ill the day they left, with two sick children in the backseat, and a nursing baby to feed. They were pulling a trailer, and on the way home the truck broke down. They were stranded overnight, and some family members had to travel to help them get home.

When I saw the pictures they took on that drive home, it was beautiful. There weren’t any complaining faces, despite the ruined trip, the months of planning, the lost time. Just smiles. They laughed instead of complaining about one of those unexpected situations that happen in life. Their children were small and not feeling well, but if they remember this trip at all, they’ll remember it as a good one, with adults who held it together by finding the humor in a hard situation.

Kate is now in her 30s, living in Washington with three kids of her own, ages 13, 10, and 7. She was here visiting in July. I found myself watching her the same way I once watched Jodie. I shared one of Jodie’s experiences in last week’s article. Kate was handling her three children with that same steady patience I saw in Jodie all those years ago, the kind you can’t fake and can’t rush. This is something I’m still practicing: it’s better to laugh than to cry or yell, almost every time.

It hasn’t gotten easier, but I do it more often.

Practicing Calm — The Time-In – A Series: Part 2

I’ve been thinking about what it means to practice calm, especially in moments when other people are watching and silently judging whether you’re doing it right. Here’s a story that’s stayed with me for years.

The little boy, three years old, was out of control, a temper tantrum of sorts. I didn’t know what he wanted, but I could tell he felt desperate to have whatever it was. His mother was using a calm voice, talking to him, holding him gently while he twisted and screamed, then leading him away. I could tell that many of the onlooking adults felt upset with her. Why wasn’t she doing anything about this terrible tantrum? Why didn’t she make him stop?

That little boy was my grandson, and his mother is my daughter, Jodie. We were at a family reunion, and this wasn’t his first outburst. He was three, that difficult age when a child is learning to control his impulses, to be patient, to wait. It’s tough. I know some adults who haven’t mastered those skills yet either. LOL

Judgment

I would look across the campground, and there he’d be, wailing about something he needed right now, while other adults quietly formed opinions about his parents and what they weren’t doing. I could tell that silent judgment was wearing on my daughter.

Later, she told me it had taken real effort to stay centered and stay true to the parenting vision she had put in place in her home. What looked like doing nothing to the onlookers was actually a clear plan of action for this mom.

Her goal was to help Jack learn to control himself, and she did that by modeling the very behavior she wanted him to learn. She stayed calm. She was gentle but firm. If he couldn’t get control, she moved him to a quiet place and held him while he settled. It wasn’t easy. It would have been so much easier to handle him roughly, lay down the law, or yell.

What’s a Time-In?

I love the term she used for what happened when he was having a hard moment. She called it a “time-in.” She pulled him into her lap for a cuddle and a quiet chat instead of sending him away. It helped him settle, or at least redirected him toward something calmer.

Parenting can be daunting, especially when we choose to go against the grain. It takes courage to follow what we’ve decided is right, whether it’s how we discipline, educate, or talk to our children in hard moments. Having a clear picture of the outcome we want goes a long way toward helping us stay true to our choices, even when others are watching and wondering why we aren’t doing “more.”

If you’re struggling because you haven’t quite settled on what kind of parent you want to be in these moments, it can help to sit down, even briefly, and put it into words. What do you want your children to feel when they’re overwhelmed? What do you want them to learn about handling big emotions? You don’t need a formal document.

Just enough clarity to hold on to in the moments when everyone else’s opinions are loudest.

Practicing Calm — The Honey Bucket – A Series: Part 1

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. : )

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.

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.

The Pink Refrigerator – A Book About a Spark Station, Of Sorts!

I received this email in the early days of teaching parents how to use The Spark Station.

“You may have seen this. It’s a picture book called The Pink Refrigerator by Tim Egan. This illustrates the secret of the Spark Station in an inspiring way. A junk dealer who likes to do–not much–finds a pink refrigerator that holds something new for him every day, and he gets excited about life and learning, closes shop, and sets off to explore the world. I thought you might enjoy this if you hadn’t seen it. Happy reading, Cathy D.”

I was intrigued, so I went to the library and found the book. Cathy’s description was spot on. The Pink Refrigerator is the Spark Station. It’s a beautiful story about how we can inspire children to explore things that might not have occurred to them before. You don’t know what greatness is hiding inside a child until they can explore options.

When I was a girl, one of my favorite summer activities was to cover large rocks with thick mud. These were my ‘cakes,’ and I took great pains to decorate them with flowers, leaves, and grass. I spent considerable time doing this activity, and I was inordinately proud of the results. To the casual onlooker, it may have seemed as if I was wasting time. P. S. This would make a fun family activity!

When I was in 9th grade, I saw a project the seniors were doing in Home Economics, Panorama Sugar Eggs. I was taking Home Economics and wanted to make one, but it was reserved for seniors. I knew that I wouldn’t be in the same school when I was a senior. We moved a lot! So, I bravely asked the Home Economics teacher if I could have the directions. I must have seemed sincere or desperate because she gave them to me. : )

I had none of the required tools. I had no help, no experience. But I knew without doubt that I could do this project because I had made so many fabulous “cakes” in the past. Don’t ask me how I could think that frosting and sugar were anything like rocks and mud, but frankly, I did. I had learned that I could make stuff! I did make a panorama egg. It wasn’t very good, but I thought it was fantastic. I saw it years later, stored in my mom’s cedar chest. I cannot tell you how many children I have taught to do this project over the years. In fact, for the next 50+ years, I made beautiful “stuff” and taught my grands and other children to do the same.

It doesn’t matter what you put into the Spark Station, whether it’s in your home or traveling. The very act of opening it, anticipating something new, is all it takes to generate excitement and enthusiasm.

If you haven’t read the Pink Refrigerator, take a trip to the library. You’ll be glad you did, and I believe you’ll be inspired!

After reading the story, share it with a child you love. Have them write their own note about something they would like to know more about or learn how to do. It’s fun to see how excited children get about the activity! One group of children I worked with, who heard the story and did the activity, had ideas like these:
• learn to jump better
• play the flute
• skydive
• learn how to care for animals
• run a profitable business
• go to Brazil
• be a librarian

Just imagine where you could go with these ideas.

Spark Station here we come!!!

The Real Problem With Kits Isn’t The Kit

When I worked with individual families, this question came up often – should I let my kids use kits or have them work from scratch? I had listened to speakers and read articles that said absolutely no kits. By then, I had stopped living in a black-and-white world. I had learned to take my family, their needs, as well as my own, into consideration when deciding what was good for connection and learning. I had gotten brave enough to say, “I’m the expert in my home.” I surely didn’t know everything and still don’t, but I observed, pondered, and used my good sense. With that in mind, read what I’m sharing today about using kits with kids, and then do what’s right in your home, with your kids or grands.

My Thoughts

I didn’t use many kits in my Spark Station, a dedicated creative space in my home, but I would occasionally take one traveling, like the solar system kit someone gave me. Here are some things to consider.

•Kits can be fun, and kids love them. They also come with a challenge for parents: we tend to want to follow the directions. Kits work best when parents let go of the outcome. A perfect bar of soap isn’t as important as mixing, experimenting, and deciding what to do next. Failure can be a great learning tool.

•If used too often, kits can stifle creativity because there isn’t as much room for experimentation. Paint by number is never going to be as effective in getting a child to think as a blank piece of paper and tubs of paint. The finished product may be more eye appealing, but that isn’t the point, is it! We want kids to express themselves, think, and problem-solve. However, if you’re taking a long car trip, paint-by-number beats tubs of paint every time.

•Occasionally, a kit isn’t worth what you pay because the contents are skimpy, and you can assemble one yourself more affordably. You have to decide if the kit is worth the cost and if it will allow your child to expand their knowledge and creativity.

•Here’s the most important consideration: can you release the cost of the kit? This kind of thinking will stifle your child’s creativity and ability to explore, “I paid $15 for that kit, and you aren’t going to ruin it.” If you can’t let go of the cost, don’t buy it. If you must hover to make sure it gets done right, then kits are not a good choice for you.

Oh, the Places a Kit Can Go

Don’t abandon kits altogether, as long as you can let go of the cost and let kids make mistakes. What if you decided to put a telescope in your Spark Station, but you have a child who loves putting things together? In that case, a telescope kit might be perfect. I found one online for around $25, a great way to give a child a taste of engineering while learning and having fun.

So much of what we consider play is actually science, math, and more. While doing research for my book, Becoming a Present Parent, I was amazed by the variety of inexpensive kits available, but even more surprised by the categories. When I searched Chemistry for Children, I found everything from professional equipment to kits for kindergartners, including how to brew your own root beer, make chewing gum, craft homemade cheese, mix a perfume, make soap, build a candy factory, and create cosmetics. I’ll bet you have a child or grandchild who would be over the moon to try one of those.

A kit can also help you respond to a Spark, meaning whatever your child is currently excited or curious about. What if your daughter is all about hair and makeup, like my granddaughter Mary? You could add a cosmetics or perfume kit to your Spark Station. The next thing you know, her brother, dad, or little sister is helping her read the directions, and they’re off. That interest could eventually lead to herbs, medicines, or potpourri, especially if you add a few books on those topics to your Spark Station.

One more idea: you can get great inspiration for your Spark Station simply by browsing kits, even if you never buy one. What would you need on hand to do a similar project yourself? Take a terrarium, for example. You could add containers, a bag of soil, and a few small plants to your Spark Station. During family time, there will be no shortage of ideas about what to do with it all. Add a book on terrariums, and you might find yourself in a wonderful conversation about biospheres and ecosystems, with the right books nearby for every age in your family.

That’s what we hope for, that a simple kit or collection of supplies sparks curiosity, creativity, and connection. It may or may not unfold that way, and that’s okay. Like everything else in your Spark Station and family life, it’s all an experiment.

Kits are worth thinking about.
Give them a try, stay curious, and see where the sparks fly.

The Spark Station in Action: Real Families, Real Results Part 2

Let’s Begin where We Left Off – Keep It Simple: When It’s Full, Stop

Here’s a rule I wish I had understood earlier: when your Spark Station is full, stop adding things. You want everything visible, easy to reach, and put away — then stop. If you want to add something new, take something out.

Chaos happens when the Spark Station is too full. Here’s the thing — it’s rarely the children who create that chaos. It’s the parents. We get excited. We find wonderful things. We keep adding. And then no one engages because no one can find anything, and the whole space feels overwhelming.

When my grandchildren were younger, I had a Spark Station. One day, I did a big purge. I took nearly everything out. What remained were some books and materials on rocks that my grandchildren had been studying, some new craft supplies for an upcoming holiday, and the magnets — because the children never tired of them. That’s it. Simple, colorful, and interesting.

It also helps to reevaluate the contents every few months. Have children outgrown certain things? Are there games gathering dust, are there completed projects, or supplies that have lost their appeal? Take them out. Nothing in the Spark Station is permanent. It’s a living, changing space, and that’s what keeps it working.

Plan: Keep Your Eyes Open

Planning doesn’t have to be complicated or time-consuming. The mother who found dollar insect items at Target wasn’t sitting at a desk with a planner. She was simply paying attention to what her boys loved, and when she saw something that sparked them, she acted on it.

That’s the kind of planning I’m talking about. Watch your children. Listen to what they talk about. Notice what makes their eyes light up. What does your family like to do together at home — read, play outdoors, create games? Think about upcoming holidays. What’s happening in your family? What did you love as a child? Keep a running list if that helps. Then regularly sit down — even for thirty minutes — and think about what you might add or remove in the coming days. If parents have something specific they want to introduce, they can use the Spark Station to get the ball rolling.

Every Family Is Different — Don’t Be Afraid to Re-Tool

My daughter, Jodie, has four children, all of whom are teenagers. When she first started using the Spark Station, they were 7, 5, 3, and 18 months.

Jodie had decided to homeschool for a couple of years. Jack, her five-year-old, was convinced he needed a ‘real teacher’ — meaning anyone other than his mother.

I helped Jodie put together her first Spark Station. We chose wonderful hands-on items — sewing cards, coloring books and fresh crayons, magnets, a salt shaker with toothpicks to drop through the holes, dry-erase boards, games, books, colored pencils, and notebooks. We also added several special science projects, a family interest: a homemade coloring book, library books about scientists, a mobile to make, and a baking project.

The night before their first official use of the Spark Station, Jodie helped her kids make Earth spheres out of Rice Krispies treats, a family activity not part of the Spark Station. The kids loved it. They discussed how the Earth was created and how scientists continue to learn more. Jack was all over it.

When the Spark Station was opened, Jack took one look and said, “Mom, your school is boring. I’m going to cancel your school.” Disaster.

So, Jodie re-tooled. She removed the special learning projects. The simple, fun, hands-on items remained. The little ones dove right in. And Jack? He looked up and said, “Mom, I want to learn about knives.”

Jodie got a few knives, a tomato, and some potatoes. They spent the next hour learning about serration, sharp edges, how knives are used, and what it means to observe — which, as it turns out, was the exact topic of their first science project. Fabulous time. Sneaky mom.

The lesson here is not that you will always get it right on the first try, whether you’re using it as part of your school ambitions or for family activities. The lesson is that when something isn’t working, you step back, take a good look, and retool. Every family’s different. The rules stay the same, but how you apply them will be uniquely yours.

What About the Hard Days?

There will be times when your carefully planned Spark Station sits untouched while your child plays dress-up in the corner. There will be days when the baby’s screaming, the toddler’s grabbing everything in sight, and you wonder why you ever started this. There will be days — and I say this with love — when your five-year-old looks at everything you’ve prepared and tells you it’s boring. There will be days when you take out a book for family reading and your teenager goes to sleep. There will be days when you get the materials for a new outdoor game, and your 13-year-old daughter sits glumly on the sidelines because this doesn’t interest her.

That’s normal. In nearly every family I’ve mentored, we’ve had to talk about this. The Spark Station is designed to inspire families and kids, not require.

If today’s a disaster, remember the thing that matters most: the Spark Station’s greatest purpose is not the activity, it’s the connection it creates between you and your children over time. If no one wants to engage today, sit down, read, or talk about an upcoming holiday, trip, or family event. Next time will be better.

You Are the Model

I once asked a mom what had drawn her to my class on the Spark Station, though she had never heard of it before. She said she read the description and thought, “That’s a good idea.” The line that caught her eye was this: “Would you like a system that helps you more effectively structure creative connection time?”

That’s it. That’s what we’re all looking for. Not a perfect system, not a perfectly stocked Spark Station, but a reliable, workable way to show up for our children and make being together, playing together, and learning together a joyful part of family life.

The Spark Station gives you that system. But you’re still the heart of it. If you want your children to love learning, let them see you learning. If you want them to read, let them see you reading. If you want them to be curious about the world, be curious yourself. If you want them to engage with the family, then put down your phone, turn off the TV, and engage with them consistently. You put on your oxygen mask first, and then you help them with theirs.

The families who see the most transformation with the Spark Station are not the ones with the most creative content. They’re the ones who show up consistently, stay present, keep it simple, and keep going even when a day falls flat.

That’s the whole secret.
And now you have it.

Five Principles of Power Series – A Marvelous Example of Being Present

When my youngest daughter, Kate, was a senior in high school, she was in an advanced writing class. One of her assignments was to write a poem using iambic pentameter. She was overwhelmed by the assignment and wasn’t clear as to what iambic pentameter meant. They had talked about it in class, but most of you will relate to how clear it was by the time she got home. LOL

I want you to know I’m not a fan of poetry, unless it comes from Mother Goose. I’m a bit ashamed to admit it, and I know that I owe it to myself to read some poetry before I die. : ) My daughter, however, liked it a lot. She really enjoyed Shakespeare. She had read all of his works and all of his sonnets, watched many plays, and acted the part of Hero from “Much Ado about Nothing” in 8th grade. Here is another confession- I have read Romeo and Juliet and seen The Taming of the Shrew. That’s it.

So, it wasn’t a happy circumstance when she came to me and asked for help. I had no idea what iambic pentameter was. But how could I say no to my daughter who needed my support? So, we sat at the computer together and began. We looked up iambic pentameter. We read it. We gave each other a blank stare and then read it again. Now I may not love poetry, but I’m pretty good at figuring out what I read. I began to understand and was able to explain it to her. Then she was off and running.

We talked over possible topics for her poem. Then she chose one, which happened to be her own idea. Way to go, Kate. She told me the story she envisioned her poem telling. It was good, really good. Then she wrote the first line. I can see us pounding out the syllables into our hands and changing words until there were exactly ten syllables per line. We would come up with ordinary words and then check the Thesaurus to find words that were more descriptive, elegant, or fitting for the time period and topic. It was fun. We laughed a lot.

She wrote and rewrote for over 3 hours. I was there the whole time. I made suggestions whenever she was stuck on a word or a thought and asked for help. She seldom used the word I suggested, but it would spark her mind, and then she would come up with the perfect word by herself. She would look at me with an excited smile, raise her hand, and say, “Gimmie five.” I would, at regular intervals, say, “This is good; it’s really good. You’re amazing!”

Be With Me While I Write

When Kate was in her first year of college, she took a creative writing class. One assignment was to create an imaginary author and describe his/her life. She was to present a piece of the imaginary person’s writing and then analyze it. She decided to rewrite the poem she wrote in high school about a sailor’s widow. She was adjusting it to tell the story of a Civil War soldier’s widow.

One day, I peeked in her room to say hi and see what she was doing. “Mom, come in and let me read this to you.” I went in, and she read it to me. Then she asked me to sit down and help her out.

We reminisced about the time we worked on the original poem together; all those great feelings came back. We laughed about the experience and how fun it had been.

I sat on the side of her bed and watched her use the Thesaurus and the dictionary to find words she needed. I saw her look up Civil War information and get a feel for the time period. I didn’t say much. Her poem was coming along great. Eventually, I stood up, patted her back, and left her to her work. She didn’t really need me. She had learned through experience what to do.

This is a marvelous example of being present. What Kate had needed in high school, she wanted to feel again while creating her imaginary author and what they would have written. She wanted me to be present, to feel my support, have some of my focused time, and sense my enthusiasm for what she was doing. These are the things all kids need from time to time.

Kate wrote her poem in high school by herself. She thought she was asking me to help her do it. What she really asked was, be with me, care about me, and learn with me. This is Principle Two from The Five Principles of Power – Be Present.

Kate is raising three children of her own, and she understands not only how to write a poem in iambic pentameter, but she also knows how to be PRESENT. Enjoy Kate’s work from her high school days.

It’s now a few decades old, but still wonderful.

The Widow’s Walk

By Kate Johnson

Upon the widows’ walk forlorn, she stands.
Face gray, indistinct in the morning mist.
Iron railing, cold portent in her hands.
Heartache knocks, upon her cheeks he kissed.
Annals of mariner’s wives keeping pace,
Back and forth, eyes on the horizon.
Lives lost forty leagues below without trace.
Possibility, worry like poison.
Bells peal out, mournfully telling of loss,
Belaying her breath, they tacitly mock.
Mind shrouded, forever bearing the cross,
Endlessly trudging the high widow’s walk.
Hope springs eternal; they shall meet anon
Sighs a chantey to a roseate dawn.

The Education Adventure – Be an Example & Remember the Spark

I mentored parents for many years. I enjoyed this work, the friendships I made, and the changes I saw in families. In the early days, I worked with families that were homeschooling. Later, I added parents who educated their children in private and public schools. One of the issues for all parents was how to help children/youth want to learn, enjoy the process, and take responsibility for their learning. No one system insulates parents from this dilemma. I began writing a series of articles titled The Education Adventure. These articles contained real experiences, from real families. Their stories are helpful when working to help children take on the adventure of education.

Important Questions

These are two questions that often surfaced while mentoring. The answers vary widely from family to family and from child to child. Observing how other families manage can assist in answering these questions for your family.

• How do you help them want to learn?
• How can you help children/youth take responsibility for their learning?

An Example from a Real Family

I had the privilege of working with a family who had an 11-year-old boy. Let’s call him Mike. They homeschooled. But as many of us do, even when our kids are in public or private school, mom pushed him. She wanted him to succeed. She wanted him to be proud of himself. Every day there was a lot of math, reading, spelling, science, etc.

This doesn’t sound much different from the mom who is using a private or public school, does it? At the end of the day, we feel responsible for how our children are doing in their schoolwork. It often feels as if the quality of their work shines a reflection on us, as parents. Are we helping them enough? Are we making sure they’re getting their homework done? Are they enjoying the education process? Do we feel overwhelmed with their school stuff and all the other things we manage?

Back To The 11-Year-Old

Mike had become somewhat belligerent about schoolwork, especially math. When his mom reached out to me, she didn’t think her son liked school. I was able to share information on how to make it feel more enjoyable and gave her some tools. They were helpful to her children, but we really made significant progress when I met with her son.

When I asked Mike how he was feeling about school, he said he liked it. He liked doing things as a family. He enjoyed reading together and alone. This surprised his mom. I asked him how he felt about math. He said he loved it; it was one of his favorite things. This also surprised his mom. Then I asked a pointed question, “Then why do you fuss about doing your math?” He responded that sometimes he wanted to read instead. I had to laugh. Doesn’t that sound like all of us? Sometimes you have things you need to do, but you want to do something else, and it makes you feel grouchy. It’s one of the reasons my daughter, Jodie, lets her kids take an occasional ‘sick’ day. : )

Since math had been the big issue between him and his mom, I asked him why he loved math. He replied that he liked working things out and solving problems. I said, “Then you would probably like architecture. It uses math to solve problems and work stuff out.” He said he loved architecture. This was something his mom hadn’t known. She had never talked with him about his math, except to ask if his assignments were finished. That week, she got books on architecture from the library and set them out. One day, they spent time together looking at pictures of famous buildings and talking about them.

Here’s another hard place many parents find themselves, as Mike’s mother had. We know what needs to be done, but we aren’t watching our children to see what interests them. We aren’t engaging in conversation. We’re not listening. We’re busy with life, and we want them to get their schoolwork done and do it well. However, when we ask questions and respond to what interests our kids, we help them connect schoolwork to their goals and dreams.

Mike’s mom and dad attended a seminar I spoke at a few weeks after we began working together. We had a conversation about their son and his math. Just that day, he had gotten mad at his mom over the math homework. He didn’t want to attend their family devotional or participate in family reading. He accused his mom of making him get behind in math because of all this other, unimportant family stuff.

I listened as the parents talked about the situation, and then I asked, “Why are you taking responsibility for Mike’s math?” His parents weren’t sure how to respond. I mean, don’t all parents manage their kids’ education and make sure they do the work?

At our interview, I asked Mike how he felt about overseeing his education, about being responsible for whether he learned math. He said he liked being able to choose what to study every day, but worried about being in charge. He said, “Sometimes I like having someone tell me what to do. It’s scary feeling I’m in charge.” Here he was fussing when his mom told him what to do, but he was intimidated by managing himself. This is the lesson everyone must learn, at some point, to live successful lives. It’s wise for kids to practice being responsible before starting high school, leaving home, or going to college. His mom saw that we can’t (and shouldn’t) do it all for our kids. They must learn to take responsibility. I’m watching this unfold in my own home this year with one of my teenage grandsons. Accepting responsibility is not always easy.

Let me share a powerful quote from an old friend, Oliver DeMille. “Freedom is the powerful, essential ingredient required for the development of courage. Students may become comfortable with being told what to learn and when to learn it. They may feel some fear or insecurity when offered the opportunity to choose. They may require time to engage in study of their own choosing. There is nothing more powerful for a child…than a loving and concerned mentor who frequently displays the courage to try, the courage to learn new things, the courage to endure as they struggle to acquire new skills and to flex mental muscles they didn’t know they had. Gentle invitations can be made for children to come along in the great adventure of education.”

I’ve written about the importance of parents continuing their own education (this can be in community classes, higher education, or good old-fashioned reading) because it builds confidence; confidence that the parent can learn and be an example to their family. It builds confidence in the child that they can learn by following the example their parents are setting for them. Parents need to model the behavior they want to see in their children.

I’ve also written articles on the value of seeing children’s sparks, what they are truly interested in, and how responding to those sparks can ignite a love of learning, which carries over into subjects they aren’t as passionate about. This is successful in all types of educational systems.

Ask Questions, Listen, & See the Spark

It’s hard to see sparks if we aren’t talking with and listening to our children. Mike loved math, but the only conversation he had with his parents about it was whether he had finished the worksheets. Think of all the wonderful ways this spark could be used to spur his desire to learn math on his own, to take responsibility for his education. His mom had followed up by getting books, and they were planning to visit an architect’s office to see what an architect does.

Sparks and your example are two things that can make a difference in your child’s personal education. You are the mentor for your children, regardless of where they attend school. It’s hard to convince your child that education matters if you’re not somehow engaged yourself. We can only invite our child to join us in the great adventure of education if we’re taking that adventure ourselves.

Remember what Dr. DeMille said, “There is nothing more powerful for a child than a loving and concerned mentor who frequently displays the courage to try, the courage to learn new things, the courage to endure as they struggle to acquire new skills and to flex mental muscles, they didn’t know they had. Gentle invitations can be made for children to come along in the great adventure of education.”

So, learn to tie fishhooks, learn cake decorating, take up Spanish, begin sewing, attend a community education class, or have a book in the bathroom that you read daily. Let your children see you learning. Talk to them about the challenges and joys, and they will begin to share their feelings with you. This makes for great dinner conversations. When you make this effort, it can ignite a love of learning and a desire to take responsibility. I’ve seen this work over and over again.