Safety, comfort and joy

I don't treat my children as partners. I was, from the time they were babies, partnered with them. I was the older, more experienced, more responsible partner. I protected our team, which often meant I sheltered them from things that would have upset them or that they didn't care anything in the world about. I've done that for my husband, too, who's been my official legal partner since 1984 when we declared our partnership in front of relatives and friends, God and the State of New Mexico.

With my kids, it was a posture I took, partly physical, partly mental, in which I accepted and recognized that I had the power to make them unhappy, and the easy ability to allow them to be in danger (from me, in part) if I wasn't really mindful and careful to focus on their safety, comfort and joy.

"Partners," examined
Photo by my friend Annaliese, with my camera, in 1998, for sending to Keith who was working 1200 miles away. Click it to enlarge, and to read more about those kids, those days.

Peaceful Memories

Being gentle can relieve stress. Being gentle "gentles" us.

If you can recall a moment when you comforted an animal, you are remembering a good-hearted action. If you can think of four, or six, times that you made another creature feel safer, warmer, happier, you might induce the same feelings you had then.

Peaceful memories can be soothing.

Pets
photo by Ester Siroky

A memory, a moment, a hug

Robyn Coburn wrote:

My attitude continues to make the greatest difference to my happiness. Most of my needs are met in joyfully giving and being with my family. Those that are not met that way, are more able to be met when my daughter and husband are already happy and feeling generous. And if I am feeling like I need a break, I can take one in the space of a breath, a memory, a moment, a hug.

—Robyn Coburn

SandraDodd.com/friend
photo by Sandra Dodd (not my house; not Robyn's house)

Mindset and language

A reader named Eleanor wrote:

I was very grateful to discover your writings on ‘struggle’ and the compilation on your website relating to ‘struggle‘ a few years ago.

I still read it regularly and get so much more from it with each read. It sparked a change in mindset and language which improved our unschooling lives massively.

Lax and relax
photo by Sandra Dodd

Peace and excitement

Enjoy quiet moments, but be ready to jump.

Sometimes you're a calm, safe place, and other times you're an action hero, to your kids and maybe to others. Rest when you can, but keep your shoes near.

Unschooling: Getting It
photo by Sandra Kardaras-Flick

Cycles

Yesterday I posted about how I got my kids into grocery stores, from parking lots, safely.

While seeing whether the quote had been used before, I found a similar report, with this comment, from me:

Sometimes I would say "Hold on to something! I'm going to hold on to Marty!" so that it wasn't just a thing 'kids had to do,' but was a safety condition of crowdedness.

Now that I'm older, I still sometimes want to hold on to one of my kids when we're out, but now it's because I'm safer if they help me. Holly has held my hand crossing streets just this year, and she's 21. Marty and Kirby have helped me down stairs and off of steep curbs.

It's not just for children.

I need even more help now, nine years later. Sometimes I help a grandchild or two.
Hold on to something (third comment)
photo by Brie Jontry, 2016, before a Halloween party
She and Holly were irritating maids, and I was a scraggly cat.

Hold on principle

Instead of having a rule that kids had to hold my hand in a parking lot, I would park near a cart and put some kids in right away, or tell them to hold on to the cart (a.k.a. "help me push", so a kid can be between me and the cart). And they didn't have to hold a hand. There weren't enough hands. I'd say "Hold on to something," and it might be my jacket, or the strap of the snugli, or the backpack, or something.

Toddlers
photo by Gail Higgins