Happy and interested

Deb Lewis wrote:

If your daughter doesn't want to leave something interesting to go to the table to eat, take food to her. Sit with her and eat together.

That's the same kind of sharing you could do at a table. Food eaten in front of the TV or computer with a happy mom who is interested in you is much better than food shared in grudging silence and anger.

Wouldn't you be grateful to a friend who brought you food if you were in the middle of something important? I'm always grateful when my husband brings home a pizza or Chinese food when I'm having a really busy day.

—Deb Lewis

SandraDodd.com/deblewis
photo by a realtor, of Janine's former garden
(they've moved)

Foggy confusion

I've always been uncomfortable with the idea of "self-regulation." Regulation has to do with rules—creating and enforcing rules. I like the idea that children will find a balance. And it has helped me in moving from kneejerk what-would-my-mom-do (when my kids were babies I worked consciously to make decisions a better way) to try to avoid using phrases of children that I wouldn't use of adults. I don't say my husband self-regulates his leisure time, or that my friend self-regulates her diet or that my sister self-regulates her housekeeping.

People will come [to a discussion] and say "I've given him freedom, when will he self-regulate?" and I think (though I've never asked) they mean "When will he somehow do what I would have made him do if I were making him do things?" Some newer unschoolers are similarly waiting for their kids to ask to learn biology, or to wake up one morning eager to write a book report.

SandraDodd.com/self-regulation
photo by Karen James

A better friend

"One of my epiphanies as a parent actually came when I realized I was not being as good a friend to my own kids as I was to my adult friends. Changing that made a world of difference."

—Lyla Wolfenstein

SandraDodd.com/quotes
photo by Sandra Dodd
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The trick is...

We were at a bar-b-q party and a 5 yr old friend dug into the cooler, pulled out a coke-a-cola and asked his Ma could he have it.

She said, "Heavens no, especially with that chocolate cake on your plate."

She then looked at me asking, "How do you do it?"

I told her, "I don't restrict what my kids eat," and pointed to their plates. XuMei had watermelon, strawberries, green beans and chocolate cake on her plate. Xander had chosen salmon, corn on the cob, watermelon, strawberries and a root beer to drink.

Later I was telling Chris (my spouse) the story and Xander, who I thought was asleep in the back of the van, perked up and said, "The trick is, there is no trick."

SandraDodd.com/eating/candid
photo by Sarah S.

Being a child's friend

Pam Sorooshian, on being a child's friend:

There is nothing wrong with wanting to be your child's friend. Do what it takes to earn their friendship—be supportive and kind and honest and trustworthy and caring and generous and loyal and fun and interesting and interested in them and all the other things that good friends are to each other. Be the best 40 year old friend you can be (or whatever age you are).


People use "I'm the parent, not a friend," as an excuse to be mean, selfish, and lazy. Instead, be the adult in the friendship. Be mature. You've BEEN a five-year-old and your child has not been a forty-year-old, so you have an advantage in terms of long-term and wider perspective. Use that advantage to be an even better friend. You know how to be kinder and less self-centered and you know how beneficial it is to put forth the effort.

—Pam Sorooshian

SandraDodd.com/friend
photo by Sandra Dodd, of six-year-old Adam and his mother and friend, Julie

Private ideas

I love museums. Museums of any sort are special to me, and sometimes I'm thinking about the building or whose idea it was or where the funding comes from to keep the lights and heat on, and to hire people to keep it all safe and clean.

What others are thinking in a museum, even if they're with me, could never be exactly the same. An object will, without fail, remind me of a personal experience, or of when or where I first learned of such things. If it's SO NEW to me that I'm surprised, I tend to think of which friend of mine, alive or dead, I would most like to share it with, or to ask about it. Sometimes that's my dad, especially if the object is an old truck, or a metal structure.

Sometimes I've been the person one of my kids shared something with. That's sweet, and I get to know a bit about what they're connecting to and with.

Long ago, I came to see the whole world as a museum. I love that, too.

SandraDodd.com/museum
photo by Rippy Dusseldorp

Absent witnesses

In a discussion about mothers of young children imagining their actions are being witnessed, I wrote:

I did that early on with my favorite La Leche League leaders. I invited them early, into my super-ego, to talk to me when they weren't there. 🙂 Trying to keep their voices in my head made me remember that I wouldn't want to do things that would keep them from feeling good about my progress and their assistance.

I think it's the purpose of saints (imagery in the house or worn on the body) or amulets or other religious or superstitious objects. I mean I think it's natural and ancient, among people, to have absent witnesses. The feeling that ancestors can see what we're doing is common in some cultures (and, honestly, ours—it came up at my house on Tuesday at a memorial for a dead friend, even though most there were atheists; it can be soothing, and inspiring).

SandraDodd.com/witness
photo by Jihong Tang

Philosophical cookies

What makes "a watermelon cookie"? These didn't taste like watermelon. They weren't made of watermelon. The term here is all about their appearance.

Watermelon is usually considered to be healthy, but tourists and host families in India are reminded that if someone should not drink "the local water," that they should also avoid watermelon, as that fruit takes in and stores some of the potentially dangerous (to visitors) elements of local water.

These cookies have nothing to do with India, or with bad water, except wait.... I just connected them, in a way.

Some parents might cringe (or worse) at the idea of my joy in something involving sugar and food coloring, but as I'm already talking about memories and connections, I can remind readers that parental disapproval (especially when it's overblown or overstated) does more damage than sugar-coated food-colored sugar with chocolate chips ever could.

I learned the watermelon cookie recipe from a younger friend, when she asked me if I could make them for her wedding reception. I did. She had horses. My daughter, who was eight years old or so and learning to braid, was able to help groom and braid the mane of one of those horses, and work some ribbons in there somehow. Later she did that with people, and My Little Ponies.

My granddaughter wasn't born when all that happened, but now she has helped make those cookies. She might never meet Sarah, who had watermelon-cookie memories from her own childhood.

Connections and memories involve people, places, newnesses, learning, amusement, trivia, and thoughts about the meaning of life, and of reality. The more naturally people can see and appreciate those things, the better life and learning will be.


Report on the making of watermelon cookies
Photos by Sandra Dodd—
this one is a link:

Going forward

Janine Davies wrote:

Respectful parenting and parenting for social change is where my main focus is now, and of course radical unschooling is all those things and more. For me, that all begins and ends with being a good mum in the eyes and minds of my children, and going forward being remembered as a kind respectful and happy mum—someone they could trust implicitly, and who was their partner and friend.

Hopefully they will then carry that forward to how they treat their children, regardless of what the current trend is, or fears they have, or the current scaremongering circulating. Even if they don't have children of their own, my hope is that they treat and speak to all children that they come in contact with throughout their lives with the same respect and kindness that they afford their partners and friends, and that they treat them like the people they are.

—Janine Davies

SandraDodd.com/janine/success
photo by Jihong Tang
(her son's painting, left)

The best friend you can be

Instead of "You're the parent, not their friend," substitute, "Be the very very best friend to them you can possibly be."

—Pam Sorooshian

Friendship in Families
photo by Sandra Dodd

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.

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)

Thoughts about stability

There are some bugs that are born in my yard and might live there their whole lives. Or they might move to the neighbors'. When we buy firewood, we usually import some bark beetles, unintentionally.

The birds we feed in front don't stay all year. Because there are lizards, a roadrunner visits sometimes.

There are worms in the compost bins. Some are descendants of worms I bought, from Florida, by mail, but other bigger ones voluntarily come up from the New-Mexico ground into the compost each summer.

For many years, there were three kids growing up here. Many of their friends visited, and ate, and slept. Now they're all off in other houses.

Is there no stability in the world?

I try to be a stable, solid factor, but I'm changing, too. Keith, that father of my children, that friend of so many years, is still here. I will be kind to him while he is, while I can.

Understanding Unschooling
photo by Sandra Dodd

Eye to eye

When encountering another being, consider which of you might be a danger to the other.

If the other being is a friend or relative of yours, try not to be a scary or dangerous creature.

SandraDodd.com/peace/
photo by Karen James

Windows, and grown children

The pandemic made me appreciate the views from windows. I loved seeing so many exotic window views shared on facebook.

My youngest has her own house now. For a few months, she had a housemate, who is pregnant. The baby's father died, during the pregnancy. Holly had known the friend years ago, and invited her in to rest and recover.

A few days ago, Holly let me know she had been 200 miles away, overnight, helping the roommate move to another town to be with her mom, in a new place. This view is from that new window.

I brought that story to let you know that someday those little children at your house will grow up, and you might find them being compassionate and generous in ways you will only learn about after the fact. They will see beauty, out windows in other places, and might send you a photo.

SandraDodd.com/generosity
photo by Holly Dodd

Balance

Words and image by Pati Nagle, a longtime friend, former housemate, author.
Shared on facebook 9 August 2021.

Are we? Am I?

Anna Black wrote:

Now I think... Is my child happy, healthy, connected? Are we moving towards partnership? Are we having fun right now, at this moment? Am I treating my children as well or better as I would treat my husband or my friend? If yes, great. If not, change, make a different choice.

—Anna Black

Gratitude and choices
photo by Ester Siroky
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Intangible souvenirs

If you have any shaming or controlling voices in your head, think of how they got there, and how you might avoid becoming one in someone else's head.

Say things your child, partner, friend or neighbor will remember warmly.

Voices in your head
photo by Kelly Drewery
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Get witnesses

One suggestion for moving toward more peaceful parenting:

Get witnesses.That's one reason people join support groups and confess to their friends what they're doing, because you've told somebody what your intention is. You've told them what your problem is and what your intention is and now you have witnesses and for some people that helps. Sometimes it needs to be an imaginary witness, sometimes it needs to be a real witness. But maybe, if it will help you, imagine that the friend that you most want to impress is there and would you do it if they were there.

SandraDodd.com/parentingpeacefully
photo by Sandra Dodd
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Optimistic happy people

Alex Polikowsky wrote:

Surround yourself with optimistic happy people. Do not engage in conversation when people are complaining about their children or husbands. If a friend comes to complain about her kids I try to turn around and point out to them how that characteristic could be good or some other great thing about their children. Or I change the subject.

Look at what you have, not what you do not have. If all you focus is in negative things that is all you will see. If you always look for the positive slowly you will, more and more, see the positive and the beauty around you and that will become who you are.

—Alex Polikowsky

SandraDodd.com/
photo by Daniel Moyer Artisan