To Take Their Mother's Lead

One of the best things we've done for our kids, besides the positive discipline parenting, the Kidpower parenting, the empathic parenting, is to let them be and become.

Meaning, to let them become who they already were, are, and will be. 

Of course, we've had our own thoughts on what we've wanted them to become, but never at the expense of their own decision making. Their own mistakes. Their own regrets. They own successes. 

A teen's prefrontal cortex is still in its infancy, and it has until later in the 20's to fully develop. This means that teens often rely on the amygdala, which is the emotional center, and that leads to heightened emotions, risk-taking, and impulsive behavior.

But that doesn't mean they can't learn the coping mechanisms they'll need to deal with the adulting stressors of life that have only just begun. Because it begins in childhood today, no matter how loving and supportive you are as parents.

Kids can be more resilient than most parents think they can. We struggled and stressed about our own kids' struggles and stresses about their own social anxieties and mental health. At some point, both have had their own breakthroughs; they've adapted, overcome, and are thriving. These are great personal leadership skills to develop and practice whatever those "anxieties" are. That includes us the parents getting them whatever supports and resources they may need at the time they need. 

Kids can also know more about who they are and how they identify than most parents want to believe. That makes it hard for adults who have specific beliefs and ideologies about who their children are and who they should be. Sexual orientation and gender identity, for example. Our youngest was clear when they told us they were queer and identified as they/them. We've been nothing but supportive parents, and staunch allies, ever since. They were even nominated for a youth leadership award this year for the march they organized last year. 

Before we wanted to have children, it was my wife Amy who opened me up to endless possibilities with our lives. To always look at life through eyes of love without judgement or shame. To learn and adapt as best I could. That was hard at first, but I got there. 

When we changed our minds about children, then we were all in on being the best parents we could be. That they would learn to embrace and manifest endless possibilities that we believe in. That we would guide them and teach them as best we could. Again, they have to develop their own decision making. Make their own mistakes. Own their own successes. And hopefully learn to limit regrets. 

That's a constant work in progress, and no matter what, one of the best things we've done for our kids is to let them be and become. 

One of the best things I've done for myself and our kids is to take their mother's lead. For that, we are all grateful. 

Happy Mother's Day.

It's A Win

When our oldest Beatrice pointed out we hadn't shared what we were grateful for the night before, we told her that we had. 

"No, we didn't," she said.

Her mom Amy said, "Yes, we did. We said we were grateful for our family."

"Yes, and I said I was grateful that you and your sister have your own rooms now," I added.

"Oh, okay," Bea said. She looked thoughtful. "What are you grateful for today?"

I smiled because now our kids remind us to share what we're grateful each day, and we don't have to be the ones to always ask, even with the fact that we now have teens. That's a parenting win for us. One that keeps our family grounded in what's good and what we're thankful for. 

We've been sharing what we're grateful for at dinner every night for nearly five years now going back to when we started our weekly family meetings where we share compliments, gratitude, appreciation and "noticing" -- something nice we notice about each other and/or ourselves that we share as a family, like being brave in everyday situations. 

Sharing what we are grateful for became a nightly ritual that simply adds blessings to our family bond and our love for one another. It really does. Especially when one of has had a bad day and we feel like there's nothing to celebrate, and yet, without having to dig deep, we always find something to be grateful for. 

Because there always is something. There has to be something. There's a continuous greater purpose of positive living, loving, and appreciation that's bigger than any one crappy moment. And I've had a lot of crappy moments this year with work. It's been rough in the recruiting and human resources space I'm in and the small candidate experience research firm I run is struggling. We've had to lay off a team member and it might get worse soon. 

However, as my wife tells me all the time, always be grateful for endless possibilities, because we're not the sum of our crappy moments. We're constantly the culmination of love and possibility, and those times are now again. Always in the now again. It doesn't mean that there won't be obstacles to overcome, but when you're grateful even for those no matter the mirrored contradiction, it's a win. Without those and endless possibilities, what would be the point? Thankfully I don't worry about that question anymore. I'm grateful for where I'm at this very moment with myself and my family. 

Endless Possibilities Actually

"Dad, those people are pointing at our car."

A car passed us and I could see some kids pointing at us. Right after our oldest Beatrice said that, a trucker passed us and honked. Then I saw the smoke. White smoke that billowed out from the front of our Santa Fe Hyundai. 

"Shit," I said. "We've got to pull over." I aways cuss a lot when I'm stressed out. 

It was Memorial Day weekend and we were less than two miles from our final exit and less than four miles from our final destination at the KOA campground in Visalia. My wife Amy and I had no idea what was wrong with our car, but I knew that we all needed to get out of it in case it caught fire. 

"Everybody get out of the car," I said, waving the family out. "Fuck," I then said under my breath. 

Once outside of the car, Amy said we should unhook our trailer camper in case there was a fire. Seconds passed that felt like hours. I called my sister, who we were going to see, and then I called for roadside assistance. Cars and trucks blurred past us on the highway. We told our kids to stay away from the highway and hold our dog Jenny. 

Twenty minutes later, as we waited to hear back about the roadside assistance, the white smoke finally subsided. Thankfully there was no car fire. We had put our dog back in the car so she wouldn't get more stressed and try to get away. 

"We have to get to the campsite," Amy said. I agreed and knew it would be a risk to drive again, but that's what we did. I started the Hyundai, pushed the flashing hazard lights button, waited for an opening in the highway, and pulled out. I drove white-knuckled all the way to the campground. We made it there without anymore white smoke, but the engine light did come on. Two weeks before all this we had just had the car serviced. Nothing was wrong then, although they did overfill our oil and not tighten our oil filter all the way, which was something we had to deal with before this trip. We didn't realize then how much foreshadowing that was. 

Of course it was Memorial Day weekend, so by the time we got to the campground, the Hyundai Dealer in town was already closed. We set up camp and my sister came and got us and took us back to her house for dinner. After that, she let us use one of her cars, which was actually my parents car before they had both passed away.

The next day a dear old high school friend who was a mechanic came out to take a look at my car and verified that transmission fluid was leaking from the car and that's what had sprayed onto the engine and smoked. We took our Santa Fe to a local lube and oil place and they ran a diagnostic that confirmed why the engine light went on: the might be an issue with the torque converter in the automatic transmission. And yes, the transmission fluid had leaked out. 

"Shit."

The service center at the Hyundai dealer in town wouldn't be open again until the Tuesday after Memorial Day, so we had to strategize on what to do next. The plan had always been to go home on Memorial Day Monday because we had to get back to work and our kids had appointments. But it was still only Sunday, and Amy and our daughters attended my niece's bridal shower while I hung out with Jenny and worked and wrote. After that, we hung out again at my sister's. 

We still had a nice visit overall, but the whole time I kept worrying about what was wrong with our car and what we were going to have to do about it. 

[More cussing in my head.]

But then my old friend had offered to tow our trailer camper back home and my sister offered to let us use the same car so Amy and our kids could get home. That's what we did on Memorial Day: my family made it home safely and I rode eight hours with my friend to drop off our trailer in Santa Cruz and return to Visalia. We were so grateful to my friend and my sister for all their help. 

What happened when I took our Santa Fe to the local dealer service the next day was completely anti-climatic to how the whole holiday weekend started. In the end, there was nothing wrong with our transmission or anything else. During our last car service back home just two weeks earlier, they had overfilled our transmission fluid by over two quarts. They had also overfilled our oil and not fully tightened the oil filter, which we already knew about. We'd been taking our car to that Hyundai dealer service for seven years and nothing like this had ever happened, until now. 

Two days after Amy and our girls went home, Amy drove my sister's care back to Visalia and we returned home in our car. The universe realigned.

When life goes sideways (in this case with car trouble), our first rule is always safety first for the family. Everything else is just time and money and transitory pains in the asses that will not always be recoverable, but because we're still here living and breathing, there's always the possibility of recovery. Endless possibilities actually. 

That's why the second rule is, we make the most of our moments, wherever they are and however they are. Stewing in uncertainty results in angst-filled inaction, which I'm certainly still guilty of, but endless possibilities make all the difference in the end. Reconnecting with an old friend and spending more time with my sister were moments I wouldn't have had otherwise. Again, we're so grateful for their help.