A story of contrast for you.

A national park. Steep cliffs. Overlooks accessible to anyone, with signs indicating extreme care to be taken because of the drop-offs.

A mom and a six-year-old. Let’s call her Susannah. Mom and daughter cruising around on the rocks, mom taking photos, as were all who were absorbing the incredible beauty.

Susannah, being six and curious and unable to keep her dancing feet still, bounced all over the rocky overlook. Very near the steep drop-offs. VERY near.  Mom, still taking photos, calling over her shoulder, Susannah come here. Susannah, not so close! Susannah, I want you next to me. Come here right now. Susannah, one, two, three…listen to me!”

Susannah? “I’m just stopping right here, mom! I want to go over there. Mom! Can you see me? Mom! Look at me!!”

Mom, still taking photos and calling over her shoulder for her daughter to stay closer to her–all to no avail and all to increasing concern to those others also enjoying the over look. Mom’s anxiety increased, her frustrations communicated, her anger felt…and her words continue to fly over her shoulder with no follow-through other than more words. Her daughter totally and completely ignored her words and kept vying for her attention.

(Yes, ultimately all ended well, with the child safe and sound).

Fast forward 20-minutes and to another beautiful overlook with steep cliffs and drop-offs. A father with a three-year-old sitting together out on one of the outcrops–not entirely near the edge, but still rather edgy .  As he said, his wife didn’t like where they were sitting…(dads just seem to do it differently…)  

Father: “See out over there? All those canyons? Water carved them. Lots and lots of water whooshed through all this rock a really long time ago and left it carved just like this.”

Three-year-old: “Daddy, I can see the WHOLE world from here!”

Daddy had his three-year-old sitting on his lap with his arms snug around her when I approached and offered to take a photo of them together, with the backdrop the intensely beautiful and deep canyons all around. He accepted, and then the two moved off their rock and offered to do the same for my husband and me.

But first, here is what he said to his preschooler:

Honey, I need you to go up to those rocks there and sit still while I take a photo.”  He watched calmly as his little one headed right over to the safe rocks to sit. “Can you look with just your eyes for a little brown lizard who might come visit while you sit still?”  Eyes got BIG and his three-year-old froze on the rocks, with just her eyes moving…

A photo of my husband and me was taken, a little girl sat tight in a safe place, and daddy and she, following his thank you to her for listening and being safe, skipped hand-in-hand up the trail to their parked car.

A story of contrast.

The mom in my first story was truly letting her anxiety over wanting desperately to control Susannah without having to actually control Susannah become a very serious safety issue. Because of mom’s anxiety–as seen both by her “checking out” as she continued to focus on her camera rather than following through with her words and going to her daughter to hold her hand and keep her close–Susannah really didn’t know where she stood in the scheme of things.  Mom was saying one thing and doing something entirely different.

Susannah was trying hard to get mom to

connect with her and mom was trying hard to have Susannah mind without having to do the work it requires. Ultimately, there was a complete DIS-connect.

 

I get this–the desire to have our children under control without doing the hard work of actually controlling them. It’s hard, this  guiding them in a gently firm way to help them learn that in some places hands just need to be held, and bodies aren’t allowed to go just anywhere. I get how hard it is. It requires a commitment from us that oftentimes can be exhausting.  Interruptive, even, as we try to do things that perhaps WE want to do.

I also know I was seeing a relationship that probably was rocky without the current rocks they were on.

I heard the nag factor. I heard the bribing. I heard the anxiety and fear and frustration and anger. I heard the desire for connection and attention and I saw the testing that emerged as a result of a lack of connection and attention.

And I saw how, when we try so hard to make our kids NOT do something, we actually increase the likelihood they will do it. Hence a 6-year-old dancing near the edge of a VERY steep drop-off.

Dad in the second story demonstrated exactly the

kind of relating that has a child listening, exhibiting self-control, learning–all because dad was calm, clear, and gently firm.

 

He knew clearly the extent he could trust his little one. He focused on calm connection. He LIVED calm connection. He spoke with quiet confidence with his daughter; he asked of her just what he knew he could expect from her. AND he kept a close and watchful eye.

His daughter? She could trust him. She could count on what he said he meant and would do. She heard his confidence in HER that he had and she wanted very much to be that capable little one he knew she could be. He never told her what NOT to do and instead told her exactly what she COULD do. And she did.

What a tribute to the

power of calm connection,

of being clear and confident

in what you do.

 

Or at least working towards clarity and confidence!  And what a way to have me wanting even more to support, encourage, and empower each of you so you can experience more confidence, connection, cooperation and JOY in your parenting journey.

What a difference. I keep thinking about this and about how I hope Susannah’s mom finds the support and encouragement she needs in order to calm her anxiety down and feel more confident as a parent before a real crisis occurs. If I could have, I would have stepped in and offered something–perhaps my appreciation for how she was feeling, my understanding of how scary it is to see your child so near to danger. It wasn’t the time or place. And the Ranger was there, Susannah ultimately was safe.

And yet, I continue to think about this mom and her daughter, mom feeling what could only be a growing discontent in how her relationship with her daughter was unfolding.

Today, I encourage you to work hard at pausing. At acting-as-if you are calm and confident if you don’t actually feel it yet.

Recall times you have felt this way for what we focus on grows. Put your attention to letting calm connection lead the way–it is powerful. So much real learning and relationship-building things can unfold as a result!  Work at it just a little bit harder today, right now, or maybe tonight when you have the support of your spouse or partner or the comfort of being home rather than out in public. Do what YOU can to slow down enough to PAUSE, settle a bit, and then respond to your button-pushing child.

No matter when you practice leading with calm connection,

know what a relationship-building difference it can make.

 

Find all of Alice’s books here!

And know that, as you practice a PAUSE and pay attention to the calm you CAN feel, it will get easier bit by bit. What a gift to you, your child, to ALL of your relationships.

Thinking of all of you today as you strive to parent well!

Alice
Author and Parent Coach

©2017  Alice Hanscam