Bumps

This morning has been one of healing.  Yes, the first melt-down has occurred.  I'm thoroughly embarrassed to say that it was me that initiated it.  Aaaaggg!

I know myself well enough to know that the constant pull for attention through questions, and giggles, and conflicts to be resolved, and "look-at-me's" would surface much of my anxiety.  

As I sit writing this morning, there is at my feet creating and drawing and children seeking help, inclusion, and affirmation.

Armed with this self-awareness, I wondered how I would do having a house full of family.  I wondered how I would continue the self care I've worked so hard to develop.  I wondered how I would handle the bumps as we attempt to blend these two families.  

My first observation is that the meaning of "no" is quite difficult to determine when you blend two households.  I find myself inclined to respond as such to a question posed by my nieces or nephews only to freeze in the conversation inside my head: Would my sister allow this?  If she would refuse as well, would she stick to it?  How will this effect my family? Will allowing them make it difficult to hold my ground with my own children?

I'm recalling a book I started to read, but abandoned.  The author, a sociologist, wrote of her own parenting experience in which she denied little and lived the value of including the voice of her children in everything.  My initial reaction was as mixed as my emotions are this morning.  Surely the idea of valuing children's voices, seeing them as part of the whole rather than 'less than,' empty vessels devoid of any ability to have a meaningful opinion, is a beautiful value to espouse. Isn't it equally important to teach boundaries and respect and limits and coping?  At what point do you trust your own instincts, rather than the desires of a four-year old?  

Something about her writing made me want to read on.  

Something about her writing made me want to scream.

Last night, I went with those instincts and said 'no.'  I did it with too much force, too much emotion, too much attachment.  I took it all personally - the ignoring, the sibling rivalry, the tired displays of disrespect.  And I know better.

I am mixed with feelings of guilt juxtaposed with feelings of justification at my disciplinary explosion.  Not the way I did it, but that it needed to be done.  My behavior has alienated at least one of my nieces and, somehow, I'll need to work to mend this relationship.  We can.  I am certain of this.  It seems strange, though, how much one tense evening can change the shape of an otherwise fun and full experience.

Today, we hit the reset button.  We'll set more clear expectations. Of ourselves. Of each other.

We'll include the voices of our children in that conversation.  

And we'll move on - one lesson learned, one bump behind us.