I went into my kid’s room and noticed my two year old, Jack, had turned every single drawer upside down.

Ughhh! I just wanted to find peace today.

I didn’t get fully triggered, however, until my daughter in her whiniest voice said, “My eggs are cold and I’m not eating this waffle!”

A brief, hang on a second as I whisked my way outside to scream (literally).

This is not the peaceful day I was planning on.

I come back inside and, happily, Sierra explained how I put the eggs in a bowl and the water from the cooked eggs is soaking into the waffle. I quickly bite off the soggy pieces, give her some empathy, and she, feeling comforted and heard, finishes her eggs and what’s left of her dry waffle.

By 10:00 am, I’m co-facilitating a class with twenty Zen Parents on how to use compassionate communication at home. I can see them and they can see me and, more importantly in my mind, they can see my kids.

Insecure thoughts creep in, “Sweet Jesus, I hope they don’t notice how rambunctious my kids are. Who am I to teach them; they should be teaching me?” I notice how their kids just patiently sit in their laps. Oh, note to self, “I’m totally comparing right now. Kid’s jobs are not to be robotic, but to dump drawers upside down and see what happens when they whine. It’s all about exploring cause and effects.”

The day’s is filled with kids being kids and me wondering why I can’t relax.

Jack wakes up from his nap screaming at the top of his lungs. I encourage him to use his words, but for 45 minutes, I get nothing but high-pitched squeals of pain. I don’t know if he’s bleeding internally, had a nightmare, or just isn’t ready to wake up.

I do know he loves water. So I draw a bath and we both get in.

Trying to control my kids and chase the holy grail for peace isn’t working, so I finally take a breath, surrender, and ask for some back up.

My roommate is home and she agrees to make sure the kids don’t impale themselves on anything sharp.

I grab a beer and choose to watch an hour of NFL Live on my computer.

And that’s when it happens. I take care of my feelings of relief and need for rest.

Like magic, the kids do what they do best and throw all the pillows and cushions around the house on the floor and start launching themselves from the chair to the sofa to the floor.

And with a sip of beer and watching two grown men in helmets tackle each other, I ironically meet my need for peace and reconnect to my body.

After a 30 minute break, I’m back in my heart and feeling re-energized for the rest of the night.

Except for Jack’s bloody nose, but that stopped in like two minutes.

Monday Mindfulness for Finding Peace Amidst the Chaos of Parenting

Don’t do it alone. If you’re single or your partner isn’t available to help, make plans for someone in your community to give you an hour of relief.

Notice your comparison jackals. I’m guessing you are the harshest judge of your parenting. Take a breath and remember what you are doing right.

Mindfulness doesn’t always occur with meditation or yoga. It can happen watching TV, drinking a beer or doing just about anything. Let go of being a perfect parent and be a parent who compassionately loves themselves and their kids.

This can lead to dominating your child or to compassionate connection.

“The cause of happiness come rarely and many of the seeds of suffering, but if I have no pain, I’ll never long for freedom; therefore oh my mind be steadfast.”

Pema Chodron translates the timeless teaching of 8th Century Poet Shantideva.

As a parent the emotion of anger can surprisingly pop up and create all sorts of havoc in daily encounters with our kids.

Pema helps illuminate how pain has it’s virtues and how we can learn form our anger in her audiobook “Don’t Bite the Hook.”

Click Here to Listen to her translation.

If you’re interested you can find the audio program here.

I’ve texted, talked, and eaten while driving; I’ve rocked a baby while watching a video online; I have frequented Starbucks, WellsFargo, and Walgreen’s pharmacy drive-throughs.

All to get my need for more time met.

As a culture we are time obsessed.

From “Getting Things Done” to “Bigger, Stronger, Faster, Better” we are living in a rushed era that is trying to finally get to a point of arrival.

In our hurried states, we can tend to get locked into wanting life to show up a certain way.

And when this happens:

Sometimes, we forget to breathe.

Sometimes, we forget to identify our needs instead of the strategy to get those needs met.

Sometimes, we forget that more time isn’t necessary to connect with our family.

The fact is that there are only 24 hours in a day and that no matter how hard and fast we run as parents, there is always more to do.

So, here we are time obsessed and teaching our children the same lesson: Get up, go to school, have dinner, go to bed.

Hurry, hurry, hurry.

So, how can we slow down in this rushed society?

Let your child teach you how to be.

They still remember.

Children are filled with playfulness and imagination, a capacity for wonder and a curiosity about life’s mysteries.

A good giggle, story, or game can help release some of our worries about time and help us regain balance in the moments we do have.

Monday Mindfulness for Releasing the Time Obsession

-The next time you hear yourself say, “I wish I had more time” stop take a breath and get connected to what need is most alive in the moment. Use a feelings and needs sheet if you’re uncertain.

-External marketing and forces will continue to share a reality that we need to rush. It can be helpful to create a daily practice to reconnect to yourself so you have more compassion and kindness for whatever life brings.

-Take some time this week and get in your children’s world. Play with play dough, make a puzzle, or play a video game with them.

This week Sierra and I went over to the tennis courts to practice some bike riding.

Almost immediately, Sierra went into meltdown: “It’s not working, I hate this. I don’t want to learn.”

I could feel my blood pressure rise and my ears begin to hurt as I listened to her whine.

Happily, my sister, Dawn, was with us. Growing up, Dawn had a tough time.

She has since been diagnosed with dyslexia. But, back then, we lived in a little podunk town and, out of ignorance, she got placed with kids who were severely mentally and behaviorally challenged.

Imagine yourself as an extremely gifted and spirited child who was constantly teased and held back.

Imagine the frustration.

Somehow, over the years Dawn took her experiences from childhood and used them to become amazing at teaching children new skills.

She is currently working her magic at a children’s ski school in Northern New Mexico.

So, as I began to get irritated and shut down, Dawn stepped in and saved the day.

She had an awe inspiring patience with Sierra’s frustration and gave her simple, step-by-step, instructions.

When Sierra started to show signs of discouragement, Dawn pointed out how far she’d come.

A simple hour later and Sierra was riding the court and making turns on her own!

So, I asked Dawn what helped.

She shared how intimidating it can be to learn new skills as a child when an adult is towering over them. The simple magic is to get down to there level, create eye contact, and be patient when a child is feeling frustrated.

Monday Mindfulness for Dealing with a Perfectionist Child

Get down on your child’s level and look them in the eyes. If you really want your child’s perspective get down on your knees and have them stand on a chair. This can show you how intimidating a towering parent can be.

As a parent you don’t have expertise in all areas. Allow other members from your community to help educate and teach your child. It really does take a village.

When teaching a new skill, keep focusing on what is working, instead of harping on what isn’t. This will give your child a feeling of hope and reassurance that they can learn a new skill.

I wouldn’t either.

Why?

Because it’s not ready.

Yet I often rush other things in life like my daughter last Monday when it was time to go to school.

Sierra needs to catch the school bus by 8 am. If she misses the bus I have to drop her off at school at 8:45 am. This was a challenge on Monday since I had a 9 am client at work.

I found myself rushing Sierra out the door.

Just like that half baked pie, she wasn’t ready.

My original thought was that if I just pressed her harder, raised my voice she’d snap to attention like an army soldier and say, “Yes Daddy.”

Somewhere deep inside I knew that considering Sierra’s needs was important, but in that moment of running late I was clear that she was going to do as I said.

I pushed harder, bargained, yelled, manipulated and finally Sierra got into the car, yelling and screaming. Although I’d won the battle, I knew I’d lost our connection as I saw tears weeping down Sierra’s face in the rearview mirror.

“I am the worst father ever,” I silently thought to myself as the guilt and shame started spiraling downward.

Thank God for compassionate communication because, within a flash, I snapped to and realized that beating myself up felt awful, left me disconnected from myself, and could easily last all day.

Here are the three steps I took to reconnect with myself and with Sierra.

Step One: Self Empathy

Internal Dialogue: “Okay, I know I have lots of thoughts rushing through my head: I’m making my daughter cry; my client is going to be pissed; I’m the worst daddy ever.

Remember, I can watch the Jackal Show of my thoughts without having to react. Then a bit of guessing what I’m feeling and needing may help.

Well, I’m feeling disappointed that I’m late for my 9 am and needing to be more competent..

I don’t need to blame and push Sierra away because of my needs.

Step Two: Taking Responsibility

“Hey Sierra, I apologize for rushing you, I was concerned about my 9 am appointment and really wanted to keep my word to my client.”

Step Three: Creating a New Strategy

“Can we try to get up 15 minutes earlier tomorrow, so that you’re not rushed and I’m not late?”

I raced down the road, glanced in the rear view mirror and like magic Sierra’s eyes smiles and she said, “That would be nice daddy.”

Although it might not always work, we both got up 15 minutes earlier the next day and, as planned, made the bus with time to spare.

Monday Mindfulness for Rushing Your Child

-Feeling rushed creates anxiety and fear. If you’re running late, take a few breaths before engaging with your child and check into what you’re really feeling and needing.

-Try not to take your child or yourself too seriously. If you begin to spiral downward into the dark abyss about how your lateness is going to ruin everything, take a moment and ask your child to tell you a joke or share one with them.

-Creating a new strategy for getting out the door can be helpful. Perhaps you can get up 15 minutes earlier each day or you can lay out clothes the evening before. Play with different ideas to find the right fit for your family.