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.