A while back someone asked about why it is that my children get along so well. I was a bit taken back and didn't really have a response. She proceeded to share about her sibling and the difficulties they had through the years and only recently were healing from. Her stories reminded me of something that we had been doing, but I had not thought much about recently.
It is frowned upon in our home for either of our kids to tattle on or boss each other around when they are behaving in a way that is breaking some rule. They have been encouraged to either talk to each other directly and assertively using "I" statements and owning their feelings when in conflict, or to trust that mommy and daddy will observe the negative behavior soon enough and will deal with it as we see fit. By no means do we pull this off perfectly, but they get the gist and are pretty easily correctible when they try to gossip or step in above their pay grade.
I can't take a whole lot of credit for this. I think I came across an article years ago and thought it made good sense. The bottom line is siblings need each other and the peer relationship needs to be protected. If you allow them 'adult' like responsibilities (even if what they are saying is true and good) it changes the relationship dynamic. Because of the ego, it seems to instantly disconnect them and cause fear, distrust, or at minimum a breakdown in communication, further judgement, shame ...and the list can go on and on.
Is this what God wanted from us in the beginning? Could part of the avoid eating from the tree of knowledge (of good/evil) thing be so as not to cause such disconnection with our fellow humans? Was that His way of saying, "I got this. This is not part of your job. Trust Me."?
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Far too long...
Oy. It's been too long since I last wrote here. So much has transpired...yet maybe not so much has changed.
However, we may be moving soon. My husband is in the final stage and waiting to hear back about a job in Chicago and flies out Monday for a third interview at another place in Atlanta. This two month process has been nerve wracking, to say the least, and absolutely nothing has happened...at least on my end. I'm not the one having to apply, prepare, and interview while holding down a full time job. By the way, much kudos goes to my husband for maintaining his sanity and remaining his calm, funny, and reliable self during all of this. Though I know it is taking it's toll on him as well.
This waiting, the in between or liminal space, is interesting. It is one of suspension. My brain wants to rationalize and suggest that in this latency I should feel free and buoyant.
La. Di. freaking Da.
Guess what, I don't.
I feel frozen and heavy.
That seems contradictory that I should feel heavy when I'm suspended? All movements feel extremely labored and half committed, like a third of a lunge. It seems like all daily decisions now run through the filter of this ambiguous future. How to answer what the kids will be doing this summer? Why clean that now, when we may have to do it all at once to sell the house? Will this be the last time I see them? Can we commit to this? Oh, and all the strolls down memory lane I've recently taken...
Yet I haven't left, and may not.
Are we staying? Going? Who will I miss? How will the kids adjust? What will I do for a job? What should we sell? Keep? Who will miss us? Can we afford this? Can we not? I imagine my little family in a scene from the Matrix, dressed in black of course, suspended...but we're not dodging anything. At least not yet. We're just suspended, looking around and it's... exHAUSting?
I am assuming that the tension and energy spent is because I am trying to live in the future. My gaze is fixed WAY out in front and all I see is good ole London fog. No amount of effort or squinting helps me to see through the vapor. For now, I'm going to work on putting one foot in from of the other and watching said feet... the haze can't last forever, can it?
However, we may be moving soon. My husband is in the final stage and waiting to hear back about a job in Chicago and flies out Monday for a third interview at another place in Atlanta. This two month process has been nerve wracking, to say the least, and absolutely nothing has happened...at least on my end. I'm not the one having to apply, prepare, and interview while holding down a full time job. By the way, much kudos goes to my husband for maintaining his sanity and remaining his calm, funny, and reliable self during all of this. Though I know it is taking it's toll on him as well.
This waiting, the in between or liminal space, is interesting. It is one of suspension. My brain wants to rationalize and suggest that in this latency I should feel free and buoyant.
La. Di. freaking Da.
Guess what, I don't.
I feel frozen and heavy.
That seems contradictory that I should feel heavy when I'm suspended? All movements feel extremely labored and half committed, like a third of a lunge. It seems like all daily decisions now run through the filter of this ambiguous future. How to answer what the kids will be doing this summer? Why clean that now, when we may have to do it all at once to sell the house? Will this be the last time I see them? Can we commit to this? Oh, and all the strolls down memory lane I've recently taken...
Yet I haven't left, and may not.
Are we staying? Going? Who will I miss? How will the kids adjust? What will I do for a job? What should we sell? Keep? Who will miss us? Can we afford this? Can we not? I imagine my little family in a scene from the Matrix, dressed in black of course, suspended...but we're not dodging anything. At least not yet. We're just suspended, looking around and it's... exHAUSting?
I am assuming that the tension and energy spent is because I am trying to live in the future. My gaze is fixed WAY out in front and all I see is good ole London fog. No amount of effort or squinting helps me to see through the vapor. For now, I'm going to work on putting one foot in from of the other and watching said feet... the haze can't last forever, can it?
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