Okay so I am NOT a fan of those movies with that creepy dude who totally hisswhispers "My Precious" through the entire thing, his wispy hair clinging to his scary face. I have friends who LOVE these movies. I have a husband who loves these movies. I even have friends who proudly purchased their own personal creepy dude figurine to live on their movie shelf. The word precious is one that I could barely utter without conjuring up the face of Gollum.
So let me tell you how Jeremy and I have been spending our Sunday evenings for the past several weeks. No, we are not marathon movie watching we are a taking a parenting class. I almost feel like I need to start with "Hi my name is Kamryn and I'm taking a parenting class." In my world, for whatever reason, parenting classes were taboo. It meant I were failing. Now I have taken cake decorating classes because I wanted to better my cake makin' skills, and I've taken lots of training classes for jobs I've held in order to improve my ability and none ever made me feel like I had failed. Actually, they each made me feel more accomplished and able. Somehow in my mind the thought of taking a parenting class didn't equate like that. I never thought that I could simply become a better parent. Thankfully, for the most part I've gotten over myself enough to get over that mentality.
We are following a class called "Growing Kids God's Way" and so far I'm really enjoying it. It's challenged me to rethink the "why" in our parenting plan. Jeremy and I struggled with infertility for a number of years before we had Kaity and in that time we would armchair parent. We watched what we liked, what we thought worked, what we didn't like, what we totally wanted to copy. We had a really strong purposeful parenting plan long before we had a child. It has served us well. We also knew how we wanted to raise our children from a spiritual perspective. Never ever did it occur to us that these were really 2 sides of the same coin.
One of the main concepts so far that has really resonated with me is honoring others for their "preciousness". Every person is precious because they are created by God and are precious to Him. We should treat people preciously because we love Him and want to honor what He has created. That leads me up to the actual point of this whole blathering message. Yesterday the schilldren and I were driving home from our home schooling group and I attempted to explain to them the concept of preciousness. We've never used that term in explaining how to treat one another. We said to be 'nice' or 'kind' but never explained why they should beyond the basic 'because you should' of it all. They understood preciousness. They got it, they embraced it. We talked about it for probably about 10 minutes and then moved on to other topics of conversation.
When we got home I got out and was cleaning up some ice on the drive way. Usually, they scatter the moment we pull in and run into the house to play while I am left bellowing for help to carry bags in or empty the van from whatever errands we've been running. Instead, I hear Joshua calling out to ask me if the tea glass in the van was from today. I looked up and there he stood w/the drivers side door open getting out my drink to take into the house for me. Because I am precious. Kaity carried her brothers school bag in when she collected hers. Because he is precious. Joshua made a second trip to get a few odds and ends out of the van and even held the door open for me. All in the name of preciousness. When they were getting ready to play a video game Kaity knocked something out of Joshua's hand and it fell to the floor and games were scattered. Typically that would have been dramatic and fuss filled. Yesterday she apologized but he was already down helping her pick up what had spilled and he even said "it's okay I know it was an accident".
So now when I say my precious it won't be w/that creepy clingy haired freakfest in my mind it will instead by my sweet babies treating each other with kindness. Because they are precious.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
watching....always watching....
I have always prided myself on being a "do as I do" kind of parent. I don't expect less of my children than I am willing to give. I am careful about the words I say because I want them to be careful about the words they say. I value integrity and honesty because I want them to do the same. All parents teach their children, what I didn't realize until recently was how much I was teaching them when I wasn't even looking.
I have taught them through my actions that music should be sung with gusto and joy, that barefooted is beautiful, that falling is funny (and even funnier when it happens to someone else), that books can be consumed instead of just read.
I've also taught them that watching television is a totally acceptable way to spend an evening, that cookies are delicious, that sweating is bad, that sweet tea is it's own food group.
I started going to the gym almost 2 months ago and in the beginning was going in the evenings. I would come home spent and sweating and go about the rest of my night. The children came to realize that I was going to the gym through my vacillating excitement and dread. Three weeks ago I shifted my day and started going to the gym in the mornings before they are awake. They no longer hear about my gym time on a regular basis because they typically sleep right through it. I sort of assumed it was not even a blip on their radar. Don't get me wrong I still talk about it but now with a sense of accomplishment. It's officially turned from a 'got to' to a 'get to' and I look forward to the time it builds into my morning for other things as well.
I struggle with teaching my children healthy habits because, well because I didn't have very many. How do you give what you don't possess? How could I extol the virtues of vegetables while noshing on potato chips? I worry. Worry that talking about nutrition or exercise or healthy habits will somehow be internalized and begin a dialogue about not being good enough. I've not started the dialogue, not in earnest. Not with purpose but in passing and only if they brought it up first.
So, all of that brings me to yesterday afternoon. The girlchild was schooling and I had hopped on the elliptical to try to meet my goal for 10k steps/day. She stood at the edge of my bed looking me up and down. She asked me if I went to the gym already and when I told her I had but was just doing a little extra she asked if she could do a "little extra" too. I was totally conflicted. could she? should she? would she be able to? I attempted to quell my panache for over thinking and after I was finished she took a turn.
She talked the entire time she was working out. with pride. about me. how I was strong. was healthy. was good at working out.
Funny. Loud. Friendly.
Those are words that are typically used to describe me but healthy? Strong? Good at working out? Those had never been on a list of descriptions about who I was. And yet here they were from the mouth of my girl.
She got off the elliptical not emotionally scarred like I'd feared but empowered and looking forward to her work out tomorrow because she wants to be like me.
Funny, loud, friendly, strong, healthy, and good at working out.
I have taught them through my actions that music should be sung with gusto and joy, that barefooted is beautiful, that falling is funny (and even funnier when it happens to someone else), that books can be consumed instead of just read.
I've also taught them that watching television is a totally acceptable way to spend an evening, that cookies are delicious, that sweating is bad, that sweet tea is it's own food group.
I started going to the gym almost 2 months ago and in the beginning was going in the evenings. I would come home spent and sweating and go about the rest of my night. The children came to realize that I was going to the gym through my vacillating excitement and dread. Three weeks ago I shifted my day and started going to the gym in the mornings before they are awake. They no longer hear about my gym time on a regular basis because they typically sleep right through it. I sort of assumed it was not even a blip on their radar. Don't get me wrong I still talk about it but now with a sense of accomplishment. It's officially turned from a 'got to' to a 'get to' and I look forward to the time it builds into my morning for other things as well.
I struggle with teaching my children healthy habits because, well because I didn't have very many. How do you give what you don't possess? How could I extol the virtues of vegetables while noshing on potato chips? I worry. Worry that talking about nutrition or exercise or healthy habits will somehow be internalized and begin a dialogue about not being good enough. I've not started the dialogue, not in earnest. Not with purpose but in passing and only if they brought it up first.
So, all of that brings me to yesterday afternoon. The girlchild was schooling and I had hopped on the elliptical to try to meet my goal for 10k steps/day. She stood at the edge of my bed looking me up and down. She asked me if I went to the gym already and when I told her I had but was just doing a little extra she asked if she could do a "little extra" too. I was totally conflicted. could she? should she? would she be able to? I attempted to quell my panache for over thinking and after I was finished she took a turn.
She talked the entire time she was working out. with pride. about me. how I was strong. was healthy. was good at working out.
Funny. Loud. Friendly.
Those are words that are typically used to describe me but healthy? Strong? Good at working out? Those had never been on a list of descriptions about who I was. And yet here they were from the mouth of my girl.
She got off the elliptical not emotionally scarred like I'd feared but empowered and looking forward to her work out tomorrow because she wants to be like me.
Funny, loud, friendly, strong, healthy, and good at working out.
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