Being Positive

I recently inherited a copy of the book "MEE Thinks," by Mary Ellen Edmunds, from Jeff's grandma's bookshelf. I grabbed it last week when I was looking for a book to take on our family camping trip. During the previous two weeks I had cruised through all the other "to-read" books I had on hand in what I have since realized was a binge effort to escape the chaos that is my summertime. Turns out this was a good book to pick up for a camping trip--51 very short but uplifting chapters of her thoughts on life--easy to pick up and put down. Mary Ellen Edmunds is one of my favorite speakers. I love how genuine she is. She has a gift for being truthful and sincere while at the same time being completely entertaining and hilarious. This particular thought she shared about being positive hit home, as I've been struggling to be patient and positive with my kids. [It's just coincidence that the boy in the story shares the name of one of my sons.]

"I was on my way from Salt Lake City to Atlanta. I had boarded the flight, settled down in 23F by the window, swallowed my Dramamine, and shut my eyes. And I was observing. I know observing would seem to be an activity we do with our eyes open, but I was observing with them shut. I was listening and feeling. Seat 23E was unoccupied. A youngish-sounding mother was in 23D on the aisle. Across the aisle was her son Ryan, then his Dad in 23B, and a sister by the window in 23A. What I observed was that the mother was trying to get Ryan to sit still and be quiet. The comments went something like this: 'Ryan, don't yell!' 'Ryan, quit kicking the seat.' 'Ryan, don't play with your seat belt.' 'Ryan, quit whining!' 'Ryan, don't put your elbows in the aisle.' 'Ryan, lower your voice!' 'Ryan, stop it!'"
"Ryan sounded about five years old, and it seemed that nothing he did was right. He was curious and fidgety as passengers came down the aisle, and his mother was trying to get him to be polite and quiet. At one point she said something like, 'Ry-Ry, do you want to color?" He didn't, but a few minutes later I heard him ask, 'Mommy, do you call me Ry-Ry?'"
"She said, 'Yes, sometimes I do.'"
"He was quiet for a few seconds and then said, 'I want you to call me Ry-Ry all the time.'"
"I think I figured it out. He liked it when she was positive with him. And in this instance it happened when she called him Ry-Ry instead of Ryan. Could you ever tell when your mother was upset because she used your entire proper name in that certain tone of voice?"
"Eventually the plane took off and headed east, and Ry-Ry decided he wanted to come and sit in 23E. We had a splendid time all the way to Atlanta. He was in a mood to ask a lot of questions, and I was in a mood to give the most off-the-wall, improbable answers I could think of, complete with funny faces and amazing noises. Ryan's mommy and daddy were both trying to get us to settle down a bit, and we tried. Sort of. But we were on a roll, and the hours went by faster than usual. By the time we got to Atlanta, Ry-Ry was asking if I could go home with them, and he seemed genuinely disappointed that I was going somewhere besides Orlando."
"Now it's time to think about this. How do you respond when someone is constantly negative toward you and others and life? How does it make you feel when you can't seem to do anything right? And, on the other hand, how do you feel when you're around someone who's usually positive?"
"Can you think of someone in your life who has waited way too long to hear a positive comment from you? If you really think about this, you're likely to have someone come to mind. Start with your immediate family, and think of each person individually. You may discover that you have a child, a brother or sister, a parent, a grandchild, an aunt or uncle, or someone else who needs to hear something positive from you. And, interestingly, think about yourself. What kinds of messages do you give to yourself? Are you far too negative? I'm just guessing that for too many of us that's the case--we're too hard, too negative, on ourselves. Come up with a couple of true, positive comments--one for you, and one for a friend--and see what happens when you pass them on."

I've really been thinking about this. I've been trying to remember what it was like when I was a kid. Did my siblings and I drive my mom crazy sometimes? No doubt about it. Did my mom lose her patience and yell at us? I'm sure she did, on occasion. How did that make me feel? Guilty, sometimes. Did it help? Did it make a difference? I don't remember. Would something else have been more effective in those instances? I don't know. And what will work with my kids? Yelling doesn't seem to solve anything for long, and it really just makes me feel like a grouch.

I know I don't enjoy being around people who are negative. In fact, some of my favorite people in the whole world are my favorite people because they are positive--they lift me up and make me want to be a better person. How can I do that for my kids? I certainly want them to want to be better. My current tactics just seem to put them on the defensive instead. So I'm thinking about ways to be positive with them. I'm thinking about ways to correct them kindly, and only when necessary. I read in a parenting book once (can't remember which one) something to the effect that, on average, kids hear 7 negative things for every one positive thing they hear, but that the positive things they hear are much more powerful for shaping their behavior. Today I did pretty well at biting my tongue a little more than I have lately. Tomorrow I'll start looking for more positives, and we'll see how this goes...

Losing Yourself, Part 3

The beginning of this post may not seem directly related to the others of the same title, but bear with me (if you feel like it). It all ties into where I am right now. A couple years ago a friend recommended a book that I've previously posted a summary of here. It's called The Parenting Breakthrough: A Real-Life Plan to Teach Kids to Work, Save Money, and Be Truly Independent, by Merilee Browne Boyack. I really like the parenting principles in this book, especially the ideas for gradually teaching your children skills that will help them learn to be independent, productive adults. Last summer I decided it was high time to put some of these ideas into practice. I helped my three older boys set some goals for learning and doing age-appropriate skills--chores, reading, family scripture study, Cub Scouts requirements, etc. I tried to keep them simple, doable, and relatively short-term. There were intermediate rewards, but the big prize for reaching their summer goals was a trip to Lagoon, Utah's only amusement park (made especially tantalizing by driving past it every time we go to Jeff's parents house). The kids seemed okay with the goals, but were more excited about the rewards, of course. In the book, Sister Boyack also asserts that the real reward is that when your kids learn how to do things by themselves it becomes a source of self-esteem and empowerment for them. That made sense too.

Dummy me though. I should have known better than to expect that my kids would want to learn how to mop the floor because it would make them feel more grown up and independent, or even because it would help them get to Lagoon. I still believe the principles in the book are good, and I haven't given up on them, but either I didn't apply them effectively, or I just expected too much. I spent the whole summer babying my kids toward their goals, prodding them along, trying to help them and teach them, but nagging and listening to their whining more than anything. By mid-August the goals on their lists were all checked off, but I was mentally and emotionally exhausted. We went to Lagoon, but I felt like I had earned it for them. I knew my efforts hadn't been in vain, that my boys had made some progress and learned a few things, but I wasn't sure it was worth all the trouble. I was so tired and so ready for school to start again, ready to not have everybody home 24/7. I felt guilty for feeling that way, but I was to the point that I thought if I could just make it until school started, I could recuperate and hang on to my sanity.

Then school did start and I had a little more room to breathe, but my state of mind didn't get any better. I couldn't figure it out. The end of September came, and I went to the broadcast of the General Relief Society Meeting really hungry for something to lift me up, something to guide me out of the slump I was in. I had great expectations because General Conference and the General Relief Society Meeting are always a feast for me, a chance to recharge my batteries. And boy, did they need recharging. I don't remember why, but the Saturday of the broadcast was a particularly awful day for me. I dressed and went to the stake center alone, in a bad mood, just praying to be able to feel the Spirit and get something out of it.

The talks from the General Relief Society presidency were all good, but surprisingly, none of them spoke to me. I felt even more discouraged. Then President Uchtdorf stood up to the pulpit and said the words I needed to hear. You can read his talk, entitled "Happiness, Your Heritage," here, or listen to it here. I won't try summarize everything he said, but he addressed it to "those who have ever felt inadequate, discouraged, or weary"--ME, right then and there. In the kind and gentle way that to me is becoming his trademark, he validated my feelings and challenges, then taught two principles that can allow us to feel God's happiness despite our burdens--creation and compassion.

As I listened, I realized that the God-given part of me that needs to create is starving. Tears came to my eyes. I felt that my mental and emotional fatigue will be lessened and my emptiness will be filled if I can find a way to feed that need to create. It was eye-opening to me, but I knew I'd have to ponder more on exactly what and how I need to go about creating.

Elder Uchtdorf continued on to talk about compassion, about serving and lifting others. His words motivated me to look for more small and simple things I can do for those around me, but I didn't feel like I was as lacking in compassion as I am in creation. As I listened further though, he said, "As we lose ourselves in the service of others, we discover our own lives and our own happiness." Then he said, "You wonderful sisters render compassionate service to others for reasons that supersede desires for personal benefits. In this you emulate the Savior. . . . His thoughts were always tuned to help others. He taught, healed, conversed, and listened to others. . . . He taught and lived by this doctrine: 'He that is greatest among you shall be your servant.'" (Matt. 23:11). This got me thinking all over again about the balance between serving others and nourishing myself, filling my own cup. How do I follow the example of Christ--that I want to follow--and lose myself in the service of others, without losing myself? It seems like the part of me that needs nourishing--the part of me that needs to create--is the part of me that gets neglected as I use most of my time and energy in the service of others, which is supposed to help me discover myself and my happiness. I do find happiness and fulfillment in serving others most of the time, but other times I just feel burned out, depleted. If the principles of creation and compassion will help me feel God's happiness, how can I find room for both in my finite life?

As I took in Elder Uchtdorf's talk, my emotions were mixed. I was relieved and confused, happy that my challenges were validated and addressed, just as I'd hoped, but unsure exactly how to apply his counsel to my life. As I left the meeting, I couldn't keep the tears from coming. I drove to a park and sat in my van and sobbed until I could compose myself enough to go home.

Yes, there's still at least one more part to this long story. Stay tuned. If you want to.

I Like This Book

I can't remember if I've mentioned this book on my blog before, so I'm going to give it a post of it's own, just in case I haven't. A little over a year ago a friend in Texas introduced me to a great parenting book. It's called The Parenting Breakthrough: A Real-Life Plan to Teach Kids to Work, Save Money, and Be Truly Independent, by Merilee Browne Boyack. The whole premise of the book is a plan to help your kids, starting at age 3, to learn the skills they need to know to be able to leave home at age 18 or 19 and function successfully and independently--household chores, oil changes, money management, etc., etc. This book covers everything from chores to family responsibilities to hygiene to allowances to investing to Gospel teaching to service to family vacations to sports to music lessons and so on. It might sound pretty broad, but I think that's part of what I like about it. It gives some specific examples and suggestions, but the real value is in the principles of parenting that it presents. I may never figure out how to make the entire plan (part of my Plan with a capital P) work for my family, but there's lots of helpful, wise ideas there that I can pick and choose to apply according to our family's needs. I'm re-reading this book and I keep going back to it as a reference. If you have time to read one book before summer vacation starts, I highly recommend it.