Take a hike
In general, parenting is still very much a guessing game. Almost eleven years in, the boys will ask me permission for something and I'll just stand there face frozen, mouth open having no sort of idea how to answer. When my stupor clears, I manage to speak one of the following lines:
Is that OK? I don't know. How am I supposed to know?
You're asking me to choose between you and your brother. What do I do?
What did you expect me to say when you asked me that?
Hey, Jesus answered questions with questions. Can't be all bad.
But I have learned a few things. Confused means tired. Lower belly pain is poop. Oxiclean gets out everything. The Magna Doodle knows no age limit. You can't force a kid to do anything.
All that is great, and there is more. But if I could share my most valuable piece of parenting advice, actual practical mama magic, it's this.
Walk. In. The. Woods.
The mental and physical and relational and emotional benefits of this simple exercise cannot be overstated.
Bad attitudes vanish like a light switch flipping on. Sunlight, fresh air, and open sky does it every stinkin time.
What would have been competition elsewhere is now just taking turns.
Toughness becomes second nature. Case in point. Kid falls down at home, cries, begs for a band aid, barely hobbles to the couch and declares they won't be able to move ever again. Kid falls down in the woods, realizes right away that there are no band-aids or couches nearby, brushes off, and keeps going.
Self-awareness turns away from entitlement to humility when surrounded by a tall, thick blanket of wood and leaf.
Conversation flows like water. It's easier to open up when there's something else to look at, and what better than gazing through those trunks at lake reflecting sun.
Exercise isn't what anyone is thinking about, but it's happening, praise the Lord.
Nobody, and I mean nobody, is looking at a screen. Except for when the photos are snapped.
I wish I could patent this and sell it. Definitely could quit my day job. But it's not like I invented nature, so that's probably not an option. So I'll just throw my advice out to the universe, and if it works for anyone else maybe they could just send me some money in gratitude for an utterly peaceful day making happy memories with their perfectly behaved children. Because we all know how rare those days are.
We need to go hiking more.
Is that OK? I don't know. How am I supposed to know?
You're asking me to choose between you and your brother. What do I do?
What did you expect me to say when you asked me that?
Hey, Jesus answered questions with questions. Can't be all bad.
But I have learned a few things. Confused means tired. Lower belly pain is poop. Oxiclean gets out everything. The Magna Doodle knows no age limit. You can't force a kid to do anything.
All that is great, and there is more. But if I could share my most valuable piece of parenting advice, actual practical mama magic, it's this.
Walk. In. The. Woods.
The mental and physical and relational and emotional benefits of this simple exercise cannot be overstated.
Bad attitudes vanish like a light switch flipping on. Sunlight, fresh air, and open sky does it every stinkin time.
What would have been competition elsewhere is now just taking turns.
Toughness becomes second nature. Case in point. Kid falls down at home, cries, begs for a band aid, barely hobbles to the couch and declares they won't be able to move ever again. Kid falls down in the woods, realizes right away that there are no band-aids or couches nearby, brushes off, and keeps going.
Self-awareness turns away from entitlement to humility when surrounded by a tall, thick blanket of wood and leaf.
Conversation flows like water. It's easier to open up when there's something else to look at, and what better than gazing through those trunks at lake reflecting sun.
Exercise isn't what anyone is thinking about, but it's happening, praise the Lord.
Nobody, and I mean nobody, is looking at a screen. Except for when the photos are snapped.
I wish I could patent this and sell it. Definitely could quit my day job. But it's not like I invented nature, so that's probably not an option. So I'll just throw my advice out to the universe, and if it works for anyone else maybe they could just send me some money in gratitude for an utterly peaceful day making happy memories with their perfectly behaved children. Because we all know how rare those days are.
We need to go hiking more.
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