Author: Mary Ann Johnson

Everyday Learning Ideas for Every Family

Some time ago, I read an article called “Afterschooling,” written by a mom who was also a teacher. The idea is simple: learning doesn’t stop when the school day ends. Parents can use after-school hours, weekends, and summers to help kids stay sharp, fill in gaps, or stretch further when they’re ready for more. It works whether your child is homeschooled or attends a private or public school, and it’s especially helpful for the child who needs more than the classroom can give.

What interested me was how ordinary the ideas were. Let’s face it, many of us worry whether we’re doing enough and want to feel more confident as we parent. The truth is, just living life as a family every day is a wonderful education, but when you add some cool family activities, learning keeps going and is fun.

Learn in the Car

Listen to audiobooks as you run errands or take trips. I know that seems outdated, but it gets kids off their phones and helps families connect. You’ll be amazed at how many books you can “read” in a year by taking advantage of car time. Don’t worry too much about age-appropriateness if you have kids of different ages. Preschoolers enjoy Ramona the Brave as much as the eight-year-olds, and your twelve-year-old won’t mind The Indian in the Cupboard. Your whole family will listen to classics above grade level, whether they understand every word or not. It becomes normal for your family, and it’s amazing what younger children pick up from the books their older siblings are listening to.

My husband, who is not a reader, began listening to audiobooks at the beginning of the summer because I gave him one. He is hooked and listens while he works on the computer. I know it’s helping his mind, and he seems to really enjoy it. He listened to eight books over the summer. For a non-reader, that is wonderful!

Be brave and introduce more than just fiction. Try some history, music, and science too. Your public library has more options than you might expect, and most libraries now offer audiobooks through free apps.

Read Aloud as a Family

I’ve written many articles on the value of families reading together. I’m sold on it and read with my children, then my grandchildren, and now with Don and my mom. Some families read for thirty minutes after dinner while still sitting at the table, and then everyone helps with the dishes. Other families read first thing in the morning, and others read at bedtime. It doesn’t matter when you read or for how long; pick a time and be consistent. Choose classics, scriptures, or whatever your family loves. Make it a tradition instead of a haphazard occurrence.

Homemade Books

This fun activity can be done weekly or even monthly, just for the joy of it. Little kids love it, but so do older kids. I know from my own experience. My Grandma Gardner, a teacher, had a cupboard stocked with blank books she had put together with paper and staples. When we visited, she would let us pick one or two. I LOVED that part of our visit, and I always wrote in them. It spurred my desire to be a writer.

Go to the store and buy paper and art supplies. Put them in a big box or bag. Staple a stack of blank books together, and let your kids know they can now make their own books! Older kids might experiment with writing a short story like I did, while younger children will do lots of illustrations with fewer words. This activity really sings to kids before or after a holiday, a family birthday, a vacation, etc.

Give your child all the help they need. The child is the author and illustrator, but you are the secretary. Help them construct sentences when they ask, and guide them toward sentences they can read themselves. Keep these books in a special place to read to grandparents, younger siblings, and during quiet times.

Start the Day with a Morning Message

Write a daily message on a little whiteboard while your kids eat breakfast. It’s a great way to sneak in reading, writing, and punctuation, and it gives everyone something to smile about before they head out the door. My daughter did this with her children for many years, and they enjoyed it. It waned a bit as they hit their teens, but they still have one of those messages on the hall wall all these years later.

Take a DEAR Time Break (Drop Everything And Read)

I loved this idea that I found on a mom blog. The more words on a page your child is exposed to and tries to read on their own, the stronger their reading tends to be. So, give your children a chance to look at books and read by themselves. If your home gets out of sorts, someone is bored or can’t figure out what to do, or an argument erupts, send them to DEAR Time.

Set up a cozy reading corner somewhere in your house and stock it with a box or basket of books at an easy reading level for your child/children. You could even let them munch on crackers or other snacks while they read. Set the timer for ten minutes and slowly build up.

This can also substitute for a time out. I know because one of my daughters used it.

Use Screens with Parameters

Some parents root for the computer, and others don’t want their kids anywhere near it. You decide what works for you. Many free programs, apps, and websites make learning fun. Look for quality, where the child does the learning, and the designer isn’t having all the fun. The same goes for TV. When used sparingly and well, it can be a good friend, and there is plenty of educational content out there. Whatever you choose, set parameters you are comfortable with, and then be consistent.

For my granddaughter Maggie, who can’t speak and has limited hand movement, her iPad is her best friend. She has chosen many of her own learning sites. Even though she can’t speak, I know she understands Spanish because so many of the sites she chooses are in Spanish. Her iPad helps her learn.

When my grandson Ben, who is now 14, was between six and eleven, he spent a lot of time on his iPad and the computer. Guess what he was doing. Learning! He loved it and could give you facts on all kinds of subjects because that’s what he spent his time engaging with.

So don’t be afraid of computers, iPads, and TV. Set parameters you are comfortable with, and let kids learn.

A Fun Family Tool For Any Time of Day

A Spark Station is an amazing tool. Imagine doing science, history, art, or family stories together just for fun. It’s a wonderful way to gather as a family at the end of a busy day. It is also perfect for a bored child or when you need to help the chaos settle during a busy day. Check out the directions and learn how to create this magical tool.

There are many ways to help your children use time wisely, learn, and still be kids and teens, without nagging or cajoling.

Be creative, keep it simple, and have fun.

Five Principles of Power Series – Real Life Planning

At a webinar on the Five Principles of Power, I gave the attendees an assignment to determine which of the principles they felt most resistant to. I received a hilarious email from an attendee. It was hilarious, but also sobering.

Here’s a portion of the email:
“The principle that makes me cringe is ‘plan ahead.’ When I think about preparing for anything, I feel anxiety. My experiences with preparation activities are riddled with frustration and interruption. Having a large family multiplies the potential and real distractions to carrying anything to completion. Meal preparation generally includes a host of interruptions and ultimately failed recipes. Things burn. Things melt. Things don’t get finished. When I find some quiet time for study and succeed in following a thought through to the end, I emerge to find the house destroyed and a number of children roaming around in various stages of undress and degree of soiling.

In the time I’ve invested in this brief paragraph, I’ve fielded five interruptions. Only one was a screaming, urgent one, but each required me to stop, deflect, softly remind everyone that I am in my “office” working, or redirect a persistent child. Then I search through my short-term memory: ‘What was I thinking about?’

Perhaps I, like Pavlov’s dog, am programmed to respond to even thoughts of “preparation” with despair and trepidation. Perhaps if this triggered salivating, I would get more accomplished, just in a wet and slobbering fashion!

So, my solution seems to be eliminating the most unpleasant companion activities that occur when Mom is trying to prepare, or learning to like the mayhem and disorder. If I’m missing a third alternative, I’d be delighted to discover it!

Here are my initial ideas:
1. Get rid of the dog (she interrupts with barking, vomiting, and digging things up)
2. Keep the kids entertained while I’m preparing:

Send them to their rooms
Let them watch brain-gelatinizing videos
Send them to the backyard and lock the door
Give them a list of chores to do
Promise a reward if everything is intact and everyone is safe when I’m finished
Do all preparation when the children are asleep (this seems the most likely to succeed)
Get a housekeeper who would be responsible for the children while I’m preparing!

And for learning to love the journey:
1. Watch “Cheaper by the Dozen” and “Yours, Mine, and Ours” weekly, and tell myself I might like a little more chaos and surprise in my life. It could be viewed as ‘excitement.’
2. Hire a hypnotist.
3. Laugh and cheer when I find the house has been dismantled during a meeting or activity-prep stint.
4. Tell the kids that although I like the way they’ve redecorated the house, I’m going to go for a drive and come back as soon as they call to tell me everything is back in order.
5. Seek counseling.

Some deeper thought might illuminate other avenues to resolving my phobia of preparation. I’ve run out of time for the present. Sincerely, J.F.”

J.F. and I talked, and then several days later I received another email:

“I appreciated you addressing my hang-up with preparation. I felt much relieved and empowered after our talk. Thanks for helping me see through another set of eyes!”

Seeing Through New Eyes

I want to help you see through another set of eyes too. In a class I taught, a mom told me it was easy for me to rattle off a ton of ideas. She said, “I can’t do that!” I told her I didn’t have a gift; I just thought about it a lot. It was on my mind because I was determined to engage with my grands regularly, so it was regularly on my mind.

Back then, I thought about connecting with children all the time. I thought about it while doing dishes, vacuuming, shopping, going to the bathroom, and so forth. It made for some interesting thinking. My grands sparked ideas that I would then chew on. I paid attention to what was happening in the news, in my day-to-day movements, and in thoughts and stories from my past. If any of it was interesting and had the possibility of inspiring a child, I latched onto it. Then I’d think about it, on and off, all day. Soon ideas would start coming. “Hey, that would be great for family time.” “That would be a fun activity.” “That could lead to a good conversation.” Whenever I had an idea, a thought, or a moment of inspiration, I wrote it down.

It’s a principle that whatever we focus on, we get more of. I focused quite a bit on connecting with children because that’s what I wanted to do. I couldn’t possibly use all the ideas and good content that came to me. There was just too much.

No mom has time for much quiet contemplation. We’re busy kissing owies, sweeping up broken glass, changing poopy diapers, yelling at the dog, you know how it is. So, I’m not suggesting you sit down and plan. I don’t want you to take a fresh piece of paper and pour your heart and soul into figuring out how to connect as a family while your kids run rampant in your just-cleaned living room. That would be crazy!

I’m asking you to think. That’s all, just think. Look at your children every day. See them for who they really are, if only for a moment. Step back in your mind and see their hearts. Then think. What do they love? What excites them? What would they like to know about? Who is their favorite neighbor, and what do they do or know that could be shared? Open your mind to inspiration, and inspiration will come. It must. It’s a principle. What you focus on, you get more of.

It’s a relief to know that you only need one good thought each week, or month, depending on how often you have decided to connect intentionally as a family.

Our Path is Different but the Same

I no longer spend lots of time planning how to connect with my grands. They’re almost all teens or adults. I schedule time each month to send a text, card, letter, or make a call depending on what fits the person. However, I live with two people whom I take care of, my husband and my mother. Don has many health issues, and his mobility is limited. He sleeps often and watches a lot of TV. My mother has dementia and cannot determine how to spend her time. She crochets and reads less each year. She holds her head in her hands more. We study at lunch, but questions can’t be too deep. The topic must be made easy to understand.

As the person who loves and cares for them, I must do more than cook, clean, do laundry, give medications, do physical therapy, and wipe bottoms. I need to get them out of the house. I need to help them converse and learn. I need to help them find stimulation. This has taken and still takes planning. I now spend a lot of time thinking about how we, at our age and ability, can connect and keep moving.

You may have a house of littles or teens. But we’re battling the same battle: how to connect as a family. How can we help our family learn and keep moving? Although our work is somewhat different, it is the same.

So, remember, I laughingly say that your personal planning is all day, every day, while you’re mopping up spilled milk, washing applesauce off a little chin, and breaking up the fight of the century. That’s real-life planning. It happens in your mind.

This is Principle Five from The Five Principles of Power: Plan Ahead.

A Reminder

What are the Five Principles of Power:
•Structure time and be consistent
•Be present
•Make it special
•Keep it simple
•Plan ahead

When you internalize these principles and use them in your home,
they will make a difference.

Five Principles of Power Series – The Wizard of Oz Moment

When my youngest daughter was getting married, we went announcement shopping. Shopping is not on my list of enjoyable activities! We stopped at a couple of places, choked on prices, and then found the perfect thing. It was way out of our budget, but being crafty, we can do anything, sort of women, we decided we could recreate it ourselves.

We headed to my sister’s home for a second opinion. She felt we were right on; we could certainly duplicate those invitations ourselves. We then spent a good hour measuring, talking paper, and looking at photos. It was fun, and I enjoyed the time with my youngest daughter.

While we were talking about photos, my sister mentioned she thought people looked better in black and white photos. An animated conversation took place over her comment. Then she said a profound thing. “Maybe black and white makes people look better because we are so used to seeing them in color.” Wow!

That got me thinking about when we were kids. All our photos were black and white. I was well into grade school before any of my photos were in color. I said, “Do you remember the first time we saw ourselves in color? Remember how we thought we looked so much better?” Isn’t it interesting that what is unfamiliar can be more appealing at times than what we see every day? You know where I’m going with this, don’t you?

As we were leaving, my sister said, “Mary, do you remember The Wizard of Oz? Do you remember that the movie was in black and white at the beginning, and then there was the magical moment when color burst onto the screen? Wasn’t that astonishing?” I could clearly recall that experience. I remembered how the breath was knocked out of me from sheer amazement. I was stunned. It was so beautiful. I hadn’t even realized how drab it was before because I was used to seeing movies in black and white. It was unexpected. I just assumed that the whole movie would be black and white.

From Black and White to Color

That’s what happens when you create a family activity, a learning moment, or a special space for your children, and it’s filled with color, new things, and excitement. That’s what happens when parents are present and participate. That’s what it’s like when you set aside family time and honor it with consistency. It literally takes your children’s breath away. It turns family time from black and white to color.

I’ve experienced this with my grands, and I’ve watched it happen in other families too. Creating an environment like this changes a family’s experience together.

This is Principle Three from The Five Principles of Power: Make It Special. Consistency makes family activities and learning special. Being present while you do them makes them magical.

Thoughtfully plan your family activities so they go from black and white to bursting with color, and your family will engage and stay engaged.

Practicing Calm — Holding the Chaos A Series: Part 5

Long ago, after a day that started at 7:00 in the morning and didn’t end until 1:30 a.m. the next day, my daughter, Jodie, said, “Mom, it’s probably a real blessing that you have the grandkids so much. It gives you lots of material for your writing.” LOL

We were preparing to teach a room full of sixth graders how to make gingerbread houses out of graham crackers. It took over ten hours of preparation. It was a gift to the kids for a fundraiser they’d put together to help with my granddaughter Maggie’s therapy.

However, a big project doesn’t pause the rest of life. Maggie still needed her therapy session that day. The other grandchildren needed care. Meals had to be cooked. After a mentoring session with a family I was helping, Jodie and her kids arrived around noon. We began cutting crackers and bagging candy, while fielding questions, settling squabbles, keeping the littlest one out of the tree in the yard, getting drinks, nursing a baby, changing diapers, etc. You know how it goes.

After several hours of work, Jodie left to take Maggie to her therapy appointment. I kept going. When the therapy session ended, Jodie came back, and we worked together for a while longer, since she had an evening planned with friends, a plan made before the gingerbread project came up. When it was time, Jodie left for her party, and the grandchildren stayed the night with Don and me. He helped me cut cardboard bases, and once we’d stopped to feed everyone, he kept the kids occupied so I could keep working. At 6:00 p.m., I was still cutting crackers.

The Edge

By 8:00, our nursing granddaughter was at the end of her rope. She would crawl into the kitchen and pull herself up on the backs of my legs, then tumble down when I moved to catch her, which hurt her feelings every time, and she would cry. Our grandson was riding an adrenaline wave, wild the way kids get when it’s time for bed and they’re exhausted but refuse to admit it.

I kept watching the clock. I still had four or five hours of prep left. Seven batches of frosting to make. Eighty-seven pastry bags to fill. The stress was climbing. I picked up the baby once more, walked out of the kitchen, and felt an overwhelming urge to scream. Not at anyone. Just scream.

I hadn’t felt that in over fifteen years. It had been so long I’d nearly forgotten what it felt like to have little kids all day long. Years earlier, I would have screamed, yelling at kids, my husband, whoever was nearby. But that night, I swallowed it down and did what I’d learned to do instead. I looked at those sweet, tired children, and I stopped.

Choosing Calm

I sat on the couch with baby Mary and gave her a bottle. I talked with little Jack, sat with Maggie, and let go of the feeling that time was running out and the world would fall apart if I didn’t move faster. You know what happened? Baby Mary calmed down. Jack calmed down. Maggie started laughing. I felt peace settle back into the room. Why hadn’t I done this earlier, before I needed to scream?

It was a long night. Jodie returned after her party, and we finished at 1:30 in the morning. It had been a challenging day, but we got through it. The children were happy for the most part. I remained calm, if frazzled, and nobody yelled.

When life feels as if it’s spinning, the answer isn’t to run from the chaos. It’s to sit down in the middle of it, hold whoever needs holding, listen, breathe, and let go of the fires you think you must put out right this second. All these years later, it’s still true, whether the chaos is a room full of tired grandchildren or a hard afternoon caring for my mom or ill husband. The setting changes. The practice doesn’t.

That night, all those years ago, was one more time I chose to stop instead of scream. I’m still choosing it now, one hard afternoon at a time.

Practicing Calm — What the Boys Taught Me – A Series: Part 4

There’s an idea I keep coming back to: no problem gets solved by the same thinking that created it. We have to see things with fresh eyes. That’s especially true when it comes to staying calm because staying calm doesn’t happen by accident. It happens when we’ve thought ahead about what we’ll do the next time we feel frustrated, pushed, disrespected, or worn thin.

Many of us, without a plan, default to raised voices. We want calmer homes, but when the moment comes, we go straight to frustration and yelling because that’s the response we’re used to. Staying calm comes from knowing, ahead of time, how to respond when things are out of control or don’t meet our expectations.

One Afternoon

I have a friend whose home I’ve spent a lot of time in over the years. I have never heard anyone yell. This family communicates. They don’t lose control.

One afternoon I saw what that looks like when it’s been taught to children too. Her two sons, nine and five, were playing a board game in the living room, close enough that I could hear every word. It was going well for a while, but the younger one couldn’t quite follow all the rules, and it was hard for him to win. He began to fuss and complain quietly.

His older brother patiently explained a few things, but he was only nine himself, and he wanted to win too. Finally, he said, “If you keep fussing and having a bad attitude, I can’t keep playing with you.” The fussing continued, quietly. A couple of minutes later, the older brother repeated himself, then calmly packed up the game. The younger boy’s face fell, but there was no yelling, no tears. About five minutes later, they were playing something else and having a good time.

I know how that sounds. Some of you are shaking your heads, thinking, “Those kids aren’t real, mine would never do that.” I was surprised myself. But here’s the thing: I can guess how those parents handle disagreements with each other, and with their children, just from observing the two boys. They have a plan. They have a system. And their children have absorbed it simply by living inside it.

There’s power in staying calm and communicating clearly. Children learn from what they see, not from what we tell them. You cannot teach one thing and live another. If there’s conflict in your home, if you find yourself losing control, and your children doing the same, the answer starts with mastering yourself first.

Tuesday Morning

Such an easy thing to say, I know. Staying calm isn’t only about how we respond in the moment, as those two boys did. It’s also about the expectations we carry into a moment before it even starts. I experienced that lesson again this week.

I used to be a rager. It took having my eyes opened, realizing I needed to control myself, not blaming others, and having a plan to move forward. It has taken several decades of practicing to get where I am now, and I still have work to do.

At 7:30 on Tuesday morning this week, I was on my knees asking forgiveness for being abrupt with my mom. I felt embarrassed because I often ask forgiveness for the same thing. Calm has not been an easy lesson for me. But I have made progress. I am better. I am kinder. And I keep trying when I goof up.

Mom sometimes takes her Depends off at night, which leaves a mess on her nightgown and sheets. Tuesday morning it happened again, and I lost my patience getting her up.

After my prayer, some thoughts came to me. I was reminded that I wet the bed until I was twelve, and that the scoldings I got for it never helped; they just made me feel bad. I also thought of my daughter Jodie, who has a special-needs daughter in diapers and changes her sheets many times a week. Jodie doesn’t expect anything different; it is what it is, and she handles it. I realized my expectation was the problem. I kept expecting Mom to stop this behavior if I scolded her, when the truth is, her dementia isn’t going away, and this may continue for as long as she’s here. Another thought I had was simple: change the expectation from “this has to stop” to “some mornings there will be a mess.” Therapists sometimes call this reframing, catching the thought before it becomes the reaction. It works for Jodie. It will work for me.

Wow. One more step in a lifelong process of learning to be calm. My embarrassment evaporated into gratitude. I look forward to putting this new expectation into practice.

I shared the boys’ story because it’s a beautiful example of what can happen when we work on calm, so that our family and others can see the work we’re doing, even when we aren’t perfect. So don’t be discouraged if you or your children aren’t there yet. These boys have been practicing the example their parents gave. We need to continue practicing too. Perfection isn’t what we’re aiming for; progress is.

For me, that plan now sounds like this: if I feel my patience slipping with Mom, I stop and ask myself what story I’m telling myself in that moment.

That’s the plan, the system, the thing I can lean on, so I can help everyone around me build one too.

Practicing Calm — It’s Better to Laugh Than to Cry – A Series: Part 3

Story 1

This story from my family goes back decades, to when my youngest daughter, Kate, was still a teenager. The two of us were hurrying out to the car for a church event. I felt rushed. We were running late, and I hate being late. With seven children, you’d think I would have become more accepting of the occasional late start, but I hadn’t, and that day it made me feel anxious.

It had been a warm summer day, no rain in sight, the weather perfect. But as I stepped off the curb to get into the car, I found myself ankle-deep in water. I felt my hackles rising. Who filled the gutter with water? Asking who filled a gutter with water is not exactly a reasonable question. That’s how it goes when we let anger run over: irrational.

As we drove down the tree-lined street, I sputtered about how ticked off I felt, how inconsiderate the whole situation was, how being late seemed like a sign of disrespect, and on and on.

About five blocks from home, I pictured myself stepping off the curb into ankle-deep water. I saw my shocked expression, and myself looking down at the foot I was holding up while it dripped. The mental picture was so funny I started laughing, and the longer I laughed, the harder I laughed. I looked at my daughter, who had been very quiet until then (it might have been dangerous to make a sound), and she started laughing too. We laughed for a good two blocks.

Then my daughter turned to me and said, “Mom, it was funny when it happened.” Her comment brought me up short. She was right. It was one of those unexpected, funny situations that happen in life, and she was pointing out, kindly, that I could have saved us both a lot of stress if I’d just laughed in the first place. That’s often the best way to manage trouble and find happiness in the middle of it.

Story 2

In another season, we took a family vacation with our oldest daughter, Jodie, and her family. Kate was still living at home. We’d prepared for over six months. It was a big deal.

However, one by one, everyone got sick. There was crying, vomiting, and exhaustion. We camped one night and then moved on. But it became hard to travel with the children, and so Jodie decided to head home early. She was ill the day they left, with two sick children in the backseat, and a nursing baby to feed. They were pulling a trailer, and on the way home the truck broke down. They were stranded overnight, and some family members had to travel to help them get home.

When I saw the pictures they took on that drive home, it was beautiful. There weren’t any complaining faces, despite the ruined trip, the months of planning, the lost time. Just smiles. They laughed instead of complaining about one of those unexpected situations that happen in life. Their children were small and not feeling well, but if they remember this trip at all, they’ll remember it as a good one, with adults who held it together by finding the humor in a hard situation.

Kate is now in her 30s, living in Washington with three kids of her own, ages 13, 10, and 7. She was here visiting in July. I found myself watching her the same way I once watched Jodie. I shared one of Jodie’s experiences in last week’s article. Kate was handling her three children with that same steady patience I saw in Jodie all those years ago, the kind you can’t fake and can’t rush. This is something I’m still practicing: it’s better to laugh than to cry or yell, almost every time.

It hasn’t gotten easier, but I do it more often.

Practicing Calm — The Time-In – A Series: Part 2

I’ve been thinking about what it means to practice calm, especially in moments when other people are watching and silently judging whether you’re doing it right. Here’s a story that’s stayed with me for years.

The little boy, three years old, was out of control, a temper tantrum of sorts. I didn’t know what he wanted, but I could tell he felt desperate to have whatever it was. His mother was using a calm voice, talking to him, holding him gently while he twisted and screamed, then leading him away. I could tell that many of the onlooking adults felt upset with her. Why wasn’t she doing anything about this terrible tantrum? Why didn’t she make him stop?

That little boy was my grandson, and his mother is my daughter, Jodie. We were at a family reunion, and this wasn’t his first outburst. He was three, that difficult age when a child is learning to control his impulses, to be patient, to wait. It’s tough. I know some adults who haven’t mastered those skills yet either. LOL

Judgment

I would look across the campground, and there he’d be, wailing about something he needed right now, while other adults quietly formed opinions about his parents and what they weren’t doing. I could tell that silent judgment was wearing on my daughter.

Later, she told me it had taken real effort to stay centered and stay true to the parenting vision she had put in place in her home. What looked like doing nothing to the onlookers was actually a clear plan of action for this mom.

Her goal was to help Jack learn to control himself, and she did that by modeling the very behavior she wanted him to learn. She stayed calm. She was gentle but firm. If he couldn’t get control, she moved him to a quiet place and held him while he settled. It wasn’t easy. It would have been so much easier to handle him roughly, lay down the law, or yell.

What’s a Time-In?

I love the term she used for what happened when he was having a hard moment. She called it a “time-in.” She pulled him into her lap for a cuddle and a quiet chat instead of sending him away. It helped him settle, or at least redirected him toward something calmer.

Parenting can be daunting, especially when we choose to go against the grain. It takes courage to follow what we’ve decided is right, whether it’s how we discipline, educate, or talk to our children in hard moments. Having a clear picture of the outcome we want goes a long way toward helping us stay true to our choices, even when others are watching and wondering why we aren’t doing “more.”

If you’re struggling because you haven’t quite settled on what kind of parent you want to be in these moments, it can help to sit down, even briefly, and put it into words. What do you want your children to feel when they’re overwhelmed? What do you want them to learn about handling big emotions? You don’t need a formal document.

Just enough clarity to hold on to in the moments when everyone else’s opinions are loudest.

Practicing Calm — The Honey Bucket – A Series: Part 1

I used to think staying calm with my children was a skill I’d eventually master and move past, something I’d graduate from once they were grown. I know better now. Right now, I’m caring for my 96-year-old mother, who has dementia, and I’m finding myself back in the same classroom I thought I’d left decades ago.

That’s really what this series of five articles is about. Not a formula, not a finished skill, but a practice, one that shows up again and again across a lifetime, in different seasons, with different people, in ways we don’t always see coming.

The stories in this series are from long ago, mostly from the years when my children were small, or my grandchildren were underfoot. But I keep coming back to them, because the lessons in them are just as true today as they were then. I hope these stories feel less like advice from someone who’s arrived, and more like company from someone still on the road with you.

I’m in a new season of practicing calm. My mom is 96 and living with dementia, and some days caring for her tests every ounce of patience I thought I’d built up over the years. I lose it occasionally. I hear my voice get sharp, or I feel that same old flash of frustration rise, and I have to stop and remind myself of something I learned a long time ago, back when my own children were small.

Staying calm isn’t a skill you master once and keep forever. It’s a practice. And you never know when life will hand you a new season that puts you right back in the classroom. I was reminded of that recently when I came across an old story from years ago, back when my grandchildren were small, and I was watching them for the day. It’s a good reminder that the practice never really ends, and that’s okay. Enjoy. : )

I was sitting at the table watching Mary today. She had a small bowl of popcorn and was happily eating. Every bite or so, she would look up and give me a coy little smile. I would smile back and eat a piece of my popcorn. After several bites and coy smiles, Mary got up, toddled over to me, and lifted her face for a kiss. I gave her one, and she went back to the popcorn, took another bite, gave me that same shy smile, and I returned it. Then she got up again, came over to me, and lifted her face for another kiss. We repeated this a few times.

20 Minutes Earlier

What made this peaceful, joyous moment so remarkable was what had happened just 20 minutes earlier.

In the kitchen was a large bucket of thick honey, straight from my own bees, with no water in it, so it was very sticky. I noticed that bucket the day before and thought, “Hmm, that lid isn’t on very tight.” Then, as busy people do, I went on my way and didn’t do anything about it.

Today my grandchildren came to spend the whole day. I was prepared with crafts and fun, and all was going to be great. But I was running behind, which meant we were late eating breakfast and getting dressed. It was after 11:00 when I was tying the last shoelace. Just then, Mary came into the living room dripping honey from head to foot.

I let out a shriek, grabbed her, and ran for the tub, clothes and all. I fussed the whole way. “Mary, what did you do? Why were you in the kitchen? Look at this mess!” All the things you’d expect me to say.

As I stripped her clothes off and washed away the very thick honey, I made myself think about what was happening. I had a real mess in the kitchen, I was sure. This was my last set of clothes for Mary, and she hadn’t even been dressed for ten minutes. I was angry, and honestly, it was my own fault for not securing that lid.

I forced myself to calm down and really look at her. She was perfectly happy being doused in warm water, and any sense of trouble had already evaporated into the joy of the bath. She’s just a baby, really, only 16 months old. She’s interested in everything, and I mean everything. I hadn’t secured the perimeter, so to speak, and now I had a mess to clean up.

More than that, I realized that damaging this precious relationship over her childish need to explore, and my own oversight, would be a terrible trade. So, I stopped fussing. I washed her off, kissed her as I dried her, and steeled myself to go face the kitchen. It really was a mess.

A couple of days ago, I was talking with a mom about staying calm. She told me she’d decided to practice it, and that it was making a real difference. She said the more she practiced, the better she got at it. Amen to that.

Staying calm, not losing your temper, being present, seeing a child as a person with needs instead of a problem to solve – these are all practiced skills. The more we practice, the better we get. That’s what I had to do that day: practice some more.

What I’ve Learned

I’m imperfect at this, just like most of you. I felt angry first. I fussed. But then I made myself stop and choose better. A few things I’ve learned along the way:

The sweetness of family life comes through when we stay as calm and kind with our children as we can manage.
Children aren’t small adults. They don’t think like we do or behave as we do, and that means they’ll end up in trouble often as they grow and learn.
Living with children means living with the possibility of mess, frustration, and moments that test our patience. But damaging a relationship over a mess is never worth it.
Staying calm takes practice, practice, and more practice, and we won’t be perfect at it. The better we get at it, though, the better we feel about ourselves, and it tends to spill over into the rest of our lives too.

And here I am, all these years later, practicing all over again. : )

Learning in Disguise

A friend of mine, a mom with several young children, told me recently that her kids’ favorite thing to do is play dress-up. They want to do it all day long, even the boys. Of course, it makes a glorious mess. As we visited, she asked me about the value of this interest she was seeing in her kids, and it opened up a wonderful conversation.

The ideas we talked about are primarily for children under eleven, but don’t close the door on your teens just yet. I have found that when families incorporate a younger child’s interests into a shared activity, older kids will often join in too. Secretly, many of them miss being kids. So read on and think about how this might bring your family together, whatever ages you’re working with.

Play Is the Gateway

Children between the ages of one and twelve are in what is called the Age of Exploration. They want to experiment with everything physically and mentally, and dress-up play is one of the most natural expressions of that impulse. What looks like simple make-believe is actually children trying on the world — testing out who they might be, what history might have felt like, what it means to be someone else entirely.

And here is the beautiful opportunity for families: if you are present, even a little, while the costumes are coming out, you can weave in stories and information that children will carry with them for years. Not as a lesson. Not as school. Just as a story told by someone they love, while everyone is playing together. That combination — your presence, their imagination, a great story is a powerful thing.

Ideas to Try

You can share stories of past kings and queens as your children dress up as royalty. You can talk about a historical era and let them act out the characters. Some periods of history are especially rich for this kind of story-play: explorers like Lewis and Clark, scientists like Marie Curie and Albert Einstein, or even a beloved ancestor whose story deserves to be remembered. Tell a short story, then let them become the character. The learning that happens this way tends to stick because it was fun, it was shared, and you were there.

You don’t need an elaborate costume collection for any of this. Some families have a box of dress-up clothes, and that’s wonderful. But what I used with my grandchildren was a large box of fabric squares and scarves. Fabric and scarves leave everything to the imagination, and children are endlessly creative when given the freedom to invent. I have seen teens come up with remarkable ideas and then turn around and help their younger siblings bring those ideas to life. You would be amazed at what can happen when you simply provide the materials and step back.

Weaving It Into Family Life

If your family has a reading time together, that is a natural place to bring in a little dress-up magic. When you are reading a fiction book, stop at an exciting moment in the chapter and act it out. Use your box of fabric squares. You don’t need to do this every time you read together, but every now and again it adds a spark of fun that everyone remembers. This is another place where teens, given the chance, will often surprise you by jumping in to help the younger ones.

If a dedicated dress-up activity doesn’t feel right for your family, there are smaller ways to bring the same spirit in. Tell an interesting story about a historical figure or an ancestor at dinner, and let your littles act it out when the meal is done. Read together as a family, and then when finished, let the younger kids play out what they heard. The idea is simply this: mix their natural love of play with a story worth telling, and learning happens almost without anyone noticing.

From One Family Who Tried It

My friend decided to experiment with some of these ideas, and here is what she shared with me afterward:

“Thank you, Mary Ann! I tried this today. We are reading The Wizard of Oz. Of course, they all wanted to be Dorothy, but eventually they settled on at least one scarecrow. One of the Dorothys wanted to have a Greek-style costume, so she made up a side story to go with that. Thanks for a great idea — it will be fun to use for future reading too!” Sarah

Play and learn. That’s how children do it best. Don’t be afraid to mix their natural love of make-believe with your inspiration and your stories.

The results, as Sarah discovered, can be truly magical.

Finding Your Two Mites

My sister Cindy has a job caring for a man with dementia. As I know well, this can be an overwhelming and consuming responsibility. Here was her text to me:

“Mary, I need advice. Taking care of D. is draining me. I didn’t go to the temple all week. I’d leave his house, and I had nothing left. He wants to be with me constantly. When I’m cooking his food, he stands right next to me, and I have to move away. He asks me what he should do about everything. It’s exhausting.”

After some pondering, because I do know firsthand what this is like, here was my response: “No matter what our current mission, we can survive and even thrive, but we must revive.”

Watching over others truly is a mission, whether it’s caring for an elderly person with dementia, several toddlers, a house full of teens, or navigating a work environment. When we take on the task of teaching, guiding, nurturing, loving, and serving others, it’s a mission, and an important one that impacts the world beyond the walls of our home. But caring for and interacting with others can be challenging.

Most of the time, I take Mom on errands with me when I would rather be alone. She loves riding in the car, even though she can’t recall going five minutes after we return home. But in the moment, she’s satisfied and happy. The challenge is that every few minutes she asks the same question: “What town is this?” or makes the same observations: “Isn’t it interesting what people do to their yards?” or “Aren’t the mountains beautiful?”

Those of you raising children know exactly what I’m talking about: Mom, I can’t find my shoes. Where are my Legos? Can I have a snack? Why can’t Jimmy come over? And so it goes. Or the opposite, wondering if your teens will ever talk to you and let you know how they’re doing and what they’re doing. It can be exhausting. And what about maintaining peace at work when someone is having a hard day?

My mother sits quietly in her room much of the time, often sitting with her eyes closed or her head in her hands. This requires that I help her engage in some way. It can take as little as saying, “Mom, crochet,” or as much as walking her outside for a while. My husband Don requires frequent care as well. But if I look, I can find time to rest. But do I?

You, as mothers, know what this is like too. Your littles are busy playing for 30 minutes without fighting, or running around the backyard having fun. Your teens might be napping or off with friends. There is a lull at work. Often in these less hectic moments, instead of resting and being still, we do what needs to be done: dinner prep, laundry, finally getting to the disgusting bathroom, and so forth. Even though we aren’t wrangling kids or others, we are still busy working and keeping an ear out.

Thursday at 8 am, after being on the go since 6:15, I finally knelt to pray. Just as I was finishing, I heard Don calling from the living room. His feet, which were soaking in a special water bath, were done, and he needed help — no time to continue kneeling quietly and listening. No woman I know is immune from these types of interruptions.

So how do we manage? How do we stay calm, feel peace, and be happy despite what life really is? We have to find ways to revive, and for most of us in this season of life, they need to be simple, manageable, and only use small moments of time.

What Fills You Up

Over the years, ideas have come to my mind, some still useful and others that fell by the wayside and were replaced. It’s been a process, not a one-time thing. Here is what I currently do to center myself, reduce stress, find reasons to smile, and feel calm and happy.

Singing. Each evening I sit in the bathroom, my bedroom, or go outside and sing. I love singing. I do it with vim and vigor and never worry about who might hear. It’s wonderful and rejuvenating.

Reading in stolen moments. I always have a book in my bathroom. I visit this room several times a day, and at each visit I read at least one paragraph, sometimes half a page. I love reading; it feels fun, and fun is always restorative.

Getting up early. Although I resisted the impression for several years, I now get up at 6 to 6:30 am. I have found that I can have at least thirty minutes to an hour by myself before another voice is heard. No questions, no needs to fill.

A morning routine that says, “I matter.” Early in the morning, I have a routine that sets me up for the day. I pray, take my nutrition, and get dressed. I put on a small amount of powdered blush and lipstick and give myself a spritz of a perfume I love. I hadn’t done either in years, but when I began this year, it wasn’t for anyone else but me. They are simply small ways of saying, “Mary, I love you.” It’s amazing what tiny acts of self-care can do for the soul. I write three things in my gratitude journal and read my daily affirmations. Focusing on gratitude and reminding myself of who I am matters deeply as the day revs up, the frustrations increase, and the weariness sets in.

Friends who really know me. I have several friends I connect with regularly. I have lunch with one every three months. We live far apart, drive quite a way to meet in the middle, and want to make it special. I schedule calls with others once a month to once every three months. I had one of these calls last week and another this week. What a gift and a relief. I can share hard things. They listen, have good ideas, and we laugh a lot. It’s deeply restorative.

My nightly shower. I shower most nights. I pray for someone else, then feel the water, enjoy the silence, and let the day go. It’s something I have done since I was sixteen and has never lost its power to soothe my soul, return me to calm, and center me as a daughter of God.

My next-day worksheet. Each evening I write down whatever is cluttering my mind on my next-day worksheet. Someone asked me recently if I wake up at night thinking about all the appointments, doctors, and problems coming up. I was able to say, honestly, never. It’s all on a sheet waiting for me in the morning, and I am free to relax and sleep.

Listening and responding. All day long, thoughts come to my mind: that wasn’t okay, try this instead, stop and finish tomorrow, sit down, you’re a silly woman so smile. I believe these thoughts come from God because I am loved and need the help. Following them has made an enormous difference.

None of these things are managed perfectly. I may miss a shower because it’s just too late. I may not read every time I visit the bathroom because someone is calling for me. Not everything in my morning routine gets done every day. But I manage well enough, and that’s why I’ve been able to do what I’m doing for nine years without falling apart.

Look Back to Find What You’ve Lost

My granddaughter Lizzy is a painter and does wonderfully creative work. She has had her paintings in several shows. Recently, she lamented in a Facebook post that she hasn’t painted a single stroke since her daughter Ila was born several months ago. I could relate.

I used to sing constantly, the songs my mother sang from the 1940s and the music I grew up with in the 50s and 60s. I sang while gardening, cleaning, and caring for my kids. When I wasn’t singing, I played music. Then somewhere in the busyness of caring for my mother and Don, I stopped. No music at all. As I have shared, I finally began singing again in the last year and a half, nudged back to it by a quiet thought I believe came from God.

Since writing my recent article on stillness and making space for yourself, I’ve begun playing music again, the music I grew up with and sang as a busy mother of seven. I have found it exhilarating. I hadn’t realized how much I missed something I had quietly let go.

As you look for what rejuvenates you, think back. What did you love and let go of in the busyness of parenting, working, grandparenting? What might still be waiting for you to return to it?

Your Two Mites

As I wrote about recently, the widow’s mite teaches us that what we give from the heart, even when it feels small, is enough. My list will not work for everyone. I am an Upholder with a busy and energetic nature, so this approach works for me. You will need to determine what works for you. Then make a list. Be clear in your own mind about how you’re going to revive each day, regardless of your energy and temperament. A written list of your ideas can show you whether you’re on track or whether some honest pondering is needed.

We all bring what we have. Some days it’s more, and some days it’s two small mites. But given consistently and from the heart, it’s enough for those we serve and for ourselves.