The last month or so has been a more difficult time for me. Between a heavy workload at my daytime job, several things to accomplish in a short time frame at home, difficult news domestically and internationally, I feel more and more like I’ve been drawing from my cup without making sure to refill it. Ultimately, there are only so many times I can seek internal resources and strength when I haven’t been taking care of myself before I’m going to come up empty.
Also, I know it’s kind of sacrilegious to say this in Minnesota, but I’m not that crazy about winter. I accept it as a fact of life, but I just want to get through it. I don’t like going outside in the cold and – especially when there are weeks in a row where it’s too cold for my kids to get outside at school or home – things can get challenging with their energy level and finding appropriate indoor activities.
Anyway, it was the 64th day of January, super cold outside, and someone had a fever so we were locked down at home. There was bickering, I couldn’t finish a conversation or a task without being interrupted, and I was not in a good headspace. It was coming out in my interactions with my children and my spouse.
In these types of situations, when I find myself irritable, inflexible, and frustrated, it can often take some time before I realize the problem is with me. This is not to say that my children never engage in problematic behavior, but rather, that as one of two co-managers of team Gershone, I set the tone for the function of our home. If I am short-tempered and stubborn, I’m not providing the type of leadership that’s needed.
Judaism teaches the value of kibud av va’em (honoring one’s parents). At the same time, we as parents need to act in ways that are worthy of honor. We know that children will imitate what they see us do and hear us say, and that they are always watching and listening, even when we don’t know it.
I’m allowed to have hard times in my life, and to not always be a perfect parent. I can model self-reflection and repair for my children. There will always be those days when, for whatever reason, I am short on patience. But I am responsible for my own self-care to ensure that I have something left to continue to draw from and give to my children.
I do know these things, and I try to act in accordance with them. The problem was, the next day was the 65th day of January, and it didn’t feel much different than the day before. If anything, it could have been harder because now two kids had fevers.
Except it wasn’t harder. And I only have one thing to attribute that to: the concept of zooming out.
Many years ago, I was a preschool teacher. One of my responsibilities was to conduct parent/teacher conferences, where I would go through a document showing the growth and progress a child had made in the last six to twelve months and discuss with parents their goals for their children.
I very clearly remember a conference with a family that was very concerned that their child was not fully toilet-trained. A concern, to be sure, but we had discussed it many times already before that day. We spent so much time talking about it that we weren’t discussing any of the growth and progress their child had made. I finally said, “He will eventually use the toilet! He’s not going to go to his senior prom in a diaper!” They started laughing and agreed that I was right.
At that time, I wasn’t a parent myself. For me, I find the greatest difficulty is that I lose perspective on the current situation and its challenges. If I can zoom out, even for a moment, I’m able to remember my long-term goals and objectives, the recent growth of my children and the challenges they are learning to overcome. It makes whatever is happening today not seem quite so hard, or at least, puts it into perspective. And it worked once again, on the 65th day of January.
