Conscious Discipline rocks my world


Parenthood: the last bastion of amateurism. Thank you Grandfather for the pithy and succinct nugget.

Not one that I totally understood until I crossed the threshold into parenthood myself. As the Bean begins to really move into a vocabulary and expressing her wants in a way that is both exciting and can be difficult.

Oh are you clamoring to be picked up and grabbing my legs while I am cleaning a chicken for dinner. Awesome. My choices are typhoid for the family or to let you be upset.

I am trying to brush your hair and you are objecting by putting hands with banana and oatmeal into your hair and pulling. I don't have a tail to hold down your arms while I finish braiding your hair. Awesome. Oatmeal rats nest hair it is.

So thank goodness for Conscious Discipline ~ without which I would be totally lost for words and responses.

Instead of, "Mom is trying to make you dinner and you grabbing my legs and holding is making me CRAZY!" I take a deep breath and say, "Bean, you were hoping to be picked up. I cannot pick you up right now, but I will the moment I can. It is not safe for me to pick you up with raw chicken on my hands."

Instead of, "Fine! I am going to SHAVE off your hair because you are driving me CRAZY!" and running into the bathroom to take some deep breaths in the mirror feeling guilty because she looked so shocked at my tone of voice... Well, actually, that is what happened.

Sigh. This whole thing is a work in progress.

But in the meantime, I can watch Dr. Bailey and have a North Star for my behavior.