Last night, as I fluffed the pillow beneath my head, I closed my eyes and felt gratitude for the gift of tomorrow. A new day, a new week, a new outlook. Today, as people have been asking me how my weekend was, for the most part, I answer "pretty good" or "not too bad". A select few have borne the burden of hearing some of the details that might suggest otherwise. Was my weekend bad? Am I lying when I say it was "pretty good"? There were definitely some really fun and heartwarming moments this weekend. I even took a few pics of some of those moments, and might consider them social media-worthy. On Friday, my three-year-old daughter and I got to visit my 88-year-old grandmother, and have lunch with her. Just thinking about the collective joy we shared around her little dining room table immediately warms my heart. I can recall several really authentic and fun conversations I had with fellow-mom friends and family. I got to watch my son and the neighbor-boy catch crayfish in our river, and on Saturday night, the kids and I ate pizza on a table cloth on our living room floor and watched A Dog's Purpose. There was soccer in the yard, bike rides, and a hike in Pine Valley. I watched hockey games, got some yard work done, and got to spend a few hours with my 9-year-old as he prepared for his first communion. I even managed (with my husband's help) to get the laundry baskets full of clean clothes, that migrated and multiplied throughout the weekend, folded before I went to bed last night. There were many times when I felt joy, excitement, inspiration, and contentment. It's just that, when I look back on the weekend, those pleasant feelings were often fleeting and swiftly replaced with exhaustion, frustration, disappointment, irritation, or apprehensiveness. I was in a funk. Every time I felt like I had emerged, there was something that sent me wondering back into the fog... I think maybe it started earlier in the week when I felt like I was slowly losing ground on both our morning and our evening routines. Or maybe it was Friday morning when I decided it was time to reckon with the chest freezer (I had discovered on Wednesday morning the freezer in the basement had been mistakingly unplugged by our electrician sometime on Tuesday). Let me tell you, spending several hours tossing out frozen pizzas, boxes of pre-made cookies, and t-bone steaks, AND THEN chiseling through two inches of red-tinted chunks of ice on the bottom of a freezer can really get to a person. BUT, I managed to salvage the afternoon and had a really nice evening with the fam. It wasn't until bedtime, when I ventured out into the dark to put bikes away, that the fog moved back in. We've had contractors in our basement since February, so between the contents of our basement and a new boat my husband has been working on, our garage is stuffed so full that cramming three bikes in there (even with very low expectations for how wide of a path I needed to make it back into the house) was nearly impossible. I knew I was in a bad place, so after putting the boys to bed, I decided my best bet was to hit the rack myself and start tomorrow fresh. Saturday morning I woke up, got a run in, and was feeling optimistic as I ventured out to hockey with my eldest son. When we got home, my husband and I traded places and I took over the little ones while he got my 9-year-old ready for his second wave of hockey games. We'd been doing this back and forth thing for days now, leaving very little time to communicate, validate, and cut any tension that had been growing between us (like the tension I created when I stomped into the house the night before annoyed that our garage was stuffed full of his "crap"). By the time my husband got home from helping his dad out with a project on Saturday evening, the kids and I were grooving on our pizza and movie party. Now, looking back, in what I believe was an attempt to join in on our evening, my husband made a comment to my son about a broken bike reflector that was on our dining room table. I immediately reacted to his comment and interpreted it as him trying to make my son feel bad. My son corrected me and stated that what my husband said did NOT make him feel bad. Marital tension boiled over and words were exchanged. On Sunday morning, now that the lid on the tension pot was blown off, things were going pretty smoothly. We'd arrived home from church and were going to scarf some food before heading in two different directions again. What happened next was a rapid series of events (and questionable parenting decisions) that resulted in our pickup truck backing through the neighbors fence and into their front yard. Somehow we staggered through the remainder of the day, oddly enough feeling more "together" than we had all weekend. In between hockey, tending to three kids, and your typical Sunday chores, we squeezed in mending fences (and relationships) and looking online for a playhouse to replace the one that the truck had flattened.
This morning I woke up at 5:00 am ready to take on whatever the day had to bring. It was a new day, and it brought me the fresh start that I desperately needed. Boy am I grateful that both my husband and I have jobs to go to on Monday morning, the kids are able to be in school and daycare, and we have the means to fix things and make them right. I am also grateful for VERY UNDERSTANDING neighbors. Thank you so much Brittany and Matt for making a terrible situation a little less so. Please don't forget to subscribe if you want to be notified when I post something new!
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I am lucky to have this friend, Chelsea, who just gets me on so many levels. We are both school psychologists, have a ton of common interests, young kids, and brains that work in similar ways (in other words we learn by trying and failing at things and then trying again until we stumble upon something that works). Chelsea and I try to get together at least a few times a year, which isn't easy since our lives are equally chaotic and she lives in Madison. Back in the days before marriage and kids we started this tradition where Chelsea and I gather a small group of the coolest women we know and canoe into the Boundary Waters Canoe Area (BWCA) for a few days. This year, in the company of some equally amazing ladies, I ventured out into the BWCA for the first time without Chelsea. It ended up being a great trip, but as I look back now, for a few weeks leading up to the trip I was grieving the fact that Chelsea wasn't going to be a part of the experience. More recently, as I prepared to talk to the Esko staff during our fall workshop week about supporting students and one another during a pandemic, this concept of grief and the grieving process rose to the surface. Think about it. Right now all of us are grieving something. Our grief may span from the individual losses of loved ones, to financial security, to feelings of safety. Heck, my 6-year-old son, Brock, is still grieving the loss of his birthday party (He turned 6 way back in April.) Our grief may also be from the collective losses of annual trips and celebrations, youth sports and activities, or just plain old normalcy. This pandemic is a perpetual reminder of how fragile both our lives, and life as we know it really is. It makes sense that people (myself included) are all over the place emotionally. Observing what is going on with our society right now through the lens of grief brought me back to a book I studied with some of my colleagues a few years back called Option B. After the tragic and sudden death of her husband, Sheryl Sandberg (COO at Facebook) co-wrote Option B with psychologist Adam Grant (I reference another article written by Adam Grant in one of my earlier blog posts Reconsidering My Response). The book, Option B, looks at decades of research on how people deal with adversity, setbacks, challenges, and crisis. In this research they reference something called the "3 P's"; these are mindsets we often find ourselves in while in the midst of crisis, adversity, and grief. Sheryl and Adam outline the 3Ps in their book as:
As I stop to think about the personal and collective hardships my country, my family, my friends, my colleagues, and I have been through I am encouraged by our resilience. I've heard Brene' Brown on multiple occasions state that people are built for two things: struggle and strength. The human brain has the capacity to push, to focus, and to learn at all ages. I think it's totally wild that in stressful situations our brains naturally release chemicals which then fuel our body to engage in purposeful action. And when our brain and body start to go into shut-down mode, a little boost from the neurotransmitter, dopamine, can help us to push forward and go further. (Dopamine is an important chemical messenger in the brain that washes over us and makes everything feel good when released in large amounts.) There are things we can do everyday for ourselves that prime our bodies for dopamine. Most of these things like eating healthy, exercise, getting enough sunlight, and getting enough rest are pretty basic things AND are really hard for us to do consistently when we are stressed. There is also something else, that while in the midst of a stressful situation, can give us an immediate dopamine boost and help us push forward . Social Connection Today it's widely understood that one way to prevent and address toxic stress experienced in childhood is through healthy social connections. While a traumatic past may increase our risk of bad things happening in the future, adversity doesn't destroy everyone. Those who prevail through difficult experiences are almost always rescued through relationships; and love. Love in the context of relationships. Seeking out opportunities where we feel a sense of belonging through shared experiences, humor, and play are what is going to get us and our kids through this pandemic. A few weeks ago, I was plugging through the morning routine with my kids and I decided to FaceTime my friend Chelsea. Our communication is almost exclusively through short little text messages, but for some reason I felt the need to give her a call. In the midst of our chaos, we got to see each other's faces. We connected. A series of things simultaneously occurred on Chelsea's end of the line and she had to hang up. The text message she sent me a few minutes later gave me a dopamine boost that got me through the rest of the day and makes me smile today just by looking at it. In their book Option B, Sandberg and Grant define resilience as the strength and speed of our response to adversity. They remind us that resilience isn't a fixed personality trait, but rather something akin to a muscle that we can build. There are so many things about this pandemic that feel like the dead squirrel in the pool, but as parents we have an opportunity to model and teach our children how to find a way forward. We can start by helping them develop four core beliefs that Sandberg and Grant outline in Option B:
In addition to having strong social connections, another common characteristic of resilient children is having a strong sense of control over their own lives and destiny. In my house I try to foster a sense of shared control (See my earlier blog post on hoarding control) and hold my kids accountable for their actions and behavior by communicating clear and consistent expectations. This structure and predictability helps give kids a sense of control over their environment. There is so much uncertainty in our lives right now. We don't know how this school year is going to go. We don't know when this pandemic will end. We don't know if tomorrow we will wake up to find a dead squirrel in our pool, AND there is so much that we do know and so much that we can control. We know that we all have real strengths that we can offer the world and rely on when times are tough. We all have the ability to push, focus, and learn. We all matter as human beings. We get to decide if we show up for our kids and one another as our raw, emotional, authentic selves. We get to decide if we choose to make time for one another and seek others out with kindness. I am going to try to start my day today by asking myself these two questions:
Let me know how you answered these questions in the comments below and please don't forget to subscribe so you can be notified when I post something new!!! |
AuthorMy name is Alissa Anderson. I am the School Psychologist for the Esko Public School District in Esko, MN. I am also a mother of three and was certified as a Love and Logic Parent Educator in 2009. Archives
January 2023
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