The past hour I’ve been trying to (mindfully, of course!) make dinner, go through the mail, empty the lunch boxes, organize the things I bought at CVS…and I’ve got nothing done. I’ve been busy playing a game of Ping-Pong. No, I haven’t been hanging out in my garage with a beer and a small paddle in hand. Rather, I’ve actually been the ball in this game of Ping-Pong, between my two daughters, going back and forth, back and forth through a series of, “Mom, can you come here?” and “Mom, I need help!” My daughters are 7½ and 10 years old. They are very capable; I’ve raised them to be this way. For years they have been very self-sufficient: both of my girls have made their beds, gotten themselves dressed, washed up, and cleaned their room, put away their laundry, and can make themselves breakfast…just to name a few of their independent abilities. I know they are capable beings. So why is it that I find myself so frustrated when they are constantly, and I mean constantly, asking me to “Come here?”

I am a really good mom: I work at being patient; I try not to raise my voice; I guide them to be their best selves; I honor their uniqueness; I’m fun and we have dance parties; I cook with them; and I snuggle them in their beds. But I think what makes me the best mom I can be is that I practice mindfulness.

I breathe. I strive at being present. I am aware of when I get caught up in my own “stuff.” I practice responding and not reacting. I try to stay connected to my intentions.

So, when being mindful, I judge myself for getting annoyed when they ask for help all the time. I think I get frustrated because it appears that they are not attempting at slowing down, stopping to think, and trying to solve the problem on their own. I have tried teaching them this; oh believe me, I am all about the teachable moments. Over and over again, I help them, while reminding them that helping does not mean doing everything for them or giving them the answer on their homework. Helping means that I give them the tools to figure it out on their own. Isn’t that what a mindful parent is supposed to do…to provide your child with tools to help them find their own way in the world?

I believe kids today have grown used to having instant gratification. On a societal level, I think it’s easy to blame this on technology and social media; almost everything they could need is at their fingertips. But in my home, I can’t credit social media and technology as the problem; it doesn’t really apply to my own kids. Yes, they have an iTouch…but they don’t even use it every day. They don’t even watch TV every day. They don’t have their own iPad, computer, Kindle or any other device. I know…they are pretty atypical kids in 2014. But somewhere, and not from me, they’ve learned that they don’t want to think for themselves. I have actively tried raising them to be independent, capable, thoughtful, inquisitive… I can see why I am getting so frustrated when being called over 100 times in 10 minutes!

I think I’m partly annoyed because chores and to-do lists are part of motherhood and interruptions make it difficult to get anything done. The other part, the bigger part, is that I would like for them to try to be more autonomous in their thinking. But then, I remember my practice…my mindfulness practice.

And I remember to stop. I remember to slow down. I remember to breathe. And I just notice the feeling of being frustrated. I experience it in my body as I feel the tingling under the surface of my skin. As I open my awareness to my frustration, I remember not to judge it. I tell myself, this is simply what frustration feels like. I remember that it’s not their fault – they are only young kids who are still learning to navigate their way in the world. I am blessed to have children; I wanted them. I specifically wanted two girls and I got them! And then I remember to welcome and honor the chaos that is the after-school-homework-hour and this game of Ping-Pong because this is exactly what I wanted, frustrations and all.

Once I remember to come back to my center, back into my body and out of my head, back to my breath and my intention, I remember to respond with kindness and compassion. Then I do my best to breathe into, and then release, any feelings of frustration that arise. I watch my experience rise and then fall without allowing it to take over and take me away from being the mindful parent I strive to be. I also remember to be grateful that they need me. One day, they might not turn to me or ask me for assistance, with anything. And when that day comes, I will be longing for an afternoon game of Ping-Pong.

Posted on 1/22/2013

Written by Joree Rosenblatt

Joree Rosenblatt has a Master’s in Counseling Psychology and is a mindfulness educator in the Bay Area. In addition to working at a K-8 private school teaching mindfulness to students, she teaches her original curriculum to adults, and onsite in corporations, in the Fundamentals of Mindfulness and Mindful Parenting. Joree’s true passion is raising her two daughters, mindfully of course…well, most of the time! Even though she already is a rock star mom, Joree practices mindfulness every day, and when all else fails, she remembers to take a moment and just breathe.

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