As I'm feeling better, today ... :)
Let's move directly to where we left off, yesterday ...
I was on a mission to improve communications, concerning, cooperation ...
And having been a Girl Scout, who takes what I've learned to heart, I prepare myself to talk to my family, thoughtfully, with positive focus intact. First off, I set a time for a family meeting when everyone is available. Next, I prepare a good natured strategy in hopes of opening ears that classically tune me out whenever these words leave my mouth: How many times do I have to ask you to ... blah, blah blah—again ... Then, I remind myself to behave with my family in such a respectful manner as to show each one that which I hope to receive in return ... you know how that goes—do un to others ...
Make no mistake. My family is made up of exceptional individuals (if I say so myself), each of whom I love deeply and enjoy thoroughly, for good reason. However, if the truth be told, experience suggests that most everyone I know will let the other guy shoulder the crux of the load if given half a chance to do less. By keeping that thought in mind, my frustration lines up with reality in that I don't wallow in thoughts of poor me. I just know that something has to change, and nothing changes till the person most in need of change takes the lead, and in this case that person is me. So, in the interest of creating change in record time, I cast aside all thoughts of throwing myself a pity party and challenge the problem solving side of my brain to brainstorm toward a solution that will lead my people into the promised land.
As this meeting will take place around the kitchen table, I arrange for simple snacks, nothing fancy. Gosh, I think, if my family liked milk and honey, that's what I'd serve in hopes that they'd get my drift in a flash ... as it is, I decide on fresh veggies and dip. Though as a group, they tend to pass on veggies at dinner, too often, I've watched the ravenous nature of growing boys munch on a carrot if a flavorful dip is placed, near by—and nothing else is offered up. I'd thought that moms were meant to be loving; then, having become a loving mom, I learned how often loving and woman's wiles go hand in hand.
On the day of our meeting and in hopes of gaining everyone's attention, I start out by saying something that no one has heard me say, before. As soon as Papa Bear and all the cubs are seated round the kitchen table, here is pretty much what I remember floating through the air:
"I've asked for this meeting, because it's come to my attention that there's something I'd forgotten about myself. I am more than a wife and mother. Just like you, I'm a person with feelings, who deserves respect. And lately, I think my feelings and self respect have experienced neglect. Though all of you love me, I feel taken advantage of and that has to stop. I ask for smiles attached to helpful attitudes but am answered by frowns and dragging feet. I think that happens, because everyone in our family leads a busy, productive life. I think that happens, because there's so much on your minds that my words get lost in the mix. I think none of you knows how much of my time is spent making family life in our home zip along like a well balanced top. I think I'm tuned out, because while doing, organizing and solving, I keep smiling instead of yelling, which is why none of you realizes how tired I've become. So, here's what I decided to do. I placed a pencil and spiral pad of paper in my pocket and spent the last week writing down every single thing that I do for each of you that keeps me running from dawn to—dawn, and this Timex has run down."
Now, while the kids are scratching their heads (Timex?), I lay the list on the kitchen table and read it aloud. This proves to be a really long list, so by the time I come to the end, everyone looks chagrin. Wow, Mom, you really do a lot! Though I take that comment to mean ... Thank you ... and though I appreciate the heartfelt sentiment in the murmurings now circling the table, instinct suggests that feeling heard is not what I'm after, so, I hear myself reply: "Most times I let you know what kind of consequence to expect before it is applied. This time, I feel you need to find out what it might feel like if I was not here to do everything that makes our family hum harmonically. So, I'm going on strike." As jaws drop, I continue ... Here's what going on strike means to me ..."
Let's move directly to where we left off, yesterday ...
I was on a mission to improve communications, concerning, cooperation ...
And having been a Girl Scout, who takes what I've learned to heart, I prepare myself to talk to my family, thoughtfully, with positive focus intact. First off, I set a time for a family meeting when everyone is available. Next, I prepare a good natured strategy in hopes of opening ears that classically tune me out whenever these words leave my mouth: How many times do I have to ask you to ... blah, blah blah—again ... Then, I remind myself to behave with my family in such a respectful manner as to show each one that which I hope to receive in return ... you know how that goes—do un to others ...
Make no mistake. My family is made up of exceptional individuals (if I say so myself), each of whom I love deeply and enjoy thoroughly, for good reason. However, if the truth be told, experience suggests that most everyone I know will let the other guy shoulder the crux of the load if given half a chance to do less. By keeping that thought in mind, my frustration lines up with reality in that I don't wallow in thoughts of poor me. I just know that something has to change, and nothing changes till the person most in need of change takes the lead, and in this case that person is me. So, in the interest of creating change in record time, I cast aside all thoughts of throwing myself a pity party and challenge the problem solving side of my brain to brainstorm toward a solution that will lead my people into the promised land.
As this meeting will take place around the kitchen table, I arrange for simple snacks, nothing fancy. Gosh, I think, if my family liked milk and honey, that's what I'd serve in hopes that they'd get my drift in a flash ... as it is, I decide on fresh veggies and dip. Though as a group, they tend to pass on veggies at dinner, too often, I've watched the ravenous nature of growing boys munch on a carrot if a flavorful dip is placed, near by—and nothing else is offered up. I'd thought that moms were meant to be loving; then, having become a loving mom, I learned how often loving and woman's wiles go hand in hand.
On the day of our meeting and in hopes of gaining everyone's attention, I start out by saying something that no one has heard me say, before. As soon as Papa Bear and all the cubs are seated round the kitchen table, here is pretty much what I remember floating through the air:
"I've asked for this meeting, because it's come to my attention that there's something I'd forgotten about myself. I am more than a wife and mother. Just like you, I'm a person with feelings, who deserves respect. And lately, I think my feelings and self respect have experienced neglect. Though all of you love me, I feel taken advantage of and that has to stop. I ask for smiles attached to helpful attitudes but am answered by frowns and dragging feet. I think that happens, because everyone in our family leads a busy, productive life. I think that happens, because there's so much on your minds that my words get lost in the mix. I think none of you knows how much of my time is spent making family life in our home zip along like a well balanced top. I think I'm tuned out, because while doing, organizing and solving, I keep smiling instead of yelling, which is why none of you realizes how tired I've become. So, here's what I decided to do. I placed a pencil and spiral pad of paper in my pocket and spent the last week writing down every single thing that I do for each of you that keeps me running from dawn to—dawn, and this Timex has run down."
Now, while the kids are scratching their heads (Timex?), I lay the list on the kitchen table and read it aloud. This proves to be a really long list, so by the time I come to the end, everyone looks chagrin. Wow, Mom, you really do a lot! Though I take that comment to mean ... Thank you ... and though I appreciate the heartfelt sentiment in the murmurings now circling the table, instinct suggests that feeling heard is not what I'm after, so, I hear myself reply: "Most times I let you know what kind of consequence to expect before it is applied. This time, I feel you need to find out what it might feel like if I was not here to do everything that makes our family hum harmonically. So, I'm going on strike." As jaws drop, I continue ... Here's what going on strike means to me ..."
Though ordinarily it had been my habit to inform my family about a consequence before implementing it, exhaustion called for immediate measures. And since everyone was accustomed to my following through with consistency whenever consequences proved necessary, no one called my bluff, meaning that power struggles did not raise their ornery little heads, and no one played tug of war. Instead, this is what took place: On my end, I pulled five homemade tools out of my tool box (my brain) and put each one to good use in hopes of retuning our household's routine :) On their end ... well ... as posts continue to pop up on your screen, you'll see how both ends of the rope, mine and theirs, eventually meet in the middle, creating a circle of cooperation, where consideration for everyone's needs, mine included, shapes into a good natured loop rather than a noose :)
Stay tuned if you'd like to hear why I got to say: Don'tcha just love it when a plan comes together and meets with success, all around! :)
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