As a mother to four young boys, I have had the
dubious privilege of wiping many bottoms over the past seven years. I wish I
could say that this phase of my life was over, but alas, my youngest is six
weeks old. My four-year old still needs assistance. My oldest is getting there,
but he continues to cry for help when he knows I’m within ear shot. Such is the
life of mother. Yet, in the midst of this poop, I have devised a D-I-A-P-E-R 4
Life Strategy that makes me laugh and keeps me sane. The metaphor of diaper
works for me because I “get it.”
What is a diaper? It’s an invention that collects
unwanted toilet-things and encases them in a handy package allowing me to wipe
it all up with a minimum of fuss (really – even the worst case scenarios are
better than no diaper at all) and dispose of this stuff with a minimum of
hassle. What it doesn’t do is prevent the toilet-things from coming; that’s
natural. So, too, it is with life.
As a mother, I know that there will be moments when
I am tired and out of patience. I know that sometimes my two year old will cry
because I won’t give him another piece of candy or whatever it is he wants. I
know that there will be moments when frustration will build up either on my
side or on that of my children. These things, like poop, are inevitable. It
helps, however, to have a strategy in place for dealing with those times when
my metaphorical “body” is attempting to flush out what it no longer needs – the
residue of negative emotions that are much better off in an easily-disposed-of
container, a “diaper,” if you will.
My D-I-A-P-E-R 4 Life Strategy is a six lettered
acronym for those daily equivalents of
“if-mommy-doesn’t-do-these-things-she-will-explode-and-it-won’t-be-pretty.” The
first letter is a reminder to myself to take some Down time to reconnect with
me. It is my promise that I will take whatever time I can find to breathe, to
sit in silence and to shut out the existence of everyone else for just a moment
or two. Sometimes my “down” moments come in the bathroom when I have two
minutes to myself and I can sigh a breath of quiet stillness. Other times, I
have an hour or more to enjoy the peace of my own company. It doesn’t matter
how long I have. What matters is that I have a strategy that tells me to take
those down moments when they present themselves, to appreciate them and to
recognize that I have had them when the chaos of motherhood is giving me a
headache. That reasoning has offered me a path to calmness when before my
emotions had no direction to go but up. My kids benefit from a mom who has a
path to inner peace in place.
Next, I take the “I” and Imagine myself in the
position of my kids. Am I as tired as they are? Am I overwhelmed by a world
that invites ship-loads of new information practically every second of the day?
What advantages do I have as an adult other than everything!? When I turn the tables and do my best to see the world
from their point of view, suddenly their antics become less problematic and
more the behaviors of someone who, quite simply, has less experience in the
world. It also has the added benefit of taking me out of my own head and my own
story, which can spiral quickly into “victim-land.” My kids are not
perpetrators of inner-peace destroying acts of malevolency; they are immature
beings who have yet to learn how much there is on any mom’s plate. I can take
the proactive step of imagining myself in their position to reach a middle
ground of greater understanding. When this happens, I snap out of my downward
spiral and greet the situation with a lot more love.
With “A,” I Ask myself, “What can I learn from
this?” This question turns any situation into something lighter than it was
before. Sometimes that answer requires a bit of self-inquiry into where I am at
any stage in my life. Other times the answer pops up immediately as “more
patience,” “don’t forget to pack extra underwear next time,” or “shopping
during nap time is never a good idea.” Whatever it is, once I have asked the
question, “What can I learn from this?” I immediately open up the space in my
own heart and mind to grow from the experience and to become a better mom as a
result. This creates a win-win for everyone. Maybe my child DID have a
miserable shopping experience because he should have been sleeping, but I am
making progress as a human being by proactively learning from our misery and
taking positive steps that will ensure we both have a better time in the
future. When I go deeper, I always find new aspects of myself to consider and
to reevaluate where and how my beliefs about life are serving me or otherwise.
When I find a belief that isn’t helpful, I can do something about it. I can
choose to adopt a more helpful attitude. All of these things arise because I am
constantly asking myself, “What can I learn from this?”
“P” is a reminder to Pay attention to the bigger
picture. There is the context of their whole life and of mine. Whatever is
happening, I know it shall pass. This means that I can appreciate the precious
moments with even greater depth. It also means that I can treat the difficult
moments with less importance. I am attached to a broader universal panorama
than just the immediate chaos before me. As often as I can, I take a moment to
step back and see the bigger picture for what it is – a tapestry of highs and
lows that create the beauty of a life, a whole life. If I focus too much on the
frustrations of motherhood right now
(the poopy diapers, the tantrums, the disappointments of not always being given
exactly what you want when you want it and so on), then I lose sight of the
people I am shepherding into adulthood. I want them to grow up to love their
lives, to treat all people kindly and to know how to participate in the world
on their own two feet. If I am going to keep my eye on that ball, I must have
an overlying awareness at all times of
the bigger picture of their lives and my brief sojourn as chief influencer.
This is more important than any amount of peas all over the floor.
The “E” of D-I-A-P-E-R is the Evocation of my inner
adult. Being a mom is tiring at times. I don’t always have an endless supply of
patience and goodwill with which to greet the spilled milk on the couch. It is
during these moments that I must dig deep to evoke the inner adult that can
handle the situations of life like an adult, rather than like a child. I want
to have a tantrum too from time to time. That does not mean, however, that I
should have one in front of my two year old. There is a time and a place for
releasing pent-up frustrations. We teach our children how to deal with anger,
but we don’t often follow our own advice. I have a chair in which I sit when I
need to be present with my frustration. It is a place I go when I have to work
something out in my heart before I can go forward. Still, I have three kids to
take care of. If I cannot make it to the chair immediately, then I evoke my
inner adult and do what is necessary until I can go to the chair. Evoking the
inner adult means we recognize that we are the more experienced party in the
parent/child dynamic. It means that we have the maturity to deal with
situations on an emotional level that our children are still new at. My excuses
for anger and frustration are many, but I am not the child who simply lashes
out. I am the adult who has the tools at her disposal to handle my frustrations
with constructive techniques that send the frustration back to a more neutral
position. It is not always easy to keep a mature outlook in the heat of the
moment, but by evoking my inner adult, I get there. I get there.
Finally, “R” is the Read your Mission Statement for
Motherhood reminder. About four years ago, I sat down and wrote out a Mission
Statement for Motherhood (you can read mine on page 18 of my book The Way of the Toddler). I wanted to
make a public statement about my core values as a mom and as a human being. For
weeks, I wrote and revised a Mission Statement until I felt I had something
eternal. This was my declaration to the world of what I stood for as this
mother to three (then two) kids, as a wife, as a daughter, as a sister and as
just plain old Leta Hamilton. After writing it, I printed out two copies and
framed them. Once frame hangs in my kitchen and the other in my bedroom. Taking
the time to read them each day grounds me to the earth and sets the tone for
who I want to be in the world. It is a form of meditation and realignment with
what I hold most precious. Not everyone has taken the time to write out a
Mission Statement for Motherhood. If you haven’t, might I suggest you do that
before you end the month? It is a wonderful tool for becoming clear on what
matters to you most. When you are clear on what matters, you know when to let
go of the small stuff and when doing something more is required. Having set out
your core values, you are ready to hone the necessary traits that will create
those values in your life and those of your children. Again, win-win for all.
Together, these six steps create a “diaper” effect
that allows me to deal with whatever life throws my way. Yes, there may be a
mess to clean up, but I have a handy little strategy to keep things
light-hearted, relatively pain-free and ship-loads easier than dealing with the
aftermath of emotional fallout on the cream-colored couch of family. We each have
a place and a purpose in this world. With strategies to help deal with the
stuff of relationship that challenges us and causes imbalance to our inner resources
of calm and cool-headedness, we can ensure that those relationships remain
strong throughout our lifetimes. I, for one, would like my children to want to see me in their adulthood. The
D-I-A-P-E-R 4 Life Strategy I use on a daily basis gives me the confidence that
they will. There is always a letter of the acronym that applies to whatever
situation I am involved, that gives me a “way out” to a more centered and
clear-headed approach to responding and that offers an opportunity for
learning, growing and becoming more of the person I want to be. It is, in
short, a great diaper for living.
