you see—If a child won’t respond to your questions (a good clue that she may be upset about something), try reflecting what you see: “Hmmm . . . I see a lot of teeth showing on that guy’s face. I wonder what he is feeling?” or “I see this guy doing something to that guy.” Literally stating what you see in the art is a noninterpretive and nonjudgmental approach that may help your child start talking about her art.
• Address the feelings—If your child expresses anger, frustration, or hurt feelings toward you or someone else, let him know that you appreciate that he shared how he feels. Also let him know that you’re glad that he used drawing to feel better rather than saying or doing something hurtful to the other person.
• Teach empathy—While we want to validate art making as a good way to express difficult feelings, it’s also important to teach children about the power of pictures and words to hurt the feelings of others: “I’m glad that you are dealing with your anger toward your sister with drawings. How do you think she might feel if she saw this, though? . . . Yeah, so it’s a good way for you to get your feelings out and, at the same time, showing her would hurt her feelings and not solve the problem. Instead, when you’re ready, we can go tell her that you didn’t like what she did to you.”
• Seek a second opinion—If you are concerned about a child (or find that you are trying to convince yourself not to be concerned), do not probe further than what feels comfortable to you. Instead, talk to someone about it. Seek the input of a teacher, school administrator, friend, or therapist. If you are not the parent, share your observations and concerns with the parents or others.
LETTING GO
During a visit to the home of my in-laws, I introduce window crayons to my kids and their cousins. The crayons seem harmless enough. Draw on the window. Wipe it off. What fun! Unexpected condensation, however, spells disaster. The window drawings drip and smear and—worse—stain my mother-in-law’s new, white window blinds. Yikes! My mother-in-law tries to convince me, “It’s okay. Really. I’m really okay with it.” But how can she be? It isn’t going to come out. I feel terrible. She continues, “Whenever I look at it, now, it will remind me of the kids and what a nice time we all had together.” I am in awe.
Change your thoughts and change your experience. Despite the number of times that I teach this in my therapy practice and workshops, I’m always amazed at its effectiveness when put into practice. My mother-in-law easily could have told herself that her blinds were “ruined.” She could have lamented about the amount of money she had spent on them and how new they were. But she didn’t. This moment held in it the potential for frustration, disappointment, and annoyance. And yet, it equally held the potential for understanding, nostalgia, and joy. It wasn’t a given. It was a choice, and she chose the latter.
When we start to notice how we think and feel about daily events with our children, we begin to see how powerful our beliefs are about those events. Although changing how you think about spilled paint may not seem like a big deal, small creative moments that push your buttons are ideal opportunities to practice noticing your reactions and then shifting your thoughts and feelings to a more neutral, if not positive, framework. Stained blinds. Messy spills. Sticky fingerprints. Loud instruments. Scuffs on the floor from tap shoes. These are cringe-worthy moments that, if reframed, can not only strengthen our tolerance muscle but also help us experience parenting in a whole new light. Plus, they provide effective role modeling for our children.
Practice these four simple steps (see fig. 2.8):
1. Notice your thoughts—Notice your knee-jerk responses by acknowledging your present thoughts. Is your thought a judgment (“Ugh—that sounds horrible!”), worry (“I’ll never get the stain out”), or criticism (“How could he be so . . .”)? Notice the thought and name it “judgment,” “worry,” “criticism,” or whatever other label fits best.
2. Notice your feelings—How do your present thoughts and narratives about the situation affect your feelings about what’s going on?
3. Accept that it’s already done—We can’t change the fact that paint spilled, so why resist it? Try telling yourself, “It’s already done. It’s okay.” Or “It’s already in the past. We can deal with it.”
4. Look for something to savor—Ask yourself: “In the grand scheme of things, how big of a setback is this mishap? Is there anything about this moment that I can appreciate? Might I someday look back on this and smile or laugh? Could this be a good story to tell?”
2.8 Shift from worry and judgment to acceptance and savoring
Try not to be discouraged if you don’t feel blissful each time the violin shrieks, paint flies, or tears fall. Setbacks are an important part of an innovative life, and of parenting. Start by simply aiming to feel slightly less irritated than usual. Work up to letting go a little more. As when strengthening muscles, start lightly with lots of repetitions. Over time, small day-to-day shifts will add up to big changes. Through this creative process, you can build the strength you need for the heavy lifting of parenthood.
3
Survive the Day
I’m cooking dinner and balancing on one foot, as my other foot bounces my six-week-old in his baby chair. My daughter is screaming, “I SAID stop it!” from the adjacent room. My older son continues to provoke her. I shout from the kitchen, “Something isn’t working in there!” No good. It continues. I maintain my cool as I move to ineffective tactic number two: “Come into the kitchen!” I shout to my oldest. “I’m trying to cook dinner and take care of your baby brother, and I can’t have you antagonizing your sister in there!” My son runs into his bedroom and slams the door before returning to bop me on the back with a wrapping-paper-roll-turned-light-saber. Laughing menacingly, he returns to his room and slams the door again. He’s angry. I stand outside his door and invite him to talk. No good. I try empathy: “You’re upset.” He shouts, “Go away!” I offer a hug (that can sometimes disarm him). No response. I give him some space and then try to talk again. He yells, “I can’t hear you!” Argh! But then I take a piece of paper, draw a sad face, and slip it under the door. He opens the door and lets me give him a hug. Then we talk about what happened.
Parenting is challenging, not only because our children can push our buttons but also because we’re often stretched in many directions at once. Nine-to-five jobs notwithstanding, there are places to go, boo-boos to kiss, tantrums to de-escalate, feelings to repair, fights to break up, homework assignments to supervise, appointments to make, meals to prepare, rooms to clean, bills to pay, bottoms to wipe, and teeth to brush. We take “time-saving” shortcuts like shouting from the other room (yep, guilty), which actually create bigger problems that take longer to resolve. While it’s hard to image that drawing, singing, or dancing can help you with those grocery-store tantrums and homework protests, it’s even harder to believe that the creative arts will save you precious time. But they can. This chapter explores how.
CREATIVE CURES TO CONFLICTS
Art can give you access to your children when words don’t. When emotions run high or your children feel miles away from you; when you’re knocking but they’re pretending that nobody’s home, art gives you a key to get in through the back door. Even if you would describe your relationship with your child as generally positive, connected, and mutually respectful, everyone experiences times of rupture now and again. Day-to-day conflicts that arise
