44: Wisdom

This morning, I was up and walking around, trying to get my kids ready for school. They had woken me up with pleasant snuggles and whispered birthday greetings in my ear. It all started out great, but it soon turned into little moments of chaos as we all got ready for the day. My daughter has been enjoying sick days on the couch, so she has started asking to be home. I had to tell her no several times, and then console her when she didn't get her wish. My son typically wanders around the house, but this morning he got ready quickly and had some time to play with Legos before school. While I’m wrangling everyone—helping my children regulate and move through the morning—I usually forget that I have to regulate myself, too. I become overwhelmed with everything and usually, in those cases, the morning doesn't end well.

A straw. You know the ones that come with those large water bottles? Well, one of the plans in my head over the past several days was to put the straw back. The straw had been lost and I found it a few days prior. I was going to the gym and wanted a fully functioning water bottle. It’s a trivial, ridiculous thing, but it had been on my mind, and I wanted to check it off the list. I've found that I either consciously or unconsciously keep a list of things that I want to accomplish, which drives a lot of my anxiety when I can't complete a task. My daughter has been seen with the straw, and I’ve continuously reclaimed it and reminded her that it belongs to me. For some reason, the straw became attached to respect.

So, this morning, I couldn't find the damn straw.

I looked where I had put it; it wasn't there. I asked my children and they had no idea. I started looking all over the house while reminding my children to get their winter shells on for school (they have to put lots of things on, so it takes a while). I didn't fully trust my daughter’s answer, and I could feel myself getting upset. I could feel a sense of deep frustration—the kind that usually leads to me projecting that negative energy onto my husband or my children. It started in my gut and started climbing upward into my head.

But this time, I noticed it. It was familiar.

I could feel the frustration coming and I observed it before the cup tipped over. This is something I've been experiencing more and more lately: the observation of a feeling, a quiet conversation about why it's there and what it's telling me, and then a decision. As a young mother, this was difficult; I would have this feeling, become overwhelmed, and then explode. But today, I'm 44. My children are growing, and I'm constantly learning more about myself and having discussions with my partner about how we can be better. Not just better parents, but better humans. Self-regulation is the beginning—a starting place—and regulation is complicated in itself. This morning, I have to say, was a watershed moment in my journey toward self-actualization.

I could see it happening all at once: the overstimulation, the frustration, the anger, the perceived disrespect, the want to be alone, the longing for a simple space, the love for my kids, the desire for them to feel safe, and the want to be a haven for myself and my family. All at once, I could observe it all and redirect toward the space that would serve us all well. I took some deep breaths, forgot about the straw, found a smaller one, filled up the bottle, finished getting my kids ready, and just moved forward into my day.

The decision was to retain a safe space—a peaceful place for me and a secure environment for my kids.

I had a similar moment last month where I received some unpleasant information. I could sense myself moving from a solid place into a depressive anger spiral, but it was different then, too. This sense of observation—seeing it in real-time and taking note of the changes—is incredibly reassuring. I’m able to do this, maybe not every time, but I'm getting better. Whether it's my age, years of therapy, discussions with my partner about the importance of a calm home, or discussions with clients about these same struggles, and/or I'm finally listening to my own advice. It’s everything, right?

Is this wisdom?

The personal work we do doesn't always show results immediately. We want it to, but it takes experience and time. It takes practice and the willingness to change and understand what's best for us. It's knowing what road to take after years of taking the same path and hoping for different results. It's growing older with intention and a desire to be better. I feel so incredibly grateful for my age—to see the day-to-day work turn into small accomplishments that produce incredible outcomes.

It's the small things, like not getting angry over a missing straw or bursting from overstimulation, that are huge wins. Change comes in small increments, and it's important to notice when it's happening and be joyful that it's been done! All the small changes, observations, and tweaks to better ourselves culminate in a beautiful tapestry of behavioral history. We change, we grow, and we put that effort out into the world so our children and the people in our lives can see what it takes—and that it's possible.

So, today I celebrate my 44th year with a small victory of maintaining peace. I'm not always going to succeed, but I'm getting better at it! I'm reminded that my children are teachers, and without them, that wisdom would exist in a different realm of understanding. I'm so thankful for their challenges, and I'm proud of my ability to hear them and carry those lessons onward into the world.

Happy Birthday to me!