I’ve been thinking about something lately and reading Deb’s post this afternoon inspired me to type it out just to get it firmly implanted in my head.

I don’t lose my temper often, but when I’m tired or hungry or busy I tend to get a little quite cranky. I try hard not to let my children (or any children) see this side of me and for the most part I’m successful. For some reason, I think most of us succeed more at things like this in public. My students at school have rarely if ever seen my cranky side. But why on earth would it be okay for my own children who rely on my husband and me for their every need to see this side?

I’m a very patient person but the times that I have gotten frustrated with my son and pulled or pushed him (a little too roughly, in my opinion) away from something (like the fireplace or computer) he has gotten a deflated look on his face that I can’t forget. It lasts only a few seconds and I always hug him after and explain as best I can to an under 2 year old why he can’t touch it and then we’re both back to our usual happy selves but I always wish it had never been happened at all. Usually it’s something I could have prevented easily. Maybe by getting off the phone or putting my computer away when he’s awake. I can’t move the fireplace, though. It’s when he’s hungry or tired himself that he gets himself into the most trouble. (Hmmmm, sound familiar?) But I’m the adult so I’m the one that needs to do the right thing for him. Easier said than done sometimes.

Not to be a Debbie Downer, but any of us could drop dead at any second and if I did I’d hate for my children’s final memory of me to be of impatience or of anything but love. When I’m well rested and fed I find it much easier to be conscious of parenting with love. I’m patient and try to use all of the teachable moments I can find to give lessons with love. I discipline with love.

I’d never hit my kids but a raised voice or a rough pull away from an “eyes only” item is probably just as bad.

Each time I praise my children, laugh with my children, have fun with my children or even peacefully co-exist with my children I am making deposits into their bank of self worth. Each time I am not the best mom I can be I am making a withdrawal, and the very thought of withdrawing from a child’s self-worth brings tears to my eyes. It’s not good enough for me that they simply have a positive balance in their account. That’s the bare minimum and I’m not a bare minimum kind of person. My goal is to make every interaction a deposit, even if it involves discipline.

That’s one of the things I remember about my mom from my growing up years (she’s still setting those examples as a grandma and her own mother was the same) and I will continue the cycle of love and positive parenting to the best of my ability. It’s a lofty goal, but I think I can do it.

I run into the liquor store to pick up a case of Big Rock for the BG. I had just run to the grocery store for a few things and only had my debit card stuffed in my bra strap. No picture ID.

When I get up to the till with the beer in my arms and hilarity ensues with the buff early 20’s dude behind the counter

Me: I only have my debit card because I left my wallet at home. Is that okay?

Ballsy smart ass: Lady, you drove up in a minivan. Give me a break.

Me: You’re lucky there are security cameras in here, smart ass.
(With a smile so he wouldn’t push the red button under the counter.)

Kids these days. Hrmph.

So, Beth can’t moo. While I feel terribly for her, it’s not such a big deal because ‘moo’ is not only a sound, it’s also a word. She can get by with simply saying “moo” or “moo moo” when discussing cows (or playing cow?).

The commenters, however, were rather concerned with their inability to make elephant sounds. This is where my parenting expertise lies. (Sad, I know. World’s leading parenting expert in the developmental area of elephant sounds. How’s that for a title?)

I give workshops to parents, teachers, childcare providers etc and one of the workshops I’ve developed is yoga for kids aged 3-8, with a much cooler title of course. One of the poses I teach is called ‘elephant’ and the accompanying noise is crucial in it’s execution.

If you’re lucky, you may be the recipients of many upcoming parenting lessons. We’ll see. Or maybe I’ll forget I even said that, which is what usually happens.

1. Hide your lips. Tuck your lips between your teeth and pull them inward so you can’t see any pink, or much pink, depending on the size of your lips. (Don’t squeeze too hard - those teeth are sharp.)

2. Expel air through your lips without allowing them to pop out. Play around with the pressure - both the air pressure and the pressure on your lips. Everyone needs a little bit of a different set up to get the noise just right for them.

3. Turn your head. Or get a cloth. You will probably spit on your monitor.

4. When I teach this to kids, I teach them with their heads facing the floor - the same direction their drunks are hanging, so it just makes sense. It also prevents them from spitting all over me.

5. If you’re up to the challenge, fold your body in half at the hips so that your arms are hanging toward the floor. Interlink your fingers to make a trunk. Tuck your face between your upper arms (or just leave it facing your trunk). Swing your trunk a la an elephant and let the noises fly!

6. Since you’ll be folded in half at this point and placing pressure on your abdomen, watch out for the other noises that may fly. But I guess elephants make those too.

Fill in the blank:

Cows moo.
Ducks quack.
Dogs bark.
Cats meow.
Elephants _________________.