Bedtime Stories

My favorite part of the day is story time with my son. Sure, I love me some Gerald and Piggie and Miss Bindergarten as much as the next mama bear, but really, it's not about the stories. It's about he and I reconnecting after a day apart or after a major meltdown (mine or his). It's about having created a shared space where we can just be. I know this to be true through the steady, deep breaths he takes as his typically sensory overloaded body starts to relax. Or when he gets frustrated with me when I re-read the same part, when he laughs hysterically at my silly voices or when he shares his worries and troubles from the day. These tiny, seemingly insignificant moments are actually little gifts, the love notes of a four year old to his confidante that can only be hand delivered during the calmest, safest time of day, when he knows they will be seen and recognized for what they are.

You see, the safety of story time gives my son the opportunity to be vulnerable and it gives me the opportunity to truly be with him. Being with is more than just sharing physical space. Being with someone is holding space unconditionally for who they are and what their internal experience is at any given moment. It's being with my son and his feelings-not invalidating them, not minimizing them-just accepting them for what they are, visitors that come and go, and allowing him to feel all the feels with good company. And the thing is, this is where I shine as a mom. I'm good at being with him. I am not afraid of his strong and at times, inhumanly strong, feelings.  I welcome all of him, the light, the dark, and the in between.  Offering your child the gift of being with is whole hearted and brave. It requires the ability to give of yourself without the expectation of receiving anything in return. Except if we listen hard enough, to our little loves and ourselves, we see that we do get something in return.

As for what I've received, I've been gifted the nightly opportunity to nurture, to parent, to mother, in alignment with what I know children need. What I know my son needs. And as most of us mamas know, this in itself is often an act of  bravery and in a way, vulnerability. So much of my parenting experience has been tarred and feathered with judgement. All of it self-inflicted, by either listening to my inner critic or perceived judgement from others. I've allowed so much of my time as a mother to be impacted by the wonderings of others or the "helpful" suggestions of well meaning folks who have already been there, done that and think I should give him a spanking or be tougher, firmer...really anything other than how I would handle a situation.  In all honesty, I still hear my monkey mind railing against me at times, questioning my every mama move or judging every mama mistake. And folks, while well meaning, are always going to have opinions regarding parenting. But while every feeling my son experiences is welcome into the sanctity of our bedtime routine, my fear of not being good enough and the opinions of others are not.

Come 7pm, I am able to put down that heavy load and get on with the business of snuggles and stories. I am able to parent from that place inside me that my son needs me to parent from. That grounded, centered, compassionate, brave and vulnerable place that allows me to truly be with him and his feelings. Come 7pm, I am good enough. And like the stars on a clear night, I shine.