Listening and Motherhood

This morning as I walked Claire and Paul to school, Claire didn't take a breath. She was excited about the end of the school year and her stuffed penguin, which she was smuggling to school today to play with on the playground. This penguin, she said, would eat berries off the bushes at school because no fish were available.
"You know I'm part penguin," she said.
I raised my eyebrows. "Oh really?"
"Yes, I love fish like penguins, so I've got a little bit of penguin in me."
"Hmm."
Years ago, when I was a teacher, I learned about a teaching technique called "think aloud." To help a student develop their own thought processes, the teacher is supposed to speak aloud her own processes. When editing a paper, a teacher might say out loud, "This word looks different. I think I need to consult a dictionary to verify spelling on this word."  Or, "When my friend is mean to me, I feel upset. I think I will go play with another friend." This helps students with problem solving and connecting dots in their brain.
Knowing about that, I have consciously done that around my children since they were infants. I say, "I can't find a clean pair of socks. That must mean that I need to either fold the laundry or wash more. I think I'll fold this clean laundry because it's faster than washing and drying and folding a dirty load."
The results of sharing my thought processes is that Claire has become a verbal processor. She is never short on words. The hardest part of my day is 3:00 to 3:30 p.m. when both children are over-flowing with details of their day. Claire's class always arrives outside first, so she gets a head start on sharing every part of her day. Poor Paul has just started talking over her or interrupting to share what he needs to share. I think he's more of an internal processor, but it's hard to tell when he has to fight for space to speak.
I am grateful that my children find me a safe haven to share all the important and unimportant parts of their life. I try to remind myself that I am building a foundation of a relationship.  Today they talk to me about penguins and I try to listen hard and pay attention for when the real life problems arise. If I don't spend time investing in conversations about stuffed penguins, I'm afraid they won't turn to me to share stories about bullies or friends that make poor choices.
It's hard though. As an internal processor and someone who has a dialogue going on in her brain 100% of the time, I sometimes resent these interruptions into my thoughts and brainstorming. Listening all the time begins to make me weary.
To date, my hardest parenting struggles have been potty training and training myself to listen even when I have other things on my mind. Potty training, thank goodness, is far behind us, but the listening is every day.
Summer is on its way; only four more days of school. In the summer the kids will be with me almost all of the time. That means many opportunities to listen to conversations about stuffed animals and what they eat.
I am prepared to listen. I also recognize that the kids and I do get tired of our exclusive audiences with one another, so I am preparing on finding a time once a week for the kids and I to have some space apart. Lunch with a friend or coffee by myself gives me room to be a better listener later.

Worth a Read

Here's an article I came across that is worth a read.  It was written by Kare Anderson of the Harvard Business Review blog.  I am always trying to figure out how to be a better listener.

If you don't have time to read the whole article, read this at least:

"To learn about your own attention patterns, examine someone else's. Most motivational speakers, self-help writers, therapists and pharmacologists encourage us to focus on "me." They suggest that we look inward to understand and improve ourselves for a happier, better life. That's not wrong; it is just incomplete. Instead of just asking, "What most preoccupies me? Does it make the world seem welcoming or withholding?" reach out to someone else. Be the best listener they've had in months. This is the first and most basic ingredient in any interaction. Simply gazing steadily and warmly at that person, nodding at times and reiterating what you heard will activate an empathic, mirror-neuron response in both of you.
Giving and receiving undivided attention, even briefly, is the least that one individual can do for another — and sometimes the most. And yet, attending to others doesn't just help them — it helps us, by evoking responses that help the listener feel cared for, useful, and connected to the larger world. Paying attention may be an individual effort, but it's also a kind of social cement that holds groups together and helps them feel part of something greater than themselves. It's not always easy, but you can improve with practice — and find yourself becoming more flexible, more open to new ideas, and better able to resonate with others. Inevitably that leads to a richer, more meaningful life."

Must focus my attention today.