Obsidian Mama Blog

Resources and thoughts on parenting with respect. I aim for a high-autonomy, high-accountability parenting style that teaches healthy emotional regulation and problem-solving skills. 23, they/them

[obsidianmama]

Welcome to the Obsidian Mama Blog, my parenting sideblog! My main blog is @obsidiannebula, I follow from there. I am a parent and early childhood educator. I have a preschooler and a lot of thoughts and resources to share about parenting and how children deserve to be treated and how we can raise good humans without resorting to violence and intimidation (how do you teach that violence is wrong by using violence anyway?). I also want to share knowledge and experience I've gained as a neurodivergent (AuDHD specifically, with a healthy dose of anxiety that may in fact be OCD) parent, and to a lesser extent currently as a queer parent. I know Tumblr is a bit of a weird place for this, but I know there are some people who have children or are caregivers of children who can benefit from the same resources that have saved my sanity and made me a better parent. Also I want a dedicated space for dumping all of these thoughts rather than letting it take over my main blog. You know how it is.

I make plenty of mistakes, and will be open about the struggle of having to re-parent yourself while a screaming toddler is hanging off of your pants. This is not going to be full of pictures of Pinterest-able bento box lunches for toddlers or present an image of a serene parent who is perfectly calm and sensible in all situations and who always knows exactly what to say to get a child to cooperate. We're really messy over here. The apartment needs swept and I raised my voice a few hours ago because L grabbed a Coke can that I had left too close to the edge of my desk and spilled some down the front of herself. Ok? I'm not perfect and I won't pretend to be.

Your own additions and insights are welcome, but keep them in good faith.

Recommended Resources: Resource Masterlist

[obsidianmama]

We were excited to have eggs for breakfast this morning, until I remembered the recall. L was a little disappointed, but when I explained the outbreak she was really understanding. "Let's just have cereal instead," she said.

As I poured the cereal, I explained a little bit about how a recall works, and I told her about some we've had recently. Then I told her about the FDA and how some people in our government are getting rid of the rules that help to keep food safe to eat. She was horrified.

We kept talking as we ate breakfast. We talked about what laws can govern and who gets to make them (the fairness or otherwise of this setup will be a topic for another day) and how once she turns 18 and becomes an adult, she will get to vote on who gets to make the laws.

"I was actually planning to vote today," I told her. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Can I?" She was overjoyed.

So my little citizen accompanied me to the voting booth today. She learned a lot about civic responsibility, and I learned a lot about what she thinks is important to vote for.

Remember: if you, like my five-year-old, thinks it's important for schools to have money, for food to be safe to eat, and for the planet to be safe and healthy, make a plan to vote!

[obsidianmama]

As we were doing our chores today, one of my coworkers mentioned, "Oh, L told me today, 'Did you know my mom is the best mom ever?'"

Every time she says something like that, my first reaction is to think of all the times I felt like a terrible parent, and also all the times my daughter told me some variation of "I don't like you" because she didn't like what she'd been told. And that sucks. It's good to be aware of your faults, sure. I'm very aware of the places where I can improve, of the many times I've been curt and irritable with my girl even when she's not doing anything wrong.

But when I hear her say, "You're the kindest mommy in the world," my takeaway shouldn't be, I'm not though. I'm not as good as you think I am. You deserve better. It should be, Even though I make mistakes, I make you feel so loved that you can give me this love in return.

I will never be perfect, but as long as I'm good enough, that will be enough

[obsidianmama]

I've made a post previously about handling "I don't love you!" from little kids. Well, let me tell you about the evolution of specific tactics I've been using with my 4 year old.

Because at first I always just reminded her that I will love her forever, no matter what. This was a good approach! It helped her feel more safe and secure, allowing her to regulate more quickly, and it's also something I now hear her say often: "Mommy, I'm going to love you forever and always, no matter what."

But those words kept cropping up when she was mad, and I can only counter with "well I love you no matter what" so many times in one conversation, y'know? So I started saying, "I hear that you're so mad right now. I don't talk to people who are talking to me that way. I'm going to take a break and we can talk about it when you're ready to try again." I feel like that's a reasonable boundary to set. But taking a break from her actually isn't all that easy in our living situation.

So in the past week I've started doing something that, idk if it's the best solution, since the original attention was to pretend I just can't hear her when she says "I don't love you" type things. But how it has actually worked out in practice is incredibly simple and effective and seems to actually help her return to calm.

Whenever she hits me with that "I don't like you!" I just stop and say, "Hm. Did you hear that?"

She stops and listens and then says, "No?"

Then I say, "Hm. Must have been the wind." And she laughs and we both move on with our day.

[kahuna-burger]

Just putting some thoughts down without reblogging from any specific post of the thread that inspired it...

When I became a mother, I knew that I didn't agree with the idea that parents own their children and have complete rights over them as such. But at the same time, I didn't think my son owned himself, because he was not mentally or emotionally competent to be autonomous and wouldn't be for some time.

What I decided, and continue to believe is that children are "owned" by their future adult selves and that as a parent I was in a position of stewardship over my son, on behalf of that future adult. (The term trustee would also work to some extent.) I had the power to make decisions for him, and even overruled his wishes on many (emotionally exhausting) occasions, but that power came from a place of responsibility, not privilege. And those decisions had to be made based on his interests as a future independent adult.

[obsidianmama]

Felt very proud of my four year old, myself, and her teachers this morning as she praised a maraca I painted last night.

"You made a white flower on the top," she observed.

"Yeah," I said, having indeed been inspired by coworkers' flowers when I added the five white dots on the top of my maraca.

"Why did you add this?" she asked, pointing to the black circle.

"Thought it would look nice."

"And look at these green dots all over!"

"I changed the sizes because I thought it would look better if they weren't all the same," I explained.

It was just so sweet, and also I could hear the way both I and her teachers at our school do praise. We don't say "good job-" I mean, it happens sometimes out of habit, and that's fine, but in general we try to be more descriptive and ultimately supportive when we praise.

If you look at how L praised my work, you can see that she made a guess about what I had made, an observation about something I had done, and asked me an open-ended question. These things both invited me to think more deeply about the work and showed that she was genuinely paying attention to it, where "good job" is something that can easily be said without even glancing at the piece. It also builds more intrinsic motivation than a simple "good job" because of that invitation to think more about the work created.

It just made me very happy, both because we've taught her well, and because she genuinely paid attention to the work I did, which made me feel good about it. I made that thing two or three margaritas deep at a party with people far more artistically skilled than me, and I was kind of just taking inspiration from stuff they'd already done while trying not to just copy them. She honed in on a few little details and made me feel like each choice mattered. It was nice.

[a-little-revolution]

I stumbled upon @thequeermama's post on Instagram "Answers I've given my kids recently, as a parent who never says 'I'll tell you when you're older" and thought her response to her child seeing a little person was excellent!

"Yes, that person was an adult, and they're your height - some people are born like that, it would be boring if we all looked the same"

As a little person in public, I've had countless interactions with children and their parents in response to my disability. Some parents ask if their children can come up and meet me, others yank them away to avoid an embarrassing interaction. Regardless of your level of knowledge on dwarfism, I believe it is every parent's job to teach their children to be respectful in public; to know that people come in all shapes and sizes, and that every human being is deserving of kindness and respect.

If your child is old enough to mock and belittle someone, they are old enough to be taught to know better.

As a parent, it is up to you to lead by example - take every opportunity to show your children how to treat others with kindness. This means unlearning your own ableism!

Everything is a teachable moment - if your child is making a scene, I like to see that you the parent do not accept the behaviour. Stop everything and talk to your child!! Deescalate!!

Depending on the little person (and the circumstance) they may be willing to educate your child in the moment, but open with a "could my child ask you some questions?" or "may I ask you about your disability?" and respect their response.

I understand the panic that can come with your child's negative response, but please understand that yanking away your child can make disability feel taboo and can even make them fearful of me.

Please prepare your children for seeing and interacting with all sorts of people - these days here are plenty of children's media on diversity!

[obsidianmama]

Benefit of allowing L to help with chores as a toddler even though she slowed me down: just now she stepped in dirt on the kitchen floor and instead of ignoring the mess or freaking out about her foot being dirty, she wiped off her foot, grabbed her child-sized broom, and swept up the mess and threw it in the garbage

[obsidianmama]

There are a lot of things that are deeply humbling and awe-inspiring about becoming a parent. One of the most world-shaking for me was holding my baby daughter in my arms, being overwhelmed how deeply, powerfully, life-alteringly I loved her. And then I was struck by the realization that my mother loves me this much. She has always loved me this much. And as my love for my daughter grows with her, so has my mother's love for me grown as I do.

I can barely fathom loving my daughter as much as I do. Imagining myself being loved that much is... incomprehensible to me still.

I am very lucky to have always had the unconditional love of my parents. Sometimes, thinking about how much I love my daughter reminds me to show my parents how much I love them, too. I don't hug them enough, I think.

[obsidianmama]

"I Don't Love You Anymore!"

Preschoolers typically have expanded vocabularies and greater social awareness than they did as toddlers. They understand concepts like love and friendship and can communicate those ideas. They can also name their feelings and verbally express displeasure through words. The problem is, they can't always identify the CAUSE of an emotion, and sometimes the words they choose hurt.

There are few words more devastating to hear from a child you love than "I don't love you anymore" or "I hate you!" If you think they might actually mean it, that is. The thing about these outbursts from young children is that they are not accurate reflections of a child's overall feelings towards you, but rather an expression of how angry they feel in the moment.

Tonight, I was standing with two of my coworkers and chatting after we clocked out of our closing shift. We'd been carrying on for a while, and at first L was contentedly sitting and snacking. But a few minutes after she had thrown away her trash, she stomped up to one of her teachers- whom she'd just said "I love you" to for the first time today- and smacked her on the arm.

The teacher frowned and said, "Ow! That hurt me." L just stamped her foot and made a rude face at the teacher. "I thought you loved me," her teacher continued.

"I don't love you anymore!" L shouted.

In my experience, this phrase means, "I am extremely angry, and that anger is directed at you right now." It's a cue to try to figure out the root cause of the behavior.

"L," I said, getting down on her level. "You're really mad at Ms. B right now." I had a brief vision of my own childhood, my brothers and I growing annoyed with my mom whenever we were trying to leave somewhere and she remained in conversation with other adults. "Are you mad that they're talking to me and we're not going home?"

"Yeah," she said, folding her arms across her chest and pouting.

"Ohhh," I said. "That does sound frustrating. Next time, you can just say, 'Mommy, I'm ready to leave now.' Does that sound like a plan?"

"Mommy, I'm ready to leave now," she replied.

She never really stopped loving her teachers. She was frustrated by the situation and did not know how to express that frustration or solve her problem. Now, she has words she can use as well as a solution to that problem that she can use for next time.

I've used this approach with her many times, and I've also used it to help some of her classmates calm down from some major meltdowns ready to problem-solve and cooperate. The keys, in my view, are these:

Don't take it personally. The child is struggling to communicate their real feelings and needs, and they haven't figured out how to separate their current emotions from their overall opinion of someone.

Pause and calm your own body, if you need to. An escalated adult can not de-escalate an escalated child. Take a few deep breaths, picture your happy place, depending on the situation you may even walk away and take a short break.

Get down on the child's level, if possible. When you're very young and small and upset, someone towering over you and trying to correct your behavior is frustrating and intimidating. Getting down to eye level with them reduces that feeling of power imbalance and makes it easier to connect with them, and that connection paves the way for cooperation.

Accept their feelings. "I'm hearing that you're REALLY upset with me right now!" I'm fond of that "I'm hearing" phrasing because it helps them separate what they said from what they really meant.

Identify the real problem. In the above example, my daughter wanted to go home and spend time with me and was feeling frustrated and unimportant. Another time with another child, I found that the problem was that she was hungry and missing her mommy.

Solve the problem (ideally with the child's input) and make a plan for next time. With my daughter tonight, I offered her a respectful way to express herself next time, and my coworkers and I left the building and went home. With the child who was hangry and wanted her mommy to come get her right now, I of course could not solve one of those problems. I accepted her feelings, told her that I miss my mommy too, and we talked a little about things she does with her mommy. Then I offered her some animal crackers to solve the hungry problem. Between food, a hug, and unconditional love, she was right back into a happy, cooperative mood!

The "I don't like you, you're not my best friend anymore, I hate you" stage is a normal part of young children's social-emotional development. With adult guidance, they will learn to identify their real needs and feelings and express them safely and respectfully.

[obsidianmama]

A little thing I love at my job is when little kids are refusing to put their shoes on and go home at the end of the day, cause transitions are hard, yknow? And the parent is getting a little flustered or frusrated cause like, just put your shoes on so we can go! Simple process! Let's get out of here! Why won't you just put your shoes on I don't understand???? (This is not verbalized just the vibe, and also me relating cause I have been there before with my own kid)

And I come over and grab the kid's boot and start making it talk at theatrical length about how cold and lonely it is without the child's foor in it, and without fail (if the child is not too emotionally escalated) the kid starts giggling and moving their foot closer. Bam, suddenly your kid is wearing shoes and ready to go. I feel like a wizard. In reality of course I am a professional clown. Tomfoolery just happens to be the language of toddlers

[obsidianmama]

There's something moving about the moments where I react out of frustration and L gently corrects me the way I would her. Or sternly lol, but if I get stern with her sometimes I think it's fair if she uses that tone to me in the same context, yknow?

I was getting annoyed with her tonight cause it was way past bedtime and she was still goofing around and she wanted to get up and get a stuffy. I ground out through my teeth, "Then go get a stuffy."

She got up and as she walked by she put a hand on my shoulder and firmly told me, "Don't be mean to me. If you're feeling angry, just say 'stop.'"

I was so humbled and proud at the same time. "You're right, honey, I'm sorry," I told her. She went and got a stuffy and before too much longer, she fell asleep. Kid TOTALLY just positive disciplined me. She set a boundary and then told me what I COULD do instead! That was such a mature response! And it is absolutely the kind of thing she is told all the time! That stern tone, dude? That was so me coming out of her mouth and right back at me. My 4 year old 100% just used my own mom voice on me. But she used it appropriately to set a reasonable boundary! You're right my love I do not get to be mean to you just because I'm frustrated! Thank you for reminding me of what the respectful choice is! You are such a wonderful and amazing human being!!!

[obsidianmama]

Every once in a while I have to pause and be grateful for how well my kid sleeps now, because man alive, did she not sleep well for the first like 3 years of her life

[mortalityplays]

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[mortalityplays]

I really do mean this sympathetically. we are not well equipped as a culture to grapple with the implications of power and violence, because we are intimately saturated in it from birth. cruelty feels natural, and that's hard to unlearn.

[mortalityplays]

a bunch of things that I know are going to sound really corny (which honestly I think is half the cultural problem - the idea that non-coercive parenting is touchy-feely, ineffectual or just kind of cringe - but that could be a whole other post)

the main thing was that they always explained things to me. if I wanted something I couldn't have, they explained why (from 'we can't afford that', 'it's bad for you', 'it's dangerous', all the way up to 'it's made by a big company that treats its workers badly, and we don't want to give them money'). If I threw a tantrum, they either waited it out until I got tired and bored or they redirected what we were doing ('we have to be patient and wait in line. if we don't wait in line, we can't go into the theatre. we can't wait in line if you scream and upset people. okay then, we're going home.')

beyond that, they always spoke to me like a full person. they asked my opinion on things and took it seriously, and asked me why as much as I asked them. apparently I had a phase as a toddler where I always wanted to be the first one on the swings / down the slide, and would throw almighty fits about it, until my mum took me aside one day and said 'why do you want to be first? are you worried the slide will get used up?' I laughed like it was the funniest thing I'd ever heard, and never kicked up a fuss about taking turns after that.

on the granular level, they focused on positives over negatives. My mum would draw little good behaviour charts for me, featuring e.g. me walking a long winding path through the woods with my soft toys. the path would be made up of, say, 30 stones, and every day that I was well behaved I'd earn a sticker on one of them. when I reached the end of the path, I got to pick a treat. something like a new plastic animal for my collection, or a day trip to the aquarium.

I do remember them sitting me down once and asking me to come up with what I thought would be an appropriate punishment if I ever did something really bad. I think my first suggestion was something like 'no TV', which was a real nice try because we didn't have a TV at the time. I don't remember what I finally decided on, it might have been 'no dessert for a week'. We wrote it down together and I signed my name, and they sealed it in an important looking envelope which they put in my dad's filing cabinet (for important documents). This would be unsealed if I ever did something Really Bad. the eventuality never came up, but the act of participating in the exercise kept me mostly on the straight and narrow. It's funny, the conceptual punishment itself wasn't even that bad. It was the seriousnes of the adult commitment I'd made to Behaving Well that did the trick.

When I DID do the standard naughty stuff, my parents would just sit me down and explain to me seriously why it was wrong and what impact it had caused for other people. They'd ask what motivated me, and why I acted on those feelings in that specific way. They would, of course, tell me they were disappointed. If necessary, they would tell me how things would have to change as a result of what I'd done. They were always, always open to hearing out my side of the story, and always, always took my feelings seriously even if they disapproved of my behaviour. they would ask if I was ready to say sorry and get a hug. if I wasn't ready, if I was still upset or angry, they would give me space in my room and ask me to come find them when I wanted to make up. and I always did, because I always knew they would accept it.

[obsidianmama]

My almost-4-year-old has been really enjoying ponytails, buns and bows in her hair the past few months. But she also hates having her hair in her face but doesn't like hair clips.

A few days ago, she started asking for her hair cut short like one of her boy classmates. Three year olds can change their minds on a whim, so I just told her we wouldn't have time for a haircut until the weekend and explained to her that if she cut her hair that short, she wouldn't be able to put her hair up anymore. She has persisted every day since. Today she asked my mother, her grandma, to cut her hair close to her head. My mom was visibly reluctant and did not say no, but explained what I did about not being able to put her hair up for a long time. L said, "That's fine." So although my mom was worried that L might be stuck with a haircut she hated for months and although she was devastated to not be able to do L's hair for that long, she got out the hair scissors and did her best to figure out how to give my girl the hair style she wanted.

And she DELIVERED.

And L was OVERJOYED.

This kid couldn't stop talking about her new haircut all day. She showed it off to everyone in the house. It was hard to get a good picture of it because she wouldn't stop bouncing and dancing and shaking her head with excitement. Her joy was certainly infectious. And she's cute as all get-out with the short hair and cheekbone-length bangs.

It's important to me that she be able to express herself and have autonomy over her body, so long of course as it's reasonably safe and healthy. We might encounter adults who judge me for letting her cut her hair "like a boy" at her age, but it's her head and it makes her happy, so they can suck my big toe about it.

My inner child is feeling a certain warmth and peace about it, too. Right now, L confidently and enthusiastically identifies as a girl. She knows I'm not a boy or a girl, but so far girl is working for her. I never really was one, but the idea of cutting my hair off, even when it ticked me off or made looking in the mirror open up a void of emptiness inside my chest, didn't even feel like a conceivable option until I was already an adult. She is not yet four and she knows she can do whatever she wants with her hair and clothes and her body. Watching her revel in her short hair brought me back to the way I felt the first time I got it shaved. I'm just... so incredibly happy that she doesn't have to wait as long as I did to feel that joy.

I'm just so happy for her.

[obsidianmama]

You would die for your kid, sure. But do you live for them? Do you spend time talking to them that isn't giving instructions or correcting behavior? Do you tell them you love them frequently, so they never have to wonder? Do you do the research and the self-reparenting and the asking for support, do you take care of yourself so that you can be the best parent you can be for them? Do you swallow your pride and admit when you're wrong and try to do better next time? Do you make time to just be present with them, learning what they're like and what they love?

Do you live for them?

[obsidianmama]

Never underestimate the joy you can bring to a room full of toddlers by bringing them a cardboard box