Bowling

 "It's not enough to be busy; so are the ants. The question is: What are we busy about?" Henry David Thoreau

Tuesday morning Peanut and I got an assortment of teenagers out the door to various jobs and decided to head out to spend the morning together. Just the two of us.

We did some shopping, we enjoyed a leisurely walk in the botanical gardens and we ended our morning at the bowling alley.

Peanut was SUPER excited.

We had not yet made it to use our "free" summer kids bowling passes.

She loved game one. Had a blast.

I suggested we head out after one game. I've bowled with young kids before and like many activities, it's usually good to leave on a high note.

Nope. Peanut wanted to stay for game two.

About half way through game two, Peanut was getting discouraged. Having a hard time throwing the ball now that her arms were tired.

On the 10th frame of the last game, Peanut started hysterically screaming.

Her socks (which she hasn't worn in months) had rubbed against her foot in the ill fitted bowling shoe and rubbed a blister she already had, causing the skin to come off and it to bleed.

She was full on having a meltdown.

I took her sock and shoe off, tended to the area. Reminded her that I knew it hurt and it was hard, but there was no other first aid option we had at the moment.

Much like an object in motion stays in motion, a Peanut in a meltdown continues to scream.

I bowled my last frame, returned our balls and shoes. Thanked the bowling employee for the incredible customer service. Gathered our things, and took Peanut's hand.

We left the bowling alley with her still hyperventilating.

Once we were outside, and no longer infringing upon anyone else's bowling experience, I sat with Peanut and said

"This hurts. You are feeling hurt. And sad because you were having a good time and now you can't think about the fun bowling. You can only think about the pain in your foot. That's okay."

Peanut, myself, and all her BIG feelings just sat in the parking lot until we both could move forward.

As we drove home, I felt like digging out a gold parenting sticker for myself.

Late 20s me would have been embarrassed my child was making a scene in the bowling alley.

She probably would have said something utterly impossible like "Stop crying." She She utterly impossible like "Stop crying."

She probably would have said something utterly impossible like "Stop crying."

She definitely wouldn't have had a kind tone or a loving response because she would have been more focused on HERSELF than letting the child navigate the hard time.

Mid 40s me has learned that sometimes you need to cry.

Life is hard, painful, challenging.

Never in the history of parenting has anyone yelling at a child to stop crying made a child authentically feel better and thus not cry. Not once.

Instead we teach kids that their authentic emotions aren't okay.

It doesn't really matter what "Team T-Rex" from the bowling lane next to us thinks about me, my parenting, or even Peanut.

Mama Warriors, sometimes it can be hard to sit with folks and their big messy feelings. Because for many of us it's different.

We were raised to "stop crying" and not let others know when you are hurt, sad, angry, frustrated. So if we don't know how to feel our own BIG feelings, it can be challenging to support someone who does.

We have so much to gain by becoming people who can sit with others.

Jesus sat with people where they were at.

He met them IN the mess.

In fact, I'd dare to say there were a bunch of people walking around in Jesus' time who never had the benefit of His wisdom because they couldn't let Him see their need.

I encourage you as we finish out these last hot summer weeks, to count to 3 before you respond to your people.

Is your response really what THEY need?

Or are you responding out of your own place of not being able to handle a few looks from the T Rex team or the messy emotions?

Make space for the mess.