Are you Acting like a Barnacle?

A recent trip to California's central coast got me wondering--How is my thinking like a barnacle?

Barnacles are fascinating.

When I first moved to Seattle, I trained as a volunteer beach naturalist with the Seattle Aquarium and was surprised when an enthusiastic marine biologist threw herself on the floor, raised her legs up high and twirled them.

"This is a barnacle eating!" she exclaimed.

You see, as adults, their heads are stuck to the surface of the rock or boat or whale they live on and their little legs fish for plankton.

She explained that barnacles start off as tiny swimming plankton, then they start to explore surfaces for possible future homes, then they commit. Once committed, the barnacle is stuck for life. Literally. No more moving. If they don't like their neighbors, too bad. If someone moves their rock and they don't get sea water anymore, too bad.

That is permanence.

Sometimes I get so committed to an answer or thought that I become like a barnacle.

I think "I'm stuck here, I've got no options, I wish this situation were different..." I can't see a solution because I'm so stuck in the yuck of what I don't like.  

What helps is to remember I'm no barnacle!

Recognizing I've always got choices is so empowering: I can stay or leave, react with anger or love, teach my kids gently or shout... Although I can't control situations, I can control my reaction. And I love that I'm not stuck being a barnacle.

Do you ever feel stuck like a barnacle?

I get it. And I'd love to explore ways to unstick you. You've got options. Let's explore them!

"Say you're SORRY!"

How many times have you overheard a parent snarl this?

The tone is angry, the underlying message is "Say you're sorry or ELSE" and it's really not about the child expressing regret anymore. It's about the parent feeling out of control or embarrassed or angry about the situation.

Even if she says sorry, is she, in that moment? I'm guessing not. I'd be scared if my parent was mad at me.

What ARE we teaching when we force an apology? To ignore feelings, to lie about reality (everybody knows the kid isn’t sorry!), to decide someone else knows more than our kids about their emotions.

Ouch. That’s not what I want to teach.

But what else can we do? How do kids develop empathy without forcing the "I'm sorry?"

Here’s an idea.

Try this--once they're calmed down, ask both kids how they're feeling and what would make them feel better about what just happened.

With my kids, sometimes that means a promise to not hurt each other or a silly high five or a video of their goofy faces together or drawing a comic together or even a traditional apology.

I'm generally amazed at the ideas they have for what will repair their relationships.

The kids get to practice checking in with each other and deciding what would feel good. They're negotiating, trading ideas, solving their own problems using their words and skills.