Recently bought the chickens a rat-proof feeder because the world's biggest pack of rats has moved in and I've had enough. Training the chickens to use it is going well, if slowly. (It would be a lot faster if I still lived with my chickens, or at least lived closer than 30 minutes away... 😅 I can't be there all the time to work with them.)
Midnight, however, refuses to engage with the thing and instead stands next to it looking cranky while she watches the young'uns eat.
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I've found that, when interacting with others (or myself), it's useful to consider the lessons I'd want to teach a growing child.
If a child makes a mistake, I wouldn't want them to feel shame. I wouldn't yell at them, humiliate them, or in any way indicate to them that their mistake is a reflection of their worth or of who they are as a person.
Instead, I'd want them to associate the process with love and joy. If they say something that hurts someone's feelings, or otherwise ostracizes someone in some way, I'd compassionately explain to them. Ideally, they'd walk away knowing why they said / did it in the first place, how to handle similar situations in the future, and would accept the consequences (e.g. if a friend no longer wanted to hang out with them).
While the consequences may sometimes be painful, I'd do my best to instill in them that mistakes are human and natural, and that the process of learning from these mistakes is an opportunity to improve connections with others and express love.
I have a tendency towards excessive guilt. Memories in which I've said / done something ignorant or hurtful are infused with this guilt and shame- but ideally, I'd feel a sense of love and peace, and perhaps happiness, when looking back on them. Because they were moments of growth, moments I learned how to be more compassionate (even if the actual learning came years later).
So I'll put this out into the void:
When you make a mistake, that is not a reflection of you as a person. It is a moment in time, a moment which was informed by your past experiences. Humans are not static labels, or monsters in an RPG game. We are social creatures who live and learn and react and grow and experience and love. Be gentle with yourself and move forward knowing you're doing so in accordance with your values.
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Choosing to parent differently than you were parented really opens up a lot of emotions and thoughts. It's healing. But it's intense. (Particularly so when you jump straight into parenting a teenager with fairly similar trauma and diagnoses to yours instead of starting from scratch with your own baby.)
They really meant it when they said parenting your child can also be like reparenting yourself.
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Looking forward to the day where I won't have to be alone at home.
We can have a beautiful old house with a garden, a dog and maybe a cat. I can sing lullabies on the glider on the porch while we watch the older kids run amuck in the yard.
When it gets late, we can all retire into the living room and watch some show and play family games. Before it gets too late, we can say a family rosary before tucking the kids in bed and sharing bedtime stories. The rest of the evening can be ours and enjoy the quiet and peace of the night.
I just can't wait until our dreams are reality.
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Trying new recipes as a picky eater is always like playing Russian roulette. I just spent fifteen minutes blowing on my dish unable to figure out why it was still burning my mouth before I remembered that I put cayenne pepper in it.
It didn't even call for cayenne pepper, I just thought it might make it interesting. (It did not.)
Anyway here's my first attempt at shakshuka which I grievously overcooked (I had never poached an egg before and had no idea what a poached egg was supposed to look like so I kept cooking it until I was Sure It Was Done—know better now and will do better next time)
In spite of lacking presentation, it actually is pretty good and I will be cooking it again, making it better next time and NOT overcooking it to the point of dehydration.
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