Tag Archives: Kirsten Nottleson

My Children’s Limbic Radar Picking Up My Extra Attention

I recently attended the Hand in Hand Weekend Retreat and wanted to report on what happened upon my return home. 
The retreat was wonderful. I was surrounded by beautiful redwoods, had fabulous meals prepared for me, and got a much needed break from full time mommyhood.

I got to spend time with other parents who are using the Parenting by Connection approach, got lots of listening time, unloaded a lot of built up tension, and spent a lot of time focusing on the goals I have for myself and my family. In short, my emotional bank account got filled up and I came home in great shape.

And my kids could tell.

I came home after bedtime on Sunday night. In my mind I planned to spend a good part of Monday hanging out and playing with my two children.

I had checked in with my husband the night before and knew that they had had a good weekend. I have found that when I have abundant extra attention my kids know it. And their emotional systems know how to make good use of it. It’s like all these little nagging hurts that are lodged in there get a chance to bubble to the surface saying, ‘Hey, over here! Look at me! I need some help over here. I’ve been waiting for someone to show up.’ So first thing in the morning… here comes ‘their stuff’ but only more amped up because I have all this good extra attention floating around. They could probably smell it the minute they woke up.

The younger one woke up, snuggled me for a few minutes, then immediately started whining about being awake. The older one came in and after just about 10 minutes of chatting started finding reasons to hit his brother. The younger one didn’t want to eat, etc. Your garden variety of ‘nothing is quite right’. And the older one continued to find ways to initiate conflict with his brother.
The great thing was that I was completely prepared and able to welcome this with an open heart and clear mind, because I had been listened to so well in partnerships over the weekend.

I started with some playlistening, climbing back in bed and pulling the blanket over our heads, begging not to have to get up. Then I begged them not to get up as they laughed and tried to squirm away from me. After 20 minutes or so of that game and lots of laughing, the older one started back on hitting and teasing of his brother and I was able to set some firm, yet playful, and connected limits. This led to some staylistening, as he cried and sweated and told me what a rotten brother he had. Just as he was beginning to wind down, the younger one started to do some of his own “Notice me! Notice me!” behavior, very disconnected, wild in nature, and I was able to playfully get him to reconnect.

After that they seemed like they were in pretty good shape, so I left the room to get breakfast started. They began to wrestle, which quickly became too rough from the sound of things, so I headed back in. I grabbed some pillows and began to get in on the ‘fight’. They both said, “No mom, you’re not rough enough!” I could see that they really wanted to exert themselves, but were still not connected enough to know the limit, so that the younger one wouldn’t get hurt.

So I said, “Oh you think I’m not rough enough, huh? How ‘bout this!” And made a HUGE swing at the older one with a pillow and completely missed, falling flat on my face on the bed. They then pounced on me and we had a great vigorous pillow fight with them ganging up on me and me being the buffoon. I was able to let them go at me really hard without getting upset. They were able to get lots of energy out, and lots of laughter and connection. And lots of brotherly teamwork.

We laughed and laughed for over an hour. And they played really well together for the rest of the day and several days afterwards.
Because my bucket was so full, I was able to be really present and relaxed with them. What a difference it makes! I could come up with fresh ideas, I had patience, I had play stamina. We all benefited, not just them. It really is true; the oxygen mask works best when applied to the caregiver first.

Kirsten Nottleson-Join Certified Instructor Kirsten Nottleson in her Building Emotional Understanding course. Starts March 27. Register now.

No More Struggles In Getting Ready For School

I had been having trouble getting my 7-year-old to get ready for school in the morning. It often ended with yelling or rushing chaotically out the door. It seemed like no matter how early we woke up he still dragged through the morning and we would still be late to school. We ended up mad at each other and he ended up with a rotten start to a day that he wasn’t much looking forward to in the first place.

I started hearing “I hate school,” and “I’m not going!” more frequently. I knew I had to do something differently. I read in the Parenting by Connection Newsletter about having 5 minutes of Special Time with a child when he first wakes up to help him reconnect.

I was really bent on him getting dressed, fed, teeth brushed, shoes on, etc. before we played. But since it wasn’t working anyway I thought I may as well try it. I let him know right before bed each night that we would do five minutes as soon as he woke up. He was so excited. He started hopping out of bed and it made a huge difference in how much happier we both were before school. Much of the time we were still late but at least we weren’t fighting. What an improvement that was!

We did that for a few weeks and he was really wanting to play longer. I told him that he could play as much as he wanted as long as he was ready for school first. So we decided to switch back to getting everything done first. Now we snuggle in bed for a few minutes then he hops up and gets ready and we often have 10 to 25 minutes to run around outside and get some good exercise.

I think the 5-minute Special Time helped him to make the transition. We usually play jump rope, and sometimes his neighbor friend even comes over to play tag with us for a few minutes. He is more energized when he goes off to school. He is complaining less about school. Morning time is pleasant now. I think we both actually look forward to it. He talks about school stuff while he’s jumping rope that he wouldn’t usually tell me.

I think it’s really true that for boys, physical engagement helps them open up. I also feel better that, as he goes off to school to sit for 7 hours with only ½ hour recess time, he at least got that little stretch of time getting his body moving first thing in the morning. And when mama’s less worried, everyone’s life is better around here!

Kirsten Nottleson-Join Certified Instructor Kirsten Nottleson in her Building Emotional Understanding course. Starts March 27. Register now.

Setting Limits with Love and Connection

Courtesy of morningt.blogspot.com

My 18 month old was playing with chalk on the driveway, and discovered that it would fit into the grill of the car. I walked over to him, squatted down next to him, and said, “We can’t put that in there. It’s not good for the car.” He tried several times, so I had to block his hand. I kept smiling at him and repeated, “Sorry, I can’t let you do that, though I know you want to.” He got more and more frustrated, eventually throwing the chalk and ‘running’ away out  the driveway and down the sidewalk.

As he toddled down the sidewalk, I kept close behind him without quite catching up. Occasionally he would slow down enough to look over his shoulder to make sure I was with him. I’d say, “Yes, I’m still here. I love you. You can be as mad as you need to be and I’m going to stay with you.” Then he’d keep on ‘running’. I have to admit it was hard not to chuckle at how sweet he was, with his little arms pumping away trying to get as far away from me as he could.

I tried to get him just enough space to feel powerful, while still being connected. We went all the way around the corner this way. Him checking me (do you still love me?), me reassuring him (yep, I’m still here), him running more. After about 10 minutes of this he turned around with BIG open arms and a huge smile waiting for a hug. We hugged, then he held up his hand for me to hold and we walked back to the house for more play.

Kirsten Nottleson-Join Certified Instructor Kirsten Nottleson in her Building Emotional Understanding course. Starts May 8. Learn more.

Support for Teenagers

I was asked recently about how to support a teen boy who is “possibly depressed, pretty shut down, and often won’t get out of bed for school or other essential activities”. My son hasn’t had trouble with getting out of bed so I can’t speak to that, but I do know that the idea of meeting a child where they are, is SO key to building that bridge that allows them to feel safe enough to walk across it (or to move some of the emotional junk that has kept them from being able to walk across it).

My thought was about teen boys in general and how just BEING WITH them is so important. Being still, quiet, not saying much, just being a presence is essential. Slowing it all down, having no agenda.

Lately I have been doing a lot of just going in my son’s (12yo) room, after knocking lightly on the door. I really don’t say anything but “hey”, and then make it obvious by my actions that I haven’t a care in the world but to be closer to him. I don’t try to make eye contact or ask him what he’s doing. I’m just sort of content to have been let in the room. Sit on the bed, lean  my back against the wall.

And then I wait.

He’ll keep reading or drawing , or whatever he’s doing, mostly acting as if I’m not really there. I think his limbic system is all the while checking me out, just like it did when he would spend EVERY SPECIAL TIME FOR MONTHS smashing tonka trucks together when we first started doing Special Time ten years ago. Like, “are you REALLY going to hang with me? Or are you going to bail when you get bored.?”

And after about 10 minutes he starts talking. About school and friends and funny things he saw on the internet. Or he shows me what he’s drawing and I make sure to pay relaxed, but interested attention. Or he’ll start shooting hoops on the basketball hoop on the back of his door, and hand me the ball to shoot a time or two. Or nothing in particular will happen at all.

Here’s the cool thing. What I notice afterwards, and later that day, is that he is more relaxed, kinder to his younger brother, better eye contact, more interested in things in general,… just as if he had a huge cry. It is amazing to me.

So my thought for this family (and other families of teens).. when your son is stuck in bed, pretending to sleep, either climb in bed with him, not saying much at all, having all the time in the world, no expectation of anything being said or done,… Or just lay down on the floor next to the bed. As parents of preteens, we often have a good deal of urgency, fear, and worry about our young ones, if they are anything but bright and cheery. We get worried about the teen years looming just around the corner (or that are already there), and all that they will be having to navigate. So the being still and meeting them exactly where they are a good place to start . It’s not the complete answer, but a solid beginning of establishing trust, so that they know we are in their court when they need to unload some of the bigger stuff that gets in the way of their full and contented lives.
Kirsten Nottleson

-Join Certified Instructor Kirsten Nottleson in her Building Emotional Understanding course. Starts March 27. Register now.

Listening Makes All The Difference In The World

I heard a very touching story in one of my classes recently. We were talking about the value of listening to our children’s strong emotions, and I asked if anyone had been listened to in that way as a young child. One woman raised her hand and said, “Yes. One time.” She had been raised by her single mother who was a school teacher. She was the oldest of three and very involved in taking care of her younger siblings and making sure everything went well. They struggled a lot and were often short of money.

At one point she said she was having a particularly hard time so her mother sent the younger siblings over to a neighbor’s house, then took her out to the garage and said, “Okay, let me hear it.” Her mom just listened while she got to yell and cry and scream about how hard it was and that it wasn’t fair. She had never gotten to really let it all out like that. She knew that her mom really wanted to hear it, since she had sent the younger ones next door so that she could have time just with her. She told her, “I know this sucks, sweetie. I wish it were different.” She didn’t try to make her feel any different or tell her it wasn’t so bad. She just listened.

The woman said it made all the difference in the world to her. It seemed as if she could carry on. Just because she knew her mom was on her side that way.

What I think is interesting is that even though she didn’t get listened to many times in that way, she still really understood how important it is for her to listen to her children when they are struggling. That one experience really made a difference for her. It’s such a good reminder to me when I think of all the times when I’ve felt badly because I just didn’t have it in me to give my children the attention I would have liked to, or just couldn’t listen.

Kirsten Nottleson-Join Certified Instructor Kirsten Nottleson in her Building Emotional Understanding course. Starts March 27. Register now.

Helping My Son With Lying

I had given my son $20 to go with friend to a water park for the day. When he came home he gave me $10 saying he’d used the rest for food. A few days later the friend’s mother called to ask about something and mentioned that she had sent all the money back with him. I told my son that I knew he hadn’t spent the money on food and did he keep it? He sheepishly nodded yes.

I didn’t want him to feel badly about himself but I did want him to be accountable. Right away I felt like I was floundering around, not knowing how to handle this properly. In my upbringing, shame and guilt would have been used to solve this issue. There would not have been any possible way to walk out of the situation with any sense of dignity. Both my husband and I worked together on this one. We sat down with our son on the couch as we talked to him about how important it is to be honest and that we wanted to be able to trust him. That we love him no matter what and that giving the money back would help clear out that yucky feeling inside. He went and got his wallet, gave us $10 and then ran to his room crying.

This is where I often struggle. I think, “Maybe he needs time by himself right now. Am I smothering him? Invading his space?” It goes on like that in my mind. I had to trust my gut, which told me, “I wouldn’t want to be alone if I felt that bad. I would want someone to follow me and let me know I was loved.”

I checked in with my husband, and we agreed that this was a good opportunity for him to get out a lot of stored up feelings he’d had about taking the money, and that we didn’t want him to have to keep carrying those around. The super good news about this is that in the past my husband has had a hard time when our son is having big feelings, especially when he can see that me being close to him makes the feelings come out stronger. In the past he has leaned on the side of “Leave him alone if he’s walking away. Don’t upset him even more.”

We followed him to his room, knocked, and asked if we could come in. “No!” “Well, can I stay outside the door?” “No!” “Well, how about five feet away?” “Okay.” So I sat down and let him know I’d be right there if he needed me and that I wasn’t going to leave him alone.

I couldn’t hear much going on inside. Occasionally it sounded like he was still crying. Of course I wanted to burst in and hold him and tell him, “Everything’s okay!” I hated that my “baby” was feeling so bad. But I was trying to allow him to feel in charge by respecting the distance he requested. Every once in a while I would remind him that I was there, and that I was sorry he was feeling so badly. Sometimes he’d tell me “Shut up!” or “I don’t care!” and I’d say I’m not leaving.

This went on for quite a while, until finally he opened the door and burst out, “That was my money you took and Ronnie said I could be his friend if I gave him that $10 and now you have my money so I don’t have it and that’s not fair!” and slammed the door. The tear floodgates opened (for me too).

It took at least 45 minutes of my husband and I taking turns listening for him to finally get that out. If we had left him alone when he had told us to, he easily could have tucked that story away and carried all that crummy stuff around: feeling bad that he’d lied about using the money for food, feeling bad that his friend had put him in a weird position, feeling bad that we thought he took it himself. You could see how that could easily “gunk up the system.”

He still had the door shut and we could hear him crying hard inside. We let him continue to cry, with gentle reminders of our love. I realized there could be an array of leftover feelings: “Did I betray my friend? Will he still be my friend?” I let him know we still love Ronnie and that we knew that he just got a little confused about money.

Before long he came out and wanted lots of snuggling. We talked about what he wanted to do about it, and had him practice with us what he wanted to say to his friend about getting the money back. I called the mom the next day and told her what happened and let her know there were no hard feelings. The boys got together and talked and the money was exchanged, and they played happily together after that.

I was so pleased that we were able to tackle the situation so well, as a team. I have no doubt that the extra attention my son got from having us both there allowed him to get to the hard stuff that he was trying so hard to hide. I was also pleased that we got to find out what was at the root of the issue for a change. So often it just looks like release of emotions and healing but I don’t know exactly what it was about. It was a big victory for our family and a step in the right direction.

Kirsten Nottleson-Join Certified Instructor Kirsten Nottleson in her Building Emotional Understanding course. Starts March 27. Register now.

Listening Time Clears Up My Clouded Thinking

I was having a very busy week and was already somewhat overwhelmed with all that had to get done. I had just watched a disturbing segment of a video about language experiments done on children in an orphanage and was about to make dinner for my family and head out to teach a class. The video had upset me but I had all that stuff to do before I went out to teach, so off I went. On with the show!

I soon noticed I could barely think. I kept going into a room and forgetting why I was there, couldn’t remember what I was doing. It was like my brain had literally shut down—nothing could go in and nothing could go out. My sister-in-law called with important information about my nephew’s upcoming wedding and I could hear her talking but it was not making sense. I knew something was way off but couldn’t stop to do anything about it.

I went on autopilot and somehow got my family fed and got in the car to go teach. I thought, “How am I going to pull this off? I’m a wreck.” I quickly realized that I needed some listening time. I called a listening partner and she agreed to exchange ten minutes. I spent the first three minutes talking about how overwhelmed I was and what a busy week it had been, thinking that that was the problem.

And then it hit me. I mentioned the language experiments done on those orphans and started wailing. I had thought when I heard it, “I should take some time on that,” but it wasn’t convenient at that moment. I cried hard about those poor children for a few more minutes and quickly felt much clearer. I realized that hearing that on the video was when I stopped being able to function. I’d been able to manage the stress until that one thing tipped the scales, and that just a few minutes of good attention made it possible for me to move on again. I was able to go teach and the class went smoothly.

Amazing how this process works!

Kirsten Nottleson

-Join Certified Instructor Kirsten Nottleson in her Building Emotional Understanding course. Starts March 27. Register now.

Listening Time Makes a Difference

I was teaching a Playful Parenting class one night and the topic was how we notice when our children disconnected.  A woman volunteered to come up and demonstrate what her son acts like when he is disconnected. She got to move her body a lot and ‘feel’ what it might feel like for him. We all sat and watched her show us what it looked like, and afterwards I gave her some listening time. She then said she had a really different perspective of what it must be like for him when he is in that place.

She came back the next week with exciting news. She said that when she left the last class she went to pick up her son. She immediately recognized that he was in disconnect. In the past she hadn’t noticed his vacant stare and had gone about talking with the babysitter for a minute or two before moving to the car without taking time to reconnect. She said trying to leave always ended up in a big messy meltdown.

But on the  night after that class she recognized he was in need of connection after their time apart and decided to engage him in some play before they even thought about leaving. They played a little chase game and “oh where, oh where has my son gone?” She said it was like magic. Not only did they reconnect and have fun, but he left happily, and when they got home he had an incredibly easy bedtime. His father brought him from the car, laid him down, and he was able to fall asleep in his own bed without ever getting up once, which was highly unusual for him.

It seemed to me that the attention of the group allowed her to see her son more clearly and get a better understanding of his experience. As a result she was able to come up with a great spontaneous solution that made the transition to the car much smoother.It’s amazing what just a little bit of listening can do!

Kirsten Nottleson-Join Certified Instructor Kirsten Nottleson in her Building Emotional Understanding course. Starts May 8. Learn more.

Removing a Splinter and an Old Hurt

My seven-year-old had a splinter in his hand that needed to be removed. I told him we’d have to take it out and that we’d probably have to use a needle.

(C) Julia Freeman-Woolpert 2007

Throughout the day he kept asking questions about the ‘procedure’. What kind of needle would we use? Would it hurt? How much? Would it bleed? How long would it hurt? Why did we need to use a needle? What does infected mean? Why did it get infected? Etc.

I tried to answer all his questions clearly, honestly and thoroughly. I told him it might hurt some, but not as much as it would hurt if it continued to get infected and that taking it out would make it get better quicker. I reassured him that it was the best thing to do for his body and that he could cry as much as he needed to.

He’d ask these questions over and over throughout the day and seemed particularly concerned about if it would hurt and would there be blood. He seemed unsatisfied with my answers and I could tell by his ‘tightness’ about it that he was worried, but wasn’t outwardly expressing any emotions.

That evening I told my husband that we were going to be taking a splinter out of our son’s hand and asked if he could hang close with us. We all sat down on the couch. I was ready for big feelings. I held his hand and first tried with tweezers, but couldn’t get at the splinter. So I got the needle ready and told him I’d make small hole so the splinter could come out. This time he cried and said, “No, don’t do it!”

Both his dad and I listened warmly to him as he cried, letting him know we were sorry he was scared, but didn’t tell him it wouldn’t hurt. After a while the crying subsided and I told him again I’d make a small hole with the needle for the splinter to come out and touched the needle to his skin. Again he cried and said, “Don’t! It’s gonna hurt.” We listened some more until the tears subsided and then reminded him again, of what we were doing, He cried some more.

We had several rounds of this and then I remembered that he had been bitten by a cat in that exact spot when he was ten months old. Despite a trip to the ER and a shot of antibiotics while being confined in a ‘papoose’ to keep him from squirming, it had gotten infected. They had to consciously sedate him and do an incision to drain the infection. They told me he wouldn’t feel any pain and because he was sedated, he didn’t cry. I remember thinking at the time, ‘What is his body and brain doing with that pain?’ At the time I didn’t have the listening tools that I do today and didn’t know how to help him process the experience other than to comfort him.

I knew now that I should take the splinter thing slowly and let him get as many feelings out as he needed to. I would let him know I was going to get the splinter out, he’d cry for a while, then it would subside and I’d say it again. At one point I said, “I remember when you were in the hospital after the cat bit you and they had to make a cut on your hand to get rid of an infection?”

He stopped crying and looked right at me as if remembering, and then went on crying even harder. A couple of times I mentioned parts of the hospital experience. He’d look at me and listen real intently, then cry hard again. He asked his Dad to stay close (unusual for him and shows me he’s figuring out how to use this process.) I kept remembering that the crying isn’t the hurt; it’s the healing of the hurt.

With each cry his body seemed to relax just a bit more and he protested less. After about 45 minutes of this he said, “Okay, I’m ready. You can take it out now.” He held out his hand completely and was able to watch as I poked and pulled the splinter out. It was actually pretty tough but he was okay with it.

After we got it out and put ointment and a Band-Aid on he bounded off the couch and had a great evening playing with all of us. It seemed to me that by listening to him he got to be in charge of his body during the splinter removal and got to heal some of the old hurt of the cat bite and hospital experience while he was at it.

Kirsten Nottleson-Join Certified Instructor Kirsten Nottleson in her Building Emotional Understanding course. Starts March 27. Register now.

Special Time and Spelling

(C) Cecile Graat 2009

Halfway through the first grade, my 7-year-old did not want to write or spell at home or school anymore. This was new for him. It seemed to me like the expectations for the first graders were significantly higher than those for kindergarteners and I think it was showing in his reluctance.

One afternoon, we had a play date at a park with one of his best friends. I went exploring in the woods with the two boys. It is rare for me to have time with my son without his younger brother, so this was a treat for both of us.

We climbed some really high, challenging rock cliffs and at the top we chunked rocks at cactuses and had some imaginative play. I was able to give him undivided, supportive, relaxed attention as he pushed himself to do hard stuff.

Later, we had a chance for more physical play at a parenting class led by Patty Wipfler. After class I was able to run around and wrestle with him. I could see that he felt really filled up, happy, confident, bright eyed, and connected.

That night as we were getting ready for bed he began to spell “hard” words out loud. “Hey, mom! I can spell ‘because’ and ‘sometimes’.” He came up with a whole list of challenging words that he could spell.

This is something he had never done before. He just came up with it on his own. It was as if his mind was really clear and all of these words that had previously been blocked (by whatever) could come forward because of all that close connected play. His mind was fully activated and ready to learn!!

Kirsten Nottleson-Join Certified Instructor Kirsten Nottleson in her Building Emotional Understanding course. Starts March 27. Register now.