building trust

Self study, dopamine and why I’m not worrying that my kid can’t read yet.

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

I’m currently taking a Chinese medicine course, all about Traditional Chinese Medicine in relation to women’s health.

When I read about it before buying, it sounded fascinating.

Now, taking it, I’m really struggling to understand anything, and as a result, I’m putting off the study. There’s so no dopamine hit at completing units because I think I’ve understood it, and then realise I’m still very confused.

I’m learning about myself as I go though, because nobody is making me do the course. I could quit. Nobody would hold me accountable, and yet, I’m continuing – at snails pace – knowing that if I keep at it, by the end, things should fall into place and I’ll understand.

I’ve got pieces of the puzzle, but not the big picture yet.

As I watch this unfold in my own life, I’m also reflecting on our home education styles and where my children are at. P is 6 and he isn’t reading or writing yet, he can recognise letters, and even some words, though will often choose to say he doesnt know. A is 3 and showing a bit more interest in writing letters, though only on her terms. If corrected, she gets upset.

They are both at different stages, both with different pieces of the puzzle.

P doesn’t get a dopamine hit from reading or writing in the same way he does from science experiments or inventing. A gets more joy from writing, but she also gets frustrated quickly. She loves making up pictures and will come tell me about them, and the delight in her sharing is something I am determined to preserve. To me, it isn’t worth pushing anything more that that, because I trust that it will all come in time.

If they were schooled, in this country (UK) generally, most kids are expected to have at least started on the writing and reading path by the age of 6 (earlier for many). If not, they’re the B word – behind! The pressure put on young children to write and read is immense, and I’m not immune to seeing others children and worrying about if I should push mine more. That said, even when I do worry, I come back to a place of trust, unpicking my own feelings of being ‘behind’ or not performing well enough when I was in school. This is the beauty of our choice to unschool – a label I’ve become more and more comfortable with adopting recently.

As I reflect on my course and study, I know that as an adult, I understand the long game and benefits of continuing even when it feels hard. The ability to delay gratification is a skill I work on, and in this case am leaning into. I can see that eventually the pieces will come together; and I’m giving myself permission to take it slow but also not give up.

As I watch my kids, especially P, I see this kind of grit and motivation when they do things that come from a place of pure love. When they build or draw or tell a story, or even climb a tree; and they fall or it goes wrong but they get back to trying, slower, learning, more cautious yet determined.

It is something so easily missed if not looking, but once you see it, the intrinsic motivation in our children is a beautiful expression of their humanity. The drive to accomplished something, not for a sticker or praise, but for the genuine love of it – it’s in all of us, stamped out by instant gratification systems and manipulative rewards.

I am learning to slow down more, lean in to the long game.

They don’t need to learn it; they already know it, innately.

When P turns to me and says, I want to read, I’ll be ready. When A asks, it’ll be the same. Maybe I’ll get the bonus joy of them wanting to do it together, a joint learning adventure.

Until then, I’m not worrying too much. I’ll learn for my own joy, and we’ll listen to audiobooks and read stories from the bookshelves. We’ll play and dance and take the pressure off… and maybe by the time I finish this course, I’ll be better equipped with new resources anyway.

As ever, thanks for reading.

With love, and a reminder that nomatter what, you are enough,

Rohana x

As they grow and develop their skills and understanding, more puzzle pieces fit into place. They’ll start to find more joy and less frustration and they’ll choose to both read and write for fun in their own time.

The Ripple of a Supported Postpartum Period.

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

The experience of welcoming a new human earthside is a remarkable journey. I’ve done it 3 times… and the feeling I get when I share my experiences, and listen to others is incredible. There is something so sacred about birth.

However, though absolutely deserving of the attention it gets; birth is the highlight in media and many conversations; with postpartum being a little left on the wayside. For first time parents, there is some emphasis placed on the changes of this transitional period (though by no means enough); but after that, it kind of just dissapears into the noise of everything.

Postpartum is just as – if not more – sacred that birth.

As I prepare to deliver a session next month on the postpartum period to some wonderful Doulas in training, I am called to write about it here too.
In part, this is because, through the whole rollercoaster of parenthood, the attention, support and social associations between male and female parents is so different. I honestly cannot speak from stories of same sex couples; because to date I only know 2 same sex parent families who’ve had children, both of whom are female identifying. That said, we’ve all seen the memes where mum goes to the shops and is expected to ‘control the toddler’ versus dad who is ‘so wonderful’ for literally being a parent.

Nonetheless, outside of social expectations, speaking to men about their experiences postpartum – it is just as lonely, if not more so for them. It is isolating. It is hard. They receive even less support, with many (much needed) services aiming to support mothers as they transition into motherhood, and few doing the same for fathers.

Yet, it is, in my opinion, vital to recognise, support and celebrate the role that fathers play in the postpartum period.
Supporting families as a whole unit here, in these early months, can lay the foundations for a family life that is built on a strong sense of connection, trust and nurturing. Not only is the child or children in a far more stable, healthy environment for their emotional growth, but both parents are more likely to communicate kindly with each other, have compassion, and connect in a more intimate way – which, let’s be honest, isn’t going to harm anyone’s sex life.

How can we support families as a whole unit?

In my postpartum prep session I dive deeply into conversations about the 4th Trimester and ways we can really support families.

If I could gift any new parent something, it would be this support. A step towards that is this information.

Nourishing the Body with Good Food:

One of the most fundamental ways to provide support is by ensuring that postpartum families are nourished with good food. In the absence of being able to literally take someone food (because honestly thats a BIG task), recommending recipies or supporting them to create a meal train where friends/famkly bring food, can make a huge impact.

The demands of parenting, combined with sleep deprivation and physical recovery from labour and birth, will massively affect new parent’s energy levels. Fathers, in particular, often are expected to step up to ensure that the family is well-fed during this vital period – and a sense of support and direction is helpful.

Nutrient-rich meals not only aid in physical recovery but will contribute to state of mind. When both parents are nourished with wholesome, healthy foods, they are less likely to falter in moments of stress, because they are physically having this need met.

Rest

In a fast-paced world, the idea of rest that isn’t justified by some kind of productivity beforehand might seem elusive. However, the fourth trimester calls for a major shift in perspective, where rest is acknowledged as a precious commodity. This is as true for fathers, who at least in this country are required to go back to their day jobs only 2 weeks after baby arrives, while still adjusting to their role as supporting the family in this new way.

Many conversations centre how fathers can take on more responsibilities. In part, yes I agree, because nursing a baby is a full time job and mums need rest. But, radically, I also assert that fathers should prioritise rest.

This should absolutely be a conversation before baby arrives. Dishes can be minimalised. Hoovering doesn’t have to be as often as it was. The house will be a mess and that’s okay. When dad’s rest is prioritised alongside mum’s, there is more balance, more opportunities for meaningful conversation and more joy.

Mental health

The last big focus in creating a supported postpartum experience, without diving into the other (essential) aspects mental health.

Yeah that’s too vague Rohana … we all know mental health matters, but how do we do anything about it?

  • Chat openly and honestly. Before having baby and after. Every step of the way… honest, non-judgemental conversations are essential. This is probably best done when everyone has been fed, and there isn’t insane levels of sleep deprivation being used as competitive advantage in the who feels worse game. But seriously, taking to partners about the JOYS and the things that are hard, makes a difference.
  • Divide and Conquer. Divide jobs/tasks. Remove everything that isn’t essential to be done by you/your partner. Delegates the none essentials. Easier said than done… I’m banking on the idea that you’ve got a gorgeous groups of family and friends who want to help (and can) OR a wonderful doula. If neither applies (it didn’t for me!), then lower the bar massively. Do the essentials. Survive. This isn’t forever.
  • Find friends. Groups. Peanut. Facebook local groups. Whatever is an option… if you can, use it. Parenting is isolating, and by having someone to give and receive some solidarity around, it helps. *careful not to just find ranting buddies who keep you feeling low*
  • Lastly, do things for joy. Don’t give up hobbies. Don’t ask your partner to. In fact, schedule them in with extra vigilance, because being reminded that you’re a human outside of helping this tiny person grow and survive is really important.

There’s so much more to say… creating a supported, wholesome postpartum and beyond experience isn’t going to magically happen. It is worth the work though, because when you are supported, you feel safe.

When you feel safe, your nervous system capacity can hold more.

When you feel safe, baby (and other children) feel safe too. Their mirror neurons mimic your regulated state.

Then, the cycle of safety, support, joy repeats. It cycles. And grows.

This time for growth and unity as a famkly builds the sturdy foundations of trust and connection, which, when toddler and teenage years come by, will be something that holds everyone through.


As ever, thank you for reading.

Rohana

Building Trust When Kids Lie

| Rohana Aisha Dewfall

Trust is a big word in relationships.

I had an old photo come up recently; one of those shared ones from a quote page on Facebook which read “trust is like a piece of paper, once you crumple it up, you can smooth it out again, but it will never be exactly the same.” It got me thinking about trust, and the way we bring it up with our kids.

They trust us implicitly in the early years. They have to in order to survive. As they get older, around the age of 4, they begin to experiment with lies – not to hurt us, but rather, to see what happens.

When my oldest started this, I was shocked! It brought up a lot for me; about the relationship I have with trust, and how its affected my personal life. So, despite being very triggered, and definitely not responding calmly at first, I got curious – why do children lie? It turns out, it’s kind of like discovering a superpower, where they can hold multiple versions of a story, and keep track of each one relating to other people, and then see what happens. They may be scared or worried, or maybe just curious; but lying is a developmental leap; and after all, adults tell white lies all the time right? Especially to kids.

So how are they meant to trust us?

And how do we build a relationship of trust with them?

I don’t the answers – if I did I wouldn’t be writing this – but I do have my experiences and reflections. In part because I think by getting curious and researching, I learned that I wasn’t the only mum freaking out about trust. It’s pretty universal, which I think is a good indicator of how messed up so many people over this concept, and how loaded it really it.

Trust is the foundation of relationships isn’t it? And yet, our kids see/hear us lie about the park being closed, or not going to a party or the big one: Santa! It’s confusing; because there are some socially acceptable lies – whether or not we agree with them personally.

By getting honest; which is harder and often leads to more upset, we set the standard.

“No, we’re not going to the park today because mummy is cold and it’s nearly lunchtime.”

“There are more biscuits in the house but right now we can’t have them because we’ve had enough for today.”

“I’m taking a few minutes by myself, because I am tired. I love you, and adults get tired too, so I need a few minutes to rest.”

None of these are fun; and most of the time they are going to result in a child getting angry or sad or both, but it means that when they have to regulate, or tell someone why they can’t do something, or need a minute, they are equipped with the language to do so. The hardest one for me, is time alone. The others, after practice, now result in some form of compromise or negotiation where I say no, and they say “when can we?” and we talk about it.

For example the other day we went for a woodland walk and my daughter really wanted to go to the park afterwards, but my oldest son was tired and it was nearly lunchtime. I said no, because we had to get home and she wasn’t happy. She said she’d go alone and I said I couldn’t let her, but that we’d go another day. She asked if the next day (i.e. tomorrow) I’d bring her, and I said “I don’t know, but I promise when we come out to this area again, I’ll bring a picnic and we can do the park as well. Today I don’t have enough food, and your brothers tired so it’s not a good idea.” She understood.

But what about when they lie?

At first, I struggled. I got upset, and I felt like I was failing at teaching them the importance of truth telling. Then, I stopped, dropped the idea that it was an attack on me or my parenting, and tried to understand why. When it involved hurting a sibling, or spilling the soap everywhere; it was because they were scared about what I’d do.

I don’t want my kids to be scared of me. This was a huge reality check for me. I wanted them to know, mistakes, big feelings, doing things we shouldn’t (often because impulse control isn’t a thing for tiny people), are okay, because we can clean up and repair, and we can figure out a way forward, together. Once I realised this, and I talked to them about it, we shifted. I got less upset; they didn’t lie as much. When they did, I asked them to tell me what really happened; or I played along for a bit; and teased the truth out.

Truthfully; when my kids lie now, unless there’s potential danger, I go with it – which for the most part means they turn around quickly and say “I tricked you” and then we play or laugh or chat about it. I don’t always manage, but when this happens, I also try and remind them that they’re body is stronger in truth – and that they can impact every single cell inside them positively by being truthful.

It’s not a perfect system, and we’re not perfect at it. But it works for us right now… and through adults setting the standard, we’re building trust, so they know they can rely on us, even if they don’t like what they hear. It’s building bridges, and it’s reminding them (and me) that we can live in truth far more peacefully than with white lies that crumple our paper in the long term.

Thank you for reading,

Rohana