How to Find Balance
Trailer Outtakes for the Holiday!
Accentuate the Positive
Getting After Stress
Being Both a Parent and a Person
Talking with children about race and racial bias
What Have We Learned
How Mindfulness Helped My Daughter Finish a Big Hike

“I’m tired. My feet hurt. I don’t want to walk anymore and it’s really hot. I need to stop and rest. Can you carry me? Why can’t you carry me?”
In her defense, my 8 year old made it all the way up and most of the way down a fairly steep hike before the whining began. My husband reminded her of what a good hiker she is, and that the more she practiced hiking, the better she would get at it, and that the hardest part of the trek was already behind us, and that she just needed to keep walking and we would get her a giant plate of pasta (without the dreaded red sauce, of course) as soon as we got back to the car.
None of it helped. She was a grumplestiltskin.
Fortunately, this was my moment to shine, and not just because I’ve spent the better part of a decade practicing mindfulness in a desperate attempt to get a little space from my own obnoxious, unhelpful thoughts. It’s also because I have years of experience suffering my way up and down various hills and mountains. I love hiking, but steep inclines can be particularly challenging for me and I can easily end up as cranky as, well, an 8 year old.
“Ok, kiddo,” I said as I took her sweaty little hand in mine. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re going to count our steps, 1-8, and then start again. I’m going to count to 8 first, and then it’s your turn.” And so I started counting, saying each number out loud as my feet hit the ground. I counted and then my daughter counted and together we fell into a steady rhythm as we walked along the rocky trail.
Within a couple of minutes, my daughter asked if she could make up a song instead. Sure! Here’s what she came up with:
Hiking. Boom. Hiking. Boom. Ha Ha Hiking Boom.
Walking. Boom. Walking. Boom. Wa Wa Walking Boom.
We held hands and repeated her chant in a steady rhythm for the next twenty minutes. My older daughter and husband walked ahead of us, occasionally looking back and smiling at our ridiculous little ditty.
Once we were back in the car, my daughter commented on how helpful the counting and singing had been. I explained that it was a little trick I invented in college, when I often went hiking with friends. I was embarrassed to stop in front of them so I had to figure out a way to keep going even when I was tired.
And then we talked about why, and how, my strategy worked. (Because when your mother is a social worker, you get to process *everything*.) This is what we came up with:
- It helped tame my daughter’s unruly thinking. Her tired brain got stuck in cranky thought patterns, which made it hard for her to think about anything else. (This is just what the human brain does when it’s tired.) Instead of trying to force her exhausted brain to do something it couldn’t do, we just gave it something super easy to focus on.
- It kept her brain in the present moment, focused on one step at a time. Tired brains are particularly prone to stressing about the past or worrying about the future. In this case, my kiddo just kept worrying about how much longer the hike would last and whether it would get hard again and if her body was going to get even more tired. All that future thinking made the hike seem harder than it actually was.
- My daughter’s body was feeling particularly sore and tired, which meant it needed a little extra help to keep walking. A walking stick might have worked, but we couldn’t find a good one. A piggy back ride from a parent might have also done the trick, but we were both carrying backpacks, and besides, she’s going to outgrow that option in the next year or two. Rather, we needed help from her brain; chanting or singing something with a steady rhythm did the trick and kept her moving.
- Keeping your body and brain working on the same thing often makes hard tasks easier. If your body is doing one thing, but your brain is doing something else, then your brain has to think about what it’s doing while also trying to keep an eye on your body and that’s stressful and makes things harder. And yes, whining and complaining (even if you’re whining and complaining about what your body is actually doing in that very moment) counts as doing two different things because your brain gets distracted by how unhappy you are. Counting, chanting, or just describing whatever you’re doing keeps your brain in sync with your body.
We also talked about how this strategy can be helpful for almost any hard activity, not just hiking. You can count your way through boring tasks like cleaning up beads that have fallen all over the floor or chant to keep your mind focused while you fold laundry or jump rope. I also briefly mentioned that we were practicing mindfulness. I didn’t push it though, because when you’re mama’s a social worker, well, sometimes it’s enough already.
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Don’t Take The Last Run: Advice From My Father

Father’s Day is coming up this weekend, which has got me thinking about my Dad. He gave me a lot of advice over the years. I listened to all of it, and then promptly forgot or blatantly ignored most of what he said (sorry, Dad!). However, there were a few nuggets of wisdom that I took to heart, and one suggestion in particular has made my life and parenting significantly easier.
Don’t take the last run.
These four words come from the years we spent on the ski slopes of northern New Mexico. My Dad was a ski instructor and I was a squirt on Mickey Mouse skis. Eventually I grew into an adolescent pain in the butt who spent my chair lift rides scraping the snow off my skis onto unsuspecting skiers below. No matter how old I was, I loved being on the slopes, and I always wanted to take just one more run.
Nope, my father said, don’t do it.
The last run of the day happens when we’re the most tired (and/or hungry, tired, dehydrated, or overstimulated, depending on the situation) and thus the most likely to have an accident or injury. Even if it’s not that bad, that last run may be the one to put us over the edge into a meltdown, adults and children alike.
The last run doesn’t just happen on the ski slopes. It’s one more TV show, one more trip around the block on the bicycle, one more cookie, two more minutes on the swing, three more jumps on the trampoline, five more minutes at the playdate, two more stories before bedtime.
Basically, you want to stop while the stopping’s good. Because when the stopping gets bad, it can get really bad, especially when kids are involved.
Sometimes I have a hard time keeping my own advice in mind; the girls are having so much fun, or maybe they’re not having that much fun but I’m enjoying talking to my friends so what do I care, or maybe they’re just asking really nicely. Either way, it can be so damn tempting to just let them take one more run. What can possibly go wrong?
Uhhhhh… a lot. A lot can go wrong.
Don’t do it. Notice that urge to eek out every last minute of fun, and resist it. Remind yourself and your kids not to take that last run. Pack it up while you still have a chance at getting off the mountain without a major meltdown or sprained ankle. You can get back out there tomorrow, when everyone’s had a chance to sleep and eat and return to normal functioning.
There you have it, folks. Some of the most useful advice I’ve ever gotten, courtesy of my Dad. What’s the most helpful advice your father ever gave you? I’ll share the best nuggets of wisdom in my newsletter, which, incidentally, you can sign up for here.