Parents: Take Care Of Yourselves
10 Ways To Thrive With Young Kids At Home.
Photo by Emilio Küffer on Flickr
A website detailing male postpartum depression–yes, that’s a thing–offers signs you may be struggling with PPPD (paternal postpartum depression).
Being easily stressed.
Frustration or irritability.
Feelings of discouragement, cynicism.
Ongoing physical symptoms, like headaches, back pain, or digestion issues.
Increased anger and conflict with others.
Increased use of alcohol or other drugs.
Violent behavior.
Loss of interest in work, hobbies, or sex.
Problems with concentration and motivation.
Impulsiveness, taking risks, and reckless behavior.
Isolation from family and friends.
Losing or gaining weight without trying.
Increase in complaints about physical problems.
Working constantly.
Increased concerns about productivity and functioning at school or work.
Experiencing conflict between how you think you should be and how you are.
Feeling sad for no reason.
Thoughts of suicide.
Is this what parenting feels like for you?
Certainly, this isn’t the case for all parents. But, studies show that up to one in four first-time fathers experience PPPD. (If any of these symptoms sound familiar, please take action. Talk to someone about how you’re feeling. And if you’re really struggling, seek professional help.)
For me, these feelings hit all too close to home. Not everything listed above is something I experienced. But, by and large, I wasn’t myself for a while after taking on the role of ‘Dad.’
Parenting, and all of the circumstances surrounding it, has easily been the most difficult–beautiful, infuriating, noble, crisis-ridden, and significant–undertaking of my life. Becoming what I would consider a good father is something I’ve had to work for and grow into. It’s taken a few years; but thankfully, I feel as though I’ve recovered from the initial crisis of becoming a father and having multiple children.
What have I done?
Below is a list of ten things I’ve either added or taken away from my life that have changed everything for me. Some are simple and easy to adopt. Others are difficult and may take some trying. All of what I outline below are common sense and fall into the category of self-care. Yes, that’s right. To be at your best for other people, you have to take care of yourself first.
The things I added to my life:
1. Water. Drinking more of it is an easy win.
Just after our second son arrived, I set a goal of drinking 100 oz. of water daily. I bought a 27 oz. Klean Kanteen and aimed to consume at least four bottles each workday.
Much is written about the benefits of good hydration: it clears your skin; it flushes toxins; it helps with digestion and gut health; you feel less bloated, hungry, and fatigued; it aids in weight loss; and it helps in fighting illness. I felt these benefits almost immediately.
Plus, I achieved something.
When rhythms and routines go out the window–which happens when a new kid arrives–easy wins are huge. The feeling of even a small achievement can go a long way. Drinking water was my first easy win. Moreover, feelings of achievement start a small dopamine release, further propelling emotions of success, reward, and motivation.
2. Protein. Eating it first thing fuels the brain.
After kid number three, I read about a link between protein and the brain. Eating more protein improves mental clarity, fights fatigue, and helps with memory recall. I’m no dietician, but that reads like a list of basic requirements for every parent.
Protein is one of three macronutrients the body needs to make enzymes, produce various hormones, and foster tissue and overall immune health. It makes sense, if 60% of our body is water, then we should drink more water. Well, 20% of our body is protein; shouldn’t we consume more protein as well?
Eating more protein at breakfast–about 20 grams every morning–left me with more energy, less hunger, and my memory and mental clarity improved dramatically. Also, I stopped eating empty carbohydrates and sugars to start my day, as I was full from all the protein.
In uncertainty, crisis, or change, mental clarity is like a superpower. The ability to think reasonably about a situation allows you mastery over that situation.
To say it plainly, more protein in the morning helped me get my brain back.
3. Tea. It’s a reward worth indulging.
Early in our parenting, my wife and I got into the bad habit of rewarding ourselves at the end of a tough day with ice cream or alcohol once the kids were in bed. Not only did this lead to restless, unfulfilled sleep, we quickly gained five or ten pounds of unnecessary weight.
A friend helped me understand what we were doing by explaining the difference between physical hunger and emotional hunger. The former is the physical feeling of hunger produced by the hormones leptin and ghrelin. The latter is a desire to eat to fulfill an unmet emotional need. Beer and ice cream at 8 o’clock at night is definitely about emotional needs.
To replace this bad habit, we started drinking tea just after the kids were in bed. On our best nights, we drink tea together in the living room and talk about our day. We eat nothing. We watch nothing. We drink tea and connect.
We’re realizing the reward we needed all along was communication and connection, especially after those long, exhausting days.
4. Stretching. Stress relief that actually works.
My back surgery rehab included what’s called passive stretching. This is a slow, relaxed stretch assuming a position and holding that position with another body part or with the help of a partner. Passive stretching is useful in relieving spasming muscles or recovering from an injury.
It was odd at first. The initial positions the doctors had me perform were so subtle, I felt as if I wasn’t doing anything. What can I say, they worked. A bonus, I found the ten or fifteen minutes required to do the stretches both calming and something I looked forward to. The combination of stretching, breathing, and resting became necessary for both my back and my mind.
Now, on my best days, I stretch at least twice a day for ten minutes or more. It offers me greater flexibility, a few minutes of calm, and near instant stress relief.
5. Training. Aerobic exercise is a natural antidepressant.
Also prescribed post back surgery, I worked out in a pool to strengthen my core. This low impact alternative to running or plyometrics had surprising benefits.
First, I liked that the doctor called it training. I wasn’t exercising. I had a goal. I was training. Something about that small shift in how I thought about what I was doing added motivation and energy to the entire endeavor.
Next, swimming forces you to relearn how to breathe. Unlike other cardiovascular sports, swimming doesn’t allow for untrained breathing. In fact, until you master the skill of breathing in the water, it’s impossible to focus on anything else. Focusing on my breath taught me presence, stillness, and rhythm.
Finally, aerobic exercise is a proven antidepressant. Sometimes, it’s as effective as drugs on depression. It lowers blood pressure, gives you better sleep, improves brain function, and releases endorphins.
6. Resistance training. Strength training strengthens everything.
In high school and college, I was a regular at the local gym. I was strong, took care of my body, and I knew my way around. After having kids, lifting weights was among the first things to go.
Just over a year ago, I decided–for no particular reason–to skip the pool one morning and walk upstairs to the gym. I did a few bodyweight exercises, two or three dumbbell movements, and tested how many pull-ups I could get after all these years. Leaving the gym that morning, I thought to myself, “I can do this.”
So, I downloaded two apps to aid in workout selection, and I was off. For the next six months, I did both aerobic and resistance training three to five times per week.
Lifting weights has given me yet another easy win each day. It’s strengthened my body, improved my posture, and studies show it combats anxiety and, again, improves overall brain health. Are you seeing a theme here?
7. Meditation. By sitting still, we learn to be still.
The last on the list of things I added, meditation isn’t new to me. I’ve experimented with many meditative practices including silent prayer, reflection, and various forms of literature memorization and meditation.
In August of last year, I was introduced to something new within the world of meditation–new to me, anyway–contemplative prayer. Unlike other forms of mediation I’ve known, contemplation invites you to let go of your thoughts altogether. The purpose of a contemplative sit is to relax the mind and think of, well, nothing.
Jim Finley says of contemplation, “By sitting still, we learn to be still. We learn there is no place to go. We close our eyes so that we can see. We place our hands in our lap because there is nothing to create. The infinite miracle of the breath reminds us of the ancient reciprocity of receiving and letting go.”
Contemplative sits are difficult, especially in a world addicted to striving. I’ve found them to be revolutionary. A revolution against my ego, a revolution against my need to keep moving, and a practice to combat the desire to keep proving myself. In sitting, I trust that I’m enough. The breath is all I need.
Things I removed from my life:
8. Naysayers. Saying goodbye to cynical people solves a lot of mental problems.
Living with three young children is a crisis, of sorts. Maybe it’s just our kids, but the amount of complaining, fighting, negativity, lack of gratitude, and general unrest in our home since they arrived is, at times, overwhelming. Is that too honest?
I get it. They’re kids; that’s what kids do. But, if having children means you have to live with a greater degree of cynicism and negativity, then you can mitigate the same in other areas of your life. The most important thing I did was say goodbye to negative relationships.
In this life, we get to pick our friends, and if your friends cause you mental or emotional harm, moving on from them could be vital to your sanity.
Again, I’m an upbeat guy, and my mind can only take so much negativity. There are good, well-meaning people in the world who–for whatever reason–choose to complain, compete, and tear other people down more than they do just about anything else. However difficult it has been, letting go of these relationships was a necessary step in regaining my mental health.
9. Work. Quitting your job can save your life.
Every item on this list is worthy of its own article. To be sure, a full explanation of how and why I quit my job last year requires more than I can offer here. The long and short of it, I quit my job of thirteen years because it no longer aligned with the person I had become and the work I felt I must do.
I understand that not everyone is able to up and quit his or her job. I also know that for some of you, staying in your current position will have far worse consequences than not being able to pay the bills for a few months.
If you know you need to move on, move on.
I quit my job hoping to find alignment. I want my talent, creativity, and professional contributions to align with my values and vision for life. I knew for a while I was out of sync professionally. Perceived and felt chaos at home–ahem, raising three young children–pushed me to finally be honest about that unrest. Yes, it was difficult to make the move, but it’s the best decision I’ve made in years.
10. Late nights. Give yourself the gift of rest.
Every parent loses sleep. And with every new kid in our family, we lost more sleep than the one before.
Sleep deprivation was devastating for me. Without sleep, I’m unproductive and unfriendly. My life is a fog, and you don’t want to be around me. So, I don’t stay up late anymore.
After our third child arrived, my wife and I began going to bed early. It’s not uncommon for us to be in bed by 8:30 or 9p on a weeknight. I’m okay with this because I’ve always been an early riser. And we both feel so much better after a good night’s rest.
Yes, that is as common sense as it gets.
But as a young parent, some are tempted to believe the best time of the day is when the kids are asleep. “Finally, some me time.” Well, if you stay up late and forsake your rest, you’ll pay for it in the days and weeks to come. Study after study shows that everybody needs sleep. Without it, we lose mental clarity, we experience memory loss, our blood pressure elevates, we weaken our immune system, and we are more prone to mood swings.
It’s been two years since I said goodbye to late nights, and I assure you, I’m not missing anything. Rest is more important than anything I could accomplish after 9p.
These ten things have been saving my life. They’re how I’ve recovered from PPPD. Please don’t get the impression I’ve arrived. I’m not done scaling this mountain. My children are only six, three, and two, so I’ve a long way to go. But I have learned that self-care is vital to parenting and navigating change.
Drinking water and eating well lead to a healthy body. Taking care of your body leads to a healthy brain. And a healthy brain is further enhanced through positive relationships and meaningful rest.
If you’re struggling with crisis or change, embracing one or all of these could save your life.
The Race To Raise My Kids
Source: kvknox.com
The technical term for an adoptive family like ours is transracial. We are white, white, white, black, and black. It confuses people when they first meet us.
“Excuse me, buddy, where are your parents?” A stranger kneels to address my son.
“I’m right here.” I wave, not ten feet from where the kids play.
“Oh, right.” The concerned dad smiles, his voice awkward, “Sorry, I didn’t…”
“No worries. Thank you.”
Nearly every day, I’m reminded our family–the Knoxes–isn’t normative. All-white families rarely become multiracial, not in the immediate sense, anyway. We did, though. And, four years into this new identity, I’ve learned a few things.
Everyone sees color.
Somehow, the guy at the park knows that people of color go with people of color, and my kid doesn’t have an appropriate person of color (POC) watching him go down the slide. If that sounds archaic, I assure you it’s not. Most instances of racial diversity in our culture require at least some mental arithmetic to process.
“Two of your kids are black, but you’re both white? Oh, you must have adopted.” Or “Wow, that board of directors is so diverse. Kudos to that company for being intentional about their leadership.” Or “Wait, we hired a new head coach, and he’s black? Our school is way more progressive than I thought!”
At the store, on the street, and every time we go for a walk, people see the colors of my family’s skin, and they give it a second thought. Black people see us and take note. White people do too. Everyone sees color.
For good and for bad, race is one way–perhaps the most prevalent way–society divides itself. Like gender, religion, sexuality, and class, race is a dominant form of social distinction in America today.
Seeing color isn’t racist. It’s honest.
My wife and I are white. Being white means we didn’t grow up understanding ourselves in terms of race. We never felt the pinch of racial socialization, so we never perceived its presence. Now, as a father of two black children, I can’t afford to be ignorant of race.
Maybe you don’t trust statistics, and you dismiss headlines that make you uncomfortable with a casual, “fake news.” But when it’s your kid (or yourself, POC), you pay attention. You read, and you ask questions.
As early as preschool, my two youngest children are more likely to experience implicit bias than their white older brother. They have a higher chance of being removed from the classroom than he does. They are four times more likely to be suspended than he is for the same infractions.
My kids live in a society where they are three times as likely to be pulled over while driving, twelve times more likely to be wrongly convicted of drug crimes, and disproportionately likely to be shot by a police officer–all because they are black and not white like their brother.
In my view, to say you don’t see color is to confess a lack of self-awareness, to lie, or to declare you’ve got few POC in your life. At best, it’s ignorant; at worst, it’s racist.
I can’t afford to be ‘colorblind.’ My kids don’t have time for me to be ignorant to or afraid of the challenges they face. They need me to do my best to understand and take action. Seeing color is one way we practice empathy and are responsible to our children, yours and mine alike.
There is a difference between being racial and being a racist.
It took me adopting two children of color to wake up to issues of race. I had a lot to learn and still do. But I will not let what I didn’t know keep me from becoming the father my children need me to be.
One distinction I didn’t understand was the difference between racialism and racism. Racialism is being conscious of the race of others. Racism is hostility toward others based on race.
Where racialism facilitates awareness of the many challenges and opportunities faced by a particular race, racism reinforces those challenges and opportunities. We live in a racial world. It’s not racist to admit it. What’s racist is refusing to try.
White people: POC drawing attention to issues of race isn’t racist.
If you’re pregnant and go to a doctor to receive care, but the doctor tells you to stop talking about it because he doesn’t experience the symptoms of pregnancy himself, you’d call him crazy. More than that, you’d immediately find a new doctor who’ll listen.
It doesn’t cause more division to highlight the realities of division. This is how we diagnose the problem. Race sensitivity isn’t an overreaction. Being more racial is how we become a society not so divided by race.
Confession isn’t telling a truth nobody knew. Confession is the practice of acknowledging that which was true the whole time. And acknowledging the forces of race in our society–having the courage to be racial–is the first step in confessing our societal sins.
I will never know the experience of being black in America.
At least 20% of the black community responds to my family with unease. In four years as a transracial family, we’ve been talked down to, yelled at, stared at, and, more than once, people have turned their heads sideways with a quizzical look, thinking: “What the what!?”
From housing, to surveillance, to wealth inequality, to policy bias, to incarceration, and on and on, my experience of America differs from that of the average black person. I’m a white male from Kansas. My parents raised me white, evangelical (once, America’s great slaveholder religion). I’m well aware that my experience has little to offer my children about being black.
I picture a man born blind. He does everything he can to experience the color yellow. He studies the science of color, he learns about light and wavelengths, and he can tell you every object in the world that appears as yellow. Still, that he can use his intellect to imagine it doesn’t mean he knows it.
I used to feel sad about this. Oh, the challenges my children already face because of their race. Add to that the reality their parents are white.
Today, I’m not sad. My kids don’t need sadness from me. They, like their brother, need a father who loves them. They need a mom who cares for them unconditionally. We also surround ourselves with POC at every turn. From childcare, to haircuts, to social outings, and close friends, our children not only interact with other POC, black people are family to us.
My wife and I are not black. That’s real. The reality of our family’s diversity will be a challenge for us all. But our longing is evidence of our love. The obstacles we face only increase our desire to navigate them well.
We are a transracial family. This isn’t the truest things about the Knoxes, but it is true. And raising my children well means seeing color. It means becoming more racial and, as much as we can, exposing them to other POC who know what it is to be black in America.