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One cannot really CHANGE the actions of others- (An uncomfortable truth for us fathers and mothers;) We wonder why aren’t there quick strategies or tricks That can get our kids moving, or somehow fix Outbursts, disrespect or addictions so strong? Sometimes we may wonder how it all went so wrong… Patience. Thing is, these seeds that we sow Might not always bear fruit (or need ages to grow)- The only REAL change we can consciously affect Is the change in ourselves: how we perceive and reflect On our OWN messaging, our beliefs and our actions- Might these play a role in our children’s reactions? Might a ‘default setting’ of how WE choose to speak Be the barrier to the change we so earnestly seek? Do the words that we use match our own daily actions? Might our kids be getting mixed messaging from our reactions? Ah! this parenting business is a tough, tough road- We’ve all been crushed by that emotional load… But take heart fellow parent, SOME change we can make- That can lead to the path that we’re all meant to take Even the smallest of changes can start a ripple effect: It’s OUR beliefs, words and actions we must bravely inspect.

Sometimes we find ourselves confronted with relearning an old skill. This can be tricky. Can we still do it? As a kid, I loved to cook. I learned early. I was a 9 year old, gas-stove pro. The fire, the gas cylinder, the click-click sound at ignition, the blue flames, the hush-hush sound of the fire, the blurry bits near the flames... all of it. Totally at ease. Me and my kuali (a big wok). Together, we made many a scrumptious meal. Recently on holiday I became reacquainted with the gas stove. The holiday home we were renting had one. I hadn't used one in years: My first thought? Panic. A wee bit of apprehension...I briefly considered a menu that would circumvent the need for a stove completely (if I could forgo my cups of tea and just bake all our meals in the oven). I gingerly experimented with the stove...the darn thing wouldn't start. Was the gas empty? Was I doing it wrong? What was wrong with me?! Then I remembered my favourite hack for dealing with moments like this: I channeled the 'me' of my past...the one who had done this many times before. If 9-year-old me could, then middle-aged me would be able to as well! Time can change one's perspective and comfort level with certain tasks. I'm reminded of a conversation I'd had with a couple of grandmothers recently. Both had found themselves unexpectedly cast in the roles of 'parent' to their grandkids. 'Life throws you curveballs sometimes' one of them had wryly remarked. Neither had thought they would be 'parenting' again, at this stage in their lives. 'I am a GRAND parent,' the other told me. 'Too grand to worry about what other people think this time around. I've been here before. But this Internet business makes things harder than in the old days...young people care about it in a way I cannot understand.' If you are a GRAND parent, currently active in the parenting trenches for whatever reason, I see you. I honour you. You are fire. AND big props to anyone else stepping into this role for whatever reason- loss, foster care, mental health, step-parenting, health, adoption, marriage.... Remember to tap those great resources inside you. Focus on those instances in your past where you were able to harness the strength/skill you most need now. Remember your strengths. Remember those wins. It's courage currency. Be rich. In fact, be a flipping squillionaire! #parenting#reallife#storytelling#grandparents#grandparenting#successmining#celebrateyoursuccesses

I’m a deeply flawed human, this I must confess: Just look at me and you will see: I am a glorious mess! And like a piggy rolled in mud, I’ve learnt that mess' alright- It’s reflective of a reality- makes no sense to fight! Instead, I choose to be both vulnerable and free, And surround myself with others who see the real messed-up me- Because this perspective-I’ve realised- is so crucial to give Myself AND my kids permission, to unapologetically live- For our messy human condition, all this glorious muck, Can’t harm us if we learn the art of simply not giving a cluck! Do pardon the use of chicken language please. (Used in the name of poetic necessity.) Disclaimer: It is a blessing to be living in a place where one can truly be one's self. Sadly, this is not true for everyone in every country on this planet. We owe it to the next generation to make this world a more inclusive space for everyone. What do our kids need most so they feel truly comfortable and free to be their authentic selves?

My daughter: Tell me a story from your life, mama. Make it a good one. Me: What do you mean when you say a 'good one' darling? My daughter: An exciting one, Mama! Like something where you got into trouble. Or made some terrible mistake you had to fix. Or something funny...or a story with all three... Me: ???!!! 🙄😳🤯Wait a minute. Mama needs to think....(scrambling to think of a developmentally appropriate fail story suitable for 8 year old ears) My daughter: (most helpfully)Bonus points if you can make me laugh also, Mama! Me: (crap, there's a scorecard?!) 🍪 🍪 🍪 Here are some of my thoughts on the benefits and reasons my kids seem to want to hear my 'fail' stories.... ✅it's easier to connect with an imperfect human, so making sure I'm not on any parenting pedestals helps my kid connect with 'real Mel'. ✅it's good for me to remember that I made a zillion mistakes and lived to tell the tale....(deep breaths, my kids will too). ✅retelling my old narratives might help me rediscover long forgotten stores of resourcefulness and resilience or see parallels to something I'm currently dealing with. We all need this sometimes right?! ✅it surprisingly also gives my kids chances to question why I did certain things the way I did and tell me what THEY would have done...(Mine seem to especially love this): Like the time I was 13 and a teacher fainted in our class. It was my bright spark idea to remove her constricting sari and sprinkle her with water... Spoiler alert: we did not revive her in this way...AND there was hell to pay for trying #girlschooladventures Are your little humans also preoccupied with your fail stories? How do they 'give you advice?' #parenting#storytelling#creativity#communication#listen#connection

"And you think you can move all this cheese?" My dad grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "What's your plan?" I was 16. Had no idea about selling anything, (or planning for that matter) but like most 16-year-olds I had an even more pressing problem: I needed money. Teenage life was expensive. "Sure I can, dad! What's my cut?" My father smiled benevolently at me. "You can keep it all, darling, and the lessons you are going to learn as well." We had 2 huge industrial-sized fridges full of imported cheese in our kitchen. Unpronounceable names. Blocks from faraway lands little Malaysian me had never been to. This was from the time my father was in some sort of shipping and warehousing business. Sometimes, ships would come in with wares, need to offload and turn around. When no one wanted the goods, (which happened every now and then) they would be sold or offloaded to people with warehouses on the docks. Storage was a premium luxury. This is how we got the cheese. My father could not bear to waste food of any kind. I stared at the two huge fridges. It was dawning on me how out of my depth I was. From his perch in the kitchen, my dad piped up "I'm here if you want to talk through ideas?" "I'm fine dad. I got this" "OK Mel. I'm sure you do." I hustled as I'd never hustled before. It was Mel vs. Cheese. I eventually sold most of it (well within all expiration dates.) This was a feat, and I had to get very creative keeping things cool during transportation: 🤗I convinced the street side burger seller he could make a premium version of his cheeseburger with my 'imported European cheese.' (This wound up being a hit- he later asked for more!) 🤝I gave a local 'European style' cafe a free sample of various cheeses to use in their pasta and baked dishes, and then offered to sell them the same cheeses at a price lower than their suppliers. 🤷🏽‍♀️I even got a local hotel interested, but they needed receipts, so that was a no-go. 🧀And the rest? It got given to a local orphanage where I was told it was much appreciated. The only cheese I couldn't sell was a special blue cheese....(I think I couldn't be a convincing salesperson for something that looked highly questionable to me 😉 ). "I think it's rotten," my kid brother pointed out. "Surely it shouldn't have funny splotches like that..." My father stood back and watched. He did not interfere, nor did he offer unwanted advice. He just watched and waited. And because he did, I learned. ✅We have to let our kids have open-ended learning experiences in life. It's a powerful way to learn. ✅And their learning isn't the only thing.... WE learn a lot about our little humans too...and even more from them! ❓What useful skill did you learn because someone else stepped away? ❓Have you ever moved a ton of cheese? ps - I now know the blue cheese wasn't 'rotten'. #parenting #storytelling #letthemlead #creativity #selling #growth

I had no choice. It was an emergency. I had to wash the soup..... Say what? Whoever heard of 'washing soup'?! Let me tell you a story. It was my Mother-in-Law's birthday. She'd invited a ton of guests to a late night supper. The plan was just to chill and catch up, have a bowl of soup and bread, blow out some candles....you know...birthday stuff. Now as the kitchen enthusiast in the family, she'd asked me if I minded making the main meal- It was to be an authentic Hungarian Goulash soup. Of course I readily agreed. Food is my love language, after all. And of course I wanted it to be the best, yummiest, knock-your-socks-off goulash soup ever.... So I found a recipe online. Great reviews. I was set. Went shopping, scaled the ingredients up by 5 times. (I was cooking for a LOT of goulash-eaters that day!) But following recipes is not how I normally operate in the kitchen. I'm more of a 'follow your gut, trust your tongue' kinda cook....so... I accidentally got the recipe wrong. I inadvertently emptied half of the rather large spice shaker of 'very hot chilli powder' into the soup instead of the 'sweet smoked paprika powder' (in my defence, both ARE red!!). The result? Extremely spicy, tongue-scorching soup. (Even for me, and I like spicy!) My mother in law flapped around in a panic. We started getting creative. We added sugar (might it help?) Added some tomatoes (could it add some different flavour?) Dumped in a bunch of potato cubes (might it soak up the spice?) Finally half a bottle of red wine (her idea...not mine....might it make things taste refined?) Nothing helped. She declared it a failure and got into her car to go to a gas station to buy canned soup. No offence to canned soup, but....oh...not this...I was not losing to a can! I rolled up my sleeves, surveyed the damage, inspected the lovely, tender meat in the pot, and then realised what I needed to do.... I would wash the soup! I strained the offending spicy hell-broth out, gently rinsed the odd assortment of vegetables and incredibly tender meat off with a bit of water, got some homemade stock, threw everything back in, and made...... A MEL soup. It was a mish-mash of chaos, served with love. Born in a moment of utter desperation. My mother in law didn't have to use the cans she came back with 20 minutes later. People even went back for seconds and asked for the recipe. The soup was completely gone in 30 minutes. My point? : If you're following a recipe and it goes wrong, trust your gut. Don't be afraid to make radical changes like soup washing, if it feels right. If you need a backup (there's always canned soup), leave the door open, but don't give up on your goal. Cook with your gut, check with your tongue. You've got more skills in you than you'd ever dream! Fellow parents, I'm talking to you. Bet you've had a few soup-washing days of your own with your kids right? What were the things that helped you most? #creativity#resilience#trustyourgut#parenting#washedsoup

It has evacuated buildings. Stopped flights. Brought out bomb diffusing teams. Firefighters. ....and it is a fruit. THE DURIAN Dangerously prickly on the outside but housing a sweet, creamy fruit on the inside. World famous.....or (depending on whom you ask)....infamous. Not something to everyone's taste, but for true fans, there's nothing better. Kids can be like durians sometimes too: ✅Prickly ✅Stinky ✅Expensive ✅Not for everyone ✅Hiding absolute soft, creamy, sweet goodness inside (if you're a durian fan, that is 😉) But unlike durians, getting past that tough, prickly exterior can be a tricky business not easily accomplished by force. Listening closely to your kids in the good times is an important way to get in on the 'durian times.' If you're currently parenting a teenager, chances are, you might know these prickly moments well... How do you best show your little stinker(s) that you're really listening? Do you find it useful to schedule and carve out regular quality time with your kid(s)?

My kids (then aged 7 &10) were having a conversation. I was thankful they were loud enough so I could enjoy this gem: My daughter: It's so annoying. I'm sitting next to the absolute WORSTboy in class. It's impossible to read or do anything! He talks non-stop. Or he passes notes. One minute he's picking his nose, next he's eating it, then he wants to borrow my pencils.....ugh.... My son: Ah...I know these kinds. We have them in my class too. The disruptors. My daughter: How do you get them to stop? Or get them to just pay attention so you can learn? It's so annoying. I can't think! My son: Oh you can't. Even the teachers can't. I've been watching them. They've all got their tricks... My daughter: Tricks? Like what? What do you mean? My son: Well, there are 3 main types of disruptors... The first has lots of friends cos they're great suck-ups. When they get into trouble for disrupting anything, they get their crew of friends to help them out. They are usually so good at sucking up that the teacher is nicer to them too! The second type just have super thick skin. They don't care what anyone says, and just do whatever they like, and too bad if it disturbs anyone. They don't mind if they are loners. They make a show of collecting reflection sheets...they've gotten into so much trouble that they think it's their job. The third get into trouble for disrupting just so they can make everything into a big joke. These are the performers. The class clowns. They live for the show. I sometimes wonder if they do this to get laughs and be popular....the classroom is their stage... My daughter: (nodding as she recites...) Suck up, loner, performer. Got it. Now, how do I stop the boy next to me from eating his boogers? My son: (in a serious voice) Let me think on that and get back to you, with a game plan, OK? My daughter: (happily) OK!! Me: 🤭 Kids. Deeper than we'd imagine. And if you think they don't have us ADULTS pegged, you're wrong! As one of my students remarked many years ago "we can spot a fake a mile off." Have you got a story about this fabulous kid radar system? Ever wondered what they think of us? #parenting #momlife #kids #kidssaythedarndestthings #disruptors #classroomcrises #laugh #psychologist #parenting

You know, being vulnerable is no fun, Though I’ve heard it helps one to grow: My every instinct tells me ‘just run! Don’t put your stories on virtual show!' See, I’m a private kinda girl, I wonder, why should anyone care About what’s happening in my world? Is anyone reading this out there? But my better demons tell me, “There are so many in this boat Share your fails, your rhymes, your stories They might help keep someone afloat! If you want to build connection, Then vulnerable you MUST be, No one ever connects with ‘perfection’” (Good thing that’s never been me!) And so I’m venturing out of my cave, Welcome to the first blog I’ve ever written, Done in rhyme, of course, ‘cause that’s my fave, I hope by now you’re just smitten… By the uniqueness of a conversation in verse, To me, it’s like music on tape: Here I plan to share my parenting traverse, (And some stories come in rhyme-shape!) Welcome dear reader (yes, I mean YOU!) Thanks for your time, your eyeballs and chuckles. I hope you’ll join me on this ride- Hold on tight, lest that seat belt unbuckles!!! Are there parenting topics or rhymes that you’d like to read about? Let me know- I’d love to hear from you. And in case this question was on your mind… Nope, I don’t rhyme ALL of the time 🤪 #momlife #mentalhealth #psychology #parentingstruggles #selfhelpjourney #selfhelpbooks #nonsenserhyme #parentingblog #intentionalparenting #parentingishard #bookwormlife #authorjourney

'The neighbours are going to think we are really screwy parents.' I sighed to my husband who merely shrugged. Our 2-and-a-half year old son was whizzing through the apartment squealing at the top of his lungs 'Fiiiiiiick!!! Fickkkkkkkk.....Fick! Mama, papa, Fick!' What he meant to say was 'Fish'. 'Fick' is the German word for the F-bomb. (Side note: We live in Germany) Raising bilingual kids can be dangerous sometimes. Don’t you just love that ‘lump-of-lead-in-your-stomach-knowing-you’re-being-judged’ feeling? What’s your favourite trick for managing moments of utter parental embarrassment? #family #parenting #motherhood #kids #parentingstruggles #momlife #funnyparentingstories #thingskidssay #parentingblog #parentingishard #parentingquestions

My 2 and a half year old daughter was a picky eater. No matter what I did, she'd refuse to eat. I made all her food from scratch, all organic, even created puréed fruit and vege popsicles, yada yada....I was going spare. My best efforts were swiftly and decidedly spurned. I decided I needed to study the enemy....figure out her game...this cut deep. It felt personal. I took her grocery shopping. As I was wheeling her stroller along the fruit and veg aisle, I had a phone call. Momentarily distracted, I did not notice that little madam had 'helped herself' to some avocados which had been on a shelf within reach. She was now smashing both of them together happily and making them 'talk'. She'd even begun to suck on one of them, skin and all. Her tiny teeth leaving puncture marks... Concerned that the supermarket staff would have something to say about this avocado vandalism, I rushed to pay for it and get out of there. On the way home, she'd managed to bite the top of one off, 'paint' the insides of her stroller (and most of her face) and was happily munching away with a strangely jubilant expression. It was the most I'd ever seen her eat. Why was the avocado accepted? Because SHE had picked it for herself. She just wanted to be the boss of her own eating. That day I learned the lesson of giving my kids enough (strategically orchestrated, of course) opportunities to lead/make choices for themselves. Thank goodness I didn't take that call in the alcohol section! #family #parenting #motherhood #kids #parentingstruggles #momlife #selfhelpjourney #funnyparentingstories #selfhelpbooks #parentinghumor #parentingblog #intentionalparenting #parentingishard #bookwormlife #authorjourney