Gratitude: the rose, the thorn & the bud

For the past few months, my partner and I have become exceedingly frustrated at the alarming increase of “needs” and “wants” of our children. We felt as though we were losing them to the grand consumption of LEGO, toys, books, etc. They wanted it ALL! This, all just after Christmas, a birthday and a visit from our amazing (and very generous) in-laws. 

The insult to this injury is that the new “gift” of the hour was often forgotten about a week after it was brought home.  My husband and I found it disappointing, frustrating, and deeply concerning that we were possibly creating little hoarding consumers who didn't appreciate what they had. And while I don't expect my 5 and 7 year old children to understand the environmental costs of their disposable toys or the inequity of having so much when other families in Canada and around the world have so little, I wanted us to get a little perspective. 

What I felt that we were missing most was gratitude. Gratitude for the relative safety we enjoy in Canada, and particularly in Ottawa. Gratitude for the gifts we have in our home already. Gratitude for the simple beauty that surrounds us every day. 

It was then that we brought back the “rose, thorn & bud”. The “rose” is the gift of today, the “thorn” is the challenge we experienced, and the “bud” is something we’d like to work on tomorrow. At bedtime, the four of us lie on my youngest son’s bed, and youngest to oldest, we share our roses, thorns and buds for the day. At first, my baby would say his rose was his birthday (which happened over a month ago), his thorn was his supper and his bud was turning 13. But over a month in, we now have a much more diverse offering of experiences (...he wants to turn 14). 

A few things have resulted from this daily, mindful practice of gratitude. First, it is a beautiful, calming way to end our day. Second, we are learning so much more about what is happening to our kids at school. It also helps us to identify the struggles and joys they are experiencing. Third, it forces my partner and I not to rush bedtime. We turn off our internal parenting clock and, while lying beneath the (glow-in-the-dark) stars, we share and giggle and cuddle. Finally, it’s a wonderful reflection of our day that invites us to brainstorm possible strategies to address our thorns, celebrate our roses and get excited about our buds. This simple practice lets our kids know that we care about what is happening in their world - be it feeling frustrated at school, getting in trouble at supper or constantly feeling unheard. This practice has been extremely helpful in developing a consistent flow of communication between us all. 

Our rules of “rose, thorn & bud” are simple. We go in order of youngest to oldest (stops all fighting). We don’t interrupt or comment on the person’s sharing of experience (ignoring our chuckles derived from our 4 year old's daily musings, which are often rather funny). I thank every one for sharing immediately after and make sure that the person speaking has nothing more to share. Being the eldest in the family has the additional perk of being the moderator! 

An interesting off shoot of this experience has been my eldest son’s request for us to bring back, what we call, “Dear Creator”. Two years ago, I taught him to say a prayer before bedtime that simply stated what he was thankful for during his day. Like so many of my parenting strategies that get tossed to the wayside, I had forgotten about this wonderful practice. You can imagine my surprise when he asked if we could reintroduce it back into our nightly ritual. 

So now, we also say thanks to the Creator. My kids have yet to ask who this “Creator” happens to be and I am not entirely sure I have a cohesive answer to offer, but for now, it is lovely to hear our children say thank you. My baby (every time) thanks the garbage trucks for taking away our garbage (this is really important to him), and has recently added that he is thankful for his family and friends. My eldest thanks Creator for his family and friends, and has, ever so thoughtfully, added that he wants to protect those who are unsafe, feeling cold or hungry and feeling scared. I finally feel like we are beginning to bring a sense of gratitude back into our very privileged home. 

Perhaps this is yet another stage in our world and perhaps we will let this small ritual slide, like so many others. But imagine if we didn’t. Imagine if this mindful practice was part of our nightly ritual until our children grew into teenagers. Yet for now, I'm grateful that they are learning about the importance of reflection, of being heard, of throwing fears and gratitude out into the universe, of being supported and most importantly, especially in today’s hectic schedule, of not being rushed. Yes, my kids are going to bed a little later, but it feels as though it is worth it.

In fact, today, my son actually said that he was thankful for all the toys he had and that although he wants more, he thinks that he may actually have enough LEGO for now.  Go figure….