Simple Parenting Advice: Do What You Love.featured

Since starting this blog, I’ve received many uplifting comments about the lifestyle we’ve chosen, usually accompanied by a question: “how did you decide this was the life you wanted?” In the past, I’ve struggled to answer this question.

I’ve written volumes on why it’s the right fit for us and how having children helped us zone in on these priorities, but I still struggled to identify the spark that started us down this path.

While looking through old photos this week, I found a familiar image of Molly on a beach, arms flung wide and head back in an attempt to embrace the entire ocean. I remember the exhilaration on her face that day as she wildly giggled and ran through the surf screaming. A rare display of wild abandon from our often serious oldest child. And suddenly, unexpectedly, I saw myself.

Anyone who knew me in college probably remembers being coerced into taking a middle of the night trip to Lake Michigan. Most likely in the dead of winter. Years later, I can recall these moments and feelings clearly. I smell the cold, fresh air and feel the biting wind as I run down the beach enthralled by the power of the crashing waves. I still feel the familiar rush of joyful excitement as all my senses are fully immersed in life and nature.

Like most parents, we want our children to grow up feeling loved and deeply connected. We want them to live joyful, meaningful lives full of passion and purpose. And, as with most parenting, I believe the best way to do this is to lead by example.

Quite simply, we travel as a family because we love to travel. It stretches us and helps us grow. It ignites our mutual love of history and religion and churches. My love of art. His love of languages. It is one of the times we feel most alive.

We read extensively to our children because we love literature. We love sharing stories from our childhood and discovering new works that make the world come alive in our imaginations.

We visit the Catholic church in every place we travel. We sit in masses where the only familiarity is the order and rhythm of the mass. We walk through churches to find recognizable images and learn why certain regions value their patron saints.

We spend significant amounts of time outside because I was raised on nature hikes and days of roaming freely. Being immersed in nature as an adult is deeply grounding and comforting.

My meager attempts at “self care” would appear laughable to most. These days, self care often looks like a thorough vacuuming so the toddler who puts everything in his mouth can play independently. Despite this, I am joyful and fulfilled. With three young children, I don’t feel depleted or lost to myself.

The reason for this is that we have given ourselves permission to raise our children in a way that brings them into the things we love and value instead of pushing those aside and filling the void with prefabricated activities.

I want my children to be deeply connected to us. I want them to look back at photos of us in Delft and remember the day we spent seeing and recreating my favorite painting. When they recognize a Matisse cutout, I want them to laugh again at my giddiness seeing a chapel he designed on a hillside.

When they hear a Spanish or French or Arabic or Chinese or German phrase, I hope they’ll be transported back to sitting on the couch by Jeff as he poured through language lessons in preparation for a trip. I want them to see a flag fluttering and recall laying on the ground in their room learning about the origins of country’s flags and their geographical patterns.

I hope they’ll use “It’s all up for me, Moriah!” to defuse tense situations and send everyone into fits of laughter. That they’ll remember Callan rhymes with Balin and Dwalin, but the real hero is a simple little hobbit. And most of all, that even the most hopeless Edmunds can be redeemed.

I want them to be able to walk into a church and immediately feel at home with the images and smells that filled their childhood. To be able to quietly recite the prayers and responses regardless of the language of the officiant.

I hope they’ll remember that a Monarch is found on milkweed and their favorite trees are Beech trees, just like Jane Goodall. That they’ll choose to notice the subtle and explosive changes that beautifully mark the transition of seasons.

We share these things with our children because these are the things we value. We want to show them that a life filled with curiosity, challenge, thirst for knowledge, and appreciation of beauty is a life of purpose that brings joy.

Their souls are not ours, and it is unlikely that they will develop all of the same passions that we have. What I hope we impart is the importance of prioritizing the things they value most, the freedom to be joyful in life, and the recognition that they were made for the things that fill their soul.