From the Deep

{In an effort to blog more frequently, I’m going to intersperse some personal thoughts amid my series on Why Coaching Works for the Gifted.}

Raising gifted children can challenge me to my core. Just last night I had to don my referee uniform and whistle, and mediate a conflict between my two gifted, highly sensitive children whose minds race with arguments against each other. I experience the angst of a mom who has her kids in the best school available for her children, and still sees some of their needs going unmet. I absorb the struggles of my perfectionist and procrastinatory children (I’ll leave you to guess which is which!).

And I complain. I share my frustrations with other parents of gifted kids, and listen to theirs.

Do I stop to celebrate the joys?

Today, ESGK (my thirteen-year-old son) won first place in the Physics: Force and Motion category of his school’s science fair. I cannot adequately express how proud I am of him. After three years of wrestling with science fair projects, he has garnered well-deserved accolades. He’s smart, creative, and analytical. He worked hard, sometimes well into the wee hours of the morning (OK, that wasn’t absolutely necessary. Now you know which of my kids is procrastinatory!). And he earned himself the blue ribbon.

I feel some discomfort broadcasting this news on the web. In my own history as a gifted child, my achievements earned me mixed attention. Praise was quickly followed by (frequently successful) attempts to knock me down a peg. And we parents of gifted children know that others don’t want to hear about our kids’ successes (or struggles). I’ve been well trained to keep my mouth shut.

Well, no more! Today is a day for celebration and acknowledgment! So, way to go, ESGK! I’m so proud of you, I love you so much, and you have a brilliant future ahead of you!

And to all of us parents of gifted children, may we celebrate the victories. We and our kids deserve it!

©2010 Lisa Lauffer

I clicked “Send,” and the party began. I’d just submitted a piece of editing work that had dogged me for months. I had no deadline, so the project hung over my head as I dealt with more urgent tasks such as taking care of my kids, blogging, and watching “Whose Line” reruns. Finally, in an effort to rid myself of the burden, I’d committed myself to work on this project a couple of hours each week, and today, the deed was done. I attached the manuscript to an e-mail, and happily sent it on its way.

Then the party started. I felt jubilant inside and needed to do a victory dance. However, dancing alone in my office just didn’t cut it. I needed an audience. No, I needed companions, witnesses. So I sent out a tweet on Twitter: “Just sent off the Powerful Conversations Course to its next destination! And now for a little victory dance!” Even that seemed a little anemic. So I started inviting dance song requests. As responses came in, I played the songs on iTunes and danced to them, sending out a tweet to the person who requested it dedicating that dance to her. I felt so happy and grateful that I had my friends joining in my joy, laughing along with me, and participating in the craziness.

As a life coach, I notice that many of my clients struggle with celebration. I understand them, because I struggle with it too! I’m not sure why. I think most of my clients tend to be highly intelligent people, people who achieve a lot, and for whom celebration comes hard because it feels like celebration should be saved for big occasions. I’m all for celebrating big occasions! A wedding, a birthday party, the beginning of a new year, and completing a projects all deserve celebration.

But big celebrations are few and far between. Where’s the joy in the everyday? What about the small victories in life? What about making lunches for the kids? Making it through a boring meeting? Getting the grocery shopping done? So much drudgery. Where is the light?

I used to make fun of athletes who’d do a victory dance after achieving what boiled down to doing their job. They’d make a tackle, then dance their carefully choreographed moves. I used to equate that to making a photocopy on the Xerox machine. I’d place the paper on the glass, press the copy button, then do my own dance. But I was making fun, not joining in.

I know that football players now receive penalties for any kind of organized celebrating, and I understand why. It takes time. The game drags because of it. But you know what, I’m no longer certain that celebrating the more mundane plays is a bad thing. Perhaps we need to add more time into our days for just such acknowledgement.

After all, life is hard. It’s hard for everyone. As parents of gifted children, we face many struggles. Sometimes just getting our kids out the door to run errands or go to school is a victory. Have you ever felt like that? I sure have. And we face those trials constantly. We expend massive amounts of energy trying to strategize our days so they run as smoothly as they possibly can, and even still events converge to thwart us (such as trying to finish this blog post while my daughter blithely–and loudly–sings “B-I-N-G-0″ instead of doing her homework.) So when we achieve something simple or an activity goes exceptionally easy for us, whether big or small, wouldn’t it be worth a momentary celebration, a little victory dance?

Hey, I just finished this post! I’m taking requests…