Her teachers had cleverly used chocolate in their first practice, so of course, all the kids were into it.
They sat in a quiet circle, closed their eyes, and took as long as they could to suck on a piece of chocolate and really focus on what they could smell, hear, taste and feel.
A week or so later I had given the kids a piece of chocolate each - in between stealth missions to the pantry where I was sneaking a lot of it.
Our girl put hers in her mouth.
Quite some time later, she announced: "I'm eating my chocolate mindfully, Mumma."
Are you, Darling? That's great. I'm chewing and swallowing mine like it's popcorn to suppress some strong emotions because I can't handle you or your brother. The joy they get out of one piece and I'm sitting there smashing rows!
My mindfulness told me I was a pig. (Note: You're not mean to be judgey when you're mindful so I mostly fail at it).
Lately, it's our son, 4, who's been coming home and expressing his emotions thanks to whatever they've taught him at daycare.
We were sitting at the kitchen bench having breakfast and our girl had drawn a picture of our family. Cruelly and deliberately, she had excluded her little brother.
"That's not wewwy nice," he cried at me, big blue eyes filling with tears. "She drew she's picture and it made me sad and doesn't fill my bucket." (I don't have the heart to correct his grammar because his mistakes make love hearts fly out my eyes).
It stopped me in my tracks. I asked if they had been learning about buckets at daycare and if it was a pretend bucket. One that's full when you're happy and empty when you are not. He confirmed that it was. Bless.
I tried to do a bucket analogy where I agreed it must not feel very nice but explained how it is up to each of us to fill our own bucket and not rely on anyone else to fill it.
My mental imagery had fast-forwarded to him in his 30s, in a darkened room in our house, still waiting for someone to fill his bucket. Ugh.
But there's only so much you can tell a kid.
Over the next few weeks, he became increasingly defiant as the 4-year-old in him really started to flourish.
"She doesn't fill anyone's bucket!" he shouts about his sister, who often does something to upset him.
"You're not filling my bucket!" he'll shout at me, whenever I say no to anything.
If I say no to chocolate for breakfast, I get complaints about his bucket.
Quite frankly, I want to kick his bucket some days.
Do you want to know what you and your sister did to MY bucket? My bucket's got stress fractures and the handle snapped!
This week we had the best one. It was so innocently brutal.
We were leaving for school. The kids had been arguing and as we drove out the driveway, my girl said she didn't like her brother and announced the reason why:
"He's a Bucket Dipper."
I suspect Harold the Giraffe or someone taught her this term.
After last year's Harold the Giraffe session, she came home and said:
"YOU'RE a bully!" because I'd asked her multiple times to tidy her room.
It's great we're teaching kids to get in touch with and express their emotions. Really, it is.
But some of their emotions are still completely maddening, whether they express them or not.
