Friday Fieldwork: The Smell of Self-Awareness
I didn’t expect a sour sippy cup to lead me to self-awareness.
But that’s exactly what happened.
It started with a smell.
Faint at first, then undeniable.
The kind that makes you pause mid-sentence and say, “What… is… that?”
I found it under the backseat — a rogue cup that had once held milk and now held only regret.
But this isn’t about the cup.
Not really.
It’s about what it revealed.
Because once I found it, I realized:
I’d been driving around with that mess for days.
Unnoticed. Unchecked.
Too busy, too distracted, too in-my-head to smell what was rotting right behind me.
And it made me wonder:
What else am I missing?
Not just in my car.
In my house.
In my relationships.
In my kids.
The stories I nod through while checking my phone.
The feelings I gloss over because I’m on my fourth Zoom of the day.
The bedtime hug I skip because there’s still laundry and lunchboxes and leftover emails.
Sometimes I don’t notice how much I’ve disconnected… until something gross drags me back to reality.
Here’s what I’m learning:
Presence isn’t about perfection.
It’s about noticing.
Noticing when something feels off.
Noticing the little signs of what I’ve been carrying… or avoiding.
Noticing what my kids are trying to tell me — even when they don’t have the words yet.
That cup?
Disgusting.
But also? Grace.
It reminded me to slow down.
To check the corners.
To ask better questions — to my kids, and to myself.
Sometimes, the mess is the invitation - not the problem.
The problem is pretending you don’t see it.
🧠 Try This During:
A slow Saturday morning
A car ride to practice
Folding laundry or doing dishes with one of your kids
🛠️ Examples:
Ask: “What’s something you’ve been thinking about that I haven’t asked you?”
Let them share something random — even if it feels silly or small
Say: “I want to get better at noticing what’s going on with you. Help me out.”
🔍 Why It Matters:
Presence starts with paying attention.
And our kids can feel when they’re being seen — and when they’re being skimmed past.
The little moments matter.
They’re the ones that build trust.
🧪 Fieldwork Prompt:
This weekend, pause and ask your kid:
“What’s something I might’ve missed this week — in you, or in me?”
Then listen.
Not to fix.
Not to defend.
Just to see them.
You might be surprised what comes up…
And what clears out when you finally notice the stink.
