Hello, Visitors

Hoping for a teeny bit of a bump in my number of visitors this week as I am taking a technology in the classroom course for my "real" job.

So...

Little Doll

Papa M.'s new baby, to be given at Christmas. (Ordered from this Etsy shop - fabulous craftsmanship and customer service.)

 
If I had a dream for the world it would be that every child, girl or boy, should have a doll. There is something exceptionally special about those soft little beings made solely to be loved by a child. There is so much to be learned from caring for someone else, even if that someone is made of cloth or plastic. You find your empathy, caring for a doll, at it's deepest roots, because, no matter how good your imagination is, at your core you still know that even if you don't wrap Dolly up tight or you forget to give him his afternoon snack, Dolly won't freeze and certainly won't go hungry. Yet, it's still done, often with a great sense of urgency and seriousness. What vast wells of love must we doll caregivers have to love so mightily someone who doesn't really need us and will never be able to audibly thank us?

If everyone played with a doll there might be more of that empathy growing around us, rampant like dandelions in the height of spring, left to be plucked up and enjoyed by every passing person, gathered in bunches, worn in hair, handed in clumps to anyone we think might need it. If all little children had their own cloth companion to clutch, to whisper secrets to, to bring on adventures, we might invite the idea of companionship into our children's heads. It is a good thing to have a friend who listens to you and holds your words with silence and honor and trusts you to do the same.

If I could, I would be sure all children, girl or boy, felt no shame in wanting a doll. There is no right gender for a doll, nor is there no right age. There is not one doll that is better than another, whether it is the mama-made-with-love rag doll or the beautifully detailed store-bought doll. All dolls are just what they ought to be for whom they belong, just as we, those who love those dolls, are just as we ought to be for them.

Thankful

Our Thankful Jar, autumnal decor, and one of my favorite Thanksgiving books, a book of poems by Jack Perlutsky.

 My absolute favorite time of year is here! I live or the time between early November and New Year. The crisp air, the first snowflakes and then snow storms, Election Day (even when the results are less than desirable...), and all the fun family time, cozied up in our little house. All the very best things come during this time of year and I'm so pleased it's finally underway.

One of my favorite parts of November is our Thankful Jar tradition. I wrote a bit about this last year, but I wanted to re-share a bit this year and show you this year's word cloud. 

You see, what we've done each year since 2009 (!) is fill our lovely glass pumpkin jar with something we're thankful for each day. On Thanksgiving night my husband and I take turns reading what we all wrote. It's been especially fun this time because E. is able to write her notes herself, so while in years past I've known what she's thankful for each day, this year it'll be a surprise when we read our thankful notes aloud. 

This year I made our word cloud using Tagxedo from last year's notes. While I usually use all the previous years' notes I was very disappointed that I could not find the envelop I had put them all in! Hopefully in the massive house cleaning and organizing I have planned for after Christmas will churn them up - it would be awful to lose four years worth of notes!

The beauty of the word cloud is that it truly highlights what our family is most thankful for in a fun and creative (but totally easy) way. It also has worked really well in a classroom setting and provided kiddos with a great product to go home with to show their families (we did this in my special ed classroom a couple of years ago, to great success).

Of all our holiday traditions (and there seem to be more brewing each year), this one is my favorite. It's quiet and thoughtful, no treats or loud exclamations, but simply a moment or two out of each day to think outside of oneself and wonder at what has made that day particularly exceptional.

A Perfect Sunday

Every once in a while life hands us a perfect day. This is just a little glimpse of ours.

Breakfast at Melby's in Waterford, ME, waiting for the snow to fly.

Patiently awaiting his muffin. Food is the only thing that keeps this kid in his seat.

Happy, happy, happy!

Just a little bit of snow. We are waiting for more!

Pure joy and energy.

Watching the Pats cream Denver!

The Crush

From the moment I cracked open and devoured Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone I could not wait for the day I would have a kid with whom to read it. I imagined us snuggled together in bed, my little one rapt with attention as we flipped page after page, neither one of us wanting to stop. I could not wait for the anticipation for the next book (I even considered making my child wait a year between each read, because, after all, I did, sometimes even longer!).

This summer we attempted the first book because E. had expressed some interest when she saw me rereading The Order of the Pheonix over the summer (she also wanted to read Outlander by Diana Gabaldon because my mom was reading it, but we decided we'd better save the sexy Scottish warriors for another time). After learning within the first chapter that the heroic boy wizard had been orphaned as a baby (not much younger than her own little brother) she needed to stop. It just wasn't fair! She had said. How could that happen? So, we stopped, and I wondered if this initial read was just too soon and feared that it would prevent her from ever wanting to try to read the series again.

But then, something wonderful happened. E. made a friend at school and that friend loved Harry Potter (so much so, I heard, that she is going to be Harry for Halloween this year). This, and the fact that there is a movie I will not let her see until she has read the book with me, prompted E. to beg me to start reading The Sorcerer's Stone once again. With a little reluctance, afraid I would really ruin it this time, I started the book again.

And she's loving it.

We're on our way to Hogwarts as we speak and she is thrilled or chilled by each character she meets. She thinks Hagrid is sweet, the Dursley's are vile, and she's already picked up on Draco Malfoy's general awfulness. But most of all, she is absolutely enamored with Harry. And who wouldn't be - he's a kind, humble boy who has a sense of justice. Who wouldn't admire a person like that?

Today, at the doctor's office, she got to pick a sticker, per usual. I spotted a sticker with Harry and Hermoine on it and pointed it out. Immediately, E. snatched up and told the nurse who had been offering the stickers that she was reading Harry Potter and loved Harry (the book, she meant, of course). Later that day, she came downstairs, a bashful grin on her face.
"Mama," she said. "I kissed Harry Potter on my sticker."
My, oh my, what have I done?

It's That Time of Year

A lot of people (including myself, sometimes), lament the seasonal rushing that comes this time of year. Early in the fall, or even late summer, just as we're trying to drag on those last days of languorous sunlight, jack o' lanterns and witches and ghosts begin to appear on store shelves along with massive backs of orange and black candies. It's hard to believe there will be a time for such things when it's still warm enough to swim and you can't quite tell when to bring the cooler weather clothes down from the attic. But just as soon, just as mysteriously, those witches and ghosts disappear from the shelves (even before their counterparts have had a chance to walk the streets with ghoulish delight) and are replaced with shiny gold and red baubles, green tinsel, and images of the jolliest of men. The leaves are still falling from the trees, pumpkins still line steps, and nary a turkey has graced the table, but be damned if you do not immediately start thinking of snow and humming "Jingle Bells."

I am of two minds this time of year. First there is the thought, What on earth is the rush? If we spend two months celebrating the coming of Jesus, Santa and his elves, peace on earth and goodwill toward men, and the Elf on the Shelf, then by December 25th, aren't we going to be thoroughly sick of it all? I do believe there is an Elmo Christmas special from way back that makes this almost exact point: Elmo wishes it could be Christmas every day and, through the magic of a Muppet reindeer, is able to make that wish come true. As it turns out, spending an extended amount of time celebrating Christmas drains everyone of the excitement of the season, making it as thoroughly unspecial as a Tuesday in March. 

I say all this, and I am sure many who read this will agree with my sentiments, but as I type I can just see the cover of Truth in the Tinsel PDF hiding behind this open window on my computer screen. I have already checked Amazon and Etsy to track my orders of Christmas gifts twice this morning. And I have (I say this with a hung head) already played Christmas music (Granted! My mom and I are currently writing a children's Christmas story - more on that another time - and playing a little bit of Bing Crosby gets the creative juices flowing). As much as I want to put the breaks on all things Christmas, I can't help but feel a tiny bit of glee in the bottom of my stomach as I spot Christmas stockings for sale in local stores.

With Halloween coming at the end of this week, I'm finding myself feeling slightly bereft of sprightly Halloweeny spirit. I'm afraid my hankering for red and green lights and Christmas tunes has gotten in the way of enjoying the other two holidays that come before that most wonderful time of the year. I don't want it to be like that! I want to be excited to don my spider web earring and take E. and M. trick or treating. I want to sit down and feel thoroughly enchanted by Sparkle Stories sweet and only slightly spooky stories (we just listened to the Switch Witch this weekend and loved it). I want to think beyond all the wonderful handfuls of candy I know I'm going to eat Friday night (especially if the Switch Witch does make an appearance at our house...she may have to, depending on how much my husband and I eat).

The question I end up asking myself is how in sync do I want to be with the rhythm of the seasons and with my family? Thankfully, my littles are still thoroughly engrossed with what's just ahead of them that real thoughts about Christmas haven't entered their heads. I want to be where they are, excited about what's just ahead and instead of spending all my time looking just down the road. I do that naturally, it's in my temperament (and makes me completely Pisces), but with small children, when everything moves so damn fast to begin with, it does me little good to stretch my neck out and stare down the road ahead of me in this part of my life. So, I'm taking a step back from Christmas and asking myself the same question I have silently asked others - What *is* the rush?

Cooking Lessons

Over the summer, during a brief appearance back here on the blog, I mentioned that I had spoken with my dietician about binge eating disorder (BED), something that she and I both felt I was dealing with, though, thankfully, not to an extreme degree. Since then I've done some reading, some pinning, and started (and then stopped) a blog about dealing with my food issues. All have been helpful, but not terribly proactive. I'm super awesome at figuring out what's wrong, but I'm terrible at fixing it, even when I'm presented with a slew of great solutions.

I'm trying to move away from passivity in my actions towards activity. Number one on my list, because it's the most exciting to me, is to start trying to cook well. I will be the first to admit that I am a sub par cook at best. In theory, like a lot of things with me, I love the idea of cooking, to create something with love and is also delicious. But the temperament required for cooking well, I think, is not well suited to mine - patient, detail-oriented (good cooks) vs. impatient, day-dreamy and scattered (me). Throw two young children into the mix and my fall back meals of pizza (granted, it's homemade) and spaghetti start to make a bit more sense.

I think that if I am able to cook quality food for myself and my family a few other things will fall into place to help me discover more appropriate eating habits. Of course, I'm also reading the BED version of Love What You Eat, Eat What You Love by Dr. Michelle May and should probably start implementing the suggestions she makes in there, but thinking about food is way easier.

My goal here isn't necessarily to make healthier foods (though, I want to and really need to back off the breads and pastas), but to put effort and care into what I make so I can enjoy the whole food experience, allowing the emotions that go with the experience replace some of the emotion behind over eating/binge eating. One of the major issues a person who deals with BED has is eating mindlessly and too quickly. The food isn't really the centerpiece, but the relief of whatever negative feeling you have. By giving myself the gift of time and effort to create a meal that needs to really be enjoyed, I start to shift how I look at the food and how the food is used.

From hapless cook to master chef! (And yes, I do own two ice cream scoops, and I had planned to do this picture with our ice cream...but I ate it.)

So, this is my seven step plan of execution, because we always need a plan, right?

1. Pick a day or night when I know my husband will be home and not exhausted from work. 
2. Pick a recipe that is challenging, but won't overwhelm me. Read the whole thing through to make sure I have everything I need.
3. Make sure the kitchen is clean so I don't get distracted by cleaning and can focus on the food and relax. 
4. Have the hubs take the kids out or down to the den for some daddy time so I can focus.
5. Drink some wine. 
6. Eat the delicious meal I will cook with my family, consciously and slowly. 
7. Repeat once a week.

My hope is that as I get more experience under my belt (or my kids get a little bit older), I will be able to do this more than once a week. Regardless of when I do this "special" cooking, my hope is that the lessons I learn from cooking and eating mindfully will come to mind every time I sit down to eat, not just during those weekly meals. 

P.S. Here's a link to my "Cooking Lessons" pinterest board. It has the start of some basic, multi-purpose recipes and different techniques and free, online cooking lessons.

Evolution

I've been thinking today, thinking about what I'm going to write.

I read an article about the brain development of 20 somethings.

I thought about the origins of my motherhood.

I considered my love/hate relationship with labels when applied to people. (I did realize I'm okay when labels are applied to things. I would prefer to not, you know, drink poison or something.)

I have grappled with self-identity.

And what have I come away with? Motherhood, like life itself, is a beautiful evolution.

A long time ago, but really not that long ago at all, when E. was a baby, I did something kind of foolish. I honestly don't remember what it was, but my husband called me out on it. My response: "My brain is still developing - you can't expect me to always make good decisions!" My brain, like my motherhood, has been evolving. And it's that biological evolution that has fueled, in part, the changes in how I mother my children.

I've always been upfront with the many disadvantages of having kids young. There is just so much risk to everything in your life - your finances, your relationships, your sanity (though, I suppose that's up for grabs no matter when you have kids), but there are advantages, too. One of the absolute coolest things about spending your early twenties amongst the wee ones is seeing how much you change, how quickly and how drastically. I am not the person I was seven years ago, when I was pregnant with E. And, of course, most people change a lot in seven years, especially moving from 19 to twenty-six, but that change only grows exponentially when you throw children into the mix.


I moved from a neanderthal living in a cave, in terms of self-awareness and understanding, to something resembling an evolved human being. I might still be living in the Dark Ages, fighting to reach my Renaissance, but I'm moving forward and I'm starting to like what I see in myself.

I thought this was interesting (it's from that article I mentioned above) -

[Geid] and his colleagues plan to compare the brain development of girls who become pregnant in their teens to girls who do not. “Teen pregnancy changes all your priorities and what you do with your time—how do those experiences change the brain?” Arnett agrees that such neuroimaging studies would be useful. “Even in industrialized countries, a lot of people still get married pretty early. You could do brain studies comparing people who experience their twenties differently and contrast how their brains develop.”

To give some context, right before the quote above, the article's author poses this question: "Should parents encourage their 20-year-olds to shirk adult responsibilities lest they hamper an advantageous period of self-discovery and wild experimentation?"

I bring up these quotes because while they don't directly contrast my feelings that having children compounds the evolution a person takes on between the beginning of young adulthood and the end, it seems to challenge it. Basically, the article implies that because a person who chooses to take on "adult responsibilities" (i.e. family of her own, real job, etc.) they are unable to participate in a period of "self-discovery" and "wild experimentation."

You find out what you're made of when you are confronted with a challenge, particularly one that involves taking another person's life into your hands. While maybe it doesn't feel that way all the time, because, in the 21st century world, the stakes can be much lower, becoming a parent means you make sure your little person doesn't accidentally off themselves or get eaten by a wild animal in your backyard (genuine concern here in Maine). With that and any myriad of potential cultural issues to concern yourself with, parenting is precisely what the article suggests twenty-somethings need to help their brains expand! (You tell me spending five nights in a row trying to both calm a colicky baby and then figure out whenever you're going to have sex with your husband again isn't wild experimentation!)

Having my kids, being married to my husband, going to my awesome job - those have forced me to change, molded my brain and my body in ways that nothing else could have. And the more I interact with these forces of will and love the more I love the person I am becoming. Yes, sometimes I sit back and I wonder about what my life would look like if I had made different choices, and I still see a good life, a happy life, but it's not this life. I can also see humans evolving to the point where they have mutant powers and can bend time with their psychic powers (#nerd), but I'm not going to lament over the fact that it hasn't happened (yet), as totally awesome as that would be.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a primordial tail to ditch and some prefrontal cortext to develop.*

*Totally just throwing those words out there. I'm not sure if I even know what they mean.  

Dear Lewiston

Dear Lewiston, Maine,

You have not always been my favorite place. You're a bit drab, a bit run down, and tend to be the butt of a lot of unflattering jokes.

I'll be honest - I've been a bit of a snob when it comes to you, Lewiston. But I think I can change. I think we can change together. After all it was from you my husband came, and as much as I'd like to give him back sometimes, in the end, I love him and I appreciate all the cultural charm you've given him, like his really weird Maine/French-Canadian accent.

What's more, I am starting discover your charms. Tonight, for example, I enjoyed a really incredible dinner at one of your local restaurants and there were no french fries or lobster rolls in sight. And what was in sight was a delightful mixed bag (at least for Maine) of people, types of people who I do not get to see every day in our neck of the woods. I had never fully appreciated that about you Lewiston - you house a fascinating collage of folks who I do not meet and experience life with every day.

So, I guess what I'm trying to say, Lewiston, is that I'm sorry and I am, if you are, willing to give it another go.

What do you say?

My View

I don't often feel spoiled (though perhaps I ought to - I have a pretty wonderful life). I have my moments of peeking in on others' lives, often through social media or blogs, and a streak of jealousy runs through me, often accompanied with the thought, "If only we had a little more [fill in the blank]." That is usually followed by a dose of guilt, realizing that it's really not cute to covet what others have and to realize that the grass is always greener and that I really ought to appreciate what things I do have, which are many and good.

But goodness, sometimes it's nice to feel like you have something very special, something that not everyone can have. And this, this is what I have:

A stumbled upon lake while out on a going-to-nowhere drive.

A misty morning just outside of my parents' house.

Oh, the hills! An everyday delight.

Of course, anyone who travels to or lives in  Maine can see these beautiful places and claim them as their own. But there is something about these places that make my heart ring. I feel special for knowing them, some intimately and others just in passing. I do not own many things that are of great value or beauty, but I have these places which spoil my need for nature and beauty so. I have the view.

Coming Home

'Tis the season for me to return to the blogging world. I feel like (and this could be totally off) that I tend to turn introspective in the summer, particularly as we hit that midway point, where the return to school and slew of autumn busyness is within view. I've been off on a bit of an intentional hiatus, trying to decide if I really want to maintain a blog.

I love the idea of a blog, and there are so many that I love to read. I follow the blogs of strangers, of friends, of those who's views on life are so similar to my own, and of those who I frequently find myself saying, "No, no, no!" to their posts, yet still want to read more (that takes real skill, man). I think these are my magazines, with their stories and photos and occasional how-tos and clever DIYs. And I love the interaction. Because, a magazine does not necessarily allow you close and personal access to the journalist and editor, but a blog can incite conversation and potentially ignite a friendship or realize an unforeseen kinship.

However, if you're going to keep a blog (and not simply read and drool over all the pretties in other people's lives), there is a certain amount of work that's involved and there needs to be a point (this, of course, is just my opinion and my vision if I'm the one keeping the blog). For a long time, as I've kept this blog and others, I've written my posts, taken my pictures, and just generally gone along while thinking of other blogs I'd seen and liked.

Naturally, there's bound to be some sort of influence or inspiration, but it's very difficult to keep something so personal all the while thinking of another person's work. It's a bit like being married to one man, but imagining you're married to another - you go through the motions and it seems like a marriage, but in the end it's all just an act and you aren't being true to yourself or your partner. And while I wasn't being fully true to myself, I wasn't being entirely honest with the (very few) people who read this blog and I was still dissatisfied with what I wrote.

So, I'm going to come back to my blog, but I'm going to relax, I'm going to write about whatever I want, and though I will still admire the blogs I love, rather than taking away the "what" from their blogs, I will walk away with the "why". They blog to record the things, places, and people they love. I will, too.

Long Time, No See, But...

It's been a while, so let's jump in with something big, shall we?

I have been going to see a nutritionist, Dona, since 2012. I was at my heaviest then, a weight too embarrassing to share publicly. Between January 2012 and May 2012, I lost roughly forty pounds. It wasn't everything I needed to lose, by a long shot, but it was a great start. That May, I got pregnant with M. and trying to lose weight went out the window. I did try to continue to eat well, but pregnancy sure was a good excuse to overindulge (I thought).

After M. was born, I obviously wanted to lose the baby weight and get back on track with healthier eating. Off and on I would go through spurts of really trying to watch what I ate, going to see Dona regularly, and just generally being "good" about what I ate. And then I would go through bouts of total food annihilation. No foods (except for maybe veggies) were safe. I would eat and eat and eat. Maybe there would be a "good" day in between, but generally my eating habits sucked. Finally, enough days would go by where I felt like total crap when I went to bed, stomach too full to get comfortable, and the scale tipping just ways too far in the wrong direction. Then I would feel very guilty - not too guilty, mind you, because I am excellent at rationalizing the things I do to avoid that very feeling - but still, that nasty turn of the stomach feeling would sneak in.

Once that unsettling feeling of guilt finally got to me, I would lay awake at night and promise myself and the ethos that the next day would be better. I would call Dona and make an appointment (because, you see, I had already missed two). I would go for that run that I said I would do for the last two weeks. I would make sure I ate better. I. Would. Be. Good.

And then I would be "good". And then I would be "bad" again. And my weight? Well, luckily for me, it stayed roughly the same, until very recently, where in the last two months I gained about five pounds, then lost it and another ten with it (more on that later).

I ask you to notice two things about what I just wrote. First, note my focus on why I wanted to do better with my eating. Weight-loss. Now, I could write a whole post (and maybe I will) on the media and pop culture and women who are bigger than allowed by their standards, but for now I will say that I am like almost any other warm blooded American women in that I see these "standards" in which I am expected to live up and they scare me into thinking I better start laying off the cupcakes and doing that thirty-day ab challenge a bunch of my Facebook friends are doing. And, that's not to say that eating fewer cupcakes or doing crunches is a bad thing, because it's certainly not, but when it's not coming from an emotionally healthy place the results that come will likely soon be erased.

That brings me to the second thing I want you to see - my cycle. My cycle of "binge, repent, repeat" (Dr. Michelle May) is something I've done for as long as I can remember, though I never realized what a problem it was until I was older, just as I was starting to see Dona. I looked at it very distinctly as being "good" versus being "bad". The quotes around these words, by the way, aren't there for some weird, pretentious reason. They're there to highlight that the terms good and bad are very subjective here. I'm not out to actively harm myself when I eat poorly, though I surely am. And, to be honest, when I eat well, the reasons aren't always good ones (like improved health, better performance when I run, or longevity so I can enjoy my family for as long as possible).

These two things are just parts of the multifaceted puzzle that makes up binge-eating disorder, a disorder with which I've been tentatively identified.

A definition from the Binge Eating Disorder Association:
Binge eating disorder is characterized by recurring episodes of binge eating, feeling out of control while binging, and feeling guilt and shame afterward.

I can imagine some reading this and thinking, "Geez, why can't the fatty just stop eating? It's her own fault." And there isn't a whole lot I can say to counter that, because, on some level, I agree. But, the truth is, I can't "just stop" binging. It's my source of comfort when everything else around me feels out of control or fills me with anxiety. It's my cigarette, my beer, my opiate. Food is my drug*. There are chemical and emotional strings attached to every bite I take, and while I do not withdraw ownership over many of the food choices I make, both good and bad, each choice is tinged with this unhealthy relationship, which I have not chosen to have.

I'll end this by saying I'm not under any allusions that this is the same as a heroin addiction or will devastate my body and family in the same fashion as something like bulimia or anorexia, but it is a battle, my battle, and one that is long overdue.  



*And in fact, one of the risk factors of having binge-eating disorder is previous addictions.

Breakfast of Champions

Hit with inspiration this morning as I was making myself some breakfast, I came up with a new little sugar free, yet still sweet, treat for myself. Of course, I wouldn't be shocked if someone else has already devised this idea, considering it's based on something else I know I've seen on Pinterest dozens of times, but I haven't seen quite this version yet and as I'm a bit enamored with it, I thought I'd share.

So, who doesn't like ice cream for breakfast? Or, at least, maybe you like the idea of ice cream for breakfast, but you're trying to be good. Well, I've found your way out - you can have your frosty treat this morning and have your healthy day, too. This is my all too easy recipe for a yummy, filling, and healthful Breakfast Ice Cream.

Ingredients:
(Note: I'm not very good about measuring out ingredients, so all measurements, except for the bananas, are rough approximates. Eyeball to your own taste.)

2 frozen bananas
1/4 old fashioned oats
1/4 cup nut butter (I used organic peanut butter)
2-3 Tbs. of milk (I used almond milk and you could use any liquid you think might work/taste good, even water)

Directions:
1.) Under hot water, rinse your bananas until just slightly defrosted, but still pretty hard (you want to be able to get the peals off relatively easily, but that's it).

2.) Add bananas and oats to a blender or food processor. Blend until well mixed.

3.) Add milk and peanut butter. Blend until the mixture has a soft serve ice cream consistency.

4.) Spoon into a bowl and enjoy!

Personalize it!
Bananas are naturally very sweet, so you can easily add cocoa powder without additional sweetener and have a chocolate-y ice cream. Or leave out the nut butter out and add different fruits or nuts (or seeds, like chia or flax) or spices (Ooh! Freeze some pumpkin puree, add that and some nutmeg and cinnamon - that would be so delicious!).

Quick note on the ingredients: 
So, I chose my ingredients for specific reasons, not just willy-nilly, here's why:

Bananas - these add a really nice, ice cream-like texture. Plus, they're healthy and sweet!

Nut butter - I love nut butters, especially peanut butter, so there's that, but there is also the extra oomph of protein and healthy fats that help boost your energy first thing in the morning.

Oats - Compared to some other carbs, they have a lower Glycemic Index rating, so they release sugar more slowly into your body, so you're not going to crash and you'll not hungry as quickly. Plus, oats are packed with wonderful nutrients, like iron, folic acid (Hey pregnant mamas! Get your ice cream fix this way!), and calcium. PLUS, if you're a nursing mama like me, oats have been attributed to boosting milk supply (this is a great article on KellyMom explaining the thoughts behind why). When I eat something with oats in it every morning (like a cereal/oatmeal or a smoothie) my supply usually gets a really good boost. If you're not a fan of oatmeal, this might be a nice alternative.

Continental Drift

I feel like my life is like Pangea slowly shifting into the continents we know today. The changes come subtly, you hardly even notice them, but when you look at the map of life, things are so drastically different.

Kindergarten
I can't say I'm completely happy, but true to E.'s teacher's word, things took a turn for a better after February break. Mornings of agony have slowly dissipated and made room for eagerness and pleasure in all the new things E. has learned. I, of course, still have a great many issues regarding curriculum, various policies, and just a general malaise regarding what's to come in future years of school, but I've put it to bed as much as I can for now. E. is happy and that's all I could ask for...for now.

School, for me
Perhaps this is where you have the giant earthquake, the ground rumbling and rattling, volcanoes exploding, all in one quick rush. Just as suddenly as it began, it ends. The dust settles, a few species go extinct, and everything is totally different.

I've been hemming and hawing about what I was going to do with my future, feeling like I better you-know-what or get off the pot. (I think a lot of my fellow '11 grads are going through the same thing, or so my Facebook feed tells me.) I've always planned on getting my Master's, it was just a matter of...well, everything. I didn't know the when or where or what, or really even the how. After conversations with coworkers, my husband, and my mom, I decided two things.

One, I wanted a math certification. This came as a bit of a shock to me, as I never particularly enjoyed math in high school, but now, as an adult and since I've been teaching it a lot more lately, I feel like this is something a) I could competently do and b) enjoy doing. I've been told by a few people (and I realize they may have just been saying this to be supportive/nice) that my lack of enthusiasm regarding math when I was a teenager might be an asset as a math teacher.

Two, I still want to get my Master's. The thought process I'm following at the moment is that perhaps after I get my math cert I'll be teaching full time (hopefully with adult ed. - more on that in a bit) and the school district would be so kind as to pay for more courses. That said, I've also filled out a FAFSA form and submitted it. Later this spring I'll see what the financial aid gods have deigned to give me. If it's decent (i.e. not too many, if any, loans), I'll plan on taking courses this fall, likely a math and a graduate course. In the mean time, my district is paying for me to take a math course this summer, college algebra.

This all came about in less than a week, and while it's still not Grad School Far Away as I had been dreaming about, it feels good to be doing something specific that work towards my and my family's futures.

Food

I gave up sugar for Lent. I vaccilate between self-hatred for shouldering the burden of not getting to eat anything delicious for forty days and being immensely proud of myself for not eating anything delicious, despite cravings, grouchiness, some extra-long, frustrating days. Now that I'm about two weeks into it (with another three or so to go), things aren't so bad and I'm resigned to my plight. Do I fantasize about a huge bag of those crunchy, candy coated chocolate bags that Cadbury puts out this time of year? Yes, of course. But I'm surviving and haven't been driven mad for all the wanting and can't having. My hope, by the end of this trial of will and faith, that I will be able to more completely curb my appetite for sweet things as well as continue to make better choices about limiting pre-made sauces and other pre-packaged things that one wouldn't usually associate with sugar (Wasabi Peas? Really?!).

Work

Without going into too much detail (you know that's hard for me), because I could go on forever, things have shifted at work. I truly love my job. I like my students, I like my coworkers, and I like what I'm doing. I feel like I'm a part of the system, but I get to help remedy some of the issues I've begun to identify since I've stepped out of it as a student. (And by system, I don't mean the school system - I happen think we have a well-intended school district with compassionate and all-in-all good educators populating it. It's the modern American school system that needs the tremendous overhaul.)

Currently, I only teach two nights a week, and it's all very loosey goosey (which I rather like). Lately, those nights have been slow. Real slow. Which is okay, sometimes, but there's only so much busy work you can give yourself before you break out your knitting between helping your one or two students with math problems.

Finally, thankfully, we've had an influx of students and I finally have to actually teach something. I chose Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer. Initially, I chose it because I knew I had a mostly written unit from English Methods back in college. But now that I've gone back and started to reread the book (my third foray into Alaska along side Chris McCandless) and have gone over the bits of that unit that survive, I feel like this is a great choice for an adult ed. student. There's a lot about taking the unconventional path in life, going against what's expected of you by others and by society, and being sure you really think about your choices, otherwise things may not go as planned.

Writing

While I haven't been blogging much (thinking about it a lot, just not doing it), I have been writing. I'm finally writing fiction again (this is where you hear me singing "reunited and it feels so goooooood!"). I'm about thirty pages into something that might just turn into Something. I don't know yet. A part of me would love to just put it all out there as I write it, like on Tumblr or something, just to see what happens, but another part of me wants to hold on to it until it's done, revised and perfect, and then slowly allow a few close friends to read it. I'd love to find a community of writers, either online or in real life, but I'm not sure where to begin.

And these are my continents. Formally tangled together and now drifting apart, seperate sections of my life that I couldn't quite pick apart and organize finally moving to their new places on my map. Of course, as with any kind of continental drift, they could easily move once more, or come slamming back into each other.

T.V. Free...Life

It's been quiet around here lately. Not silent, not even very peaceful, really (How can peacefulness even be achieved with a rapidly moving one year old and adventurous five year old? If you have a secret, please pass it along.). But it's been quiet, nonetheless, and I think it's largely owed the absence of a screen. It's not as though we've gotten rid of our television, computer, or handheld devices - we simply haven't had them on much, particularly with the kids.

We love watching T.V. here. My husband and I have lots and lots of shows we love to watch. My husband is the type to start watching a two and half hour movie in the middle of the afternoon, simply because there isn't anything else he wants to do. There have been times where I felt like E. was getting way more than her fair share of television time, too, and had shows she just absolutely had to watch over and over (we have Netflix, so at least we've been able to avoid haven't specific times where she feels she MUST have the T.V. on). I never imagined that we would become a home where the T.V. is on as little as it is.

Here's how it usually happens: We all get up, have breakfast, clean up, play, go to school, if it's one of those days, play some more, get chores done, go outside, run an errand maybe, (lunch and snacks are thrown in here somewhere), prepare dinner, have dinner (we've been doing this by candlelight a lot lately, which just seems to keep everyone calm and pleasant during the meal). Somewhere around dinner time, either just before or just after, we watch about a half an hour of T.V. Some days we don't watch any at all. And E. is not asking for it, either.

This is a huge contrast to even just a few months ago (we've been slowly building towards this), when E. could easily watch two hours of television, if not more, in a day. And I realize that two hours is considered "okay", but I just couldn't fathom how E. sitting for those two hours, even if she wasn't doing it consecutively, even if she was getting lots of active time beyond, was healthy or "okay."

Why we started: After reading a lot on the effects of television on children's brain growth and the impact it has on their imaginary play and just being overall frustrated with her education, I decided it was time to limit T.V. as much as we possibly could so E. could have as much time to play, explore imaginatively, and discover of what she is capable, as possible.

And with a little one in the home and with T.V. not being recommended for children under two years, I knew I wanted to limit T.V. for his sake, too. This was also a habit I wanted entrenched by the time M. was of T.V. viewing age, because, and this is honestly just my opinion, backed up by nothing buy anecdotal evidence, I feel that boys are far more susceptible to media addiction. The men and boys in my family seem to have a real difficulty in pulling themselves away from the T.V. and their "devices", and I don't want that for M. If little T.V. is a habit in our household now, I think it will continue to be as he gets older.

How we started: I began by saying we would only have T.V. three times a day, around breakfast, around lunch, and around dinner. If E. asked for more, I had to stay pretty steadfast and say no. At first, it really wasn't easy, and there were plenty of times where I just wished I could give in and let her have it, but I didn't, and I'm really proud of that.

After a bit, I started saying no to T.V. in the morning during the school week. My excuse was, and this is partially true, was that it was preventing us from getting out the door on time. E. would have a really hard time stopping the show to go get ready. Eventually we started getting rid of T.V. in the mornings on the weekends, too.

Honestly, after we got rid of morning T.V., the rest came pretty easily. By setting the tone for the day with playing and working together, E. sort of forgot that there was T.V. to watch. Occasionally, she would ask to watch T.V. or a movie, and I could more easily make a judgement call about whether or not it was a good time, depending on how much screen time she'd had previously. Now that we watch T.V. so rarely, when E. asks to watch T.V. or a movie, I don't feel guilty and will happily put something on for her.

Unexpected Benefits: There are a couple of things that have cropped up since we started limiting T.V. One, I've started being able to watch T.V. with E. I've tried planning T.V. time, when we have it, for moments where I'm either in the room with her, prepping dinner or cleaning, or I can actually sit down and watch. It's nice to actually be able to enjoy what's being watched rather than using the T.V. as a babysitter.

Two, my husband, the lover of all things screen, big and small, has given up T.V. for Lent. Seriously. I think he realized if he wanted to watch T.V. while the kids are up, he was going to be banished to the basement. I wonder if perhaps he got a bit lonely down there all by himself while the rest of us are having fun above ground.

At this point we're in maintenance mode and fine-tuning here and there. I'm trying to cut back on my computer/tablet use and I've started keeping track of the days where we go without T.V. completely, just for fun. Do I someday hope we become a T.V. free family, and we can just get rid of the tube? Not really. I don't think T.V. is the root of all evil, I just think we can all be doing something else instead. But I do love my shows (thank goodness Scandal is back on!!) and there is nothing like a good family movie, but for the day to day? If we're mostly to completely free of screen time, I think we'll be all the better for it.

Art (in my house) and Crafts (I've learned how to make)

E.'s little mermaid friends. I've recently learned how to needle felt and these by far have been my best creations so far. They've joined a little woolen dolly, a very coloful penguin, and some wooly beads that might someday make on to a necklace. 

After having this two of these charm packs since November, I decided it was time to do something with a few of these squares. As a way to practice using my new sewing machine (which I'm still not so hot at), I sewed this together, then mounted it on some cardboard from an old cereal box. It's hanging in our upstairs hallway. 

Using some scraps of fabric from a quilt I made E. years ago, I made this little garland and hung it in our upstairs bay window just in time for Valentine's day (if you didn't notice, the fabric is cut out in the shape of little hearts). 

This is some artwork I did not create. I found it at a local shop and was matted by some friends of my mom's. I couldn't resist it, having a love for fairies and the little fairy girl reminded me so much of E. 

Here's a wider shot of one side of my favorite place in our house (that upstairs hallway I mentioned before). Just to the right is our big bay window. It's so lovely and bright here that it's hard to resist just coming up to sit and working on a project or read while the kids play.

Diapers

I've been cloth diapering for about a year now, so I thought I might pop in with a little report.

We started cloth diapering pretty soon after M. arrived. We had two types, Kawaii pocket diapers, recommended to me by my cousin (who was also kind enough to send me a few to check out before M. arrived and bought any) and gDiapers, which a friend gave me after she had used them with her little guy. The Kawaii diapers were definitely too large when M. was first born, even thought he tipped the scales at 9 lbs. 3 oz. I don't know what it is about newborns, because even when they're quite chunky, they're just so squooshy that nothing quite fits on them the way they're supposed to, or at least that's been my experience. And even though M. was big, it was mostly in his length, not his width, so all those little diapers, which don't fit quite as tightly as disposables, would fall right off his skinny butt.

But within about a month we were able to start using the gDiapers in conjunction with our very LARGE supply of 7th Generation diapers (my mom went a bit wild in that department, already suspecting that the cloth diapers would be just a bit too big at the start). For the most part, we enjoyed the gDiapers. They did the job pretty handily, were easy to care for, cute, and economical (we never did buy any of the disposable inserts, so these were entirely free to me). I had two complaints, one being I felt they leaked fairly easily. Some people swear by them, which leads me to believe that perhaps there was something wrong with how I was using them or maybe those folks don't mind a leaky diaper or their kids weren't heavy wetters. I also didn't like that they weren't one-size fits all. Had I really, really liked them, I would have had to buy medium and large versions of the diapers as well, and these babies ain't cheap. Most of the other brands of cloth diapers we explored were supposed to be good to go from the newborn stage (or around there, as we already explored) to potty training. I really liked the idea of only buying a batch of diapers once and being all set for a few years.

After a bit (maybe a month and a half), the little man was ready for the Kawaii diapers. I have really enjoyed these. They fit nicely, rarely ever leak, if at all (my older ones that have seen a bit of wear are the ones that leak, the ones I got new do not - I think it's because of the newer, more absorbent inserts). I have a hodge-podge of both snaps and velcro and I like both. I will say, the velcro are the ones that tend to leak a bit, and as I mentioned, that likely has something to do with the fact that the inserts I use with those are older and don't absorb as much as they once had. They're also a bit smaller. BUT, now that we're at the extra wiggly stage of diaper changes, those velcro tabs are a life saver. They make changes very quick and efficient. But I do love my snaps, even if they take a bit more time. They 're big and fluffy and come in lots of nice colors. From a purely asthetic standpoint, I do wish there were more color/print choices offered by Kawaii, but for the price point (a bit more than half compared to a few other, more well known brands that offer the similar designs and quality), I'll take what I can get.

I had really worried when I was pregnant with M. about whether or not cloth diapering would work for us. Every time I looked anything up I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information. Different types of diapers, different kinds of cleaners, different ways to clean them (A special attachment for my toilet? What?!), different types of materials, different combinations of materials... It was all so much and it amazed me that any mother would take on this seemingly impossible endeavor. But I was determined to at least give it a try.

I know a lot of people recommend taking a few kinds of diapers and trying them out and then making a big purchase of the kind that works best for you. I guess I'm not that kind of person. I had one kind recommended to me and I just sort of went with it. Pocket diapers made the most sense to me, both in terms of use and in the amount of money they cost. I figured I would make whatever I had work. If you're the type of person who will power through what you've got, then I honestly make the suggesting of researching as much as you possibly can, talking to other moms, thinking about your lifestyle and laundry habits, and then just go ahead and order the type of diapers you think will work best rather than fussing with all these different types and overwhelming yourself with choices and then having to remember to order more diapers while in the midst of having a newborn.

Another thing about cloth diapering that I found at first overwhelming and now rather interesting is the care of cloth diapers. They seemed like such trouble with everything I've read and now that I've been dealing with them for about a year it seems silly. Yes, you can take great pains to wash and maintain your diapers - special detergents, stripping them on a regular basis, line dry vs. in the dryer, and so on. But I've found that I can wash my diapers, strip them very occasionally, and they're not any worse for wear. I already use natural laundry detergents or make my own, so that wasn't an issue any way, but I don't wash them separately (usually, sometimes I have a pile up and I do just a wash of diapers) or do anything very special to them and both the Kawaii and gDiapers have held up nicely and still do their jobs.

And that's what I've got to say on the diapering front. I am very proud of the fact that we have not bought a single package of diapers and very few wipes (I tend to use cloth wipes as well, but the husband is less keen on that, so sometimes he splurges on disposable wipes if he knows he'll be solo with the baby a lot one week). It feels good to know that we're using diapers that are better for our little guy and much better for the environment. I remember feeling immensely guilty throwing away SO MUCH with E., who was mostly diapered with disposables, but we used really old school cloth for a while, too (pins and everything). If you're reading this and have any questions you think I might be able to answer, leave a comment or give me a shout on Facebook.

Happy Birthday Eve

Tomorrow my baby turns one year old (if you're interested, you can find his birth story here). It hardly seems possible that a whole year has gone by since I was handed that slippery and sweet boy. This adventure in raising two children, both so completely different from one another, has been amazing and a huge learning experience. I've tapped into parts of myself I hadn't been aware of and as I've watched both my children grow, physically, mentally, and emotionally, I've grown as well. I'm blessed in every way with this little family and in this little boy.

So, what can I say to my sweet boy at (very almost) a whole year old?

My, my little man, you have grown so much and are so big! You'll have a check up next week and we'll know more then, but at last check you were a skinny little thing, but so very long! I'm not quite sure where we got you from, being all tall and skinny, yet here you are. You're fitting nicely into 12-18 month clothes and even starting to creep into 24 months, at least length wise (you don't always quite fill out those pants in the waist and I'm already wishing for those adjustment tabs. You've also sprouted some lovely tufts of hair that are somewhere between a light brown and an almost strawberry-ish blonde. It seems you may have got just a wee bit of your Mahoney roots in the roots of your hair. And, finally, you've decided to get some teeth. Well, a tooth, your middle front one, to be exact. It's just popped through in time to help you with some birthday cake this weekend (off to a good start, right?).

You are doing so, so much! You've been cruising for what seems like months now (maybe since December) and crawling since you were nine months old. You don't quite crawl in the usual way, much to everyone's amusement. You like to keep your right leg in the usual crawling position with your left leg tucked underneath you as you push yourself along. It's very sweet and you're very fast! You also love to dance to any and all music (And you love, love, love music. It soothes you when you're very upset, even Mama's singing!). You love crawling up into Sister's rocking chair or climbing onto your doggy riding toy from Memere. You give high fives and hugs, and are a pro at waving hello and bye-bye.

You've started to become such a little person! You understand a lot of what we say and are working very hard to be able to participate in the discussion. You've started saying bye-bye, doggy, and daddy (though daddy and doggy sound pretty close). I know more and more words will be coming so soon and I'll be excited to hear what your little voice really sounds like. You love so many people, and so many people love you back. You adore Daddy and Sister - your face just lights up when you see them and they play with you. You are a bit of flirt, flashing big, shy grins at the ladies in your life (or even women you don't know!). It's been a joy to see you grow and change and start the journey to become you.

Right now you're patting Autumn (the doggy) and giving her loves and quietly "talking" to her. You are such a sweet boy and I love you so much.

Happy birthday, little bubby boy.

Book Review: Simplicity Parenting

I just finished an amazing book and I need to share (I'm also participating in Mama Kat's writers' workshop this week). Simplicity Parenting by Kim John Payne was one of my latest reads and it's totally flipped my world and ways of thinking when in comes to my kids, my parenting, and how I manage my home and our family rhythm.

I suppose the thing that touched me the most about the content about the book is how the philosophy sits with me amongst all the other parenting "tips" I've read and heard since I had E. nearly six years ago. First of all, I have very mixed feelings about identifying with a particular philosophy or style, because it seems a bit silly to me. I mean, I don't think my mom described herself as an "AP" parent or "laissez faire" or anything else that I suspect she might describe as being nonsense. That said, I personally find a lot of comfort in have names for things - it makes it easier to identify what I like and feel good about/doing, and in this age of Google, having a label or name for something certainly makes it easier to gather more information.

So back to my point - when it comes to parenting style/philosophy, the tips and advice within Simplicity Parenting ride the fence nicely between gentle, AP style parenting and some of the ideas aligned with more traditional parenting (something my own parents and grandparents might be familiar with). Essentially, the idea is to make sure your children know you are the parent (there is none of this ridiculousness with lots and lots of choices, talking every little life event out, and letting the kids make most, if not all, of the calls in their day) and you're here to make things safe and calm and predictable, which is exactly what young children (kiddos under 7) need.

On the other side of that coin, however, is not an authoritarian dictator, but loving parent who takes the time to gently guide her children into life. As a parent, you make decisions for you children not from a place of what works best just for you nor just for the child, but for the family as a whole. Simplicity Parenting doesn't tout a child or parent centered world, but a family centered world. There is also an underlying understanding of what your child is trying to communicate with his or her actions, good or bad. Behavior, good or bad, is not something to reward or punish, but to be considered as a symptom of something larger happening in her world. When you figure out what that larger thing is, you can either fix it if it's causing negative behavior or you can encourage it if it's causing positive behavior.

Another point made in the book and applied in multiple areas is the idea of stepping back. Step back in the home's physical environment. Get rid of the stuff and clutter. Get rid of the toys (!!). This is the tip I took to the most quickly and have found the most success with so far (I've only just finished the book). We got rid of about 3/4 of the toys and other things in our house and it has improved things immensely. Step back in your day - for very young children and even kid's in the middle grades, there isn't much reason to have so many scheduled activities. Kids' days are so heavily scheduled with school that it is a release ("a breath out," so to speak) to come home and have nothing structured to do. Step back in your words - there is a lot of reasoning out of things and talking about things with kids these days. I know in the past I've spent a lot of time explaining myself to E. or tying to get her to use her words for things, too. It's easy to forget that children, even especially bright children, don't always fully comprehend what is happening or being said, even if they have a wonderful vocabulary and seem to sound "ready" for things, whether it's an explanation of why fishies must live in water or why they must go to bed now instead of later or why there are thousands dead after an earthquake they heard about on the news.
 

I also loved how the book was written. As I was perusing reviews on Amazon I noticed a pattern of people complaining about the writing style, that Mr. Payne sort of went on a bit and could have made his point more quickly and with few words. Yep, he sure could have, but there is a comforting, dreamy quality to the writing that caused me, at least, to slow down a bit and really think about what he was saying and why. I rather think those who complained that he "took too long" to get the point missed the whole point of the book - life is not supposed to be rushed through! Enjoy the journey as much as the result.

And lastly, if you're looking to begin to dip your toes into the world of Waldorf, this is the book. I dived right in and read a book of lectures and then Rahima Baldwin Dancy's book You are Your Child's First Teacher, which was great, but it's all very Waldorf and I feel a lot of those books leave you feeling with a bit of guilt, like, "Why didn't I know all this before having children! I've ruined them!" which is a feeling I really dislike, but I also know to take a lot of these things with a grain of salt. I think that if I had read Simplicity Parenting first, I would have left a lot of that guilt behind. Plus, Waldorf, for those who are less...I don't want to say less open-minded, but are maybe a little leery of New Age-y kind of stuff, but anyway, Waldorf can seem a little strange, and if you read this book first and you get the basic parameters of the Waldorf education/parenting philosophy, the stranger stuff doesn't seem so strange, or you can at least look past it and enjoy the universally really wonderful things that come with it.

And that concludes my much longer than intended review of Kim John Payne's wonderful book, Simplicity Parenting.

Five Things My Five Year Old Has Taught Me

1.  Use your words...less. Whether it's giving E. directions or answering one of her many questions, the less I say, the more I get. Commands are simply and gently stated, but they are still commands ("Brush you teeth," versus "Could you please go brush you teeth?"). Questions need answering, but she doesn't need my somewhat exhaustive answers, rooted in history or science. Sometimes those sweet fairy tale-esque answers are just fine or even the occasional, "I don't know."

In life the words you leave out are just as important as the ones you include. I'm a talker (you may have picked that up if you've read this blog enough), but I've had to learn to parse and watch my words and this whole "thinking before you speak" stuff has helped me beyond making sure E. gets herself together before we step out of the house.

2. "But Mama, you're so pretty!" Sometimes she might saying it to suck up to me, but you can't deny that earnest and slightly baffled look when E., queen of the selfie, begs me to let her take my picture and I'm more than a bit reluctant. It's easy to forget sometimes that I am E.'s first standard of feminine beauty (I promise I'm not as arrogant as that just sounded) and body image confidence. It's also easy to forget I'm not quite as hideous looking as I seem to think I am (despite my husband reminding me pretty frequently I'm not hideous at all), but having E. around has reminded that not only do I need to at least pretend that I think I'm beautiful, but there might even be some truth behind it.

3. Get out and meet people! I'm a huge homebody and despite my pretty gregarious personality, I actually hate meeting new people. When E. was a baby and toddler, it wasn't such a problem. All she needed was me and daddy! But now that she's older, play dates are starting to become THE thing to do, which means mama has to *gasp* talk to other parents who I might not already know. It's been hard, especially when I really have no idea who a kid's parents are and I have to make a phone call in order to get together (I haaaate making phone calls), but I've been doing it.

4. It's not a race. If you're a parent you probably already know this, but kids, especially the small ones, really feed off your energy. If you're stressed out and racing around, they're going to be very much out of sorts. It took me a while, but the mornings where I was more relaxed and took my time getting everybody ready for the day, the more likely we were to actually get out of the house and to school on time. If I was a crazy lady, pushing through things as quickly as I could, those were the mornings where everything went to hell, and we'd even had forgotten the hand basket.

5. You can say please...But you don't have to be a people pleaser. Well, E. could still use some work on her manners, as is the case for most five year olds, but I've given up on having one of those smiley, ever-so-sweet little girls. E. knows what she wants and is very confident in telling people. She'll tell you she really liked something or really didn't. No, she will not hug/kiss you if she doesn't want to (and I'm not going to make her). And while she will certainly wait politely for her turn for a piece of birthday cake, she'll certainly make the request for the one with the purple flower.

E. has a confidence about her that I never had, and I always felt like I was a pretty confident kid and then adult. While she does care, to an extent, about what people think, I don't think it's on the top of her mind, like it has been for me for much of my life. Having E. for a daughter has shown me to take joy in myself and to worry less about the opinions of others and that it's not always my job to make sure people are happy.

Something to Share...

So, back in September I submitted an essay to the parenting online magazine Rhythm of the Home (which is sadly "out of print," or whatever the internet version of that is). I love, love, love ROTH. Lots of sweet essays, recipes, and craft tutorials, all very Waldorf-y (it's actually mentioned in You Are Your Child's First Teacher) and zen and awesome. When found out they were accepting submissions for a large, holiday oriented Fall/Winter issue, I was stoked and wanted to submit something.

Here is the link to that something. Enjoy! :-)

The Day I Kicked My Daughter Out

There's a story I remember hearing a lot as a kid. It usually came up during one of those, "You don't know how easy you've got it," themed talks with my dad or my grandparents.

When my dad was a kid his mom was sick of him running around like a maniac in the house and she told him to go outside. Being a compliant little guy, he did without any fuss, but when he wanted to come back inside, the front door was locked. So was the back door. He knocked, rang the door bell, stood outside the windows and screamed, but inside he was not admitted. If I remained unimpressed by this regaling of childhood trauma character building, then the story ended with my dad crying on the steps...in the rain.

Now, some of you may read this and not quite believe that any mother would do this to her child, particularly with today's parenting sensibilities. But if you ever had the pleasure of knowing my grandmother, then you likely aren't surprised. Some aspects of the story might be exaggerated, but this is also the same woman who used to put my dad on a dog runner when he was a toddler so he could run around outside freely without drowning himself in the cow pound, so the locked door story doesn't seem quite out of character.

I can also sympathize a bit with my grandmother. Wild kid running around with a trail of chaos just behind them? What parent doesn't want boot the little hellion out the door and deadbolt it behind them? And while the circumstances that eventually led me to essentially kick E. out of the house one morning were a bit different than those previously mentioned, my sentiments, when you really get down to it, were right on par with my grandma's.

A little bit of outdoor time does a kid good.

I am not a terribly outdoorsy person. I think a lot of this has to do with being one of those wired people who has a difficult time "just being" (something to work on, right?) and so being outside becomes "boring" to me. But I wasn't always like this. Sure, I wasn't a huge outside person as a kid (I'd like to believe that some people are more inclined towards the outdoors than others), but I didn't have a hard time keeping busy once I was out there. There gardens to dig in, creeks to jump into, things to hunt for (though I was never really sure on what the "things" were), forts to build, and during the winter lots of sledding, snow balling, and snowman and snow fort building. I also had the benefit of living in an extremely kid-friendly neighborhood, and while my parents weren't ones to enforce outdoor time very strictly, I had friends whose parents did, so if I wanted to play with someone, I was going to be outside.

But let's fast forward to our little house here in Maine with my sweet little E. She also isn't naturally inclined to go outside. It's almost always my suggestion, and because I rarely want to go outside myself, I don't usually suggest it. But it's always in the back of my mind that she should be outside. And without the benefit of a gang of neighborhood kids to come drag her out, it's up to me to make sure she goes.

In the past, I've sent her out and gone out, too. In theory, this is a great thing. I certainly need more time outdoors as well. But then I'll get bored, or I'll have to attend to something else, or the baby will begin to fuss, and I'll have to go in. Though E. might be playing happily outside, as soon as I decide I need to be indoors, so does she. So, for a long time, our outdoor time had come in small fits and bursts.

Then something occurred to me. E. plays much better on her own. She's a fantastic independent player and can go on for hours, given the chance. I thought about all the outdoor play I had as a child, and while I remember much of it being with friends, virtually none of it was with my parents (who both mastered the skill of being such boring playmates I learned early on to not even ask). Why should things be so different for E.?

So here we were one morning and I looked outside. It was sunny, sort of, and it was reasonably warm (meaning, there wasn't a major risk of frostbite should you choose to venture out). I thought to myself, "Why isn't E. outside playing?" Instead, she was curled up on the couch for a post-breakfast T.V. show, still in her jammies. As soon as the show was done I asked her to go get some socks on, she was going outside.

Without divulging too much information that could later make myself or my daughter look pretty bad, let's just say there was a bit of a fuss, but eventually, E. was standing out of the porch, bundled in her snow things mumbling something about having a mean mama followed by plans to build an igloo. While very tempted to lock the door behind her, I didn't and I went back to whatever it was I had planned to do that morning. E. popped in a couple of times complaining of cold hands or a cold head (which were quickly remedied with the discovery - finally! - of the warmer fleece mittens and a warm scarf wrapped around the head), but all told she played outside that morning, by herself, for far longer than she usually did.

And so it begins. My goal is to have E. outside for at least a half hour every day. For those who are already outside kind of families, this might seem like a pretty paltry goal, but for our fairly housebound crew, it's a pretty big step in the right direction. All it's taken so far is a lot of patience on my part, "good" weather, and the faith that even though we're fairly short on outside play things, E. has the creativity and grit to figure out what do.

And then maybe she can tell me.

Itchy

I have a very bad tendency to spread myself mentally thin. I take on so many projects in my head (even if I'm not actually doing anything) that I become overwhelmed, which is usually quickly followed by feeling angry and then feeling out of control.

I have lots of wants, lots of things I'd like to do, all piled on top of an extensive list of things I need to do, but are a whole lot less desirable to start than the likes and wants. And when I begin trying to mentally sort it all out I hit a pretty thick brick wall of frustration.

Then I want to run away. I talk to my husband grad school in another state. I suggest he take up long haul truck driving (he does have the license for it) and we all live on a big rig and travel the country. I think about just leaving, just me, and going away somewhere, like Europe or Antartica (a la Where'd You Go Bernadette - I feel a certain kinship with the title character).

What usually happens, though, is I get mad, have myself a mini break-down and a bit of a cry. I leave, though my body is still there. I just can't be present. If I'm lucky, like I am today, my husband's home and I can get in my car and drive around by myself. Today, I drove to a gas station and bought pretzels, chocolate, and milk. I ate in my car. Then I came here, to the library.

I don't know if I feel better. I feel...okay. But I also feel like I'm wasting time, and those wants and like and needs are still pressing in on me a bit, though perhaps they are a bit more barricaded and I'm safe for a bit longer. I feel like I need to get something done, but I just don't know what that something is. It's like having an itch. You feel horribly itchy, but no matter where you scratch, how hard, how long, it just doesn't go away. The itchy feeling overwhelms you until you just want to curl up in a ball.

Here is a list of all the things I'd love to do, which I keep thinking about, but can't seem to settle, can't seem to start, for lots of different reasons (and often because they contradict themselves):

• Homeschool E. and M. either for a year or two or forever
• Teach full time
• Stay with Adult Ed. 
• Get my certification to teach at a Waldorf school
• Move to another state
• Live off the grid
• Buy a new house
• Write a book
• Have a veggie garden
• Have chickens and pigs and cows
• Live in one of those crazy tiny little houses that are only, like 500 square feet or something
• Be debt free
• Start a private or charter school
• Work in education at the state and then national level
• Actually have enough inventory to open my Etsy shop for realz
• Put together the nursing cover I designed (yes, I designed a nursing cover)
• Learn to knit really, really well
• Go to graduate school (Harvard and Antioch University are calling my name...)
• Hike places
• Travel internationally
• Travel nationally
• Sleep

You see what's floating around in my head? These aren't the things that I sit back and think, "Oh, someday..." This is all what I want now, knowing full well I likely can't have half of these things now, if ever. Yet in my head they stay and scramble to sort them all out or tell them to be quiet for a bit. And it so badly pulls my attention away from tasks at hand, people at hand, that I sometimes wonder if I'm starting to become transparent, because I am so not there. 

I often wonder when our futures will look more clear. I don't know what's going to happen a year or two down the road and perhaps it's that which makes the above list so insane. There is so much flux in our lives I wish I could just make one big huge change or have something big and huge to work towards in the not so distant future to help bring my whole life back into orbit.

Yes, I think I'm missing my gravitational center. Now I need to go find it.