Tegu Blocks - A Review

The following review is entirely my own, uninfluenced in anyway by the makers of the product described and reviewed. I received no payment in any form to write said review, I just REALLY like this product!

Here we are, at the edge of a New Year, Christmas just behind us. It's been a truly wonderful week at home, to the point where I don't know how I'm going to feel next Monday when I'm back to work. We've spent much of it relaxing, watching movies, playing in the snow, and, of course, testing out brand new toys (and Mama purging a lot of the old ones). It's been long enough at this point to say there are some favorites amongst the kids and me, as well.

While we certainly don't discriminate much when it comes to toys in our house (we have our fair share of plastic and T.V./movie character driven toys in our home, which the kids adore), I personally have a preference for open-ended toys that essentially demand the kids to be creative and imaginative. This year, my parents gave Michael a set of magnetic blocks from a company called Tegu. They have been an absolute hit. Michael will sit happily for several minutes at a time (almost unheard of for this 2-year-old boy) creating all sorts of different configurations, creatures, and experimenting with the magnets and figuring how what parts of the blocks will stick, what will repel, and what will do nothing at all. Sometimes the magnets can make things challenging and frustrating for him, but in a healthy way. Being two, he doesn't want any help, so he has to do some problem solving. 

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I have enjoyed playing with these blocks, too! I'm not the kind of parent who likes to sit and play with her kids (one, because I just don't want to, but also I don't think it's good for parents to influence or be too involved in their children's play), but I've had fun playing, too. Even our too-cool-for-you seven year old has been caught playing with them. Despite the simplicity of the shapes and relatively few number of blocks (M. received a set of 14), we haven't yet run out of ways to use the blocks. I'm tempted to purchase one of the smallest sets (a packet of 8) just to keep in my purse for when we're out at restaurants or have to sit somewhere and wait for a long period of time. 

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I don't really have any complaints to make regarding these blocks. They price is a bit intimidating (about $35 for the set of 14), however, in a world inundated with cheap plastic toys that barely make it from one Christmas or birthday to the next, these are the kind of well-crafted toys that will last for years and I can imagine they will be played with by grandchildren or passed on to a local library for their children's room. They are also made sustainably in Honduras, with charity and service in mind. With a minimal amount of searching (i.e. please correct me if you know I'm wrong) their claims toward sustainably harvesting their materials and working with communities in Honduras check out. With the quality of the product and also the quality of their service to their factory's community in mind, the cost doesn't bother me much at all. That said, if you're interested in a lower price, Amazon does sell them for a pretty significant price cut, though if/when we buy another set (and I'd like to, for M.'s birthday in February), we'll probably go back to the same small toy store my parents got the first set from. 

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If you have children between the ages 2-5, these are an ideal toy. The set of 14 is the perfect amount for my little guy, but as he gets older I imagine he might benefit from having a few more blocks, so if you have a little one who's closer to 4 or 5, I would consider investing in a larger set so they have more blocks to get creative with. If you're looking for something to spend money or a gift card on for your kiddo or are in desperate search for something different for a birthday gift this coming year, I heartily recommend Tegu Blocks. 

Seven Kinds of People You Meet When Camping

The hubs and I have done our fair share of camping since we first got together. We've camped everywhere from way out in the willywacks to places that are really deconstructed hotels, and everything in between. But no matter where you seem to go, there always seems to be those token campers, the kinds of campers that your experience just wouldn't be complete without.

That Kid - You, it's that kid. The one that stumbled into your site about five minutes after you arrived because he noticed your naive friendliness kids sitting in the back of your car. It starts innocently enough; he wants to play with your kids and check out your gear. But then he starts eating your food, and much like in If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, it leads you through a destructive cycle that ends in the somewhat unwanted addition around your campfire 20 hours a day (I mean, he does leave to go to sleep, but it's at, like, midnight, and he'll be back at sunrise). Where is this kid's parents?!

Super Adventure Folks - You only see these people twice a day - at sun up and at sun down. Between those times they are either: hiking the biggest mountain, rafting the gnarliest river, biking the longest trails, or parasailing while performing heart-surgery. Their sinewy svelteness puts you to shame while you eat your eighth breakfast s'more and contemplate the best angle for the sun to be in when you take a nap later.

Sweet Retired Couple - They came in their camper from 1985 and unwittingly wear matching outfits of khaki shorts and some sort of state bird themed shirt. They still hold hands even though they've probably been married for 300 years, and can be frequently see just smiling at each other. Though they keep mostly to themselves, they are pleasant to talk to and smile benignly at your filthy and loud children.

The Bros - The bros come in many forms and ages. Young college guys, old farts who've been doing this for 20 years, or even the ladies' night crowd, exchanging the unending beers for wine spritzers and Mike's Hard Lemonade. What doesn't change is the noise. The screeches and hollers. The random explosions. The smell of grilling steak at all hours. The super loud music. ('80's hair bands are the common thread. Tell me, how many times can you "pour some sugar on it"? Really?) At first, they seem kind of cute (either because they are kind of cute to look at or old people having fun is adorable), but then it gets old. Fast. And you want to go back in time and collectively kill Poison, AC/DC, and Def Leppard.

The Folks from "Away" - Odds on their camper (and it will be a camper) is the biggest and newest at the camp and it will have either Massachusetts or New Jersey plates on it. It will be filled with really nicely dressed people, with really nicely done hair, and they will look lost the whole time. Any time you see one of them, they will have this vacant look in their eyes that says, "Where am I? Did I accidentally buy a time machine that took me back to the olden days? Who are these people? What are these fabric things they're sleeping in? Are they poor? Is this a community of homeless people?" Also, there will be at least one person, usually male, who will ride a four wheeler super fast, everywhere.

The Perma-Campers - You know, the folks with the permanent site, the one they've been renting for the last forty years. On the site you'll see what was once a camper has evolved into a glorious home away from home. There is a small garden and nicely landscaped path leading up to the porch the owner's son-in-law built two summers ago. The porch borders the camper which has at least one addition, and there is a satellite dish stuck awkwardly somewhere, probably a tree. There is a constant stream of people coming and going, usually other perma-campers, God forbid they associate with any of us riffraff.

Mystery Campers - Last, but not least, there are the campers that are never seen. Their tent appears out of nowhere one morning, a car of indeterminate age and origin sits beside their site. You think they must come out at some point, because there's a rotation of items on the picnic table, yet you never see a soul. The tents remain absolutely still, doors and windows completely zipped up, the car never moved. You start to wonder if they aren't traveling vampires who are just staying put in their light blocking tents, waiting until the sun sets to search for their next victim... Or at least that's what you tell you kids before you tuck them in that night. See you in the morning, suckers!! Muahahaha!

School Year, Here We Come!

Oh, the glorious last days of August. This year, by some miracle, the school year doesn't start for us until August 31st, with K-12 students returning September 1st (this is unheard of for me - I cannot remember a school year that started with a nine in all my years, except for maybe my freshman year of college). Being in adult education, we have a reprieve of a week, our students returning the day after Labor day, but we'll still be busy.

This is probably one of my favorite times of year. I look forward to the return to school like I do Christmas. New beginnings, new people, new things to do. I've had my fun, my freedom, but now it's time to buckle down and go to work, which means a new kind of fun.

This school year is particularly busy because three out of the four members of our little household will be in school. E. is starting the 2nd grade, something that is a bit of an unknown to us at the moment, as we haven't had the usual letter from the school or her teacher, who remains a mystery to us. And the hubs and I are both going back to school. I'm starting my master's in Adult and Higher Education, taking on two courses this fall. The hubs is (finally) starting his bachelor's degree, going the route of public administration. He's taking his first college course ever this fall, Introduction to Psychology. I cannot fully express my sheer delight in this new endeavor of his! I am immensely proud of him for taking this step, and I can't wait to be study buddies, even if he's not quite as excited about studying as I am.

So as this half of a week left before school starts carries on, I will fill it with last minute cleaning projects (I have a half completed list that I hope to get all the way completed by Monday), the buying and prepping of lunches, and putting together study guides for myself and the hubs. It'll be FUN!! (I keep telling myself this; if I say it enough times, it will be true, right?).

Here's to hoping everything gets done as and when it should, without bloodshed.   >:-D (This is meant to be a manic grin.)

Dust Bowl

July, so far, has been a month of flux for me. There are many things in the works and the dust is still in the air.

Some things that are happening:

• Still (mostly) plugging away at the Whole30. Results on that front next week. And I'm starting the 21 Day Fix on the 20th. *Big Scared Grin*
• Graduate school has been applied to, interview had, and acceptance letter hopefully in the mail, along with a financial aid package, likely chock full of student loans. Yay? 
• Spiritual stirrings are afoot. My personal belief system is not something I like to discuss publicly. I will happily talk religion and spirituality, in fairly general terms, all day long, but the depth of my beliefs and how they work aren't something I really like to discuss, at least not in this public of a forum. However, things have been happening my heart, and it would seem dishonorable to not mention them if I'm going to list things that are "happening." 
• My mom and I are working on a project together. We are meeting once a week to work on it. If I say any more my mom will kill me. But, okay, I will also mention it's awesome. 
•  I have started teaching my summer classes. I am teaching a legit, several student, need a lesson plan, have to write stuff on the board math class (if you took a math class with me in high school try not to laugh to hard). I'm also pulling together three reasonably individualized novel studies and trying to get a handful of students through as much of the HiSET as possible before mid-August. God help us all.
• I ran two miles yesterday without stopping. I haven't done that in about a year. I love my body and all it can do. 

I'm looking forward to the dust settling and seeing the lay of the land. Until then, keeping my face covered and hoping for the best.

Everything Floats

The day has been hot and as I fall into the cool water, much, besides my sweat and the ache in my muscles, is shed.

I float. Every bit of me floats, and I smile as I look down. It is dark, the murmur of NPR in the background, and no one can see. In this moment, as I am entwined in my cocoon during my transformation, I love my body. I am allowed to love it, and not because I am alone, or that it is so dark, or because I must, but because I want to. It's an easy love, and I dive back into the water, letting it glide over my skin.

I decide that I am done with the self-loathing. I had told myself to stop this a long time ago, have talked about it, I think even written about it, but this time I know that it's really gone.

It's nice to hear, but I don't need those compliments any more. I don't want approval from anyone. I will just happily wear my skin, my muscles and bones, my fat, and I will love it. I will watch it change, too. I will watch it like one watches a sunrise, in aw of each phase and its beauty, until the sun is fully risen and we can't imagine it any other way.

Yes, everything floats when I'm in the water, but that only makes it easier to see, better to admire.

IT CAME! A Erin Condren Pictorial Unboxing

I love the packaging for these planners. Absolutely lovely. (Also, book photo bomb.)

My little pile of freebies: a cute little sticker I gave to E., a postcard, and....

Woohoo! Free cover for my planner! (Already ordered and on it's way.)

And now on to the really good stuff!

Two pen holders for my two planners and a packet of "Keep It Together" bands that coordinate with the cover of my new planner.

The new cover to my old planner. Perfect for summer!

As previously mentioned, I'm a quote junkie. I like to have something meaningful on the cover of my planner, because it's something I see several times a day. I like these little reminders. If you can't see this clearly, it says, "You can never cross the ocean unless you have the courage to lose sight of the shore."

And the new planner!! It's an 18 month-er and I'm so pumped to start using it tomorrow! My previous planner is going to be strictly for school planning. (Also, baby hand photo bomb!)

A Review: How to Raise a Wild Child

I've been reading a few books at the same time, so this one took me a bit longer than it would have normally, but it was so well worth it. A few days ago I gave a little glimpse into some of the thoughts How to Raise a Wild Child by Scott D. Sampson had me mulling over and now I am happy to share a few more insights with you.

This book was pretty much perfect. It was part parenting manifesto, part environmentalist love letter to childhood and nature, part practical. It was just the right amount of story, idealism and action plan, and I can't quite get over it. I was really worried that it would be a something that wasn't tangible, just a series of nice ideas with no real implementation possible or a lot of preachy-ness on things I already new about. But it wasn't that at all - instead, through personal stories, solid research, real life examples, and just pure passion, Dr. Scott relayed a series of concrete ideas and solutions that parents and educators can use to instill a love for nature in their children while simultaneously saving our education system, curing the obesity epidemic, and saving our planet. (Yes, he's left me THAT hopeful. The man should be our secretary of education and interior combined.)

Wonderful ideas aside, one of the best things about this book was the structure. Dr. Scott walks the reader through the issues our nation (our world, really) is facing in regards to a vanishing appreciation for and knowledge of nature and then does a wonderful job of linking it to the massive changes that have occurred in the last few decades in childhood and education (none of them that good). He then explores the role of the "nature mentor", a trusted adult who may or may not have a vast experience in the outdoors, who guides children, their own and possibly others, through nature exploration. Dr. Scott address each major developmental stage and looks at how parents and teachers can expand their children and students' natural horizons. And, in the last section of the book, he looks at a couple of other barriers and potential partnerships between children and nature, such as technology and the rewilding movement. He ends with an incredibly moving picture of a potential future, should we, parents and educators follow through with the many ideas and tips delivered in the book.

This is one of those books where I'm going to need to just purchase my own copy. Given some time to let everything sink in, I'll need to go back to consult or to revisit ideas (there are great summaries at the end of each chapter along with specific and concrete tips for raising a wild child), which is similar to how I felt after reading Kim John Payne's book, Simplicity Parenting (another recommended read). I also feel like this needs to be required reading for all educators. Dr. Scott is deft at picking up on the issues plaguing public education and offers real solutions that I know would move us in a tremendously different and better direction. I sincerely feel that working from the direction of the classroom, as well as the home, would be incredibly effective in making a change in how our nation views our environment.

I cannot say enough good things about this book, so I'm going to end with a list of things I truly just loved about the book:

• It was hopeful, encouraging, and non-preachy.
• There was a solid mix of story, example, and practicality - it was easy to get through and a joy to read.
• My heart sung during the sections discussing children's need to play to learn and I am determined to put together an outdoor playscape - I'd love to see this done at our local schools, as well!
• He mentioned Waldorf schools a bunch of times. 
• It was well organized and thoughtful; the concepts felt accessible. 
• I was left with so many ideas and plans it was almost overwhelming, but in a good way!

 Please, please, please pick up this book and read it. It is a must for parents who desire to be worthy living in this beautiful world and to make it worthy of our children. Whether it's something that just puts a fire under your bum to do more or inspires you with ideas you hadn't had before, it's totally worth the read!

Here We Go Again...

Have you ever gone body surfing at the ocean? You know, you wait for that perfect wave to come in, then you sort of jump and lunge forward and hope that it will carry you forward, allowing you to glide smoothly into shore? I'm a so-so body surfer. Sometimes I nail it, surfing onto the beach in such a way that it feels like flying. Or I just sort of get sucked under and tumble around a bit, cuing all the scary stories I've heard about people breaking their necks while doing this.

I always have an undercurrent of desire to be healthier and lose weight, but my desire to pursue it tends to come in waves. Sometimes I ignore the wave, letting it wash over me, and other times I try to surf it. Some goes are better than others, but I've net to really get it, to glide in to shore feeling fit and healthy and being able to stay that way.

Well, I feel another wave coming on. I feel motivated, ready to push aside bad habits and pick up some good ones. I don't know how this ride into shore is going to go, but I'm hoping this might be it. I know I can't expect perfection, because that will defeat me before I even really start - I have to be gentle with myself and know that if I screw up in some capacity that all is not lose and it's not an excuse to just stop.

So, as with any time I do something like this, I have a plan, and this is it:

• I'm going to try the Whole30...again. I did this last year with lots of success in terms of weight-loss (about 15 lbs. in 11 days), but I felt junky almost the whole time. I'll be honest, I'm going for it again mostly for the weight-loss, BUT there is a part of me that the whole, "It'll change you're entire perspective on food and life!" will happen for me, too. We'll see. Hopefully I can stick it out longer than 11 days!
• I'm also going to try out this CrossFit challenge I found on Pinterest. It's also 30 days, so, why not? I want to try CrossFit stuff out because it requires minimal (if any) equipment and is something I can do from home. I think I could even probably manage to do some stuff while the kids are awake!
• After the 30 days are up, I'm going to check back in with myself to see where I am and where I want to go from there. Maybe I'll stick with paleo or extend the Whole30 (ha), or maybe I'll try to reintroduce some other foods. The one thing I think I'll really, really need to stick with is eliminating or significantly limiting my refined sugar products. I don't currently keep white or brown sugar in my house, but that doesn't prevent me from buying things with refined sugar in it. 
• Rather than just tracking my weight, I'm also going to do my measurements. I like to see changes, and even though when I do put the effort in to losing weight I don't have a problem doing it (knock on wood that it's still the case now), it's nice to have one more marker of my success. 
• And even as I do track my weight, I'm going to track it a little bit differently. I saw this idea on Pinterest years ago and decided it would be a nice visual for me to see what my goal is and how far I've come to accomplish it.

And speaking of goals, here are my overall weight loss and fitness goals. They're not detailed, kind of like my plan above, but it's a starting point. As I get farther into riding this wave, I think my goals will gain more shape.

• I want to lose 90 lbs. Yes, that much. I currently weigh 230 lbs. and my goal weight, for now, is 140. Losing that amount would put me at a pretty reasonable weight for my frame size, which is large (thanks Dad - didn't get your height, but I certainly got your frame size!). (By the way, if you're interested in figuring out what your frame size is and then your ideal weight for your frame and height, check out here and here. Not a huge fan of the site's name, but they have halfway decent information.) 
• I want to be somewhat athletic. I don't want to do anything competitively, but I want to feel good when I move a lot. I want to not be the slowest or worst at something, either. 
• I wouldn't say no to a little muscle definition, but that's pretty low on my priority list. 

Consummate "before" side view.

That's where I'm at. I hope to add more as I go along, including my stats - I'm going to do my measurements in the next couple of days, right before I start the Whole30, which I should be starting soon. I hope, hope, hope this is going to turn into something I can maintain. I'm really ready to do this. 

Consummate "before" front view.

A Review: The Erin Condren LifePlanner

I am a stationary junky. I love nice paper and pretty graphics. I enjoy a good list and like to have my weeks and months planned out. So, it was sort of destiny that my Erin Condren LifePlanner and I would come together. It is the ultimate (in my opinion) of fun paper products, considering the great designs, the personalization, and just pure functionality. Plus, if you're one of those people who likes to accessorize to the max, Erin Condren's stuff will just do you in.

Earlier this year, I bought my first LifePlanner and was so excited by the prospect. I watched YouTube videos, hunted down blog tutorials, and read just about everything I could about the planner. When the planner finally arrived I was so thrilled, but a small part of me was worried about whether or not I would use it faithfully enough to justify the investment. Well, five months in (I got mine just at the beginning of February), I am happy to stay my planner has certainly seen quite a bit of use and I feel like I'm at a place where I can write a review that is really truthful.

My planner!

One of my favorite quotes, by Lao Tzu.

The number one coolest thing about the Erin Condren Planners (and a lot of her products) is the level of customization available. You can totally customize the cover of your planner AND you can get several covers, allowing you to interchange them depending on mood, season, or just when you're looking to spice things up.  There is a huge array of covers to choose from, dozens and dozens of color combinations, as well as the opportunity to add photos and quotes. I chose to have one of my favorite, favorite quotes on the front of my planner. It's a saying that has been my mantra for the last year or so and I thought it was apt for the front of a planner.

Just a little example of one of the "extra" spaces.

As far as the inside of the planner, I love the layout and the multiple uses. Lots and lots of people like to decorate the planners and create wonderful color schemes and color-code everything, but I'm not there yet. I really do like things just the way they are (though I might implement more of a system in the fall when things start roaring again). There are lots of great little spaces that can be used in multiple ways, besides, of course, the basics of a calendar and then daily spaces. I use, for example, the lines beneath each day as a little mood journal.

So, one of the cool things about the LifePlanner, as mentioned above, is that the covers are interchangeable as well as customizable, but, for something to be interchangeable that means it's able to come off, and sometimes that means coming off when you don't want it to. When my planner is especially full, the cover occasionally comes off. Now, it's very simple to reattach, but this has caused some wear and tear in the lamination along the side of my cover. There's also been some fraying at the corners of my cover and along the edges of the two dashboards I purchased (the grocery list/meal planner and to do list). While this isn't enough to prevent me from making another purchase with the company, it's enough to make me a little peeved and consider a cheaper or DIY option before I open my wallet.

"Frayed" edge of my grocery list dashboard.

So, besides the wear and tear issue, I have one other problem. Shipping. Now, $50 is steep for a lot of folks for a planner, but considering it's custom made, designed and manufactured in America (always a plus!), and it's woman founded and run company, I don't mind shelling out the extra cash for the product. Also, the accessories are pretty reasonably priced and, at least what I've purchased thus far, decent quality. But shipping is expensive. Whatever you purchase you can add at least an extra $8 (more if you want it sooner). With a planner, an extra $8 isn't so bad, but that is the flat rate, so even if you forgot or suddenly decided you wanted to order a less expensive accessory, like pens or the meal planning or to-do dashboards, $8 is ridiculous. I really wish shipping could be organized in such way that smaller orders would cost less for shipping. That would be fabulous!

Now, I just wanted to share a couple of little tips I've picked up from around the internet that I've implemented in my planner:

I really love the dashboards that are available through Erin Condren. One is grocery/meal planning themed, the other is blank, but I use it as a to-do list. Initially I was writing on both with a Sharpie and then wiping away when it filled up or it was time to make a new list or meal plan for the week. While it looked nice, it was a huge pain to wipe off Sharpie (which, by the way, is what's recommended on the Erin Condren website, and the Sharpie does wipe off, just not easily). Then on someone's blog (I cannot remember for the life of me, otherwise I'd link up), I saw them using sticky notes. Brilliant. I love, love, love this and use it on both of my dashboards.

Another neat little thing I've seen is a special use for the perpetual calendar that comes with each planner. See, I don't really have a need for the perpetual calendar - there really isn't that much that consistently goes on in my life, at least not at this point. However, I spotted on a blog (again, I don't remember which one, otherwise there'd be a link) someone using their perpetual calendar as a daily, one line journal. I thought it was a fabulous idea, especially since it's something I had wanted to do in other formats before, but this is just so easy. And if I'm going to order a planner every year it just makes sense, because I'll receive a perpetual calendar with each one. Also, it's good to point out that other people have suggested using the calendar as a thankful journal for each day as well.



Overall, I'm super pleased that I made this investment. I've already ordered my 2016 planner and it should be arriving Tuesday along with a new cover for my current planner a couple of other goodies. I'm so excited (probably more than I should be). I think it really says something about a product and it's design that even despite some of the flaws I mentioned above, I still love and want more of this particular thing. I know that as time goes on, things will only get better, more functional, and more beautiful.

A Review: The Farm

A couple of weeks ago I checked out a few books from the library. I did this despite the fact that I already have an unwieldly pile of books on top of my bookshelf that has been threatening to topple over for months. Oh, but I'm so glad I checked them all out, because they've all been fabulous so far, and The Farm by Tom Rob Smith is the first I've finished.

I heard the author interviewed some time ago on NPR and heard him describe this book. I don't recall exactly what he said, but I remember thinking, "Man, I have to read this!" Then, of course, I promptly forgot all about it until I saw it on the "New Arrivals" shelf at the library. Into my book bag it went.

It really was a good thing I was reading three other books along with it, because otherwise I would have finished it much sooner. It is certainly one of those books one could easily devour and then be sad it's all done, regretting it hadn't been savored (I often feel this way about chocolate, too). But I paced myself and truly enjoyed the adventure.

I suppose The Farm could best be described as a psychological thriller. It's told through the voices of a son, Daniel, who starts off the story and appears as the main character, and his mother, Tilde, who's really the storyteller. The premise is that Daniel's parents have retired from England to a farm in the Swedish countryside, where Daniel's mother is originally from. Out of the blue and some months after his parents have left for Sweden, Daniel receives a panicked phone call from his father saying his mother is "not well" and has essentially escaped from a mental institution in Sweden. Long story short, Daniel's mother appears back in England and says that things are not as his father says. There is a plot moving against her, no one is to be trusted, and he must believe her or be counted against her as well. And so the story begins, Daniel's mother explaining in great detail everything that had happened to her, everything that has convinced her of a vast and dangerous conspiracy taking place in the idyllic Swedish countryside.

While there is not a lot of physical action in this book, and much of the story is almost more told rather than shown, I was still pulled deeply into the plot and characters. I related to Daniel, who can't seem to wrap his head around this drastic changes in his parents, whom he loves so much, but then couldn't help but side with his mother, who comes across as the quintessentially disbelieved woman, the one the men want to shut away and claim insane rather than deal with her uncomfortable truths. 

And this idea of women and their role alongside their men continually pops up as a theme in this book. What fun it was to tease apart those overarching themes about relationships and sexuality. The Farm was light and easy to read in many ways, but it also managed to give me something to think about, which I loved.

I truly enjoyed this book, and would recommend it heartily to anyone who is looking for a solidly good and likely quick read.

Memories from a Once Wild Child

I'm currently reading How to Raise a Wild Child by Scott Sampson (of Dinosaur Train fame, if you've watched the show). I'm hoping to review it on here when I'm done, so I won't say much, but I wanted to write something now, because reading this book has prompted me to think about some things. At the moment, I'm in a chapter discussing middle childhood (from about 6 to 11) and how important nature experiences are at this particular set of ages. It makes sense - most of my profound childhood nature experiences happened during this time of my life, usually with groups of roving neighborhood kids when I lived in Massachusetts.

I wanted to put down some of these memories. They're all, for the most part, quite strong, but I love thinking about them and putting them down. I'm very much the kind of person who likes to go over old, happy memories like someone might a photo album (love those, too), or look fondly over a collection of things.

My grandparents' "yard":
I spent all of my early childhood and most of my middle childhood in a town called Groveland, Massachusetts. I don't know what it's like to be a child growing up there now, but my memories are fairly close to idyllic. It was reasonably rural, at least by suburban Massachusetts standards, what with farms and open land and a fair amount of woods (much of this is developed now). My dad's parents lived probably three or so miles from my house, so we spent a lot of time there. Both of my grandparents grew up on farms and keeping one was just natural to them.

Years and years before, my grandfather had run a chicken farm at the end of their road, providing eggs for the local grocery stores. By the time I came along he had given up chicken farming and kept beef cattle. Big, beautiful brown and white cows idled away in his fields, wandering down to the cow pond where I would one day (unsuccessfully) attempt ice skating. Their huge brown eyes and docile ways had me in love about as soon as I knew them.

My grandmother had little to do with the upkeep of the animals; that was all on my grandfather, and me, his helper, of course (I loved giving the cows "dessert" - oats in big rubber bowls). She, instead, tended massive, meticulous, and beautiful flower gardens. She could grow anything and took great pleasure in it. I could spend hours wandering from section to section of their massive yard, taking in the wide variety of color and shape. In the way, way back of their yard, up beyond a line of shady pine trees, there was a large veggie garden where I would freely harvest snacks during the summer.

I often think of my grandparents' yard (well, small farm, really) as my first connection to nature. Even though they moved from that house and all that land in 2000, I can picture that place in my mind almost more clearly than my own home's yard. Time with my grandparents, when I was small, meant time outside, getting dirty and also with the expectation that I would entertain myself, and there was no shortage of entertainment.

When my grandfather became wheelchair bound in the late nineties and the cows were sold off, the land and house soon to follow, I started taking time to wander up into the cow pasture, a place I had never been previously allowed to go. I was in awe of just how much land there was. I felt a huge pain in my heart that this place wouldn't be my family's any more and that it would likely be developed by whomever purchased it, paved over and built up as so much of the land in that area is now. I remember taking the time, even at only 11 or so, to relish the silence and the feeling of the land around me. 

The Broderick's Yard: 

The Broderick's were the family next door, and are honestly the best family. The three kids in that family were some of my favorite playmates growing up, particularly Kate, who's adventurous and competitive spirit pulled me out of my naturally stagnant shell. If I hadn't had the Broderick kids (and later, the Beatons, another group of adorable and active kids) as neighbors, I probably would have spent a majority of my childhood reading books and playing Sonic.

My strongest outdoor memories from my Massachusetts neighborhood occur in the Broderick's yard. They had a huge yard with all the typical childhood amenities, along with a killer sledding hill in the winter, and a mom who would make tuna melts accompanied by Cape Cod potato chips and juice mixed with seltzer water (of course I remember the food!).

There really weren't any limits to where we could go, and as we got older, we would wander farther and farther afield. I remember one particularly warm winter day when a group of us found ourselves in the woods. Rather than snow, there was ice, because that area tended to get really wet, so I suppose there must have been some melting earlier in the season, then things got cold again and froze over. But with the warmth of that particular day, we found ourselves hoping from sheet of thick ice to sheet of thick ice, hanging on to trees and their little patches of dry ground, playing some sort of game, the exact parameters of which I'm not sure of, having the times of our lives. I don't think those particular circumstances cropped up again, at least not while I lived there, and it was, for me, a once in a lifetime event that now seems so simple, but felt amazing at the time.

Maudslay State Park

My last memories from Massachusetts come from an unlikely place, at least in terms of the great outdoors. Newburyport is a large-ish town on the North Shore, sort of akin to the Old Port in Portland (for my Maine friends - Massachusetts friends are free to decry this comparison). In Newburyport there is Maudslay State Park. I haven't been there in years, like, probably close to twenty years, at this point, so my memories of the park itself are extremely foggy, but I include in these rememberances for a reason - it still gives me such a strong feeling when I think about it. I only have fleeting images in my mind of this place, but the sense of loveliness and stillness and mystery sit solidly over me. It's an interesting to me, that a place where I don't have a real distinct memory of could still leave me with such a strong impression. I love how natural places can do that to you.


I know a lot of folks like to think of Millenials as the first generation shut up in the house, transfixed to their computers and TVs, but I would argue that my friends growing up, both in Massachusetts and in Maine, spent a majority of our time playing outside. We were frequently kicked out by our parents and would run from yard to yard, following some kind of adventure or figuring out which place would be best suited for whatever sport we were going to play. Even as a teenager, here in Maine, I can think of many times I spent with friends outside rather than in, never with our noses buried in something else.

This is the kind of childhood I hope for my kids, one where their best childhood memories take place outside, with a friend or group of friends, lost in their play.

Feeling a Little Down and Out (Or Up and Bloated)

Last year, at this time, I was in the process of losing a whole bunch of weight. I was approaching the lowest weight I'd been in years. Since then I've gained it all back...and then some. It sucks. I sucks so hard, because I know exactly what my problem is and I can't seem to fix it. I've talked to my doctor, to a nutritionist, and to a counselor and I don't know what it is about my situation that I can't seem to work around. I just want to eat, I want to eat a lot, and I want to eat terribly unhealthy things.

There are days where I wish I could just not eat. Like, not necessarily become anorexic or something, but just get to a point where I could happily sustain myself on air and light, like Human Barbie.

This was meant to be funny, but the more I look at it and read what I've written, I realize it's just kinda sad.

There are days where I wish I could just go live in the woods and live on the land - it'd be substantially healthier and I'd be so inept at getting myself food I'd lose weight anyway.

And I know these are totally unhealthy thoughts, and no I'm going to start starving myself or throwing up or doing anything that is patently proven that I shouldn't, but I reach these moments were I feel terribly desperate for something to change, but I feel entirely incapable, like that I've forgotten how to lose weight, how to treat myself well, and how to care. I'm hoping with the extra time I'll have over the summer I'll be able to find how to do this all again.

School

When I was about eleven years old I watched a documentary on PBS with my parents. It was about asteroids and the possibility of one hitting the earth, causing unparalleled destruction and death. I didn't sleep for days and was totally unable to verbalize my fears. I am sure my parents had no idea the effect the show had on me, otherwise I'm pretty sure they would have removed all screens from our house in order to prevent it from happening again. But they didn't know, and so what has turned into a life long love/hate relationship with indulging in anxiety inducing information has continued with me into adulthood. Except now it's not asteroids (or super volcanoes (thanks for that one, Mr. Wells, 10th grade geography teacher) or black holes or nuclear winters or disease pandemics). Instead, it's school.

If you're friends with me on Facebook, then no doubt you've seen one of the countless early childhood related articles I've posted, most likely about the push for earlier and earlier reading. I've become a bit obsessed with this for a variety of reasons - one, I have two young children, and two, I work with adults who hate reading, and I often feel that there is a pretty compelling reason why adults hate to read, and it usually stems from their own early education. I'm also very much keyed into the subject specifically because of my daughter, E. I'm sure I've mentioned before that she is very open about her dislike of school. This year, by far, has been much, much easier than last year. Last year, all year, nearly every day, there were tears and begging to stay home. This year is a huge improvement, but nary a day goes by where I don't hear, "Do I have to go?" and when she hears, "Yes, you do," I then get, "But I hate school."

Now, let's make a few things clear: E. has a fabulous teacher. She's fun, engaging, and seriously gives a damn. I love her, and, more importantly, E. loves her. Second, E. is good at school, both socially and academically. There are academic subjects she loves (like reading and writing) and she does well in all, and she has a tight little group of friends who she adores playing with. She doesn't get in trouble and sort of just fits the mold of the kind of kid who does well in the typical school environment.

So, all these things listed above are not things I'm worried about. She has a good teacher, is doing well socially and academically, and isn't a more "spirited" child than usual. What worries me is that, despite having all this going for her, she still hates school. Her reasoning is, she says, is that she's bored. And no, not academically bored (and she's not - she is, all things considered, an average student, falling right where she's supposed to), at least not in the traditional sense, but bored because she wants to play, because she wants more time with her friends, because she wants to engage in what she likes.

As I consider this, part of me says, "Well, she can't play and be with her friends all the time, because, you know, life." But then another (angry and loud) part of me says, "What the hell, she's seven, of course she can play and be with her friends all the time!" And then the third part of me says, "Well, perhaps there's a little ground?" And maybe there is? But what?

I don't feel like the school situation is going to improve. Many I've spoken to about this has half-heartedly shrugged and said, "Maybe it will be better next year?" but they already know the truth -  school doesn't get better as we get older. I mean, there are exceptions, but did you ever say to yourself, "Oh, man, seventh grade is waaaaay better than third!" Um, no. I thought not.

All this brings on a wave of anxiety and I feel paralyzed by our lack of choices. I feel sad and angry because I'm unsure of what to do that will help. And I feel guilty because I feel like I'm being too hard on our education system and the good teachers involved. And I can't seem to escape the information. All while under the guise of being "well informed" I indulge in those anxiety inducing articles about children's needs for more time outside, less standardized testing, and fewer outside pressures. It's as though I'm back in front of that PBS documentary and I can't look away or leave the room, even though I'm horribly disturbed. I can't look away now, either, though I fully realize that the damage I imagine that's being incurred is not nearly as catastrophic.

So, what's a mom to do? For now, I tell myself I'll make life at home a sanctuary, pleasant, peaceful, and unstructured. I'll continue to talk positively at school, but not pass judgement when she says she hates it. I'll try to stay tuned in to what's happening at school, acknowledging that she does do well when she's there, that there are no signs of this dislike that she expresses to me. I'll do all this and hope that over time she does feel better about school...or that we find some other way.

Finding the Marbles

Oh, what is it about this time of year, where my brain takes off and scatters itself all over the place? The juggling act, which I wasn't so good at to begin with, comes crashing down around me and I can't seem to catch a single ball falls from the air. We're desperate for summer in this house. E. can't take another moment of school (thank goodness for her Mammy and Poppy - they're whisking her away on a several-day-long camping trip up in "God's Country"; it's a trip of which I'm very much jealous). I can't quite let go of work and separate myself. We're all hungry for some time together and to have one less thing to do. And goodness, do we need to unplug.

It wasn't that long ago that I was touting how well we were doing sans screens. And we really were. And suddenly working full-time sapped my ability to handle my children's needs in full force and screens became a much needed buffer between my tired body and brain and their immediate needs. (On another note, this led to the mommy-guilt rabbit hole that spiraled in a whole other, rather dark, direction.) Now we're far too glued to screens, too plugged in, and someone needs to pull the cord.

That's my goal for the summer, to unplug and free ourselves. I want to purge everything from our house, all the things we don't need and don't use (or shouldn't) and just bring the basics back to myself and my children. I'm starting to feel frazzled and I know the kids are, too. When every morning is starting out in tears, something has to give.

I think I'm going to spend this summer gathering up all those bits of my brain that have scattered themselves, like marbles escaped from their jar. I want to reconnect to my life, my children and husband, while we all disconnect from the external distractions in our lives.

So Board

I often feel like I'm a Type A person stuck in a Type B's...something. I love a good plan, but I'm not always so great at sticking with it (ahem, blogging...). I recently came across this sort of fabulous new way to plan my fiction writing, though. Obviously, a new method to do something doesn't, by any stretch of the imagination, mean I'm going to stick with it, but small portion of me that is Type A revels in this practice. 

Behold, the Plot Board:

 

So, this is totally not my own creation. I mean, the board itself totally is mine, along with the $12 investment, between the tri-fold poster board itself, sticky notes, and retractable sharpy (my love affair with office supplies is eternal), but the concept is not mine. I found this little gem of an idea here and fell in love with the concept. I like things I can manipulate, and the idea of moving stickies around and rearranging scenes as necessary and being able to visually keep track of plots and subplots appeals to me. I am not usually a kinesthetic or visual learner, but I think tapping into those skills help me see the big picture. I'm a details girl and pulling back to see the full picture is a tough, but this definitely helps. So far so good, so I'll say if you're writing and you have a hard time seeing the forest for the trees, this is worth a try.

Currently I'm moving back and forth between writing scenes, small, intimate things, which I love to write, creating characters and the world they inhabit, and hammering out major plot points. It's like a jigsaw puzzle, and rather than attacking it in a way that would make sense, maybe working on one particular part or piecing together the edges, I have all these little islands of connected pieces that will hopefully flesh themselves out eventually. I'm hoping the plot board will keep me on some sort of path, even if I periodically meander off - to watch Real Housewives.

The First Beach Day

 

After what felt like the longest winter of my life (and certainly of my littles' lives), we ditched our usual school night routines and found ourselves at the lake last Thursday night. The water was frigid but the air had that lovely heavy heat to it that I know I won't love in July, but it was perfect for early May.  

 

Unblocked Writer

I'm back, but with no agenda, no plans, no little granular thoughts. Simply, I'm here to fill space that I have so desperately wanted to fill. I want to spread out all over this white, blank space and saturate it. Words want to tumble from my brain like so many raindrops from the water-heavy sky and soak into the bone dry earth.

Let me spin sentences like a spider does her web. Let me pluck words like flowers from a field. Let me weave together pieces of thoughts like a bracelet of embroidery floss - colorful and meaningless, durable all the same. Let me deliver you more analogies and metaphors like a waiter at an endless feast who does not stop even when you cry how over-full you are.

Sometimes I just need to let out all these words that haven't made their way out in the midst of writing assignments and work emails. I don't think the principal wants to hear me spin fabulous tails and I think my students are already a little bit bored with me.

My writer's brain is getting a little feisty, irritated, even. It hears me talk about writing all the time, it's interest being piqued even at the mention of five paragraph essays, and wonders why so much talk and so little doing. So, here I am, taking my poor little writer's brain out for a walk. It was once a galloping St. Bernard, huge and harry and full of joy, but now it's been reduced to a small, yappy pup, terrier size, making up for it's lack of size by it's inexhaustible bark. I can see it stretching it's stubby legs here over the screen, leaping over the overburdened metaphors like hurdles, and not quite clearing them (perhaps because there are too many).

Forgive my me zeal on this page, forgive me my absence and my periodic returns. I needed a spot to rest, but now I must return.

Be Like the Woodpecker

The picture is not a very good one, I know, but trust me when I tell you that the little black blob hanging off the birch towards the center of the photo is a woodpecker. As I was walking this morning I heard the telltale thwack-crack that is a woodpecker working his way through the trunk of a tree. It was much slower than I would usually hear, so at first I didn't realize what it was. On my way back around though, about a half hour later, in a contemplative sort of mood, I paused and listened once more. When I turned and looked up into the trees I saw this fellow, and though the picture doesn't show it, he was big! Of course, most of the birds we see around our house are the smaller types, mostly chickadees, so anything much larger than a tennis ball seems huge to me.

I watched him for a bit, intrigued by the difference in his method this season compared to warmer times. Rather than his jackhammer beak riveting its way into the tree, his progress was slow and steady, the tree frozen, making it hard to get to its life-giving innards. I don't know why, but watching him made me smile. Perhaps that it was life still goes on, though much slower, during this time of year, even if it sometimes feels like everything had paused. Even with the frightening cold we've had these last few weeks, the outside animals still live and work. 

I think, also, I saw something I needed to see. He worked with such determination, though the conditions were far from perfect and the results would likely not be what he truly wanted. I, too, often find myself in imperfect conditions that produce results that were not what I had originally desired. I will thrust myself forward, over and over, not in that quick, efficient pace, but slowly and deliberately, hoping each time I move myself against the thing I am working to break open, I will reach the prize within. 

The woodpecker was working because if he does not, he will starve. My work, the work of fulling my life with good and nurturing things, is not one that, in the biological sense, will kill me if left neglected. But should I stop and not take what little bits I can get as I break away the bark of life's challenges, certainly my soul will shrivel to nothing.

Though I don't always feel the strength or the motivation to dig into the things that give me the most nourishment, to get at the most filling and good stuff, I think I must remember that I must.

Note: Since I wrote this a woodpecker has since decided to make itself at home underneath one of the eves of our house. Perhaps he sensed our kinship?