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.

The Dog and the Pastor

I know church is sort of a weird place to hear a spooky story (granted, we go to a UU - you get all sorts of good "weird" there), but that's where I heard this one.

We had a guest pastor this past Sunday (Jennifer Wixson, a Quaker minister and writer), and with Halloween just around the corner, she decided to tell us the story of the autumn she spent in a cabin on the backside of Sabbathday Lake. Lots of strange things happened that fall, she explained. A strange, yowling black cat that seemed to only come to her, many unexplained thumps and bumps, and just a general air of unease that seemed to linger around her while she was staying in the cabin.

But one night, a Halloween night, things became especially strange. Spooky, even.

Our guest pastor was driving home very late that night and there was an especially thick layer of fog settled on the road she traveling home on. As she drove painfully slow through the fog, she spotted a strange figure ahead, moving down the middle of the road. As she drove closer, she realized it was a man carrying something on his shoulders, though what, she wasn't sure.

She stopped driving when the man was just ahead of her, and though she was more than a little bit anxious, she felt it wouldn't be right to just drive on without asking if he needed a ride, so she rolled down the window and called out, "Need a lift?!"

The man turned and grinned. "I don't need one, but my dog does!" Suddenly she could see what he was carrying on his shoulders - very dead dog. She could see, because its head had lolled towards her, right through her opened window. Shrieking, she shied away and head to resist the desire to just shove the gas peddle down to car floor.

"Did he get hit by a car?" she asked. The man didn't answer, but instead tossed the dog's corpse into the back of her pickup. More than a bit shocked, our guest pastor finally did hit that gas peddle, leaving the owner of the dead dog behind her. She glanced back once as she drove away and the man had disappeared.

As soon as she got back home, she ran inside and jumped into bed, throwing the covers over her head, not moving until morning and the safety of sunlight arrived. When morning finally did come, she summoned the courage to go outside and look at the dog in the back of her truck and make a decision about what do with it.

But the dog was gone. There was absolutely no trace of the dog. Not a spot of blood, not a hair. It was as if it had never been there.

It was not long after this, our guest pastor told us, that she really started to feel unwelcome in that place, that lovely cabin by the lake. She described a feeling of being chased out, and that if she didn't leave, things far worse than a dead dog in the back of her truck appearing and then disappearing were going to happen.

So, in addition to this great story, our guest pastor also shared this really awesomely creepy poem by James Whitcomb Riley, one that you might have heard or read before, or at least the title might be something familiar to you:

Linking up with Mama Kat this week.

Little Orphant Annie

  by James Whitcomb Riley

Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,
An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,
An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,
An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep;
An' all us other childern, when the supper things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun
A-list'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about,
An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you
             Ef you
                Don't
                   Watch
                      Out!
        
Onc't they was a little boy wouldn't say his prayers,--
So when he went to bed at night, away up stairs,
His Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd him bawl,
An' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wasn't there at all!
An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, an' press,
An' seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'wheres, I guess;
But all they ever found was thist his pants an' roundabout--
An' the Gobble-uns'll git you
             Ef you
                Don't
                   Watch
                      Out!
        
An' one time a little girl 'ud allus laugh an' grin,
An' make fun of ever'one, an' all her blood an' kin;
An' onc't, when they was "company," an' ole folks was there,
She mocked 'em an' shocked 'em, an' said she didn't care!
An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run an' hide,
They was two great big Black Things a-standin' by her side,
An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'fore she knowed what she's about!
An' the Gobble-uns'll git you
             Ef you
                Don't
                   Watch
                      Out!
        
An' little Orphant Annie says when the blaze is blue,
An' the lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes woo-oo!
An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray,
An' the lightnin'-bugs in dew is all squenched away,--
You better mind yer parents, an' yer teachers fond an' dear,
An' churish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear,
An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all about,
Er the Gobble-uns'll git you
             Ef you
                Don't
                   Watch
                      Out!

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15240#sthash.dNhBu4XH.dpuf

Little Orphant Annie

  by James Whitcomb Riley

Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,
An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,
An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,
An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep;
An' all us other childern, when the supper things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun
A-list'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about,
An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you
             Ef you
                Don't
                   Watch
                      Out!
        
Onc't they was a little boy wouldn't say his prayers,--
So when he went to bed at night, away up stairs,
His Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd him bawl,
An' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wasn't there at all!
An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, an' press,
An' seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'wheres, I guess;
But all they ever found was thist his pants an' roundabout--
An' the Gobble-uns'll git you
             Ef you
                Don't
                   Watch
                      Out!
        
An' one time a little girl 'ud allus laugh an' grin,
An' make fun of ever'one, an' all her blood an' kin;
An' onc't, when they was "company," an' ole folks was there,
She mocked 'em an' shocked 'em, an' said she didn't care!
An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run an' hide,
They was two great big Black Things a-standin' by her side,
An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'fore she knowed what she's about!
An' the Gobble-uns'll git you
             Ef you
                Don't
                   Watch
                      Out!
        
An' little Orphant Annie says when the blaze is blue,
An' the lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes woo-oo!
An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray,
An' the lightnin'-bugs in dew is all squenched away,--
You better mind yer parents, an' yer teachers fond an' dear,
An' churish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear,
An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all about,
Er the Gobble-uns'll git you
             Ef you
                Don't
                   Watch
                      Out!

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15240#sthash.dNhBu4XH.dpuf

Time Warp

What is your favorite age? If you could stay that age forever, would you? (Prompt courtesy of Mama Kat)


I have to think back pretty far to reach my favorite age. I have to bypass teenage pregnancy (which I'll never regret, but people DO look at you funny), my troubled years in high school, awkwardness in middle school, the misery of making friends after our move to Maine (I was the quintessential Mass-hole), and the death of my Grandma Ruth. 


Once you get through that mess, you hit about eight. That's not to say 9 through twenty-five stunk, it's just that eight was...well, eight was just about perfect.


We lived in Groveland, Massachusetts at the time, in a beautiful colonial on a quiet suburban street.

My dad and grandpa did a ton of work and an amazing job renovating this almost 300-year-old house, which you can read about here.

We lived in an actual neighborhood, something that is somewhat scarce in our current neck of the woods. There were lots of kids right around my age and we participated in the usual roving gang of kids activities, like flash light tag, secret clubs, and adopting a stray dog that spent a lot of time going through our trash cans.

Halloween! I'm the kiddo in the white turtleneck next to the scarecrow. All these kids grew up to be amazing and kinda gorgeous, by the way.

At eight, I was never bored. I spent crazy amounts of time outside. I had ambitions, ideas, stories, pictures, a voice. It's not to say that I don't have any of that now, because I do, but it was so pure and so uninhibited. There was no concept of, "What will they think," because "they" didn't exist. The only other people in my life were my family and my very best buds, and they all loved me unconditionally, so it didn't matter what I did - it would all be great.


At eight, you're all innocence still (or, at least if all is right in your world, you ought to be), but you are cognisant of the world enough to really be smart about stuff. It's a perfect balance of a willingness to see an unjaded and beautiful world as well as an understanding that maybe everything isn't perfect, but you can do something about it. Rudolph Steiner, who I'm reading an awful lot about lately, would say an eight year old is spending a lot of her time interacting with the world via feelings. Kids are discovering empathy at this age, and truly feeling the brunt of their emotions. They are understanding how emotions work and preparing to someday control them so they can be used to benefit others. It's an amazing time to experience the world. Maybe because I tend to feel so intensely is why I can connect so easily to eight-year-old me.


But would I want to be eight forever? No, of course not. I think most adults, when they think about it, wouldn't want to go back. There are wonderful things about childhood, but once you've tasted adulthood, you know there is no going back. Not necessarily because being a grown-up is so much better, but because what you've seen and done can't be unseen or undone. What we've experienced as children and young adults has helped us unfold into the full person we've become - and really, that's not such a bad person.

What I want to hang on to is some of that eight year old perspective. The world is a wonderful place. My family and friends love me (including some of those folks in the picture above). I am capable, smart, and beautiful. Flashlight tag is fun (heck, any kind of tag is fun). And you know what? If I want to be a ballerina, then, damnit, I can be.


How old are you, really?