Category — Motherhood

The life season I am in is uncharted territory. I like it. But its strange at the same time.

I am living in a city not far from where I originally planned on going to college, (as a teen still living in Florida, I had Missouri on my mind, and visited this area twice, even stayed a weekend only 30 minutes away in Moberly,) and finding myself here again is strangely like putting on an old shoe and realizing that not only does it still fit, it’s also conveniently back in style.

I am also not working. Now, I laugh at that statement because anyone who cares for children full-time knows that it is possibly more work than any other job on the face of the earth. But I’m not working-from-home AND parenting/homeschooling/homemaking and this is a first for me. It takes some getting used to, the lack of anxiety about deadlines and getting back to people, the replaced anxiety about budgeting and bills (which, to be honest, was there whether I was bringing home the bacon or not).

I have this memory: I was sitting in duplex in Portland 3 years ago, working a 12 hour day, and dreaming. Something struck me as I looked out over the lush backyard, full with lilies and tulips and cherry blossoms and apple trees and raspberries… and I was inside, on the laptop, working, while my son watched PBS next to me. This notion came into my head: I wish I could just be a farmer! While I don’t desire the actual life of being a farmer (not yet, anyway), what I was recognizing then was that there was something in me that knew how unhealthy this lifestyle was for me, that itched to get out in that yard as often as possible, and to learn skills that would increase my self-sufficiency and decrease my need for ever increasing amounts of income. It seemed such a crazy hack-kneed thought back then, even as I shared it with my husband we laughed at the absurdity, the out-of-reachness, of such an idea. Yet things did sorta begin to change, slowly my intention was towards increasing self-sufficiency and living on less. Then around a year ago, I remember breaking down into sobs, (many times), lamenting that I will never be able to JUST be a mom, JUST care for my home and focus on my children, especially while they are so young and need my attention so much.

Today I suppose I am just so grateful. It seems like Someone heard my cries, wiped my tears, and worked consistently in the background to orchestrate a situation in which I find myself exactly where I wanted to be, even when I didn’t want to let go, when I wouldn’t willfully walk towards the way life is now (Chris working at a local service job, me not working at all, etc). I would have never been able to paint the picture before me; I lack the imagination and sheer unearthly genius that the Creator has. But here I am, partially from an imposed trajectory of purpose and goals, but mainly due to the gracious hand of a loving Father who knows how to care for His children.

Today Chris went to his first day of work at the bakery. He rode his bike, he comped a yummy local meal and beer, and he thoroughly enjoyed himself. He came home from his shift by 3pm, invigorated with plenty of energy left for the second half of his day. It has been a looooooong time since he has been in a job that is agreeable to him on so many levels. Seeing him this way made my heart glad. Glad that I trusted his instinct to leave Fayetteville for Columbia despite my fears of how it would work, and glad that I embraced the challenge of yet another move for the sake of much needed changes in our family’s lifestyle.

My verdict thus far on my home is very positive. It’s tight, tidy, clean, and well laid out. I find pleasure in nesting into its corners and decorating it with special items I’ve collected over the years that mean something to me. It’s what I would call a “Vivian-sized house”: petite, yet strong. And so quick to clean! In addition, the city is so sweet – just enough of the crunch of a good ol’ granola-y college town, mixed with some of that “weird” eclectic, youthful vibe we enjoyed about Portland. It has lots of nearby farms/local food movement, very bikable, a good amount of mom-n-pops (locally owned shops, cafes, etc), and a relatively nice climate as well.

Our budget is blowing my mind a bit, too. I was fairly unsure about how it would all work, taking a job for less pay, etc. But then we got this great little rental for $500 a month with a nice sized yard for my chickens and gardens, and only blocks from the farmer’s market. As I blogged about last week, we don’t need to pay for internet anymore. So far, this has worked out nicely. I blog offline and hop on only to quickly communicate with friends/family. Chris’ smart phone works as a wifi spot we can use to hop on, and for bigger things we can go to the library or his work. Plus, Chris’ job has perks that ease the tightness of a small income, like good tips, free video rentals and movie tickets from 9th St Video and Rag Tag Cinema, free day old artisan breads from the bakery, and half off on bottles of wine. It amazes me how much we “needed” to “live” just 4 years ago compared to today. These days it seems like so long as we have God, each other, fresh food, interesting books, and plenty of yarn, I’m a very happy camper

In other news, the kids have been fighting a stomach bug since Saturday, which has kept us quarantined a bit this week since landing in Columbia on Saturday. This is probably a good thing, however. It’s forced us to move slowly, get to know our home, and spend less money going out and about. The kids seem to be finally on the mend and now I’m just crossing my fingers and taking my vitamins and praying I’m not next!

I guess I don’t know what else to share. I just feel like… a weight has been lifted, some prayers have been answered, and a calm has come over our family. I can sense the release as I learn to live on less income, no longer feeling the extreme pressure of needing to work, and seeing how a family can have everything it needs – heck, to even “afford” luxuries like time to garden, write, knit, read, etc – to be a Radical Homemaker, a Thrifter, a Scavenger’s Manifesto, a semi-Freegan… to continue the journey of simplifying and living well with less.

As our family prepares for our move 5 hours north to Columbia, Missouri next weekend, many things have been discussed via our lifestyle once in our “tiny home”.

For those of you who are yet to be informed, I’ll try to backtrack quickly and sum things up: back in January we took a trip up there at the leading of some sweet friends whose family we know from church here in Fayetteville. A fun, flexible full-time job for Chris opened up in the coming weeks at a bakery downtown that focuses on sustainable and local ingredients. We went back up a couple of weeks ago to look for rentals and found an older, small (750 sq ft I believe), 2/1 house (but to be fair, also has a basement, shed, fenced backyard, and hardwood floors) in our price range (to my knowledge, the lowest rent I have ever lived in, even as a child), located just over 2 miles from his work (so he can bike most days and I can have the car for me and the kids again, woo hoo!), just under 2 miles from the main library and the waldorf preschool, and 2 blocks from the farmer’s market. Oh, and we can have 6 urban backyard hens – enlarging our flock

So we are preparing not only via packing, cleaning etc, but also by going over some possible challenges and adjustments we’d like to take this opportunity to make.

For one thing, our current house this passed year is the first single family dwelling we’ve ever had (previously duplexes and co-housing were our residence), and it is also the most square feet we have ever lived in (a 3rd bedroom). It hasn’t been all that great, to be honest. It’s a lot to clean and most of it goes unused. I couldn’t help but feeling like, so long as I wasn’t needing the extra space for childcare income, it really wasn’t part of our “living simple” plan. The old Less is More, thing. I have, as you may know from reading this blog any amount of time, been attracted to the “tiny house” movement and peruse my copy of “Little House on a Small Planet” often dreaming of the day we can move into a yurt in the pacific NW or a derelict cottage in rural France SO – while one perspective might be that I’m moving into a drafty tiny house in mid-Missouri, I’m looking at the upside; a cozy space with less to clean and more in line with our values of living small and treading light on the planet. In addition, it meets our requirement for affordability, which allows us to find work that doesn’t compromise those values. (Aside: like the Radical Homemaker 4 tenets: community, family, social justice and ecology – any job outside the home must honor these, which is a lot of the reason we felt we should take the slight paycut for Chris to take a job at the bakery close to home, rather than his current job in AR which is 40 minutes away in a cubicle in the logistics industry.)

Okay, so we are all caught up now and I’ll try to get back to my point.

This transition is in some ways another phase of our journey towards sustainable, simple, intentional living, and with that step we are considering our lifestyle choices, and how we use our time and money is one of the main concerns. With a small single-earner income, no health insurance, all credit cards closed (our plastic-free 3 year anniversary is almost here!), every little bit counts.

One decision we’ve made is to not have internet when we move. Our average bill for highspeed internet is currently around $70 a month, which will be about 6% of our spendable income. Since I currently plan to not work from home any substantial part of my day, we no longer NEED high speed internet for my business, and the only thing we do use it for beyond that is watching shows on Hulu after the kids go to bed, or streaming movies on Netflix (we don’t have cable). Basically, for entertainment, mixed with a little educational documentaries here and there, (as well as my favorite internet uses: browsing recipe sites, blogs I like, and checking my email and facebook, all of which I can do quickly with routine visits through wifi cafes or the library with my i-touch).

I must admit, I’m not sure how it will work (!). I won’t see the finale of the few shows I watch until they are available next season to rent on Netflix (I know, I know, boo hoo – but ya know, its an adjustment!) And if I have a sick day, snow day, rainy day, etc in which movies becomes my only aid in entertaining the kids, we won’t have the internet (which we currently hook up to via HDMI to our tv as a second monitor) at our fingertips. Hmmm… am I talking myself out of this? lol

No. I know it will be good for us, and what’s more, we are reallocating a portion of that money towards something more valuable – a family membership to the ARC (columbia’s recreation and activity center) that is conveniently located 2 blocks from our house. With the remaining 20 bucks we’ll put towards an outing once a month (like the Missouri Botanical Gardens, zoo, museums, etc).

I know this will be a challenge for our family, and we are not big TV viewers as it is, but having it for a few hours a week is one of the few “luxuries” we can afford and I’m wondering how we will adjust to being without it, particularly Ethan who is majorly into on-screen entertainment and games.

But as I was saying, we’ll have the ARC – the classes and indoor track and pool will be great escapes that are much healthier for us than a few hours of tv a week! Next, I’m sure we’ll get even more into our weekly library visit where we haul 50 or so books out at each trip. And finally, I think we’ll have more time to spend in our hobbies and crafts, gardening, reading, as well as keeping up with chores. When I think about the money AND time we will be saving, I admit I get pretty excited!

And this brings me to some broader reflections I’ve had of late. One of the things about trying to live more simply that I’ve enjoyed over the last, oh, 4 years or so, is the challenge of my personal comforts and the sense of accomplishment over realizing I can do without things I once couldn’t have imagined. Choosing to be without a car (when we have access to PDX mass transit), or sharing 1 (living in a small city as we do now), or learning to cook from scratch, or figuring out how to allocate money from eating out/entertainment towards whole foods and self-made fun, or learn skills we would have needed other people to do for us in the past. We’ve had to get creative with buying from furniture, clothes, and decor from thrift stores and craigslist so we could avoid cheap products at the cost of unethical labor at Big Box stores. I’ve taken on coordinating the local natural food bulk buying drop so I would have access to warehouse direct prices on “real food”. I have been more committed to the tenets of attached parenting and home learning because I have to take a closer look at why I feel like “giving up” when things get tough and increasing my knowledge and network so I don’t burn out.

But briefly, in the interest of full disclosure and lest I mislead with some ideological and euphoric description of what I have experienced thus far: sometimes this journey SUCKS. Somethings work and somethings don’t, and working through the stress of being financially strapped (not always by choice! -and losing a job/clients is never fun, btw) or the piles of wet clothes in the living room or the whiny kids on a rainy day with no escape from the house, or missing out on things I would have liked to do because of no vehicle, or worrying about how to the funds to get my kid’s cavity filled – oh yeah, its not always “simple” and definitely not always a breezy summer day of homemade bread and sippin tea!

But somethings are simple, and more importantly, everything is meaningful. I’m learning a lot, I feel more equipped, and I am looking forward to the next phase… the unplugged (internet-less) tiny house in Columbia

Ash Wednesday

Today was not exactly a showcase of my better self. Not that it was all bad or even the worst, but as it comes to an end I definitely feel regret over parts of my inner attitude, my impatience, my reactions, my selfishness, my ego, my inability to find “quiet center”.

I don’t even know if I know what quiet center is anymore. I read about it in writing class in college and I don’t even recall whose idea it was. Tolstoy? Tolkien? McLaren? Sting? {See, no idea.}

But it struck me as some sort of ultimate goal in life, or at least one of them. To find the center of oneself… more accurately, the heart… and there find a peace that passes all understanding. To feel a breeze and close your eyes and the world stops. All that is in you and around you is the breeze. Even the sound of the trees rustling or the smell of leaves or the itchy grass below – all of it is put out to the curb with the senses as you go beyond them into just being. Just breathing. Just breezing. Communing with the universe and the Creator of all things…

The life of a stay at home mom affords so few opportunities for quiet outside of myself. Even in rare moments where you might steal away, say, before the children wake up, there is the constant knowledge which compels you to stay in your consciousness because you know this time is not truly yours – even it is borrowed and can be interrupted any minute now by the sound of a waking child.

To find quiet inside and in the midst of it all is even rarer still, though at least I believe in some transcendental way it is attainable, though perhaps only with great discipline and character. A few seconds while washing dishes, looking out of the kitchen window, trying to capture the sound of my breath, to sigh a prayer, to smile internally with gratitude for Life itself, is about the closest I have come to finding a quiet center amidst the constant demands and responsibilities of child rearing.

Even as I type, I am simultaneously caring for a child, nursing my almost 2 year old, her awkward body slumping well passed my lap so as to force her gravity towards the floor; me, legs propped and/or crossed and arms contorted around her attempting, feebly, to hold her in place. She begins to slip, carrying my breast with her as far as it will flex, until her feet are now ON the floor and she is crying, “Hollme, mama! Nini, mama! Helbme, mama!” (Translation: “Hold me, mama. Nurse me, mama. Help me, mama.”) The most comical bit to this very real scene happening to me this very real minute is that I am so intent on getting a few minutes to myself to write that I hardly notice her until she is on the ground flailing to hoist her robust toddler frame back up on my petite legs, which are incidentally sore from packing for our move in exactly 11 days. (But who’s counting?)

I’m intent to tune her out, nonetheless. I made an Ash Wednesday pledge, if you will, to spend my Lent in *focused (*which I’ve come to realize is a very RELATIVE WORD.) writing each day, and dog gone it, I’m going to give it a hearty try. I may not always share it on my blog – actually I hope the majority of it stays well hidden. Some things just aren’t meant to be shared, especially not prematurely.

Since I suppose I am just writing for the sake of writing, I’ll kinda just keep going in a stream of consciousness way, and we’ll see where this goes, shall we?

I ordered a book recently, though I’ve likely had the funds to do so for some time now (which forces me to wonder just how much I have been avoiding this whole writing-practice-thing). The package arrived today, (with that annoying Amazon smiling face that reminds me that I coped out by supporting the “man” instead of the mom & pop, but that’s another story), and I felt truly as though it was packed with a significant, symbolic promise. A promise to tune in to my voice again. The book, if you’re curious, is called Writing Down the Bones. My writer neighbor recommended it to me when we first moved here, a year ago. A year of sitting on it, thinking about it, not sure if I could really prioritize it over {cleaning and cooking and marriage and diapers and gardens and playschool and work for textbooks or hotel food & beverage or small business industries… and, admittedly, over evening movies}.

But a writer is not content with not writing, because we know that not writing means not being true to the itch to do just that: to write for writings sake and with no real end to the means. To just intoxicate oneself with words and sentences and images and … well you get the idea. (Perhaps it is the intoxication behind the motivation?)

I approach the world of writing, of flinging myself carelessly into its rhythm, with a very little confidence, just a surplus of compelling instincts that make no rational sense. Will it be therapy? Doubtful – I will likely drive myself more mad. Will I gain something monetarily? Oh goodness, no. To satisfy my desire to label myself with a lofty vocational title? Puhleeze, who ever thinks “I’m a writer” is really a truthful statement anyway?

All I know is that I have to write again. I have to. I NEED IT.

That’s all. For now.

Today is my birthday! Becoming twenty-er-something is not a huge milestone, but the reminder to celebrate life (side note – my name means “full of life” ) and appreciate all that I have is a welcomed one any day of the year.

These last few weeks I’ve been trying to reduce my intake of grains, and have noticed that I may actually be very gluten-sensitive, but this has only been since a stomach bug I had in January so I believe my gut has been left depleted and wacky. In the meantime, I am enjoying eating and cooking nourishing foods, and this morning as a birthday treat I made myself (and indirectly, my family) some gluten-free cream cheese coffee cake. It’s divine, especially with a little extra maple syrup on the top

I am feeling like celebrating today, despite any concerns or inconveniences that are inevitably part of life on this rock. My husband, darling man that he is, brought me home the most delightful assortment of houseplants for my birthday, from nearby Brick Street Botanicals, a natural florist/nursery in downtown Rogers. I especially love the driftwood and old fruit crate used as planters – how lovely!

My sweet toothy-grinned child woke up before me this morning and made me THREE cards and several drawings, excited to show me what he made for me for my birthday. Here is one, where he is phonetically spelling out Happy Birthday and drew me a little cake with candles I also heard him trying to get Verity to practice saying “Happy Birthday, Mama” – it just brings tears to my eyes to be so loved by such beautiful creatures.

Tonight I’m planning a fun gluten-free dinner: coconut baked shrimp, baked potatoes, and glazed carrots. Afterwards, I’m crossing my fingers that I can pull off this amazing looking Deep Dark Chocolate Tart (gluten, dairy, and refined sugar free!) for my birthday cake. (Every one needs something baked and chocolate for their birthday, I don’t care how old you are!)

I was tickled to find so many birthday wishes when I woke up and checked my email and facebook. What a life to have lived only 27 years and have so many dear friends, family, and acquaintances. I am so truly blessed.

One message this morning was so sweet and thoughtful. My beautiful friend from middle/high school wrote me and included some snippets from a book I had made her of birthday quotes for her birthday – must have been around 14(?). Some were original quotes from me, which really made me grin at my younger self:

“Doing God’s Will is like being employed for a job you love with lots of benefits.” – Vivian Rose Melody
“Love until the day you die and you will never really die.” – vrm

Ha! Too cute.

So tomorrow, very very early, we are heading back up to Columbia, MO. Have a few things to scope out and will tell you more about that as things pan out. In the meantime, I wish you all a day worth celebrating

Today was a simple day. Lately, there seem to be more and more of them. I am constantly having to remind myself to keep it that way – to not destroy the method by tacking on extra to-do’s, and to just “be” as often as possible.

A day like this, with no one down from the latest viruses that float around this great green and blue earth, has been few and far between. Linens were hung outside in the sunny 40 degree mid-day, chickens stayed out from dawn til dusk soaking it up, Ethan climbed a tree while the baby slept. And today was a day of learning. Ethan was very productive with all the things he got done, his reading and history and math and language lessons. I even let him do a computer game (Magic School Bus explores the Rainforest!), which is not exactly in our typical “way” to homeschool, but it seemed like a nice treat after a day spent on books and rulered paper and chalkboards…

Ethan. He is something else. In the quiet of our own home, he has truly begun to make changes in the way he relates to me, his respect and empathy and self-control. He is still incredibly energetic around new people, and continues to have a difficult time waiting his turn to speak, but the way in which he has been maturing these last few weeks has been truly a blessing to me. It has made our days much more enjoyable, our relationship much more sustainable, and even his dad and sister are relating better to him as he takes on the “air” of a 6 year old (who even lost his first tooth recently!!!). There are successes and failures, learning experiences, for us both. Parenting 24/7 is a colorful journey of ups and downs, to say the least.

And I’m not sure which came first, the chicken or the egg, but I’m also feeling — in general — much calmer, less rushed, more playful and quiet-toned, than I have in years. Giving up on devoting a major chunk of my day to income generating work has been a long-time coming, but I can still hardly believe how good it feels to flow about my day managing my household, attempting to catch up on the constant stream of childrens’ needs and wants, without the demands and pressures of an outside job zapping my reserves of time, energy, and patience out from under me. On top of not devoting major hours each day to working from home, I have also not been drinking caffeine, replaced now for THREE weeks with calming handcrafted herbal tea, high quality foods and supplements of vitamins and minerals that support my weak liver, foggy brain, and wacky hormonal glands. It’s been an interesting time, despite catching colds and this and that, because I have a very distinct mood elevation these last few weeks and I must say — I rather like feeling happy

As I blogged about recently, Chris and I ventured up through the snow to Columbia, MO this last weekend. The drive was wonderful, both times, and allowed us a great time of conversation we’ve been needing to catch up on. Our friends we stayed with were marvelous hosts in the most charming of homes, and the time we spent with them was lovely. Even though I caught Ver’s stomach bug of last week and spent most of the day Saturday feeling queasy, I am still very glad to have made the trip. Ethan, too, caught the bug, and that is my one regret that the poor guy was staying here in Arkansas with family when it hit him Friday night, leaving them to clean up the “mess” that comes along with a stomach virus. Thumbs down for that, but otherwise a good report. There is nothing concrete about us moving up there, but we can definitely see our family and lifestyle fitting in well with the area, and most importantly that the flexibility of a job at the bakery there for Chris would allow our family more quality time together and a better quality of life in general. Beyond that, though, it is too early to make any certain announcements. Definitely a neat little city with a great “vibe”, which we enjoyed if even just for a weekend.

Now we are faced with a few impending decisions – the first one being to give our notice and not renew our lease beyond next month (yikes!). I am finding this part difficult, despite all the complaints I have against this house, because in the end I came to this house to really make it my own and be here awhile. As I was cleaning these old wood floors and remember Ethan and I mopping together once and he said, “I know! It’s like we are giving the house a bath!” I sat on the front porch swing knitting and remember the first few weeks when Chris built and painted those “Mystery Purple” railings. Ethan and I always talked about blessing our house by keeping her clean, and when some one would get hurt because they were acting up we would joke that the old house was reminding us to be gentle on her and slow down. I have memories here in just one year, and in the end, as of right now, this old drafty moldy house is all I got. Transition and limbo and unknown are so much more difficult states of being to embrace than grounded, rooted, and established. I know that the roof over my head is NOT my home, in fact I was not even MADE for this world, but my insecurities cling to what’s familiar and has found it really hard to bite the bullet and actually leave this house, esp not knowing exactly when and to where. I know I need to dig in deep and gain some wisdom and perspective, and trust that when I Let Go, I will be carried in His Will.

I’m a woman of few words these days. There is so much going on that by the time I have anything to share my own life has outdated it. Perhaps this has a lot to do with the fact that transitions and changes are about and all around, and never really seem to let up much in my life. My energy and efforts are best spent staying present and introverted, looking towards my winter hibernation and picking up some knitting needles while my brain plays out scenarios even in it’s sleep.

But one thought came to me today, and I want to share it before the moment passes by and drifts off into the land of Thoughts I Had Once.

Returning home from a large Thanksgiving gathering with family, groggy and exhausted with kids already asleep in the back, Chris squeezes my hand and makes conversation, “What was your favorite food today?”

I thought about this a bit. There was SO much food and a huge variety of styles. Finally I said, “Actually, I really liked the cornbread.”

He smiled. “Yep, that was my favorite too.”

We kept on driving in sleepy silence, passing the rolling hills of this area of the Ozarks that were wet and icy from this morning’s rains. My thoughts drifted to how nice it is to be in sync with another person. It doesn’t happen often, but even the littlest thing like favoring the same random side dish is a sweet reminder that companionship has it’s rewards.

This Fall we endured a marital crisis and once again decided to brave the hard road of trekking ahead together. Now we face exciting and frightening possibilities with Chris’ future career choices, and the endless possibilities and unknowns it brings with it. These decisions are already stretching me in many ways, showing me where I lack trust and vision, where I DON’T lack pride — but should, and how little if any good comes of my need to control the outcomes.

But mostly, I’m learning anew how very important it is that no matter what happens, we make the most of and cherish those we love.

I am grateful for a husband who gives the best foot rubs in the universe and whose heart burns with a desire to take care of his family. I am grateful for a sensitive, excitable, imaginative young boy whose presence humbles me every day, in every way, because he deserves only the best nurturing, support, and respect and I fall short in providing that every day, in every way. I am grateful for a loud independent daughter who tells you just what she wants when she wants it — but whose quiet secret is that she is indeed a sweetheart and in her shy smile she tells you of how very much she needs you and how very small she really is.

For a God who doesn’t give up, whose aim is to fix all that is broken and twisted in my heart so I can finally see how very deeply He loves me. For a God who is big enough to incorporate ALL of the broken and twisted hearts in this world in his plan.

Happy Thanksgiving.

I was recently at one of those big chain craft stores for some unfinished wood supplies and noticed how nearly half the store has been recently turned into a seasonal craft section filled floor to ceiling with unnatural materials made to look like shiny, durable versions of their real counterparts (i.e. leaves, pumpkins, spiders, cats, snowmen, reindeer, poinsettias, you get the idea). I recall many years ago, living in a climate with virtually no noticeable change in seasons, how I loved when the store began carrying the seasonal items. One could drop hundreds of dollars on seasonal home decor meant to create an atmosphere of something we have, as a culture, abandoned: the bygone era, Little-House-in-the-Big-Woods-style simplicity celebrating nature, inspiration, creativity, and homeyness.

Clever marketing tells us to go out and spend money on these things to fill what is missing, to make our homes feel like something called life is happening in them. Genuine experiences have been replaced by photo ops at consumer venues (ice skating rinks, Santa’s lap at the mall, pumpkin patches in church lawns). These aren’t all together “bad”, and certainly lovely family memories can be had there, but there is always something our souls know is missing – like we are replacing something whole with something inherently broken and lacking. When we step back and look at the mirage of consumerist seasonal products and manufactured experiences, we know that deep down, it just ain’t the real deal.

I don’t believe the answer is to opt out of seasonal celebrations, to turn a nose up at the consumerism in defiance and solidarity, but rather to strive to reclaim the natural and simple ways we can celebrate holidays and changing seasons with an acute sense of responsibility to the earth and its inhabitants.

To do this, simply look around. Use your senses to take in what is happening in the less manicured spaces where you live (a preserve? natural forest? perhaps the wild corners of your own backyard!) and think outside the box about ways to bring those observations with you indoors, particularly through activities that the kids will enjoy doing with you. Allow the colors to inspire you; are they bright and lively Spring crocuses or the total simplicity of silent white snow?

Think about experiential ways to celebrate: learn a new seasonal song as a family, or start a seasonal garden. If you anticipate cooler weather this winter, don’t forget to make provisions for the birds and squirrels that will be coming through your property in search of a winter meal and fresh water. The memories you and your children will have from these non-consumerist activities will honor them throughout their lives.

A few things we have done in our home and at the playschool this month include:

1. Pine cone bird feeders: cover pine cones with peanut butter and sprinkle on bird seeds – even the youngest children love this! Hang from a tree branch near your window for some bird watching in the coming weeks.

2. Fall leaf prints: on your nature walk, collect fallen leaves and flat seeds, feathers, etc, and bring home to place under thin paper – even fall colored tissue paper – and rub with the side of a crayon — a beeswax block crayon works particularly well for this. The result, Ethan says, “is like magic!” You can hang these as is, or cut them out and glue to construction paper and laminate with contact paper to make Fall place mats. Or hang the tissue paper cut outs in the windows for the sun to shine through and illuminate the leaf prints. So many things you can do with them and they are truly a beautiful way to preserve Fall leaves.

3. Tissue paper window stars: So versatile, so pretty, and so simple. Bring nature’s palette into your home with these window stars you can create with the kids. There are a variety of tutorials online, simply google “Waldorf window star tutorial” to find some.

4. A Nature Mobile: Hang a branch wreathe with yarn or string and from it attach items you collect outside. This ever evolving chandelier is a simple and inspiring conversation piece through out the year.

5. A Nature Table: No waldorf home could be complete without one, but these should really be found in every home. Any small table or shelf will do, and the only rule of thumb is to again keep it simple and natural. We hang silk clothes of colors we see outdoors, decorate with found or made items to reflect what is happening seasonally. Our Fall table currently features a moss covered window sill (real harvested moss was found at the craft store!) with needle felted and wooden mushrooms popping out. The seasonal tree is adorned with Fall leaves we collected last year in Portland and dipped in all natural melted beeswax to preserve them. They are just as beautiful as ever and look great on the seasonal table without getting crinkly and brown. There are so many ways to “do” a nature table, just let nature inspire you and you are well on your way!

Our seasonal tree with beeswax dipped Fall leaves amongst the Michelaemus angel we made and a found blue jay feather

Needle felting wool into seasonal items is a fun and easy way to add nature-inspired figurines to your nature displays. Our squirrel, who we named Klickitat, loves to munch on our found acorns and tucks himself into his cozy pumpkin home each night

6. Log Boats: A favorite year round, log boats can be extra pretty when adorned with a sail of Fall leaves. Be sure to schedule a trip to a creek or water source to watch your ships set sail

7. Plant a Fall Garden: Now is the time, if you haven’t already, to turn over the spent late Summer garden, empty that compost, and get those Fall plants growing! Last week the play school kids helped me work the soil of our pole bean raised bed and planted two heirloom varieties of lettuce along with some red russian kale. If you live in milder climates, Fall is a great time to grow just about anything! Check your local nursery for tips on what to plant in your area, and when. Get those hands dirty!

8. Nature People: Use found items on your nature walks such as nuts, leaves, and moss, to put together little arrangements of nature people for your Fall displays and play time. The possibilities are endless!

9. Learn seasonal songs together: This month our circle time includes two new seasonal songs, October and Autumn Leaves are a Falling. Other resources include books like The Singing Year and CD’s such as Come Follow Me. We can’t get enough!

10. Go outside! Nothing can replace the magic and wonders found outside, particularly in wild spaces. Go on nature walks, visit state parks and local farms – whatever you do, just GO OUT and OBSERVE! You never know what will happen (If you’re feeling particularly nature handicapped and need help introducing your family to the outdoors, a few books I really enjoyed are Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children From Nature-Deficit Disorder, I Love Dirt!: 52 Activities to Help You and Your Kids Discover the Wonders of Nature, and A Natural Sense of Wonder: Connecting Kids with Nature through the Seasons. Remember: Consume Less, Share More — check out your local library!)

HAPPY CELEBRATING!

Well, let’s catch up a bit, shall we???

I began watching kiddos for the play school (Home Grown Playschool, a.k.a. my little brain child) these last two weeks — which is a like, well, a whole other story. (in a nutshell – finally got the OK when I least expected it but when I really needed to make decisions about staying in this house or leaving, and so far it has felt really good to put my creative energy towards this and to spend my mornings and early afternoons singing, eating, crafting, and playing with a table full of kids!)

Simultaneously, Chris has also landed another temp job, one that pays the same but is a little further away, which isn’t ideal but definitely better than no income, amen?! We are quickly finding our rhythm again as a family and taking each day, each moment, with as much graceful stride as we can muster

October brought us some chilly weather which was AWWWsome, but this weekend looks like the mid-80’s again. I’m kind of in shock that this area has seen zero leaf change at this point, and I’m itching to wrap my dreads up in a wool tam and not let them out until Spring Alas, some mornings this week it sure did feel like Fall!

During homeschool and/or play school, we’ve been learning about trees and nuts, St. Francis (and generosity to animals in general), Michaelamus, etc etc (can one realllllllly list all that you do in a home school in 3 weeks?) for the last few weeks in the play school. We’ve crafted silk and feather Michaelamus angels, gathered nut people (mine was a wizard bird, see below), pine cone bird feeders, a fall wreath, so on. So much fun stuff this time of year!

Ethan’s been in a World Dance class with about 20 other kids ages 4-11 or so, and he’s having a blast. They have a recital in December so for now its mainly about learning some moves and following directions, and for Ethan the concept of paying attention and giving respect to the teacher while also learning to be comfortable in his body and movements (which I’m beginning to delve more into as I start learning about the waldorf/steiner “Eurythmy” concept and how to integrate that into our daily circle time).

This week my highlight was going (for the first time) to the Botanical Gardens of the Ozarks, which was so very well done — I was totally impressed. The children’s garden was so cool and we ended up staying for a couple of hours after the “Little Sprouts” preschool program just to play and walk around. Some pictures of that:

We have also emptied our compost and added it with some straw to the empty patches in the raised beds where we retired the dried up corn and squash and beans. The kids and I worked the soil for a few days before planting some kale and lettuce as the summer garden transforms into a Fall garden.

May the season find you all warm, healthy and rested – inside and out!

How am I? Curious minds want to know! lol

I apologize again that the only time I seem to have something to share right now is something I am reading. Know that it directly correlates to things happening in my life, so in a read-between-the-lines-way, I am in fact letting you know how I am See, doesn’t that make you feel better?

In truth, things are going much better this week. Husband is back in recovery and thus we are living together again; with plenty of sweet moments of reconciliation as well as difficult ones of refinement, of course. I thank God for it all and hope I can maintain and build on the eagerness with which I sought His comfort and wisdom during this difficult past month or so.

And speaking of marriage, and parenthood, and all that great stuff, I thought my Merton reading today was quite spot on:

“… marriage too is a vocation… Most men and women will become saints in the married state… [Married people] have a wonderful vocation, all the more wonderful because of its relative freedom and lack of formality. For the “society” which is the family lives beautifully by its own spontaneous inner laws. It has no need of codified rule and custom. Love is its rule, and all its customs are the living expression of deep and sincere affection.

…Married people, then, instead of lamenting their supposed “lack of vocation,” should highly value the vocation they have actually received. They should thank God for the fact that this vocation, with all its responsibilities and hardships, is a safe and sure way to become holy without being warped or shriveled up by pious conventionalism. The married man or mother of a Christian family, if they are faithful to their obligations, will fulfill a mission that is as great as it is consoling: that of bringing into the world and forming young souls capable of happiness and love… Raising children in difficult social circumstances, they will enter perhaps more deeply into the mystery of Divine Providence than other who, by their vow of poverty [i.e. becoming a monk or a vocation of celibacy], ought ideally to be more directly dependent on God than they, but who in fact are never made to feel the anguish of insecurity.

… In marriage, God’s love is made known and shared under the sacramentalized veils of human affection. The vocation to marriage is a vocation of supernatural union which sacrifices and propagates human life… All that is human and instinctive, all that is best in man’s natural affections …becomes a sign of divine love and an occasion of divine grace.” – Thomas Merton, No Man is an Island

It becomes difficult for me to share in this space in times like the one I am having, for lack of privacy on this blog means a certain level of covertness and I am left resorting to quotes I am reading and broad outlines of the events of my life. This will likely continue for awhile as a space for me to journal what I am learning and go back when I feel weak to read over and over the things that seem to give me strength. But in this post I’ll be slightly more personal and specific, careful to approach the subject with love and respect.

I need prayer as I navigate letting go of a person (namely, a husband), a home, a dream, a life. As I take on a more prominent role in the lives of my children who need a loving, patient, stable mother now more than ever. I and the kids are currently living with family in the area and doing our best to feel out each day as it arrives. Always hopeful for a miracle but also trying to accept and be grateful for what IS, even when what IS feels like tragedy. So much has happened in the last week, (even month), so much that has lead me to today and each day, holding my head above water by the grace of God. Some of it remains confusing, but most of it makes perfect sense with every passing day of clarity and the sobering reality of what disease does to a person.

And I have felt the support this week, I really have. Even as I mourn what might be lost and come into the reality of my situation in difficult, even cruel ways, I am reminded at every turn that to live and love means to hold my life loosely, to take on risk, and eventually to forge ahead into the hope of a future.

I do have hope, but I hope in a very general sense right now. Mainly because I have experienced, just two years ago, a total hopelessness that was proven wrong by what only surrendering to God has the power to do. Love is a miraculous thing and for any glimpses of His love here on earth, I am so grateful.

I am so grateful for the love of my friends and family. For my child who hugged me tightly tonight and told me I was the sweetest and bestest mother he ever saw (despite how very often I fail him).

I breathe in and breathe out gratitude and it seems to keep the anxious knot in my tummy a little more pliable. I feel stronger this time and more understanding of what has happened. I can walk out on to the porch in the crispy morning, after a good hard rain and thunder storm last night, raise my hands high to the Heavens and say, “OKAY. I’ll be okay.”