“I’m homeschooling because I know in my heart it is RIGHT.”

This type of statement can be heard/seen pretty frequently in the homeschooling community, I’ve probably said it myself, almost unconsciously, as a reason for what we’re doing (as if you really owe some one an explanation, lol).

I think there is some error in that. The first is in assuming that hefty word: RIGHT.

It’s not that I don’t believe some things are inherently right and wrong. But many things wrong are done with good intentions, and I think that is often the result of a duality viewpoint. For example, “if sending kids to traditional “school” is wrong, then I am “right”". Some think time outs are “wrong” (”love withdrawel” we like to rename it – the Alfie Kohn er’s perhaps?) and others don’t (Nanny 911 crowd, cheer!); scheduled meals/bedtimes is wrong and others right (unschoolers vs Waldorfers, anyone???); circumcision wrong and others right (attachment parenters vs. Babywisers, holler!); you get the idea. (ohhhh, I just thought about some even more challenging ones for me: SUGAR, CONSUMPTION, and BREASTFEEDING! Aghst!)

Speaking internally, as well; inside myself, I wrestle daily with “that is the wrong thought. That is the wrong emotion” – assigning virtues to emotions that are so much more simple than all that I give them credit for. Thich Nhat Hanh, in his book Anger, says it well:

The foundation of our practice is the insight of non-duality, the insight of non-violence. This insight teaches us how to treat our body with tenderness. We must treat our anger and our despair with tenderness. Anger has roots in non-anger elements. It has roots in the way we live our daily life. If we take good care of everything in us, without discrimination, we prevent our negative energies from dominating. We reduce the strength of our negative seeds so that they don’t overwhelm us.

As I said, I do believe some things are truly right and wrong, in a universal kind of way. But there are very, very few things I think probably fit that bill. The rest is sooooo subjective. And certainly no parenting or schooling technique is so “right” that it ensures happy, well-adjusted, peaceful kids who excel at whatever they put their hands on and grow up to live a life of the utmost value (college, jobs, artistic or altruistic endeavors- whatever it is YOU the parent think is the utmost value, lol!).

I’m learning this, ever so slowly. The more life broadens the range of my community, I find folks and families who simply defy my stereotypes, who teach me something from a new perspective, and the more I recognize the importance of non-duality. All these opinions and choices exist in the same spirit of parents trying to do the best for their children, (often royally screwing much of it up – whether they know it or not, ha!) and by all different means and methods.

Practically speaking, I was just at my Radical Homemakers group on Tuesday and the subject of homeschooling came up. In the book, the author challenges some typical American assumptions, and one of them is this statement: “Education is not a fixed-cost”, i.e. deep, good learning can happen anywhere, in many ways, at all times, and does not have to be purchased (eg private schools, college, etc).

The group was about evenly divided on the public schooling moms and homeschooling moms, and of course I shared why even on the worst days when I feel like a total failure, and the best public elementary school (maybe in the whole state?) is a stone throw away from my house, I still talk myself down from enrolling Ethan in kindergarten.

And when you share such strong choices rooted in strong values with the world, it is so very important to love – always always love. And with that love for the people around you, you speak with respect for their different viewpoints and try your best to think through what your going to say before using words like “because I know what I’m doing is RIGHT”. Sometimes I do a good job with that, other times I totally fail and come off like the self-righteous hippie (you didn’t think I was aware of that, did ya?). But the truth is that I don’t think WHAT I AM DOING is RIGHT. I don’t. At all.

(I also don’t happen to think it’s wrong, of course. )

It, my friends, is JUST A DECISION. We humans make decisions based on many insights, influences, and factors, and then we do our best. And sometimes we change our mind. Move. Quit a job. Leave a relationship. Just choices. Period. End of story. (No arguing necessary.) Some seem right or wrong, only in hindsight we may appreciate the experience for all it was worth and have grace on ourselves and others who brought turmoil to life because of their choices. In the end, I believe God is the Author of our story and the Forgiver of our mistakes. Mistakes that might cause problems but often get us right where we need to be anyway. (amen and amen?!)

How I feel about homeschooling is deeply rooted in my experiences and knowledge and desires, and while I don’t mean it is “just a decision” to say that I take the choice of my child’s learning lightly (because believe you me, I don’t!). I know that successes and failures (poster children for every argument!) come out BOTH sides of the coin, so the less I concern myself with what every one else is doing, wants to do, or has done, and just focus on my home, MY space, those in MY family, the more I feel ready to make a choice, even when there are tensions (embrace them — they are all part of it, this little time here).

And when you make a choice, OWN IT. And when it seems obvious that you need to make a new choice, ADMIT IT. Be flexible, be tender with yourself and those around you, and be very careful to assume what you are doing is “RIGHT”. (hmmm, am I speaking to YOU or myself?!)

Until next time…

Got the funk these days, primarily with homeschooling and parenting. Such a whirlwind we have been through this last month or so and all that rhythm we were starting to create got sideswiped, yet again.

I’m out searching for some new (and/or old) info and thoughts and inspirations so I can get motivated towards SOMETHING besides grumpiness and fatigue and that familiar listless feeling that comes during times of recovery from life’s major upheavals.

It is really, really, really hard to be a full-time parent. I am missing the fun parts that seemed to come easier when Ethan was 0-3 years old. I capture the few seconds in a picture here and there, but they are way too few and far between lately and I feel abnormally guilty about that. So if you are the praying kind, I sure could use some. I’m seeking out support and encouragement as well. My motherhood journey feels overwhelming and my confidence dwindling.

I’ll close with this inspirational quote from the unschooling site:

“If you think you can’t provide a rich, stimulating environment for your kids, maybe they *are* better off in school. Send them.

But if you know that the whole wide world is rich and stimulating, then GET OUT THERE! DO things, BE with your kids. Find cool places to go. Bring new things home. Quit bitchin’!

If you knew you only had a year more with that child, what would you expose him to? Where would you go? What would you eat? What would you watch? What would you do?

If you had only ONE year—and then it was all over, what would you do? Four seasons. Twelve months. 365 days.

Do that THIS year. And the next.”

Ethan has recently begun wearing ties when we leave the house. He informed me that this is what men do. Oh, do they now?

Often he picks out one of the ties he comes across in his collection and slaps it on and the result is totally charming. What mother doesn’t want to walk around the farmer’s market with a handsome little boy wearing a polka dot tie over his t-shirt?

Here’s the thing, though. This morning he came out dressed for church, all by himself as usual, with TWO ties clipped to his t-shirt. And two mismatching socks under his sandals. This moment was fairly conflicting for me. Part of me, I’ll call her the “good mommy”, wanted to high five the kid for a job well-done and beam that her son is confident, unique, and creative. I glanced at Chris, who muttered his disapproval with the words “geeky, but … that’s okay I guess” under his breath, and my heart sank. Shoot. He’s right, he looks a little geeky. Without further thought, that other part of me, we’ll call her “bad mommy”, instructed Ethan that people just don’t wear two ties and that he needs to pick one. And while he is at it, find some matching socks.

Can you feel how big my cringe is right now? Ouch. Maybe the worst part is that I didn’t really honor this moment all day, but I felt guilty about letting my control-freak tendency come out and do its damage. And I felt ashamed that I let the opinion of others dictate how I would relate to my sweet kid. Maybe I am over-thinking it, but I just really hate moments like that.

In a nutshell, they are failures. And motherhood is more full of them than I ever anticipated, often in way more technicolor brilliance than the above example. Boy, when I was childless, how I thought I had so much figured out! Each year I am less and less the mother I thought I would be, which is not necessarily a bad thing. It is sobering and humbling; I never knew this role would have such capacity to expose my vulnerabilities, insecurities, weaknesses and selfishness. There are times when the exposure is so acute, so revealing, that I have a hard time facing myself. When all of your ideals and values don’t line up with your actions and the ability to change course seems surprisingly sluggish and blocked. Inertia.

As I grapple with what to do about myself, I try to remember to be merciful in my self-talk. To have the wisdom to know what the difference is between a healthy commitment to high standards and being my own (and everyone else’s) worst critic. To have the energy and sense of freedom to laugh, dance, sing, play and be silly. To truly love them for who they are, two ties and all.

Wait just a minute – THIS is the first day of Spring?

It pains me to say it, because the saying has been told to me so many times in the last month that I’m getting downright sick of it, but it appears to be accurate: “If you don’t like the weather in Arkansas, just wait ten minutes — It’ll change!”

Yesterday I was in a strapless tank toasting up my shoulders in the front yard. Today I am bundled in a wool blanket with a raw milk steamer on my couch watching movies while it snows outside! As I type there appears to be 2-3 inches already…

Life has never been what I have expected, not in the least what I expected of motherhood. My ideas and values have shifted so drastically from when I first entered motherhood until now that I sometimes wonder who I even was back then. My thoughts on what I could control, how much I could accomplish, and how successful I would be have not only changed, they’ve been thrown out completely! While I struggle daily with my own limitations, something nothing but the grueling and relentless work of motherhood would have been able to dredge out of me, I feel at once that I am journeying towards an acceptance of my inner self – as well as my outer.

As a busy mom, stealing a few moments in the mirror is rare. I put a little make up on about once per week and try to do about ten minutes of hair removal a week too, but that’s about it. The rest is quick showers and brief Sun Salutations, and small prayers that simply eating nourishing foods will keep me healthy while I put my appearance in God’s hands!

It’s occurred to me lately that I am, as they say, my own worst critic. I caught my self talk this week and it surprised me at how negative I am. Deep down, I feel on many levels that I sacrificed my youth for my children. I lost my pre-baby body at 20 years old, and ever since I wonder how I got to be so OLD. I’ve pulled so many late nights working and 4 hour sleeping shifts interrupted by nursing in the last 5 years that I can feel the effects of my poor self care on my entire system. To say I know fatigue would be an understatement – and not just from poor sleeping but from the daily life lived with young children. Yes, they want something ALL. THE. TIME. Yes, it’s takes every fiber of my being sometimes to truly listen to the “jibber jabber”, or to hold my heart in peace when every bit of me is frustrated at the irrational and immature reasoning of a 4 year old. To keep the daily meditations close at hand, ones that remind me of how beautiful my children are, how fortunate I am to be their mother. I also have to remind myself about my own boundaries with the kids – to realize that I can lovingly distance myself when I have reached my limits- that to martyr myself for their every whim is not going to do any one any good – not to mention my sanity.

Every mom wants to be a good mom. We all have different visions of what this archetype looks like, but who ever She is, we strive to be her and often chastise ourselves when we fall short. It takes concerted effort and mindfulness for me to let that vision be a positive self-image – to see it as a mirror of my own self, and to accept that Good along with my Bad (all those hits and misses are a balance). When I fail, ( and believe me, I DO. Just about every tired, cranky morning when I raise my voice or get impatient or sulk or cry or blame or go a wee bit loco!), I am learning that I need to step back and accept what is.

I don’t always have a lot of energy, or creativity, or patience, but God knows what I need and He knows what the kids and Chris need. He knows what kinds of models, experiences, and knowledge we still lack. It’s comforting to me to realize that amidst my own failures, God can work the greatest miracles. And as far as that negative self-talk, well, I need to work on that. My body may be ridden with premature stretch marks, gray hair, wrinkles, and a small but ever increasing double chin, but it has never failed me. It has been strong; has carried, birthed, and nursed two very healthy babies. Maybe in those ways, I have sacrificed my youth for the kids, but whether that is a good thing or a bad thing is only a matter of changing my perspective I mean, really, is there a more noble thing to sacrifice youth and beauty for??? And anyway, some parts of me have grown way more beautiful BECAUSE of my children.

The snowflakes outside continue to fall on my Spring solstice, and my rosy cheeked, robust daughter sleeps on the window bench in total peace. She is officially walking this week, by the way, which is quite a treat. I can tell she is going to be such a vibrant, strong woman.

Well, here’s to acceptance, beauty, and balance. To motherhood, in all it’s unexpected exposures…

Well, I did it! I Raced for the Cure! I got up early this morning and ran the timed 5k with my lovely 4 running mates, including one crazy pink haired mama

The pictures came out SUPER awkward, esp since I look like I’m doing the pee pee dance. It was cold at 6:30 this morning!

How did it go? I got my period while running, that’s how. By mile 2 I could tell things were, well, uh, flowing. And the pms cervical cramps came right on time too. I think my IUD made it worse, I seriously felt like I was going into labor, lol. So I walked from about 2 miles in for maybe a .5 mile stretch and then ran the last part again, timing around 39 minutes, lol. I’m still happy with it though, it was about having fun and we sure did! Also, I wore a pink sign on my back honoring my friend who passed away. It was sad to see young girls running with “In memory of my mom” on their backs. Though we were having fun, I was sobered by the reality of this disease. It’s heartbreaking.

So here we are, being nerds. (Okay, I’m the only nerd.) After are some other pictures.

Enjoy!

For some reason I want to add that we all appear much thinner in real life. This photo added 20 pounds to each of us LOL

Yeah, that’s me dancing in the background of this accidental pic, with Nicole in the foreground tying her shoes. Sigh. I have WAY too much energy at all the WRONG times.

Misty with her crazy pink hair. Me with my crazy pink face.

Ethan in my “Race for the Cure” cape. (Is it just me or is this pose a little… feminine?)

Verity playing in the kids room at church this morning

Off the needles: Finally finished this Ostrich Plume Shawlet (in wool and silk yarn) for Lacey this week.

Verity fell asleep in the back position in the Ergo while in the back yard picking tomatoes the other day. When I took off the Ergo she stayed fast asleep on my back, so we had to shoot this funny picture.

THAT’S ALL FOLKS. I might be quiet this week as I’m working a TON and flying to Chicago on Wed.

Update on Verity!

She’s roughly 4.5 months and weighs 18 pounds (gained 10 pounds since birth). She is also verifiable sitting up all the time now (one step closer to being able to ride my bike again!!!) I just grabbed the camera to capture this mile marker, as well as her hand/mouth coordination with grabbing her toys and stuff. She will be running around with her brother in NO TIME!

She still nurses whenever the heck she wants to, is worn 99% of the time, sleeps right next to me, and sleeps about 11pm through 4am straight most nights, wakes to nurse frequently in the early morning but stay asleep until about 9 or 10am. She then cat naps all day, literally only 20 minutes at a time sometimes. She is very similar to Ethan at this stage; loudly verbal, curious, and strong.

(sorry about the spit up in the video and the fact that its sideways! lol) This is kinda long and boring and there is no sound so basically if you are a grandparent, eat your heart out; all other readers, you can pretty much skip this entire post

I got my Ergo yesterday!!! I heart it, with a cherry and a few backflips on top.

You guys know how much I swore by my Moby. But lately Verity was pushing 16 pounds and the Moby began to get less convenient. I think it would work great if it was only occasionally, but I need something that can withstand 12 hours a day of holding, including while we walk around the city, hop on the bus, etc. My back was not liking that. But MUAW – NOT wear my baby gal? Also not an option!

So enter the Ergo. Everyone swears by it, I see them all over the city (I’m not kidding. I could count at least 20 if I walked around the city for a few hours.) Unfortunately, these bad boys run over 100 bucks new. And I’ve said it before and I’ll said it again: Mama ’tis po’ folk.

Yesterday we finally found the one we wanted on craigslist. It’s an older version, in “terracotta” color, and came with the attachable backpack and wallet (almost like a small fannypack), which is all WONDERFUL when you have no car and your diaper bag consists of everything but the kitchen sink and chickens. The price? An unbeatable fiddy bucks.

Why am I spelling things oddly unphonetically today? Cuz’ I can.

Anyhow.

I’m so glad to have gotten my Ergo in time for the camping trip and Chicago trip later this month too. Yay! I haven’t been able to wear it yet because my neck is still twisted in a nasty knot, but its getting better each day. The thing that made the best difference was a Wild Carrot Herbals salve containing arnica, birch and cottonwood. It worked so well! I am definitely preparing to get more into herbs soon as my next “learn something new” phase. I’ll save that all for another post Vivian the VA… AND a herbalist? hmmmm…

So I was just commiserating the other day about how I’m not sure how I’m going to get through Portland’s drizzly cold (relatively) fall/winter as a baby wearer. I mean, how do you keep yourself and the tot warm without a coat and just, well, how is this possible?!

So some one (THANKS JENNY!) recommended the site CottonBabies for some of my cloth diapering questions and I found this product. As Seth and now Ethan would say: “what.” This product is the bomb diggity. (which is not something either Seth OR Ethan — OR anyone with an ounce of coolness would say.)

I guess it never occurred to me that the geniuses out there who invent stuff would have this babywearing in the winter thing covered. Neat.

I just gotta put a little sumthin’ sumthin’ away before, say, the end of October, so as to get myself one of these bad boys. Passing along the info in case anyone else had the same conundrum. (I really like that word, how it just rolls off the tongue… CON NUN DRUM! …Okay. It’s time for bed.)