Category — attachment parenting

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I already seem to have a different kid.

For just 3 days now, I have been even more focused on connecting Ethan with nature, keeping all media out of his life, and keeping my explanations and talking to a minimum. The reason for this has been a sincere recommendation from some wise waldorf-inspired mamas/teachers at the local waldorf coop, who I recently had the opportunity to meet and “pick their brains” regarding Ethan’s life stage and whole-child well being. (P.S. I will be enrolling him in a 3-mornings a week kindergarten [his final year of kindergarten in waldorf education] for next year. P.S.S. I have been working again- a small bit each week, from home, with a cherished former client, which will allow me to pay for his part-time schooling. Serious answer to prayer!).

Without going into too much detail about Rudolf Steiner, Waldorf educational philosophy, anthroposophy, etc (for one thing, I wouldn’t be an expert enough to explain it right, and for another, you may not find it very interesting), I will try my best to sum it up as this: Ethan’s adult/thinking/intellectual side was awakened prematurely via adult logic, correction and conversations, over-explanation, etc etc. So he has what appears to be this verbal adeptness, sharp-witted tongue, analytical nervousness, and constant flow of thinking and conversation (as opposed to the “dreamy state” of childhood, play and imagination dominating rather than watching the clock, working on worksheets, worrying like an adult, etc). Sure, some of this is normal development, some of this is Ethan’s personality – but quite a bit of it has come off to me, for some years now, as imbalanced, disconnected, unassimilated… that is to say, the intellectual part is so curious, eager, anxious, reasoning, while his physical, emotional, spiritual self he carries kinda uncomfortably. Hopefully that makes sense.

(For more thoughts on this, two good articles here and here.)

It has been sort of an experiment for me to start in this direction. I have said for many years that we, as a homeschooling family, “set up tent” very near the Waldorf “camp”. There’s been a lot of it that resonates with me, particularly the vision of early childhood being unencumbered by the adult world. That has been extra hard to facilitate at home with Ethan, however, – for many reasons that I won’t go into because it’s not really all that necessary. But having hit this wall of confusion about Ethan’s, for lack of a better word at the moment, behavior, through observing things that felt “off” for me and have been quite a challenge that I didn’t know how to tackle. Some advised public school (keep him busy, put him with lots of kids, feed his intellect?) and others unschool (same reasons, along with “giftedness” and being able to accelerate by following his own interests), but rarely did I consider what I am actually most drawn to as a child development stance in the first place: that he needed to be held close, play more, relax more, more time outside, more time in open-ended handwork (no “right” and “wrong” way, no self-critique) and no time with media (preconceived images, electronic entertainment, stunts his own ability to imagine and be creative, “teaches” too much at too young an age, etc etc), and talked to LESS.

So that is kinda the why and how with this more focused next chapter of homeschooling/parenting for the kids.

While the playschool (which was waldorf-inspired) that I did from home a few days a week last Fall was where my heart was at, I honestly felt so discouraged by Ethan’s reactions to things – wondering if this approach fits him or not… In this world we live in, a child who does have some media exposure, a variety of peers, and is exposed to any of the massive amounts of commercialism out there, I think it is really difficult to craft this “beauty bubble” of felted wool animals and wooden toys and songs and backyards… I took it personally when he begged for battery operated remote control cars and plastic ramps and movies and candy and jump zone and bla bla bla! I second-guessed myself all the time, and coming from that place of lacking confidence in if what I am doing is right for this child, I didn’t quite know where MY boundaries were, or if it was even OKAY to keep certain things from a kid if he thinks he wants them, or just HOW to do this whole thing without compromising our families values?! Giving in didn’t feel good, being rigid didn’t feel good – I was so unsure!

But then I spoke with the mamas from the coop, was reassured that all of us moms are going through it with this generation of kids and the influences around our families and so on. And then I was given something I think I really needed: the validation that it is okay to be the Mom, in the role they call the “Authentic Leader”, to say – “no” but with confidence and without huge, weighty explanations (i.e. “no, we can’t buy the plastic car because the earth is dying from over-population and pollution, so let’s go learn about carbon dioxide and leaching and landfills and global warming so that you fully understand the implications of XYZ that has marketed to you by the Powers That Be who only have their bank accounts to be concerned about — which as it turns out is ANOTHER reason I won’t buy that car because we have no money.” – YES, that was an only slightly exaggerated version of my answer.) I thought, he is so curious, so verbal, so intellectual – he seems to “get it” so why not tell him the truth? Be straight with him. Right?! Lol

So lately I’ve been praying and trying to be very awake and mindful of how I answer, what I say to and in front of the kids, and keeping things simple and firm, and often playful if necessary. In light of “zero screen time”, (we were already a fairly low-screen family compared to mainstream parenting, but I gave in often with many conflicting thoughts and feelings about it): I’ve kept PBS Kids off, not gone to the library for computer games, not even put on background music (not just because it’s a Waldorf thing, but I actually tested the background music thing on Ethan by asking if he wanted it while we wet-on-wet watercolored, which he replied, “No, I can’t paint very well when there is noise in the room”!) I’ve been trying to remember that while kids deserve the respect and courtesy and empathy you would give another adult, they are NOT mini-adults, and they need the guidance and the strength of their Leader to help them navigate.

I feel like I should just pause here to say — I know not everyone fully agrees, and that, especially with the unschooling-type folks whom I also totally get, some of this is actually counter to what they think kids need (trust, choices, freedom, equality, self-directed?). I think there is a balance to find between the two extremes, for sure, and one that I am always on the look out to find But for now, I feel, personally, a deep intuitive response to this approach with my kids at this time. I feel this is the best way in which to guide them into balance through childhood of unhurried, natural play; with all the choices about what food is served, what toys are played with, what the media policy will be, what time is bedtime, etc made by the loving adults in their lives – not them. Besides, they will have plenty of time to worry about all the responsibilities and choices later. I respect all the hard-working, well-researched mamas who are doing things differently with their broods, and would never intend to put anyone off by talking about this approach as the ONLY “right” way. It is, however, the way that feels best for us. Moreover, it is the approach I feel my children and I need to bring healing to our home — and our homeschooling.

So far, I have been really impressed – had I any doubts and skepticism about the effects of going “all in” with the “waldorf way” right now, I have been gradually shedding them in light of the effects it is having on Ethan, particularly.

This was a child who I thought could NEVER be alone, would chatter my ear off, beg (intellectually) and reason and argue til he was blue in the face. He was nervous, anxious about the clock all.the.time. (for the last 3 days we have put black tape over all the clocks in our home!) and frequently out of bounds in his body, not understanding boundaries. While always a great kid, with a heart of gold and good intentions, he exhausted me to a point that I questioned whether this was just a “normal phase” or just his “personality”. I have sensed in the last year or so that he felt put-off by others, while highly self-critical in his efforts (darn perfectionist mama’s influence, to be sure!), that others were annoyed by his energetic-out-of-bounds-ness and talkative nature, and he seemed sort of adrift in a sea without a lifeline – without a constant strong source keeping him grounded. He seemed like a child who didn’t feel safe. Clingy to anyone who showed him attention, which he hoped would be every one.

I could say a million good things about Ethan – this almost-6 year old kid ROCKS and I couldn’t be prouder of him – and I’ve shared such things many times on this blog. But the above is what had begun to frustrate and concern me on and off in recent years, which is why I’ve shared them here. Most of my close friends and family are aware of these observations and have a few of their own.

Right now, however, I’m feeling hopeful, like a weight has been lifted as I’ve been given the permission to adopt a PLAN and that the implementation has been easier than I thought it would be, and the effects I am observing this past week, of both Ethan as well as myself and MY behavior, are really validating me, like a whisper in my heart: we are going in the right direction, yes, yes, more of this!!!

Ethan has been responding with a tremendous amount of love and affection towards his family, a sort of gratitude has been coming off him. He keeps smiling, and hugging, and saying he loves us. He seems positive, less critical, even more courageous. When I tucked him in last night, after ample time together, oatmeal maple-sweetened cookies he helped make, “tea time”, lots and lots of books and a story I made up for him, songs, candles, warm foot bath – he said, “I like the way I feel at night when I go to bed now. I feel safe.” (The previous routine was less heart-felt: dinner, bath, commands to get dressed, brush teeth, pick up room, read one book, sing a quick song, say a quick prayer, off to bed and a warning, “go to sleep, okay? Do NOT talk anymore!”) I’m trying very hard to infuse my time around Ethan with more acceptance, less talking, more hugs, more magic/less logic, more mindfulness. Parenting is a lifetime’s journey, but whenever I get back to these basics, for me, it feels right. Connected, balanced, thoughtful, and nourishing.

Another validating moment: I’ve mentioned that we have put black tape over the clocks. This was in an effort to help him forgo his obsession with the clock (no, really, I mean it!), to instead relax, find a flexible rhythm, and to keep him and us more involved in the present moment instead of living in and worrying about the future. But we did so with little explanation of WHY, just kinda “ho, hum, let’s not worry about the clock, what is the sun telling us to do?” kind of thing). Well at first he found this frustrating, of course, but after days of lamenting that we were keeping the time hidden from him – he was going off to bed with no idea of the actual time (roughly 8, at usual), and he remarked, “Now I kinda like that you guys won’t show me the time – I feel like the days are really looooong and fulllllllll and I’m so tired and just ready to go to bed!” *phew, I wasn’t torturing him!*

And the boy that can’t stop talking, who will never give me space, who will never be alone? Well, he seems to be getting balanced even this early in the new program: a boy who is reconnecting with nature through “practical work” (google it in waldorf terms if you need more explanation), who has been getting up before me and heading straight to the sandbox, a boy who can stay in the backyard for hours and hours in his world, hammering things and swinging and digging – therapy for the child who two weeks ago couldn’t think of anything “to do” and lived by the digital numbers on the oven to tell him how long until XYZ would happen. I am so happy for him – to see him just be a child is a mother’s delight.

Isn’t this what childhood should be; long, full days of nature and play and homemade food, leaving you eager for the pillow and the sweet dreams you’ll have? No worries about adult things, no quizzes on how to spell or add, no scientific names to remember, no critics of your work through grades or gold stars or punitive punishments for your mistakes? With an adult who is capable, composed, playful, warm but firm, where boundaries are clear and expectations are reasonable and age-appropriate? Where adults do not yell or hit or mock or belittle, or lack respect and virtue? Simply the child’s world of imagination and goodness and singing and experiencing through the senses the beauty all around them? Simple. Natural. Magical. Slow.

I think so.

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.

“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

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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…