Category — Parenting

Things were a little busy last week – we spent a lot of time with new friends, helped build a really cool barn style chicken coop (ours is going up next!), had a lovely day in the country (Ethan skinny dipped for the first time!), had my first Arkansas tick experience (ew!), then went immediately into prep for Chris’ big spanish style birthday shindig. We made 20 pounds of pulled pork, slow cooked for 2 days in a crock pot with lots and lots of garlic, limes and adobo. We had about 4 gallons of slow cooked black beans and rice, along with a big beautiful salad, fresh bread, lots of plaintains and even mofongo! The event was a great excuse to spend time with family and food!

Here’s some pictures of the event and other happenings this week (along with some fun pics of my dreads, now 3 months old )
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So speaking of family, festivals, and food: This is the title of one of my very favorite books. I picked it up when Ethan was about 2 years old and began to gravitate right away to what I learned about Waldorf celebrations. Lately I’ve been reading more and more books and listening to training workshops, all in preparation for something I have yet to tell you guys about but when I do I’ll be so happy to share with you all!

So, today was a rough day. I am fighting a cold, Chris and I are both very tired, Ethan and Verity are both incredibly high needs and the noise level is constant! Not to mention that I have lots and lots of work to make up and I highly doubt I will finish it all. With sore throat and ears ringing, I felt impatient and unnerved today – two things I really don’t like about myself, I must admit. I remember seeing this video recently of a Waldorf home-based educator who said that when she notices the energy of the children getting really rowdy, she first checks her own breathing. That came to mind today, as I strove to check myself as a potential contributor to the wild pent-up rainy day boredom energy of the kids.

So instead of raising my voice for the umpteenth time (working on it!), I told Ethan to be still and silent as much as he could while Chris took Verity off on a drive to fall asleep. While this was happening I made a pot of “Quiet Child” tea from Mountain Rose Herbs and the “Best Oatmeal Cookies” from that well-loved go-to book: Family, Festivals, and Food!

What you can’t experience over this screen is just how tasty and warm these simple little things are. Things are feeling cozier and quieter already…

Well, if you’d like to try them, leave a comment about something you use to help ground yourself or the kids on an everything-is-going-wrong kinda day. Next week, I’ll pick a winner randomly and mail you my extra copy of this book! In it you will find seasonal activities, recipes, verses and songs, and stories for your family to celebrate the year.

My intention: to release. When my palms are aching from holding too tight, and my neck is sore from the tension of the load – put it down, drop the line, just release it all.

The expectations. The fears. The anxiety. The selfishness. The opinions. The consumption. The pain. Just let it go.

Embrace, instead, the reality of true freedom to Just Be. The reality of Love Incarnate.

Here are some pictures from this week:

A discarded robin’s egg found in the backyard reminds us: hippity, hoppity, Easter is on it’s way!

The office is very much a greenhouse at the moment. along with 42 heirloom tomato plants, we’ve got oodles of sprouts already from herbs, peppers, lettuce, melons, gourds, and more. Along with a huge assortment of sprouts from a tray Ethan plated all by himself for his flower garden: foxglove, sunflowers, columbine, california poppy, chinese lantern, money plant, marigolds, zinnia – the list goes on! It’s going to be so beautiful this summer!

Verity and I were on the news Saturday night! Talking about the farmers market (I was a total dweeb. I didn’t even realize this was for the local news, I said something like “good luck on your project!” to the young man as we parted ways- for some reason I thought he was a university student, lol! Then my landlord called to tell me it was good to see me on the 5 o’clock news! Ha…)

Finished Verity’s “pixie” easter bonnet

Ethan got a handmade easter basket at the farmer’s market. I admired the flowers, pottery, amazing bluegrass musicians, and handspun yarns. I purchased a huge local smoked ham (which a portion of is currently crocking for split pea soup dinner!)

My knitting and laptop are never safe from Verity’s curious little hands…

I’ve been spending ample time in the backyard, enjoying the new blooms while the kids play in their sandbox. We’ve been doing more garden bed prep, and have put up a nice clothes line set. Also found a $25 picnic table to put out there, above which is strung white christmas lights. Can’t wait for outdoor dining again!

It’s certainly getting green out there…

Easter baskets lined with sprouts (real grass!) holding hardboiled eggs, yogurt covered raisins and pretzels, a coconut bar, and a few gifts: a dragon bubble wand, beeswax modeling clay, and beeswax block crayons (for Ver), all courtesy of Bella Luna Toys. Ethan also got a “Milo” to play with his “Otis”, and a replacement “Scorch” for the one he lost and still couldn’t live without.

Ethan playing with new neighborhood friends: a sweet polish family who lives a few doors down who we bump into on our evening walks.

I guess that about does it!

Today: enjoy the release.

The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect but by the play instinct acting from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves.

Carl Jung (1875 – 1961)

42 heirloom tomato have sprouted!

I remember reading about Carl Jung in my Theories of Personality class in college; his contribution to the concept of individuation played an integral role in my development at that time. When I came across that reading, it struck me. Wiki defines this concept as “the process through which a person becomes his/her ‘true self’” and further explains Jung’s belief that “Individuation has a holistic healing effect on the person, both mentally and physically. Besides achieving physical and mental health, people who have advanced towards individuation tend to be harmonious, mature and responsible. They embody humane values such as freedom and justice and have a good understanding about the workings of human nature and the universe.”

Along these lines, it was notable for me to learn about Jung’s idea of artistic expression as a healing outlet; “art therapy”. He spoke of creative expression as a means to becoming whole.

Ideas that, for me, rang very true. Since as far back as I can remember my life, I have sought to express myself creatively. This doesn’t mean I was ever a master at a particular art form, no. But the countless drawings, books, and poems collected throughout my childhood reflect my desire to be constantly creating something.

Being a creative being is, I believe, at the very heart of being human. It is partaking in something divine – the way in which we were created in God’s image. We are compelled to be co-creators with Him, even when we are completely unaware of it.

There is a harmony I feel when I am creating. It doesn’t matter if I am painting, writing, decorating a room, gardening, tending animals, cooking a meal, laying out a flyer, designing a website project, knitting, sewing, singing, strumming an instrument, taking pictures, building a fairy house with the kids – the medium is not what is important. What is important is that what I am doing is tapping into that limitless part of me that constantly accepts the challenge of a new creation, despite the time, energy or frustration involved, simply because the activity makes me feel more alive. And having children – rearing a family – what more glorious display of our co-creating privilege can we find? I am in awe of this often.

Creating is a spiritual act – one I can feel more acutely when working with natural materials – and without it in my life I begin to get all backwards.

At times I chastise myself for not having a more practical work ethic. For not being able to clock in – clock out at a job, regardless of the ease or pointlessness of the daily tasks, for the sheer result of a paycheck. Believe it or not, I admire those with that ability. Even in the most dire pinch, such work feels like madness to me (this is not an exaggeration – I believe I literally begin to lose my mind!). Without some element of creating happening, I feel panicky, straight-jacketed, and desperate for distraction.

Our family is at a shift, (life is so full of those, isn’t it?) and I find myself drawn to make some changes in my work life and load. While I await the unfolding of Chris’ next path, as he looks for work here in Fayetteville, I know this is an opportunity to fine-tune and adjust many of my personal goals and our goals and values as a family.

As always, I want to work with great flexibility for the sake of being my children’s full-time caregiver. But as Ethan enters Kindergarten age as a homeschooler and Verity is a walking almost-toddler, I am finding the need to revamp my priority of them, much more so than in previous years. This is a very high-need phase of their lives, one that will be over in the blink of an eye, and this fact weighs on me every single day. I don’t want to miss out on their childhood because I was stuck behind a laptop or too tired from a late work night to engage life with them. It breaks my heart, actually.

This shift will entail getting creative (there is that word again!) about how I co-support our family financially, how we make and spend and save money, and what our priorities are. From getting more self-sustainable, to finding ways I can cut back my “laptop” hours in favor of more holistic, integrated work-from-home-mom ventures. I am so eager to share my ideas, but for now I will continue to work them out and see how things shape up over the rest of the Spring. In the meantime, I am trying to stay the course with various jobs that have begun to dry out creatively, as the economy forces more and more companies to budget down to the nitty gritty tasks with little room for initiatives and creative projects. Luckily, I have amazing colleagues which help make the grind worth it. And on the side, I am getting my “fix” for creative expression through hobbies, knitting Verity’s birthday sweater, taking a photography course (will be starting a separate photoblog soon!), starting a nature journal, pen and paper journaling (something I haven’t done in years and years), and dreaming of the day I’ll finally write that book.

So there ya go. My courageous share…

(It’s quite possible that)
this life is all about
silly impressions of each other
while all around us
water.
falls.
(loudly.)

(It’s quite possible that)
this life is all about
noticing fungus
(or flowers.)

(It’s quite possible that)
this life is all about
choosing whether to be
creepy
or cute.
(or both.)

(It’s quite possible that)
life is all about
being yourself
-together.

If you see elements of garbage in you, like fear, despair, and hatred, don’t panic. As a good organic gardener, a good practitioner, you can face this: “I recognize that there is garbage in me. I am going to transform this garbage into nourishing compost that can make love reappear.

…

When you sit at a cafe, with a lot of music in the background and a lot of projects in your head, you’re not really drinking your coffee or your tea. You’re drinking your projects, you’re drinking your worries. You are not real, and the coffee is not real either. Your tea and you coffee can only reveal itself to you as a reality when you go back to your self, and produce your true presence, freeing yourself from the past, the future, and from your worries. When you are real, the tea also becomes real and the encounter between you and the tea is real. This is genuine tea drinking.”

- Thich Nhat Hanh, “Anger”

Thich Nhat Hanh has been teaching me about mindfulness as a tool in embracing and balancing my anger. It’s certainly no surprise that I get angry sometimes, we all do. Self-care, aka “me time”, is so very hard to come by as a mom with young one’s, and that reality leaves me often drained and tired. It’s called being a mom, right? For the next two days I have about 20 projects on my to-do list, ranging from LOTS of work for 3 various clients and things I can’t continue to put off (like filing my taxes, writing so and so, calling that credit agency, UNPACKING MY SUITCASE from my move a month ago, finish painting the office, start the rest of the seeds, order my bulk foods and let others know about the new Fayetteville drop, find a futon so we don’t continue sleeping on the floor, finish a logo for dad, email my uncle, getting FOUR packages in the mail [first must finish the sewing on one of them]… should I go on???) Amidst all of these projects, I also have worries; trying to plan a trip to see some family in Louisiana, concern over a family member who is in a bad way right now, relationships that still need to be tended to and mended, and the ever-present fear that I’m not giving the kids the childhood they deserve…

But tonight is the only night of my entire week that the house is anything close to still. Chris is gone, Ethan is sleeping (sometimes so is Ver), and each week I find myself tapping into the things I truly love: I light candles, I have a bowl of homemade chicken broth, I read a little from my book, I knit for a few, I sip a glass of Pinot Noir, I hum as I wipe down counters, do dishes, hang clothes, so on. The house is quiet and smells like the sage bush that is burning. It is relatively clean and orderly, and I am in the present. What I do is present and mindful. My prayers are free and full of surrender.

I like Wednesday nights. Even if I have to work, I bask in the solitude and am grateful for the renewal.

The rest of the week is nothing like this; a sharp contrast, in fact. It is loud. We all too often find ourselves exhausted from pushing each other’s buttons, suffering as we punish each other with threats (i.e. “stop running in the house or you can’t have any blueberries!!!”: this threat happens with more animosity and more frequently than you can possibly imagine!), and making countless excuses as to why we can’t be present with each other or ourselves.

Moments of compromise, hugs, mediation and communication DO happen – a lot actually. Yes, my entire day is devoted to the kinks that are being “family”. Work and homemaking and marriage and motherhood are all integrated into one big goopy mess from the moment that I roll out of bed (or before, as Ethan is banging on my door, Chris is hinting that he might explode, Verity is nursing and wetting the sheets underneath me, and I lay there: OH MY GOD. THIS IS LIFE???) and this is before 7 am. Yes, work-at-home-motherdom in all its pros and cons. Or am I focusing on the cons for the moment? Forgive me.

This is why the hour I have to myself for the ENTIRE WEEK is so savory to me. Some people get this solitude 99% of their daily lives or in the very least while in their daily commute in the car — but maybe that keeps some of them inflexible and unadaptable to life’s chaos and inconveniences. I am grateful for the character building, challenging tight rope that is full time motherhood, for those reasons. But every one needs the silence, the reflection, the mindful energy. That is how we stay balanced and tap into the parts of ourselves that are centered and steady.

My prayer is that I can bring about the inner-peace and calm of this one hour through out my week, in the midst of work and house projects and life with 3 other full-time family members. The husband just walked in the door five minutes ago and already the home is filled with needs, ideas, and chatter. The bubble is burst

And so, goodbye.

She’s been at this all week– it’s so funny to turn around and see her walk across the room. Surreal is maybe a more accurate word!

And no, she is not wearing a bra. I am making the top for a dress for her cousin and I was using her as a model to make sure it fit when she headed off towards Chris who was feeding our worm bin, lol.

Enjoy!
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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…

First – Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Second – I’ve stolen a few minutes break in my day to share some photos with you:

Let’s go through the front door:

You may notice the rad (IMHO) antique forest green couches Chris found for me on Craigslist (for next to no $$$!). Don’t ya just wanna curl up? I love that our living room has no TV, too – its a great area to just hang, play board games, knit, read, whatever. I really love it here. (Good job, babe!):

Babies love it here too:

Ethan spends the bulk of his time in one of three places:
1. the “school room” area of our main room (the dining and living room):

2. his avocado colored, “enchanted forest” themed room, where Verity often joins him:

3. or his kitchen, inside my kitchen:

If you don’t find me in that cozy living room, you might find me in the office/media room/ guest room. Which is almost unpacked – or can’t you tell? HA! At least the mustard yellow paint is drying…

Here (the office), I dream of one day watching copius amounts of Gilmore Girls. For now it acts as a sauna for brooding baby chicks and sprouting seeds:

In current news, today is St. Patrick’s Day, and we are celebrating! We had green eggs for breakfast:

Made green raisin cinnamon bread, properly adorned with butter and raw honey:

Wore green, of course – but took it a step further by making “Hulk” neck vein impersonations, because he is also green…

We also sprouted clover, which was a gift in Ethan’s hidden “pot of gold”. And read stories about St. Patrick. And listened to Celtic music all day. And watched “Riverdance”. And we are going to go see the Irish dancers at the library this evening. And returning home to a dinner of corned beef brisket, cabbage, and potatoes. (When the kids go to bed, we are gladly sipping some whiskey sours.)

What else have we been up to? As if that’s not enough?

Well, we have been spending time in the backyard finally! We’ve hung some linens, marked off the coop/run area and dug out two vegetable beds. We scoped out the prime fort location near a butterfly bush and began a fairy home nearby. This isn’t the best picture, but it is fairly big and brown and daunting…

AND LASTLY, I discovered to my amusement that I really enjoy needle felting. Not the bloody fingers part so much but the wool figurines made in way less time than knitting part. This new craft has helped me quickly fill up our nature table as we prepare for Spring.

Here you can see some of it – the felted Mother Earth in the back there with a little wooden “St. Patrick”, and their woodland friends – a white rabbit, green turtle, and large whimsical mushroom – all needle felted. In the tree hangs a butterfly and an angel. Spring “flower children” are coming to join Mother Earth SOON – this weekend marks the Spring Solstice! Awake, flowers, awake!

“Where is the book in which the teacher can read about what teaching is? The children themselves are this book. We should not learn to teach out of any book other than the one lying open before us and consisting of the children themselves. In order to read in this book, however, we need the widest possible interest in each individual child, and nothing must divert us from this.”
- Rudolf Stiener, Human Values in Education

“Every parent’s question: ‘What are the firm boundaries this situation calls for, and how will my child find freedom within these boundaries?’ …
“It is through our inner attitude that we show our love. It’s not what we do, it’s who we are in the doing of the things, that speaks to our child.”
- Sharifa Oppenheimer, Heaven on Earth; A Handbook for Parents of Young Children

Chewing on this.

Today was rough. It was pack up and haul it out day. We loaded up a storage cube here in Portland with everything we still own (minus some things that didn’t fit that was a bummer for me.) I admit I had a tearful runaway bride moment: “CALL THE WHOLE THING OFF!”

See, I do so love Portland. The people, the vibe, the houses, the MAX… but its time to take that next step and I know it, deep down. It’s that inner knowledge that propels me onward in trust despite my lack of of a calculated plan.

My day got a whole lot better when the following conversation transpired with my emotionally intelligent 4 year old:

Ethan: “How many days til we move again?”

Me: “The day after tomorrow. How are you feeling?”

Ethan: “Sad…”

Me: “I thought you said you were excited?”

Ethan: “Okay, it’s like this: you have to be in the mood for it. Like when you don’t think you are in the mood for a grilled cheese sandwich but once you start eating it, you get used to it and you like it. That’s like moving. You get used to it and you like it.”

BRILLIANT. Thank you, Ethan, for once again imparting your wisdom on your silly mama.