A few years ago, when Grace (now 4) was a baby I drove all 5 kids down to California. I was a bit nervous about being 1200 miles from home and not having another adult to share road-trip responsibilities. Think about it; every potty break for 1200 miles involved unbuckling 3 kids in car seats and bringing 6 people into a public bathroom. We had a blast, though. We had a cooler filled with car snacks, we made a CD of the kids’ favorite music and we stayed overnight at a hotel with a swimming pool. I wasn’t even gone one night, though when I started missing my husband.
Valentine's Chocolate for Kids
He was building our second restaurant and spent over 12 hours a day, 7 days a week on construction. My mission in California was to pick up a uhaul trailer, a pizza prep fridge, empty our storage unit (collecting dust for 8 years), spend a week at a beach house in San Diego with my Dad and attend my sister’s wedding.
The trip was a big deal for me, being alone and fully responsible for all 5 kids, missing my husband and visiting family alone was strange. Checking into a hotel as the only adult with 5 kids was strange, renting a uHaul trailer was strange. These were grown-up things that I just had never done before, alone.
The time we spent at the beach was wonderful. My Dad and step mom are amazing, two of my favorite people in the world. When they married, He had two teenage daughters (me & my sister) and she had two teenage sons and a 7 yr old daughter. We’re all grown now, that week at the beach was so much fun, I’d never even met my brothers’ wives before and since then they’ve each had babies.
At my sister’s wedding I was in an odd mood. I was missing my husband and a little annoyed with my sister’s obsessive attention to detail. She wasn’t a bridezilla, but I still wasn’t very tolerant of her that weekend. Somehow dressing and grooming myself plus 5 children seemed a little more worthy-of-whining than whatever she was complaining about. I think I held it together, I kept telling myself “That’s just how she is” and “Her intentions are pure.” She wasn’t trying to stress anyone out, she just wanted things perfect. She’s changed so much since she’s become a mother. I hope now that she rolls with the punches a little better.
Valentines for my Kids
It was wonderful being there with my sister & mother. Before that point, it had been years since I’d seen her and many more years since I’d seen the two of them together. The late nights we spent at my sister’s house that weekend will never be forgotten, we played games, chatted (was there wine?- so much for remembering) and my kids entertained us. Still- the mood was weird; away from home, alone with all the kids, seeing people I hadn’t seen in forever. It was just a weird mood.
At the reception (which was lovely) my dad made a speech that’s echoed back to me so many times. Perhaps my weird mood made it stick in my mind. Either way, my Dad is a really good speaker. I I wish I’d inherited that trait. He knows how to keep a crowd’s attention, how to tell a story and how to stay on topic. He starts off entertaining and ends with applause, every time. He’s always done well in sales and never had trouble with the ladies.
Dad & Vicki went through 3 different spouses (collectively) until they found one another. His speech (or was it a toast?) mainly said that it’s important to show people how much you love them.
“Every day I try to out-love her and every day she beats me at it. One day I get up to make her breakfast and she’s got my breakfast & coffee on a tray, my computer fired up for work and my favorite towel hanging in the bathroom.” (And my quote may totally be remembered wrong, but that’s close enough)
I knew they were very loving, several years ago I remember her staring into his eyes and saying “I’d eat bees for you, babe” and it was the sweetest thing.
Anyway, that speech and the idea of competitive love-showing has brought me so much joy over the past few years.
I used to think divorce was a sign of failure. I used to think it was awful, giving up like that. In spite of that belief, whenever our marriage was in trouble I’d always be the one who wanted to run away. I think Dad’s speech, and the echo of it playing in my head for 4 years, has made a big difference.
It was such a profound idea, the idea of constantly showing love, that it took him 3 marriages to figure it out. Everything happens for a reason and I think, today, that every spouse and ex-spouse in my parental background is better off, shaped by the people they’ve chosen to love. I’m no longer feeling critical of their “failed” marriages because the things they learned about themselves, about love and about life are successes, by any measure.
I’m also no longer compelled to feel “unloved” by my husband whenever we disagree. It took a lot of fighting for us to come to a place of constant communication, but we’re here. Fighting isn’t failing, it’s just an aggressive attempt to learn how to get along. In every fight, isn’t there a seed of wanting peace?
Our kids have taught us the value of constantly showing our love, too. Love letters are always being exchanged in our house. A couple months ago I bought a few heart-shaped platters. They were a hit; whenever I serve food on them the kids think it’s special. My mom gifted the children with their own teeny little mailboxes and they’re always sending each other love notes.
This year for Valentine’s day I picked up a sake set covered in hearts for the kids. We’re going to have a tea party (because they love tea parties) I doubt these dishes will ever see real sake, but the kids will love that the cups are teeny and the hearts will remind them that they are loved.
Maybe some day my husband and I will go out for a romantic Valentine’s Day Dinner. There’s plenty of time for that when the kids are grown. Until then, we’re surrounded by love, and the little picture of my sister’s wedding serves as a reminder each time I see it that maybe, if I get up early enough and don’t get caught, I can sneak in more love-showing than anyone in the family. Because that’s how I want to roll.
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Here are a few sample love letters I’m using for my kids. I’ve tried to steer clear of labeling “you’re so ____” and make them expressions of love, rather than pride. Enjoy…
Dear_________,
I love you. I’m having a lot of fun being your mommy. I like the stories you tell me and I’m glad you enjoy your new haircut. I’m looking forward to many more years as your mommy.
Dear________,
Happy Valentine’s Day. I wanted to tell you that I’m glad to be your mommy. I noticed that you enjoy chocolate, so I hope you like this gift. Thank you for being my kid.
Dear _________,
Hello, this is mom. I have a message for you. You are special to me. Every day I am happy to have you in our family. I hope you are happy to be here, too.
Dear________,
I’ve had so much fun watching you grow up. You might think you have a lot to learn, but I am learning so much from you. We can never know what lies ahead, only what lies within and I’ve noticed that within you, you have so many gifts and talents. Watching you use them and share them with the world is truly one of the best things about being a mother.
Dear_______,
Thank you for being you. I know it sounds lame, but sometimes you are exactly who I need to be around. I’m so glad that you share so much of your life and your thoughts with me. I might tease you about talking so much, but to be honest, no day would be complete without your narrative. I love listening to the way you think and your perceptions about the world. Every day, you amaze me with your insights, I’m very lucky to be learning from you.
Valentines for Teens
So what are you doing to show your kids love this Valentine’s Day? I used to be annoyed with Hallmark and retailers for commercializing Valentine’s Day. I used to feel that they “took the meaning away” by including loves other than romantic love. I feel so differently today, though. Love knows no limits, the show of love should also be limitless. Romantic love grows into big family love, if you’re lucky.
My 2 yr old is reaching for a basket. She’s in my arms and it’s just out of her reach. She grunts and says “Help me reach it mommy” (but not like that, it’s more like 2 words “hewlpme reachitmommy”) and I lean over so she can reach.
I discover she was really reaching for the crochet hook inside. It’s hooked around one of the basket’s bottom pieces of straw, so the basket comes, too. She laughs “gottit bakstick mommy” and I turn to see why she’s laughing. She’s fumbling to get the basket off the hook.
I’d rather her play with the basket than the hook. It looks like she’s caught a fish. I tell her so and she thinks it’s funny.
She frees the crochet hook and looks in the basket. (which seems way more fun than the hook now, luckily) There’s nothing in there, obviously. She gives me a funny look. “Got fish in there?” She asks me. I said “You do?” and she decides that this is fun and plays along.
“Yeah, I got jellyfish in there, hold it.” I had a traumatic jellyfish issue in Hawaii when I was 9. Portugese man-o-wars, to be exact. I strung them all over my arms and stomped around the beach like a sea monster. A few hours later I was soaking in the tub with herbs and potions under the supervision of the local witch doctor, waiting for the swelling to go down and for signs of emergency, which would involve an air lift to the hospital. It wasn’t much fun. Nor was it fun that my Grandma stood over in the doorway, alerting everyone in the neighborhood that my breasts had begun to develop. To this day, I think she scared them. I’m not messing with jellyfish, I tell my daughter.
“No way, jellyfish sting, I don’t want to hold jellyfish.” “Oh” she looks down, a little dismayed, so I suggest she catches another kind of fish. She dumps the jellyfish back into the imaginary sea and catches “nahwahn fish” (another one fish) to show me. We admire the fish. it’s wet and floppy. She says that it “yooks yummy” but I’m not so easily convinced. She wants to go upstairs and show the girls. But first, she dumps out the new fish in order to catch more jellyfish.
So I go upstairs with her because it’s time for the nightly bedtime ritual anyway. I’ve mentioned before that we don’t have bedtimes, instead we just hang out and the kids still fall asleep.
Just because we don’t have a bedtime, it doesn’t mean we don’t go to bed, and it doesn’t mean we don’t have similar bedtime rituals. Ours are just more fun
Generally, We snuggle in on the 9 yr old’s bed, I go through a nightly checklist “did you brush your teeth?” and when the answer isn’t “yes of course” I sometimes ask “are you going to?” (only one sometimes doesn’t want to. A piggyback ride down the stairs usually solves it, she doesn’t like to be downstairs alone) Then we make sure feet are clean, especially in the summer. We make sure jammies are on, I collect the dirty clothes basket, helping make sure their toy are put away and sometimes we watch a movie.
The other day we had a great time making friendship bracelets. Sometimes we just tell stories or play word games or board games. Usually we read books, They each pick one (because I can guarantee I won’t fall asleep through 1 book each. If I’m still conscious when those are done, I’ll read more. The limit of 1 book is imposed because I tend to fall asleep reading and jumble the words, which the find amusing until they discover I can’t read anymore.
Tonight, I went in to escort Evelyn & her jellyfish, then read to them (not knowing exactly what was in store, I never do).
When we reached the top of the stairs, she goes in to my 16 yr old’s room first. “Embahlee, yookit, i got jellyfish. see jellyfish. yookit me bakstick (basket)” and she proceeds to show Emilee her basket and Emilee is notably impressed. Then we head out (cordial goodbyes and goodnights included) While I’m busy giving Emilee a goofy look, Evelyn is yelling to me from the hall “gum on mommy yets go” We arrive into the younger girl’s room and Evelyn goes from girl to girl, telling them about her jellyfish. They’re almost completely ignoring her and she’s annoyed, so I announce out loud. “Evelyn has caught some jellyfish in her basket and came all the way upstairs to show you girls.”
Within 5 minutes, we’re all sitting on the bed, pretending to catch fish in the ocean from our boat (the bed).
So yes, it’s true. We don’t have bedtimes.
But we do have bedtime rituals, which consist of enjoying each moment together until our bodies would rather sleep.
We sing songs, we make art projects, we watch documentaries, web videos, broadway shows and silent movies and old musicals or music videos, we draw or write or work out puzzles in schoolbooks or coloring books. Our bedtime stories, when we read them (sometimes 20 minutes a day, sometimes 90 minutes, sometimes zero minutes a day, even a week at times) may be fiction or nonfiction, color or black and white, classic or new or used, bought with allowance or given as a gift. They may be bestsellers, and sometimes they suck. Sometimes they’re not even in English, or a language we understand. It’s not about the books, it’s about the time we spend together. And falling asleep should be a pleasant part of one’s day.
So no, we don’t have a bedtime and we don’t fight about going to sleep. I’m not concerned about their sleeping habits because I don’t make a habit of scheduling things that will interfere with their natural sleepy times.
I’m not afraid that they won’t “learn to sleep” because they already know how to sleep. I don’t feel the need to manipulate their sleep times. It’s exhausting enough keeping up with their awake times.
After the deep-sea fishing expedition, we settled down. When the girls agreed upon tonight’s bedtime plan, we were to watch Dora the Explorer, then the 2nd half of Hannah Montana (they fell asleep last time, so we agreed that we’d have to watch the rest tonight)
The kids laughed at me when I mistakenly referred to “The Hoedown Throw Down” as “The Barnyard Stomp.” I was impressed that they knew the entire dance. That’s Gabriella’s favorite song. Because Gabriella got to play her favorite song for me, we needed to play Madelyn’s, too. She’s 6 and teeny, shrimpy, petite and squeaky. But she knows all the words to “The Climb” and I really had to fight back the tears. Who knew Hannah Montana had such a positive message? I sure hope she maintains her good-girl image.
Anyway, I asked the girls where they wanted the dolls (because the bed was covered with barbies, all of whom were arranged in rows, with swimsuits and beach blankets (made of socks and washcloths)
Grace swooshed them all off the bed into a pile in one motion. I started picking them up & said “Which toybox do these belong in?’ and Gabriella (not at all offended by Grace’s swooshing, by the way) said “They don’t go in a toybox, mom. They have a life, you know. They each go to their own houses, and she proceeded to place them all over the room, carefully into lifelike positions. The other girls seemed to know where each doll’s house is and what position they should be in. Most of the dolls were in beds, but some were sitting and reading, others were on their computer, one had to get in the car & drive all night to get to the airport and some were on the phone (presumably with each other)
The putting Barbies “away” took about ten minutes and when it was complete, I asked that the light be turned off so we could watch the movie. Someone pushed play & we watched the rest of the film, snuggled in together. By the time it ended, only I was awake.
I headed downstairs feeling like the luckiest mom in the world. When I hear other moms say “I know you don’t have a bedtime but I need to put my kids to bed at 7:30 or I will go crazy” I just shake my head. I’m not sure what they picture, but nothing is more fun or relaxing than allowing sleep to come, giving in to what the children want and just being present with them, approaching the end of the day with love and patience, allowing things to be put in order and letting love define the time, rather than the clock.
So what if it was almost 10:30 when I left their room. Instead of going in at 6am to wake them up (before the sun rises) for school, I get to sip my coffee (relishing one of the rare silent moments in my day) tiptoe in and kiss their foreheads. I get to make pancakes in peace and quiet, wondering which child will wake up to the smell & greet me with stinky kisses first. I’m not a morning person. Peacefulness and love, to begin and end each day, that’s what I need for my sanity.
I really love it when I realize I’m failing at something because it gives me a clear and present opportunity to improve. Seriously.
So a friend of mine, who is enrolled in a political science class, emails me to send me a quote from a Supreme court judge who is dealing with a case where a high school student was suing for a 1st amendment violation. The quote is:
when States developed public education systems in the early 1800’s, no one doubted the government’s ability to educate and discipline children as private schools did. Like their private counterparts, early public schools were not places for freewheeling debates or exploration of competing ideas. Rather, teachers instilled “a core of common values” in students and taught them self-control. Reese 23; A. Potter & G. Emerson, The School and the Schoolmaster: A Man-ual 125 (1843) (“By its discipline it contributes, insensibly, to generate a spirit of subordination to lawful authority, a power of self-control, and a habit of postponing present indulgence to a greater future good . . .”
By that measure, apparently, schools really are succeeding. They’re reaching their initial goal, as planned, to raise generations of Americans who don’t debate or ask questions, blindly trusting their leadership. So there it is.
Me being me, however, I kept replaying the words in my mind throughout the day, emphasizing each syllable differently, to see if the meaning could possibly be anything else, more innocent, more sinister, ANYTHING.
I’m moving through my “tasks-I-do-when-the-kids-are-very-involved-in-something” like hanging the laundry and doing the dishes. The kids were making miniature books upstairs, measuring, cutting, planning, designing… I overhear a fight between the girls and I listen long enough to get the gist of it and then I head upstairs to “say something.”
I swear, I should just keep my mouth shut. Why am I homeschooling when words of wisdom like this can extinguish any debate and communication that my kids DESERVE to engage in. Here’s what I said:
“I am sure that when she called it her room she wasn’t trying to minimize the fact that it’s your room, too. Stop picking apart every word that she says and trying to make it into a fight. So she said it was her room. Big deal. it’s your room, too. And just because she says “my room” that doesn’t make it any less “your room”
Then I went downstairs. Surely in my wake they were filed with peacefulness at having the situation resolved, right? Fat chance.
So in one bossy-mom-sick-of-hearing-the-arguing-incident, I managed to squash one of my favorite personal traits, and that is the picking-apart-of-language-to-get-the-deeper-meaning and also, standing up for oneself, defending property and debating semantics…. all of it, out the window, just because my sensitive ears were bothered.
Debate is so very important for civilized society. I hate conflict, my sister and I fought a lot as kids. Is there a link? We always got in trouble for fighting. Does that matter? As a mom I am always wanting to protect my kids (even from one another), but when I look back at my childhood, I don’t remember very much fighting. I don’t think I was as much influenced by the fights as I was by the feeling that “fighting is bad.”
I am so sick, today, of examining every thought I have in order to determine whether or not it’s worth keeping or tossing. The inclination to squash their fights and sort things out for them definitely needs to go. Sibling rivalry is totally a healthy way to learn about communication. Animal siblings do it and humans should, too.
Had their fight continued, they both might have come away with a deeper understanding of the need to communicate precisely. They might have physically hurt one another. They might have come away bitter about the distinction between mine and yours. they might have revisited the argument months later when the other sister made the dire mistake of saying “my room” instead of “our room” or perhaps the room-claimer would have been able to explain her way out of it, or apologize. Either way. I shouldn’t have stepped in. Kids have the right to communicate their feelings with one another honestly and openly. The best thing I can probably do for them is to model communication skills. Eventually, they’ll copy. I see this every day, they copy my good and my bad “behavior.”
This is their journey, not mine. If they feel the need to say hurtful things to one another, they deserve to see the honest result of that decision, not ME standing there, passing judgment upon their character, criticizing their instinctive communication, evaluating their worth, or predicting a life of misery.
I reserve the right, though, to call it like I see it. Instead of “seeing” a fight that needs resolved, I could have chosen to see “kids that could use some apple juice” and shouted upstairs to see who wants some.
While I probably won’t be marching upstairs to force peace upon them anymore (especially if I get an ipod for Xmas) I can totally discuss conflict resolution methods with them during peaceful times. In fact, we do that all the time.
This is where media comes in. Books, television and movies are filled with conflict and almost always, the viewers can think of different ways that the main character could have handled the situation.
The Thomas Jefferson method of homeschooling, which, along with the trivium, is the backbone for all classical education curricula, is highly dependent upon discussion. That’s right, talking. Our house sounds like a hen house sometimes with all of the girls involved in lengthy debates over the books they’re reading or the movies they’ve seen.
(Hey- another reason I need an ipod, my older girls & I can listen to audio books)
Anyway- the literature and books you read, discuss and debate become part of you. Some families use this as an excuse for limiting the books they allow their children to readfall in love with learn from. A lady in our local homeschool group wouldn’t let her son read Harry Potter because of this. I’m so NOT into censorship, and I believe that there’s good to be found in everything. We loved Harry Potter, and saw every movie the minute it opened, waited in line at midnight for the books to be released (in costume, no less) Our debates and discussions about the HP series were fantastic, and none of us came away with thoughts of malice. How could we?
So if anyone can name a book or movie where the characters debate everything based upon the meanings of the words, something that my 9 and 6-yr-olds would appreciate, then please let me know. Because this is the depth of how far I feel comfortable intervening. I can’t wait to look back & say “remember when you girls used to fight about every single word.” Hopefully the end result will be a deep and full understanding of the workings of language and increased, tried-and-tested communication skills.
And the pointless after-words: (because I don’t “do” short stories very well) is that on November 19th he went in and once January rolls around we can be quite sure and positive that every last one of them will be gone and we can MOVE ON from this phase in life (as much as we love it, of course)
Trying to explain to the kids was funny, though. They like to wrestle with him and jump on him. Madelyn (6) was worried to pieces when she heard he had surgery, she thought for sure there was something wrong. I mean, people don’t just GET surgery for no reason, right?
And Grace (4) was concerned that we “didn’t want any more kids.” She thought we were saying that we “don’t want kids anymore” and she was crying, she said “But we still want you” and it was the most adorable, pathetic thing, she just about broke my heart.
I spent some time reassuring her and explaining it a little more, I am sure that she understands better now. It’s just a reminder to take the time to communicate with kids (to their understanding) and to stay “connected” to be sure that they’re feeling secure and safe.
So anyway- that’s the biggest thing I am thankful for. Here are a few others:
1- I’m grateful for the luxury to work from home, control my own income and set my own hours, I wish I could share that with more moms.
2- I’m grateful that even though our families are all so far away, we’re able to keep in touch over Facebook and the kids can have relationships with our families, too even though we rarely see them in real life.
3- I’m grateful for my kids who are so fun to be around. Nothing is more fun than watching them grow up and embrace this amazing world that we live in. I love their righteous indignation at the world’s injustices. I love their questioning nature, grilling me for details so they can come to their own conclusions. I love to see their passions develop, to watch them learn about the world simply by doing what they enjoy. I love how quickly they notice the beauty in everything around them.
I see a rock, they see a million colorful spots all coming together into one mass that looks gray from just a few inches away. I see a ladybug and they see a small life, crawling along for a reason. They wonder where he’s going and why. They wonder what he’s feeling- is he scared of them? I wonder if I should step on it.
4- I’m grateful for blogging because of the wonderful friends I’ve made online and the women who inspire me, encourage me and make me a better mom
5- I’m grateful for my real-life friends, nothing can quite compare to girlfriends, can it? I hope that you are all enjoying this day with your families, and looking forward to dinner at the Indian restaurant in December, the roller-skating party, the Mom’s Xmas party, and exchanging cheer this holiday season.
6- I am grateful to live in a world where everything we want is within reach. Knowledge is free, a diverse field of perspectives and views enable us to see our own more clearly, and humans are ready to share their experiences, interest and knowledge with one-another, for the good of all.
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A word about our Thanksgiving “Dinner.”
The way that cooking has developed in our home over the past few months, we’re taking a very nontraditional approach to Thanksgiving this year.
I slow-roasted the turkey overnight (yep, it was completely frozen when I stuck it in the oven at 5 p.m. and I just took it out at 5 a.m. When the kids get up we’ll have banana pancakes and as they’re ready they’ll pop into the kitchen to make their side-dish with me. I haven’t done Thanksgiving in such a small kitchen before, so we plan to just cook and eat all day, without a specific meal time, probably. It’s not like we all fit at the table anyway.
We generally go see a movie on Thanksgiving but we’ve decided to save up money to attend the Unschooler’s Adventure cruise to Jamaica, Haiti and Cozumel in April.
It’s a very lofty goal, but our travel come-documentary that we’ve been working on for the past 6 years is coming into fruition as we speak. We have assembled an awesome team of producers who are passionate about the product and have worked their butts off making it something better than even we imagined. (and we’re quite imaginative)
I wish I could announce more about that, give me a week or so and you’ll hear all about it. Let’s just say that we have quite an adventure planned over the next year.
About that Cruise- Jamaican beaches, The warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico, Ancient Mayan Ruins, can I even express how much my heart swells to think that my family could be present in the same space as something so fascinating and ancient.
And also to share a great blog I found from a family who lives in their RV. It’s called Where the Fuhkaui. I love their blog’s tagline:
“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely. Broad, wholesome, charitable views can not be acquired by vegetating in one’s little corner of Earth.” – Mark Twain
Sometimes when homeschoolers or unschoolers are trying to explain how life and learning are naturally integrated, they use the example of cooking. I tried to intellectualize it in the article Cooking with Kids, but last night’s dinner hour was particularly good example of this “in action.”
All my girls love to cook. In fact, I was telling a friend the other day that sometimes we don’t have official “meals” because there’s someone cooking something all day long. A plate full of crackers with melted cheese, a blender full of fruit smoothies, a recipe someone saw on TV or invented from scratch. With so many people who like to cook, dividing our meals into specific menus really made it more work than is necessary.
Maddy (6) & Gabriella (8) like cook and serve food. When I am in my room working and the older girls are upstairs doing whatever t is older girls do (gossip, watch TV, write stories and song, dance or listen to music…) Maddy & Gabriella like to come around and offer everyone food.
Last night I was making dinner and Maddy came in, saying “I need a pan… the noodle-y kind”
In the past, I may have said “what for?” or otherwise grilled her, and come to the conclusion that since I’m making Dinner, she doesn’t need to cook. Instead, though, I just accepted that she needed a pan and decided to work on dinner alongside her, as equals.
So I opened the dishwasher (they rarely get a chance to cool off and get put away until we need them again) and I showed her all the clean noodle pans, she rejoiced with so much enthusiasm, saying “You are a master.” I thought that was pretty cute, but the conversation just kept getting better.
So we’re cooking together, she told Emilee that she’d make her a Top Ramen (blech) She knew how to prepare it all by herself. I wanted to carry the pan full of water for her, but we settled on having me bring it down from the sink. (me, being a control freak)
So she carried it to the stove, not missing a single drop. (physics)
Afterward, I said “Wow Maddy, I underestimated you. You really kept that balanced well” and she said “thank you. I know how to cook things because you showed me. I can just see you doing things and it makes me see that I can do them, too.” (self awareness, love of learning, gratitude, communication)
I was unloading the dishwasher when she said that and it was so relaxed and easy just being together. She was so proud, so articulate. (LIFE- kids are wiser than we give them credit for)
We made jello together, too. It was her first time making it. She was surprised that it was made with hot water because when she eats it, it’s cold. We discussed how the hot water melts the crystals and makes them swell up and the refrigeration glues them back together. (chemistry, physics) We measured water (doubling the recipe for math)
Both Maddy and Grace wanted to pour the crystals into the bowl. It takes 2 boxes for our family, so Grace (4) poured the first one and Maddy poured the second one. I pointed out that the pink Jello mix was the same color as their jammies. When we poured water into it, the girls pointed out that the red liquid was the same color as my shirt. We discussed the idea that everything pink turns red when wet and decided that it depends what it is. Pink toys won’t turn red. pink paint won’t turn red and their jammies would just look darker. (science, math, communication)
When the noodles she was making her sister were ready, I brought them out with a fork and asked “does she like the noodles with a lot of broth or a little? Maddy said a little and we both agreed that she preferred more firm noodles rather than mushy ones. Although Maddy likes them better mushy and I don’t like them at very much all. Maddy said “Everybody likes different things mommy, and that’s OK” (scientific observation, communication, Psychology)
Then she said “nobody would like cabbage and radish and (list of yucky things) in their noodles” so I said “there are some things everyone agrees upon, huh” I reminded her that perhaps in some country, some people eat that every day and it’s their favorite thing. (social studies)
She carried the soup upstairs to her sister, brought down the dirty dishes and said “Mom, I love cooking with you.”
These are the times that I wish more people understood. There’s no need to “make learning fun” because it already is. All we need to do is relax, and share our lives with our children. imagine- trying to pack all of that into a lesson plan for a first grader. Look at the insanity of standardized education. Look at what we would NOT have learned if I had said “I’m making dinner, sweetie. get out of the kitchen.”
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Upstairs, while we were cooking Dinner and the three oldest were watching a movie, Emilee asked Gabriella (8) what she should put as her facebook status.
Gabriella’s response:
” follow your heart, your heart will lead you to where you want to go.”
Shhhhh… I once promised my oldest daughter that I’d never publish a picture of her on my blog without her permission. I just couldn’t resist this one, though. It looks like we’re parked at Albertson’s here, and she’s snapping photos of her dream car. Something about the silly shoes (sorry, dear, the artfully decorated shoes) and the yellow mustang just looked awesome to me. (She has great taste)
Sixteen
Luckily, she’s also informed us that ANYTHING with an engine and wheels will suffice. And she can wait until February, she says. What a lucky mamma I am.
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And now for the camera review portion of this post, whereby I qualify that I have not yet received the Nikon D90 that Nikon may or may not yet have decided to send me (emphasis on “yet”). This photo was, in fact taken with my old camera, I just stumbled upon it in my files today. If it was taken with the Nikon you’d surely see the aura of her desire for freedom and independence being cast upon the mustang.
I know people who think kids shouldn’t go to weddings or funerals. The first time I came across this perspective, I was shocked. Those are really important things in life- why shouldn’t children be included? The answer I was given is that “Old people don’t want a bunch of kids running around” in reference to the funerals and “People spend a lot of money on weddings, they don’t want to pay for other people’s kids.”
That concept was so foreign to me. I was raised in an environment where children brought joy. When I was a child, everywhere we went, old people were happy to see us. We had big family gatherings and very rarely were children banished to a “kids table.”
At gatherings with the “no kids allowed” crowd, I noticed that there was a kids table. I also noticed that the old people actually DID want to be around the children. I wondered if any of the wedding couples actually may have enjoyed the presence of children.
I stopped attending “no kids” events and decided to bring my children to things, like my heart was telling me. I stopped discussing it with the leader of the “no kids crowd” and no one said anything rude to me about it. No one was rude to my children. Sure, there were whispers. In my opinion, if you’re whispering something naughty you KNOW you shouldn’t be saying it. I don’t care if people whisper. I care that my kids are exposed to life’s rituals and experiences as children. Keeping children away from weddings and funerals is downright abusive to everyone involved.
In my world, children bring the light.
At a funeral, children are given the opportunity to mourn with a group, to see that everyone cries, to cry with others and know that all is well. Experiencing raw human emotion is VERY HEALTHY. After the funeral, while children may not want to sit inside with the adults, eating comfort food and retelling memories, their laughter in the backyard brings a REALITY CHECK perspective to everyone inside.
Kids give good hugs
kids don’t judge, they’re honest and REAL with their feedback
Kids remind us that LIFE still exists.
Kids give us a REASON to go on.
Weddings are often a magical, love-filled environment. How can we withhold that from children? The centerpieces, the flowers, the decor, the mini lights, the music, the fabrics, the candles are as close to real-life fairytopia as it gets. Why on earth would the spirited, loving presence of children be unwelcome?
In my opinion, weddings without children are hollow, empty, and just plain depressing. Standing around getting drunk is really NOT what life is about.
I am sure that it’s one of the consequences of institutionalized education that makes people believe that children should go through life without attending weddings and funerals. The belief that childhood is about “preparing for life” rather than living is truly EVIL.
Imagine going through your whole life and not even seeing a baby until yours is born. It happens. Or how about never seeing a wedding until you’re an adult. No wonder we have BrideZillas. They think the wedding ACTUALLY MATTERS. It’s not the wedding that matters, dear, it’s the marriage and the life that you build together. Will it be a life of excluding children because they’re inconvenient (or more likely, can’t afford their own gift)? What next, will you exclude the elderly, too?
As a mother of six girls, I look forward to up to six amazing weddings, filled with children in pretty dresses. My younger children will attend their older sister’s weddings (not any time soon) and my first grandchildren will probably attend their Aunt’s weddings. I have 4 nephews, 3 nieces and another (neice, I think) coming soon. They’re all very small and are already invited to my oldest daughter’s wedding (not any time soon) because my girls love kids and because if children aren’t welcome, I’m not going.
Children are an important part of society and NEED to be included in rite-of-passage events and life transitions, both for the benefit of the child AND the benefit of everyone else that’s present.
An environment without children is not natural. It’s not normal. It’s not healthy. Children provide perspective (what’s important in life) and a sense of wonder.
The inability to tolerate the presence of children is a sign of serious mental illness.
Wanna talk about children’s behavior?
I know a lot of people hate that word, a lot of unschoolers hate that word, but that’s what comes up when you talk about having children at fancy restaurants and at weddings.
Children learn by practicing and by experiencing.
A child who can think will not climb on the table at a white linen restaurant. It’s painfully obvious to even the most dimwitted of humans that certain situations require a certain level of decorum.
Kids feed off of the energy around them and in a quiet place where conversations are low, they will generally only make “inappropriate noise” when no one is talking to them. It’s a parent’s job to keep children engaged in activities that befit the location. THIS is socialization, not “recess.”
I have an entire rant on ‘recess” that I’m saving for another day.
Children “behave” the way they’re expected to. Period.
A culture that’s critical of children for wearing their energy-level on their sleeve is ill-equipped to handle all SORTS of reality, not just the fact that kids exist.
I am sure that if we all ran around as much as children do, we’d be more fit and healthy.
There’s absolutely NOTHING that a child can do in public that’s of much consequence in the long term. Nothing they break can’t be fixed. Their presence will NOT cause me to enjoy myself less. If anyone present finds that they are enjoying themselves less because a child is present then I would speculate that they weren’t welcome as children and are, perhaps, in need of child-therapy, to learn that children NEED to be included in life. Children are the present, not JUST the future.
Kids exist. Kids are alive NOW. Kids don’t need to get older before they take part in life. Weddings and funerals are important parts of life. Kids belong at weddings and funerals. Weddings and funerals need children. Their “behavior” is irrelevant. Their presence is invaluable.
(Edited 11-13-09 to say that the National Organization for Women agrees with me and said it better, even though I said it first)
Watching my kids learn has been the most fascinating aspect of not sending them to school. Partly, I’m sad for the children whose education isn’t self-driven, because the “love of learning” face that toddlers are known for grows more beautiful the older a child gets.
At 4, Grace is very helpful around the house. Recently, she wanted to help me fold laundry. She sat by my side, wadding things up into little blobs while I obsessively created perfect folded squares. She looked at her pile and said “Mommy, show me how you fold.” So I did, we started with long sleeve shirts and she mastered it after 2-3 of them. Madelyn (6) came in and Grace was beaming at her new “pile” of perfectly folded shirts.
At 6, Madelyn is enjoying writing notes. Of course it’s faster to speak out loud but she is enjoying writing notes. She’s been playing Farmville and Yoville and some other silly FaceBook games and she has friends who write her notes while she plays. She loves chatting online with her friends and has decided that she’d rather communicate with everyone in writing. I must have spelled “I love you” out loud for her a thousand times last week. She doesn’t want me to write it for her to copy, she just wants me to say the names of the letters, including spaces and punctuation, for her to transcribe. She runs into the room several times a day to ask “Mom, how do you spell “get your stinky feed off of my pillow or you can’t be on my bed anymore” or maybe “Please please please get out of the bathroom I need to pee.” If I don’t say “space” or comma” when it’s time, she gives me an odd look. If a word doesn’t look right to her, she says “Are you sure this is spelled right?” At the end of each note, she EXPECTS a period, a question mark or an exclamation mark.When I don’t tell her to write one, she asks “Is this a complete sentence?
The kids have set up a system of mailboxes at everyone’s door and spend all day long passing notes throughout the house. So they’re learning to write and read and use punctuation and capitalization through love, through the desire to communicate. At this point, I can’t even imagine another way anymore. Imagine being assigned “Write “I love you” fifty times today. Wouldn’t that be ridiculous? It’s become increasingly ridiculous to me that kids are taught reading and writing OUTSIDE of the desire to communicate. THAT is what reading and writing are for. No wonder schools fail, when written communication is irrelevant.
At 12, Meagan spent many years as a victim of our aggressive work schedules. There just wasn’t much time or money to do the things she wanted to do. She always wanted to do Soccer but I could never find the sign-up information and Saturday 7am practices and games were NOT something we wanted to participate in. Actually- here, they practice like 3 days a week and play games on Saturdays at the crack of Dawn. So this year she decided she wants to take tapdancing. It works for us. We signed her up for a class for her age group and all of the girls in the class have been dancing since they were toddlers. The teacher showed them the dance really quickly. Meagan felt a bit lost, like she was in over her head. She set up the laptop in the kitchen and watched youtube to learn the beginner’s moves. She practiced tapping in the kitchen for hours and hours and hours. She didn’t even consider giving up. At class yesterday, she remembered the entire routine. She practices at home all the time. It’s noisy, but beautiful. She’s taking jazz, too and her smile is just phenomenal when she dances.
Learning is beautiful, when it’s rooted in love. Sometimes it’s my 6 yr old pleased to present us with personalized love notes or surprising us with notes she’s spelled on her own. Sometimes it’s my 4 yr old screaming at anyone who tries to fold a long-sleeve shirt because that’s her responsibility and sometimes it’s my 12 yr old tapdancing in the kitchen at 2am.
Or maybe kids who text are smarter. Either way, apparently we can all relax when it comes to teens who communicate with messages like this:
hey
hey
wat r u up to?
nada, u?
gr8 day 2day. pizza 4 brkfst
cool
yeah
u goin 2 the dance?
no
why
idk- ru?
yeah
why
idk looks like fun
ok- g2g, cul8r
bye
Apparently- all that was a stimulating mental experience, like a critical thinking exercise. Connie Varnhagen, a researcher, discovered that whether a teen texts or not has absolutely NO bearing upon their reading, writing or spelling abilities. Actually, a bunch of researchers are discovering that not only is it “not a bad thing” but it might actually be “a good thing” because in some ways, the texting teens were smarter.
I haven’t read the studies, I tried to get to the source of one and realized that this is a blog not a research paper, so I don’t really have to find the real source, I can just make stuff up speculate and that’s OK.
I don’t know if the study took into consideration that the teens who can afford to text all day possibly come from homes with higher incomes, who tend to score better anyway (except my teen perhaps)
I could speculate that schools make the written language REEALLYY boring, but humans have a deep primal need to communicate with one another, so teens text (when I was a teen, we passed notes) and because it’s more interesting than schoolwork it stimulates their brains more, and is pleasurable because of the interaction. The decoding of cryptic acronyms is like a word puzzle. Stumping a friend with an acronym they haven’t heard yet probably gives teens an ego boost, inspiring both parties to continue.
I am not a “morning person.” I wake up confused, my eyes are blurry, my voice is gritty and my body moves slowly. I tumble into the kitchen, straight for the coffee pot and stare at it cross-eyed until there’s enough to fill my cup. Sometimes I squat in the kitchen so I don’t have to use any muscles or energy to stand up.
Because of this (and the fact that it’s easier for me to work when they’re asleep) I get up between 5 and 6 a.m. while my kids don’t start waking up until 9 or so.
I have a happier day when I can wake up to peace and take care of my needs for coffee,solitude and silence before tending to the needs of the children. The kids have a happier day when the first words they hear are “Good morning sunshine” rather than “quit stomping on the stairs please.”
Most of my kids wake up chipper and happy, eager to get on with the business of whatever they’re interested in. Sometimes in the night, they find their way into my bed. There’s always someone extra in there when we wake up. This morning it was Grace, she’s 4 years old. She wakes up and rubs her eyes a little, looks around the room and smiles when I say “good morning.” Then she turns and snuggles in, saying “good morning” to the baby, kissing each one of her little toes. Within minutes, they’re giggling, kissing and hugging and asking for pancakes.
When the pancakes are ready, they come to the table, holding hands and Grace insists that their plates be identical this morning. Matching plates are rare in our house
Madelyn (6) comes down the stairs, we can hear her stomping. She’s a skinny little girl but sometimes I think she’s trying to press her foot through the stairs. Her first words to her sisters are “good morning” and she gives them each a kiss before sitting at the table for pancakes.
The other kids are asleep, it’s just me and the younger half most mornings. I don’t usually eat breakfast, I usually zip over to my computer to finish up whatever it is that I was working on when they woke up. As they finish their breakfast, they’re planning their first adventure for the day. “Grace, wanna go pick flowers with me?” or “Maddy I’m going to take a bath.” Every day it’s something new.
Some days I have surprises planned. Whether it’s an art project or a “field trip” (is there a non-school-y term for this… going somewhere just to learn more?) they’re usually excited about the plans I make. Since we both work from home, everyone doesn’t HAVE to go with us.
So what do your mornings look like? I was listening to a call-in radio show where the caller said something about how he can’t work from home because his kids go to school, the house is too loud in the morning. The host said “I know what you mean man, mornings are the worst.” Which was followed by an article I stumbled across that was trying to teach parents how to help their kids wake up in the morning for school.
I found the advice a bit sad, “Don’t let them press snooze” was probably the most painful. I remember how much I hated waking up for school as a kid, especially in high school. I’ve often thought that the “answer” to some of the problems schools have would be to operate a set of classes between noon and 6pm instead of forcing everyone to comply with the 8am-2pm thing. What’s wrong with waking up and getting a good start to the day. With school kids and their parents so over-scheduled, a 12noon start-time might help everyone start their day with a hearty breakfast and a peaceful home instead of the yelling, stress and rushing around that I hear so much about. Sure, some people function better in the morning, I’m not one of them, though.
20% of the when time I visit Suite101, one of the websites I write for, I see the somber face of Barry Schwartz in the upper left corner of the screen, who writes his feelings about psychology. He has written ten books on psychology, the most recent of which is called “The Paradox of Choice: Why More is Less.” His books espouse the theory that people are happier if they have less choices in life. He believes that having too many choices can lead to social unrest.
My big beef is that he’s not taking into account the fact that the people he’s studying were likely not allowed to make their own choices as children, and are therefore struggling with A- conflicting sense of obligation (which choice is right?) and B- lack of understanding of their own desires (I don’t know what I want, I want them all, I don’t want any of them) and C- Fear of making the wrong decision (as if ANY decision is that important) and D- lack of information (what’s the difference?) and E- Emotional stress (I feel like this one, but since when do my feelings matter?) all of which result in decision-paralysis.
The condition he’s talking about, where people are miserable because they “have too many choices” is actually the RESULT of having every decision made FOR them as children. Mr Schwarz hasn’t studied free children. I wish he would.
At the RE conference a few weeks ago, we had the opportunity to sit in on a panel of young adults who grew up unschooled. When I say young adults, they ranged from age 16 to 25 (ish- I could be wrong about the numbers) One thing that struck me while hearing them discuss their lives was the absurdity of my own expectations. I remember at that age thinking that I “must always have a plan” and that I always felt like I was “on the verge of living.” My oldest is not even sixteen and so many people are asking her about “her plans.”
Most adults can look back upon their life and see that they did NOT live according to their plan. I think out of six or seven unschooled young adults on the panel, two had “plans.” The rest made conscious decisions about how to live their lives, albeit with a consciousness very different than my 20 something consciousness.
What is it about our culture that says we must limit our own options by adhering to a plan or a goal, like “I want to be a veterinarian.” How about a principle that says “I will work with animals” and then an open mind that says “I will make decisions in my life that bring me closer to what I want (animals)” Wouldn’t that be a lot wiser than having a 16 year old decide “I want to be a veterinarian” and then commit the next 2 yrs of high school to classes that he needs for college, then the next 4+ years in college taking classes that bring him closer to the goal of being a veterinarian and then finally getting out of school and working as a veterinarian so that 6 years later he can say “I reached my goal” after having passed up several other opportunities to work with animals in the meantime. It’s a system that states that misery comes before pleasure. It’s born of the belief that you can’t simply “do what you want” you have to make decisions. furthermore, those decisions need to be made at a time in your life when you don’t have any experience or resources to draw upon.
My oldest decided that she wanted to be a pediatrician about a year ago. I jumped on it, and so did she. Devouring science books about biology, anatomy, she had a bunch of diseases memorized and she had a lot of fun learning about the human body, but then she changed her mind and was annoyed with me for getting caught up in it. I apologized, but I doubt she’ll share her next career goal with me. And that’s OK, I wouldn’t trust me either after this. Imagine- assuming that a 14 yr old knows what she wants to be when she grows up. She may, she may not. Why on earth would I want to lock her in a box like that?
The example I gave about the veterinarian is probably wrong in the numbers & requirements department, I really don’t know what it takes to be a veterinarian, but I know that half the kids in my 4th grade class wanted to be veterinarians. Why? Because it’s the most money you can make working with animals and as 4th graders, we knew that making money was important and we liked animals. Kids like animals. City kids don’t get to hang out with animals much. Horses, cows and goats may well just as well be unicorns and mermaids. We had pets, personally. I never wanted to be a vet. I’m just saying, it’s a popular kid-career-goal.
In his article The Impact of too many options in modern life, the author relates his story about buying blue jeans as an example that being faced with too many options has a negative effect. In fact, he believes it’s the reason that there are so many people who are clinically depressed.
To that, I say “poo poo.”
Mr Schwartz, you knew you wanted regular jeans upon walking into the jeans store. You had the option of simply purchasing the “regular jeans” you were directed to and ALLOWED yourself to spend half the day trying on different styles and cuts instead of simply getting what you wanted. The problem is that in all your life, no one had ever asked you what kind of jeans you wanted. The sales gal isn’t an expert in jeans, if she was, she’d probably take one look at you & say “you get the old geezer jeans” because you’re totally not the acid-washed, multi-zippered, flare legged type of guy. You can’t blame your own decision-paralysis upon the fact that you were presented with so many options. It’s not The Gap’s fault. The problem lies in the fact that you’d never been allowed to decide.
How on earth are people supposed to grow up in an environment where someone else decides what they eat, watch, read, play, think and wear and then be expected to walk into The Gap and know whether they want jeans that are loose, tight, baggy, flared, straight leg, low rise, five pocket…?
The trouble- Mr Schwartz- isn’t in the fact that there are so many options. The trouble is that people are TRAINED to have someone else make their decisions. Children in our country are TAUGHT to hold their urine until the bell rings, TAUGHT that their own preferences for foods are irrelevant. (You can’t have pizza because it’s Tuesday, Tuesday is taco day.) Children are TAUGHT that their interests don’t matter. Children are TAUGHT to withhold their desire to communicate with others (Speak when spoken to, no passing notes in class, raise your hand before you ask a question…)
I think Suite101 is trying to “look cool” by having bestselling authors in that corner spot. He only has two articles on the site, so maybe I’m bitter because there are writers with over a thousand ( I have like 136ish) and his grim looking face is one of five “spotlight” writers that rotate in and out of that position. It’s getting really old.
It doesn’t so much bother me that he’s there, but that his message is so skewed, so biased and backwards. To be honest, I haven’t read his books, all I read was the two articles he has on the site. Perhaps he DID study other cultures. Perhaps he DID make an effort to survey the decision-paralysis of people who had grown up with freedom to make their own decisions. I could be wrong. There are so few in the US, though, that I really doubt it. The ones I saw weren’t paralyzed by too many options, they were content. Driven by their own interests, without guilt, without second guessing themselves. They all had their own personality. Some were more socially driven than others, some more spiritually driven, and some more career-driven. I imagine that’s no different than any other panel of young adults would be. One thing I never ever ever heard them say was “My ____ thinks I should _____.” These “kids” had been raised to make their own decisions, so their focus as young adults wasn’t on “deciding what to do” they just DID IT. One older teen said “I live with my parents, so I don’t need to provide for myself, but I can see that one day I will want my own place, so then, I will.” The audience laughed at the simplicity of the statement, but it was truthful and the fact is that most 16 yr olds really have no business making a deeper commitment than that.
I know that when people ask my oldest daughter what she wants to be when she grows up, she’s stunned. She wants to work with kids, maybe. That’s the best answer I can come up with. But I am sure that somewhere, rolling around in her mind, there are ten thousand career options. Why should she choose now? Why should she spend a minute forcing herself into a decision? How many adults grow up and “be” just one thing? Knowing what she likes and dislikes, and having the freedom to follow her passions allows her to seize opportunities as they arise.
My Dad is wildly successful. He finished high school in 1971 and still dreams of college. In his life, he’s been a business owner, a salesman of cars, insurance, vacuum cleaners, alarm systems, tons of other stuff, a police officer, a firefighter, a corporate tax planner, a real estate agent and now he owns a commercial real estate brokerage firm. I imagine that at some point as a child, someone asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up and he said “A cowboy” because it was the 60’s and cowboy movies were popular. Last time I visited him, he said that he’s still dreaming of college, he wants to get a law degree when he retires so that he can write nasty letters on behalf of people victimized by politicians and stupid laws (something like that) and I have no doubt he’ll be good at it, he’s already practicing. (Scroll down, he’s 2nd to the last, Jim King) Either way, he’s a successful adult, and his life’s success isn’t based upon some plan he concocted as a teenager. He’s re-evaluated, planned, and basically taught himself how to follow his bliss. It’s an uphill battle, choosing things based upon your own pleasure when you’ve been taught that your happiness is irrelevant.
I find it so interesting… I read in a poll of parents that one of the biggest goals people had for their children was that – as adults, they are “Happy.” Other options on the survey were “wealthy, well traveled, religious…”
If happiness is such an important goal, why are so many children systematically having their happiness stolen? From crying it out in the crib, to “Hurry up and eat breakfast or you’ll miss the bus,” children are taught that their happiness is irrelevant by the same people who just want them to be happy. Life isn’t a journey, there is no destination, each moment matters.
Success is not the key to happiness. Happiness is the key to success. If you love what you are doing, you will be successful. (Albert Schweizer)
Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed. Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace and gratitude. (Denis Waitley)
If only we’d stop trying to be happy we’d have a pretty good time. (Edith Wharton)
The foolish man seeks happiness in the distance, the wise grows it under his feet. (James Oppenheim)
It is only possible to live happily ever after on a day to day basis. (Margaret Bonanno)
Whoever is happy will make others happy, too. (Mark Twain)
People spend a lifetime searching for happiness; looking for peace. They chase idle dreams, addictions, religions, even other people, hoping to fill the emptiness that plagues them. The irony is the only place they ever needed to search was within.(Ramona L. Anderson)
The amount of happiness that you have depends on the amount of freedom you have in your heart. (Thich Nhat Hanh)
Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy. (Thich Nhat Hanh)
If you observe a really happy man you will find him building a boat, writing a symphony, educating his son, growing double dahlias in his garden. He will not be searching for happiness as if it were a collar button that has rolled under the radiator (W. Beran Wolfe)
That is happiness; to be dissolved into something completely great. (Willa Cather)
In my quest to live at a child’s pace, and just let my kids “be” I’ve been making a point each day to accompany my 21 month old on a walk to the garden each afternoon. She gets “itchy” to go outside with the older girls, but she’s too small to play in their games, so we walk to the garden.
Our house is on 4 acres and the vegetable garden is less than 100 yards from the door. I didn’t plant much this year; two kinds of tomatoes, six kinds of peppers, 2 kinds of eggplant, pickling cucumbers, zucchini, yellow squash, strawberries, a few herbs and pumpkins. The pumpkins are her favorite.
“Pukkin mommy, pukkin now mommy” That’s the signal that it’s time to head outside. “Do you want to go see the pumpkin in the garden now?” “Yeah pukkin garnin mommy pukkin now, OKAY mommy” She can be a bit impatient when I’m putting on my shoes, it takes all of thirty seconds to slip on my flip flops but in that time, she’s said “NOW” about three times. Persistence is a good thing, right? “Let’s go” I say, and she runs for the door.
We’re finally out the door and I’m headed for the “garnin.” “Uh-oh” she says. She kicked a rock off of the porch and absolutely must put it back into place before we proceed. Finally, she finds the rock and puts it back “yets go” she says “see pukkin garnin okay mommy” and we’re off.
The grass is tall, she steps in a hole and trips a little. I stop, waiting to see if she’ll cry or need me, she stands and continues walking as if nothing happened, until she sees me stopped “Mommy yets go see pukkin garnin” as if I’m holding her back somehow. “I’m coming,” I say “Want me to carry you?” “No mommy no carry you. See pukin garnin Okay.” She’s not put off, or upset about falling, and she continues.
For about 4 feet. She notices a broken branch on a peach tree. “Uh oh mommy, broken, uh oh figgits (fix it)” I tell her “I can’t fix it honey, it’s a tree. it’s broken. It’s OK, let’s go see the pumpkin.” And we’re off. yet again.
For about 3 feet. A butterfly is in the grass. Clearly having flown over for the sole purpose of making her laugh. She covers her mouth as she’s laughing, and holds her side. I wonder, did that little giggle give her a side cramp or is she copying the gestures we were making last night as we skimmed through a website of riotously hilarious photos as a family last night ( funnybabypictures.net- I dare you not to laugh) Anyway, she tells me “buhfie mommy, see buhfie? buh fie get me (laughs)” “Did that butterfly get you? that silly butterfly.” Her focus on getting to the pumpkin isn’t blinding her to beauty along the way- wow. I should walk slowly more often.
But I’m still me, y’know. Eyes on the prize…” Look, Evie- I see the pumpkin” We’re not even halfway there yet but it’s taken five minutes to walk fifteen feet and obviously my mind is wandering. So she runs toward the pumpkin, giggling.
For about 5 feet. Then she stops. “walking now mommy okay” and she reaches up to hold my hand. For about 2 feet. Running was just too exhausting.
About ten minutes and twenty distractions later, we finally reach the great pumpkin. A predictable conversation ensues, whereby we discuss that it is round, orange, big, bigger, growing, on the ground, dirty and still orange, still round.
This, in case you wondered, fulfills some of our state’s requirements for kindergarten math, by the way.
Then, we have to check out everything else. While she’s reciting her daily pumpkin speech, I munch the yellow pear tomatoes. Yes, they’re yellow, some are green and they’re not round. She tastes a tomato, just like she does every day and spits it out, to tell me that it’s “yucky.” I could have told her that she wouldn’t like it, because every day she tastes one and decides anew that it’s yucky. That’s OK, she’s reseeding. It reminds me of my sister being forced to taste just one pea at the dinner table as a child. Why does this baby CHOOSE to continue tasting something she doesn’t like and at any point in her life, will she end up liking it eventually? I don’t know, I’m just enjoying the show.
She notices that some of the peppers are red. “Wed mommy wed, wed pukkin” I break the news “That’s not a pumpkin honey, it’s a pepper.” So I pick the pepper and hand it to her, along with 5 or 6 other peppers. Gypsy peppers, fajita peppers, jalapenos and Big Jim peppers. She can’t carry them all in her arms, luckily there’s a little basket in the grass, leftover from the older girls’ play, so I put the peppers in the basket and she’s jumping up and down, wanting to show Daddy the peppers. So, we’re off…
At least seven times between the garden and the house, she dropped the peppers. Each time, she cheerfully said “uh oh” and bent down to pick them up. I offered to carry them for her, but she wanted to carry them herself. The basket was kind of small and the shape of the peppers was such that if you didn’t put the long Big Jim peppers upright, there would be no room for the round peppers. Lying down, the Big Jim peppers filled the whole basket. She tolerated me helping her rearrange them in the basket as we picked them up.
A couple times, she attempted to “count” them, to make sure they were all there “one two one two one two fee six one two SEVEN” In edu-speak, she’s expressing a preliminary understanding of one-to-one correspondence, indicating that she understands that numbers can be used to represent physical things, for record-keeping purposes and for tracking quantity.
Then, she steps on a thorn. This time, when I offer her a piggy back ride, she consents. We’re six feet from the door, but I know that can mean at least two or three more instances of dropping a pepper and bending down to fix it all. When we reach the door, I ask her if she wants to get down and walk the rest of the way to the kitchen. She drops her peppers twice on the way to the kitchen and screams at the top of her lungs when one of her sisters tries to pick them up for her. She can’t figure out how to arrange them in the basket, so one-by-one, she runs them back and forth to the kitchen counter. When the last pepper is in place, she looks for me “Awwdone mommy, peppers done” and I cheer for her.
She’s exhausted, she snuggles in to nurse and crashes for at least an hour.
I stare at her in her sleep, trying to find that place inside me where I am just as persistent, non judging, patient and focused. Then, I give up, simply grateful that I got to share that moment with her, and hoping I remember the lessons when I need to.
Today it doesn’t matter that the floors are crooked (wavy, actually) or that the bathroom is…. horrid- completely horrid, if we were owners not renters, I’d dynamite the bathroom and press a port-a-potty against the door. and it doesn’t even matter that while we were gone, my dog shed a 2 inch layer of hair onto my living room floor. We’re finally home:)
We drove 25 hours in one day (OK, 25 consecutive hours because technically that’s longer than a day) before we arrived in Park City, just north of Wichita, Kansas. We stayed at a Best Western (free wireless, free hot breakfast buffet and an indoor courtyard with a pool, foosball, pool tables, miniature golf and other stuff). The following day, we drove the remaining 6 hours into Dallas.
In Oklahoma we stopped at a roadside “scenic outlook” that showcased the geologic formations, which was interesting. More interesting, though was that on the BACK of the interpretive sign, several people had signed it and left messages. Some were funny, some were obscene and others were just a “hey I was here.” it reminded me of Facebook, especially when my 8 yr old asked if she could “sign the wall.” I stammered- writing on things in public is bad. I relented. This was the back of the sign, everyone else had done it, it won’t turn her into a vandal and I wonder, what does she have to say to the world? While the girls signed, I walked a little way down the hill to the edge of the overlook. on the railing, someone had adhered a custom-made die-cut sticker that said “I’m Already There” If you’re familiar with the country music song by Lonestar, then you know what this means. if not, Check it out on Youtube. I couldn’t believe someone went to all that trouble to leave their message, and what a perfect spot.
Once we arrived in Dallas and got checked into the hotel, my biggest fear was negated (people really did member me) and the older kids disappeared. I saw glimpses of them off and on throughout the week, but they were having so much fun with their friends and the many many many activities that the Rethinking Education Conference had planned.
I had a whole busy schedule of workshops and classes I wanted to attend. Instead, I spent much of my time with my children, I can’t complain about that, it was the most fun we have EVER had together. We went swimming each day, we rode up & down the elevators just because we could, we jumped on the beds, we snuggled until noon, we watched the Disney Channel and I didn’t work for even half a minute. I had the pleasure of sharing a few glasses of wine with like-minded moms at the mom’s night out (twice that week) and failed to convince my husband to go to the Dad’s night out. I got to visit with special friends, women who I know mostly online. our kids played together. Several times, I was told that my kids are amazing. I didn’t get to see them much, but I know they were random-huggers, making sure that everyone at the conference felt the love. They enjoyed making duct-tape things- a cell phone cover, a purse, a wallet. They performed in the talent show, they went to a few workshops and got very little sleep. Brandon and I made it to a few workshops. Between the audio book we listened to on the drive and the workshops we attended, we had plenty to discuss.
After the conference, we drove 20 hours to visit my sister, then a little over an hour to visit Brandon’s mother, sister and brother as well as their families, my kids were so excited to meet their cousins and it was really nice seeing my sister-in-laws (or is it sisters-in-law?). Even Uncle Ernie came over. We had our first hot meal of the week (hotel- no microwave in the room, no worries)
We crashed on grandma’s couch. Have you ever seen 8 people on a sectional sofa? Technically, a few of the kids snuggled with Grandma. The smoke from the Southern CA fires was still in the air and breathing was hard, I kept coughing.
The next day we drove another hour and a half to visit with friends, our very favorite family friends. I first met the Spargos when I was doing hair at Supercuts in Palmdale. I used to chat with her while her husband got his hair cut. Our daughters were the same age (not yet a year old) This year they’re both turning sixteen.
After dinner with the Spargos, we had dessert with Brandon’s sister and her husband then drove- 18 hours, home. We arrived around 2pm. We logged over 75 hours in the car with 6 kids, not nearly enough sleep, very little nutrition and more than enough love to make up for it all.
Last year I came home confused, my head was spinning from back-to-back workshops with very little time to decompress and reflect upon all the new information. It was like cramming for a test on a subject I’d never heard of before. This year, though, I’m relaxed, focused, more purposeful. I didn’t need all the workshops, I just needed a break. I have some new goals, some new memories and my little Universe has expanded. What more could I ask for?
Silly high-point, opening the swagbag to discover that I had an article published in the Home Educator’s Family Times. I get the email version, I guess I just forgot that there was also a printed version. It’s pretty cool to see my words printed for real. What is it about online publishing that’s so “not real?”
Which would imply that we were flying but we’re actually DRIVING to Texas with the kids.
Six kids and 2000 miles (one way)
I’m such a last-minute person, but I’m really proud of myself. I have a friend staying here to feed the dog, water the plants, etc. Usually I call people on the way to the airport.
So far we plan to leave at around 9pm. We opted to drive at night to increase the likeliness that children would sleep in the car, thereby decreasing the potential fighting that can occur when eight people occupy a mere 50ish square feet of space.
Since my husband is a night owl, he gets the first driving shift, and I suspect he can make it until 5 or 6 am. Then, it’s my turn. I’m glad to be able to see the scenery in the daylight hours and hopefully everyone will sleep until noon because that’s 15 hours, then we can get a hotel room and let the kids swim & play while we rest and then get in the car to do it all again at 9pm that night.
The halfway point is Green River, Wyoming, I think. Anyone in Green River wanna go out to dinner?
We plan to arrive the day before the convention so we can rest up and chill out in the hotel’s swimming pool.
On the way home, we’re going to go the long way, and visit family in California. It only adds 400 extra miles to our trip and when will we ever be a mere 400 miles from CA?
I’ve strategically stashed several hand held video games that I’ve found lying around the house in the past few months, so that when they get bored, I will have a solution. They haven’t even noticed them missing. Actually I’ve got a few technological rescues planned- laptops,video games, cd players and things like that.
Clothes- always a dilemma. I mean, a family of 8×10 days=80 pairs of underpants, y’know. Actually, I googled a laundromat near the hotel.
And tomorrow I’m going to the pawn shop to buy a camera. Back when some crackhead stole my laptop, I visited every pawn shop in town several times a week looking for it and I always saw these great cameras, selling for about the same as their eBay counterparts. If you have a pawnshop in town you should totally try it.
(Side note- I was looking for the link to my laptop-being-stolen blog post, and when I googled “crackhead stole my laptop” I discovered that it happens a lot, there are a lot of people having laptops stolen by crackheads. Just for an experiment, I also googled “pothead stole my laptop” and got nothing, in case you wondered- unless you count the “pothead stole my girlfriend” post which doesn’t relate to the laptop thing, but it’s what I got.)
Anyway, my head is spinning about this trip, so many things to remember. I can’t even name them all. I’ve been writing a million extra articles to pay for this trip, and it’s so exciting to see it actually happening. A year ago, this was a fantasy that I couldn’t imagine realizing. Today, it’s just 20 loads of laundry away.
Anyway- one of the articles I wrote this week is actually taking off in a big way, getting a TON of traffic, and I find that hilarious because it’s so ridiculous. Not ridiculous in a stupid way, I just find it funny that anyone is looking for this information. Anyway- here it is- Math Skills with Facebook’s Farmville Video Game and because of the word count restrictions, I actually had to cut the article down a lot. I planned to analyze all the plants, trees & animals. Whatever- enjoy:)
Hey- speaking of FarmVille, I harvested a 22 inch zucchini from my backyard veggie garden today. Not that that has much to do with FarmVille.
We have moths. This old house doesn’t have all of its window screens and every now & then a moth will fly into the house. In the daytime they hold very still somewhere and hope that I don’t kill them. On this day, Evelyn found the moth camping out on our living room wall. It didn’t feel right killing it in front of her, so I captured it in a glass using an envelope, and set it on the table for her to look at.
She’s 18 months old, and she watched the moth for nearly an hour. Grace was interested in it, too. it was really neat seeing the moth up close. At rest, we could see teeny little hairs on its face and legs, and even see a little powder being sprinkled from its wings as he flapped them. Grace (3) noticed that his wings were attached differently than a butterfly’s wings. After nearly an hour the girls got bored with it, so we released it into the yard. Today, nearly 3 weeks after that incident, grace brought me a picture she drew (today) of the moth. She has a side view and a top view, with sufficient enough details that I’m impressed. Learning IS fun.
I’m kinda sick of seeing so many programs for kids in poverty.
All over the place, it’s like saying that it’s expensive to help your kids be healthy or to learn or something. That could not be farther from the truth. Knowledge is everywhere, information is free. Everything a child could ever want or need to know can be conveyed without spending a dime, simply through conversation or google.
There’s absolutely no logical reason that a child from a family with an income of x should be at a disadvantage upon entering kindergarten than a child whose parents earn xxx,xxx. no reason at all. In fact, I will speculate that a mom who makes it her job to communicate with her kids all day, playing games and having fun, instead of working outside the home will bring down the family’s income base and possibly cause her kids to be “at risk” from a financial standpoint.
Oh wait- our government offers financial incentives for working women, bringing down their base income so that they can afford childcare. Does that mean that two-income families can also be “at risk?”
I think we need to change the terminology here because raising kids on a low income doesn’t automatically make them less intelligent, less healthy or otherwise place them at a disadvantage, period. In fact, I reckon that the TRUE cause of poor health in children is not poverty, but poor nutrition and lack of exercise, both of which our country promotes and encourages by spending so much money funding the processed food industry and promoting “early childhood education” which involves turning active, interested and engaged little children into mindless lazy robots.
Growing your own food and eating fresh local produce is not expensive. Eating processed foods causes malnutrition. For children to get exercise, all they need is open space outdoors. Most parks don’t charge admission. If you have a yard, that’s even better. People give away bicycles all the time if you don’t have the $100 or so that it takes to buy one brand new. You could also get one at a yard sale. Working in that homegrown garden is also a great way to get exercise. Perhaps children who aren’t getting exercise, regardless of their parent’s financial situation, are lacking energy from proper nutrition or aren’t allowed to play outside.
Where is this information that impoverished kids are at a disadvantage? Seriously, I’d like to see something that proves, statistically (because that’s how I am) that children of any race are at a disadvantage simply because of their parent’s economic situation, and not because of the rest of their lifestyle.
There isn’t any, because money is just a SYMBOL. Money is made up. Our income level means absolutely nothing when it comes to the health or intelligence of our kids, it’s WHAT WE EAT and HOW WE LIVE that puts kids at risk, not the income. When “poor” families choose to grow a vegetable garden, they can eat like kings on a grocery budget that’s just a fraction of what the average American spends eating junk.
In poorer areas of the world where they grow all their own food, they don’t have the health problems we have here (obesity, diabetes, cancer) because they’re eating REAL FOOD and not high fructose corn syrup or other garbage, refined flours, isolated starches and preservatives.
The numbers in the checkbook don’t mandate which books I read my children. In fact, did you know that “The Classics” which are supposed to make kids smarter as per the Thomas Jefferson method of education and the Well Trained Mind, are available for free download because they’re in the public domain. So don’t go complaining that your extensive literature collection cost a fortune, that’s a CHOICE. Once again, an impoverished family could share the same exposure to The Great Books that a family with money can. And libraries are free.
I know plenty of families who manage to live well on a low income. I also know plenty of moms with high family incomes who are saving and investing much of their income, rather than spending it on whatever it is that is supposed to make their kids smarter, and basically enjoying the same free and cheap lifestyle choices that the “poverty” moms do. The children are experiencing the same lifestyle, and both thriving. It’s not the bank balance that gives kids an advantage.
We’ve had our financial ups and downs over the years and there are advantages to both. That’s right, there are advantages to poverty and disadvantages to having money.
Our health care needs have not changed over the years, we rarely get ill. Mainly, what we miss when our income is low would be traveling. Surely there are studies showing that kids who travel are at an advantage, right? And how do they define disadvantaged anyways?
I’m not that impressed by all these programs that spend a fortune buying formula (with taxpayers money) for women who could be nursing (for free) and so called “nutrition” programs that buy a certain number of dairy products and processed cereals, with no regard for their cost, instead of actually teaching women how to read nutrition labels and grow a garden (SURPRISE- real food doesn’t even HAVE labels) Then, when kids are pumped full of high fructose corn syrup (subsidized by the government) they get state-funded health care for all the cavities and medical problems that the processed foods cause.
It’s not poverty that causes children to be ill or lack intelligence, it’s stupidity and well-intentioned “solutions” that presume to know all the answers without factoring in the importance of frugality, honoring nature’s design and the importance of healthy human relationships.
Even my very favorite magazine, Mothering, is guilty of this. So many times I’ve seen articles about “America’s poverty crisis.” In my mind, it’s not the poverty that’s a problem. It’s the decisions that families make about how to live, what to eat and how to entertain and transport themselves that impact a child’s experiences.
These programs for poverty do ONE productive thing, and that’s to send a message to parents and children that without money, you have no hope. Without money, you can’t take care of yourself. Without money, you have to depend upon the government for help. Why are these programs so widely publicized? Because a fearful population is easy to control.
Surely the IRS could raise funds by operating an opt-in mailing program, distributing information to families whose income ratio meets certain requirements, based upon tax returns. That would probably be cheaper than having each individual poverty-based-resource out there posting billboards, television and magazine ads perpetuating the myth that lack of income is the sole factor in determining a family’s effectiveness, instead of focusing on the OTHER factors like lifestyle, nutrition and happiness.
Poverty is a symptom, or perhaps a side effect, but not a disease.
And with that, I leave you with a video that you simply MUST watch if you’re making any kind of car payment.
I just had to say that. When I was a new mom, I read everything. I learned that in order to raise well-behaved children, we had to be consistent. Rules must never change. Consequences must always stay the same. Mom & Dad can’t have different rules. We must be solid, like a wall. We must be unified. Us against them. We must stand strong. Grownups vs the kids. We must———STOP THE INSANITY———– (Thank you, Susan Powter)
Someone actually once said “Oh you must be so consistent” when my oldest was little because she was so “well behaved.”
It makes me sick now.
I think the second sickest memory I have, looking back, was when my oldest was on time out. She’d go to time out really well, I’d say the word and she would run to the corner and stay there until I said she could come out. I put her there in front of people and they’d snicker behind her back about how compliant she was, whispering “she just stays there…hehe….wow” They were admiring my parenting skills, so I was proud. Little did I know that I’d look back at that time in our lives & wonder what the hell were we thinking. She was probably 3.
Consistency isn’t normal. It isn’t natural. The world is inconsistent. Unless children are violating laws of nature (gravity, centrifugal force) they’ll never experience consistency with humans, and that’s beautiful.
Mom & dad are different people, with different opinions and different perspectives, both of which are valuable. If we are to constantly grow & change and evolve as humans, and become better people every day, then what the hell are we worried about consistency for? Stop trying to be consistent and just be honest.
Do you know (you probably do) that so many parents are alienating grandparents because the grandparents have “different rules.” Consistency is supposedly so important, or maybe kids are so stupid, that they can’t be exposed to any adult who has different rules. WHAT is that all about? Different employers have different rules, different cultures have different rules. LIFE is all about understanding how to work within several different environments. HOME shouldn’t be a place you have to learn how to “be” in. At home, you should just be you. Safe, loved and growing. What rule can be more important than that?
I just had to say all that. As we prepare (which really means scrimp & save & stick to our budget) to go to the Rethinking Education Conference again this year, I’m trying to reflect upon everything we’ve learned about gentle parenting over the past 12 months. We’re not perfect. We still have a VERY LONG way to go. We’re improving every day. We’re helping each other be inconsistent. Consistently improving.
Here are three of my favorite resources that we’ve been using over the past year, to be more gentle parents.
The Daily parenting emails from Scott Noelle, called The Daily Groove it’s a really quick read. I subscribed myself and my husband, each one takes less than a minute to read. I wish I could get it via text message.
Bob Collier’s monthly Parental Intelligence Newsletter, which is absolutely HUGE- it can take all day to read but it’s so worth it.
And our kids.
I list them last not because they’re least important, but because they require a longer explanation. The concept of consistency in parenting assumes that you have a motive and a prescribed means of reaching that goal. But our goal for the kids is that they’re able to communicate and have healthy relationships. I want them to spend their whole life growing and changing, evolving and improving. I don’t ever want them to feel like they’ve “figured it all out.”
In my opinion, the only way to reach that goal is to model ourselves growing & changing, To not separate so much between us and them. They need to be part of our family’s changes, especially right now the older ones who know what “the other side” is like.
In marriage and in business, the relationships you have with people define your level of success. A marriage without communication is likely to fail. An employer or employee who isn’t able to communicate with their co-workers, staff, clients, or vendors won’t be around for long.
Consistency represents a solid and steadfast commitment to NOT communicating with the children.
Nothing you say will change my mind. Cry all you want, see if I care. Go ahead, have a fit about it. I’m not changing my mind. It doesn’t matter what you say. It doesn’t matter how you feel. I’m the parent, that’s why. Because you’re a kid. When you’re an adult, then talk to me about it.
Parents may huddle together figuring out a “consequence” for some action, in an effort to represent an aligned front, but no one is communicating WITH the kids. The only REAL consistency is that the children’s voice doesn’t matter.
We just can’t do that anymore.
With six kids in the house the only way we can survive is with complete honesty.
“I know you used to get punished for that when you were little, but I’ve learned that it wasn’t really fair, and it makes a lot of sense to me now. Punishing you didn’t work, you still did it. You even did it behind our backs.”
or how about
“I’m sorry I snapped at you for that, I really freaked out when I saw you _____ because all I could think of was _____. I love you, and I know that wasn’t very nice of me. ”
or most often
“Because that’s how I was raised and I know it makes no sense, so let’s figure out what the root of this issue is, and let’s move on. Thank you so much for pointing it out. Really. You want this___ I’m thinking this_____ it’s really probably not a big deal, so can you just tell me when you’re done so I can clean it up. Thank you again, and I apologize for reacting so quickly.”
It seems to me like so many of my parenting role models have been perfect parents the whole time they were raising their kids. Like they discovered the secret to perfect parenting while they were pregnant and have been radiant beams of sunshine ever since.
Where are the flip flops? I’m sure they’re out there. I know I’m not alone. In my generation we were taught to keep our mouths shut. A lot. No back-talking. Don’t whine. Don’t complain. Don’t talk like that to your mother. Don’t talk like that to your sister. Not in my house. Not in my car.
Who is going to write the parenting book that teaches us how to move FROM authoritative parenting TO consensual, non violent communication? Has it been written? Please let me know because I have an Amazon.com credit that’s burning a hole in my… um… amazon.com, credit account.
One of my favorite parenting books EVER- is called “Guiding Your Child to a more Creative Life” by Fredelle Maynard. It’s out of print and almost totally impossible to find. I’ve seen it at yard sales & thrift shops, I have a copy here at home & every now & then I pick one up whenever I stumble upon one. You should, too. I give spare copies away whenever I can. I first read it when my oldest was very small, it talks about how parents can avoid accidentally squashing their children’s creativity. It offers practical tips for encouraging play and exploration that help parents appreciate how kids naturally learn to think, examine, observe and interpret.
Normally I’d have a picture of this book here, because that’s how I roll but since the book is hard to find online, I couldn’t find pictures of it. Amazon didn’t have one.
Here’s one Amazon does have, though. It’s called “The Artist’s Way” and I just got the “complete” book because it has three books in one, it’s like a big fat textbook of how to unlock your creativity. Why did I order this? I never felt like my creativity was blocked. I know I’m creative. The book talks about having little voices in your head that tells you you can’t paint, you can’t draw, you can’t write and I don’t think I can relate to that, but then again I’m pretty argumentative, too so who knows. I’m pretty sure I just have the tiny voices outside of my head saying “I want to paint, I want to draw, I want to write.” The book advocates a 3 page journaling blurt-out every morning to free your mind. I can vomit 3 pages waiting for coffee to brew and the computer to boot up.
Just to prove I wasn’t blocked, I blurted out an entire business plan of action to use art to solve all the world’s problems, on my very first day using The Artist’s Way.
There’s something powerful about creating art with another person. co-creating is a big thing. When you’re opening your heart up to make something, being vulnerable, expressing something free flowing and personal… sharing art can be a powerful bonding experience. When your art or your creation is validated, it’s empowering. It’s like deep down to the core of your soul, you’ve done something right.
I might have guessed, but last week at Girl Scout camp, it was reinforced. We haven’t been doing much art around here for the past month or so, I’ve been working my butt off, trying to get us to this Convention in Dallas, to get the transmission & brakes fixed, and exciting things like that.
We spent every evening last week making recycled art projects. It was nice to see how proud the kids (including mine) were of their projects. It was nice to see them focus on the task of creating something for hours on end. It was nice to spend the time with them like that.
I think that parents and kids can really bond together over art projects. I was shocked to see one of the mothers actually doing the project FOR her child. I wonder why she wouldn’t just make her own, instead of scooting the child away like that.
What could have been a relaxing, mellow, shared experience between her & her daughter ended up being a soul-crushing heart-breaking event. nothing the girl did was right, so finally she wandered away to play ball while mom sat blissfully gluing and cutting alone. Sadly, in the 7 yrs I’ve volunteered with Girl Scouts, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen it.
One woman, a grandmother actually, said “Let Gramma do it, so it looks good” while her daughter sat silently at the table watching Grandma play with the other kids. As soon as Grandma was out of earshot this little girl told all the other kids they were going to hell with the devil for some reason.
Either way, this Thursday we’re going to visit an Art Studio that’s run by a friend of mine and we’ll be filming ourselves doing an art project. My husband has agreed to edit it into a 15-20 minute video that we can put online so we can share the project with other families. At this point, we plan to make it a weekly family event. The goal is to show people what it looks like when you’re sharing creativity with kids, and to share projects that may look like fun- enough to inspire families to try.
Eventually, I think it would be fun to have an open studio where other people can come and do projects, too but for now we’ll just film our little show. The kids have all chosen projects they’d like to share. we’re co-creating, on many levels.
So anyways, do I have to finish this big fat book, or can I be excused?
Simply being at the conference was like a hallucination. Everyone around me was me- only cooler, clearer. It was the strangest feeling of one-ness that affirmed my unconventional lifestyle and inspired me to want to be even weirder. My head was spinning when it was over and it took me a long time to feel like myself again. In fact, I was supposed to have been doing a stand-up comedy routine, but as the week wore on, nothing seemed funny anymore. It’s one thing to sit here on my blog giving little insights into our backwards life, but it’s another to make a lifestyle of encouraging these oddities. I always say (with a shameful amount of apology) “It’s just how we are” but these advocates are saying “This is how humans are supposed to be.” and I really admire people who choose to be “out there” as advocates.
Jody McLaughlin was there, she’s the editor of Compleat Mother magazine, and she spoke about Women’s health issues, in a way that I agreed with 100% and thought about a thousand times, but never said out loud, much less thought of publishing an entire magazine about it. I wish the neck-nodding muscles would lift my boobs because I would have left Texas looking 3 kids younger. Jody would say “boobs sag, get over it.”
Back to Dayna, though. She’s got a knack for bringing out the best in people. Barb, the lady who puts on the conference said, in a recent radio interview,
“I have never, in all of my years… met a person who is as able as Dayna is to talk to people with 100% attention, complete respect, nurturing at all costs, and yet be able to tell you what you’re doing wrong,”
and that is a perfect description of her way of communicating. Anyways, Dayna & Joe have a beautiful family, and she just published Radical Unschooling – A Revolution Has Begun
My copy arrived in the mail this morning, I am actually going to spend the day snuggling up to read it. Following my bliss at the moment is a lazy day in bed. I am sure it will take all day to get through her book because when the kids see me immobile they rush me with books of their own. What could be better than reading & snuggling?
Sometimes, I wish I were more vocal about our odd decisions, and I am sure that as the kids get older, I will be. Right now, though, I’m glad that Dayna is “out there” spreading the word. I know she’ll get some slack, but she’s so very gracious and positive.
I can’t wait to congratulate her in person this year at the Convention, the lineup of speakers they have is fantastic. I’m sure my world will be rocked once again. I can’t wait to share the experience with my kids and my husband.
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