Sunday, October 28, 2012

food-themed parties and allergies

Holiday parties loom in our near future;

     I have, as an adult, developed food allergies. Now, I don't usually care if I show up to a gathering and discover there's not much or even nothing I can safely eat.

     That said, I'd like to suggest that if you are hosting a potluck or holiday desert exchange gathering, and you know that at least a quarter of those invited and/or their young children, have mild to severe food allergies, you might considering compiling, or having one of the interested guests compile, a list of those allergies. Even if you don't feel like avoiding all or any of the things on the list, some of your other guests might. "Bring whatever you want and it will all work out," only actually works for people who don't have food allergies, and I would like the option to be inclusive if I reasonably can. No hard feelings towards those who don't feel inclined to accommodate special dietary needs. I know first hand it can seem like a pain, or an inconvenience that takes some of the joy out of your cooking or baking. I'm just asking you not scoff at or undermine those of us who would choose to attempt to be inclusive in our festive food and party preparations, and will find more joy in it as a result. Personally, I sincerely enjoy making it possible for someone who might otherwise not attend, to participate and enjoy a food-centered event. I like food, I like to bake, and I like sharing.

Saturday, October 13, 2012

smoking research is bunk

My dad smoked, yet neither any of my siblings nor I developed asthma, are addicted to tobacco, or suffer any other obvious consequences as a result of his smokig. Therefor I conclude that all research that indicates that children of tobacco smoking parents are more likely to develop asthma and/or become smokers themselves is all bunk.

Yes, I realize that "more likely" means they have an increased chance compared to children of non-smokers, but the fact that I know children of smokers who have not experienced these supposed adverse effects means, to me, that those statistics are obsolete. Besides, the oldest documented human smoked until she died at 122 years old; and my mom has been living with my dad for 32 years and she hasn't experienced any documented adverse effects. Also, there are other things that could cause asthma or lead people to start smoking.

Smoking is a personal choice. Parents should be free to breath cigarette or other smoke on and around their infants and children without anyone offering health concerns or research, let alone judgment. It should not be of concern to anyone but the child's parents. People who act like and promote the belief that smoking cigarettes is unhealthy, or that second hand smoke is bad for children or other people, are being judgmental and intolerant, and should learn to butt out. They should keep their negative opinions and "research" to themselves. It shouldn't matter if a parent who is considering taking up smoking, or quitting, has asked if there are reasons others chose to or not to smoke. Biased "research" about the risks associated with second hand smoke should not be offered as reliable resources. The parents should just do whatever feels normal or right to them, for their family. It should not matter if it might/will cost society, in terms of current or future medical costs for the parent or the child. It should not matter that it may now or later impact that child's quality of life in some regard, or that it could perpetuate a continuing harmful cycle whereby the child of a smoker grows up to smoke around their children who grow up to smoke around their children and so on for generations.

Again, I don't believe it will, because my dad smoked and I don't have asthma or battle cigarette addiction. I'm just emphasizing that it ought to be up to parents to expose their children to any "risk" they feel inclined to. They are the ones responsible for their children. It is their parental right.

As an aside, routine infant circumcision is a violation of basic human rights, and there is an abundance of evidence to show how at best it is unnecessary, and at worst how harmful (in some cases fatal) it is. But don't take my word for it; ask a sexually active circumcised man with a normal amount of ego and social conditioning, who hasn't done much (if any) research, if being circumcised as an infant had or has any negative impacts on him psychologically, physiologically, or physically, and if he says "no," then take his word for it, research it no more, and lob off a healthy, functional, sensitive and useful piece of your perfect newborn son's genitals. That's a totally reasonable and legit course of action.

Or, you know, research it, a lot. Don't know where to start? Just ask.

Friday, September 7, 2012

If you're not part of the solution...

Sharing an Alfie Kohn article on Facebook, thinking about public/mainstream schools, especially in these USA, varieties of "homeschooling," human development, our attitudes towards children, and was reminded of this;

Earlier this summer I had an out-of-state data collector come to our door, asking me to participate in a survey that helps them assess general population's needs and wants for early education and childcare. I wasn't able to easily answer many of the multiple choice "which best describes" type questions, because we've had some privilege and, equally significant, made it a goal and a point to create a life where many didn't apply to us. This lead to some to some tangent conversation.

She was a retired school teacher, yet said if she had young children now she would not send them to public (or most other mainstream) schools, and that she sincerely hoped her grandbabies would not be sent to them either. Among her chief concerns were all-day kindergarten, the amounts of homework given even to young children, class sizes/overworked teachers, inequities between school-zones within the same communities and/or schools within the same districts, and the children's physical safety.

Standing by our public/mainstream schooling system just because you are a part of the system is, in my opinion, similar to defending a criminal church member or church organization, just because you are a member of that church. If anything, that should give you more reason to want to set things right, to create a respectable, (and in the case of schools) evidence based system, that actually nurtures young people's minds and fosters a love of learning.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Help a mama out

I had a lovely talk with a mama-friend a few days ago, that served as a good reminder and motivation for me, so I wanted to share with you all.

When my friend had her last (3rd) baby, a little over a year ago, I took her family dinner one night, about a week after the baby's birth. Once a week for the next three weeks I went over, with my kids in tow, brought lunch, and spent a couple of hours with her. Once I held the baby while she showered, mostly I chatted and kept her company as she nursed and folded laundry, while our kids occupied eachother.

I meant to keep going once a week until at least six weeks, but stuff came up, everybody in my house took turns being sick, and it didn't happen. I felt bad that I hadn't done more. It didn't feel like I'd done much at all. Last week when we were talking, it came up, as she mentioned the thank you card she never sent me. "For what?" I asked. She proceeded to tell about how lovely and supportive I had been, and how much I'd done for her during those first few weeks. I honestly had no idea! She had/has lots of family, church family, and friends. I assumed they would have all been doing at least some of those things for her as well. Apparently, not many were.

It was reminder to me how far a little bit of effort can go, and that it's never safe to assume someone has all the support they need without you. If each one of us puts in the little bit of effort to provide one meal for a mom with a new baby, and whenever possible makes sure that she is getting some time to shower alone and fold her laundry, it will be effort well spent. Even if you can't financially afford to provide a meal, you can hold a sweet baby while mama showers, or do a sink full of dishes or vacuum. You can take her older kids or her dog for walk. Even if you only visit and do one chore during her entire postpartum period, it matters. It makes a difference.

We live in an area with an estimated 50% of mothers experiencing postpartum mood disorders. Lets each do that tiny bit to help support eachother and reduce our risks of developing such a devastating condition.

Also, Happy Saint Patrick's Day.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

I wish I had an arm chair I liked.

Actually, the title is a lie. I wish I had lots of hammock-chairs and floor cushions, and that we could get rid of armchairs and couches without other people in my household having fits.

I've seen this being passed around Facebook the past few days, and have, thus far, bitten my tongue. So now my tongue is full teeth marks and is too sore to bite on anymore. http://m.examiner.com/k-12-in-topeka/in-what-other-profession

I think I understand what he's trying to say, and agree that generally, no single teacher should be held accountable for the graduating or dropping out of any single student. Still, I thought he made some very poor analogies, among other disagreements I have with him. All of the other professions he sites are primarily reactive, not specifically educational or preventative. If firefighters spent seven hours a day in a home, actively trying to make it as fire-resistant as possible, and the house still caught fire, then it would be a more accurate comparison. When a person sees doctors for years and the doctors fail to catch, diagnose, or effectively treat a treatable illness/condition, we do question them and/or mainstream medicine and their effectiveness, as much as some of us question any teacher and our current education system.

It struck me as yet another person who doesn't want to think about the implications of things like the USA's ranking in PISA surveys; that they might be part of or supporting a failing system; that if they are truly dedicated to effective, quality, equal education for all children, they need to help change the system they are a part of instead of blindly defending it.

Believe it or not, I have a lot of respect for teaching as a profession. I know alot of really dedicated teachers. I come from a family steeped with teachers. Generations of teachers. My mother, my grandmother, my great-grandmother, and even (get ready to gasp) I was a teacher. Admittedly, I was a substitute/assistant preschool teacher and elementary school classroom volunteer. I did not finish my degree in education. When I started college, my goal was to be a teacher. The reasons I didn't finish aside, among the reasons I wanted to be a teacher were to be better than many of the teachers I had had and met, and to help reform the system from the inside. I know a few awesome individuals who are teachers, in public schools, who are doing just that -pushing limits, breaking stigmas, managing their classrooms and teaching in the most effective, quality, equal, up-to-date evidence-based ways they can without getting themselves reprimanded or fired. They are not the ones posting and reposting articles like the one linked to above. They are educators who recognize that some of those "arm-chair educators and anti-teacher, anti-public school evangelists" are not any of those things. (I think it's funny that he resorts to generalizations, name calling and finger pointing, given that those are among his complaints.) They are the ones recognizing that not everything you are taught in college is fact, or permanent. Not everything in your textbooks is current or based on unbiased scientific study. Not everything being pushed for by certain individuals or organizations is actually healthy for our children. They are the ones who realize that just because someone didn't take the tests and turn in homework at an institution comparable to the one they graduated from doesn't mean they haven't done the same amount, or more, of reading and researching, maybe even the same books that were assigned to college students, and getting the same or more hands on experience.

I have no doubt he received some truly rude, anti-teacher, anti-public school, evangelical responses. He seems intentionally offensive, so I don't think it should surprise anyone that he elicited offensive retorts. I wish he would have taken a few minutes to word his post less argumentatively and judgmentally, with better analogies and examples. I wish that he seemed more communicative and open to recognizing that not every "arm-chair educator" is an uneducated, anti-teacher and anti-public school evangelist, and that even if some of them are, that doesn't necessarily mean their opinions or evidence are inherently invalid, let alone that the opinions, information and resources offered by all who disagree with him on this subject are inherently invalid. Some of them, who love the idea of quality, equal public education for everyone, are simply sad that that is not what is happening in the USA, and offer evidence of that, and ideas on how the situation could be improved. Some of those "arm-chair educators," who object to traditional schooling methods and current practices in the United States of America, use to or still do sit behind teachers desks in public or other mainstream schools, or squat next to children to engage in respectful exchanges, literally at their level, and inspire a love for learning.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Dear Girl Scouts

I am a former scout and assistant scout leader. I recently learned that transgender girls are being allowed to join Girl Scouts. I hope the unfortunately fearful and closed-minded girl and other people who purpose a cookie boycott because of this find a way to ease their discomfort before they further negatively impact the lives of so many others.

I would proudly be a sister to any girl scout, no matter her birth gender. Who knows, maybe I was a sister scout to a transgender scout? I wasn't worried about or examining other girls' genitalia. I'm still not.

I might question some cookie ingredients and organization changes since my childhood, but not this one.

I want to express my pride in having been part of this organization for over ten years. I will continue to...

do my best to be
honest and fair,
friendly and helpful,
considerate and caring,
courageous and strong, and
responsible for what I say and do,
and to
respect myself and others,
respect authority,
use resources wisely,
make the world a better place, and
be a sister to EVERY Girl Scout.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

The Power of Vulnerability

Because this might be my favorite TED talk ever, and it's in line with my last post, I share the following video.

The Power of Vulnerability

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Saint Nicholas Day 2011

(A boot full of goodies from Saint Nicholas.)

I wanted to celebrate Saint Nicholas Day, just as we did when I was a child, but I also wanted to keep it simple. It's way to easy to go overboard with this and Christmas. I settled on baking gingerbread cookies yesterday, from the dough we'd prepared the night before. Last night after dinner we talked about Saint Nicholas of Myra (again), and told stories of the miracles he performed and kind things he did for people. We wrote a story on big paper and left it clipped to the easel for Saint Nicholas to read, left gingerbread cookies for him and "Black Pete" (Zwarte Pieten) on the mantle, and put the children's shoes in front of the fire place.


In our house, everything made of gingerbread gets eyes.

This morning they awoke to find in their shoes an apple, chocolate, a lollipop, a Schliech horse, and three quarters (like the three bags of gold Saint Nicholas left for the poor man's three daughters). Assessing the goodies, Maeve declared, "I did not expect so much stuff! Three quarters means I can buy three more lollipops!" Whimsy carried her little Shetland pony around for hours, and asked to buy a steamer with her coins when she and I went on a "date" while Maeve was at lunch with a friend.


(Enjoying her dark mint chocolate. I unwrapped one of the big organic bars from the natural market, halved it, re-wrapped the two smaller "bars" in custom "Saint Nicholas' Workshop" wrappers.)


The only disappointment is that the Saint Nicholas books that I ordered from Amazon didn't get here in time. I really thought they would. There's one (The Real Santa Claus) that looks like a compilation of history, folklore, and art, compiled and written by Marianna Mayer. If you know me and my love of children's picture books, you might know she wrote some others that I adore. Oh well. We'll probably celebrate again, with my parents, brother and nephew, when my nephew gets back later this week. My mom can get her wooden shoes out for that one, (the little expensive decorative ones that I bought her just so she could take them to school and tell her kids about Saint Nicholas, which she hasn't done yet. If your child attends her preschool, please tell her you're disappointed.) Hopefully the books will be here.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

I'll Run Away With Gypsies

In my world, waking up on the wrong side of the bed means waking up on the side some kid peed on. Today I woke up in a bed that was all wrong sides.

Last night as I was getting into bed I discovered that my toddler (who refuses to wear diapers) had wet the bed. I gently moved her, removed the waterproof bed cover, and went for a new one, only to discover there was not another clean, dry one. In the laundry room I transferred the ones from the washing machine into the dryer, and sleepily passed the time until it was dry. Finally, more than an hour after my first attempt, I went to sleep in a clean, dry bed.

I half woke when my five year climbed into bed with me. I half woke again when she climbed out a couple of hours later. I woke completely when I rolled over to where she had been laying and landed in a puddle of pee she'd left behind. I cursed. I stripped myself and the bed. I put on the other clean cover that I'd taken from the dryer only a few hours ago. I took a quick shower and went back to sleep. I woke maybe an hour later, a little earlier than regular wake up time, when my toddler got restless... and I felt the wet creeping from her pants onto me.

One short night. Three pee messes, (not counting the one the five year old left in her own bed). Pee on me twice. Six hours of broken sleep. I was not a happy camper this morning, and as usually happens, me being off my game somehow means everyone in the house is off their game as well.

Fast forward to mid-afternoon. I feel like I'm losing my mind. I was so tired, I even drank a soda - a caffeinated soda. My husband witnessed this and wondered who I was and what I had done with his wife. It almost helped perk me enough to seem worth it. The kids are behaving like wild beasties. My husband is irritating me by not doing things my way, and not intuitively knowing what he ought to be doing, and how, in order to best help fill the gaps my current foul disposition is leaving. He has now retreated to the garage. The house is even messier than usual. I've been doing urine-soaked laundry all day. There has been more whining and arguing and kids pinching each other than I currently feel capable of handling. I start another load of laundry, sit down at the computer and... am promptly interrupted by screaming from the other room, followed by whining and tattling, "Maaaaaaaaamaaaa..." "She did this." "She did that." Someone's plaything was stolen, someone's arm sports fingernail marks. You know that drill.

"That's it!" I yell. "I can't deal with this anymore. This is driving me crazy!" Not one of my finer moments, I realize even while yelling, "I'm selling you both to the gypsies!"

Pause. This is where it starts to get better. They're staring at me like I've lost my mind. Maybe I have. Maybe I need an attitude check as much as they do.

"Never mind," I say. "I'll go live with the gypsies. You two can stay here and keep screaming and making messes."

Four big eyes look at me.

"There's no real gypsies anymore, Mama... Are there," asks my five year old, brow furrowed.

"Yep. There are. And I'm going to live with them. I'm tired of trying to clean up all these messes by myself while you two scream and argue and make more messes." I am talking now, not yelling.

"Well, you're only allowed to take the clothes you're wearing," I am informed, in a stern tone.

I shrug. "Ok," I say.

"You'll have to wear them all the time, for the rest of your life. You won't have any clean ones to put on ever," she's using the serious voice still, but her brow has relaxed.

"Pssh. I can get new ones. I can make new ones. My new gypsy friends will let me borrow some of theirs until I get others." Somehow the mood is shifting. I think we all feel it.

"What if there's no gypsies your same size? And how will you buy new ones? You're not allowed to take any money. What will you eat." There's no more yelling, whining or toy-snatching going on. Seemingly by magic, where moments ago there was sibling rivalry and a frazzled mama there is now curiosity and imagination .

"There's lots of gypsies my size. I'll borrow some dancing clothes and scarves, and a pretty painted tambourine and a fancy hat. I'll dance and play the tambourine, and people who walk by will put money in the hat for me. I'll use that to buy food and new clothes, or fabric to make new clothes.Maybe I'll get a monkey and train it to dance too." I demonstrate, doing a little dance while shaking my imaginary tambourine.

Suddenly, we're story telling.

"You can take this with you, for when you make your clothes" she says, pointing to my sewing bust.

"No way," I say, "you keep it here. It's too big to carry. My back pack will be full, with my sleeping bag and my food and my first aid kit, and my monkey sitting on top."

As this tale of my life with gypsies unfolds, the toddler occasionally interjects, reiterating what the five year old and I say. In her signature fashion of creative grammar and emphatic speech, states, "you live gypeez!" and "you dance gypeez!" "You take seepin bag!? In yours pack pack!? Me. comin.' wis. you!?"

We go on to talk about how I don't like all the mess and angry noise that's been happening today, how they can stay here and make all the messes they want, and eat nothing but blueberries, granola bars, apple juice and yogurt if that's what they like, and scream and beat on each other if that's what they choose. The story evolves. We all end up living like gypsies, leaving the house to eat all the granola bars itself.

Eventually, we migrate to our living room, where they are inspired to help pick up the clutter in order to make room to create an obstacle course that involves intentional obstacles vs the the ones created in trying to avoid stepping on toys, dirty socks, and abandoned art projects. (It's too cold and windy outside for an outdoor course to be appealing to any of us right now.) They practice their jumping and somersaults while I sit and watch, and rest.

A playful story is so much more fun than screaming, and diffused the situation in a way yelling, ordering, punishing and bribery never would have. I'm not going to lie and say the rest of the day was amazing because of story telling or playful parenting genius. I will say that I think choosing to engage in a playful activity with my children rather than vent my exhaustion and frustration through yelling and punishing them for being kids took the evening in a better, healthier direction. And at least the living room was clean for a few minutes; long enough to set up an obstacle course.


***



Carnival of Natural Parenting -- Hobo Mama and Code Name: MamaVisit Hobo Mama and Code Name: Mama to find out how you can participate in the next Carnival of Natural Parenting!



Please take time to read the submissions by the other carnival participants:









Monday, July 11, 2011

Spare The Rod

Mark 10:13-16
13 And they brought young children to him, that he should touch them: and his disciples rebuked those that brought them. 14 But when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God. 15 Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein. 16 And he took them up in his arms, put his hands upon them, and blessed them.

Luke 18:15-17
People were bringing even infants to him that he might touch them; and when the disciples saw it, they sternly ordered them not to do it. But Jesus called for them and said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs."

Matthew 18:1-5
At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, " Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" He called a child, whom he put among the, and said, "Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me."

Matthew 19:13-15
Then little children were brought to him, that he should lay his hands on them and pray; and the disciples rebuked them. But Jesus said, "Allow the little children, and don't forbid them to come to me; for the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to ones like these." He laid his hands on them, and departed from there.

Luke: 6:35-37
But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High; for He Himself is kind to ungrateful and evil men. Do not judge, and you will not be judged; and do not condemn, and you will not be condemned; pardon, and you will be pardoned.


Luke 22:47-51
When his followers saw what was coming, they said, “Lord, shall we use our swords?” And one of them struck at the High Priest’s servant, cutting off his right ear. But Jesus answered, “Let them have their way.” Then he touched the man’s ear and healed him.




Christians are the disciples of Jesus. Disciple, as defined at dictionary.com, follows:

"dis·ci·ple
/dɪˈsaɪpəl/ Show Spelled [dih-sahy-puhl] Show IPA noun, verb,-pled, -pling.
–noun
1.
Religion.
a.
one of the 12 personal followers of Christ.
b.
one of the 70 followers sent forth by Christ. Luke 10:1.
c.
any other professed follower of Christ in His lifetime.
2.
any follower of Christ.
3.
(initial capital letter) a member of the Disciples of Christ.
4.
a person who is a pupil or an adherent of the doctrines of another; follower"

The origin of the word "discipline" is "disciplīna," which means "instruction, tuition" or "to disciple."

If you are Christian, while the whole biblical witness is authoritative, the witness of Jesus must be the final word. As we've seen, there are multiple accounts of Jesus telling disciples (you) to become more like children. There are multiple accounts of Jesus rebuking violence, even in defense of his own life, or the lives of others. Nowhere do I see Jesus, the end all authority of Christianity, promoting the use of violence against anyone, for any reason.

Over and over again we read of Jesus teaching by example, and through explanation, and occasionally a stern verbal reprimand, but never by hitting one of his disciples. Over and over again he bids us not to judge, to be merciful, compassionate, to pardon. If he would have us do that much for our enemies, do you think he would have us do less or differently for our children - the same children he encourages us to become more like? I don't. Jesus did not punish. Nor did he reward. He left that to God. What he did was offer guidance. He set an example of perfection for us to attempt to emulate. He knew that everything he did, everything he said, was being watched, was being heard - was being learned from.

This is true of you as a parent, too. Your children are your disciples. You are leading by example at all times. You're children are always learning from you, even when you don't want them to, and often not what you meant for them to learn. You're children, like those Jesus laid his hands upon, are blessed. Here is my challenge for you, take Luke 6:35-37 and replace the word "enemy" with "child." Should we not treat our children at least as well as we would treat our enemies?

Spanking involves a certain action. One that you may not call hitting, because it is on those few inches of you blessed child's body that are their bottom; but if you moved that same action to any other part of their body, what would it be called? Luke 6:31 tells us "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Are your children not "others." Not people? You've all read the bumper stickers, the bracelets, the buttons, and so on that ask, "what would Jesus do," and I'm sure most of you can now guess what I'm going to say next.

The next time you feel like it would be appropriate to use physical force to get your way or in an attempt to teach something, the next time you feel it would be appropriate to hit a child, whether it be a smack on the hand, a smack on the butt, or beating with a wooden spoon, ask yourself that question. Is that what Jesus would do? Are you actually doing your best to do as he taught? Are you truly one of his disciples? Or are you following him as is convenient, and hoping to play the "I'm an imperfect human" card come the end? No, I don't believe God expects you to be perfect, but I believe he expects you to do your best. Is that what you're doing when you use your size and strength to domineer over someone vulnerable and dependent upon you for care? What part of that is humble?

As for "spare the rod, spoil the child," I have several responses. First, that exact phrase does not appear anywhere in the bible. It was a poet interpretation and rephrasing, part of a longer poem, written by a mortal.

Second, a rod was used by shepherds to guide sheep, not to beat them and frighten them into submission. Yes, there was occasion where a shepherd might, in order to keep the the sheep from true physical harm, give it a smack on the leg, perhaps to keep it from wandering off course on treacherous path. So, yes, if my child steps off the sidewalk into busy traffic I will probably grab them and yank them back to safety as quickly as I can, which may cause an injury as a side effect. However I will not then inflict a punishment on them, nor was yanking them to safety intended as a punishment. I would simply prefer to have a child with an over-extended joint than a child who's been hit by a vehicle going highway speeds; just as I imagine a shepherd would rather have a sheep with a sore leg from a rod than a sheep who has caught its hoof, tripped and broken a leg.

My second thought on that biblical quote is that it was said by King Solomon, not by God. You know, King Solomon? Whose son grew up to be a cruel ruler, who despised, ridiculed and mocked his father, alongside his illegitimate half brothers?

In response to a query posed by an acquaintance who identifies herself as Christian, yet advocates in favor of hitting children (ie spanking); yes, I have read Dr. Dobson's work, and I have read the Bible. I believe Dr. Dobson has lead an unfortunate life, and that he, albeit seemingly unintentionally, has done the devil he professes to hate a great service - and continues to serve him.

Having read the Bible, multiple times, cover to cover, I can say that I sincerely believe that men taking it upon themselves to decide to punish our children was just that - a decision made by men, not a divine command. While discipline may be necessary, punishment is not synonymous with discipline, or an inherently integral part of discipline, and judging and punishing our fellow humans is not something I can recall Jesus having ever mandated, or even encouraged. And yes, our children are humans.


Monday, June 13, 2011

How lucky I am?

One of the judgements I struggle to not make is about people who say things like "you're so lucky/blessed to be able to stay home with your kids. I wish I could, but..." and it turns out their "but" isn't that they need to work to pay utility bills and eat, it's that they wouldn't be able to maintain the same lifestyle they currently do. I want to respond, "so really I'm not any luckier or more blessed than you, we just made different choices. I don't buy new clothes, cars, kayaks or bicycles, or eating out, go on vacations, road trips or skiing trips. We decided that me being with our children was important right now than me advancing in a career or having expensive annual vacations or stuff." It's fine with me if you chose those things, but please don't act like I must have it easier than you because I didn't choose those things, and chose being with my kids. I will probably go back to work someday, when my children are older, but especially when they are this young, home is where we feel I'm most needed and doing the most good for our family in the long run.

Yes, I understand that there is a variety of reasons people choose to work even when they have children. This is about a specific set of, primarily, women, whose comments seem hypocritical and irritating to me, and who I struggle not to judge negatively for what seems to me like choosing status and stuff over spending more time with their children, and who seem unwilling to acknowledge that they could be blessed in the same ways they think I am .

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Christmas Traditions

When I was a kid, with the exception of once, my dad trekked through several feet of snow once a year, up the back mountain, to harvest a Christmas tree. A few years we got to go with him. He liked to put the tree up on December 18th, his mother's birthday. Christmas was her favorite holiday, and it was his affectionate way of paying tribute to her and the holiday spirit she had instilled in him.

"Santa" filled stockings, left one or two presents, sometimes wrapped, sometimes not, sometimes a little of each, and Santa always added new lights, decorations, set up dioramas, etc. We kids were always awestruck in the morning, and couldn't understand how my parents weren't as excited to see what Santa had done. My parents would get up with us while we opened stockings, then go back to sleep for an hour or two. My brothers and I would enjoy our stockings, and impatiently wait to open presents when they woke up.

The only thing distinctly different for my children is that Santa only fills stockings. I told the girls I sent Santa a letter, telling him that we get lots of presents from our family and friends, could he please take an extra present to someone less fortunate instead of bringing it to us. As of yet, that seems fine with everyone here. We load the stockings with treats, many of which are edible or usable, like granola bars and goldfish crackers, a little candy, bubble bath, new character undies and socks, chapstick, some little trinket toys or instruments, homemade play dough, new art supplies... things to keep them busy and fed while we catch up on rest before present opening, things that we regularly buy anyway, and things that are fun and disposable.
Maybe it's just my kids, but they love their Tinkerbell underwear, goldfish crackers, and anything that makes noise or a mess.

This year I traded stocking stuffers with a friend who has similarly aged children - small toys her kids or my kids have received throughout the year and don't play with; a metal kazoos, a prayer drum, mini nail polishes, matchbox cars, etc. Along with those, I found and/or purchased a few small, party favor style toys, that I"m going to attach to strings and hang from the bottom branches of the tree for the girls to pick off. I have a Christmas tea set that Santa is going to give them - set out for them with little breakfast snacks, and a Playmobil Christmas set to arrange. We'll see if the Polly Pocket and Ryan's room doll houses get assembled for them, and whether or not they get wrapped. It depends on how long it takes this Santa and her helpers to get everything else done.

What were Christmases like for you as a child? What traditions have you continued with your own children, and what have you changed?

Thursday, November 11, 2010

The Fog Will Lift, Eventually

After reading the following question, via Mama Birth on facebook, I decided to blog my response.

"Is it just me or have the last couple months been a struggle? I'm always tired n cranky. The kids are constantly bickering n whining & driving me nuts. I don't want to stop co-sleeping or breastfeeding my 20mth old, but I'm feeling so exhausted &... over it. Or is it 4yrs of broken sleep finally sent me mad?"
Oh how I empathize. In my case, I do think it's largely due to 4 1/2 years of broken sleep; but I think it's specifically due to practicing all of those energy consuming attached parenting practices while trying to maintain a certain lifestyle (or at least exude the image of it), in a culture that doesn't offer adequate support. For example, if you (or I had) had other adults and/or significantly older kids/teens our older kids could conveniently go play with while we "slept in" or took a nap, that broken sleep wouldn't matter so much. Instead, primarily on our own, we're expected to be bright eyed and bushy tailed after maybe eight hours of broken sleep, have our four year old to preschool at nine, after a nutritious breakfast, keep the house (and the car) at least fairly tidy, healthy lunch, healthy snacks, healthy dinner, and maintain consistent bedtime routine. Somewhere in there we're also supposed to make sure that everybody gets bathed regularly, including ourselves, laundry is done and sorted, the liners are pulled from everyone's boots to dry, the dishes are done, and that we regularly go through and get rid of all the excess junk toys that keep multiplying even if we don't buy them. Don't forget to get your own hair cut once in a while too.

If you're a natural, attached parent, you're also taking time to listen to kids, to interact with your kids, to work with your kids, as individuals with a birth right to respect and consideration. And you probably realize and regularly remind yourself to be on your best behavior during all of this, because you know you are child's first and most significant teacher. If you are a natural attached parent, this is all even more exhausting for you because you do respect your children; you don't let them cry it out to make your life more convenient, you're probably deeply opposed to threatening or punishing your children into fearful obedience, if you're like me you also try to avoid bribing and rewarding them into obedience.

Anyone who has ever had an intimate, respectful relationship with anyone can tell you that it's sometimes exhausting. Trying to cultivate a relationship like that with someone who barely speaks your language and whose brain truly works differently than yours, takes exhaustion to whole new level. I love my children - my "job" - but they are often as exhausting as they are fulfilling. Even if you have a supportive partner and some supportive local family members or friends, it's often not enough to significantly alleviate that exhaustion. All too often they too are struggling with the exhaustion this lack of supportive culture so often creates.

It's easy for those who chose early, parent-lead weening and for those who chose to coerce their children into sleeping in separate beds and/or in separate rooms to tell us how we could make our lives easier. It's tempting when it's wrapped in a package that says "don't feel guilty. You need to take care of your own mental and physical health too." While I don't wholly disagree with that statement, in this context, I won't accept it. I know that's the easy way out. I've done research, I've weighed pro's and con's. I know that evidence shows that people who breastfeed longer are, to put it simply, generally healthier. I know that kids that co-sleep are, generally, happier. I know that kids that are respected, not manipulated through punishments and rewards, are generally happier, healthier, better adjusted people.

So, I've toughed it through. My youngest just turned two. She is a high maintainance mama's girl. I used to dread leaving her with anyone, even my husband, because I knew she would be fussy and miserable while I was away. I felt guilty putting my "needs," that seem to stem from the flaws in a culture she has no control over, before her emotional and mental well-being. I can't put my well-being before an infants and not feel bad about it.

Here's my silver lining;

I knew that eventually it would get easier.

Slowly, especially in the last couple of months, it is finally getting easier. My youngest is very slowly becoming less reliant on my presence. I finally found some teenagers close by who both my kids and I am comfortable with, who watch them for a few hours once a week. At first I really did take naps for almost the entire time my kids were gone. Now I only nap for half of it. I have a friend who share-nurses my youngest, who occasionally spends the night and keeps the "baby" in bed with her or watches her during the day once in a while. The youngest one is finally starting to sleep for at least a few hours by herself at night. By which I mean in a big bed with her sister, without me right next to her. She still wants to feel skin when she reaches out, and if she doesn't, she wakes up and is upset. She still usually spends the last half of the night next to me.

I still feel like my brain is made of mush most days. I still often feel overwhelmed by the magnitude of trying to raise happier, healthier, better adjusted people, in our culture. But it really is getting easier. The fog of exhaustion is slowly lifting, my brain is starting to function again, and I'm finding that I'm proud of myself. I know that even if I didn't (and still don't) always do the best at practicing what I preach, even if I yelled sometimes, spent to much time on the computer, meals weren't terribly healthy or organized, even though I sometimes resorted to threats and/or rewards, and routines were all but non-existent for some periods, I know that I tried.

Of course, it still sucks that it often takes the first half of any given day to perk up from the lack of sleep the night before. What frustrates me more is that so many people would rather tell me to do it the conventional way, their way, than occupy my kids while I take a nap. Seriously, nap would usually do me more good than most lectures.

Friday, August 13, 2010

To each their own?

I agree, up to a point, that there's no need for us to criticize or try to correct other people's parenting methods or styles, that we should all do our best to accept and support eachother as much as possible.

Unfortunately, the way other people parent their children does often have obvious effects me and my children. It effects my childrens' perception of adults, of parent-child relationships, and it effects how those other children treat me and my children.

I quit working at a childcare center in a local gym because, as much as I enjoyed the employee membership and discounts, I was tired of my children being exposed to violent, threatening, mean parents; parents who openly hit (spanked) or threatened their kids with that type of violence, in front of my children, or who constantly criticized, ridiculed and humiliated their children, etc. I want my kids to trust adults, and I don't want to have to explain to my four year old why that "grown up" thinks it's ok to hit their kid's bottom, bite their kid, or scream at their kid, call their child names, or say mean things to their kids.

(Just for the record, I find parents who condescend, patronize, pamper, and compulsively praise and/or reward to be almost equally offensive.)

I might not tell you how to parent your kid, but I will ask you not to behave like that in front of me or my children, and I may tell you I think you're behaving very poorly, probably embarrassingly, not to mention ineffectively. I feel like the least I can do for my children is let them know that I will always do my best to stand up for them, and for other vulnerable people. You know, like other kids.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

willing participation

A few days ago, at a mothers only potluck, a woman told a story of her sons' resistance to "obeying" her when she told them to mow the law. Every Saturday there was battle of wills, punishments threatened, and resentful youth coerced into doing the task. This cycle repeated itself week after week. One inspired Saturday morning, she got up and after her normal routine, casually said, "If you need me I'll be out mowing the lawn." Before she was even half done with the job, both boys had joined her and taken over - without any requests, threats, coercion, or resentment. They've done it every Saturday since, without being reminded.

It got me thinking about chores, or tasks as I now prefer to call them. (Chores has a negative connotation to it.)

About a year ago, for a few weeks, my (then) three year old refused to brush her teeth. Enter nightly power struggle. And of course we were right to try to force her to brush her teeth, right? Good oral hygiene is essential. After a while though, it was not just exhausting, but, honestly, traumatizing. How could we expect our three year old to learn that her body is hers and hers alone, that noone else has the right to touch her without her permission, how can we expect to instill in her the confidence to say "no" to someone threatening, when we, her parents, responsible for protecting her, weren't even respecting her cries of no. So we stopped. For three days we said nothing to her about brushing her teeth. We said, "oh! Look Honey," to eachother, "it's time to brush our teeth," and my husband and I would head for our toothbrushes, then go lay down on the bed with the nightly stack of books. On the fourth day, she joined us, and with a few exceptions, has every night since.

When I was a kid, my brothers and cousins and I often referred to the adults in our lives as 'dults. As in "The 'dults want to us to pick up the garbage the dog tore up in the yard." In general those 'dults asked a lot of dumb questions and gave a lot of dumb orders.

We didn't know the word dolt back then, but now I can tell you the definition of 'dolt' is almost synonymous with how we felt about those 'dults at those times. Our responses usually went something like, "if the garbage bothers you, you pick it up. It doesn't bother me, so why should I do it? If you don't want to pick it up, then don't let it bother you so much." In typical fashion, arguments would ensue, usually ending in some sort of compromise that didn't leave anyone involved feeling satisfied. On the 'dult's part there was frustration, exhaustion, and those feelings and fears of inadequacy that every parent whose child "won't listen or do as she's told" feels; and there was frustration and strong underlying resentment on our part. Did they think we were their slaves? Why should we do the dirty work they weren't willing to do?

Now I realize how much more was going on in subtle and subconscious ways.

I chuckled when I heard the lawn mowing story, because so many times I've been through the same act with my children and children I've cared for. If I command they do it, they might. If I start doing it and ask them to join me they're more likely to. If I do it, willingly and joyfully, because I want it done, because I will feel better when it is, and my children witness this, then they will not only join when requested, but will often just jump in, or ask me if they can or if I'd like them to. Sometimes all it takes is saying, "hey, let's do [insert task] together. I'll start." They don't feel as though they are my little servants, as though I am a tyrant dictating they do the undesirable work so that I will not have to suffer the drudgery of it. They don't feel like I'm valuing my own preferences and desires over theirs, and trying to force them to accommodate me. I might have to willingly, joyfully do it myself multiple times before they jump in, but generally, they will. I try to remember to be willing and cheerful about the tasks that are generally seen as "mine" too, as my attitude directly teaches them how they should approach "their" tasks. If I can't be willing and cheerful about it, and it's not a matter of extreme importance (life, death, or a dirty diaper), than I do something else until I can again appreciate that task. Most of the time, I don't see much point in grumbling about things that "have to" be done, like changing dirty diapers. Diaper time is belly button raspberries and toe tickling time.

Not that any of that is always easy, but here's the part that most parents I know have the hardest time acclimating to; in order for this to work, there cannot be any rewards or punishments involved. You must sincerely be willing to complete the task on your own if they don't jump in. You could extend the courtesy of asking if they'd like to help this time (every time), but prepared to graciously accept their no, and trust that your child is an inherently social being, with an inherent desire to be accepted and valued, that they will grow to do what is expected of them and to follow the examples set for them.

As is often the case, the younger your child is when you adopt this approach, the easier it will be. You must give your child ample opportunity to be social, to participate in accepted, valued activities that encourage development, even when it's not convenient, not the task you wanted them to do or they are not yet able to do it to the same extent you are. For example, if your two year old wants to help do dishes, let him. Get him a stool or chair, set him up at the sink, and let him wash all the cups and plates and spoons - or as many as he wants to. When he's ready to wander off to play, leaving some dishes undone, let him. Now that he knows he's welcome, he'll be back. You might have to rewash a few, it might take longer, but it probably hasn't shortened your life expectancy any, and really, what were you going to do with those few minutes that was more important than nurturing your child's sense of social and self value? If your four year old is hungry, let her make herself a peanut butter sandwich. She's not likely to stab her eye out with butter knife, but if you just can't stomach the idea of letting her have one, let her use a spoon. If she asks for help, give it to her, no strings or criticism attached. If your six year old wants to help weed, and accidentally pulls up an iris, thinking it's just weird, fat grass, bite your tongue unless you can gently, encouragingly show them the difference, without being upset at them for the mistake. It is essential that you do not hover while they do these tasks, as it would likely give them the impression that you do not believe them capable of these things. Do something else, nearby, keeping busy and watching only peripherally.

If your children are older, it may take longer for them to start willingly participating, unasked. Any change in lifestyle or discipline is going to require an adjustment period, (sometimes much longer than we'd like), dedication, and a belief that you are doing something beneficial for yourself, your children, and society in general. Children are often resistant to change. They may test you in unexpected ways. They may simply refuse your invitations to join in tasks for a long time, or they may ask "you're not going to make me do it?" They may ask, "what do I get if I help you." My response would be, "I can't make you do anything. It's your choice," then whistle my way through the task at hand; or for requests for rewards, a smile and "I'll take care of it," should suffice. I don't know about you, but my head is always full of ideas and thoughts that could use more sorting, and what better than some repetitive, mundane, but useful, task to give me time to meditate on them?

I suggest that you evaluate your own reactions to events, and attitude toward tasks. See if you can identify any of the same behaviors and attitudes that are frustrating you in your children. Ask why you resent or dislike the task at hand, why you are reluctant to do it. Could it be that you were never given the chance to do it just because you wanted to? That you were never given the opportunity to grow up in an environment of obvious unconditional love and acceptance, whether or not you did your chores. That you feel like these are things you have to do, rather than things you choose to do? Could it be that it was taught to you, probably unintentionally, that these are tasks that 'normal,' socially accepted people grumble about and try to avoid, pawn off on others, or do only because there is no way around it? Do you complain about your job or about all the work you do around the house, or about how hard it is to do anything with your crew of wild children, your uncooperative rebels? Do you then expect them to do differently, to go "work" (school, tasks, etc) willingly, without complaint, and to be anything other than the whiney, wild, uncooperative rebels you've labeled them?

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Botfly = gross. If I did get one though, I'd be glad I'm not a mouse.

Tetrodotoxin = scary stuff in the hands evil voodoo witch doctors. Voodoo scares me.

Typing with one hand because a baby is occupying the other = tedious = brief entries.


Wednesday, January 21, 2009

easily distracted

So many topics running through my mind, each of which I could type a long blog about. However, it is late, I am tired, and even if I wasn't there are so many more productive things I should be doing. Last night I said that today I was going to sort through the mountain of stuff on the table. That didn't happen. Changing plans, I set out to organize my bedroom, but in putting away laundry I discovered I needed more space for towels in the bathroom, and ended up rearranging/cleaning shelves in there, which led to cleaning the counter around the sink. None of this was done to any degree of real satisfaction, half assed at best, since the whole time I was doing any one thing I was distracted by all the other things I ought to be doing.
If only I didn't have such a knack for acquiring stuff, and such a problem getting rid of it.
I have started a garage sale pile, currently stashed under the basement stairs. It's starting to creep out though, there's just so much to get rid of. I don't think I've bothered to get rid of anything since we moved in here.
Not that I was ever a great house keeper, but it's definitely been worse since having daughter. First because moving hurt, so I didn't. And now because everything has gotten so out of hand it's difficult get it back under control.

Monday, January 19, 2009

sometimes children are exhausting.

3 braids and zebra stripes


Her hair is finally long enough to put in braids, and sometimes she even asks me to. She brought me these hair bands and told me, "want three braids mom. Just three." You know, 'cus I was likely to give her more than three?



"Look at my stripes. I gots lots of stripes. I am like a zebra." Maeve got out of her room one morning, a few days ago, without waking me, resulting in orange sharpie 'zebra' stripes covering her arms and legs, among other mischief.

I do realize that it's after midnight and technically I didn't post anything yesterday. But I haven't been to bed yet, so I'm counting this as yesterdays post, and I'll do another one for today, and still say I've posted something everyday since I started this endeavor. I just spent roughly half an hour waiting for pictures to post, then accidentally backspaced over one of them, deleting it. That sucks. I'm taking my baby and going to bed.

Saturday, January 17, 2009



I made these little dolls for Maeve. The first one was an accident. I started out to make a very different doll and ended up with Jodi (the 'boy' doll in pants), then we added his sister Meg to the family.
Since making these two I've had three orders for 2-5 dolls.
These are 100% cotton yarn bodies with polyfil stuffing and acrylic blends for hair and clothing. I've got organic yarn and organic stuffing for bodies and clothes, but I need to find some I like for hair. Their hair is really their best feature, it's so soft and fun.