MommyCoddle

ONE simple question, no. 7

Sometimes it's hard to be five. Especially when your older sister is off gallivanting and swimming and having who knows what kind of fun with a friend, and you're stuck at home with your boring old mom, and your little sister who repeats everything you say and fights you for the tree swing.

This is when the mantra begins, "What can I do that's FUN?!?"

If you asked my mother, I'm sure she'd back me up on the fact that I tended to be the perpetually bored child. Especially on Sundays. But my boredom, if I recall correctly, usually led to good things like puttering down at the stream or walking around the house with a tape recorder--reading the newspaper and writing my own radio ads--many of which involved a flushing of the toilet and lots of hushed giggling in the background.

I believe boredom is a good thing for children to experience. Because it often leads to amazing bouts of creativity.

However, it only seems like karma that Mary would be asking me the same question I'm sure I hounded my mom with for many, many years and many, many lazy Sunday afternoons.

Yesterday, I saved the day with painting en plein air. It did the trick and got us through a tough patch of boredom until Dan got home from work and Emma returned from her playdate. (only to drown her sister in stories of how much fun she had. Thanks, Em.)

But I believe it is good for a parent to have a boredom busting arsenal.

So here's my simple question for today:

How do you answer the "What can I do for fun?" question? What activities are in your boredom busting arsenal? What ideas do you throw out to your children in hopes that they'll latch on to one? Between all of you creative mamas, I think it will be a great resource for all of us to share our ideas.

Here's to a boredom-induced, creative summer!

How to say yes

I walked in to the guest room a few weeks ago to find Emma on her knees, on the floor, hunched over something. She was obviously working quietly and intently, and secretively. I stepped closer and she looked up.

In front of her on the floor was a whole battery of off-limits items from my craft stash--sewing scissors, expensive yarn, scraps of fabric, rubber stamp pads, good heavy papers and permanent markers.

I felt my blood boil. "EMMA!!! WHAT are you doing??! These are my things!"

"I had this idea.", she said with a defeated sigh.

I was still upset. This had been happening a lot lately. The sneaking off while I was occupied elsewhere in the house. The getting in to things that normally require supervision. Craft stuff. Food from the pantry. Gardening tools. Things that stay inside the house being dragged outside.

It was making me crazy. Didn't my children understand any boundaries? Didn't they realize they couldn't get into anything and everything, whenever they pleased?

I questioned her further, "Why didn't you just ask?"

"Because I knew you'd say no. You always say no."

And there it was. I was confronted with the truth. Or at least what felt like the truth to her.

Now obviously, I don't say no all the time. But sometimes, I think my pile of "no's" far outweighs my pile of "yes". In fact it could easily bury the pile of yes. Sometimes the no's come from exhaustion--the not wanting to make another mess, the not wanting to break open all the paints or get out the sewing machine, the not wanting to fill another sink with dishes, the not wanting to hike to the stream and carry home dirty toddlers and ten pounds of streambed in a metal bucket.

And sometimes, I catch myself saying no because I think that's what I'm supposed to say. It's what parents do. That somehow I'm teaching them some life skill--to wait, to be patient, that you don't always get your way. And then I find myself thinking, "Now wait. Why did I say no to that?"

And I also realized in some odd way, my barrage of 'no's' was driving Emma to deception. She had ideas and plans that were burning inside of her. Things she had to try. Experiments she had to concoct. Recipes she had to make. She needed to bring these ideas in her head to fruition. And sometimes, the supplies she had at her disposal--some watercolor paints, construction paper, a pair of tiny right-handed scissors, just wouldn't cut it. And more often than not, when she brought her plans before the queen of the house, she was shot down before she even got started.

You've heard me say it a hundred times before, this job of parenting is a continual learning process. And once again, I've learned a lesson. I'm not saying all my no's have magically become a yes--I'm not planning to let Emma float Elizabeth down the stream on an inner tube anytime soon. However, my no doesn't come as quickly these days.

I don't want her to give up on me. To think she has me figured out. To decide that I'm always a no. I want to say yes sometimes. More times. I want to surprise her. I want to follow through on a few of those crazy ideas and see just where that idea takes us. I want her to tell me everything because she knows I'll be just as excited and curious and creative as she is.

I'll say no, when a no is what's really called for. But more than that, I want to be a yes.

Life in the bush (and migraines)

Things are missing around this house. Water bottles. Dishes. Trays. Mail. Benches. Sweatshirts. Backpacks. Boxes of crackers. Yarn. Pruning shears. Small chairs. Pets.

Even children.

I found them.

They're in the bush.

I don't blame them. It's like a snow-colored wonderland. They've taken those pruning shears and carved themselves a tiny home among the soft balls of white loveliness. There's a whole village underneath those branches. Things that are secrets, things I'm not allowed to see (that would probably be the missing yarn, I'm guessing.) Things hanging, things stored in piles. Special seats for company. There's even a toddling two year old who delivers the mail.

I spent some time out there myself just yesterday. Not huddled under the bush mind you--because there are secrets in there. But they gave me a special bench just outside the door. So I took it upon myself to soak up some sun, listen to their chatter while they thought I was sleeping, and allow little hands to cover me in velvety white blossoms. I swear, it was like a spa treatment.

I highly recommend it.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

On Monday, Mary went to the doctor and was diagnosed with migraines. It's a long, drawn out back story, but I'm just wondering if any of you have any experience or children struggling with this. The doctor said her symptoms were classic. I never even knew children could get migraines. Right now, we're trying to treat it with diet changes, ibuprofen, hydration and catching the symptoms early. I'd love to know if any of you have any experience.

five senses

I have to admit, I'm often a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants homeschooler. In fact, I remember being the same way when I was an elementary school teacher. Not so much that I'm not prepared, as much as I'm often struck with an idea when we're in the middle of something else, and I scramble to pull it together.

That happened this morning when we were reading a (very boring) thrifted Science textbook, while we waited for the mobile veterinarian to make a visit to our little farm. The first chapter talked about how we learn about the world around us and discussed using our five senses.

It gave me the idea to let the girls play a little blind-folded guessing game, using all their senses except sight, to figure out what all the items were on my mystery tray.

While they played in the other room, I wandered around the kitchen  looking for things that had texture and smell, sound, and even flavor. (I clued them in when they were safe to taste something. Though I did let them taste the clothespin, just for fun!)

I blindfolded both girls and sat them down at the kitchen table. We worked through the tray of objects and I had them whisper in my ear what they thought each item was. (Whispering was key, because Mary tends to just guess whatever Emma guesses. And I was anxious to see how well she'd do at this game.) 

They loved it and it was fun to see how well they did with their guessing, and what clued them in to what each object was.

Later this afternoon, while Emma was drawing at the dining room table, I gave her a few small circles and asked her to make some observations in each circle based upon her five senses. She was in "a mood" at the moment and gave me a head slumped down on the table, "when can I get back to what I want to do?" kind of effort, but I think I'll try it again tonight, when I'm in the kitchen making supper.

So now after all this, I'm not sure if my girls know more about their five senses, or more about how much fun it is to blindfold each other and make them stick their hands in unknown bowls of food.

Hopefully, a little something was learned along the way.

protein + whole grains

For some reason, my eldest child seems to always give me a rough go of things for several weeks right around her birthday. I remember it when she turned six. And it happened again this January when she turned seven. Maybe it's coincidence. Maybe not. But this year, to be honest, it was a particularly tough several weeks.

It was one of those parenting seasons where I began to question all the decisions I was making for her, wonder if I was somehow "wronging" her, and how I'd failed as a parent. I found myself faced with situations where there was nothing in my parenting bag of tools and tricks that seemed to work.

Eventually, things began to settle down. I think a big part of it, was my change in perspective, which seemed to have a calming effect on our home.

Dan and I also began to notice a pattern. Many of our tough episodes with her seemed to be related to food--whether she was flat-out hungry or coming off some sort of sugary-high. So my focus began to shift, and I realized that I needed to start making some eating habit changes around our house.

On one particularly rough evening, I called Emily and we talked about all this. By the end of the conversation, she encouraged me to focus on two things: getting protein in at every meal (and snack), and making the transition to more whole wheat and grains.

I also started counting points, like I mentioned before, which always helps me be more mindful of where the calories are going, and keeps more filling foods in our diet.

And I have to tell you, the changes have been really good. The rough season appears to be behind us. And on the rare occasion that it shows its ugly head, she's in a much better place to be able to deal with it, and move on.  Me, too.

So I'm back to meal-planning. I'm getting very familiar with my Cooking Light magazine again and delving into out my grandmother's old Moosewood Cookbook.

But you all never fail me...what are some of your best high protein snacks, or whole grain meals and dishes? What's your favorite way to cook with beans? What resources, magazines or cookbooks do you like best? (have you seen this super natural recipe search?? It's great!)  I'd love to have some more recipes and ideas in my repertoire, I think most of us would. Share a link, a post, a recipe. And hopefully, I'll have some time to combine them all into one place so that they are easily accessible for all of you, too.

Thank you, friends.

changing our pace

A few weeks ago, I sat down at the computer and wrote a meltdown email to my husband at work. It said things like, "just getting by each day", "losing everything", "no time for anything", "disorganized", "grumpy", "tired", "always rushing"....

And since email is never the best way to communicate, especially with your own husband, his response wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear...."Maybe if you had dinner ready right when I got home, it would make the evenings less stressful and rushed at bedtime."

Thankfully, I know my husband well and I know that he meant to be helpful with his response, but of course in my fit, I took it all wrong. I think I wrote something back along the lines of, "but it's all the stuff BEFORE dinner that I'm having a hard time with!!!!!" (you jerk!) no. I'm kidding. I didn't call him a jerk.

But after unloading to him in that email, I was somehow reminded that most of the mood of our home life is set by me. I set the tone for our days and my attitudes and outlook are extremely contagious for the rest of my family.

That afternoon, I sat down with a large stack of blank paper and began writing down all the things that I felt needed to change. From simple "rules" like "no toys in the bathroom", to a weekly schedule of which days the kids would take their baths and showers. I put down everything I could think of on those pieces of paper--homeschool lesson ideas, meal ideas, things that I needed to finish or find (ugh.) and reminded myself of the things that would help me feel like I was back in control of our home life.  If nothing else, it felt so good to get all those things out of my head and into print that I could read and scratch through and erase.

Oftentimes, I feel like I need to hit a rock bottom of sorts, before I snap out of my funk, shake off the dust and get my act together again. It takes me getting a little overwhelmed before I make real changes. I wish it weren't that way. But unfortunately, that's often my reality.

So we're not uber-organized now. I'm not the drill sergeant demanding a tightly run household as a result of my latest meltdown. In fact, it may be just the opposite.

I've toned things down. I've slowed down. I've let go of a lot of things. I've said "no" to things. I've made some healthy changes. I've returned to some good habits I used to have.

A few specifics?

I've started planning our meals again.

I've started counting points again. And being extremely mindful about what I put into my body, and my children's bodies--(another thing I want to write about)

I've given my children a few things to look forward to on specific days. Things they can count on.

I've stayed away from the computer until afternoon naps. (sometimes I sneak in a check of email, but that's about it.)

I cut back on my babycenter posts. No more "A Bushel and A Peck".

And the other thing I'm trying to do is not be so super-focused on the things I have to accomplish each day. They weigh me down and distract my attention away from my children.

 Today, it was 11:00am before I had the breakfast dishes completely done and all the school work set out on the table. I let my loading of the dishwasher be interrupted by a trip to the chicken coop, a toddler wanting to feed her doll in the highchair and a little girl wanting to hold her dove and have me take pictures.

And the irony is, though I felt like I was moving at a snail's pace this morning and wasn't getting very far, very quickly, I still got everything accomplished today that needed to be accomplished, today.

And I realized there's still tomorrow. Except for a few things...

Tomorrow, my children will be a little bit older.

And tomorrow they'll be carrying around memories of yesterday.

And I can stand behind them and rush, rush, rush them through to tomorrow.

Or I can stay with them, and alongside them, and savor them. Today.

Just an Innocent Walk in the Snow

So I thought it would be a good idea to go outside first thing this morning. Get the girls some fresh air. Spend a little time exploring in the lightly falling snow.

Look for tracks.

Look at the snow hanging delicately on the pine branches.

Feed the chickens.

Take a few pictures.

By the time we made it out to the back field, around to the chicken coop and back to the front walk again..............

Mary and Emma had gotten in an argument because Mary wouldn't walk down to the stream with Emma. And Emma pushed Mary, sending her tumbling into the snow. Which left Mary crying over freezing cold hands and wet knees. (Mary can't handle any extreme temperatures--hot or cold.)

Emma then continued to give me a little attitude and was sent into the house and her attendance at tonight's 4-H meeting is in jeopardy.

Elizabeth tripped over her own feet and had an up-close encounter with the sidewalk.

By the time I got to the front door, I had three crying girls in the middle of meltdowns while I tried to remove coats, and hats and boots, attend to freezing cold hands, deal with attitudes and check for bloody chins.

Sometimes, in these moments, I have to admit, that I lose my cool. But sometimes the absolute craziness of it becomes suddenly humorous to me, and I'm able to handle it with a cool attitude and a calm demeanor.

Thankfully, that's what happened this morning. And I still managed to snap off a few pictures of the pretty snow.

I love it when things don't go exactly as planned.

Happy Tuesday.

a few notes

While I was away, I kept a few notes of the things I had been doing, tucked in my back pocket. I....

...cleaned the house. And watched it get dirty again.
...filled the bird feeders. Twice.
...thought about sewing. But didn't.
...watched Emma on ice skates on my grandparents' pond.
...had habit withdrawal.
...played a game of memory.
...cooked in my dutch oven. Three times.
...nursed a black eye.
...made soup.
...bought new books. And fell in love with homeschooling again.
...got a better internet connection.
...thanked my husband for a freshly painted pantry.
...administered Tylenol.

...mourned the end of a favorite magazine.
...fussed with my camera settings.
...thought about writing that children's book.
...told my girls the story.
...took a nap. Or two. Or three.
...made spring rolls.
...confiscated angry notes to little sisters.

...gave everyone in the family a haircut.
...started a new book .
...finished a project.

...knit.
...paid bills.
...bought a wing in the library in library fines.

...removed peanuts from nostrils.
...created and shipped out ten valentine crafts for babycenter.
...baked granola.

...made ambitious garden plans. Extremely ambitious.
...turned a fridge door into a dry erase board.
...got overwhelmed by messes. And then recovered.

...fixed a woodstove door that fell off in my hands. Again.
...watched a heron fly low across the yard.
...nursed a rooster with a sore toe.

...ignored the laundry and watched a movie with the girls.
...enjoyed empty moments in my day.
...missed all of YOU!

Hi! I'm back. Yay.

Glimpses of Reality, Followed by Inspiration

I believe a few glimpses of reality are nice every once in awhile. Healthy, even. Here are a few glimpses of reality from my day:

I am making grilled cheese sandwiches while I write this post. My laptop is sitting on the counter beside the stove.

My girls are watching a movie about penguins. And I'm okay with that. Because our morning was full or play and creativity.

I'm listening to Diana Krall on the radio show Art of The Song which reminds me of a boyfriend in college. Which I didn't think of until just this instant. (this is a new-found favorite on the radio and gets my inner singer, songwriter stirred up.)

This is where the girls spent most of the morning. A secret club meets under there. In order to get in, you must be wearing a tee shirt with the name of your favorite sport on it. Mary's says horseback riding. Emma's says soccer. And you must bring a sketch book. If I could fit, I'd be in that club, too.

Later, the girls commandeered the bathroom. Which, when the door is shut, is the warmest spot in the house--when the furnace is working, of course. Which isn't something you can count on.

That's Elizabeth, trying to get into the club. Yes, she's wearing underwear, over her clothes, which is another post to come. Yes, you'd break an ankle trying to get into that room. You should try to navigate it in the middle of the night. Yes, their beds are unmade. Morning "chores" were postponed this morning.

That's my kitchen table yesterday, about thirty minutes after I should have been elbow-deep in dinner prep. Instead I'm up to my elbows in red and pink and hearts and cupids and fancy paper and pipe cleaners. I'm working on some crafts for a new section on babycenter's website. They need 10 crafts, designed, instructions written out, and shipped to be professionally photographed in 7 days. Am I crazy? My deadline is tomorrow.

And now some inspiration to balance out my reality:

**Molly's photography in this post about her new restaurant, Delancy.
**Ali Edward's office tour. I'm getting Dan to build me some of those wooden bins on the wall, asap!
**Kristin's handmade doll clothes, which I think would be great to make for the girls' new dolls. I've already reserved the book from the library.
**This peek at Heather's new work. Stunning.
**Cassi's button clips.
**This post over at Ordinary Courage. It's actually her take on Oprah's latest magazine cover, but her thoughts on addiction, body image are really eye-opening. I'm not sure anyone could read the post without taking something positive away from it.

And back to reality......I burned the second side of the grilled cheese. Bummer.

when nothing is something

The other day, while I was making dinner, I handed Emma and Mary each a piece of thin wire. I told them to "sculpt" something while I worked on dinner. Emma immediately embraced the idea, wrapping it around knitting needles, fashioning birds and tree branches; while Mary struggled to make hers look like something.

"I can't make anything! I don't know what I'm doing!"

I told her that it doesn't have to be anything. It could be shapes, or a design or just bent in a bunch of different directions. And that sometimes nothing, is something.

I think it was a good little lesson for her--the middle child who always struggles to keep up with the things her older sister is doing. Who is frustrated when she can't write her letters like Emma, or draw a horse like Emma, or figure out a Math problem, like Emma.

With the notion that nothing can be something, she was freed up to create whatever she wanted, and seemed to let go of her limiting expectations.

I want my children to know that not every creative project has to look like something recognizable when it is "finished". That the process and the act of creating is just as enjoyable and important as the outcome.

A lot of ooohing and ahhhing over "nothing", from her Mama, also helped.

************************************************

I just started a new series of interviews over at Babycenter, where I'll be interviewing some creative mothers, asking about their craft, how they learned, how they incorporate their children into their creative projects. I'm not sure how many interviews I'll share, but I may be asking a few of you, to take part.

My first interview is Fabiola Perez-Sitko of Fig & Me.. Our virtual paths crossed just a few weeks ago, and now three of her beautiful dolls are hiding in my downstairs closet until Christmas morning. They are the girls' special present this year and their other gifts under the tree will be compliments to the dolls. We are keeping things simple and budget-friendly this year.

I also wanted to let you know that I am always looking for crafty tutorials or ideas to link to on the babycenter blog. I write a crafty feature each week and highlight lots of crafty finds around the web. If you are doing something that I need to know about, please shoot me an email or leave me a comment on this post. The babycenter blogs get A LOT of traffic, so it's a great way for you to let people know about your blog, as well, if you like.

Right now, I'm on the hunt for great holiday crafts, so please send me any and all links and I'll check them out! I have a crafty round-up post scheduled for the end of next week.

good morning

This morning at the breakfast table, Mary asked me, "Mom who do you want to rule? Obama, Jesus, or Dr. Silverman (my OBGYN)?" After we solved that problem, she asked me, "Mom when I grow up will I be a mom, just like you?" Yup, Mary. (no caffeine yet, my answers are bare bones.) "So does that mean you'll die, because there'll be two of us?"

Oh, that girl.

So, good morning. There's so much to say, I don't know where to begin. Your emails this past week have provided more comfort and encouragement than you know. I was overwhelmed by your response. It just reinforced my decision to share all of that with you. Thank you..which doesn't seem like enough, but thank you.

I'm feeling much better today. The past few days I had to take a pill which...ahem, contracts things, if you know what I mean. I was really, really dreading it, and it was stressing me out. And it turned out to be nothing at all---just made me feel a little loopy.

This morning was the first morning that I woke up and really felt completely like myself again. It is a good feeling. I have lots of thing on my to-do list today, but still have the lessons of being still in the back of my mind. I have lots of comforting things planned for our week, some bread baking, some felting, some carving of pumpkins and roasting of seeds.

A few quick, good things before I go--since I'm currently being attacked by a  toddler who wants my lap...

If you hurry, I'm giving away a starter kit of gdiapers over at babycenter. These are the hybrid diaper--an easy middle of the road diaper for those who want to make the switch from disposables to cloth diapers or something greener. I was sent a starter kit to try, and I am since hooked. A total convert. (And those little g pants that go over the liners? Way too cute.) You can read more about my review of them in the post.

These beautiful felted stones are from Lisa of Lilfish studios. I absolutely love them, so does some child in my house who lined them up like this on top of the bookshelf. These stones are responsible for my need to felt something this week. We'll see what we come up with.

Alright...my time is over. Everyone is dressed and booted up, ready to go check on our chickens. We moved them into their real chicken house/coop last night for the first time. We're anxious to see how the ladies liked it.

A new post over at babycenter here--love it if you'd stop by...
More soon, friends.

snapshots

This is Tiger. Dan calls him"Soup", I guess in keeping with the food names we have for the other cats, "Orange Juice", "Blueberry"....He showed up on our farm right after we moved in, sneaking in meals with our other kittens. No one has made contact with yet, except for Emma. But he's getting braver and braver, now even coming up to the porch to sleep on the cushions. Lately, he's been sitting outside the kitchen window on a bench. It's right outside where I sit at the kitchen table, writing, cooking. Yesterday, after much contemplation, Tiger and I made contact. A little crab dip on my finger didn't hurt things either.

What we do with the leftover cardboard. I can't tell you how much entertainment this provided. Simple joys.

Trying to do something with the abundance of unknown pears growing in the orchard in the back corner or our farm. They are tough-skinned and hard as rocks. I cored and peeled them, then stewed them in a simple sugar syrup, thanks to some help from The Joy of Cooking. Much better now.

Moments before Emma's pony decided to throw his head forward, again, sending Emma flipping over his head and flopping on to the ground. My friend, Sarah, whose daughter rides in the same lesson, said it was good I didn't see it. Emma tried hard not to cry, but by the time she got back on, tears were streaming down her cheeks. Of course I wanted to jump in there and check on her and rescue her, but I didn't. She went on the trail ride, came back on a different pony, but came back happy. She's a tough little girl.

The swing. The big swing.

Happy Weekend, friends.

a worthwhile detour

Who knew an impromptu trip to the pet store could work out so well for me?

This morning the girls and I were headed to the library so I could deal with some issues--my last large bag of library books, which I returned last week never showed up as "checked in" on my account. Thankfully, I know which librarian it was--the grumpy one with really strong perfume, I wrote a check to pay my fines, (Yes, I write checks sometimes to pay for our library fines. Just doing what I can to support the local library.) and I knew exactly which books I had returned.

But at some point along the drive, Emma asked if we could please go to the pet store. I get this request several times a week, and I always turn it down. But you know how sometimes, you say no so many times in a row, for no particular reason, that finally, you just have to say yes.

So I did my library business at the drive-in window and we detoured to the much longed-for pet store.

We wandered the aisles. I let the girls stand, faces plastered against all the cages and tanks. I answered questions, I said no to every request for dog treats and cat toys--I left my wallet in the car. And then finally, we left...three red-faced, weeping girls dragging along with me out to the parking lot.

You might be wondering how this could have possibly turned out well for me, but just wait. It gets better.

Elizabeth was crying because I had to peel her pudgy fingers off the cage bars of the gerbils. Emma was crying because she had already named, and grown emotionally invested with one honey-colored hamster, and dear Mary was crying because she just wanted another plecostomus.

At first, I began my mother diatribe about how "I was going to remember this next time they asked to visit the pet store." And, "you have four kittens, six chicks and five guineas to love and take care of at home.", etc. etc. None of it was doing any good. None of it was doing anything to stop the wailing in the back of the car.

But then my wheels started turning. I remembered that I was in the process of establishing a chore system with the girls and thinking about letting them begin to earn an allowance. So we spent the rest of the trip home discussing these new ideas.

I still don't have all the kinks worked out in my system yet, but all the girls heard was DO CHORES + EARN MONEY = BUY THE HAMSTER/PLECOSTOMUS MYSELF!!

The conversation in the car immediately took a turn. From Mary, "Mom I promise I will never make you angry again. Mom. I promise I will always clean up after myself, even when I don't really want to. Mom. What chores do you want me to finish when I get home? Mom. I promise you are the best mom I've ever heard of."

From Emma: "Mom, I'm going to make my bed, clean the whole downstairs, mop the kitchen floor, and clean Elizabeth's room when we get home. How much money do I need to get a hamster? I already have about sixty dollars, I think. (she has maybe, three.) I'm guessing by like next week, no the end of this week, I'll be going back to get my hamster."

We got home and they barreled out of the car. By the time Elizabeth and I got inside, they were tying aprons on each other, talking like Laura and Mary Ingalls, and heading upstairs to make their beds. I just stood back and let the magic happen. They made their beds, picked up laundry and brought it to the washing machine, picked up the bathroom floor, washed the windows in their room. Emma cleaned Elizabeth's room and laid out a diaper and PJs for naps. Mary picked up her toys in the hallway, and even carried things back downstairs to their proper place. (that never happens!)

It was like having a team of merry maids arrive in my home. It was a beautiful, beautiful thing. Brings a tear to my eye. Finally, when they began plans to clean out a closet I pulled back on the reins and brought them back into their room for a talk.

I told them how happy I was, and told them I would work on a system so that we could keep this kind of thing up, and yes, they'd be able to earn a little money in order to save up for their pets. I gave them each fifty cents for their enthusiasm and we called it a day.

I'll let you know when I figure out my system. But for now, I'm still enjoying the post-pet store high. We might just have to go back tomorrow.

content

When life gets full or overwhelming, I find myself continually coming back to the simple comforts in which I find respite from the swirling life around me--watching my hands and fingers rhythmically move with a pair of needles and yarn, measuring and mixing and pouring in the kitchen, pruning and shaping the fruit trees in the orchard that have been sadly neglected by past owners of our home.

There is something special about these processes. Something unique about them. It's the starting with nothing, but a few ingredients--a favorite ball of yarn and set of worn wooden needles, a jar of flour, some spices and cream, a tired sagging tree and a pair of loppers.

It's the ability to start with nothing and produce something. That's the beauty. That's the simplicity. That's where the joy comes from. In creating. In providing. In restoring.

In creativity realizing itself in work.

Of course, you'd have to know that Wendell Berry would provide even more inspiration...from Andy Catlett:

"..the thought has come to me that the old world in which our people lived by the work of their hands, close to weather and earth, plants and animals, was the true world..."

And another that always sits somewhere closely in the back of my mind, also from Andy Catlett:

"The world I knew as a boy was flawed, surely, but it was substantial and authentic. The households of my grandparents seemed to breathe forth a sense of the real cost and worth of things. Whatever came, came by somebody’s work."

Of course there are many things I want to pass on to my children, but if mine were able to reflect upon their childhood and be struck by similar things as these, I would be content.

A place for everything...

I promise, I'm not going to talk about cleaning and organizing for the rest of the year, I'm just a girl on a mission at the moment. This weekend, I was once again confronted by the fact that I am very hindered by mess. This isn't to say I have a clean house, it's the daily struggle to get things in their place, put away, cleaned and dealt with that hinders all other aspects of my life, especially my ability to be ready for anything, ready to jump into a project or activity with my children. If my kitchen is messy, I don't want to bake cookies. If the living room is messy, I don't want to go in there and teach you how to knit. I have to clean first. It's pretty pathetic, I know. Especially when I feel like I'm never completely on top of the cleaning, so it is a daily struggle. 

This weekend, I spent a good chunk of Saturday morning cleaning and putting away things in the kitchen. Things that had been sitting out on the counters, things on the shelves, dishes that needed to be moved to a giveaway box, etc. And having a clean kitchen got me excited to be in there--I baked, I made a good dinner, I even broke out the dehydrator--something I've been wanting to experiment with for awhile now. (Dehydrated apples? Big time, yum. Before you know it, I'll be dehydrating their lunches and storing them in airtight bags.)

As I cleaned on Saturday, an old saying came to mind: "A place for everything. Everything in its place." It's our new family theme, I've decided. Our mantra. What we're talking about this week in school. What I'm reminding myself and my husband.

In the meantime, Emma and I embarked on a little experiment this afternoon. We wanted to figure out which would freeze faster--salt water or fresh water. Our discussion about fresh water (lakes, ponds, streams) and salt water (oceans) made me realize that Emma has never been to the ocean, though we live just a few hours away now. She tells me she'll never swim in the ocean--the sharks, the jelly fish, how deep it is, and now that she realizes it's full of saltwater, it's even more reason for her to turn up her nose. Just wait and see, Emma...

With the absence of two thermometers we had to modify our experiment and began checking our water samples in the freezer every ten minutes. It was a great excuse to use my new TimeTimer, which I love. The visual aspect of the countdown is so helpful for children. Especially my daughter, who needs to know how long until every next event in her near future. "How many more minutes until my riding lesson? How many more minutes until lunch? How many more minutes until Daddy gets home?" The concepts of minutes and hours and seconds have always been difficult for her to understand. But I'm thinking this nifty little timer will help with all that. Plus it's just plain fun to turn that big red dial and watch it disappear.

So the experiment was generally a success. The freshwater froze first. Elizabeth drank the saltwater and spit it out all over the kitchen floor. And tomorrow we're going to race to melt ice cubes with the salt shakers.

Sounds like a good time.

If I can just get the dinner dishes cleaned up. Kidding.

(kind of.)