The Bigger Picture

As I write this I am enjoying a quiet house (Loren put himself to bed with the kids) and a cup of herbal tea.  There have been very few moments of stolen solitude this month.  February can be a tough month for me, smack in the middle of winter and prone to the post-holiday blues etc.  I vowed to make it different this year, and different it was.  We came down with round two of the stomach flu.  I didn't even know you could get it twice in a winter. You can.  That knocked me out.  For two weeks.  I was so tired I could barely get through the days.  I think it terrified me--a glimpse of what it would feel like to not be able to care for my family and self--that threw me into an emotional tail spin and just as I was getting back on my feet the kids came down with a hacking cough, irksome enough to keep us all awake at night. I did my best to snuggle them and humidify them and use homeopathic remedies galore.  I even slathered them in garlic-infused coconut butter before bed (this actually kind of worked, and made them smell like scampi).  It seems like--knock on REDWOOD--that everyone is on the mend. Except that poor Eli is now undergoing a major sleep regression.

 He has decided he is too big for naps, and after a crappy 30 minute morning nap he refuses to sleep for the rest of the day. I might be more willing to roll with it if he weren't so fiercely grumpy.  Like sister looks at him wrong and he flings himself onto the floor in a writhing tantrum of agony grumpy.  Ugh.  It's not pretty.  And nap time involves an hour of screaming, thrashing and pleading--and that's just my role.  All this attention aimed at the youngest has left the eldest out of sorts, and she has decided to embark on a journey of a thousand whines.  I'm not going to lie.  I have locked myself in the bathroom more than once this week, and turned the fan on just to have the impression of quiet.

Weeks like this are hard.  They make it hard to see the beauty in the journey. It becomes easy to loose sight of the forest for the trees, as the saying goes.  

But these little people who have pushed me beyond my physical and mental limits this month also anchor me with the daily reminder to celebrate small triumphs.  A peaceful bedtime, a dinner cooked that everyone ate and enjoyed (so rare these days).  The delight of a pocket full of Valentines brought home from preschool.  Polka-dot socks and a twirling dress.  A hot cup of joe in the morning.  Pine cones.  It doesn't matter how many pine cones there are in the world, Eli picks each one up and treats it like its the finest treasure in the kingdom. 

And isn't that how we should approach our days?  Each one a precious gift--a rare treasure to be clutched tightly even though it will inevitably crumble a little in our awkward, well-meaning fingers.  Many times this week I have had to scrape myself up out of a self-pitying heap and remind myself of this. Take a breath, start over.

I know that someday in the not-so-distant future I will get to have an uninterrupted conversation with another grown-up.  Go on a date with my husband.  Make some friends here in Palmer.  Finish some of the house/woodworking/sewing projects that need to be done.  But for now we just need to find our rhythm again. 

and we will.

kitchen bitchin'

I try not to make this blog a space where I whine...too much... but I'm going to today.  I love my kids, they are truly the light of my life... but they are also a holy terror (squared) when it comes to dinner time.  Am I the only mama out there who dreads the arrival of the five-o-clock hour?  This is pretty much how things go at my house during every dinner time:

4:55 After coming in from a fun nature walk, both kids are in a great mood.  They are peaceably playing with legos in the sun room.  They don't see me sneak into the kitchen and start peeling veggies....or do they?

4:58 I haven't even finished one carrot before the screaming starts.  Sharing has ceased.  Sadie is hogging the toys.  Eli wanders into the kitchen to seek comfort and to unpack the contents of the lower cabinets for the fifth-million time this week.  Oh, good.  He's tall enough to reach drawers now, so he starts by pulling all the appliance manuals out of one drawer.  While I am picking those up he pulls the silverware drawer out completely, emptying the contents all over himself and the floor.  Thankfully, he isn't injured.  After I comfort him and get him set up drumming on pot lids with a safe {I think} wooden spoon, in comes Sadie.  I guess it isn't that much fun when you have all the legos to yourself.  Now she needs a wooden spoon too...the one Eli has.

5:15 Both kids are playing, underfoot, but not close to the stove, so should be golden, right?  
I put a pot of rice on the stove to cook.  Oh, now Sadie is wildly swinging the broom around the kitchen.  Eli is screeching because he wants the broom.  I shoo the children out of the kitchen after admonishing them about stove top safety.  I've only peeled two carrots.

5:30  Kids have decided to run laps through the living-room kitchen loop while chasing the dog with brooms...well, they both have a broom now, so that's equitable.

5:45  Have tried to redirect the activities to something less dangerous.  Kids have crayons.  Eli is eating his, Sadie is drawing.  Why are they screaming at each other again?  Eli is using his crayons to make dots.  Sadie wants him to make lines.  I want a shot of tequila, but dinner is mostly in the oven.

6:00 I am trying sweep the floor. I turn to grab the dustpan, Eli is foraging for snacks in the swept up debris.  Ugh.  I hear Loren's truck in the driveway.  "KIDS, YOUR DAD'S HERE!" Ok... good, I should be able to get stuff done for a few minutes while they mob their dad.

6:15 Kids are playing in the bedroom with Loren, the house is quasi-presentable and I am just getting the table set.  Loren calls for me... Me, "what?" Him, "Come in here and look at how cute these guys are."  Me, "no."  Him, "no, seriously." me, "no, SERIOUSLY, no." He gives up, probably thinking I am a terrible human being.

6:20  We are sitting down to eat.  We light the dinner candles, say thanks, and Sadie immediately begins to state which things on her plate she "doesn't care for"  Me, "You liked carrots on Monday." Her, "I don't like them cooked."  Meanwhile, Eli is smashing food in his hair and throwing rice on the floor.  Actually, it is landing mostly on Toby's back, because he has taken up a permanent residence below Eli's highchair.  Toby cant reach his back, so Cash is eating the rice off  his back.  Nice teamwork dogs.  I make a mental note to wipe down the wall after dinner.  Eli starts to scream and furiously sign "more."  It takes us a few tries to figure out what he wants.  Sadie has generously given him ALL of her carrots.  He wanted a fork, it turns out.

6:30 After 15 trips to the kitchen to get a fork/salt & pepper/water or milk or both/ napkins/ a towel to clean up a spill I get to take my first bite of food.  I think of the movie Christmas Story and the line, "my mother hadn't enjoyed a hot dinner in fifteen years." I totally get that now.

6:40 The children are done with dinner, and it's pretty much certain that one or both of them need to go straight into the bathtub.  So Loren and I rock paper scissors to decide who gets to finish dinner ala bath monitor.  Sigh...

Is there some magic chill-pill that I'm unaware of, or is this just the reality of dinnertime with a three and one year old?  Someone please tell me that this is just a passing phase, and that once again some day I will be able to enjoy the gift of relaxed and relaxing food preparation...sipping wine, chopping the vegetables while I have a thought to myself... and maybe even an uninterrupted conversation at the table?  I know this is totally a first world problem, and I really am thankful to have good food to offer my kids and even 10 minutes to sit down together as a family.... I just can't help but feel like I'm doing something wrong here...or at least that I could streamline this process somehow to be more peaceful for everyone involved.  Thoughts?  Tips?  Any suggestions welcome (except sitting the kids in front of a t.v.--I really don't want to resort to that on a daily basis).

simplifying

This past January, when I blew the candles out on my very delicious, very non-paleo tirimisu joint-birthday-with-my-husband cake I wondered what it is that a happy mom of two beautiful, healthy children could even wish for.  It has taken me a couple of months to come up with it.  This year, I want to simplify our material world so we can spend more time with each other, and less time being distracted by our things.  It's funny, because when we moved from Nome we got rid of so much stuff-but we still have so much stuff. How does that work?
The cincher on my decision to do this has really been this book:

 

This book is really good. 

I would say it is a must-read for every intuitive-minded parent who feels like something is just not right with the way our society approaches childhood, and child-rearing.  I could go on for a long time about all the awesome things that are in here, but for simplicity sake I will stick to the topic at hand--see how I tied that in? Im already meeting my goal!

A large section of this book is dedicated to ways that you can enrich your children's (and really your own) time by simplifying both your family's material possessions as well as schedules.  My hope is that we will be able to enrich our family's time by paring down in the following areas:

Simplifying what we eat:  The paleo diet does this beautifully.  Not only does buying no packaged and processed food reduce the amount of garbage and waste we make, but the meal choices are very simple and nourishing.  Allowing Sadie to help (legitimately) with meal preparation--doing things like washing vegetables or stirring & seasoning has almost eliminated her fussy eating...except for mushrooms.  She very politely informed me that, "I don't care for mushrooms, mom, but you and dad can go ahead and eat 'em all up." I'll take it.

Simplifying what we wear: Can I just say that the laundry situation in my house has become REE-donkulous.  Between all the clothes that the kids receive as gifts/ hand-me-downs, and what we buy them there. are. piles. It's hard when they are little and go through sizes so fast.  I swear 2/3 of Eli's clothes are two small for him, so there they sit in random spots while I dig through the unfolded laundry to find that one pair of pajamas I'm looking for.  I am never caught up on laundry. And me--I have a ton of clothes just sitting around in piles and I always wear the same five old outfits, so why do I need them all? To make matters worse, we seem to have a bazillion sheets, towels and blankets that always need washed because a diaper blew out or a baby puked, or something.  Kids are messy. I get it. But I have this thought, that If I can reduce the over all amount of textiles in our house there will be less washing and more importantly, less folding and putting away, which is the part of laundry that I can never seem to get to.  I would also like our things to be good quality.  Nothing worse than a cheap shirt for your kid that shrinks up to nothing the first time you wash it-- or seams that fray and come un-done.  I don't have time to mend that stuff, so when I do buy new for any of us, its going to be fewer things of more lasting quality.  I will also try to make stuff myself, whenever realistic.

Simplifying our schedule: This is pretty easy for me, I stay home with the kids, so have a little more flexibility in setting the pace for our days---but still, I need to observant of not rushing my children from enriching activities so I can drag them along on this or that errand that needs run, etc.  My one major goal is to be able to sit down for dinner together at a reasonable time, as a family with no interruptions.  Every night.  I think that is becoming such a lost art, but it's so, so important to the heart and soul of family.

Reducing screen time:  We don't have t.v. but the computer can be just as bad.  After seeing how Sadie's imaginative play began to flourish, and her less-desirable behaviors drastically decreased when our computer was broken for a month I am a firm believer that less=more when it comes to time spent on electronic devices--for all of us.

Downsizing the toy collection: We have really tried to keep toy clutter to a minimal amount in our home, but it creeps in.  Payne recommends the following approach to reducing the amount of toys (there is some sound research behind this--and it very true in my personal experience as well) in your home so your children are not overwhelmed and can use the things they have imaginatively, and care for them.  The process is to gather up all your toys and get rid of half of them.  Keep only toys that you know can hold your child's interest for multiple play sessions.  Fixed toys (items that only do one specific kind of play) get chucked.  Toys that encourage corrosive play--in the garbage, toys that are broken and unfixible...garbage.  When you are down to half your toys, divide that pile in half again.  Those are probably all the more toys a child needs.  At this point you can take the second half of the toys and create a toy lending library, so that your child can periodically swap out a toy for one in the library which is like getting a new toy with no net gain.  I would also like to make sure that for the most part, the toys we do have our made out of natural materials like wood, wool, and other things that aren't ridden with chemicals that are toxic to youngun's body's (and souls.)

Reduce the amount of plastic in our lives:

I don't think there is much more to say about this.  The only true way to reduce the amount of plastic in your home is to step back from the consumreistic rush of buy, buy, buy. If we absolutely need something and it contains plastic then we will get it--but it needs to be essential to the functionality of our household.

So there it is.  I read somewhere once that by writing it down (or saying it out loud) you make it so.  Well this is my manifesto for 32--it seems like it should be simple enough;)