January 1

in 2010, I want to
{stay connected with friends}
{knit something for myself}
{finish that sweater for Brian}
{take a photography class}
{meditate}
{continue meal planning}
{eat more veggies}
{eat less at night and more during the day}
{breathe}
{be authentic, always, despite the consequences}
{garden}
{blog more}
{run}
{stay put}
{drink more water}
{go camping with the kids}
{go to a fiber festival}
{spend time in upstate NY}
{and again, stay connected}
{look presentable}
{entertain}

In a previous life

I must have done something very VERY wrong on November 19th. I have come to this conclusion because:

1. one of my kids was up throughout the night
2. It was nearly 10:30 before I got my coffee
3. It was nearly 10:30 before I got my coffee because there was a nearly hour long double tantrum prior to 10:30
4. I attempted to make black beans for dinner but most of them ended up on the floor before they got into the pot
5. my house is in a state of total and complete chaos. Saran wrap, Harvey's milk, and numerous other items have been located in the toy basket.
6. there is a missing jar of honey. I have found the drippings around the house but no honey. One Harvey Tripp is certain to be the culprit as he was lurking around the pantry during one of his sister's tantrums. Opportunist.

I should have taken a picture of my house today and posted it in the Corners of My Home flickr group.

Rocking

I had a moment with Harvey this evening, a nice one, a really beautiful one. It was bedtime, and these moments with Harvey do not generally fall into the category of "nice." As usual, upon my pronouncing "nigh-nigh time," he threw his head back in protest flinging his whole body vertical with the floor. Experience has taught me to hold my arm out to catch him mid-fling. This was a particularly powerful fling and the yells that followed were also on the louder end of average. I persisted in my goal though to get one child in bed, knowing that my quiet time or, in tonight's case, my time to watch the election coverage, would soon follow. He protested all the way to the rocking chair and then quieted almost immediately when I sat down and began to rock. And then he nestled in, and the rocking chair which needs oiling badly, creaked and rocked and creaked and rocked, his breathing settled and so did mine. And then, strange as it sounds, I felt like a fifty something (or sixty something) year old me was in the room watching us. Breathing in and out with me. Feeling the softness of this (our) baby's skin. Standing there with warmth and coolness with longing and with love. Right there in the room with me and Harvey and the rocking.

At Home with the Kids

It is very rare in my life that I make a choice that I am not conflicted about in some way or another. I was conflicted about being a Teach for America corps member, about being a teacher, about working for a for-profit educational company, about working for Teach for America, and now about the choice to stay at home. Except this time it is different. I love almost everything about what I do except what it is called and what it means in a broader social context.

A couple of experiences I have had recently have fueled this feeling and even inspired some self-doubt. For one, Norah's pediatrician whose opinion I respect thinks that it is almost unnatural for children to be at home with their mothers at all times. He looks to traditional societies for answers to many parenting questions--toddlers of hunters and gatherers stayed in large groups with other children while their mothers gathered food for the tribe. Additionally, according to Dr. Joel, Norah and Harvey need to see me pursuing other interests outside of them. Hmmmm..... I have also overheard pretty disparaging remarks lately about mothers who choose to stay home with their children.

Rationally, I can work through the conflicts by telling myself, for instance, that offspring of hunters and gatherers likely stayed with aunts or grandmothers. Or that I do pursue other interests--I read, write, craft, take time to myself while family members are with the kids. I can turn around the insulting remarks and ask, to myself, what is it about one's own life choices that makes one utter such statements?

Most of my moments are filled with a confidence that I ultimately know what is best for me, for my kids, and for my family in general. Despite what doctors might say, I know that my daughter needs to be at home with me right now rather than in a school, if even for one day a week. I also know that I could never match the feeling of deep satisfaction i feel after a day's "work" with a job, no matter how meaningful that work might be. And I say all of this with an appreciation and respect for other mothers (and fathers) whose choices are different than my own.

So, in the context of my own home and within my own close circle of family and friends, I warmly embrace my station in life, my choice to be with my kids. I know that there are some trade-offs and I have to work to compensate for those things--my kids do need to spend time around other children in playgroups, for example, and I need to ensure that they have a happy, healthy, well-rounded female role model. I am working hard to make up our losses here, Now I need to work harder on taking one or two brave steps outside of my circle, outside of my home and into the world with a little more confidence about my life choices. Make sense?

Creative Play

I have been doing a lot of thinking lately about the importance of creative play in early childhood and about how best to foster it within our days. Ironically, I probably do not have to think about this at all--it is likely that my own mother did not and I spent endless hours as a child immersed in worlds I dreamed up on my own. During long car trips, I would fly one or both of my hands out of the window, picking up various passengers on my fingers. Those passengers would occasionally have to double up on the fingers if things were cramped; sometimes they would get angry (and even physical!) with one another. I played with Fisher Price Little People long after my peers put away their toys for other modes of entertainment. I held on to this creative play until well into my junior high years. While I finally put away my Little People (I can still clearly remember the last time I played with them), I continued to play out imaginary scenarios involving dreamed up characters for a long time afterward.
Norah has been playing creatively for quite some time now. She sings to her dolls, talks to them and reads to them; she has just recently though been adopting characters. "You be the doctor," she will say or "I am the grandma." I have to say that I do not think there is much that gives me more satisfaction as a mother--not Norah eating her broccoli or Harvey starting to talk. I simply love hearing my child invent worlds right before me.
As a consumer, I am tempted to buy her "instruments" (costumes, for example) to foster this kind of thinking. As a thinking person, I know that I do not need to make purchases in order to nurture my daughter in this way. In fact, the very act of purchasing items for creative play is somewhat antithetical to the concept and could even hinder the play. So, I have been looking around our house for everyday items that Norah (and Harvey soon!) that Norah can play with and today I started gathering some clothes for a dress-up basket that will have its home downstairs amongst the other toys.

P.S. I may still have to buy her this. I know, I can't help myself.

Baby Carriers

It seems that we have more reasons to have our children on our backs since we have moved to Portland. In fact, we even purchased yet another carrier, the Kelty on Craigslist in the past month. I am a pretty big fan of the Kelty; I like its sturdy framework. My brother and Brian find it cumbersome, though, and both of them prefer the Mei Tai (recommended to us by Suzanne) which we purchased last year when I realized that my back could not withstand another day with a child attached to me in the Baby Bjorn. Norah, at nearly three years old, still goes in the Mei Tai (and loves it) for short shopping trips and hikes that are too steep or lengthy for her to tolerate. There is something nice about the feeling of my children's breathe on my back and their soft cheeks resting on the back of my neck. Someday they will be too big to ride with me, and for Norah, that day is coming all too soon.

The Creative Family

There are quite a few popular blogs out there that I read on a semi-regular basis. I read angry chicken, a blog about crafting and cooking, Apartment Therapy for cool children's finds in fashion and design, and frolic! for fashion. I enjoy most of what they have to offer, but if I go a few days without reading them, I do not notice. Not so with SouleMama. I read Amanda Blake Soule's blog on parenting, crafting, and creating with children daily and as soon as I get a free moment. There are mornings when i am so excited to see what she posted the previous night that I visit the site briefly for a taste of what I will be able to read during nap time.

Soule relishes the role of mother and spends her days homeschooling her three, soon to be four, children in Portland, Maine. She's a big advocate of "natural" parenting (encouraging her children to spend a great deal of time outdoors, limiting their exposure to t.v., encouraging artistic expression, etc...). Now, I don't think I am a homeschooler and I know I am not an "attachment parenting" parent, but I do think there is much to be learned from Amanda Soule and her family. While Soule's concept of slowing life down is not hers originally (I think there is actually a whole movement now!), the little moments that she captures on film and posts daily are a constant reminder to enjoy my children and the small moments I have with them right in the here and now. I am not great at this but I am getting better and here I owe some thanks to my cyber friend (although she doesn't even know me cyberly) Amanda Soule.

I recently picked up a copy of her book, The Creative Family and really haven't been able to put it down. I am a little scared though-worried that I might be finding another pastime that will compete with my knitting habit. i got a sewing machine for my birthday from my mom and my aunt and went to the fabric store for supplies for my first project. Wow, is that place fun!! My sewing machine, though, is less fun... I have not yet figured out how to properly thread the thing--every time I do, I end up with a knot. So, off to sewing classes I go. Once I do get the machine working properly, I am excited to start trying out some of the sewing projects she has described. Project updates to come!