Being an Example

Elwyn found an "A".

This morning, I slept late.  I was down and mopey about I don't even know what before I even got out of bed. My back hurt (sciatic nerves suck), and my general morning serenity was missing - what I like to call a Blah Morning.  I'm sure you can identify.  Before I was even dressed, I could hear Elwyn screaming downstairs.  "Owww! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!"  This wasn't the sound of my son being truly hurt.  I know that sound.  This was the sound of three consecutive nights of too little sleep, two days of sugar immersion, and a small scrape on his toe.  Impressively loud screaming, near hyperventilation, and ridiculous irrational behavior ensued for about a half hour.  Ugh.


Clearly, it was time for some nature, so we decided we would go to Busch Conservation Area and do a walk with my mom.  On the drive there, Elwyn began crying again, saying his toe hurt really bad.  I acknowledged that it probably did sting and feel uncomfortable (Please note that I was trying VERY hard not to scream at him to stop crying because there is no way that hurts this bad!  I try very hard to match my inner angry with outer serenity when dealing with the boys.).  "Can you move your toe?"  "Yes."  "Does it hurt as bad as some of your other cuts and scrapes have hurt?"  "No."  "So, do you think it's worth so much of your energy, screaming and fussing over it?"  "I guess not."  So, I explained that when something happens, whether we get a scratch or have our feelings hurt or anything, we need to decide how bad it really is, and then whether or not it is worth our time and energy.  Most often, we just need to take a few breaths, and move on with our day.  Then, Elwyn explained, through more emergent tears, how he had had bad dreams too and they were really scary.  So we talked about what fears are worth worrying about and which are so unlikely, that they too are not worth our time or energy.  We talked about how when we wake up, even when we know that there is not a lion in the room, and we start to feel relieved that it was just a dream, we can still feel a little scared.  Baz brought up how he sometimes has really good dreams that he got a great toy and is soooo happy.  Then when he wakes up and realizes it was just a dream, he feels disappointed that it wasn't real.  "But then I get happy again, because I think that it could still really happen some day." We decided that being hopeful for something that made us happy was, indeed, worth our energy and time.  I said, "Boys, you've always got to expect that great things will happen for you, but remain happy with what you are fortunate enough to have right now.  And don't waste time or energy on things that don't really cause you pain, or on fears in your imagination or dreams.  Spend your energy on those things that make you happy and that you are lucky to have in your life now."
 


Having to teach these things to my children, to train them into hopeful, positive, and grateful human beings, reminds me to embody those qualities as well.  Obviously, you have to practice what you preach with kids, with anyone.  And for the most part, and I think with most people, we don't choose to disregard these ideas.  We just forget.  Its so easy to forget.  If I didn't have these little guys to parent, I would forget way more often.  Lucky for me, today I got a good reminder.  Expecting the best in the future, while being satisfied with the present, can provide a content balance of hope and gratitude.  I found myself expecting that our hike would go well, despite our injuries and lack of sleep, and being grateful that I had this opportunity to walk through the forest with my mom and children.  I was about to spend my time, despite the 'to do' list at home, with people I loved, out enjoying nature, which I know I need.  So we parked the car at the Conservation Area, all feeling a little better about our day.

By the end of the walk (only .7 miles), Baz was almost in tears because he was so 'tired and hungry and thirsty', but Elwyn was expressing how happy he was that we made it back to the car, and that his toe was feeling better. Somehow explaining to Baz that he is lucky to be able to walk at all and to have fresh water waiting at the car, didn't do it for him.  I think he had been Pollyanna-ed out for the day.  Lucky for me, I get to continue to teach these lessons over and over again, and to be an example to my boys and to all those around me.  So, hopefully, I can forget less often how important hope, gratitude and a good attitude are in our lives.

And to boot, I saw these lovelies in my backyard when we got home.  They had clearly been born in the yard very recently because they were so small, still a bit shaky on their legs, and did not know how to follow their mother, who easily leapt the fence.  The doe jumped back and forth, carefully coaxing them through the fence pickets, so they could join her outside the yard.  Then they were off.  How lucky I was to have seen it all.

                           

14 Months Ago

Its been over a year since we returned from Australia.
And, as I made myself toast this morning, I couldn't help but think how far away it all seems.
What was once normal, is no more.
Toast is even different - its quality, style, frequency, abundance.  Toast.


As a small toast to my memory of Australian toast, and to provide myself with a small walk down memory lane, I give you a small visual of our "normal" from 14 months ago.  But first, remember that today, here in St. Louis, we are trying to brave through the last frigid days of a seemingly endless and exhaustive winter.

We are trying to find fruit in season, minimize our daily car use, and wondering if we should join a pool.

We are trying to make walking, hiking, and riding scooters and bikes a typical request, not met with groaning.

Just keep that in mind as you peruse these photos, and think about how much a physical environment, climate, and geographic location can affect your everyday habits, choices, and lifestyle. 

We went to Little Kickers here once a week.

Our tiny kitchen had a small table where the kids spent hours a day on average.

This is the ferry we took several times a week.  Chris took it to work every day.

The kids daycare where they spent one day a week.

We had swim lessons here every week.

Rainbow Lorikeets as common as a Chickadee.

The bus stop we waited for almost every day.

The lush, botanical path we walked many times a week.

Manly beach, one of our favorite weekend outings.

Our family room at Christmas.

Where Chris arrived home from work every day.

Bushwalks.

Balmoral Beach - another favorite.

The Kookaburra that perched on our deck every so often.

The Nature Reserve we ran, walked and played on several times a week.

The pram.  This amazing cargo ship was attached to my arms constantly.

My ridiculous attachment to Mr. Carrot

Why do I love him so much?
He is so cute.
And innocent.
And healthy.
As far as stuffed toys go, he's sort of the bee's knees, if you ask me.  He isn't branded and doesn't have a weapon, which immediately gives him marks over many other toys.  And he's so squishy and snuggly.  Look at that smile.  How could you not love Mr. Carrot?  Mr. Strawberry is squished down there too.  You can see his little eye peeking out from under the books and other stuff.  I love him too.  

It is, of course, utterly ridiculous.  These are toys that I hardly ever see, much less actually play with.  I don't play with toys.  My kids play with toys.  And if they decide that they don't need Mr. Carrot and Mr. Strawberry anymore, out they go.  Right?!  Right.                right?

We are simplifying, minimizing, throwing stuff out, giving stuff away, getting rid of clutter, to create a better home and lives for ourselves.  It's awesome.  And today, we went through the bin of stuffed animals.  Again.  We did this a couple of months ago and got down to one mesh bin.  One bin which we stuffed so tightly that not only do they constantly overflow, but we are popping the seams on the container. Time for another cut.  But, this time, we are down to all the animals with attachments.  Attachments for the kids, and, apparently, attachments for me too.

I guess the thing that really bothers me is that they choose to give away these cute sweet little guys instead of the turtle with Sea World emblazoned across its chest, or the blasted Angry Bird, or the stuffed penguins that cost a dollar and will fall apart within the month.  But its my own fault for asking them to make the decisions.  It's the right thing to do, I know.  But this is how we end up hanging on to a plush bird that they never play with and sending off sweet Mr. Strawberry.

It's another thing out of the house.  That is good.  There is no need to mourn these things.  Things.

I know that once they are gone, I will not long for Mr. Carrot or Mr. Strawberry.  I will not pine for them or wish they were here.  I will not miss them.  It is just like soooooo many other things in this house. Only when I look at them, do I cherish their place in my life.  But I only look at them once in a blue moon.  Just like that set of candle holders in the basement that don't really have a place in the house, but every time I look at them, I just looove them and can't give them up. The days, weeks, and months that I live in my house, I don't even think about them. I don't even use candle holders.

I believe attachments to objects are, for the most part, silly.  Some of them, however, I do stand by:  the two monkeys that my sister gave to my boys the day of my dad's funeral, the little dogs that they have taken on every plane and car ride we have taken, the little ostrich that Elwyn held almost every night in his crib for the first year of his life, the little blue dog my dad got for me when I was a child.  I'm not ready to sever these attachments yet.  Maybe some day.
But, today I will sadly say goodbye to Mr. Carrot.
And then likely never think of him again.

January - Portrait a Week

 Of course I'm behind.  Did anyone expect otherwise?  But I'm working on it.

JANUARY PORTRAITS

1/52

Baz, in front of the fire place with lots of blankets and pillows.  

Elwyn, playing with Kinetic Sand.  Slim pickins this week for Elwyn.  Oh well.

Beautiful January sky.


2/52

Elwyn, with that sweet smile.

Baz, helping me shovel

This is what nature has given us lately.  Harsh winter.  LOTS of snow.  I believe this was 10 inches or more.

3/52

Baz, making a castle for all of the animals and then arranging them along its walls.  

Well, its come to this:  A manmade beanstalk has to be my "nature" shot.  But honestly, I'm impressed I found even this for this week.

Elwyn, being assistant to the Magician/Clown at the City Museum.  He tried to steal the show upon entering the ring by bursting into a round of cartwheels and tumbling.  It was awesome. 

4/52

Elwyn enjoying a path at the Botanical Garden

My thug of a son.  I love winter because he wears hats all the time.

It was a choice between this well-composed shot in the greenhouse, or a picture of the frozen Chinese Garden pond, which definitely represents the nature around us more accurately.  I decided this was a better choice.

Measuring Scavenger Hunt

nothing nicer than doing a measuring scavenger hunt in comfy pajamas

Part of the joy of homeschooling is that you can create learning opportunities tailor made for your children, utilizing the things that they love and that appeal to their minds, without having to resort to worksheets or table work all the time.  First off, that can be ridiculously difficult and comes with a lot of pressure.  But, moving on.  Without trying to get too deep into learning styles and best practices for retention and meaningful application (blah blah blah blaaaaah), the trick can sometimes be as easy as thinking about what the kids like to do, then applying a visual morph of that activity and the material to learn.  Today, I will be morphing the amazingly awesome scavenger hunt with measuring and graphing. Voila.  Brilliant. Not as cool as morphing a hot air balloon and a zebra, but it'll do for today.

Checking to make sure they got everything

The secret is that, as is true with many of my brilliant ideas, it was more an accident than an intention.  Instead of measuring a bunch of lines on a paper, or even a bunch of drawn circus animals (which I did last week, and was more fun than boring lines), I decided to add a little movement and draw a bunch of objects in our house which they were to locate, measure and record.  After a brief discussion on how we measure things (this wasn't our first encounter with measuring), I gave them a ruler, a tape measure, and the clipboard with the drawings, and sent them off to measure the items.  Honestly, I didn't even think they would see it as a fun scavenger hunt.  I just wanted them to get out of their seats a bit.  But it didn't take long to realize how awesome this was for them.  They were quite sad when they found all nine items and had to stop.

And then, as they were going to graph their data, still basking in the glow of my brilliance, I realized how terrible terrible terrible my format was. Granted, when I started it, I did not realize (or plan) exactly what I was doing, so it ended up looking a bit messy and confusing.  It was rather horrid.  But, has potential.  Perhaps you can learn from my mistakes:

1. I did not provide proper space for recording the lengths.  (and then had to number the entry spaces in addition to the drawings which confused the kiddos)
2. I did not line up and organize my drawings/data entry spaces nicely.  This would have made it so much easier to use.  It was confusing for them to figure which data entry belonged with which picture.
3. Too many numbers all over the place!   
1. I numbered the images and data spaces, which were then filled in with numbers, which combined with the mistake below, made it quite confusing as well.
2. I didn't measure the things myself.  I just looked for small items and assumed they would work, which they did, except when the #4 drawing was 3" and the #3 drawing was 4" and then they were trying to transfer the data to a graph.  If I'd taken the time to look at approximate lengths, and perhaps label, instead of number, the drawings, the poor boys wouldn't have had such a hard time keeping track of where they were on the page.
3. The columns on the bar graph were numbered, to correspond with the numbered drawings, which also had numbered data spaces, with numbers written in the spaces.  Again, I should have labeled the drawings as "globe", "stapler", etc.  and written those labels on the graph instead of numbering. 
4. The graph I provided for them to fill out had labels at the top, which made them want to graph down; which would have been fine, except I had numbered up from the bottom on the left side.  Bad planning.  Actually, no planning. Just bad.  

This stuff is so obvious to everyone else in the world that it is embarrassing.  Its been a while since I prepared graphs.  I'm sure there were lots of other mistakes, but those are the major ones I will take to heart when doing this sort of activity again.  

Trying their best to transfer their data to a bar graph, despite my terrible and confusing format

Baz doesn't really like coloring.  Crazy, I know.

I know.  Its just awful.

Other ways to use the scavenger hunt activity:

• Long walks in the stroller or drives in the car - I've done special drawings for highway driving, inner city driving, 5 mile neighborhood walks through the neighborhood, walking route to the store.  I make them double-sided and stick them in clear paper sleeves.  With dry erase markers, they can do theirs on either side, wipe them clean and trade. 
• Phonics/Reading - finding things with particular phonetic sounds or endings, out of finding different letters or words on items in the pantry
• Math - looking for things in sets 2 - 10.  Draw pictures of certain items, which the kids have to count and record, or make equations with the drawings (for example, # of shoes + # of coffee cups = ), finding certain objects and guessing what is heavier, family data (height, weight, age, etc.)
• Science - measuring specific objects outside in nature; looking for the smallest stick/leaf/tree/rock you can;   Collect 10 rocks/sticks/leafs and guess longest, shortest, etc, then measure; Look for shadows and measure, recording source and time of day, etc.

Any great ideas you'd like to share?  I'd LOVE to hear them.  And you might include any helpful tips for people like me:)

Starting from here

Spoiler Alert! Life is not perfect.  Sorry if I ruined that little surprise for you.
This morning was a text book example of my life in all its "unperfectness".  I got out of bed later than I wanted, things didn't go well with the kids, conversation with my husband proved less than awesome, my breakfast got cold, and the dog threw up in the bathroom.  This is the kind of morning that inspires rigid neck tension and constant disgruntlement for the rest of the day.  It is the reason I am eating a bag of potato chips right now, hidden away in the office by myself.

But, I have to say, despite the potato chips,  I was proud of my ability to turn it around today.  It doesn't happen all the time.  Sometimes, as you probably know, enough little things going wrong in the morning can put a gloom and doom haze over the entire rest of the day.  Not today.

Now, to be clear, I was not able to turn it around because that is just the kind of person I am.  No no.  Lately, I have been much more the type to expect a bad afternoon given a bad morning.  But today I did well letting go and practicing self-acceptance.  Yeah me. I'm trying to realize, every day, that this, here, now, is my life. I am not just practicing, until I get all of my shit together.  This is it.  And as cliche and obvious as that is, accepting it whole-heartedly is quite difficult.  Accepting that today, right now, is my life, means also accepting that this, today, right now, is who I am.  I am not perfect. (Sorry, I should have given another spoiler alert there.)  I am a person who wants to be calm, simple, organized, happy, mindful, healthy, selfless and generous.  But instead I tell myself every freakin' day that tomorrow I will get up when the alarm goes off, and that tonight I will finally get the toys minimized and sorted.  When I get frustrated about not getting up on time, or not organizing the homeschool lessons last night, and that trickles down into every single interaction and event of the morning, causing discordance and unhappiness, the trick is to not throw in the towel for the day.  I can start from right now, from here, and turn it around.

Why is it that I feel, if I don't start a new routine on Monday, the whole week is shot and I need to try again next Monday.  How ridiculous is that?  But the damn calendar makes me feel like Monday is the only day to start something fresh and anew.  Can I start getting up when my alarm goes off tomorrow, even though its a Thursday?  I can!  And, just because I signed up for the awesome 28 days of free pilates on line for the month of February, and I have completed only approximately 10 of the last 19 days, doesn't mean that I can't jump in and do my best for the rest of the month.  I need to accept, like I did today, that this is who I am, and just because it isn't exactly who I always want to be, doesn't mean I can't start trying again right now, moving forward, without beating myself up over what happened ten minutes ago, this morning, yesterday, or last month.  Start from here.

So today, instead of carrying that tension and disgruntlement; instead of being bothered and set off by every whine or bump in the homeschool road, I took a breath and realized what a non-deal it was.  I managed to not snap at the boys for not listening to me and not focusing, and then I applied that smallest bit of humor and playfulness to the situation, and everyone was happy and back on track.  I let the morning go and accepted that those mornings happen in my life.  My days are not perfect.  They never will be.  But that doesn't have to dictate the rest of the morning, the day or tomorrow.  Reset.  Breathe.  And reset.  Start from here.

Right now, I am accepting that I love salt and am weak.   No biggie.