stress & sickness

One of the crucial changes we made after Elijah hit two months old (I perhaps should have started sooner) is that I take off with my girl(s) one night each week. From baby bedtime (approx 7pm) until my bedtime (at my discretion),

My mum-in-law recently share the following with me:

A friend of mine just finished taking an evening class at Stanford. The last lecture was on the mind-body connection--the relationship between stress & disease.  The speaker (head of psychiatry at Stanford) said, among other things, that one of the best things that a man could do for his health is to be married to a woman whereas for a woman, one of the best things she could do for her health was to nurture her relationships with her girlfriends.  At first everyone laughed, but he was serious.

Women connect with each other differently & provide support systems that help each other to deal with stress and difficult life experiences. Physically this quality  "girlfriend time " helps us to create more seratonin--a neurotransmitter that helps combat depression & creates a general feeling of well being.  Women share feelings whereas men often form relationships around activities. We share from our souls with our sisters, & evidently that is very good for our health.  He said that spending time with a friend is just as important to our general health as jogging or working out at a gym.

One Tuesday a month, 7-9PM, this happens at the 400. Having been twice, I can vouch that it's worth a try. Tricky to describe, this isn't a TED talk nor a tea party nor a sob session. But time & space is being made where we can form new friendships with glad & sincere hearts. Any & all women are welcome. #shamelessplug

Rookie Book Learning

Lately I keep reading about children and young people born in hard times or hard places: third world countries or the inner city in a time of war. And the more I read these people's life stories, the more appalled I am with myself: the ease & comfort with which I choose to live and allow my children to grow accustomed to living. My conscience smitten, it's making me want new patterns, new habits of working hard, delaying gratification in small ways. Facing childhood fears sooner rather than later: fear of the water, fear of dogs, fear of riding bikes downhill on forest paths. It's a joy to see them have the self-control when things get scary to still trust and obey, to sleep when it's dark, to eat at the table when mama calls, to be thankful for the abundance of food, to complain less, to stop compulsive snacking...

August came to an abrupt halt, the parents who send their kids to school were asking questions that made me panic! When the gentlest friend I know wrote to me from the far reaches of the PNW, I could (at last) sit & write out what Clinch Academy has meant so far to the 4 & 3 year olds we keep to ourselves. We're on our own, but with a few structures in place each morning. 

I've been listening to the Read Aloud Revival podcast, so we're at the library a lot. Various book lists exist, I'm blazing through Five In A Row (borrowed) as the boys' appetite for stories is so crazy & varied. E listens to audio books at quiet time in my room while O still takes a proper afternoon nap. We're on week 4 of an app called New City Catechism, which is exactly 52 Q&A so one per week for a year. It's a great (free) resource to connect our Fam devotions with Songs for Saplings style teaching about God, way less intimidating than the full Heidelberg & Os paced. I snagged a copy of Ordinary Parent's Guide & am borrowing some Bob books to review phonics & really teach E to read this year. He's gotten used to physical work/challenge (2-3 mile hikes or bike rides, in humid conditions or learning to swim, etc) & is ready for mental work as the weather gets rainy & cool. We also have a pocket sized New England Primer for practicing phonics sounds in the car. (I learned to read using Sing Spell Read and Write, but that curriculum is so expensive that I'm just singing everything I remember from it.) It's 10-15 min at a time, 3x a week at least, very repetitive but he really wants to read so I'm trying to keep up my end of the deal.

We're also working on the Kodaly Music foundations, with Curwin Hand signs & rhythm sticks (this pin board is my brain these days.) I want our boys to embrace their God-given voice as their first instrument, with technique & strong music theory foundations. If they move on to piano or violin, that's wonderful... But very few people discipline their voice as a tool of powerful personal praise. It's an insecurity among many many men that need not sow seeds in their sons.

We're just barely hitting our rhythm these days, & def do lessons in between walks to the dog park. But another great resource I snagged is Cleaning House for two reasons: homeschooling means the house can get crazy & the boys need a work ethic that extends beyond academics. In terms of prepping for the potential bickering of being together all.the.time, I also am starting The Peacemaker after my sis-in-law said their team is going through it as adults & with their kids before heading to India this winter.

Is this helpful? I'm not systems-based by a long shot, & am trying not to spend needless $$ or scatter myself in too many directions or drive Nic crazy. I would love to keep up this way, & I love the forethought that writing allows. This stream of consciousness may continue.

Happy 3

photos taken at Belle Isle Skills Course

In motion all day, we celebrate your three sweet years with us! Anything but subtle, fiercely loyal, we love to see you're "ready to be friends with anyone who was friendly & didn't give a fig for anyone who wasn't." What a gracious brother you are turning out to be.

Forest Nursery Homeschool

Mama's Goals for Winter Contentment

• Continue learning a healthy way to feed our family, one that nourishes our bodies & brains
• Include the boys in small bits of food prep & clean-up daily

• Read books on education & solidify our educational philosophy

• Spend 3-5 hrs outdoors with the boys daily, in fields & forests whenever possible

• Keep a nature journal(s)

• Practice the art of story-telling & let the boys narrate back to me uninterrupted

• Learn/refresh a foreign language

• Further acquire a taste for poetry

• Brush up on rusty skills & create something beautiful (watercolor pencils in stockings this year?)

• Memorize Scripture together & some nursery rhymes

immortality

Saturday night our date night was at the Toast to Life event for the East End Pregnancy Test + Help Center, which is a place we want to increasingly give our time & money. Again I am filled with questions on how to approach  friends who are convinced that a pro-choice position makes women free.  Current VA legislation has sharpened conversations, whether with co-workers or in the birth community or with classmates or even family (hopefully in person rather than on FB). It is truly difficult to avoid a raw, unedited, emotional reaction from either standpoint. Because each of us becomes a mother in a unique way, the complexities of our perspectives are unique. I'm sure we could more thoroughly prepare for such conversations to be both intelligent & filled with gracious passion.

Initially, I wondered why an ultrasound is opposed as an invasive prerequisite for terminating a pregnancy. Before any other medical procedure, we expect or even demand that doctor to perform a scan (CT, MRI, x-ray, etc) before intervening with our physical condition. The scan verifies or contradicts the diagnosis, shows the doctor what's going on inside, to inform the procedure. Scientific debate regarding when life begins ended 20 years ago. But that tiny, growing life threatens me: to have a child is to admit that I will not live forever. Someone, hopefully our children, will outlive me. Their presence ends the life I think I want, my plans for the immediate future, my freedom to be incurably selfish, my illusion of immortality. For a mind that embraces survival of the fittest, it makes sense to "end their life before they're strong enough to end mine."

It's more personal than politics can address. Properly planning for parenthood is impossible while I fear my own death. That fear turned me into quite a dragon while carrying Os. Being E's mom for only 6 months, I knew the person growing under that baby bump would instantly kill my agenda. Anger, resentment & shame stole my joy over his life for a time. I let them steal it, all while desperately trying to love him & be thankful for his thriving life. It felt as if the fear might kill me after all.

Thankfully I am surrounded by women determined to nurture & empower one another. In addition to a loving husband, my midwives, doula & friends all rallied in celebration for Os & his complaining mum. The feelings of being alone were lies, of course, but deceptively loud. And suddenly compassion kicked in: how much despair might single mums feel about unplanned pregnancies? Without a previously existing, whole-hearted support network (family, friends, birth professionals, etc) I would have plummeted into postpartum depression. While undeniably pro-life & pro-adoption, my dark path to Os' birth taught me the shallowness of a feminism that denies female vulnerability & the need for women caring for one another. Those nine months were a temporary hardship so this new person can thrive in the world outside mama. My arms, my heart, my home must open not only to the children whose arrival is unwelcome but also to the women who carry them, my sisters, my friends. I could not face it alone. None of us should face it alone.

a survey becomes a soapbox

Today I filled out a survey for a friend about the values of American moms. The survey is completely anonymous, and took about 10 minutes. At the end, I found myself saying some things that have lingered in my subconscious since being called Mama...

"The word Millennial brings to mind a generation who grew up during times of plenty & relative peace, which now faces uncertain economic circumstances yet still craves surplus & leisure. As daughters, sisters & mothers, we can be trendy & flighty rather than loyal & committed, opinionated but poorly researched, ambitious but naive, making decisions based on short-term goals & often missing the joys of delayed gratification. Our grandmothers lived through the Depression, emerged resourceful & determined to thrive. Our mothers perhaps did not feel the need for the Old World common sense & preferred the faster pace & aid of technology. Now we have learned to want both: the old knowledge & the new convenient platform, handmade but innovative, organic 'slow' food without the waiting, family heirlooms upcycled into something new.

Having internalized the "you can achieve anything" rhetoric, we stress ourselves out trying to have it all. A fulfilling career, an impressive paycheck, a committed relationship, well-adjusted children, a beautiful home, a flawless reputation, a sparkling social life. My wisest professor shook us soundly one day saying, "You can have it all, maybe, in your lifetime. But you can't have it all at once. Don't go crazy trying."

(I bet you can guess who wrote this; our name rhymes with Grinch!)"

local, organic, free range

The beginning of this year's garden & faces stuffed daily with mulberries. Efforts are now to relocate the feral cat population, whose excretions are unwelcome (to say the least).
So far we've planted:

• 2 blackberry bushes
• 10 strawberry plants (whose runners number another 10 so far)
• 1 pomegranate tree
• 8 red pepper
• 6 roma tomato
• 10 red sail lettuce
• 4 cabbage
• 4 beets
• 15 potato pieces (in coffee sack)
• 8 ginger pieces (in large glazed pot)
• 10 garlic
• 4 chive
• 4 basil
• 4 dill
• 1 marjoram
• 1 sage
• 50 shiitake spores (to inoculate the stump remaining from last year's hurricane)

2 year old ref. dictionary

mo mogusk= more music (requested at every pause between songs)
yaya = Elijah
beeboo = nickname for baby Os
ah-me = Amen
no no down = telling Os he can't go downstairs by himself
mine, yoos, ows, getta = mine, yours, ours together
utmul = oatmeal
um yogol = yummy yogurt
vio = violin
dimo = dinosaur
ambas = ambulance
choowoo = train
paboo = name for his paci
tumnus = hummus
hey clinch = how he "answers the phone"
cebu = seven
xbuck = xbox

as i grow into a grandmother

Another handmade gift, which I failed to photograph before digging in, was sent home in the arms of my brother as he returned from the rural farm of our NH grandparents over Thanksgiving. Grammie filled a peck-sized basket with her relish, jam, soup, sauce & salsa! After a prudent pruning, their fruit trees exploded this year & we are devouring yet savoring the harvest she sent. With any luck, we'll get to road trip up there this summer & let the boys run amok. (Yes, I predict Os will be running by then.) I hope, with more ease, to also visit Nana for a day trip or two. And as I think of them both, I aspire to be a bit of them both as I grow up with my boys. Willing to travel light in order to see more places & learn more languages; willing to camp out at home & learn to love a simpler, quiet life. Resourceful, adventurous, affectionate, funny, wise. A faithful friend, wife, mother, teacher, artist. That's who they are & who I would like to become.

2 years young

image of last year's b-day


On Friday, E turned two. The day before I was listening to "O Come Emmanuel" & feeling nostalgic about that first Christmas together, when his little voice sang out from the pots&pans cabinet, "Rejoooooo, rejooooooo..." in unison with Future of Forestry. Unaccompanied & unprompted by mama, not for our entertainment, but for his own joy. My heart was in lockdown, enamored with both boys playing together in this rare & peaceful setting. Usually Os is growling with effort to get his two legs working in upright form, as seen below. Happy birthday, sweet love!

good advice remembered

"You can do it all, just not all at once," my professor was quoting her grad school mentor. About six months in our marriage & a semester away from graduation, the plethora of paths before us was paralyzing. That feeling returned recently, as freelance work is a viable option again & options for preschool enter playgroup conversations. Upon skimming this post, this advice came back into focus, for which I'm quite grateful. (Incidentally, the author of that post does great holiday hair, pictured below via A Beautiful Mess.)

dream on

 Lullaby Renditions of Aerosmith - Dream on by rockabyebabymusic

Sometimes ridiculous silliness is right up my alley. Enjoy the irony.

Thankful thoughts

second image via Flickr


Amazed that in the past two days, baby Os has figured out how to transition from sitting unsupported to crawling & back to sitting. Thankful for many pairs of Baby Legs to accommodate his efforts. Thankful that Papa & G-ma Clinch will get to meet him soon! Also thankful for turkey basted in stout & homemade egg nog; recipe soon to follow.

sling 'em

photo via FB


Somewhat random, but worthwhile, plug for a good cause giveaway. Try for a baby-wearing prize & contribute to one man's fight against cancer. Rather lovely, to the eye & the soul.

mission: moderate success

image via Etsy

Yesterday was our first attempt at mama grocery shopping with both babies. Made it through with Os in the sling & E in the cart, no fussing from either, only forgot 2 items. Crucial items: sleeve of garlic cloves & fresh lemons. Still a success, considering how unexpectedly busy the market was. (I forgot about college students re-emerging from summer.) The really strange part was seeing former classmates, who looked relatively the same but maybe older in face, who didn't recognize me at all. Whether because of the dark hair or distraction of sweet-faced boys, I can not guess.

before & after: overdue for haircut

 

Hormone whiplash, if that's the official term, is upon us. Things that no one tells you about baby-havin'... or if someone does mention it you think, "oh that won't be me." For instance after months (17 of the past 24 for me) of having unusually great skin & hair, BAM POW ZAP! Hair falling out & being pulled out by little fists that can't find their way. (Not to mention that it's never been this dark before.) Professional help needed, & received: lots of fun layers, length maintained, bangs to disguise the growing-back-in phase. Thanks to Rene at Guys & Dolls, we hope to have fewer burst-into-tears moments at the bathroom sink.

road trip (mini)

Went a little ways down I-64 to visit the boys' grand-Nana. Mission success, despite the heat & a bit of silly traffic. Love them, love them, love them!

stream of consciousness

image via Etsy

To follow up that last post... we just set up the last payment on my undergrad school loan, a mere four years after graduation. As I clicked the mouse, a feeling of triumph rose & settled into doldrums as I considered how quickly our boys will grow into "school-aged" children. Am I prepared to love my kids by taking responsibility for their education, regardless of what format(s) we choose? Not a teacher by vocation, this reality intimidates the moby-wrap right off of me.


I was the "scout child" for what sort of education would fit our family best. Kindergarten was in public school, travel by bus. Significant bullying & an uncooperative elementary principal changed mum's mind to homeschool the next two years (my younger brother & I). Third grade was a private school, which was intimidating, but I learned to thrive in a social learning environment. In April,  3/4 through the school year already, we moved to another city & attended a new private school, to which I did not adapt fast enough. Everyone had their "best friend" picked already, the curriculum was a different enough pace that I was bored in math but confused in history & science. So fourth & fifth grades mum taught us & found a rather extensive social network of home-educated families in order to help us feel the new town was home. Knowing me well, mum chose the Sonlight curriculum which is a literature-rich, liberal arts, Christian worldview approach. With my parents as my primary educators & the clear expectation that I would manage my own studies, I flourished. School work was completed according to my own motivation level. Because the material was interesting, I loved to read & retained content that dinner conversations could be about the books themselves.


My brother, however, has to move in order to think; thus homeschool frustrated him & he rushed through the work in order to get outside & play. To this day, he is more socially-oriented (I am task-oriented), doesn't enjoy reading & relies on authority to process/summarize information for him. Seeing the discrepancy, my parents sent us to private school after we moved again. From grades 6-12 we continued talking about making a change but never pulled the trigger. We waded through relatively unscathed; I was considered a "good student." All this means is that I learned to discern what each teacher wanted & "worked the system" to earn mostly As, convincing adults that I could handle myself & should be left alone. By the time I got a driver's license, my decision-making process was rather unilateral, not relying on my parents or even my peers very often. Being a college prep structure, our school pushed "gifted" students toward electives in math & science so I took everything through Calculus. But my junior year, I stubbornly chose the responsibility of yearbook editor in order to learn Photoshop & have an extra "free period" without wasting time in study hall. Having an affinity for both photography & creative writing, I not only continued that through senior year but also opted for Studio Art over Physics. Teachers, parents, etc. tried to talk me out of taking art. But I'm so glad to have gone with that gut feeling.


She was the first instructor, Mrs. Guntharp, who had not only an ungrad degree but two MFAs (from The University of the Arts) & who encouraged me to use my brain to communicate visually. As soon as I stepped into the studio, I felt remorse that I hadn't begun sooner. There was a huge learning curve. I couldn't draw realism worth beans. But it didn't matter. I didn't want to leave, unless I could take the work with me. The exercises helped start training my eye to see what it used to see when I was little, in all the play-pretend & story-telling & craft-constructing. It was nauseating to realize at 17 that I had almost been educated out of creativity. Shame on me, for letting it happen. Shame on them, for implying that art was for dumb/lazy kids. She asked if I was applying to any art schools & convinced me to drum up a portfolio for VCU (where I ended up) & Pratt Institute. I even made a trip to Queens to interview, small-town girl though I was. Invaluable lessons through observations made during that trip.


Conclusions: In order to make art & write, both loved, I can study in a non-traditional environment. Fine arts majors aren't my only option. A degree is meaningless if I don't cultivate & become excellent in something I love to continuously do & be. Thankfully, these convictions helped in wading through university prerequisites until I settled on studying under Bridget Camden & stopped trying to pick a minor. That let me explore creative writing courses, art education service-learning projects & fine art photography at the university level... instead of wearing myself out in an arbitrary direction.


Looking at my current life, at home with babies & not even desiring NY or LA, I see why this changeable path was best. Perhaps initially driven by anti-establishment sentiments yet an addiction to pleasing/impressing others (esp. authority), I have the piece of paper everyone told me I needed to be a valid adult. Did I really need it? No clue. Just glad I own my education & hope to help our kids make informed decisions about theirs.

teaching them out of creativity?

This is not only entertaining, but a kick in the bum to how narrow my ideas of schooling our kids may have been. Public, private, home, cooperative? Preschool is sneaking up on me.

toddlers + sprinkler = really good nap

A lovely morning with friends, mine & theirs.