Is it me or do you just love me for my jungle gym?

We went to visit some new friends last week. They'd been to our place a few times, but it was the first time we’d been to their house. All four kids were excited to the point of hysteria to see each other. They played and ate and the mom and I talked and enjoyed each other’s company.

That night at bedtime I asked Orlando if he had had a good time.

“Yes. They had a jungle gym in their house!”

I tried again. “I know! But did you have fun playing with the kids?”

“And I liked that toy pizza! And hiding under the blankets and pretending it was an egg and then hatching!”

“But what about Shan and Raj? Do you like playing with them?”

He flipped a page in the toy catalog he has carried with him everywhere since it arrived in the mail five days ago, and said. “Oh, yeah." He sighed. "I pretty much love them.”

Ox-Cart Man

Ox-Cart Man is the story of one year in the life of an 18th-Century American family. The book is written by Donald Hall and illustrated by Barbara Cooney.

The book starts with the father loading his ox-cart with all the food and items each family member has grown or created over the year. He walks ten-days to the market and sells the goods, buys others, and returns home, where the family immediately starts using the items he's bought (a kettle, a new needle, a new knife, and the special treat of peppermint candies) to replace the items they've just sold.

When we found this book over two years ago at the library, Orlando and I instantly fell in love with it. At the end of the book, he sighed, "They sure do a lot of projects!"

"Yeah," I said, "They sure do." And I thought to myself, It's called living.

We are not alone in our love for this book. It won the Caldecott Medal back in 1980. We love it because it is cyclical, simple but detailed, and illustrative of our relationship to the land and each other. We love it because it's about life.

Unschooling Myself

Sometimes I don’t know how I am going to do it.

I still have plenty of days when I feel completely insane. Grumpy. Exhausted.

There are so many days that seem amorphous and not necessarily beneficial for any of us. Almost always the projects we begin are interrupted. I have trouble creating a sense of flow to our days.

And then a week like last week happens…

• Almost daily, Orlando used the magnetic alphabet. We start by putting the alphabet in order on the top. Then he puts together words and asked me which “way” the letters go (orientation) and what words he has made. I point to and sound out each letter. He asks me to sing the alphabet song with him many times. He asks me to say each letter in his name so he can spell it out. He recognized that his name has the word "land" in it.


• As I took off my necklace before bed, Orlando commented that I must have a million necklaces. So the next morning we all counted out all my necklaces (14). He practiced two different kinds of clasps, taking necklaces on and off. The boys have worn necklaces most of this week.


• Mica and I spent an entire playdate working on not hitting the other little girl we were with.


• Mica did puzzles while Orlando swung on the trapeze.


• Rom read books with the boys, I read books with the boys, the boys read books on their own.


• Mica sang "a-b-c" and counted airplanes at the Museum of Flight ("two-two-two").


• Both Rom and I drew airplane after airplane for Mica (it was trains for Orlando when he was this age), and Mica did some drawing of his own, too.


• We walked in the woods, noticing leaves, lichen, moss, mud, mushrooms and bear bread. Mica looked up and said “trees.” The kids decided to move the fallen leaves off the horsetail ferns to another spot. They ran across one-plank bridges. We listened to flickers and another bird we couldn’t yet identify.


• Orlando attended art class and did a painting in the style of Picasso.


• On afternoon, Orlando drew a bat’s face and a mouse on his tiny chalkboard and brought them to me in the kitchen.


• Rom and I both had items to return in the mail, and I asked Orlando if he wanted to see on the map where we sending all the packages. He said yes, so we looked at the four destinations (Kentucky, Ohio, Minnesota, and Victoria, Canada). Then we looked at where Grammy and Grandpa, and Kiersten's Family, and Hester's family live. Then he wanted to see France and England, where Sir Lancelot and King Arthur lived, respectively.


• We went to the park twice. We ran into friends and played there.


• Both boys rode their bikes all over the house and put blankets over their heads, playing "pooky ghost."


• We all went to the store together, and Orlando pressed the buttons for me on the machine.


• We went to the library (twice). Orlando picked out books and helped me push buttons on the machine (I tell him which ones to push by the letter the button starts with).


• We noticed three different kinds of fungi on our walk home from the library.


• At the library, Orlando discovered a picture book about a young girl who travels to Nepal with her father (who is from there). Orlando asked to see Mt. Everest in the atlas, and then his music CD was from Central Asia with a song from Nepal on it.


• Orlando played the cello, a ukelele, did some drumming and marching, and learned about quarter notes, half notes, and dotted half notes.


• Rom told Orlando and Mica mummy stories, and Orlando asked me about the "real" mummies, so I explained the ancient burial practice.


• Later, Orlando asked me about how we die and how the earth was created.


• Orlando cuddled on my lap and practiced buttoning and unbuttoning my sweater.


• Orlando went to science club and learned about mixing liquids (milk and food color and dish liquid; cabbage water with baking soda and cabbage water with lemon juice; water and color, oil and color, and mixing oil and water).


• Orlando discovered the needle-felting box and brought it to me as I finished up in the kitchen. Together we made a ladybug. Orlando did all the cutting, counted out 10 inches on the ruler, poked with the super sharp needle, counted out the dots, poured out beads, rolled up his own felt balls, and we talked about the differences between yarn and felt.

This is what we made together:



(though Mica has since pulled off her antennae)

I definitely feel that although Orlando was eligible to start kindergarten this year that he would have struggled. Out of school, I see him gaining a greater interest in teaching himself letters and phonics. He is making friends and enjoying their company. I am glad that I am able to be there with him and help him develop conflict resolution skills, and that I can seek out and find out activities and experiences that fit his interests and needs.

When I finally step back and look up from whatever disaster or half-finished project or stressful moment is happening, I get a glimpse of the bigger picture... I realize the ladybug looks okay without antennae, and that this week may look nothing like last week, or this week. I start to see that things for us are slower and more spread out (and messier) than "school."

I start to accept the path we have chosen, and enjoy it.


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Last year, I was writing about saggy boobs.

Orange

+ + +

Last year, I was writing about giving birth to Orlando, born at home with midwives; and Mica, born at home unassisted (just me and Rom!).

Orlando Clears the Way

We were on our way to art class. We were running just a little bit late. We listened to music from Africa and watched the colored trees and painted homes go by.

I signaled left and turned on to the freeway on-ramp.

"Man, it's traffic," Orlando reported from the back seat.

"Man, it sure is." I was surprised to see so many cars, but I settled back in my seat.

I thought, We'll get there when we get there. (I've given up getting stressed about traffic. Almost.)

I noticed Orlando in the rear view mirror. He had pulled the rim of his baseball hat down over his face. Then he lifted it up and pulled it down a few times in quick succession.

"See, Mama! I am making the traffic go away!"

"Really? You're doing that?" I kept one eye on the road and the other on him. His face appeared from under the hat to inspect the cars that surrounded us, beaming simultaneously with expectation and satisfaction.

"Yeah, I am!" He went back to his magical thinking and enthusiastic hat pulling as we inched along.

Finally, we filed past the obvious (to me) site of now-cleared accident and picked up speed.

"See, Mama! I did it!"

He was so proud, and certain. I chose to give up my grown-up logic and gave him a hearty congratulations.

+ + +

Last year, I was writing about a few of my favorite things, like vitamins and Rom.

Paradox

For Haiku Friday with a theme from One Single Impression.

*

kids: my greatest
incentive and challenge
to meditation

*

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Last year, I was writing about walking in the woods with Orlando and Mica.

Okay, now try singing it in tune

Photo by Epiclectic.

We’re not musical people. When Orlando proudly screeched out Baa Baa Black Sheep at age three, I knew we had to do something to help save him from his tuneless fate.

Two years later (hey! I was busy having another baby!), I signed him up for music class. I had heard of a guy — a professional musician guy — who had kids come to class and explore all different kinds of instruments.

And they do explore!

Last week, the kids (there is usually 3 to 5 students) made their own xylophones out of two pieces of wood (1 X 4s about a foot long) and some foam. They plink-plonked them with drumsticks, listening with keen ears for which board was the high note and which the low.

The week before that, the kids all played a giant squawking synthesizer together — free to press any button they wished to see its effect.

This week, they pulled out squeakers and whistles from a box called “wind,” playing each and deciding if they liked the sound or not.

At one of the very first classes, they played a clarinet, one piece at a time, starting with the mouthpiece and ending with the bell to make a complete instrument.

And every week, they bring a song they know and want to sing and a song they've chosen from a CD of music the teacher gave the week before. The songs they sing vary from ABCs to those the teacher has taught them (A-Tisket A-Tasket, Witchdoctor, Polly-Wolly Doodle). The CDs have included types of instruments (wind, percussion, stringed), classical from different time periods, music of the Mediterranean, Africa, and now South America.

It turns out that Orlando likes “All Around the Kitchen” by Pete Seeger, the oboe and the triangle, Jamacaian work songs, Haitian merengue, and certain classical songs because they sound like monster music.

He is learning how to read music by clapping along to short and long lines on a page (and will soon graduate to notes), and learning rhythm by drumming with almost every song they sing.

We listen to the CDs in the car and while doing crafts. We practice clapping by reading our "sheet" music (Mica helps us by dancing on the page). We watch YouTube videos of the The Purple People Eater, and we bang on our drums.

The class has brought music — and music appreciation — into our family life. Perhaps we’ll be singing in tune yet.

Mother Rising

I recently blogged about the organization Moms Rising, but now I want to tell you about a blog called Mother Rising.

This is a relatively new-to-me blog, but I was hooked right away. Wendy interviews a mom every month, posts about craft projects she does with her son Satch, often starts posts with an arresting quote, and offers book recommendations (for parents and kids).

She is a multimedia artist and her artist's touch and passionate heart shows in her every post.

I saw this tagline of her blog, and I couldn't say it better:

Mother Rising is a blog about inspired parenting and creative living.

Go be inspired by her creativity, and then go do some living of your own!

(go ahead and click it... ) Mother Rising

Little Bear

Isn't it funny how a classic can totally pass you by? When Orlando was around three years old, I was shocked to discover the Little Bear series, written by Else Holmelund Minarik.

The books were published in the sixties, and though my mom sent them to Orlando, we never read them when we were kids.

What can I say? I love the Little Bear books! Orlando does, too. His favorites are Little Bear's Friend and A Kiss for Little Bear.

In a Kiss for Little Bear, Grandmother Bear wants to send a kiss to Little Bear, so all the animals in the book carry the kiss from one to another, with just a little (very tasteful) hanky-panky between two skunks, until the kiss reaches Little Bear.

In Little Bear's Friend, we meet Emily, a young girl. There are four stories in the book -- how Emily and Little Bear meet; how Duck loses (and finds) the ducklings she's babysitting; a birthday party at Owl's tree; and finally, a parting between Emily and Little Bear (until next year).

I love how these books honor a child's mind, use simple and timeless storylines to engage the humor and interest of children, and how I almost cry every time Little Bear and Emily part (it is that well-written!).

Other books in the series... Little Bear (the first one), Little Bear's Visit (with his grandparents), and Father Comes Home.

Mindful Mama, Meditating Mama

Photo by Reine68.


A couple of months ago, I thought I wanted to start a new blog, one more focused on mindfulness and meditating...

I spent some time debating what its name might be, and came up with Meditating Mama.

I used to think that meditation and mothering were mutually exclusive. And they basically were, for me, for the first few years. I learned to meditate when my first child, Orlando, was five months old. I meditated every day of the introductory class, and then I stopped.

For the next four years, I took solace from my once-a-month sitting meditation at my Buddhist parents group; I meditated sporadically, often lying in bed nursing my child; and I attempted to practice mindfulness as much as I could during the delirious days of early motherhood and the chaos of mothering two.

Then this year, with a five-year-old and an almost-two-year-old, I began a daily sitting meditation practice for the first time. I could see, immediately, how the time I spent meditating directly influenced my ability to remain mindful during the day.

There was no going back. My babies became children, and I became a bonafide meditating mama.

Of course, I'm not sitting every day now. That lasted just a few months. Maybe, though, I will sit regularly again. Yes, I am sure sometime I will.

Until then, I try to stay mindful, and I write.

Mindfulness (being aware of the present moment throughout your day), sitting meditation (a dedicated time to notice whatever arises in your mind), and mothering (practicing kindness and finding my honest, open heart) are inseparable for me.

I realized I didn't need another blog. I have Mama-Om.

Mama-Om has helped me immensely — by providing a place to talk about peaceful parenting; by challenging me to stay honest to my ideals; and most importantly, by giving me a way to connect with others.

I am so grateful to everyone who has shared their humorous, heart-warming, and helpful stories about walking the path to peace.

Turns out there are a lot of potholes. Turns out there is long way to go. Turns out we’re in this together.

Blessings,
Stacy

Orange

+ + +
Last year, I was writing about my acupuncturist breaking up with me.

Perspective

I was sitting in the front seat, reading a book in the fading light. Rom was driving.

Orlando said, "I can count five to one."

"You can?" I looked up from my book and back at him in his booster seat.

"Yes. Five, four," he looked up at the ceiling, "three, two, one."

His eyes met mine, "See?"

"Yes. You did it."

Rom and I exchanged a look. Not only can our son do spontaneous addition in his head, he thought of counting backwards all on his own. He's so smart!

"I can count to a billion."

"Really?"

"Yeah. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 13, 15, 16, 18, 18-1, 18-2, 81, 8-100, and a billion!"

"Wow."

I try not to think, At this rate, it'll be a billion years before he can even count to twenty!

Okay, I know it will never take that long. It will probably be more like eight-one-hundred years!

Okay, really, I know that it will take no time at all.

Because just like we've always done, I lay off the correcting, and try to wait for or subtly create opportunities for him to hear and see me counting. I try to let go of numbers and reach for trust.

Just like 8-7-9 morphed into 7-8-9, I am sure he'll get over his aversion to 12, 14, 17, 19 and 20.

And beyond.

Disguise

For Haiku Friday with a theme from One Single Impression.

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lion hands, red cape
roaring, jumping, ablaze
you, in child's costume


*

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Last year, I was writing about Buddha in my neighborhood.

Flying Through the Air

Photo by -syko-.

Every week, Orlando goes to his circus class.

Yes, circus class.

He flies through the air on the trapeze, bounces more enthusiastically than Tigger on the trampoline, practices headstands, and balances on a giant bouncy ball.

(There's no fire-eating or taming tigers. Yet.)

But he is taught by bonafide acrobats and circus performers, who work for the School for Acrobatic and Circus Arts (SANCA), here in Seattle.

The school is a "non-profit organization dedicated to improving the mental and physical health of children of all ages by engaging them in the joyous creativity of acrobatics and circus arts."

What this means is a lot of kids doing goofy and empowering moves that might land them a heckuva job someday.

Orlando loves going to his circus class. He's mastered four steps on the tightwire (which, you might be relieved to know, is only a foot off the ground).

He can balance one of those big balls while it is held in place, and if you know my son, you know that he weighs not even thirty pounds. Put that little tyke on the trampoline and he is definitely sky-bound.

And the first time he did the big trapeze, his joy was absolute. He beamed a smile across the cavernous gym space and waved furiously at me, while I had that universal proud-sorta-terrified mom smile glued to my face.

My kid is growing up! And doing amazing, scary things!

Joining the circus, indeed!

(And not one to be left far behind, Mica is already practicing his headstands so he can join, too.)

October's Roundup

I publish some of this in my sidebar, but for those of you read in a reader (like me), I thought I'd share in a post.

Here's what has stuck with me...

from Misplaced Mama

This is a post about turning a painful encounter into an opportunity to understand, and care, for another. Read about this wonderful mama and her three wonderful kids and how they pass the rose.

from Carrie Logic

A new-to-me blog by a local mama of two boys under five. She wrote a post asking why she just can't seem to get it together, "Is it me? Is it the kids? Is it society?" Um, all three.

from Chronic Mamas

About beautifully written essay by a mother living with Type I diabetes.

from Wild Parenting

Feeling isolated? Me, too.

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Top commentators...

Amy at Transformational Parenting

Lisa at Mama Milton

Melissa at Taking What Is Left

Mrs. G at Derfwad Manor

Top referring sites...

Kids and Other Pets
Stories and stunning photos from a new family of four.

All Adither
Where neuroses never nap!

Flotsam
Stories from the flotsam family -- Alexa, Scott, and their daughter Simone, who was born premature.

Cheerio Road
The blog of author Karen Maezen Miller, who wrote Momma Zen: Walking the Crooked Path of Motherhood.

Sanctimony
Helena's website. Vespas, photos, lipstick, a bird, and some cats.

Thank you!


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Last year, I was introducing my idea of Mad Mama Moments. You know, like the more honest version of Hallmark.