February 15, 2012
Mamatography Week 7
This week’s pictures for Mamatography. I only have four this week — got off track until Saturday, and then didn’t get around to taking one today. For any of you other Mamatographers, I often have these posts password-protected when they include pictures of my little girl. Luschka emailed the password out to the group a while ago, after first including an incorrect password in a group email, but if any of you have misplaced it I’d be happy to send it to you again.
Big fat fluffy flakes — my favorite kind of snow. Not much fell, and it’s disappearing already. The mild winter has been nice in some ways, but I find myself missing deep snow.
Latest in my series of wine-bottle accessories. This is a little red dress and floral headband. It’s kind of hard to make a dress look flattering on a bottle! I think the next attempt will have a fuller skirt to add more shape.
I made some labels for them, with a little space to write the price. They didn’t come out as clear as I’d have liked — probably partly due to using GIMP instead of PhotoShop, and partly because I was printing on scrapbooking card stock. Shaina has the hat and scarf set and the red dress set on display in her fitness studio; thanks, Shaina!
Making quesadillas last night for our lunch today. They’re certainly not hot and gooey the next day, but they’re still very tasty cold, and easier to cut.
February 9, 2012
Thursday
I woke up this morning around 5, unintentionally, and again at 6, the target waking time, and again ten minutes later.
Sleep has not been smooth around here lately for any of us. I have not yet felt sufficiently rested to get back into my desired habit of doing ten to fifteen minutes of Pilates each morning, turning to the snooze button instead. Mark has some form of cold that has been making him more restless at night, which often means I wake more often as well. And Amy has been dealing with some nighttime anxieties, apparently partly related to separation / connection as well as to whatever may underlie her fear of thunder. Like me, sometimes she gets caught up in increasing anxiety around a fear — the thinking about the fear is more upsetting than the fear itself. Anyway, she’s been tired a lot, and some mornings she crawls back in bed after I go to wake her.
Today I spent most of my preschool hours knitting. I’m currently working on the carousel horse dress — almost ready to join in the round under the arms. The intarsia horse is done, but needs some blocking and some clever weaving in of ends in order to look nice. I hope I can do it well enough.
I also had to go admire my tree again.
Parent volunteers and teachers have been busy preparing for the school’s fundraising auction — each class makes a project to sell. Amy’s class painted a canvas midnight blue, and have been painting thick paper shapes with watercolors — flowers, stars, leaves, circles, and so on. The shapes will be layered to form mandalas. Yesterday I painted a black tree on the canvas, with spirally branches to hold the mandalas. It was nourishing, refreshing, to paint it — to do something seriously artistic again. I took pleasure in making the curves as smooth and clean-edged as possible, and in arranging the branches in a balanced and pleasing manner. It’s also been nice to see how others have appreciated this work. Being good at stuff often brings some admiration; it doesn’t always bring affection, and it sometimes brings envy and / or a sense of distance or disconnect. I’ve been on both sides of that, envying and being envied; I wonder if artistic types are more prone to envy and disconnection than more practical or extroverted types.
I got to see Amy’s teacher doing some important and good work.
A little guy, in his second week in the school, began to cry for his mom, and would not be consoled. Ann was able to take him out of the classroom, hold him close, listen to him, talk gently with him, offer him things to explore in the director’s teaching classroom / office, and so on, and eventually to call his mom to come fetch him. (The director spent this time in the classroom in Ann’s place.) It is hard work to stay connected, listening to a distressed little one. I hope Ann gets a little extra nurture today, or this weekend, to replenish that spent energy.
And I joined a Spanish class.
Aida comes each Thursday to do Spanish with the preschoolers, one small group at a time. She is wonderful. Energetic and enthusiastic without being overstimulating or shrill. She has mastered flow — one activity to the next, lots of songs, some motions, some opportunities for each student to do something, lots of repetition. I’ve always enjoyed listening to and observing these classes, which meet out in the hall / atrium so as not to disturb the students still working in the classrooms. I was pleased when she invited me to sit with a class and participate — plus she says it helps the students to hear another adult repeating the lessons and paying attention.
Later in the morning, tiredness really hit me, and that sense of heaviness, a certain taste, of being sick.
Just a cold, I’m sure, but still. We got home, and I set up a video for Amy — with the arrival of Mark’s flashback Atari machine, we’ve given Amy a screen allowance of an hour a week for gaming or watching — and went to bed for three hours. Amy has long been very good about occupying herself when I am sick and need long naps. After her video she turned it off and put it back in the case, listened to some CDs, played in various ways. It costs her… her upset showed up several times, several ways, in the later afternoon and evening. I will have to make special effort to replenish her connection over the weekend.
I had beans soaking for dinner — chicken chili.
But before I got up, we had two stories in bed — she read one to me first, a mini-book from an old High Five magazine. She struggled with some words, just about throwing the book at me in frustration when she didn’t get one right away, but she kept plugging away and we finished it. Then I read a Little House chapter to her. Dinner wasn’t too much work — cook the beans, chop and sauté the onion and garlic, add the chilies and chicken and seasonings and stock… do the dishes… put bread ingredients in the machine on the dough cycle (it’s baking as I write this post; should have been done Monday but we were shelf-shopping instead)… and wait for Mark to get home, which meant a chance to lie down again for a while.
The chili was good. But Amy found it too spicy, and asked if she could make herself some peanut butter and jelly crackers, which meant we opened jars and spread things for her; her struggling efforts were triggering some of that upset I mentioned earlier from not getting enough connection today.
Mark did dishes. Amy cleaned up her things and got ready for bed. I got online. I laughed and laughed revisiting the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest site, especially the Sticks and Stones category where people submit examples of horrendous published writing, including poor translations of instructions, redundancies, statements of the obvious — “If you do not see reflection, you are on wrong side of mirror” — as well as awful bits from novels, newspapers, and more.
Amy is staying in her room, probably finally asleep now. Mark is snoring. The bread will be done soon. Tomorrow, we’ll sleep in a little, have something yummy for breakfast, and then head out to Bremen Bounce. Amy has been saving her allowance money in order to go. Several friends will also be there — school’s out for them — sometimes on days when the place is full, Amy has a harder time enjoying herself. I make a note to pay attention and be there to listen or help as needed.
Good night!
February 8, 2012
February 4, 2012
What shall I call thee?
In college chorus, we sang a setting of William Blake’s poem:
Infant Joy
“I have no name:
I am but two days old.”
What shall I call thee:’
“I happy am,
Joy is my name.”
Sweet joy befall thee!
Pretty joy!
Sweet joy, but two days old.
Sweet joy I call thee:
Thou dost smile,
I sing the while,
Sweet joy befall thee!
This blog started when we were pregnant with Amy, as a way to update friends and family about our family. It’s hardly “becoming” three anymore — we’ve BEEN three long enough that I keep wondering about changing the blog’s name. And while I do talk a LOT about Amy and about parenting, she’s no longer the sole topic of the blog.
Anyone have any suggestions?
I would love something that is short and winsome, that evokes the wide variety of my interests and writings without listing them all, and that isn’t too cute or clever or cliche…
February 2, 2012
January 25, 2012
January 22, 2012
Gentle Christians
In my continuing interest in gentle parenting, grace-based discipline, natural, respectful, positive, whatever you want to call it parenting, I have most recently been following these resources:
Janet Lansbury of Elevating Childcare
Lisa Sunbury of Regarding Baby
Gauri of Loving Earth Mama
Teacher Tom Hobson
Karen of Kloppenmum
And, mostly, Hand in Hand Parenting.
All of these folks are writing from either a secular perspective or from a faith background other than Christian. I believe in common grace — the idea that God sprinkles truth and beauty everywhere — and therefore I don’t have any problems with learning from secular or other religious resources.
On the other hand, there’s something else, a kind of refreshment, in finding other Christians who are interested in this side of the parenting spectrum. Through Loving Earth Mama, I discovered first Pearl in Oyster, then Dulce de Leche, then various others through their links. Here’s a beginning list of some Christian resources:
Pearl in Oyster
Dulce de Leche
Dare to Disciple
Gentle Christian Mothers
GOYB Parenting
One of the things I am thinking about lately is obedience, respect, habit formation, and the like — in other words, I don’t intend to be a permissive parent who has no boundaries, sets no limits, shrugs, and lets the kid get away with murder if she doesn’t feel like changing course when I politely ask her to, please. But I am quite sure I don’t want to go about obedience training in a punitive way, or in a way that is disrespectful, unrealistic, unhelpful, ineffective for the long term, unkind, not appropriate for Amy’s maturity / age / stage of life.
I am thinking about things like cleaning up, getting ready, or otherwise taking responsibility; and not *always* throwing or being rude as a first response to frustration or disappointment. I am thinking about where I might need to step in and act more, to help, to participate, to prepare, to prevent.
January 19, 2012
Charlotte Mason Volume I Part I.V-VI Hindering, and the brain
V. Hindering the Children
Charlotte Mason talks in this section about ways parents unintentionally hinder their kids’ natural relationship with God. She mentions the story of Jesus saying “Let the little children come to me,” pointing out that his statement suggests that without outside interference, kids naturally come to him. I wonder if he meant that about all kids, and not just the kids that got to see him in the flesh.
Hindrances include such things as much talk about the threat of God not loving the child when he’s naughty or sending the child to hell; long boring thoughtless prayers; careless talk about spiritual things and holy words; not enough talk of “how God does love and cherish the little children all day long, and fill their hours with delight”; and the parental life not showing how much more important God is than the world (20).
VI. Conditions of Healthy Brain-Activity
Okay, I confess, parts of this section made me laugh incredulously. Oh my. Well, let us suppose that Charlotte Mason was speaking outside of her area of expertise in those parts.
Since mental activity involves the use of the brain, the health of the brain must be cared for.
It should exercise, as the rest of the body does, but with “daily habit of appropriate moral and mental work” and “regular and sustained efforts of thought or will” (21). Because the brain does not sit idle, without these things it will work in its own way, producing eccentricity. Since “wholesome mental effort, like moral, must be carried on under the discipline of rules,” children must do intellectual, moral, volitional work — to understand, “to do and to bear,” to do right even when it’s a sacrifice” (21-22).
What? What rules? And is eccentricity altogether such a bad thing? What happened to “masterly inactivity”? The idea of mental exercise is a good one — the more you think, the better you get at it — but the rest seems contrived and weirdly artificial. It makes me picture rows of children performing some kind of mental calisthenics with furrowed brows.
Next, Mason talks about the need for rest. First there’s timing — strenuous mental work is not best done right after a meal or right before bed. Lessons should be timed for when the brain is most fresh, if possible. Then there’s variety — working on one thing for a long time can get tiring, and a change in subject or type of work can be refreshing. My teacher dad used to say that you tend to remember the first and last things you study, so that studying is most effective when you take lots of good short breaks. And pressing on when your mind isn’t working well is counter-productive, even in the face of a deadline or other pressure.
Then there’s food, which should be “nutritious and easy of digestion” and varied — regular meals not spaced too far apart. Sensible, right? But then read this:
“Everybody knows that children should not eat pastry, or pork, or fried meats, or cheese, or rich, highly-flavoured food of any description; that pepper, mustard, and vinegar, sauces and spices, should be forbidden, with new bread, rich cakes, and jams, like plum or gooseberry, in which the leathery coat of the fruit is preserved; that milk, or milk and water, and that not too warm, or cocoa, is the best drink for children, and that they should be trained not to drink until they have finished eating; that fresh fruit at breakfast is invaluable; that, as serving the same end, oatmeal porridge with treacle, and the fat of toasted bacon, are valuable breakfast foods; and that a glass of water, also, taken the last thing at night, and the first thing in the morning, is useful in promoting those regular habits on which much of the comfort of life depends” (26).
Giggle — regular habits — POOP! Seriously, though, what’s wrong with cheese? Or seasoning? or…
But she goes on — pleasant talk at meals, as opposed to dull silence or too much excitement, promotes good digestion. And of course pleasant meals are opportunities for manners and moral training as well as for family connection. And making a thoughtful effort to provide meals that are both healthful AND enjoyable is not going to lead to food obsession; it’s the kids who don’t get enough to eat who obsess, not the ones who get to eat what they enjoy. (Tell that to my candy and carbs fanatic; I don’t forbid them, but any limit is unwelcome to her.)
Now after all this talk about nourishing the blood with food, we move on to air. With many words, Mason makes the point that it is best to breathe plenty of fresh air, which means avoiding inadequately ventilated indoor spaces with fires burning and people breathing, and being outside as much as possible, not just for an hour’s walk each day. Besides, in the early years, children learn more effectively by exploring, especially in nature, instead of through lessons and words.
There should also be a lot of sun and light in general, indoors and out, and kids should have plenty of opportunity to sweat, which is one of the ways the body eliminates wastes. She talks about clothes and bedcovers needing to breathe, and argues that woolens are better than cotton and linen; I bet she would be appalled by polyester and the like.
Mason closes this section with what sounds like a nod to Maslov and his hierarchy of needs: “Intellectual, moral, even spiritual life and progress depend greatly upon physical conditions.”
January 18, 2012
Mamatography Week 3
Another week of pictures for Mamatography.
Mark got a can of crabmeat in his stocking. It became quiche last Wednesday, with bacon and cheddar and romano cheeses. Mmmm. Used a brown butter crust.
I’ve been crocheting produce bags for a month or so… mindless and easy, slow and tedious… and sometimes on such projects one gets a little punchy.
I didn’t really expect her to agree to my suggestion that she shovel the driveway. She did the porch and one whole swathe from garage to road.
She asked to play in the sink. And later, she got to use a sponge to clean up the mirror, counter, and floor.
There’s a thread on Ravelry where people post pictures of the ugliest things they’ve knitted or crocheted, and I finally got around to taking a picture of this, my first sweater, in all its mostly-acrylic-with-bits-of-mohair glory — simultaneously bulky and oddly flat, too warm, too tight under the arms, and absolutely shapeless. It feels and looks so ridiculous on, that I was surprised how little its ludicrosity shows in the picture.
I used to have one of these Tomy Tuneyville Choo Choo trains. It runs around in a circle playing records by some kind of whistle. I really wanted one for Amy when she was little, but on Ebay they run from around $50 to $150 depending on condition and what all it comes with. So, even though Amy is five now, when I saw this one in a bag with two other baby toys at the thrift store for $5, I bought it on impulse. It was in a sealed bag, and I didn’t really even try to look closely at it. Turns out it doesn’t work, even with batteries in it, and even though Mark managed to take it apart, he couldn’t find anything to fix inside. Fortunately, there is YouTube to hear what it sounds like, and Amy likes it even without the music and movement.
Aaaand last night I knitted a tiny hat and a tiny sock for the phonetic works in Amy’s Montessori class, but my camera batteries died; PhotoBooth couldn’t seem to get anymore focused and clear than this.
Marcy on Mamatography Week 7
gaurisunshine on Mamatography Week 7
Kat @ Loving {Almost… on Mamatography Week 7