Category Archives: life
To be honest, I don’t know where to begin.
Life is good.
That seems as good a place as any.
We are blessed in so many ways. I am blessed with a wide eyed, smiley babe who warms my heart and smells ever so sweetly, a fiercely brilliant little boy who doesn’t miss a beat or a chance to make us laugh, and an intensely loving, super adaptable, whip smart little girl who will turn 5 next month. I am blessed to be madly in love with a bearded husband who is ever-present and, after 10+ years, still makes me weak in the knees. We are blessed with a warm home in the country, freezers and cupboards full to overflowing with food, warm duvets, hot coffee and tea, wonderful friends and family, perfect health, good benefits, a great job, chortling chickens, playful and ever tolerant pets, good books lining our shelves, and a toasty woodstove to and dry our clothes and roast marshmallows by.
And yet, I seem to be suffering some sort of social media induced soul-fever. An overwhelming brain fog. It isn’t postpartum depression/anxiety. The fog and fever was far worse when I was pregnant than it is now.
You see, I feel it is brought on by spending too much time online. I love Pinterest, I do. It is like crack for this creative, visually driven girl. I don’t buy magazines for the pretty pictures anymore because I know I can find it all and more on Pinterest. It is loaded with inspiration and ideas and homeschooling resources. Hell, it was stumbling on this pin that inspired me to actually write this very post! But I find myself constantly comparing our humble little cabin to the perfect homes I see online and forget to be happy with what we have. Facebook connects me to the people I miss as well as to the people I’ve never even met in the real world. I am grateful for all the people, kind advice, and heated debates I have acquired and participated in via Facebook, but I can’t deny that it also gives me a false sense of a social life. Both of these sites have their merits, but they also fill my brain with anxiety-inducing posts and pins about the dangers of wearing deodorant or bras at night or hot dogs, and radiation making its way across the sea and land, and house fires, and car seat fails, and kidnappings, and missing children, and how TV rots your brain, and vaccine fear mongering, and conspiracy theories, and allergies, and other people being stellar parents, and crafts we will never do, and 4 year olds reading, and perfectly pretty houses and paint colours, and luscious hair, and thinspiration, and clean eating, and too good to be true recipes, and really funny memes, and how to organize and clean, and be more productive and yell less.
And then there are the pictures and videos we take and post. Though I love having a record of the daily and monumental events, it seems kind of pointless when you weren’t fully present in the original moment, no? Louis CK says it better than I ever could. This became very apparent to me when Poppy had her ears pierced a couple of months ago. Like an idiot, I was trying to capture the video (for Mike who was at work and unable to be present) and was still fumbling with the phone while my mom swooped in to comfort her after the deed was done. It should have been me.
All this to say, I am not quite sure how to find the balance. I don’t blog much anymore because the world is full of bloggers saying so much of the same and I honestly don’t know that I have much more to bring to the table. I would be lying if I said I weren’t struggling with the feelings of isolation since moving to the country. I miss being able to walk downtown with children in strollers and strapped to my chest in order to get some social interaction and window shopping in. The trails are too deep for little ones to navigate for any length of time and the highway we live on is not suitable for afternoon meanderings. The days are so very long when we are left without a car. That is the only thing we would change about our move to the country, but it is financially out of the question for now.
Social media fits conveniently into a day with 3 children under 5. 10 minutes here between snack
demands requests, bum wiping, clean ups, homeschooling, and meals. 30 minutes there while the baby nurses and falls asleep on me. Homschooling consists mostly of free play mixed with 15 minute stints of writing our letters, drawing pictures, reading books, and using the iPad. To be honest, the days feel long and aimless for me. Though it is a perfect pace for young children, I crave productivity and structure for myself. I read books and attempt to crochet, and rearrange furniture but my mind wanders and my attention is pulled away. My days are fragmented. So the pace of the internet fits my day, but it also drains me. My mind feels an awful lot like our living room; disheveled and lacking focus.
We recently listened to an interesting Freakonomics podcast about parenting. The conclusion was that obsessive, over-scheduled parenting (that seems very much the norm on social media) is pointless and the best thing we can do for our children is to be happy and kind. Makes sense, no?! Seriously, I want to tattoo those words on my forehead. We don’t do too many activities or crafts with a set outcome because it inevitably makes feelings of inadequacy, frustration, and impatience bubble up in me. I am driven by the outcome while the kids are in the moment and it rarely ends well. I know my kids are far better off with a basket full of crayons, paper, scissors and glue to use at their own discretion than any Pinterest craft and a results-driven mama. We do extracurricular activities because they’re enjoyable and provide the social interaction we crave and need. The path of least resistance and genuine inspiration really is the best and happiest path with these tender ages.
I have no answers. Perhaps it is a little bit of precisely this type of mourning mixed with a wicked case of Pinterestitis and social media fever. Whatever it is I find myself aching for depth and joy and inner work; a lonely run, and finding my breath and pose on a yoga mat, and scrawling my messy handwriting across pages of a forgotten journal; belly laughs and company who stay late into the night, and window shopping; boundaries and limits and wild things.
We’ve become quick masters of self editing. I find myself wishing I could remember what it felt like to just be…(Once again, Louis CK nails it) . To be alone with ourselves and our thoughts without comparison, input or labels.
I shall leave you with this as I ponder my next step. (source unknown)
I would have to say that our first official day of homeschool was a great success. Mike took the day off in advance as we wanted to do something special to kick it off. As it turned out, our local homeschool group began organizing a field trip to a local farm for a little tour and pizza lunch. It sounded perfect.
Though this is the year that Poppy would be starting kindergarten, it sort of felt like Silas’ first day as well. And the beauty of homeschooling is that he will be just as involved as he is ready to be. The morning was a perfectly cool and overcast. They donned their new-ish clothes and mostly empty backpacks for their traditional first day of school pictures as Mike and I pondered just how grown up they are both looking these days.
Then we were off to meet the other families at Magnificent Hill Farm. We were happy to see a large gathering of both familiar and new faces there. We started with a tour of the grounds and gardens which included, veggies, fruits, mushrooms, bees, rabbits, frogs, and turtle eggs. We then crossed the road and picked apples for the goats and cows and visited the chickens, geese and pigs. We captured a “class” photo in front of the sign and moved to the outdoor kitchen for tea, coffee, and juice while the kids headed into the gardens to harvest fresh food for the meal.
They made the best tasting pizzas in their outdoor kitchen and pizza oven as we all wondered why on Earth we didn’t also have an outdoor pizza oven. The kids played, rolled, chased, laughed, asked questions, helped, and gobbled their fair share of pizza while the parents chatted about their plans for the year.
We were happy to see our kids, full of confidence, as they moved to the front to get a better view of things, play with the kids, and taste the things they were offered from the garden. It warmed my heart when Poppy found a dandelion and made sure to find Silas to share it with. They really do love each other wildly and it makes me so glad to know they will be together on this journey.
I won’t lie, when the day started, Poppy was determined that she would be going on a yellow school bus and to regular school (her only experience with school in The Magic School Bus), but on the car ride home she decided that our car and homeschool was her preference.
The next day, we traveled to meet with the surgeon who will be doing my c-section and we found out that our little family will officially grow to 5 on September 26th. Despite the nearly two hour wait, the kids played with the toys and each other happily the entire time and the receptionist commented on just how wonderful they were to be so patient.
This morning, it seemed fitting to focus on the letter A as we headed out in the early morning to pick apples. Our kitchen is scented with apples and cinnamon as they dry in the dehydrator, stew on the stove for applesauce, and beg me to make an apple crisp.
Yes. Our wee little homeschool smells mighty divine today.
This feels right and good.
go gently + be wonderful
On Sunday we celebrated the day, three years ago, that this wickedly handsome, crazy smart, fiercely intense, wildly imaginative, first class snuggler of a little boy joined our family.
The day before the four of us went to the movies for some popcorn, Planes and lunch out. The day of was a simple one with two sets of grandparents, a mama-made Very Hungry Caterpillar cake, temporary tattoos, and a Spiderman backpack filled with the superheros he loves so much.
Oh, these pictures and milestones that keep reminding us of just how those long days turn into short years.
And Motherhood breaks my heart once again.
go gently + be wonderful
Perhaps it is because we miss having a garden (some may even call it guilt for not putting in a garden). Or it could be that it appears to be a bumper year for all the things that grow. Or perhaps still, it is the most delightful warm Autumnal weather we’ve been experiencing since the deadly July heatwave. Whatever the reason, we find ourselves pulled into the woods and trails in search of berries this summer more than ever.
Of course, we made batch upon batch of tasty apple butter in our first summer here, but the jars that weren’t eaten right away went bad. There were a number of things we could have done wrong. We could have tightened the rings too much, I am quite certain I heated the lids more than once, I washed the jars, but didn’t sterilize them, and lastly, I didn’t “process” them in a boiling bath after sealing. We will do it differently this year with the help of Ashley English’s book (in fact, her whole Homemade Living Series is a wonderful resource) and some diligence.
In June we picked and froze 15 quarts of organic strawberries from Ellenberger Organic Farm and made a wonderfully large jar of garlic scape pesto from the large bag of scapes they graced us with. I made it just like a basil pesto and we ate it over pasta with tomatoes. With the leftover scapes, I blended them in the food processor with olive oil and froze them in ice cube trays for cooking throughout the year. It made about 35 cubes.
We own about 4 acres, but are surrounded by about 80 more which is owned by a lovely couple who only camp here a few time per year. I have fond memories of picking the abundant blueberries while we visited Mike’s home of Newfoundland, so we were quite excited to find a couple handfuls along the shore of the pond a week or two ago. They were no comparison to Newfoundland’s berries, but it was a bit like finding treasure.
We have both pin cherries and choke cherries here as well, but this is the first year they have produced like this. Chokecherries don’t taste like much when eaten off the branch and the seed apparently contains cyanide, but when made into a jelly, they remind me of childhood and fall. We were able to pick 3 quarts from the two small bushes behind the house and made 12 125 ml jars plus a pint. We went by the book this time and they all sealed successfully. We have plenty more on the property so another batch or two may be in order. I think they will make nice Christmas gifts this year.
While picking the chokecherries we noticed crazy amounts of blackberries (or what we assume are blackberries) growing fairly low to the ground on what we assume to be young bushes. We are a little unsure now as we found two types while we foraged for our dessert yesterday afternoon. In abundance, we found the smaller berries low to the ground, but then we happened upon some larger/taller bushes with the more characteristic shape and size of blackberries. Both taste similar, and both types came off with the rasp inside (unlike a black or red raspberry where the rasp is left on the bush). No matter how you slice it, they tasted decadent, still slightly warm, atop our Kawartha Daily french vanilla ice cream. The kids were in their glory despite the mosquitoes and scratchy bracken that was often taller than them. Berry loving Poppy was especially happy to pick to her heart’s content which she quietly did while Silas made sticks into swords, put rocks in his basket, and saved himself the tedious task of picking the berries himself and thieved from mama and daddy’s baskets. We covered a lot of ground and spent over an hour for only a quart and a half, but it was fun and we figure we’ll be going out each night for our dessert until they dry up.
The apples look a bit small, but oh so abundant and just beginning to blush. We’ve purchased a clamping apple peeler, corer, and slicer in preparation for our apple-filled fall.
So though we may not have a garden this year, and though we’ve only made it to one farmer’s market this season, we are still enjoying the fruits of the season and we’re ever so grateful that so much of it has been found in our own backyard.
go gently + be wonderful
It is hard for me to believe, but after four and a half years of talking about it, the day quickly approaches; the day we officially start our homeschooling adventure. Of course, like most people (whether they realize it or not) we have been homeschooling since the beginning, but call me old fashioned because September 3rd, 2013 marks the official beginning for me.
Today, I share our some our reasons, goals, and personal educational history on So Fawned’s series entitled the First Days of School in which she has gathered other bloggers interested in sharing their stories and decisions which brought them to where they are in their own schooling and parenting journeys. It should be fascinating.
I hope you enjoy my contribution and well as the other wonderful people who have and will share.
go gently + be wonderful
We had a lovely weekend.
The heat broke with a downpour on Friday and it was a glorious relief. We could not have survived it without the fans, ice packs wrapped in tea towels tucked into shirts at bedtime and the beach. It has left me pining for Fall.
On Saturday we went to a local heritage day where they had all sorts of crafts people demonstrating their talents. The kids dressed up as a fairy princess and a pirate for the occasion. There were farm animals and wild animals, BBQ lunch, rock painting, a bee hive, potters, spinners, weavers, trappers, antique cars, letterpress, and face painting. The face painting was free and there was a 2 hour wait, but once Poppy saw this, there was no talking about anything else. Poppy chose to be painted like a flower fairy while Silas wanted to be Spiderman, but, at the very last minute decided he’d rather be a puppy dog.
We came home and sat outside where the bugs were almost nonexistent and the breeze beautiful. Everything seemed do-able. We talked about the third baby’s arrival and plans for the upcoming weekends while the kids stripped down and played in the sand and water. We then decided to take a little walk up to the beloved apple tree to see how big they are getting and also to hunt for wild raspberries. We only found a few berries, but the apple tree is drunk and heavy with apples this year. We must think of a way to preserve them so we can enjoy them throughout the winter months (We are thinking freezing, drying, and canning are our best bets). We also discovered the cherry trees produced millions of tiny ruby berries this year. That is the first time since moving here that we have seen berries there. Just not sure what to do with them and would like to know for sure if they are edible.
On Sunday, we worked while the kids donned their costumes once again and played happily. We did laundry, cleaned the car, emptied and re-organized the sheds, re-attatched the porch railing, and did a general tidy up of the outside. The last bit of wood was piled last weekend, but the grass may never recover from all the sawdust that is impossible to pick up now. We worked until late in the afternoon and ate granola bars for supper. My back and hips are still aching from all the bending and lifting.
I miss not having a garden this year. We had planned to visit the Farmer’s Markets each and every weekend, but it never seems to happen. I find myself craving a meal of green beans, chopped tomatoes with salt and pepper, and new potatoes with butter and salt. I hope to make it to the one in Haliburton tomorrow after my midwife appointment for sure.
go gently + be wonderful
27 weeks 5 days.
The third trimester always seems to bring with it a special kind of emotional tidal wave. I spend the day counting down to the day I won’t be full to overflowing with a baby, swollen, fat, puffy, charlie horsed, and varicose veined. I then lay awake at night worrying about the c-section, the hospital stay, the transition, the sleeping arrangements, the outings, the patience this will all require. Am I mom enough?!
It all sends me into a tailspin and then I hear an old song that reminds me of who I once was; what I had time for, and I cry. Big, heaping, noisy,wrenching cries that come all the way up from my toes. The cleansing kind that scares anyone who witnesses it, but oh! If they only knew how good it felt to cry and shake and feel every hurt leave my body. Then, as a thunderstorm washes away the humidity, I am ready to love and work again. But, just as this Ontario summer seems to go, the humidity- thunder cycle repeats itself without much reprieve.
I took the car on Sunday. Alone. I had hoped to get a haircut, but she was closed so I went to the drug store instead. I must have spent over an hour there looking at pink lipstick, moisturizers, and skin care products. I won’t lie, it was glorious. I haven’t worn much more than mascara for the past few years because I thought it would bring my skin back to a natural radiance, but the reality was that I just looked tired. So if some BB cream (I didn’t know that was even a thing, but I have been waiting my entire makeup life for it) and hot pink lip gloss (I am not yet, brave enough for the opaque stuff yet!) make me feel a little more like my old self, then so be it.
Being inside my head is exhausting. I miss being creative, but can’t seem to find a solution to the lacking. I love baking, but I also love eating and if I ever intend to feel right in my skin again, I need to strike a balance there. I enjoyed making jewelry, but it is an expensive hobby and I never really made any money at it anyway. I would love to get more paid writing gigs and even do some fun/creative content marketing, but,unfortunately, the Clever Girls Collective is not accepting Canadian members and I don’t know where to start. I enjoy sewing, knitting, and crocheting, but when I am pulled in a different direction every 5 minutes, I can’t focus on counting stitches or any sort of pattern with ease, never mind the cats and Silas running off with the balls of yarn and the dog chewing my needles. Sewing is a no go what with all that tempting fabric to rumple, toss, and use as capes. I like painting and it is something I can do with Poppy with minimal frustration, but I have no idea of even the most basic techniques, and despite nearly every woman I am closely related to being a naturally talented artist/painter, I am not sure that I got that gene. I’d love to take a pottery course again, but know in my heart of hearts that I won’t go in the evenings when I am ready to collapse. Also, once I start nursing, I won’t be going far anyway. This isn’t forever. One day the kids will play and read and imagine hours away quietly. But, I won’t lie, there are days I feel like my brain might turn to mush and run out of my ears from the boredom I feel.
Today, there is a cool breeze and, though the humidity is at 100%, the sun remains hidden. My sprouts are ready for eating. The Postal Service is playing an old song. I find myself thinking of Autumn (sacrilege, I know, but summer and I are on the outs this year). The wild roses by the gate have released the most intoxicating, unadulterated rosey scent I have ever enjoyed. The poppies (the ones I almost gave up on) in the front garden have exploded into life and I can’t help, but smiles back at their happy, papery faces.
And finally, I am so loved. Despite all my issues and frustrations and anger, and mad fluttering, and pregnant hot messiness, I am so loved and it makes me weep more tears of gratitude.
Hold me steady beloved anchor of mine for the wild bird in my rib cage will settle her wings again soon.
go gently + be wonderful
- all the tiny green apples on the apple trees
- the front garden I almost mowed down because I had lost faith is now full of black eyed susans, poppies, and even a peony
- kawartha dairy chocolate milk
- a new lawn mower with sharp blades and a powerful engine
- the horseradish and raspberry plants we transplanted are alive and well
- the raspberries we planted last year are throwing up new shoots and lots of promising berries…not to mention all the wild bushes we have
- the sweet train set and table I found on Kijiji for less than half the price for Silas’s big birthday gift
- copious amounts of organic garlic scape pesto and garlic scape/olive oil ice cubes for cooking
- the super powerful and clean food processor i found for $10 at the local junk shop
- 19 bags of yummy organic strawberries in our freezer
- dutch oven bread
- overcast days
- baby kicks, punches, rolls and tumbles.
- violets and pansies
- the deer flies are here, which means we are in the final stages of bug season…we hope.
- listening to the kids play together
- peeling an orange in one complete piece
- silas attempting to count everything he sees
- our wood is piled and ready for this winter
- a normal, healthy, uneventful pregnancy
- my new coffee mug
- daisies and black eyes susans in a mason jar
- a thoughtful gift and card from mike’s boss
- being rooster-free
- poppy’s thoughtfulness and kindness towards her unborn baby sister
- the baby name we have chosen
- our new car
- our new (to us) furniture (every home should have a recliner)
- waffle cones
- nail polish in fun colours
- a tidied laundry space
- a new place for the dog crate
- our good health
- glamour lake beach
- the fact that poppy prefers to pee outside and does so with gusto
- our outdoor clawfoot tub (one day it will be in our bathroom)
- the kids’ love of fruit
- my stand mixer
- mike’s job
- living in canada with our incredible healthcare and benefits
- watching our kids play with other kids and feeling good about the job we’re doing
- it’s thursday
Mike and I are grateful people. That said, we are also easily overwhelmed in moments of worry, stress, or exhaustion. We recently decided to react differently than normal when our old car refused to start. I felt the instant reaction of fear, frustration, and anger bubble up, but managed to work my way to the other side of it. I started by focusing on counting my blessings and then put into effect a no whining, no complaining policy for the day. After I posted that, I got the wine glasses out and we all clinked glasses full of non-alcoholic cider at 8:30 am to mark the occasion. It was a defining moment and I saw immediate benefits. Also, after nearly 24 hours of not starting, our car, rather randomly, started up and never gave us another problem.
Gratitude is something I would like to add to our days and so this is the beginning. I may not always share it here, but I would like to share it over our family meal, or in the darkness of our bedroom, or simply jot it down in a journal. Wherever and however I may do it, I feel it is imperative for me to practice daily gratitude.
So I will.
If you feel so inclined, please leave a link or share your own lists of gratitude in the comments.
go gently + be wonderful
This weekend was a good one. It was, after all, Canada’s birthday. Unfortunately, my camera was either at home or suffering a dead battery so we only managed pictures of Sunday at my dad and step mom’s farm, but I assure you it was good and full.
intensive clean-up + reorganization of our upstairs
buy one get one deals
Combermere Farmer’s Market on a damp and cool morning
a long wait for the best damn homemade donuts you’ll ever eat
a day spent at the cottage with my step dad, step sister and her wee family
sword fights, flower picking, fishing, bbq, bunnies jumping on a bed, grazing, matching jammies
two loaves of dutch oven bread
piling the last few bits of wood (the epic job of 2013!)
Poppy obsessed with riding Dad + Janet’s new horse Nutmeg (or “Meggie”, as she likes to call her)
Grampa practicing his lasso skills on willing grandkids
watering the animals
checking for eggs
naked tub fun
tractor…always the tractor
too tired to stop for fireworks…maybe next year
hulling strawberries while sipping our morning coffee
iron + wine
a new lawnmower (our neighbour repairs and sells them so we traded in the old one)
into town to meet friends for Canada Day celebrations
the anthem + feeling grateful for being born in the best country.
the petting zoo
free Kawartha Dairy ice cream
slowest free balloon service ever!
Waiting in line for food only for them to run out
toads+ coffee in the garden
a quick stop at Kawartha Dairy for chocolate milk + ice cream + waffle cones
that chocolate milk rocked my socks, wondering why I don’t drink it more often
feeling rather smug as we watched all the tourists making their way back to the city
homemade veggie pizza for supper
go gently + be wonderful
“Take or leave ‘attachment parenting’ as you wish but raising human infants is not supposed to be done in isolation by a single caregiver, and yet overwhelming levels of individualism combined with conservative gender roles have positioned us in exactly that place. In our suburbs there is no-one else in the room when a mother reaches the end of her tether – there is no-one left to negotiate with – it is just an adult and a baby, crying in each other’s faces, desperate.”
I read the above quote about a year ago and felt instantly understood; instantly heard. I have been seeing and reading a lot about anger and yelling in motherhood on Facebook and Pinterest lately. In the world of social networking, perhaps this is our way of breaking the silence and/or asking for help…or perhaps just starting a dialogue of support.
As this third pregnancy progresses into 24 weeks, I have the distinct feeling that shit just got real. All of this is really happening and though we know the love will be instant and true, with it being our third time around we know all the other stuff that comes along with it. The sleepless nights, the endless worry of sickness and injury, the guilt, the baby blues, the aching bleeding boobs, the baby weight that clings, the healing c-section wound, the adjustment period of jealousy and curiousity. Of course, in the end it will all be fine and dandy.
Earlier this week, I took the car and the kids for a full day (7:30 am until 5:00 pm) in town. I don’t know why I do this, but I am stubborn and sometimes the need to get out of the house wins out over wisdom. It was a gong show and as I chased a shrieking Silas through half the mall and halfway through a department store while dragging a giggling Poppy behind me I wondered 1) how I will ever leave the house without help again after baby #3 arrives and 2) Will we all survive this?!
I am not great at dealing with stress…or heat…or messes…or bugs…or not being listened to…or being pregnant…or lack of reason. Waaaaah! I know, poor muffin! Then why on earth would you sign up for the ultra intense gig of stay at home mothering in the country, dummy? The truth is, even after the most intense day, it still feels like the most natural and fulfilling thing I could ever want to do with my life. Most jobs are hard and tiring, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t right for us.
I have made my decision to stay home and to homeschool and I stand by it despite it being a struggle in almost every way. Blame it on the Ellenberger’s stubborn gene. That being said, I am also letting go of a few things I thought I never would. For example,
- I love a lot of the ideas (though not all) of Waldorf, but have come to the realization that I don’t see it as a perfect fit for us.
- I decided against buying the expensive Oak Meadow curriculum and went to Chapters where we picked up a large assortment of learning/teaching resources for the kids for much less money.
- I realized that we can be both homeschoolers and unschoolers because the days are long and varied and that is what sits best with us.
- I picked up some instant oatmeal for the kid’s breakfasts because they like it and because I don’t always want to make food they won’t eat or spend an hour making crepes or apple fritters each morning.
- I let them watch tv because sometimes I need the kitchen to myself as I make the meals.
- We have let go of the ideal vegetable garden with lovely raised beds, a solid fence and heirloom varieties this year. Instead we will plant mainly potatoes and a few basics that always do well. The bugs, the kids and the budget mixed with the fact that our harvests have been a bit disappointing since moving here and we are slightly disheartened all played heavily into that decision. Instead of paying out money for plants that would likely just turn into compost, I bought a Dutch Oven for 70% off so I could make more yummy Dutch Oven Bread.
Sometimes we romanticize the olden days and try to hold ourselves to that ideal, but forget life was also structured quite differently back then. Neighbours were your family and vise versa. There were often more generations living under one roof and they shared the work with each other. We are living in a very strange time in which technology and old time values are merging. We are inundated with blog posts and photos of picture perfect parenting/crafting/cooking/home decorating/partying/traveling moments and think we have to be doing something wrong because our kids/clothes/meals/homes/parties/etc sure as shit doesn’t feel or look like that. I am guilty of it too. I take pictures of the scrumdiddlyumptious, made from scratch chicken pot pie, but neglect to photograph the nights we eat Kraft Dinner or cereal and chips for supper. As much as I want rhythm in our house, it really is just perpetual motion peppered with guilt, frustration, giggles, apologies, tears, and heart wrenching love and affection until we all fall down again. I am coming to terms with the fact that that, in a nutshell, is what parenting feels like for everyone. We’re not doing it wrong, it just is what it is.
I know it isn’t ok to yell at my children or lose my temper because my expectations are too high for a 4 and 2 year old. It’s not them, it’s me. They are tiny and perfect and trust me completely, and yet I still yell. Why? Because I am always alone when I “…reach the end of my tether…”. And that isn’t about to change in any drastic way anytime soon. Our small extended families are quite spread out and busy with their own lives. All we can do is keep doing the best we can with what we’ve got while trying not to wish it was anything different (though we often do).
As I try to tame the Orange Rhino inside of me, I fully realize that anger is a part of life too. It is important to teach our children the big emotions and how to apologize when we’ve hurt someone. I don’t get angry when Silas tries to hit me or tells me he doesn’t like me. I feel nothing but empathy, I soften and tell him it is ok to be angry with me, I let him know that sometimes people get angry with each other, but it doesn’t mean we have to stop loving them. I also let him know it is not ok to hit. I see an instant and remarkable change in him when I say this. His face changes from anger and he always comes in for a hug. When I yell, I always seek them out and apologize within minutes of it happening. I tell them in the simplest way I can that I was frustrated or hurt or scared and that I never want to scare them. We hug and often cry on the floor together until it feels ok to get up and move on with our day.
It isn’t a perfect system by any means, but it is what we have right now. I hope that through it all, they feel the immense love, devotion, and respect I carry for each of them. I hope that they learn how to be gentle with others and themselves.
go gently + be wonderful