elephant

We went through a big change almost two years ago now, which I haven't really known how to talk about here. But I miss blogging, and the big change made me feel like I couldn't blog here. It was the elephant in the blog or in my mind.

The big change is that my kids are in public school. Eldest started going part-time in February 2015 and continues. I was just too overwhelmed and I wasn't being the kind of homeschooling parent I needed to be, and I thought that having him out of the house most days would help. I'm not sure it helped, but it hasn't hurt. Then we discovered an amazing kindergarten teacher at the school, with a Reggio-inspired approach, so we sent Youngest there full-time for JK and this year for SK. Eldest spends two days a week at the outdoor school and the rest at public school, now in grade 5. I struggle with the public system, as does he, but we are muddling through.

The next big change was a year later, last February. I realized we needed more money and the job I ended up finding was a full-time 12-month contract quite similar to my old job. I would definitely prefer part-time work but that is no easy thing to find. So just like that I'm leading a life I had kinda wanted to leave behind.

When my kids started back into the public system, I found myself with a bit of a social media dilemma. I had some time ago identified myself as an unschooling parent on most of my profiles because I thought it would help explain my perspective on a lot of the stuff I was sharing.  But when my kids went into public school, I was no longer unschooling. But I was the same person with the same thoughts and perspective on school, it's just that I wasn't able to carry it out. At this point, I'm simply not able to live according to my values. So that sucks pretty big for an idealist like me.

I also had shingles in April 2015 and ever since then I've been struggling with fatigue and exhaustion. I'll go a couple of days feeling reasonably well and hopeful the difficulty is behind me, then I feel flu-ey and exhausted for a couple of days or weeks. Now that I'm working full-time, that means pretty much everything else has been squeezed out. I'm not sewing much, I'm not parenting as well as I'd like, although full-time work has allowed me to call on some wonderful professionals to help fill in some of the gaps (although sadly finding after-school childcare has been almost impossible so I'm having to juggle my hours a lot for that). And we are mostly eating really, really poorly. Luckily, just before I started working, my husband got a new job with less than half the previous commute so he's able to be home on time to do most of the cooking during the week, when he has the energy.

So that all means I haven't felt like I have a lot to offer this space, which was meant to be all about making stuff and growing stuff and cooking good food from scratch. But I am still the same critical thinker, and I still have stuff to write about, so I'm just going to start sharing that stuff here. Expect lots of feminism and some fat activism and perhaps some trauma-based stuff, because we've been dealing with that in our family.

{moments}

It's been an intense several weeks. Lots of changes and stress and although the stress is mostly past, I'm still waiting for some sense of space, of opening up. I hope it comes soon.

But here are a few moments that made me happy in recent weeks.

solstice

I’ve been wanting to celebrate winter solstice for years now. But every year it seems to sneak up on me and suddenly it’s the day and I’ve given no thought to what, specifically, I want to do. Last year we ate dinner by candlelight but I wanted something more intentional.

This year, we are lucky to have people in our lives who already celebrate solstice. We were invited to two different solstice parties weeks ahead of time, so the day didn’t sneak up on me. However, last week I realized we had a major conflict. My dad’s side of the family, which has been prevented from getting together at Christmas for the last several years by bad weather, was having its annual gathering a couple of hours away from our home; for once the forecast was totally clear, so we had to go. Eldest, who had made arrangements with the host of one of the solstice parties to light the solstice fire, was disappointed when we discovered the conflict.

As we were preparing to head off, though, I thought about where we were going. My uncle lives in the country with ponds and woods behind his house. Surely he would have an outdoor firepit and we could at least light a fire, even if it was short. And we did.

It took much longer to light (Eldest hadn’t brought enough milkweed fluff and we didn’t have a good bridge from the milkweed to the kindling at first, so we had to forage a bit), and by the time we had a fire going, it was dark. The timing turned out more perfectly than we could have planned. So we enjoyed the fire in the dark for an hour or so before dinner was ready and then we feasted indoors.

It was lovely. I would have liked to burn a paper with my wishes or intentions for the next year, but it was lovely as it was.

So this just happened

I've just come home from the farmer's market. My husband and I have been going there every Saturday morning pretty much since we met in 1999. Over those fifteen years, we've watched people's kids grow up, and people have watched our kids grow in my belly like a strange watermelon, arrive outside, and grow up to the active and curious eight and three-year-olds, respectively. The last few weeks I've noticed a new crop of watermelons and pumpkins bulging under women's shirts. It could be a great way to steal something big and round like that.

 I used to whine that we have no community, because we don't really have the kinds of friends you go away with for fun weekends or who you can call when you need help suddenly. But I've been realizing that we do have community. Not great friends, but maybe that is partly the stage of life we're at with our young children. But we go to the market and say hi to the people we see every week. Eldest buys his own breakfast sandwich from the in-house vendor, and conducts his own transactions. I know he's safe there.

Other ways I see community have been at our community garden, where on work days they let Eldest push full wheelbarrows (that's one of his favourite jobs) and they truly appreciate his contribution. Or at our CSA pick-up, where Eldest unloads the truck with a dolly and does at least as much work as me to set up and take it down as part of our work share. And again, the people who run it honour his contribution. This is it. This is the stuff.

But today my hands are shaky and my eyes are hot and there is a deep, terrified ache in my chest. My three-year-old and I went to buy the tortilla chips we buy every week as a treat. He ran ahead and I was a bit concerned because he can move among the crowd much faster than me, but I kept seeing his bright orange shirt and I figured he'd stop at the chips. But he didn't. He ran right past them and kept running. I called out that he'd ran past them but he was too far ahead to hear.

Then suddenly I couldn't see him anymore. He had to be in the building, right? But there was a wide open door right next to where I'd last seen him, which opened to the sidewalk of a very busy street, and another wide open door on the other side of the building that led to the parking lot with more vendors and then anywhere. My mind couldn't go there. Of course he wouldn't go outside. I looked out anyways but didn't see his little orange shirt anywhere.

I started yelling his name and a woman near me, a vendor, heard me and started looking. When I started describing him, she said, “Oh I know your son!” like I didn't even need to describe him. Even though I don't think I've ever bought anything from her. She started looking too.

I went outside... maybe he could have gone there after all. I called but I couldn't see him. Went back inside and thought I needed to get my husband looking too, but he was all the way at the other end of the building and I couldn't leave the spot I'd last seen Youngest. I'd left my phone at home so I couldn't even text him.

I yelled louder, to anyone who might listen and help. “Ive lost my three-year-old! He's got a bright orange shirt on and brown curly hair!” And then a friend of mine was in front of me. “He's outside, I think. I just saw him.” And she took me outside and he was around the corner a bit just sitting on a bench on the sidewalk. He looked totally calm. My friend said she had noticed him but hadn't recognized him without me there. She had wondered who he was with though. And when she heard me say I'd lost him, she knew immediately.

I would never have looked there, I'm sure. The only way I found him was because someone knew him. That's the stuff.

As for me, I'm sure I'll recover eventually, although mothering this kid seems to just keep traumatizing me again and again. But that's a whole other story.

good news

Youngest has been going to the paediatric dentist every three months for the last year. We haven't been very successful in implementing our plans to help his tooth decay, but we have been steadfast in giving him the zinc and halibut liver oil our dietician prescribed to heal his gut. It so happens that the vitamins and minerals that heal the gut also heal tooth decay.

In February the dentist said she felt she needed to try drilling and filling, and we were going to try it without putting him under but we chickened out at the last minute. I was worried about him freaking out, and once you start you have to finish. Anyways, the dentist was fine with waiting and continuing to monitor. She said as long as he wasn't experiencing pain, it was ok to leave it, but if it abscessed we'd have to act.

Today he had another check-up. He was so confident he just ran into the exam room and sat himself down on the seat. (Normally he wants to sit on my lap.) He smiled wide and opened his mouth up and did everything he needed to with a smile. The dentist said she was surprised his teeth were still holding up and she wanted to extend the visit dates out to five months apart rather than the three months we'd been working on up to now. I'm considering this a win!

Radical Acceptance

It had been ages since I had last visited a thrift store when we went last Thursday. I didn't end up getting much, but one book pretty much jumped off the shelf at me.

About a month ago, we went and looked at a couple of potential homesteads in a part of the province we would consider moving to. It was a little bit dire, what's available in our price range. The whole experience caused my to question the whole concept, and I came back to town with a renewed appreciation for all the wonderful people and things in Guelph. I began to wonder, how much energy should I put into engineering my life to be a certain way and how much should I put into living the life I have, right now? I suspect better results may come from leaning towards the latter.

Anyways, this is the Big Question I've been pondering for the last few weeks. And that book's title, Radical Acceptance, really spoke to me, especially in the low moment that brought me to the thrift store. So I bought it. And it's good. 100 pages in, here are some of the passages I want to remember and ponder.

"The rest of the world is merely a backdrop as we struggle to get somewhere, to be a better person, to accomplish, to avoid making mistakes. As in a dream, we take our stories to be the truth -- a compelling reality -- and they consume most of our attention. While we eat lunch or drive home from work, while we talk to our partners or read to our chidden at night, we continue to replay our worries and plans. Inherent in the trance is the belief that no matter how hard we try, we are always, in some way, falling short." p.6

"Our imperfect parents had imperfect parents of their own. Fears, insecurities and desires get passed along for generations. Parents want to see t heir offspring make it in ways that are important to them. Or they want their children to be special, which in our competitive culture means more intelligent, accomplished and attractive than other people. They see their children through filters of fear (they might not get into a good college and be successful) and filters of desire (will they reflect well on us?)." p.14

"…creating an enemy imparts a sense of control -- we feel superior, we feel right, we believe we are doing something about the problem. Directing anger at an enemy temporarily reduces our feelings of fear and vulnerability." p.18

The author tells the story of Mohini, a tiger who was kept in a small, concrete-floored enclosure of a zoo for many years. All she did was pace back and forth on a 12-foot-long path. Eventually, her keepers created a proper habitat, with acres of grass, trees and a pond. But when they let her into it, she just found a dark corner and paced a 12-foot-path back and forth, until the area was worn free of grass.

"Perhaps the biggest tragedy in our lives is that freedom is possible, yet we can pass our years trapped in the same old patterns. Entangled in the trance of unworthiness, we grow accustomed to caging ourselves in with self-judgment and anxiety, with restlessness and dissatisfaction. […] we grow incapable of accessing the freedom and peace that are our birthright. We may want to love other people without holding back, to feel authentic, to breathe in the beauty around us, to dance and sing. Yet each day we listen to inner voices that keep our life small. Even if we were to win millions of dollars in the lottery or marry the perfect person, as long as we feel not good enough, we won't be able to enjoy the possibilities before us." p.25

"As happens in any addiction, the behaviours we use to keep us from pain only fuel our suffering. Not only do our escape strategies amplify the feeling that something is wrong with us, they stop us from attending to the very parts of ourselves that most need our attention to heal." p.57

She also includes some really great quotes. "Last night, as I was sleeping, I dreamt -- marvellous error! -- that I had a beehive here inside my heart. And the golden bees were making white combs and sweet honey from my old failures" ~ Antonio Machado, translated by Robert Bly

"The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change." 
Carl Rogers (who, incidentally, wrote a book called Freedom to Learn in 1969. I haven't read it yet, but my husband did, and I think Rogers influenced proponents of unschooling like John Holt and Peter Gray. My husband definitely recommends it.

This one really struck me. Hard.
"Poet Rainer Maria Rilke expresses a deep understanding of the dragons all of us face: 'How could we forget those ancient myths that stand at the beginning of all races -- the myths about dragons that at the last moment are transformed into princesses. Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are only princesses waiting for us to act, just once, with beautify and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.'"

some moments

I missed another Friday, but I've been enjoying so many wonderful moments lately, I don't know how I would have chosen anyways. So here is a selection. Life is pretty great, although busy and often overwhelming. With the gorgeous weather we've been enjoying (imho it doesn't get better than sunny and 25C with no humidity), I've been able to step back from the overwhelm and savour these days.
This year I have finally figured out that May is my absolute favourite month of the year. And with no rain for days, the fallen blossoms from our crabapples lasted so long.
(Our kitchen is currently under construction, so I got to barbecue pancakes, one at a time, last Sunday morning while snatching bits of Eleanor and Park - most enjoyable.)

this moment

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, dreamy moment I want to remember.

this moment

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, dreamy moment I want to remember.

moments

It's possible you may see me participating in the This Moment Friday photo meme, started by SouleMama years ago. This represents kind of a big turnaround for me.

For a long time I kind of rolled my eyes at the Moments. For one thing, my photography has always been about making pictures that are beautiful but not pretty. For another, I thought those moments were contributing to women --  mothers, in particular -- feeling inadequate if they didn't have pretty moments.  I thought they must be, if not lies, at least just a tiny moment's break in the chaos that didn't reflect the overall experience.

Now that I've read pretty much all of SouleMama's archive, I think she uses those moments in an aspirational way. Posting a photo of a nice moment is kind of a practice of mindfulness, a gesture of gratitude. I can get behind that. (Full disclosure: I'm actually pretty inspired by her - the unschooling, the small farm.)

Something big happened when I went back to work and my husband discovered all the joys of being at home with kids full-time. I discovered that life can actually be largely peaceful. Not because I'm away from my kids for eight hours a day (that part is the hardest) but because my husband is doing so much more around the house. Our housework load feels more equal.

I have a tendency to take things over, and when I was home full-time he had no space to figure out all the stuff I spent my days figuring out. It wasn't totally his fault and he has stepped up so admirably in the last nine months (has it really been nine months?!?).

Now, when we're getting ready to go somewhere, my husband just knows what to do to get the kids ready. Before, if I wanted his help to gather their shoes and coats and some bags for groceries and diapers and wipes and sunscreens and hats and snacks and drinks, etc. etc. I had to direct my husband on every single detail. Not we can both do some of that work and it's so much less hectic getting out the door (when there's two of us at least, mostly).

I have discovered how lovely life with kids can be when you have a fully engaged partner. Life is still a struggle and we still have lots of chaos, but so much less than before. Life just doesn't feel as hard as it did. (I should really let my husband comment here, since he now deals with so much more of that daily chaos than I do, but he's gone to bed.)

I have also been trying to practice gratitude, even in the struggles. And it's doing good things for me. So with those various changes, life doesn't feel so hard and there are so many more dreamy moments. And I want to capture some of them and share them. Because that's why we're doing all this… for the dreamy moments.

So you've been warned… don't be surprised if you see some Moments in this space.

weekend

What a nice weekend we had! I was a bit frazzled and stressed going into it, because I didn't feel properly prepared for Eldest's birthday, which was Friday. But I let some things go and I think Eldest felt well-loved by the end of it. He woke up Friday to his new present, a giant snow scoop (his favourite daily activity is shovelling snow and 'plowing' the roads in our backyard).

On Saturday his grandparents came and he got his favourite dinner: homemade macaroni and cheese. It's been so long since I made macaroni and cheese, I completely forgot how and couldn't find the original recipe, so I had to wing it. But he declared it delicious so that was nice. (Youngest and I didn't partake.) He also got to watch the Olympics AND a hockey game with Grandpa and Grandma and I just don't think life gets better than that.

Then today a party with eight of his friends and three of his grandparents, and some new playmobil and lego, and this is one happy boy. There was only the tiniest sliver of cake left (cake, which had overflowed its pans and is now burnt on the bottom of my oven, but was nevertheless delicious if misshapen and let's say rustically frosted.

I'm most pleased with myself for taking a slow pace through it all and not letting myself get stressed out. I did get a bit flustered when I couldn't find my usual recipe for chocolate frosting and the one I tried from the Internet was powdery for an alarmingly long time and my arm cramped trying to get it more frosting-like, but I just kept at it and it all came together.

Not only that, but Mount Foldmore is totally GONE! Nothing but a clean stretch of floor in its place. For now at least.

seeds

This time last year I'd been poring over online seed catalogues of local vegetable seed vendors for at least a couple weeks, in time to buy seeds at the Guelph Organic Conference. This year, I didn't even set foot at the conference. And I hadn't given any thought to what seeds I might like to buy. I bought too many seeds to plant last year, so I'm hoping they're still viable and I'll give them a go this year.

But I'm not too sure just how big into gardening I'll go this year. I'm interested in building some raised beds in a sunny patch I noticed last fall here at home, but that's a lot of work, and I'm just not sure we're really up for it. I plan to continue the plots I have at the community garden, for sure, but I don't know if I want to start seeds myself again indoors, or just buy seedlings. I'm tempted to plant berrying shrubs along the only side of our house that gets afternoon sun, where there are just huge, ornamental grasses. But from where I am right now, that just seems like all too much work.

Maybe this will be my year of letting go and sinking in to what comes. We know the direction we want to forge, but we don't know how long it will take for things to shake down, and for the moment things are pretty peaceful as they are.

It could be five years before leave this house, in which case I'd like to make the raised beds and plant the shrubs to get as much learning in as we can. But it's possible it could be this year or next, in which case I'd rather not be leaving so much sweat equity. So I don't know. Maybe I'll put less effort into plans and more into actually doing whatever makes sense in the moment.

 

This was about an hour or so before I went out to lock up the chickens last night. When I went out in the full dark, the sky was bright with clouds and the snow muffled everything. It was balmy after so many -25C days and I found myself wishing I had more chores to do outside or perhaps in a place where I could see beyond the solid fences of my neighbours. As it was, I went out front and shovelled the driveway. Thankfully, the nearby neighbour with the snow blower didn't come out until this morning, so I got just the peace and bit of useful activity I was looking for.

milestone

I've never been particularly nostalgic or melancholy when my kids reach milestones. I didn't even come close to crying when Eldest started kindergarten or walking or whatever. I find their growth exciting and I find I usually have to stop myself getting too far ahead of them, to what may come next.

But I'm feeling it today. Youngest is not a baby anymore. He still sleeps with us and nurses (especially overnight for the last week - sheesh!) but this morning he got up with Eldest and (by agreement we all made last night) they watched netflix and Eldest got snacks so my husband and I could both sleep in. What a luxury! 

Maybe my lack of nostalgia before now is really a symptom of just not seeing milestones, not seeing the doors closing on their past ways of being. But today I'm so aware that we're moving on to a new phase of parenting. Which is great and I've been looking forward to this and I feel a smidgen of relief even, to have made it here. 

But I'm also grieving a little that there will be no more babies in my arms -- not one of mine anyways. Ah well. I'm sure I'll get over it soon enough, and then I'll shake my head at the folly of even considering another baby.