The Simple Life

We quit the TV recently here.  Now don't get all weird and defensive and think I did this because I'm taking some kind of philosophical stance.  Nope.  Not at all.  I don't think TV is the devil's business nor do I think any less of anyone who has chosen not to quit the TV.  I actually think it's a pretty brilliant babysitter and quite a source of comfort in many situations. And, to be honest, I haven't totally quit it myself.  Nor do I intend to.  I will still watch one show a week and I have granted the kids the same amount.  They can choose a show on the weekends. 

I don't parent based on philosophy.  I parent based on instinct.  I parent from a source deep within me called, 'the need to survive'.  Some of my decisions - even if they seem strategic - really are just attempts at maintaining sanity.  From breastfeeding to sleeping.  Feeding to schooling.  Nurturing to discipline.  I don't read the books, I just do it.  I remember being stretched out on the couch one day, with Luca nursing.  He was well past a year and a girlfriend asked when I intended to stop breastfeeding.  I explained that I would have to buy new bras when I quit, because I knew my well endowed state would shrivel, and that was an investment.  I explained that it would hurt, because allowing yourself to become engorged and then dry out is painful, and that would kind of suck.  And lastly?  I explained that I liked to sit down, and have an excuse to do so.  Because I was tired.  So I explained that I would quit when I felt I had some extra cash for new bras, some tolerance built up for a bit of pain, and a surge of energy was upon me because I wouldn't get the breaks to lay on the couch.  We laughed at how often our decisions aren't based on this ridiculous notion that we have all the answers, rather on the notion that, indeed, we have no answers at all.  So we do what our thumping hearts tell us to do. 

And the TV?  My heart just said, "Turn that damn thing off."  So we did.   The kids have been playing more creatively since we broke up with the BoobTube.  They have been engaged in the kinds of things I remember doing when I was a kid, like taking all of the kitchen supplies out of my drawers and setting up a veterinary clinic for all of the stuffed animals in the house.  (Why in God's name a vegetable shredder is needed at a vet appointment is beyond me but I was totally enthusiastic about it because it bought me more time to do my own thing.)  Don't go thinking we're crafting and singing camp songs over here.  We're not.  Well, on some days we can be found looking quite Rockwellian.  But on most days I'm practicing a form of healthy neglect and the kids are disemboweling a stray teddy bear to perform surgery with a pizza cutter or creating elaborate gymnastic stunts.  And quite frankly, that's the way I like it. 

A friend just called to see if I wanted to sign the kids up for a class.  We aren't too schedule oriented around here - maybe one a week.  Tops.  These days are numbered though.  There is all kinds of talk of soccer from Mia and swimming from Luca.  They want to dance and ice skate.  Ski and play tennis.  There are plenty of years ahead of us filled with business.  So, for now, I told my friend "No".  She began to ask why and I cut her off.  Because if I over schedule my kids, when will they make Lego boosters to put on the chairs at the kitchen table and then almost fall off of them, causing quite a stir when I think a trip to the ER is needed? (True story.)  If I over schedule them, when will they lay on my bed, with their feet dangling over the side, singing songs and planning their next move?  If we're gone too many afternoons a week, when will I have time to yell, "YOU'RE DRIVING ME CRAZY" and when will they have time to impress me with their puzzle skills?  When will I find them crouched near Mia's baby dolls, with both of them breastfeeding their entourage of plastic dolls covered in marker markings? 

The TV just began to feel like a class.  Like we were somehow over scheduled.  Burdened by this thing that certainly has value, certainly has a place....but just not here.  Not now. 

And I tapped into that place deep inside of me that has yet to fail me, my own voice.  The funny thing is, we were only watching one or two shows a day.  Not too much.  But even giving up that small amount has left me feeling free.  It's felt empowering to listen to that little tiny sound from within my belly and to recognize that as my gut, my instinct. 

It's left me wondering what else I can purge, what else I can simplify.  Not because I'm jumping on some bandwagon or listening to someone tell me how to live my life, but because I know that for me - for my own family - the simpler, the better.

Presidents Day

Mia had her first real assignment in school the other day.  Sure, she has homework....fun letter i.d. worksheets and number activities.  Creative small assignments that call for crayons and markers.  But this one?  This was the real deal.  The kids were studying the Presidents because of Presidents Day and each child was assigned a President.  Mia's president: George Bush.  Not W.  But his elder. 

I read her assignment and smiled.  We were to talk about the president and then Mia was expected to draw a picture and tell the class one fact about the leader she studied. 

Mia created a lovely drawing (the tie is my favorite part) and chose three facts to share.   She told me she stood in front of the class and announced that George has a wife named Barbara.  And his helper's name was Dan.  She said she forgot his last name but remembered it was the same name as a bird (Quail).  She also told the kids that  he played baseball in college.  And that her daddy likes baseball too. 

I put her picture on the table the night before it was due, and her lunch money because she had wanted to order hot lunch that day.  We had reviewed her facts the night before she was to present and she told me she wasn't nervous at all.  This is preschool folks; I am under no delusion that her performance is any indicator of her academic future.  But I know that this is where it all begins.  That these years are all about planting seeds.  Creating patterns.  Cultivating the values of learning.  V and I hinge everything we are on the fact that we are life long learners.  Our belief in education is unparalleled. 

When I tucked her in that night I noticed V had checked out a book on presidents at the library for the sake of the assignment and it was open on Mia's bookshelf.  It made me marvel at the kind of guy V is....the guy who would take his five year old by hand into the public library to search out more information about presidents for her school project.  And the kind of guy who would take that same book and read it himself over breakfast, remarking on an interesting tidbit here and there.  Despite being an educator, I know that true learning comes from home.  The most powerful examples are under your roof.  There is no more profound learning than taking little ones by the hand to embark on education together. 

New Addition

Announcement:  New set of toes to tickle.  Our dear friends just had their second teeny tiny bundle and everyone around here is all abuzz about the addition.

The girls are in heaven now that they have a small girl to train.  There is lots of cooing and cuddling as of now but I'm foreseeing bigger things in this trio's future. 

Don't count Luca out.  He loves "Libia" (Olivia) too.  The kids had just eaten chocolate ice cream pre photo shoot.  New baby plus dessert.  Doesn't get much better than that. 

We love having Livi around to snuggle with. 

SKi Weekend

We had a great weekend in Frisco! Thank you E and L for hosting us! Mia and I skied while Luca and V hit "Critterland", a play area for our littlest snow kids who are too young to ski. The weather was gorgeous and the snow was great. Mia is becoming such a good little skier! So brave! Our first lift ride up we sat next to another mom and her teenage daughter. The mother and I chatted and she said, "You'll be chasing her down the hill before you know it. It seems they'll stay small forever, doesn't it?" Her daughter twirled her thick braid and rolled her eyes at us, lovingly but with teenage disdain for sentiment. I smiled down at Mia and felt this profound sense of connection. With Mia. With this woman. With myself. I felt the sun on my face and didn't really want the day to end. We skied all day, only taking one quick break and then met our boys, tired from hours of tubing. We finished it up eating chili and drinking wine with our friends while the kids acted like monkeys tearing through the condo. You know when you crash hard from a long day? Love that feeling.

Valentine's Day

Be good to your loved ones today.  Do something small to make them feel special.  Appreciated.  Loved.  I saw this card yesterday as I was at the grocery store.  I was crouched down, with a fruit tray balanced on my knee and some odds and ends piled by my side.  I didn't grab a basket as I went in because I only needed that fruit tray for Mia's preschool party.  You know the drill though.  You're in there and suddenly you remember you need miso paste and chapstick.  A yellow onion and some bananas.  Omega 3s and some crackers.  As I had my items awkwardly tucked into my coat pocket and balanced on my fruit tray, I passed the cards.  I was running late; I needed to get Luca from his school and then run to Mia's.  All in about 9 minutes.  But I stopped.  Because I needed something for V.  All of the cards expressed ease and joy.  They expressed such beautiful sentiments of warmth and troubless roads.  But then I saw this one and snatched it up quickly because it said just what I wanted it to say.  While life is full of tenderness and magic, it's also full of logistics and a lot of planning.  It's full of kids and work.  Family and friends.  Duties and responsibilities.  I managed to get up to the counter with all of my things and felt renewed, like I had just been reminded of my vows.  Through thick and thin.  Through good times and bad.  I had been reminded that this life I have is mine because of a certain guy that I was lucky enough to find 13 years ago. 

You have my hand V.  I love you!

Luca's Art Wall

Luca creates a new piece of art every Monday when he goes to school.  We hang his pieces on his wall and rotate them out when new ones come home.  He lovingly puts all of the older works in a box in his closet.  I have a phobia of too much stuff, so that box makes me nervous, with its contents seemingly growing by the hour.  But I'm all about promoting art and preserving self so I figure, that box is staying put.  I wandered into his room today and looked around, knowing that one day, he'll have music posters tacked up (decent music please) and photos of friends.  His sweet art will be long gone.  I grabbed my camera and took photos of his art.  The tree.  The gingerbread man.  The painted dog and the grapes.  Mia tracked me down as I worked.  "What are you doing?" she asked.  "I'm making memories."  Despite the fact that the box in his closet exists now, as he ages - and I do too - it will probably get lost.  Or, truth be told, thrown away in a moment of reflection about "stuff" not being important.  While it isn't important, this stage in Luca's life is.  And I want to honor that. 

Luca couldn't sleep one night and wound up on his dresser trying to pull down one of his pieces of art.  The black lamb with the cotton ball coat of wool. He managed to pull off the cotton and then came to me - through the dark hall to my side of the bed- with the cotton loosely wadded in his fist.  "Mama" he said, "My art.  The lamb's hair is coming off."  I totally understood.  I got out of bed and glued the cotton back on the lamb.  I pictured him back in bed gazing up at the art wall.  Knowing that his work looked just the way he had wanted it to look.  And falling to sleep peacefully. 

While kids might be little, still working on their fine motor skills, their creations are deliberate.  They are small visionaries. 

I'll miss this art wall someday. 

Personalize your own free picture collage

The porches Where I Land

I gave a dear friend the collection of poetry, She walks in Beauty, as a birthday gift.  It's such a beautiful book - the poems and the mere cover alone.  She sent a thank you  message to me and included a poem she had flipped to before falling asleep last night.  It's titled "Girlfriends", which are such a source of comfort and love for me.  My lady friends really truly make my life so much brighter.  They really are, often, the porch on which I land at the end of the day.  The poem is worth sharing. 

Girlfriends by Ellen Dore Watson

First and last, mirrors

whose secrets we keep in a home-made petric dish (sometimes they give us ideas)

I mean the ones who say the unwelcome when it matters

whose kids watch us for clues

whose kids we watch for clues

Not the ones who decide there was too much too true

of them in our eyes, and ran,

but the ones who'll be around to see us bald or one-breasted

and we them

who'll know to say what can't be said (with their skin)

whose bodies, spreading or starved, we love

whose husbands (or lack of) it's okay to disapprove, or almost covet

whose girlfriends are ours by proxy

who share these assumptions and would their last

Godiva, valium, amulet

The lifers

who, even seven states away, are the porches

where we land

Mid Week Ski Day

Pretty great ditch day.  My girl and I went skiing.  Electric blue sky.  Clear and crisp.  Almost solitude on the mountain as no one else really thought to take a mid week mental health day. 

Our good friend teaches snow boarding and joined Mia for a run.  He snapped this photo of the two of them on the lift.  I didn't bring my camer and my Flip video camera proved to be out of juice once I got on the mountain.  I so wished I had it.  Watching Mia make her turns and wiggle her way onto the chair lift so competently and confidently was a sight to behold. 

Total bliss as Mia cut through the trees and screamed behind her, "Follow me Mom!"  We stopped for sweet treats at our favorite candy shop in Georgetown on the way home and ate candy necklaces and sang along to some tunes.  The car smelled like sweat and ski gear dripping dry in the back seat.  A smell that I just love, and I certainly can't explain why. 

I might just need another ditch day next week.

Tiny Meg

One of my favorite photos from my childhood. That's my dog's head in the forefront.  Rags.  A poodle mix.  My sister scanned it in and sent it to my e-mail today and when I opened the message, my heart kind of skipped.  Me.  Just a teeny tiny version.  Scraggly haired, wide eyed, dog huggin' kid.  Some things just don't change all that much.

Snow Town

Snow day 2012.  17 inches over two days.  Pretty cool for the little people.  We knew the storm was coming so we ran to the store the night before it hit to make sure we had our rations.  My list: espresso and wine.  The kids list: fruit chewies and any sweet treat I would grudgingly put in the cart knowing that it IS kind of a special occasion - being snowed in.  I am a woman of will power.  I always pride myself on being able to divvy up treats and show great restraint in consumption.  Snow me in though for more than 12 hours and I go from being a lean mean warrior to a bloated shut in (albeit forced due to weather) wondering where all the brownies went.

Mia, our neighbor, and Bij.  Luca was napping.  Snow forts.  Snow men.  Snow angels.  I have to say, it was pretty fun out there!

Mia ran in to grab a carrot for her snowman with pink cheeks and wet hair from making all of those snow angels.  The house looked like a ski shop exploded after the kids traipsed back in leaving boots, gloves, hats and scarves in their wake.  I actually didn't even mind the clean up.  Gave me something to do on a day when all we had was time. 

Fruit pancakes for dinner.  I put my chefs to work. 

"The Loving Happy Book".  I would so buy this if it were in print, based on the title alone.  Mia found lots of time to be crafty on this snow day and came upstairs to show me her latest text.  The pages are currently empty, apparently the title alone wiped her out.  Nice work little Meeza.  Can't wait to read it!