I think we have success with the toilet training. I think Colin is the last of the boys his age to get there, but here we are at last. With absolutely no interest in interrupting his playtime at our house, my mother actually began things at her house. A new setting and a new toilet were just enough of a change to get Colin interested. From there I got him excited about his new "Tigger and Pooh" underwear. And from there it just came naturally. After two days of my incessant: "do you have to go pee?" and being met each time by an annoyed stare, Colin simply learned what it felt like to need to go to the bathroom. Two accidents (while I was distracted) and then that was it!
I have been dreading toilet training, but now that it's over, it really wasn't that bad at all.
Saturday, 28 February 2009
Friday, 27 February 2009
Rites of Passage
Rites of passage, or celebrating a time when your child passes into adulthood, has been a part of the fabric of cultures of societies that span ages and places. And yet, what markers do we have in today's society of this important event? You become a woman or a man when you get your driver's license, when you reach drinking age, or the first time you have sex. I think essays and books and dissertations could be written on what a culture's rites of passage say about the morality and important issues of a people.
I heard a radio broadcast this morning on creating spiritual rites of passage in your Christian life. Somewhat similar to the Jewish Bar/Bat Mitzvah, this event focuses on letting your child know that you as parent are moving from spiritual teacher to coach, and that the child must now start taking responsibility for their own spiritual welfare. As this 'passing of the torch' takes place spiritually, I think the child will also start to feel responsible for the other areas in their life also (physical, educational, financial, etc.)
Our church has a few rites of passage in place: baptism at the age of eight, receiving the priesthood at age 12 and 16 (for boys), the young women's program at age 12 and the joining the Relief Society at age 18 (for girls). Any of these, or another age/time chosen by the parents, could be used to highlight the passage into adulthood. But I think it takes a special effort and focus for the parents to really make the best use of these rites of passage, to really prepare their child for what is coming.
The guests on the radio show talked about the rite they created for their children, which occurred around the age of 15. As parents they decided on six spiritual values they felt were important to cultivate (for example: prayer, service, friendshipping, etc.) They spoke about these areas with their child, and then asked him/her to choose one mentor for each area. They then asked that mentor to spend some time over the course of a week with the child, sharing their stories and speaking specifically about that area of faith. After the six weeks (one week for each value), an event was organized (a lunch, a dinner, a football game and barbecue) to which the mentors were invited. Each mentor spoke briefly about their experience with the child. Then the parents spoke a prayer or blessing over their child, preparing the child for his/her own spiritual journey. Lastly the child had a chance to express his or her feelings about the process.
What a beautiful idea. The most profound thought left on my heart was that if you never create an experience like this, where there is a vivid marker that your child is now moving into their own responsibility, then the child simply floats from year to year never really making a specific effort to 'grow up'. How evident this is today with children living at home well into adulthood, never really gaining their own independence and often failing to thrive in the world. My kids are so small now, but these years will zip by. Without my own thoughts and plans, I would be party to the complacent passage of time, never really acknowledging their need for independence from me. I'm grateful for training like this that will help me in my journey of motherhood.
I heard a radio broadcast this morning on creating spiritual rites of passage in your Christian life. Somewhat similar to the Jewish Bar/Bat Mitzvah, this event focuses on letting your child know that you as parent are moving from spiritual teacher to coach, and that the child must now start taking responsibility for their own spiritual welfare. As this 'passing of the torch' takes place spiritually, I think the child will also start to feel responsible for the other areas in their life also (physical, educational, financial, etc.)
Our church has a few rites of passage in place: baptism at the age of eight, receiving the priesthood at age 12 and 16 (for boys), the young women's program at age 12 and the joining the Relief Society at age 18 (for girls). Any of these, or another age/time chosen by the parents, could be used to highlight the passage into adulthood. But I think it takes a special effort and focus for the parents to really make the best use of these rites of passage, to really prepare their child for what is coming.
The guests on the radio show talked about the rite they created for their children, which occurred around the age of 15. As parents they decided on six spiritual values they felt were important to cultivate (for example: prayer, service, friendshipping, etc.) They spoke about these areas with their child, and then asked him/her to choose one mentor for each area. They then asked that mentor to spend some time over the course of a week with the child, sharing their stories and speaking specifically about that area of faith. After the six weeks (one week for each value), an event was organized (a lunch, a dinner, a football game and barbecue) to which the mentors were invited. Each mentor spoke briefly about their experience with the child. Then the parents spoke a prayer or blessing over their child, preparing the child for his/her own spiritual journey. Lastly the child had a chance to express his or her feelings about the process.
What a beautiful idea. The most profound thought left on my heart was that if you never create an experience like this, where there is a vivid marker that your child is now moving into their own responsibility, then the child simply floats from year to year never really making a specific effort to 'grow up'. How evident this is today with children living at home well into adulthood, never really gaining their own independence and often failing to thrive in the world. My kids are so small now, but these years will zip by. Without my own thoughts and plans, I would be party to the complacent passage of time, never really acknowledging their need for independence from me. I'm grateful for training like this that will help me in my journey of motherhood.
Thursday, 26 February 2009
Guard your heart
I am a private person, but am learning to share. I don't believe there is anything wrong about the tendency to guard your heart and emotions close. Not every friendship requires you to lay yourself out exposed. But in the past year or so I have had opportunities to learn what it is like to share openly about joys and sorrows, triumphs and trials. I have felt what it is to have someone pray for me and a specific need. I have experienced what it is to hear clarity in my words aloud that have been swimming in dense fog in my mind. I have been relieved of anxiousness and felt peace by simply sharing.
A good friend and I were speaking the other day, very openly on the subject of pregnancy. I lamented how hard it had been to have to tell people about a miscarriage, but that it is too hard for me to conceal a pregnancy until 3 months because of how ill I get. Her reply taught me a wonderful principle in friendship. She said that she shares the joy of pregnancy right away, because if she ever did experience the loss of miscarriage, she would want to share that also.
This caused me to think over the 'accepted waiting period.' What other joy in life do we conceal for so long? A success in the workplace, a treasured compliment, newfound friends and family - we eagerly spread our good news abroad as soon as it comes into our hot little hands. And yet we force ourselves to wait 3 months to share about pregnancy, in case something goes wrong.
Yes, waiting may eliminate the need for have to tell others about a miscarriage. But we cannot have joy without sorrow. And we cannot have deep friendships without sharing deep pieces of ourselves. I don't see vulnerability in opening up - I see the strength I can gain on the shoulders of friends. I don't see the pain in sharing heartache - but I do recognize the loneliness of solitude. So although guarding one's heart from negative and evil influences is always necessary, I am seeing the wisdom in my friend's idea of opening one's heart to greater friendships in this world. Heaven knows we all need friendship in our lives.
A good friend and I were speaking the other day, very openly on the subject of pregnancy. I lamented how hard it had been to have to tell people about a miscarriage, but that it is too hard for me to conceal a pregnancy until 3 months because of how ill I get. Her reply taught me a wonderful principle in friendship. She said that she shares the joy of pregnancy right away, because if she ever did experience the loss of miscarriage, she would want to share that also.
This caused me to think over the 'accepted waiting period.' What other joy in life do we conceal for so long? A success in the workplace, a treasured compliment, newfound friends and family - we eagerly spread our good news abroad as soon as it comes into our hot little hands. And yet we force ourselves to wait 3 months to share about pregnancy, in case something goes wrong.
Yes, waiting may eliminate the need for have to tell others about a miscarriage. But we cannot have joy without sorrow. And we cannot have deep friendships without sharing deep pieces of ourselves. I don't see vulnerability in opening up - I see the strength I can gain on the shoulders of friends. I don't see the pain in sharing heartache - but I do recognize the loneliness of solitude. So although guarding one's heart from negative and evil influences is always necessary, I am seeing the wisdom in my friend's idea of opening one's heart to greater friendships in this world. Heaven knows we all need friendship in our lives.
For the Love of Literature
I am taking great pleasure in relaxing each afternoon with C. S. Lewis. This letter style of book is revealing. Each page is like watching this man's life unfold before my very eyes. Year by year I am seeing him grow, seeing his views and opinions, likes and dislikes altered by years and experience. I am also getting a brilliant education on the great works of literature. Spending his teen years being privately tutored (he hated formal schools) and also having a natural love of literature means that his letters are filled with the latest work he is reading. It is evident that his entire education was based around simply reading. There is much to learn about a people, a moment in history, a language, a geography, by reading the works of literature it produced.
The growth is gradual and ofttimes, for pages on end, too minuscule to notice. But then I reflect on the overall change over the past year of his life and see that indeed he is being shaped and molded bit by bit. I can also glean as much from what isn't there, written in his letters, as what is. He felt much of the everyday things were necessary but pedantic, and not worth the attention on page. Much more revealing, Lewis thought, was how one is affected by the art around him - poetry, drawing, music. He had little use for politics, and even though he resided in England through the Great War, has written little about it to this point (the end of 1916). Lewis also writes about his own literary creations and failings, and includes critiques of his best friend's works also. The cavalier mention of names like "the Brontes" and honest (brutal) critiques of contemporary "masterpieces" shows thoughtful and shameless opinions.
While the daunting collected works of letters of C. S. Lewis (over 3000 pages all told) may not pique your interest, I certainly recommend reading someone's published letters. (I know there exists one for Jane Goodall, which began rather delightfully.) See if there isn't a book of letters of a favourite author or person of interest. It illuminates so many aspects of his or her works by watching that person formed before your eyes. It also provides a few good laughs as art imitates life.
(Listening to "The Screwtape Letters" this morning, the forward explains that the compiler, Lewis, "made no attempt to try to re-order the letters according to dates. Some of the letters seem obviously out of order, but the compiler himself sees no use in dating letters at all, preferring to order letters in a more organic fashion." I chuckled at that, because just the other day I read in one of C.S. Lewis' own letters the very same point of view on dating letters, conceding only to do so at the request of his friend.)
In the end, even if I wasn't finding a friend in this man who lived a century ago, I am simply excited to see such a complete and concise list of great literature pieces to delve into, with someone's personal thoughts on many of them also. I am provoked to find friends with who I can discuss the books and music I ramble through. I am inspired as an artist again, with imaginations in poetry and prose and music and art and creation bubbling up inside.
The growth is gradual and ofttimes, for pages on end, too minuscule to notice. But then I reflect on the overall change over the past year of his life and see that indeed he is being shaped and molded bit by bit. I can also glean as much from what isn't there, written in his letters, as what is. He felt much of the everyday things were necessary but pedantic, and not worth the attention on page. Much more revealing, Lewis thought, was how one is affected by the art around him - poetry, drawing, music. He had little use for politics, and even though he resided in England through the Great War, has written little about it to this point (the end of 1916). Lewis also writes about his own literary creations and failings, and includes critiques of his best friend's works also. The cavalier mention of names like "the Brontes" and honest (brutal) critiques of contemporary "masterpieces" shows thoughtful and shameless opinions.
While the daunting collected works of letters of C. S. Lewis (over 3000 pages all told) may not pique your interest, I certainly recommend reading someone's published letters. (I know there exists one for Jane Goodall, which began rather delightfully.) See if there isn't a book of letters of a favourite author or person of interest. It illuminates so many aspects of his or her works by watching that person formed before your eyes. It also provides a few good laughs as art imitates life.
(Listening to "The Screwtape Letters" this morning, the forward explains that the compiler, Lewis, "made no attempt to try to re-order the letters according to dates. Some of the letters seem obviously out of order, but the compiler himself sees no use in dating letters at all, preferring to order letters in a more organic fashion." I chuckled at that, because just the other day I read in one of C.S. Lewis' own letters the very same point of view on dating letters, conceding only to do so at the request of his friend.)
In the end, even if I wasn't finding a friend in this man who lived a century ago, I am simply excited to see such a complete and concise list of great literature pieces to delve into, with someone's personal thoughts on many of them also. I am provoked to find friends with who I can discuss the books and music I ramble through. I am inspired as an artist again, with imaginations in poetry and prose and music and art and creation bubbling up inside.
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
Guilt-Free: Breakfast
I love waffles. They are definitely my favourite breakfast food. And how easy is it to pop some frozen waffles into the toaster and voila!
And yet I know how terrible those things are for me. And honestly, they never taste as great as homemade waffles. But there are just so many ingredients and it takes so much more time and effort to make them from scratch.
So I came up with a compromise that actually works pretty well for us. We do make pancakes/waffles every week or two. We have a recipe that makes batter you can use for either pancakes or waffles, so it's just as easy to pour the batter in a pan or in the waffle maker (which you can buy for less than $20 these days). We make a double batch and freeze the leftovers.
Just like that - frozen waffles with the goodness of whole ingredients and without the padded junk from the store-bought variety. Love it!
Recipe:
1 1/2 cups flour
2 tbsp sugar
1/4 tsp salt
1 tbsp baking powder
1 1/2 cups milk
1/2 tsp vanilla
1 egg
3 tbsp oil/melted butter
Mix dry and wet ingredients separately. Make a well in the centre of the dry ingredients and add wet mixture. Stir with wooden spoon until combined (may still have lumps).
Drop by 1/4 cup (or so) into a frying pan (med heat) for pancakes, or into a waffle iron for waffles.
This basic recipe allows for much free play - add chocolate chips, cinnamon, or any other favourite ingredient to change things up.
And yet I know how terrible those things are for me. And honestly, they never taste as great as homemade waffles. But there are just so many ingredients and it takes so much more time and effort to make them from scratch.
So I came up with a compromise that actually works pretty well for us. We do make pancakes/waffles every week or two. We have a recipe that makes batter you can use for either pancakes or waffles, so it's just as easy to pour the batter in a pan or in the waffle maker (which you can buy for less than $20 these days). We make a double batch and freeze the leftovers.
Just like that - frozen waffles with the goodness of whole ingredients and without the padded junk from the store-bought variety. Love it!
Recipe:
1 1/2 cups flour
2 tbsp sugar
1/4 tsp salt
1 tbsp baking powder
1 1/2 cups milk
1/2 tsp vanilla
1 egg
3 tbsp oil/melted butter
Mix dry and wet ingredients separately. Make a well in the centre of the dry ingredients and add wet mixture. Stir with wooden spoon until combined (may still have lumps).
Drop by 1/4 cup (or so) into a frying pan (med heat) for pancakes, or into a waffle iron for waffles.
This basic recipe allows for much free play - add chocolate chips, cinnamon, or any other favourite ingredient to change things up.
Monday, 23 February 2009
I have fallen in love with the lyrical verses of "Wynken, Blynken, and Nod." Because I haven't yet been able to expand my memorized repertoire of poetry, I often recite this gem at least twice a day while trying to coax Caleb into a dreamy slumber.
For those of you who have never heard the entire piece, or just to jog a distant memory in others, here are the words that carry me off into a land of imagination and inspiration:
***
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod
by Eugene Field
For those of you who have never heard the entire piece, or just to jog a distant memory in others, here are the words that carry me off into a land of imagination and inspiration:
***
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod
by Eugene Field
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe---
Sailed on a river of crystal light,
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we!"
Said Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
That lived in that beautiful sea---
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish---
Never afeard are we";
So cried the stars to the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam---
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home;
'T was all so pretty a sail it seemed
As if it could not be,
And some folks thought 't was a dream they 'd dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea---
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one's trundle-bed.
So shut your eyes while mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock in the misty sea,
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
(Argh) Cleaning
I am a tidier. It drives me up the wall if there are toys and clothing and random items strewn across my floors. I like the pillows on the couch and the blankets folded. I like the bed made and the towels picked up. I can't stand a pile of dishes. I have to clean off the counter before starting to cook.
I am not a cleaner. I know there have been expanses of time that have lapsed without the vacuum making an appearance. I have lost the duster too many times to count. Thank goodness I use the bathroom so often so that I see the grime and get to that semi-regularly.
I married a cleaner (James) and so there is a bit of a silver lining. I tidy every day, but when James is going to clean, he really gets down to it. Roll up the sleeves, don the rubber gloves, bring out all our (natural) cleaning solutions and scrub till the place shines.
But I know I need to be better at this. Our company keeps James so busy he doesn't have the time to do his clean fests, and so it lies with me. Probably that's where it should lie, since I am the one at home. (But I often remind myself that a toddler and a preschooler are my primary responsibilities right now, so I don't get too hard on myself).
One of my goals was to establish a cleaning schedule. This is about the only way I could guarantee that each cleaning job that needed to be performed actually got done on a regular basis. Relying on my memory turns into: "Uh, I think I vacuumed last week...maybe..." My original plan was to spread it out through the week - a different chore each day so as not to feel overwhelmed. But last month, on a Monday morning after sending Colin off to preschool, I took stock of my surroundings and found an utter disaster zone from the weekend. So I rolled up my sleeves and went to work.
I tackled one room at a time, tidying and sweeping and dusting and vacuuming and scrubbing. I worked for the morning until Colin came home again - about 2 hours of solid work time (with a toddler in tow). And then it was done!
So my new schedule involves just this: Monday morning cleaning. I'm much more productive (and feel as though much more has been accomplished) when I go at things all at once. Who knows in the future how things may change, but I love feeling ready for the week like this.
(PLEASE no surprise visits on Sunday, however, because I cannot vouch for the home after a week of the hurricane that is my children!)
I am not a cleaner. I know there have been expanses of time that have lapsed without the vacuum making an appearance. I have lost the duster too many times to count. Thank goodness I use the bathroom so often so that I see the grime and get to that semi-regularly.
I married a cleaner (James) and so there is a bit of a silver lining. I tidy every day, but when James is going to clean, he really gets down to it. Roll up the sleeves, don the rubber gloves, bring out all our (natural) cleaning solutions and scrub till the place shines.
But I know I need to be better at this. Our company keeps James so busy he doesn't have the time to do his clean fests, and so it lies with me. Probably that's where it should lie, since I am the one at home. (But I often remind myself that a toddler and a preschooler are my primary responsibilities right now, so I don't get too hard on myself).
One of my goals was to establish a cleaning schedule. This is about the only way I could guarantee that each cleaning job that needed to be performed actually got done on a regular basis. Relying on my memory turns into: "Uh, I think I vacuumed last week...maybe..." My original plan was to spread it out through the week - a different chore each day so as not to feel overwhelmed. But last month, on a Monday morning after sending Colin off to preschool, I took stock of my surroundings and found an utter disaster zone from the weekend. So I rolled up my sleeves and went to work.
I tackled one room at a time, tidying and sweeping and dusting and vacuuming and scrubbing. I worked for the morning until Colin came home again - about 2 hours of solid work time (with a toddler in tow). And then it was done!
So my new schedule involves just this: Monday morning cleaning. I'm much more productive (and feel as though much more has been accomplished) when I go at things all at once. Who knows in the future how things may change, but I love feeling ready for the week like this.
(PLEASE no surprise visits on Sunday, however, because I cannot vouch for the home after a week of the hurricane that is my children!)
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