If you are a parent, you must, absolutely must, check out this blog entry from Shawni Eyre Pothier at 71toes today,
I am inspired.
Shawni writes about and includes photographs from her father's old notebook. There are stories about their ancestors, where their last name came from. There are lists and goals by year and season. There are common threads that appear year after year. Now that is parenting with a purpose, with a vision. No wonder her father and mother wrote so many successful parenting books. The thoughts and ideas in this notebook flow so naturally I felt like I could see them bursting from his mind every step of the day.
I want to parent with more purpose.
I am an idea person, but I have trouble with follow-through. I start things with much gusto, but peter our quickly before getting to the end. I get things nearly done or good enough and then move on to something new. I know this thread runs through my parenting days also, and I want to lick the bad habit. I wish I could get my hands on a copy of that ancestor book, to be inspired by the different things on each page. I have a feeling, however, if I gave myself to more quiet reflection and journaling then perhaps I might access those creative and purposeful ideas in my own mind.
Nevertheless, I am inspired to start my own ancestor book.
Monday, 30 September 2013
Chocolate
I have given up chocolate.
This is the first time I've had to give up something while nursing. I realize that after 3 kids, I'm probably pretty lucky that this is it. I'm also lucky that it's "just chocolate." Yes, I realize how dire that can sound (even to me!) but I can't imagine trying to give up some of the other major culprits of nursing woes, like dairy.
I'm not one who craves sweet food or junk food normally. However, during these days of so very little sleep my body seems to be craving the energy chocolate provides to get me through. Juliette is still waking at least every 3 hours through the night, sometimes more often. I average about four hours of sleep a night, but that's not straight through - it's usually in 90 minute chunks. After 15 months of that, I'm probably as close to the walking dead as you can get. Hence the mid day craving of chocolate to get me through.
However, because I don't keep sweet or junk food in the house, I have been resorting to a handful of chocolate chips as a substitute. (I know there must be at least a few of you out there who have dipped into the chocolate chip jar out of desperation!) Last week, with Juliette's play-dough episode (there is wheat in play-dough - oops!) she was up every 45 minutes every night for 5 days straight. I think I nearly emptied my jar of chocolate chips.
As I came to the end of the week, I was lying in bed at night, stomach churning from the chocolate and it suddenly occurred to me: chocolate is part of the problem. I knew that the play-dough incident had run its course, and yet still Juliette was unsettled, mostly at night. I realized that through the night she was nursing more, and there was a good chance the the extra chocolate combined with the extra milk was making for an even more sore tummy for her.
Sigh. Goodbye, chocolate. I will miss you, but our parting is only temporary.
Thankfully it has not been as hard as I thought it might. The very evening of the first day I attended an event that had fruit and chocolate fondue as the refreshment. I piled my plate with strawberries and pineapple without even a second thought toward the lovely melting milk chocolate sitting by. The line on the chocolate chip jar has remained steady. I'm not tempted to toss in a chocolate bar in the grocery checkout line. I am grateful for being filled with a strength and resolve beyond my normal capacity to try and help Juliette. And hopefully, if chocolate is a culprit to her sleeping patterns, then we might actually both start sleeping through the night and I won't need a mid-day chocolate kick!
This is the first time I've had to give up something while nursing. I realize that after 3 kids, I'm probably pretty lucky that this is it. I'm also lucky that it's "just chocolate." Yes, I realize how dire that can sound (even to me!) but I can't imagine trying to give up some of the other major culprits of nursing woes, like dairy.
I'm not one who craves sweet food or junk food normally. However, during these days of so very little sleep my body seems to be craving the energy chocolate provides to get me through. Juliette is still waking at least every 3 hours through the night, sometimes more often. I average about four hours of sleep a night, but that's not straight through - it's usually in 90 minute chunks. After 15 months of that, I'm probably as close to the walking dead as you can get. Hence the mid day craving of chocolate to get me through.
However, because I don't keep sweet or junk food in the house, I have been resorting to a handful of chocolate chips as a substitute. (I know there must be at least a few of you out there who have dipped into the chocolate chip jar out of desperation!) Last week, with Juliette's play-dough episode (there is wheat in play-dough - oops!) she was up every 45 minutes every night for 5 days straight. I think I nearly emptied my jar of chocolate chips.
As I came to the end of the week, I was lying in bed at night, stomach churning from the chocolate and it suddenly occurred to me: chocolate is part of the problem. I knew that the play-dough incident had run its course, and yet still Juliette was unsettled, mostly at night. I realized that through the night she was nursing more, and there was a good chance the the extra chocolate combined with the extra milk was making for an even more sore tummy for her.
Sigh. Goodbye, chocolate. I will miss you, but our parting is only temporary.
Thankfully it has not been as hard as I thought it might. The very evening of the first day I attended an event that had fruit and chocolate fondue as the refreshment. I piled my plate with strawberries and pineapple without even a second thought toward the lovely melting milk chocolate sitting by. The line on the chocolate chip jar has remained steady. I'm not tempted to toss in a chocolate bar in the grocery checkout line. I am grateful for being filled with a strength and resolve beyond my normal capacity to try and help Juliette. And hopefully, if chocolate is a culprit to her sleeping patterns, then we might actually both start sleeping through the night and I won't need a mid-day chocolate kick!
Wednesday, 25 September 2013
The Big Picture
It is so important in life to keep the Big Picture in mind.
Sometimes we get caught up in the little things. We make them huge, monstrous, terrible things. They stress us out, keep us up at night, shorten our patience and tempers and grind at us every minute of every day. They might seem important, but when you look at the big picture, they really are insignificant after all.
Sometimes we get caught up in big things. Life throws us a curveball that knocks us down flat. The road we were travelling suddenly ends and we can't even see a fork in the road, just thick, heavy brush that is going to need a machete to cut a path. The task ahead is so daunting and scary that we freeze up. It might seem insurmountable, but when you look at the big picture, the days will pass and life will move on after all.
Sometimes we might get hit with something that really is tragic. These are the life and death matters, the illnesses or accidents that permanently alter our lives. These are events that really can't be worked through with determination or changed with a different perspective. These are times in our life when emotion takes control and in order to continue you must alter the way you looked at life. It might seem inconceivable, but when you look at the big picture, the terrible things fade into nothing and only the joys remain in memory.
I am learning that life is not a straight line. That might seem safest, but it is rarely the case anymore. But change is not failure. Each event in our life serves a purpose, and who we are at the end of our lives is the culmination of each of those events. I am not a filmmaker, but that doesn't mean 4 years of film school were a waste of time; that's where I met my husband. I was let go unexpectedly from my job in advertising just after I was married, but that doesn't mean I failed at my job; it's just that I was done spending time in that corner of life. I'm not teaching piano right now, but that doesn't mean I'm not an excellent piano player or that I don't love music. When life hiccups, you don't have to stand still, frozen, until something aligns in front of you.
I like the analogy that life is like those little wooden blocks that babies love to play with - you know, the ones with the painted letters and numbers on the sides? Each block is some area of your life, some person you know, some job, some stage, some hobby, and each one is added to the next, building a taller and taller tower. Some blocks are big, the ones that are always a part of your life. Some blocks are small, something that is in your life for but a short season. Some blocks are repetitive, things that come and go, but always seem to find their way back to you. Each of these blocks is an important part of the culmination of who you are. You can't wish any one of them away because the whole tower would topple.
So what do these musings me for me? I want to embrace life's changes. Whether it's moving houses, moving cities, moving countries, new jobs, new careers, new education, new friends, new family, new interests, new hobbies, new stages of life - be it exciting or scary or, more likely, a little of both, embrace it. Endings are just the start of new beginnings.
Sometimes we get caught up in the little things. We make them huge, monstrous, terrible things. They stress us out, keep us up at night, shorten our patience and tempers and grind at us every minute of every day. They might seem important, but when you look at the big picture, they really are insignificant after all.
Sometimes we get caught up in big things. Life throws us a curveball that knocks us down flat. The road we were travelling suddenly ends and we can't even see a fork in the road, just thick, heavy brush that is going to need a machete to cut a path. The task ahead is so daunting and scary that we freeze up. It might seem insurmountable, but when you look at the big picture, the days will pass and life will move on after all.
Sometimes we might get hit with something that really is tragic. These are the life and death matters, the illnesses or accidents that permanently alter our lives. These are events that really can't be worked through with determination or changed with a different perspective. These are times in our life when emotion takes control and in order to continue you must alter the way you looked at life. It might seem inconceivable, but when you look at the big picture, the terrible things fade into nothing and only the joys remain in memory.
I am learning that life is not a straight line. That might seem safest, but it is rarely the case anymore. But change is not failure. Each event in our life serves a purpose, and who we are at the end of our lives is the culmination of each of those events. I am not a filmmaker, but that doesn't mean 4 years of film school were a waste of time; that's where I met my husband. I was let go unexpectedly from my job in advertising just after I was married, but that doesn't mean I failed at my job; it's just that I was done spending time in that corner of life. I'm not teaching piano right now, but that doesn't mean I'm not an excellent piano player or that I don't love music. When life hiccups, you don't have to stand still, frozen, until something aligns in front of you.
I like the analogy that life is like those little wooden blocks that babies love to play with - you know, the ones with the painted letters and numbers on the sides? Each block is some area of your life, some person you know, some job, some stage, some hobby, and each one is added to the next, building a taller and taller tower. Some blocks are big, the ones that are always a part of your life. Some blocks are small, something that is in your life for but a short season. Some blocks are repetitive, things that come and go, but always seem to find their way back to you. Each of these blocks is an important part of the culmination of who you are. You can't wish any one of them away because the whole tower would topple.
So what do these musings me for me? I want to embrace life's changes. Whether it's moving houses, moving cities, moving countries, new jobs, new careers, new education, new friends, new family, new interests, new hobbies, new stages of life - be it exciting or scary or, more likely, a little of both, embrace it. Endings are just the start of new beginnings.
Monday, 23 September 2013
Soother woes
Out of four kids, we've had one who took a soother as a baby, one who never took one, and two who were totally, completely addicted to it. By the time Caleb entered junior kindergarten he was easy going enough that when daytime naps were eliminated, so was the soother. Up until that point I never fought it, because without the soother he didn't nap; with the soother he would sleep 3 hours in the afternoon. My plan had been the same with Benjamin.
However, Benjamin gave up naps about three weeks before school began. Sleep deprived from night nursing Juliette, I left him with the soother because every day I hoped he might nap again. Now I find myself one week into school for him, and he still uses the soother at night.
I tried a few different things. I tried telling him that as a big boy he didn't need it. I tried telling him we would throw them all away and go buy a special treat. I tried telling him we could gift them to a new baby (who, Ben insisted, would trade them for chocolate.) I had that last one all worked out. Benjamin chose a little baby, his friend's baby brother, and I bought little chocolate bars to trade, one for each soother (yes, we have a stash!) But no matter much we talked about it and agreed upon it during the day, come nighttime Benjamin was too emotional to remember the rational conversation from earlier in the day.
So I've let it go, for now. Sometimes using major life events are a great way to transition. Sometimes it's too much all at once. Benjamin is tired come dinner time, and although he doesn't nap after lunch, he still can't quite make it (pleasantly) all the way to bedtime. I plan to give him another month or so and see how he's doing, then maybe try again. Or not. The thing you realize this far into parenting is not to sweat the small stuff. And this, this is small stuff :)
However, Benjamin gave up naps about three weeks before school began. Sleep deprived from night nursing Juliette, I left him with the soother because every day I hoped he might nap again. Now I find myself one week into school for him, and he still uses the soother at night.
I tried a few different things. I tried telling him that as a big boy he didn't need it. I tried telling him we would throw them all away and go buy a special treat. I tried telling him we could gift them to a new baby (who, Ben insisted, would trade them for chocolate.) I had that last one all worked out. Benjamin chose a little baby, his friend's baby brother, and I bought little chocolate bars to trade, one for each soother (yes, we have a stash!) But no matter much we talked about it and agreed upon it during the day, come nighttime Benjamin was too emotional to remember the rational conversation from earlier in the day.
So I've let it go, for now. Sometimes using major life events are a great way to transition. Sometimes it's too much all at once. Benjamin is tired come dinner time, and although he doesn't nap after lunch, he still can't quite make it (pleasantly) all the way to bedtime. I plan to give him another month or so and see how he's doing, then maybe try again. Or not. The thing you realize this far into parenting is not to sweat the small stuff. And this, this is small stuff :)
Friday, 20 September 2013
Work, training, schooling
One of the cutest things the boys do right now is pretend to work where Daddy works. James owns and operates a small family business, a moving company that specializes in helping seniors move into retirement homes. It's a far cry from the film degree he earned in university, but he is a real life president of a real life company that is pretty successful. For the last 7 years he has put his nose to the grindstone and built it up into a thriving company.
So the boys love to play "Senior Moving." They pick furniture up and move it around the home. If I need something toted to the car, or in the backyard, they always come together and pick it up and chatter about how they are moving like they do in Daddy's company. James came up with a little jingle for the business a few years back, and the boys sing it as they go. Priceless.
They also talk about one day doing what Daddy does. There has been some talk lately about jobs, careers, and also university and schooling. What university did Daddy go to? Then comes the conversation about how although those four years taught Daddy a lot, they didn't have much to do with owning and operating a moving company. What university will we go to? Well, that depends on what you want to do.
I realized that while some professions and careers will always require higher education schooling, training, and certification (the medical profession, for example), I wonder if by the time Colin is college-age if post-secondary education will hold the same level of importance it holds today. Already you can see in some job postings "university degree or equivalent experience." Employers are recognizing two things: 1) that most of the real-world learning you do doesn't happen in a classroom and 2) anyone can learn the specifics of an industry if they have a strong work ethic, critical thinking skills, and an ability to learn and be taught. The result, I believe, is that universities and colleges will return to their original purposes: the former to experience and engage in ideas, and the latter to train for specific trades where a mentor is unknown or unavailable. We will lose (finally!) this idea that we must attend school in order to be ready to work. We will acknowledge (finally!) the knowledge of experts within the field and years of experience rather than the authority of textbooks.
So, for now, I tell my boys that if they want to do what Daddy does, then they won't need to go to university. Instead, they will work alongside their father, watching, learning, (failing,) understanding, engaging. In seven years James managed to figure most of it out on his own, and learned the rest from his own entrepreneurial father. In the four years the boys would spend in university, they would learn much, much more from working day to day actually running a business.
So the boys love to play "Senior Moving." They pick furniture up and move it around the home. If I need something toted to the car, or in the backyard, they always come together and pick it up and chatter about how they are moving like they do in Daddy's company. James came up with a little jingle for the business a few years back, and the boys sing it as they go. Priceless.
They also talk about one day doing what Daddy does. There has been some talk lately about jobs, careers, and also university and schooling. What university did Daddy go to? Then comes the conversation about how although those four years taught Daddy a lot, they didn't have much to do with owning and operating a moving company. What university will we go to? Well, that depends on what you want to do.
I realized that while some professions and careers will always require higher education schooling, training, and certification (the medical profession, for example), I wonder if by the time Colin is college-age if post-secondary education will hold the same level of importance it holds today. Already you can see in some job postings "university degree or equivalent experience." Employers are recognizing two things: 1) that most of the real-world learning you do doesn't happen in a classroom and 2) anyone can learn the specifics of an industry if they have a strong work ethic, critical thinking skills, and an ability to learn and be taught. The result, I believe, is that universities and colleges will return to their original purposes: the former to experience and engage in ideas, and the latter to train for specific trades where a mentor is unknown or unavailable. We will lose (finally!) this idea that we must attend school in order to be ready to work. We will acknowledge (finally!) the knowledge of experts within the field and years of experience rather than the authority of textbooks.
So, for now, I tell my boys that if they want to do what Daddy does, then they won't need to go to university. Instead, they will work alongside their father, watching, learning, (failing,) understanding, engaging. In seven years James managed to figure most of it out on his own, and learned the rest from his own entrepreneurial father. In the four years the boys would spend in university, they would learn much, much more from working day to day actually running a business.
Thursday, 19 September 2013
Piano lessons
The time has come: we have started piano lessons. I wasn't sure when, or even if, I would ever teach my kids piano. You'd think that after 15 years+ of teaching other people it would only be logical to take my own children on as students. But I have heard from many people that it is next to impossible to teach your own children piano lessons.
I had considered the idea of swapping lessons with a friend of mine who wants her children to take lessons, but is equally reticent to take on the challenge. But in trying to simplify our schedule this year, it was looking like another night to try and rush out the door, another night that seems entirely eaten up with just a one hour time block. So I thought I would at least give it a go.
One of the main challenges of teaching your own children is the temptation to just "fit it in" when you can during the week. That is the easiest way for it not to happen. Because finding an extra quiet hour every week hasn't happened in 8 years of raising kids yet. Also, our piano is on the main floor of our home, which is a huge wide open concept layout. Plus the piano is in the playroom, which has all the toys, and which also serves as the gateway from the house to the backyard. There is no way I could keep everyone out for a solid hour of uninterrupted music lessons.
So here is our solution: we've chosen Tuesdays right after dinner. Tuesday nights our local Early Years Centre is open late, so James can take Benjamin and Juliette there to play. Then I do a half hour lesson with each of the older boys. When they are not in lesson, they must sit in their room and quietly read.
First night...success!
Both boys are uber excited to start. I have two new lesson books that I've never used before, each one geared to the type and age of child. Caleb has a strong desire to get on there and get his fingers moving. Whether the notes and rhythms are right or wrong, it doesn't matter so much as long as he's strengthening those finger muscles and showing enthusiasm for making music. Colin's mathematical brain is going to make him a quick sight-reader. His program is based on sight-reading the notes, which means you are playing real songs right away. The book asks the student to memorize where tow notes are on the keyboard, and then read all the other notes in relation to those two. At first, I was fighting Colin on this method...all he wanted to do was read the notes in relation to the one he had previously played. Then I realized that what he was doing is exactly what this method is heading toward, and he had jumped a bunch of steps to get there.
I am so excited to start the kids on their musical journey. Yes, we will very likely be one of those families where everyone plays multiple instruments and we perform together. And I love that idea.
I had considered the idea of swapping lessons with a friend of mine who wants her children to take lessons, but is equally reticent to take on the challenge. But in trying to simplify our schedule this year, it was looking like another night to try and rush out the door, another night that seems entirely eaten up with just a one hour time block. So I thought I would at least give it a go.
One of the main challenges of teaching your own children is the temptation to just "fit it in" when you can during the week. That is the easiest way for it not to happen. Because finding an extra quiet hour every week hasn't happened in 8 years of raising kids yet. Also, our piano is on the main floor of our home, which is a huge wide open concept layout. Plus the piano is in the playroom, which has all the toys, and which also serves as the gateway from the house to the backyard. There is no way I could keep everyone out for a solid hour of uninterrupted music lessons.
So here is our solution: we've chosen Tuesdays right after dinner. Tuesday nights our local Early Years Centre is open late, so James can take Benjamin and Juliette there to play. Then I do a half hour lesson with each of the older boys. When they are not in lesson, they must sit in their room and quietly read.
First night...success!
Both boys are uber excited to start. I have two new lesson books that I've never used before, each one geared to the type and age of child. Caleb has a strong desire to get on there and get his fingers moving. Whether the notes and rhythms are right or wrong, it doesn't matter so much as long as he's strengthening those finger muscles and showing enthusiasm for making music. Colin's mathematical brain is going to make him a quick sight-reader. His program is based on sight-reading the notes, which means you are playing real songs right away. The book asks the student to memorize where tow notes are on the keyboard, and then read all the other notes in relation to those two. At first, I was fighting Colin on this method...all he wanted to do was read the notes in relation to the one he had previously played. Then I realized that what he was doing is exactly what this method is heading toward, and he had jumped a bunch of steps to get there.
I am so excited to start the kids on their musical journey. Yes, we will very likely be one of those families where everyone plays multiple instruments and we perform together. And I love that idea.
Wednesday, 18 September 2013
Yelling
Do you yell?
I hope you do. Because then that means I'm not alone in my failure. I was thinking this morning about yelling at the kids after they haven't listened the first 4,938 times I asked them to do something. I was thinking about yelling when they are being obstinate. I was thinking about yelling because I am tired or stressed.
Then I was thinking about my own imperfections. I was thinking about how it wouldn't improve my behaviour very much if someone yelled at me because of something lousy I did. I was thinking about how the Holy Spirit doesn't yell, but can still convect me of a behaviour I know I need to change. I was thinking about how yelling doesn't really accomplish anything.
Nothing. Nothing at all. Really, when you think about it, while what you are saying might be very important, or might need to get through to someone, using a very loud, yelling voice doesn't improve the transmission of that idea. In fact, it most often would have the opposite effect; our natural defence to being berated is to shut down or put up a protective shell. Essentially, we block out the abuse.
Benjamin has been giving us a run for our money for two years now. The behaviour that most often gets us going is the pure stubborness. He will stand there and refuse to comply with what needs to happen. Sometimes I have the time to talk it through, cajole, cater to his insistence, but sometimes it just needs doing now. And then after asking and asking and asking I lose my cool and I yell.
Do you yell?
I hope you don't. I hope you have mastered the patience it takes to swallow that urge when it rises within. I hope you mastered it so well that it is no longer a part of you, that simply have a peaceful nature. Because that gives me hope that one day I, too, will overcome this weakness within.
I hope you do. Because then that means I'm not alone in my failure. I was thinking this morning about yelling at the kids after they haven't listened the first 4,938 times I asked them to do something. I was thinking about yelling when they are being obstinate. I was thinking about yelling because I am tired or stressed.
Then I was thinking about my own imperfections. I was thinking about how it wouldn't improve my behaviour very much if someone yelled at me because of something lousy I did. I was thinking about how the Holy Spirit doesn't yell, but can still convect me of a behaviour I know I need to change. I was thinking about how yelling doesn't really accomplish anything.
Nothing. Nothing at all. Really, when you think about it, while what you are saying might be very important, or might need to get through to someone, using a very loud, yelling voice doesn't improve the transmission of that idea. In fact, it most often would have the opposite effect; our natural defence to being berated is to shut down or put up a protective shell. Essentially, we block out the abuse.
Benjamin has been giving us a run for our money for two years now. The behaviour that most often gets us going is the pure stubborness. He will stand there and refuse to comply with what needs to happen. Sometimes I have the time to talk it through, cajole, cater to his insistence, but sometimes it just needs doing now. And then after asking and asking and asking I lose my cool and I yell.
Do you yell?
I hope you don't. I hope you have mastered the patience it takes to swallow that urge when it rises within. I hope you mastered it so well that it is no longer a part of you, that simply have a peaceful nature. Because that gives me hope that one day I, too, will overcome this weakness within.
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