All the extra-curricular things start this week. With three kids, that means we either do three times as much, or everyone agrees on the activity. Our family works better with the latter arrangement. So, on Thursday, we have one thing, on Friday another plus some socializing, and on Saturday, three hours of ballet. It's a little crazy, but really, it's only fiddle, dance, and one other thing. I bet most people would think that pretty mild, and then throw one or two sports in for good measure.
I do not like all the driving, but I really believe dance and music are good, and the older two are very definitely interested. (Sylvie is interested, too, but we do not do such structured classes for such little people.) The Thursday activity is a prime, fairly unstructured time for Ezra to socialize with kids his age and older. Next year, we want Phaedra to participate in the same program for the same reason. I can teach math and Norse mythology, but I'm not a peer.
Can you feel my tension building? Here's the problem- I do not want to spend every day of the week driving people to different activities. However, I also commit as a homeschooler to making sure the gaps in my curriculum (like playmates and music lessons) are filled some other way. These things are apparently mutually exclusive, and the second one takes precedence.
That's all. I'm just a little bummed that it's time to start driving again, but the children are thrilled. Phaedra has asked every day for two weeks, "How many more days until ballet?"
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
Moving in and Having Company
Packing is an excellent time to get rid of things. When I look at a room and the stuff in it, I think, "Who would want to pack all that?" Then I don't pack it. However, unpacking is overlooked as another very nice sifting time, and I have been sifting.
I have sifted through the sand in one bay of the barn until my shoes are full. I have sifted a stranger's detritus and put most of it into a dumpster. I have sifted my boxes to figure what comes up to the house, goes to the garage, or stays in the barn. And, I have quietly sifted through some boxes while no one was looking.
Here's the thing- when I was packing, I had three little helpers anxious to get all the bits of string, bottle caps, strips of finger chaining, and pages of artwork into the boxes. They never ask again for any of this; it collects in the corners of their rooms, under tables, and behind shelves the same way spiders multiply at the top of the basement stairs. So, I sweetly packed most of it, and lastnight, we had a nice bonfire full of it.
Also, we moved more furniture into the house. I am actually sitting at a desk to type this. Our beautiful table and our comfy couch glow invitingly in their respective spaces. The beds are all resting on bedframes, and my paint can bookshelves have been disassembled. Very nice...
So, in the midst of all this, I decided to have a party. It was so much fun. One guest asked why we would do this at this point in all our work. The truth is we just love company. It was exciting to race around and see whether we would have a bathroom sink before the guests arrived. It inspired us to get some of the construction debris out of the yard and into the dumpster. Ezra and I mowed a baseball field down by the barn. We even made it so people could actually get in either door.
Then, we tried to play baseball. It did not go the way I thought it would, but the players all had a good time. We ate together sprawled across the grass. Then everyone played a rollicking game of freeze tag; Jason was the most determined, but we all had fun.
I'm glad we're here. I'm glad our friends came to our slightly disheveled house and enjoyed themselves around the mess.
I have sifted through the sand in one bay of the barn until my shoes are full. I have sifted a stranger's detritus and put most of it into a dumpster. I have sifted my boxes to figure what comes up to the house, goes to the garage, or stays in the barn. And, I have quietly sifted through some boxes while no one was looking.
Here's the thing- when I was packing, I had three little helpers anxious to get all the bits of string, bottle caps, strips of finger chaining, and pages of artwork into the boxes. They never ask again for any of this; it collects in the corners of their rooms, under tables, and behind shelves the same way spiders multiply at the top of the basement stairs. So, I sweetly packed most of it, and lastnight, we had a nice bonfire full of it.
Also, we moved more furniture into the house. I am actually sitting at a desk to type this. Our beautiful table and our comfy couch glow invitingly in their respective spaces. The beds are all resting on bedframes, and my paint can bookshelves have been disassembled. Very nice...
So, in the midst of all this, I decided to have a party. It was so much fun. One guest asked why we would do this at this point in all our work. The truth is we just love company. It was exciting to race around and see whether we would have a bathroom sink before the guests arrived. It inspired us to get some of the construction debris out of the yard and into the dumpster. Ezra and I mowed a baseball field down by the barn. We even made it so people could actually get in either door.
Then, we tried to play baseball. It did not go the way I thought it would, but the players all had a good time. We ate together sprawled across the grass. Then everyone played a rollicking game of freeze tag; Jason was the most determined, but we all had fun.
I'm glad we're here. I'm glad our friends came to our slightly disheveled house and enjoyed themselves around the mess.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Time Alone
Jason left around 9:00 this morning with the children and they were not home until after 4:00. It was a delicious day.
Jason had deliberately left the other keys, so I could go somewhere, but I knew I would not need them. We had joked that I might spend the day in the hammock. I knew I was going to work and listen to inappropriate music and work and eat a half-ass lunch and work and not answer anyone all day long.
I have little fantasies about days like today. I dream that I start a project and finish it without one interruption. I dream that I am able to do tangential things without the main things getting messed up before I get back to it. I dream about working until I'm shaky, eating a little peanut butter, and going back to it without worrying about anyone else. I dream about being at home without being on duty. Today all these dreams came true.
And what did I do?
I put finish on the rest of the pine floors. I did NOT do dishes. I ate half a piece of bread with peanut butter and a cucumber. I worked in the barn for an hour, then another coat on the floor, another bit of bread, some more work in the barn, another coat, and back into the barn until everyone got home. It was heavenly.
I love taking care of my children; I love the various aspects of my job. Sometimes, though, I just want a break, and not from the physically exhausting tasks, but the emotionally draining ones. When Jason and the children are away together, I know everyone is well cared for, or at least as much so as when I'm alone with the children, and I can just let that part of concern slip for awhile.
Oh- and my music of choice today was Jane's Addiction, Pink Floyd's The Wall, Sublime, and Lyle Lovett.
Jason had deliberately left the other keys, so I could go somewhere, but I knew I would not need them. We had joked that I might spend the day in the hammock. I knew I was going to work and listen to inappropriate music and work and eat a half-ass lunch and work and not answer anyone all day long.
I have little fantasies about days like today. I dream that I start a project and finish it without one interruption. I dream that I am able to do tangential things without the main things getting messed up before I get back to it. I dream about working until I'm shaky, eating a little peanut butter, and going back to it without worrying about anyone else. I dream about being at home without being on duty. Today all these dreams came true.
And what did I do?
I put finish on the rest of the pine floors. I did NOT do dishes. I ate half a piece of bread with peanut butter and a cucumber. I worked in the barn for an hour, then another coat on the floor, another bit of bread, some more work in the barn, another coat, and back into the barn until everyone got home. It was heavenly.
I love taking care of my children; I love the various aspects of my job. Sometimes, though, I just want a break, and not from the physically exhausting tasks, but the emotionally draining ones. When Jason and the children are away together, I know everyone is well cared for, or at least as much so as when I'm alone with the children, and I can just let that part of concern slip for awhile.
Oh- and my music of choice today was Jane's Addiction, Pink Floyd's The Wall, Sublime, and Lyle Lovett.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Break on through
Today, we sanded the floors. Jason laid these pine floors, Todd counter- sunk the nails, and now, we're almost done. I actually ran the sander. Jason was fretting about whether he could do it right, and I offered to take that risk. We used a 4 position orbital sander, so it wasn't too scary.
Things I learned today: Sanders are heavy. You can run a sander over a hole in the floor with no ill effects. You can angle the sander into the corner. Sanders are really very heavy. It's probably worth it to do the coat, sand, coat treatment if you want buttery smooth floors.
Tomorrow, we'll get the rest of the floors coated (we only did the kids' rooms today), and then we can finally move our stuff from the barn to the house.
Also, the dumpster man brought us another dumpster. We figure we can pretty easily fill it with the rest of the remodeling trash, the stuff from the basement, and the stuff from the barn. That will be the second dumpster we've filled. I hope not to leave so much crap for someone else to throw away.
Things I learned today: Sanders are heavy. You can run a sander over a hole in the floor with no ill effects. You can angle the sander into the corner. Sanders are really very heavy. It's probably worth it to do the coat, sand, coat treatment if you want buttery smooth floors.
Tomorrow, we'll get the rest of the floors coated (we only did the kids' rooms today), and then we can finally move our stuff from the barn to the house.
Also, the dumpster man brought us another dumpster. We figure we can pretty easily fill it with the rest of the remodeling trash, the stuff from the basement, and the stuff from the barn. That will be the second dumpster we've filled. I hope not to leave so much crap for someone else to throw away.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Be True
I have a problem. Well, I have lots, but I'm thinking on how my desire for harmony leads me to betray myself sometimes. This is nice at times, especially in short term interactions, like the grocery line. I can nod and smile and let most things slide right off my back. I do not have to let everyone know how dumb they are or how right I am.
It gets trickier when I am dealing with people I want to call friends. And the parenting spot is the one I find trickiest. I can be completely honest about my political views or thoughts on abortion or beliefs around god, but I might not admit that I let my kids eat dirt, discuss poop, and climb on top of swingsets. The first three or thirty times I am parenting around someone I am not comfortable with, I am extremely likely to follow their lead.
They tell their children, "Put on a hat, here's some sunscreen, stay out of trees, put down the stick, be nice..." Suddenly, I hear myself repeating these things I do not believe, or quietly whispering that my children should stay out of the trees to make this person comfortable.
I do believe in the comfort of others, but I think it can go too far. If I really believe sunscreen is bunk, then I can just not use it without talking about it. I think tree climbing is good; I understand why someone might not allow it, and I am happy to discuss it or suggest other activities, but I've decided my children can definitely climb the trees around our house. I have more important things to teach than the evils of poop talk or playing with sticks. I feel the rule of non combatants is much more important than whether or not it is ever okay to brandish a stick. Also, the fact that rules change based on venue is a frequent speech, and I also think more important than, "Be nice, be nice, be nice...."
There is some line between respecting what I believe and respecting the beliefs of others. When I can make my choice on my own without making it about all those other people, then I can be confident I am making my own mistakes. I can also discuss my choices without judging a different choice. When I get defensive and feel a need to convert others, then I open myself up for conversion and judgment. When I start chanting another mother's parenting speeches, I'm going to lose my way pretty quickly, as I won't be able to convince my children when I am not even convinced.
Sure, people probably judge me even when I am calm and sure of the mistake I'm making, but it's like that tree falling in the forest. I'll just have to hope none of my children are in it.
It gets trickier when I am dealing with people I want to call friends. And the parenting spot is the one I find trickiest. I can be completely honest about my political views or thoughts on abortion or beliefs around god, but I might not admit that I let my kids eat dirt, discuss poop, and climb on top of swingsets. The first three or thirty times I am parenting around someone I am not comfortable with, I am extremely likely to follow their lead.
They tell their children, "Put on a hat, here's some sunscreen, stay out of trees, put down the stick, be nice..." Suddenly, I hear myself repeating these things I do not believe, or quietly whispering that my children should stay out of the trees to make this person comfortable.
I do believe in the comfort of others, but I think it can go too far. If I really believe sunscreen is bunk, then I can just not use it without talking about it. I think tree climbing is good; I understand why someone might not allow it, and I am happy to discuss it or suggest other activities, but I've decided my children can definitely climb the trees around our house. I have more important things to teach than the evils of poop talk or playing with sticks. I feel the rule of non combatants is much more important than whether or not it is ever okay to brandish a stick. Also, the fact that rules change based on venue is a frequent speech, and I also think more important than, "Be nice, be nice, be nice...."
There is some line between respecting what I believe and respecting the beliefs of others. When I can make my choice on my own without making it about all those other people, then I can be confident I am making my own mistakes. I can also discuss my choices without judging a different choice. When I get defensive and feel a need to convert others, then I open myself up for conversion and judgment. When I start chanting another mother's parenting speeches, I'm going to lose my way pretty quickly, as I won't be able to convince my children when I am not even convinced.
Sure, people probably judge me even when I am calm and sure of the mistake I'm making, but it's like that tree falling in the forest. I'll just have to hope none of my children are in it.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Blessings
I am not religious in a god way, but I believe in the greatness of the universe. I believe that there are things I cannot understand and that I do not need to understand. And, I believe no one can actually know, but this minute, right now, is all there is.
Still, I feel gratitude to someone or something for the beauty of my life. I had all that normal screwy stuff from childhood, but I would tell you it was mostly good. My mother is dead, but I feel her love every day. I am married to the exact right person. I live here.
We happened into Vermont and onto this land. We have met some really wonderful people here seemingly by chance. We seem to have landed in a welcoming community. Call it luck, call it grace, but it's good.
Sure, I have days when the last shoelace breaks and the plumbing is backed up and the keys are in Jason's pocket. Even then, I have so much good in my life that I end up laughing at my human frailty. I have to hope that this carries me through whatever it is we're wandering into next.
Still, I feel gratitude to someone or something for the beauty of my life. I had all that normal screwy stuff from childhood, but I would tell you it was mostly good. My mother is dead, but I feel her love every day. I am married to the exact right person. I live here.
We happened into Vermont and onto this land. We have met some really wonderful people here seemingly by chance. We seem to have landed in a welcoming community. Call it luck, call it grace, but it's good.
Sure, I have days when the last shoelace breaks and the plumbing is backed up and the keys are in Jason's pocket. Even then, I have so much good in my life that I end up laughing at my human frailty. I have to hope that this carries me through whatever it is we're wandering into next.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
The Missing Spouse
Here's the arrangement that makes our new living situation palatable to two people who think we as Americans use way too much gas. Jason spends two nights a week sleeping on an air mattress in a warehouse sixty miles away.
View My Saved Places in a larger map
This is a strain in some ways, but one of the perks is that most of the time he only works away from home four days a week instead of five. We're a solid month into this system, and I would give it an A+ so far. However, Jason finds being away from us hard at times; I am reluctant to put words in his mouth, but I would get lonely in his shoes. Also, our first plan was for him to be home Wednesdays, but this made to disjointed a week for him. He said it felt like he had two Mondays. This is the second week we are trying a longer weekend instead.
On our end, it has a few problems, like I have to make breakfast two more mornings and there is no one to call in as back up when I feel at the end of my tether. The children definitely ask for him as we sit around the dinner table, and all the funny stories have to be told over the phone. I have to avoid troubling thoughts as I lie down for the night; I absolutely must never think of the genocide and rapes in Rwanda, for example, as I am beginning to drift off. Also, I get lonely for the person I like best in all the world.
On the other hand, I get to parent without checking to see how Jason feels. If I want all three kids in bed by 7:00, I can do it. If it seems fair to let Ezra wander around outside while the girls are going to bed, I can say yes. I can serve ice cream or tomatoes and cheese for dinner. It also means I have to check myself on whether I am being reasonable in a discipline situation.
I think this plan is working, but we will have to monitor the toll it is taking over time. There will be times in winter when the weather or the Christmas rush will force the plans this way, and then, perhaps, the resentment will build. But, maybe, we'll all get used to it, we'll tank up on Jason's specialness when he's around, and then send him off full of our love for another couple of days.
View My Saved Places in a larger map
This is a strain in some ways, but one of the perks is that most of the time he only works away from home four days a week instead of five. We're a solid month into this system, and I would give it an A+ so far. However, Jason finds being away from us hard at times; I am reluctant to put words in his mouth, but I would get lonely in his shoes. Also, our first plan was for him to be home Wednesdays, but this made to disjointed a week for him. He said it felt like he had two Mondays. This is the second week we are trying a longer weekend instead.
On our end, it has a few problems, like I have to make breakfast two more mornings and there is no one to call in as back up when I feel at the end of my tether. The children definitely ask for him as we sit around the dinner table, and all the funny stories have to be told over the phone. I have to avoid troubling thoughts as I lie down for the night; I absolutely must never think of the genocide and rapes in Rwanda, for example, as I am beginning to drift off. Also, I get lonely for the person I like best in all the world.
On the other hand, I get to parent without checking to see how Jason feels. If I want all three kids in bed by 7:00, I can do it. If it seems fair to let Ezra wander around outside while the girls are going to bed, I can say yes. I can serve ice cream or tomatoes and cheese for dinner. It also means I have to check myself on whether I am being reasonable in a discipline situation.
I think this plan is working, but we will have to monitor the toll it is taking over time. There will be times in winter when the weather or the Christmas rush will force the plans this way, and then, perhaps, the resentment will build. But, maybe, we'll all get used to it, we'll tank up on Jason's specialness when he's around, and then send him off full of our love for another couple of days.
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