For years now we have been blessed with having immediate repercussions if we don't eat an extremely healthy diet. So much so, that it had been years since I ate anything artificial. Then somehow or other we ended up with a strawberry starburst in my path. I remembered having loved the chewiness and the yummy strawberry flavor. Strawberries are my favorite! So much so that in summer we sometimes live off of Strawberry ice cream made in the vitamix with simply frozen strawberries and homemade yogurt. So, I thought, who would know? It isn't like I personally will go crazy if I eat this. Maybe it would be good for me to eat it, as then there would be no chance of my daughter coming across it! Ya, that's it, I would cheat for her sake!
So I ate it. And it was the yuckiest thing I had tasted in a long time. I guess after 2 or 3 years of an absolutely pure diet, and with spoiling myself and the kids with real strawberries so often, fake strawberry food coloring packaged 10 years ago and it doesn't matter, flavor, just doesn't taste good anymore!
It used to, when I would cheat at the very beginning. I think it took 2 or 3 years for my tastes to change. But now, cheating is just no fun. Why bother to cheat with a diet, when it doesn't even taste good?
I was reminded of this recently when I took out the recycle. You see I sometimes cheat with things besides high fructose corn syrup. Every time I "cheat" and use disposable diapers, I am all too soon reminded of why I use cloth. Contrary to even my commercial fed imagination, disposable diapers do leak, they do have blow-outs, they are never absorbent enough for the whole night (cloth, you can make them so), they give diaper rashes, stink like cloth never did, are stiff and must be uncomfortable to wear, and worst of all, no matter how you hide them, you are storing a weeks worth of human waste every single week you use them. This last one is the one that reminded me of it never being any fun when I do give in and cheat, as I accidentally dumped the recycle in the outside garbage can in the middle of the night in the dark. Fretting over the thought of all that sorting going to waste, it wasn't until after I dove in after it that I remembered that we had been using disposable diapers lately.
The laundry pile, swollen with the swift current of umpteen kids with the stomach flu, needed to be sorted anyway.
I love sorting laundry! I love the different textures (we don't keep stuff with yucky textures). I love the smell of the outdoors from the clothesline, or the warmth and floofiness from the dryer. I love the feeling of opening presents as I find long lost friends, like my favorite diaper covers. Cloth just feels so good, and is so much fun to put on my babies.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Autism
I do not like Halloween. I have never liked Halloween. I love the idea of competitively dressing up in a creative costume, and going door to door to strangers houses who smile and gush on you and give you something kind. But I cannot risk seeing the horribleness associated with such a wonderful idea.
One Halloween, many, many, many years ago, we did go trick or treating. Someone from church called up. In retrospect, I grudgingly suspect that they knew I would not take the kids out, and felt sorry for them. Grudges are heavy to hold.
At any rate, they said they had made cookies just for my kids, and asked if we were going trick or treating. As they only lived 2 blocks away, I sucked it up and decided to go.
Not one to fight nature, we of course trick or treated all the way there, and all the way back, and, once again, not being one to fight nature, my then three year old ate a whole bag of candy in one night.
When debates about vaccines arise, and science is worshipped, the voices of those who link vaccines with their child's late onset autism are often trod over. If you had ever seen a single experience change your child so significantly, you would at least have compassion in touting statistics that say autism isn't linked to vaccines. If you had ever doubted your memory of abilities your child will never have again, you would perhaps question cold statistics more thoroughly. I have.
I do not see autism itself as something caused by something bad, or cured by something good, but as a different way of thinking. We all are on a spectrum, or jumping around somewhere adjacent. But there are those who think of many things, but not deeply, not overintelligently, and there are those who think of only one thing, but to a degree so discerning that most people pass them off as idiots when they talk about it, because most people can't comprehend even the smallest part of what they know. "Neurotypical" is what is used to define the status quo of very broad, but not very deep, thinking. "Monotropic" refers to the opposite. These are merely different ways of thinking, not some horrible demon that needs to be cast out. Autism itself does not need a cure. But seeing a demon take over your child is something I am familiar with. When something as irreversible as how I had cut her toast, sent her into a 3 hour fit of screaming at the top of her lungs where she wouldn't let us near her, and where she was no more in control of her body than a drunk alcoholic (very different than a normal 3 year old tantrum - seen enough of those too), then Autism seems like something covering your true child, something to cure.
But it is not the Autism that needs cured. Some people have tough feet, others' are more sensitive. Yes, you can train your feet to be tough, you can get callouses on your feet, and some people enjoy doing so. But calloused feet are not always an advantage. Forcing everybody to "toughen up" their feet and then diagnosing those who either don't want to, or whose feet toughen slower as needing "intervention" is wrong.
After changing our diet miraculously gave us our daughter back, I realized how many years of her life we had missed. But it was not the Autism that took those years. The Autism is who she is, how she thinks. It was the environment that hurt her. Just like rough pebbles hurt a tender foot, unexpected events in life hurt her. Training her to "deal with it" would not have taken the hurt away from her. Perhaps it might have even made her feel more alone. Not that she regrets alone. But drugs to deaden who she is, or "therapy" to train her into thinking her concerns aren't as important as our neurotypical concerns, would not have "cured" her. Maybe covered her up - as she is not as far on the monotropic scale as some, but not cured her. The only decent way to help a person with Autism, is to do just that. It is to make sure that their tender feet don't encounter any tough stones. It is to build them shoes, or slippers, or socks, or whatever it is they want for their feet, so that the tough stones don't poke through so sharply. With us, this was diet. Diet was HUGELY a part of it. To the point that when she is on a good diet, she probably wouldn't be able to get diagnosed with autism at all.
I was very hesitant to post about autism. The last thing I want is someone to say, oh, I see, she isn't perfect, the poor thing, because her kid has autism. I am not perfect because I am human. Every parent that isn't perfect has a reason. Every child that throws a temper tantrum, every person that has a melt down. We all have reasons. Clumping a group together for amnesty is not what the world needs. It needs unconditional love and acceptance.
Why is it that if a person has an obvious "special need" we are kind to them. We excuse them. Being blind, deaf, crippled, even having obvious downs syndrome is OK, but people with eye boogers, especially if nothing else seems different or deserving of our pity, especially if they are perhaps better than us at something, people with eye boogers are the most shunned and the least accepted of all people.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aspies_For_Freedom
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Autistic_Pride_Day
http://jerobison.blogspot.com/2013/11/i-resign-my-roles-at-autism-speaks.html
One Halloween, many, many, many years ago, we did go trick or treating. Someone from church called up. In retrospect, I grudgingly suspect that they knew I would not take the kids out, and felt sorry for them. Grudges are heavy to hold.
At any rate, they said they had made cookies just for my kids, and asked if we were going trick or treating. As they only lived 2 blocks away, I sucked it up and decided to go.
Not one to fight nature, we of course trick or treated all the way there, and all the way back, and, once again, not being one to fight nature, my then three year old ate a whole bag of candy in one night.
When debates about vaccines arise, and science is worshipped, the voices of those who link vaccines with their child's late onset autism are often trod over. If you had ever seen a single experience change your child so significantly, you would at least have compassion in touting statistics that say autism isn't linked to vaccines. If you had ever doubted your memory of abilities your child will never have again, you would perhaps question cold statistics more thoroughly. I have.
I do not see autism itself as something caused by something bad, or cured by something good, but as a different way of thinking. We all are on a spectrum, or jumping around somewhere adjacent. But there are those who think of many things, but not deeply, not overintelligently, and there are those who think of only one thing, but to a degree so discerning that most people pass them off as idiots when they talk about it, because most people can't comprehend even the smallest part of what they know. "Neurotypical" is what is used to define the status quo of very broad, but not very deep, thinking. "Monotropic" refers to the opposite. These are merely different ways of thinking, not some horrible demon that needs to be cast out. Autism itself does not need a cure. But seeing a demon take over your child is something I am familiar with. When something as irreversible as how I had cut her toast, sent her into a 3 hour fit of screaming at the top of her lungs where she wouldn't let us near her, and where she was no more in control of her body than a drunk alcoholic (very different than a normal 3 year old tantrum - seen enough of those too), then Autism seems like something covering your true child, something to cure.
But it is not the Autism that needs cured. Some people have tough feet, others' are more sensitive. Yes, you can train your feet to be tough, you can get callouses on your feet, and some people enjoy doing so. But calloused feet are not always an advantage. Forcing everybody to "toughen up" their feet and then diagnosing those who either don't want to, or whose feet toughen slower as needing "intervention" is wrong.
After changing our diet miraculously gave us our daughter back, I realized how many years of her life we had missed. But it was not the Autism that took those years. The Autism is who she is, how she thinks. It was the environment that hurt her. Just like rough pebbles hurt a tender foot, unexpected events in life hurt her. Training her to "deal with it" would not have taken the hurt away from her. Perhaps it might have even made her feel more alone. Not that she regrets alone. But drugs to deaden who she is, or "therapy" to train her into thinking her concerns aren't as important as our neurotypical concerns, would not have "cured" her. Maybe covered her up - as she is not as far on the monotropic scale as some, but not cured her. The only decent way to help a person with Autism, is to do just that. It is to make sure that their tender feet don't encounter any tough stones. It is to build them shoes, or slippers, or socks, or whatever it is they want for their feet, so that the tough stones don't poke through so sharply. With us, this was diet. Diet was HUGELY a part of it. To the point that when she is on a good diet, she probably wouldn't be able to get diagnosed with autism at all.
I was very hesitant to post about autism. The last thing I want is someone to say, oh, I see, she isn't perfect, the poor thing, because her kid has autism. I am not perfect because I am human. Every parent that isn't perfect has a reason. Every child that throws a temper tantrum, every person that has a melt down. We all have reasons. Clumping a group together for amnesty is not what the world needs. It needs unconditional love and acceptance.
Why is it that if a person has an obvious "special need" we are kind to them. We excuse them. Being blind, deaf, crippled, even having obvious downs syndrome is OK, but people with eye boogers, especially if nothing else seems different or deserving of our pity, especially if they are perhaps better than us at something, people with eye boogers are the most shunned and the least accepted of all people.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aspies_For_Freedom
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Autistic_Pride_Day
http://jerobison.blogspot.com/2013/11/i-resign-my-roles-at-autism-speaks.html
"Wallace would have like to say, 'Hello. My name is Wallace,' but saying hello was not on his list."
This is my favorite book about differences, not "special needs". It has it all, from the hurt ignoring a difference gives, as it implies the difference is bad, to the need to simply think differently. And it does it in a happy upbeat way - nobody really is trying to hurt someone by being uncomfortable around a difference - they just don't know what to do in the situation. All this, and it is just an underlying theme in a hilarious kids book (easier to read than Dr. Seuss - a child can teach themselves how to read from this book). The truths are so universal and subtle that the reader is left wondering if the correlation was even meant by the author, or it just showed through because it was a good book.
Monday, December 30, 2013
Jesus Loves The Little Children
I like songs like this. I know that there is a fear of "indoctrinating" children, but I think God is happy that they are exposed to His existence. What I wonder is when I stopped being loved. Why is it that society tells us the Jesus loves the little children? What about the big children, or even (gasp) the wicked adults?
Suddenly society can tell us what God thinks about us, or rather claim that Deity reflects their feelings about us. Why, when a child does something, is it forgivable. They aren't really wicked at heart. Maybe they were raised wrong. Wasn't Hitler once a child? When did he become unlovable?
"Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt
But I say unto you, a Love your b enemies, c bless them that d curse you, do e good to them that f hate you, and g pray for them which despitefully use you, and h persecute you;
That ye a may be the b children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth c rain on the just and on the unjust." (Matthew 5:43-45)
I used to always think that we were supposed to love our enemies so we could be "good". But here it says that we are commanded to do so in order to be like God. For God loves our enemies just as assuredly as He loves us. And He loves us whether we are good or bad.
I grew up with a more strict religious upbringing than my husband. I am grateful for the knowledge it gave me at a young age, of the love of God for me, but inherent in such upbringings is a very real likelihood of pride, of judging not only other people according to their supposed righteousness, but also ourselves.
"For with what a judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what b measure ye mete, it shall be c measured to you again." (Matthew 7:2)
When we were first married, he used to always say he loved me, and I would ask him why. This confused him. He said there wasn't any "why" about it. It was love. If everything about me changed to something he didn't like, he would still love me. This idea confused me greatly. Who was I? Was I not this overly righteous person I had so tried to become? Wasn't I loveable because I was perfectly nonjudgmental? If he didn't necessarily love anything about me, did he really love me?
Victor Hugo (who else?) addresses this very perplexion in my favorite of his books, (and my favorite book.) "The Man Who Laughs". (free here)
I would rather be known than loved. I would rather someone truly understand me, than want my happiness. But I have come to discover over the decades, that true love is not dependent on the traits of the person being loved, remaining static.
I prefer the last song on this disk:
"Jesus loves me when I'm good. Jesus loves me when I'm bad."
Though "when I'm bad it makes him sad" could be grossly misinterpreted.
When I hear it I imagine a suffocating guardian leaning over one, saying, "Don't be bad, because that makes me sooooo sad!" in a manipulative voice.
True sadness from someone being bad whom I love comes not from them "disappointing" me, but from the true sorrow from consequences I cannot simultaneously prevent and give them their freedom at the same time. Such as if a bad choice killed another in a car wreck. If this happened to a loved one, it would indeed make me sad. Thankfully Jesus has a cure for His sadness, as He can take away the horrendous sorrow we feel from regretting "being bad".
testing
Because I can never make the links work the first time - I decided to first post here, then give the post it's own page when I finally get it. So this will be updated every time I post a post with links.
me
http://sameoldart.tumblr.com/post/55136644707/ron-mueck-at-the-fondation-cartier
I came across this sculpture entitled "Woman with shopping" by Ron Mueck, the other day.
And I felt like I was looking at myself. Not because she has features like me, or dresses like me, but because she feels like me. It is almost as if the artist saw me one day a couple of years ago, and decided to make a sculpture of me.
http://sameoldart.tumblr.com/post/55136644707/ron-mueck-at-the-fondation-cartier
You can almost see into her head, the more work that must get done, than she can even think about. Life has fed her so much at this point, that she literally doesn't have even enough energy to enjoy the newborn baby on her chest. It is long since she has been a person. It is long since she was a living plant, making decisions based on anything to do with herself, she is now the dirt a living plant needs to grow. She has been the soil for so long that the thought of when this change happened, is not even relevant. She is a mother. And she is that baby's world. Whoever she is, whatever she is, that baby adores her, not just more than anything in the world, but she is the only thing it cares about.
I do not feel sorry for her. It is the way things are. And this artist has captured the beauty of reality. I feel as if someone, on seeing me, instead of wanting to throw stones, instead of pointing a finger and saying "Bad Mom!", saw the beauty of the millions of moms around the globe, who have given all for their children.
I see myself also in the smile of a lady, not yet old, but wrinkles pulled tight against the overexposed bones of her face as she waits in a food line. Wrinkles from ages of worry about enough food, or enough shelter to prevent frostbite. But she is living, and there is a happiness in that living, a joy in compulsory determination.
I see myself in the lady at the park whose arms are so covered in freckles upon freckles that one could not tell what color her skin originally was by looking at them. Resilient hands rough with creases from well used bones and veins. Intriguing hands, that could tell so many stories, if only they were asked.
It is an exhaustion. But exhaustion beyond thinking is not bad, it just is. There is a fulfillment in exhaustion beyond exhaustion, that will never be found another way. A feeling I would not want to have never known. When you're hiking down a mountain trail, and the sun set hours ago, and you gave up being able to put one leg in front of the other even before that, but you have no supplies to stay on the mountain overnight, and you know you must get down. So you have long ago lost consciousness, just muscles grating on tendons, and blisters on your feet, and perhaps more than a little thirst on the top of the back of your throat where cautious sips from a too empty canteen will never reach. What would life be without a feeling like that? What would life be without living?
Or running a marathon, and wondering if animals' fur rubs them like your clothes rub you. Wondering if walking is not only faster than your stumbling gait, but if it would rub your hipbones in their sockets the way each landing on the pavement does to yours. Shifting your weight to be caught on a bending leg before you know for sure whether or not it is a phantom leg, and your real one, muscles frozen, finally refused to move forward. The heat of your blood draining through your body, and refusing to believe that you are dizzy, though you are not sure that you are awake.
Or childbirth, a hard one, a first one. Never having known your limits. Never having known that what you thought was enough exhaustion to kill you a million times over, would now be something you had long left behind, not by choice, but because your body will do this work whether you bid it to or not. Finding bruises on yourself days later, from repeatedly pressing into something with the pain. The lulls between contractions taunting you, as you know another will come, and another, and another, and another. Your muscles stronger than you knew, stronger than anybody could know, stronger than they are. No sport could get this out of you. No life or death situation, no being chased by something that will consume you. Then you would merely be consumed. But in this case you aren't. And you realize for the first time, the impossible things, nobody is capable of motivating themselves to do, that you can do, now that you are a mother.
Saturday, December 28, 2013
The freedom of want vs. need
After all my kids have been throwing up for a couple of days, I put the babies in disposable diapers because I know what's coming next.
The reason I have disposables laying around though, is the huge difference it makes in my happiness. If I don't have anything to put on the babies' bottoms, but am forced to hand sew diapers out of old T-shirts and hand wash them in the freezing cold outside, then sometimes I start to feel sorry for myself, and begrudge my situation in life, despite it being far easier than the vast majority of people not only in the world today, but throughout history. But, if I know I have a silly little disposable diaper just sitting there waiting for me to give up and be just like everybody else (yes, you taste pride here ;) then I will do whatever it takes to use cloth diapers because I WANT to, and try incessantly to prove that cloth diapers are not just better for the environment, but easier and more fun as well! Well, I fantasize that if I had the perfect diaper stash and was actually organized, it would be just as easy to grab a clean cloth diaper out of the laundry basket, as it would be to find a disposable diaper.
The truth is, that the hardest part of using cloth diapers is finding the clean ones somewhere in the clean laundry mountain - or wishing that I had enough that if I didn't wash diapers twice that day, I would still have a clean diaper to find.
Fun-wise, cloth diapers beat disposables hands down. How many people do you know who drool over a chance to buy a disposable diaper?
I do find it helpful to keep the disposable diapers in the car. That compensates for my disorganization, because just pulling one out of a package would be easier than conquering the laundry pile, but the thought of having to run out to the car, gives me just that much more needed motivation.
I used to think that my kids would learn through natural consequences, and I spent hours pretending I wasn't nagging as I said things like, "I can't do all these dishes by myself and read you stories and if the dishes aren't done we won't have anything to eat the cake on, so please help out because I can't protect you from the natural consequences of not helping." It was true, but it wasn't (isn't - blush) fun. I realized that perhaps humans in general don't like to HAVE to do anything, and that whether it is another person, society, or natural forces, the result is the same - it somehow takes the fun out of it. We love choice! We are so intelligent that we create choice where supposedly there is non. It is my belief that there is always another way - a funner way!
But whether there is another way or not, it is way more fun to choose to do something, than to be compelled to do it. So instead of self-righteously trying to force acknowledgment of the stark reality of natural consequences on my kids, I find it my job to cater to their innate optimism. Doing the dishes is a completely enjoyable choice of what to do with ones time, if there is not undue pressure to think that our lives rest upon whether it gets done that minute or not.
Then I realized this was true for the rest of the world too. How much fun is a job that one feels one has to go to in order to get a paycheck to stay alive? Yet this is the story of the vast majority of employed people in this country. So many enjoyable tasks are turned sour, by making them compulsory. And it is my belief that so many useful tasks are left undone, or done poorly, because those doing them, do not enjoy them.
The reason I have disposables laying around though, is the huge difference it makes in my happiness. If I don't have anything to put on the babies' bottoms, but am forced to hand sew diapers out of old T-shirts and hand wash them in the freezing cold outside, then sometimes I start to feel sorry for myself, and begrudge my situation in life, despite it being far easier than the vast majority of people not only in the world today, but throughout history. But, if I know I have a silly little disposable diaper just sitting there waiting for me to give up and be just like everybody else (yes, you taste pride here ;) then I will do whatever it takes to use cloth diapers because I WANT to, and try incessantly to prove that cloth diapers are not just better for the environment, but easier and more fun as well! Well, I fantasize that if I had the perfect diaper stash and was actually organized, it would be just as easy to grab a clean cloth diaper out of the laundry basket, as it would be to find a disposable diaper.
The truth is, that the hardest part of using cloth diapers is finding the clean ones somewhere in the clean laundry mountain - or wishing that I had enough that if I didn't wash diapers twice that day, I would still have a clean diaper to find.
Fun-wise, cloth diapers beat disposables hands down. How many people do you know who drool over a chance to buy a disposable diaper?
I do find it helpful to keep the disposable diapers in the car. That compensates for my disorganization, because just pulling one out of a package would be easier than conquering the laundry pile, but the thought of having to run out to the car, gives me just that much more needed motivation.
I used to think that my kids would learn through natural consequences, and I spent hours pretending I wasn't nagging as I said things like, "I can't do all these dishes by myself and read you stories and if the dishes aren't done we won't have anything to eat the cake on, so please help out because I can't protect you from the natural consequences of not helping." It was true, but it wasn't (isn't - blush) fun. I realized that perhaps humans in general don't like to HAVE to do anything, and that whether it is another person, society, or natural forces, the result is the same - it somehow takes the fun out of it. We love choice! We are so intelligent that we create choice where supposedly there is non. It is my belief that there is always another way - a funner way!
But whether there is another way or not, it is way more fun to choose to do something, than to be compelled to do it. So instead of self-righteously trying to force acknowledgment of the stark reality of natural consequences on my kids, I find it my job to cater to their innate optimism. Doing the dishes is a completely enjoyable choice of what to do with ones time, if there is not undue pressure to think that our lives rest upon whether it gets done that minute or not.
Then I realized this was true for the rest of the world too. How much fun is a job that one feels one has to go to in order to get a paycheck to stay alive? Yet this is the story of the vast majority of employed people in this country. So many enjoyable tasks are turned sour, by making them compulsory. And it is my belief that so many useful tasks are left undone, or done poorly, because those doing them, do not enjoy them.
Change
" Wherefore, men are free according to the flesh; and all things are given them which are expedient unto man. And they are free to choose liberty and eternal life, through the great Mediator of all men, or to choose captivity and death, according to the captivity and power of the devil ..." (II Nephi 2:27)
Whatever your religion, (I consider Atheism a "religion" - but if you don't want to call it a religion, I don't think anybody else should tell you what to call it. Some people don't think I'm Christian, but I claim the right to call myself Christian if I believe I'm Christian - that's who should decide, the person calling themselves the religion - or nonreligion - not some snooty old committee), the truth of repentance or change is true. I believe that Christ changed the natural continuance and consequence of time, so that when we repent of a mistake (have a true change of heart) we can be as happy as we would have if we had never made the mistake. Life may not be exactly the same as it would have been if we hadn't made the mistake, but we can be as happy or happier than we would have been if we hadn't made the mistake. Whatever ones beliefs, I think this is the most important truth we can pass on to our kids. That we make mistakes, and that we can change.
Last time I yelled at my teenager, I felt so bad. I thought, "Oh, he's going to hate me! I always yell at him and then apologize. He's going to be sick of it and not forgive me this time. If I apologize now, he will be offended and ask why I even bother to apologize if I'm just going to yell again, and again."
But what was I to do? I couldn't just not apologize. So more because I couldn't live without being honest with myself, than for his sake, with trepidation in my heart, I meekly went up to him and apologized.
He laughed! He smiled and said, "I knew you would apologize! I was counting in my head, and watching you, and I knew you wouldn't last to the count of 10!" He just thought it was funny that I was so predictable! Oh, the sweet joy of being forgiven! And I'm so thankful that my son knows my heart. I am so thankful that he knows that when I yell I don't really mean it and has the security that I will almost immediately apologize. I am more than thankful for the resilience of children!
This life is to learn and to grow. The flexibility of repentance and change allow us to do this. If we don't believe in being forgiven, we are like a dead stick. When a dead stick is bent, it snaps. When we think of ourselves as unchangeable, we must either deceive ourselves that our actions are good even when we know they are not, and refuse to live life as we please (a horrible controlling trap) or we think of our actions as irreparable. Like the stick has snapped, and we can never strive to be good, as we are, and now always will be, bad. Christ (or whatever your belief in change is) is the life of a stick. "... I am thea resurrection, and the b life ..." (John 11:25)
If a live stick is bent, it will merely bend, and snap back. Though sometimes not to exactly the same place as before.
I love Mo Willems! He has often been compared to the great Seuss, and rightly so!
He is so amazing! He has given those who don't read that well, the freedom to enjoy not just books, but truly good literature! This is my favorite book by him:
It is about an Elephant named Gerald who ends up accidentally ruining his own plans. And about how, through the love of someone else, he ended up just as happy as if he hadn't ruined them. Not the same, but just as happy. It is a simple and profound text. Easy enough that many people may be able to discover how to read from it.
Whatever your religion, (I consider Atheism a "religion" - but if you don't want to call it a religion, I don't think anybody else should tell you what to call it. Some people don't think I'm Christian, but I claim the right to call myself Christian if I believe I'm Christian - that's who should decide, the person calling themselves the religion - or nonreligion - not some snooty old committee), the truth of repentance or change is true. I believe that Christ changed the natural continuance and consequence of time, so that when we repent of a mistake (have a true change of heart) we can be as happy as we would have if we had never made the mistake. Life may not be exactly the same as it would have been if we hadn't made the mistake, but we can be as happy or happier than we would have been if we hadn't made the mistake. Whatever ones beliefs, I think this is the most important truth we can pass on to our kids. That we make mistakes, and that we can change.
Last time I yelled at my teenager, I felt so bad. I thought, "Oh, he's going to hate me! I always yell at him and then apologize. He's going to be sick of it and not forgive me this time. If I apologize now, he will be offended and ask why I even bother to apologize if I'm just going to yell again, and again."
But what was I to do? I couldn't just not apologize. So more because I couldn't live without being honest with myself, than for his sake, with trepidation in my heart, I meekly went up to him and apologized.
He laughed! He smiled and said, "I knew you would apologize! I was counting in my head, and watching you, and I knew you wouldn't last to the count of 10!" He just thought it was funny that I was so predictable! Oh, the sweet joy of being forgiven! And I'm so thankful that my son knows my heart. I am so thankful that he knows that when I yell I don't really mean it and has the security that I will almost immediately apologize. I am more than thankful for the resilience of children!
This life is to learn and to grow. The flexibility of repentance and change allow us to do this. If we don't believe in being forgiven, we are like a dead stick. When a dead stick is bent, it snaps. When we think of ourselves as unchangeable, we must either deceive ourselves that our actions are good even when we know they are not, and refuse to live life as we please (a horrible controlling trap) or we think of our actions as irreparable. Like the stick has snapped, and we can never strive to be good, as we are, and now always will be, bad. Christ (or whatever your belief in change is) is the life of a stick. "... I am the
If a live stick is bent, it will merely bend, and snap back. Though sometimes not to exactly the same place as before.
I love Mo Willems! He has often been compared to the great Seuss, and rightly so!
He is so amazing! He has given those who don't read that well, the freedom to enjoy not just books, but truly good literature! This is my favorite book by him:
It is about an Elephant named Gerald who ends up accidentally ruining his own plans. And about how, through the love of someone else, he ended up just as happy as if he hadn't ruined them. Not the same, but just as happy. It is a simple and profound text. Easy enough that many people may be able to discover how to read from it.
Friday, December 27, 2013
Not Acknowledging the Government
Sometimes my kids have melt downs. Not cry in the corner melt downs, but throw chairs, make holes in the wall, melt downs. My kids are very athletic.
When this happens, I have 3 different approaches I am tempted to try.
1. Get angry and react.
2. Get angry and decide to ignore it.
3. Not take it as a personal attack on my parenting, assess the situation as it really is and do what I can to help.
(Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful!!! book if you like laughing at yourself and have actually deigned to have to deal with comments like "If you give in, she will never respect you!" lol)
Now in parenting, the answer here is very clear to me. I have prevented countless broken windows, and more importantly broken hearts, as my kids get older and they always know that they can trust me with anything and turn to me for nonjudgmental help with their problems. But when the "wayward" kid is someone or thing trying to take my freedom away, I am again faced with the same choices if I want change and revolution.
1. Get angry and react. (American Revolution / Civil War)
2. Get angry and decide to ignore it. (Martin Luther King Jr. / Gandhi)
3. Not take it as a personal attack on my parenting, asses the situation as it really is and do what I can to help. (We don't know these people's names for a reason - most people don't even know these revolutions happened, but what about the Berlin Wall? What about freedom of religion in China?)
“Over the years, the Church has built a strong relationship of trust with the People’s Republic of China by always respecting the important laws and traditions of that country,” Elder Oaks said.
According to Terry Warner, you usually have to choose between being right and being happy. I'd rather be happy. Furthermore, I very strongly believe that being happy brings about more change than being right does.
Politically I am a Communist-Anarchist. Very much like a Voluntaryist. But I don't believe in not acknowledging the Governments existence. I believe in helping.
(This is just a kids book - not a political book - it just has the word "party" in it and I think of it every time I hear the word, as my kids love reading "Party! Party! Party!")
If everybody who could vote for president last election, had. And everybody that didn't vote last election that could have, didn't vote for either of the two "Parties", then "other" would have had a majority vote!
Let's change the world, not just in a nonviolent way, but in a nice way!
When this happens, I have 3 different approaches I am tempted to try.
1. Get angry and react.
2. Get angry and decide to ignore it.
3. Not take it as a personal attack on my parenting, assess the situation as it really is and do what I can to help.
(Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful!!! book if you like laughing at yourself and have actually deigned to have to deal with comments like "If you give in, she will never respect you!" lol)
Now in parenting, the answer here is very clear to me. I have prevented countless broken windows, and more importantly broken hearts, as my kids get older and they always know that they can trust me with anything and turn to me for nonjudgmental help with their problems. But when the "wayward" kid is someone or thing trying to take my freedom away, I am again faced with the same choices if I want change and revolution.
1. Get angry and react. (American Revolution / Civil War)
2. Get angry and decide to ignore it. (Martin Luther King Jr. / Gandhi)
3. Not take it as a personal attack on my parenting, asses the situation as it really is and do what I can to help. (We don't know these people's names for a reason - most people don't even know these revolutions happened, but what about the Berlin Wall? What about freedom of religion in China?)
“Over the years, the Church has built a strong relationship of trust with the People’s Republic of China by always respecting the important laws and traditions of that country,” Elder Oaks said.
According to Terry Warner, you usually have to choose between being right and being happy. I'd rather be happy. Furthermore, I very strongly believe that being happy brings about more change than being right does.
Politically I am a Communist-Anarchist. Very much like a Voluntaryist. But I don't believe in not acknowledging the Governments existence. I believe in helping.
(This is just a kids book - not a political book - it just has the word "party" in it and I think of it every time I hear the word, as my kids love reading "Party! Party! Party!")
If everybody who could vote for president last election, had. And everybody that didn't vote last election that could have, didn't vote for either of the two "Parties", then "other" would have had a majority vote!
Let's change the world, not just in a nonviolent way, but in a nice way!
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Used and unused Christmas wrapping paper?
When I was little, everybody made a big deal about the fair. We had art contests for it in school, and every kid got excited about it.
We couldn't afford to go. So we made our own fair; The Dandylion Fair!
It wasn't Christmas season, so I guess we needed something to be excited about. We spent weeks coming up with booths and rides and treats, like frozen yogurt pops (we could afford to make our own yogurt).
One of our rides resembled "It's a Small World". I would pull the wagon through an intricate path around the house and garage where we had decorated each place with a different theme. This required some dusty library books on paper crafts and lots and lots of paper. Also some string and tape. We worked and worked and worked on it. But the results were breathtaking. I especially remember the under the sea one.
We hung hundreds of Dr. Seuss type fish from the ceiling at various levels, with twirly seaweed and stuff thrown in. It seemed like all the stuff was floating around you as you drifted through the ocean.
Well, guess what we all have now?
Lots and lots and lots of paper!!!
(I just trace around a square box to get a square on the Christmas paper.)
http://astore.amazon.com/thethiwor-20?_encoding=UTF8&node=4
free origami apps
http://www.paperfolding.com/
http://www.graficaobscura.com/fold/page001.html
http://origamit.scripts.mit.edu/
http://global.yamaha-motor.com/yamahastyle/entertainment/papercraft/animal-global/
http://global.yamaha-motor.com/yamahastyle/entertainment/papercraft/tableau-japan/
http://global.yamaha-motor.com/yamahastyle/entertainment/papercraft/animal-japan/
http://beautyandbedlam.com/simple-paper-craft/
http://www.bloomize.com/galaxy-of-origami-stars/
http://www.bloomize.com/fold-a-heart-page-marker/
http://www.bloomize.com/origami-leaf-with-or-without-veins/
http://www.bloomize.com/sweet-origami-hearts/
http://www.dltk-kids.com/animals/mbouncycobra.htm
http://www.amazingpapergrace.com/honeycomb-ornament-tutorial-2/
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vTxu3zvW03Y&list=PLCZnZ8FBEU1KLSTnE4-TG_RdlZYHbQIAS
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pqRE0xZubTM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NZvh_Y5qiwg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VgXwSdJNks8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p9xKxEV1FkY
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nly4s1NTbWU
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CYVlBbRhG60
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVoQ-OgACcU
We couldn't afford to go. So we made our own fair; The Dandylion Fair!
It wasn't Christmas season, so I guess we needed something to be excited about. We spent weeks coming up with booths and rides and treats, like frozen yogurt pops (we could afford to make our own yogurt).
One of our rides resembled "It's a Small World". I would pull the wagon through an intricate path around the house and garage where we had decorated each place with a different theme. This required some dusty library books on paper crafts and lots and lots of paper. Also some string and tape. We worked and worked and worked on it. But the results were breathtaking. I especially remember the under the sea one.
We hung hundreds of Dr. Seuss type fish from the ceiling at various levels, with twirly seaweed and stuff thrown in. It seemed like all the stuff was floating around you as you drifted through the ocean.
Well, guess what we all have now?
Lots and lots and lots of paper!!!
(I just trace around a square box to get a square on the Christmas paper.)
http://astore.amazon.com/thethiwor-20?_encoding=UTF8&node=4
free origami apps
http://www.paperfolding.com/
http://www.graficaobscura.com/fold/page001.html
http://origamit.scripts.mit.edu/
http://global.yamaha-motor.com/yamahastyle/entertainment/papercraft/animal-global/
http://global.yamaha-motor.com/yamahastyle/entertainment/papercraft/tableau-japan/
http://global.yamaha-motor.com/yamahastyle/entertainment/papercraft/animal-japan/
http://beautyandbedlam.com/simple-paper-craft/
http://www.bloomize.com/galaxy-of-origami-stars/
http://www.bloomize.com/fold-a-heart-page-marker/
http://www.bloomize.com/origami-leaf-with-or-without-veins/
http://www.bloomize.com/sweet-origami-hearts/
http://www.dltk-kids.com/animals/mbouncycobra.htm
http://www.amazingpapergrace.com/honeycomb-ornament-tutorial-2/
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vTxu3zvW03Y&list=PLCZnZ8FBEU1KLSTnE4-TG_RdlZYHbQIAS
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pqRE0xZubTM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NZvh_Y5qiwg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VgXwSdJNks8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p9xKxEV1FkY
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nly4s1NTbWU
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CYVlBbRhG60
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVoQ-OgACcU
"You'd better watch out,"
Sometimes Santa doesn't come because you're naughty.
Sometimes Santa doesn't come because you won't go to bed.
Sometimes Santa doesn't come because you sneak up to try to see him.
Sometimes Santa doesn't come because you're too excited to sleep.
And sometimes Santa doesn't come because he is up all night getting thrown up on by the baby.
I love babies, I have lots of them, and I love the outdoors. I love the idea of being a gypsy or on a adventure, and carrying everything you need. I love hiking. I also love simple machines. So perhaps it isn't any wonder that I love rugged strollers and wagons to take all my kids in.
When I had just one kid, and one on the way, I got the neatest and best stroller out there, one of the best gifts I've ever gotten. It was an original 20" wheeled babyjogger, back when babyjogger was the only one who made jogging strollers, or at least decent ones.
I love the big 20" front wheel. No amount of springs makes it as easy to go over curbs as simply having the axle of the front wheel higher than the curb, not to mention deep gravel, ruts, and hills.
I was thrilled, and thought it would last my whole life. I could carry the next one in a baby carrier or backpack (both of which I was fancy enough to have). And by the time I had a third one, the oldest would just love to hike just like I do and would walk miles and miles with me.
But carrying a baby on you when your 8 months pregnant isn't fun, and despite seeing everybody elses three year olds riding bikes and walking with their older siblings, mine just wanted to ride with his younger siblings. So I started dreaming of other strollers in earnest. I used my jogging stroller everywhere, it was like having legs again - like a good wheelchair must feel to those who can't walk. It made me mobile again, and I LOVE walking. I could take it in any building easily, and even up 3 flights of stairs when the library elevator was broken. But back then there weren't any tandem jogging strollers that didn't look like medical equipment, and double wide ones just didn't go everywhere. But one day I saw a lady with a classic pram. I was in love. I found this
on the internet, and dreamed and drooled as I had 2 more babies. I ended up just squishing them all in my wagon
and tying one onto me and carrying one on my shoulders, depending on how many were asleep in the wagon and preventing too much squishing.
Then I found it mislabeled on e-bay, and knew it was placed there just for me so we could afford it. It would come just in time for Christmas. I was banned from the computer, and pretended that I didn't highly suspect I had the biggest Christmas present ever coming! Christmas is my favorite time of year. Stuffing stockings is my favorite thing I do all year, but after I played Santa, I couldn't get to sleep to see if Santa would come. Usually I can fall asleep anywhere; tree, cement, folding chair, but I wanted Santa to come and to wake up to my dream stroller sitting in the middle of the living room, so bad, I layed there all night with butterflies in my stomach, trying to sleep.
I did get my dream stroller - just Santa didn't set it up that night. He's tricky like that!
Incidentally, the babyjogger ended up being used more and for a longer time. I would pile 3 kids on it between each others legs like on a sled. Only this last year did the fabric, which has been left out in the weather countless times, finally rip. The frame is rusted in some spots which makes it hard to fold up, but is still salvageable! (It has a lifetime warranty - now I know why) It is pretty much indestructible to have survived us. I have used and abused it constantly now for well over a decade. It has gone thousands and thousands of miles with hundreds of pounds on it. If they could fit in it, I would push them in it. Now I see the modern version of the same stroller is $1,000 but I say it is worth that much. If I had bought a new stroller for $25 every time a normal one would have broken (most days around us), I would have spent more than that by now, an not have felt like I had legs again!
The wagon I dream about now:
What I really want now that my older kids are riding bikes all over town!
http://www.astreetbikenameddesire.com/babboe_curve.html
Sometimes Santa doesn't come because you won't go to bed.
Sometimes Santa doesn't come because you sneak up to try to see him.
Sometimes Santa doesn't come because you're too excited to sleep.
And sometimes Santa doesn't come because he is up all night getting thrown up on by the baby.
I love babies, I have lots of them, and I love the outdoors. I love the idea of being a gypsy or on a adventure, and carrying everything you need. I love hiking. I also love simple machines. So perhaps it isn't any wonder that I love rugged strollers and wagons to take all my kids in.
When I had just one kid, and one on the way, I got the neatest and best stroller out there, one of the best gifts I've ever gotten. It was an original 20" wheeled babyjogger, back when babyjogger was the only one who made jogging strollers, or at least decent ones.
I love the big 20" front wheel. No amount of springs makes it as easy to go over curbs as simply having the axle of the front wheel higher than the curb, not to mention deep gravel, ruts, and hills.
I was thrilled, and thought it would last my whole life. I could carry the next one in a baby carrier or backpack (both of which I was fancy enough to have). And by the time I had a third one, the oldest would just love to hike just like I do and would walk miles and miles with me.
But carrying a baby on you when your 8 months pregnant isn't fun, and despite seeing everybody elses three year olds riding bikes and walking with their older siblings, mine just wanted to ride with his younger siblings. So I started dreaming of other strollers in earnest. I used my jogging stroller everywhere, it was like having legs again - like a good wheelchair must feel to those who can't walk. It made me mobile again, and I LOVE walking. I could take it in any building easily, and even up 3 flights of stairs when the library elevator was broken. But back then there weren't any tandem jogging strollers that didn't look like medical equipment, and double wide ones just didn't go everywhere. But one day I saw a lady with a classic pram. I was in love. I found this
and tying one onto me and carrying one on my shoulders, depending on how many were asleep in the wagon and preventing too much squishing.
Then I found it mislabeled on e-bay, and knew it was placed there just for me so we could afford it. It would come just in time for Christmas. I was banned from the computer, and pretended that I didn't highly suspect I had the biggest Christmas present ever coming! Christmas is my favorite time of year. Stuffing stockings is my favorite thing I do all year, but after I played Santa, I couldn't get to sleep to see if Santa would come. Usually I can fall asleep anywhere; tree, cement, folding chair, but I wanted Santa to come and to wake up to my dream stroller sitting in the middle of the living room, so bad, I layed there all night with butterflies in my stomach, trying to sleep.
I did get my dream stroller - just Santa didn't set it up that night. He's tricky like that!
Incidentally, the babyjogger ended up being used more and for a longer time. I would pile 3 kids on it between each others legs like on a sled. Only this last year did the fabric, which has been left out in the weather countless times, finally rip. The frame is rusted in some spots which makes it hard to fold up, but is still salvageable! (It has a lifetime warranty - now I know why) It is pretty much indestructible to have survived us. I have used and abused it constantly now for well over a decade. It has gone thousands and thousands of miles with hundreds of pounds on it. If they could fit in it, I would push them in it. Now I see the modern version of the same stroller is $1,000 but I say it is worth that much. If I had bought a new stroller for $25 every time a normal one would have broken (most days around us), I would have spent more than that by now, an not have felt like I had legs again!
The wagon I dream about now:
What I really want now that my older kids are riding bikes all over town!
http://www.astreetbikenameddesire.com/babboe_curve.html
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
When the kids are throwing up all night long
Rule #1 Keep the laundry moving!
Rule # 2 I you run out of non-thrown-up-on towels, blankets, sheets, and rags, (which I have done before), the empty bathtub is a wonderful place to make a bed out of any cloth you can find (T-shirts are nice and soft and cottony).
It is times like these that I am grateful for a dryer! And then I start to think of people who have, and people who do live with sickness in cold places without stuff like dryers. And I think of times in winter when I have gone without a dryer, with several in cloth diapers. I remember my Grandmother telling about diapers hanging around the stove, and I am reminded of this book,
"The next year the twins were born. Fanny washed diapers and hung them on the stove, washed diapers and hung them across the mantel, washed diapers and hung them from the doorknobs." I've done this before. Actually, with sublimation things usually dry faster hanging outside, even when it is very cold, unless it is very foggy or snowy, rainy, sleety, oblecky, or "any other kind of precipitation"-y. I have even been able to dry stuff while it was snowing. The snow was so dry and powdery, and the wind was blowing so much, they (thankfully, I really needed them) dried at a speed comparable to the dryer I didn't have right them.
When I lived in a dry climate, I even successfully dried laundry outside for 2 weeks where the hottest temperature in the middle of the hottest day, was 1*. I think it has to do with the air circulation. Just like a fan will defrost your freezer faster because new air molecules have't gotten wet yet. Makes me wonder just how much better for you the air outside is compared to the air inside. It has been said that the reason we get sick more in winter isn't because it is colder, it is because we spend more time indoors because it is so hard to get kids ready to go outside!
After experiencing not having a dryer in the middle of winter, (with several babies in cloth diapers), more than once, I tend to lean heavily towards polyester fleece and polyester micro-plush (minky)
material to have winter clothes and blankets made out of. I often think of the pioneers freezing to death on the plains, and I wish I could send them a micro-plush blankie. I usually prefer natural materials like hemp, linen (made from your good old healthy flax plant), cotton,
and peace silk (I love silk!), but for warmth, softness, extreme durability, and washing and drying fast and easily, you can't beat polyester fleece or micro-plush! Did you know that not only can you cut fleece and not have to hem it to keep it from unraveling, but the same thing is true with micro-plush. As you cut it, lots of little bits that you have cut get all over, as the nature of the material makes you cut lots of little things as you cut it, but if you then wash it, and get all the extra cut little fuzzes off, it will never unravel more at all. So any pattern that calls for fleece, you can also use micro-plush (minky) instead. (And I think micro-plush is so much softer and nicer, and it doesn't get pilly and itchy as fast if you wash it a million times on hot because it got thrown up on!) Though the longer the knap, the itchier it tends to get if it is washed a million times. And unless it says so, it is usually only soft on one side.
I realized that I can send these things back in time, in a way. There are people right now, who are living just like the pioneers, and who could use plastic (polyester) blankets just as much! Not to mention homeless people in our own backyards, who could use an extrmely durable, extremely soft, extremely water resistant, extremely easy and fast to wash and dry (really cheep at the laundry matt - no extra quarters because it isn't dry yet), blanket!
If you want to make a cute homemade blanket that is easy to sew or even no-sew: http://www.wikihow.com/Make-a-Fleece-Tie-Blanket (If I were to use micro-plush
minky for this, I would make the fringe things slightly thicker. Micro-plush does shed a little as you wash it the first time, shrinking the size of things like fringes, but after that it won't ever unravel, just like fleece!)
http://www.projectlinus.org/
http://www.mcc.org/kits/blankets
The reason I like these places is stated so well on the "about" page of the Project Linus: "Provide a rewarding and fun service opportunity for interested individuals and groups in local communities, for the benefit of children."
There are lots of places where you can donate money, (lots of money), to help people, but even when there are so many people in the world who need help, I think perhaps we have gone too far in making helping efficient. There is something else there that is just as or I would argue, more important than how many blankets are donated. It is the person giving the blanket feeling it. If you just donate money, there is no personal connection. But if you spend time making something like a blanket, or a fleece hat, you have time to personalize it and to think about how the person who receives it will enjoy the personality you give it.
You can sometimes get micro-plush blankets for really cheap at a local store this time of year, as they try to sell out Christmas stuff before New Years. - I would buy the cheap blankets, and just use them as material to sew what I wanted.
http://www.marthastewart.com/265844/fleece-hats
(remember, when using micro-plush minky instead of fleece, cut it a little larger because it sheds that first time and looses a little around the edges - then it should never unravel at all again!)
Even better yet, make a bunch of blankets and hats (and anything else you can think of) and go find and visit homeless people in your own back yard. Then you don't have to just imagine their happiness. Giving isn't only about the person being given to being helped. I would argue that it is mostly about us having a chance to experience that pure joy that comes from doing it!
Rule # 2 I you run out of non-thrown-up-on towels, blankets, sheets, and rags, (which I have done before), the empty bathtub is a wonderful place to make a bed out of any cloth you can find (T-shirts are nice and soft and cottony).
It is times like these that I am grateful for a dryer! And then I start to think of people who have, and people who do live with sickness in cold places without stuff like dryers. And I think of times in winter when I have gone without a dryer, with several in cloth diapers. I remember my Grandmother telling about diapers hanging around the stove, and I am reminded of this book,
"The next year the twins were born. Fanny washed diapers and hung them on the stove, washed diapers and hung them across the mantel, washed diapers and hung them from the doorknobs." I've done this before. Actually, with sublimation things usually dry faster hanging outside, even when it is very cold, unless it is very foggy or snowy, rainy, sleety, oblecky, or "any other kind of precipitation"-y. I have even been able to dry stuff while it was snowing. The snow was so dry and powdery, and the wind was blowing so much, they (thankfully, I really needed them) dried at a speed comparable to the dryer I didn't have right them.
When I lived in a dry climate, I even successfully dried laundry outside for 2 weeks where the hottest temperature in the middle of the hottest day, was 1*. I think it has to do with the air circulation. Just like a fan will defrost your freezer faster because new air molecules have't gotten wet yet. Makes me wonder just how much better for you the air outside is compared to the air inside. It has been said that the reason we get sick more in winter isn't because it is colder, it is because we spend more time indoors because it is so hard to get kids ready to go outside!
After experiencing not having a dryer in the middle of winter, (with several babies in cloth diapers), more than once, I tend to lean heavily towards polyester fleece and polyester micro-plush (minky)
material to have winter clothes and blankets made out of. I often think of the pioneers freezing to death on the plains, and I wish I could send them a micro-plush blankie. I usually prefer natural materials like hemp, linen (made from your good old healthy flax plant), cotton,
and peace silk (I love silk!), but for warmth, softness, extreme durability, and washing and drying fast and easily, you can't beat polyester fleece or micro-plush! Did you know that not only can you cut fleece and not have to hem it to keep it from unraveling, but the same thing is true with micro-plush. As you cut it, lots of little bits that you have cut get all over, as the nature of the material makes you cut lots of little things as you cut it, but if you then wash it, and get all the extra cut little fuzzes off, it will never unravel more at all. So any pattern that calls for fleece, you can also use micro-plush (minky) instead. (And I think micro-plush is so much softer and nicer, and it doesn't get pilly and itchy as fast if you wash it a million times on hot because it got thrown up on!) Though the longer the knap, the itchier it tends to get if it is washed a million times. And unless it says so, it is usually only soft on one side.
I realized that I can send these things back in time, in a way. There are people right now, who are living just like the pioneers, and who could use plastic (polyester) blankets just as much! Not to mention homeless people in our own backyards, who could use an extrmely durable, extremely soft, extremely water resistant, extremely easy and fast to wash and dry (really cheep at the laundry matt - no extra quarters because it isn't dry yet), blanket!
If you want to make a cute homemade blanket that is easy to sew or even no-sew: http://www.wikihow.com/Make-a-Fleece-Tie-Blanket (If I were to use micro-plush
minky for this, I would make the fringe things slightly thicker. Micro-plush does shed a little as you wash it the first time, shrinking the size of things like fringes, but after that it won't ever unravel, just like fleece!)
http://www.projectlinus.org/
http://www.mcc.org/kits/blankets
The reason I like these places is stated so well on the "about" page of the Project Linus: "Provide a rewarding and fun service opportunity for interested individuals and groups in local communities, for the benefit of children."
There are lots of places where you can donate money, (lots of money), to help people, but even when there are so many people in the world who need help, I think perhaps we have gone too far in making helping efficient. There is something else there that is just as or I would argue, more important than how many blankets are donated. It is the person giving the blanket feeling it. If you just donate money, there is no personal connection. But if you spend time making something like a blanket, or a fleece hat, you have time to personalize it and to think about how the person who receives it will enjoy the personality you give it.
You can sometimes get micro-plush blankets for really cheap at a local store this time of year, as they try to sell out Christmas stuff before New Years. - I would buy the cheap blankets, and just use them as material to sew what I wanted.
http://www.marthastewart.com/265844/fleece-hats
(remember, when using micro-plush minky instead of fleece, cut it a little larger because it sheds that first time and looses a little around the edges - then it should never unravel at all again!)
Even better yet, make a bunch of blankets and hats (and anything else you can think of) and go find and visit homeless people in your own back yard. Then you don't have to just imagine their happiness. Giving isn't only about the person being given to being helped. I would argue that it is mostly about us having a chance to experience that pure joy that comes from doing it!
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
I think my son plays minecraft too much ;)
He WANTS coal in his stocking!
(He says he needs it to make steel. ;)
(He says he needs it to make steel. ;)
Last minute Monkey Christmas Present craft!
"Insect, insect, insect beams!"
We are experts at doing things last minute! When my daughter started band and choir at the local public school, school started at 8:05 a.m. On the first day of school, we walked into the store to buy her school supplies at 7:52 a.m. It only takes 7 min. to get from the store to the school, right?
So Christmas shopping is always cheaper right before Christmas. Significantly so. That is when we do all our shopping. (often it is not very crowded either). That way we can answer truthfully that we haven't gotten the kids anything for Christmas if they ask ;)
This year we put in an order from Amazon at 2:59 p.m. Thurs. and they got here tonight! We were outside when the Santa Claus truck came, so knowing they were the real Santa Clauses that go around the world in one night, I ran to the truck to get the boxes from them so they could take Christmas to more people faster, or at least get home to their families faster. That's the least I can do. They support Christmas so much!!!
So, speaking of last minute Christmas gifts, I love this idea my daughter came up with when she heard my little brother liked monkeys and she wanted to give him a monkey for Christmas!
I don't know what it is stuffed with, but it is just a sock with hair rubber bands on it! I thought it was so creative. The heel on the other side in the yellow is so cute too. Sorry I don't have a better picture!
Mistletoe for Freedom!
Help save Christmas for this family!
Buy unsubstantial mistletoe from them for $2.50
Their paypal: rbrow107@msn.com
and please turn this cause viral :)
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
My friends don't have very much money. Their kids have consistently been top sellers at the school when they sell candy and chocolates for fund raisers. So being creative and not wanting to get charity, they devised a plan to use their specific talents to raise money, as they made the world a better place. They would buy mistletoe in bulk and then make these cute mistletoe hangy things and sell them door to door for $2.50.
They were extra cautious not to disturb people if there was any sign they would not appreciate solicitors, and they were doing well, until the police got involved.
Apparently 11 year olds need background checks (think $400 for the family) in order to sell door to door, (unless of course it is for a big company using kids as child labor to sell their candy through the schools). We must keep the residents of our town safe!
They researched and tried to talk sense into the policeman, and were told they could come plead their case Monday.
They did yesterday, and were told in no uncertain terms that they would not be allowed to sell mistletoe without paying over $400! That is all they expected to make if they sold every last one!
"You're a mean one Mr. Grinch!"
I suggested selling online, but at this point they kind of are out of time.
So I would like everybody who reads this to help save Christmas! I got their paypal. It is
rbrow107@msn.com rbrow107@msn.com
If everybody who reads this buys some unsubstantial mistletoe from them for $2.50, we could show them how much the world really does care, and show the big business/government entity that we don't need them and their $400 background checks on 11 year olds. Also, even if you can't afford $2.50, if everybody who read this turned this story viral, we could spread the Christmas Spirit all over the world, giving people the chance to give.
("Money is like manure. You have to spread it around.")
I am actually really grateful for this chance. I have no money, and with so many kids, I have no time and even less energy. But I so love to give Christmas presents, so hopefully writing this post is my chance. How much fun for everybody to have the chance to help save Christmas, just by spreading the word. Wouldn't it be fun if they got the biggest Christmas ever!
Also, I was thinking that we could make mistletoe the symbol of freedom for the Christmas season! If everybody who was sick of being shot down when they try to rise from the mud of having to brownnose their boss or the govt. (or both) in order to be able to afford to follow all the expensive rules we deal with here (like keeping your grass mowed). If everybody who believed in freedom hung mistletoe, what a statement it would be. What a statement it would be to have mistletoe everywhere! (I'm thinking I'll hang ours in the car - it is poisonous to have around our "taste first, think later" house)
One year we had no money. (familiar story, lol) As I was leaving the store parking lot, I saw a man with a sign, begging. I had nothing I could spare, but we kept our loose change in the ashtray. I scooped up all of it, and gave it to him. It was probably less than a dollar. He said "Thank you, oh thank you, God bless you!" Knowing that God does answer prayers, even those, or maybe especially those uttered by homeless beggars, I wondered if God would bless us with some of the things we needed. Then I realized that God had already blessed me with what I wanted most. It is hard to be poor. I had nothing to give; no time, no energy, no money. I was even too tired to think straight, so I couldn't even give my wisdom. But the Lord had blessed me so lovingly with a chance to give to someone to whom less than $1 made a difference. Someone who was intensely grateful even for something so insignificant that I could give it.
Buy unsubstantial mistletoe from them for $2.50
Their paypal: rbrow107@msn.com
and please turn this cause viral :)
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
My friends don't have very much money. Their kids have consistently been top sellers at the school when they sell candy and chocolates for fund raisers. So being creative and not wanting to get charity, they devised a plan to use their specific talents to raise money, as they made the world a better place. They would buy mistletoe in bulk and then make these cute mistletoe hangy things and sell them door to door for $2.50.
They were extra cautious not to disturb people if there was any sign they would not appreciate solicitors, and they were doing well, until the police got involved.
Apparently 11 year olds need background checks (think $400 for the family) in order to sell door to door, (unless of course it is for a big company using kids as child labor to sell their candy through the schools). We must keep the residents of our town safe!
They researched and tried to talk sense into the policeman, and were told they could come plead their case Monday.
They did yesterday, and were told in no uncertain terms that they would not be allowed to sell mistletoe without paying over $400! That is all they expected to make if they sold every last one!
"You're a mean one Mr. Grinch!"
I suggested selling online, but at this point they kind of are out of time.
So I would like everybody who reads this to help save Christmas! I got their paypal. It is
rbrow107@msn.com rbrow107@msn.com
If everybody who reads this buys some unsubstantial mistletoe from them for $2.50, we could show them how much the world really does care, and show the big business/government entity that we don't need them and their $400 background checks on 11 year olds. Also, even if you can't afford $2.50, if everybody who read this turned this story viral, we could spread the Christmas Spirit all over the world, giving people the chance to give.
("Money is like manure. You have to spread it around.")
I am actually really grateful for this chance. I have no money, and with so many kids, I have no time and even less energy. But I so love to give Christmas presents, so hopefully writing this post is my chance. How much fun for everybody to have the chance to help save Christmas, just by spreading the word. Wouldn't it be fun if they got the biggest Christmas ever!
Also, I was thinking that we could make mistletoe the symbol of freedom for the Christmas season! If everybody who was sick of being shot down when they try to rise from the mud of having to brownnose their boss or the govt. (or both) in order to be able to afford to follow all the expensive rules we deal with here (like keeping your grass mowed). If everybody who believed in freedom hung mistletoe, what a statement it would be. What a statement it would be to have mistletoe everywhere! (I'm thinking I'll hang ours in the car - it is poisonous to have around our "taste first, think later" house)
One year we had no money. (familiar story, lol) As I was leaving the store parking lot, I saw a man with a sign, begging. I had nothing I could spare, but we kept our loose change in the ashtray. I scooped up all of it, and gave it to him. It was probably less than a dollar. He said "Thank you, oh thank you, God bless you!" Knowing that God does answer prayers, even those, or maybe especially those uttered by homeless beggars, I wondered if God would bless us with some of the things we needed. Then I realized that God had already blessed me with what I wanted most. It is hard to be poor. I had nothing to give; no time, no energy, no money. I was even too tired to think straight, so I couldn't even give my wisdom. But the Lord had blessed me so lovingly with a chance to give to someone to whom less than $1 made a difference. Someone who was intensely grateful even for something so insignificant that I could give it.
Monday, December 23, 2013
Bringing Home The Tree
I love Christmas trees! I love trees and all things alive (almost) and plants, but especially trees. They are my favorite animal. So I just love having a real tree in the house at Christmas time. I always felt bad that the tree gave up its life like a picked flower staying alive only from the water in the vase for a few days, in order to have this connection, in order to connect with and love us.When I was small, I used to dream of building a house with a porch around a Christmas tree, and then we would enclose the porch for Christmas morning, so we could have a truly live tree. I wanted a real, live not dying, Christmas tree SO bad, but I was told that that couldn't work - so I was happy to at least get dead flower Christmas trees. I never gave up on my dream, though.
Then, when I met my husband from "save the earth"-ville, he said what he always says, the perfect thing. His whole life growing up they had live, truly live, Christmas trees, that instead of chopping down a tree for Christmas, they planted one. Everything I find out about him, and I still am getting to know him better and better constantly. Everything I find out about him is always better than my wildest dreams. (but that's not why I love him - it just makes it easier to think of something nice to say to him to cheer him up.)
So it has always been especially special for us to get a potted tree each year at Christmas. I cannot say that this is infinitely better than chopping one down. I'm sure thousands of trees are planted each year because of the money people are able to make from cut Christmas trees. Tree farms must be wonderful places, and the whole life of the tree, until it gets to be the tallest most beautiful perfect tree that can only fit in the tallest part of the fanciest house, the whole life of the tree is spent making the world a better place and the air more beautiful, and I'm sure making the lives of those who work on tree farms infinitely better than they would be if they were otherwise stuck in an office or a plastic factory. Though I'm not against plastic trees, as they prevent trees from being cut down each year. I guess I'm only against disposable plastic trees, if there is such a horrible thing.
And not all of our trees have lived. We have never owned our own land, so we give them away, or go plant them on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere near other trees like them, so they will be happy and have a chance to live. We are saddened each time one dies. One time we had no money for rent, and had to move, so we just left our tree in the parking lot of the church with a sign on it for someone to please take it home and love it. But some we have gone back to find and to visit, and they are still alive! I just have to remember, it is not bad to die, it is just bad to kill.
And it is the idea. To me the tree is a living thing. Not just a living thing, but I connect more to it than I do to a person. I love trees! So whatever the best thing to do at Christmas for the greater good of the environment and the world as a whole is, I don't know. But for the individual tree that we get and love, to be loved and to at least have someone want you to live and go out of their way to have you live and to love you, being a potted tree is the best thing.
One year we were really tight on money, but it has been a tradition to get a live tree and it is my favorite part of Christmas. So the night before Christmas we went to the store, and they had a little tiny one in a pot the size of a cup, and it was on "we need to get rid of it before Christmas" sale, so we could afford it! (I think it was less than $1. That is when we can afford to go Christmas shopping! It is so fun!) We put it on top of our windowsill and piled the presents around, and that was the best Christmas!
So yesterday we drove to a little old lady's house way out in the country. The only place in town where you can get a living Christmas tree that will withstand the winter. My sister from out of town was like, "Where we live everybody gets a Christmas tree, so you can just get one in any old parking lot. It's weird so few people here get Christmas trees that you have to drive clear out here." Then she saw the trees and she was like "Oh! You mean a LIVE, live Christmas tree! That is so COOL!" :)
It was dark, and nobody was there, but we piled out anyway and tried to look at some trees by the light of my sisters phone, lol. I tied one baby on to me and had another on my hip, and then they saw the cat, and so they were happy. I love Christmas trees. I didn't want to become too attached to any one, because I knew we were only taking one home. But I stuck out my hand and let the pine needles brush me and could feel the tree. I used to climb trees all the time, and come home with my arms scraped and bleeding. I called them tree kisses.
So we listened to which tree was ours, counted our cash and thought of just taking the tree and leaving the money, but the lady showed up. (We hadn't known it was 10% off, so it was nice she came.) Then we brought our tree home. It was kind of like adopting a cat. Now it feels like Christmas! All the stress of the last year just disappeared and it was like we were celebrating the bringing in of the tree into our home. Celebrating the start of a living thing with us, like the start of the Saviors life. Whether we have presents or decorations doesn't matter anymore. They are still fun to do, but only for the fun of it. The real joy of Christmas is already within our home, and we don't have to do anything else to try to get it to come. We are having a Christmas, and those are just accessories, ones I really love and are my favorite things in the whole world, but not ones Christmas depends upon. I love a tree in the house. There is a certain feeling that comes into our home with it, like there is a certain feeling in a home when a baby is born. The kids played on it all day, having their fingers climb up it like little people climbing a giant redwood.
Then we sang Christmas carols to it all together as a whole big family, and there wasn't anything better in the world.
" In all our trials born to be our friend" - Oh Holy Night!
free
Little Women
free
Sunday, December 22, 2013
The Path
About 2 blocks from our rented ticky tacky cookie cutter house is some "unimproved" land owned by the city. It is a small hill. It is about half a mile to walk to the top of it. At the top, right before the "improved" land is where the city dumps all the yard waste. The presence of this hill, where we can go and play without park toys and grass telling us what to do, has saved my life. I can go out on it and look at the sky and breathe freely.
I was walking down it the other day in the dark, and I lost the little trail that our feet have worn into the side of it. I knew it was too cold for snakes or spider, yet I was looking for a trail. What happened to the me that would joy in the freedom of not having to look before I leaped. Why wasn't I running down the hill at top speed waving my arms unrestrained. I had always thought that the way people on the Titanic were portrayed was sad. If I was on a ship that I knew was sinking in freezing salt water, and we wouldn't all survive, I would have so much fun. I could do any dare devil thing I wanted. I could not only not put "safety first", but I could do away with it completely! I could swing on the chandeliers or jump from the railing and feel the experience of freezing cold water engulf my body! I would have so much fun!
So here on the hill, knowing that this time of year there really wasn't anything there that could hurt me, why was I looking for the path, like the old worn tame mommy that I am?
It reminds me of stories I hear about slaves who wouldn't be broken no matter how many times they felt their master's whip. I don't read stories about slavery to my kids very much. It just disturbs them too much, and I figure why focus on a bad thing. There are some beautiful books out there, like
Henry's Freedom Box and The People Could Fly
but I couldn't bring myself to read them to my kids - I didn't want to.
Then I was thinking the other day, especially with some of the older ones realizing what a not free world we live in, how what we really need is the wisdom and help of people who have dealt with the difficulties of a severe lack of freedom. I realized that stories from these now angels who could help us, these ancestors who fought the inner turmoil of freedom and the outer fight for the world. We need these stories and wisdom to get us through these times where the govt. tears families apart.
So we have been reading stories of hope.
Moses
Minty
Who Owns The Sun?
I went with Happy to the hill one day at dusk when it was so foggy you couldn't see 3 feet ahead of you. She trudged on ahead in her happy way, off in her own world of birds and leaves and fresh air. I love watching the joy she gets out of life. Not once did she wonder if she was going the "right" direction. When she came across the path, after walking sideways for quite a while, she just stopped, after mostly crossing it without noticing, and her boots first pointed up it, then back towards home, as the rest of her was obviously preoccupied with happier thoughts.
I was walking down it the other day in the dark, and I lost the little trail that our feet have worn into the side of it. I knew it was too cold for snakes or spider, yet I was looking for a trail. What happened to the me that would joy in the freedom of not having to look before I leaped. Why wasn't I running down the hill at top speed waving my arms unrestrained. I had always thought that the way people on the Titanic were portrayed was sad. If I was on a ship that I knew was sinking in freezing salt water, and we wouldn't all survive, I would have so much fun. I could do any dare devil thing I wanted. I could not only not put "safety first", but I could do away with it completely! I could swing on the chandeliers or jump from the railing and feel the experience of freezing cold water engulf my body! I would have so much fun!
So here on the hill, knowing that this time of year there really wasn't anything there that could hurt me, why was I looking for the path, like the old worn tame mommy that I am?
It reminds me of stories I hear about slaves who wouldn't be broken no matter how many times they felt their master's whip. I don't read stories about slavery to my kids very much. It just disturbs them too much, and I figure why focus on a bad thing. There are some beautiful books out there, like
Henry's Freedom Box and The People Could Fly
but I couldn't bring myself to read them to my kids - I didn't want to.
Then I was thinking the other day, especially with some of the older ones realizing what a not free world we live in, how what we really need is the wisdom and help of people who have dealt with the difficulties of a severe lack of freedom. I realized that stories from these now angels who could help us, these ancestors who fought the inner turmoil of freedom and the outer fight for the world. We need these stories and wisdom to get us through these times where the govt. tears families apart.
So we have been reading stories of hope.
Moses
Minty
Who Owns The Sun?
I went with Happy to the hill one day at dusk when it was so foggy you couldn't see 3 feet ahead of you. She trudged on ahead in her happy way, off in her own world of birds and leaves and fresh air. I love watching the joy she gets out of life. Not once did she wonder if she was going the "right" direction. When she came across the path, after walking sideways for quite a while, she just stopped, after mostly crossing it without noticing, and her boots first pointed up it, then back towards home, as the rest of her was obviously preoccupied with happier thoughts.
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