Yesterday, as I was driving home from dropping my daughter off at band - I am so grateful for the opportunity she has to be in band in the public schools. I love the idea of free public education, just when it's forced...
On the way home I drove by someone in his car who obviously had an annoying itch in his nose. I smiled at him my biggest smile because it is Christmas time and I LOVE Christmas and so I smile at people. And he looked scared that I had seen him with his finger anywhere near his nose. I live with a lot of little kids. A finger in a nose is the least of my scary "gross" things I worry about. I am just sad that we have created such a false utopian society for ourselves that innocent people are scared that everybody who sees them will judge them for something.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Saltine Crackers
So about a year ago when everybody was sick, we got a box of saltine crackers. Now everybody is throwing up again, and so I dug them out of the cupboards. They were so stale my husband wouldn't eat them.
When I was little, one of my favorite memories was grinding wheat with my mother. We lived in a humid climate, and so she put saltine crackers mixed in the buckets of wheat to keep the wheat from molding like everything else. As I used to dig through the wonderful feel of wheat heavy as it pressed down on my arms buried up to my elbows, I always thought it was a special treat to find a saltine cracker - something I'd never had the likes of before.
So I snuck and ate these saltine crackers, even though they are pretty gross as far as what is used to make them, and how they taste. At least that is what others say. They actually weren't nearly as stale as those ones I ate long ago. And what can I say, I love the taste of stale saltine crackers.
I remember one month, when my oldest was about 6 and I had 4 or 5 little kids, we decided to go a month without spending any money at all, which was easy to decide, since we didn't have any. We took turns that month grinding wheat by hand. They got very competitive about it. I was worried the novelty would wear off and I would be stuck, like so many other times, with 100 times more work to do and everybody else in the family thinking I'm a vending machine that can supply instant food at any time of day or night. But they kept at it all month and ground every single bit of wheat we ate. And there was this feeling that came with it, that you can't get any other way, this specifically special feeling of grinding our own food that went into our mouths. Some sort of connection that has so rudely been broken in our modern society, and then we wonder why we aren't happy.
Hand Grain Mill
When I was little, one of my favorite memories was grinding wheat with my mother. We lived in a humid climate, and so she put saltine crackers mixed in the buckets of wheat to keep the wheat from molding like everything else. As I used to dig through the wonderful feel of wheat heavy as it pressed down on my arms buried up to my elbows, I always thought it was a special treat to find a saltine cracker - something I'd never had the likes of before.
So I snuck and ate these saltine crackers, even though they are pretty gross as far as what is used to make them, and how they taste. At least that is what others say. They actually weren't nearly as stale as those ones I ate long ago. And what can I say, I love the taste of stale saltine crackers.
I remember one month, when my oldest was about 6 and I had 4 or 5 little kids, we decided to go a month without spending any money at all, which was easy to decide, since we didn't have any. We took turns that month grinding wheat by hand. They got very competitive about it. I was worried the novelty would wear off and I would be stuck, like so many other times, with 100 times more work to do and everybody else in the family thinking I'm a vending machine that can supply instant food at any time of day or night. But they kept at it all month and ground every single bit of wheat we ate. And there was this feeling that came with it, that you can't get any other way, this specifically special feeling of grinding our own food that went into our mouths. Some sort of connection that has so rudely been broken in our modern society, and then we wonder why we aren't happy.
Hand Grain Mill
Dancing in the dark
My one year old has a toy that only exist because of Grandma (we aren't big on blinky lights and batteries). He goes up to it, presses the button, and then starts dancing to his hearts content to the blaring "Mary had a little lamb" played in tasteless beeps. There is nothing like watching someone dance for the sheer joy of it. He noticed me watching him today, thankfully he is too young to have acquired that self consciousness that not only robs us of seeing this beauty in older kids, but of experiencing this beauty ourselves. I smiled at him, thinking in my oversaturated with parenting books mind that I didn't want him to start feeling self conscious and that if I made him think he was a good dancer, he would believe that, and continue to like dancing, and somehow this would free him from societies expectations. But I was wrong. He didn't like me caring about his dancing. He wasn't dancing for my opinion. He was dancing because he wanted to.
In so many schools, including colleges, they misrepresent arts as "forms of communication". I have always been annoyed by phrases such as "What message is this song trying to convey?" They even have it written into state law "You must teach these." You know those state standards for all robot teachers to follow. I've seen it in more than one state where under arts (we should feel honored that they even bothered to include something as "non-essential" as the arts in their robot manual, I mean it's not like entertainment is the USA's biggest export or something), it says that teachers must meet the standard of requiring the kids to "understand" (believe - do I smell forced religion?) that the arts are for communicating. This just makes me so mad. I love communication. I think it will make our world a better place. I want to study communication more. But my son doesn't dance to communicate, and neither do I.
What my daughter wrote when she was in kindergarten and they wanted to test her to see if she had learned the "purpose" of art:
"Art is to make you happy when you draw it so that when you see it you will remember how much you enjoyed drawing it and be happy - others will see how much you enjoyed drawing it and be happy too. (that's why people like looking at art.)"
Art is not a communication, but an expression.
- Smelling the butterflies
Dancing in the dark
The darkness encased
The ground felt
The air flowed
I danced.
The colors flowed
The light played
The motions knew
I drew.
The Ocean thundered
My breathe rushed
The joy exploded
I sang.
The mud oozed
The fingers told
The rain fell
I formed.
The soul broke
The tears flowed
The thoughts came
I wrote.
The wind touched
The sky beheld
The silence echoed
I ran.
The snow called
The emptiness fell
My soul drank
I climbed.
The stars shone
The heavens turned
The earth replied
I saw.
The heart told
The fingers still
The smile strayed
I dreamed.
In so many schools, including colleges, they misrepresent arts as "forms of communication". I have always been annoyed by phrases such as "What message is this song trying to convey?" They even have it written into state law "You must teach these." You know those state standards for all robot teachers to follow. I've seen it in more than one state where under arts (we should feel honored that they even bothered to include something as "non-essential" as the arts in their robot manual, I mean it's not like entertainment is the USA's biggest export or something), it says that teachers must meet the standard of requiring the kids to "understand" (believe - do I smell forced religion?) that the arts are for communicating. This just makes me so mad. I love communication. I think it will make our world a better place. I want to study communication more. But my son doesn't dance to communicate, and neither do I.
What my daughter wrote when she was in kindergarten and they wanted to test her to see if she had learned the "purpose" of art:
"Art is to make you happy when you draw it so that when you see it you will remember how much you enjoyed drawing it and be happy - others will see how much you enjoyed drawing it and be happy too. (that's why people like looking at art.)"
Art is not a communication, but an expression.
- Smelling the butterflies
Dancing in the dark
The darkness encased
The ground felt
The air flowed
I danced.
The colors flowed
The light played
The motions knew
I drew.
The Ocean thundered
My breathe rushed
The joy exploded
I sang.
The mud oozed
The fingers told
The rain fell
I formed.
The soul broke
The tears flowed
The thoughts came
I wrote.
The wind touched
The sky beheld
The silence echoed
I ran.
The snow called
The emptiness fell
My soul drank
I climbed.
The stars shone
The heavens turned
The earth replied
I saw.
The heart told
The fingers still
The smile strayed
I dreamed.
School of hard knocks
"It's a hard knock life!"
So I think the reason parents are tempted to control their kids is because you can either learn from others hard knocks or from your own, and they can't stand to see their kids get hard knocks. I understand this feeling. When my kids are fighting over something, especially when it gets physical and really mean, I am tempted to take the object away. Sometimes I do, while sarcastically scolding it. "Alligator, you are not being very nice, look you went and made Peaceful fight with Happy. You need to take a break until you can play nicer." When I am tired (always) and in survival get it done mode (always, except for when I am consciously trying really really hard not to be), instead of in teaching parent mode, I resort to the forced figure it out model of control. Stop the situation until they figure it out or forget it. I like to think that this is somehow superior than those parents who say "Sally gets the toy because she had it first!" or " Give the toy to the baby, he's younger!", but in reality, it's just because I absolutely hate being the judge! This is why I hate money. I don't want to have to choose who in this world lives or dies, and if you have money, you can save lives, but not all of them, so you are choosing. But even more so, you are choosing life for those whose lives you save, and maybe they would rather just have a color television for three months before they die, than have their life saved.
Anyway, I think that despite my need to think I am a superior parent, the kids would actually like it more if I played judge. Sometimes we do. I have another kid be the judge (hate being the judge) and we hold court and have witnesses and make fun of the whole thing and laugh a lot and over do it and the whole family gets involved and we use some poor stuffed animal as the hammer and by the end all you can hear is "ORDER! ORDER! ORDER!" and then someone orders French fries or another sibling because I have told them too many times when they say they want me to have triplets next with 2 boys and a girl (or something else specific, like hair color) - anyway, I am always telling them that I am not McDonalds and I can't take their order. It just doesn't work that way. Of course I go into the details of how the DNA is already set before I even know I am pregnant, but that is what comes from having scientists (unemployed scientists no-less), for parents.
Sometimes I'm quite certain that my kids would prefer to have a normal judge parent, because it isn't the toy they want, they want, like we all do, to be justified, to be right. If I would only just say, "OK, tell me what happened" and then listen and sympathize like my mom always did when I was growing up - she never did anything about it being my sisters fault, but boy I knew she understood my point of view of the situation and was on my side. If only I'd do that, then it would be worth any form of judgment or punishment.
Punishment is a weird thing. The way we define it, to differentiate between it and things we do do, like pulling a kicking screaming fighting kid off of another kicking screaming fighting kid, is that punishment is after the fact. So the fight is over, they've calmed down, and 2 seconds later are playing like they don't have the others teeth marks still wet on their arm, and then I'm supposed to prolong the fight and get involved and "punish" them to teach them that fights are so bad that we need to focus more of our precious time here on earth on them. "No! Don't play nicely now, I need to punish you!"
So, back to the school of hard knocks. When I am "on" - I've been a parent for over a decade of toddlers, and so I have had some few moments when I was actually "on" and followed what I preached online, lol! - When I am "on" I let them solve their own problems. I don't have a good solution for keeping the teeth marks from happening - so I fight too, and hold one kid (this isn't the part where I am "on"), and then the other kid has the item. And I watch the other kid skip off happily with the item, but not really, because here is where the hard knocks come in. This is what I am really trying to spare my kid from feeling by not allowing them to make choices. This is why I don't "let" my kid do anything bad. Because we are all human, we all have consciences, and whether he had the toy first or has the most teeth marks or not, he knows how his sibling feels. If I say anything, it is ruined. I have cheated him of knowing it isn't me he is pleasing, but himself. This is where the doubt comes in, as for some reason I tend to assume the basic instinct in humans is selfishness when it comes to tangible objects. But I am not happy when I act that way, so why should I assume the rest of the world, even my precious innocent kid, is somehow "more material" than my holier-than-thou self. And then it comes. Almost not wanting me to see, (so I look the other way), he comes back and hands the item to his sibling, and she smiles as one can only do from knowing they are loved - no toy can produce this smile - and then she says she doesn't really need it and hands it back to him, and they are playing again, just as intensely as before, and I don't exists in their own little world of intense immagination. And this is where I keep my mouth shut, because as tempted as I am to spare my child the agony of true sorrow for going against his inner conscience, I wouldn't steal his joy of reconciling his actions with the inner love we all have, for the world. And it is hard to hear this joy over the sound of loud praises, and "good boy" judgments, especially coming from someone you want to please as much as your mom.
- Smelling the butterflies
So I think the reason parents are tempted to control their kids is because you can either learn from others hard knocks or from your own, and they can't stand to see their kids get hard knocks. I understand this feeling. When my kids are fighting over something, especially when it gets physical and really mean, I am tempted to take the object away. Sometimes I do, while sarcastically scolding it. "Alligator, you are not being very nice, look you went and made Peaceful fight with Happy. You need to take a break until you can play nicer." When I am tired (always) and in survival get it done mode (always, except for when I am consciously trying really really hard not to be), instead of in teaching parent mode, I resort to the forced figure it out model of control. Stop the situation until they figure it out or forget it. I like to think that this is somehow superior than those parents who say "Sally gets the toy because she had it first!" or " Give the toy to the baby, he's younger!", but in reality, it's just because I absolutely hate being the judge! This is why I hate money. I don't want to have to choose who in this world lives or dies, and if you have money, you can save lives, but not all of them, so you are choosing. But even more so, you are choosing life for those whose lives you save, and maybe they would rather just have a color television for three months before they die, than have their life saved.
Anyway, I think that despite my need to think I am a superior parent, the kids would actually like it more if I played judge. Sometimes we do. I have another kid be the judge (hate being the judge) and we hold court and have witnesses and make fun of the whole thing and laugh a lot and over do it and the whole family gets involved and we use some poor stuffed animal as the hammer and by the end all you can hear is "ORDER! ORDER! ORDER!" and then someone orders French fries or another sibling because I have told them too many times when they say they want me to have triplets next with 2 boys and a girl (or something else specific, like hair color) - anyway, I am always telling them that I am not McDonalds and I can't take their order. It just doesn't work that way. Of course I go into the details of how the DNA is already set before I even know I am pregnant, but that is what comes from having scientists (unemployed scientists no-less), for parents.
Sometimes I'm quite certain that my kids would prefer to have a normal judge parent, because it isn't the toy they want, they want, like we all do, to be justified, to be right. If I would only just say, "OK, tell me what happened" and then listen and sympathize like my mom always did when I was growing up - she never did anything about it being my sisters fault, but boy I knew she understood my point of view of the situation and was on my side. If only I'd do that, then it would be worth any form of judgment or punishment.
Punishment is a weird thing. The way we define it, to differentiate between it and things we do do, like pulling a kicking screaming fighting kid off of another kicking screaming fighting kid, is that punishment is after the fact. So the fight is over, they've calmed down, and 2 seconds later are playing like they don't have the others teeth marks still wet on their arm, and then I'm supposed to prolong the fight and get involved and "punish" them to teach them that fights are so bad that we need to focus more of our precious time here on earth on them. "No! Don't play nicely now, I need to punish you!"
So, back to the school of hard knocks. When I am "on" - I've been a parent for over a decade of toddlers, and so I have had some few moments when I was actually "on" and followed what I preached online, lol! - When I am "on" I let them solve their own problems. I don't have a good solution for keeping the teeth marks from happening - so I fight too, and hold one kid (this isn't the part where I am "on"), and then the other kid has the item. And I watch the other kid skip off happily with the item, but not really, because here is where the hard knocks come in. This is what I am really trying to spare my kid from feeling by not allowing them to make choices. This is why I don't "let" my kid do anything bad. Because we are all human, we all have consciences, and whether he had the toy first or has the most teeth marks or not, he knows how his sibling feels. If I say anything, it is ruined. I have cheated him of knowing it isn't me he is pleasing, but himself. This is where the doubt comes in, as for some reason I tend to assume the basic instinct in humans is selfishness when it comes to tangible objects. But I am not happy when I act that way, so why should I assume the rest of the world, even my precious innocent kid, is somehow "more material" than my holier-than-thou self. And then it comes. Almost not wanting me to see, (so I look the other way), he comes back and hands the item to his sibling, and she smiles as one can only do from knowing they are loved - no toy can produce this smile - and then she says she doesn't really need it and hands it back to him, and they are playing again, just as intensely as before, and I don't exists in their own little world of intense immagination. And this is where I keep my mouth shut, because as tempted as I am to spare my child the agony of true sorrow for going against his inner conscience, I wouldn't steal his joy of reconciling his actions with the inner love we all have, for the world. And it is hard to hear this joy over the sound of loud praises, and "good boy" judgments, especially coming from someone you want to please as much as your mom.
- Smelling the butterflies
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Hold On to Your Kids: Why Parents Need to Matter More Than Peers
Hold On to Your Kids
There are few books and ideas that have helped me more than all the others. There are scriptures, the beauty of the books by Victor Hugo (Victor Hugo is my favorite, but I will drool over his individual books at some later point in time) Taking Children Seriously (TCS), Bonds That Make Us Free, and then this book. In other words this book is one of the BIGGEST significant books that have helped me in my entire life!
I think it is the things that confirm what I have suspected, but just couldn't nail down, that I like best. I had never heard of it before, but now I know I am a "developmentalist". Children are not born a certain way, nor are they taught to be a certain way, but they are like plants and grow according to who they are and their environment. What we teach kids isn't the important question, but what environment we give them to grow in and to learn and discover for themselves.
We have all heard of attachment parenting.
The Continuum Concept
Monday, December 16, 2013
How I Learned Geography
How I Learned Geography
Another absolutely perfect book:
Family relationships in the midst of fleeing from war are portrayed so well here. But it is a kids book - nothing really about war, just that it put them in the situation. The value of knowledge. I guess I love learning - I love watching discovery and when a person wants to learn something and their natural thirst for knowledge urges them on - and they learn so well in their own time and way. The sacrifices one is willing to make for knowledge, it is so beautiful! I guess I relate to it in a small way when a book is so much more important than food or sleep.
"He wrote in silence, but, oh! How loudly he chewed!"
Saturday, December 14, 2013
Green Christmas Present wrapping
A couple of years ago we came up with an idea to wrap Christmas presents
that didn't kill trees. I love wrapping Christmas presents and my family has
always gone overboard wrapping everything in the house that belongs to somebody
so they can give it to someone else, so wrapping paper has always been
precious. We usually spend more on it than on the presents. I remember as a
kid saving our coins and walking to the store all happy because we had enough
for another roll of cheap wrapping paper. Saving wrapping paper for a whole year
in a house that is full of curious rambunctious kids and is already crowded to
the point that we don't really have room for lots of clothes each, let alone
used wrapping paper from last year, gets hard - so it always drives me nuts to
see all the wrapping paper go away or even get recycled, besides it takes all
the fun out of the hyper chaos of Christmas morning to say "be careful to not
rip the wrapping paper". If I ever had to say that, I might as well not bother
to wrap up my old shoelaces tied in beautiful knots - it would take all the fun
out of it! So we ended up desperately wrapping presents in things like the cut
off legs of worn out pants that were stretchy and Christmas colors. This
actually worked so well that I think, you could make some stretchy wrapping
tubes that you tie on each end with pretty ribbon, and sell them to people to
wrap Christmas presents in year after year. I know that people use bags over
and over again to avoid the wrapping paper, but they don't quite give the "giant
pile of Christmas presents under the tree" feel, they are too easy for babies to
peek in or pull your presents out of whether you want to peek or not, and they
too get torn up around here...
It would be fun to make these out of old clothes. Ideally they are so easy
to make even I can make them and I don't sew. But making and selling them
locally would also be good for those who couldn't or didn't want to. Strong
solid stretch velvet colors work best and aren't see through when they stretch
like other stretch cloth and they look like royal gifts! If you are selling
locally or need new material:
sparkly tulle (yes, you will probably get sparklies everywhere):
I just sew a strip of tulle by each end to tie into a bow.
sparkly tulle (yes, you will probably get sparklies everywhere):
I just sew a strip of tulle by each end to tie into a bow.
stretch velevet
through
Fabric
Bravo (grouping them so you can maybe save on shipping):
Or Fabric Exchange:
Or if you want to spend more money and be fancy with beautiful glitter
(ShavaliFabric):
Stretch Velvet White With Silver Glitter
Stretch Velvet White With Silver Glitter
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