Category Archives: about me

January 2, 2014 · 8:55 AM

Front Doors, Turning 40, and My Goals for the New Year

This is my front door. It’s still bearing its little dollar store wreath, and it’s still surrounded with Christmas lights. With life being… well, life… they will likely still be there in April.

Why am I taking pictures of my door?

Well, I don’t do New Year’s Resolutions. I don’t do New Year’s themes, or choose a word or intention for the year either (another thing that seems really popular). My love affair with lists however, remains unabated and strong. I’m turning 40 soon. In 8 days in fact. And as I was adding to my growing list of things I wanted to do/try/start this year, in honor of turning 40, it occurred to me that what I really needed to do was to make my list exactly 40 items long…. one for each year I’ve been alive. And thus my “40 for 40” list was born.

I will share the list in its entirety soon, but today I wanted to share just one thing.

I decided to participate in this planner/art journal/creativity challenge called The Documented Life Project (want to join me? It’s not too late!) and the first week’s creative prompt was door-related. I’m still waiting on my Moleskine book from Amazon, so I can’t draw, sketch, ruminate about my door in there. So I’m sharing it here instead.

Most meaningful front door of my life. I “found myself” behind this door. We brought home the child that would complete our family through this door. We started a whole new life for ourselves in Arizona behind this door.

I’m going to turn 40 behind this door.

Doors, opportunities, and adventures. Happy New Year!

On Loving My Christian Neighbors

You know what really bugs me?

(This is where my husband would offer, “LOTS of things?” and I would roll my eyes and clarify, “Okay, you know what is really bugging me today?”)

Today, it is really bugging me that so many people choose to pour their time and energy into passing judgment on others’ lifestyles and – this is the part that bugs me – cloaking it as concern for their poor Christian souls.

I love God. Let me start there. With all my “heart, soul, and mind”. That’s Matthew 22:38, for those of you who like these things accompanied by scriptures. You know what comes right after it? “Love your neighbor as yourself.” And that’s where I, and I’d imagine lots of other Christians, often stumble. Sometimes it’s just damn hard work to love your neighbor. I mean, it’s easy to love nice people. And people of other faiths? Muslim neighbors and atheist neighbors and Jewish neighbors? No problem there either. People of different sexual orientations? Gay neighbors and straight neighbors and bisexual neighbors? Done.

But good grief. Loving my fellow Christian can be difficult.

I’m not your “typical” Christian, if there is such a thing. I don’t fit neatly into a box, and I get that. And non-box-fitting Christians often make other Christians … nervous. I get that too. Here’s what I don’t get. Why on earth would the way I choose to live out my faith bother you? To the point that you feel such an irrepressible urge to actually WARN me:

You should be careful with yoga. You’re opening yourself up to the occult.

Tattoos (or piercings, or any other form of personal expression that you find distasteful) are defiling God’s temple.

Any so-called Christian who lets their children play first-person shooter games is not a true Christian. Period.

As a Christian, I can’t believe you’d ignore the biblical instruction for corporal punishment.

Celebrating Halloween is honoring evil.

And overheard just this morning, again in reference to Halloween:

“Sugar-sprinkled poison is still poison.”

I could certainly go on, but those are the ones I hear most frequently, and with the most fervor. What it boils down to is a good, old-fashioned, “Shame on you, you bad bad Christian! You’re getting it all WRONG, and it’s my job to tell you.” It’s exhausting and irritating. And, like I said, not too helpful in my genuine quest to love all the Christians.

The thing you need to know is that my faith is strong. My mind can be changed about many many things, but not that. I am confident in my relationship with God, and I am confident that He loves me exactly as He created me. So while your genuine concern for my soul is touching – if it is in fact genuine – your efforts to change me in some way are really only serving to annoy me (and also to add fuel to the “Christians are just judgmental a@@holes” fire. So well played)

If your choices are not harmful to others, I will support your right to have them like crazy. Don’t want to celebrate Halloween? Cool with me. Don’t want to do yoga? Super. Don’t like certain video games? By all means, don’t buy them. Rather die than get a tattoo or a piercing? Your choice to make.

All I ask is that you extend me the same courtesy.

I’ll respect the message sent by your dark porch on Halloween. I won’t show up at your door with my zombie child, I promise. I won’t force you to do yoga. I won’t even make you look at my tattoos. I’ll just… love you. From afar, if that’s what you prefer.

Because here’s what I’m thinking. If, as Christians, our job is to get out into the world and spread God’s love, and we can’t even act in a loving way towards each other? Something’s not right. Pointing fingers and splitting hairs and damning people to hell over everything they’re getting “wrong” does no good for anyone. And let’s be honest, none of us are getting it 100% right anyway. We’re human. Gloriously flawed, imperfect, constantly growing and learning and involving humans.

And MY flaws and imperfections (and/or those things you perceive as my flaws and imperfections)? They won’t hurt you. Really. You’re okay. I’m okay. My choices are between me and God. He’s got this. He’s always got this.

No outside help required.

4 Comments

Filed under about me, acceptance, faith, God, hot topics, rant

August 19, 2013 · 6:00 AM

Asked and Answered

I recently put out a call for questions. Questions about unschooling, parenting, me, my blog, whatever you’d like … and you guys rose to the occasion! Here’s the first batch of questions and answers, and the first of what I hope will become a regular feature on my blog. If you have questions, send em, and I’ll answer them in an upcoming post. 🙂

I would love to hear some thoughts on how far to push little kids to do things? I know it would be age dependent, but I’m thinking ages 1-5 especially. Eg if a child is shy or scared or anti-social or clingy or negative about doing something where’s the line with making them do it, or respecting their feelings. Sometimes in life it’s good to do things we don’t want to. How do we help kids understand that?

I think this is one of those times that really knowing your kids is key. I personally wouldn’t push my kids into doing something they didn’t want do… but there is a world of difference between forcing something that’s unwanted, and gently encouraging when you know it’s something that they do want, but are hesitant because they are nervous, unsure, etc. Last summer, my daughter (four years old at the time) took her first-ever swimming class. She was very excited about the class, and about learning to swim. The morning of the first class however, she was super nervous, to the point of asking if she could skip it. I know my daughter, and I was 99% sure that once she got in the class she would really enjoy it. I was also 99% sure that if she didn’t do the class that she would regret it, especially when she watched her big brother having fun in the pool in his own class. So I was honest with her and told her, “I know you’re nervous, but I think you’re really go to love it. And you can do it! I bet they’re going to make it super fun for you, and I’ll be right there watching the whole time. Why don’t you give it a try this one time, and if you don’t like it, you don’t have to come back.” I wasn’t bluffing either: I would have had no problem pulling her out, and letting her learn in another way. She agreed to try it, and to make a long story short, she LOVED the class, and has since become a fish in the water.

Yes, sometimes we need to do things we don’t want to do, but life provides plenty of those opportunities all on its own. I don’t think it’s my job as a mother to actually provide the things they don’t want to do, but to help them feel safe, comfortable, and confident when they do arise. Going to the dentist for instance isn’t super high on any of my kids’ “Things I love to do” lists, but sometimes it’s necessary. So we searched until we found a wonderfully kind, patient, and respectful pediatric dentist, and no one has any issues seeing her when the time comes.

I don’t have a school age child yet, but am very interested in unschooling. I have been wondering if you felt you did anything differently with your children before they were school age. I’m reading a lot about the RIE philosophy and some of it seems to be in line with the basic idea of trust that seems inherent in unschooling to me. Thank you!

I learned something new when I got this question, so thanks! 🙂 I hadn’t heard of RIE, so I Googled a little bit. (This article had a nice breakdown of its main tenets.) I connect with a lot – not all – of the principles of RIE. I think that the ideas of trust, respect, choices, and personal autonomy are so important to both unschooling and gentle parenting. As for whether or not I did anything different when the kids were young… only to the extent that our relationships/activities/conversations grew and evolved as the kids got older. For me, unschooling was just a natural extension of attachment parenting, and it was all so organic that I never really had a feeling of, “Okay, we’re going to start unschooling now.” We already were… they just weren’t officially school age yet. I do strongly feel (and many others feel this way as well) that unschooling can’t be truly understood and implemented until the parenting component is understood. Once you “get” gentle parenting, unschooling just makes sense… and it’s a much more seamless transition than if you try to do it the other way around.

What advice would you give an unschooling mom whose 5 yr old is begging to start kindergarten?

Ask lots of questions! What is it that they’re wanting from school that they don’t think they’ll get/are getting from home? Is it more time on crafts? Riding a school bus? Being around other kids? Recess? It could be something really simple, especially at five years old. Most of my kids have at one time or another asked about school. After a conversation, careful listening, and honest sharing, I learned that it wasn’t school they were after, but something else. Something that I could remedy through more playdates, more field trips, more one on one time, etc. If that were ever not the case, and they truly wanted to go to school, I’d like to think that I would be 100% supportive and let them try it. I can’t say with complete certainty though, because I’ve never been there (and if I’ve learned nothing else as a parent, it’s to never say “never”)

(on being a Christian who does not regularly go to church) I’m wondering how you keep the faith? How do you keep your relationship with God fresh and alive? Have you found a community, a “body of Christ”?

I love this question. I have been thinking for a long time about writing a permanent page for my blog about my faith, and about where that journey has taken me. I will say first that my faith has always been super personal to me. Not personal in an I-don’t-want-to-talk-about it kind of way (I love talking about it), but personal in that I’ve never really felt like I needed a strictly “Christian” environment in order to nurture my relationship with God. In fact: I grew up going to church, went to a Christian summer camp, went to a Christian college… and those were all things that I had to heal from in many ways as an adult. I felt like my faith was so much stronger, and finally my OWN, after I left those environments. We do have a church “home” now, although it’s been many months since we’ve gone with regularity. We love the church though, and it was the first one that we ever actually chose to place membership with since we’ve been married. When we feel like it’s something we’re needing, we go, but on a day-to-day basis, I don’t know… I feel like it’s just me and God, and that relationship is no different than any other in that it stays alive with attention, with intention, and with spending time together (and you don’t have to be in a special building to do that :))

One thing that’s been hugely instrumental to me in the past several years has been finding like-minded fellow “outside the box” Christians, most of whom I only know online. While I don’t feel like I technically need the support of others to hold up my own faith, it’s incredibly helpful just to know that they’re out there: other people like me who fiercely love Jesus, but pretty steadfastly reject most of what conventional “religion” has to offer… Everyone from big authors/bloggers like John Shore, to dear personal friends that I’ve made through various online FB groups and forums…they’re a very appreciated breath of fresh air (and sometimes just straight-up oxygen), especially on those days when I’m feeling alone.

So our kid is 3 and we are starting to get questions about Kindergarten. I am scared to death to tell some people what we are planning!!! It does not help that I work FT and my husband stays at home with our son, which already gets enough looks as it is because it is so different. I am just scared in a year or two we’ll get people calling CPS on us or something. Some of our family is very academically minded and I am just afraid they will think we are setting our son up for failure or something. I’m just not good at confrontation. I know all the answers ‘in my heart’ but I know when accosted about it… I just don’t know quite how to deal with it. How do you deal with that type of thing, esp when you first kid ‘missed the bus’ (haha) for the first time.

I completely know how you’re feeling! I was there myself several years ago. I was fairly lucky in that even though many of the people in my immediate family were not particularly supportive of unschooling, they kept pretty quiet about it (save for a passive aggressive comment here and there). One of the most helpful pieces of advice I ever read on the subject was something called the “bean dip” approach, a completely non-confrontational way to deal with naysayers. I wish I knew where I read it, and who said it, so I could give credit, but all I remember is that I read it on some unschooling forums many years ago. It goes like this:

Family member: (Negative/derogatory/judging comment)

Response: “Oh, he’s doing great! Can you please pass the bean dip?”

“This is working really well for our family right now. Can you please pass the bean dip?”

“That’s an interesting perspective. Can you please pass the bean dip?”

Politely changing the subject can work wonders. Honestly though, the biggest solution to this problem is just time. Two really big things happen over time:

1. Your kids learn and grow and mature in ways that can’t help but be seen, even by those outside your family. They’ll see how much they’re learning, and they’ll have tangible “proof” of unschooling’s success. And

2. You’ll gain confidence in your kids, and confidence in the process. It won’t be so scary when others disagree, because you’ll trust unschooling, you’ll trust your children, and you’ll trust their learning process. In the meantime, focus on your own little family, and be ready to pass the bean dip. 🙂

I read that you almost went to the Rethinking Everything conference and I’d be interested to read a post/answer on conferences you’ve went to in the past and how you think they benefited you and your kids.

I really love unschooling conferences. I find them sort of terrifying, just because… well, introverts and large crowds… but I love them too. We’ve only been to a handful so far, but definitely plan to attend more in the future. We’ve gone to three of the big conferences (two in San Diego, and one in Alburquerque), and a few smaller ones. Conferences are really cool for lots of reasons, but if I were pressed to name only a few, they would be:

1. New information. You can’t go to an unschooling conference and not learn something new. You can’t. I don’t care who you are, or how long you’ve been unschooling. We’ve all learned so, so much from the conferences we’ve gone to… both from the official scheduled “talks”, and incidental interactions we had along the way.

2. New friends. Some of my nearest and dearest friends are people I met at conferences. The 12 year old is playing an online game with a conference friend as I write. And there’s something big to be said just for being around other people who “get it”, even if it’s only for a weekend. Which brings me to:

3. New inspiration. In case you didn’t get this from reading other posts on my blog, I am hugely passionate about unschooling. But while my normal mode of sharing may be quietly standing on a street corner (or typing in my pajamas that I’ve been wearing for two days, sitting on my couch as it were) saying, “Yay! Unschooling!”, immediately following a conference it’s more like standing on the rooftops shouting,

“WOOO HOOOOOOO!!!! UNSCHOOLING!!!!!!!”

They just get you pumped up, and fired up, and EXCITED about unschooling.

All of that to say, if you ever get the opportunity (and you should make the opportunity) go! You will love it.

Sounds silly but what pets do you guys have now? I miss your funny animal posts!

My husband and I disagree on exactly two things: politics and pets. If it were solely up to me, we would have to build a second house to hold all the cats/dogs/rabbits/rats/reptiles we’d acquire because I so love animals, and can never resist a rescue-able furry (or scaly) face when I see one. If it were up to Mike, we would have zero pets. Ever. Rescued from anywhere. So we compromise. Right now, we have just a few pets – although the kids and I are holding out hope for a turtle in the near future.

There’s Sophie, who with the exception of jumping, and sometimes peeing, when she gets too excited, is the world’s most perfect dog.

Then there’s Linny and Ming-Ming, the two mice I picked up with the kids one day when Mike was at work:

And finally, our ball python Waldo, who is sweet and funny, and loves to hang upside-down from his branch:

And that’s it! We have about 1900 square feet of house here. Clearly there’s room for so very many more….

Thanks to everyone who have sent questions so far! That was fun.

4 Comments

Filed under about me, faith, parenting, pets, Q and A, unschooling

August 8, 2013 · 11:52 AM

Eight Things and Twenty Years

Yesterday, Mike and I celebrated 20 years of marriage. Twenty years is a long time. And as is often the case on these monumentous occasions, I’m finding myself doing a lot of reflecting, reminiscing, and nostalgic wallowing. It’s funny though (funny in a happy, delightful, life-is-full-of-surprises kind of way) because none of the defining characteristics of my life right now are anything close to what I would have envisioned or hoped for twenty years ago. In fact, in the grand tradition of the detours in life being far better than anything you might have planned, my life is in many many ways the total opposite of what I would have mistakenly chosen for myself.

Here are just eight points – of dozens – that I would never have believed if you’d showed them to me on a crystal ball on that day I said “I do” twenty years ago.

1. Living in Phoenix – I was a country girl, spending my formative years on 30 acres of animals and trees and trails. For most of my life, I would have found the idea of living in (and driving in) one of the highest populated cities in the country TERRIFYING. We lived in Worcester, MA for the first six years of our marriage, and I didn’t particularly enjoy it … so … Phoenix??? But that’s where we landed, and we’ve found happiness here. Neither one of us thinks we’ll stay here forever. We’d like to move north a little bit out of the city eventually, and I am still a country girl at heart, but we love Arizona, love the desert, love the openness, and love the life we’ve created here. Moving to Phoenix was one of the single best and most defining decisions we’ve made for our family.

2. Being a Stay at Home Mom – Before I first got pregnant, I never wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. It sounds strange to say that out loud, given the importance of the role it’s played in my life for the past 16 years, but I didn’t. I never actually thought about it really… just assumed I’d have a great job that I wouldn’t want to leave, and would get right back to it after a standard-issue maternity leave. But God had other plans for me, and I am so thankful for that!

3. Being a yoga teacher – Yoga wasn’t on my radar as a young newlywed. I was aware of the existence of yoga of course, but that was where it began and ended. I never thought about yoga, was never interested in yoga, never tried yoga. Besides, I was going to have some fancy, high fallutin’, big deal career. When would I have time for the training?

4. Homeschooling – Yeah. Homeschoolers were, you know, weird and stuff. I would never.

5. Parenting – Here’s the parenting knowledge I had before I actually was a parent: I knew that I wouldn’t be the kind of parent who would pick my kid up every time he cried. Or “give in” to a tantrum. Or the kind of parent that would wear my baby or sleep with my baby (these kids need to learn to be independent!) I wouldn’t be the kind of parent that would breastfeed in public, and I most certainly wouldn’t breastfeed a child who was old enough to be walking and talking. Yes, I knew a lot back then.

6. Dreadlocks – And four tattoos (and counting..) and a nose ring. Nice girls didn’t do those things. But guess what? I’m still a nice girl. And I like myself a whole heck of a lot better, because I realize now that you absolutely and unequivocally cannot categorize people by their outward appearance.

7. College – Nice girls DO finish college. It was important to my parents, so by extension it was important to me. But again, God had other plans for me. My one college regret? It’s not that I didn’t finish. It wasn’t the right path for me. No, my only regret when it comes to college is that I wasted as much time and money on it as I did. I do occasionally think of going back sometimes (to further my studies of the things I realized I was passionate about after I left college) but if it’s not in my immediate future, that’s okay too.

8. Marriage itself – It’s strange. It’s not that I didn’t think we’d be married for twenty years. I did. It’s just that it was through a young, naive, theoretical filter. Almost like life was a fairy tale to be observed rather than lived. “Of course we’ll be married in twenty years! And life will be beautiful and lovely and we’ll all live happily ever after…” I didn’t take into account the fact that sometimes life could be sucky and difficult. Or that we’d go through phases when we didn’t really like each other very much. Or that growing up and “finding yourself” whilst simultaneously being a wide-eyed, innocent, and broke (oh so broke) newlywed was hard. Would one or both of us have bailed if we really knew what marriage meant, especially those first ten years? I don’t know. I hope not.

But I know this: Twenty years in, I feel like I “get” marriage now. Not as much as I’ll get it in another twenty years, or even another ten years. But I get it. It’s harder than the fairy tale, that much is true. But my marriage, much like the rest of my unexpected and wonderful and beautiful and crazy life, is also better than the fairy tale.

So, so much better.

Here’s to the next 20 years, and whatever detours they may bring.

Slowing Down

My kids are my greatest teachers.

One of the biggest lessons that my daughter has taught me (and continues to teach me, again and again) is to slow the heck down. Breathe. Live in the moment. Forget about life’s distractions. It’s strange to me, an introverted homebody, that this is a lesson I would so desperately need to receive over and over… but I do.

The past two months have been incredibly busy ones, and I’ve sort of prided myself on rising to the occasion. Keep moving. Keep checking. Keep doing. Go, go, go. I’ve become very adept at taking care of Very Important Things while simultaneously tending to other Very Important Things. Is it weird to balance your checkbook sitting on the wings of the community pool while your kids are in swimming lessons? Or work on your grocery list while waiting for your son in physical therapy? I don’t know. But I’ve been doing them both, in my – mostly successful – quest to stay on top of everything when I’ve got a million balls in the air. Can’t stop moving. Can’t drop the balls.

This morning Tegan got up early. Well, it wasn’t exactly early. It was 8:00. But that’s early for her lately, because she’s been staying up late, and sleeping in the next morning. Which works out well for me, because it gives me plenty of time to work on my ever-growing to-do list before anyone gets up. But this morning she got up at 8:00, and in her sleepy little stupor, immediately sprawled herself out on the couch. I knew she was about to fall back to sleep, so I asked her if she wanted me to get her blanket.

“No,” she told me. “Come back to bed with me.” Her eyes were nearly closed already.

“You want to go back to bed?”

She nodded with her eyes closed. “Yes, but I want you to come with me. Come lay with me.”

I knew if I waited about 30 seconds before I got up that she would just fall back to sleep again on the couch. I also knew that it was a moment I wouldn’t get back.

“Come lay with me.”

My first instinct was to grab my tablet (I’d been catching up on emails) so that I could use it in bed after she’d fallen asleep, but I knew she wouldn’t like that.

My daughter.

My need to do. all. the. things.

I acted before I could debate it. I left my tablet on the couch, and walked her back to bed. I tucked us both in, her little body happily curled against mine. It was only a matter of minutes before she was asleep, her head heavy against my arm, her breathing deep and even.

I slowed down.

I breathed.

Her timing was, as always, impeccable. In many ways, life is about to slow down for the next month or so. Swimming is officially over, ballet ended for the summer last week, karate ends on Saturday. And with so many of my clients with travel plans, even my yoga class has taken a hiatus for at least the next month. But because this is, well, the real world, in many ways life is about to pick up as well. Lots of plans, lots of projects, lots to do.

But not this morning. Not right now. There’s a place for stillness too. A time to slow down. A time to breathe. I laid with my sleeping girl for a long time, savoring the moment, drinking in the lesson.

Slow down.

Breathe.

After she woke up, we hung out in bed for another hour, to-do list be damned. We watched TV, read about 7 Dora books, and talked about the important things moms and daughters talk about. I snuck out of the room just once when she was asleep, but I came right back.I just had to take a picture, to remind me.

2 Comments

Filed under about me, kids, learning, life, mindful parenting, not sweating the small stuff, parenting, Tegan

July 15, 2013 · 10:12 AM

the kids, the housework, and me.

It’s a series of questions I hear a lot. A lot a lot:

Do you really not require them to do chores? Do they still help around the house? How do you get them to help?

Yes, I really don’t require them to do any particular chores. Yes, they all still help around the house. As for the last question: It’s the wrong question. It’s not about getting someone else to do what you want them to do. If something isn’t working, it’s about changing what you can change about you, and letting the rest fall as it falls. But I’ll get back to that later.

Not too long ago, I had a bit of a breakdown (and a resulting breakthrough) when it came to housekeeping. I’ve admitted this here on my blog more times than I can count, but I’m not the most naturally tidy person out there. I pretty much make a mess everywhere I go. For most of my adult life, I’ve tried to make peace with that. I thought the answer was to embrace it. Messes are good! Messes are happy! Life is a mess! And while I still agree with that when it comes to many, many things, I finally faced the fact that I personally function so much better when my home – my haven – is running smoothly. When things are organized. When my desk is tidy. When my counter is shiny.

The problem was, none of that was happening. Nothing was running smoothly. Nothing was organized. Nothing was tidy. Nothing was shiny. My own house was a source of stress, and a big one at that.

I eventually realized that 1) This was MY issue. (Well, mine and my husband’s, but he already works like 17 jillion hours a week outside the house, and contrary to popular belief can’t always put out my fires too) 2) Making desperate, impassioned, embarrassing speeches begging people to help me didn’t work… and made us all grumpy in the process, and 3) The only person I had the ability – and the right – to control was me.

So I decided to do something.

Borrowing and adapting ideas from both Flylady and Motivated Moms, I started digging my way out. (“Borrowing” and “adapting” instead of flat-out following because I took what worked for me, and chucked the rest, with no apologies. Put on shoes in my own house?? What kind of crazy crap is that?) I started with baby steps, and am gradually working my way to household sanity. My own personal 12-step program for slobs. I didn’t do it to prove anything, didn’t do it for anyone else, didn’t do it for any other reason than because I wanted to. As with any other new habit, the first few weeks were ~~painful~~ difficult, but now it’s all second nature, AND my house doesn’t stress me out anymore.

This is the daily plan that works for me (your mileage may vary):

Tegan sleeps in our bed about half the time. If she’s in her bed, the first thing I do when I get up is make the bed. (Otherwise, I just do it later) For most of our marriage, the bed’s been unmade. I sort of never saw the point, if you’re just going to unmake to get into it again. But lo and behold, it’s really really nice to come into a pretty and freshly made bed every night. If your home is your haven, your bedroom should be your haven’s haven, right? Plus, it gets me in the “tidy-up” mood I need for the rest of the morning. So I take the time to do it. It takes approximately 8 seconds and makes a huge difference.
Next I go into both bathrooms, and grab the toilet brush. Quick swish of the toilet, and then a quick wipe down of the sink/counter/mirror with a damp cloth. Two minutes.
On the way to the kitchen, I stop at the closet to grab a fresh dish towel. It’s nice to have a fresh towel every day… and plus there’s that whole issue of kitchens being germier than bathrooms. Which is gross. So a new towel it is.
I start the pot of coffee, because I must. While it’s brewing, I:
Empty the dishwasher
Run a broom just over the kitchen/dining area
Wipe down the counters, stove, and sink
Put any stray cups, etc, from the night before in the dishwasher.
If there’s laundry to do, I’ll throw that in then too. (I’ll fold it later with a cup of iced coffee and Netflix to keep me company)

BAM. Ten minutes from the time my feet hit the floor and I’m ready to sit and enjoy my coffee and answer my emails.

The only other thing I do housework-wise consistently every day is spend 15 minutes (yes, I set a timer) on cleaning … something … whether it’s putting toys away, tidying up the living room, or working on decluttering. I’m convinced that getting rid of the superfluous “stuff” in the house is one of the biggest natural highs in the world. Right now my big project is the room that was originally built to be a formal dining room that has since become a computer room slash play room slash dumping ground slash all-around thorn in my side. It’s not where I’d like it yet, but it’s looking a lot better, 15 minutes at a time. 15 minutes is nothing. I could easily spend four times that much watching TV, or working on a blog post, or ::cough:: checking Facebook.

One day a week, I do the bigger jobs:

Properly clean the bathrooms
Sweep the whole house
Mop
Vacuum
Dust
Clean end tables, etc
Change everyone’s sheets
Take out the trash

The whole thing takes about an hour, less if the kids help me. And speaking of the kids: Last night after dinner (because he likes to give me real-life examples for my blog posts without even realizing it) Mike asked Everett – 9 at the time of this writing – if he’d take out the recycling bins. Spencer does it more often than not, but his shoulder is still not quite up to it. So he asked Everett. And that’s how it works… no more complicated nor more simple than just … asking. As is the case I’d say, oh, 75% of the time, Everett said “Sure”, brought his plate up to the sink, and went to get the recyclables.

20% of the time, the answer is “Sure…” followed by a, “when my show is over” or “after I finish this level”, or “in a little bit.” And 5% of the time, they decline. Because they’re too tired, or busy, or just plain choose to opt out.

In the past, that 5% caused a huge problem. But not because of the kids. Because of me.

The kids don’t exist to be at my beck and call. We’re a family… we’re all equals here. We’re on the same team, the kids and me. I knew all of that intellectually, but until I’d fixed my own messed-up relationship with housework, my words might have been asking, “Would you please help me with xyz?” but everything else about me was screaming, “Kids! Help me with this unpleasant task that I don’t even want to do myself! I’m going to frame it like it’s a question, but I’m going to get all grumbly if you say no. Stupid housework. Stupid messy house. If I could just get some HELP every once in awhile, instead of doing it all myself. Grumble grumble grumble….” I mean seriously, would you want to help that person? Once I’d adjusted my own frame of reference, it changed everything, and that 5% became a non-issue. Now when I ask, I’m honestly asking, and if the answer is “Not right now” or “No thanks” or “Can someone else do it?”, I’m cool with that. Because things are running much more smoothly overall, it’s not a big deal for me to do most of the cleaning projects myself… and it’s also not a big deal for others to pitch in: sometimes when they’re asked, and sometimes just because they want to help. And it should go without saying, but it’s also a whole lot more pleasant to deal with housework in general when it’s with someone who’s calm and cheerful about it instead of, well, stressed out and scary.

Most days, I’m honestly happy to do housework now. It feels good to create and keep a nice space and a happy unschooling “nest” for my family. It’s easier to find things and work on our various projects, and I’m no longer stressed out by all the inevitable – and often necessary – messes. Messes are easy to clean when they’re made on a fresh canvas. It’s the messes that fall on top of messes on top of messes that are overwhelming. Am I always cheerful and happy about cleaning? Well, no. This is the real world. And some days the best I can do is recognize that it’s a necessary part of life, and something I can still choose to do without complaining. And on “those” days? The rare days when I’d rather stick a fork in my eye than pick up a broom or handle a dirty dish or run one more load of laundry? I give myself the day off, and I don’t feel guilty about it.

Do I think my kids are going to be stellar housekeepers when they’re out on their own? I have no idea. I’m not nearly as concerned with how they “turn out” as I am with their living in a happy, cohesive, peaceful household right now. If I had to guess, I’d say that it’s largely just a matter of personality, and how they’re individually hard-wired. Some of my kids have always loved to keep everything around them neat and tidy… and some have always been, well, more like I was as a kid. And neither is right or wrong until or unless THEY decide it’s right or wrong in their own life.

I do know that they’re finally able to see and experience a mom who is happy to do it, to do her best to take pride in, and take care of this place we call home … humble though it may be. And on a deeper level, a mom who recognized a problem within herself and is taking steps to fix it.

Surely that’s got to count for something.

7 Comments

Filed under about me, family, learning, organizing, unschooling

July 8, 2013 · 2:32 PM

On Being a Quitter

I stand in front of you a quitter, and an unabashed one at that.

Just a few of the bigger things I’ve quit in the past couple of decades:

I quit college when I realized it wasn’t the right path for me. I was going to college for all the wrong reasons (mostly having to do with other people’s expectations), and I realized that I was spending a lot of money on a degree that I didn’t actually want, and certainly didn’t need. So I quit.

I quit my job to become a stay-at-home-mom. This one surprised me, because prior to getting pregnant with Spencer I took for granted that I’d just take a maternity leave and head straight back to work. But then I got pregnant and I suddenly knew – with 100% certainty I might add – that I was meant to stay home. I KNEW. And that was it. So I quit.

I quit going to a church that wasn’t meeting my needs. People leave churches for all kinds of reasons, and I was no exception. There were many many factors at play for sure, but the main one was that it eventually came to light that the particular church we were going to made me feel like I was getting further away from the loving nature that God would desire from me, rather than closer to it. So I quit.

I quit living in a place that no longer felt like “home.” Again, lots of factors. And an undeniably huge decision, especially since it was one that affected a family of five (soon to be six). I’d tried to make it work. I did. But we weren’t happy, and we needed to be somewhere else. So I quit.

Perhaps more important than any of the above, I quit letting other people’s opinions matter more than my own. I quit letting others have a definitive say in what path was or was not right for me. Of what did or did not constitute success. Of what I would try or what I would start… or what I would discontinue or what I would stop… or when, or where, or for what reason. I quit letting others tell me what my parenting should look like, or my marriage should look like, or my faith should look like. I quit letting my worth be defined by my mistakes, and I quit letting my breakthroughs be overshadowed by my failures.

I hear so much today about kids and quitting, and what we’re really teaching them if we “let” them quit the baseball team that they no longer enjoy, or the Sunday school class that isn’t what they were expecting, or the violin lessons that were never their idea in the first place. They need to learn to see things through to the end! They need to learn to persevere in the face of adversity! And the thing is, when they feel confident and safe and supported, they will learn both of those things, when it’s important to them. Forcing a child to finish something that is no longer right for them may very well teach a very different lesson than the one you’d intended.

Sometimes I think that letting your child know that there are times when it’s not only okay to quit but that it’s sometimes GOOD – and healthy and smart – is one of the most important things you can ever show them.

4 Comments

Filed under about me, life, parenting

June 22, 2013 · 6:00 AM

10 Really Nice Things About Facebook

My first Facebook profile picture. May 2008.

Almost immediately after posting my 10 Things That Drive Me Crazy About Facebook post, I thought, “Since it’s a love/hate relationship, isn’t it only fair that I post the “love” side as well?” Otherwise, I’m only telling half the story. Here then, in no particular order, are my ten most favorite things about Facebook, and the reasons that I keep sticking around, duck faces and all.

1. It helps me find my “people.” I don’t fit in in a lot of places. To be more accurate, I don’t fit in most places. But thanks to groups and pages on Facebook, I’ve been able to find other people who get it. People who get what it’s like to be a Christian who’s judged by other Christians for not being a conservative Republican (or really, for not being a conservative anything). People who get what it’s like to be very much alone in most Christian circles for things like being a strong advocate of gay marriage. People who get not just unschooling, but radical unschooling. People who get gentle parenting, and people who get the difference between gentle parenting and permissive parenting. People who get and accept ME… in all my weird, perfectly imperfect, God-loving, life-learning, free-thinking, system-bucking glory.

2. It’s reconnected me with people from my past. Whenever I think of my past, it’s with a strange sort of disconnection. It’s not that I had a bad childhood or adolescence (I didn’t, at all), it’s just that I always felt like more of a passive observer than an active participant. I didn’t know who I was, or what I was doing, or what I wanted really. Since I barely understood myself, my connections with others were… limited. So it’s been really really cool to reconnect with people from my past… from old high school classmates (some of whom I barely knew), to people I used to go to church with, to relatives I haven’t seen for 30 years… and to be able to get to know them through newly found adult perspective and experiences.

3. It’s an introvert’s dream mode of communication. Seriously. I get to decide who’s at the party that is Facebook. I can make people go away with one little click of a button. I get to decide how often I check in, and when, and for what purpose. If I’ve had enough, all I have to do is close my laptop. I can sit back and just listen and watch and observe as much as I want, and I only have to talk when I want to talk. And the best part is, I don’t have to physically “talk” at all! For someone whose preferred mode of communication is the written word anyway, it just doesn’t get much better.

4. It delivered an unexpected apology. When I was 15, I had a boyfriend named Bobby. Though there’d be other boys after him, until I met my now-husband Mike, Bobby was always “the one”. The one that got away. The one that I’d measure all future guys against. When he broke up with me, it was the kind of heartbreaking teenage devastation so severe that I felt like I’d just Never. Get. Over. It. Squashed me like a bug. Alas, I did eventually get over it, and happily (if with some battle scars) went on with my life. About four years ago, we briefly – and innocently – connected on Facebook, and in the ensuing conversation I got something I never ever ever thought I’d receive: An apology for those hurts so many, many years before. Would the sun have continued to rise and set if I’d never gotten it? Of course. But I’ll tell you what… unexpected apologies are pretty wonderful things, even when it’s for something that happened 24 years ago. Even when it’s for something that’s been long ago forgiven.

5. It makes me smarter. Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t go so far as to say it actually makes me smarter, but, dang… I have a lot of interesting friends who post a lot of interesting things. Things that push me, and challenge me, in the best possible way. Articles that make me think. Videos that make me cry. Blog posts that make me feel inspired. I mean, sure, it’s got plenty of mind-numbing drivel too… but in between the grumpy cat pictures and the Ryan Gosling “Hey Girl” memes, there’s some good good stuff to be had. It’s a veritable and unending stream of up to the minute information.

6. It gives me immediate answers to my questions. I try really hard not to use it for this purpose too often, because I figure it’s probably fairly annoying, but I LOVE that I can post a question – whether it’s for a recommendation for a local thai place, a confusion I have about WordPress, the best organization app for Android, or anything in between – and immediately get a dozen responses. Last night, Tegan was playing with some of her Disney princess figurines, and didn’t know what two of their names were. I uploaded a picture, and within minutes had my answer (Aurora and Tiana, in case you were wondering.) That there is just plain awesome.

7. It makes me laugh. I don’t always want to be challenged or inspired or moved. Sometimes I just want to see, read, or listen to things that make me laugh. Facebook provides that in spades.

8. It lets me know I’m not alone. I think that sometimes (or often) all we really need is to feel connected. To feel like we’re not alone. Yes, even us card-carrying introverts. Facebook can be invaluable in helping to fulfill this need. A couple of clicks and a few strokes of the keyboard, and we’re there. Someone’s listening, and someone understands. I have 500 something friends on Facebook, and it honestly comforts me just to know that at any given time, someone has been through whatever it is I’m going through… whether it’s the frustration of ongoing physical pain, or the heartbreak of seeing my children hurt in any way, or just the day-to-day struggles that come on the journey of being a mom (and a human). Someone gets it.

9. It keeps me in touch with far-away family. My parents and my sister and her family all live here in Arizona. Everyone else – from Mike’s entire family to all my extended family of aunts, uncles and cousins – all still live on the east coast. Thanks to Facebook and their posts, pictures, and updates, their goings-on are here on my computer every day, which is the next best thing to actually being together.

10. It’s an outlet. For many many years, I kept a journal. I really don’t anymore, at least not with any regularity, but that need to just… purge.. is still there. I don’t believe in therapy, and I intensely dislike the phone. But if I feel a pressing need to immediately get something off my chest, and no one’s around to listen? Facebook is there.

And really, that just sums it all up… when it comes right down to it, Facebook is always there.

(If you haven’t yet read the things that drive me crazy about Facebook, you can find that here.)

1 Comment

Filed under about me, Facebook, random

May 7, 2013 · 12:56 PM

The One About Fear

Me? I’m scared of everything! I’m scared of what I saw! I’m scared of what I did! Of who I am! Most of all I’m scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way that I feel when I’m with you.**

Day 7, Tuesday: The thing(s) you’re most afraid of.

I try really hard not to live in a place of fear, and for the most part, I succeed. It’s interesting, because I see a lot of fear coming from those new to unschooling and gentle parenting…. everything from the fear of television rotting their brains, to the fear of them never learning what they “need to know” to be successful in life, to the fear of them not learning to respect authority if they’re never punished.

I don’t share those fears, but I’m not without my skeletons.

In no particular order:

I’m scared of something bad happening to the people I love the most. Once you let your heart walk around outside of your body, the thought of something happening to that heart …. I don’t even have the words for it.

I’m scared that my shoulder will never heal properly, and that I’m going to be in chronic pain for the rest of my life.

I’m scared of heights, but not like a normal person. I LOVE the idea of things like hang-gliding and parachuting and sky-diving, and would love to try any of the above one day. But looking over the railing of the fourth floor of a mall? Terrifying. I actually find places with railings far more scary than those without, mostly because I think about what it would be like if I was balanced on top of the railing… or if I accidentally climbed over it (which for the record, has not happened once). My husband thinks I’m weird.

I’m scared of cancer. Too much of it in my extended family.

And finally, I’m scared of birds… and really, any flying creature much bigger than a housefly. Butterflies and birds are lovely and everything, but have you ever noticed how unpredictable and FAST they are?? One minute they’re sitting all sweetly on a branch, and the next they’re darting and diving and zigging and zagging. And don’t even get me started on bats. They look like mice with fangs, and they FLY?? It’s just…. wrong. I was attacked by a rooster once as a kid. That may or may not be related.

So deceptively sweet…

And finally (I said that already, didn’t I?) I’m terrified of motorcycles. I witnessed an awful and gruesome accident once that I’m sure played a role, but I’m pretty sure I was scared of them even before then. I get and respect that other people love them, but the idea of being on a vehicle that’s going that fast, with NO sort of protection around me? I’d rather hold a bat. Balanced on top of a railing. On the ninth floor balcony of a hotel room … which, by the way, is the floor we were on in Florida. And I actually sat out there to drink my coffee every morning, thankyouverymuch.

There may be more, but those are the handful that always come to mind when I’m asked. Some of my biggest fears.

And this is the part where you make me feel better by telling me you can relate to at least one or two.

** I’m having a giveaway next week. First person to name the movie that quote is from gets an extra entry. **

(Photo by Doug8888)

11 Comments

Filed under about me

May 6, 2013 · 8:16 PM

What I Do

Day 6, Monday: If you couldn’t answer with your job, how would you answer the question, ‘what do you do’?

Last month when we were in Florida, we took a day-long tour of the Everglades. Shortly after we got into the van with our six fellow-vacationers, our guide (a fun and enthusiastic Floridian by the name of Rick) asked us to go around and introduce ourselves to the group. Mike and I were sitting in the very back seat, so I was the last to go. As I listened to everyone pretty much give their resumes, I wondered what I would say. They were all talking about jobs, and I hadn’t worked for an outside job in over 16 years. Even when I did, I was never really defined by it. It wouldn’t have occurred to me to mention it when I introduced myself, even back them. So what would I tell them? I would tell them I was a mom, of course, and maybe even that I taught yoga – mainly because it’s still relatively new, I worked hard for it, and it still gives me a little thrill to say it out loud. I like to think of myself as a writer, but I wouldn’t tell them that.

Mom and yoga teacher. That would be fine.

And it was. They all appreciated that I was a mom, especially when I said that we had four kids, and that we homeschooled. The yoga was a hit too, as it launched Rick into a funny story about how he took a yoga class to impress a former girlfriend and that it hadn’t ended well.

But are any of those things what I do?

THIS is what I do:

I make mistakes, and I hope to learn from them.

I laugh, often at myself.

I cry, just as much happy as sad.

I make grand plans, and I dream big dreams.

I start things I never finish, and finish things I never imagined.

I sometimes struggle and sometimes soar and sometimes sink and sometimes swim.

I breathe, in and out. I fall down, and I pick myself up.

I do real.

I do love.

I do LIFE.

Really, isn’t that what we all do?

1 Comment

Filed under about me, life

Category Archives: about me

Connect With Me

Archives