A Letter at Christmas, AND a Promotional Discount!

I've calculated that since giving birth to my first child six and a half years ago, we've celebrated Christmas with kids six times, and acknowledged twelve birthdays. I did the math: that's eighteen opportunities for our loved ones to give gifts to our kids. That's three sets of grandparents, five sets of aunts and uncles, plus the gifts we give.

So the question is: how do you politely request certain kinds of gifts for your children? We have been blessed by many grownups that love our children and don't ever want to seem ungrateful. It's just that after so many years, I have had to discard so many cheap plastic/battery-powered toys, or worse, toys that cost lots of money BECAUSE they were battery-powered. They still break. We're overwhelmed with boxes of stuff our kids don't really play with, or those toys that have so many parts it's impossible to keep them together.
About four or five years ago, Mothering Magazine featured a letter that could be sent to friends and relatives well before the holidays to polite state your intentions for your children. I've always felt a bit unsettled about sending it...like I was being difficult, or a toy snob, or taking the fun out of the mad consumerism of Christmas. But I think this is the year.


After visiting a friend's small and beautiful home, I was inspired to take things in hand. The limitations in space demand that her daughter's toys are well-chosen. A few baskets of Waldorf toys (play silks, wooden tree blocks, felt fruit and vegetables, a little wooden play kitchen, and so on). I breathed of sigh of peace at the sight of these beautiful toys. My children HAVE toys like this. But they're so bound up with all the other "stuff" that they're hard to find.

So, upon returning home from her house, I fired off this email:

Relatives and Friends,

I'm just thinking ahead to Christmas (and the many birthdays ahead of us) and the INSANE amount of toys we have in our house. I would like to gratefully acknowledge the wonderful gifts you've given over the years, and respectfully request a certain "kind" of gifts this year. We're working hard at simplifying the "stuff" in our house, and are ditching a lot of toys that have broken over the years, or requires constant battery changing, or was brought into the house from yard sales, thrift shops, etc.

We just have too much; the kids don't even know what to play with anymore, pieces have gone missing, and we're always struggling to keep the toys in order.

Order her at www.babynaturopathics.com

So, as we attempt at achieve a bit more order in our busy house, I'd like to ask you to consider checking out www.babynaturopathics.com or www.naturalpod.com which are both Canadian businesses that support handmade/natural toys. We'd LOVE to build a collection of Holztiger animals (available at the first site)...we love the farm animals, daughter, farmer, and princess/queen/king/etc. kind of figures. Natural pod carries "Baby Bolga baskets" which would be so handy for the kids as they wander on their adventures (eggs, berries, apples, beach treasures!) , as well as beautiful coloured play silks (which are marvellous for dress up and imaginative play).

Visit http://www.naturalpod.com/ to order!

Please, no plastic toys this year, or toys with tons of little parts that will get lost...there's no need to spend tons of money on wooden stuff; a lot of the items I've mentioned are around $10.

Find this beauty of a marble run on etsy!

If you enter the code KnittyGritty11, you'll get a 5% discount, and so will I!

Kirk's wife Erin grew up near my hometown; they're good people. Support real craftspeople!

Jude is really into experiments and building stuff; we hope to get him a wooden marble run on etsy (made by Erin Egan's husband, Kirk); he already has a microscope, but would probably love a magnifying glass, or a small aquarium/terrarium, or anything that allows him to keep things from nature to study! He also loves drawing and music as usual.

Other ideas include: an amaryllis bulb that they can watch bloom in the winter months, gift cards to a bookstore, a bug-viewing kit, art supplies, or camping gear (a flashlight, an enamelware cup and bowl), contributing towards lessons or classes, or just making a date to spend time together!


I hope no one thinks me rude...this is the desperate plea of a desperate mother; I really want to pare down the amount of stuff in our house and have found through experience that the toys my kids keep returning to are the open-ended, natural ones...they feel nicer, last longer, encourage imagination, and don't need batteries or make annoying noises. They are made by hand, with little or no impact on the earth. These are the values we hope to pass on to our children, and hope you can help us!


Thank you for reading through all these mama thoughts of mine, and for respecting our request!


With all that said, please know that our children do not expect gifts; they do not keep track (nor do we!), and always remember the joy of being with loved ones when they talk about Christmases past.

We so appreciate your role in our children's lives, and appreciate the love you show them by choosing gifts thoughtfully.

With gratitude,
Stephanie

When I mentioned in yesterday's blogpost that I'd written this letter, several people commented on my courage. It's less courage (because it's taken me six years!) and more that I really, really want to stop stepping on sharp plastic toys. I want to feel peaceful when I see my children's toys. That, I hope I can achieve with words.

If you're feeling similarly fed up, and possibly courageous, please feel free to copy or adapt my letter! You can replace the Canadian sites with others (I also love Nova Natural Toys in the US!), or tailor it to reflect your child's interests.

It is time to do more than THINK about making change. I'm the person who picks up messes and has to dispose of broken craptastic toys (with the eco-guilt that entails). So I'm taking charge of what comes into my house. I should have done it years ago, but I'm starting now instead!

something in the air

Can you feel it?

There's a chill in the air that has me wearing socks in the evening, and snuggling up closer to my husband at night. It has me wearing a sweater out to the chicken coop in the early morning, and craving the tastes of autumn.

I know. It's still summer. Technically. But the temperature in the evening is just a few degrees shy of woodstove-weather, and I find myself leaning eagerly towards those cozy fall evenings of reading and knitting in the kitchen.

For now, I will settle for a taste of something I don't make in the heat of summer:

Soup.

Today is our CSA pickup day, which means I have to use up last week's produce to make way for fresher fare. Three chairs pushed up to the island, three little paring knives, and at least three admonitions to be careful!

Celery is an easy thing for small hands to slice.

Mama cuts the onions to save little eyes from more tears than usual.

Carrots...

and zucchini are all added to the pot, sauted in coconut oil, with salt, pepper, and basil, till tender. Add six cups of stock, 3/4 cups yellow split peas, and 1/2 cup of rice. Simmer for 45 minutes, then whiz up till smooth. I have a feeling my children will proudly eat this soup without complaint, since they had a hand in its creation.

Their cooking zeal was not quite quenched, so out Jude went to gather apples from our old tree. With much paring and carving out of brown spots, we had enough to create a crisp topped with flour, brown sugar, rolled oats, cinnamon, and butter.

When the older two headed out to gift the chickens with all our seeds, peels, carrot ends and onion tops, someone was left behind to ensure that the apple crisp spoon was not neglected. Let no spoon go unlicked is her motto in the kitchen.

Lest you think, "Oh, her life is so idyllic! Her children are so responsible! She always says yes when her kids ask to help!", let me just add that Violet cut herself while slicing an apple, and wept, "I can see my skeleton! I can see the inside of my body!" (it wasn't quite THAT deep, but this girl does have a flair for the dramatic), and Jude protested mightily (for over an hour) when I confiscated his knife after I caught him wielding it, machete-like, over an innocent apple). We talked again about safety, and he announced that I am the meanest mother in the world for NOT letting him cook.

Still, the mouth-watering scent of apple crisp cooking on this cool evening more than makes up for the tears and the mess and the patience  required when cooking with children.

The Waterhorse Sweater

If you've ever spent time in Ireland, England, or Scotland, you'll know that the only things keeping you from dying of consumption are:

• peat fires
• whiskey or Guinness
• a densely knit wool sweater

It's wet in this part of the world. That famous green comes with a price: rain, fog, and mist, and lots of all three. There's a reason sheep thrive in the British Isles: their wool is warm, even when wet.

My husband's grandfather, in England, 1940s? The resemblance between this man and mine is astonishing. Note his beautiful sweater!

When I watch movies set in any of these places, I enjoy the scenery, the accents, the ruddy-cheeked men in tweed caps...but mostly, I enjoy the handknits. Think Molly Weasley's Christmas gifts to Harry and Ron, or the little wool caps and scarves Hermione wears. Think of Lucy's little cardigan when she meets Mr. Tumnus for the first time in Narnia. Think Nanny McPhee's charges during that beach picnic.

I have a fantasy of being an on-set knitter, recreating period knits for actors to wear.
So I practically drooled while watching "The Waterhorse" (based on the novel by Dick King Smith of "Babe" fame), set on Loch Ness during the Second World War. Forget that it stars Ben Chaplin (squee!), or that the little boy in it resembles my son with his dark hair, pale skin, and freckles.

Yarn posing with some wartime-era player piano rolls...

This little boy wears handknits! Lots of them, in varying shades of wartime grey. Sweaters and vests, in nearly every scene.

My young man has grown since I last knit him a sweater, so I have set out to make him what I've been calling his "Waterhorse Sweater". I'm making it up as I go, recording what I'm doing, so if it turns out, I'll share the pattern here.

I'm making it with a really rustic Canadian yarn, Briggs and Little "Heritage" (processed in New Brunswick), in a grey and white twist. Jude declares it a "little bit itchy", but I expect it will soften up with washing. The price is right, and I can buy it at our local feed and farm supply store!

Using Elizabeth Zimmerman's "Knitting Without Tears" as a guide, I've made the body from the bottom up, and have one sleeve done (from the cuff up). Once the second sleeve is done, I'll join them all in the round to create a raglan sleeve; the collar is something I'm picturing but have no name for. You'll see it when it's done. It buttons on an angle (along one raglan seam) with a split turtleneck collar that flips down...anyone? What is this called?

The appeal of knitting this way (checking your gauge, taking bits and pieces that you like from various sweaters, measuring your child as well as a favourite garment that fits about the way you hope your sweater will fit!) ensures that you'll get what you're hoping for. I try it on Jude as I go, and can decide to add a few inches here or there to accommodate his rapidly growing limbs. Note the tall drink of water that his great-grandfather is...his dad is the same way. Chances are, as the years go by, I'll just have to add inches to the cuffs and hem, and the width will fit just fine!

*Some of you may be wondering about Jude's Scrap Cardigan, started so many months ago. I started having visions of him becoming a social pariah at school, a la Dolly Parton in "Coat of Many Colours". I know. I should let him be an individual. But on the way to school, he asks me, "Do I look cool today, mom?" (with his Batman socks pulled up to his knees, his astronaut t-shirt tucked into his shorts, his sticky-uppy hair...) I always answer, "Of course!" If he was begging me for the sweater, I'd do it without hesitation. But as it grows more stripey and colourful and outrageous, he seems less and less willing to try it on for fittings. I'm not going to be one of those moms that says, "I slaved over this and you're going to WEAR IT!!", thus condemning my child to being known forevermore as "that geek in the itchy rainbow sweater". Yes, if I'd scrounged the yarn from ravelled old sweaters and he depended on the sweater for warmth, he might have to suck it up and wear it, like it or not. But we're not THAT broke. I'd rather make him something he'll wear and love. Enough said.

I Choose Love

Fear has many disguises. It is a shape-shifter. On any given day, it can appear in my life as

• rage
• disgust
• anxiety
• judgement
• anger
• self-loathing
• negativity
• despair
• grief
• hatred
• defensiveness

The list could go on and on. But these are the guises in which fear most appears in my life. I once read that all human emotions can be divided into two groups: fear, or love.

Think about it. When you have that knot of anxiety (for me, it's in my upper abdomen/solar plexus; in my husband, it's his teeth that hurt when he feels anxious), poke at it a bit. Like your tongue probing the gap left behind by a just-lost tooth, it's a bit morbid to explore pain; it hurts. But it's hard to stop yourself, too.

If you just breathe through it, like breathing through a contraction, you'll see that surface emotion beginning to unfurl, revealing the base of it all.

Fear.

I'm tired of feeling fearful. Fear of the future, fear of not having enough money, fear of being "stuck" here with my children all summer without a vehicle, fear of something bad happening to my loved ones, fear of being clung to and depended on, fear of failing, fear of succeeding, fear of being overweight for the rest of my life, fear of not fulfilling my potential, fear of clutter.

Did I say I'm tired of feeling fearful?

I'm EXHAUSTED. It takes a lot of energy. That fear needs feeding and daily nurturing. It needs negative self-talk. It needs the encouragement I give it when I give in to it.

I read the book I mentioned above (I can't for the life of me remember its title) when I was in the newest stages of love with my husband. We read it together, and marvelled at the simplicity of it:

Choose love.

Choose love.

There have been moments in my life as a wife and mother where I scoffed at the over-simplicity of that concept. Sure, I could choose love when I made enough money to cover our cheap rent, when I had time to exercise and meditate, when the future lay ahead of us like a treasure map. Like the bloom of first love, it faded into the mediocrity of every-day-living.

There's just so much more to fear now, with three little people depending upon me, with my heart walking outside my body in the form of my children.

But I've recently come to realise that all of the things I long for: a peaceful, clutter-free home, harmonious children, a passionate and connected relationship with my husband...are within my reach.

When I get angry at my children, it is easy to blame THEM: they're aggravating, they make too many messes, they are so DEMANDING!

When I am frustrated with my husband, it is easy to blame HIM: he's forgetful, he's self-centred, he doesn't earn enough money, he doesn't take care of his car.

I'm tired of all this blame. I'm remembering something I once knew:

It's not them. It's me.

I'm afraid. Mostly I'm afraid of not having control in my life.

But I've made a decision, because I've remembered in a deep place within my soul what once made perfect sense to me.

I have a choice.

Starting today, I choose love.

I choose love.

So Long, Farewell...

"I don't have time to (enter activity of choice)".

Exercise. Cook healthy meals. Play with my kids. Paint my bedroom. Put in a garden.

What? When did this happen? I LOVE these activities. Or at least, I used to, before blogging and commenting on the blogs of others gobbled up some of the most precious commodity in every mother's life: my time.

I need to centre in on my real life for awhile. I came to this conclusion last August when I wrote this post. I was inspired by the brave decision of my friends at Twig and Toadstool to step away from a space they'd nurtured and loved when it became clear that their real lives were suffering. Remember "Childhood Magic" and how shocked we all were when she closed her wonderful blog? I wonder how she's enjoying her life and time these days...I imagine she LOVES it. Nicole at Frontier Dreams wrote about this very busy-ness today. I have also been deeply touched by this heartbreakingly honest post over at Apples With Honey.

I feel myself floating away from the mother I want to be. I want to be engaged. I want to be in the moment. I want to breathe through those moments (and there are many) of impatience and anger. I want to sit and have a tea party with my daughters for hours if they so wish it, without glancing away in distraction. I want to build Lego robots with my son.

I love that feeling of flipping the page of a calendar and seeing that the coming month is mostly blank. You can choose to fill up every square, or make a solemn promise to carefully consider your yeses for the month.

After a month of birthday craziness, I flipped the calendar to June.

Case conference. Stag and Doe. Stag party. Shopping for weddings. Wedding rehearsals. Friend's wedding. Brother's wedding. Birthdays. Class trip. Kindergarten graduation. Grade 8 Graduation. Report cards due. School Fun Night. Assemblies. Gigs. Doctor appointment. Anniversaries. Data due.

Oh. My. Goodness.

How can we possibly have writing on 26 of the 30 days in what is already a busy month in the home of two educators?

So. I'm taking the phone of the hook, so to speak.
If you're a new visitor to this space, please read through the archives, or check out some popular posts (by clicking on the buttons at the right). If you're an old friend, you can email me by going to my profile page. I also highly recommend those wonderful women over on "Kindred Spirits" roll.

July is looking good. Two music gigs. One bellydancing gig. Kittens due. A birthday and an anniversary.

Bring on July.

(*haha...I had to take a deep breath before I hit "publish post"...but as with any great leap, I know the fear will soon be replaced with relief that I just did it...there). Phew.

The Wonder Times

In the quiet of the early morning, I slipped outside in my nightgown, rubber boots, and a cozy sweater to hide a few more eggs before the children awoke.

When I came back inside I was struck by the peace and quiet in this sunrise-lit space. So often it is cluttered, surfaces covered in spills and crumbs, yarn and toys. So often it contains the whispers of princesses conspiring with the pirate chief, the cries of wounded feelings, the loud negotiations for a coveted toy. This is truly a Living Room. It is the place where we play, rest, create, argue, veg out, make music, read stories, cuddle, and imagine. It is so rare that it looks this serene and orderly.

Eggs added splashes of colour here,

and there.

Magical creatures

and a guardian frog kept watch over the Easter treats waiting for my children to wake up.

Soon, we all ventured outside. A quick reminder to the oldest child to let the littler ones find some eggs, and they were off with shouts of glee and discovery.

This oldest child is always so considerate of his little sisters, guiding them to where the eggs were hidden.

The littlest one shows off her Easter booty!

Watching them, I was aware of the fleetingness of this time in our lives, when all three of our children "believe"; they have heard no rumours of whether or not our magical friends really exist, and as of yet, there are no arguments about what an older kid told them about these invisible purveyors of Christmas gifts, Easter eggs, and tooth money.

These are the Wonder Times, and, like that rare quiet moment alone in our Living Room, I have the good sense to pause and truly enjoy them.  

I know they won't last forever.

Snow Day

Mother Nature decided that I was not to attend Seedy Sunday today. The snow is so deep that a third of the farm gates are sunk in the white stuff. The van is stuck. The lane way has not been plowed.

When I look out the door on a day like this and ignore the hydro lines and road signs, I can imagine how this place might have looked 100 years ago, blanketed in a quiet cover of clean, beautiful snow. I think about how life just went on for our foremothers; they stoked up the fire, tended to the animals, and nestled in for another day of preparing meals and mending.

So, I am choosing to see this snow day as a gift.

I have extra time to create some order in this house, and prepare food for the upcoming busier-than-usual week. I can spend some quiet time with my girls (Jude's off down the lane way to be picked up for a birthday party). I can maybe snuggle on the couch for a moment with my man.

Maybe we'll go on a deep-snow adventure, or create something pretty. I am so thankful for this day of grace.

GratiTuesday

I know that by the time most of you read this, it will be Wednesday. But I'm writing it on Tuesday, and GratiWednesday just doesn't have the same ring to it.

So often I notice things for which I'm grateful. "They" say it's a good practice to write down a gratitude list every evening, just to count your blessings and to shed a light on how sweet life is. I'm never great at the regimentation of doing the same thing EVERY night, so I'm going to start with Tuesdays. Just because GratiTuesday is such a fun thing to say.
Here's my random, off-the-top-of-my-head list:

::finding eight eggs in the henhouse BEFORE they froze.
::another two inches on my socks!!
::kids in the early morning:

::the ornithologically comical loveliness of wild turkeys!
::pretending we're underwater or in outer space while driving in the van
::Jude's drawings of aliens shooting lasers out of their eyes
::the smell of my niece's neck when I kissed her there today
::my new journal and the sequel I've been waiting for...

::Jude's freckles (this somehow always makes my list)
::a little pile of kindling and bunched newspaper, left by my husband to ease starting the fire
::the hats worn by all the ladies in a 1950s photo of my Grandma at a Catholic Women's League convention!
::finding my bellydance groove again after all these years
::rosey cheeks + runny noses = kids who've been playing in the snow
::a naked toddler after her bath, all damp skin and wet curls
::giggling aloud in the bookstore at this:

Might have to add this to my birthday wish list!

::being able to catch up on some bills with an unexpected gift of cash

::planning what to bring on my upcoming retreat: a weekend of women being artistic together!

::my husband taking over the bedtime routine so I can blog/write/rest/read/knit

::Violet wearing my coin belt and shimmying around the house

::these incredibly whimsical socks from Vogue Knitting, Winter 2010/2011, designed by Lisa Whiting:

There. I'm overheating from the woodstove right now so I'll stop there. In your comment, give me 3 things you're grateful for today. Next week I'll try to get a linky Widgety thingy up so you can share your links! Maybe we can get this GratiTuesday list going on a weekly basis!

Handmade Holidays: Down to the Wire!

Inspired by Amanda's Solstice pyjamas, my friend Maureen and I created these Christmas pjs over two craft sessions. On the first night, we sewed the pants (perhaps a tutorial in the New Year?); the stitch ripper got some exercise, but Maureen diligently learned to put in the waistband elastic!

Our second session involved creating matching tops, using plain shirts and fabric paint. I realised after painting the apple on the white shirt below that the seeds are NOT that close to the skin, but I doubt Violet will notice! I'm really pleased with the way Jude's dinosaur turned out!

These slippers were inspired by this post! I'd been hanging on to this whimsical felted wool sweater, unwilling to cut it up until I found the perfect project...turns out this was it! It honestly took about 30 minutes to make this one slipper! I can't give them away, so they're my handmade gift to ME! I just love them: the fit, the colours, the little crocheted cuff...they're just so sweet! They'll definitely be on my New Year's "to make before December 2011" list!

Another lovely idea that is QUICK involves turning vintage women's watches into photo-bracelets. I saw this in a magazine years ago and would give credit if I had the slightest notion what it was. But I don't. The picture of my hubby (on the right) was taken in the first week we met, and the baby niece in the other photo is now twelve, so that should give an idea of how long ago I made these!

10 years ago you could find these old watches relatively cheaply at thrift stores and yard sales. Just remove the back plate, trace it onto a photo, place the photo in and replace the back. Voila! These look so lovely and charming when worn together in a group. The patina and unique details of these vintage pieces of jewellery rival any "fake vintage" stuff out there. Ask your mom or grandma if they have old watches kicking around...

And last, possibly most insanely, but definitely not least:

Quite belatedly, I decided to try my hand at some Waldorf-style dolls for my girls. We're cleaning up some old thrifted furniture (doll bunk beds, cradle, and rocking chair), and I've sewn some doll-sized quilts. Naturally, the only thing missing is a pair of dolls! We have your usual garden-variety craptastic dolls, given to us and picked up at yard sales over the years. None of them is a favourite with my girls, but somehow they continue to multiply. I've decided to get rid of them all! They have no charm, no spirit, no personality!

Using a tutorial I found here, combined with previous doll-making experience, I sat down last night to craft the heads. I'm really quite happy with how they turned out; they look friendly without simpering, sweet without being saccharine. Of course, those little quiffs on top of their heads make them look like Casper the Ghost (as my ever-observant hubby pointed out)...so now the challenge is creating hair. I acquired some beautiful mohair from a friend down the road and crocheted this wig base:

This is the second attempt and my (ever-helpful) hubby said "Achtung!" to both (because he thinks these so-called wigs look like WWII German helmets). Sigh. I'm out of this colour so can't loop longer pieces through this so-called base. Time's a-ticking...but for now, this elf is off to bed. I'll do a whole post about these little dollies if/when they come to fruition. This is looking like a last Handmade Holiday post, for this year anyway.

Thanks to Tonya at Plain and Joyful Living for inspiring and hosting this wonderful blog-share!

Random Moments

A few last shots from our dream weekend in a log cabin in the woods:

Margot, a book, and those luscious toddler-legs!

Like a wee acorn under an oak tree...Margot and her daddy.

Margot yet again, watching her siblings and cousins sliding outside.

Me, the voyeur, looking through the window at my brother and sister washing dishes!

And Margot (again!), helping Nanny wash the dishes.

A week has passed since that blissful Christmassy getaway, and we're already dreaming about next year!

Scenes from the Homestead

As part of our attempts to keep things a bit simpler this year, I've decorated minimally. I wouldn't say I'm a natural at Christmas decorating; my mother, and my friend Shanti, ARE...they artfully swag their windows with boughs, shelves drip greenery and berries in a seemingly effortless way; there is a perfect balance between natural and glittery decor. I LOVE the way this looks. I try it every year. And am always disappointed with the results. I am good at many things. Decorating is not one of them.

So, here are a few scenes from our home that give the message to all who visit: we're in the spirit!




Jupiter and Camino find the best bed in the house: under the tree!

 A quilt I handstitched years ago is repurposed as the perfect tree skirt!

I love simple window dressings, choosing bits of nature over curtains. Why block out that view of the duck/chicken house? This milkweed pod star fits perfectly within the circle of this berry wreath.

NOELves! I made these when I was a child and my mom recently passed them on to me. How simple, and sweet!

A birchbark star wreath, inspired by my friend Maureen.

A new ornament: a feather inside a glass tear, a gift from my sister Julie.

Last year's homemade stockings, one from vintage velvet and shell buttons, the other from a thrifted sweater and vintage buttons.

Sometimes in the whirlwind of Christmas preparations, it's good to remind yourself to KISS!*

*Keep It Simple, Stupid