Play Oasis

In the midst of the toy messes created by three smallish children, I have created a play oasis. The labelled toy baskets I lovingly sort day after day inevitably end up crammed with random objects that have nothing to do with the labels: old kleenex, discarded socks, bread crusts...so I feel compelled to protect one area of my house from chaos.

On our living room coffee table (which is an old farm table with the legs sawed off), I have four containers. One is  wire egg basket that holds our wood tree-blocks. The other three are fulled wool bowls made for me by a dear friend, containing: smooth river stones (purchased in a net bag at the local Dollar Store), rainbow blocks, and wooden farm animals. 

. It is very clear what goes where, and the only rule is that what is on the table stays on the table. 

Somehow, this order appeals to my very disorderly children. I like to think it gives them a sense of predictability and security, to know what goes where.

The natural textures of these play things draw the eyes and hands of children and adults alike. They invite us to touch, smell, build, stack, rub, tumble, imagine, play.

There's something kind of zen about it all. The moments when my children play here are always peaceful. And I'm grateful for those moments of peace. 

One could even suggest that it gives us a sense of balance.

Mad

A while ago, the dad of the house lost his cool with Jude.

It happens.

Jude is particularly sensitive to raised voices, and although we know it's ideal to be calm and reasonable, we don't always manage that. Daddy raised his voice, and I watched from the sidelines, wanting to step in, but torn between presenting a "united front" and jumping to my child's defense.

When my husband raises his voice, it triggers an old terror in me. Don't get me wrong; our dad never laid a hand on us; he never had to. His raised voice and steely stare were enough to convince us that there would be hell to pay if we didn't do what we were told, and NOW!

When I raise my voice, it is usually with complete exasperation.  The kids barely blink. But when my husband raises his voice, it cuts them to the quick.

It turns out, Jude doesn't need me to explain to my husband how his "mad voice" affects the kids. After the storm had subsided, Jude went to his desk to create this:

 Jude loves to draw this "not allowed" circle-with-a-line-through-it symbols. He put them to good use here, eloquently illustrating his very tall father leaning over him with a mad face. He makes it clear that this is NOT ALLOWED.

 Also not allowed: telling Jude to STOP with a mad face on.

This is the part of the picture that spoke most clearly and spurred my husband to work harder at keeping his cool: a self-portrait of the artist, his ears enlarged as if to say, "I can HEAR you and it hurts my ears (and my spirit) when you shout at me".

No parenting guru could have conveyed the message more clearly. I may take to drawing pictures to express my feelings, too, although I doubt I could capture the simplicity and eloquence of Jude's.

Her Sense of Self

Because she's my third child, I sometimes need to remind myself to marvel at the new things she can do. Her brother, my first, has a box full of early scribbles and paintings, each one dated and tucked away by his proud mama. By the time the third arrived, I was inundated with artistic renderings, shoved in a basket. I regret to admit that I look at some of those "Humpty Dumpty" drawings (round body, arms and legs stuck out at angles) and wonder...which of my children drew this?

But then, she developed an artistic style all her own. She draws her people upside down.

 Always start with the head, as this is where a toddler's consciousness is focussed: the place where information is gathered and processed with eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. . A nose that wrinkles up, and ears that can differentiate between the voices of those that love her.

A mouth that shouts and laughs and sings and murmurs and cries, and eyes that widen in surprise and tear up in an instant of frustration.

 Hair, and cheeks (her latest addition to these people drawings), and nice long legs; she is grounded by those sturdy, useful feet.

 Some longer hair indicates that this is a self-portrait. Arms are long for hugging, and fingers are many to reflect the many wonderful things her little hands can do now.

She looks with pride on her (upside down) creation, and I get a sense that this kid's sense of self is just as it should be.

The kindergarten teacher in me can't resist drawing attention to how she grips her marker; some children do this "tripod" grasp naturally (thumb and forefinger grasping the pencil, with the pencil leaning against that "web" between, supported by the middle finger), and it is considered the best grip for early printing skills. If your toddler grasps the pencil with the whole fist, "scissors" it between the fore-and middle fingers, or seems to have a "strange" way of gripping the pencil, please begin gently correcting their pencil grasp with lots of positive reinforcement; this will greatly benefit them when they are asked to do more than scribble. Thank you, from your child's future teachers!

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.

carefree

Camping is fun. Packing for camping is not.

Back in my late teens and twenties, it was almost a competition amongst outdoorsy types, to see how little you could take with you for a week long canoe trip. A Thermarest, a sleeping bag that stuffed into a sack the size of  a loaf of bread, a little Primus stove, and a pack of matches...that was about it.

I'm five days into packing for a family of five's five-day camping trip. I've created framework organisers to keep track of every-weather clothing for all of us, packed and unpacked the kids' suitcase, and have anticipated every possible ailment that might occur. I'm ready for days of rain, with a bin full of playdough, craft materials, books (fiction and non-fiction!), and games. I have fishing rods, boogie boards, snorkels, goggles, and bikes.

All this packing had me exhausted before we've even leave home, and wondering if it's all worth it.

Then I remembered days at my cousins' cottage, when I was a child. There was always a dry towel wrapped lovingly around me when I finally emerged from the cold, northern lake. As the evening chill came on and the fire was lit, there was always a warm sweatshirt and a pair of track pants ready for me. We never thought about food; our mothers just set out cereal, peanut butter sandwiches, and copious amounts of Koolaid to get us through the day.

One of the many gifts our mother gave us was a carefree childhood. Of course we didn't think about bring rubber boots or bug repellent...kids shouldn't have to think about those things. Everything we needed was just there, as if by magic.

And now, all this packing feels like a privilege; I can now offer my children the same thing my mother gave me: warm pyjamas, plentiful snacks, dry clothes after a swim, and little flashlights to play with in the tent.

Of course, I've packed a basket of goodies for myself, just in case I find a moment to relax, after all this packing.

Here's to all the mothers out there, who work behind the scenes (birthdays, Christmas, trips, holidays) to make sure that their children's lives are fun, stimulating, safe, and most of all, carefree.

Sand Crafts: Part 1

To create a sweet sandcastle that no wave will wash away, you will need:

• sand
• gold glitter (optional)
• white glue, slightly watered down (or Mod Podge, left as is!)
• a brush
• paper tubes (from toilet paper or paper towel)
• small twigs, and small amounts of coloured paper

Sift the sand to clean out any rocks and twigs. Add optional glitter.

Using scissors, cut tubes into different heights, then cut little "turrets" into the tops.

Cover tube with glue, then roll in sand (didn't manage to photograph this step: picture one mama, and three kids with glue and sand on their hands!).

Cut little triangles out of paper, and glue on twigs.

Set everything aside to dry!

Glue everything together (I used WeldBond); secure with clothespins till it is all dry.

Display artistically for a lovely indoors beach scene!

GratiTuesday: Busy

When I started GratiTuesday, it was to create an opportunity for stream-of-consciousness gratitude in the midst of my busy life. I don't always take pictures of what is on my list, because it usually just flows out as I write it. Gratitude isn't something we should PLAN, but something we should just naturally feel in the presence of the many blessings in our lives.

Here's my list, in no particular order...

.: my parents' generosity in helping us purchase a second vehicle (thus saving my sanity), and in the gift of tickets to see the Lion King at the National Arts Centre. It was unforgettable, for my kids and for me, and something I would never have been able to afford.

.: the gift of music, especially since it's something I can share with my husband, with so much joy. We had our first performance together in a long while, at the Bonnechere Caves, sharing the stage with many other local talents. Later, we recorded a video INSIDE the Caves! Amazing! Visiting with friends I haven't seen in ages, listening to the water going over the Fourth Chute of the river, and seeing the almost-full moon rise conspired to create an unforgettable evening.

.: getting together with a dear friend, whose children love my children. One older, reading child plus four smaller, book-loving children equals a beautiful storytime!

.: creating my first "stock"...piles of hats, felt crowns, knitted snails, and small cotton dolls to sell at a arts/crafts show this coming weekend.

.: having captured this moment: my mother fitting Violet for a handmade dress. I can remember standing on a chair in this same kitchen, my mother expertly holding pins in her mouth as she created a hem. The added beauty of this dress is that the darker fabric is from a dress my mother made for ME when I was in Grade Two. She'll be selling dresses like these at the craft show mentioned above!

.: the joy of a really great, can't-put-it-down read: "One Day" by David Nicholls.

.: always, always, the first sip of coffee in the morning

.: Brad Pitt as Tristan in "Legends of the Fall" which I watched last night AGAIN!

.: the cool nights that follow a wicked thunderstorm

.: bellydancing outside at a local farmers' market, settling back into my body, loving the breeze swirling my skirt and the warmth of the grass beneath my feet

.: looking at my husband in the early morning as he sleeps, marvelling that he looks EXACTLY as he did 10 years ago when we met: hands crossed across his chest, so peaceful, and so beautiful.

.: as always: Jude's freckles, Violet's cartoon-character voice, and Margot's fingers holding a paintbrush.

What I'm getting around to saying is that gratitude is not some polished stone that should be taken out and admired once a week. It's something I want to feel sifting into my soul throughout the week, at random moments, especially when I'm worrying about money, or the mess of my house, or how I can get everything done "on time". Because really: there is abundant EVERYTHING in my life right now.

Grab that button and link back to me: what are YOU grateful for this week?

Like the Fonz

It's all about keeping cool. Think Arthur Fonzarelli. We're eating cool, playing cool, dressing cool.

The dress code is casual: cotton shirts or dresses, or nothing at all. Bare feet, hair tied up.

Coffee is left in the pot to cool, then shaken with milk, sugar, and ice in a big Mason jar, to be sipped all morning.

On the menu: wraps, pasta salads, veggies and tortillas and dip, popcorn.

Oh, and watermelon. LOTS of watermelon (best eaten naked, to let the juice drip down your arms, onto your chest, pooling in your bellybutton).

Last evening our friends down the road called with an invitation to come over for a swim in their pool. My response? HELL, YES! The kids cooled off, the adults had a few cool beverages, and we all just felt so...

coooool.

Creating Order

I KNOW I'm not alone in feeling that I work in my house all day, only to have my husband arrive home from work to a house that looks like a bomb went off. These humid days, my hair is in a frizzy halo, my shirt is sweaty and dirty, and I have that incredulous look on my face. I MUST'VE worked all day because I'm exhausted and my feet hurt...but where are the results?

You know what the day is like with small kids: you just go from one disaster to the next, one mess to a bigger mess; they manage to undo in minutes what it takes me an hour to accomplish. It's enough to make you cry, tear your hair out, gnash your teeth, and beat your chest in frustration. Playdough to painting to splashing at the sink to requesting more food to pulling all the books off the shelf in search of the one perfect story...

It is sometimes hard to remember that PLAYING IS A CHILD'S WORK. They really aren't doing this to drive you crazy. It only feels that way. They are impulsive beings, children, and don't worry about the mess they leave behind...they just look ahead to the next fun thing they can get into.

It's taken me years to get to today...to a point where I feel like I have the energy, creativity, and desire to create some order in my house, after years of childbearing and exhaustion. Children ages 2-6 ARE capable of cleaning up after themselves. It works like magic in my classroom; I just start singing "Now it's time to tidy up, tidy up, tidy up, now it's time to tidy up and put our toys away!" (to the tune of London Bridge), and off they go, like little automatons, sorting toys into their appropriate baskets, putting things on shelves, sweeping up sand, carefully stacking blocks, cooperating. I'm amazed, every single day.

The neat thing about a Kindergarten classroom is that everything is at a child's level. They don't have to ask me if they can paint, because the paint is accessible to them at all times. I'm starting to apply the principles behind order in the Kindergarten classroom to my home, to great success (so far)!

I started out by putting all the materials necessary to paint into this yard sale find: a low wooden crate. When Margot asks to paint at 7:30 a.m., I pull out a dollar store palette (at right), fill each little space with a different colour, (naming them with her as I go), and pull a brush from the jar at the left. When she's done, I cover the palette with plastic wrap, and when she inevitably asks to paint AGAIN, I'm all ready to go. This has made an activity that used to make me groan into something quick and painless. Please note that this is NOT at her level; at this point I still want some control over the paint mess! Once the day is over, I clean the palette, and stow it back in the crate, all ready for the next morning's creativity.

Another problem area is the living/play room. A large basket was what we used to store everything, all jumbled together. I'd half-heartedly sort stuff now and then, only to find it all jumbled up in the big basket again. Children do not play well with toys that are a)too numerous and b)too messed up. Since Jude mostly plays at his desk with Lego now, I made up these two baskets (purchased at Giant Tiger!), using white craft paint. One holds all the doll clothes, and small dolls. The other is for play food, dishes, etc. The girls are old enough to sort their toys, and tend to play MORE now that there are LESS toys.

Gratuitous close-up of my dream house...

Another GREAT idea (and one that I used when Jude was two and in speech therapy) was to photograph certain types of toys (e.g. cars, animals, people, blocks), laminate the photos, and stick them onto bins. At two, though non-verbal, Jude was able to find the toys he wanted, and could help put them back in their own place. Sorting is an important skill for early learning, and being able to "help" is so very empowering for little ones.

Playdough is right at my kids' level, so that if they want to play with it, they can grab it. Yes, I bought playdough. Yes, I have a recipe for homemade...I just don't have time to make it, am always out of cream of tartar, and noticed that the storebought kind costs less than two dollars for four colours. Just in case you were going to offer me your recipe...ha!

Workbooks and colouring books are also at my children's level, as are blank paper, markers, and crayons. Scissors and glitter are kept out of their reach.

It takes a bit of time and effort to organise your house for little ones. But once they feel a sense of ownership for their toys and learning tools, they are likely to take more pride in them, which will hopefully lead to more responsibility. I remind my children about how nice it is to know where their things are. I feel that children are capable of reaching a target, as long as they know what that target looks like. If for you it looks like your kids tidying up after themselves, well...they can do it.

They really can...I've seen it with my own eyes. I haven't seen it in my own house yet, but I have hope that by taking little steps like the ones above, my children will start helping me accomplish that of which I dream: a somewhat tidy house at the end of the day.

You need not spend piles of money on fancy storage systems. All of my baskets come from yard sales and Value Village, or Giant Tiger if I find them on sale. Baskets are a pretty way to contain any mess! Be creative, and remember: LESS is always MORE when it comes to toys for your kids. Think quality, not quantity (unless it's playdough...then think cheap and easy!...heehee!)

Summer Rhythm

Small children thrive on structure. I've known babes who sleep anywhere and anytime. I occasionally veered from our sleep routines, but felt it was important for my babes (AND for me) to be well-rested, at home and in their own beds.

Not that I avoid spontaneity...I love an impromtu road trip or visit. I was thrilled to find that Margot (who has been the least flexible of my children) was happy to sleep in a Pack and Play while visiting my sister last weekend! My children love to be surprised, and are flexible when our day involves events that are out of their routine...they also love sleepovers at Nanny and Papa's house, or at their Aunts' homes.

But here I am, facing summer; my husband is gone for 10 hours a day, and so far I am without wheels (he has my van, as his car finally gave up the ghost and we're still looking for a replacement). I knew that a visual schedule would be as useful to me as to my children.

I'd created these little cards on a program called "Boardmaker", and use them every day in my classroom. There are children who fly by the seat of their pants all day, and others who want to know: what are we doing next? After a few weeks of directing them to the class schedule, they begin using it independently to ease their transitions from one activity to the next, or to figure out if it's lunch time or snack time.

This 'schedule' is not written in stone, of course. But it's cool to see Violet consulting it and saying, "Time to get dressed!" or "Can we paint now?" Snacks and meals are dictated more by hunger than the time on the clock, and outside play is spontaneous...the more the better!

My children seem calmer somehow, with a visual reminder of what was already our daily rhythm. A visual schedule also allows your child to talk about their day when your spouse returns from work. Sequencing events is an early reading strategy; the more you get your child talking about events in order (how to make a sandwich, the main events in a familiar story, or the rhythm of their day) the better. Model the use of "first, next, then, last" as often as possible.

Without a vehicle, I find I need to plan a little more, particularly when it comes to meals...no more running out to the grocery store for a forgotten ingredient. The beauty and order of this little meal plan astounds disorganised me, and has added such an element of CALM to my day...I've completely eliminated my daily, "What the HELL am I making for dinner tonight??" rant. It's even allowed me to make some food the night before which has made for a happier, more engaged mama. I imagine this will also really help with our tighter summer budget, and will be a habit I carry into the school year.

Jude, at age 6, has a more developed concept of time. Still, he has been asking me EVERY DAY, "Do I have school tomorrow?" I finally found these pages from a desk calendar to show him July and August. I reiterated (for the 100th time) that school is done, that summer is two whole months of soccer, swimming lessons, visiting, and play! I've filled in important events that are written on my kitchen calendar (if they are pertinent to him)...like seeing "The Lion King" on July 16th! I fill it out by the week so as not to overwhelm him, and will "x" out the days as they pass. You could also add symbols to keep track of the weather (a sun, a cloud, a raindrop, a lightning bolt!), and graph them at the end of the month.

These little reminders of the hours and days passing, and the rhythm of our summer, help me to live in each moment, and to plan ahead to the days and weeks to come.

Oh, Canada

This is a vast land we live in.

I've travelled from coast to coast more than once, and have some grasp of the diversity of the people and landscape of Canada. We celebrate Canada's "birthday" on July 1, with outdoor play, barbeques, ball games, strawberry shortcake...all culminating with fireworks.

All across the country, people park their cars in the local ball field or school yard, spread out blankets or unfold lawn chairs, and watch the show. The children scream with delight, and the crowd swells with "oooOOOH!"s and aaaAAAh"s!

We spent the long weekend with my sister, and checked all the requisite Canada Day activities off the list, and then some. The kids stayed up extra, extra late to see the fireworks, and declared that they were AWESOME! (I missed them because Margot was too little and had to go to bed...I'll admit, I was a bit overtired, too!)

When I was 9 or so, we drove across Northern Ontario, then across the prairies, the foothills, and the Rockies until we reached the farthest western coast of Canada. No text book could have taught me as much about this country I live in. My children will often say, after an hour or so of driving, "Are we in Canada now?" or "Are we still in Canada?" They're too little to comprehend the expanse of land that we call Canada. But with plans in the works for a trip to Canada's east coast in a couple of years, their knowledge will grow as mine did, from the backseat of a car.

Oh, Canada, glorious and free...I'll admit it: I'm a patriot.

Coincidentally, this piece was posted on Independence Day, so to all my American friends and followers out there: Happy July 4th!

Far From the Tree

Although my dad was the Phys. Ed. teacher at our school, I just didn't take to sports. I had an overly developed sense of responsibility in team sports, always worrying that I'd be the one that screwed up. I was very self-conscious. I also had undiagnosed (till I was 10) exercise-induced asthma. Living in a small town, sports go by the season...in winter, there's hockey, curling, and skiing. In summer, there's softball, swimming, and soccer. For me, summer meant climbing up in a tree and reading endlessly.

Our local soccer program is just terrific. Herds of kids crowd the field in what we affectionately call "Daisy Pickers Soccer". There are enough balls for each kid to have one, and sometimes they participate in drills. Sometimes they climb on the goal posts or study the flora on the soccer pitch (hence the nickname).

This is our first year participating with our older kids, and to my surprise, I find myself wanting to go and watch every week. In addition to visiting with other parents, I have discovered the joy of watching this tempermental child of mine thriving in an athletic setting. She participates without complaint for the whole hour, and thanks her coaches when it's done.

Coach Mike warms the kids up.

We call her Spaghetti Legs (no, not to her face!), with a slight fear she might get them tangled up one day.

Listening to Coach Paul.

Her focus amazes me.

Coach Daddy (having spent his early childhood in England) gets into the fun.

Jude winds up for a mighty kick!

I love this little nerd so darn much!

It is at this point in parenting that I am coming to recognise my children as independent of me. Their relationship is their own, and I know that these are the days they'll remember; their summers will begin to blur together in what I hope will be a happy collage of swimming, camping, wrestling on the grass, sports that they love, and that ultimate gift of childhood: being carefree.

Violet pins Jude, who seems happy to be pinned. We know this isn't technically allowed in soccer.

Ah, the scent of new-mown grass.

These are the days.