Fairy Tea Party

While I profess to follow the KISS* rule of raising children, I somehow cannot resist the potential of a little girl's birthday party...the food! the decorations! the favours! the costumes! I usually start checking out sites for ideas a few months in advance, jotting down anything that grabs my fancy. I can't really credit any of these ideas to one specific site; they're kind of a reflection of what my mind does with a bit of inspiration!

*Keep It Simple, Stupid!

Wands, created in Northern Ontario from birch bark coloured with watercolour paint, glued on to sparkly fun foam; ribbons and sparkly hearts were added as embellishments, then the whole lot was attached to a sturdy twig with hot glue.

Invitations gently suggested that fairy wings be worn, and every guest complied with joy. Daddy entertained the guests with silly songs, including the faery hokey-pokey..."You put your left wing in, you put your left wing out..."

Fancy tea cups are a must for any tea party; if the Guest of Honour's name happens to be Violet, then a tablecloth adorned with violets are a nice touch!

Tiny toadstool hors d'oeuvres...made from pinching one end of a mini-marshmallow and inserting it into a raspberry. Following the note I left before rushing away for the weekend, my husband and his buddy sat up till 2:30 a.m. making these...

...and these: Faery Fruit Wands!

Strawberry cupcakes with buttercream icing, tinted pink, of course...decorated with fresh violets from the garden (of course!)...

Violet requested that mommy wear a "special dress".

Tinkerbell graced us with her presence.

Sweet girl, with pink nail polish (only for a four-year-old girl!)

A wooden play kitchen has been on our wish list for a few years, but there never seems to be the money for one...so I printed off a picture of one I liked from the internet, handed it to my hubby and his buddy (the one with the tools and the know-how!), and sent him off night after night to work on it. I'm so thrilled with what they managed to create without a pattern!

Violet was thrilled, too!

While I did the research and planning of this party, credit for its execution goes to my beautiful man, who so graciously takes on extra tasks when I'm looking like I might burn out...sends me off to the north, stays home alone for a weekend with the kids, doesn't freak out when he realises that I accidentally took the van keys with me (OOPS!), and loads the kids into his little Mazda instead to get groceries for the birthday. Violet felt like the most special little girl in the world for a day, and what more could anyone want on their birthday? My heart overflows.

Unconditional

Remember when you were pregnant with your first child, and you made all those sweet promises to your unborn baby...about how you'd always share the wonders of the world with them? You couldn't imagine being impatient with them, raising your voice at them, being impatient or frustrated with them. We all think we're going to be better than "those mothers"...

The trouble with parenting is that you have no idea what you're getting into, until you're irrevocably INTO it. When you made those promises, you didn't imagine holding a screaming baby for hours, or dealing with a toddler who bites, or trying to get three kids out the door on time on a winter morning. You'd turn to books, but when your kids are small, it's hard to find the time to read anything, let alone some dry how-to-raise-amazing-kids-with-this-magical-three-step-process type of book.

Because here's the rub: There is no magic trick. Children don't come with instruction manuals, and the advice we get from our own parents, TVs latest guru, or well-meaning strangers doesn't often help, because your children are unique: they're YOURS.

The expectant mama...blissfully unaware.

But giving them lots of love is a good start. Setting reasonable boundaries, listening to them, tuning in to their needs, and giving them many opportunities to learn and explore safely take you further down the road to your goal of raising healthy human beings.

We can be so hard on ourselves. I reflect a lot, and wake up often in the middle of the night replaying a scene from the previous day, wondering what I could have done differently or better, worrying that I've irrevocably damaged my child's sense of trust or self-esteem (because I yelled at them in a moment of impatience, or said "No" too many times). I know that every parent loses their cool. But it seems the worst of ironies that we so often reprimand our children for impulsive behaviour, losing control, or being impatient when we are such good role models of these behaviours!

Innocent beauty and ultimate trust rolled into one sweet being.

About a year ago, I started reading Alfie Kohn's "Unconditional Parenting". Every once in awhile, you come across a book that just resonates with your soul, finds communion with your intuition, and reassures you that what you felt in your heart was just right. I don't recommend reading loads of parenting how-to books, as they can make it hard to figure out what YOUR stance is. You may sense what you feel is best, but it cab be challenging to articulate. People think you're wishy-washy, or airy-fairy, or artsy-fartsy. Yes, I've been called all of the above.

Patience and good role-modelling starts early.

I often found myself giving in to things my own parents said or did ("If you don't stop that right now, I'm turning this van around and we're NOT going to Aunt Lana's house!!") I cringe internally when I hear myself saying things like this: coercion, bribes, empty threats, "because I said so!" kind of statements. They just unsettle me, but in the heat of those moments where you're surrounded by screaming kids, or you're late for work, or overtired, sometimes you feel like you have no other option.

Learning to be human in this world.

Forget that these techniques actually don't do a whole lot. Ditto for timeouts. When my older children went through the hitting/biting stage, I'd give them a timeout. They'd do it again within an hour, and I'd give them another timeout. The next day I'd give them more. So...duh. Obviously the timeout doesn't work. Growing out of a stage does. By the time we had our third child, we started recognising developmental patterns and have eased up on the "discipline". Gentle reminders, distraction, and removing a toddler from a situation (without isolating them) seem to be more effective in the long run.

I finished reading "Unconditional Parenting" this morning, covering the part I'd been waiting for: alternatives to traditional parenting. Kohn doesn't offer a band-aid solution. He does, however, offer a beautiful list that will be posted on my refrigerator. This sang to my mother's soul:

1.  Be reflective.
2.  Reconsider your requests.
3.  Keep your eye on the long-term goals.
4.  Put the relationship first.
5.  Change how you see, not just how you act.
6.  R-E-S-P-E-C-T
7.  Be authentic.
8.  Talk less, ask more.
9.  Keep their ages in mind.
10. Attribute to children the best possible motive consistent with the facts.
11. Don't stick your no's in unnecessarily.
12. Don't be rigid.
13. Don't be in a hurry.

Parenting is hard work. No one ever said it would be easy. It is overwhelming, underrated, unpaid, and often thankless.

But important? You betcha. Get thee to a bookstore and  buy this book, then read it. It may confirm what you already know. It may support you in questioning those practices that you find unsettling. It will certainly open your mind, and perhaps give you some backup support when someone questions your approach.

You're wonderful. Your children are wonderful. And your relationship is so worth it.

Two

Margot at a few weeks old.

My Sweet Margot Joy,

Today I reflect on the day of your birth, a cold, clear morning two years ago. I started labour at around midnight, and just breathed in the quiet dark, curled up against your dad's back, until I knew it was time to call my support team.

My midwife, Leslie, lived a good hour's drive away, and I remember my profound sense of gratitude at seeing the headlights sweeping across the wall as she drove up the lane way. We'd had it ploughed that day because we knew our time was near.

This was my third labour, so I knew what my habits were: I like to be left alone, with a wet cloth to press over my eyes through each contraction...no distractions, no music, no words of encouragement. I prayed that you would be born by morning, and once Leslie had checked me out, she assured me that I would, indeed, be holding you by sunrise! She just barely caught your sister Violet, so she too knew how things go with me in labour.

By very early morning, my Doula (your aunt!) Julie arrived; the atmosphere was peaceful and calm. This was my first nighttime labour, and I understood why most animals give birth at night. We called your Nanny, and your aunt Lana, to let them know they should head out soon if they wanted to be part of this birth. Aunt Lana took this photo of the homestead as they came up the road in the dawn light:

Wisps of smoke from the chimney, house warmed to welcome a new babe.

Once I got into the bathtub, it didn't take long to reach the "pushy" stage. Violet was awake by now, and watched from the bedroom door, secure in Nanny's arms. Jude was snoozing away, in spite of the noise and activity just below him.

Then, there was you...my beautiful dark-haired girl, so different from your siblings, but decidedly MINE. I asked over and over if everything was okay, and I wonder now about mother's intuition; it would be 7 weeks before we'd realise that your tiny heart was in trouble.

But on that early morning, there was just you, in bed with your mom and dad and sister, and soon your brother; he woke up minutes after your birth. That bed was all that existed for me that morning, full of the man I chose and the children we created together. The tree outside the window stood bare, its empty arms reaching up to the late-winter sky. But were my arms full? You betcha.

Papa arrived to meet his new grandchild, then appointed himself head chef, cooking a big country breakfast for the tired support team. The sun rose, brilliant in a clear sky, and although I'd been left upstairs to rest and nestle in, I was drawn downstairs by the smells of coffee and bacon, and the lively chatter that travelled up the stairs. I settled into the wing back chair beside the wood stove, and basked in that I-just-birthed-a-baby bliss.

Tired daddy.

The weeks that followed are a blur now, of attempting to nurse while small children climbed up for a story, trying to pump to keep my milk supply up, struggling to figure out why you weren't gaining weight, and the realisation that something was, indeed wrong.

I had to record you as a presence in this family; I feared you might not live through your surgery.

Margot at exactly age one.

My Margot. Now you are two. There was a time when I wasn't sure if you'd make it here, and today I feel more than the normal joy and gratitude at milestones reached. I suppose it will always be this way, that whisper of "what if..." that casts a brief shadow over my heart.

You are aptly named, my wee wrestler, early morning song-singer, book-lover, belly-laugher, and wordsmith. You love your knitted blanket, nursery rhymes, listening to CBC in the van, other babies, and your Nanny. Your blue eyes contain so much soul and intelligence, and your curls can melt hearts.

Your love came unexpectedly, and we are so grateful for this surprise of your presence; we accepted you with joy and are thankful every single day that you chose us to parent you.

Happy, happy birthday, my girl.

Love,
Mommy

Today is a day for being. Be with those you love, be kind to yourself. Be quiet and call forth the dream you buried long ago. The ember is still glowing in your soul. See it in your mind, hold it tenderly in your heart. "The dream was always running ahead of one", Anais Nin confessed. "To catch up, to live for a moment in union with it, that was the miracle."

~Sarah Ban Breathnach, Simple Abundance

Love and blessings to all on St. Valentine's Day.