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.

Wading

I follow the trail, like so many breadcrumbs from the porch, down the steps, and across the lawn.

It doesn't take long to find Gretel,

And her brother Hansel.

In the ancient language of children, their bodies shout with the joy of free play, cold water on their feet, and sunshine on their bare shoulders.

Charmed, I'm Sure

What do you call an octopus wearing socks?

A Socktopus, of course!

I know. Words are not necessary to express the absolute charm and pure appeal of this little creation. Photos are quite enough. The rainbow knee sock! The pouffy leg warmer! The WORK SOCK! The tiny turned heels (using short rows), and the rustic stitched face. This little lady positively oozes charm!

To the right, see the pink over-the-knee stocking...you can't see the black seam up the back, or the sexy little bow at the heel...

The pattern is clearly written, but allows for creative expression. Ideas for the socks came as I knit (the pattern doesn't give specifics), so I'm already hatching plans for the next three I make (my children have been clamouring for their own Socktopi as they watched the birth of this one).

You can imagine the thoughts that go through one's head whilst knitting socks on an octopus:

this is a knee sock, but does an octopus HAVE knees? or a heel for that matter?...a real octopus would need super-elastic socks to keep them up on those rubbery legs...an octopus doesn't have to worry if the mate to a sock goes missing!...

And so on. Then I'd catch myself ruminating on the sock-habits of an OCTOPUS for heaven's sake, and smile as only a knitter can.

This little lady is a gift for a friend of Violet's. I can't wait to see her face as she first lays eyes on her very own Socktopus.

It's one of those things: you didn't know you needed one until you get one!

Enjoy the Show

When the winter days get too long, and the temperature drops too low, mamas have to delve into their creative bags of tricks (or sewing baskets) to help pass the time. On one such day last week, we made sock puppets. Each of my children chose what they wanted, and got to help out with a few stitches.

Margot got a doggie (note my hand-clamp on her wrist to keep the thing still for a photo!)

Jude wanted a monster (complete with purple horns and craaaazy eyes),

and Violet chose a duck (hand-clamp again...that duck just didn't want to keep still!)

By some stroke of luck, I happened to have a yellow sock in my drawer.

The real fun began when the puppet show was performed, a plotless, convoluted thing that involved lots of squeaky voices and puppets biting each other. I imagine that as our puppet supply increases, we'll attempt performing actual stories. Or maybe tomorrow's pass-the-time activity will be writing a story about a duck, a dog, a monster, and the mother who loves them.

No tutorial here. Just get any old sock. Pull in the toe and secure with a stitch to create the mouth. Cut out ears/teeth/tongues/appendages from felt; sew on. Sew on buttons for eyes. Your child does not care how unprofessional your sewing is. She'll stick her hand in a marvel at how moving her hand causes the puppet to talk. She'll talk back to her new friend. Feel proud of yourself.

Then sit back and enjoy the show.

GratiTuesday

When the temperature drops to -20 degrees Celsius (that is just ridiculously cold), I find myself feeling grateful for all kinds of things.

::the joy of indoor cats

::the joy of outdoor cats

::after a day apart, siblings cuddling under a mama-made quilt

::the promise of a bag of yarn, and a new project on the needles

::endless cups of tea, and my shiny, whistly kettle

::the games of Hollywood Rummy with my husband that help pass the evenings

::the little love tokens my husband leaves: kindling, bundled newspaper, and wood

::and the fire I can create so quickly and effortlessly when I get home from work

::the signs of indoor play when the risk of frostbite is too great

::Jude's first taste of ice cream in years (this one is made from coconut milk!)

::and the promise of another sunny day in the snow with my chicklets.

My time on the computer is severely curtailed by the ever-presence of my children; the toddler who slams the laptop shut as I work, the preschooler who clambers up and kicks the internet stick out of the computer, the son who needs a drink, the husband who masks his irritation that I'm trying to blog now?

I'm trying to figure out how to add a Magical Widgety thingy. It's not going well. I just don't have time to fiddle around with the fancy stuff, as much as I'd like to and admire everyone else's ability to do so.

So, please share a link in your comment, or just a few words about what you're feeling grateful about today! GratiTuesday! Love it!

Tutorial: Clothing Swap!

Every once in awhile, when our closets seem too full and we're bored with what's in them, we (our circle of women) organise a Clothing Swap. It often corresponds with someone's birthday or another occasion. It happens at night, with wine and appetizers, or in the afternoon, with tea and cookies. We mostly bring women's clothes, but sometimes include children's and men's clothes. We bring shoes, scarves, gold shorts, orange pants, feathery shirts...anything goes!

Shanti explains the "rules" to new swappers.

Here's how it works: we all gather, visit, nibble, then the magical moment arrives when someone says, "Swap time!" We all grab our bags/baskets/boxes of clothes, and DUMP them in the middle of a large space. Then the free-for-all begins. Sometimes there's good-natured screaming and scrambling. Sometimes there's a wear-off, if one item is desired by two (where both parties model it and we kindly decide who wears it best). Often there's a kindly, "Oh, this looks like it would fit you!" Don't take the time to try everything on at first; just stash it behind you. When the frenzy has died down, try everything on, and put back anything that doesn't fit/look right.

Loot bags for women!

The mountain of wardrobe riches...

Score!

Picking through the treasures.

Once the clothes have been thoroughly picked through (and stirred and picked through again), we often have a fashion show, showing off our best score of the night! The clothes that are left behind (and there are usually lots) are bagged and donated, and everyone goes home with a few "new" (free!) articles to add to their wardrobe.

Swaps allow for creative expression and wild ensembles.

And of course, someone always brings (or models!) funny lingerie...

If you're feeling bored with your wardrobe, or overwhelmed with the mountain in your closet, now is the time to organise a clothing swap...just make sure you don't leave with more than you brought!

Say Yes

Somedays I want to get lots of stuff done in my house. Often, my kids have other plans. We had a cold and rainy day at home this week, and I found myself surrendering to the silly, and getting creative about kid fun. If you find yourself in a similar situation, you could try one of the following:

Carry a kitten inside your nightgown kangaroo-style.

Teach your kids about the spectrum of colour while surreptitiously

organising your knitting basket.

Inadvertently create building materials that will occupy your

5-year old's imagination for an hour.

Just lay yourself down on a bed and let them jump on you.

Or, clean your toilet and explain why you have to do it to your

3-year old who always wants to know: WHY?

This weekend, why not welcome creative fun into your home? Say yes to silly. Just. Say. Yes.

(Oh, and enter my giveaway...a reminder to comment on the actual post, not this one, to be included in the draw!)

Welcoming Committee

My best friend and I had a recent discussion about the unconventional parenting styles of our husbands, when they are left alone with the kids. First of all, let me just say that I completely appreciate the fact that our husbands are even WILLING to spend time with their kids (I know some moms who have to bargain and coerce to get time "off"...), and recognize this as a relatively recent phenomenon. My mom marvels at how "involved" my husband is, and although she says in some ways it was easier for her to parent without consulting my dad about every decision (he left much of the childcare to her), she is impressed with the care he gives them.

So, back to my friend. She is a dance teacher, and once a week, travels to a nearby town to teach, leaving her hubby home with their four children through the dinner hour. What he makes each week is this: grated cheese in the bottom of a pot, cooked noodles poured on top, cold spaghetti sauce poured on top of THAT; stir it all up and serve. Haha! The best part is that they all sit on the kitchen floor, and he feeds them from the pot, with ONE FORK so that he doesn't have to wash dishes.

While SHE prefers a nicely set table and civility at dinner, she eventually recognized that her kids will likely cherish this memory of their dad, the way I cherish my memories of the days my mom worked. Dad would have to braid my long curly hair. The plaits were always crooked, too tight, or messy. And I loved them anyway, because I loved the rare experience of my dad's clumsy fingers trying to wrestle my mop into submission.

I sometimes marvel at the fashion ensembles my husband creates for our kids. And it used to secretly bug me, way back when I used to sweat the small stuff. He makes "interesting" meals for them, and somehow they eat his concoctions with enthusiasm. While I spend my whole day trying to make headway with the neverending housework, he takes them outside and "putters" around in the barns.

Recently, I came home to find this handsome fella standing beside our laneway, welcoming me home to my sweet man and happy kids:

It sometimes pains me when I think of the work imbalance that often occurs between mothers and fathers and how, in spite of the fact that I do at least 75% of the parenting and housework, my kids will likely remember daddy as the "fun" parent. They'll remember me cooking and cleaning and taxiing them here and there. And then I feel a little bit sorry for myself, because of the love, committment, and HEART I put into my job as a mom. What if they never appreciate me?

Then I remind myself of the gift it is for my children to have such a loving, involved father, who, by building a Welcome Monster with his kids and puttering in the barns teaches them creativity, resourcefulness, and the wonder of seeing everyday objects with fresh eyes.

If your children's wonderful daddy is nearby, go and give him a hug, and thank him for being there for you and for them.

And the Winner Is...

The winning comment, chosen randomly, was number 21...that means that Stephinie at Gypsy Forest is the winner of a lovely, handmade Mushroom Cottage! Please contact me by email, Stephinie, so I can make arrangements to send it to you as soon as it's done (just a few more flowers and some wee curtains to sew on...yours has a yellow door, a blue roof...curtain colour to be decided soon!)

It's been a lovely week "off", although I do miss writing my daily posts! You can imagine how limiting it is for me, without a camera! We've done some visiting, some idea-sharing over at the Toadstool, and lots of playing, pretending, cuddling, and story-reading.

Margot is working on 5 teeth (four of them molars). She is not a happy camper. As I write this at 12:48 a.m., she is having a cuddle with daddy in the livingroom. This is unusual for her; my kids all go to sleep at around 8 p.m., and we never hear a peep until morning. This is our third teething toddler (she's a toddler already? What happened to my baby?) so we know that "this tooth shall pass".

Jude's been big into pretending these days. He's perfected his pirate voice (preceding every statement with "Yar!"...sometimes he forgets, then shifts into an accented rumble), and has had many an adventure on the high seas with his "skelescope", alternately saving and terrorizing the girls. It all depends on whether it's a good pirate day or a bad pirate day.

We've also been treated to quite a few magic shows, knitted afghan hung across the doorway as a curtain; it's swept aside in his dramatic entrance. He loves to use knitting needles and drumsticks as his magic wand.

Check out that posture and focus!

(and shift your eyes from the mess in the background!)

Yesterday I had the singular horror pleasure of playing "Doctor" with my eldest two. I was instructed to lie down on the couch. My role was to play a mother in labour.

Let me just clarify here that all three of my children were born at home, under the loving care of my midwife, sister/doula, sister, mother, and of course my husband. So you can imagine my horror surprise to find myself lying on my back, a belt around my wrist, an accordion at my head that would now and then be given an experimental squeeeeze. Between the sips of "oil" to make the baby come out, Jude pushing my ankles together, and Violet giving me a "needle" in the forehead, it was all rather hilarious and distressing! I played my part well, yelling "Can I just have the baby now???", and Violet stroked my forehead, whispering, "Just bewax, Mommy...bewaaax". When the babies were born (twins, no less!), Jude whisked them away, promising to take care of them for me.

Wow. It was all a bit too mid-20th century for me! They have obviously forgotten how and where they were born. But the time will come when I can explain it all to them. For now, pretending is lots of fun.

Have a great weekend!