So I’m wearing yet another hat around here. It does take me farther away from sewing, blogging, cleaning (ha!), but it’s awesome and hard and frustrating and tiring and so, so super amazingly cool!
Homeschooling was something that I had always considered in a kind of throw-the-idea-around-here-and-there kind of way.
It kind of went with the progression of our parenting style – breastfeeding, babywearing, cloth diapering, ayurvedic medicine — oh, yeah, what the heck, maybe I’ll homeschool, too!
Whenever I’d mention it, I’d get a sort of common, generic response of how neat of an idea that was, but how few people are “able” to do it — oh, and, my favorite –boy, was I brave! (I think sometimes it was a compliment, and sometimes it was just a filler when someone didn’t know what to say. Once or twice it was delivered in a you’re-nuts-to-take-that-on kind of way.)
This general idea of us, as parents, not being “able” to teach our own children was really a soul-searching topic for me. I made lists of pros and cons, did tons of research, etc.
I’ve been M.I.A. again – for some very cool reasons. Mainly, though, this past week I’ve been lucky enough to spend my time nourishing a 20-year-old friendship. How cool is that?!
Growing up military-style has some perks, and some non-perks. One perk, moving around and getting to see other parts of the country and meet new people. A non-perk, moving around and always having to find your place with new people. Yes, the pros and the cons are so closely related that it’s hard to differentiate sometimes – especially if you’re in your teenage years when it seems like high school could very possibly be the real world.
Shhhh! Do you hear the crickets? I kind of wish I could hear them in real life! ;O)
As is the norm, life has been busy, but cyber-life here on the blog has been the opposite. From birth and by nature, I’ve always been a person who struggles with balance (not usually with physical balance, but sometimes even that! lol). It’s hard to stay away from my people-pleasing ways, and it’s standard for me to take on more than I can handle just to prove to myself that I can do it.
First, Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope today finds you, number one, loving and approving of yourself; and, number two, having someone special to love and love you back!
As for me, I have to say that time has been getting the best of me this past week! Lots of changes going on around here. All positive, don’t worry!
I was really happy to get back to doing some quick tutorials, which are really my favorite thing about blogging; but I have missed blogging about my deep-thinking shenanigans, too!
I wrote the title of this post, literally, about three weeks ago, and have been itching to get back to it ever since. I’d love to share mine and hear your thoughts on this topic, and tips and tricks to hold on to what must be let go. Because, really, in the grand scheme of things, nothing is under our control. There is birth; there is life; there is death. It is all a natural cycle – independent of our thoughts, feelings, and beliefs. And we all have to cope with some aspect of this cycle at one time or another.
I remember when I was preparing for the birth of my first child. One of my sweet friends, who is also an alternative healthcare provider, told me that the biggest thing to remember during labor was that I would have to relax and just “let go.” She said that that would afford me a much more relaxed and quicker labor. She said that symbolically asthmatics (which I am) have trouble letting go. (Something about holding on to precious air in a subconscious fear that this breath may be your last.) It made perfect sense to me, and I’ve applied this thought process to many things in the last five years.
(For the record, my first labor was 21 hours of natural intensity and insanity; and then three hours of glorious epidural-induced calm. Letting go was HARD!)
My daughter (A.S.) and I started making cookies as gifts two years ago. It seemed like the perfect way for our family to avoid wasting time in the mainstream money-spending, time-sucking Christmas traditions (sorry for painful honesty!) that have taken the light from what I want my children to feel is most important this time of year. (If that’s sounds straightforward, I mean it to; if it sounds nasty, that’s not what I’m going for.)
Good morning! It’s 6:30 in the morning at my house, and everyone is sleeping. Except for me. As usual, I’m thinking. I liked what I was thinking about so much that I rushed out of bed to write a post about it. It couldn’t wait.
Let’s talk about the word ”never.”
Never is one of those bite-you-in-the-behind words that I shouldn’t be using. But, you know what? I think I’m going to use it this morning, and I do so confidently! I will never own an automatic car or an electric sewing machine.
Let me tell you why.
Treadle sewing machines are just like stick-shift cars. They are a lost art. I won’t be without either one unless I’m dead or have legs/knees/ankles that are too arthritic to operate my clutch, brake, and gas pedals!
Today was the first day in a long time that the kids and I didn’t have a schedule to keep. That usually makes for a crazy, disorganized, kind of all-over-the-place day; but today I had a plan! Actually, I’ve had this project in my mind for months now.
Since moving in our house almost eight years ago, we have been doing nothing but home improvements. The latest major thing my husband built was a gate across our driveway. He is awesome and let my imagination guide the construction of the gate. I really wanted it painted black and a certain shape.
Matt delivered, as usual:
Literally the day I saw it finished and painted black, I came up w/ a mural for the inside of it. This side isn’t as showy and pretty as the side that you see when you pull up to the house, which is fine. But the sharp contrast of the black against the natural fencing had me immediately thinking of an all silver/white, whimsical winter theme. I actually drew it out in chalk and everything. (You can still see some of my chalk lines in the picture.) It was awesome! I had a large tree to one side that had no leaves left on it, the moon, and the silhouette of some snow-covered evergreens on a distant hill. And then I thought of my kids’ handprints as the leaves on the bare tree in the foreground. Triple 9-1-1 level awesome!
This post has been writing itself on the inside of my forehead like a flashing billboard every night when I close my eyes for about a week now, and I think I’m finally ready to write it.
Have you ever walked through the forest, looked at the towering, mature trees around you and wondered what they have lived through, what they have seen? Have you wished you could ask the trees, the nature around you to fill you in on what’s happened in their lifetimes, what generations before them had passed on to them? I think of this often, almost every time I go through the woods. Imagine the level of communication between nature and the Native Americans when things were still unsettled, when nature was shelter, entertainment, livelihood. Was this tree a favorite of a young boy seventy-five years ago? It looks like it could be about that old…
You could call it an obsession; I tend to think it’s more of an inquisitive desire to connect to what was before me. But it is always on my mind.
As a person who has never been to church more than a handful of times in my entire life, I’ve always had a sense of spirit/energy/religion for as far back as I can remember. I realized at a young age that I hated the way my insides would never let me forget if I hadn’t handled a situation optimally and felt genuinely and completely satisfied when I had performed up to my expectations. To this day, until I see otherwise, I believe that there’s value in every experience I have and every person I encounter.