Managing the Napless Transitions

The transition away from napping happens at different ages for each child, but I think it’s fair to say that, no matter their age, kids in mid-transition have it rough.  It follows, naturally, that parents of kids in mid-transition have it somewhat rough as well. 

There are sleepless rest times filled with irritated admonishments.  Long afternoons of cranky, over-tired little ones airing their exhaustion all over the place.  Early morning risings facilitated by necessarily earlier bedtimes. 

And all of the above is going on in my household at this very moment.  My three-year-old, a historically fantastic sleeper, is outgrowing her nap time.  I consider us lucky to have lasted this long, but it doesn’t make the confusion of the transition any simpler. 

Do I let her sleep on the days she will, only to have an energetic child, hyper-awake far past a normal bedtime?  Do I keep us active through nap time in the hopes that entertainment will thwart the late-afternoon grumpies?

Thankfully, we’ve been through this all before with our older child, and I’m beginning to remember our plan of attack.  Because there are plenty of days that it feels like we’re doing battle. 

First, it will help us to plan our super-energetic activities for first thing in the morning.  Some kids may benefit from the opposite, but I’ve found that letting them use their fresh, new energy early, helps our transition days go more smoothly.  Plus, if we have a play date or park time scheduled, I’d rather have those things planned during our non-grumpy hours.  This will free the afternoon up for more leeway in the mood-department.

It’s also a good idea to re-assess the child’s needs on a daily basis.  Just because she hasn’t napped for three days in a row doesn’t mean that she can last the entire week without a nap.  Still attempting a daily nap in a quiet, cool place without excess stimulation will allow her to rest just in case THIS is the day that she’s actually tired enough to sleep. 

On those golden, magical days when sleep does happen, it can be tempting to let the child stay asleep until they simply wake up, unprovoked.  But if anything is a recipe for bedtime struggles, this is it.  In order to protect a reasonable bedtime, I’ll try to limit the nap to no more than one hour.  Less, if it begins too late in the day. 

And about that bedtime.  There are some napless days that seem to beg for a crazy-early, dinner-hour bedtime.  With a cranky, overtired child, it’s all we can do to make it through the meal without disaster striking.  But as hard as those evenings can be, I’ve found that it’s most beneficial to power through until at least close to their normal bedtime, so as not to start the next day before sunrise.  Try prolonging the bedtime routine with a long, playful bath, or extra stories.  Then put them down early, but not by much: thirty minutes is often both relieving and possible. 

As hard as it is to weather the napless days that come when kids start outgrowing the need for so much sleep, it’s also a little exciting.  We can take mid-day excursions again!  Stay someplace fun without skipping home to sleep! 

And those earlier bedtimes, it must be admitted, are quite the reward at the end of a long day.

[Online version here.] 

The Winner!

If you aren't the winner of this Blue Sky giveaway, you should head over to Undercover Mother -- she's offering the same prize pack today!  So get your (dis)organized self over there...and hurry!  Her giveaway closes on August 2nd!

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The winner of the Blue Sky Planner gift pack giveaway is the lovely Stacia from Fluffy Bunnies!  Stacia, email me your address and the pack will be on its way.

Thanks, everyone, for playing along -- have a wonderful Saturday!

Just a Bunch of Random Sentences, Stacked

Kindergarten starts in a few weeks for Mia.

Preschool starts in a few weeks for Lauren.

I am 30 weeks pregnant.

We still don't have a vehicle that will hold all three children and their respective (gargantuan) carseats.

July has had an average daytime high temperature of one-hundred-and-seventy-nine degrees.  (Says Sarah the Meteorologist.)

And that doesn't include the heat index.

All students in the Joplin School District are receiving ALL of their school supplies as donations through our Bright Futures Adopt-An-Eagle program.

I cannot eat enough watermelon to maintain satisfaction.

But my belly looks like a watermelon anyway.

The swimming pool feels too warm.

I keep forgetting to shave my legs, and refuse to wear anything other than short-shorts with tank tops.

I do not forget to shave my underarms, thank heavens.

We have no baby boy nursery yet.

We are running out of time.

But the girls love the new 'playroom' that is the baby's future home.

I cannot see my feet.

I'm cool with that.

We found another dead animal in our yard: a headless, juvenile opossum.

We think it was decapitated by an owl.

Our floors have been re-floored this week, and BOY am I glad that's finished.

My pelvic bones are crunching together in a side-by-side grind these days.

I'm not cool with that.

Hence, the waddling.

I plan on making this sometime this weekend, and consuming it with zero assistance, whatsoever.

(Hence, the extra waddling.)


What's running, rampant and unedited, through your mind on this last Friday of July?

Bigger Picture Moment: Grunge Lullabies

September, 2000

Nineteen-year old Justin sat perched on the edge of his bed, one long leg hanging off to the floor.  His head was bent; long, soccer-player locks fell across his forehead and almost obscured his chocolate-honey eyes.  His arms cradled a guitar; strong, mesmerizing fingers strummed and chorded while he played me a serenade. 

I, on the other corner of the bed, melted.  He was so passionate.  So talented.  So handsome. 

Shaking the hair from his face, he looked up at me and grinned, highlighting the sexy scar on his cheek.  He must have been able to read my temperature.  Seeing that I was swooning into adoration, he switched quickly into a Nirvana riff.  Then Green Day.  Then Bush: Glycerine.  We laughed and sang off-key to our favorite 90's grunge.

I was so in love with this man I'd only known for a month.

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July, 2011

Thirty-year old Justin sat perched on the arm of our couch.  We'd unearthed an old, dusty guitar from the depths of our closet.  In the middle of the cleaning storm required for new flooring throughout the entire house, this was one of the happy surprises: remember this, Sarah?  An out-of-tune Green Day song rolled through the house, echoing off the new, hard floors. 

The girls jumped in small circles around him, begging for him to play music! play music!  He spent most of their bedtime tuning the guitar into something resembling a pitch, and then....Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. 

It was a serenade.  A lullaby.  A halting attempt to remember the shape of a chord. 

The girls fell in love with this guitar-playing hero with powerful, gentle arms, and capable hands.  His back strained in concentration with white-tshirt stretched across shoulders that effortlessly carry children, piggy-back style. 

Later, he looked up the chording for a few of the girls' favorite songs: Five Speckled Frogs, Baby Bumblebee, Kookaburra.  He wants to surprise them with new material tomorrow night.

I'm so in love with this man I've only known for 11 years.


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It's occurring to me that I'm spending a lot of Bigger Picture musings on my husband, lately.  But it's true: he's so entwined in what makes my life special and memorable, that I can't help but share some of it with you.  Even if it makes me seem like a gushing bride.  Perhaps that's what I am, after all; I like it: it feels like floating on rivers of chocolate-honey while listening to grunge lullabies.  Quite a unique feeling, really.

We're seeing the Bigger Picture through simple moments -- moments that force us to stop and take notice of the ways our worlds are important, meaningful, and beautiful. Please join us at Melissa's place today! Grab the button, link up and then go forth to encourage the two people before you as they walk this journey of intentional living.

Lauren the Vaudeville Bride

"Someday, mama, I will be getting married, did you know?"

She is dancing around the bedroom while I brush my teeth and put on a few swipes of wakening mascara.  Somehow, her statement doesn't frighten me or make me contemplate the rush of progressive time; I smile and giggle back at her tenderly voiced dream. 

From where she's acquired the dream, I don't really know.  Mia, her inspiration in most flights of fancy, hasn't lately mentioned the prospect of a groom in any near or far future.  Nevertheless, this talk of marriage has popped up once before, and now here again, in the bedroom before our day begins. 

"You're going to be married?" I repeat, in awe, with big eyes and much encouragement for her to continue. 

She dips her chin, bats her eyelashes -- such coy and alluring behavior from a three-year-old, especially enchanting because she's not big on princess movies yet; this is pure Lauren's imagination -- and goes on:

"Yes."  Her hands are crossed behind her back as she sways on one foot while the other points delicately to one side.  "I'm going to be married and...and then I will dance with my daddy."

Now this draws the first true heart-tug from me.  Such sweetness and innocent hope...I turn around from the sink where I've been occupied, and soak up the vision she creates.

Her pose; her dipped head; her favorite, purple-flowered outfit (half a size too small on her growing frame); her glowing, light-brown, wavy hair.

And at the peak of her rosebud upper lip, a splotch of dark blue marker marrs the perfection in such a stunning Charlie Chaplin imitation that I must -- must -- swoop her into my arms for a hug and kiss before we move into the day's adventures. 

Which will begin with a warm washcloth to the upper-lip.

Organization -- Finally! (And a Giveaway from Blue Sky!)

The trouble with me + planning is that I always start out really gung-ho, and then my efforts at timely organization seem to fall by the wayside after a few days of effort.  I think it's because I DO begin so forcefully that I can't possibly keep up with my own momentum.  I become all bluster and no follow-through.  All talk and no action.  All hope and no reality.

But on my horizon, there are a few things that are having the tendency to FREAK me out about my lack of organization:

1.  We are having our entire home re-floored this week.
2.  I want to take two family road trips between now and September.
3.  Mia starts Kindergarten next month.
4.  Baby Boy is due in October.
5.  My house is a mess.
6.  I forget what else, but let me assure you, there is lots of 'else'.

The only thing I've done in preparation for any of this is to compile detailed lists in my head, jot down a reminder or two on soon-to-be-lost scraps of paper, and wring my hands helplessly together.

Let's face it: I'm terrible at organizing our family's life at this point in the game.  I'm keeping us afloat, but only because I'm displacing the waters by sheer luck.  And I keep waiting for those waters to float me away, whilst I forget everything that needs to be done.

But here's the silver lining: somebody has thrown me a life-raft.

The kind folks behind the Blue Sky Home Series have sent me a sampling of their newest line of dated organizing products, and for the past month, I've been saved. 

My favorite product in their lineup is the 8x10 weekly/monthly planner.  It's slim and sturdy, with plenty of room for detailing what our weeks will look like...

and keeping all of my lists in one place...

plus it lays flat on my desk -- next to me at all times -- so I can immediately add to its calendar or remind myself of the day's events.

I know -- it's just a calendar, really.  And couldn't a regular wall or desk calendar do the same thing?  Probably.  But I've never been too enamored with wall calendars for ease of use, and desk calendars either seem to take up my entire workspace, or become messy and ripped over time.  Plus, the Blue Sky planner is pretty. Really pretty.  They've teamed up with Susy Jack Contemporary Paper to make a line of products that are eye catching but not flashy.  Beautiful, but not obtrusive.  They're simple and clean and lovely -- perfect for keeping me company at all times.

But the coolest part about this planner is that its calendar begins in July, not January.  Because whose busy year actually begins in January?  I need a calendar that begins when I do -- which, this year, is right now.  I don't have to wait for a new supply of January-starting products to line the shelves before getting myself organized.

Plus, there's a giant stack of lined note pages in the back of the planner -- fabulous, because I don't want to carry a notepad and a calendar to my few meetings, but I want to have plenty of space to write. 

And the tabs for each month make me happy. 

Also nice, but not quite as useful to me as the planner, are the grocery list, mousepad, and door notes.  The door notes are a cute idea, but I just can't get past the kitschy-ness of the product and the extra clutter they would add to my entryway.  I know a few teenagers that might benefit from it, though...

The grocery list has come in handy for making sure I take note of what I need to buy as soon as I run out -- it clings nicely to the fridge with strong magnets -- but I don't necessarily love being trapped into only a few lines for each category.  Still, I can definitely see the appeal for many busy moms. 

But there are some other products in their lineup that have caught my eye -- and I'm sure would catch yours, too.  Take a look and let me know what you think.

And in the meantime, Blue Sky has generously offered to provide one of my readers with the same sample package I received (8x10 planner, magnetic grocery checklist pad, mouse pad, and door notes)! 

To enter this giveaway, simply leave me a comment describing your feelings towards organization: are you flummoxed by it all?  Are you an organizing genius?  Whatever the case, tell me a little bit about your status quo, and you'll be entered to win.

For an extra entry, tweet about the giveaway and copy the link into a separate comment.

That's it!  Super easy!  I hope you'll love the Blue Sky Home Series as much as I've begun to -- a little bit of assistance in the organization department has made all the difference, and I want that for YOU, too!



This giveaway, (sponsored entirely by Blue Sky) will close at 6 PM on Friday, July 29th.  The randomly chosen winner will then be contacted by email.  Good luck!

This giveaway is now closed -- thanks for entering!

weekly Column: Summertime's Doldrums

If the gray, frozen days of February are the usual host to cabin fever, July is giving us a second taste this year. 

With temperatures hovering near ‘absurdly hot’ for weeks on end, we’ve tried to play it safe weather-wise; if it’s not early morning or we’re not splashing in a mildly-cool swimming pool, we limit our outdoor hours.   We’ve stretched the bounds of how long we can stay outside, breaking down when our cheeks are feverishly pink and even the shade is miserable.  For the most part, that means we’ve been spending a record number of hours inside.

That’s fine for a few days, but just as with February’s doldrums, we’re getting bored.  And what is there to do inside on a hot, otherwise gorgeous summer day?

Apparently, there’s much arguing to be had.  There is plenty of whining, a fair dose of grumpiness, and a smattering of irritation. 

And that’s not even counting the kids’ moods. 

So how can we beat the dog days of summer (and their accompanying boredom)?  Here’s what I’ll be trying:

Find other venues

There are cool buildings scattered all over town just waiting to alleviate my family’s malaise.  And some of them will do it for free.  The library is the easiest answer, not only because they have thousands of books with which we can entertain ourselves; they also have plenty of activities and exhibits planned for the summer months.  We’ll also find time to cozy up to the mall, the pet store, a local conservation museum and maybe even a few bouncy-houses.  Consider them field trips, if you will – whatever it takes to convince you that you’re not merely loafing in their cool air.

Ask for ideas

The kids, while also bored and antsy to stretch their legs, may be our best source of inspiration.  I’ll be sure to ask them what they’d like to do, and I’ll do my level best to allow it.  Crafts for an entire day?  Why not?!  Transform the living room into a giant fort?  Sure!  Help mom clean out the closets to make way for new fall additions?  Absolutely!  (And if waiting to hear that last idea takes forever, I’ll move on to the next suggestion, which is…)

Include the kids in necessary work

While I have yet to try this out on older kids (and I assume they might be less receptive), my preschoolers are usually up for a good game of ‘sweep the floor’ or ‘wipe the mirrors.’  As long as it’s accompanied with some upbeat music or even a bit of friendly competition, they’re willing partners.

Make a temporary routine

I might sit down alone or with help from the kids, and create a plan.  I’ll pencil-in mandatory time each day for creativity (cooking, crafting, etc.), indoor physical activity, and relaxation.  Knowing that our days won’t just be spent waiting for something to happen next might carry us through the heat without noticing that we’re stuck inside.  For example, if there’s a movie to look forward to later, I can see that making our day feel less mundane.  Maybe a week planned in advance would be best, because then we can…

Hope for a reprieve

The heat has to end sometime, right?  And when it does, we’ll ditch the indoor plan, run outside, and get back to the glory days of summer.  Comfortably.

[Online version here.]

Apparently, This Has Become a "How's the Weather?" Blog

If we ignore it with enough dedication...

Do you think there's a chance...

The temperatures might drop below 'baking'...

Any time soon?

Bigger Picture Moment: It's The Whispers

This is about the simple things, right?  Those things that are so forgettable that we tend to overlook them in their moments, and gloss quickly to the next item in our day.  Skipping right to the awful, the frustrating, the mind-blowing, the hilarious.

Which leaves a day full of whispers that we won't hear if we don't stop for a bit.  Focus.

So here goes the focus.  The simple things I've been appreciating lately in an attempt to hear the whispers:

A breeze on wet skin
Curly baby-hairs after a swim
Impromptu dance parties
Watermelon
Melted marshmallows stuck to cheeks
Mama?  I need a hug.
Wide, shy eyes
Squealing over grasshopper hunts
Elbows and heels stretching my middle out
Daddy's hooooome!!!
Sweaty glasses of ice water
A new box of crayons
Kitchen helpers
Moonlit nights serenaded by bugs
A pillow supporting this belly
An email from a friend
The smell of sunscreen
Vacuum tracks on the floor
Here, Mia!  You can have one of mine!
Oranges
Shade
Beds made by a 5-year-old
Songs made by a 3-year-old
There you go, Lauren -- I found your blankie.
Cold hose water
A task checked off a list
An unexpected refund
Sisters holding hands
An early bedtime
Giggles in the dark with my husband
I want to help, mama!


And if you put all of those whispers together, it becomes quite overwhelmingly loud.  Louder than all the heat and bickering and possibility for disaster.  Louder than boredom.  Louder than frustration.  Louder than perfect days and perfect outcomes.  So loud, in fact, that they become the truth of our days, and all the other things become peripheral.

The whispers are the things that will sustain us when we're old, thinking back on our days as young families, making our lined faces crinkle with remembered laughter.  The whispers will remain when all the major things fall by the wayside.  It's the whispers that matter most.

But only if we take the time to notice them.

What have you heard from your whispers these days?  Share them with us today at Undercover Mother, where our Bigger Picture Moments are all spilling forth.  It's easy!  Link your post, grab the button, and visit other participants' moments.  We love hearing about you!

Simple Summer Schemes: Scavenging

Although we've seen some daunting things outside this summer, we're still trying to get out there at least a little bit.  And to help encourage that (actually, to help encourage me), we needed a specific activity that would provide some distraction from the heat.

I've never put together a scavenger hunt for the girls, and they were SO excited to get started!  It has to be the easiest 'project' I've ever planned.  Really -- you should do a scavenger hunt today!


What You'll Need:
Uhm...nothing, really.
Maybe a bucket or basket or bag with which to collect your treasures?  But that's totally optional.

1.  If you have time, type up a fun list of things the kids will search for outside.  Otherwise, just jot down a few notes on a scrap of paper.  Here's what mine looked like:

 

I had a lot of spare fonting energy or something...


2.  After helping the little ones read the list, head outside!  Let them lead the way; I wanted to go directly down the block and search away from our own yard (can you blame me?), but they stuck close to home for quite a while.  (With faithful lovies in tow, naturally.)

3.  Some add-on options for making a scavenger hunt more interesting for older kids or more time-consuming on comfortable days could include giving them a camera and making it a photo scavenger hunt, or just letting them carry a journal in which they can draw a picture of each thing they locate.  You could also make it harder by being very specific with items for big kids to find: an oak leaf, a Japanese beetle, a parallelogram (what? It's possible...), etc.


4.  Here are some of our finds, over which the girls squealed and screamed each time:

Something purple!

A piece of fruit -- crab apples!

Moss!

An acorn with a hat! (Yes, this one is a bit tiny, but still...)

Something fuzzy!  (They tried to use the dead rabbit for this one, but...)

5.  Oh!  And my girls particularly enjoyed checking items off the list.  Such a sense of accomplishment. 

The items we couldn't locate (animal tracks, a feather, a pinecone), we've agreed to keep our eyes open for to find another day.  Maybe on another scavenger hunt, which they're hoping to do again SOON!  They loved this one.

So what are you waiting for?! 

Get to scavenging!  It's Heavenly House approved!  (A blessing of the most sophisticated sort....)

How To Enjoy Summer (If You're Desperate)

You guys, it's hot.  I mean hawwwwwttttt. 

I know you know what I mean, too, because apparently our country is in the midst of the hottest summer on record (and I feel like I'm half-making that statement up...but I swear I heard it somewhere...anybody know the truth?), so chances are good that you're moaning miserably somewhere, too, even though that may be half a country away from me. 

It's occurring to me now just how lucky I am to be in my third trimester this July.  The July of the hottest summer on record.  (I'm sticking with it.) 

So what do I do in July, in my third trimester?  I take the kids outside, of course.  As long as it's before 9AM, I mean.  And only on the shaded side of the house.  And only to make myself feel better about the long, indoor afternoon we'll have ahead of us. 

Imagine us, if you will:

Three Heavenly Ladies -- two, little and sweet, if sweaty, and one, LARGE and round and drenched glowing. 

We traipse across the porcupine-esque landscape of our yard, maybe attending to our fairy house,

maybe looking with longing towards the scalding surface of the swingset.  (One of us looking with longing towards the air-conditioned house...)  We find things to keep us busy for a few measly, though suffocating, minutes. 

One day, it's a snakeskin curled up in an empty stump by the woods. 

This, I admit, is kind of cool.  Plus, it leads to some fun in the way of impromptu learning.  After telling them all I know about why snakes shed their skin, and contemplating where the snake is now, we get to go inside and do more research on the internet.  We get to call daddy and regale him with our discovery.

We get to decorate our fairy house with a garland of empty, papery skin.

Another day, we make the startling deduction that grasshoppers actually fly as well as hop.  Another day, we notice that the garden (the poor, nibbled, neglected garden) is overflowing with weeds.  But we can't stay out there long enough to clean it up.  (Plus, mama is somewhat convinced that the giant, skinless snake is lying there in wait, in the only growing vegetation for many yards.)

And then comes a day which will live in infamy. 

The day of the dead rabbit. 

It's not as startling to the children as I think it should be, which is why it takes me a second to remember that I should warn them not to touch the 'beautiful fur' of this poor, mangled fella.  They obey, but wonder why?  Why can't they touch it?  Well, more impromptu learning opportunities abound, and now they know that dead flesh is home to lots and lots of nastiness in the way of germs and bugs and lord only knows what else. 

Not to mention, HEY!  The bunny's been sitting in the hot summer sun for some untold number of hours, and mama might gag if you step any closer to deduce what's been eating the thing. 

Away we go, on our merry travels to the street, where surely we can walk without coming across any expired rodents.  The walk is good.  We are sufficiently melted when we call it a morning and ooze our way back to the house.

But the biggest girl -- the one who isn't afraid of real things, only imaginary things -- races around the house for one last glimpse at the carrion in our back yard.  I agree, as long as she promises not to touch it.  I wait in the shade for her return, thankful that hubby will arrive like a knight in shining armor to remove the carcass from our premises sometime in the coming hours.

Sadly, I do not suspect that the biggest girl's curiosity will allow her to do what happens next.

Which is --

the thing she does --

bending over the rabbit until her nose is mere centimeters away --

to sniff a giant whiff of Eau de Offal.

Well, she just wanted to know what it might smell like.  It's something I've never stopped to wonder, you know?  But now she knows: "That smelled disgusting." 

Oh, summer.  You're a thing of wonder, indeed.

8 Weeks Later, In Photos

And an opportunity to help!  Read on!

New telephone poles are stark against the nothingness of the worst-hit streets.

 

On nearly every other block it seems, roads are closed for massive debris removal.

But some of the most massive of debris removal projects -- schools, the hospital, office buildings -- are still in waiting.

Still, the cleared spaces are immense.  This corner used to be an assortment of apartments, offices, and homes.  Now they're mostly dusty lots.

Pride of citizenship and survival is evident everywhere; this building is destroyed but well-decorated.  (One day after this photo was taken, the whole thing was bulldozed; the forward motion of cleanup is unstoppable.)

Down the street, on a building that is safe from bulldozing, more art has erupted.

And it is beautiful.

Also beautiful are the creations that have been born from the trunks of ruined trees.  These used to line the lawn of the high school for the past...how many years?...80?  I don't know; they were old and regal, though.  Now they're proof of a city's spirit.  Sculptural gifts.

(Want to help with other gifts?  Joplin schools are in desperate need of school supplies for destroyed classrooms and libraries; one way to help is by going to Funds4Books.org and donating to Joplin's library-replenishing fund.  I hope to have more information soon about an Adopt-a-Classroom program going on now.  Because students will be back to school in one month...with very little in the way of classroom materials in many cases.)

The trees that have sprouted tufts of foliage, I'm told, will not, after all, survive.  But they seem so plucky and resilient in the meantime.

The home with the comfortably arranged furniture has now also been decorated with signatures and notes of hope from volunteers and residents.

I'm glad it hasn't been torn down yet, though I wonder how long it will stand.  The city is deliberate in its hope to keep moving forward, and quickly.

Speaking of volunteers, and speaking of quickly, this home was fixed and remodeled (and furnished) for a single father and his children by a group called Operation Blessing. Work was completed in only 10 days.

And at the top of a gorgeous, though now bare hill, a stately, tortured tree stands next to a raised American flag.  And for all the clout of the flag, I believe the proud tree holds its own against the stars and stripes.

I feel like I'm trying to hold back and not constantly talk about the tornado and its effects, both because I want to focus on other things sometimes and because I don't want to inundate or overwhelm you.  But...is there anything specific you've been wondering or thinking about the tornado or the city?  Any information I might be able to provide?  More donation opportunities?  I'm at your disposal :)

Weekly Column: Outdoor Freedom

One of the easiest ways to have fun with kids is to get outside with them as a family. 

Besides occupying a boring stretch of time, being outdoors together forces us to embrace the exercise and imagination we’re always encouraging in our children.  When they see us participating in playtime, it promotes their interest in more: more time away from television or video games, more time discovering the world, more time growing in new and creative ways.

We become proof for them that being outside is fun and easy.

And while those benefits are obvious and desirable, there is also much to be said for letting kids venture outside on their own. 

I’ve noticed that there is never so much freedom of imagination and unstructured playing as when my kids are allowed to be by themselves.  Instead of depending on me to provide ways to fill their time, they have to think of it on their own, which always leads to different endeavors than I would have suggested. 

They make collections of acorns or favorite rocks.  They find endless entertainment in transporting twigs or branches into a pretend campfire.  There are hours of imaginary play that happens under the swingset or in the garden.  Bug-watching, berry smashing, butterfly hunting – these are more simple activities than I would have thought to be entertaining, but they love it.  They don’t need a structured game or plan much of the time; they just go. 

It’s true that their age plays an important role in this equation – I wouldn’t be comfortable with setting a tiny toddler loose in the backyard unsupervised – but I also think that we don’t give our little ones enough credit for being able to follow simple guidelines or use their judgment in finding ways to keep busy.  I also feel comfortable with the parameters in which we allow them to wander.  The scope of our yard is such that there is nowhere they are allowed to go that is out of my eyesight from a nearby window or porch. 

But even if you feel like it’s impossible in your neighborhood to let them be alone outside, there are still ways to let them experience that independence of play while getting out of their way.  Sitting back with a book or notepad lets them know that we’re close by, but occupied enough to not allow their dependence on our direct involvement.  In this case, it’s important not to model reliance upon electronics like laptops or phones to keep ourselves entertained while we expect differently of them.

And I admit that it can be cringe-inducing to watch them muddy themselves in pursuit of the perfect mud-pie without stepping in to moderate or discourage, but those activities are part of letting them discover their own entertainment. 

My daughters are slowly getting used to the idea of freedom outside.  They scamper in the back door with requests for help or unresolved arguments fairly often, but the more we experiment with a lack of parental presence, the easier it becomes for them to fill their outdoor hours without adult intervention. 

And the more they desire that freedom.

It’s bittersweet, watching them grow up enough not to need their parents for entertainment every moment of the day.  The only question then becomes….

How will we keep ourselves busy without them?

[Online version here.]

An Addendum to the Romance

Something else romance is after 11 years of togetherness?  Sarcastic.  And trouble-making.


Scene: Justin and Sarah are watching an episode of Smallville (oh yes -- they are serious fans) in which Clark has to say goodbye to the meteor-infected Lana.  He is rendered allergic to her, but fights his way through the anguish and torturous pain in order to kiss her one last, passionate time.

Sarah: *sighing with misty eyes; fishing for compliments*  Would you fight your way through impossible pain and torture beyond measure just to kiss me?
Justin:  *with deep emotion* Absolutely, baby.  A million times over.
Sarah:  *swooning*
Justin:  In fact, I do it every morning when you roll over with morning breath.  TORTURE.

End Scene.
Begin gut-punching.

This Moment: Flying

{inspired by Soulemama}  "A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember."

Bigger Picture Moment: This Is Romance

You know how when you were first dating, and you gazed at your gorgeous boyfriend across a crowded room, your heart did little flutters?  Maybe you got a flash of remembering the perfect good-night kiss from last night, and you tingled into the depths of your (amazingly flat, pre-baby) belly.  And as you had that memory, he would catch your eye, grin like he was remembering it too, and you'd have to look away to stop the blush from creeping into your brain and coloring everything rosy before directing you to burst into a ballad about true love and tenderness and passion?

Well, this isn't about that, exactly. 

This is better. 

------------

The sun was falling as we sat in a growing slice of shade from the cliff above us.  Our table on the patio held a few drinks, a scattering of kids' paraphernalia, and empty spaces waiting for our food to be delivered.  Thankfully, there was a generous breeze -- that and the cool stone wall at our backs kept us from noticing the summer evening's heat. 

The girls wove themselves around and through a crowd of restaurant goers, many of whom were our own family, gathered for a birthday party.  They giggled and dove and raced -- all acceptable activities at this outdoor patio.

In the seat across from me, I caught Justin's eye, and he winked.  A crinkle of eye and curve of lip.  A relaxed hand resting on the tabletop. A glance in the kids' direction and an appreciative shake of the head at their energy. 

With the sunlight becoming filtered and relaxed, he looked like a celebrity, hiding away at a small-town outdoor grill to get away from it all.

But he wasn't.  He sat at the table to get into it all: the family, the laughter, the winking, the relaxing, the completeness of a life with wife and kids.

This is romance, friends. 

It is sometimes hurried and forgotten; it is sometimes caressed and sheltered; it is sometimes managed and scheduled; it is sometimes slow and simple; it is sometimes hilarious and easy; it is sometimes tender and tearful....

It is sometimes a touching of toes under an outdoor table while you watch your kids playing in the shade of a cliff on a hot summer evening.

And I still want to burst into ballads about it.

We're seeing the Bigger Picture through simple moments -- moments that force us to stop and take notice of the ways our worlds are important, meaningful, and beautiful. Please join us at Alita's place today! Grab the button, link up and then go forth to encourage the two people before you as they walk this journey of intentional living.

Simple Summer Schemes: Fishy Art

Most of the things that keep us busy on summer days require little to no planning: swimming, fairy-house making, porching*, reading, etc.  But today's activity takes just the teensiest bit of forethought in the cutting department.  Teensy.  And if you let the kids help you get everything prepared, it whiles away a good chunk of the day!  Perfect for keeping us busy on a long summer morning.

You'll need:
Poster board (or something similar)
Card Stock (or construction paper)
Tissue Paper/Wrapping Paper
Glue
Scissors

Full mom-with-no-creativity disclosure:  We totally picked up a book from the library and chose which cut-and-paste activity we wanted to do this day.  The girls are interested in sea life lately, and this book was filled with underwater ideas.  Inspiration for free!

1. From two different colors of card stock or construction paper, cut out a fish body, fish head, two fins, and a tail.  They might look something like this:

2.  From a variety of tissue papers or wrapping papers, cut out a few dozen different colored ovals.  These will be the fish scales. 

I think we used somewhere around 15-20 scales per fish, depending on how closely they were crowded.  And the cutting went quickly once I realized that I could cut an entire stack of scales at once, rather than singly.  Doy.

3. Glue the body onto the poster board.  (Instead of poster board, we used the cut-off top of an old clothing gift box.)  With little ones, I think it's easier to give them a bowl of glue and a paint brush, rather than a bottle to squirt haphazardly.  But do as you like!

4. Start gluing scales onto the fish body, starting at the rear to allow for overlapping.  Stop scales just short of the fish head, which will now be glued on top of everything.  Finally, attach the fins and tail.

5. Draw a fishy little eyeball with a black marker (or glue on a google-eye if you have a spare lying around) , and there's your fish! 

6. I'll admit that this wasn't the most creativity-inducing activity, but we had a lot of fun cutting and arranging our shapes and painting with glue...

And a little pre-arranged art can be rewarding!  The girls loved their fish creations, and spent the morning giving them imaginary adventures and deciding where to decorate our walls with them. 


What do you think?  Are formulated art projects fun or restricting?  Where would YOU hang this fish?  And most importantly, what sources do you use for inspiring your childrens' art projects?



* I don't actually know if porching is a real thing, but we do it anyway.  Here's the down-low: Go play.  On the porch.  In the shade.  While the sun is too hot to play in the dying yard.  Bring a giant tub of water, some squirting toys, sidewalk chalk, a few snacks...et voila!  PORCHING.

Swim Lessons Vs. Water Torture

I remember lining up perpendicular to a giant public pool, behind rows of other, unknown children.  I wore my Tweety Bird bathing suit, and a smooth-dark tan from hours of outdoor play.

In turns, we each stepped forward until our toes hung over the edge of the concrete where an instructor was waiting to receive our jumping bodies into the water.  It was a procession.  A lineup.  A scalding wait before a cooling splash.

That part of swimming lessons, I have no negative memories towards.  As for the scalding wait, I was a child -- we were impervious, weren't we?  Neither freezing water nor burning sun could keep us from enjoying the summer.

The spine-stiffening feelings come when I remember the deep end.  I don't know if it was the norm in 1989 for swim instructors to hold reluctant children under the water for unendurable seconds, or if this particular teacher was merely terrifying in his or her stringency.  (Isn't it funny that I don't remember if the instructor was male or female?  I only remember the fright...)  In the part of lessons that encourage breath-holding and head-dunking, we were ushered to where we could no longer touch bottom, and released from the instructor's arms.  I remember the weight of a hand on my head, and one on my shoulder.  I remember the rush of water into my ears and the diminishing bubbles I emitted.  I remember gasping and choking at the surface, once the lesson had been successfully imparted.

My mom never sent be back.  (It's really no wonder I so dislike the feeling of being submerged, now is it?)

All I can say is, Thank God for better swim instructors here in the 21st century. 

Mia is in a class with one other student, and her teacher is the picture of joyful encouragement.  The peaceful helper.  The enthusiastic cheerleader.  The skillful instructor.

And Mia has confided that swim lessons are her very favorite thing, ever.  She wishes they could last forever and ever into eternity and beyond.

With these kind of wonderful lessons, I wish they could, too.

Weekly Column: Summer Learning

In a few family and parenting magazines I’ve picked up recently, publishers are reporting on an intriguing new study about children’s education.  The study by RAND Corp. and Wallace Foundation points to the newly-documented but long-suspected loss of learning in school aged children during summer vacations.  It can leave parents wondering how to help combat those losses.  After all, none of us want to see our kids fall behind if there are simple ways to keep their brains agile all summer long. 

At the same time, many of us still hold a special place in our hearts for the unstructured benefits of a summer spent in discovery and play and nature.  But creating a summer filled with beneficial learning opportunities doesn’t always mean that our kids need to be enrolled in summer school or private programs.  Though those are helpful options for many parents, they aren’t the only options. 

Before we start assuming we don’t have the resources to continue our children’s education after school lets out, we just need to refocus what the purpose of summer learning actually needs to be. 

Letting our kids’ brains grow in the off-season doesn’t have to be intimidating.  We don’t have to be professionals with lesson plans, pounding new information into their heads.  Rather, summertime can be about practice.  It can be as simple as listening to their interests, gauging their skill-levels, and providing chances for those two factors to intersect. 

If they’re having a ton of fun making homemade ice cream, we can research together the scientific properties that come together to make the deliciousness possible.  They can measure cream and sugar and decide how much salt is needed to help the ice melt just slowly enough.  If they loved seeing the penguin habitat at the zoo, finding books we can read aloud together to prolong their interest is both easy and diverting. 

Consider summer plans, even if they are a purposeful lack of plans, and find ways to incorporate the practice of school-year skills which can so easily fall by the wayside.  Opportunities are everywhere.

Even in the time-honored childhood tradition of a summer lemonade stand, our kids will use math to plan how much of an ingredient is needed to sell a certain number of drinks.  They’ll need more math to calculate sale totals and return change.  Art and writing skills will be used in helping them craft and create an enticing sign. 

If we’ll be going on a family vacation, we could encourage our kids of all ages to keep travel journals.  They may never imagine that their records are actually helping them use and develop important grammar and writing practice, thus keeping those skills fresh for the upcoming school year.  And if we plan to visit famous historic or geographic sites, a stop by the library first to gather reading material will encourage them to learn more about their travels and boost their reading skills.

At home, try to limit screen time so that any summer experience, whether educational in nature or purely unstructured fun, will enhance their memories and allow time for discovery.  It’s also important – not only in summertime – to give ourselves time for family read-aloud sessions.  We must encourage questions and be willing to learn something new ourselves. 

Because that old adage that calls parents the first, best teachers has withstood the test of time for a reason: it’s true.

And summer is the perfect time to put it into practice once again.

[Online version here.]