“One of my teeth are loose.”

Then giddy excitement on my part.  You see, my son is 7 1/2 and this is his first lost tooth.  But that giddiness quickly gave way to fear.  Sadness.  It was a reminder that as much as I love my babies and want them to stay just the way they are forever, they are growing up.  Literally, before my eyes.

The tooth was out before 6 o’clock that night.  Fast.  The dentist said it was probably because all the roots had dried up before, eww, and the tooth was just being held in by the skin, like all the others cause there ain’t any other loose ones, and when it got hit, wallah…out it came.

So, in sudden need of a tooth fairy pillow, I got to work.  I don’t have any photos, cause that is how much of a hurry I was in, but I have photos of the finished product and will walk you through what I did.

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I basically grabbed my scrap fabric, matched some colors up and grabbed some ribbon that matched those.  I made the pillow a square, I sewed the blue part of the square on the front first, then I hot glued the ribbons on so I could get them straight.  I stitched them on to be double safe, but obviously wasn’t going to re-thread the machine to match each color, I had like an hour.  I then made the little tooth pocket out of some leftover felt fabric and stitched the ‘My Tooth’ in with brown floss.  I then sewed the little pockets edges together.

Then I turned her inside out and sewed the edges of the big square.  I also sewed the blue ribbon for the door hanger on the back too.  After turning it right side out again, I glue gunned the little pocket to the front, let it dry, then stuffed it with stuffing. I hand stitched the opening closed at the blue ribbon.

I tied a little brown bow and glued it on to the front. I would have sewed the bow on, and there are a billion tiny mistakes in this, but time was of the essence.  I wish now father time had been on my side, I would have done it perfectly the first time around, but sometimes in motherhood, ok most times in motherhood, nothing is perfect the first time around.  And us perfectionist types, we just have to breathe and start again. Pin It
My son left a little note for the tooth fairy asking if he could keep his tooth.  This makes life so much easier.  I didn’t want to throw them away, but I didn’t want to really keep them either.  Now he decides!

Stay tuned for a pink pillow to follow…

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Last night I was on a cleaning spree after dinner and realized that I actually like to clean best at night.  Sort of a way to wrap up the loose ends of the day.  Or get focused on something that will show instant results after a day filled with plenty of things, none of which show instant results.

I like to sleep in in the morning.  I don’t like to get up early.  I can make myself.  But then I need a nap.  Naps are hard to take when you are a Mom.  Of kids.  Who also have activities in the afternoons.  And since I haven’t had coffee in exactly 36 days, that isn’t going to be helpful anymore.

I like to read before bed.  And nothing else.  It calms me down and rests my brain enough to get a good nights sleep.  It eases me into my zzz’s the way the campfire did for our ancestors.  This way I am not thinking of 100 cool things I want to try that I just saw on Pinterest.  Or all the blog posts I could write.  Or, the pages in the book I should have elaborated on.  Nope, just a bit or a reprieve from my life before lights out.

I enjoy having less on my schedule.  I have been allowing the flurry of activities slowly to dissipate over the last month or so and am just beginning to feel the benefits.  More time for me.  More time for the kids.  I am calmer and not always frazzled trying to get it all in.  And I am finding things I want to do and actually know that I have time to do them now.

I think it has taken another reality check with my health to really stop and ask myself if I am being mindful of what nurtures me or am I ignoring that and plowing through just. to. keep. going.   I am lucky enough to be one that can actually follow her rhythms.  I don’t have to race out to a job at 6 AM.  I don’t have to clean on another persons time table.  Of course my husband would beg to differ…but in reading a book about adrenal fatigue she really suggested that you find your rhythms and stick to them as often as you can.

I think in our society we have so gotten away from the natural rhythm of things.  The seasons.  Our own clocks.  Family time.  We ignore our kids personal rhythms.  We have even dropped away from the rhythm of our own breath.  I know I have.

January is not YET the season of action.  You feel as if you need to move because you have just made a few resolutions you are ready to get started on.  But this time of year is still begging us to remain going within for just a little bit longer.  The days getting longer slowly ease us back into activity, they don’t throw us back in on January 1st because we decide to lose weight, or be more adventurous, or get over our fears.  So maybe, just for now, as we edge out of our winter cocoons, we can take some time to be mindful of what our own natural cycles are and nurture them.  Love them.  Honor them.  Accept them as part of the gift we are to ourselves, and to those around us.

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I started watching Food Network for some reason when I was pregnant with my son.  I was SO sick, I could barely eat a thing.  A bagel.  That is what I could eat.  For like 7 months.  After those first seven months I was still nauseous a lot, but I could eat a bit more than a bagel.  So instead of eating I watched others make food.

Strange but true.

Fast forward a year, and I was sick again.  This time pregnant with my daughter and oh so ill that the emergency room doctor said it was the worst case of dehydration he had ever seen, after they tried drawing blood but what they got was more like sludge.  After my return home from spending three months at my sisters house because I could not take care of myself or my son, we spent a lot of time in the house alone, with Food Network.

In fact every afternoon we both fell asleep together on the couch to Giada, Ina, and the lady with all the butter Paula Dean.  By age two my son had his favorite food network shows of his own; Jamie At Home and now Guy Fieri.  I don’t have as much time to watch T.V. these days, and really the only reason we have Dish Network is so we can keep Food Network for me when one of those days comes along in which I actually have a moment to enjoy a show about food.

I am religious about watching The Next Food Network Star and The Next Iron Chef  though.  Others like Chopped and Cupcake Wars I catch when I am sick and in bed all day on a Saturday and they are doing a marathon.

Maybe, just maybe, I watch because I cannot cook like that.  Because I am a mess in the kitchen with a few hits here and there and a whole bunch of misses everywhere.  Some part of me would love to go to culinary school right now at this moment. But what is a stay at home Mom going to do with that except cook for her family, which would be great for them, but not really realistic for financial reasons?

Maybe as a philosopher and an artist, I am inspired when the two come together in such a magnificent way you feel blessed somehow watching it.  That is how I felt about Chef Zakarian and his battle to become the Next Iron Chef this season.  I know, I know it sounds ridiculously cheesy.  But somehow watching the finale yesterday I got the sense of an artist putting his passion for food and life together with his values and philosophical leanings in a way that screams “This is what I was meant to do”, and not in a prideful, egotistical way, but in a way in which only magic comes forth.

Maybe I am even a little jealous because I still don’t know ‘what I am supposed to do’, and with that knowledge I will probably not hit a moment in my life where it all comes together in such a way that I sit back and say to myself, “Of course, of course this is where I would be right now at this moment.”  I sorta feel lucky enough if the kids eat in a given day and don’t kill each other.  I am grateful for the time spent with them, with a bit of time to read, a bit of time to indulge my respect for food well prepared, a teeny bit of time to write, and a slew of moments to ponder my spiritual growth thrown in as icing on the cake.

Will that a pinnacle in my life create?  Probably not.  But that is O.K. too.

Of course, one should never say never…

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Gifts have been wrapped and passed onto children from our giving tree at church.  Last minute ones have been purchased for a local orphanage, per requested by a giving friend.  But I have this underlying feeling of not giving enough.  Just thinking of all the people who have less this year, who can’t give their kids a simple gift, or even kids who have no idea what a Christmas present is because they have never gotten one.  I am reminded that if 13,000 children die a day in our world from hunger, 78,000 will die between now and Christmas day. There are soldiers returning home from Iraq and Afghanistan who are having trouble adjusting to life stateside.  There are people who are losing their homes as we sit comfortably around our tree, filled with presents, heat, and hot cocoa.

For some reason this year I am being shaken by the world we live in.  And I know I cannot do that much on my own to change it.  Maybe I am being shaken because last week as we shopped for the kids at the orphanage my kids were more interested in finding toys they wanted and less about understanding the needs, and the gravity, of what others are going through.  Am I failing in educating them on more than just reading, writing, and arithmetic?

Or is it because we are listening to only Christmas songs on the radio and every time I hear Stevie Wonder begin to belt out “One day at Christmas men won’t be boys, playing with bombs like kids play with toys” I wonder if that will ever be true.  If we will ever really understand “what life is really worth.”  Am I feeling grateful, yet frightened, because so many of my friends, acquaintances, and family have battled the cursed cancer this year, some with great success and some who will not have success and have already left us or will before the next Christmas rolls around?

I pride myself on making this a wonderful time of year for my children, a time they shouldn’t really have to worry, a time to believe in magic, and love, and dreams, and hope for the year that will follow.  For some reason, or all of the reasons above, Mama is just sorta shell shocked this time around.

This week I will be mindful of what a fantastic life I have.  I will be mindful that I cannot buy enough gifts for others to make my heart not break over what it sometimes sees.  I will be mindful that I have a duty to educate my children to see the world outside of their own experiences as part of them and not a separate phenomenon.  I am mindful that I usually get weepy around this time of year, and this time it just has a heavier tone to it.

And I will remember to be joyful and spread holiday cheer all through the year.  Because if I want anything to ever change anywhere for anyone, spreading joy is a simple, mindful, and tangible thing to do. And a lot of times it is really hard to do when we have our own heartache and stresses.

I am reminded of my ministers message last week at service, and for this time of year I can’t think of anything more appropriate to leave you with.  I am paraphrasing, “Make it so when people look at you, when they are in your presence they are seeing the Christ within, the Buddha nature, the God consciousness, whatever you want to call it, in what you do, what you say, and how you are.”

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Finished my niece’s shawl yesterday.  I had finished the body like a month ago, but had yet to get around to the fringe.  Now if I can only get to the post office.  My least favorite errand on the planet.

I started a scarf for a little boy on Monday and finished it last night.  I also started one for his little brother last night too.  Hopefully I can finish it today cause there is a little boy in my house who is hoping for a knitted BLANKET for Christmas.  Gulp.  I originally wanted the brown and blue for the little brother, but it was too wide once I tried it on my little tykes.  It was perfect for my 7 year old, not so much my 5 year old.  Knit and learn.  Knit and learn.

I am reading at the moment Surrendering To Marriage, author of Surrendering To Motherhood, and Surrendering To Yourself which I will read both next, and have started Born To Run.  Born To Run because I need a lot of inspiration at the moment, and Surrendering To Marriage, because well you can never have too much inspiration to keep your ‘civilization’, as she calls the family unit, going strong.  My husband and I have been both VERY busy the last couple of months, I am personally choosing to slow down cause I was about to implode, but he doesn’t have that choice.  I am almost done, but this was a nice read to remember that the long haul isn’t perfect for any marriage, but it is worth it in so many ways.

Obviously not if there is violence or abuse in a relationship, there is no suggestion in this book to stay in such.  But how to keep the marriage strong in a time of such distractions that we have today?  Young children?  Building careers? Frustrations? Extended family?  Friends? Activities? There is so much pressure on families today to do it all, but at what cost?  How much pressure are we putting on our most precious of relationships?

“Loving someone at the moment they are asking for it because they need it even though you don’t want to give it is the ultimate surrender in marriage.” Ahh, how hard is that when kids have been clamoring for you all day, you feel busy and overwhelmed, and you just want to rest and replenish yourself?  And what about him?  Who spent all day at a stressful job and an hour and a half in a commute?  Doesn’t he want to replenish too and not have to give to me?

Surrender.

“It doesn’t get much better than this.  The older I get the more sure I become that the peaks and passing fancies are not what ultimately make for happiness.  I can’t say that the grind of the ordinary makes me happy, either, day in and day out.  But living our a conventional marriage with children and a husband has forced me to know that happiness is only ours in fragments, in delicious bites that we need to thoroughly savor, because, hey, the next day could be a whole different story.  Can any human ever really be happy?  The answer is yes.  The answer is no.  The answer is sometimes.”

Is it only sometimes?  I don’t know.  So many spiritual teachers would tell us no, that it is up to us, but it can be so much more of the time than it is for many of us on a daily basis, and some would argue most of the time.  I feel like it is sometimes now, but I am hardly enlightened and I suffer great mood swings while I am PMSing.  For now it is sometimes, and I will take it.  And relish it, because there is really no place else or no other thing I would rather be doing than what I am doing right at this moment of my life.

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I have just been ‘seeing how I feel’ about not being in this arena for awhile. I lived life, educated my kids, went away for Thanksgiving, tried the Crazy, Sexy, Diet cleanse AGAIN, only to crash and burn miserably on my face while PMSing.

Guess what?

I miss it. My Mom misses it, which is great too. But as a friend of mine said last week after hearing the news that evidently I am not as healthy as I arrogantly believed I was, that what she thought I needed was “nourishment”. “You need to learn how to nourish yourself,” she said. And I haven’t been able to shake her words since.

What does that look like? Nourishment?

It looks like lots of things to lots of people I am sure. And when is the last time any of has actually taken the time to figure out what that means for us? Deeply? This morning in a twisted, anxiety, depressed state I pulled into the Starbuck’s parking lot after church, grabbed a hot cocoa and a scone, and pulled out a journal I had just bought from a friend. “Motherhood: The shortest and steepest path to enlightenment,” it says on the cover, and started writing.

And I felt better.

Writing is what I do. It is what I like to do. It is how I discover who I am and who I want to be. It is how I vent and how I hope. It is why my husband doesn’t have to have long winded ‘discussions’. It is what clears my mind when it is feeling chaotic and frenetic. It empties me of my questions long enough to be present with my children.  It nourishes me…

So, here I am. Writing again.  And it feels right.  It feels sacred.  It feels like I have nothing to prove, but just someone to be.  From The War of Art by Steven Pressfield, “Our job in this lifetime is not to shape ourselves into some ideal we imagine we ought to be, but to find out who we already are and become it.”

Who am I?  I am finding that out, but equally as important as my own work, is yours.  Who are YOU already?  Will YOU become it?

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I finished Left Neglected, to be honest I really didn’t like it that much.  It was a nice reprieve from the mostly non-fiction I read I suppose, but it left a lot to be desired.  The characters seemed massively underdeveloped or just missing any true emotional depth.  Way too much brand name dropping for me, and way too much focus on material wealth and striving for success.  Even when the main character decides not to pursue life the same way, it is lacking believability.

I am still working on the parenting book with the long name, and started this essay book written by women about things men have said to them.  Some of them are incredibly poignant, I resonate especially with the ones that deal with the treatment of women on an international stage, but many are interesting to read, just to see how other women really do think outside my circle as a stay at home, homeschooling Mom.  I am not sure I would recommend it yet.  It would really depend on your personal tastes, there is a fair amount of cussing along the way in many stories.

Some have asked where I got the shawl pattern, why You Tube of course! Here it is:

If you are new to knitting like myself, this shawl turns out great and really gives you ample opportunity to perfect your stitches! I will be ready to move on after this, except my son wants a blanket for Christmas, and not sure what to do about that just yet…I haven’t even picked out the yarn!

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I started the project about the time we started the Story Of The World, sometime in September.  But, as any homeschooling Mama will attest, things don’t always go as planned and time is a force to be reckoned with.  I finally sat down and finished up this little project on Sunday.  I had been cleaning out our master bedroom and this unfinished ditty was atop my bookshelf.  It was time to get er’ done.

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I don’t have a laminating machine, so it was the old fashion laminate roll that my husband had laying around to finagle.  I would cut a piece to cover my cutting board, take the paper off, then lay it flat sticky side up.  I then laid out as many squares as would fit leaving room at the top to hang them on the string.  I then cut another piece, took that paper off, and laid the sticky side down on top of the cards.

Then it was on to cutting them out by hand.  This became a less tedious process as time went on.  I was able to eyeball them to mostly the same size.

This is actually quite a heft stack of timeline cards!  I am hoping that seeing everything out in timeline fashion, beginning to present, will make it easier for the kids to place things in history.  I think it is hard to recall such when much of history is taught to coincide with holidays at this age, instead of being sequential.

I am going to hang them on the school room wall with string and these darling mini clothes pins.  I can’t wait to show the kids their new little visual aids.  Of course, often I get more excited about the stuff I make than they do, but hopefully these will come in handy as our studies progress through history.

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Since our bookstore closed of course.

During my outing, I came across the Jon J. Muth section and read all of Zen Shorts as I sat there.  I have always loved this book, we picked ours up at a sale somewhere, I can’t even remember now where, but I decided that instant this would be the book I would get and a panda I would be.

Stillwater.  He is such a sweet panda. And smart.  Or should I say wise?

There are many fantastic kids books out there we have discovered along the way during reading time and long stints at the library, I could have picked any of them.  But what I thought about sitting on the floor of the bookstore, reading all of the ‘zen shorts’ in the book was how often we overlook the importance of teaching children mindfulness.

I can promise I was not taught mindfulness as a child.

I know that some schools are now taking it on, teaching empathy, compassion, and even meditation, but so much of what kids learn they learn from us.  Not all of what they learn, but a lot.  We lead by example, in our stellar moments and the moments that make us want to crawl under the carpet and stay there for a very, very, very long time.

Ahhhh, but the lessons of Zen Shorts, that the magnificent moon is enough, that ‘maybe’ is more realistic than ‘I got this thing all figured out’, and that carrying our burdens around in our minds is a waste of time and energy and it takes us out of the present moment.  These are lessons I want my kids to learn.

At least so they don’t have to struggle to learn them like I do, after my brain is already hardwired to do the complete opposite of each of these meditations.  Something is missing when we spend so much time focusing our children’s attention on what they need to do to ‘succeed’ and not as much time on how to actually live a life less focused on the future and the material but more focused on the simple majesty of now.

Let us be mindful about the importance of teaching our children to be mindful.  It is a valuable lesson that will hopefully keep them grounded in a world that is full of billions of dollars worth of distractions.

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