Unconditional Daughtering

There is this parenting philosophy that I subscribe to called Unconditional Parenting. It's based on this book by Alfie Kohn where the idea is to NOT use punishment OR positive reinforcement with our children, but to love them unconditionally. What? A parenting style WITHOUT positive reinforcement or praise? Well, the thought is that positive reinforcement teaches children that they are loved, and lovable, only when they do whatever we decide is a “good job.”

Here, read this article real quick, and then come back here to rejoin my discussion.

Done? That was a good article, right?

So, anyway, that is what I've always tried to practice with my children.

But, it occurred to me recently, after reading my sister's comment to my Douche Bag post, that I am not practicing unconditional love with my mother.

It got me to thinking about Jesus and how He loves each and every one of us unconditionally. Would He be there for someone when they are having an abortion? You bet to high heaven He would be. He would be there holding your hand, giving of Himself, like He has done for all of us time and time again. Jesus would be there for us in every way, at any time that we need Him.

So, that is what I should do for my mother. I should be like Jesus and I be there for her unconditionally. I should be there for her when she has her (figurative) abortion / gallbladder surgery. It's the least I can do. At least I don't have to go die on a cross or anything.

I have learned a couple of lessons in boundaries in having this blog so far, which normal people probably would have realized from the beginning:

1) It's mean to call someone a douche bag.
2) Certain people's husbands might not want them writing about what type of lubrication they're using when they're having sex. I'm just saying.

Lent - Day 10

One of the things my husband and I would do together, since the beginning of time, was to watch a bunch of the Oscar nominated movies together in the weeks preceding the award show. (Don't ask me how I am doing this now... I am not going to tell you.)

The other day, I watched Avatar without him.

Vern is not interested in watching the Oscar movies this year because he is busy doing other things. Which is okay. But I miss sharing them with him.

I like sharing a good movie with Vernon. It makes the movie itself that much more enjoyable to be watching it with someone who can appreciate it in the same way. Vernon is my kindred movie spirit. We've always liked and admired the same kind of movies. We appreciate independent, documentary, good-quality, and creative films... films like In the Bedroom, Magnolia, Little Children, Boys Don't Cry, Life is Beautiful, Crash, Sling Blade, Hoop Dreams, Memento, American Beauty, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and the like.

Watching a good movie with Vernon is better than having sex. (Well, maybe not SEX, but definitely better than foreplay.)

But now, Vernon will never know how freaking amazing Avatar is, which makes me just a little bit sad. 

Which, like I said, is okay. Vernon is busy with other things because he has a purpose. He is not a paralyzed lion, and I love him for that. Vernon has a passion and he is pursuing it, and, I will tell you right here and now that it is changing him for the better. It really is.

I used to be the type of person who wanted to spend every waking moment with the love of my life. I wanted to model our relationship after Paul and Linda McCartney. I read something about them once where they said that they had only spent one night apart in their almost 30 years of marriage. At the time, I liked that idea. I REALLY liked that idea. There was something very romantic about the idea of Paul and Linda McCartney (or Vernon and Allison) never being apart. I didn't want to be apart from Vernon for a night... ever.

But lately, I'm starting to think that there is value in living our own lives. And what I mean by this is in living our own lives separately, but together (if that makes any sense). I think what I'm trying to say can best be described in the poem On Marriage from The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. The last lines of the poem say:

And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.

Vernon is the oak and I am the cypress. We can grow, but not in each others shadows because then neither of us get any light.

I like that poem.

So, even though Vern isn't watching the Oscar movies with me (of which I have three more that I need to get watched by next weekend: The Hurt Locker, Crazy Heart, and Up In the Air), I am okay with that. Because that is what allows us to grow. And that is a good thing.

So, today, I am filled with love for Vernon. For all of what I've listed above and for this:

 

Because there is nothing sexier than a man wearing a sling. I repeat: There is nothing sexier than a man wearing a sling. NOTHING.

Lent - Day 9

Speaking of maxi pads, I am also thankful that I do not have my period back yet. I recently conducted a survey on facebook (which is where I perform all of my scientific surveys) and I asked, "If you breastfed, how long did it take you to get your period back?"

I got 46 responses, accounting for 64 breastfed babies. Throwing out the high and the low and averaging all the rest, it has been determined that the average length of time for a woman to experience lactational amenorrhea (which means the absence of your period while you are nursing) is... 11.3 months.

Mine were 14 months and 22 months, respectively. It's nice. I enjoy the lactational amenorrhea.

(Other facebook polls that I have conducted include: "If you breastfed, did you lose weight quickly and easily?" 50% said yes, 50% said no. And, "How long does it take you to have sex again after childbirth?" Average: 3.25 months. And, "When you were pregnant, did you buy new underwear?" Some yes, some no.)

Today, I appreciate the supplements that we take in the morning: fermented cod liver oil, high-vitamin butter oil, 4 drops of liquid kelp (for iodine), and Vitamin D (1000 IUs for the kiddos, 5000 IUs for those of us with pubic hair). I put them all together on one spoon and set them out for the four of us. I like how they look when they're all lined up next to each other (that's Ezra's hand reaching for his):

Lent - Day 8

I have been trying to get some friends of mine to introduce me to this guy they know who is a filmmaker. This guy has a regular job, but every once in awhile he will put together a film and my friends will sometimes end up helping out with it.

Ooh, ooh, I would like to do that. I want to help out too, I tell them, even though I'm not quite sure how I would do it right now with a baby in tow anyway. But, I want to learn how to make movies, I say. Then my friend, for which this one comment will endear her to me forever, says: "But you already are."

But you already are.

She is referring to the fact that I am already making these silly little movies that I put out on facebook.

She is referring to movies like this:



Not quite the same caliber as other filmmakers out there, but her comment makes me feel good nonetheless.

But you already are. 

Anyway... So, today, I appreciate how creative Ezra is when he plays. He always wants to play "barn". Today, he was a construction worker creating a building for his little cow named Baby Brownie. I love how he creates elaborate scenarios for his animals and how he uses this voice that is one octave lower than his own when he talks for them.

Here is Baby Brownie:

Lent - Day 7

I am thankful for little babies who pull themselves up to standing:

My Mom is a Douche Bag

My mom is such a douche bag. She is getting her gallbladder taken out.

She hasn't even done all that she can do to prevent this from happening. All she has to do is do this liver flush, and that should take care of the problem. I've done that liver flush 3-4 times already, just for kicks and giggles (and because everyone needs a good liver flush now and again), and it is not that big of a deal. And it is such a beneficial alternative TO GETTING YOUR GALLBLADDER TAKEN OUT! (You know, because you need your gallbladder to do such things as digest fats and stuff.)

I don't get it. Such an easy thing to do. Something that everybody should be doing anyway every once in awhile. Why doesn't she do it in lieu of getting surgery? I don't freaking get it.

Mother wants one of us children (either me or my sister) to drive her to or from the hospital on Thursday, March 18. My sister can't do it, which leaves me. I CAN do it, and I want to be there to support my mother when she needs me to be there for her... but this is just something that I fundamentally disagree with. It'd be like asking for my support when you're going in to get an elective cesarean. Or an abortion.

I would be more apt to want to be there for her if SHE HAD DONE EVERYTHING SHE POSSIBLY COULD TO AVOID THIS IN THE FIRST PLACE, which she hasn't. Bah.

Lent - Day 6

I went to the Mall of America again today. While I was breathing in the taste of the new movies on the 4th floor, I noticed Shia LaBeouf in a poster for the new Wall Street. He was sitting there, acting like he was all grown up. Shia LaBeouf acting like he's grown up is akin to me wear high heels and a fancy dress. Who are we trying to fool, Shia?

Today, I am thankful for this aqua shirt because I like how it brings out the blue in my eyes.

I'm holding my hand up against my face like that because I'm a big dork. (I don't need to find a more positive, Lenten version of saying the word dork because I love dorks, and I am proud to be one. I also love nerds, tools, and, occasionally, douche-bags.) I can't explain why I am holding my foot. There really is no explanation for that.

Note: You can also see what the haircut-that-nobody-ever-notices-that-I-got-my-hair-cut looks like. See... can't tell any difference, can you? It's the LAYERS, people! The LAYERS!

I am also thankful for this homemade deodorant that I've been using. Given my inability to take a shower on a regular basis, this stuff has actually been pretty amazing. It's equal parts coconut oil (like I really needed another use for coconut oil, right?), and shea butter, along with a little bit of baking soda and lavender essential oil thrown in. I love it.

Lent - Day 5

I wrote down some ramblings on this sheet of paper the other week and I found it lying around today:

 
 I wrote this when I was feeling purposeless and wondering what I should do with my life. (If you click on it, you will be able to read things better.)

The summary of purposeful ideas I wanted to pursue says:

SCREENPLAYS
FILMMAKING
MATERNITY CARE
BOOKS
ENERGY WORK - EMERSON
BLOG
FAMILY
CHIROPRACTIC

I was talking to Vernon about this the other week and I remember him saying, "I think your ideas are too widespread. The dog who chases two rabbits catches none." And then he got out this book he was reading and said something about how a lion tamer holds up a four-legged stool to help tame a lion because the lion cannot focus on all for legs at one time and he becomes paralyzed because of it. And I'm, like, "Gee, thanks for calling me a paralyzed lion, Vernon."

But it's true.

I am a paralyzed lion.

Look at me... I'm doing art shows! I'm a birth photographer! I'm training in Reiki! I'm developing a line of greeting cards! I wrote a book! I'm doing design work for a magazine! I'm teaching childbirth classes! I wrote a script for a television pilot! I'm writing a blog!

And this was all within the past 3 years, people.

I AM a freaking (wait... what's a positive way to say "freaking"?), paralyzed lion.

Here was one of the greeting cards from my greeting card line, Funny Family Cards, in case any of you all are curious...

 

And the inside read...

(Oh, and there's plenty more where these came from, people. PLENTY more.)

So... anyway... what I'm thankful for today is the fact that there is a lesson to be learned through all of this. I'm not entirely sure what that lesson is yet, but I am grateful for it nonetheless. I am finding my way and I am thankful for the journey, I guess. Yes, that's it. That sounds nice...

I'm thankful for the journey.

Lent - Day 4

I wanted to mention some things that I love/appreciate that I think are too boring and/or inappropriate to take a picture of: my garage door opener, the fact that it didn't hurt when I peed after having sex last night, and Boston Rob from Survivor: Heroes vs Villains. I haven't watched Survivor for years, but I started watching it again because of Boston Rob. I don't have a celebrity crush on him or anything (like I do with John Krasinski, Jared Padalecki, and the kid who plays Matt Saracen on Friday Night Lights). No, my love for Boston Rob comes more from a respect for him as a game player. Not only on Survivor, but he really should have won that edition of The Amazing Race that he was on with Amber.

Anywho... there is another thing that I am thankful for today that I did not get a picture of. Here's the back story:

Ezra was on the kitchen counter. Sometimes it's okay with me when he is on counter because he is short and this is what he needs to do to reach things. In this case, he wanted to eat some ground up wheat that was in the mixing bowl (don't ask me why). But sometimes I don't like to have him on the counter because it gets too crowded when I'm trying to do things there.

So, today, he's on the counter and I'm trying to get a bowl out of the cupboard next to his head. I ask him to move his head because I can't get the cupboard door open. He's able to move it a little bit, and I can just barely open the door and get a bowl out of it.

But then I drop the bowl and it breaks.

I say to Ezra, "See... this is why I don't like it when you're on the counter."

His lip starts to quiver. His eyes get heavy. He chokes on the words as he says, "I'm sorry that I broke your bowl." And then he goes into his room to be alone.

I realize that I'm being a total jerk and I go to his room to apologize to him. "I'm sorry that I got upset with you. It wasn't your fault that the bowl broke. I'm the one who was reaching for it, and I shouldn't have made you feel bad about that. It was an accident. I should never make you feel bad when something like that happens and I'm sorry. Do you forgive me?"

He doesn't say anything and he wants me out of his room. So, I let him have his space.

After awhile, he comes up to where I am sitting and starts doing the Pee Wee Herman dance for me. See, I taught him this dance a couple of weeks ago (because this is what my kids learn in homeschool) and it makes me laugh like crazy every time I see him do it. He knows this. So, when he came to me and did this dance for me, it was his way of letting me know that he forgave me and that things were right with us again. It was a really nice moment. (I tried to get him to re-enact the dance for the sake of a photo, but he wouldn't agree to it.)

Okay... now, on to thankfulness with pictures. Almost every morning, Vernon makes me a smoothie:

It is nutritious and wonderful and delicious. This morning, he made it with raw eggs, blackberries, stevia, broccoli, coconut oil, ground flaxseed, ice cubes, and banana. It's different everyday. Other days he might include a combination of any of the following ingredients, depending on what we have on hand: spinach, protein powder, strawberries, peaches, blueberries, pineapple, carrots, and raw milk kefir. I'm not sure what the quantities for each ingredient are because the smoothie is always just there waiting for me every morning.

 

And, of course, he makes one for each of the kids as well:

Lent - Day 3

I kind of have this thing about not dressing my baby in sweaters. I finally realized why this was. At first, I thought it might have been because I don't like to wear sweaters myself (I happen to find them too hot and bulky for my taste). But, no, that wasn't it. The reason I don't like my baby to wear sweaters is because I don't change my baby into pajamas at night and she just sleeps in the clothes that she's been wearing throughout the day. Sure, she could sleep in a sweater at night, but that just doesn't seem comfortable. So... I just don't dress her in sweaters. (This is all a part of me being an idle parent.)

I have my baby wear the same clothes morning, noon, and night until she does one of three things to them:

1. poops in them, 
2. spits up on them, or 
3. (which is the most common occurrence) excessively drools on them.

So, a typical outfit usually lasts around 3 days before it gets taken off and thrown in the wash.

But today, I got this lovely sweater from a friend and it is so gorgeous that I cannot have her wear it.

This photo is so gorgeous, it really belongs on the cover of Mothering Magazine. So, I took a couple of "cover format" pictures of Peace and submitted them. I just wish Mothering Magazine would accept my photos and put one of my freaking kids on the cover for once! Anyway, here is a mock-up of what Peace would look like if she were on the cover:

 

Anyway... so, today, I also cut my hair. I am thankful for the fact that I can cut my own hair and I don't have to pay to get a haircut. I am thankful that my hair is forgiving and pretty much lets me do whatever I want with it.

The thing is, my hair is so forgiving, nobody can ever tell when I get a haircut. It always looks more or less the same, even though, as you can see, there is a somewhat massive amount of hair that got cut off. Vernon can never tell. And, yes, those are lame blue utility scissors that I used to cut my hair.

Lent - Day 2

Today, I am thankful for the smell of incense. It is rich and deep and it reminds me of all things good.

I'm also thankful for this little face, because it makes me smile when I look at it:

Sour Cream Lasagna

I have invented this scrumptious recipe for lasagna that involves putting sour cream into it. Why did I put sour cream into my lasagna, you may ask? Well, I had sour cream in my fridge because I needed it when I made Beef Stroganoff. I didn't know what else to use the sour cream with, and I didn't want it to go bad, so I thought... I'll put it into the lasagna. A more delicious idea has never been thought of. And look... I even took my very own picture of it. (This time, I decided to but a decorative table runner underneath it for the photo so you couldn't tell that I put it on the carpet, like last time.) I wonder if I am the first person in the world who has ever thought to put sour cream into their lasagna. Maybe I should patent this idea. It's so creamy and really, really wonderful. Anyway, here is the recipe:

Brown 1 lb grass-fed organic beef

Add 1 onion, chopped, and

2 cloves of garlic, then add

14 oz tomato sauce

8 oz tomato paste

14 oz water

2 tsp oregano

1 tsp salt

1/2 tsp black pepper

Let this all simmer for an hour or more. The secret to a good sauce is to let it simmer.

In the meantime, grate 1/2 lb of raw milk cheddar cheese.

And, in a bowl, mix 2 eggs with 1/2 cup of sour cream.

Also, get some baby spinach leaves out and ready for action.

Now, put a little bit of the sauce into your lasagna pan, just to coat the bottom of it. Then, add 3 uncooked rice lasagna noodles. Never boil your lasagna noodles ahead of time. It's a waste of your time. It turns out just as good if you just put them in there uncooked.

Then, start your layers. It will be noodles, 1/3 of the sauce, a handful of baby spinach leaves, 1/2 of the egg/sour cream mixture, and 1/2 of the cheese. Do this twice, then top with a final layer of noodles and the last 1/3 of the sauce.

Cover pan with tin foil and bake in a 350 degree oven for 45 minutes. Remove tin foil and cook for 15 minutes more.

I will eat 3 pieces of this lasagna. Vern will eat 3. And the kids will eat 2 or 3, depending on how hungry they are. Most kids would probably only eat 1 or 2 pieces though because it is filling. My kids can just eat a lot.

Lent - Day 1

For the 40 days of Lent, I want to do something positive. So, everyday, I am going to take a picture of something that I love, appreciate, or am grateful for.

I want to try to be careful with the words that I am using in this blog from here on out. I want to be positive with them. For instance, instead of relating a story about how when we were in church this Sunday, Peace had fallen asleep on the ride there so we just brought her inside sleeping in her carseat. We were there for all of 2 minutes when the priest made an announcement that parishioner Tom is back from Iraq. Tom stands up and everybody in the church starts clapping for him. The clapping wakes up baby Peace, and I am upset because now she will be awake for the rest of church, but she will be kind of fussy because she's tired. So, instead of being happy for this nice soldier who has returned safely from Iraq, all I can think about is how annoyed I am at everybody in the church who clapped for him. And I am annoyed at Tom himself for making them clap. How selfish is that? What the hell is wrong with me? That nice Iraqi soldier, getting the sympathy of everyone in church except for myself.

So... instead of telling a story like that, instead of focusing on all my negative thoughts and about what a selfish person I am, instead of doing that, I could write something like... Berries are nice.

See, that's better, right?

So, anyway, today I am thankful for these ashes on my forehead and my Canon Digital Rebel which are the impetus for this whole experiment.

Parenting Safe

I have gotten a couple of comments about safety for children after my Parenting Paradox post. Yes, of course, safety is important. I don't know if there was an implied impression that I let my children go around making their own shivs and bludgeoning each other with war hammers all the time (that kind of behavior is reserved for Grandma's house). I don't think my conscientious parenting should be confused with carelessness.

But, to me, there is as much importance attached to a child's psychological development as to their physical safety. I think it is easier to heal from a cut or a scrape than from a belief that can stick with you for a lifetime.

That being said, there are ways to keep your child psychologically happy and safe at the same. (Because, believe it or not, I do happen to have things that make me stop my children from what they are doing, which I'll get to later. I just happen to have a different threshold than most parents where I happen to be okay with, say, letting my daughter climb a tree that is higher than a house.)

So, let's take the example of a kid climbing up a tree that is really high and you're uncomfortable with it. There's nothing wrong with that. But instead of saying, "No, don't climb that tree. It's too high. You'll get hurt." You could say, "I'm not comfortable with you climbing that tree right now. Please stay on the ground." That way, you are not pressing your belief on the child that they CAN'T do it (because they very well could if you let them). You're just telling the truth about how YOU'RE feeling.

Example: Sometimes my six-year-old daughter, Ocean, will hold baby Peace up above her head. I don't like her to do that. But, instead of saying, "You shouldn't hold her like that. She might fall." I will say, "I'm uncomfortable with you holding Peace so high. Could you hold her down lower please?" This way, Ocean won't feel that she is incapable of doing something. After all, she feels like she can hold her like that (which she can... she hasn't dropped her once yet), and I don't want to take that feeling away from her. But I do want her to understand that I don't feel comfortable with her doing it, and, therefore, she should not do it.

(The books How to Talk So Your Kids Will Listen and Listen So Your Kids Will Talk as well as Raising Our Children, Raising Ourselves talk a lot about this sort of thing.)

I had one friend who used to work at a daycare center, and they were not allowed to use the word NO with the children there. The daycare workers were encouraged to use positive statements or redirection instead. For example, instead of saying, "Don't hit," they would say, "Touch gently."

And another idea, especially with the younger ones, would be to not make whatever you're worried about available to them. If you're worried about them sticking things into electrical outlets, get those outlet cover thingies. If you're worried about them having knives, keep the knives out of reach.

Most of our beliefs are formed in childhood. Most imprinting is done within the first three years of life. So, there is a lot of power in the words that we use with our kids. My mom has a habit of calling my son "stubborn" or "a handful". I always tell her not to label him, because I don't want to view him as that, and I don't want him to think of himself like that either. In school, kids are often divided into different reading groups based on their ability. I can still remember the kids who were in the dumb group from my days in elementary school... and if I'm remembering that, chances are that they remember themselves as that as well.

Alright. Enough with all this parenting crap. Tomorrow: Sour Cream Lasagna!

I Like the Mall of America

I've got a deep, dark secret that I haven't wanted to admit to anyone before (especially myself): I like going to the Mall of America.

From time to time, I'll take my kids to Toddler Tuesday at the Mall. This is rather absurd given that not a one of my three children is actually a toddler, so we probably look a little bit foolish casting ourselves amongst the 2-3 sect, but I don't care. I like it anyway.

I haven't wanted to admit this because it is seemingly against my temperament. It's not crunchy. It's too commercial. None of my friends are doing it. I don't care. I'm tired of labels. I'm trying to embrace every part of my being. And I LIKE going to the Mall of America.

I like the way my kids start skipping spontaneously when they're walking in front of me. I watch them from behind and I think, My kids are happy. I'm doing something right.

I like the way the Mall is not crowded on a Tuesday morning. I like places that are quiet when it seems like they're supposed to be busy. Like walking through Target on a weekday morning. Or the time we saw the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade in NYC... when we walked the side streets afterward everything was empty and quiet. It was like we were the only ones there in the whole wide world.

There is this one section of the mall, on the fourth floor, that I call my favorite place in the mall. It is a quiet hallway, right past Hooters, that adjoins the movie theater to the rest of the floor. I like it there because we're away from people and it makes me think that we're all alone. Just me and my kids. There are movie posters on the wall, and I breathe in the scent of new movies. Alice in Wonderland, I'll have to see that. Then my kids sit in the D-Box thing and watch/feel the preview for an upcoming movie. This time it was too scary because it had people shooting guns in From Paris With Love so the kids didn't want to watch more than 10 seconds.

I like how we go to Teavana on the first floor and sample all of their teas. Six of them. And then we take escalators up to the third floor and sample the tea at Tea Source (but today the samples weren't put out. Bah). And then we go to the Air Traffic store and spend 20 minutes there playing with the toys.

I like building cars out of Legos with my kids in the Lego area at the Mall. I made a real long one today and called it The Long One.

I like how baby Peace is excited about seeing everything. I like how she's interested in the world. I like wearing her in the Moby wrap and having the normals look at me like I'm doing something special.

Yep, I'll admit it. I like the Mall of America.

Will I Be a Walking Contradiction?

Somebody by the name of Anonymous (who I am assuming is my sister, Andrea) commented on my Parenting Paradox post last week.  

Anonymous (Andrea) wrote:

I have tried my best to keep my personal opinions to myself, but I have a question/scenerio (sic) for you to ponder: what happens IF when your children become adults and you have provided them with all of the tools to think for themselves and to make their own choices that they "choose" to live their lives with different views than your own (such as public schools, processed foods, rules, ect.). Are you going to be okay with that? I hope so, otherwise your parenting would be a walking contridiction (sic).

First of all, these questions can apply to anyone, and not necessarily only to myself and my style of parenting. I guess the difference is that I would be a "walking contradiction" because of my expressed views of encouraging free thinking, free will, etc. So, in answer to the question, "Are you going to be okay with that?"... I don't know. Does anybody know if they're going to be "okay" with choices that their kids make that are out of alignment with their own views? Am I going to be okay if my kids turn into drug addicts? (After all, those are views that are different from my own.) Would you be okay if your kids turned into drug addicts?

So, that brings me to a point that I will get into now... I'm just trying to do the best that I can. I am doing stuff that feels right to me. I'm not an expert, nor to I pretend to be one. All I am is a person with a strong opinion about a lot of things. By avoiding processed foods, encouraging children to think for themselves, not letting them watch tv, and keeping stuff like crack, crystal meth, doobies, and LSD out of the house... I just happen to think that I am doing the best that I can for my family. These views are based on a lot of reading, a lot of observation, and a lot of thinking on my part.

Will I be upset if they eat junk food or watch TV when their grown-up? I doubt it. But it is my job as their parent to do what is in the best interest for them NOW. It is my job to get them off to the best start possible. Why would I want any less than that for them? (And, believe it or not, I have yet to see a study that touts the benefits of junk food or television watching for children, so if you find one, please show me.)

And, hopefully, with this type of parenting, my children WILL grow into the best versions of themselves. That's my main objective. But if they don't, they don't. They are on their own journey through life, just like the rest of us. I want to encourage them to find their paths, happily and joyfully, wherever that may be.

It is my path to be this source of encouragement for them.

Happy Valentine's Day!

 

Photo Friday - Peace at Table

 

 Most of my photos seem to be of Peace. I should really concentrate on getting more pictures of the other ones, but they're bigger and they move around more. Plus, Peace is changing a lot faster than the other two. The older ones tend to look the same for up to 6 months at a time. But Peace is little and she is changing every day.

Coconut Oil is the Best Natural Lubricant Ever!

In my attempt to have no chemicals enter my body whatsoever (except for when they do), we have started using coconut oil as a lubricant when we have sex. Is this too much information? You know what? I don't care. Coconut oil is awesome. If any of you out there are breastfeeding, you all know how important it is to have a a good lubricant. Am I right people?

It still hurts when I pee after we have sex, and I'm not sure what that can be attributed to. But I'm almost certain that it can be remedied by: 1) doing more kegels, or 2) not having sex and giving more hand jobs (Hi, Mom!).

Anyway, the only downfall to this whole coconut oil / lube thing is that Vernon gets a boner every time we use coconut oil for cooking. (Hi, Vernon! I'm kidding... right?)

The Parenting Paradox

After my playdate from hell, I've been thinking a lot about different parenting styles. It's seems almost a paradox, how people parent. Here's what I've noticed:

Most people in America (I'll just call them the mainstreamers) tend to ignore their children when they are babies and then overparent them when they are children. Mainstreamers tend to give birth medicated, not hold their babies very much, sleep apart from them, put them in strollers, formula feed, carry them in carseats, set them down for naps, and maybe even let them cry it out. They're ignoring their little baby's needs when they need it most. But then, when baby grows up a little, this is when the mainstreamers start to overparent. They start to hover. They turn into helicopter parents (click here for a good article on the growing backlash against helicopter parenting). They start to do everything for their child because they don't trust that their child can do it for themselves.

Now, there is another subset of American parents that does things a little differently. I'll call them instinctual parents. Instinctual parents give birth naturally, breastfeed, co-sleep, wear their babies, and comfort their babies when they cry. Just things that come naturally, you know? Then, when their babies grow a little older, instinctual parents tend to back off a bit. They let their children explore the world. They let their children work out their differences on their own. They let their children play and figure out things on their own.

Both of these parenting styles are paradoxical, the latter just feels a more comfortable for me and not at all ironic in its paradox.

I don't ever want to tell my children that they can't do something. I don't want other people to tell them that they can't do something. You can't use a knife. You're too little. You shouldn't climb up that. It's too high. You shouldn't run with scissors. You might hurt yourself. I want them to believe in themselves and in their abilities. They know what they can and cannot do better than I ever will. They know their abilities. They know their limits. I don't have to tell them. I don't want to tell them. I don't care if they use knives, run with scissors, or climb things that are too high. (Here is a picture of my daughter climbing a very tall tree when she was four. She knew she could do it because nobody never told her that she couldn't.)

Instinctual parenting is like putting money in the bank. Sure, it might seem like more work in the beginning, but babies who are parented this way become much more independent and secure as children (thus, the natural inclination to let them do things on their own). They know that you WILL be there to meet their needs when and if they need you. They have faith in you. I remember my mother-in-law telling us how her kids' kindergarten teacher would say, "You must have held your children a lot when they were babies because they are less needy than the other kids now." The teacher could tell the difference, apparently.

There is a lot of value to instinctual parenting. Let's listen to those instincts a little bit more instead of just doing what everybody else seems to be doing.

Idle Parenting

I recently read this post called Idle Parenting on the Peaceful Parenting blog. Reading the first part of it, I really connected to it, got really excited about it, and even posted a link to it on Facebook. The article started out being about how children learn by playing, being outside, and then, what got me really excited was when the author used this quote from a DH Lawrence essay, Education of the People: "How to begin to educate a child. First rule: leave him alone. Second rule: leave him alone. Third rule: leave him alone. That is the whole beginning."

Totally my cup of tea, right?

But then, I kept reading and instead of talking more about idle parenting he started talking about lazy parenting. And, quite frankly, his idea of lazy parenting sounded just plain lazy... and maybe even kind of wrong. I was embarrassed for having posted a link to it on my Facebook page, proclaiming how I... "Loved this article. Please read it."

See, I think there is a difference between idle parenting and lazy parenting. When a car engine is idle, it's waiting. It's purposeful. It's has intent. Idle parenting has a purpose. Lazy parenting does not. The problem is, idle parenting and lazy parenting look a lot alike. The difference is in the intent.

I let my kids do a lot of things on their own. I am not a martyr for them. I let them learn. I let them grow. I let them play. But I am not lazy. Lazy parents do not read books like this or this or this or this or this.

I value goals. I value vision. I value hard work. I value living life with purpose and in finding one's purpose I think the best way for children to do that is to have the time to think and dream and play.

And if that makes me look a little lazy in the process, so be it.

The Playdate from Hell

Occasionally, I will step outside my little bubble of alternative culture and converse with the natives of mainstream America. It doesn't always go well.

The other day, my kids and I went to a one-on-one playdate with a mainstreamer, and it was kind of awkward. I mean, she is nice and everything, but our parenting styles are just so different that it makes everything weird.

She was very high-strung with her child and with mine, constantly telling them what to do and how to do it. Meanwhile, I was laid back and would have appreciated it if she would just let the children be instead of: moving my baby because she's worried that she'll hit a corner, telling my kids to say please before giving them food, and reprimanding Ezra for forgetting to flush the toilet.

I guess she's of the mindset that kids should be told what to do so that they will then know how to do it. Whereas, I'm of the mindset that kids can learn what to do on their own by how we model it for them. For example, kids can learn how to say please on their own. And it's much more rewarding when it comes from them saying it naturally instead of being instructed to do so. Ezra actually said please on his own accord before she said anything to him, but she still told him to say it because she wasn't even listening to him. He's, like, "But I already said it."

And how are children going to learn if they're constantly being told what to do? If she keeps telling her almost 3-year-old son, "You're going to poke yourself with that fork," chances are that he will poke himself with that fork. Whereas, I let my baby play with forks and she has never once poked herself with one... nor does she ram her head into corners when she's crawling around (and if I'm worried about her being in any danger of doing so, I can take care if it BECAUSE I'M SITTING RIGHT THERE!). There is great value in letting kids figure out how to do things by and for themselves. And if she does poke herself with a big fork or rams her head into a corner, big deal. She learned something.

I think that parenting style is one of the things that most easily bonds me to other people. If you co-sleep, breastfeed, use gentle discipline, wear your baby, treat your children with respect, and maybe even unschool, then we're probably kindred spirits. Bonus points if you eat organic, know what kombucha is, watch Big Love, and know the names to all of Wes Anderson movies.

I have the best, most wonderful group of mama friends where I am at right now. I don't know why I even attempted to float around in another realm. It really made me appreciate the friends that I do have sooooo much more. And it made me wonder if I will be able to find a group like this when we move this summer. Because, unfortunately, most parents are probably like Mrs-Shame-a-Child-When-He-Forgets-to-Flush and not like Aileen and Jen and Laura and Jen and Rebecca and Sally and Hayley and Karen and Kelly and Rebecca and Jenni and Sarah and Janine and Amy and Amy and Amy and Annik and Carrie and Chandra and Nic and Dana and Chris and Elizabeth and Gabby and Lisa and Maria and Olga and Terri and Lauren and Mariah and Barbara and Erica and Suzan and Jess and Erin and Maureen and Holly and Alyssa and Ruth and Alison and Kristin and everybody else here who I know and love so dearly.

Soapbox Sunday - Vitamin D

EVERYBODY should be supplementing Vitamin D. I had a friend who was taking 4,000 IUs a day and she got her Vit D levels tested and she was STILL low. At 4,000 IUs a day!

So, if she is low, chances are that you are probably low too.

I get about 1,000 IUs from cod liver oil, and then take a 5,000 IU supplement in capsule form. The general rule of thumb is 1,000 IUs for every 25 pounds of body weight. My kids get about 500 IUs from cod liver oil and then take a 1,000 IU capsule. And, of course, we need more Vitamin D in the winter since we're not getting it from the sun.

It's kind of interesting how my children will ask for the cod liver oil in the winter, but in the summer they tend to forget about it. I think their bodies know when they need it.

Here's a link as to why Vitamin D is so important.

Photo Friday - Vernon

 

I really love my husband Vernon and I think he's really nice. He likes Pearl Jam and Supernatural and pistachios and forest fires. Just kidding about that last part. I don't even know where that came from, or why I said it. Sometimes I say weird things like that and Vernon loves me anyway. He loves me for all that I am and for all that I will be. Vernon has the name of an 80-year-old man, but he is only 32. I am 32 also, but I will soon be 33. Sometimes, I'll hear Vernon singing a song to the kids and that will make me smile because I never really hear him singing otherwise. Even to Pearl Jam. But Vernon says that he sings in the car when I'm not around. "Why don't you sing when I'm with you?" I ask. "Because it wouldn't be the same," he says. That's true. There is just something about singing in the car when you're all alone that is kind of magical. I know that. We sang together in the car once. Bon Jovi. Livin' on a Prayer. Somewhere in New York state, I think it was. And there was that time in high school on our way home from a Hootie and the Blowfish concert with some other friends when we sang Surfwax America by Weezer. And we sang the alternate parts, like in a round. "You take your car to work. I'll take my board. And when you're out of fuel, I'm still afloat," he sang. While I sang, "All along the undertow is strenghtening its hold. I never thought it'd come to this. Now I can never go home." Good song. Yep. I really love my husband Vernon.

Chicken Stir Fry Soup

I made the most delicious soup, and I even took pictures of it! Yes, that is my (not that appetizing-looking) picture... I'm somewhat troubled by it because I set the bowl of soup on the carpet by the window (so that I could capture it in the natural light coming in from the window). Which will inevitably bring about the questions, "Why is the soup on the floor? Who puts soup on the floor anyway?" It doesn't make any sense. I'll have to try something different next time, but, hey, at least it's better than taking a picture off the internet because it looks similar (as I did in the case of my squash soup).

Here's the recipe:

1 onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic
1/2 cup tamari (a healthy version of soy sauce)
2 tsp ginger
3 cups chicken stock
2 cups water
2 stalks celery, chopped
2 carrots, chopped
1 little scoop of stevia
1-2 cups worth of cauliflower (and broccoli too, if you have it, which I didn't)
1 cup of cut-up chicken (Every couple of weeks I will boil a whole chicken in four quarts of water overnight and then I'll separate the meat from the bones in the morning and divide said chicken meat into four or five piles, which I wrap in tin foil and throw in the freezer. I will save the broth I get from this as well)

Cook onions and garlic together until tender and then add all the rest of the stuff. Bring to a boil, then cover and let simmer for 30-60 minutes (or however long you want to, really).

This is uber-yummy.

A Good Quote

"Why not?" is a slogan for an interesting life.

Vern Has a Friend Named Jake

My husband has this friend named Jake. He met Jake on his first day of chiropractic school.

Vern and Jake often talk about how serendipitous it was that they should meet. For instance, if Vern would have gone to chiropractic school right out of college instead of spending five years as an elementary teacher first, he would have never been in the same class as Jake and they never would have met. Or, if Jake would have done whatever he had done in his life previously just a little differently, he would have never met Vern.

But the stars aligned, Vern and Jake met each other, and now Jake is the godfather of our baby Peace. If Vern and Jake hadn't met each other at that fateful scavenger hunt on the first day of class almost three years ago, Vernon wouldn't be the wonderful man he is today. And Jake wouldn't be who he is today if he had never met Vernon. And Peace would have a different godfather.

Isn't it funny how fate works? It just WORKS sometimes, you know? Actually, it probably works ALL THE TIME, we just don't always realize how it's working.

Vern and I used to talk about how fateful it was that we happened to meet. (We don't really talk about this anymore because we're too busy talking about how he and Jake met.) If my friend Tory had never gone to Chris Gerskavich's graduation reception, I would have never met Vernon. If Tory had never called Vernon (and his brother Dennis) to come to our tent when we were camping at a county park next to his home in Florian, Minnesota, I would have never met Vernon. And if I would have never met Vernon, all of this never would have happened.

And we would have never had Ocean. And we would have never had Ezra.

And Jake would never have been the godfather of our new baby Peace.

Funny how life works, isn't it?

Cooking with Crap

Do you all ever get tired of cooking?

I do kind of enjoy cooking, for the most part. But, day in and day out, three meals a day (well, actually only two meals for me because my husband usually takes care of breakfast) with no end in sight because, 1) We all have to eat, and, 2) Eating is fun and it tastes good.

I wonder if it would be easier if I sold my soul and started making convenience foods.

Growing up, I consisted on a diet of: Macaroni and Cheese, Spaghettios, Velveeta Shells and Cheese, toastie dogs, Pizza Rolls, tomato soup, pop tarts, cereal, chips and cheese dip, and BBQ Fritos. My parents owned a restaurant I would get a bacon cheeseburger with french fries from there on occasion (it was always a bacon cheeseburger with french fries, even though I could have had anything I wanted).

When my mom did make a homemade meal, these are the only things I remember her making... ever: homemade milk and cheese (which was really just homemade macaroni and cheese but we referred to it as "milk and cheese" in order to differentiate it from the packaged Macaroni and Cheese that we usually ate), no-peekie stew, swiss steak, lasagna, spaghetti, potato sausage, hotdish.

That's it.

I'm not trying to hold it against my mom for how she fed me. It wasn't a big deal. It's not like she circumcised me or anything. She just didn't know any better. And I didn't know any better at that time because I continued to eat that way when I moved out of the house.

But by then, my diet had become even more limited because I was on my own and I was extremely cheap: Macaroni and Cheese (where I would save some of the noodles and add them the next day to the...), Tomato Soup, microwaved baked potatoes with ketchup, an entire box of generic scalloped potatoes with ketchup, Spaghettios, and these Spaghettio-type things called Dinosaurs (which they don't make anymore). That's it. I would literally spend less than $30 a month on groceries for myself. (But I would probably eat out at least once a week because this was back before I was married with children and Vernon and I would actually go out on dates on a regular basis.)

Then, after Vern and I were married, I graduated to the likes of Hamburger Helper, frozen pizza, Bisquick and other random forms of processed crap that ALDI had on sale.

I was also very anti-fat. I would not eat fat on anything. If I was at an event that had dinner rolls already buttered (is that a mid-western thing?), I would take a knife and scrape the butter off and look at the hostess with contempt. I would not add butter to my macaroni and cheese or scalloped potatoes. (I would not even add milk because I didn't want to buy it, so I used water.)

But now, as I've talked about before, I am very PRO fat. And I am very PRO food. I don't cook convenience foods. I don't cook foods with chemicals in them, red food dye #2, partially hydrogenated soybean oil, artificial flavorings, etc. I don't eat or feed my family refined sugar or white carbs (except for me at Mom's Night Outs, restaurants, and holidays).

Would my life be easier if I did?

Maybe, but it wouldn't be worth it.

So, I'll keep being a food snob and feed my kids their grass-fed beef, free-range chicken, organic veggies, kombucha, kefir, cod liver oil, raw honey, etc. These are the things that THEY'LL remember, which is kind of nice...