One philosophy that I hold quite firmly is "if it's not fun for everyone, it's not fun," applied not only to child/child interactions but also including myself. There is no reason for me to wear myself ragged helping everyone else have a good time at my own expense (this also aligns with another oft repeated phrase in our home: "everyone is the same important"). They play at the park, I sittervise with a cup of coffee and a knitting project I don't have to keep my eyes on all the time. On Saturdays, they have "taptap time" (noneducational games on their tablets and supervised internet access to download new episodes of their favorite podcasts) and I read an entire novel in one sitting. If it's not fun for everyone, it's not fun. Under this model, anyone is allowed input (since we're usually all impacted by the decision). Being the Generator of All Ideas is an exhausting job for one person, and this gives the kids a chance to practic

The project that took up most of my month was two [redacted], one a sample/test knit for an upcoming book and one a personal item for the publisher because she liked the original so much but it wasn't in her size. I can't wait to share them with you once the book comes out, but in the meantime, to give you an idea of the time that went into them, here's a list of the audio books I listened to while working on them: Remote Control  by Nnedi Okorafor (a reread) Hood Feminism  by Mikki Kendall (possibly my favorite book so far on intersectional feminism) Under the Whispering Door by TJ Klune Writing Down the Bones  by Natalie Goldberg (the library audiobook I listened to was an anniversary edition read by the author with added commentary at the end of each chapter, which was delightful) Noor  by Nnedi Okorafor (another reread) Cultish  by Amanda Montell (got a hard copy of this one to add to my yearly reads shelf) The Book of Magic by Alice Hoffman The Princess Diarist  by Car

#attunedpracticetuesdays: where we share the rituals and routines that are aligned with our sense of peace and wellbeing I have tried to be a morning person. I really have. All through my teenaged years, my mom (who, by nature or through years of practice, is an early riser) insisted on my morning alarm being set for 6am (a concession on her part; she would have preferred five). I have intermittently attempted to get up before the kids in order to have some uninterrupted time at the beginning of the day - but I've ultimately found that the thing that most helps set my day on the right path is not starting it with the blaring of an alarm. Since my natural waking time is... not early, let's leave it at that, that required some adjustment to the generally prescribed daily order that leaves one, according to self-help influencers and Benjamin Franklin, "healthy, wealthy, and wise." Historically, we have done school in the morning. Theoretically everyone is at their best a

My partner and I came from households with two contrasting money management strategies: one household who sorted cash from every paycheck into labeled envelopes and still sits down together on Sunday evenings to write everything in a ledger, and one household who had more of a "spend it when you get it so you'll have food to eat when the money runs out" philosophy. As the more financially literate partner, budgeting fell to me when we got married. I initially tried to track everything but found that to be a soul-sucking endeavor that didn't really help me accomplish my goals. I have finally landed on a simplified system where I keep a list of each pay period's major recurring expenses, check them off as they occur, and then divide the remaining balance to produce a "daily spending limit." The bills are paid and I'm not trying to figure out what line item flavored coffee syrup should fall under (groceries? eating out? personal spending?) I recently re

I tend to present as a disorganized person, especially if you're sharing space with me. As a kid I would move from project to project, leaving a trail of stacked art supplies and overturned books in my wake, waiting for me to come back and finished them (which I would... eventually). When I had an office job, my cubicle was a small explosion of incomplete tasks, all labeled with sticky notes so I knew what they were and when they were due. I have at times tried to force change, but that kind of change never sticks. What does stick, however, is paying attention to how I naturally am and figuring out how to harmoniously coexist with it, while also getting the stuff done that needs to get done. I do like lists - within reason. I do like planning - to a certain extent. And that's okay. So this month is about frameworks - the lined pages of daily life that are mine to write on what I will, without preprinted dates or prompts, but also without slanting determinedly toward the bottom