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...

Earlier this year, I had an aura portrait. It was a a radiant kaleidoscope of yellow and orange, purple and pink. But in the middle was a small dark smudge. The photographer pointed to it and said it was a mental block; that something was troubling me. I thought about it afterward. My shoulder had been hurting for days, off and on, and I realized (through some journaling and card pulling and observing myself) that I was walking around hunched in on myself, trying to protect my heart. I rolled my shoulders back, lifted my chin, and journaled through what was bothering me. The pain went away. At the end of last month, the week that I would normally begin writing and scheduling posts for the upcoming month, my jaw began to hurt. Intensely. I prodded around and located the source as being in the soft space behind my jaw. There wasn't any swelling or visible problem. I wasn't in pain while I slept or when I first woke up, the motions and activities that triggered searing flashes tha...

July felt very long, and very slow. Not necessarily in a bad way, just like time didn't really matter or exist. We stayed home and inside a lot, ate a lot of ice pops, and splashed in a kiddie pool on the back porch as much as reasonably possible (when the humidity wasn't pushing the heat index well into the triple digits). A lot of days I looked back at the end and wondered what I had even done that day, especially to justify feeling as drained as I did. But I kept everyone fed and in clean clothes. We listened to several audio books (the kids went through the entire Bunnicula series for the first time). There were crafts and knitting and reading and journaling. We all worked on our emotional development - Middle knocked a sibling over by accident and voluntarily went back to check on them, and the little one threw his stuffed animals out of his crib at being told it was time to lay down, but when I came back from tucking in another sibling said he was feeling kinder and asked...

Three years ago, I took my oldest on a combined birthday girls trip to Dallas. It required a lot of planning and coordinating, since she had some tricky allergies and my youngest was still nursing, but we brought Mimi along as adult backup and had fun staying in a hotel, riding the DART to downtown and going to the aquarium. Now she's outgrown her allergies and I'm no longer a food source, so this year she and I went to St Louis while the boys went to visit grandparents (so no one felt left out). We had originally planned on going to the zoo, but ended up arriving in the depths of a heat wave, so we opted for air conditioned activities and went to the aquarium instead. I have been to a lot of aquariums and this was not my favorite, but it was the most interactive one I've been to and she had a delightful time letting doctor fish nibble her hands and feeding a sting ray. We finished out our time at Union Station by riding the Ferris wheel (a concession on her part, because t...

This month was full of outdoor adventures. A year or two ago I found out about Wildwood Park for the Arts' annual lantern festival, but the weather was never the kind I wanted to be outside in. But this year I got tickets for myself and the Bigs, left the little one at home with his dad (who doesn't really like walking around outdoor things anyway), and ventured forth. The Bigs are finally getting old enough to do fun things with, things that involve walking, staying up late, and trying interesting new foods. Of the various cultures represented, Ireland was their favorite, as it involved making flower crowns and watching Irish dance. But getting a lantern to light on fire and put in the water in "India" was a close second. We decided that it definitely needs to be an annual thing. I also took my ballet-loving eldest to an outdoor highlights-of-the-season by Ballet Arkansas. It was a lovely variety of dance styles and costumes, and we got there a bit early and got iced...

My first car was a lightly used silver Scion XA that I absolutely loved. I happily drove Bobby for ten years and he never gave me any trouble and always got me where I needed to go safely. Knowing that someday he would need to be replaced, I kept half an eye on vehicles and settled on a bright green Scion IM as my preferred next vehicle. But you can't fit three carseats in the back of an IM or an XA, so four years ago Bobby went to live with a professional cleaner who needed a reliable car with good gas mileage and a back hatch that didn't require propping open with a broom handle and I ended up with a van. Morrison was exactly what we needed and the kids loved him, but I did not particularly enjoy driving (or parking) something so big. Deciding that we didn't need two gas guzzling vehicles and in preparation for a job that was an hour drive away, my partner traded in his big pick up truck... for a Corolla Hatchback, which is what IMs became when Toyota absorbed Scion five ...

This month has been typical of an Arkansas winter (as I know them - I'm told my grandfather watched the grown ups cut ice blocks from the river when he was a child and I've never seen that river frozen solid enough to walk on). There have been several days out of almost every week that allowed for outdoor walks in short sleeves - aaand we were also iced in for three days. Some parts of the state (and country) got snow, but we got three inches of danger sprinkles, tiny sleet balls that fell with a sound like broken glass and were absolutely impossible to mold or walk on without slipping. The ice came after grocery day but regrettably spanned the days the Bigs would normally have ninja gymnastics and ballet, respectively, but since neither got to go, both were at peace with it. My partner downloaded the Spyro video games and taught the Bigs how to play, and the little one sat on the bed with everyone else and provided commentary. I took everyone to a park the next week to make up...

No cabin fever yet, and indeed when I attempted to take a child with me on a drive-through errand after we'd all been in quarantine for a week (so the Bigs missed ballet and ninja gymnastics) there was a meltdown over the prospect of leaving, so I'd say we've all adjusted pretty well to being home most of the time. Perhaps a little too well. Less has been done than I hoped, but rest has also been possible since the things I wanted to do were pretty rather than essential. I have read a sizable stack of books, and one aloud to the Bigs (The Borrowers, and then we watched The Secret World of Arrietty). I've journaled with some regularity, finished a couple of commissions, and started several projects for myself. I've also taken a lot of naps, sat in the sun, taken a surprising number of walks for January (some in short sleeves), and cared for a house full of sick people (including myself). The massive clean out/organizing project I hoped to complete has not even been s...

One of my favorite things about this time of year is that my middle, who'll be turning seven the week before Christmas, is fairly certain that all of the wonderful extras that happen about now are more or less especially for his birthday. I've no intention of telling him otherwise because it brings him great joy, and honestly may we all feel so celebrated, and so confident in our worth. The way everyone decorates their homes with lights and garlands? The music that only gets played for a month? The drive through light show? The special seasonal events? Yeah, that's for me. I don't worry about it being a problem because he absolutely loves sharing what he loves with the people he loves. On our way to see the fancy silk lantern sculptures at the zoo, he mourned that we hadn't brought his little brother with us (I didn't feel like keeping track of a three year old in the dark and left him with daddy). He doesn't feel less special that everyone  gets presents so...

Queen Anne's Lace The sky was blue, the air was crisp and clear. Huge mountains towered over me, sharp pointed and snow topped. I had just gotten out of the car, and I toddled toward a bed that had been planted with a wildflower mix. My mom pointed to one, a white circle as big as my face, made up of innumerable tiny white petals. "There's a carrot under there," she said. I stared at it in suspicion and disbelief. She grasped the stem near the ground and pulled. Lo, a carrot! I carried it around for the rest of the day, marveling. Dandelion I picked a handful of blooming weeds and carried them inside to my grandma. She accepted them less graciously than I wanted, busy perhaps with making lunch for everyone or cleaning up a mess someone else had made. Later, I was told, we would go visit my great grandparents. I knew Granddad was sick, as much as a three year old can understand cancer. I went back outside. Carefully this time, I made sure to pick the flowers close to t...

I tend to think about things... a lot. I  would not call myself an "over thinker," as it is my opinion that I think precisely the correct amount for any given situation - but an objective observer might disagree. Part of the reason I do that is because I enjoy thinking, because I don't like the consequences of under thinking something, and also because I am conditioned to place a certain degree of moral value on Thinking Thoughtfully. By nature, I am also aware of my capacity to not  think, and I try not to overindulge that aspect of myself. But in the interest of seeking balance, I've done a few exercises in releasing control recently. The first was going in a local bookstore and announcing my intention to choose a book by its cover (this prompt was externally driven, and was not my original idea). I don't think I've ever seen booksellers so excited as those two ladies were. They promptly had a semi-whispered discussion on the ethics of deliberately facing so...

Up to this point in our homeschooling journey, we've done "unschooling" (that is an actual thing, feel free to Google). It's essentially a belief that small children do best with only gentle guidance and don't really benefit from being put in chairs and told to stay there for hours on end, but rather being encouraged to follow where curiosity leads.  Somewhat to my chagrin, neither of the Bigs had shown much curiosity about reading, despite gentle prodding from me (I was an early and voracious reader and Do Not Understand the reticence). But over the summer they both started getting the hang of it, and Brooklyn agreed with me in discussion that while she appreciates how I've been letting her explore phonics (and therefore phonetic spelling - I think my favorite so far has been "kulring paij"/coloring page) it is now time to learn spelling and get a bit more organized about how we learn (although I'd definitely like to continue our commentary-on-e...

After doing an updated intro post on Instagram several weeks ago, I asked myself why bother with a reintroduction? Why not just switch up my content to reflect who I am now?  but I thought about it and decided that integrity demanded one. If we view "integrity" as "the state of being whole and undivided" (one of its definitions, according to the New Oxford American Dictionary), then I want to give the people who knew me/followed me before a clear opportunity to part ways if they don't share my new path. I'm not here to force anything on anyone. And also, I want to have integrity within myself. I treat the identities of others with respect, looking up name pronunciations and doing my best to remember pronouns and celebrating each phase of others' personal evolutions--and I should do the same for myself. If I'm walking through my house, comfortable and confident, and I say aloud "it's a they day!" I should (and did, when it happened) stop...

How do you fill  a bowl  with light?  You hold it,  empty,  up to the sun. My earliest introduction to fireflies was at my grandparents' house in the Ozark mountains. They had (still have, in fact) a huge sturdy oak tree that had been twice struck by lightning - a scar on the broad trunk its only acknowledgement of an event that reduced its ash neighbor to scattered splinters - and fireflies rose from the acidic soil like shards of lightning returning to the sky. I danced beneath the oak, gazing up into branches thick with leathery leaves and clusters of mistletoe, the air thick with humidity and jarfly screeching, and the scattered twinkle of fireflies. I caught them gently, one by one, whispering a wish and letting them go, watching them rise to join the stars. No one taught me this, but in my child heart I believed that if any earthly creature could carry my small desires to the Creator of the Milky Way, it was these tiny light bearers. In the sanctuary of th...

Ten years ago I had my first impactful  experience  with community. When a recent micro essay course  prompted us to write about what it means to be together, my mind immediately traveled back to Park Slope. I mapped the space as a warm up (another exercise we did in the course) and was amazed at how many details I remembered - but I shouldn't have been, because my mind returns to that place often. The books were the first thing I noticed. There was a bookcase, and a shelf full of books above the couch - books were also stacked under the couch, under the bed, and on top of the kitchenette cabinets. Books took up more space than furniture. The next thing I noticed was how she packed the ten of us in like a game of human Tetris. Two at the table, one perched on the counter, four on the bed with our backs to the chipped plaster walls, and three slender volunteers squeezed onto the couch. More people than furniture, too. We complimented her book-stacking skills, then opened o...

We lived across the country from my grandparents for much of my childhood. The trip to visit took a day, maybe two, depending on where we were coming from at the time, and as the only non driver in the family unit, I was handed a map and taught how to read it at the age of six, contributing as navigator. I'd get a directive like "we'll be hitting Nashville close to rush hour so I'd like to go around instead of through" and I'd give orders like "in two miles you'll be taking exit 147A on the left toward Lebanon so you should start getting over now" and the driver would actually do what I said. It was a very-confidence building experience. A map of my favorite place to write I still love maps, and I have a broad definition of what I consider a map. There's the traditional sort, of course - wide earth made flat, roads and river unimaginably long and broad now traceable with a fingertip. I'm not averse to using GPS, especially if I'm goin...

After spending a year stuck together at all times (we did homeschool before, but there were still outings and extracurriculars and a few weekly studies where we each got to go to our own class for a couple of hours), we have grown thoroughly sick of each other and then come out the other side of that to a reluctant acceptance that may be beginning to border on enjoyment again. One issue that we ran into last summer was that all of the kids were at somewhat awkward ages. Neither of the older two could work the swing themselves (we have a disc swing) so that put me standing by the tree continuously lifting them on and off it, while the littlest toddled precariously around our slanted, rocky yard trying to sample everything he could pick up. But there has begun to be a shift. Last fall I taught the Bigs how to wash dishes (the tallest rinses, the shorter loads) and they've happily adopted that as Their Task (candy afterward likely helps, but it's a small price to pay for delegatin...

The snow is coming thickly down on what was already a couple of inches from yesterday (here in the South we get our Winter all at once over a week, if we have it at all) so this will be a week of staying home, staying warm, and doing lots of reading and knitting. But for now, here's a little round up of some of the hearts that I've spotted (and quested) over the past few weeks. Where are the hearts near you?  

I exist in a paradoxical state of thriving on both structure and spontaneity. Too much structure and I begin to feel trapped, too much spontaneity and everything crumbles into chaos around me. So I need to keep them in balance. I've been this way since childhood, distinctly remembering The Day I Didn't Make Any Decisions with horror (I believe it was supposed to be a teaching moment but I do not remember the lesson) but also having clung with near desperation to any ritual or tradition I could find. One way that I manage to have both at the same time is with "systems" (this is the family term for them). Each day has a designated theme (for the kids) and then is divided into roughly two hour blocks. But that is just the penciled outline - how we color it in day to day is up to us. It's Words Day today - will we sit under a blanket and read all day together, play phonics games, split up and read in our own spaces, put together the alphabet floor puzzle and hop aroun...

Life these past ten months seems to have been reduced to a series of framed moments - moments viewed on phone screens and out car windows. We live vicariously, together, and I've struggled to balance in home engagement against the allure of endless episodes of Puffin Rock and The Wild Kratts. A recent positive is an uptick in alternative activities, similar to the beginning of the pandemic, doggedly bringing the cheer, even if it looks a little different this year.   It's finally begun to get cold here in the South. Last week I sat on the front step in a T-shirt and knitted - this week I had to defrost an impressive frozen display off the windshield before we could do our grocery pick up. Unable to go outside and with indoor places not currently an option, we've spent a lot of time looking out windows. We got a suet feeder a few years ago as a gift, so this year when we put it out we added a platform feeder for variety. We're trying to attract twenty different species (...