My favorite month, June, is upon us. My love for June has very little to do with that fact that it is my birthday month, and everything to do with what's happening out-of-doors. A quite reliable warmth begins to take over, the sunshine seems to beam just a bit stronger, the sounds of birds and children alike seem to echo in a new way and everywhere I look, flowers, trees and gardens are in bloom.
Since my two little ones, Luca who has just turned four and Cecelia who is six months old, are participants in the seven o'clock bedtime, there is a little time to exhale between dinner and bedtime. Lately, we have been enjoying that sweet morsel of time outside in our backyard.
The scene goes something like this- me laying out a soft, old quilt for baby to roll and play on, Luca filling pail-after-pail of water to mix with our garden dirt to make mud and dip his feet in, peaceful birds landing (and just as quickly flying away from) our fence, and the sun casting a warm shade of golden light onto 'our spot'.
And oh, there are fairy houses. Each night a new one is built. It doesn't take much in the way of materials for Luca to fashion a house to his liking- dried bark from the woodpile, grass clippings, a bit of clover and a golden dandelion for detail. He things they are fancy. He feels proud as he builds them, steps back, and then admires his handiwork. I sit quietly and smile. No praising, just happiness at my little boy's innocence and contentedness in the simple things.
Years ago, my older pair started building fairy houses. I am certain there are books (how-to perhaps) on the details of these magical little dwellings. We never needed them. We simply followed the rule- one can use anything to build the house that is of natural material.
It had been so long since we've been in the fairy house building stage that I had nearly forgotten about them. I'm so pleased that Luca has brought me back to that enchanted period of motherhood again.
We spent hours outside today. Typically during this time of year there is a thaw that eases us folks here in New England into a muddy, chilly start to the spring season. But not this year. There is nothing to thaw out and no snow to melt into a mucky layer on our earth. What a mild winter it has been.
We spent time outside in between each lesson today during our homeschooling. I remember this time of year very well. The time of year when the warmth and sunlight are calling everyone outside to come taste and see that spring is indeed right around the corner.
There is a battle going on between duty and impulse; a war being waged on all the good intentions of a dutiful mother by the strong rhythm of the change in seasons. Try as I may to focus on the inside of my home- just one more load of laundry to put in to the wash, a floor in need of some serious sweeping, a house to be tidied- the call to be out-of-doors always wins out in the end. Who needs formal academics when their are lessons to be learned out in the natural world- lessons that are always engaging, never lend themselves to boredom and never require a Sunday night's time to plan out?
And as if it wasn't hard enough to push against the pull of three children yearning for their feet to hit the grass running, now I have a fourth pull begging with a sweet whine 'pease, side, pease, side' (please take me outside!).
I do believe the odds are against me.
And just tell me who on earth can resist a toddler wearing red rain boots who insists on wearing his big brother's fedora riding a tricycle?!
This is how I imagined my children's summers to be: loads of outdoor time coupled with just as much time spent with their nose in books.
This is what our reality has been: one (quality) book barely finished by my ten year old, ten minute reading sessions two to three times weekly for my eight year old, about five picture books weekly read with my five year old and several board books read with and eaten then torn by my fifteen month old.
I am trying not to to feel badly about the lack of reading that has been our reality this summer.
And in order to do this I have forced myself to take that much-needed step back to gain a bit of perspective and see the 'big picture'. Thank goodness for the big picture.
I sort of joked with a dear friend and homeschooling mother of five early on in the summer that my only hope for my children this summer was for them to grow tall and tan.
It seems I got my wish.
So here we are peering over the weekend into our last week of summer vacation next week with a household of children who have spent nearly every waking hour out-of-doors during these summer months. Their knees are scraped. Their skin is golden brown. They are strong and lean and fiercely agile. Their bicycle tires have been ridden bare. Our neighbors have even remarked how quiet it was one afternoon when they were out playing at friends' houses. There are days when I think I have just as much dirt inside my house then outside. My dustpan would agree with me.
By the time night falls everyone is good and tired. They want to go straight to bed and forgo their books in favor of sweet sleep. (And yes, we are 'one of those families' whose children are getting tucked in while the other neighborhood children are running around in the streets and ringing our doorbell. We believe in the seven o'clock bedtime around here (well, 7:45). It is good for parents and children alike. My children require lots of sleep and our family functions excellently with an early bedtime and lots of quiet time for the adults at night.).
But I digress.
Oh, yes, the books.
I think the fact that we are Charlotte Mason homeschoolers helps to comfort me when I am feeling like a failure for not helping my children fill their summer reading program booklets from our local library. There is so much excellent, high-quality literature being read on a daily basis in our home during the months of September through May that it is hard for me to feel like I am short-changing my wee ones. We spend several hours reading living books each day and even the free reading books that I choose with my children are high-quality classics.
So now that I have cleared my conscience and eaten humble pie over actually getting what I asked for in June, I can look confidently into the school year knowing full well that I will most certainly have a post or two to share on some really good book lists.
Another snowfall last night. We think it was about fourteen inches this time. Our snow banks are well over six feet tall. Our road is narrowing. My children have literally been sledding down our front lawn because there is such an embankment.
Inside all is warm and cozy. Nothing has changed. Sure, we may have needed to bump up our thermostat a bit more during day and night, but that is a luxury that we could have certainly done without.
Nothing much changes in the modern world during these snowy, winter days.
I began thinking about our modern world and how we can pretty much maintain our lifestyle despite snowstorms, heatwaves, holidays, illness, and such. We get angry when anyone or anything in life tries to slow us down. People literally get angry at the snow.
I had a neighbor approach me a few summers ago on a particularly hot August day. She was concerned that my children might be too hot outside and asked if they would like to come inside with her daughter to watch cable TV in her air-conditioned bedroom. I politely declined and handed my children a cup of water.
It was summer. They were loving life. Riding bikes, getting hot, sweaty and even pink-cheeked is what children are supposed to be doing in the summer. Right?
We have been reading Ollie's Ski Trip over the last two weeks and simply love this book. Elsa Beskow has quickly become one of my favorite authors and illustrators. This is a story about six-year old Ollie who receives his first pair of real skis. He is dreaming of snow and one morning wakes up to find plenty of it. He is so excited that he wants to jump straight out of bed first thing and spend the day skiing. His mother insists that he eat breakfast first and then stuffs two sandwiches into his coat pockets and tells him to be home by dinner. He then sets off alone into the forest and encounters Jack Frost, King Winter, Mrs. Thaw and all sorts of little elves and gnomes. There are images of warmth, knitting, snowball fights, ice castles and many other magical experiences.
This is what I want for my children- a desire to be outdoors despite the temperature, a boldness to 'take on the forest alone', the physical stamina and experience to withstand a full day of activity, a contentment to experience the elements without the need for outside stimulation or media, a natural curiosity about 'what could be' and the actual experience of the simple joys of childhood.
My desire for these simple joys is immense. It shapes our family's life daily. It often seems like a fierce battle to fight- to balance the blessings of modern life with the burdens that it potentially brings- but it is one that I am willing to look straight in the eyes and take on.
With the holidays upon us, all of the (good and bad) toy catalogs making their way from the mailbox to my coffee table and the long lists (both paper and mental) of my childrens' wishes being crafted, I would say that it is the perfect time to think about TOYS!
I am a minimalist when it comes to children's playthings and believe that less is more, will choose quality over quantity anyday, believe that a toy should be open to the many possibilities of creative play, must be beautiful and pleasing to the eye and tend to give preference to toys made from natural materials.
With that said, there are certainly toys in my home that are not ideal, but for me it is important to look at the 'bigger picture' here and not become so rigid and purist that there is stress and guilt associated with what toys my children are playing with.
My children tend to play with so many things things that are not toys on a daily basis. It seems that they are often asking me for quilts and blankets, using my pots and pans and utensils, asking for some form of water play and lately have been giddy about being allowed to find the hidden nooks and crannies in our (rather unfinished) basement.
So it is with great joy and satisfaction that I share this link with you about un-toys. It is one amazing, inspiring and creative list of playthings for children that will take you out of the big box toy store and digging in your own cupboards, toolsheds and backyards for the items that many children are really desiring to play with.
I love the concept of un-toys. My childrens’ best-loved toys are nearly all un-toys! They spark creativity and let them dictate their own play in such amazing ways.
Enjoy this wonderful resource... I know that I have!
Who could resist this request coming from an adorable four-year old boy with a smile that is bright enough to light the night sky? Not I.
Those of you with more than one child know that there is usually one child that typically makes requests and lets you know what they need, want and are thinking of doing all day, every day. This is the child that typically starts their sentences with "Mom can we...?".
Then there is the child that rarely ever asks for a darn thing. This is usually the more complacent child, the go-with-the-flow sort of little human that is content with life in general and the current state of affairs within the home.
And of course there is the one (or more) who lie somewhere in between.
Well I happen to have all three types in this house. Without naming the other names, I will say that Elias is the somewhere in between child. He makes his requests known when he really wants something... which isn't very often. And when this happens, it is my delight and joy to fulfill the request if it is at all within reason.
Once the request to become a cowboy for the day was placed I knew that it would be my afternoon goal to make his vision a reality.
We spent a small amount of time at a local thrift store and came home with several key pieces- cowboy hat, bandanna and plaid shirt. After adding his favorite pair of jeans and his mucky boots all he needed to complete this look was a tad of dirt. This was a non-issue. In no time at all he was rolling around in the dirt- his usual spot to play in our yard- and had that natural I just wrangled some cattle look to complete the ensemble.
I didn't tell him that I secretly felt proud when I saw him trying oit the tough-guy look on his face or how I swelled with tears when I looked out the window and saw my little cowboy innocently and uninhibitedly riding his bike up and down the sidewalk.
He wasn't thinking about how he looked all dressed up or who might think it a silly outfit to wear outside on an August afternoon or if his cowboy look was authentic enough. He was happy to be doing what he was doing in that moment.
For you see, there is no shame or 'embarrassing moments' for a four-year old cowboy.
Luca is now six weeks old. He is just as sweet as the day I first met him and continues to bring joy to all of us each day. He is so good at nursing now and my milk supply is well-established. He is still being smothered with kisses and at times even licked still. Each child takes turns daily declaring how much Luca looks just like them. The verdict is still out on exactly who he looks like. I honestly see a bit of each child in his little face and being. Their is such a familiar feel to Luca that it seems he has been part of our family all along. It's so amazing how a new baby can bring so much more love to the entire family and home.
Today was quite productive and it felt wonderful to be working at keeping up with my house again. I spent the morning sorting through toys and conducted- what we call in our home- the toy audit with a willing and cheerful spirit!
The rule of thumb is that if they haven't played with the toy, game, puzzle or item in the past few months then I donate it. I also regularly donate toys that have lost their open-ended-ness and are simply being stepped over or abused. I also throw out any toys that are broken and cannot be repaired. This helps to keep toys to a minimum and leaves room for imaginative play and calls on the children to care for their toys and playthings because the quantity of manageable and not overwhelming. Toys can lose their magic when they are sitting in mountain-sized piles on the floor!
We also made our weekly trip to the library and local bread store. I have made it our weekly routine to visit the bread store right after our library trip on Tuesdays to serve as our lunch for the day. The children love trying to bread each week and I know that I have one meal to look forward to being taken care of- albeit carbohydrate rich and protein-poor! We also have a delicious loaf to enjoy for the following morning's breakfast. This week it's blueberry streusel... gosh I can hardly wait until morning!
So I have these two boys who are smitten with everything and anything that is found in the great out doors. They were nearly born grasping sticks in their hands and it seems they have yet to put them down ever since.
They spend their days planning and building traps, forts and snares. They have made their own hatchets out of wood, twine and rocks. They ask our dear librarians for books on things like Native weaponry and woodworking.
I was asked last year by Nicolas, who at the time was five years old, if he was old enough to have his own swiss army knife yet. You may ask why a five year old would know about pocket knives and I would tell you that it is because they have already been given three or four of them by their grandfathers for "when they get older". This you see, is like showing candy to a toddler and then quickly snatching it away for a later date. It just doesn't go over so well.
Other interests include locating birds of prey, map making complete with symbols, chasing turkeys down our street, perfecting animal calls, whittling sticks (with adult supervision of course) and climbing trees to dangerous heights (thus the ever-growing amount of white hair that has recently starting growing).
Sometimes I wonder where this all came from. I am a firm believer in gender differences and my children alone have confirmed my beliefs- same home, same parents, same books, same educational experiences, no cable TV- different interests entirely. But I still question sometimes whether these interests, no passions, have been learned from their environment or if they are coming from somewhere deeper and stronger that I have no understanding of.
And then something happened the other day that solidified one of the theories that I have been holding to for years now.
My Dad, their Grampie, came to visit on Monday afternoon. We were visiting out front and before we knew it, Nicolas was up in the tree, taking his place among the branches. Before I knew it, Grampie was right up there with him.
Yes, my Dad hoisted himself up in the tree and took his place with his grandson high about our heads.
It was a moment I will always remember. And I just had to capture it.
All of the small connections that I have been making in my head over the years started weaving themselves together into one large and sensible idea. Genes. There must be a genetic component to all of this sticks and stones buisness. And from what I can tell, a lot of it has come directly from my Dad.
So the next time my child brings in a handful of- what he is calling deer dropplings- and accidentally drops them in the living room, I will have my Dad to thank. The next time I find one of them hammering nails in our front yard tree in an attempt to tap the tree for sap, I will remember my father. Special thanks also go out to...
My husband- for passing down his dare-devil bike riding skills and love of After all when you start rididng motorcycles at age 4, this tends to happen. My brother- hunter, archer and woodsmen extraordinaire, who just returned home from his first bear hunt with, ahem, the desired end result.
My husband's father, their Pepere- whose love of motorcycles has yet to fade and whose desire for adventure continues to this day. Who has owned a boat, numerous motorcylces and nearly purchased an ultra-light just a few years back (thank goodness).
And to my grandfather, my Papa- a life-long pilot and scubadiver, whose adventures took him to Burma and India during war-time and whose portrait with a Bengal tiger we have framed in the boys room.
Sophia spent two days this week collecting shells at two different lakes in the area.
She collected them and kept them in a few mason jars for a bit. Then she washed the shells. Then she decided to let them sit in the sun for a bit. Then she decided it was time to spread them out to dry. After dumping them all out on the deck, she decided to count them all.
All in all she collected 342 shells. Yes, that's three hundred and forty-two shells. She counted them one-by-one and other than a few interruptions from her brothers, I'm pretty sure her estimate is fairly accurate.
Lots of free play and mayhem going on around here these days. Cold weather equals limited bursts of outdoor play spread throughout the day. Cold weather plus sleet, freezing rain and drizzle equals an indoors-only sentence for the day for both mother and children alike.
If I were to choose the highest compliment to pay my children and was forced to only choose one very important quality about the three of them as a whole, it would be that they rarely ever (I daresay never, because I'm sure there's been one time) tell me that they are bored. I just don't hear the word spoken in this house. Really.
Of course there is a trade-off that goes with this reality and it is something having to do with them making their own kind of fun, entertainment, games and activities in my/our living space (which is quite small).
But after all the fun is had, there is so, so much clean-up at the end of a day of free-play. It's kind of the buy now, pay later philosophy that so many adults struggle with accepting. And often my children are a bit less enthusiastic about the pay later or rather you-must-clean-up-after-you-play part of the equation than they are about the initial purchase.
It is all so wonderful and I love seeing them
build pillow forts, draw up plans for yet another theatrical performance, plan a marionette puppet presentation ("Mom, can we use your sewing machine to make some marionettes?"), dress each other up, trade outfits just for fun, move furniture, plan pillowcase sack races, paint pictures, design obstacle courses, set up store-fronts and choreograph dance routines.
Lots of activity.
In the end, everything is put back where it belongs. The chairs are pushed neatly back into their spots at the table, the sofa slipcover is pinched, pulled and straightened into place, the blankets are folded and stacked and the paint smears are cleaned off of their little foreheads.
Is it worth it? Absolutely. It is literally one of my favorite parts of motherhood and I wouldn't trade any of these days where our house is bursting at the seams with excitement, creativity and mayhem for anything.
Well, we don't know how long the lean-to will last, but it was certainly still standing tall this morning when the kids went out to see their fort.
They spent some more time packing in damp leaves and laying smaller logs on top of the fort before we left for a day out with our homeschool co-op. They couldn't wait to get home to work on it some more and spent the day trying to convince me to let them camp out overnight in it.
I told them they could have a half-sleepover. You know, everything you would do on an overnight of camping out right up until the point when you would actually fall asleep.
After numerous mentions of terms like nightfall, supplies, sleeping bags, flashlights and the possibility of wolves, they were all set to take up their spaces in the little fort.
I don't know what they were talking about during their time in the fort. I do know that they were happy and made do with a bowl of buttered popcorn and a flashlight. They were content and proud and feeling quite independent.
This is a view from inside the fort. As you can see, lots and lots of wood and leaves were used to build this thing. But more than that, loads of creativity, large amounts of muscle and a great deal of brother-sister teamwork.
They were proud. But I think I was even more proud.
With so much in limbo around here lately, I've had to find a way to stay grounded and focused. Trying to find a rythym and routine when so many changes are underway is quite the challenge.
As my blog headline states: "the adventures of a family living a simple, creative, home-centered life", I really try to keep these goals in mind when going about the day-to-day activities and happenings.
It seems that whenever I start to stray from these aims of mine, things just start to go south. Pretty fast.
When I try to add too much, do too much or produce too much and lose the simplicity I long for, I end up expending all of my patience, resourcefulness and energy on things that aren't really that important to me and have nothing left to give my family, the people that matter most to me.
When I try to focus solely on the needs and go into survival mode like some sort of homemaking robot I end up sacrificing my need to create/be creative (in some measly way!) and miss out on the amazing satisfaction and calm that I feel after expressing a bit of myself into something I've created, sewn, cooked or written (with or without my kids).
When I start to venture out of the house too much and begin frittering my time away with unnecessary errands, outings and visits, then I start to feel like a stranger in my own home when I return. How overwhelming it can be to be gone most of the day and return home to a day's worth of chores and cares that would have otherwise been worked at bit by bit had I spent the better part of my day at home. What this creates in me is a sense of not wanting to return home and the temptation of using my home simply as a launching pad to stop in quickly to restock before I'm out and about again. Being home-centered is not only a want that I posses, but also a need.
So, it's in moments like this when I see my children playing simply, using their imaginations, using supplies at hand, free-playing outdoors and spending time together in a peaceful way that my heart just soars and all of these long and energetic summer days seem worthwhile.
buckets + water from the hose = contentment
a simple fort made from wood scraps, sheets and blankets
a firepit containing (what I overheard them say was) dried deer meat and lettuce soup
Sophia washing the the "lettuce soup"
I took this photo last week, but thought that it really captured the closeness of this brother-sister pair and wanted to share the love with all of you!
If I could choose one word to describe the mood of this week it would be inspired.
With the feeling of inspiration comes also the promise of hope; the accompaniment of an "I can do this" attitude, will and mindset. By “this” of course, I mean motherhood and more specifically, homeschooling.
What is it that makes us meet the same daily tasks with a different drive each time? I believe it has a lot to do with p e r s p e c t i v e.
My perspective is certainly in the right place right this week. It's one of those seasons of life where I feel like I can take on whatever life has to offer me. Or, at least what my kids feel like sending my way.
One of the events that continually spurs me on toward this right sort of mindset is our weekly Monday Homeschooling Classes. It's a co-op for local homeschoolers and we meet each Monday here in our town at the Lutz Children’s Museum. The museum is closed on Mondays and allows us to use their space. To say that the children have “free run” of the place is one drastic understatement!
It is here that I have the benefit and blessing of being surrounded by like-minded people who value the benefits that children receive when they are educated and nurtured at home.
It is here, in this accepting and encouraging space, that I never care what my kids are wearing or how my hair looks or if my son is wielding a stick wildly in an open field (totally not politically correct!). There is such an absence of judgment amongst the families in our group. It is a community of families who are immune to the messages that the world is loudly blasting in their direction. Messages about what our families
should look like, or
be able to do at a certain age or
should or shouldn’t be acting like.
Messages that tell us that our children should be in a "structured" and "socialized" environment.
Whether it's attending a class, exploring the museum or watching the children run about with freedom and reckless abandon in that wide open field, I feel that my children are in good hands. The feeling of community here is like no other. It is a place where each mother is not only responsible and mindful of what their own children are up to, but also tuned in to what the other children are doing. This, of course, brings peace of mind and security. A security in knowing that if someone says they will sit and watch your child while you attend a class with a younger sibling/need a bathroom break/need to help monitor the museum hallways you always know that they mean what they say.
I came home yesterday from a refreshing nearly-three hour bout of time spent with this group and felt like I could take on the world. My kids were well exercised and had experience massive amounts of fresh air, free play and time spent connecting with other children. They were happy and worry-free; they seemed to have more child-like innocence after leaving than when we arrived.
I am truly thankful for this group and for all of the encouragement, inspiration and confirmation that it lends to our family. It just confirms every time that that this is the right place for our children to be spending the better part of their day- at home.
