Wonderful Kids

I woke up very early this morning worrying that what I wrote in yesterday's post might come off wrong. I read many blogs about many wonderful kids--mostly they are written by my friends and I can vouch for it--they do have awesome kids. And I may possibly have mentioned a time or two that my kids are wonderful too. If not, for the record: M, Z and E = wonderful. The point I was trying to make (clearly I have a problem making my points!) is that parenting is hard sh*t and it's nice to have the companionship of someone who has been through the same (or worse) when you're going through the rough patches. So yes, write away about your great kids (I probably don't do that enough!) but also tell me about those times you are going to gouge your own eyes out with a grapefruit spoon if you don't get just five minutes peace! (Which is exactly how I have felt for the last three weeks solid--except I did get a few hours peace last night at dinner with a friend and I feel muuuuuch better now.)

Blogging, Truth, and Beauty

So I’ve been mulling over this post from Soulemama the last couple of days, in which she admits to having bad days, just like the rest of us (I wanted to say, “us mortals” there, but I restrained myself), but that she chooses to document the things that are beautiful and joyful in her life so that that is what she focuses on, and in doing so bring more of it into her life. Now I admit, as I have many times in the past, to being a Soulemama addict, and I also admit to one of my reasons for returning again and again to her blog is to fuel my sense of inadequacy. I also admit that when a couple of months ago she took a blog break because her entire family was sick, my first thought was, “Wow, they really are human.”

Apparently someone has implied that that only focusing on one element of life (in this case the happy, happy, joy, joy element) is not truthful. Soulemama doesn’t think so, and neither do I. It’s impossible (and would be highly boring) to write about every single thing in our lives—we all pick and choose what to write about, and that is our truth. I do think it’s less real, and a lot less interesting. Honestly, I don’t want to read about how ever-lovin’ wonderful your kids are. But if your kid pooped in your hand yesterday, yeah that’s a story I wanna hear. The essence of story is conflict, and the point of literature is catharsis—pity and fear. I can pity you because yeah, it would totally suck to have poop in your hand; and I can feel fear, because it could happen to me someday. I can also have a moment of relief, because even if my day is totally sucking, well, at least no one has pooped in my hand (yet). Besides, chances are if you’re writing about your kid pooping in your hand, it’s going to be a pretty g*d d*amn funny story, and I tell ya sister, I could use a laugh.

When I saw The Passion of the Hausfrau this weekend (What? You haven’t gotten your tickets yet? What are you waiting for?), I laughed and cried so hard because I was right there with her when her kids were freaking out in the grocery store, when her son turned every stick or log or piece of toast into a gun or rocket launcher, when she realized she had just let her own life pass her by while she was focused on her kids. That’s the kind of story I want to read.

I have actually had the thought recently that my kids are at such a good place right now, they’re not very interesting to write about. Not that we don’t still have our moments (and our days), but 3/3/7 is SUCH and improvement over 2/2/6 and 1/1/5 and probably 0/0/4 (except I can hardly remember those days—did I actually live through that??)

But at least Soulemama has a clear reason and purpose for blogging, and apparently it’s working for her—she has 1000s of readers, has written two books, has a thriving Etsy store, advertisers and sponsors. I still don’t know why exactly I started this blog, or why I keep it up, other than as a platform for my Leo desire to be the center of attention to wrestle with my Introvert desire for no one to notice me. Ever. It clearly has not helped improve my writing skills, or forwarded my writing career. I have a long list of publications to which I plan on submitting work, but I can’t seem to collect the time, energy, motivation and focus to sit down and pen an essay for cryin’ out loud.

I read blogs with really good writing; ones that make me laugh; ones from which I can learn something—about current events, politics, a new way of viewing an old issue; ones that inspire me to make something, cook something, do something, go somewhere; ones that give me recipes or craft plans (although lately I’ve been rebelling against this romanticization of the domestic, like it’s an evil plot of the Patriarchy to keep us wimmins barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen or at the sewing machine). I also turn to blogs like Soulemama and others that make life appear so dreamy and peaceful and perfect to give me a little boost when my life appears anything but.

Another Potholder Meltdown

Last summer, in the midst of the Buy Nothing Year, I had a minor melt-down over my potholders, which are gross and disgusting food-encrusted charred things that, if ever I had a celebrity chef (I'm talking to you, Rick Bayless!) over to make dinner, would horrify him right out of my house.

Exhibit A.



Of course my meltdown wasn't really about the potholders, they were just a metaphor for my shabby-ass life that in the moment of feeling completely overwhelmed by life in general, made me feel like I had zero control over anything, and that if only I could just get my hands on one of those lovely striped Guatemalan potholders, everything would be OK. I didn't rush out and buy a Guatemalan potholder, mostly because it was late on a Sunday evening, when nothing in the entire state of Maine is open, and by Monday morning I had gained a little more perspective (I did eventually buy one of those potholders, but to assuage any guilt, I put it in C's Christmas stocking!)



I still have the three really yucky potholders, however. It recently struck me that I could just make new ones, and I initially had every intention of just making new covers to go over the old pot holders, to avoid having to buy heat-resistant fabric. But the more I considered it, the more I was just way too grossed out by them, and concerned that maybe they are releasing fire retardant chemicals into our food every time we use them. Additionally, they don't even work all that well (the plaid one has a hole in the middle through which I burn myself every time I use it).
I found a piece of strawberry material my mom gave me, and some red that matched. I put it all off for some time because i didn't want to deal with making biased tape and that little loop in the corner, until I had the brilliant realization that I NEVER hang my pot holders, so i don't NEED a little loop.

Finally, Sunday morning, between the disastrous Earth Scouts adventure and going to The Passion of the Hausfrau (which you REALLY need to go see, unless you're too far away from Portland, in which case pre-order the book at your local indie book store), I set to work and made potholders, without loops, using just two layers of cotton batting and no heat-resistant fabric (I finished the first one just in time to take scones out of the oven and it seemed to work fine).



As I may have mentioned, I've been in a kind of dark place lately, and as I sewed I was feeling quite despondent that I've come to a place in my life where sewing pot holders has become a satisfying weekend activity, and that the realization that I don't need a loop on my pot holders qualifies as a "brilliant revelation." This is really not where I planned to be in life. As it turns out, new potholders were not the panacea I hoped them to be (and they already are getting burnt bagel soot and melted cheese on them).

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And The Winner (of the fabulous zine give-away) is: Sara (of the great mom of three boys--including twins--and Bakfiets-love blog, Full Hands)! Sara--send me an email and let me know if you want me to send it directly to you or to a gift recipient!

And for those of you who did not win, but still want to get your hands on a copy of GEMINI, it's only $3 for a single issue--email me at andreaelani at yahoo dot com and get your very own copy!

Big Boy Beds

My dream has finally been realized and the boys now have bunk beds!



I didn't have to build them myself, after all, but neither did I convince C to build them...instead his dad had a free week back in February and built them for us (I ordered plans online and made him follow them, rather than randomly throwing wood together). The parts sat in our playhouse for close to a month waiting for C and me to get our act together and get mattresses. I really wanted something organic/environmentally friendly, but at ten times the price of the mattresses at the nearby discount furniture store, I couldn't justify it (now I know just where my limits are!) I did find organic sheets at Target for only $40 (rather than $140 or more), and I finally found organic cotton mattress pads online that cost less than the mattresses (I was on the point of despair and about ready to sew my own!) I was really annoyed, though, when they arrived in zippered vinyl bags.



Anyway, back to the beds...the boys were THRILLED! M was a bit nervous about sleeping up top the first night, but I encouraged him to try it, and I think he's liking having his own space now (if only we could figure out a way to keep the brothers off of it).

This is where they slept before--in a puppy pile on this queen-sized mattress on the floor:

There are two big drawers under the bed. One I filled with extra blankets and sheets; in the other I hope to consolidate the multitudinous bins of Lego's, but haven't quite gotten there yet.

In preparation for the changeover, I tried doing a major clean-out of their room. I filled one big fruit box with books (duplicates, outgrown and generally crappy), another partway with toys and I eliminated one HUGE box of stuffed animals. All of this is waiting in a teetery pile in the basement for my friend's yard sale in June. Still the room seems sooo messy and full of junk...much of it Lego's, but also a lot of other crap that really needs to be sorted and eliminated. It's a bit early for the switchover from winter to summer clothes, but I'm hoping when that happens it will also help.

Yesterday I went on a mad-woman spring-cleaning binge in the downstairs part of the house...it was a gloomy rainy day and my choices were to pull the covers over my head and wallow in despair or get moving. I mean serious cleaning--dusting, washing windows, taking down all of the kids' artwork that's been accumulating on the sun room windows (we had stuff dating back to Christmas), sorting through my own books to add to the yard sale pile, rearranging the sun room furniture, folding laundry and organizing the kids' art supplies (happily I ran out of time before I got to the bathroom). I still feel driven by this compulsion that if I could just get my house clean enough--and eliminate enough of the junk and clutter--then everything will be OK. I know I'm not alone in this feeling, since there is an entire magazine and television industry devoted to this concept (not to mention professional organizers and fung shui-ers)...but here's the question: has anyone ever gotten that organized and did it actually make them feel better?

What Ails Ya

This week's Earth Scouts adventure was a decidedly less resounding success than last week. Again we had three little boys who wanted to stay in their jammies and play Lego's all day. Combine that with a drizzly gray day. And a Mama who has been in supremely crabby mood for at least two weeks (please tell me it's just March in Maine...not ready for psychotropic drugs). And a firstborn child who could not decide WHAT TO WEAR...seriously. Because the chickadees were holding a fashion show out in the soggy field.


Once I browbeat everyone outdoors, I put on my Fake Excited and Cheerful Mama act, as we looked for Colors in Nature (let's see...grey, brown, grey and brown)...actually we ended up with a full rainbow (red dogwood branches and sumac berries; orange stick and rock; yellow grass; green spruce tree and tiny, tiny, tiny sprigs of grass; blue jay; oops, no purple; grey clouds, white snow; black rotten leaves)...but there was much complaining about being cold and wanting to go back...counting on this being a minor blip in the road and not a forecast of what's to come.


Later, after I had gotten to the point of, "If I hear the word, 'mama!' one more time I'm going to f*ing scream" for about the fiftieth time this weekend, I escaped, with a friend, through the pouring rain, to Portland, to see The Passion of the Hausfrau. Which you MUST go see if you're anywhere within driving range of Portland. I laughed. I cried. I laughed some more. Then we went out for Indian food. I felt much better for about three hours, then, reluctantly, dragged my heels home, again through the pouring rain, to a house that had been trashed and which sinking ship C abandoned first thing this morning for the next two days...glug, glug.

New GEMINI and Giveaway

Hot off the presses:



Issue #10: Mother, Nature.

I'm very excited about this issue; it's the first (and probably last) with a full-color cover, and the theme of writing about nature and motherhood is something I'm hoping to do more of.

Inside: Leapin' Salamanders, Camping w/ Kiddos, Climate Change Anxiety, Mother-Earthy Reads and More!

To celebrate, I want to give away a free issue to one lucky blog reader. Please leave a comment on this message between now and next Tuesday, March 31, 12:00 noon (EDT) for your chance to win. If you already have a subscription or are a regular trade, expect your copy soon. You can still leave a comment, and win a second copy for friend (or leave a comment and opt-out of the giveaway, if you'd like).

Here's the thing...I still haven't figured out how to send an email directly to a commenter, so you have to come back here next Wednesday to check and see if you're a winner.

Good luck!

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3/31/09--Comments closed. Come back tomorrow to see who the BIG winner is!

Signs of Spring

We had our first Earth Scouts adventure Sunday morning, and once I finally convinced three little boys who wanted to stay in their jammies and play Legos all day to get dressed, it went surprisingly well. They loved the vests and bags, and refused to put coats on over them, even though it was only 32.5 degrees out.



We went out looking for signs of spring. Here E and Z point out some green moss. That's not covered in snow. That counts.







We hiked our little trail and heard chickadees singing their "see-saw" song (yes I know it's called the "fee-bee" song, but it sounds like "see-saw" to me), and heard (and saw) a Canada goose fly overhead (definitely a sign of spring). M thought he heard an owl and E thought he heard a peacock (hmm).








We walked on crunchy snow (yes, that's spring-like). And saw that below the willow tree, the ice on the river is breaking up.




We found a big pile of feathers from a grouse that met its demise near the river's edge, and everyone was able to add a few to their foraging bags. At home we made a list of our spring sightings, looked up grouse in the bird book, to make sure that's what we saw (also verified by C who for more sinister reasons--i.e. dinner--has had occasion to be up close and personal with grouse feathers.

We also started some wheat grass seeds. I wanted to try to do it soil-less, so we're experimenting with our Bio-set seed sprouter. We'll see how it goes.



Another sign of spring is C's maple sugaring operation. Not one to do things by halves (note the twins), C is incapable of tapping a couple of trees for a couple of quarts of syrup...instead he's got probably 30 or more taps distributed through the neighborhood, and has been boiling three days each weekend. Not sure what we're up to on syrup, but I'd say it's nearing 20 gallons.




I'm not a huge fan of sugaring season, because it means C is unavailable for huge chunks of time, and a constant stream of people drop in for a visit. Which is wonderful, when it's my friends who I enjoy talking to and hanging out with, but when it's my in-laws making themselves permanent fixtures in my front yard, let's just say it's not so good for my tooth-grinding issues. It is better this year than two years ago, last time he sugared, because the twins are older and more independent, so I have to give them less constant attention, and worry less about them falling into the stove, even though Z thinks the only place to be is in the 20 inch space between the evaporator and the wood pile.



Saturday night, after I sat through the interminable town meeting (alone, because C was boiling...but no I'm not resentful!), we had a little Equinox blaze...an old Christmas wreath (from two or three years ago), welcoming spring!

I would say the boys got their four elements play in this weekend--Earth (mud, mud, and more mud...M rode his bike in it all Saturday and Sunday and looked like he was made of adobe by the end); Water (the melting river...although we didn't actually play IN it); Fire (flaming wreath; evaporator burning cords of wood); and Air (M flew a kite for 93 minutes Sunday...trying to go for the world record!).

Happy Spring!