Hand wash cold

I've tried hard to find pleasure in the daily tasks of keeping a home. I've read Karen Maezen Miller 'Hand wash cold' in the hope that this would inspire me somehow. I signed up to the Flylady daily blinks which have tips for keeping on top of your house. I did the Goddess Haven E-course on the Goddess Circle & had a nice corner in a room for a short while that I could focus on and enjoy (it didn't last long sadly).
Still not there though.
I quite enjoy it when it's not essential, when I'm doing it because I have time and I want to. Such as hanging out the washing. I've loved that since I first started doing my own washing. Early in the morning before there is anyone else around I have a quiet, peaceful five minutes where I contemplate nothing but the folds in the sheets and the positioning of the pegs on the line. This little job brings about exactly the mood and tranquil, accepting state Karen describes. From my poorly designed little old terrace the washing blowing in the breeze is one of the few things to glimpse in the garden whilst sat inside. Not satisfied with enjoying hanging it out often I then watch it as it sways and ripples in the sun and constant gentle fen winds. Now I just need to find a way of the hoovering, washing up, cleaning of tables and scrubbing of sinks to bring about the same peaceful, zen like state.
I've kind of accepted that I won't get that vibe going though until the children are older. When the tasks seem a little less on a loop, when the sheer mess made by their existence just pauses for breath occasionally! We're still at the phase where by the time I've wiped a worktop there's a spillage on a floor to mop. I know older children hold their own on the adding to mess front but surely it's not quite the same porridge on a chair cushion, crayon on a mirror and toilet roll shredded around the house? Please tell me that's not forever?

Still. I try not to moan and do my best at looking dutiful and neutral as I go. Hopefully the children will accept it all as part of being part of our household and like me, mutter under their breath as they scrub 'think zen think zen'.

Crafting with kids - the reality

I've read blog posts, liked images on Instagram and admired art on friends walls..all creations lovingly made together with their children.
I think it's amazing and am quite envious of this. Being talentless in this field myself and not heavily blessed with patience doesn't make for many canvas's hanging on my walls. Still. I have always wanted to provide my children with the opportunities I lacked. Apart from limited exposure at school, sessions I always enjoyed but that were always too short, too rare and too limited, I didn't really get the chance to explore creating.
One of the difficult realities I've had to face up to though is that it's not ever going to be a happy crafting together kinda home here. I don't know if its my own attitude or the three different personalities - I think it's more likely just that its not as easy as all that for anyone. That the end product is shown but that maybe the tears, the argument about the red pen and the sheer mess vs the fun had been omitted from the story.
Well. Just to set the record straight, to add some balance to the blogging crafty family world out there and to reassure those of you who like me...am left wondering if its just my family that can't craft and create peacefully here's a quick example of a recent endeavour the dude enjoyed with the kids one sunny afternoon under the shade of our horse chestnut tree last week.

Needless to say it didn't end well.

How do you want to be remembered?

A friend linked to this blog post the other day from Hands Free Mama, along with the comment that it was 'thought provoking'. I agree it really was. Along with also being very true, very real and very honest. It was uncomfortable in places and encouraging in others. I liked it.
It reminded me of my own pledge a year ago for my children not to remember the top of my head and the tap of my fingers as a lasting memory of their mother. Of my own inward struggle to manage my temper and demonstrate to my little mirror and firebox how to cope with situations without erupting and how to channel the flow when there is no other choice. Also of the ongoing reality of being a mother to my children, my business and myself. Letting myself also be nurtured and loved, giving myself opportunity to grow.
So yes dear friend it was thought provoking. I've come further than I ever realised but am still finding opportunities each day to learn from my less fine moments. But of all else it made me think about what my children will think.
What do you most want your children to remember you as? Loving? Kind? Gentle? Consistent? Fun? Happy? Brave?
I know my fathers generation of parents had a whole different expectation and not forgetting also a reality darkened by wartime pain and memories. My dad would have probably described his mum as a fighter. She was the fantastic tiny little hard as nails northern nanna. If I'd have grown up with her as my mother I wouldn't have pissed her off let's just say! Yet despite never remembering once any loving words from her lips, or even a moment of physical affection when hurt or scared I know so deeply she loved me fiercely. She would do anything for me, for us. As a child I knew it and it still resonates through me now when I think of her.

                            The lovely Edith Mary (second from left) with my grandad, John (first left)


Perhaps being amazing for our children isn't as hard as all the books and blogs make out. Perhaps we just need to really really love our children. Maybe as wild as it seems that is enough.

Steiner, Star Wars and Unschooling.

We love Star Wars in our house.

The grown ups have always loved it. Since The Dude and I met, we've often spent an afternoon watching either A New Hope or Empire Strikes Back, depending on who got to choose. When I was a child I used to watch it in the early mornings when I woke and had the run of the downstairs to entertain myself til everyone was up. Since then I'd say I've probably watched it at least an average of once every other month of my life. It never bores me. I still praise my favourite ever scene of every movie ever made each time it's on ( the scene with Darth Vader, Grand Moff Tarkin and the Death Star dude whose lack of faith Darth Vader finds disturbing!).
As you can imagine we have a fair bit of Star Wars merch kicking around the house. Newt had often mentioned watching it but accepted she was too young, happy enough to wait. Then the Dudes parents cleared out their loft. Suddenly box loads of figures and replica space craft from a 70's childhood arrived. That was it. Newt was hooked. We agreed in the end to watching it together with her understanding some of the bits we may have to skip through.
When we all sat down for that landmark first viewing the Mancub was asleep. But as soon as that opening music began he woke up, his eyes glued to the screen, and that was it - he was rooted to the spot. Barely blinking, rarely moving. He loved it. The space ships, the robots all of it.
That was three months ago.
I have to admit, even as a hardened fan this is not what I had in mind for my near three year old boy. Though we don't regulate or put pressure on our children's screen time I had not planned on them regularly watching Star Wars at this age, if at all really. Lets just say its not very Steiner.
But the Unschooling souls in us has found a way to help it enrich our life together. For one we all share it. Unlike some dreadful Disney that we can't bear to watch we all enjoy watching this together, even now on its hundredth millionth viewing.
I quite like the role model of Princess Leia over The Disney Princesses. Yes she is rescued but she also leads the rebel alliance and is generally pretty god damn cool (though we don't talk about the Return of the Jedi Leia much...a little less tough and a bit more needy as each film goes on!).
One afternoon last month Newt disappeared upstairs on her own for half an hour and when she came back she had copied out her favourite characters into her art book. All by herself. Using her lovely Stockmar beeswax crayons of course.

(Here's R2-D2 and Darth Maul)

For the Mancub it's the ships. He loves them. His interest in planes and rockets has been boosted beyond what we ever thought possible for an under three. Everything flies. His first words muttered under his breath whilst his eyes are still closed but his mind awake are 3,2,1 boom. This is no cartoon or fake image of space ships. They are to him real space fighters, zooming around asteroids and moons (no wait, 'that's no moon'!).

This is Darth Vader (well a Tapir dressed up as Darth Vader) - Newt's favourite character

We've also found it has served as an amazing way to introduce so many concepts and information about the world. Desert, space, swamps, tundra. Personalities, agendas and attitudes. It's a surprise how much of life's teachings can be brought into your home through a set of classic old movies. The Jedi lessons are as valid to children (and grown ups) as they are to young Luke.

So to end my ramble about making the most of every opportunity and sharing passions here's a classic Yoda quote.

Enjoying our time together

About three months into this pregnancy I had a wobbly week or two.
My youngest, the mancub, was still so much my baby. Was it unfair of me to not start 'preparing' him somehow? Should I be easing him 'off me' if there was such a thing? We sleep snuggled up, he fed from me still and whilst newt goes off and has days out, and even weekends away with family he stays firmly here with me. Not because he wants to necessarily but just because he's the little one & it's easier for him to be with me.
As his daytime naps became more sporadic the daytime feeds slipped off completely. Before long it was only a bit of bedtime and breakfast booby...as much about getting him to sleep and letting me have a bit longer in the morning - not essential but just what was wanted and worked for us both. All of a sudden there was a week where he fell asleep every night without asking for boob. A week later I tried offering him a drink and a snack at 5am (his usual wake up time) and that's where we stayed. Thanks to my irritation at the continuous crumbs in the bed (argh pet hate alert) the snacking in bed faded out too now. We just have a drink, a cuddle and get up. Booby has finished though he occasionally still asks when he wakes. But for now the night long snuggles haven't.
I decided instead of preparing him for having me less I'd make sure that these final few months he has me as much as he can. I'm his.
On the days when Newt is out and about with others I've made a special effort to enjoy each other. Instead of using it as a chance to catch up on work I've used it as time to be together.
We've explored the riverbank. Played cars and read stories (....well the same story..over and over!).

Preparing him through attachment, through love and connection feels so much more right. I've been woken by kisses and strokes instead of demands. He runs to get his sandals when Newt leaves for her grandmas instead of crying at the door, knowing we will go somewhere together soon.

 

There is plenty of time for him to not need me. I'm just going to savour this time that he does.

Creative, artistic or just messy?

My daughter Newt is seriously unique. One of our good friends always says to her 'you have your own style'! And other friends all love her special way with words, clothes and imagination. Being talentless in the artistic department myself I love seeing her be such a creative sole from the outset. It's just her. She's not perfect at art, or crafts or writing etc. but her very being is art. I've had a few people aliken her to Tracey Emnin. Although I'm not quite sure how comfortable with that comparison I am I still totally get what they mean. My mum says she's a Helena (Bonam Carter) with her wild hair, individual style and animated dramatic storytelling! Unrestrained she's sensual in her discovery of the textures and tastes of the world..at five years old exploring surfaces by licking them (yes, I know, this can be a bit gross!), or touching and feeling everything is her way of discovering an objects mass and her relation to it.

But the big thing about living with a young life artist is....the mess. There has never been a boundary for the creation, our walls have been treated as canvas's, her body decorated with ink and paint, her dinner plate emptied and the contents rearranged in a pattern. There's no staying in the lines...what lines?

We've accepted her way. We don't hassle or get on her case. There's the occasional push and pull as we balance needs between her need to just empty an entire drawer to get a pair of socks, and my need to not be putting all her clothes away a few times a day! But aside from that we've tried not to suppress or restrain her urges. Perhaps without the need to rebel and break out of herself will they just fade away? Or will she just grow up satisfied and herself? I'm going to savour my Front row seat in watching and finding out and maintain my private promise I've made to always protect her from those who want to whitewash, or contain her. I get the feeling though she won't need me to do this for long though...

The one where she cancels everything

I know Friends is naff. I never wanted to like it but after an accidental viewing way back in series one I actually cried laughing and fell in love with its horrible fake thin view of the world and their summary of six character types existing in it. I see it as quite strong minded of me actually to openly admit I like it and find it funny as its just not the cool thing to do!
Anyway. For those of you who share my shameless love of the sitcom you will get why I named this week to myself 'the one where Shona cancels everything'.
After realising and accepting that the Mancub is poorly, that I am subsequently exhausted and that it would be next to worthless to try and continue as planned this week I cancelled all my Appointments, my visits and meet ups. It was powerful to let go like this. To let go of what I should do. To let go of the notion I was letting anyone down. And to commit entirely rather than just verbally to being here for my son when he needed me not just physically but emotionally.
Not everyone understood. The dentist receptionist was unconvinced and a little uppity about my rescheduling, one of the people I was scheduled to meet didn't even reply to my message to acknowledge its receipt. But the majority, some in a much suckier position than me, just wholly agreed and wished me best. Even the professional bod awaiting a response from me found the time to send me get well soon thoughts and festive wishes.
Maybe I could do this more. Not in a let people down don't turn up at last minute way but in a nope I can't do that so I'm not going to kind of way.
This year was the year I began learning how to let go. It's taken a year to get this far and I can see there is still so much yet to learn too. I can see how much lighter I will feel when I have actually released all of these expectations and obligations. When I was a teenager I pretty much never did anything I didn't want to. Not in an intentionally selfish way just in a breathing in and out what feel right now way. I always felt quite true to myself and had that beautiful quality of zero care for others thoughts of me. I never expect to regress to tho sweetly naive state again, realistically not would I want to really either but I would like to have that sense of lightness and realness to my life and person again. It's like waving to a familiar but forgotten friend.
New year resolution one - get to know her again, she was fun!