Monthly Archives: May 2011
How to Have a Memorable Camping Trip
This past weekend, we decided to join some friends (and some of their friends, and some of their friends) on a big group camping trip. We picked a beautiful spot in the mountains – not a campground – and were looking forward to a weekend of family, friends, food, and re-connecting with nature. It was everything we’d hoped it be… and more. The following little primer is for those who’re interested in camping and want to learn how to do it McGrail style.
1. Pick the windiest weekend of the year.
2. Dress for the occasion.
3. Forget to turn your camera off after taking picture of your little nudist, ensuring that you arrive at your destination with a dead battery and can’t take any more pictures.
4. Choose a vehicle with low horse power and add more weight by pulling a trailer packed with camping gear. You’ll only be able to go 30 mph (in a 65 mph zone) up the winding mountain freeway, and you’ll have a line of no less than a dozen other holiday weekend adventure seekers queued up behind you.
5. Pick a location that has no cell service, leave your phone in the car all weekend, and relish in the break.
6. Enjoy watching your kids be kids… covered in dirt, playing in the woods, running around with new friends, and gathering kindling for the fire.
7. Make the most of using the forest as a bathroom by pretending you’re Bear Grylls or a contestant on Survivor instead of what you really are – a regular old person squatting behind a tree.
7. Pause every few minutes to appreciate the sounds of nature…. your crackling fire, the crickets, the wind in the trees, and the crunching of pine cones under your feet.
8. Take your family on what is described to you as a “short but steep” hike down in to a canyon. Don’t turn back when you realize that it’s both less short and more steep than you envisioned. Take a painstakingly long time getting your three year old down safely, while your older kids all blaze ahead with the rest of the people in your party. Admit it was absolutely worth the hike when you get to the cool water, and the beautiful view, at the bottom. Wish you had a camera.
9. Burst with pride for said three year old who climbs almost the entire way back up herself, with just a guiding hand behind her. And for your fourteen year old too, who made the hike just a few days after dislocating his shoulder, and never complained. Compare scrapes, bumps, and bruises when you get back to camp.
10. Park your car right next to your tent on the second night so that your husband can get up in the middle of the night and tie another anchor from the tent to the side view mirror to help prevent your humble little abode from blowing away during the gale-force winds.
11. Lay awake all night listening to the wind rip through the trees, your tent, and everything else in its path, and wonder if the next gust is going to be another one that bends the walls down onto your face.
12. Decide unanimously to cut the trip by an entire day, and try to ignore the fact that you’re really not feeling well, and have a two hour drive ahead of you.
13. Lose your transmission halfway home, and be very, very thankful that 1) you took a major highway home instead of the route you took on your way there, 2) that you had cell service to call AAA, and 3) that you were very close to your parents’ house (and that they were home and able to come rescue you)
14. Get back on the road a windy 60 minutes later… family, gear, and dog all split up between your parents’ two vehicles. Watch as the tow truck carrying your Land Cruiser weaves and blows all over the place in the wind on the highway, and envision your truck just falling off completely.
15. Admit to yourself that you caught a touch of the stomach bug from the person of questionable judgment very nice gentleman and his family who came camping with you even though he was sick, and will yourself to make it home as soon as possible.
16. Thoroughly enjoy a real bed, a real shower, and a real toilet when you get home. Try not to think about the pricey car repair. Or the unpacking. Or the washing of all the smoke-filled blankets and clothes.
17. Make plans to do it all over again as soon as possible.
Filed under adventures, camping
The Girl
I tell a lot of stories about my youngest, but you just can’t truly appreciate her unless you see her in action. Now, I know that kid videos are never as cute to anyone else as they are to the child’s parents, but if you need a quick break from life, take a look at this original Tegan song and dance. She was inspired by watching the American Idol finale, so we paused it to give her our full attention. She makes me smile, and last night I needed it.
You have to watch the whole thing though, because the very end is my favorite part. 
Plank Pullin’: The one where I don’t like Oprah
It’s Plank Pullin’ time! The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye. Matthew 7:3-5, style.
Yesterday, Oprah Winfrey aired her final show after 25 years on the air. I share that just in case you’ve, well, been living under a rock… or maybe heard the weeping in the streets and wondered what it was all about.
Yes, the era of Oprah is over. And I feel…. sad. Not because I’ll miss the show (I hardly ever watched it) and not because I was a fan of Oprah (I pretty much spent the past 25 years disliking her intensely) No, I’m sad because I’ve been doing the same thing to Oprah that so hurts me when it’s done to me: I was judging her without knowing her. I found her arrogant and self-serving, using her show as a platform for HER. Using her jillions of dollars to help other people, yes, but also to show the world how wonderful and giving SHE is.
And then this morning I watched her finale, for no other reason than to scoff and roll my eyes and be glad that it was all over. And I don’t know if it was because I went to bed – and subsequently woke up – feeling sad, or if it was because I’ve been humbled by my own “hate mail” I’ve received of late, but for what was literally the first time I felt like I truly “got” her. I realized that Oprah and I are not that different (billions of dollars and worldwide fame aside)
And the fact is,
I don’t know what kind of person she’s like behind closed doors.
I don’t know how much giving she does that she *doesn’t* share with her audience.
I don’t know what insecurities she has, or what she’s not proud of, or what kind of mistakes she’s made.
I’m not privy to her relationships with her friends, her family, and her loved ones.
I do know that she seems to genuinely want to help people, and is genuinely interested in living an authentic, meaningful life and paving the way for others to do the same. I do know that she seemed humbled, and grateful, and sincere as she thanked her viewers, her staff, and God.
And all that mushy-gushy rainbows and unicorn and lets-all-love-one-another stuff she was always talking about? I honestly want that, too. Her platform just happened to be a deeply loved, national talk show… and mine is a little blog. But we’re on the same side.
And so, Oprah, it’s taken me 25 years, but I am truly sorry for judging you. You have done a great thing with your show, and have touched many people. I am sure that outside of the lights and the cameras and the hoopla, that you are a beautiful person – inside and out – and one who is deeply loved by those who really know you.
Oh, and if you run into Dr Phil, tell him I’m working up to an apology for him too.
Filed under plank pullin'
They’re Just LAZY
Lazy: (adjective) averse or disinclined to work, activity, or exertion; indolent.
In the past couple of days, I have heard no less than half a dozen people use the word “lazy” in regards to their children, usually in the context of:
Oh my kids could never homeschool, they’re too lazy. Or, unschooling wouldn’t work for us, because my kids are too lazy. Or, I tried giving my kids more freedom, but they are just. too. lazy.
When I was in school, I was one of those students who did the absolute bare minimum I needed to do in order to maintain my honor roll GPA. I rarely did homework, crammed for tests the night before (or not at all) and essentially coasted through four years of high school. When I got home from school, I took a nap nearly daily. When I was done with my nap, I sat. When I was done sitting, I got a snack and I sat some more. Was I lazy? No, what I was was tired. I was mentally and physically spent from eight hours of tedious boredom, of being forced to sit through classes that did not interest me nor match my learning style.
A friend of mine, a very kind hearted and intelligent soul, had a terrible time in school. He was always failing one class or another, believed himself to be stupid, and had parents who continually chided him for being LAZY. “I know you could do better in school, if only you weren’t so lazy.” He wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t lazy. He simply wasn’t in the right learning environment for his needs. Today, this friend works 50+ hours in an upper-management position, and takes exquisitely good care of his house, his wife and his three young children. Does that sound like someone who is lazy?
Calling a child – any child – who is in traditional school lazy is categorically unfair. Maybe the child is bored. Maybe the child is unchallenged. Maybe the child is interested in something else. Maybe the child learns best in a different fashion than the “norm.” Maybe the child is simply a round peg trying to fit into a square hole, and maybe the child is flat-out exhausted from any or all of the above.
As for children who are unschooled? Equally unfair, for a multitude of reasons. When given the freedom to live and learn, all of us… children and adults alike… will vacillate between periods of work, and periods of play. Times for physical activity, and times for quiet reflection. Moments of labor, and moments of rest. These activities may lead from one to another in the course of a day, or a week, or a month, as a person’s needs and seasons change.
Not fitting into someone else’s current idea of “productive” is not laziness.
We can’t open people up and see what’s going on inside of them. Those quiet moments, those “lazy” moments, may very well be huge times of growth and learning for the individual going through them… whether that person is watching TV, playing a computer game, reading a book, or sitting in a chair and staring at a wall. When my children are choosing to engage in a period of “downtime,” no matter how long it may last, I don’t deem them lazy any more than I deem myself lazy if I spend an hour catching up on Facebook, or watch The Biggest Loser instead of cleaning the kitchen counters, or get so involved with other projects that I let the laundry sit in the dryer (or sometimes the washer) for three days straight.
I don’t doubt for a second that when a person is truly given the freedom to choose that 1) a period of what may look like laziness is in fact a normal, and healthy!, part of the learning experience, and 2) that it will be followed by an equally normal and healthy period of what society deems as productive work… whether it’s physical labor, problem solving, reading, writing, researching, or creating.
Unschoolers work hard and play hard. They recognize that learning and living are not two separate things, and that there is knowledge to be gained from all situations (even the ones that may look to an outsider like they are doing “nothing.”) And at the end of the day, being able to embrace that realization is very much the opposite of laziness.
Filed under unschooling
The (Wo)man in the Mirror
I’m starting with the man in the mirror
I’m asking him to change his ways
And no message could have been any clearer
If you want to make the world a better place
Take a look at yourself and make a change. ~Michael Jackson
I like to be able to fix things. I think most of us, especially as parents, just want to be able to fix anything that may be amiss. I feel fortunate right now in that my own life, and family, is currently in its groove (and that of course, is not always the case) But as I look around me – at the friend that’s going through a difficult time with a child, another with a spouse, countless more with their families, their jobs, their lives – that instinct is still there, even from the outside: Okay, how do I fix this? What can I do?
And the answer, of course, is that I can’t fix everything. And more often than not, there is nothing that really can be done, at least not externally.
I can’t change other people. Not my husband, not my kids, not my friends, not the people I meet on the street. But I can change myself.
I can’t change what others say, how they feel, or what they do. But I can decide how I respond. I can choose how it does or does not affect me.
I can’t change the fact that sometimes there will be bad days, and that sometimes there will be very bad days. But I can control how I handle it. I can control whether it breaks me or makes me stronger.
I can’t change all the injustices in the world. I can’t change the hate, the prejudice, the mean people. But I can change my heart. I can examine my attitudes. I can choose how I treat others. I can choose to be kind, to be loving, to be generous.
I can’t change the necessity of things like laundry, or dishes, or car repairs. But I can change the spirit with which I deal with them. I can choose to do them joyfully, or begrudgingly.
I can’t change the bumps, the growing pains, or the inevitable detours that come my or my family’s way. But I can take responsibility for my feelings, for my actions, for my words. I can decide that instead of blaming everything and everyone around me, I can practice grace, humility, and patience. I can decide to be thankful, even in the midst of chaos, and I can decide to accept what is…. to have “the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
Inspired Occasions Giveaway WINNERS
Thanks to all who participated in the Inspired Occasions Giveaway, and a special thanks to Bonnie for donating her time and talents!
The winning comment of the local, one dozen cupcakes is:
Brandie · 5 days ago
I’d love to enter both!! Beautiful work
And the winner of the dozen cupcake toppers is:
Jenny · 5 days ago
She really is amazing and talented women. I would enter both but I live in NH. Cupcakes always cheer me up.
Congratulations Brandie and Jenny! Send me a message with your contact info so you and Bonnie can start planning what you’d like.
Thanks all, for another awesome giveaway! I’d love to start doing one every month, so if you have a mom (or dad!) owned business, and would like to talk about the possibility of a giveaway, I would love to hear from you.
Filed under giveaways
The Story of a Cupcake
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| This is the pretty cupcake picture I shared on Facebook |
We wanted to bake yesterday. We found a yummy-sounding recipe we hadn’t tried before, and Everett, Tegan and I went to the store to pick up a couple of things we were missing. We made the cupcakes, and they cooled while the kids rode around outside on their scooters. We had a nice dinner, frosted the cupcakes, and snapped the above picture just before we dug in.
About four and a half minutes later, I followed up with this shot, taken seconds after Spencer dropped the cupcake carrier out of the fridge (although in his defense, Everett hadn’t put the top on properly)
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| This is the picture I didn’t share |
And that’s the reason I don’t cry over spilled milk. It just. happens. too. often. Life is messy. But the cupcakes were still good. And the dog thoroughly enjoyed licking the floor afterwards.
The end.
Plank Pullin’: Cuz everything little thing’s gonna be alright
It’s Plank Pullin’ time! The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye. Matthew 7:3-5, style.
Two of my four kids have a tendency to worry. They get caught up in “what ifs”, stress out about what’s coming the next day, and sometimes forget to live in – and enjoy – the moment. I often find myself reassuring them… reminding them to take each day as it comes, to not worry, to let each moment take care of itself, to just breathe, to know in their hearts that everything really IS going to be all right.
And dangit, I’m good at it. I am. I’m honest. I’m convincing. I’m reassuring. It’s all I can do to keep from patting myself on the back as they tell me, “Thanks Mommy, I feel better now,” and happily go off to play.
But alas, it’s nothing more than a sparkling example of my own hypocrisy, because I am a huge worrier. I hate that I am, and I so very badly wish that I wasn’t… but there it is. And the worst part is not the fact that I have the tendency to worry – which, honestly, is bad enough in and of itself – but the fact that I worry over such undeniably stupid things. It’s not like worrying about, say, walking down a dark deserted alley alone at night. That would be productive worry that might make one think twice about a possibly dangerous decision.
No, I worry about very important things like not having time to get the house cleaned before we have somebody over.
Last Saturday we had a busy day at the end of what was a very stressful (and as a result, a very unproductive) week. We were out all day off-roading, came home very briefly around dinner time, and then went to a friends house to swim and hang out for the rest of the evening. It was a great day, and a fun diversion, but that night I came home exhausted and stressed out. I had to babysit the following morning, and the house was a disaster (and not at all safe for a crawling baby) We also had someone coming to meet us and talk with us about caring for our chickens while we’re away this summer. Meeting new people in general tends to stress me out anyway, and coupled with the neglected house and babysitting as well, I was nearly rife with anxiety.
My husband, who never fails to be the voice of reason, basically said “Relax please. It’ll all be fine.”
And it was. We got the house picked up just fine the following morning. It was not perfect, but neither the chicken sitter nor my ten month old cousin pointed out our flaws. The day unfolded without a hitch, and I realized – as I often realize – that I’d stressed out for nothing. I actually wasted entire minutes of my life worrying about… what, exactly? My house being too dirty? What on earth is wrong with me?
It’s hard not to stress out and worry when I’m not sleeping, and this particular bout of insomnia has been a long one. It’s a vicious circle too, because the more I stress the less I sleep… and the less I sleep the more I stress. And the solution is, of course, exactly the same one I so easily dole out to the kids:
Breathe. Relax. Appreciate the moment. Let tomorrow take care of itself. It’s all going to work out.
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?”
Matthew 6:25-27
Filed under about me, kids, plank pullin'
Things That Make Me Go Hmm
The news stories that have been popping up on the internet lately have been coming from a veritable pool of craziness. Just when I think our world can’t get any more absurd, I read things like this that prove me wrong.
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| Isn’t this offensive? Shield your kids! |
Really?
This is not even about extended nursing (or as I like to call it, “regular length” nursing) In fact, I’d love for it be a non-issue altogether. This is just how we were designed. No matter how you personally feel about it, nursing a two year old is normal. The worldwide weaning average is still 4 years, so in many houses, nursing a five or six year old is normal too.
This is about an utterly ridiculous, and illogical, law whose goal it is to exert more control over the masses. It’s not about nudity (as it claims) because if it were, short shorts would have to be outlawed too. They show far more skin than a breastfeeding mother. Tube tops, tank tops, anything cleavage-baring: a million times more revealing than a nursing mom.
Heck, let’s pass laws about flip-flops and hem lines and sheer fabrics.
Is it about someone feeding or comforting their child? Maybe the-powers-that-be feel that becomes inappropriate once the child is two? Then outlaw pacifiers in public too. Outlaw sippy cups. Outlaw those little round snack containers packed with Cheerios. You probably ought to outlaw hugs too, and holding your child all together, lest anyone get the wrong idea. And for pete’s sake, have your child’s birth certificate readily available, because they reserve the right to verify their age at any time.
Such a bold and productive new step for our country. Way to go, Georgia.
Filed under attachment parenting, breastfeeding, freedom, rant
Food: Balance, Choice & Freedom
A few things you will never hear in this house:
No dessert until you finish your vegetables.
Just a few more bites.
You’ll sit at the table until dinner time is over.
No, you can’t have that.
Things you very well might hear in this house:
Can we make cookies for breakfast? (Sure)
Can I finish this whipped cream? (Why not)
Can I have some beans for a snack (Of course)
Aw man, who ate all the asparagus? (It was me)
We talk a lot about food around here.. partly because I’ve studied it for most of my adult life, and just can’t help it; and partly because it’s fun! Shopping for it, growing it, experimenting with it, making it, eating it. I’m very much of the opinion that if nothing else, food is to be enjoyed.
We’ve never battled over mealtimes, and never limited what our kids could or could not eat. They are the only ones who know when they are hungry and full, and they should be the ones who make the decisions about what goes into their bodies. It makes me sad to see families continually fighting their kids over food, and turning something that’s supposed to be pleasurable into a power struggle between all involved.
I want to tell people to relax. To take a big deep breath and a giant step back. Battling, cajoling, and bribing with food is not only not a great thing for your relationship, but also completely counterproductive. I don’t know anyone who learned to have a healthy relationship with food through force, but I do know a lot of people who have unhealthy relationships with food due to force (and who ended up resenting their parents to boot)
I’ve read a lot of philosophies regarding food, particularly among unschoolers, that state that food isn’t good or bad; it just IS. I completely agree with that on general principle (and yes, absolutely: Hate and war are bad, but a cookie is just a cookie) But it’s a simple fact of science that different foods do different things in our bodies… some negative, some positive. Certain foods make us feel better than others. Most adults have realized this – whether they pay attention to it or not – and children realize it too when they’re given the freedom to do so.
Our refrigerator and cupboards are stocked with real, whole foods, and the kids are free to eat (or not eat) any of it at any time. They’re also free to request cookies, ice cream, candy, or any other “extras” any time someone’s going to the store. They all like to bring their own money for treats at the dollar store, they like helping me bake, and it’s definitely not uncommon for them to flag down the ice cream truck. They’ve inherited their mother’s sweet tooth to be sure, as well as their father’s love of burgers and hot dogs.
But their day to day chosen diet? They snack on fruit, nuts, raw vegetables, and yogurt. They eat whole grains, lots of greens, and a variety of proteins. When I go out to the store I always ask them if they’d like anything special, and two of the four usually have no request at all. Spencer always makes sure we don’t forget orange juice, and Everett usually has a certain fruit in mind. They eat, and enjoy, food, of all types and all varieties. And if we happen to have cookies and they want cookies before dinner? They have them. If they want cookies FOR dinner? They have them (and will most likely follow up with a “traditional” dinner sometime before bed.) They trust their brains, and their bodies, to know what they need… and they are healthy, happy, and strong.
When I started writing this post several hours ago, the kids were laughing as they finished off the last drop of whipped cream we’d bought a few weeks ago when we’d made fancy drinks in the blender. Right now, two of the boys are eating oranges. And about thirty seconds ago, Tegan came up to me, eyes wide, cradling something in her hands.
“Mommy. Can I have this??”
I had to look twice to see what it was. “Sure, if you want to.”
Her chosen snack? A huge ripe tomato. And she happily sat down and ate the entire thing.
Filed under control, food, unschooling
