Turning 8!

Music, a puppy, Greek food, a new bike, a family who adores her, friends, crafts, pizza, ice cream sundaes, movies, nail polish and a tag along little sister. What more could an 8 year old want?

Birthday Suit

Here's my little baby Camille on her first birthday. I've taken her picture every year in this old dress of mine. I wore it to a company Christmas party that I attended with Marc before we were married.

She's so soft and round. And look at those little toes!

Time flies. She turned eight yesterday and she's still soft but not so round anymore.

Good Vibrations 2009

September was a big month and now that it's over I suppose I could mention the big event: the Good Vibrations Unschooling Conference.

Organizing this conference, no, having the idea through executing every aspect of this conference, has had a profound personal effect. I'm still not completely able to articulate what the conference has meant and how my life has changed and will continue to evolve. Will I organize another one? It's still anyone's guess. For now I've been enjoying my kids again, playing, shopping and reading with them. I've been putting energy into reconnecting as a family, both parents and both kids in the same place at the same time. Apple picking, game playing, movie watching, swimming, just being together. I've begun projects that have been waiting. It's been a while since I've not been distracted and overwhelmed with details, lists, vendors and concerns. I'm sleeping better without waking up with fear of forgetting something or making decisions that displeased others. It's been a few weeks of healing, processing and trying not to think too hard. A few weeks of breathing and living.

So, a lot of work? Yeah. A lot of fun? Hell, yeah!

A flurry of people and activity for five days, from the beach to the hotel to the park. Presentations, funshops, chats, surfing, kids, laughter. The attendees better describe the experience so I've linked a few of their blog posts here so you can read all about it:
Tara: Home from Good Vibrations Conference and More From GVC
Stephanie: Good Vibrations Unschooling Conference
Sandra Dodd: Good Vibrations Conference and a collection of links to others places, photos and video
Holly Dodd: First Good Vibrations Conference
Jones Family: Good Vibrations 2009
Ronnie: Good Vibrations 2009 and Good Vibrations 2009 Part 2
Mandy: I'm Picking Up Good Vibrations
Bennett family: CA Adventure (scroll down to Sept 10)
Larry Devich: Good Vibrations

For photos, check out these links:
Stephanie
Dan Vilter
James Coburn
Brandi Jones

Lots of people have added their photos to the group's Flickr pool: http://www.flickr.com/groups/1205295@N20/

You may have heard about The Greybeards, a group of unschooling dads and one teenaged drummer who banded together to play for us at the Sunday night dance. They were unbelievably fantastic! They played for two hours and brought down the house- so much fun! The videos of them playing their rock n roll covers is here on YouTube.

The audio of the main presentations is not yet available. I'm working on editing the files and getting them ready for downloading. Two of the speakers have published their talks on their blogs, if you'd like to read what they had to say:

Jeff Sabo: In Pursuit of a Passionate Life
Miranda Demarest: Radical Thoughts for Radical Unschoolers

If I've missed anyone's photos, videos or blog posts, please let me know and I will add them here. It would be fun to have a big collection!

THANK YOU to everyone who attended the conference and made it the wonderful, happy event that it was. You all truly gave me something of which to remember with joy, love and hope. It was an absolute pleasure to meet nearly 130 families from 6 countries and I'm all filled up with goodness!

If I Let

Yesterday while waiting for the girls to wake up, I laid in bed reading a brand new book, Sandra Dodd's Big Book of Unschooling. Run, don't walk to her website and get one for yourself- you will not regret it.

One of the pages I read is titled "If I let him..." and it induced a lot of head-shaking at the beliefs some parents hold. One example from the book that a real parent actually wrote: if there is junk in the house my 3 yo will eat that and nothing else if I let him.

So I sighed at those statements and thought about The Work of Byron Katie. I'm not a devotee but I understand one of the questions she recommends we ask ourselves of a belief is Is it really true? Really? Will a kid really eat nothing but junk? Really? It's hard for me to believe because my kids have unrestricted access to food and it's not happened once. Not once. Common sense makes that statement not really true at all; my experience lends the evidence.

As an example, this is how our day, a fairly typical one (as far as an unschooling home can be typical), naturally unfolded:

I read Sandra's book, Camille and Juliet woke up, we giggled in bed then we headed downstairs. They watched TV while I puttered around the kitchen. Juliet asked for ice cream, something that's always available for her. As I was getting it out of the freezer she asked (for the first time ever) to eat it straight out of the 1.75 qt box. I grabbed a spoon and put the container which was very nearly full in front of her on the floor near the TV. After some time, maybe 30-45 minutes, she had eaten one bite and the ice cream was melting.

Me: I notice the ice cream is melting and I think it's a good idea to put it back in the freezer. Are you finished?

Juliet: No, I'll still want to eat some just now right now.

Me: Do you want me to put some in a bowl for you? If it melts before you eat it I'll get you some more.

Juliet: Okay.

So that's what I did. An hour later, she'd eaten only one, maybe two more spoonfuls and the rest was melted. She told me she didn't want anymore. Practically an entire carton of ice cream was given to her and she ate three bites.

An hour later she asked for a cucumber. I went outside to grab one from the garden and she and Camille followed me and jumped on the trampoline. I did some laundry and when I came out they had set up the trampoline with blankets, stuffed animals and toys. A picnic! I gathered some food and joined them. When I brought out a salad we had this exchange:

Juliet: Is that just for you?

Me: No, it's for all of us.

Juliet: Yay! Yay! Yay!

She ate grapes, cucumbers, peas, shredded carrots, whole grain croutons, raisins and a bit of cheese. Juliet discovered that she could bite patterns into the edge of the cucumber slices to make them look like the pretty ones at the grocery store salad bar and that she prefers her croutons a little on the soggy side. Camille noticed the raspberries were a bit squishy and I noted they'd be perfect in a raspberry vinigrette. She dashed inside to whip up her version: tomatoes, raspberries and olive oil. She cut up carrots to dip and it was delicious!

The afternoon consisted of more trampoline jumping while I sprayed them with the hose, art involving the copier and picture frames. We went to Camille's two back-to-back dance classes and were invited to dinner with a friend afterwards. There was a big bowl of mints on the restaurant's front counter and Juliet grabbed one when we walked in. She sucked on it while waiting for her pizza. She tried a ball of pizza dough drizzled in olive oil and garlic that she thought she might not like. She did like it, though, eating it all. Camille ate her Hawaiian pizza and some zucchini from our friend's pizza. Juliet mentioned that her favorite foods were watermelon without seeds, grapes and cucumbers. They opted to not bring their half-full cups of lemonade with them. They both grabbed a few more mints leaving the restaurant which they saved for later after giving one piece away. All of the kids played around the fountain and ran from one end of the shopping center to the other en route to our cars, twirling around every lampost.

We got home just in time for Hell's Kitchen, one of our favorite shows we never miss and swirled around food for two more hours. How it's prepared, what the ingredients are, what the dishes might taste like, how long it takes to cook, how could both chefs mess up the halibut? Marc had made dinner for himself since we were out and Juliet decided she wanted some of the capellini and peas but not the tilapia. Camille was full and declined more food. I ate Juliet's leftover pizza and we shared the last dough ball. It was good.

My If I Let statement would go something like this:

If I let my kid have an entire carton of ice cream, she would eat a little and spend the rest of the day eating a wide variety of nutritious foods. She would try new foods, get some exercise and stop eating when she's had enough.

That belief is really true. I have lots of days like today as evidence.

Year 4

I'm sleeping through the night for the first time in eight years. I can wear dresses and tucked-in shirts again. I can take a shower uninterrupted and without rushing. The laundry basket no longer holds diapers and its clothes aren't being outgrown quite so quickly. I've lost track of the sling, the baby bathtub now cleanses a doll, miniature spoons dig for roly-polies and the carseat has been cast aside in favor of a booster. Child-care books and watchfulness for milestones are forgotten. My two hands are almost always free, but never idle. Inability to communicate has been replaced by purrs of "mi corazon."

My baby is four and I'll never be the same.

I find myself lately wanting to tell parents to enjoy their little ones because they grow up so fast. And I mean it.

They spit up and they cried. I nursed until I was sure I would lose two prized bodily possessions and my eyes refused to stay open at ten a.m. My hair never saw a brush and bathroom privacy became an oxymoron. Pureed carrots were smeared and toys conquered the bathtub, not that I soaked in it alone anyway. It was hard to understand the message. I wanted to change my name to anything else. My back ached and I was touched out. My hair hurt when it was pulled and diapers really smell. The bag always had to be packed for every contingency and I got tired of singing Mary Had a Little Lamb for the 123,456,789th time to soothe a screamer in the backseat.

I miss sitting on the floor. Having no expectation of getting anything done and being able to completely focus in that moment. Swallowing the gaze of two humongous blue wells of trust, curiosity and love. Caressing the softest hands and hair I've ever felt, being in awe every time of its freshness and virginity. Hearing genuine laughter of surprise and wonder and the sincere, breathy attempts to join the dance of language. I remember washing soft little cheeks with warm cloths and clearing goop from eyes with damp cotton balls. I miss the dead weight of saggy skin, floppy muscles and bodies that are mostly head. I felt my power diminish as the ability to lactate slipped away and I so often wish I could still make it all better with a quick nurse. I hear cries of Mama! less and never in the darkness of night. I'm not the only hero anymore; Dad has proven himself up to the task and even more competent than Mom in some adventures.

The whole world used to be mine. Now I have to let in their dad, grandparents, aunts, uncles and more friends than I ever had. There once was nothing I couldn't make better with a kiss, a snuggle, a book. Now there are big disappointments and confusion that I can't nurse away. A few years ago it was all about me. Today I must negotiate the world outside my walls as my girls run free and find their stride beyond clutching my fingers with their chubby little hands. They're grown up some and I have to let go lots. As much as I enjoyed their baby and toddlerhoods, I equally wanted it to be easier, wanted my hands free, wanted to sleep, wanted my body back. I wished it away and the swiftness with which it happened is stunning. My children belong to me less with each passing day.

The joy that I now find originates from such a different place. There is satisfaction in seeing what I so freely gave move through my descendants. I watch my daughters grab their days and claim them as moments of right now to be enjoyed. One is patient while one is steadfast. One will do anything to please those she loves while the other strives for her goal and then shares her excitement wholeheartedly. Daily I am witness to gratitude, confidence, contentment, sharing, kindness, trust, tenderness, assistance and caring. There are hugs and kisses but not nearly as many as when I had to hold them. To say Camille and Juliet have become independent doesn't convey the completeness of this transformation. They've never been bound so there was nothing to escape. I haven't pushed nor have they pulled. It's an unfolding into a larger version of who they've always been with more abilities and reasonable thought. I am of less consequence but not inconsequential. The form my love takes shifts shape yet serves the same purpose- to create a a place for security, self-awareness and life.

I know that I will not always be in their physical realm. But the love that I have for my children will serve them all the days of their lives. What I have begun will evolve as touchstones, traditions, mantras, memories. No matter how big they get, my arms will still encircle, my mind search for possibility, my heart burst with shared joy. It turns out that it's really all about us and the inimitable gateway of love between a mother and her child. And no matter how much I enjoy my freedom, I will never wish these days of dependents away.

I can't go back and make up for time lost to the wind but I can appreciate this day with the same breathless wonder I once did. Each day holds the possibility to breathe hair, hold hands and sing, if only while they sleep; a beginning, a middle or an end. It's easy to mourn the passing of the sweet, cute years as I bump into the loveliness of children with whom I can converse and joke, debate and learn. This time is short so I'm appreciating the struggle as well as the ease, the fun as well as the parts which tire me. I say yes whenever I can and breathe to be my child's mother. Parenting these two souls has already taken me places I never imagined and now instead of imagining, I discover.


Happy birthday to my baby who leads the way.

Funhouse

Today I received the highest compliment an unschooling parent can receive. We live in a funhouse!

It was a fairly typical day. This morning we did make an unexpected visit to the dentist. It was tolerated quite well and Juliet left with a new toy, a balloon, having seen part of a new movie and became more comfortable with the doctor. She even gave him a high-five and waved goodbye to the staff- big moves on her part. She took a bath with her new stuffed animal and played with it, making it jump into the water and float. Camille helped me pick up the house a bit since we were expecting friends and we had some lunch, a breakfast burrito for me, eggs for Camille and an apple and cheese stick for Juliet.

Then my friend came over with her 2 year old daughter to hang out. Camille and Juliet were so excited to have them here that they were both pulling out their dress-up clothes and jewelry and games to share. They showed off their bedrooms with their fresh coats of paint and new old shabby-chic furniture. Juliet put on her tap shoes and Camille demonstrated her Build-a-Bear's magnetic hands. They jumped on the beds, all three beds in varying sizes, and played the wii, Cooking Mama and Sing It. They checked out the art studio and the soft fabric on the shelves, we peeked at our corn growing in the yard. The little one played with a doll and chattered the whole time she was here, which was about ninety minutes. I think she touched everything she saw and was bouncing with excitement. The girls were all talking at once, it seemed- there was so much energy and happiness moving around! That's when my friend declared this a funhouse.

After they left, hmm, we watched videos on youtube and shows on the Disney channel. I facebooked, promoted the conference and make phone calls to schedule appointments. Juliet and I played in the dirt and Marc came home to squeals of delight. Camille did cartwheels. I paid bills and Juliet helped me stamp the envelopes. The girls planned dinner, made menus and placecards, set the table and decided what to pick out of the garden. After they each made their version of salad and the rest was cooking, Marc scouted a coyote in the vacant lot behind us and we peered through binoculars at him, George. Camille cut up a kiwi and placed it in her butterfly pavilion to see if she could catch a bird. We shucked our corn. Juliet took my dinner order, carefully writing it all down, and requested I order a popsicle and then presented me with an orange one. After dinner, more videos, more TV. I'm blogging and Camille and I have plans to read Nancy Drew. At some point tonight, we'll fall asleep, happy and full of fun and peace and togetherness.

After being declared a funhouse, I shared with my friend a story about my pre-kids days in Floral Design school (which was only two weeks). My instructor mentioned that her house was more of a workshop than a home; the house was devoted to projects and workspace and just happened to have a small space to sleep, eat and bathe. The emphasis was on the project, the interests. It seemed odd to me then and I remember thinking I could never live that way, but now I completely understand. Our house is much the same, with an emphasis on the play, the fun.

The bed moved this morning to accomodate rolling from one higher one to the lower one. We have fabric "ropes" to swing on in the foyer and Juliet discovered a new way to slide on them with her slippery tap shoes. Toys and books dot every cranny, our dining room table is our computer lab where we enjoy games, youtube, facebook and google. Our library room is where our cat likes to sit and holds a chest that houses an always-varying assortment of treasures. The hall closet is full of shoes and boots, umbrellas, scarves, hats and bags that are pulled out and used in different ways several times every day. There are videos and CDs scattered around the living room, lots of toys and clothes and a leather couch that gets lots of climbing action. The kitchen has many tools and ingredients that we use to whip up concoctions and potions, recipe books for ideas and a big island for measuring, cooking, drawing and eating. The kitchen table bench today had a bowl of dirt and a shovel sitting on it- the roly poly had escaped, however, to environs unknown. There are fish and sea monkeys to feed, our cat to pet, birds to watch and squirrels to chase away. We have fruits and vegetables growing in the yard and lavender, chamomile and other herbs that we like to smell and toss into our baths. There's lots of opportunity to do more than sleep, eat and bathe.

It's so much more than a place where people live. It's a place where people LIVE and laugh and love! It's not always neat and clean (when did I last mop?) and things aren't always where they "should" be or how the house was designed to be lived in; dishes often occupy our floors, couches, desks and tables. We don't always eat the same food or at the same time. Sometimes it's difficult to find something because we don't remember which bag it was last stuffed into for an imaginary trip or an actual outing. Sometimes it's very loud and our media compete. Sometimes we forget to eat because we're so engrossed in our activity. Some nights, we stay up very, very late and fall asleep on couches or the floor, or the tent we sometimes set up in our big bedroom. We focus on the fun and hearing that acknowledged today was like winning an Oscar. It's a title I wouldn't have earned a few years ago, when I played it so safe and needed order and quiet, which I equated to peacefulness. It really was just not exciting. I've let go and found more peace buried in laughter, piles and excess of materials. It's always been there waiting; the trick was discovering that it's usually disguised as rib-tickling, mess-making, bed-jumping, loud-music playing, bathtub-splashing, wii-singing, dirt-flinging, veggie-salad-made-with-milk-and-chocolate-cereal, why-not? fun.

A pretty typical day in our funhouse. Who wants to come over and play?

Juliet Grew a Carrot

Then she washed it and ate it.