November 2008

I live a cluttered, messy life. There are stacks of “things” and boxes of “stuff” and random surfaces strewn with dust and cluttery crap.

Every single room in this house has at least one stack, pile or heap of stuff that needs to be organized and/or moved elsewhere. There’s paperwork needing to be filed, makeshift storage to be disassembled to make way for more sturdy, permanent stuff. And there are tonnes of ideas we have for things we could build/buy to make life neater around here.

Even the basement is full of crap that needs to be sorted and discarded/freecycled/donated.

Every. Single. Room. Is. A. Mess.

Then there are the little things I want/need to do – ranging from hanging pictures (or, um, buying frames first) to painting walls.

Making all of this more complicated is my tendency to go kinda’ nuts once I start a project. Like that time I forced Coffee and myself to paint the entire first floor of our home in 2 days flat because friends were coming to visit. Or the times when I’ve spent four straight hours scrubbing two rooms so that I’d be okay with a friend dropping by to visit for 20 minutes.

The past year has been all about mellowing. I’ve admitted that I do not live perfectly all the time and that I don’t have to make things perfect before people can visit. I’ve happily shuffled some of the blame to the kids (rightfully). And I’ve kinda’ given up on the idea of a showroom-style house because, let’s face it, unless I get some hired help it’s just not gonna’ happen.

And I can’t, unlike in the past, spend two straight days painting things. I can’t spend an entire week organizing something. The kids are everywhere and they require food and the words, “please don’t touch” are totally, completely and utterly meaningless to them.

So, this afternoon, when I turned to Coffee and said, “I think we should have a holiday open house and invite all our friends and family and loved ones..” it was as shocking to me as it was to him.

And I think I’ve managed to knock that idea out of my head in favour of an adoption party in the spring. When all the paperwork is signed and sealed and delivered, and the weather is nice again, I’d like to have everyone over to celebrate.

Which means I should probably start tidying up… now.

There’s this scary aspect of having kids in that it forces you to be a better adult.

Not a better parent, just a better person overall.

(Read the rest…)

On Metafilter recently, someone asked a question about what’s required in order to create a happy childhood. The question was quickly deleted, however, since the person asking the question managed to toss in some “controversial” statements that the mods felt were too leading and a bit inflammatory.

But it got me thinking.

I don’t know what’s involved in creating a happy childhood. I mean, I have ideas and things that I think are important, but ultimately I’m pretty sure the guidelines are different for each kid at each stage in childhood. The ingredients for a happy toddler are different from that of a pre-teen and the rules for a happy introvert are different from an extrovert.

There are certain things that I think are ultimately important, however.

A child should feel loved as they are – to know that love is not conditional on accomplishments or achievements. To know that making mistakes does not diminish their value or their worth and is, in fact, a good way to learn something new. They are important simply because they exist.

A child should be encouraged to explore the world as much as possible. I don’t mean that international travel is required, but simply that kids need to see the good and the bad and understand the world around them as much as possible. They need to touch and feel and see and taste new things as often as they have the chance.

They need to hear the truth – about everything – in age appropriate ways. They need to be able to trust the adults in their world to tell them the truth when they ask a question about even the most uncomfortable subjects.

They need to be allowed to dream. To create. To imagine. To pretend things are possible that aren’t.

They need to learn the art of spending time alone – whether a few minutes or a few hours – and how to entertain themselves without electronics, television or video games. Without friends or siblings. Parents need to encourage children to find a quiet space for themselves in the world.

And they need to learn. How to negotiate, to be kind, to get along with friends, to be respectful, to have manners and to properly present themselves in any circumstances, self-control..

Trust is so important from the other side, too. We need to trust our kids to make their way to school without us attached to them constantly. To make their own friends. To make (some of) their own choices.

Kids need to know that it’s okay for them to hold differing opinions and to learn why we, the adults, hold the particular opinions we do. If you don’t shop at WalMart, tell the kids why. If you don’t let them eat at McDonalds, tell them why, and tell them that it’s okay if they choose otherwise when they’re old enough to make that choice.

They need the freedom to grow into the people they are meant to be – and the encouragement from our side of things. Encouragement is different from shoving them along or forcing them into sports/hobbies/pursuits/education that they don’t want. It means admitting that football bores the shit out of us but letting them sign up for it anyway. It means that our own unfulfilled dreams of being a professional chef have nothing to do with our kids and doesn’t even need to be mentioned.

Does all of that make for a happy childhood? I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure it can’t hurt. And I could go on and on about the other things I think are important, too…

What do you think is crucial to a happy childhood?

OtherMother: I have a talent for knowing when someone is in a bad mood or having a bad day. I can see it on their face!

Me: Really? I have a talent for knowing if someone is certifiably insane – they immediately and instantly want to be my best friend. And I know myself well enough to know that I’m an acquired taste.

Yesterday I went on a field trip with Maymo’s JK/SK class to a local historical site.

I’m pleased to announce that none of the kids died, were injured, got lost or left behind.

At least, none of the kids in MY group.

As the kids were busy learning about life in “the olden days”, I was busy learning a lot about the minds and perspectives of 4 and 5 year olds. I think I learned more than the kids did.

The first thing I learned is that if you tell a bunch of kids not to touch something, they will begin to creep ever-closer to that object with their fingers extended. It’s like a magnetic pull. They cannot handle the very CONCEPT of not touching it. And if you give them the ‘evil eye’ they’ll put the hand down and continue sidling up to the object until they “accidentally” brush against it. Then they’ll feign surprise.

I also learned that it is, in fact, possible to keep a finger up your nose for two straight hours. It’s possible that the child was plugging a brain leak, I suppose.

My son – my wonderful, beautiful, adorable son – spent the entire time flinging his hand up in the air to answer questions. Even questions that hadn’t been asked yet. Questions, perhaps, that the leader of the tour was thinking about asking or had asked the day before. As soon as the leader opened her mouth, Maymo’s hand would shoot up in the air and he’d start wiggling it around.

After a while, she started to pretend he was invisible and was desperately calling on other kids when she actually DID have a question.

I learned, too, that when you put a bunch of small kids in front of a photo showing slaughtered pigs being bled from a tree (a lesson in how pioneer people butchered their food and then used the fat to make soap and candles) and then ask them “Can anyone tell me what’s hanging in the tree?” at least one child will mistake the gigantic dead carcass for a bird feeder.

Another child taught me the lesson that, when it comes time to wash your hands, it is impossible to do so if the water is “too wet”. Attempts to persuade him otherwise were for naught and I had to settle for getting him to touch the surface of the water with his fingertips. I decided not to remind him that the soap was made from dead pigs.

Then they made cookies. Every single cookie was lopsided and wonky and half-dented and definitely not heart-shaped in the slightest. When the time came to eat those cookies, later, not one child noticed that their hard work had been replaced with the efforts of someone with considerably more manual dexterity. Nor did they notice the addition of cinnamon and sugar on top. They all just happily proclaimed that they made REALLY GOOD cookies and likely went home to insist on helping their parents in the kitchen.

I learned that the animal which says, “Baaa baaaa!” is, in fact, a cow.

And the fleece from sheep? It actually comes from inside sofa pillows and not from sheep. One child was POSITIVE of this fact. He KNEW it. There was NO WAY it came from sheep. UH UH, NO WAY LADY.

I learned that children fear the bus driver getting lost on the 10 minute drive from school to field trip destination AND on the return. Apparently the kids are aware that the budget for schools is shrinking annually and suspect the teachers are hiring hobos to do the transportation on these trips. I had to reassure several of the kids that they would, in fact, make it back safely.

It didn’t help when the bus driver overshot a particular street and slammed it in reverse to remedy the problem.

I learned that historical-shmishtorical, the whole trip was a bit of a waste because no one got to run around screaming and playing and hiding underneath all those antique beds. And what was the point of a trip where no one could touch anything and everyone had to keep their hands to themselves? Next time, teach about pioneer life somewhere with good toys – like ROBOTS!

And, perhaps most importantly, I have learned that I will never be a good JK/SK teacher. My sense of humour is too dark and bleak, my patience is minimal, and I have a tendency to believe my child is the smartest, bestest kid in the whole world. That, and I own too many t-shirts with slogans I’m not comfortable explaining to other people’s small children.

Today is Buy Nothing Day.

Coincidentally, we started the discussion of a “simple Christmas” with the two older boys last night.

It was interesting, to say the least.

My dream, for a long time, was to be a doctor. A family practitioner.

Somewhere along the way, however, I discovered the cost involved wasn’t something I could handle. The student loans required would have killed me.

And now I’m 33 years old, married, with kids and the cost is even more of a problem.

But if some small community wanted to foot the bill for me to go to medical school? I’d leap on it. LEAP. I’d commit myself to living in that community as their doctor. Sure, it’d take some time for me to be finished school and ready to work, but in the meantime, it’s not like anyone else is stepping in.

And I wonder: why don’t small communities who are desperate for a doctor start making those offers? There are a lot of people out there, like me, who might actually be amazing doctors if they had the support required to get there.

This morning, as I climbed into a really nice hot shower (after far too long without taking one), I caught a whiff of.. curry.

And I realized that for the past month, give or take a few days, I have eaten at least one meal EACH DAY that contained curry powder. I am totally addicted to curry, whether you can call it an addiction or not.

Curry has magical healing powers, y’know. Especially when it contains turmeric.

And now I am apparently exuding those health benefits THROUGH MY SKIN. I will try to be understanding if you sneak up on me and lick my forehead.

There are so many things I want the kids to know – to learn – and I’m just not sure how to go about doing it in a way that makes sense. They’re old enough that I think I can appeal to their common sense and grasp of reality, but I keep finding myself thwarted.

I want them to learn that simplicity – in all senses of the word – is far superior to the alternatives.

That “things” do not equal love.

That there are people in the world who live in conditions my kids can’t even imagine.

That we, the middle class people, are wealthier than a very, very large portion of the world’s population.

I want them to realize that some holidays were simply invented for the sake of stimulating retail sales and that other holidays have been perverted for the same reason.

That my desire to not buy them everything they ask for, all the time, does not stem from poverty but because I don’t want to spend our way into poverty AND because I want them to recognize how few of those things they actually need.

And, of course, my dream is to have a simple Christmas. One where we hang out, have some “down” time for everyone to chill, eat some cookies, and perhaps watch a holiday movie or two. Late nights to bed, eggnog, and some sparkly lights.

The kids, however, do not seem to be on the same page.

I don’t want them to have a crappy holiday, of course. I just want them to be aware and awake and have a better global perspective. To see what’s waste and what’s necessary and to appreciate what they already have in the tangible and intangible senses.

In my ideal world, the kids would get three gifts each – one thing that they need, one thing that they want, and one thing that’s a surprise from Santa.

And perhaps a book or two, because I believe books are one of the best books a kid can possibly get from anyone, ever.

I already know that if I suggest this, the three kids will have totally different reactions.

Maymo would be fine. He’s the easiest to please on all levels. If we bought him 20 items at the dollar store, he’d fall over with glee.

Middle One would lose his mind and start freaking out about how “poor” we are and that all his friends are getting really cool, really expensive things and he wants that too and, ohgodohgod, why don’t we LOVE him?

And Oldest One would assert that all he wants is 50 x $35 World of Warcraft game play cards and to be left alone for the entire holiday to lose himself in the online game.

So I don’t know how to swing this – how to not spend heaps of money on stuff they don’t really want/need and to make sure they DO get some neato gifts at the same time. How to make the holidays fun and enjoyable and not inspire panic in Middle One and.. all the rest.

I don’t even LIKE Christmas, for the love of pete.
GAH.

Quick: name three albums/CDs that you consider essential to your collection. .. Any genre, any style, any singer/band.