Scrub Days.

Some days, all my best laid plans and ideas for the day just. aren't. working. Getting little minds and hands corralled into any activity is like trying to herd drunken cats. Or juggle them. It's difficult.

I used to end these days crying after everyone was asleep, in my favorite "comfort" pajamas over a carton of vanilla greek yogurt, asking my cat questions like: "Why is this so hard? Why can't I get them to follow this awesome plan? Am I failing all my kids completely? Why do I SUCK?! Do you even care?"

Then, on one of Those Days, I noticed something. I'd stuck everyone in the car and released them into a big park with a field, in effort to not yell at anyone harshly out of frustration. (Don't pretend now. We all do that sometimes. ;oP ) They meandered into a giant pavilion with a sandpit and so immersed their minds in play and their toes in sand that they stayed there happily for 3 full hours. It struck me that this is probably what they needed all along.

So now, when a day's just not working, I scrub all plans. Done. There's now nothing on the docket, except sitting and waiting for the day to tell us what needs to happen for us all to find our balance again. The answer always presents itself, eventually, and it's usually the youngest of us that discovers the truth first. (More often than not, if you let the youngest member of the family set the barometer for the day, things are bound to be more successful all around, in my experience, which sort of flies in the face of conventional wisdom I suppose.)

Sometimes, the solution is a day doing nothing but reading in bed together. Sometimes, we have an impromptu trip to the park. Often, it's building elaborate tents and tunnels with quilts and chairs and tables, and pretending until people fall asleep under a hideout or indoor makeshift hammock. Another favorite go-to is gross motor movement activities like tree climbing or building dams in streams with rocks or scaling giant wood chip mounds. Almost invariably, sour moods are put right again, tempers stop flaring and the pointless urgency of the atmosphere drains lazily out of the day like water out of a long, luxurious bath.

Grace and Lark's bear cave

Sometimes, we simply toss pillows in the floor and watch movies together while eating popcorn (everyone gets their OWN bowl.) If we need to run out and grab snacks just to get through that day, so be it. (And who says anyone needs matching shoes anyway? There are days for nice outfits and matching shoes, and then there are days to celebrate the hilarity of being a little ridiculous!)

Most importantly, there's no pushing through or powering ahead when everyone's got a bad case of "the stupids" (you know, the days when every instruction is met with a blank stare), or the grumpies, or when the whole family is just restless in general. There's only stopping and trying to find our bliss on Scrub days. And that's OK.

It's OK because Scrub Days are about finding something our routine made us leave behind. Relationship. Connection. Alone time. Fantasy. Imagination. Our inner monkey. When we give ourselves time to honor the part inside us that's screaming for air and sustenance, so that we can become balanced people again. Then we can move forward and think about words like "accomplishment" and "rhythm" and "planning".

 All work and no play makes Jane a dull/grouchy/spaced out/whiny/incomplete girl. So instead pecking away at the impossible, we relax and let our Muses carry us effortlessly to where we needed to go in the first place. Does it look indulgent and lazy to others? Sure. Who cares! We know it's wise. We know it works. And that's really all that matters.

Getting lost in wonderland.

Book dramas for the kinesthetic learner

Today's reading lesson consisted of reading through "Guess How much I Love You" (Lark's choice), helping her recognize letters and sounds, and prompting her through words that follow basic phonetic rules such as "big", "nut", "bed", "in", "up" and the like. Then, we donned some stretchy legging ears and turned our living room into a veritable warren. 

Fun was had by most. Electra would have rather been napping. ;oP

Rainbow feet.

I've sat down five times to complete this post, but, because I"m a mother of small children, it's just not happening.

This week was a very long week, emotionally, for reasons that have nothing to do with my kids or Barefoot Man. However, being a parent doesn't stop, not even for the heartbroken. There were still dirty bums, still quarrels to sort out, still meals to cook, still a hot car to climb into, still groceries to haul, still piles and piles of laundry to process and still things to teach and learn.

And because this weekend was "catch up" weekend, while Barefoot Man took the older two fishing, the littles and I stayed at home. They napped and watched an endless loop of Dora the freaking Explorer while I worked my ass off. And all I want out of life is an hour to myself in silence.

Lark is currently trying to cheer me up by singing a love song AT me at the top of her lungs. Electra is jabbering away "mamamama" at me while she digs her little pointy toenails into my already raw thighs. Grace cried about me not loving her while I hugged and rocked and cajoled and slathered sweet words on her like icing on a grumpy cupcake until she passed out from the long day (mercifully). Mirth is practicing the 7.5 year old ritual of informing me about facts I just recently taught her as if educating me (this is her way of double checking information, and a bit of a nasty habit ;oP )

I. am. spent.

I've nothing clever to say.

I do, however, have a lovely picture that was the brain child of both Barefoot and I...the footprints were his idea, and the rainbow colors was mine. :O) It's brightening our back doorstep splendidly. We used basic acrylic paint (such as Plaid brand), and will seal them over with a clear outdoor patio sealer. Fun! :)

Everyone should be a little silly sometimes.

"Mix a little foolishness in with your serious plans; it's lovely to be silly at the right moment." -Horace

Today: Silly face veggie bagels (idea taken from Pretend Soup, a terrific children's beginning cookbook) and homemade soda, a la Van Ottertots. Enjoy! :O) (We did!! I was honestly shocked when every last veggie nose and eyeball got eaten.)

Homemade soda:

1 part club soda, 1 part your favorite fruit juice

1 teaspoon of stevia or sugar

The end! ;oP It's delicious, and ends up having less sugar in it than just an ounce for ounce glass of juice, when all's said and drunk. My favorite's blueberry, while the girls prefer orange or pineapple. It really is more amazing when drunk in glass canning jars. Just sayin'.

Thoughts on Creativity

Every once in a while, I get the urge to dust off a soapbox, climb up on it, and see if it wobbles. Today is one of those "once in a while"s.

Today's dusty box:

commercialism vs. creativity!!

Obviously, the biggest reason any family enjoys creating things with each other is the sheer joy of using brains and hands and imaginations to make something practical, silly, beautiful and/or functional. Every human has some sort of creative energy,

though it looks different for each person, and there's a very tangible "buzz" that comes from seeing a need and finding your own way to meet it! The first time a baby figures out how to get from point A to B, creative thinking is involved. It's all about experimentation and problem solving, really, and then pouring yourself into the process, be it abstract or concrete.

In my (increasingly humble) opinion, one of the saddest artificially-manufactured deaths our

creative brains can meet

is early life programming (literally, consumerist ideals directed at toddlers and children) through television commercials and product imprinting. I'll save the gender-specific marketing rant for another day. ;)

Rather than exuberantly hollering "let's MAKE such-and-such for lunch!", children have literally been programmed by commercials and ads to say, "I want to go to McDonalds!" Why? Because marketers take advantage of childrens' natural instinct to learn things through socialization. When the social "norm" (aka, the excitable kids and adults on television) becomes begging for certain things and enjoying them, kids perceive this as normal human existence and try to emulate it. We're seriously screwing our children up by letting greedy people exploit normal biological process. (Normally, I'd never say that out loud, for fear of others feeling badly, but, today, I'm mostly speaking loudly to myself.)

However, if kids perceive the social norm as children and adults enjoying outdoors, actually

preparing food, finding creative solutions to their problems (rather than simply buying a solution every time), they readily accept that they'll be able to do it, too. Their personalities start to breathe, and that's a lovely thing to behold. (At this point, I want to express a heartfelt thanks to the friends and family in my life who are willing to spend time in our garden and kitchen and sewing table and hiking trail with our kids: you're investing in the future when you do this, and it doesn't go unnoticed or unappreciated! It takes a village...)

Obviously, we're not all interested or cut out for everything "crafty". (For example, I'm an

abysmal failure at knitting, no matter how frenzied the craze becomes.) Fortunately, "crafty" is only a very small niche in the universe of creativity. There are so many different levels of enjoyment and angles of attack for creative expression, it boggles the mind.

The most obvious diversity to me would be the people in my own life: My spouse enjoys woodworking. A few good friends charm mouth-watering creations out of the kitchen at a rate that's required me to purchase new jeans. ;P My mom enjoys making up her own sewing

patterns. Nate and I have brothers out of whom creativity practically leaps at every turn, no matter what the material of choice. My dad enjoys figuring out new ways to make his greenhouse more efficient. Another friend is a genius at interpersonal problem solving, and is constantly finding new ways to communicate effectively. My 2yo enjoys smearing chocolate pudding in her hair and drawing designs into the goo. We all have the ability!

People don't even have to be remarkably inventive or artistic to awaken the "create!!" functions of the brain. There's no need to be impressive: thinking out of the box is simply part and parcel of the experience of being a living, breathing human. We needn't be snobby or lauded or pretentious about our endeavors in order to stoke the fire of the human soul, and free ourselves from the need to identify ourselves with the mass-produced "creations" of others. Anything we can do to crawl out of the carefully constructed commercial boxes modern life has fallen into, in order to reclaim a little bit of human experience, is a truly good thing.