Mischief Managed.

Dear Essie, Nomi and Eva,

When your mama was little, I had a lively mind, and a stubborn streak a mile wide (not a bad thing, if you ask me). When your daddy was a small fry, he was lively with a propensity for getting into honest mischief when he was bored. So, chances are, if you have as many babies as you say you want to have, you might have at least one offspring who has a wildly active mind or body.

These are the two year olds who empty not one,

but ALL of the flour

and dried bean cannisters from the pantry while their mommy lays their baby sister down for a nap. These little sprites attempt to get their own cereal and milk at 2.5, climb to the top of the bookshelf at 3, leave the house through the window screen to pick mommy some flowers at 3.5, give all their stuffed animals a

shampoo early in the morning very quietly "so they don't bother your sleep" at 4, and try their hand at making waffles from scratch and doctoring the "diseased" cat with medical tape at 4.5. (And the same children who chase down that very cat and wrestle it to the ground to save an unfortunate mole from certain death!)

Least you think my opinion of lively children is low, let me set the record straight right now,

loves: I'm rather fond of them. In fact, I think they're brilliant in every way. I admire their creativity and drive to accomplish new things, appreciate the fact that they aren't dampened by the arbitrary rules that society deems necessary to set. The soft spot in my heart for lively people is permanent and dear to me.

Teaching respect of others can be a challenge, so, I'll let you in on a secret I've discovered: lively children tend to recognize and honor the boundaries of others more when their own needs are

met. That sounds like a great deal of gobbledygook , doesn't it? What it means, boiled down, is- you may threaten and take and woun

d and restrict as much as you like, but this will likely only serve to frustrate your lively

child. Mommy knows, unfortunately, because I've tried all those things. It was actually Essie, one day, that looked at me and said, "Doing that will only make me madder. I can't help it. I need something to DO!!"

And that's the key, darlings. An active mind literally and simply cannot stop being as active as it is. So, my job as a mommy became not keeping you out of mischief, but giving you plenty of safe exploring and adventure to sink your little teeth into. It dawned on me slowly that I didn't want to slowly box you into something more manageable. I wanted to show you how to be the best and safest spectacular you that you could possibly be without blowing yourself and others up.

Ever notice how all the interesting book characters (the ones who have the best adventures) tend to be a bit different or "mischievous"? Most of them are also the people who have the quick wits and bravery to rise to the occasion when something truly terrifying or challenging presents itself. Never let another person shame you out of playing the role that was written for you; if you're full of spirit, it's for a reason!

It's been hard work keeping you busy. But then, so would have been following you around and bullying and coaxing and begging and insisting that you be still and docile, something completely against your (God-given) nature. So, we dance. We jump, we climb, we take things apart, we cook, we put things back together, we jest, we roll, we sing at the top of our lungs, we read about squirrel anatomy after we find a dead one in the yard, we make approved messes.

I sit cringing sometimes on the sidelines while you crack eggs and get some on the counter, while you hammer away at nails in a board, you dexterously walk narrow rails, while you bury yourself in the dirt in the garden, you teach me phrases of your own invented language and while you construct your very own dutch-hair-fro through copious amount of back-combing (and then proudly wait by the door to go grocery shopping in your new 'do).

And, frankly, loves? Despite the fact that I fall into bed completely and utterly exhausted every night, I wouldn't want to change a thing. I used to hope you got a "more" child in your adult years, as a means of personal retribution. Now, I pray you get the privilege someday, because it's an intensely beautiful and humbling experience to see a being that intense burn so brightly every morning.

I love you.

To some mama or daddy.

I have a little girl who loves pancakes and cats and wearing rainboots with her dresses. She likes animals and songs and watching things grow, and especially snuggling in the winter. She collects rocks. I happen to think she's the cat's meow.

She's ferociously protective of little things, helpless things, and the people she loves, and she's endlessly patient with her baby sister even when she "is completely owie-ing her face!" She likes polka dot cardigans, little tiny figurines and using great big words and poetic phrases. She likes to climb things, and to be impressive.

Today, without prompting, she told me of the sort of man she'd like to marry. He must like to wear polka dotted bow ties when he's feeling dressy. He must like toast with marmalade on it, and he must enjoy making waffles on the weekend. He should like to garden and grow things, and have lots of animals. He must be gentle and very brave and snuggly. He should be strong. He mustn't like to step on lady bugs. The bow tie is important. He must be "the best person she's ever met".

Since this is important to my funny little woodland elf, it's also important to me, naturally. I

think her heart is quite smart.

If this is the sort of boy you have at your house, please hug him for me, lots of times; at least 12 times a day. Be so patient with him when he brings frogs into the house, and applaud his love for living things. When you feel so frustrated that you feel like hurting him, rock him instead. Don't stop him when he tries to climb that next highest branch in the tree. Be proud of his wildness, and be proud of his gentleness. When he cries, don't tell him not to-just show him how to use a tissue. Teach him how to solve problems, not ignore them. If he wants to learn to sew, don't be squeamish. Teach the boy to sew. Be terrified of his best dinosaur roar.

In other words...love him for who he is. I know my sweet little monkey girl will.

My girl.

Hippogriffs, Thesauri and Henbit

Our family likes to play silly

word games in the car...it started way back when my brother (who ended up an English major) and I used sit in the back of our family's station wagon and play the Alphabet game on road trips, which escalated to the "see how many similar words you can name under one word in the thesaurus" game.

One of Nate and my favorite pastimes while driving in the mountains or hiking is thinking up the biggest words we can that start with a certain letter. Another (the one the girls and I were playing today), is the game where you have to think of all the words you can that match a

syllabic scheme: for instance, four syllables, emphasis on syllable two. Ubiquitous, forsythia, Corinthian, tumultuous, cantankerous, inferior, apology, hilarious, regrettably, lascivious,

remarkable...you get it.

So, anyway, I was trying to explain the rules to Essie, while dubious that

she'd grasp the concept yet, but she piped right in with, "I see! Three syllables, emphasis on the first: HIPPOGRIFF!!" (She's reading Harry Potter.) Then, Nomi rasped out, "Chrysalis! And Icarus!" You could have knocked me down with a wax-laden feather. There's something about kids and rhythm...it's like peanut butter and jelly.

Next thing I heard was, "Two syllables, emphasisissss on the first: butthead!!" No one ever accused us of being highbrow.

This afternoon, I found an awesome, amazing find at the antique store, but I shan't say what it is until I actually get in in my house, least I somehow jinx the process. I'm on cloud nine.

This evening, Esther was out of sorts, and was sent to bed early, and Eva fell asleep in the car ride home from picking Nate up from work...so it was just me and the Nominator (who is delightfully 4.5 these days). We decided to make a sign on the door of our laundry room that tells whether the washer is empty or full. (Someone, perhaps me, has a naughty habit of leaving the clothes in there until they start smelling of sauerkraut, probably because I have a very visually prompted memory..the family, however, objects to their underthings smelling like feet. Pickies.)

We made the laundry door sign out of some old aprons of my grandmothers that had been stained, and some happy vintage lace and buttons. It makes me grin.

our shoe vase is hard at work again, now that the yard is covered in purple sheets of henbit...spring is coming!!

Upcycled footstool!

Meet bertha the five dollar footstool. Ain't she a beyoot? ;OP I found her in thrift store this week, and, against my better judgement, took her home with me. She looked at me with puppy dog hinges. How could I refuse?

A little bit of tender loving elbow grease made it into a nice little box to keep books and treasures in, and for the kidlets to sit on! I may make a little tutorial later, but for now, here she is. :O)

Tada!! That's all for now. :)

What happened to my sweet baby? (A letter to myself)

Dear (increasingly bald from yanking out your hair) Self,

Please, dear, grab yourself a cup of tea or wine or straight up 40 proof, take a dozen deep cleansing breaths, and put up your feet on the couch while you read this. You deserve it.

It's really common, as the parent of a budding toddler, to feel a little "duped" by any easy-parenting fantasies you held previously, or completely steamrolled by the realization that gentle parenting (and ANY parenting) is really long, really hard, often thankless work.

The bonding phase of infancy and babyhood is literally intoxicating for me. It's so easy to lull myself into imagining that the oxytocin-induced euphoria of bonding is actually the result of an impossibly easy and perfect freak-child: yes, the child that destiny sent after seeing what an interesting time previous siblings had caused me, and taking great pity on me. (In other words, I'd DONE my time, lol.)

For many mothers, 12mo-2.5 years is a HUGE reality check about what it means to be a parent. I discovered very fast that my daughter is and forever will be her own person, with her own ideas, her own hopes, her own God-given bent and personality...that is often in contrast/conflict with mine! It was both terrifying and extraordinary. Awe-inspiring, really.

It was a time that I spent much time in hysterical prayer/research, realizing the weight of the task I was about to undertake: leading an individual gently and thoughtfully through childhood, and realizing that *I* was now the adult in her life that she looked to for protection, instruction and nurture. Despite any cranky moods, unfairness, and challenge that the commitment brought me, I was committed to being her mom! What a HUGE paradigm shift this was for me!

(Apparently, up until that point, I was slightly delusional, and saw my firstborn as an adorable tiny tennis shoes wearing, Monty Python quoting wonder-doll, who would remain in tune with my every suggestion for life. {Insert Beavis and Butthead style laughter here)

In light of what I've gleaned from my limited experience (this is our 3rd time around), and from observations of emotional trends that tend to happen at this age, I thought I'd compile a little list that might be helpful for a mama navigating this for the first (or second, third, fourth...) time!

Things that make this time unique:


Differentiation (Mama and me are different!): From 12 months, babies begin a fantastic journey of finding their own place in the world, as they no longer view themselves an extension of mommy! This means exploration; fuzzy, emotional opinions of their own; unique ideas; lots of experimenting with behaviors and words. This age can be charming, funny, busy and exhausting for parents!

New experimental expressions like the infamous "NO!!!" are healthy, but can take some adjusting to emotionally, especially if your background (like mine) was a punitive/permissive paradigm. It can take a while to find a balance between allowing for individual expression and enforcing healthy boundaries.

Need for reassurance: The flip side of differentiation is need for nurture! Babies this age often get overwhelmed by their own ability to stray from mama, and from the sheer new volume of stimulation and information at their fingertips! While they're struggling to get down and explore their world, they also need plenty of cuddling, loving, direction and reassurance!

Increased Mobility : If you have a child this age, this point is obvious. Childproofing, wise choices in playdate location, lots of redirecting and on-feet time for parents is a hallmark of this busy phase!

Changing lifestyle: Up until this point, it's easy enough to tote along little Rex or Regina in a stroller or sling, and friends are generally happy to see your little bundle of cuteness. Once toddling is reached, however, things like eating and the bowling alley become more challenging. (Sometimes challenging is a laughable understatement!) You're now responsible for making sure the boundaries of others are honored, AND setting your little one up for successful behavior by providing appropriate place to explore. If your social life is mostly composed of single or childless friends, this experience will likely be even more obvious.

For extroverted or social couples, this can be especially challenging, and it may take time and patience to reinvent your social support system in a way that nurtures you and provides a safe, successful environment for your child. The work put into it is always satisfying! Don't give up, and be patient with yourself and your spouse as you navigate these new waters.

Changing sibling relationships: For toddlers with older siblings, this is often an age of discovering rivalry (and relationship!). Different children with different needs and opinions about things require lots of involvement and navigation of physical boundaries from parents (especially in the very early years!) The baby is all of a sudden more interesting and, sometimes, more scary. The inner Mama Bear that is awoken when one child hurts another can leave you feeling wild and breathless sometimes.

If your toddler is the older child, this is often a very rattling emotional time for mama! Feelings of betraying your toddler with another pregnancy, worry that you won't have enough resources to go around, feelings of annoyance that they won't mature more quickly, feelings of being overwhelmed by the needs of TWO small people can be daunting. It's a great time to take a deep breath and ask yourself what your child is actually capable of (and not what you WISH he/she were capable of), and trouble-shoot from there.



Body changes for mama: Most women notice changes in their bodies or, at very least, the amount of time/energy that can be devoted to self-image or self care after the infant year! This can contribute to deconstruction of the way we view ourselves, and tends to lend an emotional intensity to our reactions to increasing demands on our energy and patience.

Remembering that people who feel well behave well helps. Pick a hobby or pursuit you love. Call a girlfriend. Hand your toddler off to your spouse or a trusted loved on for a couple of hours. Taking care of ourselves (even if it's just half an hour in the tub every week to unwind and soak out the stress) isn't selfish. It's prudent.

Need for increased body boundaries, but continued need for nurture:
While being an attached parent, it's often healthy and useful to recognize that there are age-appropriate times to gradually set limits on our children's access to our bodies (nursing boundaries, need for personal space sometimes). This can look different for every parent/child, according to individual needs. It's also important to recognize that while setting boundaries and limits, we can honor the fact that our toddlers are still very small and very much babies who continue to need some level of physical reassurance. As in all things, a healthy balance for everyone can be struck.

Discipline choices take a central role: This is a sorting out time for most parents in the area of discipline philosophy. Toddlerhood is where the proverbial rubber meets the road. The realization that parenting and reinforcing the same boundary over and over can be HARD sets in, and many mothers previously delighted with Gentle Discipline can feel disillusioned. (It is, after all, a lot easier to imagine being gentle with a cooing baby than with a mobile baby who has their own set of needs and opinions! )

Parenting isn't easy. It takes committment, time, patience, repetition, and a commitment to strive for teaching and instilling of love for the long haul. It takes *time* and energy, and there are no easy solutions when cultivating compassion, kindness and character.

It's also an age where the decision has to be reached to become educated and confident in your OWN parenting choices, and to grow rather thick skin from the flurry of advice that's bound to come your way. Others often have strong opinions about how we should parent our own children. I've found that with family, it's good to take a no-nonsense approach, and simply "out" myself as a proactive, gentle mother, and make it clear that my parenting choices aren't up for discussion. I do the same with close friends. This isn't forceful or rude; it's taking on the appropriate role of authority and protector in your precious child's life, and making the boundary of your place as Parent clear.

Much of parenting is donning a flame-proof attitude about the decisions you prayerfully and thoughtfully make, and then standing your ground, and surrounding yourself with those who will at least be respectful of your choices. It's a time when you step out of a follower role yourself, and become a leader for your children.


One last point: It helps to remember that a lot of the annoying behaviors that come with certain ages and phases are just that: phases. Children generally mature out of them, just with passing of time and consistent, gentle reinforcement of boundaries. (Really, they do. It's like magic. And the ) To be sure, each new phase brings with it it's own set of unique and what often appear to be bizarre behaviors. Read up on ages and stages...Ames and Ilg's "Your Two Year Old" is a great place to start.

I challenge each mom to pray and ask God to help her to fall in love with THIS child that you've been given. Not the child you imagined you had, not the child you expected, not the child you wish you had. Ask the Holy Spirit to wind your heart around what it is that makes this specific child's personality fantastic and capable, and then commit to pouring your effort into nurturing that. It's a beautiful journey, if hectic and crazy sometimes, and one that's worth the walking!

Dandelions and Sheep Sorrel: keeping an open mind.

Today, I had one of those little "ahas" that will literally alter the way I view the land around me.

Meet sheep sorrel (also known as Rumex acetosella, or sour dock).

It's been in all the lawns and land I've ever lived on, and I've spent more than half a dozen springs now grousing to myself as I toss it onto the weed pile while turning over my herb bed. Today, I learned that it's not only edible, but also incredibly good for you (high in antioxidants, vitamin C, beta-carotene and potassium) , and quite good in soups. What looked like an invasive annoyance yesterday looks like something to harvest and chop up and chew and dry and season things with today. It was like magic, or maybe more like Christmas: suddenly, I had something excellent that I hadn't had before.

Same goes for dandelions: besides bringing sheer joy and whimsy to my childhood days when I watched the freshly blown seeds floating weightlessly through the air, I'd come to view it as something of a pest, if not something outright evil (because my absurd definition of "good" meant a useless lawn with only grass on it). It wasn't until I was pregnant with Naomi that I realized that it's taproot was excellent for relieving water retention and it's leaves were packed with copious amounts of vitamin C. Suddenly, I didn't have a "crappy backyard"; I was rolling in a wealth of edibles.

Obviously, the plants didn't change. My limited understanding had been expanded, and fear, vanity and ignorance has been removed from my understanding of what was living and growing and thriving around me. There is much I don't know. There are many things I fail to understand. My limited understanding of good doesn't define where the line between "useful" and "waste" is actually drawn. The evolution of ourselves as individual humans depends largely on our capability to discern the difference between prudence and ignorance, and the ability to acknowledge our limited vantage point before casting an unfortunate judgement.

Such has been the lesson of sheep sorrel in my life today. {/sermonette}