Tag: surrender

Night Owl Tastes the Early Worm

This morning I got up early to make a quick gift for a wee girl. It’s a soothy/pacifier/nuk-nuk/chooch/you-name-it holder, a key piece if you use these things so they don’t get lost or dirty. And it might as well be charming!

I’ve been trying this lately, the up-early-to-get-some-work-done bit that is, and sometimes it works with my sleeper-iner boys! The time is finite and my ears tense for waking sounds, but so far I’ve some fair success, as long as I don’t plan too big a task.

I tend towards the Night Owl side of things, always have. I revel in a quiet, still house and come alive creatively after 11 o’clock pm, loving the possibility in the hours that lie ahead and not being interrupted (except perhaps to nurse). But the danger is that I’ll easily work almost all night and that’s not great when those hours are meant for sleeping. And it isn’t particularly compatible with present, conscious mothering, so I’m trying to choose sleep when there’s sleep for the taking and not to get seduced by long stretches of quiet, velvety, night hours I could use to sew and sew and write and think!

One of the things I miss most from my before-kids days are the long chunks of undivided, dedicated time I could carve out for projects. I definitely couldn’t appreciate what a freedom that was. Sometimes, nay, often, keeping so many balls in the air is not the most effective or satisfying way to get things done. But I’d rather be juggling in order to still be creative and creating alongside my lovely boys than not. And I wouldn’t trade them, don’t mistake this for a complaint. Rather, their presence in my life has taught me to use my time way more efficiently. And to value quiet night hours like gold.

But I am an Owl in Robin’s clothing. The early worm tastes okay, it’ll definitely do. But there’s no doubt I’ll still succumb to the night now and then … hoot hoot!

I’m loving this easy soother strap design I’ve settled on and recently picked up some great ribbon so I can make a bunch for Etsy. Cute, non?

Velcro Baby and Love Letters with a 4-year-old

A love letter “posted” in a bike basket full of flowers. All photos in this post by Lindsay Zier-Vogel, the Love Letterer herself!

 

 

I haven’t written specifically about the kids or the mothering in a while. We are truckin’ along and I am riding the ever shifting balance of being home with two energetic, gorgeous boys. Gene is now 9-months-old and he is suddenly Captain Velcro, meaning he’s stuck to me like glue every waking moment. He’s utterly content if he’s on me, but the minute I try to leave — and by leave, I mean to go, say, get the mail or make some lunch, something innocent and necessary like that — he’s panicing, weeping, wailing piercingly, heartrendingly. He falls asleep clutching a handful of my breast in case the food source should try and sneak off whilst he’s at rest! He’s realized in earnest that I can disappear and that he doesn’t know when I’ll be back. And this consciousness has led to paranoia on a grand scale! Of course it’s normal and good and I’m so glad to see him evolve, even if sometimes I find myself trying to go pee with an infant stuck to me, which is no easy feat. I surrender a lot these days and just lie on the floor or in bed and let him satellite around me, maybe fold laundry or read but often just be there (at the cost of cleanliness or order in the house, but this too shall pass!) We have lots of giggles and gazing sessions together and he continues to charm me silly.

Then there’s Rudi, now 4 years old. He’s suddenly so grown up! He’s still got his powerful will Will WILL intact but I am finding that the near constant butting of heads that we’ve been playing at for the past few months is easing up. He is more independent than ever, he makes his own toast now and is so proud to “make breakfast!” He is a little more logical, a little more worldly. He can wait when I ask him too, knowing that it won’t be interminable. And we are starting to have little moments of, for lack of a better way to put it, hanging out. As mom and son rather than mom and toddler. I take him out once in a while without Gene because even though I’m with both boys all day, my attention is divided and Gene usually gets more of me. So I jumped at the opportunity to take Rudi to go Love Lettering last week with my friend, the indomitable artist Lindsay Zier-Vogel.

Choosing his Love Lettering materials carefully.

The Love Lettering Project is a community arts project bringing love letters to strangers. Lindsay’s been at it for eight years now and gained all sorts of local and national attention last year. The project grows by leaps and bounds each year and I “love” it (a-ha-ha). This year, she’s setting up at various community events, inviting people to write a love letter to something they love about their city and then leave it anonymously for someone to find — which will surly brighten the days of all involved! Rudi and I went to The Avro in Toronto’s East end for PAL-SAC‘s (Post A Letter Social Activity Club) night hosting The Love Lettering Project. We chatted, he had water in a pint glass, worked diligently on a love letter to The Secret Park (which is near our house, but I can’t say where exactly, what with it being Secret and all) and chatted up the locals. Then we went for burnt-marshmallow ice cream at Ed’s. It was a good night!

Working oh-so carefully on his Love Letter to The Secret Park in Toronto. I love the white finger tips on his left hand!

I loved being able to chat with Rudi without the divided attention necessary when I’m  solo with the two boys. We are so much calmer together when we’re alone together. I think there’s a lesson in there for me somewhere! I’m sure it has a lot to do with my tension level. I am constantly amazed by what mirrors we are as parents. Rudi so often reflects how I am, and he’s got keen senses, because I can’t be faking calm, he’ll still pick up on the turmoil underneath if it’s there. So cheers to one-on-one dates with 4-year-olds, with sons, and cheers to love letters. And to velcro, can’t forget the velcro …

Love Letter accomplished and sealed. Now time for delivery …

Adventures in …

… BABY FOOD!

My little Gene-bean is now 6 1/2 months old. He’s been gnawing on veggies, toast crusts, fruit, hunks of meat, generally taste-testing anything we’re eating for the past few weeks. With his big brother Rudi, I did the widely perscribed and accepted intro to eating through a series of different cereal, but I found it oh so bland, boring, messy and altogther uninspired. So with Gene, we’re trying something different — he’s eating what we’re eating (within reason!).

I was making soup last week so I separated out some yams and turnips before fancying up my seasoning and blended them on their own. And then I borrowed a technique from my dear friend Angela: once blended, take a spoon and throw down “splats” (splat being the technical term in this highly technical and specific process, ahem) of blended veggies on a wax paper covered cookie sheet. Then freeze said splats, remove them from the sheet and have baby-sized splats stored in tupperware or freezer bags, ready to pop into a pot for a 2 minute warming and presto! Super gorgeous baby food. And I only have to make a batch every couple of weeks. Awesome. Here’s Gene’s first ever round of yams and turnips:

… TRAVELLING WITH A SOOTHER!

I was very judgemental about soothers/pacifiers/dummies before I had Rudi. Then I had Rudi. And he was a sucker. And anything that soothed my baby made sense, so I gave and a soother family we became. I feel just fine about it! To each his/her (pronouns just for you Angela, bloody capital-F Feminist!) own I truly feel. But I digress, this adventure is not about to soother or not to soother, it’s about how to hang onto the dang things if you use ’em.

Gene and I got on a plane 3 days ago. The day before, as I watched the soother fall out of his mouth and roll around and around my (obviously sparklingly clean, ahem ahem) dining room floor I remembered: I needed a soother holder, I had no time, I didn’t want to spend $9 on some ribbon and a clip, I sew. I added it up, looked around, saw my beloved sheep-and-black-sheep ribbon roll, some twill tape from a 4-pack of Beau’s beer and a sports lanyard of my husband’s.

I knew what I had to do.

The clip from the lanyard was quickly cut off, the ribbon sized up against Gene’s (unaturally, hilariously long) torso, the twill tape turned inside-out so as to appear plain and un-beer-related. I sewed, I came up with this:

It works like a charm and I got compliments all over the airport. Notes to future travelling self: 1. shoulda brought an order form, 2. need to take business cards.

… BEING QUIETLY AWESOME FOR YOURSELF!

Sometimes you need to add a little personal-awesome to your ensemble for yourself. A private joke for you. I like love adore Harry Potter.  I must not tell lies. So when I got an awesome faux patent diaper bag just before Gene was born, I knew I had to jazz the lameish logo up a bit. So naturally I sourced a Gryffindor patch and sewed that sucker right over the offending label.

And now I am infinitely cooler as I walk along with my bulging bag. Almost no one has noticed, but I love it. It’s like wearing leopard underwear, privately knowing that you’ve spiced, jazzed, expelliarmused it up a notch!

A pocket full of thoughts …

I love/need to mull things over, weigh thoughts and ideas thoroughly (sometimes that means ad nauseum, I admit it!), check ’em out in different lights, size ‘er up. I don’t have a lot of time for that these days, but I grab my moments, my in-betweens — in bed as I fade out, nursing on the couch, walking to the park, making soup, riding up the stretch of highway between us and Nana&Papa’s house for weekend visits.

Which brings me to:

As mentioned in last Wednesday’s post, I’ve been meditating on simplicity. For me, right now, I think simplifying means not planning too much in a day, a week, a month, something I was practicing when Gene was under 3 months, but since then I’ve shifted into planning/hoping to do too much and often end the day frazzled, thinking I didn’t do enough, frustrated by the unstarted or unfinished projects staring at me with longing eyes. I set myself up for failure every time I plan too much in a day because my natural response to having too many things going is to panic and run for cover, figurative and literal. I stop thinking clearly or being able to prioritize and I just sit on the couch hoping the things I wanted to accomplish will get some of that Disney-princess-story-magic where they do themselves and have a catchy soundtrack and a subliminal message to boot!

So last week I started consciously planning to not plan a whole lot. I do the basics of my stay-at-home-mom day (which is a full-time job, I know I know, I grant that to others in my position but have a hard time feeling legitimate in it myself) and then I choose one thing beyond that that might, just might, get done. And funnily enough, I’ve actually been more effective since it seems this approach has alleviated the flight response. We’ll see if I can keep it up.

I’m consciously working at, reminding myself, to be present in the moment I’m in. It feels a little cringy and trite to write that down. And I am fully aware it’s not original. But it’s exactly what I need to know and practice right now. Actually Being Where I Am — in heart, head, body.

All my life I’ve been a planner, an anticipator. I think and yes, definitely worry, about the mythic “down-the-road” days … the big one for me right now is what happens when the mat leave is up in August? I just don’t know. And the lack of security in the not knowing freaks me out. But then I sabotage the lovely, suspended, necessary time that I am so privileged and deeply glad to have courtesy of this mat leave, particularly because I know so many women that don’t even have the option to have this year of partially-paid mothering. And when I am fully present, I experience such deep satisfaction, in everything really.

Someone wise recently reminded me that as a trained dancer, I’m practiced at being acutely present in the physical moment I’m in as a mover. I am working on translating some of that knowledge from studio to living room.

My 3-year-old is in a creative dance class on Saturday mornings. He loves it, skips down the street, has a buzzing, jumping energy in anticipation. He’s in class with two little friends of his whose moms and I have grown into wonderful friends through our kids. The class is only 45 minutes but we go for coffee during that time and honestly, Saturday coffee with these ladies has been a fantastic anchor point in my quiet maternity-leave life. In a period without a lot of adult-only interaction, I revel in those minutes of catch-up, giggling and gossiping and trading stories. We’ve decided to keep it up once classes are out, because somehow knowing that that visit is set gives the week a marker, a turning point of shared-experience. I must say, I like having a regular ladies-visit in my calendar. I highly recommend.

Last week I got a joyful email on a sunny morning from a lovely friend with the following link she was inspired by. And I think it’s worth sharing. Thanks to the writer Amelia Olson,

Click for the whole thing.

This bit feel particularly relevant, not directly but something that I often sense, and subsequently temper myself because of:
“As a woman, I feel continually shhh’ed.  Too sensitive.  Too mushy.  Too wishy washy. Blah blah.  Don’t let someone steal your tenderness.  Don’t allow the coldness and fear of others to tarnish your perfectly vulnerable beating heart.  Nothing is more powerful than allowing yourself to truly be affected by things.”

I’m going to keep feeling deeply. Cheers.

Quilting challenge to myself

On Friday I talked about how the last week had been an intense, straight-up mothering week and a gong-show as far as anything beyond the needs of the kids went. It’s a new week and I’m hopeful, always hopeful, that I’ll get a bit of my own artist work done.

I’ve given myself a manageable challenge for the year (I think?!), to develop 12 different quilting patterns this year, 1 per month. I’m cheating a bit for January as I designed this one in the fall, but this gets me going! I need a few go-to designs for the quilts and burp pads I’ll be making and think this will be a fun way to tie the projects and the year together. I’m going to make each one on a 6″ x 6″ square and maybe they’ll become a garland for the boys room by December!

Here’s my signature leaf design, gonna try to make the square tomorrow:

If you have a favourite quilt or quilting design, old or new, tell me about it and link an image in the comments, I looooves me quilts and quilting of any kind!

Rearview Fridays: A Felted Marcel!

Here we are at Rearview Friday already! Today I present a recent project, my needle-felted Marcel the Shell with Shoes On. Do you know Marcel? If not, you should check him out immediately as he’s charming beyond words! There’s also a sequel, Marcel the Shell with Shoes On, Two, and a book Marcel the Shell with Shoes On, Things About Me.

Rudi’s dance teacher is also a good friend of mine and in December at the end of his first term as a dance student, I made her a felt Marcel as a  thank you present (I’m a big believer in teacher gifting). I got a needle felting kit from a friend a while ago and I just love it! Needle felting is like painting and sculpting at the same time and it pays off quickly. Plus it’s fun to jam a barbed needle into a hunk of wool over and over til it’s felt, great for letting off frustrations.

This week kicked my behind a bit, strange weather, a family trip to the dentist (Rudi yelled so long and loud they decided to try again in 6 months!) and epic bodily function marathons that went something like this: baby Gene poops through his diaper, then vomits copiously across the space I sleep while I’m getting a wet cloth and a new diaper, now Rudi needs to poop in the toilet but he can’t get his pants undone, okay, Rudi’s pants are off, he’s taking care of business, Gene is now diapered, vomit wiped up, Gene poops again, I wipe him and leave him for 3 minutes of naked bum time thinking, “how much more poop could there be?” (error), Rudi, bless his heart, has peed on the seat and left the water running but at least that means he washed his hands, wipe up pee, turn off tap, back to Gene, he’s peed right over the waterproof mat onto the space where I sleep and pooped on the mat, soak up pee, toss mat in laundry, Gene is diapered again, Rudi is hollering from downstairs about a granola bar, Gene poops again, violently, straight out the back of the new diaper then immediately rolls (his new trick that I don’t yet anticipate) leaving baby-poo streaks where I sleep, now I need to pee, dream of a nap for a moment, remember I need to pump milk so I can teach dance on Saturday morning, open the granola bar, now I’ve forgotten to change the sheets, by the time it’s bed time I really don’t care, so I sleep in the traces of poop and pee and vomit. I probably need a shower.

Now that’s not a complaint, it’s a share that hopefully reminds me and maybe helps someone else to remember about the sometimes-madness of parenthood. There was a lot of laughing and sighing involved, I  just had to surrender to the ridiculousness of the moments and pretty much walked away from all blogging, business planning and actual sewing for the week. That’s part of being where I am right now, and so I laugh, sigh, occasionally cry (though not very often, there’s no time for drama folks!), lie on my back to stretch or “sleep” for 5 minutes when I can and am grateful that other people are honest in conversation and books and on blogs about the merciless pace that comes with young children. Plans, as well laid and measured and modest though they may be, often just go sideways. So I’m side-stepping, doing the grape vine through it all, and a plate or two may break, just sayin’.

Happy weekend, here’s to a cozy, calm weekend. Ha ha (about the calm part anyways).