Unschooling is this amazing concept of child-led learning. There are posts all over the internet about it, so I won't go into a ton of detail about what it is other than this little paragraph:
Unschooling looks different in every family. Some families go on a nature walk every day. Some read a history book and then re-create it in Minecraft. Some kids read at age 4. Some don't read until they're 11. Some teenagers take classes to further develop their skills or to prepare for college. Others dive into volunteering or start their own businesses. The biggest thing I've found that they all have in common, though, is a focus on the family relationships. Learning is done at a more natural pace, as dictated by the child.*
*I don't believe that Unschooling is the same thing as Unparenting. In the best families, there are reasonable limits and guidelines set for the functioning of every day. The difference is that those limits are less often arbitrary as is often dictated by the school system. It is the pace and, to some extent, the content of the learning that is dictated by the child's interest, not the running of everyday life.
It sounds hokey, to be sure, but here are some things I've learned from being an oldest child in an incredibly intelligent family, and then going on to raise 4 very intelligent children of my own:
1. Learning happens most intently, and most intensely, when it is self-directed.
2. Learning can and should happen every day, in all aspects and seasons of life.
3. When learning is mandated, it sucks the joy out of the process for too high a percentage of people.
4. There are gaps in every education. Every. Single. One.
5. Deep interest in one subject can, and often does, branch out into interest in other subjects.
6. When a person needs to learn information, or a skill, they can find a way to learn it.
7. Relationships, especially strong family relationships, are more important than any degree.
8. When a child feels a deep, trusting bond with a mentor, they are more likely to ask questions.
9. Dragging a child through homework when they are not engaged is a great way to destroy relationships.
10. Children learn as much by example as by any other method. Is learning important to them? Of course! So learn! And then, share your love of learning and the ways in which you are growing! This magical formula will do wonders!
11. My college degree was largely supplementary to the skills I have gained by simply living my life.
Unschooling looks ridiculous on paper. I get that.
But consider this:
We all know the school system is broken. Shattered. Borderline abusive, despite the best efforts and intentions of all those connected to it. It's been in existence for hundreds of years. In those many years, there have been probably hundreds of thousands of teachers who have cared for and taught millions of students. The vast majority of those teachers have cared deeply about their students. In addition, there are hundreds, if not thousands, of politicians who have been doing their very best to shore up the holes inherent in any system. They have funneled programs, initiatives, and money into this system, all with the intent of doing the very best they can for the children.
With all of that time and care and intention and money, the system is still vastly flawed and more closely resembles a prison than an institution of growth.
So, if I'm going to bring my children out of the system to educate them at home, why would I try to replicate the system that has so many more resources than I do and is, inevitably, better equipped to educate my kids than I am by that methodology?
If I'm going to keep them home, it makes a lot of sense to break away from the system entirely and do my very best to support and help my little people to grow into the very best versions of them that they could be, and to do so in the very most loving way possible. That picture very rarely includes forcing a child to sit at a desk or table and crying while they fight with material they are not ready for, either mentally or emotionally.
So, I say, go with the flow! Read them stories, give them dedicated time to write or draw, go on field trips, and answer as many of their questions as you can. Expand your own mind, and invite them to stretch themselves. If we ever dip into the realm of shaming, punishing, or forcing our kids to learn, we're missing the point.
It's all about the growth and the joy. Oh, how I believe that! Learning is all about growth and joy!
Thursday, November 2, 2017
Sunday, August 20, 2017
The Nicest Alarm Ever
We all know the struggle. That annoying beeping in the morning wrenches you from the cradle of a delicious sleep. You roll over, slam your hand on the snooze button, and drift back into dreamland for "five more minutes."
Twenty minutes later, you drag yourself out of bed, promising that you'll shower tonight, or tomorrow morning when you'll be able to get up on time.
In an effort to alleviate this problem, we buy music alarm clocks, or alarms that don't shut off until you shoot the target across the room, or weight-activated alarm mats... have you guys seen these awesome variations online? They're awesome.
Mostly, I've given up on getting up at any specific time. I'm a SAHM. I can do that. My kids wake me up for the important stuff- like, "Stop it! Stop touching me! Mom, my two-year-old brother who loves me to pieces is breathing my air!"
But, there are those occasional mornings when I do need an alarm. And so, knowing that I'll ignore it most of the time, I dutifully set the alarm on my phone. I set it to ring with a quiet, gentle tone that will, hopefully, ease me out of the bliss of sleep.
The song starts quietly, building slowly to full volume- which is set to be at about half of the volume at which I normally listen to music. (Have I mentioned I'm not a morning person?)
Then, the music stops, interrupted by a calming, soothing voice. "It's 8 am," she says.
Thank you for the information. I appreciate it.
The music continues. I mostly ignore it, except I know what's coming. My inner grammar nazi claws its way through the haze of sleep, eager to avoid the travesty that's about to occur.
A minute later, the music stops again. Again, that soothing voice, "It's 8-1 am," she informs me politely. Not 8:01. Not even eight-zero-one. "It's 8-1 am."
Gaaaahhhhh!
Stop the madness!
The rest of me jolts awake. I scramble for the button that will turn off my phone. It's not that it's annoying... it's just so very very wrong! And so, I am pulled out of sleep by a deep-seated need to right my world for the day.
It works every time.
I haven't made it past 8-2 am.
Twenty minutes later, you drag yourself out of bed, promising that you'll shower tonight, or tomorrow morning when you'll be able to get up on time.
In an effort to alleviate this problem, we buy music alarm clocks, or alarms that don't shut off until you shoot the target across the room, or weight-activated alarm mats... have you guys seen these awesome variations online? They're awesome.
Mostly, I've given up on getting up at any specific time. I'm a SAHM. I can do that. My kids wake me up for the important stuff- like, "Stop it! Stop touching me! Mom, my two-year-old brother who loves me to pieces is breathing my air!"
But, there are those occasional mornings when I do need an alarm. And so, knowing that I'll ignore it most of the time, I dutifully set the alarm on my phone. I set it to ring with a quiet, gentle tone that will, hopefully, ease me out of the bliss of sleep.
The song starts quietly, building slowly to full volume- which is set to be at about half of the volume at which I normally listen to music. (Have I mentioned I'm not a morning person?)
Then, the music stops, interrupted by a calming, soothing voice. "It's 8 am," she says.
Thank you for the information. I appreciate it.
The music continues. I mostly ignore it, except I know what's coming. My inner grammar nazi claws its way through the haze of sleep, eager to avoid the travesty that's about to occur.
A minute later, the music stops again. Again, that soothing voice, "It's 8-1 am," she informs me politely. Not 8:01. Not even eight-zero-one. "It's 8-1 am."
Gaaaahhhhh!
Stop the madness!
The rest of me jolts awake. I scramble for the button that will turn off my phone. It's not that it's annoying... it's just so very very wrong! And so, I am pulled out of sleep by a deep-seated need to right my world for the day.
It works every time.
I haven't made it past 8-2 am.
Monday, January 9, 2017
Happy Post
Hello, Friends!
This is just a happy little post to say:
Thank you for being my friends!
I just read through my last few posts, and realized they were all super angsty. Apparently, I write more often when I'm upset. Never fear! Life is good! I'm starting to come out of the "new mommy" phase... Baby girl is sleeping through the night, so I'm naturally feeling better.
Also, we have some fun things happening in our lives right now.
First off, I've discovered the Thomas Jefferson methodology of homeschooling, and I'm IN LOVE! It's amazing. It's beautiful. It's so in line with how I think school should be. I'll probably mix in elements of Montessori, Waldorf, and Charlotte Mason, but seriously, they're all about child-led education. Our little family is more at peace than we've been for a long time. That's important, I think.
Second, we're moving! Aaaahhhh! Right now, we're working on getting boxes packed up and hidden away so we can stage the house for pictures... so we can list it for sale this month. Woohoo! We don't know where we're going yet, but we know we need a place that has more space for our family and for my business. Also, we're planning to build an indoor arena. Hallelujah!
Anyway, I hope you're having a wonderful January!
This is just a happy little post to say:
Thank you for being my friends!
I just read through my last few posts, and realized they were all super angsty. Apparently, I write more often when I'm upset. Never fear! Life is good! I'm starting to come out of the "new mommy" phase... Baby girl is sleeping through the night, so I'm naturally feeling better.
Also, we have some fun things happening in our lives right now.
First off, I've discovered the Thomas Jefferson methodology of homeschooling, and I'm IN LOVE! It's amazing. It's beautiful. It's so in line with how I think school should be. I'll probably mix in elements of Montessori, Waldorf, and Charlotte Mason, but seriously, they're all about child-led education. Our little family is more at peace than we've been for a long time. That's important, I think.
Second, we're moving! Aaaahhhh! Right now, we're working on getting boxes packed up and hidden away so we can stage the house for pictures... so we can list it for sale this month. Woohoo! We don't know where we're going yet, but we know we need a place that has more space for our family and for my business. Also, we're planning to build an indoor arena. Hallelujah!
Anyway, I hope you're having a wonderful January!
Monday, October 24, 2016
Fairy Tale Ending
I love a good fairy tale. Cinderella is my favorite, but most romantic comedies leave me feeling gooey inside. The idea of happily ever after is beautiful.
And, I must admit, I have been extremely blessed in the fairy-tale department. Before meeting my husband, I was able to step back from the stories that consume my thoughts and realize that every story is colored by my own expectations and a lot of help from storytellers. Reality inspires the stories, but stories are meant so we can dream; the two rarely match. Partly because of that realization, and partly because I really did marry the best man in the world, my marriage is pretty ideal.
We met, dated, got married, and proceeded with our happily ever after. We expected jobs, kids, trials and triumphs. And, with some unexpected hiccups, and even more unexpected blessings, that's exactly what the last nine years have brought us.
I made a mistake, though.
See, I've never been particularly enamored with children, and before I had my own, I was unable to admit that to myself. At least, not to the degree that I actually felt it.
But, I wanted a family. I believe in family. Family is very important, and children are a part of that. So, when I heard, "It's different with your own kids. You'll love them more than you've ever loved anything," I bought into it. I saw the idyllic pictures of peaceful mothers holding quiet infants, or mostly-naked babies smiling up out of bright flowers, and I believed.
And, for the last 7 years, I've struggled to continue believing. It really has been a struggle. I knew that sleep deprivations would happen. Messes would happen. Whining would happen. I got that, and I've dealt with it, sometimes valiantly, sometimes not. One of the hardest things for me about motherhood, though, is that I rarely feel that inexplicable bond that many mothers report. Being paid in occasional smiles and sticky hugs occasionally makes up for the nastiness that comes with motherhood, but only in the moment in which I am receiving them. The rest of the time? Yeah, motherhood sucks like 90% of that time.
I bought into the fairy tale, and it was a slap in the face when the fairy tale didn't match reality.
Now, just to clarify a few things... my children are fantastic. They are all intelligent, exuberant, and sweet in their own ways. They're confident. They're happy. They're remarkably responsible, given their young ages. I'm well aware that the struggles I'm going through are my own, and not based on the personalities of my little brood.
Also, I love my children. I even feel that love sometimes. Most of the time, the love I have for them looks like the commitment I have to make sure they get fed and clothed. Most of the time, it looks like pretending I have patience for all of the things they can't do. Entirely too often, it looks like hiding in my bedroom, because I can't say anything nice and so I'm choosing to say nothing at all. Sometimes, it looks like sucking it up and playing their games with them. Often, it looks like trying to see them for the people that they are rather than the kids they currently can't help being.
Motherhood is the messiest business I've ever been in. I'm not talking about the tongue-in-cheek, "Oh, you'll miss these days," "It's hard but I wouldn't trade it for anything," type of messy. I'm talking about soul-wrenching, gut twisting, losing all belief in yourself and most of what is good in this world as you clean up yet another puddle of pee type of messy. So, I'm stepping away from the fairy tale. Motherhood is not beautiful. Most of the time, it is not even joyous. But, somehow, buried deep under all the hormones and the laundry and the years and the mac and cheese, it is worthwhile.
Because, while mostly I don't like motherhood, I do have hope. I choose to believe that they will grow up into cool people. I hope that we will all enjoy one another as we grow together. I look forward to the day when we'll be able to play interesting games together, or talk about a book we've all read, or a movie we all enjoy. I have hope that they will grow into self-sufficient people, and that someday we will stand on more even footing.
And, I must admit, I have been extremely blessed in the fairy-tale department. Before meeting my husband, I was able to step back from the stories that consume my thoughts and realize that every story is colored by my own expectations and a lot of help from storytellers. Reality inspires the stories, but stories are meant so we can dream; the two rarely match. Partly because of that realization, and partly because I really did marry the best man in the world, my marriage is pretty ideal.
We met, dated, got married, and proceeded with our happily ever after. We expected jobs, kids, trials and triumphs. And, with some unexpected hiccups, and even more unexpected blessings, that's exactly what the last nine years have brought us.
I made a mistake, though.
See, I've never been particularly enamored with children, and before I had my own, I was unable to admit that to myself. At least, not to the degree that I actually felt it.
But, I wanted a family. I believe in family. Family is very important, and children are a part of that. So, when I heard, "It's different with your own kids. You'll love them more than you've ever loved anything," I bought into it. I saw the idyllic pictures of peaceful mothers holding quiet infants, or mostly-naked babies smiling up out of bright flowers, and I believed.
And, for the last 7 years, I've struggled to continue believing. It really has been a struggle. I knew that sleep deprivations would happen. Messes would happen. Whining would happen. I got that, and I've dealt with it, sometimes valiantly, sometimes not. One of the hardest things for me about motherhood, though, is that I rarely feel that inexplicable bond that many mothers report. Being paid in occasional smiles and sticky hugs occasionally makes up for the nastiness that comes with motherhood, but only in the moment in which I am receiving them. The rest of the time? Yeah, motherhood sucks like 90% of that time.
I bought into the fairy tale, and it was a slap in the face when the fairy tale didn't match reality.
Now, just to clarify a few things... my children are fantastic. They are all intelligent, exuberant, and sweet in their own ways. They're confident. They're happy. They're remarkably responsible, given their young ages. I'm well aware that the struggles I'm going through are my own, and not based on the personalities of my little brood.
Also, I love my children. I even feel that love sometimes. Most of the time, the love I have for them looks like the commitment I have to make sure they get fed and clothed. Most of the time, it looks like pretending I have patience for all of the things they can't do. Entirely too often, it looks like hiding in my bedroom, because I can't say anything nice and so I'm choosing to say nothing at all. Sometimes, it looks like sucking it up and playing their games with them. Often, it looks like trying to see them for the people that they are rather than the kids they currently can't help being.
Motherhood is the messiest business I've ever been in. I'm not talking about the tongue-in-cheek, "Oh, you'll miss these days," "It's hard but I wouldn't trade it for anything," type of messy. I'm talking about soul-wrenching, gut twisting, losing all belief in yourself and most of what is good in this world as you clean up yet another puddle of pee type of messy. So, I'm stepping away from the fairy tale. Motherhood is not beautiful. Most of the time, it is not even joyous. But, somehow, buried deep under all the hormones and the laundry and the years and the mac and cheese, it is worthwhile.
Because, while mostly I don't like motherhood, I do have hope. I choose to believe that they will grow up into cool people. I hope that we will all enjoy one another as we grow together. I look forward to the day when we'll be able to play interesting games together, or talk about a book we've all read, or a movie we all enjoy. I have hope that they will grow into self-sufficient people, and that someday we will stand on more even footing.
Tuesday, October 4, 2016
The Repeating Years
Childhood is a magical time. Kids change so quickly in so many ways... especially in retrospect. It seems like two months ago that we brought home our first sweet baby girl. She turned 7 this year. I honestly don't remember much about the intervening years, except to say that our babies are no longer babies.
Well, except the one, but we really did bring her home 2 short months ago. (It's funny how the first two months of a baby's life fly by soooooo much faster than the last two months of pregnancy!)
Overall, things are going very well. For one thing, baby 4 is only waking up once each night, which means that life is returning to some semblance of normalcy. For another, I am feeling so much better than I was two months ago it's almost ridiculous. I still can't take normal-size steps because of pain in my hips, but even with that, I can move! It's beautiful.
And so, it's time to start putting our lives back in order. I need to keep up with the laundry, do the dishes, make sure everybody gets enough food each day and at least one bath per week. Beyond that, I'd really like to do a little deep cleaning every day... just to make our house feel livable again.
Here's how a typical day goes:
Wake up in the middle of the night to feed the baby.
Wake up, bleary-eyed, earlier than I'd like (given the night feeding) to feed the baby again.
Thank my lucky stars that my husband is good at mornings and takes care of the kids before work.
Take a nap after baby eats, and hope it makes up for the night feeding. (It usually doesn't, but it helps.)
Get up and get dressed.
Change a diaper.
Get food for myself.
Remind kids to work on school.
Eat.
Get lunch for kids.
Work on dishes while they eat.
Remind kids to work on school.
Change a diaper.
Work on laundry.
Remind kids to work on school.
Work on cleaning up the table in the front room.
Correct school work.
Continue to work on cleaning up the table in the front room.
Correct school work again.
"Yes, you can go outside. You should probably put on a sweatshirt; it's cold outside."
"I don't know where your shoes are. Where did you put them?"
"You should put your sweatshirt on."
"Because it's cold outside."
"Where did you put your shoes when you took them off?"
"Didn't you just get water?"
"Yes, it's a good idea to go to the bathroom before you go outside."
"You're going to be cold if you don't put on your sweatshirt."
"Because the weather is getting colder outside."
Try to work on the table some more. (Didn't I get this cleaned off two days ago?)
"You need another drink of water?"
"Yes, by all means, please go to the bathroom."
"I told you you needed a sweatshirt. It's cold outside, right?"
"JUST GO OUTSIDE ALREADY!!!"
Work on laundry.
Change a diaper.
Feed the baby.
Burp the baby.
"Oh, your shoes were outside? That's no good. I'm glad you found them."
Put the baby down for a nap and hope that she sleeps.
Turn back to the blasted table.
Turn back around and pick the baby back up.
Give up on the day because the baby won't let me do anything else.
Stupid table still needs attention.
Laundry is piled all over my bedroom, but at least I've made some progress.
Guess what I'm doing tomorrow?
Childhood is supposedly a magical time... for the children. :) I find that the simple tasks I would like to get out of the way so I can enjoy my life become infinitely more difficult and time-consuming with small children running around. Conversations take infinitely longer. Tasks must be repeated 12 times before they can be considered done, because curious and exuberant children undo them just so fast.
Super-moms, how do you do it?
Sincerely,
Drowning in a never-ending mess
Well, except the one, but we really did bring her home 2 short months ago. (It's funny how the first two months of a baby's life fly by soooooo much faster than the last two months of pregnancy!)
Overall, things are going very well. For one thing, baby 4 is only waking up once each night, which means that life is returning to some semblance of normalcy. For another, I am feeling so much better than I was two months ago it's almost ridiculous. I still can't take normal-size steps because of pain in my hips, but even with that, I can move! It's beautiful.
And so, it's time to start putting our lives back in order. I need to keep up with the laundry, do the dishes, make sure everybody gets enough food each day and at least one bath per week. Beyond that, I'd really like to do a little deep cleaning every day... just to make our house feel livable again.
Here's how a typical day goes:
Wake up in the middle of the night to feed the baby.
Wake up, bleary-eyed, earlier than I'd like (given the night feeding) to feed the baby again.
Thank my lucky stars that my husband is good at mornings and takes care of the kids before work.
Take a nap after baby eats, and hope it makes up for the night feeding. (It usually doesn't, but it helps.)
Get up and get dressed.
Change a diaper.
Get food for myself.
Remind kids to work on school.
Eat.
Get lunch for kids.
Work on dishes while they eat.
Remind kids to work on school.
Change a diaper.
Work on laundry.
Remind kids to work on school.
Work on cleaning up the table in the front room.
Correct school work.
Continue to work on cleaning up the table in the front room.
Correct school work again.
"Yes, you can go outside. You should probably put on a sweatshirt; it's cold outside."
"I don't know where your shoes are. Where did you put them?"
"You should put your sweatshirt on."
"Because it's cold outside."
"Where did you put your shoes when you took them off?"
"Didn't you just get water?"
"Yes, it's a good idea to go to the bathroom before you go outside."
"You're going to be cold if you don't put on your sweatshirt."
"Because the weather is getting colder outside."
Try to work on the table some more. (Didn't I get this cleaned off two days ago?)
"You need another drink of water?"
"Yes, by all means, please go to the bathroom."
"I told you you needed a sweatshirt. It's cold outside, right?"
"JUST GO OUTSIDE ALREADY!!!"
Work on laundry.
Change a diaper.
Feed the baby.
Burp the baby.
"Oh, your shoes were outside? That's no good. I'm glad you found them."
Put the baby down for a nap and hope that she sleeps.
Turn back to the blasted table.
Turn back around and pick the baby back up.
Give up on the day because the baby won't let me do anything else.
Stupid table still needs attention.
Laundry is piled all over my bedroom, but at least I've made some progress.
Guess what I'm doing tomorrow?
Childhood is supposedly a magical time... for the children. :) I find that the simple tasks I would like to get out of the way so I can enjoy my life become infinitely more difficult and time-consuming with small children running around. Conversations take infinitely longer. Tasks must be repeated 12 times before they can be considered done, because curious and exuberant children undo them just so fast.
Super-moms, how do you do it?
Sincerely,
Drowning in a never-ending mess
Friday, June 10, 2016
The Maternity Life
Baby number 4.
I swore I wouldn't deal with the last stages of pregnancy in the summer anymore. I think I've made myself that promise 3 times now.
But, here I am, 33 years old, in the middle of June, with two months left to go in this pregnancy.
And, because I'm not sure if there will be a baby number 5, I am making some concessions to pregnant life.
First and foremost, I am turning the AC down as much as I want and freezing my family out. :)
Second, I bought myself two huge non-maternity dresses that fit very comfortably over my expanding belly. (Hopefully, I can still wear them after baby comes, at least for a little while.)
Third, on the days when I don't feel good, I'm giving myself a pass. Last time around, my feet swelled up to 3 times their normal size and were sore for months. This time? I'm letting myself put my feet up for hours at a time.
Fourth, I've decided that it's okay to not get all the things done that I need to do. Or, if I really do need to get them done, I can take several days, if that's all my energy allows.
Fifth, I'm pretty sure that if we do have another baby, I'll need to hire somebody to help me clean my house and play with my kids for the duration of the pregnancy.
And... it's nice. I feel a little guilty for taking so much me-time, but I also know I'll only have another couple of months of this, and then life will pick up steam again.
So, because I'm avoiding cameras like the plague, please picture me, lounging on my couch, feet up, surrounded by children's toys, clad in a bright pink nightgown-shaped dress, hair in a messy bun, sipping juice, watching Gilmore Girls, and smiling every so slightly as life passes me by.
I swore I wouldn't deal with the last stages of pregnancy in the summer anymore. I think I've made myself that promise 3 times now.
But, here I am, 33 years old, in the middle of June, with two months left to go in this pregnancy.
And, because I'm not sure if there will be a baby number 5, I am making some concessions to pregnant life.
First and foremost, I am turning the AC down as much as I want and freezing my family out. :)
Second, I bought myself two huge non-maternity dresses that fit very comfortably over my expanding belly. (Hopefully, I can still wear them after baby comes, at least for a little while.)
Third, on the days when I don't feel good, I'm giving myself a pass. Last time around, my feet swelled up to 3 times their normal size and were sore for months. This time? I'm letting myself put my feet up for hours at a time.
Fourth, I've decided that it's okay to not get all the things done that I need to do. Or, if I really do need to get them done, I can take several days, if that's all my energy allows.
Fifth, I'm pretty sure that if we do have another baby, I'll need to hire somebody to help me clean my house and play with my kids for the duration of the pregnancy.
And... it's nice. I feel a little guilty for taking so much me-time, but I also know I'll only have another couple of months of this, and then life will pick up steam again.
So, because I'm avoiding cameras like the plague, please picture me, lounging on my couch, feet up, surrounded by children's toys, clad in a bright pink nightgown-shaped dress, hair in a messy bun, sipping juice, watching Gilmore Girls, and smiling every so slightly as life passes me by.
Monday, May 2, 2016
Mommy Feelings
Mother's Day is coming up.
This day always brings me mixed feelings. On the one hand, I picture beautiful spring days, lovely flowers, occasional jewelry, and mothers sharing smiles and cookies and swings with their beautiful, clean children.
On the other hand, I see my actual perception of mothers everywhere: Guilt-ridden, overwhelmed, frazzled, short-fused, ticking time bombs.
In my head, bouquets and hallmark cards and beautiful necklaces are delivered with breakfast in bed on tiptoe and with trembling fingers because of tradition and long-suffering husbands and because, "If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." So, darn it, we better show that we appreciate Mother because if we don't, all hell will break loose.
Every year, I hear how sacred a calling Motherhood is. I hear about the sacrifices mothers make. I hear about beautiful traditions and sweet moments. Every year, I hear about all the honor and love that is due to mothers, simply because they are who they are.
And then, I think about how I have to be a tyrant to my little boy, because at 5 years old, he can't remember the simple instruction to keep his hand off his crotch, despite repeated reminders for over a year. I think about the last time I yelled at my children for something I think they should already understand. I think about how pretty much all mothers go through this same thing, and it's ugly and messy and leaves you feeling like a mangy dog that just lost a fight.
I blame us. I blame the mothers. Of course bringing life into the world is important. Of course doing your best to raise your children well is important. At the very least, I tell myself, I try to make sure my children get enough food, and I don't beat them, and they're learning some good principles. I hope. Somewhere, stuck in between the cracks of my tantrums.
But it's our fault that we let ourselves get caught in the frustration. It's our fault when we don't always control our emotions and actions. It's our fault, because children are innocent and sweet and should never be hurt in any way, right? Shouldn't we have more of those commercial-worthy moments, with the bubbles and the walks through the park?
I saw a graph the other day that showed that what mothers primarily want for Mother's Day is chocolate. Flowers and silence also made the list.
Silence sounds good. Climbing into a hole with blankets and a book also sounds good. An assurance that my kids will someday grow up and not scream at me when they're unhappy sounds nice, too. A team of people who could come in and clean my house top-to-bottom would be truly lovely. I literally don't remember the last time I cleaned either of our bathrooms.
Being able to be nice to the people I love because I'm not constantly worried about what they're doing would be lovely.
Having the ability to share my hobbies with my kids without having to stop every 5 minutes to wipe away tears, get yet another stupid drink of water or change another diaper would be awesome.
Remembering that I'm a person. Am I still? I'm pretty sure I'm just a momster. We all are. Every mother out there succumbs at some point, and then it's just a downward spiral.
Do I like being a mother? Very rarely. Do I regret becoming a mother? Also very rarely.
Stupid, stupid time of life.
I don't not regret becoming a mother because of the beauty of it. Or those cute little snuggles. Or those sweet little moments when things do go right. I guess... I feel the importance of it in an eternal sense. I feel the worth of these little souls in my charge.
And, I don't know a lot, but I do have a few of the important things figured out. So, while I truly am a momster, at least I can sigh and do my best to pass on those bits of knowledge that I do have and, hopefully, get them pointed in some semblance of the right direction without confusing them too much.
But can I skip Mother's Day this year? Blech.
This day always brings me mixed feelings. On the one hand, I picture beautiful spring days, lovely flowers, occasional jewelry, and mothers sharing smiles and cookies and swings with their beautiful, clean children.
On the other hand, I see my actual perception of mothers everywhere: Guilt-ridden, overwhelmed, frazzled, short-fused, ticking time bombs.
In my head, bouquets and hallmark cards and beautiful necklaces are delivered with breakfast in bed on tiptoe and with trembling fingers because of tradition and long-suffering husbands and because, "If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." So, darn it, we better show that we appreciate Mother because if we don't, all hell will break loose.
Every year, I hear how sacred a calling Motherhood is. I hear about the sacrifices mothers make. I hear about beautiful traditions and sweet moments. Every year, I hear about all the honor and love that is due to mothers, simply because they are who they are.
And then, I think about how I have to be a tyrant to my little boy, because at 5 years old, he can't remember the simple instruction to keep his hand off his crotch, despite repeated reminders for over a year. I think about the last time I yelled at my children for something I think they should already understand. I think about how pretty much all mothers go through this same thing, and it's ugly and messy and leaves you feeling like a mangy dog that just lost a fight.
I blame us. I blame the mothers. Of course bringing life into the world is important. Of course doing your best to raise your children well is important. At the very least, I tell myself, I try to make sure my children get enough food, and I don't beat them, and they're learning some good principles. I hope. Somewhere, stuck in between the cracks of my tantrums.
But it's our fault that we let ourselves get caught in the frustration. It's our fault when we don't always control our emotions and actions. It's our fault, because children are innocent and sweet and should never be hurt in any way, right? Shouldn't we have more of those commercial-worthy moments, with the bubbles and the walks through the park?
I saw a graph the other day that showed that what mothers primarily want for Mother's Day is chocolate. Flowers and silence also made the list.
Silence sounds good. Climbing into a hole with blankets and a book also sounds good. An assurance that my kids will someday grow up and not scream at me when they're unhappy sounds nice, too. A team of people who could come in and clean my house top-to-bottom would be truly lovely. I literally don't remember the last time I cleaned either of our bathrooms.
Being able to be nice to the people I love because I'm not constantly worried about what they're doing would be lovely.
Having the ability to share my hobbies with my kids without having to stop every 5 minutes to wipe away tears, get yet another stupid drink of water or change another diaper would be awesome.
Remembering that I'm a person. Am I still? I'm pretty sure I'm just a momster. We all are. Every mother out there succumbs at some point, and then it's just a downward spiral.
Do I like being a mother? Very rarely. Do I regret becoming a mother? Also very rarely.
Stupid, stupid time of life.
I don't not regret becoming a mother because of the beauty of it. Or those cute little snuggles. Or those sweet little moments when things do go right. I guess... I feel the importance of it in an eternal sense. I feel the worth of these little souls in my charge.
And, I don't know a lot, but I do have a few of the important things figured out. So, while I truly am a momster, at least I can sigh and do my best to pass on those bits of knowledge that I do have and, hopefully, get them pointed in some semblance of the right direction without confusing them too much.
But can I skip Mother's Day this year? Blech.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
On Broadway
Kids come up with the most amazing games. They also come up with amazing ways to manipulate their Momma. Check out this game:
I give them lunch, then proceed to work on cleaning the kitchen while they eat.
They say thank you for lunch.
I say, "You're welcome," while still focusing on dishes.
They repeat, "Thank you."
I want to encourage them to say thank you, so I respond with a polite, "You're welcome."
Then they get louder. "Thank you!"
I match their volume. "You're welcome!"
They vary the pattern a bit. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
This is becoming routine. And I have dishes to focus on. "You're welcome, you're welcome, you're welcome!"
They try whispering. "Thank you."
I unconciously whisper back. "You're welcome."
Then they sing. "Thank you."
I sing. "You're welcome."
That's the best one yet. They sing louder. "Thank you!"
I can play that game. "You're welcome!"
Oh, singing is lots of fun! "Thaaaaaaaaaaaank yooooooooooouuuu!"
I'm starting to get into the spirit of things now. "Yoooooooooo're WEEEEEEEEEEELcooooooooooome!"
Before I know it, I'm mimicking the music from Phantom of the Opera while holding a dishrag. I finally realize what has been going on, and where it has led me, and thank my lucky stars that nobody was there to hear me.
I love my kids.
P.S. They love this game, and now try to get me to play whenever they can.
P.P.S. Our next performance is tomorrow at lunchtime, should you care to drop by!
I give them lunch, then proceed to work on cleaning the kitchen while they eat.
They say thank you for lunch.
I say, "You're welcome," while still focusing on dishes.
They repeat, "Thank you."
I want to encourage them to say thank you, so I respond with a polite, "You're welcome."
Then they get louder. "Thank you!"
I match their volume. "You're welcome!"
They vary the pattern a bit. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
This is becoming routine. And I have dishes to focus on. "You're welcome, you're welcome, you're welcome!"
They try whispering. "Thank you."
I unconciously whisper back. "You're welcome."
Then they sing. "Thank you."
I sing. "You're welcome."
That's the best one yet. They sing louder. "Thank you!"
I can play that game. "You're welcome!"
Oh, singing is lots of fun! "Thaaaaaaaaaaaank yooooooooooouuuu!"
I'm starting to get into the spirit of things now. "Yoooooooooo're WEEEEEEEEEEELcooooooooooome!"
Before I know it, I'm mimicking the music from Phantom of the Opera while holding a dishrag. I finally realize what has been going on, and where it has led me, and thank my lucky stars that nobody was there to hear me.
I love my kids.
P.S. They love this game, and now try to get me to play whenever they can.
P.P.S. Our next performance is tomorrow at lunchtime, should you care to drop by!
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Curly Girl
Friends, I'm a curly girl. It's a new thing. It's also... a whole lot of fun. And, since I mentioned it in the last post and got a lot of interest, I'm going to post a very quick, Chelsea-style tutorial.
First, I'm going to recommend you read the book Curly Girl, because it's awesome and gives a lot more tips and tricks than I know off-hand.
The HOOK:
Do you have curly hair? Do you think you have curly hair? Is your hair pretty when it's wet and frizzy when it dries? Do you worry about anything ever touching your hair after you've gotten it perfect because you'll have to get it wet and re-style it to make it look decent again? Do you wear hats, braids, and ponytails to tame the mop that is your hair? You, my friend, might be a curly girl!
The THEORY:
Curls are, naturally, very dry. That's just the way they're built. And, almost everything we do to them is damaging. Straightening, blow-drying, going for a walk outside in the sunshine, going for a walk outside in the wind... everything dries it out and damages it. That often makes hair look straight when it's actually curly. So, we moisturize!
The DON'Ts:
-Shampoo is a no-no. Even the gentle stuff will give you frizz that is virtually unmanageable.
-Brushing your hair will only separate your curls and you will end up with, that's right, more frizz.
-This is a soft no, because blow-drying can give you a softer, bigger, bouncier look than air drying. I like it, but blow-drying curls just adds to the damage.
The DOs:
-Condition your hair. A lot.
-Towel-dry your hair, and let it air-dry periodically.
-Consider doing a deep-treatment to your hair once a week or so. I'm still experimenting with things like mayonnaise and olive oil, but do some research and set aside thirty minutes of you time with your hair up in a shower cap getting infused with moisture.
The METHOD:
-When you first get in the shower, let your head hang back and just let water run through your hair for a couple minutes, like being in a waterfall. Don't touch your head yet. Just let your hair get wet.
-Then, using your fingers, gently massage your scalp. Try not to disrupt your curls; just agitate all of your skin for a couple minutes to loosen any oils and dirt that may be trapped there. Rinse your hair.
-Once or twice a week, massage your head with conditioner and rinse out, just to help loosen oils and keep your scalp from getting too dry.
-Then, apply conditioner. Put a small dollop in the middle of your palm, rub it between your hands, and smooth it over the top of your hair. Pay special attention to the very top of your head. Don't massage it in, just smooth over the top. If you need more conditioner, feel free to use it. Make sure you cover the "canopy" of your hair with conditioner. Put another small dollop of conditioner in your hand, rub it between your hands, and work it through the bottom and underside of your hair. I usually flip all my hair to one side, condition the bottom, then flip it over to the other side, and repeat with more conditioner. (But then, I have a LOT of hair.) I also apply a little bit more to the sides of my hair.
-As you are conditioning, gently finger-comb through your hair. This is where you get out all the tangles and make sure the conditioner is evenly distributed. You will lose some hairs in this process, but that's normal. You typically lose about 100 hairs a day anyway. As you are finger-combing, your hair should feel like wet seaweed. You can put your hair under the faucet for a couple seconds if needed to help evenly distribute the conditioner. I usually don't.
-Don't rinse out the conditioner. It becomes your moisturizer and your product all in one. (That part weirded me out at first. I can accept not shampooing my hair, but then not even rinsing out the conditioner? Crazy. I tell you what though, it works!)
-Don't wring out your hair. I usually flip it over upside down while I'm still in the shower and scrunch it a bit just to encourage the curl.
-When you get out of the shower, towel it dry. (I actually use an old t-shirt I cut up, because it helps reduce frizz.) Don't rub it, or squeeze it. Treat your curls delicately! Instead, flip your hair upside down and, starting at the tips, scrunch your hair up toward your head with the towel. Flip your hair to either side and do the same thing. Then, leave them alone for a few minutes while you get dressed.
-The book says to use a little bit of gel at this point, scrunched up into your curls the same way you towel-dried it. I found I didn't like the gel so much; it just made my hair heavy. Feel free to experiment with different products and methods. Different hair likes different stuff!
TIPS AND TRICKS:
-If you blow-dry your hair, make sure to use a diffuser, and blow-dry from the bottem up, scrunching it with your blow-drier the same way you did with your towel. (There are a bunch of videos on you-tube that will show you how to do this.)
-Curly hair looks better with a bit of volume on top. I was always afraid of volume, because my hair is naturally so big, but since going curly, I've started to encourage the roots to lift a bit more by flipping my hair upside-down or sticking a couple of claw clips in the top just to lift it as it dries. Maybe that's where I should use the gel... on my roots! Oooh....
-This process takes a couple of weeks to really start to look good. You'll notice a difference in the first day or two, but give your hair time to heal. Expect to have awesome hair in 2-3 weeks.
-Layers can look AWESOME with curly hair!
-The first few days are a little weird, and you do have to do some experimenting with what your hair likes best, but seriously, this is the easiest, most worry-free, most fun, best way I've ever styled my hair.
Good luck and have fun!
First, I'm going to recommend you read the book Curly Girl, because it's awesome and gives a lot more tips and tricks than I know off-hand.
The HOOK:
Do you have curly hair? Do you think you have curly hair? Is your hair pretty when it's wet and frizzy when it dries? Do you worry about anything ever touching your hair after you've gotten it perfect because you'll have to get it wet and re-style it to make it look decent again? Do you wear hats, braids, and ponytails to tame the mop that is your hair? You, my friend, might be a curly girl!
The THEORY:
Curls are, naturally, very dry. That's just the way they're built. And, almost everything we do to them is damaging. Straightening, blow-drying, going for a walk outside in the sunshine, going for a walk outside in the wind... everything dries it out and damages it. That often makes hair look straight when it's actually curly. So, we moisturize!
The DON'Ts:
-Shampoo is a no-no. Even the gentle stuff will give you frizz that is virtually unmanageable.
-Brushing your hair will only separate your curls and you will end up with, that's right, more frizz.
-This is a soft no, because blow-drying can give you a softer, bigger, bouncier look than air drying. I like it, but blow-drying curls just adds to the damage.
The DOs:
-Condition your hair. A lot.
-Towel-dry your hair, and let it air-dry periodically.
-Consider doing a deep-treatment to your hair once a week or so. I'm still experimenting with things like mayonnaise and olive oil, but do some research and set aside thirty minutes of you time with your hair up in a shower cap getting infused with moisture.
The METHOD:
-When you first get in the shower, let your head hang back and just let water run through your hair for a couple minutes, like being in a waterfall. Don't touch your head yet. Just let your hair get wet.
-Then, using your fingers, gently massage your scalp. Try not to disrupt your curls; just agitate all of your skin for a couple minutes to loosen any oils and dirt that may be trapped there. Rinse your hair.
-Once or twice a week, massage your head with conditioner and rinse out, just to help loosen oils and keep your scalp from getting too dry.
-Then, apply conditioner. Put a small dollop in the middle of your palm, rub it between your hands, and smooth it over the top of your hair. Pay special attention to the very top of your head. Don't massage it in, just smooth over the top. If you need more conditioner, feel free to use it. Make sure you cover the "canopy" of your hair with conditioner. Put another small dollop of conditioner in your hand, rub it between your hands, and work it through the bottom and underside of your hair. I usually flip all my hair to one side, condition the bottom, then flip it over to the other side, and repeat with more conditioner. (But then, I have a LOT of hair.) I also apply a little bit more to the sides of my hair.
-As you are conditioning, gently finger-comb through your hair. This is where you get out all the tangles and make sure the conditioner is evenly distributed. You will lose some hairs in this process, but that's normal. You typically lose about 100 hairs a day anyway. As you are finger-combing, your hair should feel like wet seaweed. You can put your hair under the faucet for a couple seconds if needed to help evenly distribute the conditioner. I usually don't.
-Don't rinse out the conditioner. It becomes your moisturizer and your product all in one. (That part weirded me out at first. I can accept not shampooing my hair, but then not even rinsing out the conditioner? Crazy. I tell you what though, it works!)
-Don't wring out your hair. I usually flip it over upside down while I'm still in the shower and scrunch it a bit just to encourage the curl.
-When you get out of the shower, towel it dry. (I actually use an old t-shirt I cut up, because it helps reduce frizz.) Don't rub it, or squeeze it. Treat your curls delicately! Instead, flip your hair upside down and, starting at the tips, scrunch your hair up toward your head with the towel. Flip your hair to either side and do the same thing. Then, leave them alone for a few minutes while you get dressed.
-The book says to use a little bit of gel at this point, scrunched up into your curls the same way you towel-dried it. I found I didn't like the gel so much; it just made my hair heavy. Feel free to experiment with different products and methods. Different hair likes different stuff!
TIPS AND TRICKS:
-If you blow-dry your hair, make sure to use a diffuser, and blow-dry from the bottem up, scrunching it with your blow-drier the same way you did with your towel. (There are a bunch of videos on you-tube that will show you how to do this.)
-Curly hair looks better with a bit of volume on top. I was always afraid of volume, because my hair is naturally so big, but since going curly, I've started to encourage the roots to lift a bit more by flipping my hair upside-down or sticking a couple of claw clips in the top just to lift it as it dries. Maybe that's where I should use the gel... on my roots! Oooh....
-This process takes a couple of weeks to really start to look good. You'll notice a difference in the first day or two, but give your hair time to heal. Expect to have awesome hair in 2-3 weeks.
-Layers can look AWESOME with curly hair!
-The first few days are a little weird, and you do have to do some experimenting with what your hair likes best, but seriously, this is the easiest, most worry-free, most fun, best way I've ever styled my hair.
Good luck and have fun!
Friday, January 4, 2013
New Year's Resolutions
Hello, all!
Happy New Year!
Hope it's been a good one, so far.
I've had a good one, mostly because we made a turkey dinner for New Year's Eve and I've still got leftovers in the fridge. Turkey sandwiches are my favorite. :)
Also, I have curly hair.
(Don't worry, that last bit was completely unrelated. Although...)
Since we're on the topic, can I tell you about having curly hair? It's pretty awesome.
See, I've always known I had curly hair, but I had no idea what to do with it. It should have been very pretty. Instead, it was frizzy. Unless, of course, I went a day or two without washing it, at which point it became smooth and shiny and straight. That was always fun. And a little gross.
Then, I stopped washing my hair altogether, and it turned super curly and pretty and fun!
Well, that's not entirely true. I also stopped brushing my hair.
There you have it. The secret to curly hair is not washing it or brushing it.
And using a ton of conditioner.
Water + Conditioner - shampoo - brushes and combs = fun, shiny, bouncy, easy easy easy curls.
Welcome to the new year!
:) :) :)
Oh, right. I was supposed to talk about New Year's resolutions.
Typically, I don't believe in them. In fact, I still don't believe in them. Too arbitrary.
However, I have a new goal, which happens to coincide with the New Year, so I'll fudge on a technicality.
This year, I'm going to take pictures. Hopefully, there will be lots of them. Then, once a month, I'll get them printed off. Then, I'll stick them, unceremoniously and un-craftily, into a picture box. The end.
There will be very little editing, little-to-no captioning, and no cutting or glueing. Print and stuff, baby. It may not be much, but in 20 years, I'll be thrilled to have tons of pictures to look through.
This bit of brilliance was my Mom's doing. Thanks, Mom!
Also, I want a puppy. Does anyone else want a puppy?
Happy New Year!
What are you not resolving to do this year?
Happy New Year!
Hope it's been a good one, so far.
I've had a good one, mostly because we made a turkey dinner for New Year's Eve and I've still got leftovers in the fridge. Turkey sandwiches are my favorite. :)
Also, I have curly hair.
(Don't worry, that last bit was completely unrelated. Although...)
Since we're on the topic, can I tell you about having curly hair? It's pretty awesome.
See, I've always known I had curly hair, but I had no idea what to do with it. It should have been very pretty. Instead, it was frizzy. Unless, of course, I went a day or two without washing it, at which point it became smooth and shiny and straight. That was always fun. And a little gross.
Then, I stopped washing my hair altogether, and it turned super curly and pretty and fun!
Well, that's not entirely true. I also stopped brushing my hair.
There you have it. The secret to curly hair is not washing it or brushing it.
And using a ton of conditioner.
Water + Conditioner - shampoo - brushes and combs = fun, shiny, bouncy, easy easy easy curls.
Welcome to the new year!
:) :) :)
Oh, right. I was supposed to talk about New Year's resolutions.
Typically, I don't believe in them. In fact, I still don't believe in them. Too arbitrary.
However, I have a new goal, which happens to coincide with the New Year, so I'll fudge on a technicality.
This year, I'm going to take pictures. Hopefully, there will be lots of them. Then, once a month, I'll get them printed off. Then, I'll stick them, unceremoniously and un-craftily, into a picture box. The end.
There will be very little editing, little-to-no captioning, and no cutting or glueing. Print and stuff, baby. It may not be much, but in 20 years, I'll be thrilled to have tons of pictures to look through.
This bit of brilliance was my Mom's doing. Thanks, Mom!
Also, I want a puppy. Does anyone else want a puppy?
Happy New Year!
What are you not resolving to do this year?
Monday, November 19, 2012
An Unfair and Almost Blasphemous Indictment
Moms are scary.
To this day, I am scared of them.
And I'm scared of being one of them.
We all know the joke: "Oh, no, I'm becoming my mother!" and "I swore I'd never do that to my kids... I hated it when my parents did it to me, but there I was, a mirror image of my mother."
I am currently reading a book called "How to Hug a Porcupine." It's a great book, and talks about the art of loving difficult and toxic personalities. The big thing it focuses on is criticism. It warns against "parenting" people with the words "should," "need," and "ought." This advice makes so much sense to me, and I truly try to stay away from anything that looks like parenting with most people.
Of course, the question arises, "How do we effectively and kindly parent our children while still showing them respect as individuals?"
And then, a deeper question haunts me. We need to parent our children. They need anywhere from 10-1000 corrections per day. "You need to get dressed, now. No, now." "Please just eat your food; don't play with it." "This letter comes next in the alphabet." "Don't hit your brother." "Play with something else." I understand the need to let children make mistakes and learn from the natural consequences that come. I try really really hard to give them the space to do that. But still, they need direction and guidance. How, when my job is to correct people so often, each and every day for weeks and months and years and years and years, do I keep from being a toxic mom? A toxic person? How on earth can I be loving to my kids? To my husband? To myself, when I fear and hate so much of what I have to do to help other people?
Care to weigh in?
To this day, I am scared of them.
And I'm scared of being one of them.
We all know the joke: "Oh, no, I'm becoming my mother!" and "I swore I'd never do that to my kids... I hated it when my parents did it to me, but there I was, a mirror image of my mother."
I am currently reading a book called "How to Hug a Porcupine." It's a great book, and talks about the art of loving difficult and toxic personalities. The big thing it focuses on is criticism. It warns against "parenting" people with the words "should," "need," and "ought." This advice makes so much sense to me, and I truly try to stay away from anything that looks like parenting with most people.
Of course, the question arises, "How do we effectively and kindly parent our children while still showing them respect as individuals?"
And then, a deeper question haunts me. We need to parent our children. They need anywhere from 10-1000 corrections per day. "You need to get dressed, now. No, now." "Please just eat your food; don't play with it." "This letter comes next in the alphabet." "Don't hit your brother." "Play with something else." I understand the need to let children make mistakes and learn from the natural consequences that come. I try really really hard to give them the space to do that. But still, they need direction and guidance. How, when my job is to correct people so often, each and every day for weeks and months and years and years and years, do I keep from being a toxic mom? A toxic person? How on earth can I be loving to my kids? To my husband? To myself, when I fear and hate so much of what I have to do to help other people?
Care to weigh in?
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Falling
Summer cries. Its tears stream down in late afternoon temper tantrums, spending the last of its scorching energy.
Then it fades.
The world settles.
The sun rises lower in the sky.
Ever so slowly, the seasons change.
A leaf begins to die, turning a lively yellow, saluting the sun.
Whole mountains turn red, and a chill moves perceptibly down into the earth.
Darkness becomes a blanket, a presence, a whole world of stars and breath and prayer.
Creatures begin to hide in thicker coats and deeper homes and hoarded food.
In a last farewell, the land covers itself in crimson, gold, and copper.
And, with a last breath and sigh, the summer fades.
Softly, ever so softly, Autumn falls.
With snow, and spices,
the world settles.
It sleeps.
Then it fades.
The world settles.
The sun rises lower in the sky.
Ever so slowly, the seasons change.
A leaf begins to die, turning a lively yellow, saluting the sun.
Whole mountains turn red, and a chill moves perceptibly down into the earth.
Darkness becomes a blanket, a presence, a whole world of stars and breath and prayer.
Creatures begin to hide in thicker coats and deeper homes and hoarded food.
In a last farewell, the land covers itself in crimson, gold, and copper.
And, with a last breath and sigh, the summer fades.
Softly, ever so softly, Autumn falls.
With snow, and spices,
the world settles.
It sleeps.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Facebook Official
Last week, we scheduled our first lesson for Bridle Ranch.
Last night, I bought file boxes.
This afternoon, I designed our website.
Then, I created our facebook page.
That's right, friends. Bridle Ranch is official. It's on facebook.
Bridle Ranch Website
Bridle Ranch Facebook Page
It's rough. But it's a beginning.
Like us. Share us. Tell your friends. And come play!
Last night, I bought file boxes.
This afternoon, I designed our website.
Then, I created our facebook page.
That's right, friends. Bridle Ranch is official. It's on facebook.
Bridle Ranch Website
Bridle Ranch Facebook Page
It's rough. But it's a beginning.
Like us. Share us. Tell your friends. And come play!
Sunday, September 23, 2012
I'm Baaaaaack!*
Hello, everybody!
How's your summer been? I hope you've been on lots of fun trips, and gone camping, and soaked in swimming pools and stuff. You deserve it.
We've had a crazy crazy crazy crazy summer. Here's a quick recap:
2 working parents
2 kids
2 cats
2 horses (Yes, we got a second one at the beginning of the summer. His name is Snip. He's cool.)
1 car
and...
2 babysitters.
All of which equals:
a dirty house
a dead lawn
two dead bike tires
a couple of exhausted parents
persisting 3-year-old prayers that Mommy not go to work
one temper tantrum telling Mommy to go back to work
a diploma
a new dining set (I now have the coolest table ever!)
and a "condolences in this time of sorrow" card given to me at my graduation. (It was pretty funny. I laughed.)
I did learn a few things while I was up there. I learned that I don't work well with people with cognitive disabilities. I learned that I'm absolutely terrified of high ropes courses. I learned that I really really really appreciate organization and consistency. I learned that one can get culture shock only an hour away from home. I learned how to better deal with difficult situations and difficult people. I learned more about how to have patience and be calm.
It was, overall a very good experience. It was a huge juggling act, trying to balance 30-40 hours of work a week, 10 hours of driving time, a house, two kids who suddenly don't have parents, a teenager out of the house for the first time, an exhausted husband, an exhausted me, and four animals, not to mention the fact that the work was a huge learning experience for me. Still, like I said, I learned a lot. I can't even articulate most of what I learned, because so much of it was simply the experience of being there and of coming to peace with myself in a new environment with a new population.
Can I tell you what I did, though? For my senior project, I created a training manual template for the company. Basically, they have several different programs up there, but each one is run in its own little way, without much of a sense of cohesion between them. I created a template that each program supervisor will just have to fill in the blanks to complete, and voila! Questions answered, all information covered appropriately, and a sense of cohesion built throughout the company. I was pretty pleased with the results. I'm curious to see if my efforts will actually help them.
So, for the past few weeks, I've been putting my house back together, harvesting our garden, cramming all the fun we should have had over the summer into a few brief hours over the weekends, and working on starting a business. (More to come on that later!)
Anyway, I'm sorry I haven't blogged very much lately. Blogging fell off my list of priorities for awhile. Truthfully, I'm not sure how much time I'll have for it in the next few months, either, but I will try. In the meantime, keep watching for updates on facebook. We're getting a website set up! It'll be awesome.
See you all soon!
*Rachel, this post was instigated by you. Thanks for facebooking me!
How's your summer been? I hope you've been on lots of fun trips, and gone camping, and soaked in swimming pools and stuff. You deserve it.
We've had a crazy crazy crazy crazy summer. Here's a quick recap:
2 working parents
2 kids
2 cats
2 horses (Yes, we got a second one at the beginning of the summer. His name is Snip. He's cool.)
1 car
and...
2 babysitters.
All of which equals:
a dirty house
a dead lawn
two dead bike tires
a couple of exhausted parents
persisting 3-year-old prayers that Mommy not go to work
one temper tantrum telling Mommy to go back to work
a diploma
a new dining set (I now have the coolest table ever!)
and a "condolences in this time of sorrow" card given to me at my graduation. (It was pretty funny. I laughed.)
I did learn a few things while I was up there. I learned that I don't work well with people with cognitive disabilities. I learned that I'm absolutely terrified of high ropes courses. I learned that I really really really appreciate organization and consistency. I learned that one can get culture shock only an hour away from home. I learned how to better deal with difficult situations and difficult people. I learned more about how to have patience and be calm.
It was, overall a very good experience. It was a huge juggling act, trying to balance 30-40 hours of work a week, 10 hours of driving time, a house, two kids who suddenly don't have parents, a teenager out of the house for the first time, an exhausted husband, an exhausted me, and four animals, not to mention the fact that the work was a huge learning experience for me. Still, like I said, I learned a lot. I can't even articulate most of what I learned, because so much of it was simply the experience of being there and of coming to peace with myself in a new environment with a new population.
Can I tell you what I did, though? For my senior project, I created a training manual template for the company. Basically, they have several different programs up there, but each one is run in its own little way, without much of a sense of cohesion between them. I created a template that each program supervisor will just have to fill in the blanks to complete, and voila! Questions answered, all information covered appropriately, and a sense of cohesion built throughout the company. I was pretty pleased with the results. I'm curious to see if my efforts will actually help them.
So, for the past few weeks, I've been putting my house back together, harvesting our garden, cramming all the fun we should have had over the summer into a few brief hours over the weekends, and working on starting a business. (More to come on that later!)
Anyway, I'm sorry I haven't blogged very much lately. Blogging fell off my list of priorities for awhile. Truthfully, I'm not sure how much time I'll have for it in the next few months, either, but I will try. In the meantime, keep watching for updates on facebook. We're getting a website set up! It'll be awesome.
See you all soon!
*Rachel, this post was instigated by you. Thanks for facebooking me!
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Internship
Hey!
Did I ever tell you that I got my internship? The one I applied for back in February?
I did. I got it. It's going to be awesome. I'm going to be working with horses and ropes courses and skiing and bike riding and people with disabilities all summer.
Yeah, it's awesome.
And, it starts tomorrow. It goes until August 30th. And it will be crazy/busy/awesome.
And, I just wanted to let you know, in case I'm completely awol for the next 3 months, it's because I'm learning to be crazy/busy/awesome.
Wish me luck!
Also, send blessings and prayers to all the people who are helping me to do this, because seriously, they're all amazing.
Hugs!
Did I ever tell you that I got my internship? The one I applied for back in February?
I did. I got it. It's going to be awesome. I'm going to be working with horses and ropes courses and skiing and bike riding and people with disabilities all summer.
Yeah, it's awesome.
And, it starts tomorrow. It goes until August 30th. And it will be crazy/busy/awesome.
And, I just wanted to let you know, in case I'm completely awol for the next 3 months, it's because I'm learning to be crazy/busy/awesome.
Wish me luck!
Also, send blessings and prayers to all the people who are helping me to do this, because seriously, they're all amazing.
Hugs!
Sunday, May 20, 2012
An Interesting Discovery
*Please disregard any typos, repeats, or things that don't make sense in this particular blog entry. I've been sick for days, and about 5 minutes ago I took some NyQuil to help me sleep tonight.
So there I was, with permission to eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it. I also had the guidance of the Gospel. And, as circumstance would have it, I discovered a fascination with whole grains.
I don't know about you, but "whole grains" in my mind generally translates to "whole wheat" or, occasionally, "oatmeal." I figured there had to be more out there, and I wanted to discover possibilities. I went to Good Earth and bought some quinoa, a couple different types of rice, and some oat bran. I enjoyed them all. Quinoa, in particular, has a fun texture. Plus, I really enjoyed making muffins from scratch using the oat bran. Yummy stuff!
*Ooh... the NyQuil's starting to take effect.
Of course, I also ate a lot of wheat products. After all, the stuff is everywhere. Ev-er-y-where. I mean, there are very few recipes, and probably even fewer boxed foods, that don't contain white flour. Which, of course, is made from wheat flour. This translates to eating wheat almost every single meal of almost every single day of my life.
But that's not a big deal, right? Except for the argument that everything's over-processed and "the whiter the bread the sooner you're dead" which I've heard all my life, wheat flour is still pretty healthy. Get whole wheat flour and make your bread yourself, and you're among the healthy elite.
Except that I was paying attention to my body. For the first time in my life, I was paying attention to how my body felt before and after eating. You know what I discovered?
I know. The buildup is killing you.
My body doesn't like wheat. Wheat turns my stomach to knots and inhibits digestion. Usually, the knots aren't awful. Usually, the guilt of eating outweighed the discomfort in my midsection, and I would just bemoan the fact that, once again, I'd eaten too much, or the wrong food, or put too much butter on my bread.
Once I let go of the guilt and the...
*Huh. That's some powerful stuff.
What was I saying? Oh yeah. Guilt. Once I let go of the guilt and the fear that, for me, surrounded the food, I was able to actually listen to my body and to what it was telling me. I think it's a significant step towards a beautiful relationship with this body I've been riding around in for 29 years.
Long story short, I stopped eating wheat. I stopped eating white flour. I dove into oatmeal and oat bran and rice flour instead.
So far, it's only been a week. Two? One and a half. Ish. But within an hour or two of every meal, I feel the difference. My body feels cleaner. I feel stronger, and healthier, and even more able to think. My digestion has improved, and even my hips don't hurt as much.
*Is anybody else's room spinning?
For most people, eating wheat is probably a good thing. For me, it's not. But I like feeling freer and stronger and knowing that my body is working as it should. That outweighs the need to change my diet. And while I am changing my diet, I could start eating wheat products again if I wanted to. The point is, I don't want to. I like the feeling, now, of having my body working. I may lose weight. I may not. Right now, I don't really care. Right now, I'm eating for a healthy body right now.
And that feels good.
*Also, I need to go to bed now.
So there I was, with permission to eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it. I also had the guidance of the Gospel. And, as circumstance would have it, I discovered a fascination with whole grains.
I don't know about you, but "whole grains" in my mind generally translates to "whole wheat" or, occasionally, "oatmeal." I figured there had to be more out there, and I wanted to discover possibilities. I went to Good Earth and bought some quinoa, a couple different types of rice, and some oat bran. I enjoyed them all. Quinoa, in particular, has a fun texture. Plus, I really enjoyed making muffins from scratch using the oat bran. Yummy stuff!
*Ooh... the NyQuil's starting to take effect.
Of course, I also ate a lot of wheat products. After all, the stuff is everywhere. Ev-er-y-where. I mean, there are very few recipes, and probably even fewer boxed foods, that don't contain white flour. Which, of course, is made from wheat flour. This translates to eating wheat almost every single meal of almost every single day of my life.
But that's not a big deal, right? Except for the argument that everything's over-processed and "the whiter the bread the sooner you're dead" which I've heard all my life, wheat flour is still pretty healthy. Get whole wheat flour and make your bread yourself, and you're among the healthy elite.
Except that I was paying attention to my body. For the first time in my life, I was paying attention to how my body felt before and after eating. You know what I discovered?
I know. The buildup is killing you.
My body doesn't like wheat. Wheat turns my stomach to knots and inhibits digestion. Usually, the knots aren't awful. Usually, the guilt of eating outweighed the discomfort in my midsection, and I would just bemoan the fact that, once again, I'd eaten too much, or the wrong food, or put too much butter on my bread.
Once I let go of the guilt and the...
*Huh. That's some powerful stuff.
What was I saying? Oh yeah. Guilt. Once I let go of the guilt and the fear that, for me, surrounded the food, I was able to actually listen to my body and to what it was telling me. I think it's a significant step towards a beautiful relationship with this body I've been riding around in for 29 years.
Long story short, I stopped eating wheat. I stopped eating white flour. I dove into oatmeal and oat bran and rice flour instead.
So far, it's only been a week. Two? One and a half. Ish. But within an hour or two of every meal, I feel the difference. My body feels cleaner. I feel stronger, and healthier, and even more able to think. My digestion has improved, and even my hips don't hurt as much.
*Is anybody else's room spinning?
For most people, eating wheat is probably a good thing. For me, it's not. But I like feeling freer and stronger and knowing that my body is working as it should. That outweighs the need to change my diet. And while I am changing my diet, I could start eating wheat products again if I wanted to. The point is, I don't want to. I like the feeling, now, of having my body working. I may lose weight. I may not. Right now, I don't really care. Right now, I'm eating for a healthy body right now.
And that feels good.
*Also, I need to go to bed now.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
A Gospel Perspective on Eating
I belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I believe most, if not all, of my readers are both aware of this and are or have been members themselves. Hence, we all know about the Word of Wisdom.
Generally, it is accepted that we don't drink, smoke, do drugs, or drink coffee or tea. However, a few months ago, I came across an article in the Ensign (the Church's magazine) that details the word of wisdom a bit more in detail. This is what it said:
Eat meat sparingly.
All grain is good.
Don't work too hard.
Get enough sleep.
Sorry. I had to repeat that to myself. It's so simple! Given that there are so many views on eating out there, it was nice to read something from a very reputable source that was so simple.
Of course, there are so many other things that I have learned over the years: Don't eat fats and oils. Don't eat carbs. Processed food is bad. Salt is bad. Sugar is bad. Dairy is bad. Calories are bad. Please eat only vegetables and this fake sweetener and spend 6 hours a day at the gym so you can look like Jillian Michaels.
At my most fit, when I was walking at my job approximately 25 hours a week (including mucking out stalls and riding horses) and exercising 2-3 hours on my days off, and counting calories each day, I got down to a size 10. I was still 5 pounds over my goal weight. Don't get me wrong- I enjoyed looking in the mirror! For the first time in my life, I enjoyed buying clothes. Of course, then I got pregnant, and that lifestyle was no longer a possibility.
But, oh, I so wanted to be skinny! I wanted to stop hating my body! Geneen Roth gave me some of the tools to achieve that end, but I was tired of guessing. Was this just another thing to try but that, in the end, wouldn't get me what I wanted?
So, I prayed. I spent all of General Conference weekend praying about it. My answer?
"Eat what you're supposed to, and don't worry about it so much."
Oh.
So, follow those simple steps outlined in the Word of Wisdom, and recognize that my waist size doesn't matter in the eternities? Simple, but oh-so-hard!
In subsequent weeks, I've been trying to do just that. Have you seen Beauty Redefined? They're on facebook. They also have billboards up in my neck of the woods. Their goal is to help women see themselves as more than things to be looked at. They are trying to combat the harmful messages so prevalent in the media. They are helpful, but it is so difficult to get past the beliefs, so central to my being, that my body is too big.
How do you feel about your body? Do you love yourself, body and all? Do you struggle with liking the person you are inside your body?
How do you eat? Do you subscribe to a particular diet plan? Do you listen to your body when you eat, when you're hungry, when you're full? Are you happy with eating?
I'd love to hear your input on this!
Generally, it is accepted that we don't drink, smoke, do drugs, or drink coffee or tea. However, a few months ago, I came across an article in the Ensign (the Church's magazine) that details the word of wisdom a bit more in detail. This is what it said:
- Fruits, vegetables, and wholesome herbs are to be used “in the season thereof” and “with prudence and thanksgiving” (see D&C 89:10–11).
- Meat and poultry have been “ordained for the use of man with thanksgiving; nevertheless they are to be used sparingly” (D&C 89:12).
- “All grain is good for the food of man” (D&C 89:16).
- We should not “labor more than [we] have strength” (D&C 10:4).
- We should develop proper sleeping habits so “[our] bodies and [our] minds may be invigorated” (D&C 88:124).
There you have it. Plain and simple. Eat fruits and vegetables in their season. Eat meat, but do so sparingly. All grain is good. Those are straight from the passage that talks about the Word of Wisdom. The others, don't work more than you have strength and get enough sleep, are found elsewhere but, I think, equally important.
Eat meat sparingly.
All grain is good.
Don't work too hard.
Get enough sleep.
Sorry. I had to repeat that to myself. It's so simple! Given that there are so many views on eating out there, it was nice to read something from a very reputable source that was so simple.
Of course, there are so many other things that I have learned over the years: Don't eat fats and oils. Don't eat carbs. Processed food is bad. Salt is bad. Sugar is bad. Dairy is bad. Calories are bad. Please eat only vegetables and this fake sweetener and spend 6 hours a day at the gym so you can look like Jillian Michaels.
At my most fit, when I was walking at my job approximately 25 hours a week (including mucking out stalls and riding horses) and exercising 2-3 hours on my days off, and counting calories each day, I got down to a size 10. I was still 5 pounds over my goal weight. Don't get me wrong- I enjoyed looking in the mirror! For the first time in my life, I enjoyed buying clothes. Of course, then I got pregnant, and that lifestyle was no longer a possibility.
But, oh, I so wanted to be skinny! I wanted to stop hating my body! Geneen Roth gave me some of the tools to achieve that end, but I was tired of guessing. Was this just another thing to try but that, in the end, wouldn't get me what I wanted?
So, I prayed. I spent all of General Conference weekend praying about it. My answer?
"Eat what you're supposed to, and don't worry about it so much."
Oh.
So, follow those simple steps outlined in the Word of Wisdom, and recognize that my waist size doesn't matter in the eternities? Simple, but oh-so-hard!
In subsequent weeks, I've been trying to do just that. Have you seen Beauty Redefined? They're on facebook. They also have billboards up in my neck of the woods. Their goal is to help women see themselves as more than things to be looked at. They are trying to combat the harmful messages so prevalent in the media. They are helpful, but it is so difficult to get past the beliefs, so central to my being, that my body is too big.
How do you feel about your body? Do you love yourself, body and all? Do you struggle with liking the person you are inside your body?
How do you eat? Do you subscribe to a particular diet plan? Do you listen to your body when you eat, when you're hungry, when you're full? Are you happy with eating?
I'd love to hear your input on this!
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
The First While
I made Oreo truffles. They're amazing. You blend up Oreos (Or mint oreos, or double stuf, or peanut butter...) and mix them with cream cheese. You form them into balls, and dip them in melted chocolate. Let them sit and, voila! Oh, the yumminess!
I ate those for breakfast a couple of mornings. They were fabulous, and I enjoyed every bite. Then, when I was done, I was really done. I haven't really had the desire to make them, since.
You know the best thing about it? I haven't wanted any. I ate them, and now I'm not fighting with myself and trying to resign myself to never being able to eat those, because my hips can't take it. No, I ate them until I was done, and then I moved on.
In the weeks since, I have come to realize that I fear hunger. I also fear feeling full. You see, if I feel hungry, it means that soon I'm going to lose control and eat too much of the wrong things. If I feel full, it is because I ate too much, period, and the guilt will soon be taking up residence on my shoulders. Both of them. Because we all know the guilt of eating is a back-bowing heaviness that settles on our hips and bellies and under our arms.
Are you afraid of hunger? Are you afraid of fulness?
I'm trying to overcome that.
I am a person. I am a beautiful, wonderful person. I am strong in many ways. I work hard to be kind, to be smart, to do the best I know how to do. I will never be stick-skinny, and I will probably never wear size 2s. My body is beautiful. It is unique. It houses the essence of who I am and deserves all my love. And, as I learn to love myself more, I increase the ability I have to love others.
I've decided that the clothes manufacturers are wrong. I'm not too fat; they're too skinny. (It's a step, and if it's not in the right direction, at least it's in a different direction. I'm experimenting, here.)
When I'm hungry, it means I'm alive, and I get to sustain that life and nourish it. When I'm full, it means I've cared for myself and given my body something it needs. Every sensation, I think, is in some way a celebration of life and all that it means.
Bring on the truffles, and the corn on the cob, and the bread, and the sugar, and the apples, and the love.
I ate those for breakfast a couple of mornings. They were fabulous, and I enjoyed every bite. Then, when I was done, I was really done. I haven't really had the desire to make them, since.
You know the best thing about it? I haven't wanted any. I ate them, and now I'm not fighting with myself and trying to resign myself to never being able to eat those, because my hips can't take it. No, I ate them until I was done, and then I moved on.
In the weeks since, I have come to realize that I fear hunger. I also fear feeling full. You see, if I feel hungry, it means that soon I'm going to lose control and eat too much of the wrong things. If I feel full, it is because I ate too much, period, and the guilt will soon be taking up residence on my shoulders. Both of them. Because we all know the guilt of eating is a back-bowing heaviness that settles on our hips and bellies and under our arms.
Are you afraid of hunger? Are you afraid of fulness?
I'm trying to overcome that.
I am a person. I am a beautiful, wonderful person. I am strong in many ways. I work hard to be kind, to be smart, to do the best I know how to do. I will never be stick-skinny, and I will probably never wear size 2s. My body is beautiful. It is unique. It houses the essence of who I am and deserves all my love. And, as I learn to love myself more, I increase the ability I have to love others.
I've decided that the clothes manufacturers are wrong. I'm not too fat; they're too skinny. (It's a step, and if it's not in the right direction, at least it's in a different direction. I'm experimenting, here.)
When I'm hungry, it means I'm alive, and I get to sustain that life and nourish it. When I'm full, it means I've cared for myself and given my body something it needs. Every sensation, I think, is in some way a celebration of life and all that it means.
Bring on the truffles, and the corn on the cob, and the bread, and the sugar, and the apples, and the love.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
On Weight Loss
"If you do what you've always done, you'll get what you've always gotten." -I don't know who said this, but it's on Pinterest all the time.
Here's what I've always done: Feel fat, start exercising, try to eat less or healthier, lose some weight, don't reach my goal weight, get sick of feeling hungry and deprived all the time, get discouraged because I'm not reaching my goal weight and it's taking FOREVER, eat little snacks througout the day, justify that said snacks are okay, and eventually give up for awhile, having lost some weight but still feeling like a failure because I didn't do what I set out to do.
I do have a couple of advantages. The first is that I do know a lot of the principles of eating healthy. Also, once I lose weight, it doesn't immediately come back. I attribute that to knowing mostly how to eat healthy.
You want to know something interesting? A lot of people think they'll be happy when they lose the extra weight. A lot of those same people aren't happy if and when they do.
There is no magic pill for permanent weight loss. Weight loss is not a magic pill for feeling happy.
What is the phrase? Mind Blown.
Have you ever read the writings of Geneen Roth? She has some interesting things to say. Plus, she's an interesting writer, which makes her books fun to read. Basically, she decided one day, after years and years of dieting and bingeing and being anywhere from anorexic to obese, that she was no longer going to diet. Ever. It wasn't worth it.
The first year on this plan, she ate ice cream and cakes and cookies and learned to love and listen to her body and her instincts. She gained 15 pounds.
The second year on this plan, she practiced loving and respecting and listening to her body. She lost 30 pounds, and has been there ever since. She learned to be happy being herself at whatever weight she was, and because she loved her body, she wanted to take care of it.
I like that plan. I want to listen to my body. I've been trying it for the last few months. It's been fun. It's been surprisingly hard. It continues to be hard. It continues to be fun. I'm still learning. I don't think I went quite as batty as Geneen did when she stopped dieting, but I have begun to enjoy this whole eating thing.
Stay tuned... there will be more to come on this topic!
Here's what I've always done: Feel fat, start exercising, try to eat less or healthier, lose some weight, don't reach my goal weight, get sick of feeling hungry and deprived all the time, get discouraged because I'm not reaching my goal weight and it's taking FOREVER, eat little snacks througout the day, justify that said snacks are okay, and eventually give up for awhile, having lost some weight but still feeling like a failure because I didn't do what I set out to do.
I do have a couple of advantages. The first is that I do know a lot of the principles of eating healthy. Also, once I lose weight, it doesn't immediately come back. I attribute that to knowing mostly how to eat healthy.
You want to know something interesting? A lot of people think they'll be happy when they lose the extra weight. A lot of those same people aren't happy if and when they do.
There is no magic pill for permanent weight loss. Weight loss is not a magic pill for feeling happy.
What is the phrase? Mind Blown.
Have you ever read the writings of Geneen Roth? She has some interesting things to say. Plus, she's an interesting writer, which makes her books fun to read. Basically, she decided one day, after years and years of dieting and bingeing and being anywhere from anorexic to obese, that she was no longer going to diet. Ever. It wasn't worth it.
The first year on this plan, she ate ice cream and cakes and cookies and learned to love and listen to her body and her instincts. She gained 15 pounds.
The second year on this plan, she practiced loving and respecting and listening to her body. She lost 30 pounds, and has been there ever since. She learned to be happy being herself at whatever weight she was, and because she loved her body, she wanted to take care of it.
I like that plan. I want to listen to my body. I've been trying it for the last few months. It's been fun. It's been surprisingly hard. It continues to be hard. It continues to be fun. I'm still learning. I don't think I went quite as batty as Geneen did when she stopped dieting, but I have begun to enjoy this whole eating thing.
Stay tuned... there will be more to come on this topic!
Monday, April 30, 2012
The Glass: A Discussion
P: Your glass is half empty.
O: Is it?
R: Well, it's a 10 ounce glass, and there are currently 5 ounces of orange juice in it.
O: I only put 8 ounces in there to begin with. Maybe it's 5/8 full.
R: The fact remains, it's a 10 ounce glass, and there are 5 ounces of orange juice. That means we have 5 ounces of orange juice. If you transferred the juice to a 5 ounce glass, the glass would be completely full.
P: That doesn't solve the problem at all. If you change the shape of the problem, it still remains the same problem. There used to be 8 ounces, and now there are only 5. The orange juice is disappearing.
O: But I like this glass. I don't want a smaller one. This one fits my hand nicely.
R: The size of the glass doesn't matter. What matters is how much orange juice you have now.
O: The size of the glass does matter. There is more potential with a bigger glass.
R: Why would more potential matter? You have 8 ounces of juice; you should have an 8 ounce glass.
P: Actually, the juice is disappearing. There were 8 ounces. Now there are 5.
O: Actually, now we're down to 1 ounce of juice.
P: Ah! The rate of disappearance is increasing!
R: Which means we now need a 1 ounce cup.
O: But I started with 8 ounces of juice.
R: That doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is what you have now.
P: The past definitely matters! There should be a bigger glass to begin with. If the rate of disappearance keeps increasing, you need to start with an infinitely large glass.
O: That's... a little ridiculous.
R: That's completely ridiculous. The rate of disappearance doesn't matter. All that matters is what is in the glass now. Why give yourself a bigger glass to make you think things are better than they are?
P: It's not to make you think things are better than they are. It's to give you a better chance of having enough orange juice even though it keeps disappearing.
R: What is enough? You have what you have, no more, no less.
O: Unless you drink it all, in which case you have none left.
P: Your glass is empty.
O: Or my stomach is half full.
P: Doesn't that make you sad?
R: Why sad? What is the point of being sad about the lack of orange juice? It is what it is.
P: But now there's no more.
O: Unless I pour more.
R: How much are you pouring?
P: Aha! You did start with a bigger glass! Or, pitcher.
O: Or an orange tree. Hey look! My glass is full!
P: Until you drink it all.
O: Funny thing about that...
O: Is it?
R: Well, it's a 10 ounce glass, and there are currently 5 ounces of orange juice in it.
O: I only put 8 ounces in there to begin with. Maybe it's 5/8 full.
R: The fact remains, it's a 10 ounce glass, and there are 5 ounces of orange juice. That means we have 5 ounces of orange juice. If you transferred the juice to a 5 ounce glass, the glass would be completely full.
P: That doesn't solve the problem at all. If you change the shape of the problem, it still remains the same problem. There used to be 8 ounces, and now there are only 5. The orange juice is disappearing.
O: But I like this glass. I don't want a smaller one. This one fits my hand nicely.
R: The size of the glass doesn't matter. What matters is how much orange juice you have now.
O: The size of the glass does matter. There is more potential with a bigger glass.
R: Why would more potential matter? You have 8 ounces of juice; you should have an 8 ounce glass.
P: Actually, the juice is disappearing. There were 8 ounces. Now there are 5.
O: Actually, now we're down to 1 ounce of juice.
P: Ah! The rate of disappearance is increasing!
R: Which means we now need a 1 ounce cup.
O: But I started with 8 ounces of juice.
R: That doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is what you have now.
P: The past definitely matters! There should be a bigger glass to begin with. If the rate of disappearance keeps increasing, you need to start with an infinitely large glass.
O: That's... a little ridiculous.
R: That's completely ridiculous. The rate of disappearance doesn't matter. All that matters is what is in the glass now. Why give yourself a bigger glass to make you think things are better than they are?
P: It's not to make you think things are better than they are. It's to give you a better chance of having enough orange juice even though it keeps disappearing.
R: What is enough? You have what you have, no more, no less.
O: Unless you drink it all, in which case you have none left.
P: Your glass is empty.
O: Or my stomach is half full.
P: Doesn't that make you sad?
R: Why sad? What is the point of being sad about the lack of orange juice? It is what it is.
P: But now there's no more.
O: Unless I pour more.
R: How much are you pouring?
P: Aha! You did start with a bigger glass! Or, pitcher.
O: Or an orange tree. Hey look! My glass is full!
P: Until you drink it all.
O: Funny thing about that...
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