The mother of all vacation blog posts, part 1

We had so many adventures on our vacation to California that I don't quite know how to start.

Our flight was uneventful, non-turbulent, and the kids handled everything quite well. We decided to drive up the coast route from LAX to Nana's house. I hadn't been that way in many years, and it immediately plunged me into a fit of nostalgia. I lived for my first 8 years not too far from LAX, in lovely Westchester. (Check out the cool art deco movie theater in that link: I remember it clearly from when it was still a theater. And the Hughes Airport mentioned there was at the bottom of the hill below our house.) The homes there are typically small, one-story, stucco bungalows, often sherbert shades of pink or lime green. As we drove up the Pacific Coast Highway, I was assailed by memories and we immediately began lusting after Mexican food.

As we drove through Malibu, munching on our quesadillas and tacos, I began to notice the details that make So Cal distinctive for me. Gorgeous native trees like sycamores and evergreen oaks mix with tropical transplants like bouganvillea, oleander, and eucalyptus. Valleys, and hillsides facing the ocean, are green even through the rainless summers, but the rest of the terrain is almost desert -- we call winter the "green season" and the rest of the year the "brown season." There is a lively mix of architecture, from the ubiquitous, fake-Spanish stucco/tile roof mini-malls, to avant-garde modern (see the Getty Center later). And of course, 40 bazillion cars. Everything from beat-up old pickups, to classic T-birds, and then, where my parents live, monstrous Hummers and Escalades.

We spent Sunday quietly with Nana and Grandpa Dave, and then on Monday we went to what I consider one of the weirdest things in L.A.: the La Brea Tar Pits. Right in the middle of the West Side, there is a pit of tar, separated from a major thoroughfare by just a fence.


(Those are sculptures of mammoths.) During the last ice age, mammals, birds, and even one human became trapped in the tar--rain water floats on top of the tar making it appear like any other lake. Methane bubbles up through the tar, adding to the lovely odor. The kids loved the adjacent museum, with its mammoths, saber-tooth cats, and dire wolves. They pretended to be condors:


When we lived in the area, my parents both worked right next door to the tar pits. So the next stop down memory lane was the big fountain in front of the building. I remember playing in it many times as a girl.


We planned our trip so the big outings alternated days with staying home. On home days we went to the nearby park about....52 times. The kids loved it there. Aside from the usual slides, swings, etc. they also dug in the sand, flew a kite with Papa, and assaulted the airspace with bubbles.



Our next big outing was to the beach, with my dad. This was the same beach we went to last summer. This time we saw pelicans, seagulls, a sea lion, and this weird little creature:


Since the fiasco of last year's beach trip, the kids were afraid to get close to the water. It was too cold that morning to get very wet anyway, and it's not a safe swimming beach, but we wanted to work on overcoming that fear. Here's Papa and Grandpa Walt contemplating some glassy green rollers with SillyBilly:


Oh yeah, the sticky stuff: more tar! Courtesy offshore drilling platforms.


Next up: adventures in modern art, is the sushi the same after all these years?, and how the president made us get home so late.

I couldn't pass this up

Charlotte recently shared this very silly little game: Google "(your name) needs" and see what comes up. Evidently many of my requirements in life are urgent enough to demand exclamation points:

What's wrong with Kristine? Nothing! (hear, hear!)

Kristine needs a man too. (thanks, got one already)

Kristine needs her happy place. (see above)

Kristine needs to shake her bootie!!! (um, no)

Kristine needs to organize these files. (how did they get a look at my desk?)

Maybe Kristine needs to find out how Texas deals with child molesters. (um, no thanks)

Kristine needs a room mate! (got plenty already, thanks)

Kristine needs to come out to Long Island! (I have no response to that.)

Kristine needs to wear glasses (oh, definitely)

Kristine needs to be paid (on time please!)

and my favorite:

Kristine needs to two-way HotSync (sounds vaguely naughty, except for the Palm Pilots)

A fun-filled day

You thought you'd be reading about our vacation about now, right?

Ha.

This morning, upon assisting with jammie removal, I discovered a large tick imbedded in Napoleona's back. I attempted to remove it, and merely squashed the thing. So, SillyBilly went to daycare, and the girlie and I went to the pediatrician. He informed us, after removing the remains of the creature, that while we should be on the lookout for Lyme Disease, most likely nothing will occur. And if it does, a round of amoxicillin will do the trick. Evidently it's just us lucky grownups that typically have problems.

$25 later (I'm not complaining that we have a free annual visit scheduled with the pediatrician on Tuesday, oh no. It's not like I could leave a blood-sucking parasite on my kid for 4 days. But why why why couldn't this have happened on, say, Tuesday?), I dropped off Napoleona to daycare and used the remaining hour to do some editing.

Lunch, naptime, then playing outside with the kids. Of course, by "playing outside with the kids" I mean supervising SillyBilly while he plays with the hose and Napoleona while she stuffs her face with trail mix, all the while reading a mystery novel. There's got to be some fun in this day somewhere, right?

While I was in the middle of doing some pre-dinner dishes, Napoleona declared in tones of woe that she had stuck a cat-litter crystal up her nose, and it was stuck there. Much nose-blowing later, the offending crystal shot to the floor.

Then I broke my beloved (and only) flower vase while washing it.

Now I'm sitting on the couch blogging while Anthropapa makes dinner. Aaaah, that's better.


**Coming soon**
The mother of all vacation blog posts, part I.

No news is good news

We dropped off the face of the earth.....I mean, we're vacationing in California.
Once I get a free hour or two to upload pictures, I'll share fascinating trip tidbits such as:

• the sticky stuff I found on the beach
• what Napoleona said to make all the people in the museum gallery crack up
• tooth extraction by tetherball (don't worry, not one of my kids)
• why I love/hate Southern California
• SillyBilly's new driving skills
• various trips down memory lane
• the Pleistocene on the West Side
  

The Joys of Cardboard

Just a quick post today...I've been madly trying to get ready for our big trip out to California to see the grandparents. Hopefully I'll have more to say once the grand events planned for the vacation occur.

Recently we've had fun with the ultimate frugal toy: cardboard. (OK, maybe rocks and sticks are more frugal, but we play with those every day!) We were taking our trash and recycling to the dumpsters the other day, when we stumbled on a goldmine: an enormous, empty cardboard box...probably about 4 feet square. It once contained a sand filter for the nearby stream-fed swimming pond. I immediately convinced Anthropapa to carry it home -- how could we pass that up? So the box now resides under the eaves in the backyard, where it has already been a house, a workshop, and a garage for trucks.

Add to that the joy of what was inside the big box: long strips of corrugated cardboard, about 2 feet by 16 feet. One of those just had to come inside with us, where it has been through several incarnations of houses of various kinds. The kids can make a house of any shape, even with rooms if they curve it back on itself. And when they're done, we just roll it up and put it in the corner.



Then I was inspired to create a dollhouse out of another small cardboard box that recently held birthday presents for Napoleona. I taped the box together, and SillyBilly helped me decorate it (added bonus for him: he got to use the normally verboten Sharpie pens!) with shingles, trees, flowers, and of course a door and windows.


Who knew such riches could be found in a dumpster?

Happy, Happy Birthday Baby

My little girl turned three on Sunday. All the cliches apply: I can't believe it, look how big, how time flies, etc. But looking at the pictures of her from the day of her birth, and then looking at her now, I'm in awe of the mighty forces of development and growth of the human being.

To think that at birth she looked like this:

Unable to control her limbs, unable to speak or be upright, no teeth, requiring close proximity to Mama at all times, but instinctively able to nurse and cry for what she needed.

Then on her first birthday:

Completely weaned, sleeping alone in a crib, able to stand up, smile, have much better control of her body, and definitely able to communicate desires with or without words. (Note the aura of sassiness; it's still there to this day, in spades.)

Then on her second birthday she looked like this:

Now more socially aware: posing and smiling for photos! Walking, talking, definitely expressing preferences, and learning to drink from a cup.

And then on her third birthday:

Sitting in a big chair (boostered of course), sleeping in a big girl bed, learning table manners, dressing herself, learning to use the toilet, and never ever stopping the flow of words coming out of her mouth! (Note the birthday bagel with lox and cream cheese, it's becoming a family tradition.) And now, no song is allowed in the house if it includes the word "baby." All songs must now refer to "big girl." Hush, big girl, don't say a word, mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird. Sleep, big girl, sleep. Rockabye, big girl, on the tree top.

When we asked her where she wanted to go for her birthday, the first thing out of her mouth was "NYACK!!" Since most of my 10 loyal readers probably don't know that fine city, I will 'splain. Nyack is a artsy little town on the Hudson River, just north of the Tappan Zee Bridge. It has a fun downtown area, many funky shops and yoga studios, and in relation to this story, a very nice playground for small children in a park right on the river. Napoleona wanted to go play there, and perhaps have pizza after. After a tiny bit of maneuvering, she agreed that going into the city to the Met would be more fun.

Now, we didn't trick her or really wheedle too much. She really wanted to go. In fact, she was crying disconsolately when we had to leave early to return home for an appointment. Really. My 3 year old was in the back of the van, crying, "I'm sad because I wanted to stay at the museum, I didn't want to go!!"

Warms my heart, that does.

We checked out the Egyptian mummies, the big Buddha statues and murals, and the Van Goghs, and the very nice Chinese scholar's garden.

Then we drove home and had a big nap. Ice cream cake with 3 candles after dinner.

Happy Birthday Little One!

Six favorite toddler books

(Un)relaxeddad shared his fav bedtime stories, and tagged me. Here goes:

1)The Princess in the Forest by Sibylle von Olfers. I just got this recently in an attempt to liven up the bedtime routine, but by enliven I mean "get a new book that I actually like and that is short and soothing." This beautifully illustrated story from the early 1900's is very simple and calming, and ends with a wonderfully comforting image of the princess asleep in her castle with a star child keeping watch over her.

2) Little Bear, by Else Holmelund Minarik. First, this book (and the 4 others about Little Bear by Minarik) are illustrated by Maurice Sendak, who is one of my favorite artists. Second, these are short little stories with simple words (they are sold as early readers). Third, they are sweet and funny. Little Bear has great powers of imagination, has good friends, gets into mischief, and has a very kind mother. The last story actually ends with Little Bear going to sleep!

3) Grandfather Twilight, by Barbara Helen Berger. This book is all about going to sleep! The illustrations are very soft and beautiful, and since my kids are enamored of all things grandfatherish, they really like this story. The book is actually rather hypnotic, and has a wonderful image of the moon as a pearl.

4) Where the Wild Things Are, by Maurice Sendak. This one is almost too classic to mention, but we do like it. Plus it helps us feel better after a particularly fierce or mischievous day -- the dinner was still hot after all.

5) Frog and Toad stories, by Arnold Lobel. Many of these stories are a bit too silly for bedtime, but a few of them work well for us. Frog is a loyal friend, and Toad is a melancholic grump who nevertheless tries to be a good friend to Frog. My kids seem to relate to these characters, who get into trouble, get frustrated, do silly things, cannot control their cookie-eating habit, etc.

6) In the Land of Fairies and In the Land of Elves, by Daniela Drescher. OK, two for one. These books are really lovely and imaginative. The translations are nice, though Elves is the better for reading out loud. My kids have these memorized and love the illustrations.

After writing this list, I see several common threads: short, soothing, and hopefully directly involving characters sleeping. Methinks the idea is to get the kids halfway to dreamland even before the light goes out! Also I seem to stick with two camps: classics (Sendak and Lobel) and Waldorfy (von Olfers and Drescher).

Now, if I were to give a list of favorite books in general, not bedtime, then maybe we'd see some variety. Maybe.

Warmth and Health

I thought it was time to bring up a little more anthroposophy, after too many silly little posts! That, and my paying work has slowed down. So, here are some recent thoughts about warmth.

Springtime is here, and the weather is warming up. However, despite the sunny skies around here, it's still chilly for most of the day. I'm fighting daily battles with SillyBilly, who wants to wear his shorts and t-shirts and sandals, to get him dressed warmly enough. And we are all still snorting and hacking our way out of that nasty cold virus we had last weekend.

Rudolf Steiner and other anthroposophical writers have said a lot about warmth and the human being. Steiner linked warmth and the blood directly to the activity of the human ego, also known as the "I" (this is distinct from the Freudian ego -- here we are referring to the immortal spirit of the individual). In the young child, warmth allows the physical body to develop properly, with good structure and function:

If the ego is to be able to perfect the organs so that they endure in good health throughout life, there must be a well-maintained deep body warmth. For...it is the warmth organization wherein the ego works....[In the adult] the ego is fully incarnated and is able to control the body temperature, whereas [in the child] the ego is in a process of incarnation and is not yet fully in charge.
--Joan Salter, The Incarnating Child

Steiner also described the 12 senses: the five senses of sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch, and the seven senses of warmth, life, self-movement, balance, word, thought, and the I and Other. We can see that in a baby, the sense of touch and warmth are pre-eminent, in the toddler the sense of self-movement leads to walking and the sense of word leads to talking, while older children work on balance in their see-sawing and tree climbing.

Young children do not have a mature sense of warmth, clearly seen in the child who is blue with cold yet refuses to come out of the swimming pool! Adults must help the child by providing appropriate clothing and environment. On another level, the sense of warmth relates to the emotional and spiritual atmosphere or mood: cold, impersonal and insincere, or caring, loving and genuine.

As adults we know how uncomfortable it is to feel cold and how it prevents us from working properly either physically or mentally. A baby feels even more uncomfortable and yet he cannot complain....The soul and spirit need sufficient warmth for their work of moulding and remoulding the body.
--Wilhelm zur Linden, When a Child is Born

I have read (not experiencing the difference myself as I have never traveled abroad) that Americans are particularly guilty of underdressing. I do remember that in Sacramento many times I would be wearing a wool sweater on a winter's day, and see other people running around in shorts! And certainly even on snowy days here in New York, not everyone wears a warm hat or even a coat. What are we doing to our health with this? I believe being chronically cold leads to bad health, because the body is too busy keeping up its internal temperature to do its other work, like immune functions, properly.

In the child, illness that may be brought on by being cold is often resolved via fever. The body brings on an elevated internal temperature in order to kill, or prevent proliferation of, the virus or bacteria. However there are other physical as well as spiritual aspects to fever:

Thermoregulation and fever also have a soul-spiritual aspect. Heat is more than just a quantitative factor measured with a thermometer. As such, warmth also manifests in the activity of the human soul and spirit. We "feel warm inside" when we meet a good friend or revisit the familiar landscape of our childhood....Conversely, fear anger, or great sorrow, or even hate, envy, or discontent in our surroundings, makes our blood "run cold."
...
Fever helps a child's I adapt its inherited body to its own purposes, making it a more suitable vehicle for self-expression....From a purely outer perspective, the rapid regaining of weight lost during a feverish illness is an indication that the body is being organically remodeled. The child has deconstructed some aspect of her inherited body and is rebuilding it under the independent direction of her own warmth organization.
--Michaela Glöckler, Wolfgang Goebel, A Guide to Child Health

So, here's what we do. My kids wear thin, soft wool underwear on all but the hottest days, and most nights. They wear long sleeves and pants through three seasons. When they go to daycare, and often at home, they wear slippers or booties to keep their feet warm. They wear hats most of the time outdoors (sunhats in summer of course). Tummy aches bring out the hot water bottle, one of our dearest friends! When the kids get a fever, we do not suppress it with medication -- we address any discomfort by sponging down or wrapping their calves with tepid lemon water cloths, and make sure they have extra fluids and rest. We make an effort to make their surroundings beautiful to warm their souls.

Literary geek comics

I was going to make my next post a very insightful essay about anthroposophical medicine and the modern, materialistic view of health and illness. But tonight, I can' t be bothered to think deep thoughts.

So instead, I bring you several very funny and geeky comics from Geist:

Bad Virus, No Biscuit!

The kids and I all have a cold. SillyBilly woke up yesterday morning with a bad asthma attack. Breathing fast, retracting muscles between his ribs and above his collarbone, splotchy skin tone, audible wheezing. We discovered all of his medication was expired (and I mean years expired) because it's been so long since he's had any trouble.

So, we called the pediatrician, got him to call in a new prescription, and went into his office for a Saturday afternoon visit (bless you, Dr. Zatz!) to avoid an ER visit. Turns out SillyBilly had a 102F fever on top of the runny nose and severe wheezing. I guess I was so distracted by the wheezing that I missed how hot he was.

After several nebulizer treatments, including one at 11:30 last night, SillyBilly was much better today. Still wheezing, but no fever and back to his normal spunk level. I hate to give him that kind of medication (nebulized albuterol is powerful -- it makes my hands shake and my heart pound), but in cases like these I think it becomes necessary.

Now it's my turn to wheeze. All of my medication is similarly expired. Don't tell anyone, but I snuck a bit of SillyBilly's new stuff.

Update: Everyone seems to be on the mend. No more icky medication, though we're all still coughing and dripping.


Tip for getting small children to blow their noses: tell them you're having a contest to see who can make the yuckiest noises while blowing! Worked well for me this morning.


I think my next post will be about health and illness. If I can muster up the energy to write it!

Spring Has Sprung

Miscellaneous evidence of spring:










The boy got his first bike!















The Easter bunny came, but immediately went back to Florida because it was too darn cold.












We made these sheep out of yarn, felt, and wooden spools. Sometimes it's hard to find crafts that a 3 and 4 year old can do. These adorned our Easter dining table and nature table.












We had that enormous storm, heavy rain for two days. Our humble little brook threatened to flood into our backyard, but luckily it chose somewhere else to roam free. The picture on the right is how the brook looks in the summer with little rain, taken from the same spot as the left one.











Well, this has nothing to do with spring, but I had to share. The other day Napoleona found a little piece of uncarded sheep's wool. She was puttering around, and the next thing I knew she had dipped the wool into a glass of water, put it between two wooden blocks, and rubbed the blocks together to make felt! My crafty girl. She's not even three years old yet -- I think she's a prodigy!

This week should be about 70F every day, so we're expecting the trees to bust out some major pollen. The crocuses, snowdrops and aconite are all gone, and now we're starting on daffodils, primroses and grape hyacinths, with tulips not far behind. The maples are all flowering, as are the magnolias and forsythia. We've spotted the chipmunk that lives under our lawn, the woodchuck who lurks near our parking space, and we noticed some serious courting going on among the songbirds this afternoon. The kids were very excited to see that a blue jay pair has chosen the maple tree outside our front door for their nesting site. We also found that the edge of the brook sports several skunk cabbages, which are some of the weirdest looking plants ever.

Best of all, I can let the kids play outside for hours and hours again. No more cabin fever!

My Tiny Little Dream House

I just came across this on the Craft blog and could not resist sharing. I've wanted to live in Underhill since I was a little girl. And I've always loved miniature things.

Miniature Bag End

Nonviolent Mama

Recently I've been feeling a little stressed out. I'm trying to fit in more work while still taking care of the kids, and I've not been getting enough sleep -- I stay up too late doing "fun" stuff like reading blogs after a hard day.

So, I'm ashamed to say, my parenting skills have suffered. I've been frustrated and yelling a lot. Yelling quite loudly in fact. Here's what's been happening:

Naptime starts with me reading a story, usually SillyBilly on my lap and Napoleona in her bed. Then SillyBilly sits in the living room while I sing and rock Napoleona to sleep. Then in theory I would bring SillyBilly into the bedroom to rock him to sleep.

But lately SillyBilly has decided to thwart that last bit. He'll act up, refuse to be quiet, wiggle around, etc. Sometimes he'll take so long to settle down to sleep that it's only half an hour until Napoleona gets up. Sometimes I get him into the bedroom, and then he'll make enough noise to wake Napoleona up. And when that happens, she won't go back to sleep. This all makes me very, very upset.

You see, naptime is a little haven of quiet and solitude during my day. Just me and the cats. I can do a little work, do a little blogging, read, sleep, whatever, and be all alone.

When SillyBilly interferes with that, I get angry. Angry that he's not listening to me, angry that he's not obeying me, angry that I'm not getting what I want. But, I don't want to be a yelling, spanking, angry Mama. I definitely don't want them yelling or hitting either. (Recently I heard SillyBilly saying "Goddammit!" quietly under his breath, as if to practice what he'd heard. Wonderful.)

So I went looking for help. I reread our copy of Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Compassion by Marshall B. Rosenberg. I've been struggling recently over how to incorporate NVC principles in my interactions with my kids. The structure of stating our observations, feelings, needs, and requests seems overly wordy and analytical when working with small children. This time I noticed that I could work with empathy more than the words, empathy for both myself and the kids.

I realized I need to look at the situation in an entirely new way:

At the core of all anger is a need that is not being fulfilled. Thus anger can be valuable if we use it as an alarm clock to wake us up—to realize we have a need that isn’t being met and that we are thinking in a way that makes it unlikely to be met.

I need quiet time alone, and when I don't get it I feel angry and frustrated. But yelling and spanking are not going to result in a quiet, peaceful afternoon. So I have to find ways to get what I need. This may mean paying for more day care so that I don't feel compelled to work during naptime; this probably means I need to go to bed much earlier so that I'm not so tired when I'm with the kids.

The first step to fully expressing anger in NVC is to divorce the other person from any responsibility for our anger…. We are never angry because of what someone else did. We can identify the other person’s behavior as the stimulus, but it is important to establish a clear separation between stimulus and cause…. Whenever we are angry, we are finding fault—we choose to play God by judging or blaming the other person for being wrong or deserving of punishment.

I was blaming SillyBilly for his actions, when really he was just being a normal 4 year old being tired but not wanting to sleep. I wasn't getting angry because of his actions, I was getting angry because I was not getting what I wanted. I can still express my frustration and anger to him, but if I stay conscious of the fact that he's not to blame, then I can keep my cool and just use calm words instead of yelling.

Now, normally in NVC we would use conversation to work through the conflict, expressing our needs and making concrete requests. But that would not work for me in the situation of trying to get SillyBilly to quiet down while trying not to wake up Napoleona! So I read about the concept of protective force:

The assumption behind the protective use of force is that people behave in ways injurious to themselves and others due to some form of ignorance. The corrective process is therefore one of education, not punishment.

If SillyBilly is being noisy while Napoleona is sleeping, I have to be prepared to take him out of the room. But the key is that I can't blame him, I just have to help him understand why I need him to be quiet.

What do I want this person’s reasons to be for doing what I’m asking? We soon realize that punishment and reward interfere with people’s ability to do things motivated by the reasons we’d like them to have.

This is the trickiest part for me. Part of me just wants the little bugger to comply with my requests, because I'm the Mama dammit! And I think to a certain extent that's valid. I think parents need to have a sense of authority over their children -- not authoritarian, but authority. I am the adult, I am the parent, therefore I have the responsibility and the authority to direct the children in their behavior. But ultimately I would like them to learn to act out of love and kindness, out of empathy for other people's needs.

This last bit is the hardest because it's a long-term proposition. Three and four year olds can't really empathize -- they don't have that kind of consciousness yet. So we face a long road of repeating instructions and modeling the behavior we want them to exhibit.

So far things have been improving bit by bit. I've been trying to head SillyBilly off at the pass by expressing my need for him to take a nap right before naptime, so that it might be in his awareness a little more. The weather has been beautiful, allowing us to spend more time outdoors in the mornings so that the kids are more tired at naptime. We're making a plan to ensure we have enough money to cover sufficient day care so that I can work during "normal" working hours and get enough rest.

A Congressional Conversation

The other day I got an email from Pandora, an internet radio service, asking me to sign a Save Internet Radio email petition to help revoke the recent increase in licensing fees by the Copyright Royalty Board. I looked into it a bit, and signed the email petition. I'm of two minds about royalties/copyrights: on the one hand, I think artists should be able to make enough money to live while producing their art. On the other hand, I'm not so sure "owning" the artworks via copyright is the way to go.

In any case, the petition went to my federal congresspersons, including Senator Clinton.

I received the following reply three days later:

Thank you for your e-mail. It is very important to me to know the issues that are of concern to you. A growing number of my constituents are now choosing to communicate with me via e-mail. I hope you will understand that, because of the volume and range of e-mails I receive, it can take some time to send a response that specifically addresses the subject raised in your message. I do, however, want to let you know immediately that your message has been received. Hearing from you and others through e-mail helps me to quickly learn the views and interests of New Yorkers and others, which is very helpful to me in my work in the United States Senate. I hope you will continue to monitor my work through my website at http://clinton.senate.gov, and I welcome hearing from you.

Sincerely,
Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton

Two hours after that, I received this email:

Thank you for taking the time to contact me regarding the proposed new royalty rates for online radio. I always enjoy hearing from New Yorkers about challenging public policy issues that are important to them, and I particularly appreciate your concerns regarding the future of Internet radio. As you may know, I am a strong supporter of maintaining an open Internet that fosters innovation. No other communications medium in recent history has had such a profound impact on the expression of speech, education, the dissemination of information and the exchange of ideas.

Online radio is a great example of how the Internet has helped to cultivate innovation and offered consumers access to new and personalized information. However, the great technological and commercial progress that has come with the ongoing development of the Internet has also brought with it numerous new public policy dilemmas, such as how to balance copyright protection for music and other property with the innovation that the Internet continues to cultivate.

As you know, in March 2007 the Copyright Royalty Board (CRB) proposed a new online radio royalty structure, which would amend the system that has been in place since 2002 and establish a new scale for royalties charged to Internet radio companies on a per-song, per-listener basis. The proposed rates will begin at 0.08 cents per song per listener, retroactive to January 1, 2006 and will reach 0.19 cents per song per listener in 2010. The CRB has since announced that it will hear appeals of its previous ruling. Your concerns about this matter are significant and I hope that this period for appeal will enable the CRB to carefully consider points of view like yours.

Thank you again for sharing your concerns regarding these important Internet radio issues with me. Please be assured that I will continue to follow this issue closely and that I will keep your views in mind in the future if related measures come before the Senate. For more information on my support for an open Internet and other important issues before the United States Senate, please visit my website at http://clinton.senate.gov.

Sincerely,
Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton

Two things come to mind:

1) I was impressed that I received these emails, in a somewhat timely fashion. Neither of the other two congresspersons responded to the petition. Even if they're completely canned emails, they are still replies. I've signed numerous email petitions over the last year (mostly through the Organic Consumers Association) and this is the first response I've received, ever.

2) She gives absolutely no opinion on the issue in her response. She states "I am a strong supporter of maintaining an open Internet that fosters innovation," and refers me to her website. Where I can find no information on her opinions or actions relating to the internet, except for sponsoring legislation to ensure VoIP users can access emergency services via 911.

You're wondering: will I vote for her in 2008? Ah, but that would be talking politics, now wouldn't it?

Antisocial Behavior

I just thought I would bring the following two items to the attention of my 5-6 loyal readers.

May your experiences in formerly sedate venues such as restaurants and bookstores be serene once more.

Turn that thing off!

Shhhh!!

This public service announcement brought to you by the Annoyed Virgos of America.

Remembrance of Foods Past

Being at home with my kids, much of my days revolves around food. Shopping, preparing, cooking and cleaning up meals are primary tasks each day. Lately the Huntlings have been going through ups and downs of eating: some days just nibbling, other days seemingly eating more than their body weight!

I was thinking about the food of my childhood. Growing up in Southern California, I had year-round access to fresh fruits and vegetables. My dad still has large lemon trees in his yard, and not too far from there are avocado orchards and lettuce fields. But that's not what has stuck in my memories.

Sometimes I think about festive foods: my mom often made wonderful roasts with Yorkshire pudding for holiday meals. I always turned up my nose at yams at Thanksgiving dinner.

Other memories are the stuff of funny family stories: my dad once tried to make a cinnamon roll. It tasted quite good while hot, but by the next day it had formed what we from then on called the "cinnamon doorstop." My dad was also famous for his "anything goes" omelettes, frugally using up leftovers in sometimes dubious combinations.

For many years we had dinner every Friday with my German grandma. She made wonderful, simple foods like chicken soup with cauliflower, celery and carrots, and stuffed cabbage rolls (no tomato sauce, thank you.) She was also a fan of the after-dinner "little bit schnapps," which she often shared with my dad.

Then in my teenage years, when I could fend for myself in the kitchen, came a precipitous drop in nutritional value. I was a regular consumer of Hot Pockets and lunchmeat sandwiches. I fondly remember orange Creamsicles and Otter Pops in summer. As an evening snack I would share a pot of Earl Grey tea and some buttered toast with my mom as we watched TV.

In college, on a limited budget, I for a short time survived on 5 for a dollar instant ramen noodle packets, and toast with butter, supplemented with $1 bean burritos (no red sauce!) from Taco Bell.

What are your childhood food memories?

Some thoughts on toys

Napoleona's third birthday is coming up soon, and so I've been thinking about toys. Having two kids, I'm often thinking about toys, stepping on toys, telling them not to throw their toys, fixing toys, etc. But what are toys, and what makes a good toy?

Waldorf methods are pretty clear about some things: encourage the child's imaginative processes with simple objects that can be used in a variety of ways, choose natural materials that are pleasant to work with and connect the child to the natural world, and nurture the child's instinct to imitate the world and processes he sees in daily life (e.g. cleaning, cooking, caring for others).

Human beings in general, and small children in particular, are beings in the process of becoming. In his surroundings the child needs that which is in the process of becoming, and needs the possibility to transform and create anew. It is not the finished, completed object which is refreshing, satisfying and invigorating for children...A crooked branch with many little side branches and twigs, completely covered with a cloth, can be a mountain in a landscape; half-covered it can be a gnome's cave, a dollhouse, or a barn...Those materials which support and encourage the kind of play indicated above will best nourish the imaginative strength of the young child which develops into the faculties and capacities needed during school-age years and later in life. In such play the child can experiment freely and become acquainted with the world by being active. In a profound manner the child unites himself with the world creating self-confidence and a sense of security.

--Toymaking with Children, Freya Jaffke

Well. Who knew toys were that powerful? Many parents have the instinct that tells them the "beep-boop" type of toy isn't the best. Witness the typical delight of the child given a cardboard box. SillyBilly played for several hours today with an empty tissue box. It formed part of a trash truck, and the last time I saw it, it had become a snug little bed for a stuffed animal. Give them some sticks, rocks, mud and a few buckets and scoops, and the Huntlings will have a ball in the yard. Here's Napoleona "fishing" off the back steps with a stick:

The Not Quite Crunchy Parent had a good post recently about one of our favorite "be-anything" toys, play silks. So far I've been hoarding all the silks for the nature table, but the kids have a big yellow silk that I plant-dyed a few years ago. It usually functions as a cape, but it has also been a wheat field for the matchbox tractor and bedding for numerous stuffed animals.


Lately the kids (especially Napoleona) have been making "houses": they take cloths, baskets, dining room chairs, and whatever else strikes their fancies to make little enclosures. Sometimes it's just Napoleona sitting on the floor by the couch surrounded by baskets that form her "walls." Other times I help them make grand dining room table palaces with flannel sheet walls and soft pillow beds inside. (Note to any grandparents reading this: we could use some more cloths and playclips to enhance this experience!)

Now, we don't have a total ban on non-Waldorf toys. A good friend gave SillyBilly a quite awesome plastic red and black dragon, which has become a favorite. Occasionally we give them markers instead of beeswax crayons. But generally we try to stay away from toys that are too formed or structured. So in general, blank drawing paper is in, coloring books are out. Wooden blocks (many made by Grandpa Walt) are in, Legos are out.

I'm still working on that farm landscape for the kids. It has taken a lot longer to crochet, knit, and latch hook a relatively little rug than I thought it would. Today SillyBilly sewed on a brown felt "bean field" all by himself. YES! Helpers! In any case, we are all looking forward to the farm coming to life soon, and I promise to take pictures.

Out of the Mouths of Babes, VI

Overheard while SillyBilly was getting his jammies on with Papa:

Papa, what color is a soul?

Papa, what shape is a soul?

In the car driving home from the mall (I know, Easter Sunday, but it was too cold to play outside and we HAD to get out of the house) we discussed how Jesus and Buddha said some of the same things (be nice to everyone):

SillyBilly: Mama, when I grow up I want to be like Jesus, or Buddha.
Napoleona: Me too!!

Back at home, after a lengthy discussion about Jesus, Mama gives one more example of how Jesus said we should be nice to everyone:

Mama: ..and one time a lady who had done bad things washed Jesus' feet and dried them with her own hair, and even though other people didn't like her, Jesus said that because she wanted to be nice and she was sorry, that he liked her.

SillyBilly: Mama, what bad things did she do?

Grammy: Let's see how she gets out of this one!

(Needless to say, I just left it at "bad things, I'm not going to tell you what exactly." I was not going to explain theologians' arguments about her being a prostitute.)

Trust and paranoia

"We must eradicate from the soul all fear and terror of what comes towards us out of the future.
We must acquire serenity in all feelings and sensations about the future.
We must look forward with absolute equanimity to everything that may come.
And we must think only that whatever comes is given to us by a world-directive full of wisdom.
It is part of what we must learn in this age, namely, to live out of pure trust, without any security in existence -- trust in the ever-present help of the spiritual world.
Truly, nothing else will do if our courage is not to fail us.
And let us seek the awakening from within ourselves, every morning and every evening."

-Rudolf Steiner

Papa Bradstein recently posted about parenting and fear, and my lengthy comment there brought home to me how pervasive fear is in modern parenting (not to mention simply being human). He quotes Paula Spencer's recent article in Newsweek about parental paranoia, asking what the effect might be on our kids growing up with constantly neurotic parental models, and why we might look back fondly on childhood adventures sans parental hovering but would never allow our children those freedoms today.

And I purposefully use the word freedom here. As I said in my comment to Papa B, I'm all for creating safe boundaries in which children can play freely. I'll give you an example:

Our yard has no fence, just a brook for a back boundary. So whenever the kids are outside playing, I'm pretty much always going to be with them, barring the occasional run into the house to grab some crackers for snack. After living here for almost a year, I feel like I've created a "psychic space" in our yard, where the kids know that they need to stay close by. But they're still young enough that I monitor them closely.

The other day they decided they wanted to play "in the forest," meaning in the trees at the edge of the yard. As long as I could see them, I stayed away and let them do their foresty thing while I got some yard work done. They happily pulled a few wagons in there, and proceeded to pretend they were living in a house, making a (pretend) fire out of sticks to cook some (pretend) food. Beautiful, self-motivated, imaginative play.

I find that this kind of playing, free from adult intervention, is very refreshing and healthy for them. So much of their time each day is dictated by adult rules and desires. I've noticed that when we're inside the house, the kids become much more like billiard balls, knocking into each other all the time. When they play outside, they have both physical and psychic space in which to roam, and they hardly ever conflict.

Now this is not to say that I don't have my fears, even when they're happily playing house. There's still a part of my mind thinking: What if she trips and bashes her head on a rock? What if he gets a nasty case of poison ivy on his sensitive skin? What if they fall in the brook and catch pneumonia? What if a meteorite falls from the sky and knocks one of them unconscious? (OK, that last one is really far-fetched, but it could happen!)

I try to maintain the state of mind that Paula Spencer promotes: "No matter how careful you are, bad stuff happens (diaper rash, stitches, all your friends assigned to another class). And it's seldom the end of the world."

Otherwise, what am I modeling for my children? That the world is not a safe place? (Sunscreen and hand-sanitizer and white sugar, oh my!) That they should not be self-reliant? (Don't climb up there, you might fall!) That they should not be happy and creative? (Don't touch that, you might break it!)

When SillyBilly was born, he was in serious medical trouble and came close to death. A good friend told us that in her meditations on him, she wished that he would "meet his true destiny." I remember feeling that, while I appreciated her sentiment, at that point I couldn't go there with her. I just wanted to hold my little boy. But now, I can link her comment with Steiner's thoughts above: "whatever comes is given to us by a world-directive full of wisdom," and it is up to us to receive it with gratitude and trust.

Signs of Spring

A quickie post, I'm up to my ears in 3 (!) editing projects (I must mention my favorite, a scholarly book about a fin-de-siecle Hamburg art historian. Makes me miss all those art books in the UCI library very much.)

Deer tracks in the mud in our yard. I know, hard to see, but the kids were very excited by this.

Duck city in our little brook. Once we counted seven wanna-be Papa mallards swimming oh-so-nonchalantly behind one soon-to-be Mama mallard. Now they seem to be pretty much paired off. We're waiting breathlessly for ducklings.

Winter aconite.

Crocus. We've got purple, yellow, and white right now.

Today we noticed the first tiny green leaves on a bush in the yard, skunk cabbage near the deer prints (I'll have to take a picture tomorrow, those are some freaky plants!), and a blooming red maple. We had the first chipmunk sighting in many weeks, one zooming along the bank of the brook desperate to get away from us enormous loud humans.

The songbirds are working overtime, waking us every morning. We put out some bird seed mix on a low table by the brook, and delighted in watching a mourning dove, grackle, mallard pair, assorted finches and sparrows, and a gray squirrel all dine there. They may eat us out of house and home. The kids decided that throwing the seeds into the brook was the best way to feed the ducks, but I prefer them to come on land so I can see their silly orange feet! The blue jays and mockingbirds have become incredibly squawky, and we regularly hear woodpeckers going to town on the trees.

Coming soon: green grass!

Would you like some cheese with that whine?

After my daycare triumph over the weekend, I anticipated two mornings completely clear of parenting tasks, wide open for me to complete lots of paying editing work. Umm....right.

Sunday night Napoleona came down with a little 24 hour earache/fever combo. She woke at 10:30 pm with an earache. I thought she might go back to sleep on her own, but no dice. I whipped out my Lilipoh Holistic Wellness Guide, and made a chopped onion poultice for her ear. I'd never tried it before, but it seemed to work quite well. She finally got to sleep at midnight, then woke up at 5 am with a fever of almost 102F. She didn't seem very uncomfortable, so I just massaged her legs with a cool wet cloth. I would have done a lemon calf wrap, but we were out of lemons.

(You may be getting the idea that I don't like giving medicines to the kids, and that I use old-fashioned and somewhat uncommon remedies. You are correct.)

She really wasn't terribly ill, just unhappy enough to "need you Mama!" all the time. I did sneak in two 15-minute increments of editing, but she just didn't want to read books on her own, she wanted me. So, I gave up any pretense of trying to get anything done.

By lunchtime Napoleona was feeling better, even hungry. All went well until naptime. Of course, she was pretty exhausted, but big brother totally refused to nap.

Now, I've been easing off the naps for SillyBilly over the last few months. So we have a routine where he sits on my bed reading books or "crafting," which is really just playing with felt, yarn, blunt needles, scissors......did I say scissors? I was doing something on the computer when I heard an ominous cutting sound. I turned around and asked him what he was cutting. He showed me a piece of felt that was a bit cut up. Then, I noticed the chunk taken out of the front of his hair. After I tried to straighten it out, he looks like this:

(He was just pretending to be grumpy--he was pretty amused by the whole thing. I told him I wasn't mad at him because I did the exact same thing at his age. Don't do it again and no more unsupervised scissors, however. Now we just have to wait for the high-forehead-Prince-Valiant look to grow out. Just in time for Easter. Sigh.)

The rest of the day was pretty purgatorial: the kids decided it was "silly" day, where they would pick really annoying phrases and words and repeat them over, and over, and over again. So while I was trying to remain calm and cook dinner, I was treated to the delight of "Are we there yet?" about 57 million times. WE WEREN'T EVEN ON A ROAD TRIP!!! Grrrrr.

***

Today was much better. Both kids went off to daycare, I did about 3 hours of work plus took the ever-coveted shower, and they both took a nap. At naptime Napoleona told me that if she could make a wish with a penny in a wishing well, she would wish for "you Mama, because I love you." It was about 70F outside so we even got to take a walk before dinner. I feel much less whiny today.

Day Care Triumph -or- How I Found Time to Work

Well, we seem to have found us some daycare for the Huntlings. A very nice lady has a LifeWays method daycare in her home, almost within walking distance. The kids liked her very much, she has a very charming indoor space, and the backyard comes complete with chickens!

I learned about LifeWays back in California, by taking an introductory seminar with Cynthia Aldinger, the founder. She is such a joyful person, and has worked in the early childhood world for many years. Years ago she and a colleague found that while the need for daycare for very small children (even infants) was increasing, the Waldorf movement had not been willing or able to provide such care. Waldorf kindergarten teachers thought that ideally a child under kindergarten age (in Waldorf this can be as old as 6) should be home with a parent.

Of course, that's not always possible, or even common, any more. So Cynthia developed the idea of a Waldorf-inspired daycare, with mixed ages and a structure like a home environment: domestic tasks like cleaning and cooking, real furniture like couches and dressers for clothes, and consistent caregivers. Children would be in a nurturing environment much like their own homes, surrounded by the practical tasks of life, and developing their own capacities for nurturing through interactions with children of varying ages. Infants would be cared for by the same person over many years so that healthy bonds can form.

We're all very excited by the prospect of the kids having this kind of environment when away from home. They'll be playing outside, helping with the chickens, eating snacks and lunches they helped prepare, and meeting new children with whom they can practice being kind and gentle!

Update: SillyBilly LOVED his first day at daycare. He got to hammer things, help make soup, and he even made a friend (though he can't remember her name and evidently spent most of the morning being "mean" to her until they made nice.) On the other hand, Napoleona woke up at 10:30 last night with a mysterious earache, then again at 5 am with a 101.8 fever. She stayed home today, I got 1/2 hour of work done out of the 4 hours I hoped for, and now she's taking a humungous nap. Oh well, we'll try again tomorrow.

Binging on Pop Culture

I really need to get out more. The highlights of my literary and film experiences lately have generally been, well, not mentally challenging.

But they have been highlights, given that I live in a community where the social extravaganza of the month will be a Palm Sunday family get-together that will include a puppet show, seed-planting, nature walk, and potluck lunch. I'm totally looking forward to it, but...it's not connected much to the world at large.

So I'd like to share the few cultural gems I've consumed lately that have nothing whatsoever to do with parenting or Waldorf education. Yes, most of the following items are several years old: like I said, I don't get out much.

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Lovely Charlotte shipped me her copy of Julie & Julia recently (along with some yum Lindt chocolate!) and I'm ashamed to say I've already finished it.

Ashamed because this was one of those books that was a cheap thrill: almost completely free of deeper meaning, full of naughty words, rich French food, and that staple of the literary industry, the neurotic protagonist from New York City.

But, I really enjoyed it. I had heard long ago about the blog and the book, but never thought to look further. Then I got my own copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking (known in J&J as MtAoFC). I started making sauces; I happen to love liver and sweetbreads (drawing the line at brains however). And so I can on some level relate to Julie Powell's experiences.

I thought the parts about her personal life and her friends' personal lives and her housekeeping travails and her work frustrations were all part of the package...the book was more about her than about the food itself. Sometimes I did get tired of the "I live in a crappy little apartment in Queens that shocks and appalls my mother and the subways are atrocious, but I love NYC too much to leave" thing, but it's a tried-and-true spiel I guess.

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Last night we watched The Illusionist, with Paul Giamatti, Edward Norton, and Jessica Biel (never thought I'd write a sentence with those names together). I really, really liked this film. I'm a sucker for early 20th century clothes, Viennese culture, and films that try to actually look beautiful instead of simply overwhelmingly action-packed and loud.

Great soundtrack by Philip Glass, stunning cinematography including a lovely sepia-tone effect in the lengthy flashback section, and gorgeous locations in the Czech Republic. Ed Norton was very, very good, intense as usual but more sympathetic than in, say, Fight Club. And I'm a Paul Giamatti fan: if I were going to be a balding, paunchy, self-effacing character actor, I would be him.

I had my doubts going in about Jessica Biel, knowing her only from the TV show 7th Heaven (as a commenter on IMDB said, it's oddly mesmerizing in a campy, syrupy sweet kind of way) and glamour shots in Vanity Fair magazine. I was afraid her mighty biceps would seem out of place, but they managed to hide under her leg-o-mutton sleeves. And her acting was suprisingly decent, though there was nothing 1900's-ish about those huge white teeth.

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That was the most recent Netflix item; its predecessor was a disturbing little film called Secretary. I'm not going to go into detail here...this is a family-oriented blog after all. But I did somehow like this film despite its disturbing parts. James Spader was his normal affectless self, but in the context of a control freak/sadist that worked just fine. Maggie Gyllenhaal somehow moved from freakishly frumpy and self-destructive to beautiful and self-confident, and only partly thanks to the gifts of makeup and wardrobe. While the specific structure of their relationship was...hmmm...odd, I felt that the overall theme of the film was uplifting: everyone can find love, and through love deep pain can be healed.

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And last but not least, Crash. I had serious doubts about this one going in. After having kids, I have close to zero tolerance for suspense and physical violence in films. And I have some kind of unresolved trauma relating to car accidents, so the big scene with Matt Dillon and Thandie Newton was extremely stressful. So was the scene with the Persian shopkeeper going to find the man he thinks destroyed his shop, gun in hand (I actually went to read Jane Austen in the bathroom during this scene, but hubby said it turned out OK).

Though I would not say I liked this film, in that it was certainly unpleasant in many ways, I appreciated its candor and attempt to treat a very touchy subject with dignity. The film never let anyone off the hook, and never turned anyone into a cardboard cut-out villain. Like in Magnolia, the characters intertwined in a slightly improbable way, but for the purpose of showing the interdependence of society and the interpenetration of human relations, it worked for me.

It's hard for me to believe that racism is as prevalent and ingrained in society as depicted in the film. Maybe I'm just naive, or blind, or trying hard to stay that way. I know that there is a vast "underclass" in L.A. of Latino laborers, Persian shopkeepers, and unemployed and undereducated black men, who all deserve to be treated better by society and each other. And certainly the LAPD and US legal system have major problems with racism. One thing I do know that this film was finely crafted and unflinching in its attempt to explore our preconceptions.

Spring Fever?

Seems like many of my blog friends are taking a bit of a hiatus lately. Whether it's gardening, writing, a vacation, or just being busy taking care of little people, many of us are slowing down a bit on the old blogosphere.

Here at Chez Anthromama we've been dealing with sinus infections and lots of work piling up.

Did I say lots? I have at least 5 more chapters to edit for my current client, then revisions. And a 500 page manuscript appeared on my doorstep the other day, with a due date of April 6. And I'm editing magazine articles for a local Waldorf early childhood group. AND I have no childcare lined up yet!!

Wish me luck.

So nature incites them in their hearts...

Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;

Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his half cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye...

---

When April with its sweet-smelling showers
Has pierced the drought of March to the root,
And bathed every vein in such liquid
By which power the flower is created;

When the West Wind also with its sweet breath,
In every wood and field has breathed life into
The tender new leaves, and the young sun
Has run half its course in Aries,
And small birds make melody...

-General Prologue, Canterbury Tales, Geoffrey Chaucer



It might not be April yet, but yesterday we saw the first bees of the season, coming over to our little crop of winter aconite. Today we saw the first shoots of bulbs coming up (other than the one sad clump of snowdrops that tried to bloom a few months ago when it was crazy warm). And there are an awful lot of little birds maken melodye around here!

Though there are still icy patches here and there, the kids still got muddy and wet today digging in the yard. They may have still been wearing wool underwear and sweaters, but I didn't have the heart to say no to their first mud in months.

Most amps only go up to ten

While snuggling with my little girl today, the following completely true conversation happened:

Me: I love you so much! How much do I love you?
Napoleona, grabbing my face gently between her hands: Eleven.

Friday Freezing Fun

Anthropapa had the day off today, so he and SillyBilly took the bus into the city for a big boy adventure. Plans included possibly taking the subway, going to the Met to see the Egyptian stuff, and playing at the adjacent Ancient Playground.

So I decided to take the rare chance and go to the nearby Waldorf toy store, Meadowlark. It's in a tiny red barn, far too small and full of nicely displayed toys to risk taking two kids single-handedly. Napoleona had a fine time checking things out, and ended up sitting in one spot playing with puzzles while I puttered around. Bless you, my little phlegmatic one! I was even able to sneak out a birthday present for her.


But the highlight of our morning, and the reason for this post, was our walk to the store. We are very lucky to live in an area that while fairly densely populated, also supports a healthy variety of wildlife and opportunities for nature experiences. Though our walk was about 1/2 mile, we experienced all this:

• slipping on the slidy ice
• prickly holly leaves
  
• a small flock of cedar waxwings
• ice rimming the brook
  
• the first robin sighting of the spring!
• some of the first green leaves of the season--how do they push through the still frozen soil?
  
• the stump where an enormous mulberry tree fell down last autumn
• huge rhododendron buds just waiting to open
• gray squirrels busily trying to find the last of their winter caches
  
• handfuls of sticks
• an enormous crow squawking from the top of a tall tree, silhouetted against the bright blue sky

In the anthroposophical view of human development, the young child under age seven learns primarily through physical activity and imitation. Though it's been a difficult winter for outside play (little snow but lots of cold windy days), we've been taking little walks to see what can be seen in the forest around us. In this way the kids are still able to be outside even if they can't do their favorite things like digging or water play. The other day they had a blast trying to use their toy hammers to break a huge mound of icy snow piled up by a snow plow, finding the one patch of mud to get themselves filthy (!) and climbing on boulders.

Today's moment of imitation came after our walk. I got out the bird book to make sure those were indeed cedar waxwings we saw. A few moments later, Napoleona was sitting by me with 3 or 4 stuffed animals, paging through the book and teaching her little friends all about the birds. Nothing nicer than hearing her say "Look little puppy, a bald eagle!!"

Recently I've been mulling over the idea of homeschooling the kids using Waldorf methods. Since they're both at home anyway I'm already de facto homeschooling them, and it couldn't be easier using Waldorf ideas. Early childhood is about will forces and imitation: last night before bed I got the kids to help me clean their room by saying that we would be birds making our nests. I started picking things up and before I knew it they were both grabbing baskets to fill with all the toys on the floor, making wooden block nests, toy car nests, etc. Napoleona even went so far as to take a wooden bowl, fill it with bits of ribbon and cloth for softness (I had been telling them about how birds will use things like string, snakeskins, or even plastic to line their nests), and then proceed to sit on the bowl until her stuffed animal "hatched"!

To me, that was a beautiful moment of imitation and creative play. I hope to follow that up with finding a real birds' nest for them to see.

The spirituality behind Waldorf

A few months back, Papa Bradstein and I were chatting and he inadvertently dropped a bomb in my mind: he asked, what is the spiritual background of Waldorf education?

I say it was a bomb because at the time I stammered out a few lame sentences, and then we went on to some other topic. And I've been thinking about me stammering ever since. Why can I not explain the background of something that I've been working with for almost 10 years? Is it just too complex, or have I not tried to make enough sense of it?

In either case, I decided to give it a try. Now, in discussing this with Anthropapa, he pointed out that to reduce something like spirituality or child development to a few bullet points is automatically ridiculous: you can't take something organic and interconnected and break it down in a materialistic, reductionist way. But anyway, I'm still doing it! OK now, deep breath as I dive into the pool of decidedly woo-woo stuff that may lose me most of my loyal 5-6 readers...

1. Human beings reincarnate. Therefore a child is not a tabula rasa to be filled with knowledge; on the contrary it is our task to lead them to their own inherent wisdom. Viewing children in this way leads to a profound respect for them as individuals, and acknowledges that intellectual development alone is not the sole reason for education.



2. The human being is comprised of a physical body, an etheric body, an astral body, and an immortal spirit. Waldorf education attempts to bring these bodies into balance through healthy development; mainstream education (and indeed mainstream culture in general) is seen as overly materialistic and intellectualized.
   



3. Humans develop in seven-year phases starting at birth. The first, birth-7, is linked with the will and learning via imitation and physical activity. The second, 7-14, is linked with the feelings and learning via imagination and the arts. The third, 14-21, is linked with the thinking and learning via abstract concepts. Waldorf curricula seek to educate the child in accordance with these developmental stages: for example, there is no "intellectual" teaching in Waldorf kindergartens because the child needs to learn about the world through the senses and in movement.
   



4. To be continued...
   

Miscellaneous items for your amusement

As requested by Helen, the December 1975 ad that features yours truly:

Since this ad appeared in National Geographic, I can safely say millions of Americans might have a little bit of me in their basements. Kinda weird!

Parenting blunder of the day: I yelled at my kids for yelling at each other. Great role model, eh?

Parenting triumph of the day: I made homemade corn chowder and green salads for lunch, and they ate every last bit. Also, once or twice during the morning yell-a-thon, I got the kids to actually calm down and talk to each other. SillyBilly is finally getting old enough to start working with NVC and remember to use his words to seek what he needs. Woo hoo!!

Time-waster of the week: come see my fledgling nation of Oakgall, "A Snack and a Nap, That's All We Ask." Current legislative issues in parliament include:

• Uranium Deposit Promises To Enrich Oakgall
• Military Demands Increased Spending
• Where's The Love Gone?
• Woodchucks On The Dinner Table?

A Tale of Mama Woe

Inspired by Papa Bradstein's tale of childhood trauma, I thought I would share what was possibly the worst 20 minutes of my parenting life so far (not counting the days when we thought SillyBilly was going to die, that's another post I might suck it up and write someday).

Last winter SillyBilly and Napoleona and I were out in the yard playing, when I announced it was time to go inside. SillyBilly immediately pitched a fit and refused to leave the yard.

Now, I can still carry the kids if I need to, but not both of them at the same time. Last year Napoleona still could not be relied upon to follow me, because she would get distracted by some tiny bug or something and head off God knows where. I knew I had to get her inside first so that she would be safely corralled in the house.

So I tried the old mama trick: "OK fine bye-bye," where you act like you're leaving and the kid comes running after you. I expected SillyBilly to come in right behind me. Bad Mama, no biscuit.

He took off running into the woods, unbeknownst to me. So when I went back outside after taking off Napoleona's snow clothes, he was nowhere to be found. I went into the woods calling his name, and thought I heard distant crying but wasn't sure. I was wearing completely wrong shoes for snow (Birkenstocks) and was starting to freak out. Which way did he run? Did he go down the hill toward the slippery, icy brook? Was he wandering randomly through the forest? Did he go out to the road?

I went back to the house to change my shoes and was just thinking about which neighbor to drop Napoleona with, when the cell phone rang. Something told me to answer it, and I'm glad I did.

It was Anthropapa, calling to say that SillyBilly had run all the way to his office, crying the whole way evidently. They were now walking home together.

I sat down on the bench on the porch with Napoleona and had a good, gut-wrenching cry to calm myself down. You see, to get to his papa's office, SillyBilly had to run all the way down the forest path to the two-lane road, cross it, and run down the hill and up the driveway of papa's office. The road is a bit twisty and bumpy, and at the spot where the forest path meets it drivers are usually far exceeding the local speed limit. SillyBilly's guardian angel gets my undying devotion for shepherding him across that street unharmed.

When they arrived, Anthropapa told me that several local people saw or heard SillyBilly running down the street wailing, one of whom even followed him to the office to make sure everything was OK. And he explained that SillyBilly got disoriented when he went into the woods and couldn't see the little path back to our yard. Although in winter you can see for a really long way through the woods and our building would have been clearly visible, he couldn't tell which house was ours.

I felt like an uncaring mama worm at that point. I gave SillyBilly many tearful, shaky kisses and hugs when he got home, and he wasn't too traumatized in the end. And on some level I was proud of him for figuring out how to find his papa. Now if I can just teach him to look both ways before crossing the street....

This One Goes Out to the One I Love

Just a quick post to acknowledge how much I love and appreciate Anthropapa. He works hard every day, and then comes home to work hard some more with the kids. He shares equally in the housework and caring for the children, since before they were born (he came to every prenatal appointment I think). And who could not love a man who brings me bowls of chocolate ice cream at night after the kids are in bed?

Kid Art

Some recent drawings by SillyBilly, the last by Napolena:

A house with a tree and sky.

A green snake on a leafy branch.

A lion with sharp claws.

An abstract form (reminds me of lungs).

Scribbledy-bibble