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

Bookworm Meme

From Helen's blog:

• Hardback or trade paperback or mass market paperback?

Trade. They have the substance of a hardback without the weight.


• Amazon or brick and mortar?

Either. Amazon for used books, since we have NO good used bookstores around here (sad that I live within 25 miles of NYC and say that because I never get into the city!) and sometimes I just can't wait for Bookmooch. Brick and mortar when I either don't want to pay for shipping or just want to browse. Plus it's a place to take the kids when it's icky weather out.

• Barnes & Noble or Borders?

Either, depending on what's nearby. B&N seems to have the nifty cafe's more often.


• Bookmark or dogear?

I hate to dogear but sometimes resort to it. Mostly it's free bookmarks from the library, or subscription cards ripped out of magazines.

• Alphabetize by author or alphabetize by title or random?

Neither, I try to keep books in groups by topic. All the crafty books together, all the parenting, fiction, etc. on their own shelves. This works because the vast majority of my books are still stored in the basement!


• Keep, throw away, or sell?

I have thrown away books but only in the rare cases of complete and utter destruction, e.g. massive water damage or children ripping them to pieces. We used to sell lots of books in Sacramento because we had a used book shop that gave quite good rates, but now I use Bookmooch or donate to thrift stores. Nowadays I only buy books that I'm sure I will keep, otherwise it's the library for me.

• Keep dustjacket or toss it?

Mostly toss, especially the kids' books. However I would normally want to keep them.


• Read with dustjacket or remove it?

Remove, for the most part. Sometimes the flap makes an acceptable bookmark though.


• Short story or novel?

Novels...right now I read for escapism, and I don't want to escape to a different place every half an hour!

• Collection (short stories by same author) or anthology (short stories by different authors)?

If I had to choose I suppose it would be collection. The only short story books I have right now are Charles de Lint's Newford stories and Wendell Berry's Port William stories, which almost read as novels because they involve consistent groups of characters.


• Harry Potter or Lemony Snicket?

Harry Potter. I enjoyed the first Lemony Snicket book but never went back to read more.

• Stop reading when tired or at chapter breaks?

When hubby turns out the light and glares at me.


• “It was a dark and stormy night” or “Once upon a time”?

Reading for myself, the dark and stormy. For the kids, once upon a time.


• Buy or Borrow?

Mostly borrow, with a sprinking of buying and mooching.


• New or used?

Mostly used, except for my latest business expense.


• Buying choice: book reviews, recommendation or browse?

The only reviews I read (now that I seem to have no time for the Sunday NY Times) are on blogs, same for recommendations. Browsing only works if I have actual time at a bookstore without two children dragging me to the picture book section!


• Tidy ending or cliffhanger?

Definitely tidy ending, though cliffhangers are acceptable in books for which the sequel is waiting on my bookshelf.


• Morning reading, afternoon reading or night time reading?

Night time, after the kids are in bed.


• Standalone or series?

Either, though lately I've been wanting to delve deeper into book worlds that I like, hence the many Pride and Prejudice spinoffs on my shelf.


• Favorite series?

Harry Potter, Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula Le Guin, Mars Trilogy by Kim Stanley Robinson


• Favorite book of which nobody else has heard?

Hmmm...this one seems like a dare. How about Little, Big by John Crowley, or The Hounds of the Morrigan by Pat O'Shea?

• Favorite books read last year?

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susannah Clarke


Widdershins by Charles de Lint

Fidelity: Five Stories by Wendell Berry


• Favorite books of all time?

Pretty much anything I've mentioned here already, or here. There are others, like the Lord of the Rings books, which I'm sure I will read over and over throughout my life, but which don't come to mind right now as particularly shiny and enticing.

Parenting and inner work

One of my recent posts mentioned Rudolf Steiner's "six basic exercises," and I thought I would expand on them a bit in relation to parenting. I am taking inspiration from an essay by Signe Schaefer in More Lifeways. I find that these exercises are wonderful, challenging work, and that our children are truly our teachers when it comes to inner growth.

The first exercise relates to thinking. Often parents find themselves easily distracted, and our powers of mental concentration are challenged daily by the ever-changing demands of children. Steiner recommended that we take a small everyday object (e.g. a button or paperclip) and try to focus our attention completely on it. Sounds easy, but it's quite difficult to maintain complete attention for any length of time. Over many days we focus on the form of the object, as well as its manufacture, in a measured, conscious way instead of merely fleeting impressions. We also observe our own thought processes to discover the times and ways we become distracted. This exercise not only helps us become more conscious of our thinking, it also helps us gain a sense of self-control and confidence, so easily lost when faced with the complexity of modern parenting.

The second exercise relates to our will forces. This is another realm in which parents can be easily distracted: I was about to do the dishes when I realized I needed a clean dish towel, but on my way to the linen closet I noticed the cats needed clean water, and then the kids came into the bathroom asking for a snack, so we returned to the kitchen to find the dishes still filling the sink! So we choose a small unnecessary act (in my last post the example was touching my earlobe at 11:45 am) and endeavour to remember and complete it each day. This exercise helps parents strengthen their sense of inner resolve, and helps us feel less on "auto-pilot" or discouraged by lack of follow-through.

The third exercise involves our emotions. We are often unable to remain calm in the face of the baby who won't stop crying or the siblings who won't stop fighting. To begin this exercise, at the end of the day we review our emotional responses: when were we "out of ourselves" and not fully present because of strong feelings? When did an emotional response lead to unintended consequences? Were many of these responses habitual? Eventually we seek to have these insights in the moment instead of in reflection; this helps us stay centered and present, so that we can face our lives with equanimity.

The fourth exercise urges us to find something good, true, or beautiful in any situation. So often we become focused on the negatives in our days: the whining children, the burnt meal, the rude customer at work. Challenging ourselves to guide our thinking and feeling consciously toward the positive when faced with the negative helps us be find balance in our judgments. We can learn to see the beauty in the messes the children make while playing and the strength of will in the argumentative neighbor.

The fifth exercise helps us become more open and receptive to the future and new experiences. We may find ourselves relating to our children's perspectives with scorn or antipathy: the boy who loves to hit and break things, the girl who must eat each kind of food in the meal separately. At the end of the day we can ask ourselves when did we shut down to new ideas? When did we discard someone's opinion as too far from our own? Did we experience a moment when our actual experience differed from our habitual expectations? Working in this way we can begin to work with the gift of open-heartedness that our children bring to the world, and be open to our own capacity for growth and renewal.

The last exercise is to bring the other five exercises together into our daily lives. If we practice the exercises faithfully for a time, we can begin to see them interweave and enliven us. One image is that of the five-pointed star: each point is important itself, but put together they make a radiant, living image. Over time we might find that we have become more conscious, centered, tranquil and in harmony with our surroundings. We can face our days as parents with love, positivity, openness, and objectivity, and model such behavior to our children. As Signe says at the end of her essay, parents and children "are truly on a path of mutual development: their needs for care ask us to grow, and our love and attention nourish their unfolding."

Oh, for the good old days

I just read an article from the Organic Consumer's Association about lead in vinyl lunchboxes. Yet another thing that makes me want to run into the woods to find a log cabin to hide in, despite what some people say about the beneficial aspects of human progress.

As a wee girl in the 70's, I just grabbed that Hardy Boys lunchbox 'n' thermos and went on my innocent, unleaded way to school each morning. Just a thin layer of ink and steel between me and my oreo cookies.

Fun Google result I found while trying to verify that my boys were indeed lead-free: this kinda scary site that has waaaay too much information. Though I'm pleased to see that the Hardy Boys would go for $25, $30 with thermos. Good thing the boys are lounging on a shelf at my dad's house, waiting for the world market in bad 70's TV show memorabilia to go through the roof. Too bad I don't still have the Shaun Cassidy poster that hung over my bed during that crucial prepubescent time.

Asthma and anthroposophy

I've suffered from asthma since I was 17. Over the years I've had many trips to the ER and have gone through countless inhalers. Luckily it's never been severe, but asthma symptoms have definitely limited my activities.

Asthma is a mysterious thing. No one really knows what causes it. There are identified triggers--pollen, exercise, anxiety--but these vary from person to person. No one can really say why someone develops asthma in the first place. Tiny babies can have it; adults can also develop it as I did.

Last year I bought a DVD about the Buteyko method, also known as eucapnic breathing. I'd heard about this from friends and thought I'd give it a try, since it's completely non-invasive. Essentially, Dr. Buteyko stated that asthma sufferers overbreathe. Buteyko believed that asthma is caused by too little carbon dioxide in the lungs; CO2 regulates the ability of the body to take in oxygen, so that if CO2 levels go down, so does the amount of oxygen the blood can absorb. Seems paradoxical, but it makes sense.

The one big thing about this method is that you must always breathe through your nose. Always! Doing this automatically decreases the incoming airflow, among other things. But asthmatics are very often mouth-breathers, and it's an unconscious habit.

So, the main thing I've been doing is to try to be conscious of my breathing and keep my mouth shut! This is where the anthroposophy comes in.

Rudolf Steiner developed his "six basic exercises" to help foster consciousness and balance in our thinking, emotions, and will forces. The "will exercise" involves doing a small, unnecessary act at a certain time each day. For example, I would decide to touch my earlobe at 11:45 am daily. Choosing something insignificant takes away any chance that external influences will help me: something like feeding the cats already must happen, and something like eating a piece of chocolate has its own incentive! So I have to choose something that will require my conscious intention to remember.

I have to admit: I've never been very successful at this exercise. It's far too easy to forget after a few days, and then just give up amid all the myriad activities and distractions of life. But I have tried to use a modified version of this exercise in relation to the Buteyko method.

If I catch myself breathing through my mouth, I bring my full consciousness to it and change over to nose breathing. I try to stay conscious of my breathing for as long as possible afterwards. I then work towards some of the other Buteyko advice such as breathing fairly shallowly and relaxing.

In this way I hope to bring more consciousness to what is normally a very unconscious activity. It's not quite the will exercise, but it's what I'm able to do right now.

Something about this has been working: I've used very little asthma medication in the last year and certainly have had no crises. Have I become more conscious overall? I'll have to get back to you on that.

What is this world coming to?

I get a catalog from “Oriental Trading Company”. I remember this from years ago as a place you could find massive amounts of very cheap crafting supplies. Either that was a different catalog altogether, or it morphed into the current “way too many incredibly wasteful, insanely ugly, tiny foam things made of toxic chemicals in some Chinese sweatshop.”

But that’s not all! They recently sent me their Easter-themed “Inspirations: A Celebration of Faith” issue.

Nothing says “I love God” than

1. Cross-shaped lollipops
2. 4 1/2 inch plush bears wearing “He Lives!” t-shirts
3. Foam and rhinestone cross ornament kits
4. “Smile! Jesus Loves You!” rubber punch balls
5. Lamb of God gummy candies

Bedtime drama storyboard

The scene: A suburban home, 9 pm on an icy winter evening.

The family rejoices as the Papa returns from a week out of town. After enjoying a late dinner, the children are put to bed. A few minutes later...

Hearing the children's bedroom door open, the Mama goes out to check on the kids. The little girl says in a sad voice, "Mama, I threw up." Upon investigation, Mama indeed finds that the pillow, sheet, wool mattress pad, wool sweater and wool long underwear are all casualties. She cleans up, changes sheets and jammies, and rocks the little girl back to sleep. Just as the Mama turns out the light...

Blurp! Another round. This time the Mama enlists the Papa's help, since this time the carpet and the daughter's hair are added to another set of bed linens and jammies out of the running. Much scurrying around of parents ensues, while the subdued daughter looks on. Everything is restored to normal, but then...

"Mama, I have to throw up again," the daughter says as the Mama tries to rock her to sleep a second time. The Mama nimbly transports the girl to the bathroom, where for the first time, there is no collateral damage. The girl, once finished, says she feels better, but by now is sagging with lethargy. While the Papa continues scurrying, taking laundry to the basement, the Mama tries one last time to rock the girl to sleep. This time, success.

Camera pans across the children's room to reveal: big brother quietly snoring, having slept through the entire evening's drama. Fade to: living room clock, striking 10 pm. Fade out.

Winter fun, finally

We finally got a decent snow. All morning yesterday we had freezing rain, then a bit of snow to top things off in the afternoon. We spent the day inside, wearing our jammies, listening to the little ticks of ice hitting the windows and skylight.

After so many days inside the house, this morning we went outside immediately after breakfast. It's been below freezing for several days so our humble little brook looks like this:


I've been kind of a neurotic mama about the kids getting wet this winter. It's not like the brook is more than ankle deep right now, and it's not like it would take more than 30 seconds to get the kids inside if they got wet. But I just can't help it. The snow was so hard and slippery that at one point today Napoleona had slipped down just onto the edge of the ice, and was getting scared that she couldn't climb back up. Somehow in that moment I was able to be calm and help her. Maybe because I had to actually take action instead of just brooding on my fears.

We've been having fun experiencing the different kinds of snow. We haven't had any this year, but last year we remember a few days with wet snowball-making snow. The snow this year has all been very powdery and dry, until this last storm which left us with very icy, crunchy hard-packed snow. The kids' feet hardly left marks as they walked, and I left big cracked indentations, much bigger than my actual feet. And because the surface was so slippery, the kids found that the path beside our neighbor's house made a perfect slide:


And shoveling and plowing such hard snow left piles of big snow chunks everywhere. So, there was much climbing and sliding down snow mountains and creating snow chunk sculptures.


Growing up in Southern California, I had absolutely no experience with snow or ice until after I was married and moved to the Sierra Nevadas. And it's only now that I'm coming to enjoy it alongside the kids. Certain grandparents (you know who you are!) grumble mightily about winter and look forward to moving to sunnier climes. For me, I love the variety of the seasons, and I wouldn't want my kids to miss these experiences as I did as a child.

Adventures in miso soup making

Today for lunch I decided to make miso soup. I got out the kombu and brought it to the boil, turned the flame down low and dumped in some bonito flakes, strained the dashi, cut up the kombu and put it back in, put in some frozen peas to simmer, and then added some whole wheat noodles (really spaghetti but we'll pretend they were soba) and a dash of soy sauce. Yum, right?

Notice anything missing?

I...forgot...the...MISO!

My brain is definitely on hold until Anthropapa gets back.

PS: How did Japanese people store bonito before Ziploc bags were invented, without their houses reeking of fish? Did they just not mind the reek?

Randomness at 11:45 pm

Anthropapa is 250 miles away this week for a training class. Urg. I've been inside with the kids for days, a combination of illness, cold weather, and the fact that I can't seem to get to bed before 11 pm and the kids can't seem to sleep later than 6:30 am. Evidently that's not enough sleep for me! And now we're supposed to have an oh-so wonderful day tomorrow, filled with sleety weather, kids having major cabin fever, and me feeling less than patient with it all.

On the brighter, or more random, side:

Today the kids ran around the house playing with purses and wallets. They got Target gift cards from a grandparent for Valentine's day, and a few quarters for fun from Papa. But despite our ongoing efforts to avoid teaching them materialistic consumerism, they kept coming up to me and whining "We need more money!" I felt like saying "Don't we all?" but sarcasm is lost on toddlers.

The wikipedia article I've been working on was unlocked though the arbitration proceeds undecided. I recently realized that compared to the three other main editors--a Waldorf parent for 15 years, and two experienced teachers--I have less knowledge to impart about the topic. However I can provide a mediating influence in this rather heated environment. So, I've decided to focus on the process rather than the content: fostering consensus, encouraging neutrality, focusing on improving the content rather than pushing personal agendas, etc. Hmmm, maybe that's why I'm not getting enough sleep.

Napoleona has decided to take imitation to the next level. SillyBilly threw up a few times today, but seemed pretty much OK. Probably just a little stressed by being inside for so many days and missing his Papa. But every so often today Napoleona would pipe up with "My tummy hurts too!" or "I'm sick too!" I tried to tell her that being sick isn't exactly something we should wish for, but she just didn't get it.

I bought business cards for myself, and joined a freelancer's association. Rationally I can see that if I'm trying to build up steady work for myself, I need to invest a little at the start. But part of me feels totally pretentious, like what I'm doing is really just a hobby or something. I will be able to deduct these things come tax time next year, so that's something. Editing is something I've never been formally trained to do, I've never been fully employed at doing, and so it kind of feels like I'm just faking it as I go along.

I am from...

I am from endless California sunshine and brown summer skies. I am from palm trees lining streets like an endless queue of ducklings. I am from crashing Pacific waves, distant islands like smoky mirages, and oil drilling platforms lit up at night like far-off fairy palaces. I am from rivers wrapped in concrete, never to flood again.

I am from hot pink bouganvillea, golden yellow grass, oak trees so large their branches form enormous circles touching the ground around their massive trunks. I am from rattlesnakes creeping across my path, coyotes howling in the night, and shy brown rabbits munching on well-mown park grass. I am from hawks endlessly circling in the bright blue sky. I am from night skies so bright I could hardly see stars. I am from avocado orchards, orange and lemon trees in the backyard, brilliant green lettuce fields as far as I could see.

I am from houses built too close to the water falling into the ocean, houses built on hills sliding down, houses built in narrow valleys being consumed by wildfire. I am from earthquakes waking us up in the middle of the night, shaking us into doorjambs or under desks at school, cracking the sidewalk and our patio floor. I am from the smell of burning grass as flames lick their way up over the nearest ridge. I am from wildflowers immediately sprouting from the blackened earth.

I am from riding my bicycle up and down my street with my dog in the bike basket. I am from playing Nancy Drew mysteries on the playground with my girlfriends. I am from trying to beat the Guinness Book world record for swinging the longest, as long as recess lasted. I am from proudly wearing my Brownie uniform, resplendent with patches, every Wednesday to school. I am from looking on in wonder at the fancy sportscars in the high school parking lot.

I am from driving down the big hill to see my Grandma every weekend. I am from driving out to my aunt's house every Christmas Day. I am from driving endlessly on highways, watching the red and white lights stretch on into infinity through the car window. I am from watching the world blur and drip as the rain dances down the window when we got stuck in traffic. I am from six car accidents, one broken wrist, one facial scar and much broken glass and dented metal.

I am from In-N-Out Burger juice dripping down my chin. I am from bomb pops from the ice cream truck circling the neighborhood, endlessly playing "Pop Goes the Weasel" from a loudspeaker. I am from bologna sandwiches on white bread with mayonnaise. I am from always being jealous that my mother got to lick the chocolate cake bowl while I only got the beaters. I am from burritos and quesadillas, Thai sriracha sauce with my tod mun, chicken pizza with creamy garlic sauce.

I am from three little dogs wagging their tails at me when I come home from school. I am from taking each one of them to be put down by the vet in their extreme old age. I am from having four cats and a dog, and realizing that's too many pets for one house. I am from always wanting a cat, and never getting one until I grew up and moved out. I am from helping feed orphaned baby birds, using eye droppers and toothpicks. I am from having conversations with crows, laughing at the arrogance of wild turkeys, and shivering with awe as a herd of deer thunder past me.


Thanks to Charlotte for inspiring me.

The Seven Rules of the Toddler

I just unearthed this from a folder of early childhood resources from a class I took right after my son was born.

1. If I like it, it is mine.
2. If it is in my hands, it is mine.
3. If I can take it from you, it is mine.
4. If I had it a little while ago, it is mine.
5. If it is mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way.
6. If I am doing or building something, all of the pieces are mine.
7. If it looks just like mine, it is mine.

SillyBilly will take his "special things" (which change daily) and put them up on a high shelf that Napoleona can't reach. And they will both hoard books on their laps so the other can't read them.

I was an only child, therefore I never developed this need for hoarding. ALL the books and toys were mine! I could share with magnanimity when I so chose. So I find this behavior just at bit mystifying and quite a bit irritating.

Thoughts on Waldorf Traditions

As I mentioned a few days ago, I've been editing the Waldorf Education article on Wikipedia. There is a core group of editors, both supportive and critical of Waldorf, who have been involved for many months, working to improve the article's neutrality and breadth of content.

One of the editors who (if we were taking sides outright) would be on the "con" side, has pointed out that in many Waldorf schools, things are done out of tradition or dogmatic following of anthroposophy, the spiritual philosophy that is the basis for Waldorf methods. I've found this to be true as well.

One big example is the Michaelmas festival, which I wrote about here this autumn. I love this festival, which comes at my favorite time of year. I won't go into much detail about it, but the essence of the imagery is that Michael the Archangel overcomes the dragon. There are many metaphorical layers to this image: light vs. dark, spirituality vs. materialism, truth vs. deception.


Most (if not all) Waldorf schools in the US celebrate this festival, as I'm sure do most European ones. This festival is greatly appreciated in the anthroposophical world, and was lectured on many times by Rudolf Steiner, the creator of Waldorf education and anthroposophy.

However, I think this festival is currently celebrated by schools as a matter of tradition, where many other autumn festivals could be worked with equally well. This kind of tradition, coming from Steiner's (and the first Waldorf school's) Western European and Christian background, has been criticized as being overly eurocentric and Christian given the multicultural nature of modern America.

Steiner admonished us to think freely at all times, never to follow dogma or a guru blindly in place of our own free will. If we think freely about the Michaelmas festival, we may see that it is a celebration of light, of spirit. Many other festivals, or even newly created celebrations, could just as effectively represent these universal concepts. Several that come to mind are Hannukah, Divali, and Samhain. Extending the image to harvest time as a gathering of cosmic light into our food, I think of Sukkot, and Lughnasadh.


Don't get me wrong, I think the festivals as celebrated in Waldorf schools are wonderful, full of rich imagery that speaks to our spirits. And if Waldorf schools choose Christian European festivals, I have no problem with that in and of itself if that is the school's conscious choice, perhaps reflecting the composition of the student body. My problem comes when these festivals (and other practices) are chosen simply out of blind tradition, and do not truly speak to the multitude of cultures reflected in our population.

10 "V" things I like

Well, I'm just too fried right now to think very creatively, so I'll just take a stab at the "letter meme" passed on to me via Helen and Charlotte. I may have to bust out the dictionary for this one.

1) Violet. This kind of pastel color has steadily infiltrated my wardrobe since my kids were born. Waldorf early childhood theory says that babies need soft colors, more similar to what we think the womb is like, than the bright colors that are more appropriate for older children. So, I've come to peace with pink and violet after years of dark colors.

2) Vacation. I really like the sound of that. The last several vacations have been to see family, which is wonderful of course, but not the same as lounging on the beach with a fruity drink, or sleeping in all day with room service.

3) Velcro. Because it makes it possible for my toddlers to take off their own snow boots.

4) Vinculus. The grubby fortune-teller from Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell. I like how he was the bearer of the prophecy of the Raven King, yet was a total mooch not above shouting for gin amongst gentlemen. (Not my favorite character though; that would be Childermass.)

5) Vis medicatrix naturae. (Oh yes, we're using the dictionary now.) "The body's natural ability to heal itself." I'm a big believer in that, though as I commented to Papa Bradstein recently, that might just be my stoic Swedish upbringing.

6) Volcanoes. While I've never been able to see an active volcano, I was thrilled once by finding lots of obsidian at the foot of Mt. Konocti, a dormant volcano in Northern California. And I take a certain satisfaction that SillyBilly shares my love for volcanoes and can even tell you about pahoehoe and a'a.

7) Valentine's Day. While I've never celebrated it much, it's hard to argue with a day that revolves around love, presents and chocolate.

8) Vasilissa the Beautiful. A wonderful Russian fairy tale, beautifully illustrated by Ivan Bilibin. I love Baba Yaga, the old cranky forest wise woman/hag/witch who travels around in a pestle, and lives in a house that can walk on its chicken legs!

9) Volkswagen. We had a VW squareback when I was a little girl. I could always tell when my parents were coming to pick me up from school by the distinctive sound of the motor. Very fond memories.

10) Vermeer. Every painting is a glimpse into the culture and daily life of 17th century Delft. He was a master of light and texture, making things like a woman's skin or a glass goblet luminous.