Out of the Mouths of Babes, III

At the dinner table after Mama and Papa have been talking about work...

Napoleona: I'm going to have my workbooks to help my students.
Mama: You mean like Papa helps students? (Papa is the Registrar of Sunbridge College.)
Napoleona: Yeah.
Mama: Do you work at Papa's work?
Napoleona: No, at Grammy and Grampa's house.
Mama: You work at Grammy and Grampa's?
Napoleona: Next to their house.
Mama: You work at the Holderness School? (They live near this school in Plymouth, NH.)
Napoleona: Yes, the doors are wide open for me there. (Holding her arms out to the sides, wide open.)

Evidently Napoleona sees a bright future for herself in the education field.

Update: The Huntlings and I are going to visit the West Coast grandparents for the next two weeks while Papa works on his Master's degree. Postings may be sparse until we return.

Out of the Mouths of Babes, II

A conversation as we are driving home from running an errand:

SillyBilly: Mama, a lot of people have statues of Jesus and Mary in their yards.
Mama: Yes, sweetie, they do.
SillyBilly: Why do they do that?
Mama: Well, (thinking fast) they love Jesus and Mary and want something to remind them of it, and to make their yards pretty.
SillyBilly: I want a Jesus statue, Mama.
Mama: Why's that?
SillyBilly: Because I love Jesus so much.
Mama: Why do you love him?
SillyBilly: Because I'm grateful for the food.

Editorial note: I realize that's 3 or 4 pictures of Jesus and/or Mary on this blog. I'm not Catholic, I'm actually Jewish by birth and not anything formal by practice.

However, Mary and Jesus are an archetype of familial love and I am teaching my children about their story. Just as I tell them about Buddha and the Dalai Lama. Plus religious artwork is beautiful.

I also tell my children about their guardian angels and that they go up to visit heaven every time they sleep. I also tell them that when we die, we go to heaven for a while, and then after a nice rest up there we come back for another life down here.

We say or sing a different grace for each meal and then say "thank you for our meal" afterwards. We are trying to help our children learn about gratitude. Sometimes during the meal we talk about all the people and work involved in producing our food, just as we talk about what plants and animals provide our food. So, that's probably the source of this conversation.

Motherhood: Put Up or Shut Up?

Judith Warner, in the last Sunday NY Times, wrote a column about the socioeconomic stresses on parenthood. She references Barbara Dafoe Whitehead's lead essay in the "State of Our Unions" report, released recently by the National Marriage Project at Rutgers University.

The gist of Whitehead's essay was that today's parents are stressed out, anxious and depressed, in part because they were spoiled by their child-free years of fun, business achievements and disposable incomes.

Oh, OK. Before I had kids, I worked as a supervisor in a health insurance call center. Talk about stygian. I was always stressed out and depressed, because I HATED my well-paying successful job. I never looked back once I quit that job and count my lucky stars that we can survive on one income. So, if I have problems now, it's because I miss all that glamour??

Warner continues:

...to assert that mothers and fathers who express something other than Hallmark card sentiments about life with children somehow have issues with parenthood, is profoundly unfair. But it isn't new. For at least five years now, ever since "mommy lit" emerged as a best-selling book genre, there have been stolid folk who have been using words like "whiners" and "spoiled" to get parents -- and educated mothers in particular -- to put up or shut up. And the way they most commonly do this is to recast big social problems as the little personal problems of those who "complain" about them....The situation is the worst among -- Guess who? -- highly educated professional women....

It does seem that in our society we expect black and white opinions. Parenting is either exalted or stygian. If I describe how frustrating my toddlers are, apparently that makes me a spoiled overeducated whiner.

On the contrary, earth to Rutgers: toddlers have always been frustrating and challenging. It's the nature of the little beasts. Perhaps the advent of mommy lit and blogs has simply facilitated the widespread expression of these feelings.

Warner continues:

Yet "the rising chorus of complaint" that Whitehead and other critics decry is based upon rock-solid reality. The depression and anxiety and angst and guilt they see -- and trivialize -- aren't due to parents' cravings for bigger cars or better clothes; they're due to the fact that life for most parents is really hard. It's expensive and competitive and stressful and fatiguing, for reasons that have nothing to do with having a bad attitude toward the challenges -- and pleasures -- of child-rearing.

And:

Talking about these problems isn't a condemnation of parenthood; it's a condemnation of the way parenthood is being lived, in our culture, at this particular time...[these problems] require social change -- a new attitude toward collective responsibility, a new of infusion of meaning into debates about our nation's values.

If we are going to cast mothers into a madonna/complaining ungrateful shrew paradigm, then let's provide for mothers to live like madonnas. Let's provide ways for women to find good child care if they choose to work. Let's provide affordable health care so parents don't make decisions out of fear for their children's physical well-being. Let's help ensure economic stability to families so that parenthood doesn't equal poverty.

Out of the mouths of babes

SillyBilly's vocabulary list

1) Cilantula (trying to say cilantro): A hairy green spider, good in salsa.


2) A hassle of kids: What you get when all the neighbors get together to play.

3) Microscopity teeny tiny eeny weeny bite: describing his last bite of dinner (SillyBilly subscribes to the Zeno's dichotomy paradox method of eating his last bite).

Stories

SillyBilly: Mama, I'm the strongest person in the world.
Mama: Why's that?
SillyBilly: I can do things no one else can do.
Mama: Like what?
SillyBilly: I can crack stones. I can crack blocks. I can crack the world.

Napoleona's story, told to us after dinner tonight:

Once upon a time, there was a lion, an elephant and a tiger. They were walking through a deep, dark forest, and they found a cave. There was a light in the cave, and a monster came out. The monster bounced up and down. So the animals said "RRRAAAHHH" and the monster went back in the cave. Then the animals went to their own Africa and climbed up a tree, and they lived happily ever after.

Love and Pain

Terrors are to come. The earth
is poisoned with narrow lives.
I think of you. What you will

live through, or perish by, eats
at my heart. What have I done? I
need better answers than there are

to the pain of coming to see
what was done in blindness,
loving what I cannot save. Nor,

your eyes turning toward me,
can I wish your lives unmade
though the pain of them is on me.

-Wendell Berry, Openings, 1968

What a hard thing it is to be a parent. What a challenge to allow the child to be free to err, to inflict and experience pain, to suffer. How blind we are, in that we cannot see the future, we cannot prevent what calls to the child out of their destiny.

But how sure I am that I love them and will love them regardless. That they are perfect just as they are, and that my criticisms are based on blindness to that fact.

IKEA, How Do I Love Thee?

We spent yet another Saturday morning at IKEA with the Huntlings. We can't go on Sunday thanks to Paramus/Bergen County's lovely blue laws. Good thing we're not observant Jews or Muslims, or we'd never get our share of the big blue store.

Over the years we've developed a love/hate relationship with IKEA products. Healthy skepticism because of the prevalent plastic and particleboard versus love of their low prices and egalitarianism. It's nice to have stuff that is actually designed for form as well as function, but is it so nice to have things be almost disposable in quality?

From their vision:

The IKEA business idea is to offer a wide range of home furnishings with good design and function at prices so low that as many people as possible will be able to afford them.

We like that they are extremely kid-friendly. What other big store has such an awesome baby care room for changing diapers and breastfeeding (including a comfy armchair), yummy food, and play areas throughout the store?

Despite this, SillyBilly recently described IKEA as "stuff, stuff, stuff...not enough toys." He's still not completely toilet trained so he can't go into the big Småland play area yet, but he does love the paper measuring tapes and miniature pencils available in mass quantities.

Plus my maternal grandfather came from southwest Sweden, so I have a genetic love of Swedish things. My 2 year old already recognizes Dala horses and slurps up lingonberry jam.


There are a few things we've found that have become favorites:

Minnen Drake Dragon - Good protection against scary monsters.

Duktig play pots and pans - Good practice for those chores coming up in a few years.

Rens sheepskins - We used these in the bassinet and now as rugs in the kids' room.

Svit forks and spoons - Great kid-sized real cutlery.

Charm cheese grater - Totally cheap yet a great design.

Invitera teapot - Inexpensive yet a pretty color and shape.

Kladd bibs - Cheap and necessary when Napoleona only sometimes remembers not to use her fingers.

IKEA 365 big bowls and Rondo little bowls - We use these daily and they've lasted years with only a few chips.

And let's not forget the Swedish meatballs.

Pets=kids=pets?

(OK, I chose this image not just for the cat theme...it's essentially a highbrow version of dogs playing poker, and that is just funny.)

Before the Huntlings were born, we had 4 indoor cats and a dog. I used to muse on how pets seemed like kids.

We called our cats "little furry agents of chaos". They would regularly eat and spread around bouquets of flowers (with the obligatory spit up piles to follow), shed black hair on white things and white hair on black things, and knock over glasses of water left on the dining room table overnight.

Now we have toddlers who regularly spread toys all over the house, spit up/pee/poop/etc. on the couch/floor/clothes/etc., knock over anything they can reach, and draw on the walls.

Now that I am at home with the kids, I have become more obsessed with cleaning than ever before. When I was single and newlywed, I hated cleaning but always wanted a clean house. Since I couldn't afford a maid, our homes were pretty grungy, especially with all that animal hair. Now, I read books about cleaning written by Manhattan lawyers (who knew that baking soda paste would truly get black crayon off of butcher block counters?), articles about spiritualizing housework (who knew you could venerate your toilet as you clean it?), and I actually make the bed in the morning. Last night instead of lolling about reading the newspaper or blogging before bed, I scrubbed out the bathtub.

What happened? I chalk it up to will power. I've always wanted a clean house, now I actually get myself to do something about it. Instead of being lazy and miserable, I'm slightly less lazy and a lot less miserable.

I'm trying to be this way partly for my own sanity in the face of 4 little furry agents of chaos (2 of the 4 cats still with us, and the two new ones with opposable thumbs), and partly so that the Huntlings can learn both to make happen what they want in life and to keep their home clean.

So after breakfast when I'm doing the dishes and SillyBilly gets his broom and says "I'm going to do my morning chores Mama," I'm smiling.

Reading is Fundamental?

My kids already love books at three and two years old. Papa and I are big readers, so it's only natural that we would read to our kids and have lots of books around. We go to the library regularly and have many of our own kids' books too. I taught myself to read at age 4.

Now, Waldorf early childhood method proponents discourage reading before age 7 or so, because in the first 7 years the child has more of a "picture consciousness." Children in the early years work from the will, meaning through movement, and through imitation. Their life forces are working to form their physical bodies. Once the child hits 7 or 8, their life forces are free to help them develop more intellectual and memory functions (though they aren't really working with pure intellect yet).

So, I've been pondering lately whether we are doing the Huntlings a disservice in reading with them so much. It's true, Papa and I tend to be pretty sedentary, temperamentally speaking. Toddlers however are not sedentary beings and need to play, especially outdoors. Our kids are already fairly verbal and intellectual, so I am wary of over-stimulating that aspect so that they are out of balance.

I came across this item in the latest Utne magazine:

...Sky Hiatt makes a case against literacy, saying that the written word "corrodes time spent exploring the real world" and that raising children on books closes, not opens their minds, causing them to develop "patterns of thought honed into chapters dominated by idea fragments."
-Species Traitor: An Insurrectionary Anarcho Primitivist Journal

Well. I have a friend back in California who is homeschooling her kids partly so that they will experience things before they read about them. I'm not sure how she will work atomic theory into her curriculum, but I respect her thinking. I've looked at birding books with the Huntlings, but we get a much bigger kick out of seeing Robin Redbreast on the lawn or hearing a cardinal peeping at us from the tree by our front door.

There have been times when I consciously tried not to read. When SillyBilly was born he spent several weeks in the hospital, so we made the trip back and forth at least once a day on the highway. One day I decided I didn't want my brain filled with advertising, so I looked everywhere but at the numerous billboards and highway signs. It was incredibly hard to do. I think my brain is wired to look at words if they are available. One year for Lent (a convenient time to do this kind of thing even though we're not Catholic) I gave up reading for pleasure. That was even harder in a way, because I read for relaxation and at the time I had a fairly stressful office job. It was an ingrained habit I struggled to overcome.

So, are we condemning our kids to a life of compulsive reading? Or are we opening up a wonderfully rich world of knowledge and pleasure? Is it all in the timing as the Waldorf folks say?

Angry Nap

I spent an hour and a half trying to get Napoleona to sleep today, without success. Perhaps it's too hot and humid, perhaps she was overtired, perhaps she's just being a butthead.

It's a huge challenge to try not to be angry at times like this. Most of the time, I fail. For a while I am peaceful, non-violent-communication-using Mama. I think, the child is asking me to erect a boundary for her. I need to provide the boundary in a firm but kind way.

But after an hour and a half, she just won't be quiet. SillyBilly was so tired he passed out after a minute of rocking. So the girl child and I are sitting on my bed while he sleeps so that she won't disturb him. She can quietly read books while I distract myself from being angry. So much for sitting quietly with my emotions.

I start to get resentful that for all my work trying to create a nice naptime, I just end up frustrated and angry. I make the room dark and quiet, everybody gets a drink of water, then I rock and sing and tell stories. Nothing seems to calm her down. I try to use NVC and ask her what she needs, to which she replies, "Papa."

I know quite well that what she needs is sleep. And I need an afternoon break from being Mama. Today, neither of us gets what we want.

Papa and I used to joke, "It's a good thing these kids are so cute..." Most of the time I just need to look at them being their busy selves and I am overcome with a wave of love. Yesterday SillyBilly went to the grocery store with Papa and came back bearing a bouquet of chrysanthemums. "I got them for you to make you happy Mama." I had to hide my tears as I gave him a big hug and kiss. Napoleona has finally started to say and sing grace with us at meals, which always gets a big smile out of Mama and Papa.

But....today I shake my fist at all the grandparents for being too far away to come babysit.

Sneak Poop Attack

Recently SillyBilly finally decided to use the toilet. We have had a little plastic toilet for a long time, but he used it only grudgingly. Then he had a high fever (see previous post) and after that he said he wanted to wear big boy underwear.

So, now we're back to potty training. That term always sounds like puppy training to me, but really that's kind of how it is. Short of putting down newspapers in the corner, we sit on the potty about once every waking hour. It's amazing how focused a kid can be on playing, so that basic bodily functions are totally under the radar. Like puppies, they need constant vigilance and many, many repetitions.

It used to be that SillyBilly would invariably poop only when asleep. (I've wondered if it had something to do with needing to be out of his body before he could let go.) He has pretty sensitive skin, so sleeping with a poopy diaper would cause major weeping diaper rash. Then trying to change him would involve screaming and thrashing (him and me), often at 2 in the morning.

So, any movement (ha!) toward using the toilet has been fervently awaited. Now, while I am rocking Napoleona to sleep at naptime, SillyBilly goes potty all by himself. The first time I just heard the toilet flush in the other room and when I came out to get him, he said "Mama, I did a sneaky poop!"

Worthy of Imitation?

"The care with which an item is placed on a shelf, a door closed, or a chair moved is noticed and replicated by our young [children]. We must be consciously aware of the quality of our movements, for whether we like it or not, we will see the children mirror for us what we have presented to them as it emerges in their actions and play."

-Karen Smith, "The Role of Purposeful Work in a Waldorf Kindergarten"
The Online Waldorf Library

Yesterday as we ate our snack, I realized I was slouching. As I sat up straight, I watched SillyBilly sit up himself, even though he wasn't looking directly at me.

It was a powerful moment for me, bringing home the concept in anthroposophy that in the first 7 years, the child learns primarily through imitation.

I am not particularly physically active, in fact I love sitting very still while I read novels and eat chocolate. Yet I would like my children to be active and healthy. I love that my son is skinny and muscular, unlike myself as a chubby child. I want my kids to be able to use their bodies to achieve their goals, not be hindered by physical limitation. So it's a struggle to get myself active on their behalf.

I have also observed that when I act angry or impatient, so do the children. And whoever said "out of the mouths of babes" got it so right. It's always a moment of chagrin when a child repeats something they shouldn't have heard in the first place. Around here we don't use swear words anyway, but still I have heard Napoleona say to SillyBilly, "Don't do that ever again!" in a very stern tone.

What a gift it has been to understand that the young child imitates and must be active. Tonight we were all hungry and tired and dinner was not ready yet. The kids were getting a bit wild, so I put Napoleona in her high chair, called SillyBilly over, and we all ripped up chard leaves into a pot. This activity allowed them to calm down, focus their attention, and do purposeful work to get dinner done. There was very little ruckus after that. Magic!

Bugs and other wildlife

So far in the new house we have microscopic brown ants invading the cats' food dishes, enormous and very speedy ants cruising around the whole house, a wasp that Duncan unfortunately tried to play with, various tiny spiders and house flies.

Now, having lived in coastal areas of California, both Papa Hunt and I have lots of experience with ants, and aren't too fond of them. I remember a 2-3 inch wide swath of them crossing our living room from the sliding glass door to the kitchen trash. I remember ants coming inside in the summer for water and the winter for food.

In our last house we had ants that didn't try too hard. They would come munch on crumbs in the kitchen occasionally, and they liked any kibble bits the cats dropped on the floor, but really they never tried to invade. But I have a bad feeling about the ants here. I have never seen those tiny brown ones before, and the big ones are really fast and aggressive.

This morning we walked over to the Pfeiffer Center garden to buy some chard and green beans. They have a little pond with some koi and lots of lily pads waiting for some frogs. The Huntlings got a big kick out of the tadpoles the gardeners are cultivating in tubs next to the pond. We only saw one with the beginnings of legs so it will be a while before the pond is froggy. We also got to see some of the garden's bees coming to drink there.

Yesterday right by Papa Hunt's office we saw a big black rat snake. He (?) was in some tall grass in the sun, but when we stepped near, swoosh! That was a fast snake.



Then the other day, Papa Hunt saw a woodchuck standing on its hind legs munching on raspberries at our old house. I never knew something so fat and rolypoly could do that. (The woodchuck, not Papa.) Those raspberries sure are sweet though.

When I think back on our time in Sacramento, I remember lots of wildlife. The American River Parkway was home to many creatures year-round, including mule deer, turkeys, coyotes, red-tailed hawks, river otters, salmon, and acorn woodpeckers. But most of these animals are quite shy or difficult to spot, so that the Huntlings would have had trouble experiencing them.

I'm grateful that this area of New York, though built up, seems to have plenty of wildlife accessible to the kids. Also we can go visit the cows and chickens at the Fellowship farm, and go up a few times a year to Pleroma Farm to pick up shares of raw milk and eggs. I want my kids to know about domestic animals and where their food comes from, as well as the wild animals around us. I think this knowledge helps children feel more secure and comfortable in the world.

Brookside living

Aaahh, moving. The best I can say is, we know where all of our possessions are. They are in the basement.

We live in a community where a non-profit educational foundation owns the land and most of the buildings, including housing. So, every July 1 there is a big shuffle among students, faculty and staff of the various entities involved.

We were in a very small basement apartment. It had its good qualities, but primarily it was dark, damp, and had a very creaky ceiling. So we took our chance and moved onto some "on-campus housing" as Papa puts it so well.

Our new house is about the same size as the last, but it's a duplex with no one above us, and a full basement below us, so the previous problems are gone. Also we have a brook in the backyard, to the delight of the Huntlings. The picture isn't of our brook, but that's remarkably close to how it looks.

Moving is always a mixed bag for me. I love to move into a new clean space, full of possibilities for arranging our nest. This time we moved into a space with some measure of "charm," meaning for us wood floors, lots of windows, walls painted something other than white (in this case, butter yellow, pink, and lavender...not as freaky as it sounds, I promise) and the aformentioned brook.

However we chose to paint our old apartment because it sorely needed it. And I always find it hard to focus on cleaning up the old place when a new tantalizingly fresh space awaits. And it's been raining or at least crazy humid for days, making everything about moving just that much more icky.

At least this time no one got the flu, put out their back, got towed (thanks to Papa Bradstein for that walk down memory lane!), or otherwise suffered. Papa Hunt is a pretty tired pup right now, but we survived.

Now we just need a phone, an ISP, window coverings (did I mention our front yard view is the dorm?)....

Cardboard boxes, packing tape and sharpie pens, oh my

We are moving to a new house tomorrow, so no posts for a few days. Trying to keep kids amused and out from underfoot while packing and cleaning is a challenge, and I'm too tired to be creative!

If you need something fun to read, check out Papa Bradstein, an old friend pondering impending fatherhood.

Trucks and ice cream

This last Saturday we went to the annual Touch a Truck charity event. For $20 we got free lunch, ice cream, and the kids got to climb on see loads of trucks. Unfortunately our camera batteries died so we don't have pictures, but we climbed on a fire truck, police motorcyle and van and at least 3 excavators. There were rescue Hummers, police cruisers, tow trucks and concrete mixers too.

Needless to say, this went over very well with the Huntlings.

One strange moment happened when we were eating our ice cream. A woman stood near us with her kids. She handed her 3 or 4-year-old daughter an ice cream and said, "This has 12 grams of fat, which is a lot, so don't eat it all." That's verbatim.

Now, the mom did have nice biceps and all, but how can I even explain how wrong she sounded? Like a little kid should care, or even know, about fat grams? And "don't eat it all"?????

Our family loosely follows the Nourishing Traditions diet, so we don't fuss about fats too much. In fact, we celebrate fats because they are helping the kids digest well, and grow healthy nervous systems. Also we are trying to make eating a joyful experience, so that our children can enjoy a wide variety of foods. The Huntlings eat green salad, sushi, sauerkraut, and Napoleona even likes kombucha! I don't know if we just hit the unpicky eater jackpot, or if we did something right.

Fear and Loathing in New York

"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 sensibilities concerning the future. We must look forward with absolute equanimity to all that may come, and we must think only that whatever comes is given to us by a world direction full of wisdom.
-Rudolf Steiner

Noble thoughts. But easy to achieve? Oh yeah, nothing Steiner talked about is easy to achieve, I forgot.

I have found that it is a constant struggle not to be fearful as a parent. Between the specters of illness, traumatic injury and lifetimes of therapy caused by inept parenting, I am this close to an asthma attack at any moment.

I wonder how much of that has to do with the media in our culture. I haven't watched broadcast or cable television in about 5 years except for small doses in relatives' houses. When I do watch, I am struck by the perpetual violence in much of the programming. It seems that what is most popular today is the cop show, but these are not like Hill Street Blues from my childhood. These are shows about serial killers, shows that depict detailed forensics including photos of crime victims (somehow more disturbing than the corpses on Six Feet Under), and shows that include violence involving children.

I still cannot understand why this is entertaining to so many people. I understand the concept of an adrenaline rush from something scary or suspenseful, but to willfully, constantly expose yourself to this kind of extreme violence? Not fun for me.

My family is lucky to live where it is relatively safe for the kids to play freely. We are in a suburban, almost rural location where many of our neighbors are parenting out of trust for their children. Meaning, it's normal for a bunch of kids to be running around in our yard and even in the forest nearby often with little supervision (grade school kids I mean.) The parents seem to trust that their kids will be OK, and many of them consciously cultivate in their children a concern and awareness of the others so that they keep each other safe.

I am trying to learn that kids will get hurt and it's OK. Kids get sick and it's OK. They have angels watching over them and destinies to fulfill. I am trying to believe that my effort to parent appropriately will bear fruit even if I often don't succeed. I am trying to foster equanimity in my soul by working with my own soul life and emotional history, so that I can work with my children with kindness and compassion.

Does natural always equal good?

A few months ago I was having an email conversation with an old friend about wool. My friend is vegan, and had many valid concerns about environmental impacts and treatment of animals. I was arguing for the utility and spiritual benefits of natural fibers versus synthetics, as promoted by Waldorf early childhood methods.

He asked: is there anything natural that is not good? Well, certainly getting eaten by a shark or burnt by lava would not be good.

OK that was a little facile, but it points to the subjectivity of good. I think we are so distanced from the source of our material goods (no pun intended) that we tend to think natural fibers are automatically OK. But what about commercial sheep farms: are the sheep being treated in a way that is congruent with my values? And what about commercial cotton, a crop typically grown with the highest concentrations of toxic chemicals?

Perhaps the answer there is to buy organic. But then, are organic standards really useful anymore? Sure, if I buy an organic product from a huge corporation, it's an improvement over buying something that loads the world with more chemicals. But if we're talking about really caring for each participant in the process of creating our stuff (animals, plants, farm workers, mill workers, sewing machine operators, I could go on...) then how can we possibly know if what we are supporting through our dollars is really OK? As my friend put it, is ethical treatment really scalable and sustainable? I buy raw dairy products from a local farm because I know the farmer and I can go there and see how the animals are treated and how the milk is processed. But, the milk is $7.50 a gallon! So, not sustainable for most of the population.

I buy wool and cotton clothing for my children and myself because I think our bodies have a better relationship with natural fibers. Their wool underwear keeps the kids toasty but not crazy sweaty warm, because of the intrinsic properties of wool. That said, I am sure glad I have their PVC rain suits and their polyfill snow suits. Those materials aren't next to their skins for long periods, and they are just practical in this climate.

I have a little daydream where we live in a cooperative community that includes a farm. We share childcare, the kids work on the farm, we produce our own food, we take care of our elders, etc. That sounds scalable and sustainable to me. Now, how can I achieve that without a major cash infusion?

Nonviolent Communication and Children

"[The] objective of getting what we want from other people, or getting them to do what we want them to do, threatens the autonomy of people, their right to choose what they want to do. And whenever people feel that they're not free to choose what they want to do, they are likely to resist, even if they see the purpose in what we are asking and would ordinarily want to do it."

-Marshall Rosenberg, Raising Children Compassionately

"Young children respond to being shown how to act and live rather than being told. I tried to teach through the example of my actions and left the teaching through words and logic for a later age....When I want to establish a boundary for the child I try to be as conscious of myself as possible. I try to put any form of emotion behind me. It helps when I can speak with a quiet voice. I do not allow myself to be moved from the stance I have taken, and if necessary I repeat what I have said. Thereby I assure the child of the enduring relationship I have to him."
-Margret Meyerkort in Lifeways: Working with family questions

Recently I have been trying to work with the principles of Nonviolent Communication (NVC) designed by Marshall Rosenberg. My questions surround how these techniques work with children. The center of the techniques is to calmly verbalize the conflict situation: When I see (hear, observe, etc.)...I feel...because I need....Would you please...? For example: When I see you hit your sister, I feel scared because I need her to be safe. Would you please use words instead of hitting?

In theory, and sometimes in practice, this works great even with children. But I wonder how this works with the anthroposophical/Waldorf idea that young children need to be guided with authority, and that the young child cannot rationalize yet and should be directed primarily through actions instead of words.

Many times instead of using words with Napoleona, I will simply move her bodily away from whatever is happening that I would like to stop. In fact, she has an uncanny ability to become totally deaf when I am verbally asking her to stop doing something! Waldorf parents are familiar with this is a sign of the overriding "will" phase of early childhood, where the child is ruled as it were by the will and bodily senses and not the intellect or emotions.

But SillyBilly is a bit intellectual and awake for his age, so sometimes I have tried the NVC technique with him, and sometimes it works. I have definitely seen that if I try to remove emotion from my voice, he listens to me more easily and the situation doesn't deteriorate. The big question here is, in using all of these words am I working with his actual state of being, or am I promoting wakefulness in an unbalancing way?

The Purpose and Meaning of Fever

"Thermoregulation and fever also have a soul-spiritual aspect....When we have a good idea or wax enthusiastic about an ideal, warmth can literally shoot into our limbs. Conversely, fear, anger or great sorrow...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."

-A Guide to Child Health, Michaela Gloeckler and Wolfgang Goebel

Today, SillyBilly had a blazing hot fever, diarrhea, stomach pains and vomiting. He was listless and whiny.

My first reaction is to freak out and say, GIVE ME A MAGIC DRUG TO MAKE IT ALL BETTER! I start to worry that he's too hot, that he'll have a seizure, that he has appendicitis, God knows what.

But then, being a good anthromama, I remember that fever is our friend.

I think, it's important to be calm and reassuring, which is really hard if you're freaking out. So I think to myself, I am now calm and reassuring, watch me be competent, here I go. I make SillyBilly take tiny sips of chamomile tea, I bundle him up in my bed, I help him throw up without ruining the bed, I read quietly to him, I hold his hand as he takes an unheard of morning nap.

Then when he wakes up and seems even hotter, I calmly prepare warm lemon water, soak a pair of my cotton socks in the water and wring them out, put them on SillyBilly's legs with a top coat of my wool socks, tuck him under the bedsheet and read more stories to him. I repeat this three times and then try lemon water compresses since he's complaining about the socks feeling funny.

SillyBilly keeps sipping chamomile tea with honey, and takes another afternoon nap with Papa. When he wakes up, he's talking, playing with toy cars, asking for food and feels much less hot.

TRIUMPH!

OK, so I left out the part where I frantically checked my childcare books for reference to appendicitis, intussuception, and other scary things. I left out the part in the morning where we checked him for meningitis with the "kiss your knee" test. I checked his temperature with a thermometer only once (102.5) and the rest of the time we used our hands to judge.

Now I'm wondering if he'll be different tomorrow. I have read that many people have noticed developmental changes in their children after high fevers and other serious illnesses. One thing so far is that right before bed, he spontaneously announced he had to pee, and went in the potty! Perhaps we are on the road to potty training after all.

To diaper or not to diaper, that is the question

"There is a sense of urgency about childhood - of hastening progress, of accelerating development. Is this born out of wanting the best for children or from some belief or value base which says the state of childhood is worth less than the state of adulthood and so we must do all we can to reach the day when childhood is over...But children have their own pace and while, as adults, we pursue our own (and others') time scales and agendas, we need to be mindful of the need young children have to take their time. "
-Cathy Nutbrown, from Gateways, Spring/Summer 1999

I quote this because we are in the middle of potty training SillyBilly. He is resisting it, saying vehemently that he does not want to wear underwear, he does not want to sit on the potty. He doesn't care about being a big boy, going to kindergarten, wearing big boy underpants, or any other motivational tool we tried (though we haven't tried money, he's really into coins). He also tells me directly that he still wants to be a baby.

I want to respect his feelings, but I also really want to potty train him. I know he physically can do it, and he can learn to pay attention to the physical sensations ahead of time. But am I rushing him? Is he insecure in some way that is making him need to stay in the baby state a little longer? Did our separation for the first month of his life make him more needy now?

In the anthro world we talk about the parent (particularly the mother) needing to be the "ego" for the child for the first several years, as they are too involved with forming their physical bodies to be completely present consciously. In this case, should I be the ego and state unequivocably that it's time to potty train....or should I back off and let him be a willing participant?

It seems doomed to fail, and indeed doomed to many years of psychotherapy, if I force him in this. But part of me also feels like I could be letting him down by not being the strong ego in this interaction, something I struggle with anyway.