The house's latest make over

Besides spring in a pot/on a plate on the pine farm table in front of the sliding glass door, this weekend will mean the end of a famous piece of our house: the half-peeled wallpaper in the kitchen. Saturday, we PAINT.

Of course, that also means a good by to my favorite section of unpeeled wallpaper backing: the one that looks suspiciously like Scotland. Or maybe that is just my genetic memory kicking into gear. But I will miss staring at it during dinner. I guess I will have to frame a map or something.

So the walls will be a delicate gray that matches the gray in one of our Gangloff beer posters. There will be bits and pieces of scarlet and black, and a chalkboard wall. And eventually, a painted tree will wrap itself around the sliding glass door (which now sports a fancy-shmancy new curtain rod and a plain, unbleached linen drapery I sewed with raw edges and fancy stitching that matches the uh, um, well, rather turquois formica). There may even be corkboard squares, although I am a big fan of making our own out of wine corks. So save us your corks!!

"All our words are but crumbs that fall down from the feast of the mind." ~Khalil Gibran.

We have an absolute smorgasbord of mind crumbs around here. Sometimes that works, and sometimes it is too many flavors at once.

I feel like I am always trying to streamline the sound, the flavor, into a palatable six course meal. But who gets to be dessert? Who's the drink? The main dish (me, of course).

We've had to talk a lot about fairness and what that really means. I mean, really, who DOES get to be the main dish? And do they get to be that all the time?

I have begun to find the balance of mommy-ing all these kids at once. Sometimes I think those mom who push out four kids in four years had the right idea. They just load them all into car seats or playgroup or the local museum for preschool activities and plow through their day (I canNOT imagine what all that would be like for a breastfeeding mother. I assume there is a lot of forced early weaning).

But there are moments when sibling rivalry or just plain nastiness takes over and I find myself swimming in a sea of uncertainty (just to use a cliche). How do they all know I love them? How do they know it doesn't matter to me whether their dad lives in Colchester or here in this house... I love them all equally.

Oh, I have tried to understand that favorites thing. Some of my friends freely admit they have a "favorite" in their bunches of offspring. But I truly cannot imagine such a thing. Once, Mom told me this story about a family of sibs that were talking after their mom died. Eventually one says, "Ya know, mom told me I was her favorite." And another looks up, surprised, and says, "Mom told ME I was her favorite." This went on, through all the siblings, and MY mom said, "Each of them got to feel they were special."

During a week of extra duress, I tried this on my older two (the younger two being too young to know what that means in any way) only to have them both respond, individually and with indignation, "BUT MOM! That's not FAIR!"

And I grinned, and smiled, and told them the story, and then said how proud I was of them for thinking about their siblings and wanting for them what they want for themselves.

Since then, I have decided that my smorgasbord and cacophony of kids and love is exactly the way it should be.

Even when they are yelling that they wish someone else would "just go away. I don't want ****/* here!" (Insert name of your choice).

Religious sustainability??

As we think about social justice and mission around the world, particularly in light of the Haiti situation, I find myself wondering more and more about churches and sustainability... and churches and natural parenting... and supporting families and communities intelligently and deeply in ecological sustainability in their choices.

What I am talking about goes beyond salad window boxes and changing light bulbs, although that is an excellent place to start. How do we support breastfeeding, organic/local foods, energy efficiency, cloth diapers, re-use fashion, and community integration into food and child care and education systems? Dare we? What role does God play in this? What role do churches play?

Any thoughts?

Time On Home

It's been what? almost TEN months since we moved into this house. Milo is three months old, Aidan and Nadia began the first round of birthdays here in our "forever house" and we're getting used to the ills of real rural living (no gas stations near by, massive chicken losses not by dog but by fox and weasel, and lack of abundantly friendly neighbors).

But we are slowly making progress on the house itself. Colin discovered some more wet spots when removing the second window in Aidan's room and realized until the cold breaks there is almost nothing we can do to rehab properly in the upstairs. So we will reevaluate the priority list, and I am hoping to put the kitchen and hallway paint jobs on the top of the list.

We've come to love our newest free couch, the one with "modern lines" and cat scratches already in place, along with an unbelievably ugly christmas tree upholstery. Now I spend days devising how to get rid of the big pink ugly thing that lives in the middle of the room, and what to replace it with. For now, the purple couches stay, one up in Sage and Aidan's combined living quarters, and one homeless, living in the living room. I am ultimately hoping to have two more comfortable, and rather large chairs in its place. My mid century dresser made it to the living room and now holds games, videos (yes we still watch a vcr with regularlity... I know they are the ultimate piece of obsolete technology), dvds, and some video games. The stereo and tv/dvd now reside side by side on top... all where those huge crappy Big Lots shelves used to be. They now live in the opposite corners of the living room, two near the big front windows, and three by the piano. (pictures soon). Partly this a design decision that allows the sunlight to bounce of the purposely painted pale green wall, and partly a decision that gets the ugly things out of where I stare everyday. Plus, Colin wants to build "built-ins" there someday, so this gives us an idea of what that will look like and how it will function. Now the old game cabinet is my dresser again (like it was when I was 17... I am oh SO happy!) And mid century dressers make chic and hip vintage living room consoles (and Col and I are nothing but chic and hip, right? haha ha *gasp*). And since we watch the computer more than the tv, soon we'll have that hooked up through the stereo... giving us a sweet little hang out space.

In the kitchen, we've started some old beet tops on a plate and they are growing beautifully. Also in the works in that sunny spot on our farm table in front of the sliding door: mango pits, avocado trees, lentils, squash, corn, and peppers.

We've found the color palate for the kitchen in the old Gangloff Biere posters... a grey and black and red that will look oh so swank when we're done. Since food is our ultimate pleasure... why not have a swsnky kitchen? And because it is truly the center of our day, the black will be chalkboard paint, the big wall will also have corkboards to post schedulues, etc on. We also hope to improve upon the lighting... and my new favorite idea is simple corded lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling that have the bulb inside a Ball canning jar. What an awesome (and cheap) and cool look.

OK, now that the idle things I waste my time on have been described, let's get to the meat of our time lately.

Aidan is signing up for big kids drama club (and I am wondering what Disney-inspired crap we'll have to endure for this), and a drumming class at River Arts in Morrisville. He's helping out the little kids on FUn FItness Fridays with sledding and snow shoeing and tracking. Sage is hoping to start a hip hop dancing class at River Arts, and is skiing. She's hoping Anners will be able to take her to the OUtdoor Center in Craftsbury sometime soon. Nadia has Zeke over here Mondays, and she goes to his house on Fridays while I am up at Sterling (which I love, and if I could find permanent childcare could mean a job at least for the summer). We've simplified and simplified all routine from day schedule to bedtime to what there is to eat for lunch (rice and soy sauce and pes or edamame everyday is the only thing she will consistently eat). We're making progress everywhere but potty (although she does beautifully when around potty trained children). Milo is rolling _alomst_ over and growing at a fair clip. His fussing now includes a distinct "mmm-mmmm-mmmm" sound when he is looking for me. And we've discovered he cannot handle cow's milk formula (not a huge surprise in this family)... so we are hoping to check out goat milk for the occasional bottle.

Well, I am off to get the big ones, some pizza dough (For some reason I can make muffins and breads but not decent pizza dough) for dinner, and drop Sagey to work with COlin. I hope to have some time to help the big kids rearrange their big room into usable "apartment-like" space to share since it now looks like Aidan will live in there for the rest of the school year.

My love to you all and pictures posted soon.

January Thaw

The January thaw has found us with mud on the kitchen floor, Nadia vomiting, and the dog quite ill. So in the midst of MLK day tomorrow, we'll be at the vet (or at least everyone who isn't driving an oil truck or throwing up).

Today, that means instead of taking a walk outside like I wanted to, we are inside, and I am doing multitudes of laundry, and yet again giving the house the ol' tea tree and vinegar cleansing. Ah, to spring clean all year long!

Life with actual carpets has completely revolutionized our days... now that the living room floor isn't unbearably cold and hard, the kids are found rolling around, wrestling, playing fort and dress up, or sitting around the old cedar trunk playing cards. Colin and I often join them, or curl up there after everyone (ha!) goes to bed, and have a drink and play a game of Scrabble.

As the new year progresses, I find myself finally feeling "home" here in our cozy little house. I have figured out some of the trick to keeping the house the right temperature, how often I need to take out the boot rug and wash it, and how to keep the porcelain sink clean. Zeke is coming over again, once a week, to play with Nadia and she is heading to his house to play on Fridays, when I go up to Sterling. I am really enjoying life in the admissions office, finding the filing and data input to be meditative and relaxing. I am also interviewing families for some more part time care here in the house for the spring. We'll let you know how that progresses.

Today I can only write a little, as I have sheets and blankets galore to wash and dry before Colin and I can sleep, and the little wool rug needs a scrubbing.

I hope the thaw has found you all as well, and warms you a bit before the cold of February. I know "back home" March brings spring, but here the winter really settles in after the January thaw, and we must set our jaws, and face the wind, and shout to the four corners "Bring it on!" in order to make it through to May and June.

80s fashion

OK, so I really do have good reasons for not keeping up with my blog, despite the fact that I keep meaning to put real effort into it. First is that procrastination reins supreme in my soul. Second is that I am far too busy liking and unliking things in the virtual world of snippeted information on facebook, blogger, and pandora radio. After all, everyone wants my opinion, right?
Which leads me to the fact that probably no one wants my opinion. And with a whole world of blogs and columns like Joel Stein's out there, who needs one more self-righteous, pseudo-writer vomiting letters across your computer screen? So, with a healthy-dose of run-away self-esteem, I bury my nose in the importance of everyday things, like watching Milo's head expand while scrubbing off the cradle crap... I mean, cradle cap.And as interesting as his sebaceous glands are to me... well, they really don't make for riveting blog material.
There are some physical restraints, also. After all, it is hard to use your hands when your arms each have a breastfeeding child in them. And even when I am only performing one-sided lactation, well, typing takes longer than usual. And Dear Hunny-Bunny took my step-stool-so-vintage-its-cool metal chair downstairs and hid it under enough stuff to deter me from bringin it back into the kitchen. True, it adds to the clutter. True, the children fight over sitting in it. True, it is wobbly. But it is also the only thing that makes me tall enough to comfortable hit the letters on the keyboard. Geesh. No one ever thinks about _me_ and _my_ height issues.
But in spite of all my deliciously self-centered reasoning, the new year has brought me some perspective. After all, I love to write, and it really doesn't matter if anyone is reading it, right? And after all, you are all very polite (and very far away) relatives who are kind enough to comment now and then, egging me on and taking what you can get of the kids because I am notoriously bad at sending pictures, video, snail mail, etc of what they're all up to. After all, I still have everyone's Christmas presents from when we lived in the trailer. So this is, in part, also a gift to all of you.
Now, where to actually begin? After all, I have covered... or uncovered... a large majority of my personal neuroses in the last four paragraphs. Doesn't leave much to cover, does it?
Let's start here: I have an incredibly embarrassing and deeply-held admission to make. Here goes: I secretly love the return of 80's fashion.
Now this hurts for a number of reasons. First of all, my new favorite shirt is the true embodiment of this predicament. It is long. It is flannel. It only cost twelve dollars, and that includes the tank top that came with it. Actually, it was free-to-me (not free-to-be) because I purchased it with a gift card. It was probably made in a sweat shop by small children because I bought it at * gasp * WALMART. And it is PINK.
Yeup. Worst of all? I wore it around the house singing the lyrics to Fame with my kids last night whilst also wearing a black pair of paint-splatter-style “leggings” (aka pants too thick to be tights and too damn tight to be pants) my eight year old bough at an accessories store in the mall. No, I did not take the time to put on my legwarmers, but I could have. And although I was belting out “I'm gonna live FOREVER!” I did not run Pandora and listen to the Fame soundtrack at the same time. It was a fleeting moment of joy, but it was pretty spectacular.
This 80's infatuation also brings the return of teal and royal-blue eye makeup. And yes, I am rockin' it after years of not wearing any make-up at all. And ripped and acid washed jeans. And a plethora of funky, new chuck taylor's. And no, I haven't bought any, I am just still wearing my lavender and plaid ones from highschool.
This type of fashion serves several personal purposes. One, big baggy shirts cover the big baggy belly after years of child bearing. And gives me room to hide a child's head in it while nursing. Very convenient. And admittedly, since I remember how to dress in this fashion, I feel confident when I pull out the clothes in the morning that I am looking pretty good. I did not fare nearly so well in the late-90s-early-aughts- Brittany Spear-and-belly shirts years. Plus, mud boots look pretty damn good with leggings and mini skirts. And since they are the staple of my wardrobe, that's a darn good thing.
Lastly, it does do one other major thing: it gives me a conversation starter for life with my children. And yes, I swore I would never allow fashion and television and nostalgia to run my parenting life. But I also swore I would never have four kids, and look where that got me.
My daughters and I really don't have much to chat about... I am not particularly aware of the latest Disney craze or singer, and I could care less about Taylor Swift (seems like too much twangin' for my taste). But we can talk about Fame and Wonder Woman and whether or not short sweaters over long tank tops is a good look. And we can sing and dance and laugh while we do it.
And really, it has opened up a way for them to understand me, and for me to give them perspective about themselves and the way life is sometimes. When she comes home complaining about someone hurting her feelings at school, my daughter seems less than impressed when I tell her it happened to me too. It is almost as if she doesn't believe it for a minute. But when she dreams up a school for adults where they get to go and wear 80s clothes “and do all that stuff you did in the 80s” I was able to tell her that, no, Mommy wasn't interested.
“Why not, Mom?”
“Because, honey, I was really sad in elementary school.”
“How come?”<
And here I got to talk about the sadness I held about being adopted and feeling different and moving, and how most of the girls in my class hated me. Plus, we had to sign the words to “We Are the World” in front of our entire school and parental population in 6th grade. I still can't hear the haunting strains of Michael Jackson without moving my hands to form the sign for “children”. *shudder* Also, I accidentally-on-purpose sing, “We are the worms... we are the ones who make a sticky mess... so watch where you're walking.”
It gave me a moment to relate to the pains she's had... a best friend who was horribly mean to her in 1st grade, moving twice in one year, our divorce and her new step/half families. It also gave me the chance to say (and for even my eaves-dropping twelve year old to hear) that I made it.
Sometimes the best solidarity and support I can give them is an honest, if embarrassing, picture of myself. In that moment I hope they know that I see them, really SEE them, and that I am always there for them.
Even if I am in my pink flannel shirt and lavender Converse.

Wild Nettle Farm

Harvest season has come and gone, and I let the turnips go bad after we brought them in, the turkeys ate the carrot tops so I can't find them, and the "3 sisters garden" never really grew, but instead a huge patch of nettles grew instead. The garden is full of comfrey, burdock, nettle, eyebright, and purslane. This seems like a message from the powers that be, reminding us what we need to be healthy, and the fact that the fennel did fine reminds me of what is needed to make milk. Perhaps we need to look to what we have rather than what we think we want to be successful in our farming future. Many of the herbs that grow here wild (or otherwise) feed us well, nurture and nourish us, and make great bitters!

Nadia is playing Mommy a great deal, which seems to help her in her moments of jealousy. Her baby (or babies, depending on the day) nurse, sleep in the cradle, hang out in a basket that can be moved from room to room, get swaddled in a blanket, and ride in a carseat. All of this seems to allow her to work out how to feel about Milo's need for attention. She and Sage play dress up by the hour, and move about their play giving each other emotional support when Momma has to cook dinner and nurse and sweep and do it all at once!

Aidan is working on some projects to sell on a website for homemade crafts we found. There were lots of comics, zines, and coloring books for sale and self-published on this site. And he asked for a few for Christmas, as well as a sock pirate (like a sock monkey only not). Hopefully he'll sell a few of his creations and art, enabling him to have some extra spending money, and to find a sense of usefulness from his art. It also gives him something that is his and his alone, a hard feat with 4 children in the house. He tries not to show it too often, but he has his moments when there is too little mommy time. He does express it verbally well.

Sage is showing a new wit and quick sense of humor that wash away the hard demeanor she often shows on her face. I recently had to read a series of articles on gifted students in my courses, and there was a description of giftedness I hadn't seen before; it included a list of attributes that describes my little girl well, and confirms by assertion that gifted students can be mislabeled and often have learning issues that either mask their giftedness or are masked by their gifted nature. These include ability to manipulate a symbol system, logical thought, reason by analogy (very Sage), resilient,takes on adult roles, independent thinking and leadership ability, strong desire to learn about and understand culture, strong inner will (hmmm....), and heightened sensitivity to others and the world around them. These may be in conjunction with traditional definitions of giftedness (both intellectual and affective). Often these "atypically gifted" students had a disruption in early childhood (like divorce?) and perhaps a less than stellar early childhood ed experience (she was my full-time day care baby... with fluctuations in quality and turnover at the center). Interesting fodder for thought.

Milo is a new person already. His face has filled out (actually, his head looks gigantic compared to the rest of him), and he is seeing farther. Today he even reached for a toy in front of him. He's settling into a routine, and is getting better about changing time (he really hates being changed, I have to say!). Nadia responds to him quickly and softly, and Sage wants to, but often finds his failure to calm down immediately (especially in the car) distressing... which of course makes things worse. He likes tummy time, and being talked to, and often smiles when I kiss his nose. We had some "alone time" at lectures up at the Center for Northern Studies (Momma's mommy time!) and he spent most of each slide show staring into my eyes and smiling. It was nice. He's even beginning to make some intentional noises, although not many, which sound much better than his usual grunts and groans (less piglet, more human). His old man lines are smoothing out, and he is looking more and more like a baby, especially when he smiles-- dimples and all!

The house is changing too! The back bedroom (ours) got jacked and the sills and framing were rebuilt, and reinsulated and resheathed. The small upstairs bedroom (Aidan's) has been reframed, mold and rot remediated, resheathed, and insulated with foam board outside. The windows were ordered, with a low-e one for the north side. All the upstairs windows will be replaced in 2 weeks, including 2 south facing ones in Sage's room, both front doubles, and the north facing one in Aidan's room. Aidan wants his big closet ripped out, and we are building a smaller one with a built-in cabinet to replace his dresser. After the energy effeciency people come, we'll replace all the dry wall (in both upstairs bedrooms) that had water damage behind it, and finally paint the kids' rooms, and run a heat vent upstairs. Next project for me is to refinish the stairs (including pulling out the stupid staples).

As I study education more and more, and read the new "Race to the Top" Initiative being put forth by Arne Duncan and President Obama, I have to say I am even less convinced that teachers can do what they need to do to educate our future. Race to the Top is more of same, high-stakes testing, charter schools, taking education out of the hands of educators and putting it in the hands of legislators, and adding isult to injury: "merit pay". Even my course teachers are either enrgaed or clueless... not realizing that we cannot use what they teach us, particularly in areas of assessment and curriculum development.

And, watching my kids with the different personalities and learning strengths and weaknesses, I am more convinced that we have moved further away from genuine assessment and learning, and into a hole we will not be able to dig ourselves out of.

Which leads me to the area of social and emotional development. I have always been of the mind that children need a holisitic approach to their growth in the early years. Too much emphasis on intellectual development can lead to very lop-sided human beings. Many of the smartest people I know are very sad, manic-depressive, or just plain immature. (I do not preclude myself entirely from those statements). This week, someone I knew who spent a year at the Center for Northern Studies killed himself. I do not know the details, other than he finally lost his battle with manic depression, and that he was one of the most brilliant and sweet people I had ever met. His life with his girlfriend and family had disintegrated completely in the last two years.

It is not that I think that educators and families can stop this type of mental illness. It is that I suspect that a more genuine approach to education and child development, particularly in the early years, could allay some of the sadness and anger felt by the smartest amongst us. If we spent time on genuine experiences, genuine emotion, and genuine interaction, rather than a renewed focus on "kindergarten readiness skills" in early childhood (Read the executive summary of the Race to the Top on the US giv education website), we would grow healthier, happier, more genuine people. In this vein, Colin and I hope to get Nadia into an early childhood experience a few days a week that focuses on her social and emotional development, spending time outdoors, acting out stories, and being part of real life. She focuses almost too much on wanting to know how to do the things that Aidan and Sage and Colin and I can do already. We're hoping to send her a few mornings a week come January, although where we do not yet know, and I am hoping to use that time to do one on-line class, and to volunteer up at Sterling a bit (maybe it'll lead to part time work?)

In the meantime, I am looking forward to not being the host for Thanksgiving, and just bringing my weed-eating, nettle-nourished turkey for us to enjoy. I am sad I will miss a holiday with my big kids, but am looking forward to a holiday with the parents, however brief a trip it may be. And as we head out in the "muthaship" for the long, long drive.... I am filled with love for all of you.

Right now, I am off to nurse miss Nani to sleep for her nap, to call and check on the "big kids", to hide some craigslist Christmas booty, and to throw mister Milo over my shoulder for a bird's eye view of his world.

Maybe I will drink some nettle tea, too.