Two quotes from Gogo to A this morning (A's first day of Kindergarten):

Sometimes people can be mean, but don't worry; I'll protect you.

A -- you need to chew with your mouth closed. If you don't people will make fun of you.

Back to School

So, I've made changes this year -- well, it's day two of my changes, and I'm hoping they'll stick, but I've made some simple changes that seem (in the last two days) promising. What promise? The promise of a slightly more organized life -- hopefully?

These are the simple changes:

• I put a bin by the door for backpacks. It looks like this, but it's green, recycled, and has no lid. I wish I remembered what that brand it, but alas, no such luck. Now I need to establish the habit of keeping their backpacks in the bin -- in order, youngest to oldest. So far, so good.  Day two, and no one was whining about not being able to find their backpacks.

• I got two similar bins for shoes -- one for the front door and one for the back door. I know it's silly, but this is the most exciting (and potentially the most challenging) change we will make this year -- the "no shoes in the house" change. I really had to think this through because both their dad and I were pretty much raised to keep our shoes on from when we got up until we went to sleep. But that's not nearly the problem in Florida (where we grew up) as it is in Ohio (where our kids are growing up) because in Florida there is no mud to track through a house -- just sand. Here, they are constantly tracking crap through the house. Soooo benefit number one will be cleaner floors (and furniture that they still haven't learned to keep their feet off -- sigh). And benefit number two will be no more running around the house whining that they can't find their shoes! So, I'm excited. I worried that it would be ugly, but really? This is a house full of six kids. Better Homes and Gardens isn't coming over for a photo shoot any time soon.

• I got super-great containers for lunches from a company called Preserve. I totally love them! I have already discovered that I got the wrong proportion for what I want /  need. I got too many of these and not enough of these, so I'll be ordering more of the square containers. The small ones are really nice, good for fruits and veggies, but putting two of them in the lunch box along with the square one is kind of a tight fit. BUT I can easily stack two of the square ones on top of each other in a lunch box and actually pack more food. So, I plan on getting a few more and packing their lunches like little double-decker bento boxes. Thank goodness that they are already in the habit of bringing home the containers. Their lunches are now 100% no waste lunches (except for whatever food they sneak into the garbage when they think I don't realize it).

• I got them water bottles and made a place to store them in the refrigerator. And WOW! This simple little step has done pretty stunning things -- saved me the money from buying them drinks in pouches or boxes for school, saved me the incredible anxiety that I get when trying to find drinks that don't contain HFCS or dyes, and saved me TIME -- so darn much time -- not just label reading time at the store, but also "Mama, can I have a drink" time. They know where their water bottles are and how to fill them. For real? This works? It does! It does! (so far).

• I decided to finally take the advice of people who tell me to get ready for school at night, not in the morning. Ah, I think they are on to something. After dinner, for the last two days, we've packed our lunches for school and work. This has been nice because we all kind of work together to assemble them. The little ones can count carrots and little tomatoes to put in the veggie containers while I wash and de-stem-ify strawberries (or prep whatever fruit or other veggies) and put them in a bowl with other fruit. THEN they can put the lids on, put them in lunch boxes, and start scooping fruit salad into the next little containers while I make sandwiches and surround them with other dry snacks in the extra space those amazing containers have! Then, lunches are ready for the fridge. They can check to make sure their water bottles are full for the next day, and put them away while I put the lunches away. Then upstairs for the clothes picking out ritual, which I anticipate alleviating a lot of the craziness of looking for the "just right" outfit early in the a.m. -- or looking for a clean shirt or matching socks or something.

• I'm working the order for what I need to remind them to do on the way in the door each day. I'm thinking I need to say, "Okay guys, shoes and back packs in the bins. Do you have any food left from lunch? Containers with food still in them on the counter, empties in the sink." Then they can eat whatever they have left with whatever snack I have for them (a piece of fruit or bowl of trail mix or whatever) while we chill a little right after school. THEN I can send them back to the backpacks for homework and papers I need to sign or see. Once I get them going on homework, I can make dinner and hang out with whoever isn't working on homework (the babies) while the middle kids use their desks upstairs to get their work done. THEN, the big girls are ready to come home from their respective after-school activities by around 5:30, so we can run to get them, or (crossing my fingers for the miracle of a ride home for them occasionally) have dinner on the table when they get in the house around six or so.

So far, day one and night two went smoothly! I told my oldest that I'm going to do this all the time from now on, and she laughed at me. I think I'm going to have to prove her wrong. >;->

Back-to-school madness

What a week it's been! Back to school is crrrrazy! Many very cool things have happened this week. I'll write more tonight. I'm excited about changes for the upcoming year and the patience that I'm learning as I face the inevitable speed bumps on my little journey.

I remember telling Ella, when she was freaking out about doing poorly on an assignment in school in second grade (yeah, that's 11 years ago) that mistakes are like arrows that point to the things we need to work on, the things we need to practice. Mistakes are gifts (this, of course is the wisdom of my Zen-genius-father coming from my mouth). I've had a lot of "gifts" in the last few weeks. I'm learning from them. This makes me happy. Mildly frustrated and happy.

So I'm back to reading this amazing book, Child's Mind, and it's totally inspiring me again. I have about 15 minutes to read each night, and that's about it, but sometimes I get more in, so now I'm on Chapter 3.  I think that the book feels a little overwhelming because it has sooooo many really awesome mindfulness practices in it, but I figure, a little, just a little at a time is better than nothing.

Well, we've occasionally been playing a cool mindfulness game before dinner. We just listen for the sounds that we hear and pay attention to smells, etc. And we whisper-tell each other about them. It's been good for getting them settled in. I've been trying to get them to slow down and just notice things when they eat, when they drink: textures, flavors, smells, thoughts, feelings, etc. It's been an interesting journey.

Last night, they were off the flipping' wall at bed time, so I went in room after turning out all the lights much to their very loud consternation and declarations that they were scared, etc. I just said over and over, "I really want to know what you're saying, but I can't hear you when you're shouting" and waited for them to calm down. Once they were calm, I asked them why they were scared, and they, of course, answered, "Because it's dark" to which I replied, "what changed when the lights went out, other than that one thing, the lights going out?" They had no answer. So once I go them calm and assured them that there's nothing in the dark that isn't in the light, I told them that I wanted to play the listening game and that it would be more fun in the dark dark darkest dark we could get.

So we played it. They noticed a lot of night sounds. That was cool.

Then, we played a game that worked a little like progressive relaxation, but instead of tensing up our muscles, we moved them, starting with our cores and moving out. So we made our tummies like oceans, "can you wiggle your tummy all over while you keep the rest of your body still? Okay, let's wiggle our tummies like waves on the ocean while we take five big breaths." And I counted them, exaggerating in through our noses, out through our mouths. Then we stopped and tried to be really still for five more breaths, feeling the bed under our backs or tummies and listening again. "Okay, now let's move our shoulders, move them all around, not fast, just easy. How many different ways can you move your shoulders without moving the rest of your body?" Then we breathed again and then were still again for five more breaths. Then we wiggled our booties, then our heads, then our faces, then our legs and arms, then our fingers and toes, each time keeping the rest of our bodies still and soft-soft. The baby monkeys fell dead asleep. Simon and Lydia were dubious, but went along. They complained a little, but then kinda fell  in line. They didn't fall asleep, but the rhythm of argument followed by playing followed by an argument... ceased, and they chilled out.

So, success. Score one for mindfulness and a good night's rest.

Gogo: On TV, dogs are superheroes.

Day one of Omega 3,6,9 supplement and a daily multi for the kids, multi with iron for a slightly anemic lulu, and flax seed and evening primrose oil for me (maybe it'll help me be less scattered?). I already knew about all this particular stuff. I was trying to get it into their diets more, but I figure along with that, we could try the supplements (I don't go in for supplements that much for a multitude of reasons) and see how it goes. Oh my gosh! It's nearly impossible, by the way, to find vegetarian sources for some of this stuff. For the kids, it's no biggie because they eat meat, but I've been a vegetarian for 26 years. What's strikingly funny to me is the incredible number of supplements I found that have omega 3s and proudly display on their packaging that the oils are from vegetable sources, but then, upon reading the ingredients, I find that the "soft gels" holding the oils are made of gelatin. Really? REALLY? -__-

Yeesh! Back to school clothes

So, I shopped at a department store yesterday for the first time in five years. That was WEIRD. Funny though, it's like riding a bike, remembering how to shop that way, work the sales, etc. I'm in an odd state of feeling kind of victorious because I got so much for so little money but also feeling deflated because I kind of sold out my ideals for the school district.

Suburban schools are weird, and my ideologies don't totally square with theirs. Every time I buy something at a department store, I kind of feel like I have blood on my hands. I think of who made it, the working conditions in sweat shops,  kids picking cotton, the waste and excess fuel and other material resources in clothing that people view as disposable,  and I feel yucky. I usually shop at resale stores that benefit charities that I support, but this year, after a year of what I can only call bullying (couched in terms of concern: "how are you guys doing financially? Do you need help? Here's the number for a charity that gives people free clothes...") from the school (no, not the kids at school, the guidance counselor mostly) about my kids, saying their clothes are messy or old or whatever, I capitulated. I should say that  my kids' clothes are and always have been clean and pretty darn cool (in my opinion), but I have always allowed them to choose whatever they want to wear and allowed them to wear the things they choose in any combination that makes them feel good about themselves as long as they aren't distracted. School is not a fashion show.

As a result, if my son wants to wear his favorite shirt with paint stains in it, I let him. If my other son wants to draw sharpie pictures all over his clothes and himself, I let him. If my daughter wants to wear a green skirt, a pink shirt,a brown belt, and black and purple snow boots in the middle of Autumn, hey, that's cool. Do you feel amazing? Yeah? Then wear it. If my son wants to wear a princess dress to prom, I'll help him shop for it. I want them to love themselves and feel free to create any image of themselves that feels good to offer the world. This is their time to explore. Soon enough, social pressure and job pressure may force them to conform to this or that standard, but in the mean time, they should feel as free as possible. At least that's what I thought. And I guess that notion is still in place. They chose what they wanted from the sale racks at the department store, but their options were so limited. Here's something like everybody else. Here's something else that will make you look like a suburban kid, blah blah blah. They are happy. So I guess I am too. But it's going to be a weird school year, not watching my littlest ones outwardly presenting their uniqueness to the world.

So, I've been bullied by the school. And unfortunately, I have responded to the bullying the same way that most people do, by keeping my head down and trying to just blend, trying to just get by until we are out of this school. The middle and high school in this district are surprisingly more easy going. My oldest daughter (theatre and art loving musician girl) will start the school year with long, bright pink hair, and her crazy old school punk meets hipster sense of fashion -- thrift store chic. And my other daughter (cross country runner, charity 5K BEAST, little athlete extraordinaire) will start the year with her medium blonde with light blonde highlights, chunked out, just long enough to fit in a hair tie hair and her very kooky, edgy, everything is better with sparkles, patches, buttons (pins), and odd and exciting embellishments sense of style that she wears with so much confidence that even her suburban clone mall shoppin' friends think it's cool as hell. Meanwhile, the little ones will blend into the scenery at their suburban elementary school. It will be interesting to see how they project their amazing individual quirks without the outward signifiers of their clothing.

I'm not getting rid of my six year old's mohawk though. THAT's where I draw the line.

Dr. Sears back to school tips.

I just found this, and I want to use it later, so I'm putting the link here. I find the backpack stuff to be particularly interesting.

Quicky thoughts on back to school

So, I just posted a bunch of drafts in a row. I think should just post stuff instead of setting it aside and waiting to perfect it at some later date.

Back to school is a bit hectic right now. I need a new plan for this year. I have struggled for years to get and stay organized. Getting organized comes easily; staying organized is the struggle.

These are my goals for this year:

• Create a dedicated work area for the kids.
• Create a schedule that isn't too ambitious (the overly-ambitious part is always what gets me).
• Meet regularly with teachers and the principal -- just to talk, just to keep lines of communication open. Last year, lack of communication was just this side of catastrophic. The school would try to contact me when I wasn't available. Then I would call back, and the game of phone tag would ensue. I want to schedule regular and predictable times that we can meet, even if they are only once a month.
• Send snacks to school for the kids. 
• Get ready WITH the kids instead of before they do.I think that being ready and trying to get a jump on the day has been an issue because they are missing two things, my leadership and my example. While I'm downstairs making breakfast or tossing another load of laundry in the machine, I can't trust that they are actually getting ready. I know the brush their teeth and hair and that they change their clothes, but I don't know if they are brushing well enough or if their clothes are clean. I can do the laundry or whatever before they get up, and get myself ready when they are getting ready, so I can watch over them better.
• Set a shower schedule. This way, I don't always have to say, "did you take a shower yesterday?" They take turns and the babies get showers every other day. But writing things down helps everyone.
• Make menus weekly.

Gideon points to the box of instant mashed taters sitting by the stove and asks, "What is this for?"
I answer, "For dinner."
He asks again, "But what's it for?"
"To eat"
"But what is it?"
"Potatoes"
He looks at the box, completely confounded, "No, that is NOT potatoes. Stop being crazy mama."
And then I realize that I'm not sure the boy has ever actually seen a box of mashed potatoes, and I feel a little teeeeensy bit proud.

eeeeeewey!

So as A is walkin' into the porta potty at the event today, I grab his drink, "Here, hand me that. There's no place to set it down in there."

A hands me his drink, points to the urinal, and says, "yeah there is. Look, there's a cup holder right here!"

Hey, guess what I found under my little experimental compost heap? Flippin' beautiful black dirt -- that's what!

Sure, I dig all the memes that challenge irrational beauty standards, but I find it a little annoying when so many of them celebrate intelligence over beauty. I posit that both of these things, "intelligence" and "beauty" as they are both currently socially constructed, are to a great degree influenced by genetics. Of course, what people do with the genes they get certainly determines to what pote

ntial those genes are expressed, but it is as unfair and isolating to suggest that people who are not as intelligent as others are somehow subpar humans. I think that it is actually more mean spirited -- even cruel -- to put people down for not being smart enough than it is to put people down for not being pretty enough. I say, let's make a shift toward appreciating kindness, compassion, etc. -- qualities that we have a bit more control over.

Two steps forward, one step back. Got enough to pay all my bills, get groceries and gas, pay for the kids' 5K tomorrow morning and some fundraiser for cross country tomorrow night -- thinking, "Heck yeah! I can maybe exhale here for a second" and CRASH! screeeeeam, "Go get mama! -- MAMA!" so I dash upstairs to see the lighting fixture from my kids' ceiling fan has a massive hole in it, and there is glass all over their floor. Gideon threw a matchbox car at it. Geeeeenius! When I asked him why, he said he didn't know. sigh. So I'm furious, mildly defeated at the thought of what it will cost to repair, and pretty impressed at my boy's arm -- that was a pretty small car, quite a distance, and some thick glass. Of course, I still punished him, but hmmm, good arm. There is at least that one bright spot -- well that and the extra bright spot where the bare bulbs are showing through the hole.

I'm not interested in the whole "happy ending" thing -- mostly because of the "ending" part. I'd like to just keep moving and making the most of moments as they pass through and past me. Yeah, that about sums it up, at least for this moment.

Duct tape

So, I just got an amazing idea, like a smack my head and wonder why I never thought of it before idea. The school supply lists for the little ones have these challenging demands for different colored folders, and while I know it's to keep things straight for the kids and the teachers, it get's crazy to buy two blue, three orange, one yellow.... Soooo, I'm going to buy a bunch of colored duct tape and recycle our old folders by covering them with the duct tape. Then, they won't get torn to shreds by the end of the first trimester, AND we'll be able to use the left over duct tape for other projects. Eureka!

Story of my life

Why is it so hard to get to started, to get to work and be productive, when it feels so good to get things done?

Moment of clarity

Things are always crazy. That's just fine. I have a quiet place in my breath where I can rest a little bit, then jump back in. I'm glad my breath is always with me.

The MALL?

Me: I'll be right back. I'm just dropping Ella and her friends at Polaris.

Lulu: They're going to the MALL?

Me: No, they're watching a movie at Polaris.

Gideon: What's a mall?

Ella: It's a place with a bunch of stores.

Gideon: oh.

Dancing with the tribe

In the living room, each kid came up with one count of 8 for a total of six phrases of AWESOME! I want to do this every night!

My little guru

So A had testing for Kindergarten today. And when we left, I just started crying my eyes out. And A looked at me and said, "It's okay mama. Find your breath and just breath in and out, and you'll calm down and your tummy will feel better." I have a very wise five year old. It totally worked.

Teen logic

Me: healthy food blah blah blah healthy food blah blah blah

Ella: you know, if there's every some crazy apocalyptic end of the world scenario, you're going to die, right?

Me: Why?

Ella: Because once all the healthy food rots, which it will, all that'll be left is processed stuff, and you'll be afraid to eat it, and even if you do eat it, your body won't be used to the chemicals, and it'll get y

ou sick.

Me: So you are suggesting that I eat processed food to build a tolerance for the chemicals and stuff in the event that the world comes to an end?

Ella: Yes.

Me: No.

Ella: Fine then, while you're trying to run away with a stomach ache, we'll all be getting away while a zombie is eating you.

Little moment of confidence

Step by step, my "I'll never be able to" lists are transforming into "to try" lists. "To try" lists are transforming into "to do" lists. "To do" lists are transforming into "can do" lists. And I'm finally beginning to feel like a competent adult. :-)

Musing on the commodification of intimacy

These song lyrics disturb me: "She gave everything she had to a boy who changed his mind." How do we change the "gift" culture that objectifies and commodifies intimacy (emotional, mental, spiritual, and physical intimacy), so that people don't walk away from unfit relationships feeling like damaged goods or worse, stay in unfit or even abusive relationships because they feel like they've "[given] everything [they] had," so who else would ever want them? The commodification of love in the context of relationships makes me sad, and it makes me worry for my children.

My first kiss should have signified something, communicated something, something like, "I like you. I trust you enough that I'm willing to make myself physically vulnerable to you in this particular way. You're superswell." Of course, it didn't. It was more like, "I'm bored; you're bored. I've never kissed anyone, and I just want to get this first kiss thing out of the way." So, what actually happened there is that I used that kiss as a signifier that usually means one thing when it usually means another -- like nowadays, kissing, for me, communicates, "I trust you. You're superspecialbloodyawesome (the act of kissing signifies something these words do -- they communicate things -- that kiss was nothing more and nothing less than the act of communicating). So what kissing actually did in that scenario was communicate ineffectively. Here's the problem. The extreme weight given to chastity and purity and the notion that our kisses are all gifts for our future one and onlies, and once we give them away, we can never get them back. We will be diminished. We, as things -- as products -- as objects -- as big human bags of commodities -- will be depleted, with less to offer our future on and onlies. Oh God, I bought into (I chose that word on purpose) that line of horse shit for WAY too long and hated myself a lot because of it, because I was such "damaged goods" such a depleted sack of commodities to give to my one and only.

What was reeeally wrong with that first kiss is how I perceived it for so many years -- as wasted.

 I "wasted" my first kiss

 But that's not what happened. That kiss wasn't a thing, it was an act. I don't look back at the first time I said a particular word and think to myself, "FUCK! I said that wrong! I wasted that word. It'll never be the same again." A also don't look back on a word I've been using wrong, like had the meaning confused, and think, "OH GOD! MY life is OVER because I never knew what that word meant, and now that I do, I realize how empty and broken I am for ever and ever and ever because I didn't understand the meaning before."

 It was an act that communicated something. Just like all acts that build intimacy, among friends, among family, among lovers, acts ranging from cooking a nice dinner to making a noodle necklace to watching a sunset together to tiny forehead kisses. These all convey love and build intimacy on many levels and different ways, dependent on the contexts.

They aren't commodities to be exchanged -- not THINGS to be given!

OR taken.

 AND don't even get me started on people being perceived as property, "Be mine?" Oh HELL NO!

 I mean, I'm taking that to an extreme. If my daughter's sweetie wants to refer to her as his or her partner or girlfriend or whatever, that's cool, because our language doesn't really contain any other way to say it.

 I mean, we say "my mom, my friend, my kid, my sweetie, ..." But the "my" in most of those contexts seems "relational" -- like demonstrating the relationship. This is my "relationship signifier" isn't the same as this is my car.

 Ugh, I need to help my kids with this stuff without sounding crazy -- haha!

Thankfully, life is long. I'ma take a break now and watch a movie with the kidlets.

So there's half day kindergarten here, but full day for kids who need "extra help," soooo I thought I was some kinda smartypants by not workin' with A with numbers and letters and reading and stuff all summer (extreeeeemely hard to resist but worth a shot), but my smarty monkey tested high anyway. Sooo, now I'm searching for half-day child care. Why the HECK don't any childcare centers put their freakin' prices online?! Grrrah! Yay for a smart monkey. Boo for daycare centers.

Sometimes when I feel like I haven't accomplished much lately or like I'm not growing, I need to look further back in time. Changes happen so subtly sometimes that they are imperceptible in a narrow time frame. For example, 20 years ago, I was terrified to leave my house alone at night, even to go to the grocery store. I remember psyching myself up to walk the 20 feet from the hair salon door to m

y car on the rare nights that I closed and no one was there to walk me to my car (at 9 p.m.). And I'd arrive home after driving about 5 miles, exhausted from the effort put forth to stay calm, and I'd congratulate myself, telling myself to be satisfied with baby steps. Now, my favorite time to shop is in the middle of the night -- alone. I go to a dance class that starts at 9 p.m. -- alone (sometimes). I drive home -- alone. I sing to radio music -- alone. I go anywhere I want, anytime I want, after dark -- alone. I don't need to find and follow my breath to stay calm. I just am. I don't know when this change happened; it was so slow and subtle. See? We grow. We just don't always notice it. So, keep with the baby steps, even teeeeeny steps away from whatever is toxic in our worlds are moving in the right direction.

I love monogram seeds -- A