Adjusting the Expectations For Success

We live in Alaska, and this year we experienced a record cold snap.  I took the kids outside almost every day, but usually it was bundled up in jackets and snow pants in the stroller to go run errands or play at the gym.   A while back I read a post that referenced the idea that kids should be playing an hour a day outside.  That thought gnawed at me.

It gnawed at me because I agree with it.  I loved playing outside as a kid.  Of course, I think our kids were getting lots of great play time inside and were not deprived of opportunities to climb, move things, dance, flop, jump and explore.  But there is something special about being outside and learning to turn pine cones into people or build trails for ants or….

However, when we took our kids outside, it was always a disappointment.

Last year on a beautiful winter day we took our kids sledding.  Sledding.  Very fun outdoor activity.  The baby girl put up with it.  The toddler boy (then one and a half) liked it for about one sled ride and then was Done.  His hands were cold.  The wind was cold.  He wanted no more of it.   That was fine because we knew that learning to love the outdoors would take lots of positive experiences over time.  We packed our kids back into the car to discover our car didn’t start.

Some nice friendly guys in a truck said they’d tow us back to town with a rope.  That’s the kind of thing that you do here in Alaska.  We agreed, but it was a scary experience for me imagining our power steering brakes not working fast enough and us crashing or going over a ditch pulling the truck backwards with us.  (We got home just fine.)

But, what we learned, was that every time we went outside, what we expected from our foray into the wilderness just didn’t come to fruition.

We pictured glorious blue sky days.  We got them.  Along with freezing cold winds.  We pictured children playing in the snow.  We got that too, for all of five minutes.  We pictured skiing.  Our boy skied about ten feet (maybe twenty if we’re telling long tales).  Everything we did was hit with a major dose of reality.

So we adjusted our expectations.  Instead of taking the kids out for a hike, we began taking them out for outdoor time to do nothing.  Last weekend my husband and I each went out for a run in the morning.  In the afternoon we took the kids on a “hike”.  We drove to the local mountain, parked the car and began walking up.  We expected to just hang out by the car while the kids played on the dirt road, but the kids took off up the hill!  We followed.  We threw snowballs.  We poked at Musk Ox poop.  We walked through puddles.  We spent a good twenty minutes going UP and near the turn around point, my husband said, “I’m glad I ran this morning because I don’t feel like I need to hike or get exercise for me.”  It was exactly how I felt too.

And in the past month as the weather has finally gotten near the unfreezing point, we have taken our kids out more and more frequently to just PLAY in the outside.  It’s still hard because the puddles and streams are icy cold, the snow on the ground is still there, the mud is sticky and scares my little girl when it pulls at her boot.  The winds are still chilly, but more and more our kids are “feeling their oats” and having fun in the great old outdoors.

Today, we hiked on the tundra and sat in the sweet lemony smell of the Aiyu (Labrador Tea) and ate salami and cheese and listened to the birds and found some old bones and saw some arctic flowers beginning to bloom.  Both the kids wore their backpacks and traipsed over the soft cushioning wet ground just like true big kid hikers!

(But was I ever thankful that we weren’t THAT far from the stroller when we began our slow trek back)

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The Bad Babysitter

The teenager laughed at Bunny and called it babyish and hurled the toy telephone across the room. She was babysitting me and I didn’t like her in the least. I don’t remember every disliking anybody before, but I knew that she was not a kind person and I did not want her anywhere near my room.

But I was a six year old kid and she was the teenager in charge so I just stood quietly while she made fun of my most favorite stuffed animal and threw – threw! – my plastic phone.

I told my parents I didn’t like her and they respected that, though I vaguely remember that she almost babysat again another time when my parents couldn’t find anybody else. I know her name came up and I voiced my objection and I know I never played in my room with her again, but maybe she hung out in front of the TV while I slept.

I had another babysitter that I did like – I adored her. When I went to bed she’d tell me a story about “coming to get you” and I’d say I’d hide somewhere and she’d say she’d go there and I’d name another place and she’d get there too. Not so imaginative in retrospect, but I was entranced and in giggles and loved every second of the game of trying to stay up as late as I could with this never ending story.

I also loved that babysitter nights meant I got to eat a TV dinner with those cool gross little cranberry crumble deserts and fried chicken with odd pieces of something not quite chicken hanging out in the gristly parts of the joints. They were delicious.

The other night we had a babysitter over to watch our kids and it was great. We generally just take our kids out with us, but on this particular night we each wanted to attend a different community event and needed to be kid free. Our sitter came over and we took off and it was fantastic. It was freeing to be able to go out and it was even more freeing to hear how much the kids liked this teenage girl.

She was respectful and kind and she smiled and read them books and played with them and picked up the toys as they played. Picking up toys is not a requirement, but I think it sent the message to the kids that she somehow knew the secret adult safe world of doing the right thing and taking care of kids.

The kids think she is terrific and I have a feeling she likes the extra cash, so we might find ourselves going out just a little bit more.

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“Sister is Not a Fan of Fish”

“Sister is not a fannafish” kinda threw me off this morning. What the heck was he talking about? Little boy has been playing with rhymes and pretend words and interspersing them into his sentences but this sentence seemed like he was trying to talk in all seriousness.

He was eating his breakfast, a bowl of shredded wheats, purchased for the low sugar content, but which were decidedly not a hit, when he looked up and made this cryptic statement.

Luckily, thankfully, we can ask him to clarify.

“I don’t understand. Sister is not a ___?”

He repeated himself several times before I finally figured it out.

Last week, Dad made them some salmon salad. He said they both liked it and ate it up, but the next day she wasn’t having any of the leftovers.

We try to minimize the food likes and dislikes by suggesting that some days we like some things and other days we don’t. This gives us some future leeway, we hope, for little boy to reclaim broccoli which he used to love, and little girl to begin to like anything with a cooked zucchini or mushroom like texture.

But yet we see some pretty obvious food preferences. Little boy loves salty things. Little girl loves the sweets and the bread products. Little boy likes apples and pears and little girl likes berries and kiwis. They both like pesto. Thank goodness! And they both used to like Thai food and Mexican food and we just figured we had it easy, but there are those days where we’re pretty certain our kids would be quite content to eat pretzels, oranges and chewable vitamins from Trader Joe’s on a desert island for years on end.

Neither like olives. Both love peanut butter. Brother does not care for blueberries and sister is not a fan of fish.

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Attack of the Ants

I plastered my body across my bedroom door so my friend couldn’t leave. She’d threatened to go home. I have no idea why, but I knew I didn’t want her to leave. There might have been some possibility of getting in trouble if the adults asked what happened, but really, I have no memory of what happened.

I know that we loved to play in our imaginations and I think on that particular day we had piled every single possession I owned on my bed and with our backs pressed against the wall, standing on the bed, we threw the items as hard as we could at the monster ants invading the room. They were coming in through the bottom of the door morphing into creatures quite large; larger than Italian Wolfhounds.

I have no idea what my mom thought. She was somewhere downstairs.

In my memory we were in the throes of battle and surely the noise level must have been as well. Yet, my mom never came up. In retrospect, I realize that most of my possessions were stuffed animals and I didn’t have a very good throwing arm so perhaps we didn’t make much noise at all quietly lofting fuzzy bunnies two feet off the bed.

Karen and I were definitely best friends. I don’t remember any arguments or problems getting along. I don’t recall feeling upset because she didn’t share or hurt feelings because she told a lie. I just remember playing in a world that we could both see as vividly and clearly as if it were really there. Except for this one occasion where she used her taller ways to command me to move away from the door.

I didn’t want her to leave, but I moved away.

We moved away in third grade and our parents set up play dates here and there, but it was never the same and we quietly grew apart.

Writing Prompt from BlogHer.com
Who did you play with as a child?

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Monumental Tasks Seem So Monumental

My Table in Response to the Paralyzing Stress of the Tasks at Hand

Have you ever noticed how the things you most want to get done are the ones that you keep putting off?

I had some projects that I hadn’t finished from earlier in the year that I wanted done.  I wanted a sense of completion so I could put things away.  Way back on the second day of April I shared my April to-do list on BlogHer Denise’s blog:

Some of the projects were definitely critical:  My computer was limping along, woefully overloaded with photos, operating with an antique operating system, old school RAM amounts, and without being backed up.  I addressed those issues over the course of the month, but am still not finished.  I didn’t have a small enough screwdriver to replace the RAM that arrived yesterday in the mail so tomorrow I will borrow one from a friend.  And THEN I will be able to tackle another project on the To-Do list which is to update our family’s photo sharing blog and family blog which is for our relatives.

Some projects were not so critical:  Our Christmas cards (Not for this upcoming year).  These are our cards from last December – four months ago.  If we had never started them then I’d be inclined to let things slide as we have in past years, but this year, we had our little photo insert thing completed way back in December.  We just didn’t get it printed up.  And then we had to order ink and then we had to order more ink and then we had to print them and….Now it’s April.  We completed most of them last month, but there were some on my side of the desk that I just kept putting off.

And in my head, the pile of cards still to write took on momentous proportions that would require hours and hours and hours and deep loving concentration and glasses of wine and mugs of coffee and richly flowing words and…..I lost all perspective.

Except that I didn’t.  I knew the task wasn’t that big and that I would feel better once it was completed.  I knew that this albatross that visited every to-do list of mine would not go away until I just did them.  I also knew that I did not want to just wipe my hands of the task.  I wanted to complete it.  I wanted to stand up to the task that was threatening to defeat me.

Well today, after months and months of fretting, I sat down and completed them.  And it really wasn’t so bad.

And now I am feeling that lightness that comes with spring cleaning and fresh sheets and de-cluttered homes.

Our home is still cluttered, but not with our belated wishes of holiday good cheer.

And with that task that seemed so MONUMENTAL out of the way, everything else is easier.

And the kids?  The kids had a great day today helping assist me in all the cleaning I had to get out of the way before I had nothing left on the to-do list EXCEPT the dang Christmas cards.

Sharking the Floor

Carrying Laundry Up the Stairs

 

The Table After I'd Completed Everything Else EXCEPT for the Cards

 

And my lesson learned?  That sometimes the things we resist the most are really far easier to tackle once we just sit down and work through them.

 

Skis and the Camp Chair Definitely Belong in the Kitchen

Sitting Outsides in Sleds Reading Books in the Afternoon Sun

 

 

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Pursuing the Horizon

Sticks and Ernie - What else is needed!

Yesterday and the day before and heck, almost every day since I stopped going to work and began staying home with my kiddos, I’ve been feeling behind. I don’t quite know how the heck I fit it all in before, because I sure as heck am not fitting it all in now.

I also really want to take advantage of being able to be home with our kids which, for me, means getting order into our home and creating a rich warm fun environment for our kids.

Instead, I feel further behind than every before.

“Leave the dishes. Don’t worry about the mess. Focus on your children for they will only be this age once.” These are the messages I hear and I agree with, but…

Can’t I have it all? I was reminded of this poem last night:

I saw a man pursuing the horizon;
Round and round they sped.
I was disturbed at this;
I accosted the man.
“It is futile,” I said,
“You can never —”

“You lie,” he cried,
And ran on.
                      – Stephen Crane

I’m not great at keeping the house clean. A trail of mess appears in my wake. My husband and children are not any better.

I love new ideas and the prospect of new projects, but it’s difficult to carry things out with two curious kiddos.

I love getting involved in projects with my kids and having fun exploring the world with them and trying new things which sometimes brings more mess into the home.

I feel better when my home is picked up and clean (not super sterile clean, just looking clean). I’m more creative when things feel more spacious. I took to heart Maria Montessori’s messages about beautiful environments when I was a student in a Montessori school and loved every second of it.

I know my children are only going to be this wonderful delightful age just once, but can’t I still have it all?

April is coming to an end mighty darn fast. I’ve managed to accomplish a few of the goals I set out for myself like “spend lots of time outside” and “read a book”, but I also managed to forget the ones that irk me the most.

IF ONLY I could get five solid hours to work on the paper tasks that need to get done and the Christmas cards (from December 2011) that I want to finish. IF ONLY!

But the weather has been so beautiful and friends have been so bountiful and kids have been so fun that the month has just flown by. Ay ay ay – This week, though I have big hopes and plans. Big Hopes. Alas…

The weather is sunny.

The puddles are fun.

The roads are clear for walking.

The tundra is starting to show.

But I still keep thinking that I’ll fit it all in. I’ll whip the house into shape bright and early and then take the kids out and then somehow fit all the rest into the day in the afternoon and evening while my kids laugh and play around me.

It hasn’t worked out yet.

But I still have hopes. One week left of April. I’m focused. I’m gonna try to do it all!

Transporting Animals

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Racing into Spring

This is our dog racing over the frozen Bering Sea.  Taking him for a walk where he can run always feels good and is a wonderful tonic for a bad mood.  He doesn’t grumble or stumble or talk of achy bones or the ills of the world.  He just runs full force with a big goofy happy smile on his face.

If you lift up your arms like the starter at a drag car race, he’ll come flying towards you and past you as fast as he can.  He knows we think he’s super amazing for being so speedy.

We went for a walk today while the kids napped at home.  It’s not too often that I can go out for a walk with just him and it felt a bit like “old times”.  While on the ice on this gray overcast day, I remembered a post on blogher by Victoria’s_View where she took photos of a glacier near her.  I took out my iphone and snapped photos of the sea ice.

They didn’t come out anything like the real deal.  In fact, they came out looking like a dingy version of a 1000 piece white on white jigsaw puzzle.  I trashed them.

But then walking back onto land, we noticed that there is the start of The Beach.  Actual sand is starting to appear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And a block away, we spied a raven’s nest on the side of an old building.  A raven’s nest!  I love ravens.  They stay here in the winter and play in the wind and somehow manage to survive the crazy cold.  I read a study that ravens can remember people’s faces and I like to think that they recognize me and the kids when we’re walking around town.  We always say hi to them and I always wish we had something to feed to them, but mainly we just send them good cheer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was gray out today, but it didn’t dampen my hopes for a gorgeous spring and summer.  I have such big plans to take the kids out onto the tundra to look for musk ox fur and berries and dirt and out on the beach to look for sea glass and old bones.  Last summer was just gray and cold.  Today was gray and cold, but still held such promise!!!

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The Outhouse

We have running water at our house. The majority of people do here in town, but outside of town there are those who do not. They use outhouses in the summer. Very good friends with an infant daughter live out of town and have running water, but no flush toilets.

I lived once in a cabin outside of Anchorage where I had an outhouse. It was rather wonderful to go traipsing down the trail with my dog to the outhouse. I sat with the door open and looked down the wooded hillside. My dog, a golden retriever, loved those moments because she got lots of ball fetching time. I’d sit and throw the ball and she’d race further down the hill and then come racing back up in seconds flat. Once she had a bit of a run in with a porcupine so she didn’t come back in seconds flat.

That was a stressful afternoon. I was scared she’d been eaten by a bear or gone running out to the road. But an hour or so after she disappeared she came hobbling up the hill, tennis ball in mouth and with a painful grin. I think as unpleasant experience as it was, it was also a bit thrilling.

I spent the rest of the evening extracting quills and she spent the evening sometimes gently mouthing me to say it hurt but she understood.

When the porcupine came to visit the cabin, she greeted him with glee. I put her inside.

We did have a bear come to visit once and that was a scary thing. The cabin had a door, but the window on the door was missing and any bear who wanted to could certainly get inside. I recalled the messages from the billboards at the nature trails and stood tall in the doorway of the cabin with my arms stretching out to the frame, used a deep voice, made myself as large as possible and said, “Bear. You are not welcome here. Please move on.” (I really did say please)

The billboards don’t actually suggest those words. They say don’t run and shriek.

The bear, a two year old (as if I really can gauge these things!) looked at me and then quickly turned and lumbered down the trail to the outhouse where he slowed down. I banged a pot to get him to keep going but he ignored me and hung out exploring the outhouse for quite a while. I think he might have known that I wasn’t really as gruff and threatening as I seemed.

So it was nice to have a dog go with me when I went to the outhouse.

Living in one of the rural communities in Alaska, I had running water and toilets except when the pipes broke or things froze up. And then we used honey buckets which are plastic five gallon buckets with toilet seats on them conveniently placed outside of your main living space. Many people use them. And there’s some etiquette involved.

If I had to just go to the bathroom, I might use the honey bucket at a good friend’s house. But if I had to GO, then I’d run home and use my own. In the village this is easy because everyone lives really close. We don’t live in the village anymore, and are now in a full fledged town.

A couple weeks ago we went to visit some friends who live outside of town who don’t have toilets. They have an outhouse they use during the summer and a honey bucket for the winter. They had a number of guests over and of course, if one has to GO they can’t just run home because they are a good 25 minute drive from town so in those cases, it’s okay to GO in their honey bucket.

Well, I had to GO. And I just felt awkward using their amenities so I put on my boots and decided to trek out through the snow to their outhouse. It was no easy task let me tell you!

It’s also not something I’d do without a dog, nor in the dark. There were moose tracks everywhere and moose, as cute as they are, are not to be reckoned with or startled. They’re big creatures with a bit of a kick. There was also a lot of snow.

It’s springtime so there wasn’t too much snow to get there, but there was enough for me to be thigh deep in places. I did get there, only to discover that the door was snowed in so I had to kick and shove and kick some more, but I got the door open and finally all was good.

No mosquitoes. Fresh air. My dog romping merrily around. Privacy and the joy of being outside on a gorgeous Alaskan day.

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Spring Time and Snow Boots

  One week ago, we got a phone call from a friend asking if the community Easter Egg hunt was still on.  It’s Alaska and regardless of the weather, we assumed it was, though things did look a bit blustery outside our window and we had already decided to forgo our family outing to the frozen ocean for a walk.

The temperatures were in the 20′s, but the wind was brisk.  There was snow coming down and the wind was blowing it back up making it hard to see.  It is Alaska and the Easter Egg hunt was not canceled.

We bundled up the kids and made sure they had on face masks and walked down to the local park.  Kids ages 0-2 are allowed to have parents helping.  I helped my little boy and my husband helped our little girl.  Both of our kids did great!  Of course, it’s not about doing great or not doing great, but it’s nice when you’re a wee one to understand what you’re doing and to have fun doing it.  They both did.

Little girl couldn’t always pick up the eggs with her awkwardly mitted hands, but she tried and sometimes was successful.  We still have a large bowl of hard boiled eggs in our fridge from their collection efforts.

And now, only one week later, it’s still below freezing in the mornings, but by early afternoon, the frozen streets are covered with puddles and rivers and ponds flowing down the drains that the city crews have been working on de-icing.

This morning we bundled the kids up in snow pants, snow boots, fleece jackets and outer jackets and went for a walk and a picnic down near the frozen sea.  This afternoon our kids only needed rubber boots and simple jackets to play in the water that lined the streets.

The snow in our back yard that went higher than our 6 foot fence (conveniently allowing our dog to walk over the fence) has receded a couple of feet in just a couple days.  The evaporation of the snow leaves the snow empty and hollow looking and a horrible drag to attempt to walk through as it collapses beneath your feet.

It’s still chilly, but the sun is bright and wide awake at seven am and still up at 11 pm and its warmth is stunningly powerful upon your skin.

Last night at 3 am when I got up briefly, I looked out the window and saw the stars and wished them well.  They’re like special friends that we won’t be seeing until the Fall.

Tomorrow morning we will again dress up in our winter gear to meet the 14 degree temperatures, but afternoon will be a whole different story.  Spring is possibly on the way.

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My Little Girl

Little girl snuggled in behind me under the down comforter and I could her her quiet breathing. She’d woken up too early due to a wet diaper and wet pj’s and after I changed her, I decided to bring her into bed with me where I thought she’d have a better chance of falling back asleep, and thus allowing me to fall back asleep.

She snuggled in closer to my back and I began to relax. I heard her breathing start to change and then I let myself begin to doze off to sleep.

And then I heard her whisper, “Kick”.

I froze and held my breath and at the same time tried to keep my breathing as steady and slow as possible so that she would mimic my deep relaxation and slumber off herself. It was to no avail.

I heard her whisper, “Kick” again and this time it was accompanied by a little flutter of her feet kicking my back under the covers. Sleep was not in the cards.

I rolled over and placed my hands under my cheeks and looked into her eyes just inches away looking at me with her head on my pillow and her hands under her cheeks. The binky was in her mouth at a cockeyed angle so she could speak. “Kick.”

My little girl is nineteen months and she understands gobs of things, but only says a handful of words and those handful of words are not yet very clear, but this word was very clear.

“Are you remembering the other day when we went swimming at the pool?” She smiled and kicked her feet.

And so there, lying almost nose to nose, nice and cozy, under the warm morning blankets she and I shared a wonderful magical conversation about our day at the pool.

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