Archive | motherhood

snuggle love

October 10, 2011 at 11:06 pm

Lena and I are home in Fairfax visiting our family over the long weekend. Elliott was here with us, but he left this evening for San Antonio… and we miss him! We’ll be reunited in SA on Wednesday.

We’ve had a wonderful long weekend with family and friends, both here in Fairfax and down in Charlottesville. Many pictures to share, but in the meantime here are a few photos from last week, when Lena and I were hanging out one lazy morning. I do love this little girl!

0 :: in Lena, motherhood

Simplicity Parenting

September 30, 2011 at 5:26 am

Disclaimer: This is my first attempt at a book review since… uh, college? It’s a little long. I’m really curious to hear other moms’ (and dads’!) thoughts about this book and about simplifying your child’s life. Even if you’re not a parent, you probably have thoughts about good toys, TV shows, and the super kids of the 21st century. I’d love feedback as I embark on this mommy thing!

~*~*~*~

It’s raining again. Lena is sleeping in the next room; Elliott’s at a reception on base. I’m sitting cross-legged in bed, a cup of coffee on the windowsill and my journal open beside me.

There’s also a book with me: Simplicity Parenting by Kim John Payne. I read a review of this book a few months ago on a friend of a friend’s wonderful blog and immediately ordered it for myself on Amazon. I think it’s my favorite secular book so far on parenting… and from the mom of a 6-month-old that’s a killer recommendation! Hah.

[S]implification is not just about taking things away. It is about making room, creating space in your life, your intentions, and your heart. (p.34)

Payne recommends simplifying your child’s life in four ways:

Environment
Rhythm
Schedules
Filtering out the adult world

To begin simplifying your child’s environment, Payne recommends you first tackle their toys. He suggests you get rid of any toy that is:

broken
developmentally inappropriate
conceptually “fixed” (ie. products based on TV shows or movies)
easily breakable
very high-stimulation
annoying or offensive
claims to give your child a developmental edge
something you were pressured to buy
inspires corrosive play
a multiple

Honestly if I were to use those criteria to go through Lena’s [very few] toys that we brought with us to Texas, I would probably throw out several of them. A rattle that lights up? Clear plastic balls from a yard sale? But then imagine if Lena was three years old and had lived through three Christmases and three birthdays! I can see how toys get out of hand.

At the end of the chapter on environment, Payne gives us this vision of a decluttered room. May this be something to work towards for Lena’s whole life instead of something to create out of chaos later down the road:

Imagine your child’s room

uncluttered and restful to the senses
with soft light and colors and a sense of order and space
with room to move and play, draw and build
without toys that are broken, forgotten, heaped in piles
with a few of her most beloved toys in sight and the rest in one or two baskets on the floor, covered with a cloth.

Imagine

watching your child create new worlds and new ways to play with her toys, instead of requiring new toys to play with
opening your child’s bureau or closet and seeing space around a few clothes that fit her and the current season
your child’s own real tools and their happy sense of purpose as she works and plays at cooking, cleaning, and gardening
your child being able to live deeply and repeatedly in the “now” of a story and her play, rather than always eying what’s next

Payne goes on to recommend simplifying through rhythm, ie. setting a predictable pattern to your days, even if it seems “boring.” He maintains that children like routine, and it’s 21^st century parents that feel the pressure to make life be one high point after another until both parents and children collapse with exhaustion. In the same vein Payne recommends simplifying schedules: avoiding the pressure of cello lessons on top of ballet on top of soccer on top of basketball on top of swim team. Here’s a one-sentence summary:

The verbal expression of simplifying is, “No, thanks.” (p. 167)

After I greedily acquired for free all Lena’s baby things I needed (and much more) through a neighborhood mom’s group, I know how hard it is to just say, “No, thanks.” When it’s offered, when it’s available, and when it’s for your child (and therefore also for your self-image), it’s so much easier to just let your guard down and acquire.

My favorite chapter of all, though, was about filtering out the adult world. Elliott and I already struggle with this for Lena when it comes to technology. Should we let her be near computers, or see us on our cell phones, or sit in front of a TV screen? We’ve tried to be fairly cautious, and at the very least a TV is not a babysitter in our house. But let’s be honest… we have iPhones. Laptop computers. YouTube. Blogs. Lena is going to be around Steve Jobs’ inventions nonstop unless we set some serious boundaries.

Some serious boundaries with ourselves, I mean. And boundaries often start with awareness.

TV runs on commercials, the siren song of “stuff.” An altar of commercialism, it is your home’s most efficient conduit of clutter. And TV can easily suck up any free, unstructured time you’ve gained by simplifying schedules. Between 1965 and 1995 Americans gained an average of 6 hours a week in leisure time; we then devoted all but a few minutes of it to watching TV. (p. 168)

My parents never had cable in our home and movies were something we watched together as a family only on Friday nights. Elliott’s parents didn’t have cable either, kept their TV in the basement, and only allowed movies on special occasions. Our parents are excellent examples to us. But this is also a new age. Everyone is plugged into technology these days, and I worry that if we really do crack down on the use of technology then Lena might be “behind.”

Well. Don’t worry. This quote changed that for me:

In Failure to Connect, psychologist Jane Healy notes that kids who don’t start using computers until adolescence gain competency within months equal to that of children who’ve used them since they were toddlers. (p. 178)

Lastly, Payne addresses discipline, another topic that stops me cold. Of course I envision everyone—fellow passengers on international plane flights, her Sunday school teacher, my dad—fawning over my perfect child, awed by how well behaved she is. But discipline takes so much work, so much love, to get right.

To help us get started, Payne had a very simple piece of advice:

Why did Laura and Mary do what Pa said? The short answer is this: Pa didn’t say too much. (p. 185)

This is, of course, from Little House on the Prairie, and [besides casting all your cares on Jesus, which Payne does not address] is a good place for me to start in the art of discipline.

Keep it simple. When I do speak, mean it. And love that little girl!

9 :: in good reads, husband, Lena, motherhood

Simplicity Parenting

September 30, 2011 at 4:26 am

~*~*~*~

It’s raining again. Lena is sleeping in the next room; Elliott’s at a reception on base. I’m sitting cross-legged in bed, a cup of coffee on the windowsill and my journal open beside me.

[S]implification is not just about taking things away. It is about making room, creating space in your life, your intentions, and your heart. (p.34)

Payne recommends simplifying your child’s life in four ways:

Environment
Rhythm
Schedules
Filtering out the adult world

To begin simplifying your child’s environment, Payne recommends you first tackle their toys. He suggests you get rid of any toy that is:

broken
developmentally inappropriate
conceptually “fixed” (ie. products based on TV shows or movies)
easily breakable
very high-stimulation
annoying or offensive
claims to give your child a developmental edge
something you were pressured to buy
inspires corrosive play
a multiple

Imagine your child’s room

uncluttered and restful to the senses
with soft light and colors and a sense of order and space
with room to move and play, draw and build
without toys that are broken, forgotten, heaped in piles
with a few of her most beloved toys in sight and the rest in one or two baskets on the floor, covered with a cloth.

Imagine

watching your child create new worlds and new ways to play with her toys, instead of requiring new toys to play with
opening your child’s bureau or closet and seeing space around a few clothes that fit her and the current season
your child’s own real tools and their happy sense of purpose as she works and plays at cooking, cleaning, and gardening
your child being able to live deeply and repeatedly in the “now” of a story and her play, rather than always eying what’s next

The verbal expression of simplifying is, “No, thanks.” (p. 167)

Some serious boundaries with ourselves, I mean. And boundaries often start with awareness.

Well. Don’t worry. This quote changed that for me:

To help us get started, Payne had a very simple piece of advice:

Why did Laura and Mary do what Pa said? The short answer is this: Pa didn’t say too much. (p. 185)

This is, of course, from Little House on the Prairie, and [besides casting all your cares on Jesus, which Payne does not address] is a good place for me to start in the art of discipline.

Keep it simple. When I do speak, mean it. And love that little girl!

7 :: in good reads, husband, Lena, motherhood

out for the night. dressed to the nines. baby’s with a sitter. blissful, right?

September 2, 2011 at 8:40 am

Our future Wahoo! With more UVA grads in her family than she can imagine–both parents, three aunts, two uncles–how can Lena avoid the orange and blue? We’re dreaming of taking her to her first UVA football game this fall…

* * *

Yesterday was the last day of Elliott’s training course here in Vicenza. To finish up things in style, the Public Health Command organized a banquet at a nearby Italian restaurant. The dress code was “dress blues,” which for Elliott meant his $500 Army uniform which he has worn once before in his entire Army career, and for me meant LBD or something similar. And babysitters were provided for the night!

Fabulous, right? Dream come true? Not so for several factors:

1) Elliott does not have his $500 Army uniform which he has worn once before in his entire Army career. It is in his express shipment from Egypt to Sicily, a shipment that should have arrived weeks ago. But when he inquired about it, he got an email that it only left Egypt last week. So buy another uniform? Not so easy when you now work on a Navy base! What on earth was he going to wear? This is a big deal, particularly because all the important higher ranking officers in his Command would be there.

2) I don’t have a LBD in my suitcase. I have been living out of a suitcase since May and will be till after Thanksgiving. In that oh-so-carefully-packed suitcase there is no black silk tricotine or taffeta. What was I going to wear? The now-faded sundress Elliott bought me for $10 in Rockport, MA, when my clothes were soaked after sea kayaking and I needed something dry? Ehhh…

3) I forgot the breastmilk I’d stored for Lena. It is still sitting in our freezer in Sicily. Also I forgot my breastpump. And bottles. We’re seriously committed to feeding Lena only breastmilk, no formula. So maybe I could buy a cheap pump? I went to the store. They only sell electric pumps for $70-150 each. Scratch that. Yikes.

So the Epic Evening Out was turning into the Epic Fail for the young Garbers. How could we redeem this? Attendance at the banquet was mandatory for Elliott, and I was not going to stay home with Lena; I knew he needed and wanted me, and my participation was important for our marriage and his relationship with his peers. So… we needed to get creative.

1) We went to the NEX, which is like the Walmart on Navy bases. We found some dark gray slacks, black dress shoes, an only-semi-tacky tie, and a handsome blazer for Elliott. No suits available, sadly. Elliott looked dashing. Anyway, his plight was unavoidable and understandable; his commanders gave him permission to wear civilian clothes and that’s what we would do for the night.

2) I called my [brand new] friend Leah. “Leah, I think you’re about my size… do you have a dress I could borrow?” She did! Her little black taffeta number fit fabulously, so fabulously that now Elliott and I wish I could keep it. The NEX had some gold earrings, and I had dressy gold sandals in my suitcase. Score.

3) For Lena’s milk, let’s just say her mommy learned what it means to “self-express.” It took me days, but I had two [smallish] bottles of milk to pass off along with my baby. The babysitter at the CDC was an incredibly friendly and warm young woman. I left Lena anxiously but ultimately decided that worrying wasn’t helping anything; I prayed that God would take care of her and left it at that.

After all that drama, choosing to let go and have fun meant we were in store for a great evening. All Elliott’s fellow Captains/veterinarians were vocally envious of Elliott’s comfortable outfit. His commanders knew what to expect and didn’t seem to mind at all. Someone told Elliott he looked like James Bond in that jacket… and wouldn’t you rather look like James Bond at a military banquet any day? I loved my dress and loved being at a party again. I loved being the girl with Elliott; I always have. We ate until we could eat no more and still the food kept coming. I counted about 8 different dishes, all of the best Italian fare. Elliott and his commander bonded over their days at the MFO in Egypt (where his commander met his beautiful Israeli wife). The wine flowed, the speeches waxed, the awards shone.

Of course we weren’t organized enough to remember everything, and thus forgot a camera. Here’s a grainy iPhone picture:

And the babysitter never called. Much later that evening when we slipped into the CDC to pick her up, Lena was fast asleep and had been for hours. There had been enough milk.

And her parents carried her home.