Little Women

Little Women (1868-9) by Louisa May Alcott

In my 20s, pre-husband and kids, I went through a phase of reading this book every winter.  It was one of my all-time favorites.  I loved that tradition too, but haven’t quite been able to get those 562 fine print pages into my life since mamahood.  I adored Greta Gerwig’s approach to the story, and I’ve loved reading about Alcott’s life–wow.  I’m really, REALLy hoping to visit Orchard House soon, but we’ll see.  Having not read through the book in over a decade, I feel ill-equipped to make too many remarks at the moment, only to say that if you’ve never visited this book, I highly recommend you do.  I recently read a modern, young reader take on the story, which I also loved, Littler Women.

Last year Orchard House was offering some virtual tours which helped support them through the shut-downs.  They were so fun to watch, and what a great place to support.

I just found these vintage paper dolls, which I also had to share.

 

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Littler Women

An Unexpected Mini-Break on the Front Step

I went to go get the mail yesterday.  And, I don’t know if it was the excitement of sneaking out of the house without kids following me or perhaps just pure clumsiness, but I fell.  We have one step on our front stoop.  One.  And I completely missed said-step and fell.  The decorative rocks of the path scraped up my knees and the palms of my hands.  I was bleeding and sobbing.  (I never think of myself as someone who stores emotions, and, if you know me, you’d wonder how I have any left.  But every time I get hurt, a huge rush of emotions come pouring out along with the hurt and surprise of it all.)

ANYway.  So, I’m sitting on the ground outside, crying because I’m hurt.  Crying because none of our neighbors are out and we don’t know any of them and none of them would even care if I was hurt anyway.  – You get the picture.  I’m feeling awfully sorry for myself.  But even as my tears are streaming down and blood is dripping onto my clothes, I’m simultaneously thinking:

Ahhhh, this is such a lovely little break.  I’m outside.  Nobody knows I’m here.  Nobody is asking me anything.  It’s completely quiet (except for my own sobs, of course).

So, I quieted down and stayed a little longer.  I got as comfortable as I could, given my injuries, and sat and enjoyed the peace and the breeze and the break.  What an unexpected, wonderful gift of time.  Almost, dare I say, like a mini-vacation.

These are the stories that need to be told in high school sex-ed programs, because moments like these – well, that’s parenting.  (Or, rather, what a break from parenting looks like.)

 

(*My husband was inside with the kids, so I wasn’t being completely irresponsible by taking so much time for myself.  Maybe next time I fall, we could get a babysitter and have ourselves a date!)

Issues with Kon Mari

It’s been awhile since I read Marie Kondo’s books.  Like most people, I took a lot away from them.  Despite the exhausting days of early Motherhood, I remember taking out my “like” items late at nights and finding those that sparked joy.  I think it’s a great way to view not only our current possessions, but also those we plan to bring into our lives.  (The mindless “click and buy” and shameless support of the evil Bezos has really got to stop.)  I reflect on this sparking joy mentality often and found there are actually very few possessions that I find to be “precious” to me.

I held onto clutter and childhood objects and mounds of paper through waaaay too many moves.  I’ve been fine letting go of a majority of it.  Unfortunately, not all of us can afford to get rid of clothes that don’t spark joy or fit right as our mama sizes fluctuate during the early childhood stages.  And as an avid crafter, adamant reuser, and big believer in sustainable, reuse items (rather than disposables), I have more than people who don’t hold these things dear to their hearts.

But this brings me to my big environmental Kon Mari cringe.  Her books say very little about getting rid of your stuff responsibly.  It’s as if her mission for a tidy home takes a selfish priority over spending the time donating, recycling, and reusing these items.  While she does mention reusing small boxes for organizers, that seems to be the extent of it.  (Unless I’m remembering horribly wrong.)  I’m not on the mainstream social media, but even I came across photos online of proud Kon Mari followers with bags and bags …and bags of eliminated clutter headed to the dump.  The Dump!   AHHHHHH!  I have heart palpitations just thinking about the mindless followers of her words who just threw stuff away for their own “peace of mind,” while our Earth suffered the consequences.

And then there are kids.  Oh, kids.  As I was reading the books, I thought to myself, “This woman does not have children.”  Or, if she does, she must not let them out to play or live.  I was happy to see that when the Netflix show came out there was an episode with a family with two young children.  It’s been awhile since I watched it, but I do remember Marie saying her own young daughter loved folding along with her (ummmm…this is NOT my kids) and when asked if her daughter ever didn’t cooperate, there was some sort of response that didn’t sound all too kind.  But the real kicker was when these frazzled parents were ready to get started with Marie, and both of their kids (BOTH!) went down for naps!!  Our first-born didn’t know what a nap was until she was about three.  I remember she once took a 2-hour nap when she was a baby, and I frantically contacted all my mama friends to ask what could be wrong with her.  Our son napped, but only until he was about two, and only under very specific circumstances.  I turned the Netflix show off after witnessing this baffling 2-kid nap thing, realizing this just wasn’t a reality that matched my own.

Our kids LOVE their stuff!  Like, a lot.  I remember when one of my friends was super concerned that her two-year old didn’t want to donate his toys.  Being on the outside, it was easy to see how ludicrous this sounded.  Kids are new to the world, and they’re figuring it out.  Their possessions can be a big part of what helps ground them and keeps them comforted while they try to make sense of changes that we adults may not even recognize are happening.  Just because a kid doesn’t want to donate their toys doesn’t mean they’re going to turn into some grouchy, miserly adult.  In fact, the more a kid can trust that their stuff is “safe,” the less cling-y they will be about stuff in the long-run.  In theory, anyway.  I think when kids are young, the best you can do is make sure they see your example.  Not in an overly dramatic show of things (kids are too smart for that), but make sure they see you going through your things and finding good new homes for what you don’t need or use anymore.  Let them see you gift to others, and let them see the joy it brings you in return.  And then just sit back and trust.

Yes, all of that was easy for me to see when thinking about it from another person’s concerns.  But when it came to my own kids?  Yes, I had similar fears.  Why didn’t they want to downsize?  Why couldn’t they realize that some kids had very little and they had so much?  Couldn’t they see the clutter of their toys was making Mama crazy?!!   ….  But I came to peace with it.  (Well, I’m coming to peace with it–it’s a process.)  And I realized just how relatively quickly their childhoods will pass. (Although most days it doesn’t feel that way.)  My daughter will only want to play with dolls for so long.  And my son will only want to sit with us and do puzzle after puzzle for so long.  This time is precious and getting hung up on clutter right now just doesn’t make sense.

The great news though, is that A) I’m embracing my clutter lately, rather than fighting against it, and, more importantly, B) Marie Kondo’s site now has a “Mindful Discarding” guide!!   (I’m assuming this may have been in response to some very upset critics.)  Mind you, the guide is not terribly thorough, but the effort is there.  (I read a much better book on tidying and properly disposing of stuff that I will try to track down again soon!)

Anyway, there’s definitely good stuff to take away from Kon Mari (Oh, wait, you’re supposed to be getting rid of stuff…), but hopefully any of the small minority of people who haven’t tried it will be responsible about any future discarding.  It does make it harder, for sure.  We have piles of stuff in our garage in the in-between phase–we know we’re done with it, but it’s waiting to be donated or reused or sold.  And the piles of “specialty recycling” are there too–the batteries, the electronics, the textiles.  But if this past year has taught us anything, it’s just how connected we are.  So throwing all your clutter in a landfill does not make it disappear.  This Earth is our home.  Let’s treat our planet with the respect that Marie Kondo insists we give our immediate living spaces.

Update on Marie Kondo:
She has three kids now!  and has “kind of given up on tidying.”  !!!

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Thank You, Dana!

Embracing Clutter

There are thousands of books and articles about de-cluttering.  Yes, I know it’s better for our mental health and energy levels to live in a clutter-free environment.  I know not everyone is on board with this “clutter-free” idea, but I happen to fully agree.  It’s just…

It’s not in my natural instinct, for one.  Which, granted, is no excuse.  But I also realize that, especially as a parent, I’m constantly faced with choices.  And as nice as a clutter-free, tidy home might sound, it just never ranks as a top priority for me.  So, I can either stress and fight against the chaos that is our home, or I can step over the clutter on the floor and live my life.  And, lately, I’m really trying for the latter.

I don’t like my kids sitting in front of a TV.  I borderline loathe it.  I’ve turned to it more this past year than I would care to admit to myself.  But when it comes to daily routine, I can either plop them in front of a screen while I tidy or spend that time letting them play (and, let’s face it, make more mess).  Yes, I know the ever-present idea that they should be involved in the clean-up.  I agree…to a point.  I once went with my daughter to a playdate when we were new to an area, and the mom spent the. entire. time. on the kids’ cases to clean up.  She followed each of their activities madly putting things away, instead of just letting them enjoy their time and letting us sit and get to know each other.  We easily could have cleaned up before leaving.  It was stressful and awkward, and it made me really happy for our messy home.

I believe kids’ jobs are to play.  I think many adults cling to an idea that if their three-year old doesn’t clean up his every mess that he will become some irresponsible, slob of an adult.  My kids do help to an extent, but they’re kids.  Not mini adults.  And frankly, if I don’t want to be tidying, why spend my time nagging my kids to do so?  My kids are also highly creative.  With homeschool and, apparently, parents who don’t need a Pinterest-perfect home, it’s game-on for creative projects.  There are always bits of paper everywhere and elaborate constructions of toys.  There are usually pillows and blankets dragged out for forts or boats or whatever make-believe play has struck their fancy.

At nighttime, I’d rather snuggle them to sleep with stories than close the door and participate in the cruel and antiquated “cry it out” mentality, regardless of their ages.  I remember how frightening nighttime could be for me, even as an older kiddo.  I want our kids to feel safe and comforted.  To me, this is part of the job.  Sure, it sucks sometimes, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.  So, instead of doing a quick evening tidy, I’m in our family bed cuddling and telling stories.  Again, tidying takes a backseat.

And then there’s me.  I’d much rather spend my “free” time (Ha!) sewing or creating something (or typing this) than tidying up.  It’s just not high on my priority scale.  The result sounds nice, but… Nah.  And maybe this makes me lazy or a procrastinator.  But, honestly, the stuff will eventually get picked up.  It’s not like the kids will be teens and we’ll be stepping over these same piles of stuff that are here now.  (No, we’ll have new piles of stuff by then, of course!)

I also have this environmental weakness for always wanting to find a creative re-use for an item.  This is something that is never covered in de-cluttering manuals–The Obsessive Environmentalist.  So, at any given time, our cupboards have old toothpaste caps and outgrown baby socks and empty floss containers and old vitamin bottles, and a huge array of other miscellany.  (Please tell me I’m not the only one who does this!)

And, oh, the kids’ artwork!   When we had to evacuate last year for a fire, this was the top thing on my mind.  And even though I’ve tried to take photos of their creations, and I realize it’s about the process mainly at this stage, I still value these far too much to just recycle them.  And my kids create a LOT of art.  And a lot of awkwardly-shaped art.  It’s part of what comes from the flexible days of homeschool and the lack of directed projects.  I have buckets and places for these, but that doesn’t stop them from creeping all over the house.  Ah, well.  Another winner over the tidy house.

Obviously this is something I could rattle on about for awhile–mainly, I’m sure, in an attempt to convince myself it’s OK to be living in a messy house.  But with so many picture-perfect homes out there covering the Internet, it’s important for us chaotic, messy homes to stick together and realize a clutter-free life ain’t everything.  If a cluttered desk is a cluttered mind, then what the heck is an empty one?*

 

*Arguably, many Zen-type followers may be hoping for a clear and “empty” mind, and I applaud that.  But, at this stage of life, I’ll take my lot of ideas and thoughts, Thank you.

LOL

I don’t know if I laugh out loud enough.  Probably not many of us do.  But, when I do, I get it.  I understand the importance of comedy and laughter in our lives.  And I want more!

I love being around people who make me laugh out loud, and I’m very lucky to say that many of the people in my life fill this role quite well.  I dislike when people or movies try to get a cheap laugh by tearing someone else down or by trying to be crass.  That’s not my type of comedy.  (So, that rules out a good majority of current TV shows and movies for me.)  I love witty comedy and, yes, I loves me some good puns.

I always thought “comedic timing” was about the timing of a live comedy performance or maybe the rhythm and pace of lines in a TV show or movie.  It never occurred to me that comedic timing can also be the actual time period of a joke.  Certain phrases or lines that may have been big hits decades ago may make no sense in modern context.  (And a slew of lines from 80s TV shows and commercials just rang through my head.)  And certain subjects definitely aren’t ready to be the core of jokes until decades from now.  There’s also our own personal comedic timing.  Things that have cracked me up in the past may not elicit the same response now.  And I think this is what makes comedy so magical.  It’s fluid and timely, and when it hits you, it’s unexpected.  That’s what makes it come alive.

The other night, as I was reading this book, I completely lost it.  I was in hysterics.  And as I tried to explain the reason for my laughter attack to my husband, I just laughed harder.  Actual tears were streaming down my face to the point where I didn’t know if I was laughing or crying, and I couldn’t catch my breath.  These kind of laughter fits are treasured ones.  And it made me reflect on other times in my life when I’ve laughed uncontrollably:

–Watching Wayne’s World for the first time in a budget theatre with my dad and brother
–Many instances with my childhood family, but the one that sticks out right now is at a restaurant we went to on vacation
–Seeing a Gary Larson cartoon in high school (which I cannot find even on the great wide Internet) of a caveman family riding an elephant, with the little boy saying, “Coast, Dad.  Coast.”
–Reading Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason on a friend’s houseboat
–Watching a live clown show (Yes, clown show) at the local library (I definitely didn’t see that one coming)
–Reading Darth Vader and Son on the couch, while holding my new baby boy.  (Serious gasping for air on this one–although my hormones were all over the place)
–Playing a video game with my son
–Laughing in bed with my daughter about a misunderstood deadly calf
–Reading Jenny Lawson’s book, Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, on the couch before bed

The interesting thing, of course, is that I can remember exactly where I was and who I was with during each of these “episodes.”  There are countless others and ones on smaller scales.  And even though I may not be able to repeat these laugh-out-loud moments with the same triggers, I like remembering them.  It reminds me to seek out more of these moments in my life.  The moments that make me forget whatever silly thing I was worried about and plant me very firmly in enjoying the now.

Studies show that laughter relieves pain, relaxes stress, and stimulates the immune system.”

From House Calls by Patch Adams