In Our Own Backyard

After school most days, there's a large gathering of kids and parents who hang out at the climbing structure on the school playground. I've been encouraging Luke and Jaz to stay and play for a bit before we head home, partially to encourage them to make new friends, but also just to use up as much of their energy as possible (and so that I can catch my breath from my bike ride into town before loading up the bakfiets again). Zeb usually watches for a few minutes, and then joins his brothers climbing and sliding. On Tuesday last week, they were all 3 playing on the big twisty slide for a good amount of time, having so much fun all together. I love it when that happens. I was standing around with the other parents, trying to make new friends myself, and failing miserably. It's hard to believe that I'm one of "the parents" sometimes, and I just don't feel like I really fit in all too well (though I'm sure there are other parents at the school who feel exactly the way I do). I am certainly younger than most of the other moms, but I hate to think that that's the reason why I feel like I don't fit in. I think maybe it's that I have yet to really see myself as a grownup. All of these other moms and dads standing around making chit chat remind me more of my parents than of my peers. And it's hard for me to imagine them seeing me as one of their peers. But clearly my perception is at least somewhat misguided since the other moms and dads can't be much more than 10 years older than me, while my parents are now nearing 60. It makes me wonder if this is the way all grownups feel. Like we're not really old enough to be the grownups yet. Anyway, so the kids were all playing happily on the slide, and I was standing there with all the other adults, who were mostly talking amongst themselves. And it dawned on me that I could actually play with my children instead of just watching them. Don't get me wrong--I'm a huge fan of having kids who can play by themselves on a climbing structure (or at the beach, or in a field, or in their playroom), without me standing right there beside them--it's not that I question why I've been encouraging this kind of independence all along. It's just that I had forgotten that I like to play on climbing structures too. I mean, really, it wasn't that long ago that my friends and I used to seek out the coolest playgrounds in town . . . or was it?

So I joined the kids on the slide. And they looked at me wide-eyed and hugged me when I finally made it to the top (the game was to climb UP the slide and then all go down together in a big pile). I introduced them to the game of "lava," where you pretend that the ground is liquid hot magma, and no one can touch it without melting into oblivion. The challenge was to try and get to all the different areas of the climbing structure without touching the wood chips. Jaz cheered when I made it across the monkey bars and he said, "I love it when you're so crazy, mom," before throwing his arms around me and exclaiming, "we all love you, mom." Other kids who were playing asked me if I was the baby-sitter. Is that sad? That to be a grownup playing with my kids, I'd be assumed to be the baby-sitter? Or maybe it's that I'm really not a grownup yet.

We ended up staying at the school until close to 5:00 and then having to bike home in a big hurry so as not to worry anyone (too late, they were already worried). It was an exhilarating afternoon. But when I woke up on Wednesday morning, I could hardly move. Every muscle in my body felt like it had been ripped apart. Ow. Apparently, I am a grownup. A grownup who's in terrible climbing-structure shape. The monkey bars and the trolley zip are what really did me in. I literally have never been so sore all over my body in my whole life. It was worse than my early weeks of learning how to row on the Smith crew team. Seriously, if I did that everyday, I'd be in amazing shape. Of course, I can't really imagine ever doing it again based on how awful I felt for the next 4 days, but still. I would definitely be one buff mama.

Needless to say, when I picked the kids up with the bakfiets at noon on Wednesday, I did not especially want to take them out somewhere for our third weekly Wednesday Afternoon Adventure. More than not wanting to, I really felt like I couldn't. So we decided to stay home instead and let Zeb take a nap. When he woke up, I suggested that we go exploring in our own backyard, but Luke and Jaz were absorbed in their markers and chose to stay inside. Zeb and I headed out alone, and then Jaz joined us after a bit.

running out to the field

looking for bugs

wading through the tall grass

When Jaz came out, I tried to take some pictures of him and Zeb together, but after one shot he insisted on taking over with the camera.

Zeb and Jaz basking in the sun

Zeb and me, going in for a kiss
(photo by Jaz)

Zeb and me, basking in the sun
(photo by Jaz)

doing what we do best
(photo by Jaz)

Jaz decided that it would be fun to try and take a picture of all the cool things in our backyard. Here is what he found:

A bug
(photo by Jaz)

Mushrooms
(photo by Jaz)

Some Other Fungus
(photo by Jaz)

Dandelion
(photo by Jaz)

It was a lovely Wednesday Afternoon Adventure after all. Our backyard is a truly fabulous place to hang out, full of all sorts of wonderful things. I'm sure there's much more still left to discover. By Saturday morning I was starting to feel like my "old" self again, having mostly recovered from the climbing structure experience. The boys are eager for another round of "lava," and I just might go ahead and give it another try this Tuesday. If only to spend the rest of the week feeling all achy and sore, like a real grownup.

Mabon Marshmallows

Three years ago, I decided to start celebrating some of the Pagan holidays. I was envious of families whose religions allowed them regular celebrations and rituals to help mark the passage of time. Lena and I were both raised celebrating the Santa Claus version of Christmas and the Easter Bunny version of Easter, but without any real religion. None of our parents would identify as Christian, and we never went to Church or believed in God. There was little meaning behind our celebrations, aside from togetherness with family. As a child, I wished I could be Jewish. I went to a Jewish camp and learned many Hebrew songs and was fascinated by the numerous holidays and traditions. But as an adult, the idea of converting to Judaism seemed false. I love the culture but don't necessarily believe in many of the more religious aspects of the faith.

Lena and I had long been celebrating the winter solstice (Yule) together as opposed to Christmas, partially because it made things easier scheduling-wise (we could then go on to be with our extended families on Christmas), but also because it made more sense to us. I didn't feel like any sort of a fake celebrating the solstice, the way I felt celebrating Christmas. Yule is the first day of winter, the shortest day of the year, a time to appreciate our earth and celebrate the fact that the days are getting longer and lighter. Who wouldn't believe in that? So when I started feeling the itch to add more "religion" to our kids' lives, it made sense to look to the Pagan beliefs and holidays. With the help of the book, Circle Round: Raising Children in Godess Tradition, I learned that there were ways we could be celebrating the earth with our kids all year round. We planned to incorporate celebrations of the Summer Solstice, the Spring and Fall Equinoxes, and Samhain (Halloween) into our lives. Every year, our celebrations become richer and more meaningful. The kids are beginning to understand what we are celebrating and why. We hope to instill in them a deep love and respect for our Mother Earth as well as to strengthen their connection to the earth and the seasons.

The first thing we did after we decided to "convert" to Paganism was to buy an outdoor fireplace so that we could add fire to our celebrations. Circles and stars are both significant Pagan symbols, the circle representing the circle of life, and each point on the star represents one of the elements (earth, air, fire, water and spirit). So we feel like our fireplace is pretty perfect.

For Mabon this year, we made the fire in my mom's backyard, right next to the river, and decided to add Marshmallows to our ceremony.

The grassy hill behind us is the dike.
The Connecticut river is on the other side.

Zeben had his first ever taste of melty Marshmallow.

He decided it was more fun to do the roasting and feed the marshmallows to the rest of us.

Jaz made S'Mores for the first time. The verdict? Yum.

Lukas worked on perfecting his technique for making
"golden brown" marshmallows,
but had no interest in tasting one.

The last part of our Mabon celebration this year was a big feast (Mabon is sort of like Thanksgiving, it's a time to enjoy all the food that is being harvested at Summer's end) that we did potluck-style with friends. It was delicious. I was too busy eating to take any pictures.

The next holiday we will celebrate is Samhain (Halloween), which we recognize by making lanterns out of pumpkins, dressing up in costumes, and remembering our ancestors. We may sneak in a few more fires (and marshmallows) before then, though!

Garlic and Arts

On Saturday we headed north to attend one of our very favorite annual happenings: The North Quabbin Garlic and Arts Festival. The festival's mission statement:

The North Quabbin Garlic and Arts Festival is a celebration of the artistic, agricultural and cultural bounty of the region. The purpose of the festival is to unite North Quabbin people whose livelihoods are connected to the land and the arts, and to invite both local residents and those who do not live in the region to experience the richness of an area that is often overlooked. The festival emphasizes what is homegrown and high quality, as well as what helps preserve and support the environment.

We experience the event as a large gathering of fun people, all enjoying yummy food (much of it cooked with garlic) and appreciating the work of local artists. There's also lots of laying around on the grass, listening to music and hula-hooping. The timing of the festival coincides with the fall equinox, and so we incorporate it into our Mabon celebration (a celebration of the harvest and a thanksgiving for all that is beautiful around us (food, art, people, the land)).

One of the kids' favorite parts about the festival is the farm animals. Zeb, especially, would have been happy to hang out watching the ducks, sheep, goats, and bunnies for the entire length of our stay.

burying their hands in the softest angora rabbits

The hula hoops (huge quantities of handmade hoops spread out on a large section of field) are another festival highlight.

Jaz learned to hula hoop for the first time at the festival

Lena showing off her crazy hula hooping skills

Zeb got his first taste of hooping on Nama's shoulders

I really love getting to check out all of the artists' booths. Lots of inspiration. I hope that next year I can be there with my own little booth of handmade things. Lukas fell in love with this beautiful gnome puppet, and he (now named "Nugget") came home with us.

Being surrounded by such invigorated energy felt amazing. I never wanted to leave. I wish we could go "garlic and artsing" once a month. To remind ourselves what life is all about. I'll have to work on figuring out how to have more of that kind of experience worked into our life.

Three boys loving up their Nama at the end of the festival

Butterfly Bliss

As the Monarch Butterflies continue to hatch in our dining room, we continue to send them off to Mexico (or perhaps it's actually Florida) with well wishes and the request that they come back next summer and lay their eggs in our yard.

Wet Wednesday

For our second weekly Wednesday Afternoon Adventure I decided to do something a little more mellow than last week. I was exhausted from bakfietsy-ing the kids to and from school (more on that soon) and taking them out to lunch (Zeb was overtired and Jaz had to poop--never fun in public), and was actually pretty close to deeming the Wednesday Afternoon Adventure plan the "shortest-lasting tradition ever," but the boys made me rally. I decided we'd stick to something flat and where my involvement could potentially be limited to sitting down and watching. The place I decided upon, "Amethyst Brook" in Amherst, was the perfect choice. There are all sorts of fun paths through the woods and bridges over the brook. I envisioned games of pooh-sticks and nature treasure hunts. Things didn't go exactly as I'd imagined they might.

The trails were lovely and inviting, and the kids were running ahead in no time. Lukas managed to run right into a big pile of dog poo pretty much right away, which was unfortunate, but he also managed to not totally fall apart about it (despite the fact that he was wearing new shoes), which was great (although I still had to spend about 10 minutes trying to scrape the poo off his shoe). We then came to the first bridge, which was just as glorious in the kids' eyes as I hoped it would be. They didn't stay on the bridge for long, though. The water was even more exciting than the bridge.


Things then quickly went from dry to wet. Despite the relatively mild weather (I was wishing for a sweatshirt), and the freezing water temperature, there was just no keeping the kids out of the river.

What began as a careful investigation, quickly escalated to three soaking wet boys. Zeb was the first to fall in. Then Luke and Jaz took their shoes off so they could "go a little deeper."


Before I knew it, they were up to their knees. And then Luke fell in. And then he asked, "since I'm already wet, is it okay if I get wet?" and both he and Jaz ended up on their bellies in the middle of the river, playing some sort of surfing game.

Once everyone was sufficiently numb, we left the water and checked out the nearby attraction of a fallen tree before heading for home.

As we walked out to the car, I had to drop the 3 pairs of wet and muddy shoes, and the 3 pairs of wet and muddy socks, and Zeben's wet and muddy pants on the ground so that I could take a couple pictures of my Adventuresome Trio in the most amazing pre-sunset lighting.

I did not, however, decide to capture the moments that followed once we reached the car and I had to buckle 3 wet and muddy (and hungry and tired) kids into their car seats and take them to Whole Foods because we were entirely out of food and needed to buy dinner (and because, of course, whenever I have 3 wet, muddy, hungry, tired, partially pantsless and shoeless kids with me, I think "wouldn't this be a great time to go grocery shopping?"). Zeben cried and screamed the entire time we were in the store, and Luke and Jaz whined about all the things I wouldn't let them buy (breakfast pastries were at the top of the list), and I somehow managed to buy $18.00 worth of mashed potatoes from the hot bar (which made ME cry once I realized it in the car), and all in all I did not feel especially lovely about our second attempt at this new Wednesday tradition.

But I'm not giving up yet. Because I like traditions. And because I need a chance to do it all over again in a much more prepared state (with towels and 3 changes of clothes and dinner ready and waiting at home). And because I like having an Adventuresome Trio. Even when they make me carry their muddy shoes.

Wash Your Worries Away

When Luke and Jaz were born it took me a little while to really bond with them and to connect the babies in my arms with the babies who had been inside me. I think my difficulty stemmed from the traumatic birth as well as the fact that I had two babies to be bonding with at once. When I'd snuggle one, I'd feel guilty about neglecting the other. If one of them had an easy day and the other had a difficult day, I'd worry that maybe I liked the "easy" baby better. I resented each of them for not letting me indulge fully in just loving one of them up, the way the other moms in my "beyond birth" support group got to. I felt quite tormented by my feelings until I discovered the bliss of bathing with my babies. One at a time, I'd take them into the tub with me and pretend I was giving birth to them the way I'd always imagined it happening. Peacefully, quietly, in the water. And for some reason this made all the difference in the world. From then on, whenever we'd hit a rough patch in the day, I'd fill the tub. Before long I became adept at bathing with both babies at once, and on some days we'd take 3 or 4 baths a day! We all enjoyed it so much.

As the years went by, I continued to enjoy sharing a tub with the kids. We no longer bathed together several times a day, but we did it at least once a week or so. I've always felt like it's the closest I can get to putting kids back in my womb for a bit. Usually our baths leave us all feeling better connected and in better moods. When I was pregnant with Zeb, we lived in a house with a 2-person jacuzzi bathtub. Sometimes we'd spend the whole morning in the tub, where my nausea was somewhat relieved and Luke and Jaz were happy to play with little actual attention from me. The bath has also always been the best response to an early riser. When a toddler wakes up at 5:30 and simply won't go back to sleep, climbing into a warm tub can make the whole scene much more pleasant for a sleep-deprived mama.

Needless to say, the bathtub is a very important feature of any house we live in. Our new house has a pretty sweet old cast iron tub. It's not as long as the tub in our last house, but it's slightly wider and perhaps a bit deeper as well. The three kids fit well together (and Zeben has finally weaned himself from only taking baths with me to taking baths "alone" with his brothers).

Jaz has been having a really rough time at bedtime lately. I think it has to do with the new school situation, or maybe it's the new house, or maybe it's just the age. Regardless of the reason, as soon as dinner is over, he morphs into this other unfortunate version of himself. He throws things and acts as though he can't hear and kicks and screams. Yesterday evening I decided it was time to try out the new tub and see if a family bath might improve Jasper's state.

Thankfully, I fit! It was actually surprisingly roomy. No one was too squished and there was plenty of space for rearranging and adding hot water without worrying about burning anybody.

Jaz did soften up and melt into me for a while. Zeben nursed and Lukas entertained himself with bath toys. It was peaceful and lovely, a huge sigh of relief.

Unfortunately, once bath time was over, Jaz switched back into Nightmare Child Mode, and bedtime was just as difficult as it's been. But our family tub still served a purpose. The 20 minutes of warm water and skin-to-skin contact certainly lifted my spirits and I felt better able to handle Jasper's nightly tantrum having just experienced such loveliness with him. So while the bath wasn't exactly the magic solution I was hoping it might be, it still proved itself as a useful tool. One that I'm sure we'll be turning to more and more often as the temperature outside continues to drop.

Diaperless

Lately I've been feeling like maybe I'm done with changing diapers. Not indefinitely, by any means (I'd have 3 more babies if my wife felt so inspired), but done with changing Zeben's diapers. I think my current misgivings about diapers are at least in part a reflection of Zeben's equally unenthusiastic feelings about having his diaper changed. There just comes a time, when you're chasing your naked toddler around the house and then pinning him down with your leg so that you can use both hands to fasten the diaper, where you have to wonder, "is this really necessary? Can we be done with this yet?" Perhaps one of the downsides of elimination communication (which we've practiced very loosely with Zeb) is that it can feel like you've been working towards the diaper-free goal for years. Progress is sometimes painfully slow.

Since we've moved, I haven't been using cloth diapers much at all. Mostly because of the diaper change struggle (our cloth diapering stash is currently limited to prefolds, which aren't the easiest diaper to put on a wriggling toddler), and also because it was just easy to let cloth diapering slip when we had so much going on with packing and unpacking. But while the sight of my sweet little one with his cloth bum brought me joy and made me enjoy the art of diapering, I just can't seem to feel as inspired about the disposables we've been using for the past couple weeks.

Sweet cloth bum

Of course the timing is pretty rotten, what with Zeb just having started nursery school and the colder weather fast approaching. But I'm trying to follow his lead and instead of chasing Zeb around the house to diaper him, we're experimenting with more and more naked time. "No diaper!" he says, and I say, "okay. But you tell me if you have to pee." And he'll give me a little preview of how it's going to go: "Mo-om, pee-ee!" But, so far he has yet to really grasp the advanced warning part of the plan (usually I get informed as the pee is making its appearance).

Sometimes I wonder if he thinks that potties are actually for sitting on and reading books (rather than peeing).

He seems to prefer to actually pee on the big toilet
(which makes sense since he doesn't see anyone else peeing in the little potties).

But the best place of all for peeing is on the grass outside.

We have yet to brave the world of pants, but things are going pretty well here in naked diaperless land. At the very least, there are fewer struggles over diapers. Hopefully it will all click in Zeb's head sometime soon. Until then, I will be like Joshua's mother in "Once Upon a Potty," and keep on changing him.