Ten ways to rock your parenting – wherever you are

Ten ways to rock your parenting - wherever you are. {Clean.}

Ten ways to rock your parenting - wherever you are. {Clean.}

Ten ways to rock your parenting - wherever you are. {Clean.}

When I wrote this post last week so many of you got it. You really got it. But most of you probably did before you read it too.

Blogs are so often like that. We are taking to the people who are already there. Because that's why so many of you come here. It's familiar. It's reinforces what you already believe.

But one mama wrote something about that post that I couldn't shake.

She said,

"It's beautiful. But just reminds me where I fail. We live in an apartment, in a bad neighborhood. I can't send them outside to explore, by themselves."

Oh. Right.

That.

That reality of so very many parents in the world. Where it is safer indoors than out. Where there is no backdoor to throw open; no grass to run barefoot through. And even if there were, you wouldn't. You couldn't.

That.

And if this mama assumed I was writing with a picture in my head of kids living in safe, green neighborhoods, well… she was right.

That was humbling.

I didn't picture a child living in the inner city or on the fifth floor of an apartment building.

I didn't picture a child at school all day and at after-school care until seven.

I didn't picture so many of the stories that are reality for so many families.

I pictured my family. Here. In the country.

And I pictured the countless backyards devoid of children in neighborhoods where it is perfectly safe to venture out and play.

Ten ways to rock your parenting - wherever you are. {Clean.} 

The more I sat with her comment the more I felt that what I said might have missed the point for some of you, simply because of the context.

 

So today I'm giving it another go. This time written more for those of you without a yard or other safe place to run free.

Because giving your kids just what they need does not require special tools or a fancy environment.

It doesn't! You can rock this gig anywhere. Yes, even in an apartment in a bad neighborhood. Even without extra cash. Even with little spare time.

So thank you, mama, for reminding me to think outside of my small green box. This post is for you.

Here is another take on giving kids what they need – no matter where you call home.

Ten ways to rock your parenting - wherever you are. {Clean.}

Ten Ways to Rock Your Parenting – Wherever You Are

1. Put down your phone.

No matter where you live you can cultivate presence with your child. Choose your priority. Your time with your little one is fleeting. Facebook isn't going anywhere.
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Like any addiction it can be uncomfortable to make changes. But do it. It's so very worth it. (Tell you what. I'll do it too. There. Now you have a buddy. I won't check Facebook or Email except mindfully twice a day. I'll turn off my phone too. Are you in?)
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Edited at 3:30 PM to say: Dang! This is hard. Really, truly hard. I honestly found myself sneaking online (not sure who I was hiding from) to check for comments on this post. Sneaking! Oh, the irony. Know that unplugging is as challenging for me as for you. Mercy. But I'm doing my best. And it ain't perfect.

2. Turn off the screens.

If you're going to go, go big. (See discomfort acknowledged in step 1. Ahem.)

Curb your own screen addiction and that of your child. I know. Media is easy. It's relaxing. (Sort of.) It's like a mini vacation.

But it's not the best way to spend your free time. Especially when you're a kid.

I've always taken a pretty radical stance on media for children. Turn off the screens and they will become more grounded, more imaginative, more present. And in that space life will bloom.

3. Embrace boredom.

Ten ways to rock your parenting - wherever you are. {Clean.}

You do not need to entertain your child.
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Nope. You don't.
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And while I'm not suggesting that you ignore them, I am suggesting that you let them get bored.
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Boredom can be uncomfortable (for you and for your child) but it's a path that leads to creativity if you let it do its work.
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When you move through boredom creativity will flourish and magic will happen. (But first it might get a little ugly.)
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The steps that follow can help mitigate some of the discomfort that comes with this change and turn your family on to a whole new presence of mind.

4. Find nature where you live.

Ten ways to rock your parenting - wherever you are. {Clean.}

Nature can be found in big expanses of green or in a clay pot on your windowsill. Heck, nature can be found in a crack in the sidewalk it you just take time to lay on your belly and look.

Do one of the items on the list below, or do them all. It's up to you.

*Watch clouds drifting across the sky and imagine aloud the magic pictures they contain. You can even make cloud art with your child, painting with a teased apart cotton ball instead of a brush.

*Watch and/or feed the birds. Hang a feeder from your window, or visit a park and sit quietly beneath the trees.
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*Keep a pet fish. Thrift stores often have old aquariums for a few bucks, and a goldfish can be had for less than $1 out of the "feeder" tank at the pet store. Super affordable, simple nature experience. Done.
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*Make a nature table. A nature table is a simple shelf or corner of your home where you arrange pinecones, sticks, leaves, flowers… anything that communicates the season to your family. Every month or so remove anything ratty looking and add some new items. Your kids will go crazy for this.

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Prepare yourself for so. Many. Acorns.
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*Make a homemade terrarium in an old peanut butter jar.
*Plant flowers with your child. In your yard. In a chipped tea cup on your kitchen table. On your balcony. Or my favorite, in a vacant lot down the road. Anywhere. Read the book Miss Rumphius (the Lupine lady) for inspiration.
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*Find a safe, nearby natural area to visit often. It need not be big. Just green. Take your child there often. Make a ritual of visiting your "secret nature spot". 
*Look into the starry sky. No matter how much light pollution your neighborhood provides, you can surely see a star or two if you look deeply enough. Rooftops are often great for this if you have safe access!

5. Create rituals to celebrate the seasons.

Ten ways to rock your parenting - wherever you are. {Clean.}

Pagans celebrate the turning of the seasons at eight points in the calender. At the start of each season and at the mid-point. You don't have to be Pagan to celebrate the turning of the year!

These celebrations can be as simple as making a season painting together at your kitchen table, gathering with friends to celebrate, or taking a walk on the same path to take note of the turning of the year.

Put these on your calendar as you would an important birthday. Make time to celebrate the turning seasons.

6. Keep a phenology journal.

"Phenology journal" is a fancy way to say "seasonal nature book". Grab an old notebook and have your child decorate the cover.
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Then every time you notice something happening in nature – say, the maple leaves turning color in the fall or the last frost of the year – write it in your book.
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You'll begin to tune in and notice birds, insects, and weather patterns you never saw before.

7. Make art together.

Ten ways to rock your parenting - wherever you are. {Clean.}

We thrifted a big stack of old nature magazines recently. With some scissors and a little diluted white glue we could spend all day at our kitchen table, creating collages on old boards and pieces of cardboard.

Stock a drawer or shelf with some basic, affordable art supplies and let art replace screen-time. You'll all be glad you did.

Supplies to keep on hand: watercolor paint, tempra paint, thick paper (watercolor or other painting paper is nice), white paper (we use regular office paper), colored pencils or markers, and a few jars of random extras – buttons, glitter, acorn caps, etc.

You'll find lots more tips over here.

8. Grow food, prepare food, and eat together.

Ten ways to rock your parenting - wherever you are. {Clean.}

This is a powerful act.

You can grow food in a big garden outside or right on your kitchen counter.

Sprout seeds in a mason jar or grow edible herbs in pots. Re-grow celery from a cut off stalk.

Growing and eating food is a wonderful lesson to empower us in our lives!

9. Embrace unscheduled time.

We tend to over-engage, over-schedule, and over-plan. Childhood is no exception. Let your kids have free time. Lots of it.

They don't need more activities. They need more undirected free time. (Yes, even if it's happening inside the walls of your flat.)

10. Let them explore.

Ten ways to rock your parenting - wherever you are. {Clean.}

Give your kids a bucket of rocks to play with. Or their own bin of flour in the kitchen. Or some clay pots full of soil.

Fill the dishpan with soap bubbles and a pile of yogurt tubs and measuring cups. Stick them in the bathtub with a cup of baking soda and a bottle of vinegar.

Anything.

While my kids love playing mud kitchen, they also love what they call "potions". And this, friends, is like mud kitchen without the mud. And, um, indoors.

Potions involves vinegar, baking soda, beet juice, food coloring, stale spices, flour, water, cut grass, seeds, a mess of little jars and bowls… you get the idea.

Just let it flow and let it be and allow them to explore their world. Don't tell them what to do. Just let them go.

Clean-up can be epic, but it's worth the mess.

(We often do this in the tub.)

11. Love yourself and your life.

Ten ways to rock your parenting - wherever you are. {Clean.}

Okay, make it 11.

Know that life is imperfect. It's meant to be. There are lessons to be found in your less-than-ideal life, home, or schedule. Embrace the imperfection while you sift through for the magic within.

To live in a fifth story apartment means that when you do run barefoot through the grass it can be ecstasy. Even if it only happens once a year.

Love,
Rachel

 

Originally published in 2013.

Saying yes

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If I had said "no" the kitchen would have stayed tidy.

There wouldn't be this dusting of flour on the floor or so may dishes waiting to be put away at the end of the day.

If I had said "no" the afternoon would have been simple, quiet, predictable.

Adults at the helm! Agenda at the ready.

 

But instead I said yes.

It was cautious, reserved, and book-ended by deep breaths. But it was still that: a yes.

 

Hearing that single word your face opened in a delighted smile. And I smiled, too.

Yes, of course. This is what it's all about.

 

You found your cookbook and tied on an apron – my apron – that somehow fits you now. So tall. So grown.

You whispered to yourself softly as you re-read your recipe and I marveled at how capable you have become. You didn't need my help today. Is this the first time?

You moved quickly from the kitchen to pantry, gathering supplies. Grace. Confidence. Joy.

As you began to measure and mix you sang along to your favorite song. More grace; more confidence; more joy.

 

Life is messy, my friends. And we can stave off the chaos with an arsenal of "no"s to box us in and keep us safe.

Or we can embrace the "yes" and fall backwards into the arms of a life fully lived.

Messy, sure. But worth every moment.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

 

Love,
Rachel

 

 

Will you surprise yourself with a single unexpected "yes" today? See where it takes you.

 

My wish for peace

I promised you a LüSa coupon or giveaway every Saturday, but this morning this felt like a far more important message. Originally written in 2013 after the bombing in Boston; shared this morning for Paris, for Syria, for Lebanon – for us all.

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"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of ‘disaster,’ I remember my mother’s words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world.” – Mr. Rogers

my wish for peace {Clean. the LuSa Organics Blog}

my wish for peace {Clean. the LuSa Organics Blog}

my wish for peace {Clean. the LuSa Organics Blog}

my wish for peace {Clean. the LuSa Organics Blog}

my wish for peace {Clean. the LuSa Organics Blog}

When something unspeakable happens close to home most of us have the same reaction – a natural and appropriate one: we are sickened. We are angry. We feel small and vulnerable and afraid. We grieve and we worry and we wonder what will become of this species that we call our own.

And then for some of us (myself included) a second thing happens.

The unspeakable things that happen elsewhere in the world all come rushing in at once and I am dizzy with worry for us all.

I know that some cultures have lived with for years or for decades or forever with daily violence – some at the hands of their neighbors, some at the hands of their governments, some at the hands of my government.

And I grieve again.

And so today I pray for Boston. And at the same time I pray for all of us – everywhere – who suffer violence or live in fear for the safety of ourselves and our children.

My prayer is for peace.

A wish that my children – and children everywhere – can grow up in a world that is evolving towards peace.

Because humans have hurt and killed one another since the beginning of time. War and violence is part of our collective heritage.

But that truth is tiny compared with the immeasurable kindness we share with one another.

We take care of each other and protect each other and love each other every day. It's what we were designed to do. I can not speak for you, but my daily live is rich with amazing people and utterly devoid of the opposite. 

Because people are good. And kind. And helpful. And if you allow one person or one group of people to skew your view of humanity, please let it be the kind ones. 

Our hearts are so big. Never forget this and get lost in the suffering.

And then, perhaps, it's time to all do our part. Because one child at a time we have the power to change the world.

Let us nurture a culture of peace.

Let us be kind to others. At the crosswalk, at the grocery, on the freeway. Let us model peace in how we engage with the world.

Let us raise our children to be heard when they whisper – not just when they shout. Let us teach them that they matter and kindness matters and peace matters.

Let us teach them how to breathe into anger and how to navigate fear. Let us teach them how to be whole and safe and heard. Let us teach them to use their words, and model the same ourselves.

Let us change the world by changing how we live.

my wish for peace. {Clean. the LuSa Organics Blog}

If you are inspired, you can find my More Peaceful Parenting Series is here:

More Peaceful Parenting Step 1. Forgive, Accept, and Love Yourself.

More Peaceful Parenting Step 2. Identify the Need.

More Peaceful Parenting Step 3. Validate.

More Peaceful Parenting Step 4. Creating a Yes Environment.

More Peaceful Parenting Step 5. Your Mission Statement.

More Peaceful parenting Step 6. Just Listen.

More Peaceful parenting Step 7. Play!

 

Today, speak gently.

Today, find patience.

Today, begin your own evolution.

Be kind to a stranger. Buy a homeless person a meal. Help someone. Make time. Respect your children's needs.

And then watch the world begin to transform on these tiny ripples of peace.

Love and light to us all.

P.S. Below are a few links that might be helpful for any of you who's children have heard about what happened in Paris last night, or what has happened anywhere that brings fear and confusion.

Talking to your kids about Boston, from Aha! Parenting

A free audio story from Sparke Story, written after Sandy Hook

Tips for Supporting Children after a Crisis, from NASP

Talking with kids, from PBS

 

Ten tips for a happier life

Want deeper happiness? What more ease and joy in your life, your parenting, or your own skin?

I think we all do.

This morning I jotted down ten tips that will get you there. Practicing these every day will transform you.

I promise.

I picked these ten because they came easily for me, but there are hundreds more that will work as well.

Each tip contains a link to another blog post for those who want to dig even deeper.

So today, listen to your heart.

Choose joy.

Seek peace.

Be kind.

And watch your life transform.

Love,

Rachel

Ten tips for a happy life | Clean. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

Ten tips for a happy life | Clean. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

Ten tips for a happy life | Clean. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

Ten tips for a happy life | Clean. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

Ten Tips for a Happy Life

1. Slow Down

"Hurry up!" "Let's go!" "Not today – there's no time."

But there is. There are as many hours in the day now as ever – it's just a matter of how we fill them.

Pare back your schedule. Cut something from your calendar that you are doing because you think you should. Because this is your life. You get to call this shots. Set a pace you can not only live with, but thrive in. Slowing down just a bit lets us breathe deeper and live with more meaning.

Slowing down as a parent means putting down your to-do list and picking up your baby. It means letting your child linger on the walk home, lost in a world of spiderwebs and moss. It means letting them wander, explore, and imagine. It means making space to just be with your older child, sharing their passions and dreams.

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2. Be Authentic

Pretending to be something or someone you are not guarantees less joy in your life. Don't push your true self under the surface. Parent, teach, live, and work from your heart. It can change everything.

Being authentic as a parent means parenting from your heart, not from the advice of an "expert". It means remembering that you are the expert on your child. It means honoring your inner voice and parenting with your heart wide open.

3. Release Judgement

The greatest gift I ever gave myself was moving beyond judgement. I see others (and even myself) more clearly now. When you see someone parenting differently, loving differently, or worshiping differently instead of judgement reach for love. Everyone will feel uplifted.

Releasing judgement as a parent means letting your child be who they truly are. It also means allowing others to follow a different path than you. There are as many different ways to be as there are people on earth. Allow. And find beauty in our differences.

Ten tips for a happy life | Clean. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

4. Enjoy Simple Pleasures

Life if full of simple, quiet riches. A soft pillow and a warm bed, the sunrise and a cup of tea, a meal prepared at home and a loved one to share it with.

Our lives are full and we are blessed.

Enjoying simple pleasures as a parent means slowing down and truly enjoying our children. It means holding hands and taking walks together. It means laughing, coloring, and cooking – side by side. It means letting your teen teach you how to play their favorite game, and laughing at yourself with them. Nothing fancy, nothing expensive. Just time. Together.

5. Relax Control

Letting go of control means allowing others to choose a different path. It means taking control of yourself and releasing your need to control others. It's big. It's challenging. And it's a game-changer.

Relaxing control as a parent means choosing your "battles." It means asking yourself what really matters and reacting wisely. We don't need to always be in charge. And when we let go of that need everyone opens more to joy.

6. Count Your Blessings

When you look at your life do you see the messes or the magic? When your kids come home do you notice they are loud and dirty or do you notice the way their eyes shine and their voices sing after a fulfilling day? When your partner comes home from work do you notice that they are late or that they are helping pay the bills?

There are blessings at every turn. Make it a habit to notice. And let the rest go.

Counting your blessings as a parent means remembering every day that this time is brief and magical and will never come again. Savor the sweet spots in every day.

Ten tips for a happy life | Clean. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

7. Practice Kindness

There are countless ways to practice kindness. Let's start with being mindful of the power of our words. When you have something harsh to say, breathe. Breathe in peace, breathe out frustration. Speak your truth, but speak it gently.

Speaking kindly as a parent means practicing peaceful parenting. It means pausing before you react. It means apologizing when you loose your cool. It means finding a way to be heard when you use the softest voice.

8. Be More Present

We live distracted lives. Choose presence just a little more today. Be aware of the feel of the wind in your hair or the sun on your skin. Look into the eyes of your loved ones. Notice the colors, scents, and textures of your life.

Look up. There is beauty all around.

Being present as a parent means making time to just be with your child. To play their games. To look into their eyes. To hear their dreams. It means being nowhere else but here. If only for a moment.

Ten tips for a happy life | Clean. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

9. Seek Connection

Connection is possible. In fact, it's vital to our emotional well being. Connection with family, with friends, with strangers. Seek it. Cultivate it.

Connection means recognizing that we are not alone. It means there are people there to catch you when you fall.

Seeking connection as a parent means sharing a word of empathy with another parent in the thick of a hard day. It means finding your people (in person or even on-line). Find your community. It can change everything.

10. Embrace Imperfection

Everyone is a mess and perfection is a lie. Trying to live in a perfect world will do nothing more than make you crazy. Let it go. Breathe.

Embracing imperfection as a parent means having friends over depsite the piles of laundry, dishes, and dirt. It means accepting your own flaws and those of your partner and your child. It means remembering that everyone has rough days and tomorrow is a chance to start again.

I'd love to hear from you. What would you add to the list?

What is one of your keys to happiness?

 

 Originally published in 2014

Summer vacation & Lyme disease

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We had a trip to Yellowstone planned for the end of August.

Our second ever all-family cross-country road trip.

We found a farm-sitter, chose our campsites, and set to work on our packing list. First the Badlands, then Yellowstone, onto Colorado and home once more. Two weeks of never-forget-it summer vacation.

But something felt off. Pete and I were both dragging our feet on trip planning. It felt too enormous, too overwhelming. So we talked quietly one night about cancelling Yellowstone in exchange for another winter road trip. As a consolation we'd take a cabin trip now, like every summer before.

The kids were game, and we changed our plans.

We both exhaled.

Sometimes that's what life is about, isn't it? Putting down the picture-perfect magical "big" and picking up the small and simple that fits so comfortably in the palm of your hand.

And so we did.

I was thankful for my go-with-the-flow family and our love of small, simple, familiar.

As our trip unfolded I grew even more thankful.

Because just before we left I found a bulls-eye rash on my leg and was treated for Lyme disease. Yes, again. I resisted the idea that it was Lyme for days and I still might be unconvinced if Pete hadn't found a bag of chicken thighs in the freezer that I had confidingly labeled "throats".

I picked up my prescription.

And then as we headed north Pete fell sick with a strange on-again-off-again summer "flu" and I suspected Lyme for him as well. Day after day he became sicker and finally was also treated half-way through our vacation. He's much sicker than I was, and even still is only just gaining strength. As I type he's laying down to rest before we load up the car for the final push toward home.

Home. How sweet that sounds right now.

Like the best sort of medicine.

And so we'll take things slow. As slowly as we can, anyway, as we wind our way back to the farm and the work that awaits us there.

(In that spirit, I have a post over on Simple Homeschool that you might enjoy, on homesteading and homeschooling. It's a good one. You can find it here.)

Mostly though I'm just grateful that we heard our intuition and called off our epic vacation in exchange for one we could handle.

Small but wonderful blessings indeed.

Here's to healing, to simple, and to coming home.

 

 

 

Sunsets, summer and childhood

Somehow August snuck up on me and I can feel September coming in the cool breeze through my window.

Though summer is not my favorite, I feel myself holding fast to the days that remain.

And the growing of my children has sunck up on me as well, though I try each day to savor who each of them is right now, and tuck away memories for the lean years to come. We are preparing for Sage's 13th birthday, and I keep wanting to work through the math again to make sure we didn't miscalculate. Thirteen!

We have a couple of weeks to go but still. Whoa. For as brutally long as the early days (and nights) felt, these years have flown by.

I wrote this post last summer, but if feels even more resonant today than it did a year ago.

Sunset, summer, and childhood. On being here, now. | Clean. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

Sunset, summer, and childhood. On being here, now. | Clean. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

Sunset, summer, and childhood. On being here, now. | Clean. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

Sunset, summer, and childhood. On being here, now. | Clean. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

Sunset, summer, and childhood. On being here, now. | Clean. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

Sunset, summer, and childhood. On being here, now. | Clean. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

Sunset, summer, and childhood. On being here, now. | Clean. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

Sunset, summer, and childhood. On being here, now. | Clean. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

Is it possible to stand is awe of the beauty that surrounds us – night after night – just staring open-mouthed up into the clouds?

Somehow more amazed in this moment that the last again and again and again?

Yes, I think so.

The last two evenings have been among the prettiest I've ever seen, the light on the hills and on the clouds drawing us out just one more time before sleep.

 

Had it not been for the children I would likely have missed it, distracted online in the house.

"Mama, look at the light on the hills!" they called.

I snapped shut my computer and we raced outside, together.

I was thankful they were paying attention, even though I was not.

 

Technically, we were pushing on past bedtime.

Technically, the kitchen wasn't quite cleaned up from dinner.

Technically, tomorrow was a full day and we should have gone to sleep.

 

But watching my children chase fireflies through the tall grass in the amber light made me want to whisper promises to them through the darkness that I'll never hurry them again.

 

That I'll never over-schedule.

That I'll never stress.

That I'll be distracted less and present more, lest I miss out on the magic just beyond my window.

I want to promise them that they'll never miss another sunset – another sky painted orange and glowing magically overhead – until they are grown.

 

Of course these are promises I'm bound to break before the week is out, but still I feel them in my soul.

And I'll work toward honoring them day after day.

Because anything that moves me from "should" and toward magic is good for us all.

 

The light on the hills never lasts.

Like most things precious the sunset is fleeting. You can drink it up now or miss it forever.

 

Last week was busy. Too busy. Our emotions were running close to the surface and small triggers were bringing out big expressions. Everyone needed a quiet day at home, some extra snuggles, and less distraction.

So we called off our plans and dragged our picnic blanket out under the trees. We lay on the grass reading books together. All day long.

It was bliss.

It was medicine.

 

Between chapters we would lay back and find dragons and rabbits in the clouds drifting overhead.

At noon we went inside to pack a picnic lunch and brought it back out to our blanket in the shade.

We enjoyed our day so much that the kids and I pulled out our tent and spent the night camping in the yard. Why mess with a good thing? We were loving our nest in the shade of the maple tree.

And though I'm often tired the next day after we sleep out, I'm never tired enough to wish we had stayed in.

Because summer – and childhood – is brief.

 

So instead of chasing an arbitrary number on the clock we chased fireflies, unconscious of the hour. Instead of hurrying through our pre-bed routine we danced in the darkness to the night music of frogs, insects, and birds; told stories; and laughed beneath the stars. 

And then I remembered that it had been a big week. We all needed rest.

So we tucked into our sleeping bags and lay down for bed.

And then – as if on cue – four silent, flickering paper lanters rose magically from behind the trees, drifting toward the stars from a neighboring farm.

Fireflies, stars, night music, and glowing lanterns. Magic beyond measure.

 

We fell asleep late but woke feeling connected to the earth and each other. We were rested and brimming with magic and joy.

Should we have gotten to bed on time? I think not.

Because this we will remember always.

Not a blow-out vacation or exciting trip to a theme park.

Nothing boughten or contrived.

 

Just fireflies. A tent. And the stars.

 

Simple, home-grown magic.

Presence.

Connection.

And freedom from "should".

 

I am remided again of how brief this moment is.

This sunset, this summer, this childhood.

 

And I am humbled and thankful to bear witness to the beauty and magic of it all.

 

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Edited to add:

As I re-read today's post I reflected on how for different personalities "should" has very different meanings.

For me it might be about following the rules (self imposed or societal).

For you "should" might be about playing make-believe with your kids or sleeping out in the yard. Or it might be about walking away from your career to mother full time.

My words today are about presence – not the specifics of how to parent.

I urge each of you to honor your truths, your spirit, and your soul's needs.

Not mine, your mom's, or your neighbors. Only your own.

And in the space you create find presence for the things that matter most. To you.

Because therein lies a life of meaning and joy.

 

Love,
Rachel

Attitude adjustment

Attitude adjustment. Finding joy once more. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

I have favorite a memory that I will always carry with me.

It involves a cranky husband, a colicky newborn, and a super soaker.

I was cradling Sage, just weeks old, in my arms. Pete and I were both grumpy.

Okay, mostly Pete this time but that's not to say I wasn't having my share of hard days. I'm pretty sure I was in charge of the bad attitude department in our family in those days.

Overwhelmed and exhausted, we had been living in a joyless haze since the shine had wore off of our colicky newborn.

No one tells you it can be like this. But it can. And for us it very much was. It has been a rough day, a rough month, a rough 'welcome to parenthood!' phase.

And while Pete was normally the one to hold it together, he was fried.

I was, too.

I was done. Done with feeling wrung out and exhausted, done with the anxiety, done with us moping around in an endless funk. I was done with the dark cloud that had taken up residence over our normally joyful, nonsense-filled, playful home.

And I was done at this particular moment with his bad day.

 

I went to the basement to wash the diapers.

And then I saw it. A gigantic water gun that Pete had owned since before we met. Laying there on the basement floor. A super soaker. Just waiting for me.

Despite my pacifist tendencies, I saw my opportunity and I seized it.

Laughing quietly to myself I took the gun to the laundry sink. Jostling my baby from hip to hip, I filled the reservoir as quietly as I could. And then, on tiptoe, I ascended the stairs.

 

It's really hard to pump a super soaker with a baby in your arms while sneaking up the steps.

But I managed.

 

As I rounded the corner into the living room Pete heard it. Through his grouchy fog he picked out the telltale "squeeeeeek, squeeeeeek, squeeeeeek" that only means one thing: some is getting ready to unload a liter of ice water on you.

As I rounded the corner into the living room I heard a muttered, "Oh s**t." and then the screen door banging shut as he fled.

With a baby in one arm and a water gun in the other I took off after him.

"You need an attitude adjustment!" I yelled as we rounded the corner into the backyard. We were both laughing so hard we could barely breathe.

And as I unloaded that water gun full of cold water onto his back as he ran across the yard we laughed – harder than we'd laughed in weeks. We collapsed with laughter, our arguments and exhaustion and darkness forgotten.

The dark cloud that seemed so permanent a moment before had dispersed and we found ourselves again, there on the grass, soaking wet and laughing.

Play. It saved us.

Attitude adjustment. Finding joy once more. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

Yesterday was full of parallels – except that my baby is not a baby anymore.

After a few hard parenting days I made a conscious choice to connect and laugh and play with my kid. We both needed it desperately. Our attitudes were out of shape and only play could save us.

How often do we play with our children when they are small? Constantly. But what about when they are older? Not as much as they might need it. Not as much as we might need it.

Not enough.

And I realized yesterday that my son and I need to share more joy these days.

Today more now than ever before.

And not our usual quiet sort of play – chess or projects or a walk to the creek – but an all-out no holds barred water gun war. (Even if I am still a pacifist.)

No, he certainly does not fit under my arm anymore, nor can I carry him and run. I'm not even sure I can lift him these days (though I do know he can lift me).

My son is turning thirteen in a few weeks. We're all getting older. Life is unfolding, just like that – poof! Time races on.

And yet the need remains. For connection, for play, for joy.

 

And yesterday we desperately needed an attitude adjustment.

I needed an attitude adjustment.

 

Because the truth is I keep re-reading my Peaceful Parenting your Teen blog post. I need it right now. It's a living work to connect when I could correct, to listen, to empower, to trust and open my heart.

And I want to offer my child ten opportunities for connection for every correction, yet more often than not I flip that equation on it's head.

 

Every chapter of parenting has come with abundant lessons. When to run to my child and when to hang back. When to trust and when to intervene. When to pull them in and when to urge them outward, into the big and beautiful world.

Which brings us racing fast-forward to today and soon to tomorrow. We're thirteen years in. It's happening, friends.

There's no time to waste.

 

So we grabbed some water guns and ran and yelled and screamed and pummeled each other until we were laughing so hard we could scarcely breathe.

We played. And another memory was born that I am sure to carry with me forever.

Because of this guy.

This guy! I can honestly say that since the day he was born he's been the greatest teacher I could ever have asked for.

And it doesn't look like that will change any time soon.

 

Thankfully, my attitude has been adjusted.

Again.

 

Attitude adjustment. Finding joy once more. www.lusaorganics.typepad.com

 

 

Blueberry crisp for dinner (recipe!)

Blueberry crisp for dinner (GF/DF/EF recipe included)

Blueberry crisp for dinner (GF/DF/EF recipe included)

Blueberry crisp for dinner (GF/DF/EF recipe included)

Blueberry crisp for dinner (GF/DF/EF recipe included)

Blueberry crisp for dinner (GF/DF/EF recipe included)

Blueberry crisp for dinner (GF/DF/EF recipe included)

Blueberry crisp for dinner (GF/DF/EF recipe included)

Blueberry crisp for dinner (GF/DF/EF recipe included)

Blueberry crisp for dinner (GF/DF/EF recipe included)

Blueberry crisp for dinner (GF/DF/EF recipe included)

This weekend we made our annual pilgrimage to the non-spray blueberry farm 1 1/2 hours from home.

Each time we make the long drive there I put "grow blueberries" (with lots of asterisks in front) on my farm to-do list. But then each year (like the one before) mid-summer rolls around again and with no blueberry bushes at home, we set out once more.

This time my mom went with us and braved the 90 F day to pick berries with the kids and I for a couple of hours. We came home hot and tired, but with thirty-some pounds of berries to eat, jam, and freeze.

I even managed to keep all of my "kerplink, kerplank, kerplunks" inside while my almost teenager picked once more into a small tin pail.

(You're welcome, Sage.)

But the best part came when we got home.

Back in the kitchen, we did what we always do after picking: we made a fruit crisp for dinner.

Blueberry crisp for dinner (GF/DF/EF recipe included)

It's our tradition. Every time we go fruit picking we have crisp (or cobbler or crumble, depending on where you hail from) for dinner.

No meat, no veggies – just dessert. These small but significant traditions are the things I hope they remember.

I know that I will.

Blueberry Crisp Recipe (EF/DF/GF/Vegan)

Ingredients
Fruit Layer
  • 5 C fresh or frozen blueberries
  • 1/2 to 3/4 C maple syrup, depending on tartness of your blueberry variety
  • 2 Tbsp tapioca flour
  • 2 tsp vanilla
  • 2 tsp grated fresh ginger root (optional)

Crisp Topping

  • 1/2 C coconut sugar
  • 1/3 cup tapioca flour
  • 1 1/4 cup gluten free oats or chopped nuts
  • 1/2 cup almond flour
  • pinch salt
  • 1/2 cup melted coconut oil

Process

Preheat oven to 350 F.

Generously butter a 9×13 baking pan.

Combine all fruit layer ingredients in a large bowl.

Taste for sweetness then transfer to prepared baking pan.

Combine topping ingredients and crumble over berries.

Bake for 55 minutes or until topping has become a lovely and toasty brown.

 Top with sour cream, yogurt, coconut yogurt, or vanilla ice cream (recipe here for a great, simple, homemade vanilla). So good.

 

You can find my other blueberry recipes through the links below!

Blueberry Buttermilk Ice Cream

Blueberry Jam (three ways)

 

Triage: yes to shortcake, no to laundry

Life is triage (yes to shortcake, no to laundry)

Life is triage (yes to shortcake, no to laundry)

Life is triage (yes to shortcake, no to laundry)

Life is triage (yes to shortcake, no to laundry)

Life is triage (yes to shortcake, no to laundry)

Life is triage (yes to shortcake, no to laundry)

Life is triage (yes to shortcake, no to laundry)

Life is triage (yes to shortcake, no to laundry)

Life is triage (yes to shortcake, no to laundry)

Life is triage (yes to shortcake, no to laundry)

Life is triage (yes to shortcake, no to laundry)

DSC_7831

Last night we moved the goats to a new pasture. They promptly got into a can of chicken feed I had foolishly neglected to move, spinning us into an evening devoted to researching bloat, enterotoxemia and how to deal with both.

We were in and out of the house all night giving remedies, massaging rumens, and leading them on burpy walks up and down the driveway.

Good times.

This morning everyone seems fine, thank goodness. Our house on the other hands looks like a tornado hit.

And I realized – that in homesteading or parenting or small business or simply existing – life is triage.

Every time we say yes to something we say no to something else.

 

Yes to goat research, no to housekeeping.

 

Earlier this week I said yes to strawberry picking and shortcake making and no to laundry and a proper dinner.

June berries won't last. And the laundry will never really be done (unless everyone is naked).

And despite waking to four baskets of laundry to fold, I'm certain I made the right choice.

 

Yesterday Pete returned home from a week away. It was a long week involving me dosing remedies to a sick goat when he left, a sick cat when he returned, and juggling earaches and tummy aches and sore throats of the human sort on and off throughout his absence.

So much triage.

The house and farm were disastrous, and there was a lot of catching up to do.

I could see his to-do list reflected in his eyes when Lupine ran to him and asked, "Will you jump with me on the trampoline?"

 

He paused, the put down his shovel and said a tentative yes. Yes to jumping, no to digging.

Just for a moment.

 

Triage.

 

And after they jumped for a few minutes her cup was full of Papa, his heart was full of laughter, and it was time to say yes to chores – and no to play – once more.

 

As for me, I'm gettting caught up on the laundry and on emails today. Tomorrow the kitchen may or may not get a scrubbing. But I'll also be putting down my work for a walk to the creek at dusk, to knit a row, to play a game, or simply listen to what my family has to say.

 

Triage.

This, not this.

One yes, one no.

 

What will you say yes to today?