Dear Anonymous

Dear Anonymous, I appreciate your comment yesterday. These experiences give me the opportunity to reflect and confirm or reflect and alter my parenting beliefs. I hope this doesn't come across as defensive, but well, I do have very strong beliefs about what you wrote. I think we are simply coming from differing premises.

"It just seems that if he knows that he doesn't have to [do] anything really hard for him, he won't experience that pride that comes from accomplishing something really difficult."

I agree that effort is so important. But I find that life is naturally full of these situations. He mastered crawling, walking, signing, talking, riding a bike, memorizing books, playing drums...see where I'm going with this? So I don't see the need to keep him in a situation that isn't making him happy for the chance to teach him to work hard when he doesn't need the lesson.

I believe that the real opportunities for having these experiences of challenge and accomplishment lie in the goals he makes for himself. For example, he's really swimming, and it is obviously very difficult for him to pull himself him up for air, he swallows water, struggles so hard, and immediately says, "Do it again!". He all of a sudden wants to swim, he's chosen this goal for himself and is working to the ends of his abilities over and over again.

It is through these 1000s of authentic experiences of struggling for what he wants to accomplish that he will build up the character trait of perseverance. As he matures, he will see our model of working through difficulties for the benefit of others and will find value and pleasure in that as well.

I chose school for him. And while I hoped he'd enjoy it and grow from it, I chose it so that I'd have time to exercise. This isn't his goal to go to school. My goal is to exercise and I can find other solutions that aren't so stressful for him, meeting all of our needs.

"...he's a three year-old who lives in the moment, as they all do, and can't have the perspective that you have to know that even though it's hard today, it will get better and more familiar with time."

He is three. He doesn't know the future. But neither do I. I don't know that it will get better for him, though I think it probably would. I do know how he's feeling now though. I believe in living in the now as much as possible. I believe in respecting others feelings. And these are how I want him to see us living our lives.

I have more to write, more to celebrate, but life calls...

Schooling Experiment Finished

I'll write more about this later, but I decided to withdraw Bowie from school. He has not wanted to attend for 2 weeks now and has been exhibiting a lot of anxiety (had to call me after he was crying for over an hour the last time he attended). Today he said that he never wanted to go back and with all the signs and those very clear words, I felt it was not in his best interest to continue. He happily went to the nursery at the YMCA and I'll be advertising for babysitters to find a better solution for all of us.

Splash!

Summer. Still summer. We often have Friday night dinner at Mandola's followed with (or sometimes preceded by) a romp in the Triangle's dancing fountains. I bring extra underwear and just let Bowie at it. Last night we stood in front of the gelato counter after our meal but Bowie amazingly opted to hurry on to the fountain! What fun.

Yogurt Pops

Plain yogurt, honey, frozen mixed berries, orange juice in the blender and YUM!

Falling In Love Again

It's like he's my new baby again. I can't stop looking at him, like when I held him all curled up arms for 20 hours a day. To me, he looks younger. I see him as 1 again, when his hair was a bit like this. But he is my mature boy who asked me this morning if I was sad and said, "I want you to be happy about this." while touching my shoulder gently.

Oh.

And i am truly happy for him. And falling in love all over again.

Cut From Him

on his swaddling blanket
his baby hair
i keep them
and let go of him

he is becoming
his own

Remembrance

Now I'm crying. I held it together all along (except for the slightly sick feeling in my gut). But now, alone, looking at this ponytail of Bowie's baby hair...golden, soft and fine, it's been with him through all his life and now it is cut from him. I will keep it to stroke and hold myself. My boy. My baby.

About a month ago, Bowie started saying that he wanted to cut his hair short. Shave it like his papa's. I said that if he still felt that way after we came back from vacation that we'd do it. It's his hair. He should choose. I have a friend that dated a young man who kept his hair very short and didn't want anyone to touch it because his hair as a boy had been long and curly and he hated the attention. I always thought of this when *my* desire to keep it long butted against Bowie's wishes to cut it. Well, he didn't mention it again until a few days ago. We've been swimming alot (REALLY swimming ya'll, more about that later) and I think it's really been bugging him that his whole face would get covered by his hair. So we went to Cool Cuts for Kids, showed them an adorable skaterdude haircut that Bowie and I both liked and he ended up with this conservative cut. Next time I'll be more of a bear and make sure we get what we want, but I just wanted it to be as easy as possible for him and he was an ANGEL. What a big boy. Truly.

Simply Watermelon

Oh, he loves it. 3 slices.

Unsanitized

We go to the dog park and play. We wade in the creek, hunt for fossils, pet the dogs, climb the hills, dig through sticks, find broken and dirty glasses and wear them. I am not a Purell carrying member of mamahood. We dig in, get dirty, and sometimes we wash our hands but only if we are filthy. And I stand by it. Bowie hasn't been sick since Christmas. Of course that means that we've got a cold coming, especially now that he's going to school a couple afternoons. But I also am a believer that a few colds are natural and overall beneficial, though sad and inconvenient. So we'll continue to dig in.

Sun Mask

Hurray! Another happy goodbye at school this afternoon. Last night Chris and I talked and talked about what our strategy would be if he didn't want to go today. And it was easy peasy! Leaving the house he did grumble, but I am finding that it is leaving his home that is hard for him. We ran some errands and ate lunch at Mr. Natural and he easily moved on from there.

When I returned from my gloriously long and relaxed workout, he ran right away to show me the mask he made with his teacher Richard. Masks are a sure way to his heart. He's worn it all the way home, all evening (except at the dinner table). So thrilled that he's doing things that he loves there.

The Sky is NOT Falling

Well, I tried to post from my phone at the Y yesterday but I see it didn't work. Yes, from the Y. Bowie went willingly and happily to school yesterday! You know how horrible and awful transition in birth can feel? But that means that you are almost done, the worst is over. I have seen that in our family life too. It's the surrender and trust that have gotten me through all of those hard times. And got me through this hard time too.

I let go of the idea that Bowie's going to school would be the solution to giving me time I needed for myself. I decided that if it didn't work out, we'd find another solution. Tuesday and Wednesday Bowie stayed at the YMCA nursery while I worked out. It wasn't the 3 hours long cardio, strength, sauna and shower I've been dreaming about but it was an hour on the elliptical walker reading and listening to my ipod. It helped immensely.

I also stopped talking up going to school. Barely mentioned it. I realized that it must have been coming across as a really big deal. Almost everyone he knew asked him about it, we were having conversations in an effort to prepare him, and I think that just made it feel like a really big deal. So I decided to try to minimize it.

We left the house on Thursday with other fun things to do on the way to school. We went to the library and had lunch together at a restaurant. I think this distracted him a bit and it was easier to move on when we were already on the move. He did say before we left the house, "I don't think today is really a good day for school." and I said that we weren't going there right now and that we'd see how he felt later. Not another word of concern or hesitation came.

And I think letting him say no was important. When there has been any element of pushing from us (sleep, potty, food...you know all those issues that are so easy to get into struggles), Bowie has resisted. Luckily we have been very conscious about stepping back and giving him his power back when we realized that we were pushing, and almost immediately we see him make great strides in those areas on his own. Trust. Trust. Trust.

I am sure that he will have other vulnerable days. But we got through the first week. I got clear about what I need, he saw how much I need it, we found ways to meet that need, and he did have fun at school in the end. Maybe he'll say he doesn't want to go again. I'm sure he will. But it won't feel like the sky is falling.

Unprepared

I feel so unprepared for this. Today Bowie made it clear that he did not want to go to school. He woke crying this morning. When it was time to get ready, he made no excuses about being tired but cried and cried and said he did not want to go. He says that maybe he'll want to go tomorrow.

I told him that I wanted to go take care of myself, that I needed to go to the Y and exercise. I suggested that he go to the kid's room at the Y. "But I choose to stay home." I've been crying for the past few hours. It feels like he doesn't care about me. I feel hurt and angry about that. And I also feel stupidly oversensitive and with completely unrealistic expectations. I mean developmentally he's barely aware that the world is bigger than himself, right? I also feel like I must have messed up, am messing up, because most kids DO go to school.

And then the unschooling part of myself feels quite guilty that I would ask my child to go to school when he doesn't want to go. I called my husband to check to see if he too would have not pushed him into the car and he agreed. So I feel guilty about all the crying. Isn't that a kind of pressure put on him?

I have this twisted desire to do nothing fun this afternoon. I don't want it to be more fun to stay home. I feel sick to write that. Thank goodness I write to bring out these ugly truths. Somehow I can think that and sort of ignore how vile that sounds, but writing it makes it so clear. OF COURSE I want home to be fun. Of course I don't want to punish him for not wanting to go to school.

But I do want to go work out. I really do. I need it so bad. I've been waiting and waiting, telling myself that these times will be short, that I will have time to do for myself again. But I'm feeling at the end of my rope. How can I make it happen?

Will he want to go back to school again? How can I talk about it without pressuring him? How will he know if he likes it if he doesn't go? Maybe if I suggest that I go with him again, like the visits?

Yikes....this is surely the most raw and rambling entry I've made. Yes, I am a very real and flawed mama.

Update: I typed that on the laptop sitting on the toilet lid while Bowie played it the bath. I told him that I still needed to go exercise and that I was mad that he didn't make a choice so that I could take care of myself. He said, "Okay. I choose the Y." So, we're off! Clarity is so good for us all.

Update #2: Thank you Elle and Sara for your thoughts and love. I am thinking about how to get more of my unschooling mind into this problem and because I really do think that is the most creative and respectful way to find a solution. Identify the problem: it is NOT that Bowie didn't want to go to school. I am truly okay if he does not want to go. I don't believe that he needs to go. But I do believe that I need to work out and have a little scheduled time for myself. So there's where the creativity comes in. He happily said goodbye at the Y. I don't know why he was okay with that rather than school, but he was. While I was huffing along on the elliptical walker, I realized that I NEED this and that means that I need to make it happen more often, perhaps even daily. This needs to be part of my identity, my daily routine. And I need to find a solution that doesn't ask too much of Bowie to make it possible. He's still saying that he'll go to school tomorrow, even though tomorrow isn't a school day for him. But I hope to get back to the Y tomorrow...

And The 1st Day Update

Not another tear was shed. Happy boy that didn't want to leave. So relieved! But I guess I should be prepared for another tearful drop off...just in case.

The First Day of School

It was surprisingly tearful. During our drive to school where Bowie will be going two afternoons a week, Bowie started saying that he was too tired to go (another student had cried about being too tired when we visited on Tuesday). And then he said that he would get lost if I wasn't with him. That he would walk home. That he would not go to school.

And I was floored. He had shown not even a sliver of fear or concern over the past few weeks of preparing. Perhaps I had talked it up too much...maybe if I hadn't described the dropping off moment repeatedly...maybe if I hadn't asked him if he'd be sad or scared...did I put those feelings into him?

I carried and held him for 30 minutes. Children asked why he was crying. Offered to play with him. He buried his face in my chest with his hands covering his eyes. He calmed down to quiet reluctance, and I walked off the deck in his sight. His new teacher came up behind him, pulled him into her lap and talked to him for a moment about the fun things she had seen him do when he visited while two boys his age stood nearby. A moment later he was headed towards the bikes and cars with his friends, and I hesitantly interrupted his adventure to say goodbye and I love you.

Then I cried for 20 minutes in the car. Called my husband to have someone to cry to. As a teacher, I remember all the advice we were instructed to give to parents during these drop offs. Just say goodbye...they'll be okay soon...but as a parent, I am not willing to just drop him off on his first day. This experience is only welcome in our family if he wants it. And I want to be as available to him as possible until he has really had a chance to know if he wants to be there. He's been so proud and happy about being a Rainbow. But being dropped off is a different thing. I get that. And I think he'll probably adjust quite well, so I just want to give him a chance to adjust.

My crazy mama thoughts as I post from the local YMCA after working out...

I was kicking myself for not bring the camera, but that would NOT have worked out at all!

Play

I make peace with it every day. It looks scary and wrong. It is not the cute lovey that is so easy to love. It is his own exploration of power and strength, life and death. It is his raw real self that is so easy to love when I see that it is always still my lovey there, behind that harmless water pistol.

He tells me, "Mama, I love you even when I play fight. I love you even when I pretend kill."

My To-Do List

at the Getty Museum

*reflect on the trip Bowie and I just courageously and insanely made. We flew to LA to visit with friends and photographers who became friends. We drove through San Francisco, the redwood forest, along the Oregon coast to Eugene for the Oregon County Fair. And had to give up on a camping trip with friends due to utter and total exhaustion and homesickness. So finished with a few days in lovely Portland. I'm tired again just writing it. But it was an adventure. We did it with more grace than less, I hope. Bowie amazed me. I amazed myself. By the end my patience and creativity were worn thin. What a test! But worth doing. Just wish Chris had been with us. Or we hadn't been gone so long. More reflecting to do...

*reflect on the first day of school for Bowie. We went for Bowie's first visit to the little Waldorf school he will start at soon. A couple of nights before Chris and I couldn't sleep with all of our questions and worries...first day of school jitters. Chris wondered if they'd let him paint himself. I wondered how his love of weaponry and play fighting would show itself. And although it will only be 7 hours a week, a couple of afternoons, we wondered how this would fit into our "unschooling" lifestyle. Well, Bowie loved his visit. Stayed for the entire afternoon. I still have many questions. But whether he will enjoy it, I have few doubts.

*watercolor
*laundry
*work out
*blog more

Back from the Beaches

Bowie and I went on a crazy mama/son vacation for 2 weeks to the west coast and returned mid week. Just beginning to recover. I slept until 11 today. Last night was Bowie's first full night's sleep since we left home. He hugged and said, "I love you Papa" constantly for the first hour they were together. I didn't get to be photographer as much as I had hoped. Being Mama all the time was hard. I am lucky that I am able to rely so much on Chris usually. But I had to be it all. We am amazed and proud that we did it and we'll do it again, but not 2 weeks! More to come, but I need to go sit on the couch with my boys.

Pistol and Sword

Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats. - H.L. Mencken


So if you've been reading my blog or spent anytime with Bowie, you will know that he is currently obsessed with swords. He has two* and is almost always holding one (he leaves it in the car at most public places, though). He talks about them all day. And makes any object of length a sword as well. He's SO into weapons. I think about this a lot, with sword poked at me, gun shooting at me. I make peace with it everyday. Because I can see that his soul is more pure than mine, that he does not need to be taught how to be good. I no longer confuse his talk about killing as any sign of his character. It is an exploration of some of the greatest issues of people and society. The other day he saw a flashing and noise making set of pirate sword and pistol. And he so, so wanted it. He sat in the aisle of the drugstore and pushed the activating buttons over and over again.

The sound is grating to my soul. It is so hard for me to hear it. But there is also a part of me that has grown to love his pretend play. He loves to dress up. He practices moving gracefully with his weapons. We have all started to engage in pretend fighting, which I could not have imagined myself doing or enjoying a year ago. And the night before we watched the new live action Peter Pan movie (which seems wonderfully faithful to the book, though we're only a couple of chapters into it). So the idea of introducing the pirate to our band of characters appealed to me.

As a photographer, I loved the idea of the images these would make. So I made a deal. I offered Bowie his first paying gig as my model. As he gets older I really look forward to our collaboration in photography. He knows that he can help me do something I really love. And we do things that he has fun doing. I have written about how photography is part of how I practice observant guidance in my parenting. But it also is part of the way I show reverence for Bowie. And it is part of my meditation in unconditional joy and love, which the unschooling philosophy has helped me experience more deeply by helping me shed so many fears. When I look at Bowie through the lens, I am seeing him so clearly and without distraction. When I look through these photos again to edit them, I see things I didn't notice before and I know more about my son and experience such a strong sense of gratitude. It repairs my pistol scratched soul.

*now three swords, one pistol, one fazer, and one lightsaber...on to star wars now, must make jedi cloaks

Farmer's Market

A glorious day, but now pouring rain. This has been an amazingly mild spring and summer so far. Very wet. Which is oh so good for this land that usually is in drought and 100+ temperatures by early May. We've been spending a lot of time indoors, more from the mosquitoes that are thriving in this wetness, than the actual wetness itself.

But today we spent the later afternoon at our local farmer's market. Bowie immediately stripped down to his green undies and brand new dancing skeleton Vans to participate in the mass enjoyment of the dancing fountain. I must, must return there with him some evening and take photos. The kids had a blast chasing the water, trying to predict when the spouts would shoot, positioning themselves just so in the arch of the sprays. People, all kinds of people, sat around and watched the children play. It was clearly a place of joy for everyone. After 2 hours of this, we went over to the stage to enjoy some live music. Bowie laid down on his tummy, chin in hands, front row and watched the band for about 6 songs. Then he took off into the large yard and attached himself to a group of older kids, joining in on their goal of filling a grate with gravel from the walking paths. I sat 100s of feet away and watched from afar. I never took my eyes off of him. I saw that he was having his own experience, one that I can guess at but that I do not share with him. It was sad and wonderful. His world is bigger than me now. It is a loss for me. But the gain is so amazing; he is knowing and trusting himself, seeking out people all around him.

He had 3 or 4 involved conversations with adult strangers. He initiated all of them. He offered them food, showed them his new shoes, and smiled the most heart meltingly charming smiles. Even kissed some of them. This usually is received with delighted perplexed expressions. It’s sweet. (Sometimes he is greeted with annoyance and discomfort, though.) I think it’s wonderful that he still trusts the world. I watch over him like a hawk, my mother’s anxieties undeniable. But watching him in his confidence also sets me at peace with the world. Most people will respond to true interaction with kindness. And that’s too good too miss out on.

We were quite almost the last people at the market, the tents were gone, the fountain danced only with itself, the stage was silent, the bocce ball players had ridden off on their bikes, and the clouds were rolling in. I wished I had my camera. The pink, grey, blue, white, black…Bowie, still in only his undies and shoes, could not bear to leave. He’d been rolling in the grass, carrying rocks against his belly, skimming over brick walls (belly scratched), and he couldn’t be happier as Chris and I commented that everything he was doing looked so utterly uncomfortable. But he chose the fun. Because that’s too good to miss out on. Hmmm, I think I’ve realized my lesson from Bowie today. Notice and enjoy the things that are too good to miss out on.

Like the farmer's market.

In His Genes

I love that my father in law took a soaked rainy walk and my mother in law happily painted Bowie's arms for him. He started off on himself, but soon enjoyed asking Grandma to give him polka dots and then rubbing them him. They had so much fun together. We went swimming, to the park and toy store. And she played played played. She was asked to say what Tuba, our dog, says at least 300 times in a row at dinner last night. And she answered everytime with a grin, though sometimes a weary one.

Every summer, after her schoolyear of teaching 5th graders, Chris's mom spends a few days with us before going on her vacations...this year Lake Tahoe, Hong Kong, Thailand, and home to Illinois, and camping in the New Mexico mountains. Isn't that amazing? We have a fantastic collection of postcards we receive from all of her adventures.

Bowie is blessed to have such fun and loving grandparents. My parents live near us and Bowie spends the night with them so happily and expectantly. He loves to ride on his Gramps' riding lawnmower and cook with Nonnie. It is so wonderful to see him at such ease with the other important people in his life. It makes me love my folks in a new way.