Category: Chores
Thursday, Mar 24, 2011 | Chores, Kids, Photos, Play |
Two days ago, it was grey and cool and mild. All of this snow fell within about 18 hours yesterday.
The older children apparently took my chat about responsibility to heart. Inspired by a specific garbage-dropping incident two days ago, I took the opportunity of all of us gathered for supper to explain that while I, as their mother, am happy to be responsible for many things, including feeding them and washing and folding their laundry, there were other things that were their responsibility. And then I threw the ball into their court: could they think of anything that was their responsibility more than mine? Albus instantly thought of cleaning up the water he always spills when getting himself a drink. AppleApple thought she could take her plate to the counter and scrape food into the compost. Socks in laundry basket, not chucked across the room. Banana peels composted rather than left on a bedroom floor to rot. Basic stuff, but helpful. (These supper conversations are our new version of family meetings–spontaneous topical conversations). Sometimes I feel like I’m talking to myself (though not always), but I do believe strongly that the kids are listening. Spontaneously, yesterday evening, Albus decided that shovelling the walk was something he could take some responsibility for. This morning, I found them outside early, both hard at work with school bags on backs.
These are some of CJs favourite toys: Albus’s go-gos. Every single time CJ wants to play with them, he asks first: “It okay I play with Albus’s go-gos?” And every single time, I say yes, or Albus does. But he still asks the next time. Which is a good general policy, I think. Shows good little brother instincts.
Fooey is on a photo album binge this morning. In this one, Albus is a two-year-old watching Winnie the Pooh on our old, tiny tv, and AppleApple is a baby. I actually said to Fooey, hey, that’s you! Before realizing it was my other red-headed baby girl. When they were babies, they all looked perfectly unique to my eye, but now that they’ve grown out of babyhood, I find myself looking for other cues–what era was this? where were we living?–to identify them in photos.
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No photos of me. The eye woes continue, despite antibiotics–oral and drops–hot compresses, and following all of the dr’s instructions on care. All I can cautiously say right now is that they don’t seem to be getting any worse. But they’re not getting better either.
Wednesday, Nov 3, 2010 | Chores, Music, Organizing, Yoga |
It’s a blessing, not a burden, to be this busy.
Yes, I sometimes feel overwhelmed. Yes, my life is written out in point form in advance. No, I don’t always feel like doing what I’ve planned for myself. But it’s amazing what can be squeezed into one day, what can fit.
Today, for example: breakfast, big kids out the door, swim lessons with little kids, home to start laundry, walk to a friend’s house, play, home for lunch, prepare supper, listen to podcast on CBC radio on beauty (“beauty will save the world“), plan via email a talk I’m preparing to give on Sunday about being a “Mennonite” writer (quotation marks necessary?), walk to school to get kids, bring friends home, trade off parenting duties with Kev, walk briskly to yoga, 90-minute yoga class, walk briskly home, blissed out and thinking semi-deep thoughts, eat leftovers, listen to kids play drums and guitar, tag-team the dishes with Kev, head out with sibs for a drink, walk briskly home, chat with Kev before trading off as on-call parent, watch video of beautiful youngest singing along to the Cranberries, plan tomorrow’s crock-pot supper, write blog. There’s still time for a small snack before bed.
Taken from the radio program (Tapestry): when you embrace beauty–the beautiful, the moment of grace–you accept that it will pass, that you can’t keep it. What is beauty? Goodness, kindness, compassion, acts of selfless impulsive grace.
Friday, Oct 29, 2010 | Chores, Lists, Organizing, Yoga |
Scheduling: it’s a love/hate relationship. I am definitely of an organized mind, and enjoy figuring out how to make things fit together and become orderly and sensical. Which is apparently not a word, but it should be; as in, the opposite of nonsensical. Oh dear. Three sentences in and already off-track. Where was I? Loving to schedule … but resenting having to do it in order to have a life; resenting the ongoing, neverending obligation to schedule. And coming around to acceptance, because that’s a good place to come around to.
Monday morning, I went for a run, then spent the remaining two child-free hours of the day working out the week’s schedule, which I hadn’t had time to do on the weekend, with Kevin working, and just general exhaustion. I like to sketch out an idea for suppers every day of the week, preferably related to the veggies lurking in my fridge and cold cellar the existence of which I’m otherwise likely to forget. This also prevents the panic of not knowing what the heck to make for supper an hour before supper’s due to be eaten by six hungry and opinionated people.
But I also schedule out absolutely everything else, coordinating with Kevin, most closely, and with a variety of other people (the parents of my kids’ friends; music teachers; grandparents; friends; health practitioners; essentially, anyone else we’re planning to see or want to spend time with during the week).
I think of myself as our family’s call centre. Got a problem–emotional, practical, menial, existential? I’m the one you’re going to call, the 9-1-1 operator. I’m also the first responder, the triage nurse, the doctor/psychiatrist/janitor/repair-person/garbage collector. And I do out-patient and follow-up work, too.
I’ve figured out that this means if I’m going to get time to myself, to recuperate, to prevent meltdown (ie. mine), I’ve got to schedule, in advance, off-call time, time alone.
Every day is broken into pockets of time, each with the potential to be used for something. I am often amazed at how much, and what a variety of activities, can fit. However, the advance plan doesn’t always pan out. Sometimes my energy can’t keep up with my appetite.
For example, on Tuesday, I’d maneuvered time off between after-school pickup and Kevin’s late-night hockey, arranging for Kevin to do after-school care, serve supper, do dishes, and bedtime (yes, it’s a lot!), so that I could go to a yoga class and then on to a reading: Annabel Lyon, Alyssa York, and Sandra Birdsell were all in town. But after a full day that included early rising, swim lessons (getting in the pool with CJ), friends over, baking, and cooking, I had just enough energy to drag myself to yoga. Having survived ninety sweaty minutes of exertion, I exited into a damp dark evening, hungry (because I’d gone over supper hour), bone-tired, and feeling chilled … so I went home instead. I knew I’d be up very early the next morning to run with a friend. And there’s only so much of me available for use.
So Tuesday night, post-kids’-bedtime, I went to bed with a pot of tea and watched reality tv on the internet. I won’t even try to explain it. But it works for me. Sometimes better than anything else. (And, no, I hadn’t scheduled it in, nor do I plan to. Some things are best left to impulse, as needed).
Saturday, Oct 23, 2010 | Books, Chores, Kids |
I think the last post, with its negative angle, may have unfairly represented my kids as constant complainers. Contrary to how it may occasionally feel (to their mother), they do not always complain. It’s just that when the complaining happens, I’m the one who (mostly) receives it. In fact, I’m pretty sure my kids fall into the normal category of sometimes energetic, sometimes bored, sometimes tired, sometimes grumpy, and mostly content.
When I asked Albus about his response to the mac & cheese meal, he was baffled: “I did really like it!” he insisted. He remembered being upset with his dad for not dishing out a fifth helping. So maybe I misinterpreted his “Bad!” comment. Maybe he considered the meal bad because it was so good that he was mad not be eating himself sick.
In any case, we had the loveliest after-school time yesterday. We were all so tired after a full week that when we walked through the door, we just crashed out together in the living-room. (AppleApple was at a friend’s house). Albus read a Lego book that had arrived from his Scholastic order (I’ve agreed to pay for one purchase of less than $10 each order, and if they want something more expensive they chip in the difference). Fooey hung out inside the coffee table (it has two lids that lift off, and we store a bunch of toys underneath; optionally, dump the toys out and it’s a cozy seating area … if one is less than four feet tall). And CJ crawled into my lap and lay on me quietly while I read a magazine. It was forty-five minutes of calm togetherness. I so rarely sit down and join in the vegging out. I think it recharged my batteries–not sure without it that I could have managed buying club pick-up (with the two youngest in tow), supper and clean-up on my own (Kevin took Albus soccer skills), and a post-kids’-bedtime beer with a friend to cap off the evening.
So here’s to vegetating (she says, in between cleaning out the basement shoe/boot collection, vacuuming the main floor, and dragging the kids to the library/grocery store).
Tuesday, Sep 28, 2010 | Chores, Cooking, Kids |
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| Wish I were sleeping like that right now … |
Sunday. I don’t get on the computer with the new Sunday day of rest plan. Or not quite so much. In any case, certainly not enough to blog. Yesterday, we went to my mom’s church and I groused about being stuck in the nursery the entire time, though at least the service is piped in and CJ gets a kick out of the toys. That sums up my church-going experience for the past nine years. Everyone is very friendly and child-positive at the church, but, really, do you want your kids screaming at each other in the pew over a bag of crayons?
I also read at Word on the Street, and that was lovely. We didn’t get home till about 3:30. Then it was time to do homework with Albus in the office. Give him a piece of gum, and he’s good for an hour of hard work. I’ve been impressed by his dedication. It helped to offer computer time on the far end of the study session. Yesterday morning, he declared that this was “the worst day ever!” (He was especially peeved about having to go to my stupid “art” thing; though once there he was easily won over by all the free swag and treats). By yesterday evening, we heard him proclaiming it “the best day ever!” No kidding. Free candy, gum for study time, and computer play. We even practiced piano together. (Okay, that was fun for me, anyway).
Fooey cooked supper with Kevin, and she really stuck it out over the long haul. She chose from a Mexican cookbook, and the menu was completely her own. We dined on: roasted corn soup (with onions and red peppers, pureed); corn on the cob; potato/lima bean/cheese patties fried in oil (YUM!); lettuce salad with tropical fruit and lemon dressing; and for dessert, orange slices with cinnamon and chocolate sprinkles, and hot chocolate made with real chocolate. Not cooking on Sundays feels like a genuine rest for me.
And going to church changes the shape of the entire day, or perhaps more importantly changes my mental map of the day. It forces me not to plan or do much of anything. And if I were at home all morning, I would find plenty that needs doing and therefore need to do it.
Monday, Sep 20, 2010 | Chores, Cooking, Organizing, Photos, Work, Writing, Yoga |
Cooking with kids: AppleApple’s menu yesterday was vegetarian. She had a hard time narrowing down her menu choices, perhaps because I went to the library and got out some kids’ cookbooks, most featuring foods of different cultures. In the end, she made iced mint tea with mint picked from our backyard patch (not from a recipe). For the main course, she served freshly made pear/applesauce with mashed potatoes, and a Caribbean-flavoured squash soup, with a red and yellow pepper salad on the side. Dessert was canned cherries from Bailey’s and peaches canned by my mom. It was such a local meal!
Fooey’s up next weekend.
And last weekend, Albus’s German sausage hotpot did the body good.
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Day of rest, two Sundays on: all is well. With church in the morning, it’s impossible to make elaborate plans for the day, and that actually works out fabulously if one is ‘re able to let go of the idea of getting other things done. It does mean piling more into Saturday, perhaps; and I am also now planning to use my Tuesdays home with the little kids as baking days; but if the redistribution of tasks results in more days like yesterday, where I had time to play the piano, work on homework with Albus, and doze off (while trying to read a book), I’m sold.
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Also thinking about how to fit everything in, and reminding myself that a little every day adds up to a lot. As I prioritize my goals for this coming year, I think about the 365 project, and how committing to spend between 5 -30 minutes a day on that has added up to an ongoing master class in photography. The same goes for the triathlon project, which dovetails with my more general goal to be fit both mentally and physically; this morning, instead of mucking around the house this morning, I chose to go to yoga class, and not only feel stretched out and fit, but I enjoyed a burst of acute organizational powers in the forty minutes afterward, sitting in the sunshine at a picnic bench, waiting till it was time to pick up CJ from nursery school. Lots of notes were taken.
The first step to fitting everything in is to set strong priorities. And then make leaps. Put into play whatever needs to happen to make those priorities become a part of the routine. But stay flexible, because if something’s not working, you can always make changes, even drastic ones. Here’s what went onto my “fitting it all in … a little at a time” list of priorities: triathlon project (including swim lessons for me); photography; fiction writing; church; friends. (That list does not include the daily priorities of feeding and caring for my family, which kind of goes without saying, for me).
