During a recent day with my four year old, something prompted me to step back from my roles as mother and teacher and observe how he approaches life.
The day started in a familiar way. He refused to wear the cute outfit I had selected and pulled on a grubby sports t-shirt and his favorite thread-bare sweatpants that are two inches too short.
Lesson one: Don’t do something just because someone suggested you should. Make your own decision.
Later that morning we went to the clinic for an appointment. We picked out a couple books to read while we were waiting, but the doctor arrived before we had time to finish them.
After the exam, as I prepared to leave, Sam objected, “But we didn’t read the books mom.” Thoughts of “more important” things to do came to mind, and I started to say, “Yeah, I know, but now we must get going.” But I realized we could spare enough time to read those books.
So we did. Dr. Seuss’s “Happy Birthday to You,” left us both smiling and was well worth the extra 10 minutes.
Lesson two: What’s the rush? Allow yourself time for things you enjoy.
On the way home we stopped at the grocery store. Sam walked straight for the “grocery cars.” A small basket would’ve been more than enough, but I went along with his choice.
As we rolled through the aisles he hung out the window of the “grocery car” and waved his arms like he was riding along the Pacific Coast Highway in a convertible. How I longed to be with him in his imaginary place – it was clearly more fun than the grocery store.
Lesson three: Use your imagination and the mundane can become magical.
We arrived home and an unusually warm January sun made the air feel like spring. Despite two-foot snow banks lining the sidewalk, Sam decided it was time to ride bike. So, we dug out his helmet and pulled his Incredible Hulk two-wheeler off the ceiling hooks in the garage.
He sped away, but within seconds a sheet of snow and ice sent him flat on his belly. I thought that might be the end of the January biking adventure, but I was wrong. He accepted my advice for maneuvering under slippery conditions and pedaled off, this time more carefully.
When we neared the end of the block, he suddenly hopped off the bike. “Oops. He’s had enough,” I thought. Wrong again. A smooth patch of ice by his feet screamed, “Dance on me.” So Sam shuffled around on the ice for a bit, enjoying a little boot dance in a neighbor’s driveway.
Lesson four: Be spontaneous, and joyful. If the spirit moves you, dance!
Soon it was time for lunch. Sam ate a half bowl of daily gruel and a few slices of apple. “Done mom,” he said and hopped down. He declined my offer of a treat saying, “I’m full mom. My tummy beeped.”
Lesson five: Stop eating when you’re full.
If you’re blessed to have a four-year-old in your life, take time today to see what he or she can teach you. If not, go ahead and borrow a couple lessons from Sam. Think for yourself. Be imaginative, spontaneous and joyful. Take time for things you enjoy. And listen carefully for your tummy to beep.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
2010 Challenge: Can you give up shopping?
My 2010 New Year’s challenge started with an article from Good Housekeeping magazine, recommended to me by my friend Jesse.[http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/money/budget/stop-shopping.] The article poses a simple question: “Can you survive a year without shopping?”
The obvious answer is “no.” Only a strict vegetarian with a massive garden and no concern for how they smell could pull that off. But, a few families featured in this article successfully quit shopping for a year except for items that were edible or depletable.
For them, the goal wasn’t so much saving money as changing their focus. They wanted to focus less on accumulating things and more on accumulating experiences. So, they passed up collecting new toys, clothes and furniture, and embraced family trips and outings to movies or restaurants.
Having spent the past year trying to clear out clutter and simplify our lives, this challenge seemed like a natural next step. I have embraced it enthusiastically.
During the first week of the challenge I noticed how often thoughts of shopping popped into my head. “I should stop at Kmart quick and upgrade my Christmas storage with those smart red and green bins.”
Last week I passed the first big test, a trip to Target without my kids. Typically, the formula for this scenario reads like this: mother + time in Target + no children + no husband = unnecessary impulsive purchases.
On this trip I had a clear purpose: toilet paper, Oil of Olay, frozen egg rolls.
The cleverly placed dollar items beckoned me at the door, but since I wasn’t “shopping” I walked by. The endstops on aisles were full of attractive, non-essentials: Valentine’s Day decorations, discounted DVDs, pretty candles. Tempting but I resisted.
Sticking to my list (and a few extra food items) I was in and out in 15 minutes and drove away feeling peaceful and powerful. I rewrote the formula!
Take heart store owners. Despite my best lobbying efforts, my husband and kids don’t share my enthusiasm for the challenge, even after I sweetened the pot with an extravagant reward like a big family trip financed by the money we could save.
That said, my kids are still ex-officio participants. Unfortunately for them, I am the financier and taxi driver for 95 percent of their purchases. My six-year-old seems to have accepted this. On about day eight of the 365-day challenge he said, “Mom, when we’re done with the ‘no shopping’ thing, can I buy Sam a skateboard?”
I’m not sure he appreciates the length of a year.
Understand, I am not a big shopper, mostly because I suffer greatly from spending remorse. Still, the challenge is liberating.
• No negotiating with the kids about whether they can have this or that. “Sorry, mom’s not shopping.”
• No pressure to participate in the latest fashion trend.
• No need to read catalogues. They go straight into the garbage.
• Books will come from the library, or the shelves of unread books we already own.
• Gifts will be experiences – movie tickets, ski passes, coffee cards, a special class.
Rather than spending time looking for new things to get and finding places to put them, a year without shopping forces us to appreciate what we already have, and spend time together enjoying it.
The obvious answer is “no.” Only a strict vegetarian with a massive garden and no concern for how they smell could pull that off. But, a few families featured in this article successfully quit shopping for a year except for items that were edible or depletable.
For them, the goal wasn’t so much saving money as changing their focus. They wanted to focus less on accumulating things and more on accumulating experiences. So, they passed up collecting new toys, clothes and furniture, and embraced family trips and outings to movies or restaurants.
Having spent the past year trying to clear out clutter and simplify our lives, this challenge seemed like a natural next step. I have embraced it enthusiastically.
During the first week of the challenge I noticed how often thoughts of shopping popped into my head. “I should stop at Kmart quick and upgrade my Christmas storage with those smart red and green bins.”
Last week I passed the first big test, a trip to Target without my kids. Typically, the formula for this scenario reads like this: mother + time in Target + no children + no husband = unnecessary impulsive purchases.
On this trip I had a clear purpose: toilet paper, Oil of Olay, frozen egg rolls.
The cleverly placed dollar items beckoned me at the door, but since I wasn’t “shopping” I walked by. The endstops on aisles were full of attractive, non-essentials: Valentine’s Day decorations, discounted DVDs, pretty candles. Tempting but I resisted.
Sticking to my list (and a few extra food items) I was in and out in 15 minutes and drove away feeling peaceful and powerful. I rewrote the formula!
Take heart store owners. Despite my best lobbying efforts, my husband and kids don’t share my enthusiasm for the challenge, even after I sweetened the pot with an extravagant reward like a big family trip financed by the money we could save.
That said, my kids are still ex-officio participants. Unfortunately for them, I am the financier and taxi driver for 95 percent of their purchases. My six-year-old seems to have accepted this. On about day eight of the 365-day challenge he said, “Mom, when we’re done with the ‘no shopping’ thing, can I buy Sam a skateboard?”
I’m not sure he appreciates the length of a year.
Understand, I am not a big shopper, mostly because I suffer greatly from spending remorse. Still, the challenge is liberating.
• No negotiating with the kids about whether they can have this or that. “Sorry, mom’s not shopping.”
• No pressure to participate in the latest fashion trend.
• No need to read catalogues. They go straight into the garbage.
• Books will come from the library, or the shelves of unread books we already own.
• Gifts will be experiences – movie tickets, ski passes, coffee cards, a special class.
Rather than spending time looking for new things to get and finding places to put them, a year without shopping forces us to appreciate what we already have, and spend time together enjoying it.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Results in on 2009 New Years Resolution
One year ago, I penned a column outlining my New Year’s resolution to implement Kaizan principles of continuous improvement in my home. The idea behind Kaizan is that small, daily improvements carried out in every job or function eventually accumulate into large gains.
For me, I wanted to gain time and lose frustration and stress by improving the functionality of our home and family.
Throughout the year I have read a few books for ideas. I’ve quizzed my friends. I’ve held rummage sales, passed things down, and worn a path to the drop-off window at Seeds of Hope to purge our “gently” used treasures.
I have lost my way and given up hope many times, usually in the morning when homework papers, permission slips, filling water bottles, finding library books, packing backpacks and securing healthy, portable snacks turns our kitchen into a mini-monsoon of barking bodies.
Despite the strong forces against my little resolution, I kept at it. Sometime this fall I realized I was making progress. So with only two squares remaining on the 2009 calendar, I thought I’d share some of my most effective changes and discoveries with other homemakers who might be swimming in their own sea of chaos.
1. Letting go: I’ve given up on perfection. I can clean the bathroom sink and toilet in two minutes every day, but it might take me a month to find 45 minutes to scrub the room until it shines. I now opt for the two minutes and call it good. Who needs a spotless house? Functional, tidy and peaceful can be achieved with a little dust under the rugs.
2. De-clutter: One of the best concepts I embraced is that you can’t organize clutter. So, I am constantly (daily) removing clutter from the places it loves to collect: our kitchen desk, kitchen table, back entry, laundry room and bedside tables. I put it away, throw it away or send it to the storage room.
For big projects like closets, play rooms or storage rooms, I grab a box, set the timer for 15 minutes and find 27 items to eliminate. Doing this a few times really beats ignoring your family for a whole day while you empty, sort and reorganize a room full of mostly unnecessary stuff.
3. Spread the Work: A couple times a month we do a “Family Clean.” The first person picks everything off the floors and puts misplaced items in a box. The next one dusts. The third vacuums. And the last person puts everything back in its place. Our team goes from room-to-room and is able to clean the entire house in 2 hours.
4. Routines: By far, the most important, small change for me has been the creation of some daily and weekly routines: morning and bedtime routines, regular times for laundry, watering plants, changing sheets, planning meals, paying bills, running errands, preparing for school, reading homework, taking vitamins. Making time for all of these necessary tasks eliminates surprises, reduces stress and makes a lot more time for fun.
The source for the best of these ideas, especially techniques for de-cluttering and establishing routines, is The Flylady. Her book, “Sink Reflections” is full of ideas as is her blog at flylady.net.
This remains a work in progress, but that’s as it should be. Afterall, it’s called continuous improvement. So I have a rather dramatic new challenge for 2010 that promises even bigger gains on my modest beginnings. Stay tuned!
For me, I wanted to gain time and lose frustration and stress by improving the functionality of our home and family.
Throughout the year I have read a few books for ideas. I’ve quizzed my friends. I’ve held rummage sales, passed things down, and worn a path to the drop-off window at Seeds of Hope to purge our “gently” used treasures.
I have lost my way and given up hope many times, usually in the morning when homework papers, permission slips, filling water bottles, finding library books, packing backpacks and securing healthy, portable snacks turns our kitchen into a mini-monsoon of barking bodies.
Despite the strong forces against my little resolution, I kept at it. Sometime this fall I realized I was making progress. So with only two squares remaining on the 2009 calendar, I thought I’d share some of my most effective changes and discoveries with other homemakers who might be swimming in their own sea of chaos.
1. Letting go: I’ve given up on perfection. I can clean the bathroom sink and toilet in two minutes every day, but it might take me a month to find 45 minutes to scrub the room until it shines. I now opt for the two minutes and call it good. Who needs a spotless house? Functional, tidy and peaceful can be achieved with a little dust under the rugs.
2. De-clutter: One of the best concepts I embraced is that you can’t organize clutter. So, I am constantly (daily) removing clutter from the places it loves to collect: our kitchen desk, kitchen table, back entry, laundry room and bedside tables. I put it away, throw it away or send it to the storage room.
For big projects like closets, play rooms or storage rooms, I grab a box, set the timer for 15 minutes and find 27 items to eliminate. Doing this a few times really beats ignoring your family for a whole day while you empty, sort and reorganize a room full of mostly unnecessary stuff.
3. Spread the Work: A couple times a month we do a “Family Clean.” The first person picks everything off the floors and puts misplaced items in a box. The next one dusts. The third vacuums. And the last person puts everything back in its place. Our team goes from room-to-room and is able to clean the entire house in 2 hours.
4. Routines: By far, the most important, small change for me has been the creation of some daily and weekly routines: morning and bedtime routines, regular times for laundry, watering plants, changing sheets, planning meals, paying bills, running errands, preparing for school, reading homework, taking vitamins. Making time for all of these necessary tasks eliminates surprises, reduces stress and makes a lot more time for fun.
The source for the best of these ideas, especially techniques for de-cluttering and establishing routines, is The Flylady. Her book, “Sink Reflections” is full of ideas as is her blog at flylady.net.
This remains a work in progress, but that’s as it should be. Afterall, it’s called continuous improvement. So I have a rather dramatic new challenge for 2010 that promises even bigger gains on my modest beginnings. Stay tuned!
Monday, December 14, 2009
A Little Tiger and Britney in All of Us
My kids were captivated recently by a TV show featuring Connie Talbot. She’s the “Britain’s Got Talent” superstar who, as a darling, six year old won over the crowd and judges with her angelic version of “Over the Rainbow.”
Today, at the seasoned age of 8, Connie’s mom and an army of marketers have capitalized on her talent - and innocence. She has recorded several CDs, her own PBS holiday special, a jewelry line, video games and more.
Watching this child’s performance I couldn’t hold back my cynicism. “Hmm,” I said loudly. “I wonder where we’ll be seeing this little girl in 10 years.”
I hate to be a naysayer, but I’m tired of watching kids skyrocket to fame when they should be focused on growing up, and then struggling through adulthood with life-threatening addictions because they didn’t.
I envisioned Britney Spears, dripping with money, spoiled beyond imagine, and utterly miserable.
She had the means to go anywhere, do anything and buy whatever pleased her at any moment. When she was on tour, Spears was known to send her jet across country to secure coffee from her favorite L.A. coffee shop.
Her money could buy her a beautiful body, clothes, hair and toys, but it couldn’t deliver the one thing she needed most: peace.
Tiger Woods is the most recent childhood superstar whose life built on a seemingly indestructible fortress of sporting excellence is crumbling. I have been a Tiger fan for years, so learning the truth about the man behind the image has been a real disappointment.
To be fair, Tiger earned his reputation by being the best golfer on Earth not for his insights on character, family or values. Fans like me inferred, with the help of sponsors and promoters, the all-around “good guy” image we wanted to believe was part of the package.
What’s most disturbing about Tiger is the commentary he offers on human nature. All the respect, admiration, goodwill, trophies, praise and money he earned were somehow not enough. He had a gorgeous wife, two adorable kids and still sought to fulfill the unmet needs of his ego or sex drive with random female acquaintances.
It’s tempting to condemn the likes of Tiger and Britney for their failures and extravagances, and I have. Yet it occurs to me we are all a bit like them.
In many of our families, we juggle two careers or multiple jobs to afford bigger homes, nicer furniture, fancier cars. We invest heavily in ourselves and search for more toys or gifts or activities to make our kids happy. We strive for promotions and awards, often climbing the professional ladder on the backs of our family and friends.
Rarely do we say, “Now we have enough.” Like Tiger and Britney, there always seems to be more to have or desire. And the ongoing quest for it blinds us from the peace we could experience with a simpler life, from the joy found not in possessions but in relationships with the people who fill our lives.
Christmas is a just one week away. This season, more than any, offers the promise of peace and joy. May we refrain from the last minute activities that will prevent us from receiving it and stop long enough to soak it in.
Merry Christmas!
Today, at the seasoned age of 8, Connie’s mom and an army of marketers have capitalized on her talent - and innocence. She has recorded several CDs, her own PBS holiday special, a jewelry line, video games and more.
Watching this child’s performance I couldn’t hold back my cynicism. “Hmm,” I said loudly. “I wonder where we’ll be seeing this little girl in 10 years.”
I hate to be a naysayer, but I’m tired of watching kids skyrocket to fame when they should be focused on growing up, and then struggling through adulthood with life-threatening addictions because they didn’t.
I envisioned Britney Spears, dripping with money, spoiled beyond imagine, and utterly miserable.
She had the means to go anywhere, do anything and buy whatever pleased her at any moment. When she was on tour, Spears was known to send her jet across country to secure coffee from her favorite L.A. coffee shop.
Her money could buy her a beautiful body, clothes, hair and toys, but it couldn’t deliver the one thing she needed most: peace.
Tiger Woods is the most recent childhood superstar whose life built on a seemingly indestructible fortress of sporting excellence is crumbling. I have been a Tiger fan for years, so learning the truth about the man behind the image has been a real disappointment.
To be fair, Tiger earned his reputation by being the best golfer on Earth not for his insights on character, family or values. Fans like me inferred, with the help of sponsors and promoters, the all-around “good guy” image we wanted to believe was part of the package.
What’s most disturbing about Tiger is the commentary he offers on human nature. All the respect, admiration, goodwill, trophies, praise and money he earned were somehow not enough. He had a gorgeous wife, two adorable kids and still sought to fulfill the unmet needs of his ego or sex drive with random female acquaintances.
It’s tempting to condemn the likes of Tiger and Britney for their failures and extravagances, and I have. Yet it occurs to me we are all a bit like them.
In many of our families, we juggle two careers or multiple jobs to afford bigger homes, nicer furniture, fancier cars. We invest heavily in ourselves and search for more toys or gifts or activities to make our kids happy. We strive for promotions and awards, often climbing the professional ladder on the backs of our family and friends.
Rarely do we say, “Now we have enough.” Like Tiger and Britney, there always seems to be more to have or desire. And the ongoing quest for it blinds us from the peace we could experience with a simpler life, from the joy found not in possessions but in relationships with the people who fill our lives.
Christmas is a just one week away. This season, more than any, offers the promise of peace and joy. May we refrain from the last minute activities that will prevent us from receiving it and stop long enough to soak it in.
Merry Christmas!
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
M-E-R-C-Y Spells Relief
This summer, I got in a big tussle with my husband Mike over the planning and coordinating of household projects and personal schedules. I can’t really remember the details. What I do remember is the tension that filled our car as all of us drove out to a friend’s lake cabin to spend one of the few beautiful Saturdays of the summer.
Traveling east out of Bismarck, I knew I needed to apologize, but I dreaded doing it and wasn’t sure how to start. Finally, I just said, “I’m sorry.” Just a few minutes after uttering those words the scuffle was over, the tension was gone. We were free to enjoy the rest of a fun day. What a relief.
This story had a happy ending largely because of the mercy Mike readily offered to me.
I’ve been thinking about mercy lately and what a desirable trait it is.
Mercy is vital to parenting, and hard to come by sometimes like at bedtime with overtired children who won’t give their overtired mom a break by going to sleep peacefully. Or with little boys who insist on wrestling in Target or Perkins or the pews in church. Or with a four-year-old who talks REALLY LOUD all the time to be sure he’s heard in the event he is interrupted (which he often is.)
Parents need a fountain of mercy to nurture the clumsy, compulsive, curious and tender hearts of their kids.
Mercy is also essential to good marriages and friendships. Everyone screws up and does things that are mean, selfish or arrogant at times. For any relationship to last and grow, mercy from both people involved must be in steady supply.
Perhaps one of the areas where mercy is most lacking today is in relationships with ourselves. We are ruthless in our personal judgments, obsessing on our physical flaws or financial shortcomings -- our nose is too big, hips are too wide, chest is too small, house is too modest, clothes are too dated. We dwell on mistakes we’ve made or compare ourselves to others who appear to be more put together or accomplished.
We can be merciless on ourselves for our failures or differences.
Considering how important mercy is in our lives, it’s too bad this trait isn’t more popularly pursued. Mercy sounds sort of old fashioned and “churchy” -- something you might read in the Bible or hear about on Sundays not something to cultivate like discipline, youth, or wealth.
Perhaps that’s because being merciful really challenges us. It doesn’t always come naturally and some might equate being merciful to being weak. It’s tough being merciful because it forces us to be humble and overlook distasteful faults in ourselves and others.
Mercy comes from those who are secure, compassionate and brave. How different our world and our community would be if we challenged ourselves to be more merciful with each other every day, at home, at work, with our colleagues and competitors, friends and enemies and with ourselves.
Insecurities might fade. Grudges and petty judgments would disappear. We would all be more free – free to enjoy what’s good in others and ourselves. What a relief.
Traveling east out of Bismarck, I knew I needed to apologize, but I dreaded doing it and wasn’t sure how to start. Finally, I just said, “I’m sorry.” Just a few minutes after uttering those words the scuffle was over, the tension was gone. We were free to enjoy the rest of a fun day. What a relief.
This story had a happy ending largely because of the mercy Mike readily offered to me.
I’ve been thinking about mercy lately and what a desirable trait it is.
Mercy is vital to parenting, and hard to come by sometimes like at bedtime with overtired children who won’t give their overtired mom a break by going to sleep peacefully. Or with little boys who insist on wrestling in Target or Perkins or the pews in church. Or with a four-year-old who talks REALLY LOUD all the time to be sure he’s heard in the event he is interrupted (which he often is.)
Parents need a fountain of mercy to nurture the clumsy, compulsive, curious and tender hearts of their kids.
Mercy is also essential to good marriages and friendships. Everyone screws up and does things that are mean, selfish or arrogant at times. For any relationship to last and grow, mercy from both people involved must be in steady supply.
Perhaps one of the areas where mercy is most lacking today is in relationships with ourselves. We are ruthless in our personal judgments, obsessing on our physical flaws or financial shortcomings -- our nose is too big, hips are too wide, chest is too small, house is too modest, clothes are too dated. We dwell on mistakes we’ve made or compare ourselves to others who appear to be more put together or accomplished.
We can be merciless on ourselves for our failures or differences.
Considering how important mercy is in our lives, it’s too bad this trait isn’t more popularly pursued. Mercy sounds sort of old fashioned and “churchy” -- something you might read in the Bible or hear about on Sundays not something to cultivate like discipline, youth, or wealth.
Perhaps that’s because being merciful really challenges us. It doesn’t always come naturally and some might equate being merciful to being weak. It’s tough being merciful because it forces us to be humble and overlook distasteful faults in ourselves and others.
Mercy comes from those who are secure, compassionate and brave. How different our world and our community would be if we challenged ourselves to be more merciful with each other every day, at home, at work, with our colleagues and competitors, friends and enemies and with ourselves.
Insecurities might fade. Grudges and petty judgments would disappear. We would all be more free – free to enjoy what’s good in others and ourselves. What a relief.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Resurrecting a Lost Art: Send them Outside
My mom made donuts with my kids last week. We like cheap thrills at our house, and homemade donuts are about the cheapest thrill around. Warm, deep-fried dough dipped in sugar -- delicious.
We ate them as fast as grandma pulled them out of the fryer. She often made donuts for us when we were growing up, and told of my oldest brother John who would smell the donuts frying from outside and bring his friends in to load up.
They would spread their fingers, hang a donut ring around each one and race back outside to romp around. They probably burned off their five-donut snack before dinner.
This image got me thinking about modern boys. Sadly, the smell of baked goods wouldn’t lure many kids today from outside but from playing video games in the next room. They would likely gobble up the fatty snacks and plop back down for a couple more hours of screen time before dinner.
Video games are like crack for boys. I don’t know how or why, but Wii can change my soccer playing, bug collecting, kite flying, bike riding 6-year-old into a whiney, intolerable junkie obsessed with getting his next “fix” in front of the screen.
Television, computers and video games offer an easy path to peace in our homes, but they come at a big cost to our kids. A recent report conducted by the Colorado-based Outdoor Foundation shows that an increasing number of Americans participated in nature-based, outdoor activities in 2008. Great news.
However, outdoor activity for one critical group – children ages 6 to 17 – continues to decline. Down 8 percent in 2008, which follows an 11 percent decline the previous year.
Our kids are starved for fresh air. So I wonder, why do we so often leave our easiest, cheapest and best parenting tool tucked in the back of the closet? Going outside is a great solution to so many parenting challenges. Bored? Tired? Hungry? Crabby? Fighting with your siblings? Get outside.
Fresh air, unfiltered light and the freedom of being outdoors offers a powerful potion for the human spirit. It reboots children – and adults -- energizes us and provides a new perspective.
Scientists have studied the affects of outdoor activities on children. We’ve heard them before, but another look might strengthen our resolve to push our kids outside as the weather turns cold. Here are just a few of the many proven benefits:
• Decreased stress, anxiety and obesity.
• Improved motor skills, cognitive functioning and creativity.
• Development of healthy lifelong habits and hobbies.
• Reduced symptoms of Attention Deficit Disorder.
• Strengthened family relationships.
• Greater appreciation for nature and wildlife.
Today was a flawless fall day, and I spent most of it in a small, windowless office. The sun was starting to set when I arrived home but I was determined to capture a few minutes of fresh air. Thankfully, my kids didn’t resist.
We crossed the street and wandered around a (dwindling) parcel of vacant prairie north of our house. We walked through “Sunrise Crater,” climbed a couple hay bales and played a bit of football. It was a lovely evening and we stayed out long enough to watch the sunset.
Walking home by moonlight, one of the kids pointed to the sky and yelled, “First star. Make a wish.” A few steps later, my four year old said, “I wished that we can come here again tomorrow.”
Now, there’s a wish I know I can make come true. Maybe we’ll bring a handful of grandma’s donuts.
We ate them as fast as grandma pulled them out of the fryer. She often made donuts for us when we were growing up, and told of my oldest brother John who would smell the donuts frying from outside and bring his friends in to load up.
They would spread their fingers, hang a donut ring around each one and race back outside to romp around. They probably burned off their five-donut snack before dinner.
This image got me thinking about modern boys. Sadly, the smell of baked goods wouldn’t lure many kids today from outside but from playing video games in the next room. They would likely gobble up the fatty snacks and plop back down for a couple more hours of screen time before dinner.
Video games are like crack for boys. I don’t know how or why, but Wii can change my soccer playing, bug collecting, kite flying, bike riding 6-year-old into a whiney, intolerable junkie obsessed with getting his next “fix” in front of the screen.
Television, computers and video games offer an easy path to peace in our homes, but they come at a big cost to our kids. A recent report conducted by the Colorado-based Outdoor Foundation shows that an increasing number of Americans participated in nature-based, outdoor activities in 2008. Great news.
However, outdoor activity for one critical group – children ages 6 to 17 – continues to decline. Down 8 percent in 2008, which follows an 11 percent decline the previous year.
Our kids are starved for fresh air. So I wonder, why do we so often leave our easiest, cheapest and best parenting tool tucked in the back of the closet? Going outside is a great solution to so many parenting challenges. Bored? Tired? Hungry? Crabby? Fighting with your siblings? Get outside.
Fresh air, unfiltered light and the freedom of being outdoors offers a powerful potion for the human spirit. It reboots children – and adults -- energizes us and provides a new perspective.
Scientists have studied the affects of outdoor activities on children. We’ve heard them before, but another look might strengthen our resolve to push our kids outside as the weather turns cold. Here are just a few of the many proven benefits:
• Decreased stress, anxiety and obesity.
• Improved motor skills, cognitive functioning and creativity.
• Development of healthy lifelong habits and hobbies.
• Reduced symptoms of Attention Deficit Disorder.
• Strengthened family relationships.
• Greater appreciation for nature and wildlife.
Today was a flawless fall day, and I spent most of it in a small, windowless office. The sun was starting to set when I arrived home but I was determined to capture a few minutes of fresh air. Thankfully, my kids didn’t resist.
We crossed the street and wandered around a (dwindling) parcel of vacant prairie north of our house. We walked through “Sunrise Crater,” climbed a couple hay bales and played a bit of football. It was a lovely evening and we stayed out long enough to watch the sunset.
Walking home by moonlight, one of the kids pointed to the sky and yelled, “First star. Make a wish.” A few steps later, my four year old said, “I wished that we can come here again tomorrow.”
Now, there’s a wish I know I can make come true. Maybe we’ll bring a handful of grandma’s donuts.
Monday, October 19, 2009
A Simple Bounty
Simplicity is “in” these days, at least in theory. In homes and offices, the word beckons from walls and knick-knacks urging us to “simplify.”
I’ve write often about simplifying. It’s an illusive goal, not easily achieved in our world of materialism and multitasking. We try to reduce, reuse and recycle, then head to Wal Mart to buy stuff to organize our stuff.
Despite an overwhelming number of failures, I achieved a small victory in simplifying this summer without even trying.
I became a farmer – an urban farmer. Inspired by my endlessly talented friend Becky and her handy hubby Leo, they helped us turn a previously useless hill in our backyard into our own little 8 X 14 farmer’s market.
People used to garden to produce the food they needed to survive. Now we don’t have time to garden – we’re too busy working to buy the food we need to survive.
This weekend, as we harvested our last bounty, I was reminded of the simple thrills this little patch of dirt created for our family.
The first thrill was watching our seeds sprout in the warmth of our sunniest room while snow and wind held us captive all spring. We cheered the day an infant tomato reached the roof of its mini greenhouse.
Planting was the second big thrill. I spent an entire evening kneeling beside my daughter and sprinkling seeds in the dirt. Neither of us knew what we were doing, but that didn’t matter.
A few weeks later, lettuce emerged and generated our third big thrill. We proudly shared this with grandparents and neighbors, multiplying these thrills exponentially. The kids delivered bags of fresh green leaves as if they were gold.
Yellow blossoms on tomatoes, cucumbers, peas and watermelon generated more thrills. The fact that those plain little flowers transform into big tasty vegetables is a rather impossible proposition. Our kids didn’t believe it would happen.
So when it did, and cute cucumbers, tiny tomatoes and mini watermelon appeared, we were thrilled again. For the rest of the summer, we savored the fruits of this garden. My son and I hid from the others to share the first perfectly ripe tomato. “Mom, can I go pick peas,” our four year old often asked, as hopefully as if he were angling for a new toy.
As we walked to the garden to clean it out for winter this weekend, I was sad. The limp, frost-bit plants boasted fruit that didn’t have time to ripen. I wanted to be depressed about the long winter that stood firmly between our next growing season, but that little garden would not allow it.
It thrilled us all afternoon. Seeing brilliant orange carrots surface among shovels of black dirt was like finding hidden treasures. Capturing dozens of ladybugs who were feasting on remaining cucumber leaves entertained the kids for hours.
And clean-up complete, the kids lingered long in the garden digging holes and moving dirt without a toy in site.
Our first garden was a great experiment in science, problem solving and innovation. We undertook gardening to generate good food for our family, which it did.
But its greatest bounty was the countless opportunities (and excuses) it gave us to hang out together, be outside, and slowdown enough to marvel at the wonders of our world.
That’s simplicity at its best.
I’ve write often about simplifying. It’s an illusive goal, not easily achieved in our world of materialism and multitasking. We try to reduce, reuse and recycle, then head to Wal Mart to buy stuff to organize our stuff.
Despite an overwhelming number of failures, I achieved a small victory in simplifying this summer without even trying.
I became a farmer – an urban farmer. Inspired by my endlessly talented friend Becky and her handy hubby Leo, they helped us turn a previously useless hill in our backyard into our own little 8 X 14 farmer’s market.
People used to garden to produce the food they needed to survive. Now we don’t have time to garden – we’re too busy working to buy the food we need to survive.
This weekend, as we harvested our last bounty, I was reminded of the simple thrills this little patch of dirt created for our family.
The first thrill was watching our seeds sprout in the warmth of our sunniest room while snow and wind held us captive all spring. We cheered the day an infant tomato reached the roof of its mini greenhouse.
Planting was the second big thrill. I spent an entire evening kneeling beside my daughter and sprinkling seeds in the dirt. Neither of us knew what we were doing, but that didn’t matter.
A few weeks later, lettuce emerged and generated our third big thrill. We proudly shared this with grandparents and neighbors, multiplying these thrills exponentially. The kids delivered bags of fresh green leaves as if they were gold.
Yellow blossoms on tomatoes, cucumbers, peas and watermelon generated more thrills. The fact that those plain little flowers transform into big tasty vegetables is a rather impossible proposition. Our kids didn’t believe it would happen.
So when it did, and cute cucumbers, tiny tomatoes and mini watermelon appeared, we were thrilled again. For the rest of the summer, we savored the fruits of this garden. My son and I hid from the others to share the first perfectly ripe tomato. “Mom, can I go pick peas,” our four year old often asked, as hopefully as if he were angling for a new toy.
As we walked to the garden to clean it out for winter this weekend, I was sad. The limp, frost-bit plants boasted fruit that didn’t have time to ripen. I wanted to be depressed about the long winter that stood firmly between our next growing season, but that little garden would not allow it.
It thrilled us all afternoon. Seeing brilliant orange carrots surface among shovels of black dirt was like finding hidden treasures. Capturing dozens of ladybugs who were feasting on remaining cucumber leaves entertained the kids for hours.
And clean-up complete, the kids lingered long in the garden digging holes and moving dirt without a toy in site.
Our first garden was a great experiment in science, problem solving and innovation. We undertook gardening to generate good food for our family, which it did.
But its greatest bounty was the countless opportunities (and excuses) it gave us to hang out together, be outside, and slowdown enough to marvel at the wonders of our world.
That’s simplicity at its best.
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