Organization Muscle

I long to be so much more organized. But it is such a tedious, never ending, difficult to follow through task. Where does all this stuff come from? I try different straightening-up strategies. Sometimes an idea seems wonderful, but when attempted it just does not work. I can't seem to figure out a way to put unopened mail somewhere it will be seen but kept from adding to the clutter or getting mixed with piles of random papers. And the biggest task in organizing the home is deciding when to throw something out (and whether to bring it home in the first place).

I used to lean toward throwing everything out if it wasn't being used. Well, kind of. I am not a minimalist at all and I need to take the time to thin out many areas. My closet is packed with clothes I may fit into one day. But now, having less finances has given me a desire to file away more stuff properly for later just in case (though I'll never be an extreme couponer. I don't need a large storeroom of perishable goods). There is nothing worse than investing in something to discover that the item was already on-hand somewhere in the house or garage. Objects kept but forgotten about.

Today I went through my filing. It contained many forgotten items. Cards I'd bought specifically but never gave out. Photos I'd stuffed into an album until I had time to insert them. And piles of to-be-filed-but-where? that I'd put aside over and over again. Maybe it's motherhood and its need for change and growth. Maybe it's Pinterest and blogs and the contemplating my brain does through writing again. But in that 1.5 hour nap time I achieved a record amount of organizing the files, thinning them out, and arranging items more efficiently. I grouped things so that they were easier to find than so many random papers. Instead of invitations spread throughout under last names, I made a "Wedding Invite" envelope. Now I'll be more likely to put them away, and keep them. What a cute momento to look back on. And with changing technology I am sure invites will differ in style and composition down the road, making looking back even more intriguing (oh, and look at those color choices, and how they were dressed!).

Going through the filing I found so many memories. Concerts, musicals, and plays watched. Courses taken. Inspirational notes received. Vacations enjoyed. Unique tours encountered (walking the ocean floor in a heavy helmet, ATVing in the desert in the rain, dogsledding across borders through sparkly snow, climbing pyramids in the heat). Church conferences experienced. Large items purchased.

Where do the years go? I have already been married for 6 exciting, tumultuous, enchanting years, Numerous trips taken to see family, to revel in the outdoors, to enjoy the warmth of Mexico, to explore the casinos of Vegas. Butterfly worlds, history museums, gift shops, and restaurants of all kinds. Blessings I didn't deserve. Memories of lives progressively changing in a two-steps-forward and one-step-back growth (really, as 2 Corinthians 4:16 says, though outwardly we are wasting away, inwardly we are being renewed day by day).

In my files I found notes from counselling when I was about 23. If you would have told me then what I would be doing now I would be in disbelief. Not that anything about me is any good, but I am married with a drivers licence, a career, a marriage, a baby, an exercise routine, goals, hobbies, friends. All impossible concepts at one point. I was a different person then. So scared, hurt, shy, and confused. It took a long time to organize my scattered feelings, my capacious dreams, my undiscovered strengths and weaknesses. To forgive, knowing that holding on hurts oneself more than anyone else. Life has remained a process of choosing what to keep and what to let go. Remembering that it gets progressively easier. Filing hurts and opinions gradually get faster. Throwing unnecessary and harmful waste in the trash becomes more natural. Concentrating on what truly matters becomes more second nature the more it is practiced.

So, I can believe organizing my home will get easier too, right? I am on my way, right? I guess I have to exercise the correct muscle. Step by step.

Now, if only I could get my daughter to stop throwing random objects in the hamper, spreading shoes throughout the house, throwing toys down the stairs, and emptying cupboards. Or, maybe she is the trainer stretching my organizing muscle.

A Dog's Best Friend

My "baby" for 7 years was my beloved mutt. She was my hiking and jogging companion. My motivation to get outside. We would take her camping, swimming, hiking, canoeing, boating, biking. We drove over 20 hours with her, camping and site seeing along the way, and she was a wonderful companion. She has attended a few weddings and many get togethers. She has always been a fairly smart and obedient dog. I had some concerns, though, when I was preparing to have a baby.

My dog is my little body guard. And this was exemplified when I became pregnant. She went from protectively barking at large trucks and animals when we were in the car to barking at everything. Cute children, harmless little ladies, friendly bike riders. She also had a bit of a problem with some men. She had attended many all day events with us, but after snapping at three men that I was talking to at a cancer fundraiser, I reluctantly had to take her home. I was a little apprehensive. I wanted my beloved buddy to continue being part of the family. Not left neglected because she was getting grumpy and old. She was certainly healthy and playful, and surprisingly still is at 9 years old.

She also wasn't that interested in rambunctious children any more. She had gone from being completely tolerant to avoiding them when one had hurt her a few years ago. I really hoped her sentiment would change when she realised this one would be here to keep.

When I had my precious munchkin it didn't seem to bother the hound, other than confusion when I would use my "little" voice. So many times she thought I was talking to her when I wasn't, so eventually she started ignoring me altogether. I would have to call her name a few times for her to believe my affection was for her.

Thankfully, the crying baby never bothered the mongrel. I babysat a dog once who howled when I sang and I was hoping that my infant's cries would not get a stressful reaction from my four legged friend. (Take note that my own dog quite likes my singing. I think.) My dog was just content that I was home so much, instead of leaving her for 9 boring hours.

As our baby grew it was obvious that her canine knew they were sisters. The dog remained protective but quickly learned to be quiet while the baby napped (usually). Once the little noise maker progressed to eating solids, the babbler was admired even more because she dropped food on the floor. I quickly taught the dog not to go near the food until the baby left the room. They could sit side by side and not share food. The mutt knew not to take food from the baby or lick her.

I wish I had the same understanding with toys. The dog learned to leave the children's toys alone. Except for rubber duckies. They have such an appealing squeak. I had to encourage the rugrat to keep them with the tub toys or the dog would steal them. My tot would try to share other toys but quickly caught on that her canine couldn't have certain items. She would tease by throwing her own ball and shaking her head "no".

I was less successful the other way around. Tears are shed sometimes because my daughter wants a ball or stick that the dog has in her mouth. She is always collecting dog toys and playing with them. She'll throw the dogs ball and be confused the times that her furry friend isn't interested.

Her infatuation with the dog toys used to bother me. Just like her love for playing with shoes. Dirty. Yuck. But instead of creating a battle, I let it go. I vacuum the hairy dog bed every few days and throw the slobbery dog toys in the washing machine once in a while. Other than that, my youngster's little immune system is developing. I just try to remember to wash busy fingers before eating.

My girl loves her dog. And her dog is amazing with her. I'll watch as the four legged one sits there submissively and allows papers, blankets, or clothing to be piled on top of her. The tail-wagger will let her mini owner examine her collar or even poke her in the eye. One time I was cutting the dog's abundantly furry paw hair and she let the baby use her as a jungle gym. I think she has only growled a few times when she was startled by being stepped on. I am so very pleased that they get along well. Baby loves Dog. And dog loves baby. It doesn't matter if she is being bothered, the dog still follows her munchkin around.

As a result, my daughter loves all dogs. I think "woof" was one of her first words. It has gotten to the point that she can't sleep in the stroller by the river anymore because there are too many dogs to see and get ecstatic about. She relishes her walk with daddy in the morning. She won't let anyone forget that she has to walk her dog. Her best friend.

It's Not Spring

Spring doesn't officially start until March 20th. Still, we have all been relishing in the hypothesis that we were already living in it for some time now. The kiss of the warm sun. The drip and flow of melting snow. It all seemed more possible as our winter here had been mild with no severe cold stretches and not a tremendous amount of snowfall. I only recall having to figure out how to shovel my steps with a toddler once this year, and the rest could wait for my husband. This is unusual in these mountainous parts.

As the pussy-willows sprouted, out have come the bikes. The rollerblades. Even the boats. The avid gardeners and those longing for their meticulous lawns have begun rigorously chopping away at the packed snow that has accumulated, hoping to assist nature's transition.

But it happened. Today it snowed. The clouds hadn't completed their bestowing us with the frosty white stuff. It piled on the branches like an exquisite first-of-the-season snowfall. It covered the end-of-season spread of dirt that was used for traction. It was very beautiful.

Beautiful? I don't think that was the general consensus of the fellow inhabitants of our little snow-ville. Facebook was plastered with curses and poutings about how we had been fooled and this wasn't fair. Especially since yesterday had been so enjoyably spring-like! I decided to check the twitter account of "Mother Nature" to see how much flack she gets, but it turns out I have to be a "follower" to see her tweets, and I don't have a twitter account. Good thing. I don't need to look into it more. I know that the majority of my fellow citizens were not pleased.

Years ago I would not have been either. I suffered from Seasonal Affective Disorder. The winter blues. And it would bring me down and make me feel run-down mentally and physically. One year I felt it more than ever in my body and decided that I'd had enough. I was tenaciously going to figure out how to appreciate all seasons. I was going to get outside. So I tried downhill skiing. It turned out that my extra exhaustive condition was from Leukemia. Being outdoors helped me get through the battle. And in further seasons I developed an appreciation for what is given to me that I cannot change.

I am unable to pronounce that it rain or snow or that the sun shine brightly. I have to accept my plight. Begrudgingly, or with decision to take advantage of the opportunities given to me. Sure, if I have a specific event there is the possibility that Mother Nature can ruin my plans, but generally I can only face the day given and make the most of its attributes.

This attitude came in very handy when I had a baby. I struggled with many factors, like a history of the blues, the sudden myriad of changes, problems with childbirth and with breast feeding. As a result, I suffered from postpartum depression. In order to make it through I would bundle up my baby and take her out every day. We went for walks in the rain. The snow. The wind. The below freezing temperatures. We walked the dog. Walked to town. Went snowshoeing. While talking, singing, and praying, we thankfully took in the healing essence of fresh air. To this day, nothing deters my little nugget from wanting to go outside.

Today she discovered trudging through snow that almost chillingly spilled into her little boots. She plodded ahead slowly, and often surely. Occasionally she required a hand to hold when it became too much resistance for her dainty little legs. She stopped to stare at the intriguing tread inside footprints. And her coat became bedazzled with more and more sparkly fluff that melted and made her mother wonder how long she would remain dry. Her little hands began to get red. They refused to wear mitts because, as means of investigation, they needed the sense of touch. She wanted the full effect.

She didn't claim it a snow day. She revelled in being in the midst of it. And as my improperly adorned feet were saturated with icy dampness, I was glad to have the opportunity to expose her to this joy.

We live in an enchanting place. And spring doesn't begin for over a week.

Slow Down, Mommy.

I did some volunteer this morning with my investigative 16 month old in tow. What would have taken maybe a quick half an hour took 2 whole eventful hours. There are moments when I can't spare any minutes but usually I try to balance sweeping her from one thing to the next and taking it toddler-tortoise time. And she will take as much as she can get. "No, sweetheart, we are going this way!"

She cautiously stepped up and down any steps she passed. Splashed with delight in any puddle that she saw. Exuberantly pointed at items in the towering store windows. Longingly gazed at garbage that I wouldn't let her pick up. Curiously examined the cracks in the sidewalk. Paused to recite the ABCs (or should I say ABDBs) for any writing she saw. Said "Hello" to passersby, whether they were amiable, oblivious, or unfriendly. How could you be unfriendly to such an adorable face?

In her mind, there was no wasted time. She saw things. Touched things. Explored. We did just what she expected. She has no idea that my list was barely touched. That I had to do an extra load of laundry because of mud puddles. That I was late getting somewhere and it was closed for lunch, making a two block meander pointless. Her purpose is to be a little scientist discovering her world. Cover as much as she can and learn at an absolutely blow-your-mind astonishing rate.

And I am the devoted producer funding the venture. The reliable assistant giving a hand. The strong bodyguard keeping her safe. The friendly chauffeur driving her from event to event. The busy chef nourishing her for the journey. The loving spiritual guide helping her to know faith and peace. The attentive secretary documenting her milestones. The observant photographer capturing the memories. The, um... slacking housekeeper cleaning up her messes. And greatest of all, her dear best friend to experience the multitude of wonders alongside her.

Later in the day I waited, waited, waited to leave the house again after coming home for her nap. She was having a snack. I should say slowly savouring a snack, with many distractions. One was to come over and give me a kiss. How sweet.

Before having a child I thought that this slowing down would be a lot more inconvenient. I'll be honest. The first few months were quite a change and a shocker. Maybe newborns are so consuming so that we have to let go and become selfless. Then, as they age, we can treasure each stage with them because we let go of our own agenda.

I have a list of things I need to do. I know I'll have to allocate much more time for each, and be open to pauses when performing tasks. I am more aggravated with other time-suckers, like a slow Internet or a lost wallet. (Then there is the time lost to remake burnt food. I am horrible at remembering I am cooking.) Baby girl interruptions are quite alright with me. I enjoy slowing down and seeing the world for its physical beauty and diversity instead of my nagging worries and pressing agenda. My girl will only be this little for a short time. Right now, we pause to classify everything. Bear? Tiger? Giraffe? Soon we will stop to answer questions to further understanding. Then will come, "Why?" Learning will continue for a very long time. I, who am also her teacher, want to encourage rather than hinder that.

Right now, as I finish this, we have concluded a very long and sloppy dinner and she is wrestling with dad, who also has stuff to do but is enjoying a moment with her before bed. Then we are going to have a bath. A bath that will be longer than necessary but will be fun. Because it has bubbles and rubber duckies. She knows what matters.

"I YOU, DadEEE!

Time to brag on the father of my child. My husband is naturally developing a secure, loving, smart little girl because of his doting attention and affection. From day one he has been an absolutely amazing dad.

When I gave birth I lost a large amount of blood. I was weak and could not stand up. Daddy did all the diaper changes. He paced the halls with her for her first two nights, introducing her to a plethora of items she would be experiencing in her new world. "This is a flower." "This is a phone". I was worried he would overstimulate her but I know he set in motion her observing and her imagination. He had no problem devoting all of his time to his precious baby.

So, at two days old, when I finally changed a diaper, he exclaimed, "This is Mommy's first time changing you! I have been changing your diaper your WHOLE LIFE!!" He will be building her tolerance for corny jokes as well.

He continued to lavish her with attention, taking the first week of her life off of work.(He also took the week before her birth off as he couldn't concentrate. Good thing I wasn't way overdue.) He had no qualms about diaper changing, bathing, soothing her to sleep. His love for her glowed like a fairy tale story. He was always full of eye contact and had lively articulation in his voice and face. She followed suit by being very responsive and dramatic in her expression. She relishes each and every moment with her Daddy. Even if he simply carries her as he does errands or sits with her in front of the television.

They have their regular routine. They have cheerful wrestling and tickling matches in the evening, usually when she should be winding down for slumber. In the morning they walk the dog together before breakfast. They stroll with her in his strong arms while pointing out a medley of sights. Touching and sniffing nature. Listening to near and far sounds. She emphatically points at her surroundings, wonder upon wonder, and says, "Wow, wow, WOW!" to every new, and relived, discovery. When I watch in awe how quickly she notices a passing bird or a tiny butterfly, I give daddy credit. He perpetuated the blood flow to her brain and the messages flooding from her eyes, nose, hands, and toes into her constantly learning noggin.

Not only is she smart, but she is so affectionate as well. Pats on the back. Blowing kisses. Tight squeezes. Cuddles morning and night. Squinting with the eyes like a hug with her face. And her repetitive, "I YOU!" Throughout the day.

I look forward to their daddy-daughter dates. To him expanding his conversations with her as she learns to articulate. To watching them grow together and learn lessons from each other. To see them work out their misunderstandings and differences.

She'll easily understand her Daddy God in heaven loves her because she wont question the presence of paternal love in her attachment with her "DadEEE". Once again, he has taught me about the awesome power of love.

Who needs flash cards and educational shows when you've got a wonderful father to hold you tight and wholeheartedly share discoveries with?

A Night Away

The other night my light-of-my-life 16 month old spent her first evening and bed time with someone other than mom or dad. Mom has her day or two a week and dad often works late but this was her first evening spent with someone else. I'd kept her up late the two nights prior in case she refused to go to sleep for a different person in a different home. We didn't expect to return until 10. Our first time out together at that hour without our darling little munchkin and her beautiful smile and infectious laugh.

Numerous times we have taken her to evening get togethers. She has attended meetings through to 9 or 9:30. She successfully rang in the New Year with us, initially by behaving herself during a lengthy five course meal in a fancy restaurant, ending after midnight with a small group of die hard friends. She was quite in awe at our loud antics when it hit midnight. Since her birth we have only had one quick lunch and one early dinner without her. But now it was time for mom and dad to have an amorous night out (it was more like a carefree, don't-have-to-think-much night out).

She handled her adventurous evening extraordinarily well. She didn't even look for us. She went to sleep with no complications, no protests, no tears. Once again, all my worry had been for nothing. When planning, we had even considered cancelling our "date" and turning the outing into a guys night. I had bought my husband two tickets for a show for his birthday. He was decidedly excited and wanted to share the experience with her but that wouldn't have been possible. I didn't know what I was going to do with her and I expected to send him with a friend while I stayed in with her instead.

I am sure all mothers are apprehensive about leaving their precious children. I find it extremely difficult. She is my beautiful little miracle. I waited so long for her and she is perfect. At this point I can't just leave her with anyone. Not that no one is capable. I am sure there are many safe options.

I can't recall many of my own babysitters. We probably stayed with loving aunts and uncles and grandparents. But I do recall one when we were a little older. He was quite a trouble maker. He was young. A friend of the family. One time we were walking by a convenience store and there was an unattended delivery truck out back. He had us climb along a fence and steal 2L bottles of pop. Another time, he had us steal something even worse. I don't know if if was premeditated or if he randomly climbed a ladder up to a residence and looked around. But he discovered marijuana plants and he had us help him take some by stuffing one in our shirts. Children make great accomplices because they don't grasp the ramifications. Prime child care, that was! I am sure quiet, shy little me didn't have anything to say. In a third incident he had us participate in some vandalism. I didn't think much of it at the time but in hindsight I saw how much trouble we could have been in and I was mortified.

I know that the chance a baby sitter is going to have my daughter steal items is very slim. It is the idea that you don't know what's really happening. What food is being served. If your requests are being honoured, or even blatantly disobeyed. How people are talking to your baby. How they react when she is doing something she shouldn't. So much could go wrong. So much trust is required!

I am so glad her first cousin, first removed, had a great evening with her. They fed crackers to the cats, had a nice bath, and read a collection of stories. My little social butterfly fell asleep in her cousin's lap. I love when my princess gets to bond with family.

And what better way to bond than while mom and dad are out. Duly noted, mom, duly noted.

Don't Mess With The Potty

I have let an abundance of messy overtake my habitat the last year. I gave it an inch and it took much more than a mile! I have seen my daughter share toys with the dog. I let her feed herself, which results in her testing each food as a possible hair product (cottage cheese has some nice hold). I have found myself joining her as she eats off the floor (did I seriously just do that?). Or as she paints the room with popsicle or yogurt. I have watched her play in the dirt. Handle her dad's dirty construction tools. Examine the sewer drains. I have even seen, to my horror, her pick up dog poop. Mess after mess after mess. I have laundered more clothing than I could ever thought possible.

Through all of this I have wiped, washed, scrubbed, bathed, and tucked the dirty away. Down the sink, in the garbage, out with the bath water, drained away in the spin cycle. Then I feel better and can face the next challenge in the battle between obsessive compulsiveness and spontaneity. (Ding-ding. One more victory for team party-pooper. Um... Sans poop.) I would be more than comfortable having everything precisely in its place (after disinfecting, polishing, and removing stains). Adversely, I long to cherish life and the people that I am blessed to experience it with. There have been too many unfortunate moments where I have let go of an opportunity for good company or bonding because I was selfishly concerned with my surroundings (I know I am not painting myself in a good light here. But I know I am not the only one). Half of me pulls one way and half the other. It is a struggle to let things go and focus on what really matters.

For those who can't get the presence of microorganisms out of their mind, this pathogen infested world continues to pose a challenge to be overcome. For me, there is one area I am afraid to navigate. An inevitable parenting task that I dread more than temper tantrums, feeding, sleep training, traveling, or anything that mothers have to competently face.

Potty training.

Can my daughter just stay in diapers? I like the convenience of taking one off, putting another on, and washing up and being done with it. Hmmm. The way she's starting to pull at her diaper tells me she is starting to become aware. And I guess there would come a point I wouldn't appreciate tending to the predicament when my little one becomes completely capable. So this morning I stood in the store staring at the shelves of potty training products. Do I want to find an additional place for her own little potty? Or do I want to put a little seat on the big toilet?

Frankly I don't even want her to enter a washroom. Loo. Lavatory. Ladies Room. Restroom. Anything containing a toilet. But that won't get us very far. For a while I have had to take a deep breath and compose myself as she enters the room and checks it out. Yesterday, mark it on the calendar, I even let her walk in the public restroom with me and stand there while I used the toilet (her obedience with "Don't touch!" really facilitated my venturing out). Have you ever peed with a child on your knee and then tried to do up your pants with one hand? Difficult. Knowing I need to let her learn, I have been telling myself not to react to my discomfort because I don't want her to have an issue. Because as a child, I did.

When I was in my first few years of school I couldn't use a public washroom alone. The teacher had to send someone with me. Apparently, I couldn't even close the stall door as the other person, facing the other way, had to stay completely visible. Just going tinkle was very stressful for me. I doubt it was all germs then. I was afraid for some reason. (I can't imagine what I would have done if there were automatic flush toilets back then! Swoooosh! BOO!) In my trepidation I had always wanted to avoid them. I am fear-free now, but still keep my visits there brief.

I keep my makeup in another area. I hang my bath towel in my bedroom. My toothbrush is not on the counter. I cringe when I see others treat it like any other social location. People who sit around on the toilet and the counter and visit. Hair items and toiletries spread all over the available space.

The lack of caution I witness is exemplified in children. They have better things to pay attention to than little invisible beings that may or may not be harmless. I recall spending time with young family members who end up touching everything. Who let their clothes rub the toilet or floor. Who splash and who miss a spot. Uh. I am mortified just writing about it. You, my reader, are either indifferent, or maybe you understand my sentiment wholeheartedly.

One thing I know, there are many people out there set on avoiding contact with anything in the washroom. The necessity of a garbage can by the door testifies of the popularity of eluding even a graze with any surface. Using paper towel to turn the taps and to open the door. As someone who doesn't stay at home all day, I will have to help my daughter feel comfortable, but be diligent in paying attention to her surroundings and to what she needs to do.

But first step, I have to get her to pee in a potty. I have a feeling it will be more menacing for me than it will be for her. I am praying I will be able to add it to the list of things that ended up easier than expected and I'll laugh looking back at my exhaustive anticipation.

Hmmm. Maybe I'll try next month.

Once Upon A Bookworm

My daughter was addicted to books before her first birthday. Her most treasured pursuit is flipping the pages of her board books. From the very moment she wakes. Before her eyes even open she beseeches for her Romeo. "Booook!" She returns to her admiration all day and in the end it is difficult to put her to sleep with her incessant mewling, "book, book, book", like it's a sweet tooth that can't be satiated. She has fallen asleep with a book in her arm just like a Teddy Bear. It reminds me of the time her dad fell asleep with his arms around a measuring tape. But I think that was totally an accident.

I figured that as she grew I would have to put down my phone and pick up a real book and set an example of this meaningful and beneficial hobby. I thought I'd have to nonchalantly plant seeds, without pushing the issue too forcibly, so she could slowly develop an interest. But it turns out the affinity comes natural. At 16 months she already has them amassed in her toy box, in the car, in the living room, in the kitchen, in the tub. (Don't worry, the bath contains water proof books.)

She has a bookshelf in her room that used to have a shoe shelf. I had to make her collection more accessible, and so the shoes were pushed over. She enjoys sitting in her rocking chair and flipping through her assortment of board books. Dora. Disney. Baby Einstein. Whinnie the Pooh. I love how her interest and attention has grown from the one word pages to the full stories. Books once set aside for later are added to the active array. Some she chooses occasionally and others she wants repeatedly until I know them off by heart and can recite them without effort. "Big A, little a, what begins with A? Aunt Annie's alligator. A-a-A." I bet I could tell you Dr Suess's whole Alphabet Book. I am so extremely relieved we have libraries so we can throw something new into the mix.

I look forward to one day sharing some favorite classics. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. Charlie and The Chocolate Factory. Alice's Adventure in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll. Charles Dickens. Mark Twain. J.R.R Tolkien. Oh, I'm so excited. I'll be reading with her until she kicks me out.

For her second birthday I have planned to celebrate her dear infatuation. I want to have a book party. I'd love to hear of others' favorites. Ones that I have never heard of before. Expand my daughter's compilation with more than just books for which I hold a fancy. Or that I find at garage sales. I am as grateful for them as I am libraries.

Her beloved pastime is quite convenient. She can contentedly look at books independently. Pointing and observing and repeating familiar words. Usually on the floor in a crazy squat that would kill my thighs. Or we can savor reading together. All snuggly close with her in my lap or in the crook of my arm. She can read books with Dad, as he adds creative twists and strange tangents that I am sure will thoroughly entertain her later.

The best part about having a toddler that loves books is watching her comprehension develop. The brain is an amazing sponge. It is capable of so much growth. At an astounding rate in children. Seeing this confirms that the human mind couldn't have developed by chance but instead is a miraculous creation. With encouragement and help it is capable of more than we could imagine.

Right now her brain is sorting and classifying for use the rest of her life. Seeing new things in the books each day. Items on the page she previously didn't recognize or couldn't catalogue. Sometimes she'll suddenly declare something new, like the tiny little bee next to a tree. She adores animals and anything that makes a sound, like the "beep, beep" of a truck. It is amazing watching her perceive something in books and then seeing it click when she happens upon it in real life. Then, when she goes back to that story it is even more fascinating.

And existence should be fascinating. Learning should be enjoyable. Reading should be a part of everyone's life. My daughter and I are going to read about the world with our mutual love for the page (how ever that will present itself in this digital era) and then get out and explore it! Our once upon a time fairy tale truly does exist.

Pinterest Is More Than Interesting

Pinterest. What a novel idea. It makes it so elementary to share what we admire or treasure or appreciate. The absolute epitome of the access to information in the 21st century. For those who haven't tried it, Pinterest is basically "pinning" things you are "interested" in online onto a board, like a recipe board or a birthday party planning board.

For many it is a way to dream. Their future wedding or perfect vacation or longed-for home. For some it is a way to procrastinate. To stay up late looking at charming things or prolong the "just a minute" into "oh, my, I really should be doing something else". For others it is a catalyst for getting new, expanded modes of doing things. Maybe because they long to be more of a creative person or more of a perfectionist. The model parent or best wife. Maybe they are looking for ingenious ways to save time or money. Perhaps both.

After seeing some resourceful ideas shared on Facebook, I decided to give it a boo. Here was an endless selection of user approved pages that were easy to navigate. It led to site after site of children's activities. Motivational quotes. Decorating hints. Healthy lifestyle suggestions. Holiday and party planning. And recipes, recipes, recipes.

I filed away so many new baking and dinner ideas. As well as other pins that gave suggestions on how to modify recipes so that I would appreciate them even more. I now frequently make Slow Cooker Salsa Chicken (modified from another Pinterest post to have nothing canned), Banana Pancakes that my toddler gobbles up, and Homemade Taco Seasoning without the chemicals and salt. I have successfully tried Quinoa Mac and Cheese (my husband didn't really agree with this one), Breakfast Ham Cups, Peanut Butter and Banana Bites, and Crockpot Beef Stroganoff. I have learned the best way to cut up a watermelon and how to cook an egg in a sliced pepper. The list goes on. In checking out my "Food" board I see so many more food blogs that I endeavour to test. Now I am hungry. But really, when am I not hungry?

Pinterest has been a hugely beneficial agglomeration for this girl who loves to eat healthy and cook a variety of tastes, but isn't the best at following recipes. I need to be able to easily go through many suggestions.

It has also made planning inspiring activities for my girl quite exciting. I have made a sticky spider web out of painter's tape. My husband had fun seeing how much he could hang in it without it pulling off the wall. My daughter and I experimented with goop made out of cornstarch, which was strange as it was neither solid nor liquid! We have explored sensory play of all kinds and made umpteen messes with many more to come. And I have enumerable other crafts and adventures to test with my little scientist. Soon her attention span will improve and I will be able to up the level of activities. So many possibilities for play with components we already have in the home.

I would say this sharing of information has made it a stimulating era to grow up in! And an ingenious time to be a mother. I am grateful for my ability to use a computer, as I know that not everyone has the convenience. What a big, fascinating world compared to what was available during my childhood!

Now, to get some sleep or I'll never have the endurance or patience to follow through with more Pinterest discoveries.

La Famiglia

I told myself to put more effort in recalling positive experiences from my childhood. What are my warmest moments? Fragments for which I am grateful? A short search and I realize an unmistakable answer. Time spent with extended family. (Before I morphed into a lonely teenager. Once a hormonal teen I became more self conscious and struggled with my emotions.) Even though I was shy, unlike I thought in my previous post about limited memories as she grows, I loved family time as a kid.

I cherished going camping with my mom's parents. Oma and Opa would drive us to the microscopic mountains way off in the distance until the sheets of rock towered over us like solid arms that would entrap us and hide us from the sun forever. Oma and Opa would take us to the lake where I would play for hours until I was burnt to a crisp. We would go to the scorching hot pools and relax. And in the evening we'd always have a fun game of Yatzee or cards or Tile Rummy. We listened to Dutch music and ate chocolate on toast. Many times these trips would include my brother and me playing with cousins in the sand and water.

At Oma's house we would slide down the lush carpeted stairs. Play with Tupperware dish sets. Make patterns in the soft fabric of the couch. Run around the humongous hill in front of her house.

I also went camping with my dad's parents. We would enjoy home made pop from their syrup mix and carbonating machine. We would go bike riding, go out in the boat, and I think we went 4X4ing. I remember watching the hummingbirds. Playing pool. Listening to songs on the electric keyboard. Cuddling with the dog.

I have distant memories of visiting my dad's sister. I remember macrame and horses. Laughing so hard with my cousin that we spat milk out our noses.

I recall our mom and us moving in with her brother. Sleeping in the basement and worrying about spiders. Having a kitten that would try to follow me to school.

I treasure the unique relationship with each family member. I cannot wait to watch my daughter get to know her large family. Trips downtown and lunches out with her Oma. TV-table barbecues in her grandparents' back yard. Traveling hours to spend time with people who love her and will miss her. Bonding with cousins at the pool or lake, or while feeding the ducks or running and dancing to a band in the plaza.

I know that so many of my own relationships were short lived or sporadic. Nowadays it is so much easier to keep in touch, even when far away. We don't just have phone, at better value than when I was young, but also easy video contact. We can keep everyone informed so that when reunions do happen we can easily fall into our comfortable play and chatter. I always show my daughter pictures and tell her names of the special people in her life.

Unfortunately, my step daughter and her children will be moving away. I love watching our children get all excited noisily playing with cardboard boxes, making helter-skelter obstacle courses, and running around with the dog. I love how my daughter inquisitively stares at her energetic niece who is five years her senior. How the older one is so concernedly protective and helpful.

It is time to load up on carefree trips to the park and swimming pool. Decorate the street with chalk. Accompany each other to church. Take millions of pictures of them hanging out in forts and having meals. We will have to make most of the time now to build momentous memories and help them anticipate being reunited.

Now that I look back at what I thought was a crappy childhood and see enjoyable family time, I am going to help my daughter prioritize family. Even if they have busy lives or have considerable differences. I will plant family seeds in her heart. Help her be thankful for these permanent ties. We will invest in family time and encourage our daughter to stay in touch.

Maybe I should start a family-trip-fund jar.