Lovingheart

I’m guessing there are many out there that feel that Wal-Mart choosing to supply more organic products is a big step in the right direction. I’m not so sure I agree. What about the quality that we hope for with organic food. Wal-Mart doesn’t strike me as the kind of company that is concerned about quality. They care about cutting costs wherever possible. Somehow this mentality doesn’t fit in with what is required these days to offer healthy, organic, cared-for food. What about the small farmers? They can try and create enough of one product to be able to supply all the similar stores in the area or they can continue to do their best, live within their values and get their food out the best they can. It’s no secret I have a resistance to this kind of store. Heck I still have a gift card for Wal-Mart that I got as a gift for Christmas that remains unused. Realistically we are not in a position to be picky about where our products come from but I am. I care about the farmers. I

I believe it was just before PM was born or possibly just after and I was crossing the road. There were the melted remains of an ice cream cone on the road. I felt my system cringe at the thought of what the child experienced when s/he dropped the cone. I really felt then the importance of healing my issues around food so that I wouldn’t treat my children with the disrespect or harshness that would come so naturally to me in such a situation. I think of this now over 5 years later and feel pain to see that I may have come a long way (I’d like to believe that, though often it feels like I am just as stuck and dysfunctional as I was then) there have been many experiences where I have treated my kids in a way that makes me cringe and shiver. A recent example (and definitely not the worst of things I have done) happened this evening. Thomas has taken on bath time with the kids. He was just doing something quick in the living room and I heard LB crying in the tub. As he didn’t seem to

Well, thanks to Thomas the blinds are up! Yes he attached the brackets, cut the posts and cut the material as well. Then of course he attached the material to the posts. What did I do? Said thanks! OK I also applied fray stop and ironed the material. Well the room is much darker now even when it’s light out. I was deciding between pink and blue material and chose blue because it would block out more light. Problem is the pink would look so much nicer with all the gray that is in the bedroom. Oh well – ya make choices and sometimes there’s a sacrifice involved (or is that most or all of the time?)

I tend to be someone that can get my ‘mords wixed’. This is something I see in PM as well. Though this happened a while ago it is the perfect example. He comes running downstairs saying ‘I got my pair a self of pants!’ Well I sure understood what he was talking about. One thing he says on a regular basis that is a bit mixed is ‘make suring’ (instead of making sure). I always think it’s cute to hear. Interesting that last night I was writing about his Lego and thinking of a particular set. Lately this set hasn’t had much play time. Sure enough this morning just after breakfast he takes all the pieces and guys and trucks out. He gets out the instructions, takes apart the more self-created versions and then rebuilds them all according to the written pictures and instructions. Then he goes along to another set to make another truck (a crane) according to instructions. For this one he has everything set up to be just like it (‘No mom that’s not how it goes. See it is supposed to

I get a kick out of LB’s very animated discussions. I was just listening to her going on and on with very excited inflections, the laughing, the oh’s and ah’s and telling some long story. Though I couldn’t see her I could picture the physicals that go along with it. The animated face, the arms which are gesturing every which way. This morning during breakfast she all of a sudden started telling us some long story. I try very hard to understand what she is saying and catch words here and there: daddy, downstairs, computer, kitchen… I gather it was a playback of typical mornings in the house here. What is cute is when she starts into one of these stories on the phone. The arm gestures, the laughs, the talking and all. I’m sure the other person on the end of the phone (the last was Oma) has no idea what she’s talking about and is missing all the gestures the physicals that go along with it. I guess that’s how it goes with phone calls though. We learn that we have to speak rather t

PM can get so enthusiastic that he will start hitting LB. For the most part she takes it pretty calmly but it can also hurt her. For instance the other day when he started pounding (slapping) her back when she didn’t have a top on. It is a sort of excitement, enthusiasm, charge of energy I think, that has PM act like this but I am trying to work with him to channel the energy differently. Today in the car I suggested (with actions and got a laugh out of the kids) that he slap his legs, that he bonk himself on the head, that he start banging on the seat, that he clap his hands loudly together. I trust that he will be able to act differently when this feeling overtakes him. Heck if nothing else I have told him to hit me rather than his sister. I am often impressed at how sensitive he can be. He wants to be close and he is aware of things to do to help his sister or me. He is a 5-year-old and thus can be loud and boisterous and aggressive but he also has the other side. I need to

My heart doesn’t feel very loving My heart doesn’t feel very loved. My heart feels heavy, bleak, dark and alone Alone with my mind that is ruling my actions, my feelings, my life. These are not the joyful and sometimes stressed stories of life as a mom but more the stories of a mom on her way through depression (out).

Been thinking of a conversation I had with a friend a while ago where she was saying she wanted to hold onto her anger. She didn’t want to let it go because she wanted change. Her anger related to her relationship and is common where the emotions flare up, words are exchanged and then eventually things smooth over but nothing is solved or changed. I have been feeling this way except my anger is more of a depression. Lots of tears, lots of emotion and yes, lots of anger in there as well. So down (it sure is hard to be a parent when all you want to do is bury your head/ whole self in the ground) and out and wanting change. Change from myself, from my manipulating and controlling ways. Ways that have kept me trapped and stuck and tied in knots. But the depression slips away, the tears are less often and less intense. The inner turmoil is less but part of me wants to hold onto it because I want change. I don’t want to be this way. I want things to be different and thus want to hol

Yesterday Thomas celebrated his 65th birthday – or perhaps I should say the kids celebrated for him. PM has been very into birthdays this year. Of course the year started off with his sister’s birthday on January 2nd. For the next two months he was preparing for his own. On a regular basis he would get some boxes, fill them up with toys or objects, tape up the boxes, and write names on them. Then we would be invited to a b-day party where he would prepare a meal with cake (with the birthday song) and then the opening of the gifts. Alternatively he would bring the boxes to T’s office where he and LB would open their boxes. For LB’s birthday we made party hats. PM didn’t have any for his but there were so many other things he didn’t miss them. For Thomas’ birthday they made party hats, PM wrote a birthday banner and made sure his dad was celebrated and the center of his attention. As T put it – he thinks PM enjoyed his birthday more than he did. Well I think they all liked the h

I’ve been saying for over a year now that I need to get blinds for the bedroom. The time change means the kids are going to bed when it’s still light out. Thanks to the help of two of my sisters and mother I finally have the material ready to get some blinds set up. Of course this sits around here for weeks before I finally get around to putting up the brackets for the blinds (this is after being told repeatedly by Olivia that doing blinds yourself is quick and easy). I tell Thomas that I am going to take the drill upstairs to get the brackets in. I can see the look going across his face – can’t quite translate it but something like ‘what is she trying to do now?’. Armed with brackets, drill, screws, screwdriver, pencil, and measuring tape I head upstairs with my trusted assistants helping to carry the tools. While they enjoy jumping around on the bed and handing me bits ever so often (with PM’s help to explain the drill to me) I manage to the holes put in (twice for one as the f

We were at a life learning/unschooling conference this weekend (more on that later perhaps). The kids and I used the washroom in the hotel just before leaving, washed our hands and then I stepped around the corner to pick up our bags to leave. I come back and there is LB standing by the sink with her arms around someone’s legs. Black pants like mine. The woman was even wearing a pink shirt as was I (though they were in no other way similar). LB sees me coming around the corner and a look comes across her face or perhaps more of an energy as she slowly looks up to the woman whose legs she is holding onto and then back to me. I feel so bad that I laugh about this as I imagine it was quite the shock for her but oh at a time when I am feeling quite overwhelmed and upset it has given me many a laugh. The woman was very good about it and noticed but didn’t want to say anything to upset LB. As we were leaving the washroom LB just kept looking at this woman – I can only imagine what was