Often in this house it feels like all I'm listening to is a constant stream of toddler whines. Sure, there are happy moments and times of laughter, but those fussy, whiney cries of discontent can so quickly drown out all the happy noises. It's exhausting.
I'm trying to find the balance between being strictly authoritative and leading by being calm. Both ways can achieve accurately communicating that that's not how we express ourselves in this house, but they're totally different approaches. The first feels to me like a stiff and intolerant method. Roscoe gets whiney, and I turn into an order-barking porcupine. "You stop that whining right now." Bam. That's it. No wiggle room, no discussion. The second method looks more like: roscoe gets whiney, and I approach him lovingly, gently; put him on my lap and calmly (firmly, yes, but serenely) convey that we don't whine our words. That he is welcome to always tell me how he feels, what he is thinking, but without whining. We as his parents are always here to listen and talk things through. There is no "porcupine" feeling here. I am being completely approachable, nothing to fear.
I believe both methods have their right place. When I say I want to calmly, lovingly instruct him, I'm not saying that I let him walk all over me. Yes, I am the parent and he is the child. I get that. I know there are times when the firm "put the foot down, don't stand for anything else" approach is necessary, but should that be the case every. single. time.? Can't we communicate and instruct our children without barking orders all day long?
Does any of this make sense? I've heard that every child responds to different methods of teaching and correction differently, I'm just trying to figure out how mine is wired in this area. And it's a challenge, considering he's a toddler who can't yet communicate with words, only whining--the very thing I'm trying to correct.
Advice?
Friday, November 30, 2012
Friday, November 16, 2012
Hard to say goodbye
Sherman Lee Grant.
Goodness. He was such a good boy. I met Sherman when I met Mark a little over 6 years ago. Those 2 were a package deal. I wasn't much of a dog person then, to be honest with you, but that guy had a way of winning everyone over. He was full of excitement and energy and life. Even if you were having the worst day of your life, walk in the door and he'd be standing there, tail wagging, overjoyed that you came home. He was never not excited to see you. Even to the last day of his life, when we knew he was in pain, we could approach him with the usual "who's a good boy...." and that tail would start twitching.
There will be more dogs, but there will never be another Sherman. I don't even care if you as a reader think this sounds stupid.... But I am so thankful to God that he gave Mark the gift of Sherman when he did. That dog was right beside Mark through a bad bad bad (but oh so fortunate for us all) breakup with his ex, the death of 3 of his 4 grandparents, not to mention just the plain everyday struggles and frustrations of life.
He sensed things. When I was pregnant with Roscoe, that was when we really started to bond more than ever before. He would come to my side of the bed every morning (after his morning visit with Mark, of course---priorities!) and cuddle against my chest, often placing his paw on my large belly. I remember specifically one time that Roscoe pushed against that paw from the inside, and Sherman just looked down and pushed back against Roscoe. And those 2 were best buds from Roscoe's birth. Thankfully right now I think Roscoe is just the right age to not really know what's going on, or why Sherman isn't here, though he does miss him. Often during the day, even though Buddy is still here right now, Roscoe will walk through the house and say "Doggie! Doooooggie? Doggie..." It definitely breaks this mama's heart.
But it was his time. That's what comforts us most right now. He's not suffering anymore! About 3 months ago, he just started acting so old so suddenly. Mostly joint pain, but we had some medicine to give him. He seemed to respond to that and antibiotics, and was still eating and acting normal. He just seemed like an older dog. But over time, it got harder and harder for him to get up and down the stairs, and he started falling more often when he was trying to get up and down.
What's frustrating to me is that he had gotten so much better a couple weeks ago. Mark had to be gone for military duty for 1 week, and I was nervous about what was going to happen to Sherman while he was gone. But to our surprise, he improved. That was at the beginning of this month.
But starting about a week ago, he plummeted downhill. He stopped eating, wasn't drinking much, wasn't motivated to get up in the morning (sometimes lying in the same spot until noon or later, when he needed help getting up to go to the bathroom). We went to hang out with friends as usual Sunday night, and when we got home around 11 pm, he was lying by my side of the bed and wouldn't get up. Normally both dogs sleep in the office, but that night we just covered him up where he was. He didn't get up Monday morning, and when he hadn't gotten up by noon Mark made the painful statement that if he didn't get up by evening, we were going to have to call the vet and most likely put him down. There had been talk before about "if he gets much worse we'll have to put him down" but never on a time frame like that.
Oh if I could have willed him to move! I was sending him all the "GET UP!!" vibes that I could. I didn't like what was staring us in the face. See, I've never been through this part of pet ownership before. It sucks. I remember our family having a cat when I was very little, but I guess children are a little more resilient and bounce back pretty quickly. So when Simon the cat died, that was the last pet I had until Mark and I got married.
Sherman finally got up with Mark's help Monday night when we were going to bed, around 11 pm. 24 hours with no food, water, bathroom breaks...nothing. He ate about 3 bites of food and drank a good bit of water. Mark took him outside and when he came back in he said Sherman fell 2x while trying to pee. His muscle strength was just gone.
He went to bed and Tuesday morning rolled around. I wasn't exactly sure what was going on, and was asking Mark what we were going to do. I could tell it was killing him and that it was a hard decision to make, so I decided (knowing my husband and the way he handles things best) to scoop up Roscoe and head to spend the day with my parents so we were out of Mark's hair and he could handle it however it needed to be done--on his own.
Mark's dad came to the house to have lunch with him, and during that time I guess the decision was made that it was, for certain, time to let Sherman go--for his sake. I got a text from Mark around lunchtime that he was going to take Sherman in at 2:40.
Sherman's normal weight was around 75 pounds, never below 70. He tipped the scales that afternoon at a whopping 50 something. To our comfort, when the vet came into the room where Mark and Sherman were, she immediately said "this isn't the same Sherman you kenneled here 2 years ago is it?!" And she proceeded to fervently agree with the decision as she was examining him. She said that he had something else going on when she felt his stomach--it was like rocks. With Sherman's age (turning 8 in the spring), she said that her advice would be to put him down. Sure, there were probably oodles of test and things we could run, and then lots of medication we could have put him on. For what? To *maybe* give him another year? Nah, he wasn't happy anymore. He was ready to go. That full-of-life, sometimes too excited weimer was in too much pain to make him deal with it anymore.
Mark hasn't told me this, and I'm not saying I know how his mind works, but I'm venturing to guess that this is the hardest decision he has had ever to make. Sherman was more than just a dog to him, more than just a pet. I swear those 2 had a secret language that only they understood.
As for now--Sherman is buried in our backyard. We'll probably get him a nice marker. Mark is doing ok, considering. Yes, it hurts, yes, he grieves. Daytime isn't too bad. But evenings get difficult. (What is it about the sun going down that makes things more difficult to handle?) Buddy seems confused. Roscoe doesn't seem to notice much, aside from the occasional "doggie?" and search through the house. And, yes, even I, the "don't have to have a dog" kinda person, am frequently sad throughout the day, wishing I could go in to Sherman's bed and give him some attention and love. I never knew the absence of a pet could create such an emptiness in a house. I guess a good word to wrap up the way we feel is "raw."
Realizing that this isn't a bad dream. That it was Sherman's time to go. That he had a good life. And that our lives were better having him than if we hadn't. So, yes, there's pain. And it's not easy. But even so, we don't for one second regret that he was ours for the time that he was.
Rest in peace, Sherman. You're a good boy. And we miss you like crazy.
Goodness. He was such a good boy. I met Sherman when I met Mark a little over 6 years ago. Those 2 were a package deal. I wasn't much of a dog person then, to be honest with you, but that guy had a way of winning everyone over. He was full of excitement and energy and life. Even if you were having the worst day of your life, walk in the door and he'd be standing there, tail wagging, overjoyed that you came home. He was never not excited to see you. Even to the last day of his life, when we knew he was in pain, we could approach him with the usual "who's a good boy...." and that tail would start twitching.
There will be more dogs, but there will never be another Sherman. I don't even care if you as a reader think this sounds stupid.... But I am so thankful to God that he gave Mark the gift of Sherman when he did. That dog was right beside Mark through a bad bad bad (but oh so fortunate for us all) breakup with his ex, the death of 3 of his 4 grandparents, not to mention just the plain everyday struggles and frustrations of life.
He sensed things. When I was pregnant with Roscoe, that was when we really started to bond more than ever before. He would come to my side of the bed every morning (after his morning visit with Mark, of course---priorities!) and cuddle against my chest, often placing his paw on my large belly. I remember specifically one time that Roscoe pushed against that paw from the inside, and Sherman just looked down and pushed back against Roscoe. And those 2 were best buds from Roscoe's birth. Thankfully right now I think Roscoe is just the right age to not really know what's going on, or why Sherman isn't here, though he does miss him. Often during the day, even though Buddy is still here right now, Roscoe will walk through the house and say "Doggie! Doooooggie? Doggie..." It definitely breaks this mama's heart.
But it was his time. That's what comforts us most right now. He's not suffering anymore! About 3 months ago, he just started acting so old so suddenly. Mostly joint pain, but we had some medicine to give him. He seemed to respond to that and antibiotics, and was still eating and acting normal. He just seemed like an older dog. But over time, it got harder and harder for him to get up and down the stairs, and he started falling more often when he was trying to get up and down.
What's frustrating to me is that he had gotten so much better a couple weeks ago. Mark had to be gone for military duty for 1 week, and I was nervous about what was going to happen to Sherman while he was gone. But to our surprise, he improved. That was at the beginning of this month.
But starting about a week ago, he plummeted downhill. He stopped eating, wasn't drinking much, wasn't motivated to get up in the morning (sometimes lying in the same spot until noon or later, when he needed help getting up to go to the bathroom). We went to hang out with friends as usual Sunday night, and when we got home around 11 pm, he was lying by my side of the bed and wouldn't get up. Normally both dogs sleep in the office, but that night we just covered him up where he was. He didn't get up Monday morning, and when he hadn't gotten up by noon Mark made the painful statement that if he didn't get up by evening, we were going to have to call the vet and most likely put him down. There had been talk before about "if he gets much worse we'll have to put him down" but never on a time frame like that.
Oh if I could have willed him to move! I was sending him all the "GET UP!!" vibes that I could. I didn't like what was staring us in the face. See, I've never been through this part of pet ownership before. It sucks. I remember our family having a cat when I was very little, but I guess children are a little more resilient and bounce back pretty quickly. So when Simon the cat died, that was the last pet I had until Mark and I got married.
Sherman finally got up with Mark's help Monday night when we were going to bed, around 11 pm. 24 hours with no food, water, bathroom breaks...nothing. He ate about 3 bites of food and drank a good bit of water. Mark took him outside and when he came back in he said Sherman fell 2x while trying to pee. His muscle strength was just gone.
He went to bed and Tuesday morning rolled around. I wasn't exactly sure what was going on, and was asking Mark what we were going to do. I could tell it was killing him and that it was a hard decision to make, so I decided (knowing my husband and the way he handles things best) to scoop up Roscoe and head to spend the day with my parents so we were out of Mark's hair and he could handle it however it needed to be done--on his own.
Sherman's normal weight was around 75 pounds, never below 70. He tipped the scales that afternoon at a whopping 50 something. To our comfort, when the vet came into the room where Mark and Sherman were, she immediately said "this isn't the same Sherman you kenneled here 2 years ago is it?!" And she proceeded to fervently agree with the decision as she was examining him. She said that he had something else going on when she felt his stomach--it was like rocks. With Sherman's age (turning 8 in the spring), she said that her advice would be to put him down. Sure, there were probably oodles of test and things we could run, and then lots of medication we could have put him on. For what? To *maybe* give him another year? Nah, he wasn't happy anymore. He was ready to go. That full-of-life, sometimes too excited weimer was in too much pain to make him deal with it anymore.
Mark hasn't told me this, and I'm not saying I know how his mind works, but I'm venturing to guess that this is the hardest decision he has had ever to make. Sherman was more than just a dog to him, more than just a pet. I swear those 2 had a secret language that only they understood.
As for now--Sherman is buried in our backyard. We'll probably get him a nice marker. Mark is doing ok, considering. Yes, it hurts, yes, he grieves. Daytime isn't too bad. But evenings get difficult. (What is it about the sun going down that makes things more difficult to handle?) Buddy seems confused. Roscoe doesn't seem to notice much, aside from the occasional "doggie?" and search through the house. And, yes, even I, the "don't have to have a dog" kinda person, am frequently sad throughout the day, wishing I could go in to Sherman's bed and give him some attention and love. I never knew the absence of a pet could create such an emptiness in a house. I guess a good word to wrap up the way we feel is "raw."
Realizing that this isn't a bad dream. That it was Sherman's time to go. That he had a good life. And that our lives were better having him than if we hadn't. So, yes, there's pain. And it's not easy. But even so, we don't for one second regret that he was ours for the time that he was.
Rest in peace, Sherman. You're a good boy. And we miss you like crazy.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
catch up and announcement
It's been so long since I've updated because I don't know how to blog without including a big part of what's going on in my life. I guess if I'm going to write about my life here, and I've got something I'm not ready to share yet, it's hard to write anything at all.
So with that said, if you don't know this already, baby #2 is on the way! We're thrilled. I'm due around the beginning of February, and Roscoe's birthday is February 13, so they'll be 2 years apart, which is what we originally wanted when we first started discussing having children.
Just another week or so of 1st trimester, which excites me beyond what I can express. I'm ready for energy to return for sure. The sickness this time only seemed to be hard-core for about a month, whereas with Roscoe it was all day every day for the first trimester, with throwing up at least once a day. But I could literally lie around all. day. long.
Are we wanting a girl? Well, of course. We would both love to have a daughter, but I'm trying not to think about it too much because I know I would be totally in love with another little guy as well. I don't want to get all hyped up for a girl only to find out it's a boy and have to deal with a guilty feeling of disappointment. A baby is a gift no matter what gender, health, etc. Besides, we won't find that out until the end of October anyway, so that's too far away to be thinking about right now.
I did have to temporarily abandon the "no 'poo" experiment. I went without using shampoo for a solid 3 months, substituting baking soda for it. But my hormone levels went so crazy at the beginning of this pregnancy that I couldn't take the oily-ness anymore and couldn't seem to trouble shoot it. So I'm back to using shampoo for the moment. Bleh. Oh well, I'll get back to it again. (But see, I didn't know how to update about that when I made that change...without saying "I had to start using shampoo again because my hair got so greasy because WE'RE GOING TO HAVE ANOTHER BABY.")
Oh, and just to explain, we wanted to wait a bit to announce the pregnancy because sometimes pregnancies can seem soooo looooong when they're announced early. If we kept it a secret for a month or so, our theory is that it would make it feel a little faster. We'll see if that worked...
Roscoe is being my little sweetheart these days. I often get a few visits from him while he's playing--just so he can cuddle and smile with me for about 15 seconds before he tears off again. It's so nice to be able to experience a child learning to give/receive love. I know I'm just going to die when he reaches the age to tell me he loves me.
So with that said, if you don't know this already, baby #2 is on the way! We're thrilled. I'm due around the beginning of February, and Roscoe's birthday is February 13, so they'll be 2 years apart, which is what we originally wanted when we first started discussing having children.
Just another week or so of 1st trimester, which excites me beyond what I can express. I'm ready for energy to return for sure. The sickness this time only seemed to be hard-core for about a month, whereas with Roscoe it was all day every day for the first trimester, with throwing up at least once a day. But I could literally lie around all. day. long.
Are we wanting a girl? Well, of course. We would both love to have a daughter, but I'm trying not to think about it too much because I know I would be totally in love with another little guy as well. I don't want to get all hyped up for a girl only to find out it's a boy and have to deal with a guilty feeling of disappointment. A baby is a gift no matter what gender, health, etc. Besides, we won't find that out until the end of October anyway, so that's too far away to be thinking about right now.
I did have to temporarily abandon the "no 'poo" experiment. I went without using shampoo for a solid 3 months, substituting baking soda for it. But my hormone levels went so crazy at the beginning of this pregnancy that I couldn't take the oily-ness anymore and couldn't seem to trouble shoot it. So I'm back to using shampoo for the moment. Bleh. Oh well, I'll get back to it again. (But see, I didn't know how to update about that when I made that change...without saying "I had to start using shampoo again because my hair got so greasy because WE'RE GOING TO HAVE ANOTHER BABY.")
Oh, and just to explain, we wanted to wait a bit to announce the pregnancy because sometimes pregnancies can seem soooo looooong when they're announced early. If we kept it a secret for a month or so, our theory is that it would make it feel a little faster. We'll see if that worked...
Roscoe is being my little sweetheart these days. I often get a few visits from him while he's playing--just so he can cuddle and smile with me for about 15 seconds before he tears off again. It's so nice to be able to experience a child learning to give/receive love. I know I'm just going to die when he reaches the age to tell me he loves me.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
a better day
I am currently thankful that, despite a few episodes, today was pretty much a normal, fit/tantrum free day for the little guy. I did notice that I was focusing more attention on him, putting the iPhone away, and not trying to multitask so much when he was wanting to play with me. I'm not sure if that's what made the difference or not. But it did take a lot of effort. To be honest, keeping up with him wears me out! He's absolutely exhausting.
He's been in bed almost an hour, and I've been sitting in the silence trying to upload pictures from the beach. Apparently I'm running low on disc space on the laptop, so we need to clean the computer out before I can get those pictures in and uploaded here.
He's been in bed almost an hour, and I've been sitting in the silence trying to upload pictures from the beach. Apparently I'm running low on disc space on the laptop, so we need to clean the computer out before I can get those pictures in and uploaded here.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
when the little one seems too big
I've been struggling with Roscoe. It seems like the "terrible 2s" have arrived early. More like the "terrible pre-18months," only the tantrums and fits seem to be directed mostly at me.
I just got off the phone with Mark about this, and he was encouraging (as encouraging as he can be, because this is not an easy phase for me)... But I thought I'd get my thoughts out, let you into my head, try to relinquish my stubborn "I-can-do-it-myself" childlikeness, and make myself open to suggestions and advice.
Roscoe has always had a tendency to pitch a fit. That started when he was tinier than tiny. But those fits used to be easily corrected (easily enough). He responded to our correction. Now, he's putting up really really big fights. His temper is...just right there....right under the surface ready to explode. And when he doesn't get what he wants, BOOM!!!!!!
Without giving examples, I'll say that 90% of the time, with words and facial expressions Mark can correct him and get the desired response. It isn't easy, but it works. The other 10% of the time that Mark handles it, it takes more effort.
I feel like the numbers are reversed for me. For whatever reason, my 90% is full of frustration and failure, where on my end I'm receiving abuse and anger from my own son...my 15 month old son. Often he gets angry at me and screams in my face multiple times, sometimes throwing a hit in there. Discipline doesn't seem to phase him, so it just turns into a seemingly endless cycle of whining, fussing, screaming, correction, wash, rinse, repeat.
I think what is the hardest for me is that all I feel that I do is pour love into him. I feed him. I play with him. I bathe him. I change his diapers. I wash his diapers. I tuck him in bed. He is my job, he's what I am employed to care for 24/7.
And he returns that with consistent tantrums and ungratefulness?
Another frustrating factor is that I generally stay calm and even-keeled. He's not feeding off my temper because I'm not releasing a temper.
So, I know that this is really something that all moms have to deal with. I've had multiple family members/friends tell me that when daddy comes home, the babes are angels. But God help the mother during the day, because those same babes are running around like demons.
So how do we deal with it? How do you keep control of your child when it seems like everything you do is a failure? How do you handle the emotional let down of wanting to receive love back from your child and the bulk of what you see returned to you is negativity?
Moms, speak...
I just got off the phone with Mark about this, and he was encouraging (as encouraging as he can be, because this is not an easy phase for me)... But I thought I'd get my thoughts out, let you into my head, try to relinquish my stubborn "I-can-do-it-myself" childlikeness, and make myself open to suggestions and advice.
Roscoe has always had a tendency to pitch a fit. That started when he was tinier than tiny. But those fits used to be easily corrected (easily enough). He responded to our correction. Now, he's putting up really really big fights. His temper is...just right there....right under the surface ready to explode. And when he doesn't get what he wants, BOOM!!!!!!
Without giving examples, I'll say that 90% of the time, with words and facial expressions Mark can correct him and get the desired response. It isn't easy, but it works. The other 10% of the time that Mark handles it, it takes more effort.
I feel like the numbers are reversed for me. For whatever reason, my 90% is full of frustration and failure, where on my end I'm receiving abuse and anger from my own son...my 15 month old son. Often he gets angry at me and screams in my face multiple times, sometimes throwing a hit in there. Discipline doesn't seem to phase him, so it just turns into a seemingly endless cycle of whining, fussing, screaming, correction, wash, rinse, repeat.
I think what is the hardest for me is that all I feel that I do is pour love into him. I feed him. I play with him. I bathe him. I change his diapers. I wash his diapers. I tuck him in bed. He is my job, he's what I am employed to care for 24/7.
And he returns that with consistent tantrums and ungratefulness?
Another frustrating factor is that I generally stay calm and even-keeled. He's not feeding off my temper because I'm not releasing a temper.
So, I know that this is really something that all moms have to deal with. I've had multiple family members/friends tell me that when daddy comes home, the babes are angels. But God help the mother during the day, because those same babes are running around like demons.
So how do we deal with it? How do you keep control of your child when it seems like everything you do is a failure? How do you handle the emotional let down of wanting to receive love back from your child and the bulk of what you see returned to you is negativity?
Moms, speak...
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
He is always this non-stop
...but not always this fast.
Thanks for another video of my little wind-up toy, Mom!
Thanks for another video of my little wind-up toy, Mom!
Saturday, May 12, 2012
the technical (but not official) first haircut
For a few weeks now, we've been having to constantly brush the hair out of Roscoe's eyes, because he doesn't quite have the knack of doing it himself. But we love it so much that we don't want to cut it all off yet.
So tonight I got up the nerve to do it. I don't know how I succeeded, considering that Roscoe never stops moving when he's awake. But it's done. Hair trimmed, eyes clear of obstruction. Remainder of the locks fully in tact.
So technically? Yes, he's had a hair cut (like, 80 of them) (ok more than that). But is this as big a deal as the oh my goodness you look like a kid now not a baby haircut? No.
Good grief.... Even that little half an inch makes all the difference.
So tonight I got up the nerve to do it. I don't know how I succeeded, considering that Roscoe never stops moving when he's awake. But it's done. Hair trimmed, eyes clear of obstruction. Remainder of the locks fully in tact.
So technically? Yes, he's had a hair cut (like, 80 of them) (ok more than that). But is this as big a deal as the oh my goodness you look like a kid now not a baby haircut? No.
Good grief.... Even that little half an inch makes all the difference.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
In case you need to smile...
This video brought to you by my mother, who once again got creative with a fun video she took while babysitting.
This is what happens when you put a full plate ofspaghetti vermicelli noodles in front of Roscoe. Thanks, mom! Cracks me up.
This is what happens when you put a full plate of
Sunday, April 22, 2012
A nice surprise
Mark just called me about an hour ago to let me know he was driving home. Rarely does he get to start his 10 hour drive home before noon, and most commonly it's about 2 or 3 pm. What a nice surprise! The only problem is I thought I had all day to get the house cleaned to my "Mark's-homecoming-specifications." In reality I have about 3.5 hours. Good thing we have a less than 900 sq ft home!
Friday, April 20, 2012
Things I love about right now...this moment
My cup of coffee.
Going into the bathroom and almost tripping over a toy that doesn't belong.
Hearing the defeated cry that follows after the thud from an object being thrown/dropped from the crib.
A just-chilly-enough house for sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt.
Looking around and seeing clear evidence of a child living with me.
Going into the bathroom and almost tripping over a toy that doesn't belong.
Hearing the defeated cry that follows after the thud from an object being thrown/dropped from the crib.
A just-chilly-enough house for sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt.
Looking around and seeing clear evidence of a child living with me.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Grant porch renovation
The long-awaited before/after of Mark's parents' front porch.
The porch needed help on so many levels. It was dreadfully narrow, covered in nasty carpet-ish miniature golf course-like fabric. And those steps. Please look at those steps. How a woman who has gone through so many knee problems, including surgery, got up and down those steps day in and day out is beyond me. Props to Sherri for being such a patient good sport as she eagerly waited for a better way to get inside her house.
BAM! That's the kind of art my husband can pull off. That man never ceases to amaze me. He can take any idea and turn it into a reality. Notice where the porch ended before. They (Mark and Tim) added 2 feet to the original width. And 6 evenly spaced steps with sturdy handrails replace the 3 different sized steps with no handrail.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
rewarding life changes
For me, it all started with my burning desire to hire a midwife to assist me in a natural birth.
Once I did that, I slowly started becoming more aware of the little areas in life where some changes could be made.
Cloth diapers, organic foods, cleaning supplies, body care/toiletries.
And let me tell you, these changes are some of the most rewarding tasks I've set out on.
Now everything I look at is through the filter of how can I take care of this without any chemicals, or rather how can I take care of this using only the things God made, not the things man tweaked.
The hardest BY FAR has been cleaning supplies. I'm just now really getting in to that one. But it's hard to come to grips with the fact that *Clean doesn't have to smell like something. Clean smells like nothing.* I love me some scented cleaning supplies. But then I turn the bottle and look at the ingredients and see all sorts of warnings about skin contact and eye irritation and DO NOT, WHATEVER YOU DO, INGEST THIS, and I think wait a second. If these things are dangerous to our bodies, why am I cleaning with them? I know I can use lemon and lavender (etc) essential oils to give the house a "clean scent," but it's just hard to let go of that Clorox Green Works.
Anyway, bottom line is that I stand beside each of my decisions regarding the care of my house, family, and our bodies--convinced that they are the choices God has led me to, and that they are right. That doesn't mean that I expect everyone to come to the same choices (though I would certainly love to see that kind of revolution).
Details later, maybe?
But for now I am quite certain that given the chance, I could conquer the world with coconut oil and baking soda.
Once I did that, I slowly started becoming more aware of the little areas in life where some changes could be made.
Cloth diapers, organic foods, cleaning supplies, body care/toiletries.
And let me tell you, these changes are some of the most rewarding tasks I've set out on.
Now everything I look at is through the filter of how can I take care of this without any chemicals, or rather how can I take care of this using only the things God made, not the things man tweaked.
The hardest BY FAR has been cleaning supplies. I'm just now really getting in to that one. But it's hard to come to grips with the fact that *Clean doesn't have to smell like something. Clean smells like nothing.* I love me some scented cleaning supplies. But then I turn the bottle and look at the ingredients and see all sorts of warnings about skin contact and eye irritation and DO NOT, WHATEVER YOU DO, INGEST THIS, and I think wait a second. If these things are dangerous to our bodies, why am I cleaning with them? I know I can use lemon and lavender (etc) essential oils to give the house a "clean scent," but it's just hard to let go of that Clorox Green Works.
Anyway, bottom line is that I stand beside each of my decisions regarding the care of my house, family, and our bodies--convinced that they are the choices God has led me to, and that they are right. That doesn't mean that I expect everyone to come to the same choices (though I would certainly love to see that kind of revolution).
Details later, maybe?
But for now I am quite certain that given the chance, I could conquer the world with coconut oil and baking soda.
Friday, April 13, 2012
friday park visit
Roscoe is sooooound asleep right now. He missed his morning nap and then we spent the whole day out and around, getting home from the park around 4:15. So thankful for family that lives close.
Nana, Roscoe, Papa, and Eliot
Eliot's favorite person ever is Papa. Hands down.
Peekaboo with Aunt Bethy
Liam. A child's life.
Distracted mid-swing. (joking) (he's not that strong yet)
To think that Roscoe used to be afraid of him...
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Felted wool dryer balls
A few months ago my mom asked me what kind of fabric softener I used, because she had just found a tutorial for making fabric-softener-like wool balls (you'll see). I proceeded to boast in the fact that I didn't need fabric softener. Rarely did our clothes wrinkle, and there was never a problem with static.
Don't speak so proudly unless you're prepared for Murphy's Law to come punch you in the face.
It wasn't 2 days later that the static electricity in our clothes was so bad that the hairs on my arms would stand up straight as I attempted to fold laundry.
I really don't want to use fabric softener (liquid or sheets). Liquid because I don't want any residue in the washer (it'll coat the fibers of the cloth diapers and cause them to hold undesirable scents) and sheets because those tend to create a waxy buildup in the lint trap of the dryer, reducing its effectiveness, and there are chemicals in it and I'm really trying to go as chemical-free in this house as possible.
So I talked to mom about what she did and I found this cool little tutorial (very similar to what she described).
Here's how it looked for me:
So the run-down of how it works is that the wool soaks in most of the moisture from your load of clothes and evenly disperses it throughout the dryer, so it stays more humid throughout the dryer during the drying time, reducing the potential for static electricity. And I've noticed that I can have the heat setting on medium instead of high, and my clothes still dry faster than before, with no wrinkling.
I'm not sure if these are going to last as long as the ones in the original tutorial. She said they can last up to 5 years. I think I forgot to put my washing machine on the hot setting when I washed them, so that could be the reason. But so far, 12 loads in and they're doing great!
What I spent: $3
1) wool jacket from the closet: $0
2) yarn from Hobby Lobby with 40% off coupon: $3
3) roving from my mom (she gave me her extra): $0
Don't speak so proudly unless you're prepared for Murphy's Law to come punch you in the face.
It wasn't 2 days later that the static electricity in our clothes was so bad that the hairs on my arms would stand up straight as I attempted to fold laundry.
I really don't want to use fabric softener (liquid or sheets). Liquid because I don't want any residue in the washer (it'll coat the fibers of the cloth diapers and cause them to hold undesirable scents) and sheets because those tend to create a waxy buildup in the lint trap of the dryer, reducing its effectiveness, and there are chemicals in it and I'm really trying to go as chemical-free in this house as possible.
So I talked to mom about what she did and I found this cool little tutorial (very similar to what she described).
Here's how it looked for me:
An old, unlined, uncomfortably scratchy, oddly fitting wool jacket that I bought for $5 a few years ago and may have worn twice. A scane (sp?) of 100% wool yarn, and wool roving.
Cut the fabric into strips and begin to form a ball out of it.
Tightly wrap the yarn around the wool ball.
And then the roving around the yarn. A word to perfectionists: it may not really resemble a perfect ball shape yet. I had a hard time with this because I desperately wanted to make it perfect, but it's nearly impossible to. But no fear...
You then stuff the balls into a pantyhose leg. Tie each one separately and tightly. Then run them through a hot cycle in the washing machine and dry them completely. This is the how the wool felts. After they came out of the dryer, I cut mine out of the pantyhose and decided to re-stuff them into another pantyhose leg and repeat the washing/drying step. Then after they came out of the dryer the 2nd time, they were felted and beautiful.
That's it! They're ready to go. Just pop them in the dryer for each load of clothes. I forgot to take an after picture right when I completed the project, so this one's from about a dozen dryer loads of use.
So the run-down of how it works is that the wool soaks in most of the moisture from your load of clothes and evenly disperses it throughout the dryer, so it stays more humid throughout the dryer during the drying time, reducing the potential for static electricity. And I've noticed that I can have the heat setting on medium instead of high, and my clothes still dry faster than before, with no wrinkling.
I'm not sure if these are going to last as long as the ones in the original tutorial. She said they can last up to 5 years. I think I forgot to put my washing machine on the hot setting when I washed them, so that could be the reason. But so far, 12 loads in and they're doing great!
What I spent: $3
1) wool jacket from the closet: $0
2) yarn from Hobby Lobby with 40% off coupon: $3
3) roving from my mom (she gave me her extra): $0
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
playground shots
I went to the park downtown today to get some exercise. It's hard to pass up on a day this beautiful. On the way back to the car I decided to stop and let Roscoe walk around on the playground. For the most part, he has officially chosen walking over crawling as his method of transportation. And, oh, the things that is introducing into his little world.
look closely
mid-walking
mid-walking, part 2
So happy with this shot that I captured as he breezed past me. That profile!!!
all tuckered out, getting some blanket cuddles
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)