good morning starshine...

Did you ever wonder what mornings are like in the Bloom household?  Today I'm going to give you a glimpse.

 

Our school days start with me barging into the bedrooms of my boys -- first the small one, then the larger one -- and flinging open the curtains.  My barging is usually accompanied by a song which has been popular around here for many years:
  

Good morning dear earth,

Good morning dear sun.

Good morning dear stones,

and the flowers, every one.

Good morning dear beasts,

and the birds in the trees.

Good morning to you,

and good morning to me.

...and if the cat is following me from room to room (which he usually is) I also sing "good morning to kitty's fleas."

For occasional variation I sing THIS SONG, THIS SONG, or my favorite from summers at sleep-away camp:

Good morning to you! Good morning to you!

You look kind of drowsy, in fact you look lousy.

Good morning to you! Good morning to you!

You look kind of sleepy, in fact you look creepy.

However, Tuesday was the first day of school for my boys, and I came up with a whole new way to torment my family.

I'm not sure why, of all possible mornings, I was suddenly inspired to sing this song... but there you go. And why do I seem to know most of the words by heart?  That's another mystery altogether.  ("Gliddy glub gloopy/Nibby nabby noopy/La la la lo lo/Sabba sibby sabba/Nooby abba nabba/Le le lo lo..." Good lord.)

Next week I might sing this song (my favorite part starts at around 2 minutes, 20 seconds). My younger son and the cat like the newly added song in my morning repertoire.  My husband and older son are investing in stock with companies which manufacture earplugs.

And lest you think it's otherwise all bluebirds and sunshine in my house every morning, allow me to disabuse you of that notion.  After the singing, it's all downhill.  Everyone jostles in our our small kitchen (including the cat who is inevitably underfoot, and complains when he's shifted out of the way) to throw together hasty breakfasts and pack lunches.  I get distracted reading the comics section of the newspaper until my husband points out that I should probably get moving, which sends me dashing upstairs to change out of pajamas with reminders flung over my shoulder to please hurry with shoes & socks, and then we're all barreling out the door.

Do you have any favorite morning routines?  Any special or unique ways you like to torment your family? Do tell!

catastrophic happiness & fear of flying

On Sunday morning, I opened up the SF Chronicle Books section (yes, we still read a "paper" paper in my house) and was awfully pleased to see a photo of Catherine Newman along with this review of her recently published collection of essays. ("Good morning, Catherine. Would you like some coffee?")

Catherine's work is regularly published in Real Simple Magazine, Oprah, Brain Child, the NYT parenting blog Motherlode, and you can read a recent essay over at Motherwell Magazine.  Her essays are fierce, wise, poignant & funny all at once; this quote, included by Malena Watrous in the SF Chronicle review, is vivid and evocative in a way that seems particular and specific to Catherine's writing.

“Cut me open and I’m a tree trunk, rings of nostalgia radiating inward. All the years are nested inside me like I’m my own personal one-woman matryoshka doll. I guess that’s true for everybody, but then I drive everybody crazy with my nostalgia and happiness. I am bittersweet personified.”

Warning :: I loved this book so very much, and also mailed a copy of it to my mother for her birthday (which is tomorrow). However, if you have a Fear of Flying (and I'm not referring to the Erica Jong novel), do not read this book while cruising at 35,000 feet with a warm, soft child curled up on either side of you.  This book makes one so very aware of the preciousness and fragility of those very children; and hurtling through the heavens while reading Catherine's book, with nothing but clouds between my babies and the earth was nearly too much to bear.

a landmark day

 Yesterday was a landmark day...

  My kindergartner learned to ride his bicycle without training wheels!

And just because he's adorable, here's a photo of my big son up a tree. (Did you know that boys grow on trees? Mine do.)  I don't get many photos of him these days; he's busy tromping around with his group of lanky friends who, in the fashion of Hansel and Gretel, rummage around my kitchen and then leave trails of crumbs behind them, as though they might need guidance finding their way back to the food cupboards for more snacks (and in sisyphean fashion, I follow after them, thrusting brooms and dustpans into their enormous, grubby hands, while enduring their bewildered looks with good humor).

And don't forget -- tomorrow is the final day to add your name to the give-away for this charming book.  Details can be found HERE.

bloom boys

It's been a while since I've written a proper blog post -- not just posted photos, but written actual paragraphs.  There have been some fluctuations in the land of Bloom so it feels like a good time to chatter. Here goes...

Do you ever read the acknowledgement sections at ends of books?  I always read them because I'm curious whom the author will thank and how they will thank them.  I'm not sure when my curiosity about author's acknowledgements started -- was it before or after I had written an acknowledgement section of my own?  At any rate, have you ever taken a look at the acknowledgement section in my first book?  The first person I thank is my younger son.  Why?  I never could have written that book unless he was a prodigious sleeper: 10-11 hours every night and 3 hours every afternoon. It was during those hours in the afternoon when I got most of my work done... but guess who stopped sleeping in the afternoon 3 months ago? Of course it was bound to happen, but now I'm sorely missing time for focused work and feel like I haven't had two consecutive moments in which to string together a coherent thought.  Meanwhile, my afternoons (and kitchen table) are filled with endless perler beads (glow-in-the-dark), pony beads (glow-in-the-dark), sculpy clay (glow-in-the-dark!), Spirograph (we have this set and this set), water colors, plus crayons and other drawing implements of every sort.  Even the occasional peg doll has been painted, however I still haven't finished the proposal for book number 3... sigh. 

Besides our fun afternoons, the upside is we are now able to undertake more ambitious adventures. My little one was the sort of child who really needed his daytime sleep, and needed to sleep at home, which was very limiting.  All adventures ended at 1:00 promptly, or a certain small person fell to pieces.  As soon as this was no longer the case we were off and running, and what an amazing spring break we had! After 4+ years staying close to home, I've still barely recovered from our spring break adventures here & here.

All to say, I know how much you love tutorials (as much as I love creating and posting them, I suspect).  I'm feeling a bit forlorn that I haven't been able to post any really nice ones lately, but perhaps you can bear with me until the autumn when my little one starts kindergarten (!)

As inevitable as it was that my pre-schooler would stop napping during the day, so was it inevitable that the shoe-size of my older son would suddenly surpass my own. I had inklings of this in late fall when he out-grew a new pair of shoes after just a few weeks.  And now he has grown 2 inches in height and increased 2 shoe sizes over the past two months. Yikes.  I can no longer rest my chin on the top of his mopsy head and, at the rate he's going, I wonder whether he will be taller than I am by end of summer. (He is currently 5'2". I am slightly over 5'6".)  Inevitable, of course, but still shocking when it happens...

I hope all is well with you and yours.  Please do say hello and send me your own updates if you're so inclined. I always love hearing from you.
xo
mb

a week in the woods

Anyone who was in touch with me last week knows that my big boy was away with his classmates for a week in the woods.  Our big boy had never been away from the two of us for more than one night, and so his father and I were a bit of an anxious mess.  I'm happy to report that we all survived!

My son and his classmates spent the week exploring beautiful coastal forests...

 

 And visiting groves of tall redwood trees.

They learned about wildlife (and met several creatures in person).

One of the favorite creatures around here is Ariolimax Columbianus, affectionately known as the banana slug.

He had a wonderful time and took many beautiful photos, but we're glad to have him home again!

Thank you Angelina Jolie

On May 14th, the NY Times published an op-ed piece written by Angelina Jolie titled My Medical Choice.  In her piece, Ms. Jolie revealed that she had been diagnosed with a BRCA genetic mutation and decided to undergo a prophylactic double mastectomy to avoid the high risk of breast cancer the mutation affords.

The NY Times published this piece by Ms. Jolie two months ago, and I have spent the past two months thinking about it.  Yes, it has taken me a while to write this post.

You see, I too have a BRCA genetic mutation, passed down to me through my mother, and nine years ago I underwent surgeries similar to those Ms. Jolie discusses.  During the time of my surgeries, I had the support of most family & friends, but there were a few who insisted my choice was a radical one.  These several family members & friends suggested I monitor, meditate, sniff magic aromatherapy oils, etc...  Nine years ago, there was no movie star paving the way to help people understand and validate the choice I had made.

I am very grateful to live in an era when I can take a blood test to detect this genetic mutation and then choose to have surgeries to minimize my risk.  The surgeries are long behind me now, but there are still repercussions and ramifications which lead me to write blog posts like this one here.

Thinking about the piece written by Ms. Jolie, what I like most about it is this: she wrote, "I can tell my children that they don’t need to fear they will lose me to breast cancer," and this is the same thing I tell my children.  Is there any better reason to undergo testing and surgeries than to stay healthy and alive for one's children?  That's why she did it, and that's why I did it, too.

Thank you, Angelina Jolie, for helping women who are faced with a diagnosis of the BRCA genetic mutation. Thank you for paving the way and validating difficult choices.

A Candle for Quiet

I can light a candle,

God can light a star

Both are bright and wondrous

Shining where they are.

 

In our house we have started a mealtime tradition which we fondly call "lighting the candle of peace and quiet supper."

It's common in Waldorf tradition to light a candle at mealtime and to accompany the lighting with a small blessing of gratitude.  When I first read about this tradition, it sounded lovely and quaint, but not something which fit the style of our regular family dinner table.  For us, it was enough to sit down to a warm meal together with a minimum of fuss and bother (if you also have children, it's likely you know what I'm talking about here.) It's also a fact that the kitchen table, around which we sit for every meal, is the only table in the house. This table also serves as a desk for my older son's school work, an art table for my younger son, my work desk and my hand-work studio. Serving so many functions meant that there were always at least two stacks of books (and other assorted things) on the table at any given time: library books, cookbooks, craft books, picture books, newspaper clippings, art supplies, and sometimes even my laptop computer (eek.)  But something had to change.  The perpetual stacks of books on the table were an eyesore, and with my two children squawking noisily, competing for attention, mealtime was hardly a relaxing affair.

Imagining a candle on our table at suppertime... such a beautiful thing seemed out of place among the noise and clutter.

Then one morning a few weeks ago, my eyes landed on a large beeswax pillar candle a friend had given me for my birthday, and I thought to myself, "Let's give this a try."  I spent a few minutes finding other homes in our bookshelves for everything and cleared the table top.  At dinner time, before I put food on the table, I explained that we were going to light a candle for peace and quiet. Everyone was intrigued.  My older son helped me light the candle and the little one demanded to blow it out.  We explained that the candle would be blown out after supper, but then there was still a bit of a quibble because, of course, my older son wanted to blow out the candle, too. Hence we have added a second candle to our table.

After we burned our way through the large pillar from my birthday, I bought a gift for our table -- this beautiful angel candle holder from Nova Naturals.

I'd be lying if I left you with the impression that our dinner table is now always peaceful and uncluttered.  There are nights when my husband & I look downcast, informing the children that the candle must leave the table for a few minutes because there is too much noise (this works -- they do usually calm down a bit!)  And I'm afraid I haven't held my commitment to keeping the table clear of books.  There is, at this very moment, a stack of three books staring me in the face (a cookbook, a book about Calder's Circus and a beloved copy of The Hobbit), but truly, I'm doing better!

Do you have any dinnertime rituals which bring peace to your table?  Also, I'm searching for a poem or song which we might recite or sing when we light our candle.  I found one which you can see at the top of this post, however, I'm wondering whether you might know any others?  Thanks!

Little Button Mouse

Little button mouse,

Hiding in my house.

Upstairs or downstairs,

Where can he be now?

Susan, look and see now!

 

One of the earliest games I taught my children was "Which Hand."  It's likely you already know this little game; it's played by hiding a button, pebble, penny, marble or other small item in one of your hands. You then present 2 closed fists to a child and ask, "Which Hand?" The child chooses one hand and if the first hand is empty, he may choose the second hand.  When he finds the button (pebble, penny or marble) he wins the game.  It's so simple and we play it over and over!

Last month Susan Perrow was visiting us for a few days during a break in her ambitious schedule of workshops and speaking engagements across the US.  Over dinner one night, my little one was getting restless at the table and so I started playing "Which Hand" with him.  Susan offered to teach us her version and we gladly accepted!

Little button mouse,

Hiding in my house.

Upstairs or downstairs,

Where can he be now?

Susan, look and see now!

The words Susan taught us are sung in a sing-songy chant, and instead of the fists presented side by side to the child, the fists are set one on top of the other. Then the fists are switched from top to bottom in repetition to the rhythm of the chant.

Besides the sweet little chant which goes with this game, there are little rhymes which are said in response to the guesses.  Did the child choose incorrectly?  Then you say, "No, not there.  Try elsewhere!"  And when he finds the button mouse, you can exclaim, "You're right!  You're right!  What a delight!"

Also, I have written Susan's name into the rhyme, but of course, the child's name would be substituted here.  My toddler learned this rhyme quickly and sings it to me often.  He has cleverly substituted in my name, so that he chants the final line, "Mama look and see now..."

Of course, a button, pebble, penny or marble can always always be found to play this game, but I couldn't resist making some tiny mice to play with.  Imagine how surprised my boys were when I opened my hand and, instead of our usual button, there was a little mouse!  The knitted mice were created from a pattern in this book here, and the wee felt mouse is from a pattern I adapted from this book.

Little Mr. loves playing with the mice...

The other day he used them to tell a funny story about a mama & papa mouse who longed for a baby.  They found a magic walnut shell and were very surprised when a baby mouse hatched from the shell as though he were hatching from an egg.

Finally, just for fun, Casey's Wood sells these very tiny mice  Aren't they darling?

Little button mouse,

Hiding in my house.

Upstairs or downstairs,

Where can he be now?

Mama, look and see now!

Slowpoke

Little Mr. has named his new friend Slowpoke...

Happy Hanukkah: a re-post

Tonight is the first night of Hanukkah and so I thought I would share with you part of a post I did last year about how a few books brought magic to our Hanukkah celebrations...

...Bombarded by over-commercialized glitz, omnipresent through the month of December, my older son used to really want to celebrate Christmas (and yes!  the bombardment of over-commercialized glitz can be a problem even for families celebrating Christmas!)  It did not matter how many candles we lit or how many lovely gifts he received, our little Mr. still wanted Christmas (or a commercialized idea of Christmas) until we got some really great Hanukkah books.  It was the magic of these books which brought magic to our own family celebrations.

 

Our first and foremost favorite Hanukkah book is Herschel and the Hanukkah Goblins by Eric Kimmel.  What's not to love?  A spooky, abandoned house, a passel of creepy goblins and a very clever fellow who outwits the goblins and lights the glowing candles of Hanukkah...

Our next favorite is ZigaZak, also by Eric Kimmel (more naughty goblins!)

And then there's this delightful story -- the Chanukkah Guest (thanks again, Eric Kimmel!)

For a bit of good natured humor there's The Best Hanukkah Ever by Barbara Diamond Goldin...

And also this clever book -- Malke's Secret Recipe by David A. Adler.

The newest addition to our Hanukkah book collection, The Latke Who Couldn't Stop Screaming by Lemony Snicket, is seriously irreverent...

And finally, a story which is not necessarily for Hanukkah, but so beautiful that I had to share it -- The Treasure By Uri Shulevitz.

Wishing you and your family a joyous holiday (whichever one you celebrate...)  May it be filled with light, love, laughter and... good stories!

Difficult

This is a difficult post to write.  It's been floating around in my head for a few weeks because I've been trying to think of how to write it without sounding whiny, petty or ungrateful.  If I do seem this way, please forgive me.  I'm doing the best I can, as are we all.

Why is this post so difficult to write?  Because it's about a difficult person -- my toddler.  Don't get me wrong. I am grateful to pieces that he is my child.  I am grateful that he is healthy, affectionate, funny, bright and perceptive, creative, generous and very ticklish, but today I am here to set things straight and tell you that things are not all sunshine, flowers and sidewalk chalk (surprise, surprise... right?)

Yes, all toddlers are challenging in their own, unique toddler-ish ways (as are they all utterly delightful in their own unique toddler-ish ways), but I must say, I'm glad this little Bloom is my second child and not my first.  My older son challenged me in all the normal ways and, with the perspective of having been through toddlerhood with one child, I know that, when my little one is being difficult, I haven't done anything wrong and don't blame myself.  My little one is just different from his brother... and more... difficult.

How is he difficult?  He bites.  He pinches.  And he shrieks.  A lot.  Not just any kind of shrieking.  Glass-shattering, icepick-through-the-eardrum, pickax-through-the-skull style shrieking.  He shrieks (and sometimes bites and pinches) when he's angry, frustrated, wants attention, has an unfavorable opinion about something and even when he's happy and playing and having fun. When we go to the library or grocery store, we are greeted with grimacing smiles from familiar clerks.  I smile back at them, cheerfully announcing, "Don't worry... We'll be leaving soon!" And last night, at 11:00, he woke up and shrieked for a solid 30 minutes (I tried everything.  I picked him up and he struggled so I put him down.  I offered to sing songs and read books.  I offered him juice, milk and snacks.  I took him outside to see the moon, etc... etc... Finally, I lit a candle and sang Happy Birthday. The screaming was suddenly replaced by placid cheerfulness, as if the past 30 minutes had never occurred.  Can you see me heaving an exasperated sigh of relief and rolling my eyes?)

What do I do about the shrieking (and pinching and biting?)  I used to flinch and get upset (I still do get upset sometimes.)  I assess for hunger, pain or tiredness and otherwise try to talk to him gently, with reminders to use a gentle voice and gentle hands (it's always more helpful to show a child what we DO want instead of what we don't want, right?)  When it's clear he's not in distress but testing limits or communicating by screaming, I flatten my expression, turn my back and walk away -- at which point, I usually hear a little voice behind me whisper, "Gentle voice..." My response to this, of course, is to turn around and say, "Yes, very good... gentle voice," then give lots of kisses and hugs.  Things have improved somewhat by using this response consistently.

So, why am I writing this post?  Like I said at the beginning, I'm glad this little guy is not my first child -- he is my second child, which gives me a better perspective on the whole shrieking, biting, pinching thing.  But if you have a little one who shrieks, bites or pinches, I hope you might find comfort, kinship and a bit of support reading this today.  Here are a few articles I recently found on the issue of biting (and other undesirable behaviors): there is this excellent article and this other excellent article, plus this article here.  I found reading these really helpful, and, if you've got a young child who screams, bites, pinches, hits or kicks, perhaps they will be helpful to you, too.

Sidewalk Chalk

 What's a mama to do when everyone is grumpy?

Little Mr. had the sniffles and a mean cough.  Wee Bloom and I were coming down with the same cold and in a bad mood. Having been stuck inside the stuffy house for two days, we were all feeling rather glum.

What was the cure for all our woes?

 Trundle everyone outside, into the bright Autumn afternoon...

And hand out some sidewalk chalk.

Note: This post has been linked to Friday's Nature Table at Magic Onions and  Creative Friday at Natural Suburbia.