Everyday Life for Four Seasons

Glimpses of today...


:: Tree Pose. 'A' is teaching her wooden model to do yoga. ::


:: Sweet Pea Seeds. The girls made these at the State Park Preschool Naturalists program yesterday. ::





:: These bulbs were a gift from my mother 8 weeks ago. They just emerged from their dark, cold home in our garage. Stay tuned for some spring growth! ::


:: Remnants of the scarf I started 8 years ago and finished this week are ready for little fingers to try some finger knitting. ::

And now two little princesses are waiting for me to apply their nailpolish...

I love that 'A' spends time looking at her sewing project before, during and after working on it. That's one way I know she's ready to undertake a project like this.

Snow! I'm so happy that Grandmother Winter has decided to stop here and spend some time with us.

We're getting ready to go out and play in all of this wonderful snow. It'll be a break from what we've been doing so far this morning: making snowflakes; making maple candy; and playing tag, hide and seek, and musical chairs.


I sent in my name and my check to Denison Farm, the farm we visit every Wednesday in the warmer months to pick up our week's worth of vegetables. The CSA sign ups are still going on. Signing up is a reminder to me that spring really is right around the corner!

Today:

Some play at home, followed by more play at our local children's museum, then a quick trip to the library, followed by more play at home. What a nice day!

Tonight and tomorrow:

Finally we're getting some of the snow I've been missing all winter! Thank you, DC area, for sending it up here where it belongs!

We've all been visiting - Jeff went to a mountain town with friends for the weekend and I went to see friends in a different mountain town.


Last week I took 'A' to a speech therapist to address her "chewing but not swallowing food" issue. What I learned was incredible. Essentially, she is chewing a few times and then for some reason, either because the food doesn't have enough texture or enough flavor, she unconsciously decides that the morsel in her mouth isn't worth finishing, so it gets left there. It's an oral hyposensitivity issue. As the therapist described it more, it was as if she held up a mirror to me. She was describing me. Suddenly, so much made sense. All those childhood years of not wanting to eat and not liking the food my parents fed me, followed by adult years of trying tastier, more exotic foods, and liking them, made sense. I was labeled a "picky eater" when I was little, and was thought to have had a personality change when I got older and started eating a variety of foods. But you know, in light of the fact that I am probably hyposensitive, I am willing to bet I needed a lot more texture and flavor when I was little. Since I didn't get it, I chose to not eat much instead.

I am so happy that I have a chance to parent someone who is like me! It certainly makes it easier to understand what kind of food she might like to eat.

Today's creation is another skirt for baby. This one has a sleeve for an elastic waistband and a hem. Wow, baby sure is lucky to have such a doting mama!

Tonight we brought a present to a little boy who recently turned two years old. What do you get a boy who likes to make messes and eat his toys? We thought it would be nice to give him a painting smock and a necklace made of cereal. I used Amy Karol's pattern from Bend the Rules Sewing for the smock, and made the smock reversible, not only for looks but for practical reasons too.


Sewing this smock was so much fun! It was fairly easy but called for some attention to detail and some patience and overall it was a pleasure to make. I lengthened the pattern a bit so he can grow into it. I'll definitely be making these for my girls.


Speaking of sewing, 'A' picked it up yesterday all on her own. I was making the epipen case and she picked up a scrap of fabric and asked if she could sew a dress for her doll. I pinned the fabric and sat her down with a needle and thread and told her to go to it. She has been stitching here and there, first with lacing cards using shoelaces, then on a plastic canvas with a tapestry needle and yarn. She understands how to make stitches, but this was a whole new league for her. After she sat and was thinking about how to start, she said, "Now we have to put holes in the fabric so I can put the needle through." What a logical thought! I sent her to the window and told her to hold the fabric to the light to see all the holes. She understood. She sewed the fabric just where she wanted to and we were both happy to see that it fit her baby perfectly!

I learned a very important lesson watching her sew yesterday. This year she hasn't been in preschool, and next year, the year she would ordinarily go to kindergarten, she'll be home with me instead of in the classroom. Things are going so well, and I trust that our family style is working well for her, but I do have moments when I wonder, "How will I know what she's ready to learn? How will I know she's learning?" I don't use any sort of planned curriculum with her now, and I can't see myself using one next year, either. In my mind, learning happens everyday, during our regular activities. When you don't have a curriculum to follow and you don't rely on a system of evaluation, you're pretty much left with your instincts and intuition to set the path. When she picked up the fabric and asked to make something, figured out how to do it on her own, with no frustration, and then was overjoyed to put her creation to use, I understood at once that she will let me know when she's ready. She sees me sew, and when she was ready to try it, she asked to do it. She does that with everything. When she's ready to learn, she just does it.

When I think about how she is growing and learning, and what my role is, I think a lot about trust. Trusting 'A', trusting my instincts, and trusting the process. It's one thing to think about trust and another thing to actually do it. I'm finding that my ability to trust the process can only come when I have total faith in myself.


Look at this poor old kitty. She's almost 17 years old. She's hanging in OK. Slow and arthritic, but happy.

She may not technically be a baby anymore, but she's still my baby...


We're getting snow today - not a tremendous amount, but enough to satisfy some part of my winter soul. The girls and I took a trip to the library in Saratoga today and as we drove home, I wondered if we would see any more than a flurry. Then, as we got close to home, there it was, coming down like a winter wonderland, beckoning us to come out and play.


Today I got crafty. I love, love, love making things that serve a practical purpose and fill a need. After the whole realization that 'A's epipen is here to stay, I thought about how nice it would be to have a case to carry it in, along with a few doses of Benadryl. Until now, I've been throwing it all into my purse and hoping I can find it when I need it. Now it finally has a home! I wanted something compact, sturdy and attractive. And here it is...


I figured out the pattern and design myself, since I needed it to carry the epipens and have a separate pocket for the Benadryl single dose packets. It's built to last, a good thing, because I have a feeling I'm going to be carrying it around for a long time.

We had a very productive weekend - restacked three tons of wood pellets in the newly cleaned garage...

cleaned closets, filed papers, cleaned humidifiers and got another one to balance out the dry air in our living spaces...

watched 'H' swim in the class for bigger kids for the first time, and were delighted to see how much she liked it...

watched the opening ceremonies of the Olympics open-mouthed and very impressed with the native American dancing...

watched birds come to our feeder and wondered why the White Breasted Nuthatch wouldn't fly from a nearby tree to our feeder to sample the sunflower seeds...

...and felt so good about getting so many things done and having a wonderful time doing them!

We're okay here. Still sick, with new antibiotics for both girls, but overall okay. I think the pellet stove dries out our house too much. We've got humidifiers in the sleeping quarters, but it looks like we need some moisture in the air in the living space, too. A cold that lasts this long and comes back to haunt us with sinus infections is not typical for us.


I had the chance to tell 'A's doctor about the hot dog incident and her anaphylactic reaction. I asked if I handled it appropriately, giving her only the Benadryl and waiting to see if more severe reactions occurred. She told me that I should have administered the epipen at the moment she said her mouth and throat felt funny. Remember, I didn't want to give it because I knew it would be a traumatic event (try stabbing yourself with a needle, hold it in your leg for 10 seconds, feel your heart race and think that things are out of control afterward, listen to your mother scream for help and then be a good patient for the advanced life support team that arrives on the scene). One of my questions was, "how do I know how to handle it in the future?" After I spoke with her, I knew. I don't want this to be the answer, but it is. We're now squarely in Epipen Land. Every time an allergic person is exposed to an allergen, the reaction gets more severe. Next time 'A' is exposed to exactly the same amount of dairy that was in that hot dog, her reaction will be even more severe, and will without a doubt warrant use of the epipen.

For almost 5 years now, I've wondered if I would ever need to use it. I never knew exactly what her reaction would be. That unknown was always a reason to hold out hope that it would never be too severe, or that she may outgrow this allergy. But here we are, and although the future isn't necessarily bleak, because there's a lot of wonderful things about vegan living, the idea of her ever being a "regular kid" who eats pizza and ice cream is now really, truly gone. The idea that she can sit next to another playful child and be goofy and silly is now only possible in a situation that does not involve food. The idea of going someplace and being more than a few feet away from the epipen is now an impossibility.

Nothing is all that different now, except that I have new, more accurate information and my actions going forward will be shaped by it. She's still the same little girl I have known and loved.