Bird and Little Bird

Thoughts on Developing Discipline (in Kids and Their Parents).

With all this talk about small pants (thanks, by the way, for the loving and supportive comments everyone!) and blueberries, I almost forgot to tell you about our week at music camp.  As you can see, there were baby chicks involved, which is pretty much all you need to have a good time as far as some of us are concerned, but we were lucky enough to have plenty of bonus fun as well.  I wish a thousand times over that I managed to take more photos while we were away, but somehow I ended up with very few.  I'm not quite sure what happened. 

The week was basically comprised of a series of daily music (mostly violin) classes with some evening activities thrown in here and there, and then an entire day of concerts and play-alongs on Friday, which was the last day of camp. This included a play-down, a kind of Suzuki tradition where kids start playing pieces from the highest song books and work their way down.  More and more kids join in as the pieces get easier.  Mariam had an orchestra class, a fiddle class and then a couple of more traditional classes to work on her Suzuki technique and repertoire.  We stayed in a little inn up the road from where classes were held and our fellow guests included a couple of other violinists and a cellist.  All girls under the age of eleven, I believe.  Mariam had a wonderful time, and I, despite the joys of trying to sleep in a hotel bed for a week when five months pregnant, was very glad that we went.

So the trip itself was full of enough good stuff to justify having gone, but my endgame in planning the whole thing was admittedly about a bit more than that.  I find that keeping enthusiasm high for learning to play an instrument (especially a somewhat tricky one like the violin) isn't always easy, especially with my particular little charge.  Her excitement for musical training ebbs and flows, like so many things in childhood, but we decided long ago that it was important for her to stick with it all the same.  Things like group class, workshops and summer camp have become essential tools in keeping her motivated to practice, and the modeling that older kids provide at these places is no small thing either.  

I've also been finding that, at least in Mariam's case, developing her discipline requires working a bit on my own.  It doesn't seem to be enough to just plan for practice to happen sometime during the day when an opportunity arises organically.  That was increasingly leading to practices happening late in the day (or not at all, quite honestly) and at our house "late in the day" could also be translated as "during the meltdown hours." So, post-camp, I am experimenting with early morning practices that are basically a prerequisite to any of the day's other activities.  If swimming lessons are at nine, we've got to start violin by ten after eight and this is just how it goes. 

At first I was hesitant to try to implement a more structured practice schedule, both because I thought Mariam would rebel and because I worried that I would flake out.  But honestly, we've both risen to the occasion pretty nicely.  She no longer tries to put me off or convince me to let it wait until after dinner (a sure recipe for epic tantrum disaster, let me tell you) and the days of positive and productive practice have me feeling like it is so, so worth it to get up early and get it done.  We've done nineteen days straight of violin practice, without having missed a single day, and I feel like everything about our summer days is running more smoothly as a result.  I know that there are many Suzuki families who haven't missed a day of practice in a year or even three, but we aren't quite there yet.  For us, nineteen days is big stuff.  Like when we get to thirty days we will probably have an ice cream party kind of big.  I'm proud of all of us.  

I suppose that there is also something to be said here about how maintaining some amount of structure, even during vacation when it is so very tempting to let it all go, is something that works well for my kid. I've always known this, but somehow manage to engage in serial amnesia on the subject until the two of us are both climbing the walls and an emergency plan is needed.  I'm catching on though.  I swear.  

Of course, school will start in September and I will have to give some serious thought to how we continue with a morning practice schedule.  To be honest, I'm very much considering the idea of saying that practice still needs to happen each morning and dedicating earlier bedtimes and wake-up calls to the cause.  It feels just a little "strict mom-ish" for my tastes, but when I see how well things have been going lately, I suspect that it might be just the thing to do.  Mariam seems to have passed out of annoyance at my rigidity about practice time and instead, I see her starting to feel excited about the progress that she is making and proud of the fact that she is working so hard.  That feeling of joy at seeing her own hard work pay off is exactly what I'm going for in all this.    

I am curious about how others approach issues around developing discipline, motivation and follow-through as their children grow, so if you'd like to chime in with your own experiences, I'd love it.  For now, I'm off to make a blueberry crisp. 

Yep, blueberry summer continues.  

 

In the Best Laid Plans Department.

Thankfully, the seemingly endless heat wave has indeed ended.  For reasons that only a trained meteorologist could explain (and I'm beginning to suspect that we don't really have any of those doing weather forecasting here in Vermont), the temperature dropped from approximately one billion degrees with ninety percent humidity to sixty-five and raining overnight.  And, I am appropriately grateful. 

I had thought that maybe the temperature drop would mean that I could start to think again about replanting the groundhog-decimated areas of our garden.  We put out a live trap for the fat, furry nuisance about a week ago, hoping to pull a catch and release manuever in time for the heat to let up and the kale to be replanted.  However, last night we caught something else entirely.

I think it was just before midnight when Dan came in and said "Bird!  We have a situation!"  (Yes, he really does call me that.) I hadn't been asleep all that long, but must have been sleeping relatively hard because I'm pretty sure that when I first woke up I didn't actually know who he was, let alone what he was talking about or why he was looking out the bedroom window with a flashlight.  After talking me through my obvious confusion for a few moments, Dan notified me that indeed, we had caught something in the trap, but it wasn't a groundhog.  It was a skunk.  A big one. 

Of course, the immediate problem with the situation was obvious.  We had a large, angry skunk in a small cage just outside our bedroom window.  It was midnight, pouring rain and we had no idea how to set this thing free without getting sprayed.  Or worse.  So, we did what any reasonable people would do.  We stood in the window, looking out with flashlights and cracking a series of ridiculous jokes related to our situation.  I can't remember anything that was actually said, I just know that it was super funny and that I was laughing hysterically.  Also, a number of references were made to an incident with a possum in our chicken coop nearly a decade ago that Dan will possibly never live down. 

After a few minutes, it became clear that perhaps our problem was a little different than what we thought it was.  In fact, upon closer examination, it appeared that the trap had been sprung, the door to the trap was still closed, but that now it was empty.  While we were busy laughing about our predicament and lack of clever ideas about how to solve it, the angry skunk seemed to have escaped somehow.  Skunk Houdini.  Dan donned a headlamp, grabbed his flashlight and cautiously crept out the backdoor into the rain to confirm our suspicions.  Indeed, the trap was closed on both ends, the watermelon we used for bait had been eaten, but there was no longer a skunk inside.  I'm not sure that relief is a strong enough word for the realization that it will not be necessary to liberate a sizeable and annoyed skunk in the rain at midnight.  Especially since at some point we did have the sense to do a little searching on the interwebs for advice on the situation and found only this:

Q: What should I do if I catch a skunk?
A: First, find an old cloth, towel or sheet that can be used to cover the trap. Next, approach the trap cautiously, holding the trap covering in front of you. Make sure the covering extends to the ground while holding it--don't let the skunk see your feet coming as this may alarm the animal. When you're close enough to the trap, gently cover the trapped animal--trap and all.

Right.  That really clears things up. Anyway, all's well that ends well.  Except that I still have a groundhog problem and I think that we took a vote and decided not to leave the trap set at night anymore.  As Dan said "There aren't really any nocturnal animals available in or around our backyard that I want to fool around with."  Agreed.

More with the Berries (Plus Nut-Free Granola).

I'm really trying to resist the urge to do an entire week of posts about the intensity and depth of my love for blueberries.  But maybe you'll indulge me one more post?  Because it isn't really about blueberries, it's actually more about granola.  Which is also good and which I love almost as much as blueberries.

Because we are a very strictly treenut-free household and the granola bulk bins at the store are a hotbed of nut contamination potental, I generally have to make granola myself if I want to be able to eat it.  Danger everywhere, I tell you.  Of course, I always get myself thinking that making granola is so much harder than it actually is, so I don't make it as often as I should.  But really, it is very easy and takes such a short amount of time that I feel a little ridiculous for not just making it a part of my normal kitchen routine.  

Anyway, this particular batch of granola is based on Heidi Swanson's Grain-ola recipe from SuperNatural Cooking, a super stellar cookbook which you actually should own if you don't already.  Her recipe calls for using nuts, which of course I didn't, but also needed a couple of other ingredients which I just didn't have on hand.  So, I modified the recipe to fit my pantry and my husband's allergies, and this is what I came up with.  It is, I should say, stunningly good. Especially with...wait for it... blueberries.

 

Simple Nut-Free Granola

4 cups rolled oats

3/4 cup pepitas 

1 3/4 cups unsweetened shredded coconut

1 3/4 cups dried cranberries (or other dried fruits)

3/4 cup honey

1/4 coconut oil

Combine the honey and oil in a small saucepan over low heat and stir to combine.  Mix the oats, pepitas and coconut together in a large bowl.  Pour the honey/oil mixture over the oat mixture and stir to combine thoroughly and evenly.  Spread the mixture onto a lightly oiled baking sheet and bake in a 350 degree oven for about 45 minutes, stirring the mixture every ten or fifteen minutes during that time.  It should be uniformly golden brown when done.  Stir in the dried fruit and cool to room temperature before storing in an airtight container. 

Pie Season.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have officially amended my list of criteria for places to live when Dan starts residency. It now reads as follows:

1. No groundhogs

2. Low humidity

3. Pick-your-own blueberries available nearby

 

I'm pretty sure than abundant and inexpensive blueberries are synonymous with happiness.

Tiny People Wear Tiny Pants (Or, There is Big News).

Let me begin by saying that I do many, many things well.  I can make chocolate chip cookies from scratch without referencing a recipe, I can recite all of the U.S. presidents in order from memory and I'm pretty good at minor home repairs.  I have talents. However, pregnancy is not one of them.  Which is one of the reasons why I have waited quite a long while to announce that indeed, our little family will be slightly less little come December.  

We are half-way to the predicted arrival of our little one (the due date being my 34th birthday, actually), and it would seem that this whole baby deal is actually happening.  For real.  And we are happy and excited and all that good stuff, but I will also admit that I am probably not getting on the "pregnancy is such a beautiful miracle" bandwagon any time soon.  It is a means to the most wonderful of ends, but honestly, it is also not really my idea of a good time.

I should probably preface all of this by saying that I by no means take this pregnancy for granted.  Having miscarried three out of five pregnancies in the last eight years, I'm pretty aware of how lucky I am to have made it to my nineteen week ultrasound with both baby and I still kicking.  I don't think that I really believed that we were going to be having this baby until that point, which I why I kept things hush hush for such a long time.  We basically didn't tell anyone who wasn't in need of an explaination after witnessing me actually vomiting, a delightful activity which I engaged in approximately one billion times per day until about sixteen and a half weeks.  

Which gets us back to the bit about me being less than stellar at handling the human reproductive process with grace.  For example, there was a period of some weeks where my hands and arms were covered in bruises from i.v. needles, I could eat nothing but small amounts of breakfast cereal and I used up all of my sick days at work. In succession. Hippy dippy homebirthing me even went on anti-nausea drugs so powerful that I slept for about a month with only rare moments of consciousness.  During this time, Mariam did no homework and mostly ate cheese for meals.  Stellar parenting it was not. Also, I swore up and down that if one more person told me to eat a cracker, I was going to kill them with minimal remorse. Public service announcement:  In the event that you haven't actually had hyperemesis, I wouldn't recommend telling someone who does how sick you were when you were pregnant (even though you never threw up) and all about the stuff you ate that made it all go away.  It really doesn't make anyone feel better. Trust me. 

So, I think I was kind of in disbelief this week when we had our big ultrasound and saw a tiny person who appears to be in perfectly lovely condition.  Apparently all that sickness and disasterous discomfort only made me fall apart.  The baby is a-okay.  There was also some amount of disbelief when they told us that indeed, said baby is a boy.  A boy.  A male human child.  Not that we aren't thrilled at the prospect of a little boy around the house, it is just that after nearly eight years as parents of a little girl, boys seem like a foreign country for which we have only a partial map and are lacking proper driving credentials.  

So that's the true story behind the lack of blog posts and the hints about not feeling super awesome.  Behind the scenes I was actually vacillating between heavy sedation and uncontrollable vomiting.  You know, when I didn't have a needle in my hand.  Needless to say, I am more than pleased to be moving into the phase of knitting baby booties and musing about how one keeps a tiny person warm during Vermont winters.  After everything that we've been through to get to this point, being able to just be hopeful and happy about this baby feels like an incredible luxury.  

Next up: the part where early nesting instincts cause me to visit the hardware store daily and become impossible to live with.    

Library Monday: An Alphabet Glue Addendum.

It sometimes happens that the kid-centered thing that I am interested in at a given moment is not the same thing that interests my actual kid.  I'm pleased to report that this has definitely not been the case with the kid detective obsession that guided the creation of much of what you'll find inside Alphabet Glue Volume Two.  Indeed, Mariam has gotten way deep into all things related to pint-sized sleuths and in about two weeks time has torn through a huge stack of Cam Jansen, Nate the Great and Encyclopedia Brown books.  And I do mean huge.  Her affection for these books has led us to start exploring some other options the genre has to offer, and I thought that maybe I should share a bit of what we've read or plan to read soon.  

Think of it as an addendum of sorts to the Super Sleuth reading list from the most recent issue of Alphabet Glue. 

 

First up is the Saxby Smart series by Simon Cheshire.  We've only read one so far, but it was a really fun read and Mariam loved it.  Saxby Smart is a kid detective of the very best kind; smart, quick and outfitted with a wry and somewhat self-depricating sense of humor. Each book contains multiple individual cases, each made up of a number of chapters. Perfect for reading a little each day.  One of the stories that we've read so far did mention actual violence (in a historical context, but still, I'm raising a really sensitive kid here), but I've gotten to be a pro at editing on the fly, so it was pretty easy to work around without changing the story much. 

 

After realizing that we've pretty much exhausted our Nate the Great options, Mariam was pretty distressed.  Olivia Sharp to the rescue!  Our library doesn't have these, and our local bookstore appears to be a no-go as well, so I'll have to order them. But considering that Ms. Sharp is both Nate the Great's cousin and was created by Marjorie Weinman Sharmat, I strongly suspect it will be worth the effort to get a hold of a few of these. 

 

We haven't had a chance to read The Mysterious Benedict Society yet, but I must say, it looks awesome in the way that A Series of Unfortunate Events was awesome in the first few books.  I'll probably have to pre-read this one to make sure that Mariam would like it, but I have no issues there since it looks like such a good read.  Now, if only it was ever available at the library! 

The Week that Was.

This week:

- A groundhog ate our garden.  Notice that I do not mention a specific area of the garden or a particular plant or group of plants within the garden.  Nope, he ate the whole thing.  In one night.  Well, at least the garden at the top of the yard by the patio.  The tomatoes down below are still unscathed but I am not that hopeful.  I've seen this groundhog in broad daylight and he is an animal of considerable girth, which I'm sure he feels he must eat adequately to maintain.  Sigh. 

- I've realized that the upside to the phase of having trouble falling asleep at night that Mariam has been in is that we get some pretty great "deep thoughts" type outbursts after she's been laying in bed musing for awhile.  Usually they are the last thing she says before falling asleep.  Last night: "Mama, is Australia an island?" And then she was out, just like that.

- We made ricotta gnocchi for dinner- again.  It is kind of becoming my go to meal when I'm not sure what else to make.  Now that I've got it down, it's really easy and pretty quick too.  This time we had it with sauteed zuchinni, corn, tomatoes and carmelized onions. Oh, and lots and lots of parmesan.

- I decided that maybe Dan should do his residency somewhere in the country where there are no groundhogs.  I should start researching our options.

- Mariam and I packed our bags to head out for a week of Suzuki music camp in central Vermont.  We are out the door in an hour or so.

- I realized what a homebody my little girl is.  She is excited about camp, but very, very hesitant to leave dad and kitty at home.  And she packed her backpack full of her very favorite things to remind her of home.  Of course, they are mostly rocks so I'll probably end up carrying her very heavy backpack around before too long.

 

In the Que.

Today we visited the yarn store.  You know, that place that is at once full of wonder and danger?  Mariam and I are getting ready to be away at Suzuki music camp for the better part of a week, and I am anticipating the need for many hours worth of handwork.  Since we all know that I do not now, nor have I ever, knit with efficiency, a couple of projects should be more than enough to fill my thirty odd hours of sitting in lessons and workshops with my mini-musician.  I'm not going to tell you what those projects are just yet, though. I have my reasons for this, but I promise to share when the final products are ready for show and tell.

 

I also picked up a handy little basket that has a drawstring liner useful for hiding newly wound and very pretty balls of yarn.  Bet you can't guess why.

The Fourth (on the Third).

 

 

Here in Vermont, the Fourth of July is generally celebrated on July 3rd.  This makes sense, right?  

Anyway, last year we walked into town hoping to see the fireworks from somewhere on the UVM campus, but finding our view mostly blocked by trees and buildings we ended up just plopping down in the grass on a random street corner once Mariam got tired enough to refuse to go any further. At that point, we were coincidentally happened upon by the president of the university and his family, who invited us up to the top of a nearby building to watch the fireworks from there.  It was kind of awesome.  

Assuming that there would be no such happy accidents this year, Mariam and I decided to take the bus downtown to watch the fireworks on the waterfront. 

 

We stopped for ice cream when we got downtown, but found ourselves having trouble keeping up with the rate at which it was melting in the warm evening air.  I ended up with ice cream drips in my sandals and Mariam had them pretty much, well, everywhere.  

 

After a hunt for extra napkins, we watched the sunset from in front of the science center and then met up with some friends to watch the fireworks. 

 

Of course, our outing to the festivities (especially once the bus ride home was included in the whole affair) resulted in a very, very late bedtime for the small person.  I will pay for this for some number of days.  

Shortcake Season.

After a couple of good solid weeks of getting rained out, we finally made it to the strawberry fields for picking.  The fields were pretty heavily picked already, but there were some good berries just the same.  Especially in the areas that were overgrown with stinging nettle where no one really wanted to stick their hands down in to reach the ripe berries hidden underneath.  I'm pretty sure that there is some sort of metaphor for life in that situation.

I still need to do some berry-preservation work of some sort this evening (most likely strawberry sauce or an easy jam), but a good amount of the picked berries have already been dedicated to popsicles and shortcake.  My favorite berry popsicle recipe can be found here, and we usually use this shortcake recipe.  Both are easy.  Both are good. Very, very good.