Consuming Less Plastic as a Family

Part of caring for the planet and setting a good example for the little ones in my life is noticing how much our daily choices impact the greater good. This does not mean living under a microscope analyzing your every move but taking a moment to access whether your lifestyle choices are contributing to environmental degradation or living in harmony with the planet.  One of the main ways I have figured out to live in connection with the earth is to value my time outdoors and seek a meaningful relationship with the place I live in. I also do this by limiting the amount of plastic my family and I consume. 

Before I became a parent, I was highly aware of what I needed to do to live a sustainable life. I lived in the Pacific Northwest where citywide composting was the norm and in restaurants you could find a recycling bin and compostable flatware. When I started my parenting journey and left that part of the country, I had to start from scratch in my new home of Tulsa. There is a city-wide recycling center and environmental/sustainable focused organizations here but not much else in terms of large scale public engagement around environmental issues.

By virtue of being a parent I had to sacrifice some of my beliefs around living sustainably. For instance I set out to use cloth diapers but soon found that our daughter could easily get diaper rash if left in a cloth diaper too long. We kept her in cloth diapers during the day but had to compromise with disposables at night to keep her from flaring up in a rash every day. I also used to be a bus and bike commuter, which I could still do with children, but would be much harder for me with our spread out and busy family lifestyle, so I made the sacrifice of driving a car each day.

Though I have had to sacrifice some of my eco-lifestyle choices in becoming a parent I realized there is still a lot I can do for the planet and live in a balanced way with my families and my needs. This is where planning ahead will save you. 

My Parent tool kit for reducing your carbon footprint when buying food at the store or restaurant:

By keeping a few items handy in your car or in your backpack it will become a habit to always have them available whenever it is time to get groceries or order take out. These steps require you to spend a little money upfront but will ultimately save you a ton of money in the long run and help the planet, a win, win. 

Empty Tupperware, a few sizes:

Every time you go out to a restaurant or order take out nine times out of ten it will come in a Styrofoam container. This Styrofoam will live on in our landfills for the next 500 years or more. To avoid using Styrofoam use your empty Tupperware instead. Ask that your leftovers are put into the container and or your meal is made in the container. If it is clean, most places will use your container. If you are dining in and they give you a Styrofoam plate tell management you would rather they didn’t use this material anymore. Use your power as a concerned citizen to spread the word that there are much better options for plates then Styrofoam.

A water bottle, thermos and re-usable straws:

I recommend a thermos because these can hold both hot and cold liquid and keep your drink at the temp you want year round. As a person that is often working outside in the heat and cold I cannot live without a thermos! A lot of water bottle companies these days have thermos options in sleek designs.

A set of at least three, sturdy, cloth shopping bags:

These bags can eliminate the use of tons of plastic. I take my bags in every store I go to, some clerks don’t know how to pack them, so I get to show them, it’s a way for us all to learn how to use less plastic. 

A set of re-usable produce sized bags and or bags from products you already bought and twist ties:

The reusable produce bags can be found in health food stores for purchase or buying them online. You can also just save the bags and twist ties from the bread you buy and re-use them to purchase grains, nuts, cereal etc. from bulk bins or put produce in them. Seeing each bag you purchase as a precise object makes you really aware of how much plastic you are consuming and take note of your impact on our planet as a consumer.

These are some of the easiest steps we can take to change our habits as consumers and live a personal green life style. The bigger picture is changing the way our systems are in place now that creates these harmful materials. In other cities I have lived there has been a ban on the plastic bag. Starting a campaign like this is another way to help make our city greener, eliminating the problem in the first place, will make the biggest impact. 

This was originally printed for Tulsa Kids Magazine August 2018

Goal Setting For The New Year

For the past four years I have been doing an exercise in goal setting as the New Year approaches. It has informed what my year has looked like. It has shaped the flow of my work patterns and has ultimately led to some pretty magical things. The formula I use for goal setting is unique and feels different then setting resolutions. Resolutions are wonderful ways to get pumped about the New Year. What I notice though, is they fizzle out with time. It is hard to stick to a new year’s resolution in June. Goal setting however has a different flavor, the goals can consistently be reworked into whatever seasons you are in and are open to re-evaluation at any time.

Sounds good doesn’t it?

Since starting goal setting I moved, had another baby, and got my writing published in an online magazine. While doing back yard nature meditation, one of my goals, I gained perspective on what I truly wanted to do with my career. I left my job to start my own business. I have also prioritized my hobbies and things I want to do just for me, like writing and learning to knit.

Here are some steps to guide you through my ritual of goal setting.

Painting by Liga Lazdina

Find a Friend

The first place to start is by finding a friend. A friend is a way to keep you honest in your goal setting. A friend’s perspective helps you to set realistic goals for your life while also giving you the encouragement you need to pull off big things. Not all friends are great for this so choose wisely. Pick someone you trust that has good listening skills. This friend could be a long distance friend. You can set up online skype goal conversations.  Don’t be limited by requiring that the friend lives in your town or city.

Set a Date and Plan

After finding a buddy interested in doing this with you set aside at least three hours for a  “goal date” in the afternoon sometime after Christmas. If you don’t have three hours to spare in one day stretch the date out over a period of a week. Pick a time when you will not feel rushed.  Items to bring to your goal date include snacks, tea, notebooks, colored pencils or markers, old packing labels or paper to cut up and a hole punch and string. Consider this your big picture thinking time. Before this date I often like to have my initial brainstorm for my goals done. I do this while walking or cleaning. These are my two thinking times where big ideas come out. I often scribble them down in my notebook or put them in the notes in my phone.  When I come to the date I have an idea of what I want to do and it gets me ready for the big brainstorm.

Talk and Listen

At your goal date take turns listening to each other about the things you want to manifest this year. This looks like one person giving their full attention to the other person without interrupting them or offering advice. A timer on your phone should be set to help ensure that each person gets the same amount of time. I often set the timer for 20 minutes each. Decide who goes first and switch when the timer goes off. For the person talking, you can do this however works best for you. Some people like to work back wards and start by discussing where they want to end up by the end of the following year. Some like to use the attention to just brainstorm about the things they want to see in their life. Some like to share the history of the previous year to gain perspective on what they want for this new one. All are valid and most likely you will do a combination of all these things.

Painting by Nora MacPhail

Take a Break

After the first forty minutes take a snack break, bathroom, maybe even go for a short walk around the block if you are feeling extra luxurious around time. Don’t let the break go too long though; twenty minutes should be enough to clear your head.

Writing Brainstorm

The next step is a writing brainstorm. Both goal setters get out their notebooks and write for twenty minutes about the things they want to manifest over the next year. Take from your pre-meeting notes, your time talking to your goal partner and any new thoughts you had during the break. I find it’s best to let your self write it all out and not worry about whether or not its practical or not concise enough, editing comes later. This exercise is about getting the ideas on the page. This can be a magical step as you see your goals lay out before you, each one blossoming into a new perspective or project.

Compare Notes

After your writing brainstorm is complete you can now let the editor in, take ten more minutes by yourself and look over what you have written. Circle the parts that stand out the most, the ones that have the most charge behind them.  In your writing find a hand full of goals that seem doable this year that speak to what you want for your life and help deepen what you have already.

Compare Again

Do another twenty-minute share each. This time when you are listener you can also offer advice or perspective. If the talking person needs some guidance this is a good time to give some words of encouragement. Hopefully at this stage you will be able to easily see where you want to put your energy in the following year. You can write out the goals on a clean sheet of paper during your talking time to be able to easily see them.

Take a Short Break

Take a short break, ten minutes total, than come back together for making goal art. This is the fun part of goal setting and should not be overlooked in importance. Creating goal art gives you a little treat for all your hard work. It’s a reward and it creates something eye catching you want to look at through out your year.

Goal Art

Take twenty minutes and make your art together. The art I make involves taking old packing labels and creating a taggie. This looks like a little book that ties together with small pictures and words describing each goal for the year on each tag. I find keeping the wording simple is best. Choose an image that best describes the goal and gets you exhilarated about it. These taggies can be as simple or complicated as you like just as long as they are eye catching and make you feel excited about your goals. I return to my goal taggie throughout the year. I keep it by my desk as a reminder of all the things I want to do and all that I have already accomplished. The goal taggie keeps you honest and is also cute.  Share your goal taggies at the end of the time. You are now done with your date.

Follow Up

Follow up should happen with your goal buddy throughout the year. I recommend meeting every three months to check in with your goals. Figure out what is hard, what might need tweaking, offer advice to your fellow goal setter. When you get together make it fun, the whole point of goal setting is to feel empowered by life and help each other out. This is not to criticize or make you feel bad or that you don’t do enough. If the goals are not working figure out what could work. Meet at a café, bring your taggies and enjoy your self. You can use the model of taking turns giving each other attention, or be less structured during these meet ups. This is about sharing love, wisdom and perspective and manifesting the world you want to be in.

This year my focus is on living more seasonally so I broke my goal taggie into what I wanted to do in each season. I am also constantly experimenting with how to best focus my energy. Good luck with goal setting and let me know how it goes.

 

Getting Your Toddler To Brush Their Teeth

 Sometimes the simplest things become the biggest struggles and occasionally the biggest victories. It has always been a struggle to get Little Pickle to brush her teeth. The second that cute, Winnie the pooh baby toothbrush came near her mouth as a little one she would scream. Don’t get me wrong, the kid loves putting stuff in her mouth. From my hairbrush, the bottom of her shoes any and all electronics with cords, she is ready to gobble them all up. The second something useful, hygienic and helpful comes along suddenly it is “abort everything.” She either squirms away from me screaming as I jab the brush into her mouth or she grabs the brush, sucks all the toothpaste off, and then proceeds to throw it across the bathroom.

Most of the time I have ignored this behavior. In a classic, “this is my second kid” syndrome, I am more relaxed about everything and also hold a genuine belief that she will grow out of it. The brain fuzz that occurs between two children separated by 4 ½ years makes me vaguely remember Sweetpea also throwing fits about tooth brushing. Now the girl is a wiz at it. All I have to do is sing the “brush your teeth” song and she happily runs to the bathroom, sets her timer, brushes away then flosses and rinses with mouth wash. Yeah for Virgo kids!

Once a week I had been holding my dear toddler down and scrubbing her teeth while she screams bloody murder. I only did this once a week because I really didn’t want her to get cavities. Feeling guilty for forcing the tooth brushing, I remember what the pediatrician said to me about not pushing things on her so as not to create a bad memory of the experience. I decided to consult the Internet for tips. I was instructed to brush my teeth in front of my child to model the healthy habit, not a bad idea but Little Pickle had a lot more fun watching me brush then doing it to her teeth.  Having an electric toothbrush was endlessly fascinating to her.

I tried the let’s make this one big game idea. She says “tee” for the front teeth while I brush and then “aww” for the back teeth so she opens her mouth really wide. Little pickle loved making the sounds but not with the toothbrush anywhere near her.

I also tried the “there’s a tiger in your mouth and I am going to get it” technique.  This definitely made her laugh but did not lead to an easier time for brushing.

I tried the mediation method, this involved taking deep relaxing breaths before having her brush her teeth, then silently witnessing the act instead of instructing. Yeah, this did not really work.  However, this exercise prompted me to realize how I needed to capitalize on what my daughter did like to do, stick things in her mouth.

As we left the bathroom heading to our next transition, books and bedtime I noticed she would pop just about anything in her mouth while we were reading. If it was a small toy, her banana teether or just her fingers, as we read Little Pickle was enjoying the oral stimulation. A new idea was formed. The next evening when tooth brushing struggle time came near I went into the bathroom, grabbed her brush with a pea of toddler toothpaste on it and led her right to the bedroom. Out of context the toothbrush became a glorified teether! She would start the brushing on the changing table. At book time the toothbrush stayed in her mouth, working her way around each tooth several times as I read. Suddenly my fussy, hate to brush toddler was brushing for 5 minutes straight, no big deal like the boss lady she is.

I am sure that this “Out of Context” strategy will not work for the rest of her life but for now the no pressure, we brush as we go works well for us. Little Pickle is keeping up the good habits and I am not stressed about her associating tooth brushing with power struggle. Victory!

Cleaning Out Your Childhood

I just spent a week in my childhood home. It took me to my mid-30s to face the final flotsam and jetsam of my childhood waiting for me in the closet. It took this long partly because I did not want to reclaim my beloved toys without having a solid house to put them in. Now that we have settled for a bit and Sweetpea came of age to actually play with these toys, I saw that it was time. For my mother it had been time for a while. She had been asking me to come get my stuff for years. We headed cross-country this summer with enough space in our car’s trunk for a few of the most valued of my childhood possessions. 

The sorting and trashing of nostalgia is an art form. In the KonMari method of de-cluttering, nostalgia is the last priority one should tackle when getting rid of possessions. Old letters, photos, dear to me trinkets and keepsakes have always had a place in my heart. I was such a romantic/nostalgic kid I would not let anyone throw or give away anything. Luckily I did not have a lot of stuff, but it still could add up. I kept paper bags of chestnuts and crab apples in my room for food in the tiny village games I made up.  I saved locks of hair in envelopes and had a collection of tiny boxes filled with sentimental tiny objects that people had given me or reminded me of places and events in my life. 

As I grew older and became more of an artist the stuff continued to pile up. I kept every issue of Seventeen magazines for collage clippings and every colorful sheet of paper to paint on. As I collected art supplies I also had a large assortment of pen pals, from pre-email days. I loved to gab on the phone with friends but I also loved writing to them and I now have 2 full sized boxes of letters to prove it. Such a treasure trove! There is nothing like old letters to set my cancer heart aflutter. Seeing my friends through words, our experiences together, our hopes and dreams, there really is nothing like it.

I was trying to let go of stuff though, right? Enter the non-nostalgic take care of business parent. This is operation clean out closet, leave no shelf un-dusted. My mission is to leave this place with just 4 boxes of mementos and one dollhouse, go! Luckily, I started the process a few years back when I realized it was time to get my old clutter out of my mom’s house. On that trip I actually went through all the old letters, pouring over the words of dear friends and giggling at a brief affair with a French man who called me Titi. I brought those letters home that trip, now was the time to completely empty the space. Most things were in boxes already but they still needed sorting. With my head and not my heart I sifted through the things that I deemed worth saving and the things that got passed to Goodwill. I often found my self faced with something I had kept for a long time. When I looked at these objects, specifically old works of pottery I had done, I realized the memory of them is what held the meaning. Out of context, actually holding the physical object did not hold the same importance. Many things ended up in the giveaway or throwaway pile that I would have never dreamed of being there before. 

I found the best way to get rid of nostalgic objects is to blow them a kiss as I passed them on. The energy that surrounded them had faded with age, sitting in my old closet for many years. I had very few regrets in this process of purging. There were a couple of handmade stuffed toys that I let go of that I am still thinking about but other then that it was good! It felt right to give new life to an old space. I gave my mother room to move on with that room and do what she would like with it. I am a lucky person to have a family that stayed in the same house through my lifetime, a family that held onto my things till I was ready to purge them. I know a lot of people who did not get that luxury.
Of the things I did keep, I now get to see them be brought back to life, like a “Toys” movie. I get to see my beloved, very 80’s-90’s Barbie dolls being played with by Sweet Pea. I get to see my resurrected old dollhouse in use again, with all its many, miniature, parts.  I still have 2 boxes that are filled with pure nostalgia, one day I might even purge some of them. For now, it is good to hold onto the many layers of self found in old art projects, journals, letters, pictures from my grandmothers and a few of their little trinkets. As long as it is just a few boxes I am ok with keeping them.

I prepped for this trip by working on my daughter’s art projects. From babyhood onward we had amassed a huge amount of sentimental artwork done by her. It seems that every corner of our home was crammed full with boxes and bags of her art projects. I set myself to the task of sorting through and figuring out which pieces were worth keeping and documenting. I wanted to make her a photo book of her best artwork from this early part of her life. What a great way to memorialize the work and let it go, I thought. I had to be very secretive about this process. If Sweetpea even sensed a hint of me trying to recycle anything she made, she was mortally offended. I spent evenings, after bedtime, going thought the bags and hours when she was on play dates, sorting. The whole process for this nostalgic, keep everything parent took a good, solid month. It was hard to see all those bags of her work go into the recycling bin, but when I saw all this open space in the corners of our house, and watched as she busted out 5 new projects in one day alone, I figured we could handle saying goodbye to 3 bags full of 2-year-old scribble art work.

The next big project is going though my artwork, eek! My office closet is filled with old photographic supplies and prints from my early days of photography. I will keep you posted.

Birthdays

I recently watched a Portlandia episode where one of the main characters was making a big deal about her birthday. She was going over the top to celebrate it in all the ways that would delight her. She was drawing  a lot of  attention to herself and really wanting folks to make a big fuss over her. While watching this it drew me into my own birthday reflections. What an interesting moment in time. The moment you were born into the world.  I thought how much I want friends and family to make a fuss over me. How those early baby feelings of being wanted, loved and cooed over come up on this date every year.

At different times I have had amazing birthdays. As a child in Connecticut my mom was skilled at making a really fun home made birthday party based upon my interests at the time. I recall a safari petting zoo theme one year, a boat ride through the Thimble Islands when I was 12 with all my friends, and the traditional cake and play outside when I was little. I went through a lull of big celebrations as a teen. It was hard to figure out how to get together my friends who lived in many different states. One year, my 16^th, was the exception. My friends and mom all met up in New York City and went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and tramped around Soho and Greenwich Village, owning the city. Experiencing NYC with my loved ones felt like the best celebration to me. 

In my early 20’s, while living in Seattle, I had a lovely friend who was great at coming up with big celebrations for me. When I turned 24 I gave her a list of experiences I wanted to have, pet a llama, have a picnic, go to a hot spring. She made a party out of us going on this big adventure into the mountains to a hot spring ending in a llama farm. I also recall being pregnant with Sweetpea and having a Portland birthday adventure. That birthday included a picnic in a park and dancing to Bollywood at a club that night with my big pregnant belly on the dance floor.  I felt free.

By Jessica Foster

Post kids it has been harder to celebrate me. Last night at my birthday potluck as I waited to gather everyone together, the children at the party had their sticky fingers in the ice cream melting around the second layer of my cake. I stood my ground and said “Birthday girl gets the first piece!” but they swarmed like hounds once that piece was cut. Not quite like my birthday the previous year when I turned 35. The adult celebration I got to have when my in laws took the kids. We had wine, viewed my old art school films, folks showed up at 10 pm and the party lingered to midnight. I got a taste of my life pre-children and it was sweet.

As a parent I savor any alone time I get. I am a combo of introvert and extrovert and I find the best way to balance this is by having a good chunk of alone time. As my first birthday present of this year I gifted my self some time sans kids to write at a café. I used these few hours of alone time to contemplate what it means to be in my mid-30s. My 36^th year feels like my adult prime. I think that your 30’s and 40’s are a great time to take charge of the big things you want to do in your life and have the history, clarity and experience of your 20’s to back up your plans. If anything I feel more relaxed, as I get older, that time is expansive and I can have it all just slowly and not all at once.

By Ian Roberts

I am evaluating my life from this new perspective. I find that growing older just makes life better. I am more focused on my goals and less stressed about getting it all done. There was an adrenaline that ran through my 20’s to get everything done and fast. I now have the perspective of time on this planet, time for many things to happen, many wheels to turn, and many projects to develop. My husband has gifted me this ease to some extent. Though he is a master of juggling multiple things as am I, he does not feel that it all needs to happen in a quick way. I see my life unfolding with many delicious treats, at the moment I am in the thick of parenting and starting a business, but I know that I will not always be in this stage of life.

In some ways I can’t wait to get older.  I imagine I will be hitting my stride in all that I am doing and feeling truly in charge of my life. Maybe at that point parenting will become more of a collaboration with my children where I get to guide them more and sideways teach instead of doing so much to keep them afloat. It is good to think into the future and remember that I will reclaim my birthdays again someday and make them all about me. For now I am surrounded by the needy love of young people and it is still sweet.  I love all the homemade gifts, cards, making messy breakfast omelets, drinking sips of coffee in between threading needles for small felt toys.  But I also enjoy sneaking away to enjoy an adult celebration on my own in a café with big windows and small minty, lavender sparkling drinks.

Standing Up Against Hate

I have been disheartened, disenchanted and stuck in the mud this last week. I realized how much of a bubble I live in and how much denial I was in that people would honestly elect Donald Trump. My heart hurts that bigots are smearing their hate in Trumps name feeling like they have won. The mean streak this week in the USA is sickening. We are stuck in a new world where the only answer is action. I wanted the transition of power to be more gentle than this but it’s not going to be and not settling for hate is the new mentality I have to embrace. Of course this is not a new mentality. As a woman raised in a sexist society I have had to take this approach to life over and over again. In fact Trump winning only puts into perspective all the times I have felt like the bully won. His rise to power reminded me of all the times I saw an unqualified male leader take dominance in my life and make things hard for me. After crying a bunch about these early experiences I was able to get a clearer perspective on the current situation. My biggest skill in this new world is being a good listener and showing up. 

I am a mother of two young children. I parent them solo a lot of the time and most evenings. I have to make focused decisions on the right kind of actions and demonstrations to take for them too. I will have to notice, which move will be about love, strength, and caring versus anger, dejection and fighting. I also have to be a steadfast beam of hopeful light in this dark and divisive sea. I already feel like I have said to too much in front of them. I will have to apologize a lot in the coming months as my emotions run towards the same hate I am preaching against. The people that voted for Trump are not the problem. These people actually want change as much as I do. I just want to go about it in a different way. I want a world where we live in harmony with nature, where money is not at the center of our universe and instead caring for each other and the planet are the most important things.

I got a bee in my bonnet last week. I was ready to take action. A friend sent me a Facebook message. The event was a chance to show solidarity to our Muslim neighbors. The organization CAIR Oklahoma was having a gala honoring Muslim Americans. The task was to welcome them to the event. We wanted to say we don't believe in Trump's agenda and we care about you and will stand up to people that throw hate in your direction.

The second I walked down the escalator to the event center with my two lovely daughters in my arms and by my side, tears came into my eyes. The hallway was lined with 100's of people from all walks of life spreading their message of love. These folks were just like me, sickened by the week’s events and trying to do something. 

I decided the kids could be a little extra tired that night. I would go and see how peaceful it was and leave if I felt like the children or I were in any danger. I decided it was ok for my back to hurt holding my 17 month old in a front carrier standing the whole time. I called my friends ahead of time and made sure they were going with their kids so Sweetpea would have others to play with. I decided that doing something was a lot better then hiding out in my home, overdosing on social media, sugar and fear.

It made a difference. Sometimes you do something and it’s hard to tell what difference you made. This can lead to discouragement and makes it hard to do more things. This event showed me how huge this was for this group of people. Holding signs stating  "Your voice is heard," "We welcome you as neighbors and friends" and "We will not let them target you." I watched as the attendees of the event walked up and down the hallway, glowing with tears in their eyes. I was hugged; people kissed my children and thanked them and me for being there. Some attendees walked down the hall with their phones on video broadcasting our action for all their community to see. They walked down the tunnel of love and respect we made for them. I was over come with emotion. Spreading love is the real power. Standing by people's side that are targeted with oppression, saying I will not stand for this is how we will get our message across.

We are bigger then the haters in this country right now. We are better equipped and more organized than we ever have been before. Americans don't want Trump, they want change and we on the left are now charged with the task of insuring that change is for the better. I am a mostly white European decent middle class female; other than sexism I could easily hide from the abuse. I am choosing not to. This is a choice I will have to make regularly these days. I will not stay silent.  Trump is not my president; he never will be.

Adult Unschooling

Definition of Unschooling: An educational method and philosophy that advocates learner-chosen activities as a primary means for learning.

By Diala Brisly

One cold, January morning earlier this year, I told my partner, “let’s take this year to get our finances in order, no big trips, just focus on work that will pay off our debt and get us in a better place to do more of the things we want.” It sounded good to both of us. I was a little sad to put off seeing family and friends we love far away, but felt I was making the proper kind of adult decision a family with small children should make. Then life happened. My job became something I didn't want to do anymore. I got so inspired by the book I was listening to, "Last Child in the Woods," that I decided I couldn't wait any longer to follow my life path of teaching the skills of sustainability and living in connection with the earth.

I struck out, I quit my job and went rogue. I started my own business: Under The Canopy.  I am in month four of being a small business owner and it is going well. Currently, Under The Canopy consists of two after school programs and a series of workshops. I hold all my classes outside teaching about nature and how to connect to a deeper sense of place. It is a lot of work, but my passions in the driver’s seat and my family is supporting me. 

I can see how a life of unschooling has led me to this point. As a teenager I dropped out of mainstream education. I was thirteen and my mom and I decided I could take a "break" for 8th grade. I was unhappy at school. I always struggled with the way school was taught and I also was having trouble with the social dynamics of the middle school we chose. I went from a sweet public elementary down the street from my house, to a stiff upper-lipped prep school in another town where I knew no one. In elementary I was co-editor of the school newspaper; I was known as the writer and had a close group of girlfriends. In middle school I was an outcast, from the tough streets of my hometown, a much more urban environment then those posh suburbs.  I started getting low grades even in English, my favorite subject. There was less and less creative writing and more essays focused on correct grammar rather than the flowery, poetic, language my romantic heart loved to use.

We viewed taking a break as a chance for me to homeschool for a year before I entered high school. After leaving the prep school I was down trodden and spent a lot of my time watching TV.  I wanted to check out from the world. As I started to shed the layers of self-consciousness and slowly rebuild my self-esteem I saw the whole beautiful world that lay before me for the taking. I met a bunch of "unschooled" teenagers, youth that had never gone to traditional school, forging their own paths, working in the world and following their interests not based off of what they should be learning. I found a community in these “unschoolers”.  I decided on a plan, and I was not going back to school.

Fast-forward many years later to my adulthood. I worked many jobs as a young adult, lots of nanny gigs and clerk jobs in small shops. I knew I could pull off the unschooling as a teen because I had my parents backing me. As a young adult I wondered how unschooling would look now that I was grown up. I got a sense of what adulthood would look like and figured out a myriad of ways to side step all the boring BS I saw other young adults going through. I got a high paying, low hours, very precarious, job as a nanny. Being a nanny you never knew when the family would change their mind and not need you anymore. I made good money but rarely had the job security other more regular jobs come with. I worked as a nanny till I had enough money to travel for a few months. I would go off on an adventure, come back and repeat the process. I became interested in going to art school in my early 20's and did what I had always done when I had a new goal. I broke down the steps it would take to get me there. I got my GED and applied to college. I got in to my first choice school that did not use traditional grades and had an interdisciplinary liberal arts focus. I was also eligible for in-state tuition and being twenty four, not reliant on anyone else’s income, I was eligible for more money to make it all do-able financially. 

While in school I met my life partner. We decided to be committed to each other and then we got the surprise of our lives, our first child. I was uncertain how to pull off this parenting/unschooling life. One obvious choice would be to leave the financial part of our lives to my partner and be a stay at home mom (SAHM). SAHM's got all the freedom to do what they pleased with kids, play while others worked and it seemed like a good package. I started off SAHMing but two big things hit me with a thud. First, SAHM only truly works if your partner makes enough money that you are not constantly worried about making ends meet. Second, being an unschooler for most of my life I had so much creative ambition, so much zest for life. I wanted to make a bigger dent in the world then just parenting my children. I wanted to carry them along with my vision and parent them while affecting change on a grander scale. I had also been a nanny for many years, caring for young people was grand but I wanted more, I also wanted to work with adults and not always be in the care giver role.

I started looking for work with strict criteria. Being a recent college grad, in Austin, a new city, with a young child, and without the exorbitant amounts of money it costs to put a child in day care, it was slim pickings. I was thinking,  “this job better be worth leaving my kid, it better make enough money to pay for her childcare, and it better be fun and engaging”. It took me two years to find a job of this nature. Still, precarity followed. I got a job working at an after school program teaching art and social justice. It was perfect for me creatively. I got paid enough, I got to make art, write fun curriculum, work with interesting artists and activists, and be a leader. It was all the things I could want in a job. It was also part time work that changed seasonally. I was moved to different schools and had long stretches during school breaks where I made no money at all. Finding childcare for just the afternoons to make it all financially do-able was super challenging. Still the pros out weighed the cons and I stuck with it, picking up holiday shop work when I was off for too long. I found a flexible in-home day care Sweetpea loved that would have her just in the afternoons. It felt like I sort of had it made. I had a really fun job and I got to be with my family a lot. The uncertainty was hard going though, never knowing when the next job would be and where. We also started desiring other things, like a home we could set roots in, a weekly connection with family. We were ready to settle and Austin didn't feel like the place to do it.

We moved to Tulsa two and a half years ago. Upon arriving I got a job doing visitor services and programming at a public garden. The garden was dreamy work, flexible with my child care schedule, not too many hours, and the biggest plus: stability. My hours were set. This was a great thing until it became not a great thing. After 2 ½ years of being locked into a low pay non-profit job I was feeling the urge to move on. I still felt like we were scraping by and the only ways to move up in my organization was doing more stuff I didn't want to do. It was time to follow my bigger vision for teaching sustainability. Under The Canopy was born.

So here I am, a full-fledged adult in my mid-30's with two kids, a life partner, a mortgage and a degree. I am also now officially an adult unschooler.  I am living authentically, financially soundly, presently for the important work of parenting my dear children and sharing my vision for a sustainable future through the work of nature awareness at Under The Canopy. The next step is helping daddy get a chance to be an adult unschooler.  Our vision is to form a beautiful life doing the things we love with our family at the heart of it. We might be in debt for a while, we might not be able to travel for a while, but you can be sure we are following our dreams. Wish us luck!

 

 

The Checks of Shame

I receive WIC.  Women, Infants, and Children (WIC) is a government-subsidized program designed to help low income families pay for groceries, promote health and breast feeding. You can sign up when you are pregnant and stay enrolled if your income is still low enough to qualify, until your child is 5. I have been on WIC with both my kids. I got it when I was first pregnant with Sweet pea and now I get it with Pickle. Apparently my mom used to get WIC back in the day when I was little. WIC has been a great breastfeeding support system for me. They gave me a free electric breast pump and all the pump parts right after having Pickle. While I am super grateful that I get a significant discount on groceries every month I often wonder at what cost. 

WIC is not a delightful experience. Because the government subsidizes WIC, the food is very specific, down to the ounces of how much you can get of one thing. WIC allows only generic brands, nothing quality, just the basics. This specificity leads to many mistakes. In the beginning I would screw up all the time. A 16oz loaf of bread can be hard to find. There is no handy swipe card, in Oklahoma you get big checks with the items written out on them. In the 2 years that we have been on WIC since moving here I have had a total of one pleasant, pain free interaction when using WIC. As I am writing this I can't believe it either. Really, just one in two years!

I have come to call WIC the checks of shame. “Time to go do my checks of shame shopping!” I shout as I leave the house on Monday with a sarcastic grin across my face.

There I am, scanning the aisles trying to find the shortest line with the most competent looking cashier. I have tried to strategize when I go WIC shopping to avoid a long impatient line behind me. In the middle line, is a free space, I wedge my cart in. Time to put on my sing, song, happy go lucky voice as I hand over my checks. “I am doing WIC first. “ I say calmly. The cashier is an older woman who already looks terrified. I remember to put my cloth shopping bags in front and let the bagger know to fill them all the way up. I often end up with 4 plastic bags at the end, even when I bring my own bags. Oklahoma still has not figured out yet that I bring bags because I don’t want plastic.

I cheerily put forward my WIC items, cleanly separated out, meticulously scrutinized for the proper ounces and brands. I think maybe this time it will go smoothly. I give her the first check, the easy one.  All there is on this check is milk, eggs, bread and PB. She spends a lot of time clicking buttons before she has to call her supervisor over to remind her how to do WIC. I wait patiently. I try to coach her on what to push, since I have watched every mistake ever done by a cashier. I point at another cashier I recognize in the line over and say, “she can help, she has helped me before. “ No dice, guess I should have noticed her line before this one. The supervisor comes, does a quick tutorial and we are back in business. First check down, I am in good spirits, than I go in for the kill. $12 of fruits and vegetables. According to my mini WIC encyclopedia I get to have fresh produce, it can be organic vegetables, pre-washed greens, all $12 worth for a month! Maybe for some $12 of produce is significant but for our family it barely buys 2 meals. Still free food, is free food, so I put down the check and wait. A calm before the storm.

The cashier starts up her process then after the first vegetable she rings up, it says, this is not a WIC item. She tells me flatly “This is not a WIC item.” Like every other week I get out my mini encyclopedia and explain to her that yes, any and all vegetable and fruit are game for my $12. She calls the supervisor over again. This time I am getting hot around the face. I now have 2 other folks behind me, “this will be awhile” I tell the women behind me. She does not budge. Then I realize I recognize the other women behind her. It’s a friend. This friend is probably one of the best people to run into in this scenario.  She and her family are chill and sweet people who are thoughtful in trying situations. I am trying to play it cool as we wait. We start chatting about the church we both go to. Its pleasant but I am also distracted by how long this is taking. I am really heating up by the time the supervisor arrives and saves the day with his “special card.” She can now finish ringing up my $12 of produce.

One more complication arises. I got too many vegetables. In this case often the cashier will just add my extra veggies to my non-WIC items. Only this cashier really did not know what she was doing. She wanted cash. I reach into my wallet and hand over $5. That was supposed to go to something else. It sucks that money is so tight $5 feels like too much to give.

I say thank you, say goodbye to my friend, and wheel out into the spring air. It is when I get to my car I realize the bagger switched halfway though that transaction and gave me 3 plastic bags. I get in my car and cry.
At least once a month I come home crying after a WIC trip. The mark of being low-income stings. It’s so confusing and hard I often wish we did not qualify for it at all.

But we do, and until we do not qualify I cannot see any way of not taking the free food.

From Hyperbole and A Half Blog

The Burning Hot Nanas

There is a "gentleman’s club" my daughter and I pass on the way to her Pre-K. It is a place right in the middle of a busy, family oriented neighborhood strip. Her dance school is a few blocks down, its surrounded by a vet office, plant nursery, restaurant and violin shop. I don't know how the club came to be there but there it is, right in our faces as we drive from point A to point B. I find the place sleazy & do my best to ignore it.

One day my very observant Pre-K kid asked me about the place. "Mama, why is there a picture of burning hot nanas on that building?" (nanas is a friendly term for breasts we used when she was breast feeding, pronounced nah-nahs.) The strip club has its name emblazoned on a red sign with women's nude torsos engulfed in flames. This is it, that horrible moment where I have to decide how to explain to my daughter the exploitation of women in our culture. I rack my brain for the most simplified response I can imagine. "Well, honey, the person that owns that business put up that sign. What do you think of that sign?" a pause from the back seat, "I don't like it." Neither do I honey." Another pause, then she says, "We should tell them to take it down. " I said “yes that is a great idea."

After our talk I was motivated and ready to put pen to paper and give this business a piece of my mind! But by the time we got home a million other thoughts had swept through my head and we were onto the next thing. We pass by this place a few times a week. Since  the initial conversation Sweetpea sometimes notices the nanas and sometimes does not.  When she does notice she says. "I don't like that sign, let’s tell them to take it down." I have told her to not look if it bothers her. I have told her yes it bothers me too and I agree we should ask to have it taken down. Finally after many excuses I told her we will write to them she just needs to remind me when we are home and by paper and pen.


I started to get a daily reminder, "Remember mama to write to the place with the burning hot nana sign." This reminder comes to me in the same vein as " Remember to take out the garbage." I tuck her into bed and she reminds me to write the place with the burning hot nana sign. I am fixing her snack and she reminds me again. Its incredible how something so intense and confusing as talking about sexual exploitation of women has become such a run of the mill conversation in my home.

One night I finally set the wheels in motion and started the letter. I am tired of feeling worn down by offensive media. I am tired of accepting the BS that says this world is just crappy and we can't do anything about it.  Even if they don't take down the sign I know it’s important to write the letter. It’s important because I want to show my daughter that we can try to make change. She needs to know that we can state our opinions no matter what. Also, that stating her opinion makes things better. In my ideal world there would not even be a strip club my daughter and I would have to interact with. Confronting the burning hot nanas is giving us a chance to say what we want in our community with our voices. This is a powerful step against sexism and towards empowerment even if the nanas continue to burn.

Foot note: To all women/mothers working in the biz and ex-sex workers this is not about what you do. We all have to make money and for some this is the most reliable option. I salute you in your efforts to pay bills and raise families as a female in this society. We are all in this together.

   

  

The Value Of Adventure

Recently a fellow mom friend and I were talking. We were discussing all the amazing adventures we had in our young adult lives. We longed for that fresh-eyed perspective of youth, having new ground to walk on, new people to talk to and new sensory experiences that drew us to the present. As we have both gotten older, we have chosen to have families and the days of wild abandon had shifted. We missed that aspect of ourselves. 

By, Rosa Mund-Zander

As much as we were happy with the lives we had chosen, that need for adventure was sadly neglected. We talked about the realities of being lower income and money going to meet the basic needs of our family. We also talked about how it’s different adventuring with small children and or your partner, trying to meet everyone's needs and your own at the same time.

The conversation boiled down to we both felt like we did not have enough adventure, and how it was a value of ours. Re framing adventure as a value suddenly made this big ever present desire in me spark to life. I have spent a lot of my motherhood down playing this need of mine. It is always last on the list of what we need to put energy or money toward. My husband has been a huge stumbling block in the way of this value. He does not mean to be. He just feels that one of us has to be the practical one in this regard, so he takes on that role. It has been a source of discontentment sense we became parents. 

By, James Richards for wanderarti blog

Usually the conversation goes like this:" let’s go somewhere fun this year! I want to see our friends in the NW." To which he replies, "We can't afford that." "There are all different ways to travel, what about frequent flyer miles etc." "We need to pay off debt before we can go into more debt." Most of the time I feel ashamed of this desire, like I am not putting the needs of my family first. Why would I want to do something as frivolous as travel?

By re framing adventures into a value I looked at the situation differently. If I don't have fresh perspective, my creativity suffers. I become more jaded and melancholy. I can't enjoy the experiences in front of me as easily. I parent better when I have fresh eyes and new experiences under my belt. I can share this value with my children, and they see the spark of life in their mom and get excited too.

I am a restless soul and adventure is an important thing to honor in myself. By hiding this need I am hiding a big part of the magic that is me and I am not ok with that.

By, Candace Rardon on Wanderarti blog

So how do you do it? I am still figuring that out. It started with a big conversation with my husband. I let him know adventures were a value of mine and I could not neglect it even though money is very tight. Just saying this out loud helped to get the conversation going. I have also made a list of the adventures I want to have this year. These are my heart felt intentions and goals. I am not sure how they will happen, but just setting the intention makes me feel excited.

I am also narrowing my focus on what are things I see as necessary places to go, verses any whim or passion. I am assembling a list of local adventures to keep fresh eyes on the place I am living now. When I read about a new ethnic restaurant or market, it goes on to the list.  When I hear about a neat hiking trail, a good swimming hole or camping spot, they all go on the list. I also keep a list of adventures I want to have with the family and what I want to do alone or with friends. It is so good to prioritize self-adventures where I only have to meet my needs. Also to be ready for a family adventure knowing it will look different and be about the needs of all of us.

Seeing the value in adventures is leading me to show myself more while being a mom. It’s a win win.