Getting There

It may be that we've already had to have the house closed up, ac blasting for days at a time.  It may be that yet AGAIN only about half of my plants and seeds and perennials seem to be thriving (oh those hungry bunnies).  It may be that for the first year I'm feeling the pinch of the end of scheduled activities, days all at once feeling too long, and not in the good way I'd hoped.  For whatever reason, I'm already longing for fall.

You see, I don't really like the heat.  I am SO much more comfortable in my sweater leggings and oversized Montana henley sweater.  It it easier to be outside enjoying nature when it's below 80, easier to play, easier to sleep, easier to cook, just easier.

So here I find myself at the beginning of a long summer, one that most certainly has the potential to be both great and really really hard, already at a bit of a loss.  Surely a tidge grumpy and unfocused. After a long hard day Thursday I decided to take charge, to revamp.  Try to fix the things that aren't working in our days, try to redirect energys and attentions.  Today, I feel ready.

The Creative Family, by Amanda Blake Soule

The first thing I did was pick up my old standby and start from the beginning.  I know I've spoken ad-nauseum about this book, but I just can't help it.  As I reread the introduction, whole passages underlined in fine pencil from previous readings, it was an awakening all over again, as it is every time I read it.  We all have those "ah ha" moments in life.  One of my biggest ones was reading this book.

I could go on and on about the inspirational writing, simple brilliant ideas to draw family closer and keep all of our creative spirits alive, and I would too, but this time it wasn't about the writer's words or her own tales about creativity with her cute kids, it was all my own.

You see, while reading this book yet again it struck me WHY this ideal world of creativity and patience and endless joy exists so rarely for me.  I'm not there yet.  I get flustered when my girls don't follow directions, when it takes us a half our just to get out the door.  I feel defeated when I lay out an exciting project for them, only to have Ainsley immediately tell me she'd rather do something else and Louise toddle off with her own agenda.  So I stop trying, at least for a few days.  Let us all watch a little too much Mary Poppins or Little House, and then I feel awful.  I feel like I've wasted precious hours and days with my girls.  It's become a vicious cycle, one I am suddenly determined to change.

I realized last night that I need to get there first, before I can bring my kids along.  If I'm not in a place of calm and focus and creativity, how can I expect them to be?

After rereading the intro and skimming the pages I put my book down, grabbed a sheet of lined paper and went to work.  I first thought of myself, my own days, what makes the best ones the best and the worst ones so hard.

Me?
I need quiet time, quiet independent time to do something of my choosing.
I need creative time, time to make something.
I need productive time, time to check just one thing off the neverending list.
I need active time, time to move and sweat and invigorate.
I need cooking time, real time to focus on the preparation of good food for my family.
I need learning and teaching time, time to expand my mind, time to teach my girls all the things of the world.
I need outdoor time, time to breathe fresh air (even cold rainy air).

These things are the making of my perfect day.
And the bad days?  Those are the days that either sore too fast or linger forever.  The unmotivated days or the days filled too full to stop and enjoy my children and my life.

I sat back and looked at my list, then flipped the page over and jotted down a trial day with the girls.  As I went through our normal routine, alloting for time for errands and quiet nap time I was inspired to realize that most days there is time for all of this.  This is all possible now in a day because I have two little girls, not babies, who can be so helpful and watchful and motivated when I myself am.

So I woke up this morning just that way.  Took extra calm breaths during the frustrating parts and zoomed forward.

Today we've eaten family oatmeal breakfast, while mapping out our day and chatting about what we're thankful for.
Today we've brushed teeth and made beds, done two loads of laundry and cleaned the downstairs bathroom.
Today we bought groceries for the weekend, and two blueberry and strawberry plants.
Today Ainsley held tight to her sample cherry pit and planted it tenderly in our tiny pumpkin patch, eager to watch it grow.
Today my girls and I drew plans for a Little House play set.  We mixed up some plaster and made our contributions.  Ainsley made Old Man Tucker.  Louise made Pa.  I made a wonky sheep.  They're all dry and ready to paint.
Today we made bedtime bags out of the rest of the vintage sheets.  My girls helped me measure and cut and I just sewed the last handle on now.

Right now it is 1:41pm, and we've done so much. Moving at my girls' pace, re-instituting chores and enlisting their help with a calm learning patient heart has made for a remarkable morning.

I know all days won't be like today, and that even in the best days there will be moments of frustration.  But I'm getting there, in fact today I felt pretty fully there.  I may not be able to to much about the summer swelter but I can surely make our days what I desire them to be.