Neighbors!

When we bought our house, there were two others for sale on the block. Part of a development deal gone sour, they had been vacant for a while. The copper had been ripped out of the walls, stained glass windows stolen.

Because we had a cheerfully apathetic approach to the whole house hunting process, it did not occur to us that buying a property on the border of two of the most economically depressed neighborhoods in Pittsburgh and adjacent to 2 abandoned houses that were owned by a bankrupt development company might be a bit of a PITA. And that we might spend a lot of time over the next two years on the phone with various city government officials. And even more time chasing vagrants, drug dealers and junkies away.

Today, our neighbors are moving in. We went on the tour of the house yesterday and it is Unbelievable.

M and I are feeling inspired. To us, a house you own is nice because you don't have to move, you don't share walls with crackheads who shout out strange phrases in the middle of the night, and there's lots and lots of room for jars of fermented things (that's all M).

We are less fond of the responsibilities that come with it. Like worrying about whether the chimney is going to blow over and crush our brand new car in the 40 mph winds that blew through the other day. Who was supposed to call the mason?! Not me, I thought you were going to take care of it. And our current home security system consists of a refrigerator parked in front of the back door. (Ain't nobody getting in that door now!)

I have friends who bought houses they fell in love with. They have Pinterest boards to organize their design ideas, and spend their weekends changing tile and repainting the walls. I want to live in their houses. I want a magic fairy to come and fix up my house.

I know that in reality, nobody is going to come and do that and I'm going to spend a lot of time on the weekends painting and hemming curtains.

However, now that we have neighbors, it seems like a better investment.

Life Around Here

It's Saturday morning, about 8 o'clock. We've been up since before 6, because once Laurel gets up we make the same mistake of thinking she'll go back to sleep if we bring her into our bed, but she kicks us and wiggles and touches our closed eyes to get them to open and we give up on sleeping in after about 10 minutes and all come downstairs and make (gluten-free, dairy-free) pancakes.

By 7:30, we were done with breakfast and playing a little guitar-ukelele-djembe and watching the snow fall.

There had already been several disagreements over things like sitting on the arm of the chair at the dining room table and pretending to ride a donkey. I want to be really consistent about manners, but Laurel sounds so funny when she says "hee-haw" that I laugh every time. It's hard to discipline a child when you are laughing. I worry that she'll grow up and go to other people's houses for dinner and not have good manners. But really, I worry that her behavior will be seen as a reflection of my poor parenting.

I had a conversation with a parent this week. I have her son in class, and he's basically a good kid. A little ADD, and a little unfocused, because you know, he's 14 and doesn't know what he wants out of life yet. But basically polite, curious, friendly, cooperative, and funny....all of my favorite qualities in a kid. The mom was relaying some of the mistakes he had made over the past few months, and expressing her concerns about, well...how is a kid who can't remember his zip code going to make it in the world.

It's really hard to just take a deep breath and remind yourself to allow your children the freedom and autonomy to take some risks and do some things on their own, based on their own motivation and decisions and control.

We love it when we allow them to take risks and they surprise us with their independence and success.

We cringe when they take a risk and it turns messy, unpleasant, or embarrassing.

We care about our kids so much that we want to take those icky feelings of I-messed-up and just feel them ourselves so they don't have to. We blame ourselves for not teaching them Absolutely Everything About the World so they wouldn't make those mistakes. We act as if their mistakes are our mistakes.

Resist that urge. Let them fly. Let them fall.

It's the absolute hardest part of my job - trying to maintain this balance with "my" kids at school. Loving them, even when they are making their own choices. For example, skipping class and hiding out in the nurses office, or drawing a penis with flames on it in the textbook (I should have taken a photo of that. It was a true work of art).

It's a hard part of parenting, too. Especially parenting a toddler.

Mud

Laurel and I just arrived home from a walk in the park. Muddy pants and red noses. The highlight of this walk was seeing two goldfish in the little pond, or perhaps walking up a "mountain" (according to Laurel). We didn't walk very far, or go anywhere new. However, if you spend time in the woods, you know a tree never looks the same way twice...the sunlight or cloud cover, time of day, and season always give you a new perspective.

I'm reading Richard Louv's the Nature Principle right now. While his last book focused more on how exposure to nature impacts children, this book talks a lot about mental health in adults. Or lack thereof.

I can give you a lot of reasons why I hate my job. But one I hadn't thought of before is that I spend almost 8 hours a day in windowless classrooms. Last month I was prescribed a diet by my acupuncturist, and in addition to what to eat or avoid, there was the instruction to eat mindfully. Do nothing else during meals, except chew. If you are a teacher, you know the temptation is strong to work through lunch. I'm sure it's that way in a lot of professions. But I started to take my lunch (of gluten-free grains and roasted root vegetables. yum.) to the teacher work center, plop down in front of the windows and just stare at the woods on the other side of the tennis courts. Seeing natural light, and trees and birds, and observing the weather is probably as therapeutic as chewing slowly.

This simple action was jolting to me because I hadn't realized just how removed I had become from the outdoors.

Louv doesn't say that we all need to move to the country in order to have exposure to nature. Our proximity to a large urban park is good enough - if we actually get out there. Laurel walking almost a mile to daycare everyday puts her in a better position than a lot of kids...think of how many kids don't even really know the discomfort of rain or cold, because they are ushered between home and school and activities in a climate-controlled vehicle and spend only moments of their day exposed to the elements.

I've learned this lesson before. It was only after hiking about a hundred miles or so of the Appalachian Trail that I felt the first effects of living outdoors and spending a lot of time hearing - not quiet - but the more subtle sounds of nature. After a thousand miles of hiking I felt grounded and accepting of my place in the world. After two thousand, I could not imagine living any other way.

It's a lesson I'm relearning now.

Sunday Night Blues

Sunday night, and while the rest of the world watches the Super Bowl, I'm steaming greens for peanut butter spinach. Packing lunches and laying out clothes for tomorrow.

For the last couple of weeks, my friend and her daughter have been coming over to play after school and to eat dinner. They like it because she doesn't work, and the excuse to get out of their house is nice. I like it, because an extra set of hands and some adult conversation at the dinner table is a welcome change from the usual.

Tonight at dinner, I was tired of talking about Thomas and his friends, so I said, "Laurel, the Super Bowl is tonight."

"For me?" she asked.

"No, it's the most important football game of the year. It has nothing to do with you. Who are you rooting for?"

"Maybe we can watch Thomas," she said.

You see what I mean about needing adult conversation?

In positive news, I went running this weekend! Twice. First I've been out in several months on account of my bad health. I felt pretty good and I think I'm going to credit chinese medicine. I've had three weeks of acupuncture and a bit of mayan abdominal massage and I actually feel somewhat human again. I cooked up another bunch of beets and sweet potatoes for my wheat-free, dairy-free lunch. Can't wait to start another day with green tea instead of coffee (can you detect a bit of resistance lingering?).

It's not so much that I dread Mondays. My job can exhaust me (emotionally needy and sometimes hostile teenagers who have a poor grasp of socially appropriate behavior, and no desire to learn math...that sounds like fun company, doesn't it?). But I don't hate it. At least it's not boring.

I just never want the weekends to end. I miss Laurel as soon as I put her to bed on Sunday night. If all goes well, she's still asleep when I leave for work and I don't see her until the afternoon. I see M even less...perhaps an hour or two in between the time he gets home and when I go to bed. They are my two favorite people, and I hardly even see them for 5 out of 7 days.

I know everybody else does this, but I'm not sure this is how families are supposed to be.

Why You Don't Need Toys

Packing paper from recent IKEA purchase + googly eyes + washable markers.

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Is Fit go?

M and I bought a car today. It's bright red, and brand new, and very spiffy.

This was a new experience for us. M drove his last car for almost 12 years. (Remember back in 2006 when Sandy hit 90,000 miles while we were driving a lazy, counterclockwise loop around the country?) The car we most recently had been driving belonged to my grandmother, and was also nearing 12 years old. I never really got over the time the brakes failed while we were driving with another couple to birthing class. I barely knew Sarah at the time, and I'm happy to report our friendship remains strong, despite this terrifying event. Anyway, we decided the repairs that need to be done soon are not worth it, so we traded it in.

M made me promise that we would not eat in the car (the cheddar bunny situation got a little out of hand in the Taurus), and to wash the salt off on a regular basis.

The Fit is subcompact, but feels surprisingly roomy. Since M did most of the work researching the car and negotiating the price, he got first dibs on driving it. But I got my turn soon after that. Laurel was all for getting a new car, as long as it was red.

One of my favorite things about the car was that the carseat was ridiculously easy to install. Previously, I would always end up sweaty and cursing after fighting with seat belt straps. The Latch hooks were clearly marked and easy to reach. Also, we've been listening to our music via the old-school tape deck adapter. Boo for sound quality with that set up. However, now we can just plug our phones right in and the music plays from the radio. You can even change it from a button on the steering wheel!

So, Fit is definitely go! And I smell a road trip in the near future!

General Updates

Shortly after rocking out to Patti Smith, I was hit by a stomach flu. However, I am happy to report that I recovered quickly, and it also gave me a window of opportunity to wean myself off coffee. I love coffee. I love cupping my hands around a warm mug during winter morning breakfast. I love an after dinner espresso. I love smelling coffee beans right after they are ground. And one of the few pleasures of teaching early morning algebra classes, is doing so while sipping a travel mug of coffee. Even though it's usually the cheap Maxwell House stuff my coffee club friends at school bring in and not the fancy, single origin, fair trade stuff my dad and M are into.

Last week I had my first acupuncture appointment, and I was given a diet designed to cure my "dampness". Chinese medicine says that I have an imbalance in my yin and my yang and a dampness in my organs. Especially my spleen. So all week, I ate a lot of gluten-free porridge, blueberries, and root vegetables. I cut out the dairy and the coffee. I took some probiotics, and applied castor oil packs. No tropical fruits. No alcohol.

Sigh.

I guess I feel better. I always feel better on Fridays, though.

So, in toddler news, Laurel had several playdates this week. The most interesting thing about the toddler crew these days is that they all talk in mostly comprehensible ways, and they play together. Well, mostly they fight about sharing things. But sometimes they play together. While M and I were down with the stomach flu last weekend, she watched approximately 24 hours of television. One of the DVDs we got from the library was The Pigeon Finds a Hot Dog - which I personally enjoyed as an adult, and found much less annoying than Thomas the Train. Anyway, there was a line from the book, "I have a question. I have never eaten a hot dog before."

Laurel must have said this to us a thousand times this week. And before we realized she was quoting the movie, we kept saying "That's not a question!" or "You've never eaten a hot dog because you are a vegetarian!"

One of the most delightful parts of the day is sitting down with M after Laurel goes to bed and sharing our stories about what she said to us. He told me that this week she wanted to talk about trees and roots. She spent a lot of time with me saying "nice to see you, Mama" and shaking my hand.

And in news about M, well, he just discovered how to make microwave popcorn by just putting regular old kernels into a paper bag and sticking it in the microwave. It turns out that all the crap they put in commercial microwave popcorn really is just crap and is not needed to make the corn pop. If you put oil on, it kind of burns. Thanks a lot, Alton Brown.

So, life is good, same as ever.

Space Monkey

L requests Patti Smith. And then we all rock out.

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How many kids in Pittsburgh...

...can say they get to school by sled?

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