Equinox

Guest Post by Lynn Shattuck, a writer in Portland, Maine 

It was the first day of spring, despite the foot of snow most of us Mainers just got. A day of hope, when the amount of daylight is finally equal to the amount of darkness.

It was also the anniversary of my brother's death; fourteen years ago, my only sibling died of an accidental drug and alcohol overdose. Because it had been over a decade, I wasn't prepared for it to be an exceptionally hard day. 

But after I dropped both kids off at daycare and sat down at my home office to work, I felt a pit of something dense and hard in my chest. 

After I worked for awhile, I grumbled around the house by myself, managing to inject my cloudy mood into the most mundane household tasks: I shut the door to the laundry machine just a smidge too hard. I pouted as I wiped down the kitchen counters. 

Finally, I did what I knew would at least dislodge my emotions. I sat down and wrote my brother a letter.

Dear Will. I am still mad that you died. Mad that you left me here, a suddenly only child. Mad that you won’t be here for my beautiful babies—for Max who reminds me so much of you, who loves music like you did, who has your same big blue eyes.

I was mad that the only other human in the world who understood what it was like to be raised in our particular home, with our particular parents, was gone due to his own poor choices. So I told him that. And of course, underneath the bruised thick skin of anger was a soft, fleshy sadness.

It still breaks me to think of how you left.

As I strung the words together, I had a good, body-wracking sob. Every cell of my body was droopy with grief. 

Usually after that type of cry, I feel some relief and my mood will shift. But for the rest of the morning and early afternoon, I still felt very, very off. 

And then my kids came home. And they were both on the grumpy side at first, too. But Max asked for a dance party to Put me in Coach, and we twirled around the living room together for a few minutes, letting the music sink into our bodies and lift us up a bit. Afterwards, Max pointed out four smudgy squares of sunlight on the kitchen wall, stenciled by the late afternoon sun streaming through the window. “I want to play hopscotch on the wall,” he announced. I stared at the squares for a long time, the literal imprint of lightness. “I wish we could,” I told Max.

My husband, knowing I’d had a hard day, fetched takeout for us, and while we finished eating, we watched the kids huddle together watching a movie. They took turns putting their arms around one another. “Bru-bru, Bru-bru,” Violet kept saying, her word for “brother.” “Can Violet have some M&M’s?” Max pleaded. “No, sweetie. She’s too little.” (Watch for future posts on how to wean your kids from candy and television.)

I watch the way that Max loves Violet, watches for her every move, shares most anything he has to give with her. And of course I loved you like that, of course I mothered you like that.

And it was bittersweet. To watch my current family of four on the anniversary of the day when my first family of four lost a member. To witness the love that blooms between siblings from simply sharing the same space in time, from sharing the same parents. 

And then the day was over. I put Violet to bed as the daylight waned. I asked the universe to give my kids long and lovely lives, as I do every night. 

I pray that you are somewhere warm and safe. I pray that you are somewhere.

Knowing that the next day, there would be a bit more day than night. 

Coping with the Winter Why's

A Guest Post by Lynn Shattuck, writer and mother of two

“Mom, why are you stopping?” Max asks from the backseat.

“Because it’s a red light.”
“But why?”
“Because…because we have to take turns with the other cars,” I sigh.
“But why? Why, Mom?”
“So we don’t get in an accident, Maxie.”
“Oh,” he says, and for a sliver of a second he is quiet. Blissfully quiet.

Sitting at the red light, I practice the breath we do sometimes in yoga, where we breathe in for three counts and out for five. Three, fo-

“Mom? Why is the gym there?”
“I don’t know. It just is.”
“Why is Violet asleep?”
“Because babies need lots of sleep,” I sigh. Because she was tired of listening to your questions and fell into the sweet release of sleep, I think, envious.

I pull up to the gas station. “I’m going to put some gas in the car, Maxie. I’ll be right back.”
“But w--“

I close the door a bit more forcefully than necessary. Breathing in the rich smell of spilled gasoline, I glance at Max through the window. He is smiling at me. His lips are still moving.

 

Maybe it is the winter with the light deprivation and snow-covered playgrounds. Maybe it is because my four-year-old’s constant questions remind of how little I actually know. Or maybe it is because my sweet, easygoing Buddha baby girl has suddenly morphed into a separation anxiety-riddled Drama Mama who clings to me like a fifth limb. Whatever the cause, lately, my patience has been nil.

 I’ve put together a list of tools that have helped me to stave off the winter grumpies:

Dance Party. When I am at my wits end, the last thing I usually feel like is busting a move. But I will say that it’s very hard for one to take oneself seriously when attempting the Gangnam Style pony dance. The kids like it, too. Frugal hint: My kids aren’t old enough to notice that I just use the preview button on iTunes to play songs that I don’t want to buy (or watch on YouTube with potentially inappropriate content).

 
Write a Song. Getting my son to wash his hands after using the bathroom can sometimes be a battle. Similarly to the dance party, it’s hard to be too grouchy if instead, I focus my energy on creating a song about the battle. Not sure that Sani-tize your hands come on! Let’s have a sanitation! will ever catch on, but it shifted my energy.

Picture them grown up.  I have been pregnant or nursing for nearly five years now. So sometimes—many times, I just want everyone to leave the Host Body alone. When my four-year-old wants one more snuggle and I am just dying to tuck into some trashy TV series on Netflix, I think about what it will be like when he is grown. I wonder how much I would give for one of these little tender moments, his nose pressed to mine. Then again, perhaps I will be so busy going to movies and taking naps and doing yoga and sleeping in that I won’t notice what I’m missing. But I just might.

Sniff something/Drink something. No, not those somethings. When I was quite pregnant with my daughter and my son refused to get into his car seat on a daily basis, I got some aromatherapy oil that was supposed to be relaxing. I huffed that thing so hard and so often that I had little crusty burns on my nostrils. Did it help? Not sure. But just the act of doing something for me made me feel a bit less powerless and gave me something to focus on instead of screeching/swearing/curling up in the fetal position. Making and sipping a cup o’ chamomile tea would work similarly.

Adjust your behavior. One of the things that drives me the most nuts is when I’m trying to talk on the phone or check my emails. The kids immediately seem to smell my need for autonomy and instantly start bellowing demands. I am finding it is unrealistic to think I can read anything longer than a comic strip (do they still make Garfield?) at these times. Trying to do so just sets me up for extra frustration.

Take a break. Perhaps this is the most important tip of all. Trade child care with a friend. Go to the gym. Take turns with your partner. (During recent Winter Storm Nemo, my husband and I took turns escaping to the bedroom to sleep/read/stare at the wall). Go to the gas station and take in the ethereal fountainy sounds of gasoline entering your car.

Have compassion. A dear friend says she often reminds herself that her kids are a bit like little insane people. They don’t have the impulse control yet that we expect adults to. They don’t have logic. It must be hard to have such little control on one’s environment. But remember to have compassion for yourself, too. It’s hard to corral little insane people all day long. Forgive yourself if you yell. Let it go; chances are, if you lose your patience/scream/swear/cry, you will remember it much longer than your little ones.  

 What techniques do you use when you’re about to lose it with your little ones?

Small Change

A Guest Post by Lynn Shattuck, writer and mother of two

 

January. The jewel-toned lights of the holidays disappear. It is cold and dark, and perhaps a twinge of post-holiday letdown lingers in your body. It makes sense that the shiny promise of a brand new year full of hope and possibility would be a welcome beacon.

I am always tempted to make grand resolutions: no TV ever for the kids! Workout so much that I retrieve the body I had when I was 14! Keep the house spotless!

I’ve found that making such big promises sets me up for failure. However, I love the idea of looking back and reflecting on the year that just passed. What worked? What didn’t? What do I want to do differently?

My reflections this year led me to realize a few important things. First, I struggle mightily with consistency. I can keep the house in order for a few days, but before long, toys seep into every corner of the house. Stray laundry lurks in each room. Or, I wean my son off of TV during mealtimes (eek!) for a week, and then he throws an Exorcist-style tantrum and I give in and he is watching Angelina Ballerina on the couch with a cereal bar in his hand.

I know my kids need consistency. I also know that if I take on too many changes at once, I will burn out and stop doing everything. So I’m focusing instead on small daily tasks to create a more peaceful existence: deal with the incoming mail every day. Take the trash out as soon as it is full. Do the dishes at the end of the day. Put the laundry away when it’s done. In short, the mundane tasks of life which have to be done every day for the rest of our lives. I fight it, and I resent it. And yet, when I take these small, consistent actions….it feels good.

The other piece I’ve realized is just as challenging, but a bit more fun. When I had kids, I stopped doing the things that I enjoyed. Not because I wanted to be a martyr, or because I thought it was good for my kids to see a zombie mom with all the joy sucked out of her heart. It’s because of time. There are always a zillion things that I could be doing when I have a free moment; many are those same things that I struggle to be consistent about. Sort the mail. Attempt to match up the 85 tiny pairs of socks that seem to slither about the house like baby rattlesnakes. When I have a free moment, I have become loathe to do something fun for myself.

Sometimes I can barely even remember what I enjoy doing. The quickest way to rediscover it is to think about what I enjoyed doing as a child. Reading, writing, listening to music. Being outside under the trees. Watching movies. These are still my favorite things. In 2013, I’m going to do more of them. It might mean leaving the kids with babysitters or grandparents more often. It might even mean a little less precious sleep. But fun is worth it.

How do you want to fill all those empty, white calendar squares of 2013? What do you want to do differently this year, big or small? 

Miscellaneous Thoughts and Musings...

       I am glad to know that there are people reading this...It keeps me inspired and thinking about reflections to record for all of you folks! Also, As a side note regarding my last post...that Holiday Card wishing my family and friends Peace and Joy in the new year??? Well, I mailed some of them off in the form of an empty envelope with no card inside. It would appear as if I could use some peace...and quiet in this new year that is almost upon us.
       This is always a time of year that I find myself yearning for Simplicity in my daily routine. I find this urge is taken care of with a few weeks of doing things a bit differently than I normally do to calm the stress and sensation of constantly being overwhelmed. As much as I would like, I cannot disappear into the woods and never come back, so these are a few of my fall-backs when things get intense. I thought I would share them with you. Thanks to Lynn's previous Post to making me sit down and think about my coping strategies for stressful and complicated times...

              1. Get back in the kitchen and COOK.... I spend hours on end in my car driving from job site to market, to school pick-ups, to my parents, and back. Nutrition is lacking for a person on the go. Just when I think I couldn't feel worse and more fatigued, I get back in the kitchen. I immediately feel better as I slice into a lemon to squeeze over the Mustard greens that I just sauteed with farm fresh onion and foraged Mushrooms. As Alton Brown once said, “We are fat and sick and dying because we have handed a basic, fundamental and intimate function of life over to corporations. We choose to value our nourishment so little that we entrust it to strangers. This is insanity. Feed yourselves. Feed your loved ones. And for God's sake feed your children."    Remembering this ethos and cooking to it never fails to ground me. 

            2.  I Read....something, anything, that reminds me of my path and the general ideologies that I adhere to... We all have those moments when we know that we could be doing better and we know how to do better, but it's just that initial step back onto our path that is sometimes the hardest. For example-Whenever I feel that I could do better as parent, I also turn to Kim John Paine's Simplicity Parenting. My mother gave me this book when I had just opened up my second business and I was on the edge of the parenting cliff with an infant and a wild toddler, somehow she knew, just as she always does. This book has changed my entire view and "method" of being a mother. I reread it anytime I need a reminder of  how important it is to reduce the unnecessary in our families life and our surroundings....It is also a handy motivator to throw out all of the clutter and junky toys around your house (always a plus). 

         3. Work HARD, harder than ever, and more than usual. This may not work for you, some people can't, or simply don't have the drive to sustain days and weeks of giving a job or task their absolute all. I myself, find it soothing. Taking a day off, or half=a$$ing my work is always a sure fire way to start the guilt wagon. I need to be completely and totally confident and satisfied when I go to relax that I have done everything in the best possible way that I could that day.  Whether its scrubbing baseboards for the cleaning company, mixing up my products, or raising an 80 lb Tent in the hot sun for a five hour market, I need a hard days worth of work to set my mind at ease. There is nothing shameful with having to work manually or laboriously, no matter what our current social culture will say. I do what I need to do and I am proud of it all...too many people are dying slowly inside their cubicles. My physical abilities and work ethic give me a sense of pride...an important aspect of our social emotional health. Like I said, it may not be your cup of tea, but there is nothing like going to bed after you have worked as hard as you possibly could all day...bliss! 

So there is what I do to get grounded and to stay there. Recently,  I have turned back to these three tasks and will probably continue with them until the New Year arrives. Is there anything more Amazing and Inspiring than ending a year and beginning a new one knowing that you have all the tools to implement change in your daily life? -KATE

Tis The Season...

       So Far this December has been a memorable and enjoyably hazy blur of work and valuable time with Dahlia and Greyson. I view the beginning of December as reminder to slow down, take stock, and enjoy the closing of another year.
       I always rolled my eyes when my mother went into "Holiday Patrol Mode"...and now I find myself slipping into her soft and nostalgic ways with a certain ease, as if I hadn't just ended my 'angsty' twenty something years.
        Dahlia and Grey have enjoyed lighting our Advent Candles, reading the Holiday books, and playing with the ultra breakable ornaments on the tree...here is the current score for broken holiday ornaments: Grey-2 Tree-0.

       
     I hope everyone is having an enjoyable season filled with traditions (whatever they may be), family, and lots of food.  Here is the Perrin family Christmas card, some of which I sent out in the form of an empty envelope...whoops!

I Want to Run Away

Guest Post By Lynn Shattuck, a writer and mother of two.

 

I used to fantasize about living in a wood cabin. It would have a cozy, romantic sleeping loft, a simple kitchen and a place to write. I would gaze out the window at pine trees and take long walks. I would have luscious pillows of time to write, play, rest, read and exercise.  

Instead, I live in a lovely old house that has become a jungle of plastic toys. My past week included three birthday celebrations and the inspection of a bigger house that we had under contract. This was on top of taking care of the kids and working after they go to bed at night. On top of attempting to get ready for the impending holidays.

I find myself running from birthday party to playdate, overwhelmed and exhausted. My body pulses with cortisol. I am impatient with my kids. Daylight wanes, evaporating my energy.

Somehow, I have chosen this.

Perhaps the very act of having two children has complicated life immensely. Or maybe it’s because the partner I chose doesn’t yearn for simplicity in the same way I do, and the compromise is a busier life. Maybe in a parallel life, I live off the grid in a little straw house with a husband named Maple, and we pass the days puttering in our organic vegetable garden and washing laundry by hand.

Maybe life isn’t quite so black and white.

Whatever the cause, I find myself in the midst of a life that is busier and more complicated than feels comfortable.

Strangely, the best solution I’ve found has been to add a little more to the swirling chaos.

Usually when I get too busy and overwhelmed, the first things to get squeezed out are acts of self-care. Exercise, healthy foods and water get replaced with extra coffee and comfort foods.

So I’m trying something different, something counterintuitive. I’m adding stuff.

My husband I have been doing the Couch to 5K, using the app on our iPhones (which my parallel life me would surely scoff at). I have never enjoyed running, but lately I have been craving it. I want to be fast, efficient. I want to keep up with myself. So we take turns heading out into the winter air while the other referees the kids. We jog and walk through the nearby cemetery. There is something about moving my body faster that lifts the extra fog from my brain, leaving me sweaty, focused and present. The bare trees (and the gravestones) remind me that nature is slowing down. Everything morphs, every phase passes; the busy ones, the hard ones, the sweet ones.

And while physically moving faster, my brain slows down. The chattering shards of thoughts disperse. My mood lifts. I focus only on getting through the next 20 seconds of running.This reminds my body that I can only do one thing at a time: focus on the next task at hand. Breathe. Hear the crunch of the leaves. Move your body.

Right now, there is no cabin, no simple life. But something about running leaves me able to deal a little better. To meet the chaos with gratitude for this full life, these busy days.

What do you do when things get busier and more complicated than you’d like?

It's a Work in Progress...

           I hate the term "Going Green". When people use those words, I always want to respond, "you mean doing the right thing?" I don't mean to sound pejorative, however, as they say- the truth hurts. Our culture (most cultures now,  thanks to rapid globalization) is drenched in the idea of ease and disposability and I am nowhere near immune. Raising two young children, keeping a home, and owning two companies is exhausting. Sometimes the thought of not doing an extra load of dish towels every two days seems alluring when I think of how quick and dirty paper towels are. Then I think about my paper towel trash sitting in a land fill because I was too lazy to do an extra load of laundry. I was mortified when I bought paper plates for my two year olds birthday party. (insert excuse here).
         I always like to remind myself that ease of use doesn't equal beneficial, and that living "green" is not some trendy item purchased at Target. Its a progression, that I am moving towards.
        I do have one item in my home that has resisted my setbacks in terms of being eco-friendly, and it's my 7 year old MacBook. It works. Yes, its old and a bit slow. Sure, I would love a new shiny MacBook Pro and I have had a few versions in cyber carts just waiting for me to push the "Purchase" button. This has gone on for a year now. I just can't bring myself to acquire a new computer, when this one still works. Its my hold out. It anchors me to the direction that I want my consumer habits to go amidst the craze of hyper-consumption.

Photo: Anna Low. 2012. 

    My mother purchased this computer for me when I was on the cusp of starting one of my "business ideas" many years ago...(She has always had an over abundance of faith in my entrepreneurial spirit). I have used this machine when I was so broke that I had to get a horrific second job serving rich ladies over priced tea, and it serves me just the same now that I am navigating two successful business endeavors of my own. This old and dirty computer will last me as long as I invest in it...kind of like a large planet that I know of. You have probably heard of it, it's the only one capable of sustaining human life.

“Perhaps the time has come to cease calling it the 'environmentalist' view, as though it were a lobbying effort outside the mainstream of human activity, and to start calling it the real-world view.”  E.O. Wilson.