Pinterest-ing -or Not

To be clear, I enjoy Pinterest. I've found a lot of great ideas. Who hasn't? Of course, I've also wasted a whole lot of time on Pinterest but, again, who hasn't? “If I just scroll down a little further, I know I'll find the world's greatest pin...” Because on Pinterest and in the Blog-o-sphere there's always a better way to do...well, everything. From budgeting, to organizing your pantry, to playing with your baby -somebody has thought of a “better” way to do it. And not only are these ideas at the tip of our fingertips, they are in our email, our FB news feed, right smack-dab in our faces.

The other day I decided to expand Peter's sensory horizons via a Pinterest-inspired activity. I filled a tote with cornmeal, some cups and spoons. Peter had fun banging the metal cups, but when it came to the cornmeal, his sole objective seemed to be dumping the tote (he has discovered dumping). So it became a fight --with me trying to get Peter to play in the cornmeal “the right way” and Peter trying to dump the tote. (Oh yeah, and that “put the tote on a beach towel” idea? Why bother? If you try this type of activity, cornmeal will find its way into the deepest recesses of your kitchen. So just plan on it.)

There was nothing wrong with the cornmeal activity. Peter may have been a bit young for it, but maybe I did expand his horizons a bit. It was just that as I wrestled with the tote while simultaneously trying to keep Ollie from devouring all the cornmeal (have I mentioned he's nuts?) and Peter was screaming at me, I couldn't help remembering the previous day's activity of watching Baby Einstein -Baby on the Go and singing along to “The Wheels on the Bus” together. That was easy. That was fun. That felt entirely natural. The problem was, that in my mind, The Baby Einstein watching thing was just the sort of activity that a lazy parent would do -something a not-at-all-creative mom would do to play with her child. While the cornmeal thing was right down awesome-mom-alley. And I realized that was a big part of why I was doing it.

So I'm here today to tell myself that it's okay. Everything I may or may not see on Pinterest is simply someone's suggestion; It is not the best way -it is not even the better way. It's okay to spend more than $200 a month to feed a family of two. It's okay if my pantry is a mess. It's okay to be a “boring” parent. Simply put, it's okay to do things in the way that comes naturally --especially with parenting. And who knows? Maybe it's even the best way.

Exploring Happiness

Reading The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin, I've been inspired to start my own. I'm not going to call it a project though. To me, the word project connotes a daunting, maybe-I'll-do-it-someday kind of task. A project is also something cut-and-dry, something you can check off a do-to list, something you can dissect, quantify, and ultimately understand. I think happiness is bigger than that. Happiness is, at least in part, a matter of the spirit, and therefore contains an element of the metaphysical, the mysterious, the divine. (I'm suddenly picturing the end of How The Grinch Stole Christmas with all the Whos singing and holding hands.) So, rather than accomplishing a project, I'll simply be exploring happiness. I want to really think, experiment, and write. And hopefully, I'll make a few discoveries along the way.

I've come up with 10 areas that I think are relevant to my current happiness: spirituality, relationships, developing a mothering heart, contentment, kindness, humor, remembering the good, replacing unhappy thoughts, and exploring interests. I'll focus on one each month (I meant to post this on the first of the month). Maybe I should have included an “overcoming procrastination” goal. :) There is also a conspicuous lack of a health-related goal, although I believe strongly in its importance. Maybe it just seemed like too much of a given to be interesting. But it may find its way to the list eventually (note: all things subject to change). And for the last area, exploring interests, I'll actually be tackling one interest per month (e.g. cooking for August, poetry recitation for September, etc.), culminating in the final month.

I also want to periodically post about sources of happiness and obstacles to happiness. Like I was getting at above, I think happiness is big and complex and can't be boiled down to a simple list of “good” and “bad.” But I want to explore (there's that word again) these experiences (e.g. What is it about shopping that makes me happy? Why is having a dog worth cleaning up the cat-poo-throw-up mess? Why do I often leave social events feeling sad? Etc.)

And finally, unlike Rubin, while I don't feel the need to justify the value of this endeavor (I think that “man is that he might have joy” and think most people would agree), I do feel the need to spend a moment on sadness. My goal here is not to eliminate sadness to attain a forced, inauthentic, but constant, level of “happiness.” After all, there is “a season to weep” as well as to laugh. And these not-so-happy feelings represent a valid piece of my emotional make-up. (I love when Gandalf tells the hobbits at the end of Return of the King, “Not all tears are an evil.”) I'm hoping to make some distinctions between the sorrows that are natural and, yes, good, and the unpleasant emotions I trap myself in simply out of habit or because that type of downward spiral has become the path of least resistance. I feel convinced -or at least hopeful- that I can retrain some of those patterns. That I can find ways -from the simple to the profound- to be happier now. And isn't that what everyone wants? So let's start exploring.The good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, the real. Ready, set,...go!

The Stuff of Parenthood: On Baby-proofing and Beyond -or Not

So we finally put up the stair gate. It took Dave a couple hours of chopping (with a hand saw) and some creative reconstructive surgery (not to mention purchasing a dremel) but it's up.





And now downstairs is pretty safe --as long as we keep the bathroom and pantry doors shut (storing Ollie's food in the pantry was our solution to that particular dog/baby dilemma) and so long as Peter doesn't figure out how to open the kitchen cabinets... Okay. So we've barely begun.

This morning I decided to let Peter play upstairs with me while I blow-dryed my hair (instead of letting it dry into the wild formations that it normally does). Peter was interested in two things: Ollie's kennel and the bathtub. The kennel wasn't such a big deal -although we will someday have to teach Peter that it is not in fact his own personal cave- but the tub was.


You see that little step that Peter would delightedly stand on, and then, not knowing how to climb off, would try to sit back on? You see my attempt to cushion the tile? You see my further attempt to block off the area entirely using our loveseat? (Who has a loveseat in their bedroom? I know.) Well, it worked. Except that then Peter discovered my nightstand and in the whole of two seconds (while I was trying to coax a terrified Ollie out from behind the loveseat - see my post on One Good Way to Traumatize Your Dog) he had managed to slice his fingers on it (you know that thing babies do where they put one hand inside the drawer and then slam it shut with the other?) yeah...


So, it starts feeling like a losing battle. But then, maybe that actually describes a lot of what goes down in parenting. And maybe all parents experience that ever-present voice in the back back of their minds saying, "your baby will self-destruct in five, four, three, two..." Then again, it could just be me.

One Good Way to Traumatize Your Dog. Oops.

We have officially given Ollie a phobic disorder. How did we do it? Starvation? Abandonment? Neglect? No. We did it goofing around with my exercise ball.





Looks innocent enough, right? But now imagine being Ollie's size (< 20 lbs) with this thing chasing you down the stairs at full speed. He must have felt like Indiana Jones in that famous rolling-ball scene. Now just the sight of this thing sends him into paroxysms of fear. I pulled it out to distract Peter while blow-drying my hair this morning (see my post Baby-proofing and Beyond -or Not) and Ollie ran for his life. I found him cowering in the tiny space between the toilet and the wall, trembling visibly. And I wouldn't describe Ollie as a particularly fearful dog. Heck, he used to jump up and try to bite "red ball" (which really was a funny sight - Ollie trying to open his mouth wide enough to get a grip on the thing) back in the day when we used it all the time (no, not for exercise, not for tormenting puppies, but for endlessly bouncing a colicky Peter -much to the detriment of our backs). So we've really done a number on Ollie this time. The only upside is that he won't go near the guest room when we store the exercise ball in there. And the only question remaining is how many long years of psychological therapy will it take to undo the damage? That, and, if this experience is any sort of indicator, who now thinks we are mature enough to be parents? Anyone? Anyone?...