This means one thing: I had better come up with some pretty cool things to do. Or else. . . 

So I dusted off the black patent leather shoes that are sadly reserved for holidays, scotch-taped quarters to the bottom of each shoe, and voila!, instant tap shoes. (I’m not brilliant; Rookie Moms came to my rescue.)

I find that most toddlers love music. They love movement. They love newness- anything that deviates from the ordinary. Ahem, anything slightly chaotic. 

Our homemade tap shoes didn’t disappoint. Stomp. Flap. Giggle. Stomp. Pitter-patter. Hoo-ray. Stomp. 

Oh, yes, I stomped too. Who knew that simple driving mocs second as tappers? What started out as a sanity-saving time-filler turned out to be a whole lot of fun! At least 20 minutes of fun, not that I was watching the clock or anything.

P.S. Please stop by to enter a handmade doll giveaway from Blabla kids. You’ll be glad that you did!

**This post is part of the Moms’ 30-Minute Blog Challenge at Steady Mom**

For the past few months, I have been flipping through my stash of old magazines, collecting words, phrases, quotes, and pictures that inspire and make me smile.

Looking back on the process, I learned a lot about myself from what I both chose to include and chose not to  include.

Here are some things I learned about myself: 

• I value creativity and discovery in myself and my family. 

• If you gave me $100, I’d probably spend it on organizational tools for my home, plants for my garden, or All-Clad pots (Umm . . . only $100? Maybe a ladle).

• If I could only do one thing today, I’d have family tickle time. It’s raw fun and laughter at its best.

• While I live in an area that’s fast-paced, I’d rather take the slow road. 

• I’m a work in progress. Someday I’ll be organized (See organizational tools above). 

• If I knew that I couldn’t fail, I would write a book or plant fields of lilacs.

• I daydream about having my own creative sanctuary (aka home office) with sunlight streaming through the windows. 

• I believe that we all have the power to make a positive impact on our world, no matter how great or small. 

• I’m attracted to “B” words like breathe, being, believe, bloom.  

Okay, enough analyzing.

If someone asked you to create a poster that shows who you are and what you want for your life, could you do it? What words, phrases, or quotes would you include? What pictures? 

Photo by Myki Roventine

Christmas is behind us, and I know many of you are breathing a sigh of relief. I am. We’ve built this holiday up to something way beyond its humble beginnings, and I, for one, can’t keep up with the unwritten rules and commercialism. Case in point: Our white lights never made it out of the attic to decorate the bushes. I’m finished berating myself; my toddler saw plenty of white lights.  

I often feel as though I will honor Christmas in my heart when . . .Um, when everything gets done. Have you ever said this to yourself? I’ll be happy when . . . I’ll relax when . . . I’ll have fun when . . . Well, when is never soon enough. It leaves us stranded right now and denies us the beauty of the present moment. And so we spend the month of December tired, impatient, and anxious. 

I felt this way on December 12, when we picked out our Christmas tree. Well, we didn’t pick it out; my husband did. I’m a wimp when it comes to the cold. So, my daughter and I sat in the car (for moral support), with the heat blaring, while Daddy got the job done. And it was just that- a job, a chore. It was something that I needed to check off of the list: Get the tree. 

My thought process was this: Let’s get the tree, so we can get it home, so we can decorate it and enjoy it before it sheds everywhere. (Oh, and we will enjoy it, dammit.) I felt rushed, un-festive, and somewhat of a Grinch. Would this feeling end? Yes, but not until I made the decision to turn up the music and celebrate. 

Christmas was different for me this year. Since I spent Christmas Day in southern California with my family, Santa visited NJ early, and we feasted with my in-laws and exchanged gifts on the 19th. Essentially, I celebrated two Christmases, each one different and special in its own right. One was spent in the midst of a snowstorm. The other, in the land of fake snow.

For me, Christmas has never been about the day; it’s a feeling, one that doesn’t negate to-do lists, but that allows us to find peace and joy no matter what the circumstances. 

Even if you’re not religious, indulge me for a moment. Over two thousand years ago, a baby was born in a barn. A barn. This tiny baby is arguably one of the most influential figures in history. How could an evening so simple, humble, and unsanitary be so extraordinary? Was Mary stressed out because the barn didn’t have white lights? I don’t think so. It was a celebration of life, love, and family, in that very moment. Rumor has it there were three gifts. Forgive me for oversimplifying matters, but I really do believe it was that simple. Do you hear me Bloomingdale’s? 

STOP what you’re doing and consider this: What if Christmas really is a feeling? What if it isn’t a day or an event? What if you woke up in the morning and wished your husband or children a “Merry Christmas,” because the most important things on your Christmas list can’t be bought? They are right there in front of you. Embrace your family. Honor the beauty of a new day. Give hugs and laugh a lot. And keep it simple. That was the intention. 

May you have a happy, healthy 2010 and many Merry Christmases!

Have you ever read something that seems to be speaking directly to you? Like it was written with you in mind? And you have to read it again because you’re in disbelief? This was the feeling I had after reading Maira Kalman’s NY Times blog post, Back to the Land. I’ve read it again and again. It’s absolutely brilliant. 

And moving. Well, moving me to replace the swingset with an edible garden. I don’t know if this was Kalman’s intention, but I think Thomas Jefferson would approve. I’ve been itching to dig my fingers into this well-defined area of our backyard for awhile now. But I keep putting it off. It feels wrong to dismantle the swing and the slide. From my experience, they are the crowned jewels of childhood. 

But then I read this piece. Dammit. 

And in it, I read this quote from Cicero: “If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.” 

How do you explain that to a two-year-old? 

Something is calling me to begin a family garden. How cool would it be to make our own veggie pizza on Friday nights? Maybe there’s a new family ritual in our future. Or maybe I’m being a Pollyanna. I just can’t get Cicero out of my head.

**This post is a part of the Moms’ 30 Minute Blog Challenge at Steady Mom**

Ever since the pumpkins arrived, I’d had my eye on the enormous empty cardboard boxes at our local farm. It pains me to see them piled on pallets, awaiting their fate at the recycling center. So I decided to take one home. It wasn’t hard for me to convince my husband to haul one into the back of our Subaru. I think he was secretly tickled pink that I was so excited to make a fort.  

This fort cost us nothing, but the payoff was huge. We spent quality time together as a family, laughed, played, and got some great photos before mommy got stuck in the door. 

From a parent’s perspective, the only thing that I needed to invest in this fort was my time and my presence. I think this is what our children really want- for us to be there with them, in the small moments. Not physically, but emotionally. To temporarily abandon our lists, obligations, and judgmental thoughts and to get silly and have fun, and be a kid again. 

Sometimes the best things in life are free. Cardboard included.

Photo by Tammra McCauley

When the phone rings, my daughter inevitably holds her hand up to her ear and exclaims, “Me-a!” (She knows that it’s likely to be Aunt Mir from California.) When the remote control is laying on the couch cushion, she grabs it and points to the television. When I’m brushing my teeth, she reaches for her toothbrush. When I dance or jump, she too bends at the knees or gets that hip going.  

She’s learning, and it’s all the result of observation and imitation. Notice how I didn’t say that it’s the result of Baby Einstein or flashcards or Leap Frog’s latest talking, flashing toy. I think we’ve overcomplicated matters. It’s time to get back to basics and to simplify our teaching methods. Our children are watching, so don’t be caught picking your nose. But do consider using everyday objects, routines, and tasks as learning opportunities. 

1. Walking up the Stairs: Since my daughter is just learning how to navigate stairs, we’ve started counting them. Now it’s a routine, and she lights up when I start to count. Nine is her favorite number these days. It often sounds something like this: Me: One, Her: Nine, Me: Two, Her: Nine, and so on.   

2. Washing Hands: While you’re hanging your child over the ledge of the sink, why not sing the ABCs? It’s just the right amount of time to wash away those germs before mealtimes or after playing in dirt. If you have to wash up, you might as well sing!  

3. Diaper Changes: From chatting with other moms, it seems that diaper changes can often be a source of frustration for parents as even the sweetest toddlers transform into wiggle worms with a will (Think skid marks in undies are bad? Now multiply that across your living room floor.). I’ve found that distraction is key. I either sing a song she’s heard before or talk about our day. During this time, I focus on enunciating clearly, as my daughter is generally in tune with the movement of my mouth and lips.  

4. Driving in the Car: Depending on your family situation and schedule, you might spend a significant amount of time in the car. The other day I heard this coming from the back seat: “Lello (yellow), re (red), bo (brown), lello.” It finally came to me that my daughter was naming the fall colors on the trees. She’ll do this with cars as well. Point out the train, trucks, stop signs, supermarket, and other landmarks in your neighborhood. Just stay focused on the road so you don’t have to cover the red and blue flashing lights lesson. 

5. Real World Objects: I’m willing to bet that your children know the difference between the real cell phone and the Fisher-Price one. Same thing with your keys. They want to be like us, and they’re not fools. Get out an extra broom, hairbrush, mixing bowl, washcloth, and let them explore and learn. 

6. Playtime: Human interaction trumps all. Nothing can replace encouraging exploration and imagination by playing with blocks, dolls, or cars. I find that many stay-at-home moms struggle with this, because it’s easy to feel that we should be managing household chores and tasks first and foremost. We could be playing (By playing, I do not mean a rousing game of “scrub the tub.”). And our little copy cats would be, without a doubt, observing and imitating.

I recently heard a mom remark, “I don’t know what I’m going to do with my kids this summer.  They don’t know how to just play.”  Sound familiar? 

I’m making a sweeping generalization here: Today’s suburban kids live by set schedules and organized, adult-regulated activities.  We moms shuttle them off to piano lessons, tutoring, baseball practice, art class.  We think we’re doing what’s best for our kids.  We want them to have opportunities, so we start building our kids’ “resumes” in elementary school. 

Yes, I would agree that kids learn discipline, the value of teamwork, and socially appropriate behavior from playing soccer or saxophone.  But there’s a seriousness and rigidity to all of this structure, and we’re missing something big. . .

PLAY.    

In his outstanding book, Play: How It Shapes the Brain, Opens the Imagintion, and Invigorates the Soul, Stuart Brown, M.D., discusses play as a state of mind.  He defines it as “an absorbing, apparently purposeless activity that provides enjoyment and a suspension of self-consciousness and sense of time.” 

Notice how Brown says that play is “apparently purposeless.”  In his eyes, it is perhaps the most important aspect of brain growth.  Brown believes that “play lies at the core of creativity and innovation.”

But we think that kids who fit the mold, who play “the game” with an exceptional GPA and an impressive resume (that includes a service trip to Africa, of course), will be rewarded in life. 

How many unhappy college graduates do you know? 

In recent years, Brown has presented a seminar on play to Stanford sophomores, who he believes are “suffering from low-grade play deprivation, and are so used to their hectic, pressured, high-performance lives (despite still being kids) that they don’t realize what they have missed in the pursuit of academic excellence and success.” 

I was that kid.  Growing up, I was so tightly wound that I lost sight of play.   For me, good grades got old, and there was a huge price to pay for not cutting loose.  At the end of the day, who cares about academic accolades and big fat promotions if there is no play. 

So, how can we encourage our children to play? 

Brown suggests exposing our children to various opportunities at a young age and taking note of their early desires and inclinations, “the natural choices that your child’s early play demonstrates.”  Then, encourage those early patterns that result from natural desires to build, sing, create, dance, etc.

So, the next time your child plays with the box instead of the $100 award-winning toy inside of it, swallow your pride and give yourself permission to smile.  She is building a world for herself and mastering the most important subject, Life 101.