thought for your monday

"Most learning is not the result of instruction. It is rather the result of unhampered participation in a meaningful setting. Most people learn best by being 'with it,' yet school makes them identify their personal, cognitive growth with elaborate planning and manipulation."

— Ivan Illich (Deschooling Society)

Artwork by James Jean.

thought (and poster!) for your monday

"This is your life. Do what you love, and do it often. If you don't like something, change it. If you don't like your job, quit. If you don't have enough time, stop watching TV. If you are looking for the love of your life, stop. They will be waiting for you when you start doing things you love. Stop over analyzing, life is simple. All emotions are beautiful. When you eat, appreciate every last bite. Open your mind, arms, and heart to new things and people, we are united in our differences. Ask the next person you see what their passion is, and share your inspiring dream with them. Travel often. Getting lost will help you find yourself. Some opportunities only come once, seize them. Life is about the people you meet, and the things you create with them, so go out and start creating. Life is short. Live your dream and share your passion."

--The Holstee Manifesto, 2009.

Order the poster here.

A Wayward Journey

Photo via Wayward Journey

The incredible family pictured above is two years into a journey that has taken them all the way from Alaska to South America -- on bikes!

Formerly just regular folks living the conventional American Dream, the Vogel family decided to leave their large house in the suburbs, their jobs, and their school, and set off on an amazing adventure: their quest is to cycle all the way from the Arctic Ocean to Tierra del Fuego. When they complete the trip, the Vogel brothers (who are thirteen now) will break the World Record and become the first children to cycle from Alaska to Argentina.

I am spellbound by the blog that documents the family's travels. I am so in awe of the strength, tenacity, courage and heart of these people! Here's an inspiring excerpt from Nancy Vogel, the mom:

"As I write this now from La Paz, Bolivia we are more than two years into our journey. We've cycled 21,000 kilometers through North, Central, and South America. Our boys are loving their journey and we see the joy in their eyes on a daily basis. They see beauty in their surroundings regardless of where they are - whether in the stark, barren desert of Peru with no trace of any living thing for miles on end or in the Amazon rain forest where the sheer abundance of trees makes getting off the road impossible. They love climbing off their bikes to explore unexpected Mayan ruins hidden off the side of the road or plunge into a waterfall-fed swimming pool. They delight in the magic in riding past bison, big horn sheep, caribou, iguanas, and vicuñas. Every day brings more unexpected surprises and we anxiously await what might be waiting for us around the next bend in the road."

I can't wait to start stoking my own wanderlust by following along online during the last leg of the journey. Inspiring. Way to live life to the fullest!

Two Days in The American Museum of Natural History

We live a fifteen-minute walk away from one of the greatest museums in the world. Sometimes you just have to go two days in a row to soak in the awesomeness. And we still barely scratched the surface. Here are some highlights...

Happy days.

Joyfully exploring, creating, experimenting, imagining,

running, giggling,

seeing, learning, doing.

Being.

Birke Baehr

I love this guy and the empowering message he's sending about taking charge of the food we eat and making the world a better place. What an inspiring person! Thanks for the tip, Riki!

Alphabet Awesome

Several months ago, J mastered the alphabet and recently he has been obsessed with spelling words and writing letters. One of his favorite games (which he invented) is to make up nonsense words and ask me and Taro how to spell them. Somehow this activity evolved into a kind of faux spelling bee, wherein the spellers all get wrapped up asking the "judge" what the definition of the word is, or to please use it in a sentence. This usually ends in sidesplitting laughter as each gibberish word out-performs the last with hilarious meanings and usages. For example, this morning J asked Taro to spell the word, "Torkenslaggo". Then Taro asked for a definition. J replied that the meaning was simply Torkenslaggo. Still formulating his approach to the spelling, Taro asked if someone could use it in a sentence. Before I could even think, I answered, "She was so excited about her new Torkenslaggo that she broke out in a rash!" We then proceeded to fall on top of ourselves with giggles.

Meanwhile, don't you like this Alphabet Lithograph by Eric Carle? And how about these cute $12 Helvetica Alphabet Tees from American Apparel? Rad.

Thought for the Day: The Role of the Unschooling Parent

Photo by Amy Stein, via Coolhunting

I love this list. I recently discovered it on the trove of Unschooling information that is the website Joyfully Rejoicing, and I thought I would share it here:

Show respect for all of a child's interests equally.

Keep the child in mind as I go through life, so that I notice things that might be of interest to that child.

Find ways to include the child in my own daily life - live a more"open-book' life than the norm.

Follow up on things the child is interested in - and do this in a wide variety of ways, not only by "getting him a book on it."

Live a family life that is rich with experiences of a variety of kinds both at home and outside the home.

Have resources around the home that are interesting and stimulating - things that will encourage exploration of ideas.

Discuss things - spend time in conversation. This is probably overall the most important parental"action' involved in unschooling.

Have a playful attitude - play together, have fun, appreciate the amazing world around you. Don't be cynical, be able to be amazed and find the world a fascinating place. THIS is the most important attitude for an unschooling parent.

Be self-aware of your own thinking and behavior. Purposely stretch your imagination - question your own assumptions, check your own automatic impulses.

Be very observant of what your child is really doing - don't view him/her in a shallow superficial way. Recognize that there is a reason for a child's actions, that a child is born to learn and is always learning. Get to know your child's own special favored ways of learning

Wholeheartedly support a child's passions EVEN if, to you, they don't look like "education."

One Day on Earth

I find the concept behind this project to be so incredibly inspiring and beautiful. I want to participate!

If you only had one day to document the world, what story would you tell?

Thanks to Ryan at Pacing the Panic Room for tipping me off to this amazingness!

The Theory of Relativity

This afternoon, after hanging out for a while with some friends on a little patch of grass in the shade adjacent to the Great Lawn, we decided it was time to rove. J had been hearing the strains of a violin coming from around a bend and he wanted to check it out, so I gathered our picnic blanket & snacks and strapped W into the stroller. 99 percent of the time I wear W in a sling or wrap and push J in our Maclaren, but recently I've started letting W try out the wheels when J is in a walking (or, more likely, running) mood. So off we went, towards the music.

We found the violinist, playing under a little bridge, where the acoustics were fantastic. We enjoyed our very own little concert before the man invited us over to inspect his violin. He let J pluck the strings and explained that the bow was made of hair from a horse's tail. J gasped with surprise at that revelation :)

When we strolled out from under the bridge fifteen minutes later, I realized to my excitement that W had fallen asleep in the stroller -- a first! We continued walking for a bit, but it was slow going, as J was stopping at every rock and blade of grass and was also dribbling his beloved ball on the path, which meant frequent backtracking to chase it down when it got loose.

Everything was fine, but it was getting late and I needed to run an errand in the near future, plus I was eager to keep the stroller moving so as to prolong W's nap. I suggested to J that I would be willing to carry him in the sling if he wanted a ride, so we could walk faster. Well, I didn't have to mention it twice! Excited about the now-rare treat of having me wear him, J jumped into my arms, we adjusted the sling, and off we all went at a good clip.

It had been a really long time since I had worn J like this, on a jaunt. At nearly three, he's heavier now, for sure, but there was another striking change that I noticed: the small, babbling toddler that he was when I stopped wearing him early in my pregnancy with W has grown into a very conversational, extremely verbal boy. I already knew this transformation had occurred -- I mean, I am his mother and I am with him every minute of every day -- but it took this shift of perspective from him being in the stroller all the time (where we usually have to shout back and forth to hear each other over the din of traffic) to him being back on my hip, a whisper-breath away, for me to really realize how epically he has changed.

We walked and talked and snuggled and it was wonderful and sweet and sad. As we continued downtown through the park, we soaked up all the lovely details of our surroundings. We paused for a moment to watch people rowing boats on The Lake, and then, as we took off again,

I sighed, "I love Spring"

to which J replied, "me TOO. And it's MAY."

Me: "Well, not quite. It's actually April, but May will be here soon."

J: "Where is May?"

Me: "Oh, May isn't a place. It's a month of the year, so it's a time."

J: "What is time?"

Well, folks, that one stopped me in my proverbial tracks. I got chills. What is time. What is time. How in the world do you begin to explain that? How in the world do you begin to understand it yourself, really?

So I said, "hmmm, I don't exactly know how to answer that."

I felt kind of lame for leaving it like that, but he didn't seem to be bothered. He didn't ask again, and was in fact already pointing out new observations about the scenery we were passing through. Internally, I was grasping, still trying to think of a good answer, but kind of confounded at the same time by the deepness of the question, just for myself. What is time.

But we moved on. There were horse-drawn carriages and rollerbladers and bicyclists coming past us down the hill, and a busy intersection inside the park near 72nd street for me to navigate. Soon we were on an unfamiliar path and I was unsure of which direction to go. I turned around and headed a new way, that I thought would lead us out of the park near our final destination.

Suddenly, I recognized this path. Almost two months ago, in the middle of February, we had been in this section of the park a couple of days after it snowed heavily. J and Taro had spent an hour frolicking in the drifts and galloping around a big cedar tree while I nursed W on a nearby bench. The snow was so deep that I remember I could barely see the bench except for this one, small, dry, patch where we were sitting -- presumably already cleared of the snow and ice by someone else enjoying the same seat a bit earlier in the day.

Now, this location is as green as can be, and although vastly changed, it was very familiar. Excited by my realization, I blurted,

"J, ohmigoodness! This is where we were playing in the snow recently! Do you remember?! Wow, that was so fun, and it looked SO DIFFERENT! Can you believe that snow ever melted?!"

"Oh, yeah!" said J, nodding and remembering.

"Over there," I said, "that was a snowman, and hey, look at the bench now! And you were having a snowball fight over there, and wow, look how green and lush and blossom-y it is now...wait..."

It had hit me:

"That's what time is."

"Ah." He said.

And he got it.

Birth Story of the Week: Martha's Story

Because this week is my birthday week, I thought it would be apropos to invite my mom to tell the story of my birth as Birth Story of the Week! I am so grateful to her for sharing this with my readers. My mother has been THE influence on my life when it comes to all things related to child rearing, but most especially she has made me the passionate birth activist that I am. And even though I have known this story for as long as I can remember, it really moved me so deeply to see it after all these years in written form. My birth was both a trauma and a triumph for my mom, and for all its imperfections and unnecessary interventions, it was the beginning of a journey that led mom to learn more about birth and take more control of the births of my younger siblings. By the time my sister was born (nine years later, at home, with a midwife) I was well on my way to a much better child-bearing future because of what I was learning from my mom. I was present for the birth of my little sister and even as a child I knew that that was the way I wanted to go when having kids of my own.

It is largely because of my mother's experiences and sacrifices that I have had the opportunity and wherewithal to have two wonderful home births. It is also her thirst for knowledge on this topic, as well as her spirit of activism that has inspired me to share so many of my choices on this blog.

So, thanks, mom! Not only for giving birth to me, but for instilling in me the importance of taking control of the processes of pregnancy and birth for myself instead of following along with the status quo of the medical establishment. I love you, and I am forever grateful!

--Leigh

Early morning (approximately 7:00 a.m.), November 26, 1978 I woke up to make my usual morning trek to our very green bathroom, trying as always not to wake myself up. This was not a usual morning. I discovered very quickly that I was spotting and I was wide awake. I knew this would (most likely) be the day I would meet the little person growing inside me. It was exciting now that it was actually happening, although my entire pregnancy I had been just a tad nervous. Unfortunately, my mother’s birth experience with me had been pretty much a nightmare and try as I might it had been difficult to shake some of those fears passed down from her. Our plan most of our pregnancy was to take our time getting to the hospital. I had heard first births, for the most part, tend to be long. Advice from friends and even the instructor of our childbirth class, was to not rush to the hospital at the first sign of labor. Even our doctor encouraged us to take our time. With that advice in mind and because it was so early, I went back to bed, laid down next to my husband and whispered, “Guess who’s coming today.” In his sleep and being the good husband that he was, mumbled, “Who?” I said, “A little baby.” It was hilarious to see this man, who was known for his deep sleeping ability sit bolt upright in bed. He was beside himself and together we were trying to stay calm, cool and collected. We had decided if labor was not intense and it was early, we would try to go back to sleep. My husband stuck to the plan. He slept. My mind was spinning. I was about to be a mother. Would I know what to do with a little baby? After all, I had never been around babies before. Would I be able to nurse? Would there be enough milk? Could I avoid having a section? Would labor be anything like my mother’s description? Then the contractions began. Sleep for me was out of the question and by around 9:30 a.m. we were checking into the hospital (20 minutes away). So much for the “taking our time plan”.

When we got to the hospital my husband went to sign on the dotted line and the nurse assigned to be with me until the baby came took me to what would be my labor room.

My nurse was very nice. She had actually heard of my husband, so I thought that was a good sign. She had me slip into my hospital gown, and then empty my bladder. I don’t really remember the order of things after that. I was prepped and given an enema. Then came the needle person to put the IV in. I remember thinking why did all these things have to be done to me? My grandmother’s birthed 18 babies between the two of them, all at home, and they never had to go through any of the prepping I was experiencing. Once the IV was in and the blood pressure cuff was put on, I was pretty much bound to the bed. When my nurse ruptured the membrane (there was no waiting to see how labor progressed, membrane rupture was just part of the routine), I asked, “Why does my water have to be broken? Won’t that just happen on its own?” My nice nurse said, “It will help labor go faster”. I remember thinking, “well that can’t be a bad thing.” So the water was broken and instantly the labor took on a whole new dimension.

It never occurred to me that I could be walking around, sitting up, squatting (no birthing tubs 31 years ago). I was told I would have to lay down. It’s difficult to hold things together laying flat on your back when you’re trying to do things naturally. My husband and I tried to breathe through the contractions but they were very strong and very fast. Unfortunately, I had not done my homework after getting pregnant. I had been conditioned to believe and trust anything a doctor said and so I did. I followed his protocol, never thinking there could be a better way.

Around 1:00 p.m. (not sure about the time) the need for something to ease the pain became overwhelming. Since I was no fan of needles there was absolutely no way I was going to have an epidural or to have anything put into my spine. I was adamant about that before ever going into labor, thanks to those childbirth classes. I assumed (because I had been told), Demerol was a good alternative and that’s what we went with.

Demerol worked perfectly, between contractions. I slept like a baby. It did nothing while I was actually having the contractions except dull my senses. The pain was still just as intense and I couldn’t move. I laid on my back through my entire labor and wasn’t even hooked up to a fetal monitor (they weren’t being used in the good old days). When it came time to push, I was too doped up to push effectively; my precious baby was reaping the benefits of my decision and I didn’t even realize it. I always felt because of the decisions I made that day, her arrival was probably prolonged.

After pushing for what seemed like forever, the decision was made to use forceps. That of course terrified me (even in my brain fog from demerol) because forceps were used at my birth. My mother contracted a life threatening infection from the use of forceps “Childbirth Fever” and I had a life threatening concussion. Then there was my episiotomy (just another part of the routine), all the way to my rectum. The doctor stopped cutting but I just kept tearing. I assumed that had to be done to get the forceps in. Fortunately my beautiful baby daughter was crowning so the forceps didn’t have to go far. Then it happened. Everyone was so excited in the delivery room, “It’s a girl! It’s a girl!” in my drug-induced state I was excited as I could be and then I saw her. She was purple. I thought she was dying. I didn’t get to hold her. She was whisked away.

In between naps (the drugs) I kept asking if she was O.K. I kept being reassured that she was just fine but it was several hours before I saw my baby.

At the time (31 years ago), I thought that was how birthing should be. I thought that was “normal”. When I saw my baby girl, she was absolutely beautiful. I couldn’t imagine that she came from me. I couldn’t stop looking at her and except for some bruising from the forceps she was absolutely perfect.

My husband was so supportive of me and so thrilled to be the father of this little girl. I owe him a huge debt of gratitude for encouraging me to breast feed. I had never been in the presence of anyone who nursed and I wasn’t at all sure that was the thing to do but he nudged me lovingly so I committed to six weeks and those weeks turned into months. That decision changed my life. That decision bonded me to that precious little life. It gave me confidence and purpose .

I look back 31 years and I get teary thinking how I could have better educated myself and when I get down and low from thinking about it, I’m reminded of the gift I was given and the joy that little girl brought to our family. She made us better. I can’t imagine never having had her in my life. Today I look at the adult that little girl has become and I’m overwhelmed with gratitude, love and pride. She is a beautiful, brilliant, wonderful daughter. She’s making a difference in the lives of many women. Women just like that young mother 31 years ago who just need someone to lead the way. What could be better than that?

--Martha Pennebaker,
11.18.2009

How School Kills Creativity

Sakura Bloom Triathlon: Interview Question 2

How is your personality reflected in your parenting style?

I am an intensely inquisitive person. I love to read, research, and explore. I am in a constant state of Wanting To Gain Knowledge. When it comes to parenting, I have an even stronger sense of inquiry -- I devour books, articles, and blogs on pregnancy, birth, breastfeeding, parenting, and education. I strive to constantly learn more about these topics for the benefit of my children, as well as to understand myself on a deeper level, and (hopefully!) become a better, wiser parent.

This trait also leads me not only to encourage my son's own sense of inquiry, but to relish being by their sides as they explore the world for themselves. I am inspired by watching my boys absorb new ideas and information, and I feel privileged to be able to facilitate that learning process each and every day.

Questioning Mass-Media's Portrayal of Childbirth

I really want to see this film. More info, here.

I did it!

I sewed something! I finished this little pinafore in part two of my sewing class today! I'm so excited and satisfied with the outcome. Even though it was a really simple, basic project I just feel incredibly empowered -- like I really can learn to make clothes!

In related news, my new sewing machine arrived yesterday! I can't wait to unpack it and make something else...

Also, while I'm on the topic of bloglove...

Heather Armstrong (self-described as "the woman who was all EPIDURAL ON THE ROCKS, PLEASE!") has me doing a happy dance this morning with her latest post on Dooce, wherein she describes how reading Ricki Lake and Abby Epstein's Your Best Birth revolutionized her perceptions about natural birth leading up to the recent birth of her daughter, Marlo:

And then, oh God, the worst thing happened. And I didn't even see it coming, but I'm sitting there reading that book, gritting my teeth, shaking my head when all of a sudden it started to make sense. I started to see just how medicalized labor and birth have become in America AND THERE GOES MY WORLD VIEW.

I'm not going to get into the specifics and the really convincing and at times jaw-dropping statistics of it here, there are so many other places and people who can write about it better than I can, but I will say this: if you are pregnant or are planning to become pregnant, GO READ THAT BOOK. From now on when someone asks me what is the one piece of advice I would give to a pregnant woman, it will be: GO BUY A COPY OF THAT BOOK. Listen, I am not affiliated with that book in any way, I do not know Ricki Lake, she and I do not vacation in St. Tropez together (although if she'd like to come ride four-wheelers at my Mom's cabin in Duchesne, Utah, THE OFFER STANDS), I do not owe that publisher any favors. But IT CHANGED MY LIFE. I'm not even kidding, I'll say it again: IT CHANGED MY LIFE.

Considering that only, like, 100 billion people read Dooce, it is really really exciting to see Heather evolving on this issue and speaking out about it so strongly.  I have loved her blog for years, but this really makes it dear to my heart.  I only read a few of the 505 comments on her latest post, but it is so moving and cool to see how many people have already been positively influenced to start educating themselves about their birthing options just from that one post.  And she hasn't even gotten to her actual birth story yet.  Go.

Photo via Dooce.

Truly Distressing: The Phenomenon of "Pit to Distress"

I was truly horrified and upset to learn this week about a practice that is going on in the world of obstetrics that (until recently) has been little-known or talked about outside that world.

"Pit to Distress" is the term that is used in hospitals to describe the action of administering the highest possible dosage of Pitocin to a laboring woman, with the intention of deliberately distressing the fetus, so a C-section can be performed.

I first read about this phenomenon on Monday, via the wonderful blog, Keyboard Revolutionary.  That is when mama, birth activist, and blogger, Jill, broke the news about "Pit to Distress" to the masses.  Other blogs quickly picked up on the topic and it has since gone viral within the birth blogosphere.  

I have been reeling all week as I continued to read shocking insights about this disturbing practice on various blogs, and I wanted to share the information with my readers.  I encourage anyone who is considering a hospital birth, or who is concerned about the health and well-being of women and babies, to follow these eye-opening links:

Unnecesarean's super-informative follow-up to the original post at Keyboard Revolutionary.  Followed by Part 2.

On Nursing Birth, a Labor and Delivery Nurse testifies to the all-too-real phenomenon of "Pit to Distress," and supplies mind-blowing examples of when she has seen it happen in her own personal experience on the job.  Part 1 lays out the shocking facts of her experience, and part 2 supplies helpful information on how to protect yourself from such unnecessary and harmful interventions.

Over at Stand and Deliver, Rixa jumped in and offered a roundup of more insights on this issue.

I hope you take a few minutes to read over the information in these assorted posts.  Let me know what you think!

The Kiddo's First Story (as told to Taro, last night)

"Two stars were walking in the park. Then the moon came. Then the clouds came. Then noodle pastas came. Then Dada came. Then I came. Then Mama came. They were all walking in the park. The end."

Image via Weheartit.

Excellent Series on Preparing for Baby #2

I'm always discovering great resources and wonderful support on the API Speaks blog, and their recent series of posts on preparing for a second child is no exception.  I thought you might find it interesting, so here are the links:

Part 1:  What on Earth Were We Thinking?

Part 2:  To Tandem or Not To Tandem

Part 3:  Making Room for One More in the Bed

Part 4:  Soon They Are Best Friends

Read it and let me know what you think!  Do you have any insights on the addition of a second baby in an attachment parenting household?

"Lights, Camera, Contraction"

Click here to read a terrific piece in the New York Times that examines the growing phenomenon of people posting their birth videos on YouTube.  The article focuses on people who had home births or are planning them, and talked about the ways in which the medium of video on the internet is helping to reframe the way women in general educate themselves about childbirth.  

The story also contains a link to a series nine of YouTube videos posted by Sarah Griffith of Atlanta, showing the home water birth of her son.  The videos have been viewed more than three million times.

I found this story and the accompanying comment thread to be really interesting and encouraging, in that it seems to illustrate a growing interest in seeking out information on what birth is really like, instead of relying on negative assumptions created by hollywood cliches.  

What do you think?

Bronx Zoo

Yesterday we visited the Bronx Zoo for the first time and it was wonderful!  Here are some of our favorite highlights: