As a stay-at-home mom, my official job title can range from breast milk dispenser to dust bunny obliterator, depending on the day. While there’s no shortage of tasks to keep me busy, it can be a challenge to balance spending quality time with my child while still feeling productive.

Here are a few suggestions for mamas to work on their infant or toddler’s development while still taking care of the needs of running a household:

Set a routine:  Establish a daily routine, to help keep both your child and you on track. For example, after breakfast or the first feeding, put your baby in a swing and do the dishes and start a load of laundry. Every day. That will help your kiddo to anticipate what’s coming, and it will keep you on track so the kitchen sink doesn’t pile up with dirty dishes.

Vary play with rest:  In order to provide your baby with adequate stimulation and rest throughout the day – and to give you time to get a few things done – alternate time spent together with quiet time apart. After reading, playing or singing, set your kiddo down – in a safe place, like the crib or a play mat – and let him play quietly alone. This will teach him to entertain himself, while letting you answer a few e-mails or fold a load of laundry.

Have a game plan:  Research where your child should be developmentally, so you’re aware of where to focus your time and energy. The U.S. National Library of Medicine has information on gross motor, fine motor, sensory, language and social developments. Plan on tummy time or games of peek-a-boo and track your baby’s growth as he changes, day-by-day.

Be flexible:  Even with a set routine and plan for monitoring growth, you can’t control everything. Sometimes babies just need some extra cuddle time, a longer nap or a few extra rounds to sing “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.” You’ll maintain your own sanity and keep your baby happier if you listen to his cues and take them into account.

Incorporate others:  Motherhood can be isolating. Set up play groups, invite other moms and their children over for lunch or just go to the park and strike up a conversation with someone new. We mamas share struggles, and while we might not have one-size-fits-all solutions, finding camaraderie in the journey can be encouragement enough. Socializing your child and introducing him to new kids and parents will help develop his relational skills, as well.

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With tender fingers, fingers touching life as if for the last time, I cut back the tangle of vines that were only recently so heavy with cucumbers.  Just as gently, I pull tomatoes from the plants that didn’t fare well and lay them to rest in the soft dirt where they will compost, leaving their untapped potential behind to nourish the next generation.   Then I pull the whole plant from the ground, shake the root ball to loosen what is left of the dirt and let it fall back to the ground.  I say goodbye to the spider that has terrified me all summer long, never knowing exactly where it was in the tangle of plants that I slipped my arms into each morning, it’s intricate web flying like a caution flag over my sacred space, empty.

Inside, I’m gathering.  Tiny sunglasses, chipped; almost empty bottles of sunscreen; pool cards; hair ties; water toys.  As I drop these items back  into our well-worn straw bag there’s a release of smells, sweet watermelon juice, pool water, sweat, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Sun Chips, fresh cut grass, my sun kissed boys, and in this moment I swear that happiness has a scent.  I cradle that bag in my arms, like a child, and walk it down to the basement.  Not unlike a jar of my favorite strawberry jam, I hoist the bag on a shelf to be put up until next summer.

 As I begin saucing apples, pulling canned pumpkin from the back of the shelf, I watch my little ones run through the house in Halloween costumes, too excited to wait until the end of the month.  I think about resident spiders, lovely memories of a summer well spent tucked away in a straw bag, plants pulled from the ground or cut off to ‘soft compost’, and I am reminded that these things all serve a purpose.   As for the spider, well I’ve come to decide that resident spiders are there to remind us to be present and mindful of our daily tasks.  I think about lying to rest our plants that have fed and nourished us in more ways than one all summer long, a true testament that nothing is permanent.  Putting up the pool bag, preserving summer’s memories, is another lesson, one in gratitude.

Autumn is here, the days of golden light have arrived, and deep in me I know that all is well.  As I look down I am brought back to the moment.  I see the ingredients set out before me now, there’s a loaf of pumpkin bread to bake, and I know a certain cowboy and a superhero who are eager to help.

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Dear DIL,

I thought of you tonight as my son (your husband) was helping me put away our laundry. I had a realization that the skills I teach my boy today will have a direct impact on your life in the future. Good organization and homekeeping skills are not just for girls. As I write this in 2011, husbands and fathers have greater expectations upon them in terms of household duties than ever before in history. I anticipate that these expectations will only increase as time goes on. My sons will be expected to provide for their families financially and contribute to the upkeep of the home as well. I think this is a good thing. Unfortunately too many young men will not learn the skills they need when they are young, leaving their roommates, girlfriends, wives and children to try (in frustration) to teach them or simply pick up the slack. With this in mind, I promise to do all I can to teach my son at least the following 8 skills:

1. Doing laundry involves ALL of the steps below. Throwing a load into the washing machine does not constitute “doing the laundry.”

• gathering all the items to be washed
• sorting out anything with special care needs
• washing
• drying
• folding
• putting away

2. It’s best to put away toys from one activity before getting out new ones. That holds true whether the toys are Tonka trucks or power tools.

3. It’s important to take care of the things we have. Things we don’t take care of won’t last long and the budget may not allow for replacing things we neglected

4. ”Picking Up” your room doesn’t mean stuffing things into random drawers and closets. It means actually putting each item back where it belongs. Sometimes that means moving it to another room or throwing it in the trash.

5. “Cleaning” is not the same as “Picking Up”. Cleaning involves actual use of some kind of soap and/or elbow grease to remove dirt.

6. Labels on containers aren’t just there to look pretty. They mean someone actually wants you to put the items called out on the label into the container. Placing the bag of sugar right next to the empty container labeled “sugar” does not constitute putting away the groceries.

7. When you go shopping, make a list. If you don’t you are almost guaranteed to forget the most critical item from the list and purchase a few things that weren’t needed.

8. If you have time to clean nothing else in the house, prioritize washing the dishes and the clothes.

Having taught my son these important skills I fully expect he’ll be able to survive on his own for many years. And then when the day comes that he finally settles down into married life, he will be prepared to do any of the tasks necessary for the household. Hopefully someday you’ll be thankful to me for all that I taught him.

Love,

Your Mother-In-Law

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In the meantime, I’ve realized that regardless of which bag I’m carrying, they only work for me when they contain my diaper bag essentials. Too little and we may have to head home early because I forgot to pack the baby’s bottles. Too much and I can’t find what I’m looking for and get frustrated and start getting crabby with the kids (and anyone else who may be nearby.)

There is no perfect formula for what to pack in your bag. I know you’re disappointed to hear that, but it’s the truth. If you Google “what to pack in a diaper bag” you’ll get somewhere shy of 4 million results. Clearly there is some difference of opinion on what goes into your diaper bag.  The key is to figure out what is right for you, your family and your kids.  Personally, I don’t like to carry much. I tried the bag with nail clippers, infant medicine, extra lip balm, change and long list of other extras. But I found that I rarely, if ever, used those things. So I keep it simple.

My Diaper Bag Essentials Checklist

Here’s what is in my bag today for three kids (4, 3, 10 months):

• 2 bottles
• formula dispenser
• wipes
• small water bottle for making bottles
• 3 diapers for baby
• onesie for baby
• 2 pairs of shorts & underpants for the potty-training toddler
• 1 pair underpants for the fully potty-trained preschooler
• extra socks – 1 pair per kid
• snack for baby
• snack for bigger kids
• sunscreen
• my list

That last one, the list, that may be the most important item in the bag. After too many trips out of the house realizing I had forgotten something critical I decided I needed a checklist for myself.

Now you could make your list as fancy or simple as you want. I’m busy and not all that crafty so I went with simple. I wrote out my list of essentials on a simple piece of cardstock, laminated it with some self-laminating pages, cut it out and stuck it in my bag. The lamination keeps it from getting ripped, soaked with milk or otherwise destroyed.

The reality is that most of the time there are extra things in my bag that are not on the list – things specific to the place we are going that day. But as long as I have what’s on the list, I’ll be fine. Everything else is a nice-to-have. I check the list and my bag every time we head out of the house.

Three notes about having a checklist:

1. Your list won’t look like mine. You’ll have different things based on the ages of your kids. But the idea of having a checklist can keep you sane. Let the list do the thinking for you. You don’t have to worry that you’ve forgotten something important in your bag. And if your husband or a friend is packing up the diaper bag for you, they can refer to the list as well.

2. The list will need to be updated as your needs change.

3. The principle of a checklist of essentials can work for ANY bag you carry regularly – your purse, work tote and older kids backpacks can all be helped by a simple list.

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They call out to me impatiently,  ”Mom…c’mon, Mamaaa.  Pleeeease, Mom…c’monnnn.”

Standing in the kitchen, braced against the island, I swallow the last of my morning latte.  Our front door has become the floodgate, breached daily.  Once open, we propel forward, flowing outside, into the day.  The excitement pours off the little ones and spills onto me.  And out we go to mop up the sunshine and fresh summer air.

During the winter months when we spend so much time in the warmth and comfort indoors the bulk of our days’ activities are guided by me.  I set up various art projects, cooking and baking, quiet time for cuddling and stories, playtime.  But during the warm months, spent mostly outside,  I let guidance fall by the wayside.  It’s instinctual, really.  Take children outside and let them be free to do what they want in a safe, supervised environment and watch them.  I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.

I find a slip of shade and lay my quilt on the grass.  The ducklings pitter-patter nearby.  One’s helping a neighbor water her garden.  The other one is digging a hole and filling it with water from the hose in our yard.  A robin zips back and forth overhead, every now and then a worm dangling from its mouth.  Two small butterflies, heaven white, perform a fluttery ballet over another neighbors’ spread of lavender.

From my quilt, I watch.  The ducklings zip around, giggling.  I notice when they sit down, quiet, pausing to take it all in.  I take it in and breathe a deep breath of gratitude when they pair up and play together, kindly.   Outside, they are living, thriving, shining in the moment, and to their own beat.  And while I watch, they show me an unprompted zealousness for the Now, which is really all that matters.

When I’m not under the shady tree watching, or giving a spontaneous hug or cuddle, mediating, or being told one heck of an imaginative story about a 400bcx series something-or-other with an unbelievable turning radius, I am cook and waitress.  I whip up slices of bread with peanut butter and apple slices.  I schlep out bowls of ice cold watermelon, goldfish crackers, cups of water.

Later in the day, after a nap and reprieve from sunshine, we head back outside.  Only this time it is me who is waiting for them at the floodgate.  In my hands I hold a tray of root beer floats.  I will move my quilt to a new spot of shade and we will spill back into the day.

How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.  – Annie Dillard

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The 10-year-old girl and I took off with 4 other amazing women for 3 days on the Colorado River. We spent one night in a “civilized” campground, but even in that was a lesson. I think she found reassurance in the fact that just I could take care of her in the “wild.” We had a great night and woke up happy and ready to begin our adventure. Through loading the boats she learned the value of teamwork, and how a huge pile of stuff can get smaller very quickly with many hands to help.

She also met very strong women who have rowed big water in places like the Grand Canyon. Women who are accustomed to setting up and maintaining camp themselves, and that is exactly what we did!

We both tried new things that we weren’t sure we could do. The Colorado River was flowing at  nearly flood stage, and at one of the highest levels in many years thanks to the abundant snowfall in the mountains over the winter.

While the rapids were small, the lessons were huge. I can’t wait to sleep under the stars again with my favorite girl, and any role models who would like to come along! 

The post Summer Camp appeared first on Denver Mama.

While out enjoing a mid-day walk with my little ones, we came upon a stream.  The last time we were walking here the water was frozen, the landscape still.  On this day, the water was flowing.  Moving slowly as if it were still waking up after a long deep sleep.  In a flash, I saw my life as it was and as it is now.

Becoming a mother reshaped me.  My left side sways more to the right now.  A notch exsists on my left hip that I never had until I placed my babies there.  My shoulders curve forward from holding, nursing, shushing, cooing, protecting.  My feet are wider, planted more firmly on the ground.  I move faster, and, at the same time, I’m steadier than I’ve ever been.

Four springs ago, that notch on my hip began to form.  During the day I carried Theo most of the time.  In the middle of the night, after nursing when he couldn’t fall back asleep, I’d move him to my hip and walk throughout the dark house, moonlight seeping in through the windows, until he’d drift back into his dreams.  Last spring, it was Sullivan carving out the notch that had been whittled away before him.  Unlike Theo who rode a little toward the center, Sullivan perched higher,  leaned more to the left, reshaping me even more.

On me almost always, even though seasons apart, we were doing all the same things:  cooking and cleaning, taking a phone call, wandering a different moonlit house now in the deep night.  My mother would say, “You need to put that baby down.  How are you supposed to do anything holding him all the time?”  Books I’d read about sleep training said to put them down, too.   Experts said to walk away when they cry and keep in mind that it’s really only five minutes or so, even though it feels like an eternity in your soul.  I’m no expert, so I didn’t put my babies down.  I did what felt right.  Now they are well adjusted sleepers and fine cuddlers, my form is reshaped and better because of it, and if I could palpate my heart, I’m sure I’d feel a new notch there too.

These days, that hip doesn’t get put to nearly as much use.  We’re more like a family of ducks now, Mama foraging ahead, the two Little’s pitter-pattering behind.  It’s become more about keeping mama-eyes on them, about accepting and marveling at how they’ve grown to need each other in ways they used to need me.

The frozen waters have thawed and so has my time as a mama who has little babies.  I will take the cues from around me right now to soften the obvious:  the pillowy sweetness of a dogwood bud blossoming, the stillness of a grey branch transforming to brown, delicate green leaves flapping in the breeze like a string of prayer flags, water; flowing downstream, gaining momentum.  Like the stream, we are picking up speed and setting a new pace.

I look back to make sure my little ones aren’t too close to that cold spring stream and I rest my hand over my heart.  Be still, I tell it.

The post Current appeared first on Denver Mama.

Our coats have been washed and put away.  We’ve traded sweatshirts for fleece vests.  We’ve even had a few days in shorts.  I pulled out my flip flops and Birki clogs, finally.  As if each of these acts of spring kindness hadn’t been enough, the seeds arrived last week too:  Bronze D’Amposta and Yellow of Parma onions, Dragon Tongue beans, Mother of Pearl poppies, European Mesclun salad mix, Yellow Wonder wild strawberries to name a few.  We’ve shaken off the blanket of winter to pop outside in the mornings and late afternoons.  We’re reacquainting with the robins, remembering what warm sun on our bare arms feels like.  We are readying the garden beds for planting.

My mom is a gardner.  When I was little, I’d follow her around our coastal Florida yard.  The thick grass wet with morning dew would lick at my bare toes ~ a fine welcome to an already hot, humid day.  Birds flew from tree to tree.  The smell of oranges and gardenias hung in the air, a canopy of sweet, musty mist suspended below a blue sky.  That yard was rich and alive.  Bees and caterpillars ~ bright green lizards, ants, beetles, and spiders.  Curving flower beds, verdant and lush.  Hedges perfectly tailored.  Two grand palms stood tall and regal in the center, ruling over the tapestry of things, swaying gently in the breeze.  I remember the din of that yard so vividly, just like I remember my mom crawling on all fours, moving slowly through her beds, plucking weeds while audibly picking at her thoughts.  I always thought it strange how she’d slowly comb through those well-loved beds, talking to herself amongst the roses.

Now it is me, a woman and a mother, on my hands and knees combing through the beds.  My yard is pint-sized and sits at an altitude much higher than sea level.  The air is not musty and moist.  It is dry, the dirt crusty and crumbling between my fingers.  I am pulling winter’s weeds while simultaneously pulling thoughts from my head that need not have room to grow.  Ironically, it is me now audibly throwing words out, sending them off on the wind’s wings to turn into nothingness, or tucking them deeply into the soil so the thought can grow into something more.   I pause and look up to see Theo, our oldest little one, watching me from a few feet away.  No doubt he’s listening to my every mumbled word and watching my every move.  He quickly gets back to his task.  A few minutes later I hear him mumbling his thoughts to the wind too.

All those years as a skinny, tan, sweaty Florida girl, following my mom around her flower beds taught me lessons that are only now blooming so wildly in my life.  It was she who taught me what it means to kneel down in the grass; how important it is to have something to do that allows you to pluck, till, plant, prune, water, nurture.  Without even realizing it, she taught me that tending is vital to surviving, that everything eventually needs a good weeding through, and that a gardener’s tasks are very similar to those of a wife, mother, friend and lover of life.

Most importantly, I learned that every seed tended ~ mumbled to or not ~ will eventually bloom.

****

Vegetable and flower seeds from Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds

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Every day, in the early afternoon, I scoop Sullivan up and we go upstairs to begin his naptime ritual.  I read him three stories as we sit cuddled together in my Grandma’s rocking chair.  After we’ve finished stories we snuggle close, our hearts rocking together.  I kiss the top of his head and breathe in the scent of him - apricots and honey - and even though he’s growing up so fast he still, in these fading quiet moments, is my baby boy.  It is a beautiful way each day to remember how grateful I am.

I’m learning that in parenthood, as in most things, it’s the silent shared moments that speak volumes and cement the bonds between our hearts.

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