I'm working on revising for epublishing my book 'Magical Motherhood'. It'll be split it into two volumes, the first focusing on pre-conception, pregnancy and birth, and the second on more general parenting tips for the young child.
In the meantime, I thought it would be good to share links with all of you. So here's a fun one to start with:
http://www.calgaryschild.com/family-fun/1460-10-terrific-things-to-do-in-the-snow-with-kids
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
A Rainy Afternoon
Yesterday, I was on after-school and after-kindergarten duty. All I had planned was to provide the boys with much-diluted apple cider drinks and the wholewheat raisin scones I'd baked for them, late morning. After that, I thought I'd read from 'Stories for Six Year-Olds', six being the mid point between the Blue-Eyed Boy who's seven now, and Curly-Locks, who's five.
"Let's make an apple pie," suggests the Blue-Eyed Boy, who loves to bake and cook.
Hmm. Nana's pastry-making skills? Not brilliant.
"How about apple crumble?"
"Fine."
So we set to. He measures out the flour. Spills some on the table by mistake. Looks to see my reaction. When I chuckle, he does too, and looks relieved.
He rubs the butter into the flour, adds a small amount of sugar and then manages to spice it up with a sprinkling of ground cloves and cinnamon.
I prepare and cook the apples; he retrieves an organic lemon from the fridge, picks up the peeler and adds a little to give flavour to the apples. And into the oven it goes. Later, his dad phones to say the dessert was delicious.
But me, I remember one of the first times the Blue-eyed Boy and I baked together. After I'd shown him how to crack an egg and he'd dropped it into the mixture, he turned to me and said, "I love you, Nana."
And Curly-Locks? He enjoyed hearing 'The Old Woman Who Lived in a Vinegar Bottle' and 'The Gingerbread Boy'.
"Let's make an apple pie," suggests the Blue-Eyed Boy, who loves to bake and cook.
Hmm. Nana's pastry-making skills? Not brilliant.
"How about apple crumble?"
"Fine."
So we set to. He measures out the flour. Spills some on the table by mistake. Looks to see my reaction. When I chuckle, he does too, and looks relieved.
He rubs the butter into the flour, adds a small amount of sugar and then manages to spice it up with a sprinkling of ground cloves and cinnamon.
I prepare and cook the apples; he retrieves an organic lemon from the fridge, picks up the peeler and adds a little to give flavour to the apples. And into the oven it goes. Later, his dad phones to say the dessert was delicious.
But me, I remember one of the first times the Blue-eyed Boy and I baked together. After I'd shown him how to crack an egg and he'd dropped it into the mixture, he turned to me and said, "I love you, Nana."
And Curly-Locks? He enjoyed hearing 'The Old Woman Who Lived in a Vinegar Bottle' and 'The Gingerbread Boy'.
Saturday, September 7, 2013
About birthing: two links
Inspiring!
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-500430/Doctors-gave-20oz-baby-dead---I-saved-life-cuddle.html
and
http://www.mothering.com/community/t/1388640/reducing-fear-of-birth-in-u-s-culture-inspiring-ted-talk-by-ina-may-gaskin
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-500430/Doctors-gave-20oz-baby-dead---I-saved-life-cuddle.html
and
http://www.mothering.com/community/t/1388640/reducing-fear-of-birth-in-u-s-culture-inspiring-ted-talk-by-ina-may-gaskin
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Kids drinks
Recently I've seen and read on line quite a bit about drinks for children, and juice in particular. So I've been mulling this over. Here are my thoughts...
Back in South Africa when my kids were small we used to get juice from the dairy: apple, orange and guava. These were kept refrigerated and were made from fresh fruits. They contained sugar for sweetening. As far as the sugar was concerned, not too bad because it was cane sugar rather than beet. Then came the juices made from concentrated and deflavoured apples that had fruit flavouring added, but no sugar.
Choices... choices...
The thing is, children enjoy drinking juice and sugar is not always a bad thing. Moderation is always good! But if you're worried about giving commercial fruit juices and causing a possible sugar rush, here's a simple solution: get your child to make lemonade.
All you need is an old-fashioned simple lemon squeezer, some maple syrup and a lemon or two, depending on how many glasses you want to fill... or half fill. Cut the lemons in half and your small child will probably be able to squeeze them him or herself. Then all you have to do is add syrup, filtered water and stir. Voila!
Back in South Africa when my kids were small we used to get juice from the dairy: apple, orange and guava. These were kept refrigerated and were made from fresh fruits. They contained sugar for sweetening. As far as the sugar was concerned, not too bad because it was cane sugar rather than beet. Then came the juices made from concentrated and deflavoured apples that had fruit flavouring added, but no sugar.
Choices... choices...
The thing is, children enjoy drinking juice and sugar is not always a bad thing. Moderation is always good! But if you're worried about giving commercial fruit juices and causing a possible sugar rush, here's a simple solution: get your child to make lemonade.
All you need is an old-fashioned simple lemon squeezer, some maple syrup and a lemon or two, depending on how many glasses you want to fill... or half fill. Cut the lemons in half and your small child will probably be able to squeeze them him or herself. Then all you have to do is add syrup, filtered water and stir. Voila!
Saturday, June 1, 2013
Jokes
It's amazing how early in life children can laugh and respond to humour. And humour, I believe, can be an important part of parenting. It's helpful for bonding, for lightening a fraught situation and just generally a wonderful aspect of being human. And especially useful when dealing with teenagers.
However, I experienced something the other evening that stayed in my mind, and not in a good way. I decided it would be good to share it with you, dear Readers, as a cautionary tale.
Our local Waldorf school was showing the second half of the Jonathan Stedall documentary 'The Challenge of Rudolf Steiner'. Having already watched the first half on youtube, I decided it would be nicer to see the second on a proper screen. When I arrived at the school I found I had a few minutes to waste. The whole day had been steamy hot, and I'd been dying to try the new, homemade ice-cream store nearby. So off I went.
Families were sitting outside, enjoying the treats. Except for one little boy, who was perhaps seven or eight years old. His dad emerged, having bought him a large sugar cone, loaded with two ginormous scoops of ice-cream. He handed it to his son.
"But I said I just wanted a taste," the little chap moaned.
Then I realized that the father had done this as a joke. That might have been okay for an adult, but his kid was truly upset, and close to tears.
"I hate it," he wailed.
So, as I said, a cautionary tale. 'Tricks' that might be fun for the grown-ups aren't necessarily so for little ones.
p.s. If you happen to watch the film, make sure you click on the 10 minute postscript, which closes the documentary in a most wonderful and inspiring way.
However, I experienced something the other evening that stayed in my mind, and not in a good way. I decided it would be good to share it with you, dear Readers, as a cautionary tale.
Our local Waldorf school was showing the second half of the Jonathan Stedall documentary 'The Challenge of Rudolf Steiner'. Having already watched the first half on youtube, I decided it would be nicer to see the second on a proper screen. When I arrived at the school I found I had a few minutes to waste. The whole day had been steamy hot, and I'd been dying to try the new, homemade ice-cream store nearby. So off I went.
Families were sitting outside, enjoying the treats. Except for one little boy, who was perhaps seven or eight years old. His dad emerged, having bought him a large sugar cone, loaded with two ginormous scoops of ice-cream. He handed it to his son.
"But I said I just wanted a taste," the little chap moaned.
Then I realized that the father had done this as a joke. That might have been okay for an adult, but his kid was truly upset, and close to tears.
"I hate it," he wailed.
So, as I said, a cautionary tale. 'Tricks' that might be fun for the grown-ups aren't necessarily so for little ones.
p.s. If you happen to watch the film, make sure you click on the 10 minute postscript, which closes the documentary in a most wonderful and inspiring way.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
How mothers empower
It's Mothers Day, and so I've been sending love and gratitude to my own dear mother, and thinking about all she did for me. Perhaps the greatest and most valuable gift was that she empowered me to become the person I'm meant to be. (Okay, okay, I'm still working on it!) My question to myself this morning was: How did she do that?
First of all, there was never a hint of an attitude that seems to have been around in North America. I mean, the 'who do you think you are?' kind of thing.
My mother gave me options and opportunities. This doesn't mean she enrolled me in as many activities as could be crammed into my week. No. Rather, she paid attention to my inclinations on an intuitive level. So, even tho she had to go to work in order to pay for them, she gave me dance lessons - ballet and Spanish. Piano lessons, even though I was a bit of a dunce there. A private education in a religious environment (i.e., a girls' school run by Anglican sisters, but with a staff also of lay teachers) because of my love of learning. And of course, plenty of books to read.
But truly, she didn't force anything that didn't 'fit'. Working from a place of trust (a great empowerment of its own) she allowed my brother and me to find and follow our paths in life, and respected our choices.
She provided an aesthetic environment in our home and a garden filled with trees and flowers where I could play, dream and dance to my heart's content.
Recently, at a visit to a book club where I was invited to talk about and discuss my novel 'Cape Town', one of the women asked me an interesting question. This was: did you have a sheltered childhood? The first answer that sprang to mind was 'no', simply because I was allowed quite a large measure of independence. But the world was a very different place in those days, and my answer could well have been 'yes'. For example, news of wars and/or natural disasters, the latest horror story, wasn't disseminated quickly and widely as it is today. So in that way I was sheltered. And I'm grateful for it.
Lastly, once I expressed a definite direction I wanted to go in, I benefitted from a large amount of level-headed encouragement.
Thanks, Ma.
First of all, there was never a hint of an attitude that seems to have been around in North America. I mean, the 'who do you think you are?' kind of thing.
My mother gave me options and opportunities. This doesn't mean she enrolled me in as many activities as could be crammed into my week. No. Rather, she paid attention to my inclinations on an intuitive level. So, even tho she had to go to work in order to pay for them, she gave me dance lessons - ballet and Spanish. Piano lessons, even though I was a bit of a dunce there. A private education in a religious environment (i.e., a girls' school run by Anglican sisters, but with a staff also of lay teachers) because of my love of learning. And of course, plenty of books to read.
But truly, she didn't force anything that didn't 'fit'. Working from a place of trust (a great empowerment of its own) she allowed my brother and me to find and follow our paths in life, and respected our choices.
She provided an aesthetic environment in our home and a garden filled with trees and flowers where I could play, dream and dance to my heart's content.
Recently, at a visit to a book club where I was invited to talk about and discuss my novel 'Cape Town', one of the women asked me an interesting question. This was: did you have a sheltered childhood? The first answer that sprang to mind was 'no', simply because I was allowed quite a large measure of independence. But the world was a very different place in those days, and my answer could well have been 'yes'. For example, news of wars and/or natural disasters, the latest horror story, wasn't disseminated quickly and widely as it is today. So in that way I was sheltered. And I'm grateful for it.
Lastly, once I expressed a definite direction I wanted to go in, I benefitted from a large amount of level-headed encouragement.
Thanks, Ma.
Friday, January 4, 2013
Winter ills
Both the Blue-eyed Boy and Curly-Locks have been under the weather with winter colds. They came to be with me over the past couple of days and I was happy to take care of them. By last night, Curly-Locks was fine. And the Blue-eyed Boy? Not so much.
Now, I tried to persuade them to wear something more than a long-sleeved teeshirt, worn loose over their pants. The Blue-eyed boy kept his sweater on for a while, then shed it and refused to put it on again. I managed to get Curly-Locks to keep his. This happened after they'd been playing tea parties and the Blue-eyed Boy had poured the remainer of the herb tea over his brother!! So a change of clothes was called for and the sweater was on.
Certainly, we all need to be more warmly dressed than usual when we have a cold. So why do these boys refuse to wear another layer? I was totally puzzled until a recent discussion with a woman who teaches eurythmy. She said that children today aren't used to being covered. An 'aha!' moment for me.
The take-away from this small anecdote is that we need to be sure our children are used to being covered. If nothing else works, maybe a short-sleeved tee over the long one would be better than nothing, and maybe help towards the child becoming more accustomed. Warmth is so very important for the good incarnation of the ego, a process that will only come to fruition once the individuality reaches the age of twenty-one, although there are significant moments at ages three, nine and twelve as well.
Now, I tried to persuade them to wear something more than a long-sleeved teeshirt, worn loose over their pants. The Blue-eyed boy kept his sweater on for a while, then shed it and refused to put it on again. I managed to get Curly-Locks to keep his. This happened after they'd been playing tea parties and the Blue-eyed Boy had poured the remainer of the herb tea over his brother!! So a change of clothes was called for and the sweater was on.
Certainly, we all need to be more warmly dressed than usual when we have a cold. So why do these boys refuse to wear another layer? I was totally puzzled until a recent discussion with a woman who teaches eurythmy. She said that children today aren't used to being covered. An 'aha!' moment for me.
The take-away from this small anecdote is that we need to be sure our children are used to being covered. If nothing else works, maybe a short-sleeved tee over the long one would be better than nothing, and maybe help towards the child becoming more accustomed. Warmth is so very important for the good incarnation of the ego, a process that will only come to fruition once the individuality reaches the age of twenty-one, although there are significant moments at ages three, nine and twelve as well.
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