Tuesday, June 20, 2017

The perspective of a cosleeping kid

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We visited my parents this month and stayed in my old bedroom, complete with its sheep wallpaper that my mom and I had hung and the dollhouse I had received as a Christmas present.

Karsten and Sam enjoyed an air mattress in my younger brother's old room. Mikko, Alrik, and I squished together on my old queen bed, handed down from my older brother before me, after both refused to endure an entire night on the floor mattress that had been set up. Too many spiders in my parents' house, so I don't blame them.

Alrik was fascinated with the historical sleeping arrangements.

"This was your room when you were a kid?" he asked. "Who did you sleep with?"

No one, just myself, I responded.

He was agog. "You slept by yourself when you were a kid?"


He digested this for a bit. "Wow, you were brave."

Sunday, June 18, 2017

To Sam, on Father's Day

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It seems obvious to me that
all fathers should be as wonderful
as my kids' father.

Thank you for parenting and loving our kids, Sam.

We are so very blessed.

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

The easy way to organize laundry in a small space

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When we moved into our 996-square-foot home, I was elated to finally, finally have my own washer and dryer — but I faced a dilemma: Where do the laundry baskets go?

Our appliances are stacked into a closet that's just barely big enough for them and for socks to fall down the crack between them and the wall. The hallway the closet's in is narrow enough that with the bifold door open, there's barely room to scootch by. There's room on top of the closed washer to fold some clothes but not to fit a basket. Our two bedrooms are petite for a family of five, containing just the requisite furniture without a lot of spare floor space and with minimal closets. Our bathroom is laughably teensy, with room for just a toilet and tub and no extra floor space whatsoever. Yes, even the sink is elsewhere.

Long story short, we got rid of our laundry baskets and our hamper once we realized they fit nowhere and were just being tripped over.

But what to do instead?

Thursday, May 25, 2017

Now we are six: In the Age of Childhood

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But now I am six,
I'm as clever as clever.
So I think I'll be six
now and forever.

— A.A. Milne

My little Alrik turned 6. I wrote when Mikko turned this age that 6 always feels firmly in Childhood Age to me, part of an iconic and golden period.

And here we are, with number two moving into it.

Alrik is such a sprite of a child. He was the baby who was born peacefully and precipitously at home, in our first unassisted homebirth, and he was smaller enough than Mikko that my first thought on his emerging was, Oh, no, where's the rest of him? I guess I worried maybe his legs had broken off inside.

But, no, he was just somewhat petite, and he grew more elfin by the day, our skinny, wiry little boy with round Disney eyes and energy for days. Always dancing, always running, always talking.

"Can I say something?" is his catchphrase. And then he does.

He introduces me to his imaginary friends and asks me to join him in Minecraft World, which is a realm he made up that adapts to any sort of creative play. Sometimes he's fighting zombies. Sometimes he's a samurai. Sometimes he's a human who turns into a cat when he brushes against you. He tells me what to do to participate adequately.

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Mother guilt: The uneasiness of time away from the kids

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The day I am writing this, I am at Seattle Center, the campus where the iconic Space Needle stands, enjoying the filtered shade on a bench on a 75-degree May afternoon. Pink blossoms from the spring-sprung trees are dropping softly down on my arms and shoulders. I've spent two hours working on my latest novel, and an hour wandering the well-groomed grounds, admiring the works of art strewn generously throughout and smiling at the sight of so many other people enjoying the beautiful, illusory weather while it lasts.

I am alone, kidless for this brief period of hours. I am free and thrilled and rested and content.

And also miserably guilt-ridden.

Do fathers feel this way, or is it a culturally or biologically instilled mandate that mothers experience guilt at enjoying time away from their children?

Last night I was breaking down in tears from stress. Alrik had a wonderful opportunity (with scholarship!) to attend a homeschool drama class downtown for the spring. It's an incredible program, and we couldn't pass it up for our creatively minded kid when the doors opened for us.

But I worried how we would all cope with getting three kids and me up very early and out the door, onto two to three buses for the ride downtown, and then whiling away the time Alrik was in his class before picking him up and doing the bus dance on back.

I've had nightmares about those bus rides. It's currently cheaper enough for us to ride the bus (only Mikko and I pay at the moment) to beat parking. Plus, we can stay longer and go on other adventures after if we desire, and we often do. And it makes sense to bring Karsten and Mikko with me so Sam can work and we can play. We have memberships at the children's museum and science center, and there's a fun playground, and soon the fountain will be spraying, and the three of us have a grand time while Alrik's having his own fun in class.

Thursday, May 11, 2017

Caps for Sale for the second kiddo

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Blast from the past! Caps for Sale, by Esphyr Slobodkina, has been a favorite of both our older kids so far. I suspect our third will have a go at it soon enough as well!

Here's Alrik reading along with Sam at age 4: