Yo ho, me hearties! It be that felicitous season known as International Talk Like a Pirate Day, and our crew will sure be lifting a cup o' grog in celebration.
We've put up a video with piratey Mad Libs, including a treasure chest of villainous vocabulary and a wee lesson on the parts o' speech for the cabin boys & girls. It's worth its weight in doubloons.
Ahoy, it's there:
Teach yerself and yer maties to talk like a true swashbuckling buccaneer today!
I thought I'd give some glimpses into our homeschooling / unschooling,
natural-learning process. Here are just a few of our fun cultural explorations with friends.
Shannon at Pineapples & Artichokes organizes and hosts these
fantastic monthly celebrations focusing on different cultures.
I cohosted the last one for a German Fasching party.
Alrik wore my brother's old Lederhosen,
bought when we lived in Berlin when I was a kid.
So süß!
We had a parade complete with bubbles, masks, and costumes.
Sam helped with the potluck by making us some Currywurst
and his famous soft pretzels (a huge hit!).
Potato-y yumminess and a nonalcoholic Glühwein completed the spread.
I read the German version of We're Going on a Bear Hunt
so we could do all the fun German sounds.
(Photo by Shannon)
Masks & art
Another month was Hawaii.
The potluck included pineapple skewers and coconut,
but Mikko homed in on the Pirate's Booty.
This post is especially for Momma Jorje, because every year I post about our St. Nicholas Day celebrations after the fact, and every year she suggests it would be better if I reminded everyone beforehand so they could join in!
So: Let this be your reminder! Put your boots out tonight and Saint Nicholas might just stop by to tuck some shiny little goodies inside!
(Unless you've been naughty, of course. Then all bets are off.)
Since we speak some German at home, we like to learn about the culture as well. That's why we celebrate Nikolaustag, or St. Nicholas Day, each year.
Because the feast day of Saint Nicholas is December 6, empty boots (Nikolausstiefel) generally go outside the door the night of December 5, the eve of Nikolaustag (Nikolausabend).
I am bringing you FIVE Gift Guide reviews over a span of several days — so read about these products I love, and then come back to enter the giveaways on November 6. I solicited the prizes I'm reviewing specifically because I knew my family already loved them or because they were right up my kids' alley. I'm so pleased to present them to you over the next five days!
And I'm not the only one who got to review amazing, eco-conscious, mindful, and natural products: A whole crew of our NPN volunteers did, too! If you need to complete your holiday shopping, find a birthday present for a friend, or just treat yourself to something special, the NPN Holiday Gift Guide has something for everyone. But what's even better, the NPN Holiday Gift Guide is a great opportunity to shop consciously and to support many naturally minded small businesses.
The 55 companies that have provided items for review and giveaway are almost exclusively made up of work-at-home shops or companies that are dedicated to supporting eco-conscious choices. I'm featuring one of those companies in my review below. When you get done reading my review, please click on over to the full Second Annual Natural Parents Network Holiday Gift Guide, where you'll find information on 58 products. In total, we're giving away goodies worth more than $2,500!
Even if you don't win one of our fabulous prize packages, please consider spending part of your gift-giving budget at one of these small businesses. By supporting small businesses, you are helping families, boosting local economies, and supporting ethical practices of manufacturing, production and selling. Take advantage of coupon codes provided by many of the companies. You'll be able to find them at the full Gift Guide when it publishes November 6.
Little Pim offers an Entertainment Immersion Method to make learning a foreign language fun for kids 0-6. Little Pim the panda guides kids through immersion DVDs in one of 11 languages, giving children useful vocabulary and simple, grammatically correct sentences for everyday living, on topics such as Eating and Drinking; Playtime; In My Home; Happy, Sad, and Silly; and more.
I somehow got blessed with two kids on opposite ends of the growth spectrum: Mikko through toddlerhood was a happy 150th percentile kind of guy, and I just let him keep on growing. He was barely eating any solid food before he was two, so I knew it would all even out, and it did. He'll always be a tall and hefty kid (around the 80th percentile now for both height and weight), but that's his body type.
See how sickly he is? Sad.
Then Alrik came along, and he's wee. His height is puzzling though not particularly worrisome: 33rd percentile. His dad and I are tall, so it's strange to have a shrimp. But his weight is off the charts, the other way. At 2 years and 4 months, his 23 pounds doesn't even register.
This is not only weird — it is a trifle concerning. He comes from a family of generally larger-than-average people with a few skinny minnies. So he could just be one of those recessives, right? But his naturopathic pediatrician is cautiously concerned, because here's how nutritional deficiencies can manifest:
First goes the weight, then the height, then the development.
In other words, the weight's already gone. He's already demonstrating that he's atypically short (genetically speaking). So is his developmental progress next?
"If a man loses pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer.
Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured, or far away." — Thoreau
Last year I took Mikko and Alrik to a German enrichment program. The big kids played board games and did sports activities while the babies and mamas did clapping games and bebopped to German tunes.
I was hesitant about signing us up, and did a lot beforehand of that weird, shelter-y stuff some people hate about parents to elicit promises that Mikko could either stay with the baby and me, or the baby and I could stay with Mikko in his class, at least until he got situated.
Because Mikko is not big on separation. That's putting it hilariously mildly.
Plus, since Mikko never wants to play pretend with me, I get the fun of trying out new games, like Moira's doll and stuffed animal hospital. Yes, there was an epidemic. Good thing we had Davis the nurse to help.
P.S. Happy St. Patrick's Day. Mikko wants to celebrate by getting a piñata. Of course.
I still haven't figured out how I'm going to keep up my blog reading once Google Reader is kaput. But, for now, I still have links! Enjoy while you can.
Actual nonsenical dietary advice to women who dare to be fat while pregnant.
And even when women comply with these ridiculous restrictions, their care providers often don’t believe them. In the care providers’ eyes, if you are “obese,” then OBVIOUSLY you are overeating, mainlining ice cream and bread, and consume a TON of sugar. And if you don’t admit to it, well, then obviously you are lying.
From getting Dad more involved to dressing them in matching outfits: Yes!
Also this:
Another change was how big our older child seemed all of a sudden. It was like he was a baby that morning, and a totally competent walker-talker that afternoon. I felt like the new baby gave me a much greater appreciation for the older child’s skills—-things I hadn’t noticed so much before, like how nice it was that he could tell me what was wrong, or point to what he wanted, or be set down anywhere without slumping over like a cute little slug.
And the flip of this was also true: I found I could appreciate my second child’s babyness so much more, because I could see it in contrast to the older child. Instead of feeling like his babyness was practically all used up at 6 weeks (as I did with my firstborn, although to be fair that was in the middle of a hormonal cry fest), I felt like he seemed small and cute endlessly. And I could appreciate the simplicity of his needs: he needed food, or warmth, or a new diaper, or snuggles—-he didn’t need a twentieth “Why?” answer, or to have it explained why he couldn’t have my coffee, or to have me to decide how much television he could watch.
Sad topic that I know is pertinent to some unschoolers in my circle. It can also apply to divorce and contains good advice for all of us to prepare for our children’s welfare in advance.
This past week we again celebrated Nikolaustag (St. Nicholas' Day). The boys and I have been going to a German enrichment program, so of course we sang some Nikolaus songs there. Yes, neither kid has boots right now, so we went with shoes.
Only a 1-year-old would be thrilled to receive toothbrushes,
an orange, and string cheese. I love this age!
While Grandma was visiting, we bought our Christmas tree. I love its shape.
And it was the cheapest tree in the lot!
Welcome to the Sunday Surf, a tour of the best blogposts I've read throughout the week.
My sweet boys
See that badge sticker Mikko's wearing? We were eating out when he saw a traffic enforcer from the Seattle Police Department eating at another table.
"Is that a real policeman?" he whispered to me.
"Yes," I whispered back.
He stared at him through our whole meal. As the man was cleaning up his place, I said to him, "My son thinks you're cool, by the way."
That stopped him in his tracks. "I don't get that very often!"
Mikko followed him across the room as he left the restaurant and went to his traffic buggy (Seattle uses little three-wheeled vehicles), and so we stood at the window gazing out into the parking lot while the parking enforcement officer rummaged in the back storage compartment and I answered questions about the vehicle. Mikko thought it looked really cool and wanted to drive one someday; I have to admit, it looked the perfect size for him.
Next thing we knew, the parking officer came back in with badge stickers reading Junior Police — one for Mikko and one for Alrik. You could tell from the way he had to dig for them that he doesn't often get admirers to hand them out to!
I was glad we made a traffic cop's day, and I was glad Mikko is learning such respect for the police force and the varied jobs people do. (Now, talk to me when I get a parking ticket…)
I have so many links saved up. I'd better let you get reading:
My first couple years of gardening, I couldn’t figure out why anyone ever talked about having too much to harvest. Now that my garden is finding its stride, I’m realizing: There’s no way our families can eat all this produce!
Shannon of Pineapples & Artichokes found me this list of resources to help find a place to donate extra garden harvests. I used AmpleHarvest.org (just input a ZIP code) to discover that the food bank nearest me accepts donations of produce. I wrote the director and discovered I can bring over my tons o’ garlic and greens next Wednesday morning.
These posts you’ve written on pushiness have come at just the right time for me! I was just moaning to my husband about whether I should just give up entirely on non-native bilingualism in German, since my older son (5 years old) wants nothing to do with it. Despite my conversing with him in German since birth and two years in an immersion school (he stopped about a year ago), he claims to understand zero German, and what’s so frustrating to me is that I fear it’s true! He doesn’t seem to understand anything I say to him in German, and it’s bumming me out. I’m not as consistent a German speaker to him and his brother as you are with French, so I’d started wondering if it’s hopeless.
But…encouragement. I like the idea of “persisting,” as your commenter put it, and your tale of a breakthrough once you’d persisted enough! Also, I have some hopes still for his little brother…
Because: yeah, it would be nice if the kids were fully dressed whenever was convenient for, you know, other adults, and if I was on that 100%. But it would be even better if other grownups understood that caring for babies and small children is demanding on every plane – spiritual, mental, emotional, and physical – and the primary carer needs as much help as he or she can get. Have a little grace, people.
Aside from a few quick glances, I had never seen a woman nurse a baby until I did it myself. And that’s a problem. Breastfeeding is a skill that must be learned by mother and baby. If we are never exposed to it, it is harder to learn. And seeing nursing isn’t just important for nursing mothers – when everyone sees breastfeeding, breastfeeding becomes the cultural norm – the way babies are supposed to be fed. When we see nursing mothers on TV, in movies, on billboards, in magazines – and more importantly in the places we regularly go – it sends the message that breastfeeding is normal, not weird, and not something that needs to be covered up and hidden. When children grow up seeing women breastfed, it becomes natural for them to decide to breastfed their own children or to support their partner in doing so.
I like it when businesses are quietly and openly welcome to breastfeeding parents. Wouldn’t it be fun to see an international breastfeeding symbol decal in every shop window?
Nothing is free at hospitals. Nothing. They charge you for drinking water, diapers, gowns, and maxi pads. The only thing that’s free to a birthing woman at a hospital is formula, which many women don’t even want. And it’s not free because the hospital is concerned about the well-being of hungry babies. It’s free because formula companies pay for it — out of their marketing budget — and give it to hospitals. Because they know that babies who have formula during the first few days are much, much more likely to become long-term customers. How is that ethical? How is that choice?
[…] In New York City, 90% of women walk into the hospital stating they intend to breastfeed. But only 39% of newborns are exclusively breastfed. That means around 50% of mothers are not succeeding in their chosen plan. They’re not formula feeding because they want to — they’re formula feeding because something went wrong.
Taking formula off your bedside table does nothing to change your ability to choose for yourself. If you are not handed a formula sample in the hospital there is NO EFFECT on your ability to give your child formula when you get down to the lobby, when you get home, a week later, six months later. None. If you are given formula in the hospital we know (based on formula company research) that women are less likely to breastfeed. This means that being given formula in the hospital narrows our choices. Not being given formula, no restriction on choice. Being given formula, restriction on choice.
As one of the self-employed people who pays for crappy private health insurance (e.g., no maternity care—hello), I both appreciate and envy this glimpse into life and healthcare in Canada.
I want women and birth to be as safe as it can be, while allowing freedom of choice in birthing location. I loved my homebirth and felt comfortable with my midwife’s experience and training, but want to know midwifery care is a safe option on a national level.
This:
Right now I stand for more strict standards across the board for CPMs. More education and experience requirements, and apprenticeships with multiple midwives, if possible. A national standard so that the term CPM can actually mean something.
I like the idea of making natural hair products, though I’ve had the same experience as this reviewer: They’re a little less convenient and a lot COLDER since they have to be refrigerated. Now that we have neighbors with floor-to-ceiling windows next door abutting ours, I’m a little more hesitant to run downstairs in the buff to get my natural gel out of the fridge.
THAT SAID, this recipe seems like one of the easiest hair gels I’ve ever seen (gelatin + hot water), and I bet you could fancy it up if you wanted to experiment (essential oils? would that make it not set?). {Editor's note: I recently found out gelatin is what synchronized swimmers use to keep their hair slicked into place, albeit in more copious amounts. Be careful not to use too much or you'll need a lot of hot water and patience to wash it out!}
FURTHERMORE (heh heh heh), I love the idea of this blog in general. Someone doing green experiments so we don’t have to! It’s a blogger after my own heart. (Hey, I’m still sticking with family cloth!)
I'm Lauren Wayne, writer and natural parent. I embrace attached parenting with an emphasis toward green living.
Riding the rails with my husband, Crackerdog Sam, and our hobo kids, Mikko Lint Picker (born June 2007), Alrik Irontrousers (born May 2011), and Karsten (born October 2014). Trying every day to parent intentionally and with grace.
I'm Lauren Wayne, writer and natural parent. I embrace attached parenting with an emphasis toward green living. 
