Fall comforts: a morning snapshot and the best hot cocoa

Like most mornings this time of year, we wake before the sun. Merritt, snuggled into the contours of my side, pushes off me with his feet and frees himself from the coverlet, shimmying up to sit on our shared pillow. 

“I'm ready to get up!” 

Andy is out of town this week, so there is little choice. I step bare feet to the chilled wood floors, lean over the bed to gather him up in my arms, and remind him that Brother is still sleeping nearby. In a hurry I shuffle around the bed and out into the hallway, to minimize Merritt’s opportunity to wake the entire house.

We have lived here for less than a week and I haven’t yet learned our space by heart. I shield Merritt’s eyes to flip on a light.  

He lets go and scampers off to find his place on the living room couch.

 

I head into the kitchen to tidy up, lifting the trash out of its can and depositing the bag on the side patio. The morning sky is brightening; a blue hue blankets our yard. Our family of recently picked pumpkins cascades down the stoop, and a feisty breeze from somewhere cooler enters my pant leg at the ankle.

The long awaited Season is finally here, Fall weather and all.

Merritt has found a book to look through. I glance in the cupboard to make a decision about breakfast. A bottle of vanilla bean paste, a bag of semisweet and milk chocolate chips are arranged neatly in waiting. I remember my intention to make hot cocoa this week. It is Monday, which means chocolate for breakfast makes so much sense.

Within minutes the mixer is whirring at high speed. Sugar, cream, and vanilla, are whipped into a dreamy shape.

Roscoe appears at the door jamb, curls disheveled. He’s curious what Momma is up to.

I melt the chips, warm the milk and cream, and combine it together to present drinking chocolate that we top high with sweet cream, flecked with vanilla bean.

I pour three small cups and pass them out to eager hands. We sit together in our sleepy state, sipping Fall in the half-dark.

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Recipe adapted from an adaptation:

3.5 oz. bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
3.5 oz. milk chocolate, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup boiling water
3/4 cup whole milk
1/4 cup heavy cream
In a medium bowl, combine the bittersweet chocolate with the milk chocolate. Add the boiling water and let it stand for 1 minute. Whisk the chocolate mixture until it is smooth.

In a small saucepan, bring the milk and heavy cream just to a simmer. Add the chocolate mixture and whisk over moderate heat until hot. Pour into small mugs and garnish as you like!

The Outdoor Classroom

Behind the preschool's play yard is an acre of land that BAPP owns for nature walks and other outdoor experiences. As a novel pilot program, they are offering an outdoor classroom during the months of October through April. Classes meets for 1.5 hours every Wednesday after the official preschool day ends, and are held exclusively outside in the rain or shine, snow or sleet. (No thunder or lightening!)

Like the rest of the program at BAPP, the outdoor classroom's curriculum is driven largely by the children's interests and explorations each day. I am told they will build dens and other outdoor structures, learn safety, pursue crafts like whittling, and who knows what else! I love that Roscoe will have the opportunity to observe the nuance of each season with a group of his peers.

Roscoe is obsessed with the animal kingdom and is especially fascinated by predator/prey relationships, and the myriad ways that insects and animals are equipped with unique protections and skills.

Roscoe shared this first-day-of-camp discovery with pride and glee

Roscoe and Merritt spend a lot of time outside and their knowledge of the animal world is very impressive and yet, as much as I encourage observation and respect for what we find in nature, I've noticed that neither of them has great empathy for insects or animals. They will smash a bug without a second thought. Destroy a spider's web, kick up an ant hill, or tear up an earthworm.

My hope is that, in addition to all the lovely experiences forest camp will offer to Roscoe in the coming months, the instillation of compassion and protection for the living things that we come across in our adventures out of doors will be a part of his education and growth.

Would you send your little guy or gal to an outdoor classroom?

13 Great Parenting Books for all Seasons (of parenting)

Does Fall make you want to get back to the basics of cozy living, and focus on your relationship with your kids?

I wrote this piece to share my favorite parenting books on RichmondMom. You can read the full article here. 

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The start of a new season inspires (and sometimes demands!) a new family routine or rhythm, especially the transition from Summer’s jubilee to Fall-time’s responsibility and refocus on life at home.

As we march into Fall, I turn my attention from the warm, humid, and carefree adventures of a Summer spent out of doors, to the cool, crisp, and toasty retreat of September, October and November. For us these months of the year are about cultivating all that is good under our little roof, which includes quality time spent together being creative, sharing gratitude, experimenting in the kitchen, and creating a sense of tradition around the seasonal changes.

(Read more...)

Exploring Death: conversations with my four year old

Roscoe has been bringing up the subject of death a lot lately.


He asks matter-of-fact about the way death works and then unravels in disagreement and sadness when my attempts to deliver simple and honest answers (if I can call them that) miss his mark of four year old expectation.

He asks what will happen to us when we die.

Truthfully, my version of what happens leaves a lot to be desired, even for me, as we are agnostic—some days even atheistic. So I tell him (in these and other words) that our bodies stop working but that our energy lives on in the people who love us and who have ever been affected by us, and that our energy is literally recycled back into the earth and universe to nourish the future.

He wants to keep his energy, he cries in despair. 

He asks who will take care of his toys when he dies.

I sit there contemplatively silent, thinking to myself that there’s no need to worry about this as he’ll be moved on from toys, an old man at best. Yet I understand he lives in the here and now, and that his toys represent much more to him than I may comprehend.

I fumble over my words to explain some thing that will make any sense to him at all. He rescues me mid-sentence to say that he’s got it: his kids will take care of his toys for him! He’s satisfied and happy with this answer. I flinch, overcome with a warm wash of bitter sweetness imagining it.

Later, at dinner, he climbs up onto my chair, wraps his arms around my neck and pushes his warm little body against my chest. He whispers into my ear, “I love you so much. You are so special to me. I never want to lose you.”

I wonder if he’s thinking about death again. Mine or his. His inquiries and curiosities unnerve me.

The topic of death is one of my least favorite places to wander. Not now, when the boys are so tender and young. Not when our collective dreams (even our very purpose as parents) are so vested in one another at this time in our lives.

What troubles me is my inability to create a sense of safety for him. A truth, or knowing, that he can carry with him for certain. While I can stand to wrestle with the uncertainty of life, I wish for him to be protected from it a while longer. 

How does your own certainty or uncertainty on the subject of what happens when we die effect your ability to explore the subject with your kids?

The Birth Plan: 5 steps to a better informed birth experience

I wrote this piece about birth plans for RichmondMom. You can read the full article here. 

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“My doctor told me to keep my birth plan short and to the point, how do I fit in everything I want to include? I don’t want to be too demanding.”

“You can’t really PLAN labor, won’t my care provider tell me what I need to know?”

“A friend of mine brought a bunch of copies of her birth plan to the hospital when she went into labor and no one even looked at them!”

“I’ve read online that care providers and labor and delivery staff laugh in the face of birth plans. Should I even write one?”

“My sister is a labor and delivery nurse, she warned me that moms who write long birth plans are the ones who end up with a bunch of intervention and babies born by c-section.”

As a doula and childbirth educator I work closely with women, and their partners, as they prepare for the intimate life event of birth. I encourage every family I work for to develop a birth plan as part of their childbirth preparation, and as an integral step in their personal journey to becoming better informed consumers of maternity care.

The dismissive messages that often characterize discussions around birth plans undermine their many benefits and true purpose as a communication and information gathering tool. The process of writing a birth plan serves in at least three ways:

1. To help you to identify your needs and wants for labor, birth, and postpartum care.
2. To begin, or continue, a dialogue about your needs and wants with your care provider in the context of her practice style, and the policies and procedures routine to your chosen birthing place.
3. To engage your birth team to facilitate and support your birthing goals.

Reframe the value of your birth plan as the PROCESS by which the document is created and the degree to which you utilize it as a communication tool before labor begins. To merely present a birth plan document to Labor and Delivery staff on admission to your birthing place is to miss out on many of the benefits of having created the document in the first place.

(Read more...)

Preschool Days

Happy faces for the first day of school

We are two weeks into our first official preschool year. Roscoe and Merritt are enrolled at a small private Reggio-Emilia based program just 5 minutes from the rental house we are moving into next month. (Did I mention we are moving?!) 

The BAPP preschool is for children ages 2-5 and runs 9:30am-12:30am, 5 days a week. Merritt is in a class that meets 3 days a week on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. 

Merritt hangs his tote bag on his hook first thing when he enters the classroom

I'm so grateful that we got in, we were on the Wait List for months last year as they only accept a limited number of new students each year because of its small size and because the siblings of current students have preference, and this year there were a lot of rising little brothers and sisters.

Every morning when we arrive the kids wash their hands and the older ones sign in.

I smile when thinking about what his signature will look like by the end of this year.

The teachers document the children's learning throughout the day, and every morning at drop off I look forward to reviewing the latest photos and stories that are hung throughout the classroom. 

I love that the children's curiosity drives the lessons of the day. 

An investigation story

Observations from the two year classroom

A comparison activity

More observations for the little ones

A story about how the kids worked together to build a house. And then destroy it.

I love how compassionate the teachers are. I'm learning a lot just listening and watching for the short periods of time that I am present in the classrooms every day.

Teacher Anne & Roscoe, and Merritt in his classroom

Before school began, I was impressed that the boys' teachers made home visits to meet each student in their familiar space. It is such a warm and thoughtful way to begin their relationship. The older children pick a symbol to represent them at school. Roscoe picked a dragon. 

Outside there is a huge wooded play yard perfect for exploring. Roscoe learned how to pedal a bike on his first day.

It's kind of incredible the amount of time every day that is now devoted to some aspect of school. I'm still figuring out the logistics of drop-off routine and pick-up lines but I can already feel the difference that the schedule makes for all of us. I have little chunks of time every day to break from my mothering role (and to work!), and they have a little home away from home that suits our family so well.

If you're interested in the Reggio-Emilia approach you can learn more about the philosophy here, and thoughts on incorporating the ideas into your home life here.  

How is the back to school transition going for your family?

Foraging for Chestnuts

After living in the nature starved landscapes of NOVA, we were smitten with our backyard space when we moved to Richmond in the Fall of 2011. Canopied by a variety of mature trees, I was so happy to be nearer to the outdoors in general, that I downloaded this guide to native virginia trees and insisted on learning to identify not only those that grow in our backyard, but also the foliage we regularly encounter on our walks by the river.

Unfortunately, this daughter of a Forester didn't get much further than to recognize the already familiar flowering dogwood that gracefully grows outside our bedroom window. I think an illustrated guide would have served me better!

And then one day, these green urchin-like pods began to fall from one of the trees that I had struggled to identify. In the mornings we would peer out from the screen door to spy on the squirrels who cautiously ventured out into the open to gnaw at the prickly puzzle that is the outer shell of burrs. 

And we weren't thrilled when our carefree playtime in the yard was upset for stepping on small clusters of burrs (or prickles as we call them). Without shoes, which we hardly wear when back there, no matter the season, even those most careful about traversing the lawn could not avoid them. And still, the largest tree in the yard continued to drop more burrs with each day that passed.

From Fall burrs to Springtime pine sap and Summer inch-worm infestations, we realized in our first year that there are imperfections to be found even in something as lovely as living beneath nature.  

American Chestnut

The next season, as the last burrs were hitting the ground, we mentioned our nuisance to the neighbor with whom we share a fence-line, and he supposed they were chestnuts. Indeed.

This year we were prepared. When the burrs began to drop three days ago, we started harvesting them. We are foraging for food in our own backyard!

We find them on the ground like this:

There are usually between one and three chestnuts nestled inside each burr.

Like the squirrels, we have to wrestle with the casing and take caution not to be poked. They really do hurt!

 The only safe way to hold them is by their little tail stem.

Once the nuts are freed, we sweep the burrs up and throw them behind the bushes along the perimeter of the yard.

Our next step is to prepare the chestnuts for roasting. We have read that it can take a few days for the starches of the nut (which is primarily carbohydrate instead of protein as most nuts are) to sweeten up a bit. They are resting in the fridge for today at least, and maybe another day tomorrow.

Do you have a good chestnut recipe to share? I would like to try this parfait with chestnuts, sugar, whipped cream, and rum extract. I'll probably also roast a batch to eat with butter and sea salt, I hope the boys will enjoy them for snack.

Quintessential autumn

Perc tests and septic systems: an update on the lot

Marshland

The soil test was completed Thursday of last week. The results show that the land cannot support a conventional septic system and so an alternative system costing $10,000 - $15,000 dollars more will be required in order to build a home here. We requested a small adjustment in the sale price and received confirmation late last night that the seller has agreed. The next step will be an official survey, but there really shouldn't be any surprises there.

On Friday we were asked to confirm the location of the soil test to be sure that the general vicinity of the test was the basic location we envision for the house to sit. Andy and I were able to leave the boys with our neighbors and drive out to the lot to explore it for the first time.  Before this weekend we'd only walked the cleared area that fronts the road.

Andy models tick prevention fashion, and the accessory of the season: a machete.

One of the first things we encountered was a pretty impressive dumping ground for housewares and appliances! Otherwise, the land is mostly untouched. It is very flat and completely wooded with typical Virginia pine and oak. It looks like the land was cleared, maybe in the 40's for farming, because the regrowth is natural but still seems young. The lot is a rectangular shape and gently slopes up to a little peak somewhere in the middle (that would be the place to build the house). Passed that point (the last 1/3 of the lot), the foliage changes a bit and then turns to marshy ground.  Somewhere toward the back of the lot (we didn't make it that far) there is a seasonal creek that leads to a large body of water that began naturally, but has been damaged by years of gravel mining in some of the 400 acres that surround the property.

The soil test was based at this little clearing roped off with twine (bottom right). The machete was helpful for the underbrush and overgrowth, and especially for the spiderwebs overhead.

It is exciting to think about the ways that we can maximize use of the different aspects of the land. We envision clearing a couple acres in the middle for the house and a few key dwellings, namely a garage, workhouse, and guesthouse. These will be incorporated into the site plan that we'll have drawn up once we identify an architect, but we will construct them over time, probably many years. Otherwise, we would like the land to remain undisturbed for the most part. It would be nice to clear some trails for walking, and perhaps build a boardwalk through the marsh so that we can enjoy that space as well. A boardwalk that leads to a patio overlook would be serene.