I’m here to talk about the Word of the Year, but first I think I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you about these cinnamon rolls. On a whim, I made them for Christmas morning, then again for New Year’s Day (today).  They have changed my life, in a very bad way because now I am obsessed with cinnamon rolls.  I am determined to make an orange version, similar to those pop-the-tube-on-the-counter sweet rolls from my 80’s childhood.  I have however, taken a liking to the Swedish tradition of fika in the afternoon, with a cinnamon roll and a hot cup of tea.  Really, what could be better than that?

The holidays were nice, even though I experienced them through the fever-riddled haze of a sinus infection. The week between Christmas and New Year’s is always my favorite time of the holidays.  Rather then feeling a big let-down, I tend to breathe a huge sigh of relief, as the pressure of the holidays seems to fade into a nice, slow, easy pace of nowhere to be and nothing to do. I love it. And this year I managed to stay up until midnight on New Year’s Eve, something I haven’t managed to do since having the kids. It was fun staying up late drinking wine, listening to The Daddy Monkey play guitar, and visiting with an old, old friend who may as well just be family by now.

In a tradition I’ve borrowed from my dear friend The Bird, rather than making New Year’s resolutions, I tend to choose a simple word to live by for the year.  I’ve been putting a lot of thought into what my word of the year ought to be this year.  Many words rose to the occasion: lovingkindness, gratitude, and peace. But really, I think for me it’s going to be about simplicity this year.  Simple meals, simple home, and simple schedules.  Keep it simple.

In 2012, I’d like to spend more time in this space, but less time on the computer as a whole.  I’ve been away from this space for longer than I would like.  Sometimes life just gets away from me and I’m not quite sure how.  I also would like to enjoy cooking again.  My cooking has been so strained lately, I’d really like to see some joy come out of my kitchen again (see cinnamon rolls, above). I’d love to learn how to play an instrument. The ukulele to be specific. I love how it sounds, and everyone keeps telling me it’s easy, even though in my many attempts to learn an instrument over many years, music just doesn’t come easily to me. I’d also like to spend some more time sewing for myself.  Make some new clothes which would allow me to  simplify (!) my wardrobe. I’d like to get back to some of my old cameras, and play around with film photography again.  It’s an old love of mine, and I miss it.

2012 was a pretty good year for us. There were some struggles for sure, but overall, it was good. I’m looking forward to The Girl’s fourth birthday this month, getting back into the swing of our normal rhythm of school and life, and enjoying the unbelievably gorgeous Florida winter we’ve been having.

Life is good. Happy 2012.

I’ve always been a great sky lover.  It’s always changing.  Always different. Always beautiful.

It’s one of my favorite things in the whole world.  When things are making me crazy, I like to look up at the sky.

Kind of ironic, being grounded by the sky.

Well, it’s been nearly a year since we started homeschooling.  I’ll admit I’ve been through all the emotions: happiness, confusion, bliss, hopelessness, desperation, joy and acceptance.  A wise friend told me that the only way to get through it was to change my perception.  My children, and the situation at public school certainly aren’t going to change. They are what they are. For better or worse.

Now that I have made it through to the other side, I am so happy to be here.  I’m so glad that I get to spend quiet lazy days reading books in the backyard with my kids.  I’m so glad that I’ve finally started meeting some homeschoolers, and we’ve been getting out of the house more. What a difference it has made!  Most of all, I am so glad that I’ve been witness to the development of my son’s love of reading.

We just had our first evaluation and he passed with flying colors!  What a relief.  I have to admit that through the year, doubtful thoughts crept into my mind from time to time.  But when I received a very large photo order in the mail for our homeschool portfolio, all of my doubt was erased.

We’ve had so many adventures.

We’ve made so many discoveries.

And side by side by side, we’ve created so much.

To top it all off, today we made a trip to our local art museum, and for the first time, the kids actually enjoyed themselves there.  It’s a place so dear to my heart.  As young art history student, so many years ago, I spent hours there nearly every week.  What a joy it was to share it with my children.

Yes, homeschool is awesome.

We were sick just a few weeks ago.  Just a little cold virus.  It took a while to make its way through the whole family.  Then just as we were all getting better, another one came.  I am really glad I had these dried elderberries stashed away.  Using this video, I made some elderberry syrup.  I think it’s delicious, but the kids aren’t really crazy about it.  Next time I think I’ll just use the berries and honey, omitting the spices.

I’m accepting this illness as gracefully as I can.  It’s a nice rainy day with some cool weather on the way.  A good day to hunker down with some good books, my knitting basket, and a cup of tea.

The Monkey Family spent the last week in Florida’s panhandle, visiting with family and recharging our batteries.  The Boy and The Girl spent several days with their grandparents, and The Daddy Monkey and I had our first ever kid-free getaway, in seven years of parenting.  It was pretty nice.  The photo from Friday’s this moment is a photo from beautiful Wakulla Springs, where we stayed.  While I would love to say that it changed my life, it did not.  It was lovely, and relaxing, and we had a fine time.  Except for being booked in a room directly next door to a loud family with lots of kids.  Oh the irony.  We switched rooms, and all was well.

I would like to say that we slept in very late, ate room service, and forgot about our children.  But the truth is that we woke early due to the thin walls of our old hotel, and that there wasn’t even room service offered.  And while I can say that I didn’t exactly miss my children, I did think of them a few times, even though I knew they were having the time of their lives being spoiled by their grandparents.

But–I can say that we enjoyed a little breathing space.  A little time in which we didn’t have to referee fights, wipe behinds, make fifty thousand snacks, and make sure everyone’s hands were washed.  We enjoyed the quiet of nature, took a wee hike and a peaceful boat ride, and enjoyed several fantastic picnics under the enormous pine trees.  The enormous wheel of brie we bought turned out to be a good investment, and the weather at the park was just cool enough to be able to sit outside. We enjoyed the song of dozens of cicadas, took the scenic route, and had fun playing tourist in a place where boiled peanuts are considered a delicacy.

The best part of a vacation?  Coming home.  Home to your own bed, where you know the sounds and smells by heart, and you can go to your own kitchen and make yourself a cup of tea whenever you like, instead of having to search the GPS for a Starbucks that is 20 miles away.  Where you know where you are going when you get in your car, and you can drive to the local organic farmer’s market and happily buy fresh, beautiful produce (even if it did cost $45).

Even though having a break from the children for a few days was nice, it wasn’t the earth-shattering experience I had expected it to be.  The effect was much more subtle.  I came home gladly.  To the home I have created for my family.  Whereas before we left, I found myself in a serious funk about motherhood and homeschooling, I came home and remembered why I’m doing this. Why I choose to live with such intention.  Feeling refreshed and ready for a new school year.  Looking forward to autumn and the cooler temperatures, a fall garden, and second grade.

It’s good to be home.

Day two of my personal retreat was just as good as day one, in its own way.  In the morning, The Daddy Monkey took the kids to his parent’s house for a swim, and I had a quiet house all to myself. Inspired by yesterday’s meditation retreat, I took the morning to clean and declutter my meditation space.  With a nice clean space to call my own, it’s much more pleasant to bring myself to practice.

After they returned, I went out yarn shopping and bought some lovely sock yarn and some jeans for myself. (Only had to try on about thirty pairs, but easy to do when you don’t have two kids with you!) I stopped for a few dinner supplies and headed home.

It felt good to come home to three smiling faces.  I really love these people that I have chosen to share my life with. What a difference it made to have some space to realize that. Taking this time for myself has made me realize how bad I am at making myself a priority.  I am committed to carving out this space a little more often, and asking for help when I need it.

We had a lovely dinner, the four of us, and decided to go for a swim.  The boys played in the waves, and The Girl and I sat on the beach after our swim.  I knitted while The Girl played in the sand.   It was really nice to reconnect with my family at the beach after taking some time alone.

And here I am in a quiet home again.  My three loves sleeping in their beds.   As my meditation teacher said yesterday, “I have everything I need.”

I began by getting some much needed acupuncture on Thursday evening, to help soothe my over-taxed adrenals.  It felt soooo good.

I started my day today by sleeping in, then enjoying a quiet, solitary breakfast.

Afterwards, I had the great pleasure of taking a half-day retreat at my local Buddhist meditation center.  I contemplated inviting a friend or two along, but decided that being by myself was what I needed to focus.  As it turns out, I ran into a friend there.

Just being in such a beautiful place filled my heart.  Hearing the words of a wise, young, vibrant, soft-spoken Buddhist nun filled me with not only a small sense of peace, but also gave me encouragement to take better care of myself.  Today’s experience deepened my understanding of mindfulness, lovingkindness, and even the task of ordinary household chores!

I wanted desperately to take notes during the teachings, but realized that in the two (!) bags I had packed (wallet, phone, keys, knitting, zafu) I did not have a single pencil. I felt a bit twitchy that I couldn’t write anything down. I decided to focus on listening rather than writing, and letting go of my attachment to always writing everything down. During our break, I asked my friend for a pen, and took a few notes on the back of my knitting pattern.  Ironically, when I left, I left both my knitting pattern and her pen on the chair next to me.  How’s that for releasing attachment?

I purchased a book and a lovely art card, and left feeling peaceful, rested, and relaxed.   I headed out for a roll of sushi.  I enjoyed my salmon roll (alone!) and read my book (with no interruptions!) in a lovely, sunny window.

I got home, read some Curious George, and took a nap.  Then I stayed in bed and read some more of my new book.

We plan on ordering in some Thai for dinner, and I am looking forward to it!  What a great day it has been.  Thank you to the Daddy Monkey for giving me the space to work on myself this way.

One of the tasks of meditation is to allow your heart to sustain a certain feeling for an extended period of time. Now if only I could sustain this wonderful, relaxed feeling every day.

I’ve been carrying this sweater with me everywhere.  Row by row, I had the entire body of the sweater finished and bound off.  It was time to start the sleeves when I realized I’d made a huge mistake. I was pretty proud of myself for not having a total meltdown when I made the discovery.

The following evening, I sat down on the couch with my yarn winder, and row by row, I unravelled my work and re-wound the yarn into nice neat balls.  A bit heartbreaking, yes.

While telling my tale of woe today at the beach, I was consoled by two friends.  One (a fellow knitter) who simply shared in my agony, and the other who reminded me that this was a good lesson in the state of impermanence.

Indeed I have let go of this, and surely I can let go of more.

I was reminded of Erin’s post from earlier in the week, in which she shared her frustrations of motherhood.  I can so relate, and while I try to keep this space of mine focusing on the positive, I would be remiss if I didn’t speak honestly that I am struggling through a difficult patch right now.  It’s the honest truth that all of us mothers struggle on a daily basis. And it’s okay to struggle.  I just have to remember that “this too shall pass.” Words I think I should just have tattooed on my forehead. I need to remind myself that yes, sometimes life is struggle.  And that some days it isn’t.   It’s the attachment to the concept of happiness that makes it so difficult.  How can it be so simple?  I love this quote by Arnold H. Glasgow: “Nothing lasts forever, not even your troubles.”

Remember my word of the year? Mindfulness. It seems I fell off the wagon and I need to get back on.

Mindfulness is the aware, balanced acceptance of the present experience.  It isn’t more complicated than that. It is opening to or receiving the present moment, pleasant or unpleasant, just as it is, without either clinging to it or rejecting it. –Sylvia Boorstein

Homemade organic blueberry jam.

Our new veggie patch, which is still a work in progress.

My first ever visit to the feed store. So much fun!

Reading, reading, reading.

Knitting this sweater.  For me.

Clouds.

Flame vine in full bloom, and full of bees.

Baking gluten free chocolate chip coconut donuts for my (almost) seven year old.

Also, this Madeline Peyroux song finds itself playing constantly in my car.  It is so perfect it nearly breaks my heart. Translation here.

“Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”  ~Confucius

Happy weekend, friends.

Yesterday, as the Daddy Monkey was tucking the kids into bed, I stepped into our back yard to enjoy a glass of wine and watch the three small owls that have appeared every evening for the past few weeks. Each night at dusk, they call to each other, fly from tree to tree, and eat lizards and bugs.

Soon after, The Daddy joined me, and one of the owls landed on a branch about ten feet in front of us.  She had a loose feather on one of her wings, and we could see it sticking out.  I said to The Daddy, “If only that feather would fall out, I would the the happiest person alive.”

The Daddy, in way of a reply, said to the owl, “Owl, why don’t you drop that feather?”

A few minutes later, the bird flew across the yard, swooping down about two feet from my head!  She landed on a tree behind us.  I turned around and watched her for a few more minutes. Then she flew off, out of our yard, dropping the feather.

I could not stop smiling. And it got me thinking.  The last time I saw these small owls in our yard was when The Girl was still swimming around in my belly, three years ago.  I did some research, and The Owl is a symbol of death and rebirth, and also of wisdom.  The last time these birds appeared, I had lots to let go of, and much to learn.

Today, I am far happier and perhaps a bit wiser, than when these birds first appeared to me. And the magic of last night’s experience lingers.