Rush hour

I'm currently out of coffee, so this was not one of my better mornings, parenting-wise.

I coaxed, I nagged, then finally bullied the kids into putting away their legos and eating breakfast. I rushed them to get dressed, and then crabbed at them as I zipped, snapped, and velcroed all the assorted winter gear. Finally, we spilled out into the backyard. The kids wandered in a daze, stomping on the chunks of snow, kicking frozen leaves.

I unlocked the car doors, barking, "Come on, guys, get in the car!" and L was standing next to the patch of ground where we started a little flower garden over the summer. "In the car!" I said again.

"But Mommy, I want to show you something!!" she pleaded.

"OK, honey, I'll look at it after you get in the car." I said, buckling J into the car seat.

"No, I want to look at it with you" she said quietly.

Huffy, I walked over to where she was standing.

"Look!" She said in a stage whisper. "The little purple flowers we planted are still there!" She was utterly delighted, thrilled that the flowers were still there, despite the recent snow and frosty mornings.

For children, these little discoveries in nature are so important, and they become even more special when shared with a caring adult. In our constant rushing around, it's easy to lose touch with that, to forget to notice and share the special discoveries our children are so good at finding. Or to dismiss them in favor of other more pressing things.

But allowing children (and ourselves!) the time to make these discoveries is such a gift. Being geninely interested in sharing those discoveries is the best way to honor a child's curiosity and wonder. We honor our children's relationships with nature when we value the discoveries they make. We honor our children's abilities to make discoveries, to notice things. To be curious.

I'm so grateful to my daughter for calling me back to what's important. I'm so glad she took the time to stop and notice, despite my rushing and griping. And I'm glad I took the time to share the discovery with her.

Even if it did make us late for school.

we're back!

It's good news that I've been so busy with work demands-there is a huge interest in the "children and nature" movement and I've had lots of interesting and inspiring conversations and lots of great work. I'm just finishing up with teaching a University class on Children and Nature, which has been wonderful but very time-consuming. The Bad news here is that-maybe you noticed the 6 month lapse?- my writing has taken a back seat. I'm hoping to change that.

Recently I attended a workshop on the Reggio Emilia approach to early childhood education, and I'm so intrigued. It's an approach that embraces art and creativity and where the interests of children drive the explorations of the class. I am thinking about how my work as a science educator can be influenced by this approach. I'm also very interested in learning more about how Reggio responds to the natural world, where it makes room for children to connect with nature.

Here at home, we've been enjoying the first snowfall of the season. Dug out the winter gear and hit the slopes for an afternoon of sledding. I'm convinced there is no better way to unleash one's "inner child" than by jumping on a sled in fresh snow.

How to be a total drag

Let me just start by admitting this: I have been a total grump all day for no good reason at all. Just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, I guess, and we have run out of decent coffee. Despite our best efforts, we all have cabin fever, I'm stressed about some work stuff, and the kids are a little, shall we say, tired of each other. So it's been a rough day over here. Perfect day to be outside, running off the extra energy, breathing some fresh air, right?

After spending the entire day putting off the kids' constant requests to go outside (I was busy trying to get work and projects done around the house, and stay on top of some work-related email)-I finally relented just before dinnertime.

The kids gleefully pulled on their snowpants, boots, hats, mittens, scarves, etc, while I got the dog hooked up with her leash and "gentle leader" and pulled on my own boots.

Bringing along a huge dog who has been cooped up and is also tired of staring at the inside of the house. Not a brilliant choice, given my mood.

We trudged outside and I tried-I really did-to bump up my own mood a bit. The kids were pushing their strollers around on the sidewalk and laughing as the dog pushed her face into snowpile after snowpile. I managed a half-hearted smile, despite being totally annoyed at the dog, who is way too big and lively for my liking these days. The kids trotted along, singing, while Nina yanked me around on the icy sidewalks. I didn't fall but merely had my leg and shoulder ripped from their respective sockets when some guy with a Wheaten Terrier walked by and Nina went completely nuts.

After that graceful incident, we approached a huge snowbank. I mean huge. This is the pile of snow that's been plowed out of our neighboring parking lot all winter long. It's probably a story and a half high.

L set her stroller aside and started to size it up.

Me: "No, don't go up there right now. This isn't a snowbank climbing expedition. This is a walk. Now let's walk." (Feel free to insert your own impression of my crabby, irritated, whining voice.)

After hemming and hawing a little bit she finally gave in. We walked a little bit further.

"I know!" She yelled. "Let's just run around this parking lot for a while! That would be fun!" and so the children proceeded to ditch the strollers and run in circles in a parking lot.

I don't know what I did at this point, I probably let out an enormous sigh and rolled my eyes. (I know! What's wrong with me?!)

I grumbled and grouched for a while and then finally hit the wall when they found a shin-deep puddle of near-frozen water and started jumping into it, then sat down in it.

Most days, I would be fine with this. Might even encourage it. But today? Oh, Lordy, not today.

So where did I go wrong? I was thinking about this while making our dinner tonight (which by the way was also uninspired and underwhelming.) I talk with folks all the time about barriers to enjoying the outdoors with kids, and I think hit a pretty good number of them today. (Barriers, not people.)

I wasn't in the mood, first and foremost. But this one can go either way. Sometimes you have to get outside and start breathing the fresh air before you get in the mood. On rare occasions, even that has no effect. I did try to "suck it up" for the kids' sake, who were so hungry for the outdoors today. But I just couldn't seem to do it.

Next: waiting until the end of the day? Come on. Anyone with kids out there knows that the dinner hour is a tough one for everyone concerned. Meanwhile I was stressed about housework, and work work and what I was going to make for dinner and trying not to get pulled over by the dog. Sometimes it's just hard to let go of that stuff. None of these things felt so large or important this morning, when I was fresh, well-fed, and ready for a day of fun. Wish I had seized the moment earlier, when we were all in good moods.

Finally, I was cold. I had neglected to put on a hat, or mittens, or snowpants. I was wearing thin cotton pants and a coat. It wasn't brutal outside today, but the weather still warrants a fair bit of gear if you're going to be comfortable outside.

And here's the worst part: personally dragging my childrens' mood from elated to grumpy, in about ten minutes flat. Really, I had no idea how bossy and un-fun I can be! Sheesh.

We interrupt your daily schedule to bring you....

This afternoon, in the midst of another days-long snowstorm, as the snow was just pouring out of the sky, we set out on our afternoon's destinations: a few errands, then dance class. As soon as we stepped outside, though, we all stopped in our tracks.

"Ooooh!" they both roared, in unison. The kids stood in the snow and leaned their heads waaay back to feel those huge snowflakes falling on their faces. I overheard L tell a tentative J "It's OK to get some on your tongue, try it." Silently, they marveled as the flakes fell. Just then, I knew the day was too good to miss. Dance class? It'll happen again next week. Groceries? I was sure we could scrounge something up for dinner. The library? Well, the books are already overdue, what's one more day?

Then we spent a lovely two hours digging snow caves, sliding on snowdrifts, rolling in the snow, eating the snow, and even shoveling a little bit of snow. It was utterly enchanting.



Are you ever able to supersede your "regularly scheduled routine" in favor of outdoor play? It can be difficult, and so many of us are frankly tired of the winter by now, it's not always easy to muster up the enthusiasm to go sledding again. But when you have some extra-special weather to deal with, like today, this monster snowstorm with huge, fat flakes? Can you let yourself -and your kids-just drop the routine and play? When you get a huge rainstorm, sheets and sheets of rain, can you just skip the chores or the usual stuff and go outside and savor it? Or on that first, exploding, gorgeous day when it finally feels like spring, can you forget about your errands and your housework and your appointments and just let the day take over?

If not now, when?

Win a few, lose a few

So, what do you do when you wake up on an absolutely splendid morning-sunshine, white snow, and temperatures so high you don't even need mittens? Well, you bundle up your kids, and head outside of course!

After wrapping and tucking my kids into layers of down and capilene and wind-proof fabric and fleece, I stuffed 'em into their car seats, then plied them with cheetos and juice to keep them happy on the road. Finally we arrived at our destination and I extracted a rather grumpy two year old from the car seat and plopped him in front of his beaming big sister, who was eagerly waiting for him in the big blue sled, in which I was happily planning to pull them around in the morning sunshine. I had gone maybe four inches when he started complaining that he was cold. (What? Cold? But it's almost 35 degrees!)

I picked him up. Screams increased, made more intense by the wide open space. I tried to put his mittens on his hands. His fingers were wadded up into balls, and he thrashed and screamed and yanked his hands away.

"I want more Cheeto's! I want to go inside! I want to go home!" He screeched. "I'm cold!"

L was still in the sled, pulling in armloads of snow, happily burying herself while she watched the drama unfold.

J cried. He screamed. I tried to put him back in the sled. He flopped out, then exploded with rage when he got snow on his bare hands. He screamed some more. I picked him up. He screamed.

"I'm cold! I want to go home! I want to go inside, can we go inside!" I urged him to try walking. He flailed around a bit, then begged me to pick him back up.

Feeling torn and guilty, I looked at L who was happy and would have stayed outside all day if I'd let her. I tried again to convince J that this was fun.

Who was I kidding? He wasn't having fun. He was cold. He wanted to go inside. I quietly resigned myself to this: It's just not worth it,this is not fun for him right now, no matter what I do/tell him/try.

What do you do when, despite your best efforts to make everyone warm, well fed and comfortable, someone just is not up for an outdoor adventure?

You go inside.

Thank goodness I have an understanding 4-year old.

Come Out and Play

Can you find my daughter in this picture?


If you're like most of us here in the Hinterlands, chances are, Cabin Fever has you in its grip. The temperature soared today! It was a whopping 25 degrees and did it feel good! The forecasts (for what they're worth) seem to agree it's going to be a lovely weekend.

Saturday at 10:30 AM, I'm hosting another playgroup, this time at a park along the Mississippi River. North Mississippi Regional Park is a wonderful place in North Minneapolis. This is a great opportunity to play and just "mess around" with your kids outside. We aren't doing a "nature hike" per se, and there will be no "guided walk"...although all these things are great in their own right.

But the intention of Saturday's gathering, as it is with all these Nature Playgroups, is to simply provide our children (and ourselves!) with a place where they can make their own choices: play where they want to play, do what they want to do, spend as much time making snow angels as their little hearts desire. Just be free to explore and play outside.

Most parents can agree: we all need some "unstructured downtime" as one friend put it. This is it, complete with laughing children, sparkling snow, and sunshine. I do hope you'll join us!

"It's a Beautiful Day Out Here!"

These are the words spoken by my youngest the other day. It was 7:45 A.M. Eleven degrees. I was wrestling him into his car seat, trying to strap him in despite his puffy coat, hat that was crammed down over his eyes, mittens on upside-down, slush-covered pantlegs and one boot falling off.

I snapped to attention. Only moments before, I'd been silently griping to myself about my lost mittens, the icy air, the slush. I was annoyed that I had to scrape the car windows (again) and we were running late (again.) And it wasn't sunny outside, and I was cold.

How often do you comment on the weather these days? To friends, family, to your kids? How much of what you say is positive?

What does the winter season mean to you? To me, it means many different things: glorious shining snow, owls hooting, animal tracks and sledding...but I also think of being cold, of the flu, of hot uncomfortable coats, boots, slush, lost mittens, car-scraping and how we've gotta weatherproof our old drafty house. It sucks the enthusiasm right out of me. And why is it so easy and automatic to focus on the negative things rather than the positives? (just look at the size of each of my lists!)

During winter I try to be mindful of what I focus on so that I can help my kids find positive things to focus on too...their experiences are so shaped by what we adults say and do, how we react to things. I want to know what their experience of winter is like, untainted by mine.

So what do you talk about when the weather is not quite what you like?

When we all traipse outside and it's a nose-freezing 2 degrees, rather than say what I am tempted to say (Crap! It's COLD!) I comment instead on how sunny it is. How pretty the tree looks covered in snow. I wonder out loud what the dog thinks of this weather. I'm not overly saccharine or fakey, I just shift my attention a bit.

If it's too early, or I'm crabby and I can't think of a single positive thing, as was the case the other day, I take Thumper's advice: "If you can't say something nice, don't say nuthin' all." And when that happens, more often than not, my kids will say something nice so I don't have to.

Special Dark

One of the best things about wintertime is how early the darkness sets in. (I know, I know, this is also one of the worst things about wintertime, too)

In the summer, we have to wait so long until it's really dark, it can be a rare treat to experience the darkness outside. But in the winter, there's often time to play outside for a little while in the evening, before bed. And, up here in the hinterlands, it gets good and dark very early.

How often do you play outside at night? There is something just wonderful about playing outside in the darkness. Things look different. Even here in the city, most nights, we can see stars. At least a few. That's really exciting. And the moon, seen from the backyard, rather than through a window? That's thrilling too! It can be so exciting to experience familiar places like one's own backyard, or the sandbox, or even the driveway and a sidewalk or path you've walked every day, suddenly in the dark. It takes on a specialness that is almost sublime.

And what is the first thing we noticed when playing outside the other night? Things are quieter. Which somehow seems to encourage children to be quieter. Very few cars drive by. We can hear dogs barking from a few blocks away. We move more slowly, as if checking out the terrain for the first time (and, in a way, we are.) The snow (if you're lucky enough to be outside, at night, during a snowfall) twinkles and sparkles in the dark. You can create your own snowfall by throwing a shovelfull up into the sky, then watching it fall.

The snow on the ground casts a special glow that is just incredible to play in. Snow angels look more angelic. Everything is more enchanting.

Bring it on

The snow is coming! It's been lightly snowing all day here and the past couple of mornings we've found snow on the ground when we got up. It's supposed to stay in the 20's or below this week. The kids are beside themselves.

So this is it! Winter is finally upon us. This morning the kids could barely contain their excitement. L looked at me after she had her face pressed against the window, "The snow is coming, the snow is coming! Are you sad?"

Now granted, it's no secret which season I prefer. Despite this, I do know how to have a good time in the winter, and have grown to love many different outdoor activities: snowshoeing, skiing, winter hikes, etc. But still. Give me an 85 degree day with sunshine over snow anytime. The kids and their father refer to themselves as "winter people," while I am the sole "summer person" in the family.

It is easy for me to gripe and moan about the season's change. I'm cold. Winter is so messy. I don't have gloves yet. I want just a few more weeks that are "unseasonably warm." But this morning, I wasn't crying. Despite the gray sky, the cold temperatures, and the oh-so-dry indoor air, I think I'm ready for this.

It helps to have kids who are so enthusiastic. Truly, they are my role models. I will receive this snow, this season with all the wonder and delight that they do. I will catch snowflakes on my tongue, I will drop everything and play outside with them, even if I'm not in the mood. We will play with ice, eat snow, and go sledding. I am counting on them to remind me how fun this can be.

what just happened?

Did I say fall was here? I guess I meant something resembling winter is here.

Today we awoke to a couple inches of very wet, very heavy snow. The kids raced to the window and pressed noses to glass, screaming, "snow! snow!"

After I'd consumed my RDI of coffee, we dove into our winter gear and went out back to catch snowflakes on our tongues. We made snowballs. We played with the sand toys (today's snow was the perfect consistency for "snow castles.") Made a huge heap of snow on our picnic table. Danced in circles in the yard. Watched the huge flakes fall from the white, white sky.

Then, we listened. The flakes were so big and heavy they practically landed with a "thud." A robin chortled in surprise from the cedar trees near our garage. Tires of passing cars made hissing sounds as they slid down the wet street. Before long the kids were ready to go in (and so was I, since I have yet to dig out my hat, mittens, etc from storage--hey, I said I wasn't ready for this!) and we had some hot soup and cupcakes.

Now there's a day.

So it reminded me, Lucy came home from preschool singing this sweet song last year, and overall it made the whole "Donning of our Winter Gear" process go so much more smoothly. I get aggravated easily in the mornings when we're trying to get out the door, and it helps so much to have a song to sing...the kids remember all their gear and it's impossible to be crabby when you're singing. Try it! (Special thanks to Miss Lori!)

Thumbs in the thumb part, fingers all together

That's what we say in mitten weather

Hats on our heads and scarves around our necks

Warm boots, warm boots, so we don't get wet!