a deep breath of calm

My girlies cuddled up on the couch together Saturday morning. Entirely spent after a long week away from each other each day, they took some time to reconnect, curled up under a blanket quietly watching The Littlest Hobo (any Canadian readers will likely remember the Hobo: it's actually the only television the girls watch). Still and calm. Sisterly love.

Peanut had a fun week. She enjoyed herself, learned things, got to know more of the other children from the congregation, sang songs, played games...a fun time all-around. But as lovely as it was for her, it came at a cost. Thursday night was pretty dreadful; Friday afternoon at daycamp had multiple meltdowns. If a typical Waldorf day can be thought of in terms of gentle breathing, daycamp is the equivalent to a week of hyperventilation. No down-time, no self-direction, no eating (my goodness, this kid can't eat a bite when there is any distraction) and almost no hydration (ibid) left our high-spirited and sensitive little soul a little exhausted and rather out of sorts. And once again, it serves for us a confirmation that our decision is valid, that homeschooling is the wise choice for our Peanut, at least for the foreseeable future.

Yesterday was our day of calm, a bit of Sabbath-taking, reconnecting as a family, as a sisterly pair. We didn't leave the house and just focused on finding our breath.

Today, more Sabbath. We're opting to skip church this morning, instead having a late breakfast and a leisurely walk to the nearby farmer's market. We'll pick up some seasonal veggies, have a little lunch of some pretty epic samosas one of the vendors makes, enjoy the sunshine and generally take it easy. Another calm, deep breath.

blinded by the light

One of the reasons we chose needed to live in this apartment was all the natural light. Every room has at least one window: the dining room and kitchen have extra-wide windows, and the master bedroom and living room even have two and three windows respectively, and south and west facing to boot. After two years in a north-east facing apartment surrounded by highrises, it is amazing to have light pour through our windows, even on dark and dreary days. Glorious.

The living room was outfitted with a rather redundant combination of roller and venetian blinds, as well as some sheers that hung to the sills. Within a couple of weeks the sheers were taken down (we wanted to let the light in, not keep any of it out!) as were the roller blinds. We put the curtains from the old place up on the rods that had originally held the sheers, but they started pulling out of the drywall, and the nature of the room prevents the rods from extending far enough past the window frames to allow the curtains to keep from obstructing the windows. Grr...

After much discussion, we opted to make roman shades. You know, the royal "we". One family trip to Fabricland, one truly fabulous post-Christmas sale, and we had acquired more than enough fabric to make 3 roman shades for the living room. Then began the procrastination. I wasn't terribly excited to start measuring and marking and checking and cutting and pressing and sewing more than 14 metres of straight, boring seams. The prospect was not attractive at all. But now that they are done, I am so, so happy with them.

The upholstery fabric was $3/m. $3!! I lined them with ticking, and mounted them using hook-and-loop tape stapled to 1x3s cut to length and screwed into the lintel of each window. I was fortunate to find this website that gives not only instructions on constructing roman blinds, but actually features a calculator to help with determining supplies and draw-ring placement. I made relaxed shades, which, despite needing to be dressed every time we raise them, I'm really happy about. The drape makes them both a little more and a little less formal than a standard, rigid roman shade.



Now that we have the blinds installed, and we have our new library happening, we can decide what painting needs to happen in the living room. I'd love to get to the point where I can sit down on the couch, look around and say, "Yup: we're done."

living in a library

I've always wanted to have a library.

Ever so rarely - and I do mean rarely - I will take the dog out for her short morning walk. Usually it's Jon who takes her, but last Thursday things were running a little late and I was up and dressed so he asked me to run her outside. As Wembley and I were strolling down the street, I noticed that someone further down the block had put a set of wooden Ikea shelves out on the sidewalk. I grabbed 'em.

We've had four printer-paper boxes packed with books in the storage room since we moved last summer. We've had the top shelf of the built-in unit stuffed with books to the point that nothing was remotely accessible: two and three deep and stacked three and four high, and shoved in at all angles. Ugh.

I was going to build some shelves to run the length of the wall at the end of the room, next to the couch. I even had my inspiration photos on Pinterest. I had measurements. What I didn't have was a drawn out plan for assembly, the time, the space or yet the motivation to actually, you know, build them. The books languished in their boxes. But finding these shelves on the street was a fabulous tipping point: I may not have the motivation to dive into constructing shelves right now, but drive out to Ikea and pick up a couple more pieces to extend the scavenged set? Sure thing.

I love them. I don't care if they are rudimentary - actually, I quite like the simplistic look of them - I just so enjoy having access to every single one of my books again. We did a major purge of our library before the move (I'm regretting a few of our omissions now, though) so we don't have so many books that I feel overwhelmed by them. I threw them onto the shelves haphazardly yesterday, so today I got to organize them.

And yes, it really was terribly fun. Who's got two thumbs and is a total nerd? This momma.

I grouped them by topic. Originally, they were, from left to right, starting on the top shelf: poetry, lecture notes and personal writing; Waldorf, parenting and birth resources, feminist literature and a hodge-podge with Dante thrown in without reason; Classics (plays and epics) philosophy - arranged more or less chronologically, political science - again, more or less chronologically including our copy of The British North America Act (what, you don't have it?), with a photo book of babies and a photography reference manual to add an air of randomness; 

middle shelf: novels, arranged by author and title; a shelf of all religious texts: general religious theory (Otto, Eliade, Paden, etc.), Christian theology, both medieval (Augustine, Aquinas) and modern (Niebuhr, Bonhoeffer, Barth, Frye), devotional materials (Chambers, Claiborne, Nederhood), bibles and concordances, followed by more practical commentary and history (Nishioka, Rutherford, Migliore, etc.) and then what texts I have from or relating to other faiths (Epic of Gilgamesh, The Bhagavad-Gita, Siddhartha, Darsan), and an old hymnal; 

bottom shelf: (hidden beside the couch) the printer; knitting books and magazines and a random assortment of books, including some children's lit; photo albums, large picture books, old school notes, church reference materials (Book of Forms, woot-woot!) dictionaries and a Fowler's, a bunch of Nortons and our collective yearbooks.

But then I took a step back and decided that it didn't make as much sense as I would like. You see, I may anthropomorphize my books a wee bit. I group my feminist lit next to my birth resources because I like to imagine that Hannah Arendt and Ina May Gaskin are enjoying a cup of tea and a chat by sharing a shelf; I have Alberto Manguel alongside Thoreau because I think a dinner party featuring the two of them would be rather awesome. So when I looked at the shelves, it seemed odd to me that my religious texts weren't next to my philosophical texts. So I switched 'em, the top shelf for the middle one, and stuck Dante's Comedia where it belongs, with all the other religious and philosophical texts (I put it there because, while it's poetry, my motivation for reading it isn't merely poetical, but theological in nature. It's a toss up, but it has to go somewhere, and Dante seems more at home alongside Diana Eck and Thomas Aquinas than Ezra Pound or Walt Whitman). 

It's such a joyful sight, all these books. Having purged so many over the past eighteen months, I can honestly say we have chosen to have all these books and have made the conscious decision to keep them in our home. When I look at our library, I don't have that self-satisfied materialistic feeling of pride in my possessions, but rather such enormous potential. There are so many things to read, and so many thoughts that could result from that reading. As a result of unearthing all our books, I've picked up a classic, Orwell's 1984, which I've somehow never read before. And we're all reading just a little bit more than we were last week: it's hard not to feel inspired to read when surrounded by books.

the most cost-effective, space-efficient washing machine ever

I've mentioned that the new apartment is awesome, right? You're sure? Ok, good: glad we've got that straight.

As awesome as it is, though, it does lack something that we haven't gone without for the past four homes, not since 2005: ensuite laundry. In 2005, popping downstairs to the coinwash in our little walk-up was no big deal. That was pre-baby, pre-cloth-diaper. And now here we are, two children, one still cloth diapered, and not only do we not have laundry in our unit we don't even have laundry in the building. What's a cloth diaper devotee to do?

Well, until we're in a position to get an apartment sized washer for the kitchen, we're going extremely low-tech. I mean really, really low. Cheap, too: the whole thing cost us $4.99.

Yes: $4.99.

What are we using? 

A 5 gallon bucket and a rubber plunger.

Sure, it isn't fancy, but it's very effective. I mean, shockingly effective. And did I mention it was cheap?


First, assemble your supplies. I was very fortunate in that The Extraordinary Baby Shoppe in Ottawa routinely has empty 5 gallon buckets sitting around looking for a good home, and had one right when I happened to contact the shop. Free bucket: score! Even if you buy the bucket, it will run you a little over $10, which is still pretty affordable for a washing machine. You will also need a simple rubber plunger. I opted for one with a clear plastic handle because it a) had a more rounded end than the wooden handle which seemed like it would be more comfortable and b) seemed less likely to absorb diaper-water. Ew.


Unscrew the handle from the rubber plunger. Take the lid of your bucket, the handle and a pen or marker (I ended up using a fine-tip Sharpie rather than the ballpoint pen pictured) and...


...trace around the handle for your plunger.


Now cut out the hole using a utility knife. You'll want to cut just outside the circle you drew so that there is sufficient space for the handle to move easily but not so much extra space that a great deal of water comes sloshing out the hole when you are washing laundry. Be sure to test the handle in the hole as you go, trimming a little extra if necessary. (You can see my make-shift cutting surface is just the underside of some unfinished wood utility shelves from Ikea. A little déclassé, perhaps, but I'm making a washing machine out of a bucket: if the shoe fits...).


You will also need to perforate your plunger to allow the water to circulate freely. Using a large drill bit (I used a 1/4" bit because it was handy: larger would work well, too, but I'd hesitate to go any smaller than this) drill holes in your plunger. I drilled at least two dozen holes through the plunger.


Be sure to drill through the inner layer as well. You may find it easier to fold out the inner lip of the plunger to drill through it. Err on the side of too many holes: you  really can't have too many here.


You're done! Put the handle of the plunger through the lid of the bucket, screw the rubber plunger back on and you're ready to wash. Add some laundry to the bucket (smaller loads wash more easily, though I'm surprised that I can get a full two days worth of diapers, liners, wipes, doublers and covers washed in one load), a tiny drizzle of detergent and fill the bucket half-way with water. Snap the lid on and get plunging!

I generally wash for 5-10 minutes before draining the water, refilling and plunging again for 3-5 minutes, draining the water again, refilling and plunging for another 3-5 minutes, draining the water, refilling and - if the last drain was nearly clear - adding about 1/4 cup of vinegar and letting it soak for at least 10 minutes before draining a final time. If the draining water hadn't already started to run clear, however, I'll keep refilling, plunging and draining until it does. Even the diaper loads don't take more than 5 rinses, though. Then it's just a matter of wringing out the laundry and hanging it up to dry. I also generally add some baking soda to the wash cycle: I figure if we're washing by hand we can use all the help we can get.

Huge thanks go to The Extraordinary Baby Shoppe for first posting about this washing machine idea, to Donna who got me the bucket, and to Peanut for amusing me at the hardware store where I bought the plunger. 

voices

Sitting in my living room, at this moment I hear Peanut's voice laughing and screeching as she chases our dog, singing nonsense songs while she 'cooks' her pretend food in her play kitchen. I hear Bubby, lying on her belly and spinning in pre-crawling circles, cooing and babbling to herself. I hear the clatter of toys and the crunching sounds of our dog eating her breakfast.

Somewhere, under all that happy din, is my voice. It's somewhere buried in my head. It is speaking, or trying, with too many thoughts to even be coherent. It is trying to get out, but most days I simply cannot find it.

Such is the problem with writing while being an at-home parent. Finding the opportunity to construct a coherent thought let alone actually write it down is challenging at best. And it's frustrating, knowing that there are potential posts, articles, goodness knows what else, locked inside, simply waiting for the chance to break free and come to life.

I may need to start having weekly Bridgehead wifi dates with myself in order to get the words out. I adore my girls, but it's important to listen to - and speak with - my own voice, too.

reminders

I struggle with remembering to do what I ought or to have the best frame of mind. I need constant reminding. I'm trying to think of ways to keep myself focussed and this is one idea I've implemented: short passages of scripture chalked on the wall. We've had 1 Corinthians 13 already, and now we've moved on to 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18.

our new bed: part II(a)*

I promised, didn't I?  I declared that I would have the bed painted before this baby was born.  And lo and behold:





I'm not sure which is crazier: building a king sized bed when you're six and a half to seven months pregnant or waiting until you're over eight months pregnant, practically term and potentially going into labour at any minute to paint it. I'm really not certain.  But it's done!**  And I'm still pregnant and still not imminently birthing, so all is good.

*I called this Part II(a) because it obviously doesn't yet have the baskets for the storage cubbies and the mattress is still our old queen size.

**It's not exactly completely done.  I had to prop the mattress up on the far side of the bed with only about six inches between the bed and the mattress so I couldn't paint that side.***

***And that side of the bed may sort of kind of a little bit still need all the trim applied.  Maybe.  Kinda sorta.

Getting there

It's Good Friday, so we've already been to church (where the readings were moving, the music made me cry - as per usual - and Peanut had a fit halfway through the first hymn) and had lunch and now The Recruiter and Peanut are hanging out together while I finish my lunch and start getting stuff done.

Like this.  I really want to have a new Easter dress for Peanut for Sunday morning.  I have a sizeable fabric stash, so even though the stores are all closed today, I have no issue putting together enough fabric for a 3T dress for her.  Since before Christmas, when I first saw this tute on One Pretty Thing, I've wanted to make it for her.  Do you remember this?




I posted that very picture waaaay back in the spring of 2008 and very little has become of that fabric since then. I made a few little applique's for a tunic dress for Peanut back at Christmas using the green fabric, as well as my little birds, and the brown with polka dots turned into the cover for a dirty diaper bag and a teeny newborn dress for a friend's little girl, but there are still metres left of both.  So here we go: an Easter dress with nary a pink or purple anything in sight.  Awesome!

In other news, yesterday I looked like this:




You can't tell, but I was actually feeling fairly well crippled in that picture.  I woke up feeling particularly motivated and spent the entire day sorting through boxes of mostly crap and trashing stuff, boxing things for donation, doing laundry and tidying and vaccuuming the apartment.  By 3:30 I realized that I had totally overdone it and my back was killing me, but I still had to make the place liveable, so I continued on. Ouch. Despite overtaxing myself, though, I'm feeling good and feeling fairly confident that I'm going to make it to term this time.  Come on, May 1st!!  Actually, May 2nd: we're having belly pictures taken on May 1st. Better yet, May 8th: my Blessingway is on the 7th.  So here's hoping!

And about that dress, the one I need to start right now if it's going to be finished for Sunday morning?  Have a look at my sewing room as it looks at this very minute:




I'd better get to work.

Our new bed: part I

Very early in the year - so, at most four weeks after we got back into our apartment following our little mold escapade - our bed died. I was in the living room, The Recruiter and Peanut were in the bedroom where she, Peanut was sitting on her toddler bed and he, The Recruiter, was putting away laundry, when I heard a very loud, very sharp "Bang!" Then silence. I called out "Is everything ok in there?" entirely expecting him to reply, "Oh yeah, fine, I just dropped a basket of clothes on the floor (we have parquet floor laid directly on concrete, so it does make very loud, sharp noises if ever we drop things). Instead, he paused and then called back in a perplexed voice, "No: the bed broke."



"The bed broke? Are you alright?"

"Yeah."

He came wandering out looking very surprised, and explained that he had been changing the sheets on the bed and rolled into the middle of the bed to reach the other side when putting on the fitted sheet when, "Bang!" and the middle of the bed simply collapsed.



After much examination (the hollow chipboard headboard had just worn out enough after only three years that the material holding the screws supporting the centre beam gave way) and deliberation, we opted to toss the bed (I'm sure that it didn't sit on outside for long and that someone scavenged it within minutes, a fact I find very comforting, thinking that someone may be benefiting from our decision not to make do with it) and put the mattress directly on the floor while we decided what solution would work best for us.



"After all," I said, "I'm not that pregnant, yet: I can still get up and down off the floor easily and this will insure that I stay really mobile!"



That was early January, at which point I was, certainly, not that pregnant, yet. But time passes and babies and the bellies they are inside get bigger and the mamas carrying them get less and less inclined to climb up and down off the floor, particularly multiple times a night for trips to the loo. So on The Recruiter's birthday - a day which he got off because his employer is fantastic - my mother gave me a ride to Home Depot and we bought sheets of mdf and lengths of 2x4 and trim and spent about an hour in the cutting area having everything cut to size for me. Boxes of screws and nails, a big bottle of wood glue and a $3 can of paint from the 'oops' cart and we headed home. And finally, at long last, I got it assembled yesterday night.



It isn't finished yet. Two of the benches still need trimming, and they'll all need puttying, further sanding and then painting before we can call this complete. But it's assembled and we slept on it last night.



It's higher than we expected, so I'm a little terrified that Peanut is going to fall and hurt herself. I suppose I'll just need to build a little stool or step for her to use to get in and out of the bed. And maybe lay down some small area rugs to cushion any falls. But we are all thrilled to be up off the floor.

The pics are all clickable and there are some others in the set and most have notes.

a little more living space

You know how I said that it was really cold today and our apartment was a mess so I was going to spend the day tidying? Guess who made good on that promise!

Since our little mold thing happened, most of Peanut's toys and books have been living in stacks on the floor. Eventually we moved them into laundry baskets. She couldn't find anything, it took up a lot of room, the living room was a disaster all the time and it was totally unsightly. Well no more: we have achieved order. The pics are all clickable and have notes on flickr.



Toy storage. Peanut's trunk holds soft toys (we purged a bunch recently, but we'll probably do it again in a little while) and the red unit holds hard toys, puzzles, blocks and books. The red unit is actually a chest of drawers we found, sans drawers, on the sidewalk in our last neighbourhood just before we moved. Until the mold adventure, it was sitting in the living room with stuff stacked on top of it and the inside entirely unused. Waste. of. space. When the mold ruined one of our two bookcases, we kept the shelves that went in it and discovered that they fit - sort of - inside the chest of drawers. We popped two of them in and had shoved it full of books that were rendered homeless by the loss of the bookcase. I had always planned to get rid of one of the sets of runners to make two shelves instead of three so that it would be a good fit for toys. I was feeling particularly industrious today (I'm going to blame hormones and nesting instincts) so I got out my tools and got rid of one of the sets of runners. It was big fun with a rubber mallet - you've got to love old school, glue-free mortised joinery!



The Christmas play kitchen and a little table and chairs Peanut uses for drawing. Before this afternoon, the red shelves were where the kitchen is now, the kitchen was where the table is, the table was where the trunk is, and the trunk was where the red shelves are now. The new layout works so well that I think we'll definitely be keeping things like this for the foreseeable future, so I'll hang a magnetic board and a magazine rack over the table to hold magnetic letters and art supplies, respectively.



Peanut in her space. She's so much happier now that she actually has room to play and can find everything, and I am incredibly happy to be able to see the floor! I still think that we have too many toys, and there's actually a wicker basket with some toys in it that hasn't quite found a home yet, but overall, this is a huge improvement and another corner of our living space looks and feels far more finished.

Maybe tomorrow I'll tackle the bedroom. Maybe.