SouleMama

silver linings and quilt tops

There was a slight shift in my breathing this weekend, as I settled into a few projects here at home. The first few weeks of this whole thing felt like a frantic flurry of activity and anxiety. Getting my boy home from the other side of the country and sorting out logistics with the college. Tucking all the younger children into their home learning worlds, dissecting the beautiful curriculum sent home from their teachers and pulling out the parts and pieces that are going to work for us. Sorting out the technology here at home so that all of us can work and learn with speed. The giant worry and stress of owning a small business and having employees, and then the ensuing pile of paperwork to gather and loan documents to submit. Wondering if Steve would still have a job (for now, yes, his job is 'essential').  And of course, worry about my parents - a bit on the vulnerable side - and our friends - on the frontlines and in the weeds of small businesses too. And oh, so much more. I mean, the whole world! It's been a lot, hasn't it? 

And of course, none of that is close to over. There's still so much difficulty to come, and come it will. But there seems to be less for me to do about it, for right now anyway. We are lucky enough to have a home spacious enough for us all and wide open woods in which to safely roam. And with a lot of the 'getting settled into this new rhythm' behind us, we can do just that a little bit. Settle into home. 

I warmed up the machine with a giant pile of face masks, as one does these days. One for every single person I could find to give one to because that felt so therapeutic. And then some to donate as well. But then my mind and crafty fingers started to wander...and wonder. Digging deep under my sewing table I found the piles of three-inch squares, each in paper bags with my three youngest children's names on them, cut and stashed many years ago now. The baby clothes quilts! Yes! 

(You can see Calvin's here. And Ezra's here. Oh my gosh those archives are a dangerous rabbit hole for me to enter! That Ezzie of mine turns 17 tomorrow! In a blink!) 

As it happens (especially when you decide to binge the entirety of Cheer in one evening), the quilt blocks came together in no time at all. I decided, for Adelaide, to break up all the color chaos with white squares, which I think I love. And truly, just like the last two times I've done this project - and perhaps even more so now because of the emotion in the air - it was a walk down memory lane, remembering so many moments from her early years, prompted by the fabric of the clothes she was wearing! I also had a little moment of realizing just how many of the clothes she wore, I actually made myself. Hey, I did that! (Wink, wink.) 

The blocks are all neatly stacked now and ready for piecing together when I can get back to it, which I anticipate to be soon, because, well...home. But I got pulled aside, as my time at the sewing machine put out the beacon for all to join. And so the next day was spent setting up yet another folding table in another corner of our house (seriously with the table surfaces right now, it's nuts), to set up the second sewing machine for my little sewists. Scrunchies, pillows and dolls clothes are on the list and flying off this machine like nobody's business. 

Three cheers for silver linings! 

Your Schedule for the Day

It's raining here today. Again. There is snow in the forecast for the week ahead. That is NOT helping things and I don't want to talk about it. This morning, the kids were feeling the lag that such grey days bring. Ani, who really loves school and schoolwork in normal times, (unlike the other six of us, this child of mine gets giddy like nobody's business when a math worksheet is put in her hands) was resistant to doing her lessons today. It was early enough in the day (um, hello 7am) that I could foresee a day of resistance ahead and had NO interest in that (nor patience for it). So instead of directing her day, I asked her to come up with her own schedule of how she thought things should go. She loved that idea and hurried off to scramble this note for me:

Four minutes of reading.
Four minutes of coloring.
Three minutes of listening to an audiobook.
Three minutes of napping.
One minute of music.
Then clean up room.

After pointing out to her that this daily schedule only accounted for fifteen minutes (so maybe her math does need some work?), I told her it was brilliant and to proceed.

Here's hoping that we all get more than three minutes of napping in for the weekend ahead....

Take care, everyone.

All the Freaky People (and the teenagers too)

I'm babysitting the Taproot Market plants from Broadturn Farm while the market is closed and everyone on the team is working remotely. I'm doing my best to take care of these plant babies until the day we can reopen the shop! And I'm enjoying their green company in the meantime (as I look out my window at snow on the ground).

Ada found the canvas above buried deep in a dusty corner of the barn. It has Michael Franti lyrics, "All the freaky people make the beauty of the world" that Ezra (and I?) painted many years ago now. Ada was on a search for some blank canvases in the barn (you never know what you're going to find out there) so that she could paint over them. I approved the repurposing of most of them, but held this one back just for a little longer so I could appreciate it for a few days at least before turning it over to a layer of gesso and whatever beautiful thing she decides to paint on top of that. That little lyrical phrase of Franti's could certainly mean so many things at so many different points in life, but right now, it's reminding of how all the creative folks are rising to this current situation. All the art that's being created. All the beautiful creative offerings being shared. The many unique ways in which small businesses and makers and doers are keeping on and supporting each other. It's an inspiring thing to be sure. (And on that note, I added a little sidebar if you can find it over there to the right. Good Things in Hard Times. So very many cool and creative offerings are popping up right now, and I wanted to share some of our favorites. Let me know if you have something that's keeping you inspired these days, and I will keep that list growing and updated!)

But none of that - plants, or painting canvases, or "good things" lists - are really what I wanted to talk to you about today. I want to talk about teenagers. It seems that I have three of them in my house right now. Wait, what? How did THAT happen? I'm not really sure....but here we are. Are you there too? How is it going?

I'm holding my two little(r) ones close right now - we are doing all (most of) the beautiful school work that their teachers sent home. There are walks in the woods, and lots of fireside knitting and reading. Harper has discovered a love of sourdough bread baking (he made his own starter, what the heck?). And Ani is obsessed with making sure she gets the duck eggs before the crows show up to steal them, which is more of a full time job than you might imagine. And for the most part, I feel pretty good about being able to protect them from some of the very hard and real things that are happening in the world and in our family right now. Keeping them engaged, creative, healthy and loved. I've got this!

But oh, these teenagers. It isn't as easy to soothe their souls and spirits as reading a storybook by the fire and laying out a craft project for our day. In the beginning, I was struggling with enforcing our family stay at home rules ("Mom, you sound crazy!" "Everyone ELSE is still hanging out!"). And that was hard, but they came around and got on board with staying home. But now they are home, and honestly....what a time to be a teenager, right? To be figuring out learning online without the in-person interaction and accountability of those teaching you when you'd rather just sleep in; to be letting go of prom dreams and dress plans and spring internships, sports and graduation ceremonies; to abruptly end your freshman year of college without goodbyes (or your stuff!); to be maintaining relationships with a boyfriend or girlfriend from far away; to suddenly to be "stuck" at home at a time in life when social interaction with your peers is perhaps the most important thing of all? Oh these three young adults of mine certainly make me want to tear my hair out from time to time but for the most part, I so feel for them right now. And, for some strange reason (ahem) they are not comforted by Steve and I telling them how much worse this 'situation' would have been when we were teenagers (seriously, though? 1990 us stuck at home with no technology with which to connect to our friends, or to binge watch the latest show? SO MUCH WORSE, am I right?!). 

It isn't easy for them right now, and I worry about the isolation within the isolation that is happening for so many kids in this age bracket. The only thing I think I can do though, is to try each and every day to summon all the empathy, patience and love that I can. And, maybe most importantly, to give a little. That might just mean ordering online the likely very toxic hair dye that my fourteen year old daughter asked for (she's got black hair now, y'all!). Or putting - for the very first time in Soule Family history - a television in the living room so that they can watch movies together. And just rolling with it a bit, when there is lashing out or behavior I'm not thrilled with. Letting it go...on a whole new level. 

And also? Embracing and celebrating the moments when the magic happens and it does all come together. On Saturday, Steve and I found ourselves barely able to make eye contact about it, for fear of jinxing it all, as we saw all five of our kids, unprompted, playing capture the flag for the third hour in a row. Granted that may not be how most of the days are going, but it is happening. And so we hold onto that treasure of a moment, and we do our best to be flexible and to forgive. And to love. So much love right now, that's what we all need. 

reading the room

We talk a lot around here about 'reading the room' with the kids. Example: when you walk into a heated conversation between your parents and your older brother about his curfew, maybe don't ask in that very moment if you can have a sleepover. Or, perhaps when Mom is juggling making dinner and also what appears to be a work phone call, pause to think if you really need her to find that sweatshirt you've been looking for right in that very moment. Or, flipping the idea around, let's say you walk into a room looking for that sweatshirt and instead find your little sister crying about something, maybe you let go of finding that sweatshirt in that moment? You get the idea. Read the room. 

For a moment on Thursday, I forgot to read the room myself. Yes, I know, even after I just told you - and my sisters - and myself - that we all needed to lower expectations right now and be flexible and loving with our children. Yup, right after that, I started the day off by not heeding my own advice. We're still in the early days of what I think will be a long haul of being at home learning and working together, and I honestly wanted to get us off on a good foot - establish some rhythm and rules for how it was all going to go. Be consistent with our schedule and expectations and all that. 

Except I didn't read the room. I failed to notice that not only were the kids extra cross with each other but also more than a little sassy with me at the breakfast table. I also failed to check in with myself, and ignored that rising feeling of stress in my chest. And the grief, quite frankly, that comes out of nowhere sometimes. Nope, I ignored all of that and forged ahead with two simultaneous main lessons for the day. But as my voice rose, and so did theirs, and then I couldn't tell who was talking louder and what any of us were even saying....I finally read the room. And I decided that learning place value (for one) and ancient Egyptian history (for the other) were very important things to learn, but not like this, and not that day. Finally, at about 11am after too many hours of not reading the room, I read the room and called it a day. 

"I'm going outside" I declared, not insisting that anyone join me nor that they don't. And with that, the day flipped right on its head. I decided not to do the laundry (what's one more day?). I told the Taproot team that I just had to call the day off (knowing that we'll all have days like this right now). I grabbed a basket of handwork, started a fire in the outside fire pit (first of the season) and just sat with it all. My breathing changed as the day went on...and I felt better. But I also noticed - because apparently I'm still learning this lesson nineteen years into this gig - that as my breath slowed, so did everyone else's. Sometimes we can do that magical thing, Mamas, set the pace back to where it needs to be by going there ourselves. 

It was a lovely afternoon out there, truly, as one by one they followed me out. Ani slowly stripped off layers of shoes and socks and clothing, as all Maine kids do on days like that (with snow still on the ground). Harper brought out his bow and arrow for some target shooting and kept the arrow pointed away from us the whole entire time. Ada and her pup Sonny practiced new tricks. Eventually Ezra came out with a guitar. And Calvin found his way to the half pipe, skateboard tucked under his arm. 

The next day returned to a regular groove - or the new regular groove, that is. Lessons went smoothly. I managed to get some work done. The house was fairly tidy, and it all felt a little less dire. I don't know what makes those kinds of hard days come up when they do, but I do know that it's going to happen. And the best thing I might be able to do, is read that room and just let it be what it is. And get outside of course. That always helps. 

(Thanks for your incredibly kind and warm words this week. It's really nice to see you too!) 

Hi, friends!

Well, hello there! My goodness, it's been exactly a year (almost to the day) since I wrote here last with a 'goodbye for now' post. And of course, so much has changed in one year's time - the expected changes of growing children and all of that (really, truly, so much growth in one year happens doesn't it?). But oh, the changes in this past month! Or has it just been a couple of weeks?  Days? It's so hard to tell and I've lost count - the days are long right now (and sleepless nights make them feel longer). Anyway...I've heard from a few of you in the recent week or so, and I've been thinking about you all so much during these wild days, missing our connection and the space in which we shared so much at-home time and ideas. And I don't know what I'm doing here or how often I'll be able to show up, except to say that I've found myself drawn to this space for quite a few days now. I spent a couple of days trying to remember my password (ha!) followed by another day of trying to remember how to do a simple blog post (oh how quickly we forget what was once such a daily habit!). I really just wanted to say hello and let you know that I'm thinking about you and hoping all are well during this hard time. 

And, also. May I be so bold, ahem, after all these years to offer up a little homeschooling advice to those who find themselves, suddenly, without a choice, doing just that? Here goes: Don't worry about it so much. Take that beautiful curriculum that your children's dedicated teachers so lovingly put together, find the things that resonate most with you and most fit in your days right now with your children, and leave the rest. There, I said it (and I really mean it). If 15-minute incremental schedules and color-coded calendars work well for you and yours, then oh my goodness, DO IT! But if it doesn't? And if you're juggling multiple children suddenly at home, or working from home yourself, or worrying about sick loved ones, or wondering how you're going to get through this financially? Please, please, please go easy on yourselves. Take that vision of idyllic homeschooling life that's giving you a tightness in your chest, and let.it.go. These are such new times, and there is so much anxiety, fear and stress all around us - I really believe that the best thing we can give our children (and therefore ourselves) right now is a sense of peace and safety. Teach them how to cook. Let them linger in books. Embrace boredom. Just be together. 

Geez, after all those years of homeschooling questions I never answered and here I am, one year after saying nothing, just showing up and doling out unasked for advice? The nerve, right? 

But I really do mean it, and that's exactly what I wanted to say to you all right now - and to my dear sisters and my friends whom I'm watching try to figure all of this out. Be gentle and kind with yourselves right now. That might be the most important thing our children can learn from us right now. 

And here's a funny (beautiful) thing about blogging, or more accurately, writing in general for me.  It's both a reflection of what actually is, and an intention of how I want things to be, which inevitably translates into reality once the intention is set. Does that make sense? I'm not explaining it well. Except to say that after this long day of bouncing around between practicing the 11 times table with Ani (seriously, you guys, that shouldn't be a hard one for me to do, right?); struggling with understanding Harper's botany lesson; making sure Ada shows up for her advisory meeting online (she didn't); ensuring that Ezra is awake in time for his first class of the day (that didn't happen); reminding Calvin that we really do have to stay at home, even though this is SO much different, I know, than the college freedom he had just two weeks ago; fretting about Steve who is still going to work (his job being deemed "essential"); biting my nails in Quickbooks wondering how my small business will survive this economic storm; and worrying about my immunocompromised parents; and so much more.........after a day like that, a day which I know reflects so many of your own days right now.....I am going to turn it all off for the evening and gather my people around the fire with some guitars, some knitting, and a whole lot of gratitude. (Whether they want to or not. It's all a matter of perspective.) 

Sending loads of healthy wishes, love, and patience to you all in these times! 

See You Soon!

(Photo by Erin Little)

A few nights ago, while distributing laundry (oh the laundry!) before bedtime, I walked by the open door of the bathroom where the nightly toothbrushing party was happening, and something caught my eye. It may be that this has been going on for a good long while, but this night was the first time that I noticed it. Ani wasn't using the step stool to reach the sink to brush her teeth - she didn't need it. She simply stood at the sink, easy as pie. In and of itself, and surely to her, this was really no big gig worth drawing attention to. But my breath caught just a little bit and I was silently flooded with....so much. 

The thing is, I actually hate that stool. Truly, I've spent more time thinking about the dislike I have for that stool than really is necessary. I should have replaced it long ago simply to save myself from those wasted small moments of dislike whenever it caught my eye. But I'm too stubborn for that - it's far too practical and useful of an object to replace given the relative short period of time I thought I was to live with it (nearly two decades? ha!). It's nothing special this stool, obviously it's really quite ugly. But I've had it for seventeen years now, that not so pretty thing. I remember buying it, a whole other lifetime ago (it feels that way, anyway). I had a precocious almost one year old (oh GOSH was he precocious!), who wanted to climb, climb, climb and do everything himself and never sleep. Never, ever sleep. (And only sleep in the sling. While I was bouncing on a yoga ball.) I was relatively young, twenty three, and I don't know who spent more time crying in those early days - he or I. Mostly from simultaneous love, and exhaustion. The days were so. very. long. I remember being on a shopping trip with my own Mama (she was so good to me in those especially early days!) and my little guy when I bought that silly fake wood stool at a big box store. We were just starting out as a family, after a bumpy start (losing both of our jobs and needing to relocate when I was seven months pregnant with that young fella of ours put a kink in things, not to mention our youth, and him coming early, and so many other factors), and that step stool fit into my meager budget for things like that. It made my day slightly easier, letting him do his own climbing and teeth brushing. Simple but true. Never could I have guessed I'd be stuck with/blessed by that silly thing for all the years that followed.

Now, of course, that precocious little boy I could barely keep up with in those early years is preparing to move to the other side of the country for college (I still can't keep up with him obviously). And the little sister (with three in between them) that I never could have imagined even existing at the time, is officially too big for using a step stool to brush her teeth. Oh, time! 

Last month this ole blog turned fourteen years old. Can you believe that? I can't believe it. Time is doing funny things to me lately and I don't quite have the words to explain it. It's a lot of feeling, mostly. I know I've said that over the past few months here in the periodic times that I do show up to say hello, but it's true. That's where I've been - feeling. And doing it quietly, inwardly. So much has changed since I started this space all those years ago. Our family certainly has. The work that fills my days definitely has. And heck, even the landscape of social media and online connections has changed drastically. I feel like a dinosaur from the age of blogging and isn't that a funny thing? 

At the end of this month, the Sponsorship program here on SouleMama will officially come to an end. Twelve years ago, as blogging had become something I was committed to working on and at every day, alongside writing books, I wanted to find a way for it to help support my family with the time I was dedicating to it. I had no model from which to start accepting Sponsorships on the blog - every traditional model I explored felt not quite right for me - too impersonal and not aligned with my values. With the help of the very first two business that I reached out to - Nova Natural and Alewives Fabrics - I crafted the sidebar and giveaway model that has carried us these twelve years.  It has been more than a pleasure to get to know each business and the wonderful people behind them, to incorporate their products into my family life and home, and to introduce you to their work. It's been a gift and a blessing in more ways than I can say. But it's time for that to end, and after a few great giveaways over the next week, I'll officially be closing up that end of things here, full of gratitude for all the businesses that I've shared this space with and who have supported me! 

In the beginning days, this blog was like a lifeline for this young mom at home with little ones, trying to figure it out. It turned into a creative outlet and a place to discover and practice what I was passionate about. It gave me a space and the confidence to try things out, to pursue various ventures and creative projects. And now? Well now, my life has changed so much from those early years - with other work that fills my days and makes it increasingly difficult for me to blog like I once did. As well, my family stories are far less 'shareable' than the early days of babies and crafting. It's one thing for me to tell you about a sweater that I knit with love for a wee one, or the toolbox we put together for a boy who loved to call himself Purple Working Man. But the trials and tribulations (and even the joys) of older children and teenager life that fill my heart and my time right now - they aren't my stories to share anymore. I find myself with fewer words to share here and even fewer moments to do so.

Through all these years, the greatest pleasure from this space has been you! Truly. Hearing from you through comments and emails, making connections, and then sometimes having the privilege of meeting you in person and getting to really know you - well, it's been one of the greatest joys I've ever experienced. People often ask me if it's strange or irritating to be 'recognized' in public. And I couldn't feel more strongly, no! In fact, it's the most beautiful thing, because of course it's YOU I'm meeting (or one of you at a time, which is even better than a room full of people for sure). And by nature of that, we share something in common - it may not be specifically homeschooling or farming or knitting or even parenting - but it is something - and most often a desire to slow down, pay attention, live deeply and love a lot. Talking with you here, or meeting you out in the world as I've done gives me the sense that somehow we are all connected, and all doing the best we can. (Thank you for helping to reinforce that Pollyanna view of the world. It's good.)

Part of my silence here of late has also been my own uncertainty about what happens next here, if anything at all. I still don't have that answer, and so, I hope you don't mind if I leave that a little bit open-ended for now. And end today and this moment of connection with have with a most giant and heartfelt thank you and I'll see you soon! 

all love,
amanda

february vacation

We've just wrapped up a pretty fabulous February School Vacation week, if I do say so myself. When vacation was looming and all of us were still in various stages of recovery from the many kinds of funk that have been going around our family for the past month, I have to admit that I had my doubts about how this week would go. The kids said that "ALL" of their friends were traveling to warm places, and what would we do all day at home? Oh kids, I've got you. This home thing, we do it well. And we did - loads of chess and sledding and art and all those good things. And I managed to fit in a whole lot of out-of-the-house time too. Which means that there were several days of skiing, an epic cousin sleepover that we hosted, a few more friend sleepovers, a fun Nordic state championship, and gosh, so much more I can't even remember now. I even managed to squeeze in some very random but lovely sewing, which was reassuring that I still remember how to use that machine. (I know it hasn't been that long, but it sure does feel like it sometimes!) I made a horse-themed tote bag for a little friend's birthday (I told you kids, not EVERYONE is someplace warm right now!), and a pile of new potholders because the old ones were so beyond washing/repair that making a new pair seemed the wiser option than putting them back on the shelf as is. Utilitarian and gift sewing - my favorite. And there's nothing like an easy peasy log cabin to get you right in the groove. 

Last night at the dinner table, the most melancholic of my children declared "That was an awesome vacation!" Indeed, it was!