Do They Still Make Smelling Salts?

Mothers always get the shaft, don't they?

It's like they can't do anything right.  Work while your kids are little, and you're neglecting them.  Stay at home, you're coddling them.  Send them to public school, your kids are gonna end up heathens.  Home school them, they're gonna be weird.

I absolutely believe that a fair portion of all this finger pointing and blaming is done by other parents and just about anyone who sees any little thing a tiny bit differently, but the majority?  The majority is done by us, the mothers, to ourselves.  The guilt.  The second-guessing.  The inner conflict.

I don't even think my husband knows what second-guessing is.  It is a completely foreign concept to his brain.  When he makes a decision, BOOM, that's it, that is his new reality.  He also doesn't worry about what other parenting philosophies might have to say about our style of discipline or how we spend time as a family or anything else because he just doesn't care.  Like, not even a little bit.

Me, though?  I worry.

For instance:  a couple weeks ago, we decided to order pizza for supper.  Derek suggested Adelaide be the one to make the order over the phone, which is good practice for a relatively shy kid who could use some practice interacting with the world at large.  She agreed pretty readily, which surprised me, but also used my written script as a crutch (yes, I made a script of how the conversation would probably go- this was to help prevent any over-the-phone panicked pizza crying, which might throw whatever teenager was on the other end of the line a bit).  She did great.  The pizza was ordered.  There was no panicking.  But as soon as she hung up the phone, Adelaide buried her face in a pillow and didn't come out for five minutes, no matter what we said.  She just needed a few minutes to have her delayed social interaction-induced freak out and its subsequent recovery.

I worry:  Did I make her this way?  Is it because I stay at home with her and her brothers?  Did she not get enough time with other toddlers when she was teeny?  Did she inherit this shyness from me?

It didn't help that the previous day I'd had a little panic attack of my own.  Derek had suggested I go to my favorite restaurant with some friends, which I wasn't about to pass up, so I invited a group of friends, expecting one or two to say yes, given the short notice.  Perfect for my small group comfort zone.  Instead, the affirmative replies kept trickling in.  And honestly, I was excited with each "Yes!"  Because by themselves, these women aren't scary.  These are my friends!  They are kind and lovely and funny.  My first thought was, "Eight!  Oh, how fun!"  And I may have performed a dramatic rendition of the theme song to Eight is Enough.  But as the day ticked by, my anxiety levels started to climb.  I felt nauseated.  My heart was beating so hard is felt like it was trying to launch my blood outside of my poor body, not just do its good old-fashioned circulating.  An hour before everyone was supposed to meet at my house, my fingertips were numb, and I was in my room, flapping my hands and engaging in some lamaze-style breathing exercises.  Fortunately for me, Derek is used to this kind of thing, and folded me into a hug for longer than 30 seconds (I recently told him about an article I read stating that research shows one of those feel-good neurotransmitters is released when one is held in an embrace for 30+ seconds.  He has since been very dutiful about hugging me for the prescribed time, possibly because he knows I need all the help I can get), petted my hair, and only half-patronizingly said things like, "You're okay, everything's going to be fine."  And everything was fine.  The food was delicious and the company wonderful.

Because of all this, I wonder if I'm consigning Adelaide to a lifetime of anxiety and nerves, even when it involves her own friends and she's the one who invited them out in the first place.

Ah, but then there's my mother.  My mom is social and has always had a gaggle of friends (whoop, whoop, Big and Louds!).  I can no more imagine my mom panic-jogging in place in her room and reaching for her inhaler before a social event than I can imagine me writing a post without a single parenthetical statement (isn't gonna happen).  She threw parties all the time when I was growing up.  Most of them were Crap Nights, but every once in a while she'd have a theme- OH, like the Miss America party!  That was one where a bunch of her friends would come over not to just to watch the Miss America pageant, but also dressed as a hilarious parody of their chosen state.  Food was eaten.  Contestants were made fun of.  Kansas was rooted for.  Strangely, the only costume I can remember with any clarity was Debby's; she dressed as Miss Arkansas, and I'm pretty sure she wore cut-off denim overalls with just a bra underneath and she mussed and tousled her short dark hair.  And she blacked out one of her teeth.  And spoke in a charming Ozark twang.

So if my mom, Miss Party Central, could produce me, Flaps Her Hands and Hyperventilates (that's my Indian name, you know), then perhaps there's hope for Adelaide after all.

A Plant and Ballet List

Let's break up all this Waste Not business with a list, shall we?

• I transferred my seedlings to their own little peat pots last night.

Upgrading seedlings from their nascent egg carton home to these temporary little pots is kind of like watching your children participate in an elementary school's graduation ceremony:  fun but meaningful only to the most sentimental of parents.  And with this I'm also whispering "Don't die don't die don't die don't die" while disentangling their fragile little root systems.  Hopefully I won't find myself doing this when our children actually leave grade school.

Right now they're enjoying (the seedlings, not our children- why on earth would I talk about our children when there are plants to talk about HAHAHAHA) their first beautiful spring morning out of doors:

No, the makeshift cold frame probably isn't necessary- I mean, it is 50 degrees out there, and I'm only leaving them out there for a few hours to start hardening them off- but I'm a bit of an overprotective gardener, especially since, as I was placing the little pots on the back deck and covering them up, I pictured each little plant as an elderly person I wheeling toward a window so they could enjoy some sunshine.  

I'm not sure why I insist on this constant anthropomorphization of my plants.  It's just a thing I do.  

• Atticus (see, we do have children!) is still a weird sleeper:

His knees are hooked over the green side of the toy box there (I just accidentally typed "boy box" which made me snuffle and chortle), effectively folding him in half.  I continue to maintain that Atticus would make a great ballet dancer: He's got a lean build, is crazy flexible, loves music, and really loves the female half of the human race.  I think I'll start calling him "Misha."  We'll see what happens.

• My first tulips bloomed!  Unfortunately, their prime blooming time fell during the five days and nights of near-constant rain we had over the past week, so I really only got to enjoy them when pulling into and out of the driveway.  It did save me from taking a million pictures of them, however, so at least you're spared that.

Look at that!  I can cross off the first thing on my list for today ("Bang out List post"), so it's time to get ready for the day; we're leaving for Pella's tulip festival (my first time!) in about an hour.  Huzzah!

Waste Not: Energy and Paper Products

As I'm not an authority on all things Energy-related by any stretch of the imagination, I'm just going to point you toward a favorite resource of mine I found on our energy provider's website:

101 Easy Ways to Save Energy

If you're an energy-saving expert, I would bet that there's at least a couple things in that link you either hadn't thought of or aren't already doing; if you're more of a novice:  Don't be overwhelmed.  We've been slowly decreasing our waste over the past several years, executing one or two new waste-reduction measures at a time.  Maybe pick one of the things in that list, and do that.  You'll find how easy it is, try something else new in a month or two, marvel at how simple these changes are and how good it feels to waste less, then before long you'll be that annoying person that sneaks into your friends' houses to install aerators on all their faucets and sorts their trash for recycling.  IT'S GONNA BE GREAT.



Now, how about a list about paper?

•   I won't talk about all the wasted paper that comes home in one of our children's backpack (SO.MUCH.PAPER.), but I will mention another of our children who, if you look at the backside of most of his preschool creations, you'll find junk mail and such the preschool teacher is obviously reusing.  How much paper do we immediately throw away after opening the mail?  I've started setting aside the paper that's only been printed on one side for our children to use, as they're heavily into coloring and painting and creative wastefulness.

• Paper towels.  This is one we've been working on decreasing, although I do still keep a roll under the sink.  My darling mother was kind enough to buy me some Norwex cleaning cloths, which I use for cleaning the bathroom sinks, mirrors, all our windows, and just about any other surface other than the toilet.  I'm ashamed to say I still use paper towels on our toilet, because I'm a little eeked out about using my fancy cloths on there, especially with three males in the house whose aim is often less than stellar.  I'm working up to using some of our cheap terry cloths on the toilets- I got them from Wal-Mart around eight years ago, and they've held up really well.  After all, if people can wash cloth diapers in the washing machine, I suppose I can handle washing a cloth used to clean our toilets.  I guess.  Probably.  We'll see.

• Napkins. We, apparently, are a nasty, nasty family, as in general we neither own nor use even paper napkins, although we do on occasion make use of those dreaded paper towels if we're eating spaghetti or pizza.  Enter cloth napkins!  If you're like me and have a fabric stash, it's the easiest thing in the world to cut them into squares and hem them.  Or you can get something like a set of 12 napkins for $12 at Wal-Mart for all you fertile Catholic families.  Cloth napkins have the added benefit of instantly making every family meal feel uber-fancy.  I suggest you obey any subsequent urges to start wearing a monocle or carrying a cane for twirling around.  (Sidenote:  it would seem that all my notions of class and fanciness come from Mr. Peanut.  I'm choosing not to ponder too deeply what this says about me.)

• Kleenex.  First of all, please be aware that I know this is where I will lose some of you.  I may not have known that three days ago, however, had I not waved around my pretty embroidered handkerchief at supper with friends and seen some of them cringe away from me in horror.  I see nothing wrong with using my handkerchief when it's for allergies or for when I'm cold or working out and my nose-faucet forgets how to turn itself off.  Rest assured, when I'm actually sick I still use disposable tissues.  (And I wash my hands a lot on a daily basis, okay?)  But really, I've watched my grandpa use a handkerchief for years, and let's be honest, the world would most likely be a much better place if everyone were a little more like Edgar Von Soosten.  I should note that I have not switched the rest of our family over to handkerchiefs.  I have mixed feelings about our children using hankies, although it would probably be more sanitary than some of the methods of snot removal they currently employ.  And you are welcome for not describing those in detail.

• Coffee Filters.  I've been looking around my house over the past week, trying to identify paper goods we can replace with their more economical and ecologically-friendly alternatives, and coffee filters was one I just noticed this morning.  I know those filters go into my compost pile when I'm done, but still- it feels more ecologically and financially sound not to purchase them in the first place.  A quick google search led me to mesh filters, which can apparently be found at Wal-Mart and on Amazon for $5 or less (or a lot more, because I guess some people just can't stand not to pay $60 for coffee filters- thanks, Sur la Table!).  Do any of you have any experience with these mesh-style filters?  Do they work okay?  Any complaints about or praise for them?  And yes, I know there are "environmentally friendly" paper coffee filters, but to me, those are still filters that are made from trees and had to be produced by some kind of machinery that uses some kind fuel to run.  I'm sure we could get into all kinds of debates regarding the worthiness of eco-friendly paper filters vs plastic-including mesh filters, but I don't know enough to possibly participate, much less win, this debate, so... someone go research that for me.  Please.

• Other stuff.  Looking around my house, the only other major sources of paper consumption appear to be toilet paper (which isn't going anywhere, okay?  Well, I suppose it is, right down the toilet, but you know- we're not getting rid of it.  We're just not.) and books, and the only way you'll suggest I switch exclusively to ebooks is if you've been searching for some passive aggressive way to end our friendship.  

Any other paper-replacing suggestions?  I have a feeling I have big blind spots where paper products are concerned, but they seem to be hiding from me, as blind spots are wont to do.  Help.

Waste Not: Laundry

My bible study is currently embracing that one book I've told you about two or three hundred times (7 by Jen Hatmaker, which is about creating margin and the concept of the biblical fast but is somehow simultaneously hilarious), which means that each week, following along with Jen, we find a way to create a personal fast around that chapter's topic.  The first week I only ate 7 foods.  It was hell.  The second week I only wore 7 clothes.  It felt embarrassingly easy, given how hard the Foods week was, although I was cold a lot.  The third week I abstained from social media (although I did have a couple scheduled blog posts), which was harder than I thought it would be- I learned some hard lessons that week.  So now, here we are, Week 4: Waste.  Reducing waste in your life, understanding that taking care of God's creation isn't just for hippies, etc, etc.

The thing is?  I'm already good at this.  I'm struggling to figure out what I'm supposed to learn from this week.  I know, I know there are further ways to reduce waste within our family, but I'm having trouble identifying them.

This is not because I'm just so, so awesome.  We are a frugal family who lives on a budget, and that more or less forces you to eliminate as much waste from your life as possible.  It's not hard for me to pare down on wasted trips to the store when our van gets 16 miles per gallon.  It's easy to tell our kids to put another layer of clothing on instead of turning up the thermostat, because heating costs are expensive, especially in a winter like the one we just survived.

I've been thinking about writing a series of posts on this, the topic of waste, for quite some time now; what you'll find below is actually a draft of a post I wrote back in December (I think I entitled the series Frugal in '14, which I still can't decide if I want to find that embarrassing or clever).  I got three posts done in the series, reviewed them, decided that THIS ALL SUCKS, EVERYTHING I WRITE IS PURE CRAP, which I do a whole lot of the time but post it anyway, but for some reason for this I decided to shelve the series.  Anyway, given the discussions my friends and I have been having on reducing waste, I thought I'd go ahead and post the drafts, crap or not, plus write fresh posts, finishing out the series.

HERE'S WHERE YOU COME IN.  I'm seriously having trouble figuring out how to reduce waste in our household.  I know there are things we're not doing, but I can't seem to identify them.  So if you know of some trick corresponding to that day's topic, could you please, please, please, let me in on your secrets?  Please?





[Frugal in '14, Draft]

Ah, laundry.

I have three small children.  I do lots of laundry, which often includes re-washing the same load because there were M&M's/rabbit poop/ladybugs/crayons in their pockets.  (I check their pockets, okay?  I do.  But at some point children's clothing designers decided it would be a fantastic idea to put right around ten million pockets on little boys' pants, probably because they hate me.  I sometimes miss a pocket or two.  Obviously.)

I don't even know how people who live on a ranch/farm/anywhere near sand do it.  I'm pretty sure I'd give up the laundry ghost.  

But because so much of my life is spent doing laundry right now, I have spent considerable time considering all the ways to save money doing so.  Here's the list:

• Only wash full loads of laundry.  It's the most efficient, which is code for 'saves money.'  P.S.  I'm a little jealous if you only have enough laundry to do a partial load.  And by "a little jealous" I mean "trying not to hate you."

• We regularly receive a little pamphlet from our energy provider (which I'll go on and on about ad nauseum tomorrow- who's excited?!); one month it told me that the average dryer cycle costs around $0.50 to run.  This, of course, was all the incentive I needed to air dry as much of our laundry as I can.  4 loads of laundry this morning currently drying on the drying racks = $2 in my pocket.  $0.50/load may not seem like much until you look at how much laundry you do every week and multiply it times 52 weeks per year.  In the winter, this obviously takes longer because I'm drying everything inside on the drying racks, but when it gets anywhere above 50 degrees F, I put those racks on the back deck to dry in the sun.  It's amazing how fast a load will dry in the middle of summer.  I'd love to have a clothes line in the backyard, or possibly one of these beauties one day:

It's an indoor clothes line!  I found it at zorotools.com.

• If you're dead set on drying your clothes in the dryer (my family has threatened to revolt the times I didn't dry their towels in the dryer; something about "cardboard" and "sandpaper."  My insistence of "feels like money saved!" fell on deaf ears), make sure you're drying a full load as often as possible; it's the most efficient.  You're also supposed to try and dry one load after another, capitalizing on the fact that the dryer's already hot, so it doesn't have to waste energy reheating every time you put a new load in there.

• Make your own laundry detergent.  This is the one where people usually start to say things like, "Funny, you don't look like a hippie," and "Oh, so you're one of those people."  It's true.  I make my own laundry detergent.  And I am not ashamed.  It's easy, relatively quick (takes me about half an hour to make a batch that lasts around six months), and is ridiculously inexpensive.  I use the Duggars' recipe (you know, the Duggars?  Live in Arkansas?  Have a million kids?  Or 19, anyway?  See, you do know who I'm talking about!), which I found in one of their books but you can also find on their website (which I've so helpfully provided via that linky-thing back there).  I find all three ingredients- Fels Naptha soap bar, Arm & Hammer Super Washing Soda, and Borax in the laundry soap aisle at Wal-Mart, all for around 7 or 8 bucks, and you're not going to need to buy new boxes of Washing Soda (NOT the same as Baking Soda, trust me on this one) and Borax for a long, long time.

• As for dryer sheets- I don't use them.  We have certain friends, ahem, who claim to have static cling problems (that was hilarious conversation, let me tell you), but as I hang-dry most of our clothes, this isn't a problem.  As for softness, I've found a little vinegar in place of fabric softener in the washing machine works just as well, and no, does not leave a smell.  I do know people who swear by those dryer balls; Derek's parents have some, I tried and liked them, but just haven't remembered to hunt them up at Wal-Mart yet.

Okay, Laundry Divas (ugh.  Do me a favor and please don't ever call me that.), how can I reduce or even eliminate waste in the laundering areas of my life?  What am I forgetting?  

Eric Carle Flash Cards

I don't really talk about Stuff on here very much, as in, "Hey, try this amazing Stuff, it's totally amazing!" or "Get yourself to your local Stuff-Mart and buy as much of this Stuff as will fit into your cart!"

However, I would feel remiss if I didn't let you know about the Best Flash Cards in the Entire World.

That's right- flash cards.  Those things you use to drill information into your children's brains like a tapeworm through your large intestine (I would apologize for that analogy, but that's sometimes how I visualize the learning process- and now you will, too).  I know, I know, children learn best through play and experience and blah blah blah.  I'm all for hippie learning crap, okay, but I also see nothing wrong with reinforcing what they're learning and helping to make some knowledge automatic, like letters and times tables.

Enter Eric Carle Animal Flash Cards, which are approximately 8.4 billion times better than any other flash cards that have walked through the door of this house.  First of all, do you have any idea how many flashcards I've thrown away?  Because I sure don't.  Dozens and dozens, at least, because most of them are flimsy and ugly and get buried at the bottom of the toy box, where they get bent and torn, not that our children care, as they wanted little to do with them in the first place.

Eric Carle flash cards, on the other hand, are made of some kind of reinforced cardboard, the same material board books are made of, perfect for resisting children's destructive little paws.  Each one is also a small work of art, with an illustration of an animal by Carle on one side, and the capital and lower case letter on the other (he uses a xolo for "X," in case you're curious, which I was when we first opened the box, and urchins for "U," dashing my hopes for an illustrated flash card unicorn).  The letter side is my favorite, as each one also features a bright, graphically illustrated background.  They're just pretty.

I have to admit, they're a little pricey, as you saw if you clicked on that link I included above.  Well, maybe not pricey to some of you, but for me, who's used to garage sale prices, $15.00 is a lot to spend for flash cards.  But maybe there's some kind of holiday coming up and friends and family members are asking things like, "What should I get Junior for his birthday/Christmas/Hannukah/President's Day?" and ANYTHING BUT STUFFED ANIMALS isn't actually a helpful answer.  My mom got these for one of our children for some holiday or other a year or two ago, and we have used them to death (oh, hey, Mom- did you know Eric Carle also apparently makes number flash cards?  Aren't they pretty?  Did you see that helpful link I just provided?  Did you know Caedmon's birthday is in September?).  Or maybe you don't have small children yourself- these are a great gift idea for toddlers and preschoolers; it helps them learn and won't make their parents hate you for bringing another worthless piece of plastic into their children's lives.  Just saying.



[Note:  I'm not being paid or reimbursed or anything for telling you about these flash cards.  I just think they're awesome flash cards.  I'm also wondering how many times I can say flash cards in one post.  Flash cards flash cards flash cards.]

"Where? In a Trap! Well, Why Didn't You Say So?"

Yesterday (yeesteerdaay, all my troubles seemed so far away!)-

Do you guys do that?  Allow your train of thought to completely derail or interrupt otherwise rational conversations by stopping to sing the next line of whatever song your conversational words just prompted?  I remember it being a lot more charming when my 1st and 2nd grade teacher did it while reading off our words for spelling tests:  "Number five- 'love'... LOOOOVE BOOOAAAT soon will be making another run!"  Granted, Miss Young could sing her little heart out.  

Aaaanyway.  Yesterday... yeesteerdaaay... ack, okay, yesterday we had a little event here in the Crisler household.  Not "event" as in a birthday party or anything requiring invitations or its very own Pinterest board, but more of a... spectator sport, I guess.  And by "spectator sport" I don't mean soccer or tennis.  Holy cow, how about I just tell the story?

The thing is, we've had a little problem with mice recently.  Thankfully, this isn't a regular occurrence for us; the last time we had mice in our house was when I was pregnant with Caedmon and found a dead one at the bottom of our pantry embalmed in spilled Karo syrup and I had to chisel it off the floor while retching and gagging.  (There is, of course, a blog post about that little incident somewhere on here, but I really don't feel like hunting for it today.  Rest assured you just read everything about it anyone would ever want to in the previous sentence.)  I found evidence of mouse-related activity a couple weeks ago, Derek promptly set mouse traps using a highly specific method involving those wooden spring-loaded traps and a peanut and glue and peanut butter.  One mouse was dispatched within a couple days, thankfully after I had already gone to bed.  I had hoped that was it, that we had merely played host to a bachelor mouse too rootless to tie himself down with a wife and litter of darling disease-ridden mouse babies.

Yesterday, however, Adelaide and Atticus were rooting around in the pantry for an after-school snack when I heard the following conversation:

Atticus:  "What is that?"

Adelaide:  "What is what?"

Atticus:  "That thing, under the shelves.  (Starting to freak out)  WHAT IS THAT?"

Adelaide:  "I don't know!  I... is it... I think it's an animal!"

Me, hollering from the living room, because there was now no way I was coming anywhere near the kitchen:  "It's probably a mouse.  We knew we had some mice in the house, so Daddy set traps to kill them.  It must have caught one.  Just get out of there."

That should have been the end of it, right?  Anyone in their right mind would get as far away from the dead rodent as possible, especially given that Derek would be home in a scant 45 minutes to do what is surely one of his favorite man-of-the-house duties, namely ridding our dwelling of pretty much anything that moves of its own volition but doesn't have a Crisler-granted name.  And "BAT BAT IT'S A BAAAAT!" doesn't count.  We're talking Fred or Percy or Charlie.  (Gracious, who now wants to have a family of bats move into their house just so they can name them after the Weasleys?  Not me, but someone should do that.)

Instead, I began hearing things like this:  "WHAT- IT'S ALIVE!"  "AAAAH!"  "IT'S EAR JUST TWITCHED!"  "AAAAH!"  "Oh, wait, no, that's just a fly EATING it."  "AAAAH!"  "I'm going to touch it!"  "GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU DISGUSTING CHILDREN?"

Guess who said that last one?

Atticus was pretty freaked out by the whole thing, but I swear, had I let her, Adelaide would have set up a lawn chair to better watch such can't-miss activities as death throes and decomposing.

Derek did come home and promptly do the fun adult job of removing the mouse from the trap and throwing it away, along with the related adult jobs of picking up small brown objects and throwing them at the children while screaming, "MOUSE!" just to hear them squeal.

The State of Our Backyard Address

Let's take a tour, hmm?

Hyacinths that I just found today, and only vaguely remember planting.  As for color, um... peach, maybe?  For some reason peach is coming to mind.  I could have sworn I planted the peach in the front yard, though, in a flower bed I have been vigilantly searching for apparently nonexistent hyacinth buds.

Daffodils!  Probably!

Rhuuuuuuuubarb.  Ugly at this point, but I'm confident it will blossom into something beautiful, no doubt after some hard, character-building lessons that will teach it compassion and empathy for its fellow plant.  

This is my favorite stage for sedum, all young and green and pretty.  Don't worry, rhubarb, looks aren't everything; sedum is relatively worthless compared to your deliciousness in pies and crumbles and tarts.  Except that sedum attracts all those bees and butterflies to our yard every summer and fall.  Imagine that- a beauty pageant contestant with a worthwhile Talent.  Wonders never cease.  (Does anyone, anyone have any idea what I'm talking about at this point?  Because I'm not sure that I do.)

I found these munchable tulip sprouts in a neglected corner of the backyard; because I had completely forgotten about planting them, I didn't spray them with miracle solution (aka Liquid Fence), and the rabbits had themselves a pagan feast.  They have since been sprayed, and will hopefully recover.  

And now, I need a volunteer to forcibly hold me down this fall until I agree to finally write down what bulbs I plant where.  You hereby have my official permission.  Until I forget.