Gift Giving - Locally, Ethically & Green.

It seems our society loves trends.  For some people, the trend turns in to a lifelong commitment (like my commitment to leg warmers) and for some it passes as soon as the craze does.  The last few years there has been a "buy local" trend. This is/was in order to support local struggling farmers, lessen our environmental footprint, and to know where our food comes from and how it's produced.  While we have become quite focused on where our apples may have been grown, we still don't seem to mind that most everything else comes from overseas.


This past April, a garment factory in Bangladesh collapsed killing over 1000 people.  While most people and news outlets were outraged and disappointed, it didn't stop anyone's dollars from flowing into stores like "The Children's Place" (yes, they made clothes there too - not just Joe Fresh).
Another "trend" where consumers were outraged for 15 minutes, demanded change, and ooooh 75% off pajamas…….

I'm saying this not to be "heavy" but to remind you that your consumer voice counts!  Put your money in things you say you believe in.  It is easy to beat up big retailers, but they are filling the demand we are creating!  

Whether or not you care about your environmental footprint, slavery and inhuman conditions in factories overseas, or don't think about what you buy at all 

you can still appreciate something handmade.   

While many of you are busy busy busy shopping for Christmas, I'd like to encourage you to support local artisans (or even friends and family) - and incorporate some handmade items to your gifts this year.

A gift for the Kitchen

Community Centres and the like are very busy this time of year with craft sales, Mom to Mom sales, and bazaars.  Make a point of visiting a few!  I picked up so many nice things this weekend.  Knitted dish cloths for $1.00/each?!?   In addition to hats, scarves, hand mixed scented room sprays, (and so much more) I found a great little gift for the kitchen!  

I'm going to go ahead and pull the description from the website:

"The SewEco Kitchen Wet Bag is perfect for storing wet rags, dishcloths, unpaper towels, etc., between washes. Waterproof, zip closure, and hangs from your stove or where ever you need it... it could hang from your stroller, too, for cloth diapers or wipes, wet swimsuits... or whatever you can think of :)

Wet Bags measure approximately 11x15 inches, have a waterproof PUL liner and a high quality 100% cotton outer. The liner and exterior are sewn separately to prevent any leaks and for a thorough clean when it needs a wash."

This is a local woman in my community, who also makes snack bags (perfect gift for kids - especially if you put something inside!), bowl covers and more.  If you're interested in something beautiful and homemade for the kitchen - this is the site:  www.seweco.ca or https://www.etsy.com/ca/shop/GoSewEco?ref=shop_sugg

Gifts for Coffee & Tea Lovers….

I recently bought my first Cuppow.  Cuppow is a company in the United States (I know - not local, but NOT overseas)  Here's an excerpt from their site:

Cuppow is an American company that grew out of a need to develop everyday products that would help us decrease our own eco-footprint; we have been committed to that ideal from the outset, and seek to achieve it along every part of our process.

I love drinking from Mason jars and this little invention made it so much easier (and less embarrassing).  

I enlisted the help of a knitter to make me some cozies for my Mason jar so I wouldn't burn my hands. Look at how wonderful this is!  I love this combo for so many reasons:

- I don't see a lot of other people with this cup, it's very unique

- the Cuppow lid is eco friendly, BPA free and made in an accountable factory where workers are compensated fairly

- It keeps my coffee and hot lemon water REALLY hot!

The lovely lady who made this cozy for me doesn't do commercial orders, so I traded the cozy for some wool (she kept all the leftovers) which means 2 of them only cost me $10.00

Enlist a local knitter to make you a few and give it as a gift with a Cuppow lid and a bag of Fair Trade coffee for a thoughtful and unique gift!

Support the Arts

I've mentioned supporting the Arts in your community in a previous blog post 

http://onlyfitinjustenough.blogspot.ca/2013/11/thinking-outside-box-gift-box.html

And I'd like to add to that by encouraging you to buy original art!  I have a few original pieces in my house and I LOVE them!  They always get compliments, start a conversation and even lead to others looking for original art for their home.  

I may be partial, as my Oma and husband are wonderfully talented artists - but I really feel that everyone can enjoy art.  Here are two Ontario painters who sell their work:

Melissa Fernandes

http://www.melissafernandesartist.com

'is that so' 24*36 acrylic 2013

Could you imagine having this beautiful piece hanging on your wall?  Melissa Fernandes is an incredibly talented woman in all areas of the Arts and visual arts is no exception.  She has had many successful exhibitions and has a beautiful portfolio   There are so many beautiful pieces of original art - stop buying mass produced crap and support a talented artist!

Amy-Lyn VanLondersele

http://bushel-and-a-peck.weebly.com/paintings.html

Full disclosure, this artist is my sister.  She has been locally commissioned many times to create individualized pieces for.  Her artwork is whimsical and vibrant and should inspire you to start adding original pieces to your home! 

Last but not least….. Get Creative!  You - YOU, the reader - Get Creative!

These toys have been well loved the last few years.  Around 3 years ago, when my son began to read he could not get enough of Mo Willems' books!  He loved them so much I made him toys of the characters for his birthday.  The Knuffle Bunny can be seen to the left, and The Pigeon (with his own Knuffle Bunny) can be seen to the right.  I didn't have patterns for these, and just pieced them together as I went along.  I had made a few monsters prior to making these but by NO MEANS could be regarded as a professional - not even close!  Take your time and be confident in your creativity, you CAN make something wonderful and unique as a gift!

Side Note:

Notice that the Knuffle Bunny book has a barcode on the front cover.  I purchased that book from 

http://www.betterworldbooks.com

They sell discarded library books and new books to support worldwide literacy.  

Here is a small excerpt from their site:

"Better World Books is among a unique and growing group of triple bottom line companies who understand that profitis not the only way to measure business success. People also matter. And so does the planet on which we all live.
For Better World Books, the triple bottom line comes in lots of forms. From helping to build a nursing library in Somaliland to offering customers carbon neutral shipping on every book they buy, doing good is not just a part of Better World Books’ business—it is the business."

Let me encourage all of you to spend your money differently - spend it to make it count!  

Your consumer voice is important. 

If you have any other ideas for shopping local, ethical or green 

send me an email, I'd love to hear from you!

The Homeless Man, The Homeless Chicken, and a Happy Heart.

I recently had a conversation with a 20-something about being "happy".  About how our culture tells us what we need to be happy.  A relationship that "makes us happy".  A job that "makes us happy".  A nice car and trendy clothes that "make us happy".  We seem to have this idea that the next thing will really do the trick and be our ticket to happiness.  

Happiness isn't something to be bought, found, or discovered on Oprah.  It isn't dependent on situations.  Relying on external situations to bring you happiness is a guarantee for misery.  

Enter the homeless man.

There is a local man who goes from home to home asking to do work in exchange for money.  His name is Dave.  My Dad runs the local homeless shelter, and knows this man.  He told me to be careful, that this particular person was an addict, very dangerous and would do just about anything for his next fix.  We never let him in the house.  Always kept the curtains closed when he was in the neighbourhood.  We gave him bags of groceries when he would knock on the door.  We would give him money if we had any.  We showed him love and kindness, despite being a little frightened of him.  

It was a Sunday afternoon.  The majority of my extended family had gathered at McMaster Children's Hospital to pray that my newborn son would see another day.  He was intubated.  Sedated.  Fighting for his life.  It was another setback in his short life of setbacks.  Two nights prior I was sitting with him in his isolation room in the NICU.  His oxygen levels were dropping despite being on a machine that forces oxygen into his lungs.  He was crying.  Writhing.  I tried cuddling him in every position I could manage with all the wires and machines attached to him.  His oxygen levels continued to drop.  His nurse called in the nurse practitioner, the nurse practitioner called in the doctor.  They decided to intubate.  I was asked to leave the room (which they almost never asked me).  I sat at the end of the hall, watching his room from what felt like someone else's body.  The nurse practitioner ran out.  He picked up the phone and I heard pieces of his conversation…. seizure… lungs filled with blood…. Nurses gathered at the glass doors of the isolation room.  One of them looked me in the eye with compassion I can not describe.  People in, people out.  People in, people out.  I truthfully can't tell you how much time passed.  It was no more than a second, and no less than eternity.  A nurse handed me her personal cell phone, asking me to call my husband.  I refused to call until I had news, one way or the other, to give him.  They stabilized my baby, made no promise of being in the clear,  and assigned him his own nurse which I thought nothing of until I was told that "was't good".   I was at the very base of my emotional and physical well, I had nothing left to draw.  I asked my parents, my in-laws and brothers and sisters to the hospital.  We tearfully gathered, prayed, and sang together - directly under his NICU room. It was one of the only times we left our little baby in his NICU room without his Mommy or Daddy there.  When it was over, I brought our other five children home while my husband stayed at the hospital with our son.  

We got home, everything seemed normal.  My then 7yr old couldn't find his laptop so I called my sister to see if she had taken mine home accidentally (we had the same computer).  I brushed it off, computers are left here and there and it wasn't a big deal to not find it right away.  I went to the kitchen to get everyone a snack, and noticed there was yogurt all over the floor and inside of the fridge.  My brother in law was the last one in my house, and I thought - man, what a slob.  Again, I brushed it off.  Snacks were served and I went upstairs to change into jogging pants (a must).  Suddenly, it all made sense.  My jewelry box was emptied out all over my bed.  My closet was tossed.  We had been robbed. 

He stole two laptops.  He stole jewelry that can not be replaced.  He raided piggy banks and took every penny.  He took a frozen ham, frozen spaghetti, and yogurt.  Wait, what?  He stole food?  It must have been Dave.  The man I fed, sat on my porch with and listened to his hardships, the man I showed nothing but love and generosity to.  It was his classic move.  Ask a family for work, get to know their house and schedule and rob them when they're away.

After a hard day, an indescribably hard day, my children had cops come to the house and document the break in.  They were tearful in realizing their money was gone, and afraid that he might come back for more.  

Before bed, I gathered all the children.  We held hands.  We prayed for Dave, that he would find help for his addictions and we each forgave him.  

We were hurt.  We were scared.  We felt violated.  

I felt like I wasn't in my own life.  Like I was watching someone in an HBO special:  A mother of six who is fighting to keep her family whole during the illness and near death of their new baby is robbed by a homeless man they have been helping.

Enter happiness.

No, I wasn't beaming with joy.  I didn't end the day with a dance party.  I was sorrowful, and frightened - but my heart had not lost its way.  I still had more things to be grateful for than to be sad about.

We climbed out of the sorrow.  I climbed out of the sorrow.  Because happiness is in us, not around us, and could not be stolen.  It could not be pulled away by each downward turn the baby took.  We found ways to be kind to each other.  To be kind to strangers.  To be kind to the homeless.  

Happiness does not mean you can't experience sadness, heartbreak, anger.  It allows you to experience those things without fear.  It's knowing that whichever way life turns, for the better or worse, that you will find your way through.

Enter the homeless chicken.

Five or six weeks ago, a woman was standing on our porch asking if we had lost a chicken.  We hadn't, but the chicken had been on her driveway for a few days and needed a home.  I went with her, brought the chicken home and made attempts to find her owner.  No owner was found.
We had a homeless chicken.  

The chicken is a risk.  She may have an illness she could spread to the other chickens and needed to be in seclusion for the first 30 days.  She will cause fights between the chickens as they work out their pecking order.  She will be more work - another chicken to clean after, to feed, to water.  

I talk to the children about continuing to help those who need it.  Even though we've been hurt by Dave, we won't allow him to change us in to people who are afraid to love and live generously.  

We tongue-in-cheek named the homeless chicken Dave.

We've used the homeless chicken as a way to remind the children, and ourselves, that helping others isn't always easy or smooth.   That the "risk" in helping others is nothing compared to the risk of living a life with an unhappy heart.   The key to a happy heart is not what can be attained, but what can be given.

“Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from your own actions.” 
― Dalai Lama XIV

I'm not sharing this story to tout the abilities my family has to make it through hard times.  I actually haven't shared much of what happened while we were in the hospital with anyone - face to face or online.  I'm sharing so that I'm not preaching.  I'm sharing so I can say to you, this is what I feel has made the difference in my life.
I'm sharing to encourage you to find true happiness.  Happiness that can make it through hard times.  We will ALL live through harrowing experiences.  Illness.  Danger.  Financial strain.  Death.   

I encourage (beg) you to find your true happiness before these things happen in your life, so you can find your way back out of them in one piece.

  

The story of my Hairy Pitts

My family isn't Catholic, but we do practice Lent.  Lent in a nutshell, is fasting or abstaining from certain things for the 40 days preceding Easter.  This is done to prepare oneself for the most important Biblical event in a calendar year, the remembrance and celebration of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  

Although the Faith shared by my family strips religiosity out of their relationship with God, Lent is a practice we have carried on because of its ability to cleanse our hearts and souls.  Think of it as a juice cleanse for the soul.  

One of our first Lent seasons we collectively chose to stop purchasing anything outside of food and gas.  Nothing new, or used was purchased.  While 40 days doesn't seem like an extreme amount of time to abstain from buying stuff it was actually very difficult.  It was post Christmas clearance season, plus lots of new things coming in for Spring, and for someone stuck in the consumer mindset it was hard.  All of this to say that this first observance of Lent led to a lot of changes in me.  

Removing myself from the buying culture made me so happy.  I felt relieved and more satisfied and ultimately duped by the system I had so unconsciously become a part of.  This led me to challenge other beliefs within that system - such as makeup, shaving, deodorant, etc.  Things society told me I needed to be happy just as it had with buying stuff.  

Enter the hairy armpits. 

I do not own the copyright to this photograph.  

Sophia Loren - one of the greatest beauties of all time, showing off her glorious underarm hair.  

I committed to a year.  A year without make up.  A year without shaving.  A year without deodorant.  A year without buying (I did make exceptions for buying used clothing on half off days).  A year of deciding what I want and not what I'm told to want. 

Although I could expound on what I learned about myself during that time, I will save you the Lena Dunham introspection (I love her, that wasn't an insult) .  The result was I made decisions for myself.  

I love shaving my legs.  I like shaving them, wearing shorts to bed and feeling how soft and silky they are.  

I like wearing makeup for special occasions.  I don't want it every day.  I don't feel the need to put it on every time I leave the house, go to an event or visit a friend.  There's also nothing wrong with putting on a pinch of makeup.  Eyebrows and lipstick are what I do 99% of the time. 

I like deodorant.  It's an essential thing for me.  I'm stinky.  Almost to the point of inhuman.  I didn't want to go back to deodorant full of aluminium and chemicals so I shopped around trying many (if not every) kind of natural deodorant and have found the stuff my husband makes me works the best.  I'm sharing the recipe today (see below).  

I love my hairy armpits.  Yes, there is a small part of me that probably loves it because it grosses a lot of people out.  I also have a slightly larger part of me that loves to challenge typical standards for beauty. Society's insistence on us shaving or waxing absolutely everything except our heads is ridiculous.  What the big payoff is, and 90% of why I don't shave my pitts is that my armpits feel and smell better.  No more razor bumps or ingrown hairs.  No burning when I put deodorant on after a shave (although that wouldn't happen with the deodorant I use now).  Nothing but glorious, soft, and what I consider beautiful, hair.   

You don't have to take a full year to try this.  You don't have to try it at all if you don't want.   If I can insist on you doing anything, just take the rest of the day and consider why you do things.  If you feel pressured to look and be a certain way, identify those pressures and relieve yourself of them.  People who love you will allow you to change (if it is a healthy change).  

Deodorant Recipe

1 tbsp cocoa butter

2 tbsp shea butter

1 tbsp baking soda

2 tbsp corn starch

Essential oil of your choice

Melt cocoa and shea butter and add remaining ingredients.  Choose your essential oil wisely.  I love bergamot and patchouli, but lavender, or peppermint are also great options.  If you have sensitive armpits use less essential oil (or none at all) and add as many or little drops as you'd like.  Mix well and pour into muffin paper or an old deodorant applicator.  Allow to set for 24 hours before using.  

Primary Occupation? Dad.... and he works outside of the home.

Fathers often get pigeonholed into two categories. I hear/read complaints about men who spend no time in the home, need to "blow off steam" after work and spend weekend after weekend partying.  I also find that fathers who do not fit this bill, who are out pushing babies in strollers or playing at the park, are seen as "forced" to do this.  There is a vast middle ground, often overlooked.  Not all husbands who choose to stay home with their family in their free time are under the thumb of a controlling wife, or "helping" a Mom who just needs a break.  There are many fathers, who play a critical role in their children's lives - who are as much a parent as the Mom, or primary caregiver (please allow for alternate family scenarios here - two mommies, two daddies, one daddy, grandparents, etc).

Spurred by the recent article about how men need two nights out a week with their male friends to be healthy and happy, I (admittedly ironically) need to stand up for my husband and husbands just like him.  Perhaps this article is true for single men, but even for single men - I believe the benefits of joining other men in community service, such as building houses with Habitat for Humanity or working at a food bank or homeless shelter would be more fulfilling and lead to a "richer" life as the article puts it.  You can read the article here:  http://life.nationalpost.com/2013/10/22/men-need-to-meet-up-with-friends-for-a-brew-or-a-brawl-to-stay-healthy-u-k-study/

When our first child was born, my husband didn't freak out, but he also didn't get it.  Yes, he finally understood I was growing a person - someone who needed me to stop smoking, eat properly and take care of myself.  It wasn't just the annoyance of my incredibly sore back, my inability to party like we used to, he was here - a human child who needed love.  My husband took two weeks off of work, 11 days of which were spent in the NICU, and afterwards was back at life.  We were happy, but he still longed for what life was like pre-children. 

We bought a house, a minivan, welcomed 3 foster children into our home, and went from two single carefree people - to two parents of four with a mortgage and heaps of responsibility - all within two years.  We had parties from time to time, with friends from high school, and they were great.  They were so great.  Costumes, food, games, sometimes belt lashings (long story), and we felt young and "free" again.  

When our second child was born, my husband decided to take some of his parental leave.  Our foster children were (are) very high needs and it would have been very difficult to manage a newborn and their behaviour.  I believe this is where the shift happened for him.  What he thought would be three months of leisure, family time, visiting friends out of town, a few rounds of golf, etc. turned out to be incredibly hard work.  I had a c-section with my second child, had some complications afterward, and was off my feet for a while.  

He got it.

At first, all he got was how hard it is to run a well functioning house.  A house where the floors are swept, dishes are done, meals are made from scratch, and kids are happy (and usually dirty - the dirtiest things in the house!)  The first few weeks, he didn't understand how the house could continually transition from disaster to normal over and over again throughout the course of one day.  How laundry that was clean and put away went to unmanageable in a week.  How three bunches of bananas disappear in fifteen minutes.  While I appreciated him seeing firsthand how difficult staying at home can be, I truly cherish what he learned in his heart.

Family is where it's at.

After his 3 months were up, he was heartbroken.  Couldn't believe he had to leave his family and return to something he now felt was so meaningless and empty.  He loved (and still loves) his job.  He feels he's good at it, it challenges him and he loves his co-workers.  It just didn't compare.  The last week or so of his leave, he spent a great amount of time and effort trying to find ways to make money while staying home.  He felt sick to his stomach each time he remembered his time at home was running out.  

He didn't take any trips out of town to see his old buddies.  He played one round of golf.  He didn't have a single night out at a bar, or a pool hall, or to the movies.  He fulfilled none of the things he thought he would in his 3 months, but didn't have a single regret.  He did take long walks in the middle of the night, with our fussy newborn in a sling, to help settle him.  He did do 90% of the dishes to help ease my burden of cooking for so many people.  He did spend special "boys nights" with his sons - watching movies like Star Wars and bonding over sword fights and popcorn.   He spent almost every moment with his family, and still wanted more.  

We have had two more children since the birth of our second son, and his parental leave has grown longer with each child.  He took 8 months for the birth of our daughter, and 9 months for the birth of our last son.  Each time he had to return to work it was the same scene.  Tears and gut wrench at the thought of leaving his family.  

I understand there are more Fathers who can't take leave than can.  Their spouse works as well and only one can take leave, he's a single Dad, he can't afford living on less, etc.  The point of this is not to say that Fathers should take parental leave, or have to spend all their free time outside of work with their family.  The point is, when you love someone - absolutely love them - you want  to spend time with them.  

Spending time doesn't mean walking in the door and opening your laptop.  It doesn't mean reading the paper in the morning (if you're lucky enough to see your kids in the morning).  It doesn't mean watching sports and using your children as beer fetchers.  You're not clocking hours.  You're building relationship. My husband had a head start, he had (has) a Father who walked in the door from work and laid on the floor.  Literally.  He laid on the floor and his kids would jump on him, play with/around him, and inadvertently massage him until dinner.  My hubby does the same; except the kids know they're helping his back when he gets them to walk up it and jump off his shoulders.  

I am a strong woman.  I have a tendency to be a leader.  I, very intentionally, insist on my husband taking the reigns in our family.  We make decisions together, he delegates many things to me, but he is the head of the household.  Because he stays at home in his free time, brings children to the grocery store or library, or helps on laundry day has nothing to do with my personality, my "controlling" him or his position in the household.  He does these things because he loves us, with a fierce intensity, that I am thankful for absolutely every day.  What does he have to show for it?  A wife that would lay down her life for him, who can't wait to rip his clothes off when the kids are in bed (watching your hubby do dishes can do that to a Mommy), and who picks up his socks from the TOP of the laundry hamper and puts them in with 99% no complaining.   He has children who love and adore him, who beg for the next "boys night" and are excited when he's home from work.  Most importantly, he has a family he his HAPPY to come home to, and a truly rich life.

This post has been husband approved

Why you should "date" your children...

Yes.... date your children.

Stay at home, work outside the home - it goes for all parents, date your kids.  Here's my short list why:

For the last 2 years, this little man (5 years old) has insisted on looking like an actual little man.  He wants people to think he's a little person and not a child.  He insists on scarves, tying his hair into a ponytail and of course a moustache.  He usually wears a marker moustache, but I surprised him and splurged on a more realistic looking one.  It made his day.  If someone smiles at him as if he is a child, he slowly blinks and turns away - like a grown man would do to any nuisance.  It's so hard not to laugh but it's important to him and I can't get enough of it so I play along.  

1. They need YOU.  It can feel as though you're always staying ahead of the tornado, and any of the conversations you have with your little ones are while doing something else.  Face to face time, truly listening and making eye contact is hard to do throughout the day - that's why setting time apart is important.   I only get to do this once in a while, and each child in my house gets 3-4 "dates" a year - so this isn't something that can't be worked into a calendar.  Set the date, pick somewhere quiet outside of the home, turn off your phone, and let your kid absolutely have YOU.  No dishes to do, no siblings in the background fighting for attention, no phone calls, nothing to take your attention away from your "date".    

2. You're sowing seeds.  My oldest is only 12, so this next chunk of advice is purely from my own childhood and watching other families (succeed and fail).  Parents expect, and need, a relationship with their older children.  Parents who are trusted are more likely to be told about a school bully, sexual experimentation or abuse, drugs, etc - and parents with a healthy parent/child relationship will probably see these things before they're brought up.  This communication doesn't magically happen between two people, and it is especially not initiated by the child (now a tween/teen).  This is a cultivation of relationship -where the Mom who listened to ridiculous stories about superheroes and boogers, and then girls and things feeling "funny down there", is a trusted person to hear the big stuff like friends shoplifting and an inappropriate Uncle.  I know it's hard to look at a 3yr old and think - I'd better get this relationship headed in the right direction.  We are so busy making meals, running errands, wiping bums - but that 3 year old becomes a not-3-year-old so quickly and building the relationship becomes more difficult the longer you wait.  

3. Activities are not included.  Soccer practice, karate, dance, etc. are not one on one time with a parent.  Most families play this scene on their way to an activity.... hurry up and get out the door before I explode, don't talk I'm concentrating on speeding to whatever we're late for, and phew... go do whatever activity I'm paying a fortune for you to complain about attending.  There are variations as always, but most outings look that way for a lot of families (even really nice families that don't fight during this process but it's the same process nonetheless).  I'm not saying being involved in programs, sports, and leisure activities aren't important or good - I'm just saying it doesn't count.  

4. You'll love it.  Having more than one child means I can't lavish attention on everyone all the time.  I spend no time watching tv while they are awake, spend very little time on the computer or phone (no games) during the day (you have to watch yourself or it gets addictive), and use the majority of my time cleaning, prepping meals, teaching, playing, cleaning, breaking up fights, wiping bums, setting up crafts, cleaning, and - listening.    Even with all the time I allow for them, the time I carve out just isn't enough.  Some kids are more needy than others and want to talk to me all day long - explaining every thought in their head at great length, and some aren't.  They all need the same one on one time.  The point is, I hate feeling rushed - having to stop someone's story because another someone is crying, asking people to get out from under my feet so I can get dinner on the table,  hopelessly shushing everyone because someone was brave/dumb enough to call me.  I hate the feeling of not enough time as much as I love the feeling I get when I sit down with a child and say.... ok baby, talk my ear off. 

All my dates have been in coffee houses.  The kids order steamers - hot milk with a flavour shot that they think is awesome.  We scour the games bucket before we leave and fill my purse with their favourite games.  Checkers, cards, my last date asked me to bring the photo album of when he was a baby so we could look at it.  I know I said no activities, but having a game like tic tac toe can ease the child in to real conversation when needed.  It really is nice to spend time with the little person you are raising.  Our children are NOT accessories.  They don't fill a quota in our lives, they aren't meant to look cute and impress our friends with their hilarious antics (total bonus if that's what happens) - they are people who are learning how to behave, love and be in relationships - so enjoy your time with them while they adore you and are so willing to learn.  

*I've actually had to have a few dates in the house, turning it into a coffee shop.  If it's an older child's turn and my husband's work schedule is too hectic I let that child stay up late after the others are tucked in, and we replicate the coffee house at home*

5. Teaching moments.  The moment to teach someone how to behave is not when they are in trouble for behaving poorly - it's from watching you do it properly in everyday life.  Practice love and respect in the home every day, correcting small hiccups as they come along.  The dates top it off, teaching your little ones that you share time (not money and gifts) to show love.  It also builds up their self esteem and their expectations of relationships.  If you want your daughters to respect themselves and have a high standard when making friends or looking for a partner - be that example.  Date your daughter.  Show her that what she has to say is important and worth being listened to.  That she is smart, funny, capable, and worthy of friendship.  Date your sons.  Let them be goofy, and sensitive without the social pressures to be cool and tough.  Show them that real men are strong enough to support those around them with kindness, empathy and selflessness.  

The moustache man loves when I dress up for the date.  Normally I wouldn't wear my Downton Abbey hat out for coffee, but it makes him feel really important when I get dressed up and make an effort for our date.  

In conclusion: Most parents love their kids.  Most parents want their children to grow up to be people they can be proud of - smart, compassionate, functioning adults.  Whether or not you date your children, find the time to cultivate the good qualities you want to see in them.  Despite unprecedented access to information, entertainment and freedom - our young people still need us, desperately.  Make human connection the bulk of their lives, and let the other stuff be that - other stuff, not the focus. 

The best things in life...

The best things in life...

Aren't free

I know the saying, everyone does: The best things in life are free.  I don't live in a world where money is my currency, and neither do you (they just trick you into thinking that).  Time is my currency.  It's yours too.  

My kids don't want money from me (well, yes they do) they want my time.  My eye contact time, not "uh-huh honey, that's nice" while glaring at a screen of some kind.  My husband only ever wants time from me - just to sit for a minute and chat, to put down the dishes for a few seconds and get in a good hug.  We don't exchange gifts (ever) but we give each other our undivided attention and time as a gift.  My friends and family want time.  Time to sit and eat a meal, time to play a game of Scrabble or Just Dance.  Time time time - you get the point.  

The best things in life are fought for - blood sweat and tears.  Family, true friendship and love cost us all dearly and without them life is nothing.  

Take Thanksgiving and this beautiful Fall season to invest time in the people you love.  Try not to spend any money (yes, I bought apples at this orchard) and really give your time.  Don't bring your cell phone - please just don't - or turn it off for Pete's sake.  Take a walk in the city or on a beautiful trail.  Make a thermos full of hot apple cider and surprise your kids with a story time on a blanket somewhere.  Visit your parents and don't ask them for anything - maybe bring some baked goods and get them to make you a pot of tea.  While remembering what you are grateful 

for this Thanksgiving, show the people you are thankful for that you love them - 

with your TIME!