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Tuesday afternoon, August 23^rd, while outside gardening with my children, we experienced an earthquake. Just typing this makes me feel alternatingly giddy and faltering (pun sort of intended). I only remember ever feeling one other earthquake in my life, and it was a teeny tiny one, as a teenager, and relatively unmemorable – nothing more than a bit of a shimmy. But Tuesday was so much more. And, as exciting as it was – living history! – it left me feeling vulnerable, all the same.

We had been out back, sweeping off the porch after trimming back our tomato plants and putting down some soil on our pumpkin patch, taking advantage of the coolness of the afternoon shade to start preparations for the Fall.  Adam was inside, working from home (what a lucky thing, we’d both said, later). I began to hear our wind chime ringing, which, in and of itself, wasn’t a big deal, and my mind didn’t pay much attention – it was a normal sound for the back porch. Only, in retrospect (moments later, retrospect, that is, as little things began to fall into place as being connected and part of a bigger picture of EARTHQUAKE), I realized that there was no wind. That’s when we started to hear a clicking sound, all around… sort of like hail, only, there was no hail. I was looking around, up, down, trying to determine the source of the sound – it was like a crackling or snapping and it seemed to be coming from everywhere – when my husband came to the back door, shouting: "Did you feel that? Was that an earthquake?"

The force of that word brought the clicking sounds and the ghostly ringing (now loudly jangling) into sharp focus: the clicking was not hail, but rather the house shifting and creaking, along with bits of things falling from the trees (we're backed right up to the woods), the windchime was chiming because the entire building, from which the windchime was hanging, was moving. Just as I took a step towards the back door, I felt a dropping in my stomach, like the sensation of being on a boat in rough waters, or in a car, going too quickly over a dip in the road. I was suddenly dizzy, disoriented, and just then – a good bit scared. We gathered the children and moved quickly inside. Then, as the woman-of-the-21^st century I am, instead of rushing upstairs and out front as my husband and children did, I decided to hop on to Twitter, and tweeted:  

And also: 

The moment my feed refreshed, my suspicions were more than validated. Nearly every other tweet in my stream mentioned an earthquake! It was surreal. From as far south as South Carolina to as far North as Canada, people had felt the earth move! Interestingly, @Twitter had this to say, later in the day (making me feel a bit better for rushing so quickly to my computer):

I grabbed my phone and stepped out front where I was greeted by the sight of the largest number of neighbors I’ve seen since moving here five years ago. Once we determined that yes, we all “did feel that”, and weren’t feeling it any longer, we ventured back inside to turn on the news. Already every local station had reporters on the street in Philly talking to folks who’d been evacuated from their buildings, and the national news stations were reporting from DC. Within minutes we knew the epicenter, and the magnitude of the quake: 5.9, near Mineral, Virginia.

In spite of knowing – both in numbers, and in experience – that the quake was relatively minor, and no one was injured, and that it was over… we stayed glued to the set (and me to my iPhone) for the next half hour or so; answering the kids’ questions, and maybe, in the back of our minds, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It felt eerily reminiscent of 9-11. I did feel a bit dizzy about a half hour or so later, as did the rest of my family. Aftershocks, or, sympathetic vertigo of sorts.

In the grand scheme of things, this earthquake was a brief moment in time. Tuesday afternoon is nearly two days past, and #earthquake is no longer trending. The news of the world has moved on to another event. We weren’t hurt, nothing near us was damaged, and the rest of our day proceeded relatively uneventfully. My children experienced their first earthquake, and I experienced a feeling of helplessness and insignificance and awe, moved as I was by my minisculeness; pushing headlong through time, magnetized to the unstable crust of our great earth, rocketing through our infinite universe. I’m humbled, and grateful that we were able to experience a bit of the wonder of the earth without any injury.  I’m amazed by the technology that allows us all to be so far from one another, yet so connected. I’m sleeping well, but maybe I checked on my children just a few more times than usual Tuesday night.

Did you experience Tuesday’s earthquake? I’d love to hear your experience. (by the way, you can report your experience, here. I did!)

Posted: Aug 25 2011, 01:16 by kelly | Comments (0) |

Filed under: Family Time | Twitter | Earth

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As a child I went to sleep every night “saying my prayers”. The repetition of familiar words every evening was a calming ritual for me; helping me settle into the business of sleeping.

Now, as a (non-religious) adult, I no longer say these prayers at night, though I recognize the benefit of having a routine in the evenings. Sometimes I miss having a “prayer” of sorts to say at night, but somehow, “Now I lay me down to sleep… if I should die before I wake…” doesn’t seem quite appropriate anymore (actually, wondering if the mention of death before sleep was ever really an appropriate prayer for a child), so I resort to tea and television or books or the internet as my sleep aid. 

I’ve come to recognize, over my years as a parent, the need for routine for children at bedtime. Adam or I still lie down with our kids each night, oftimes we talk about our favorite & least favorite parts of the day.  Sometimes we say what we’re thankful for.  Occasionally we’ll sing a song, tell a story, or math quizzes (all at our children’s request - they naturally love math, thank you Maria Montessori!). And while the spontaneity of our before-sleep ministrations has a certain appeal, I also sometimes wish we had a more regular routine. I’m not saying that we need a prayer before bed; yet, I think repetition can be a calming lead-in to relaxation and sleep. And, as my children get older, a prayer of sorts could be a comforting reminder of home, and of childhood.  

So to that end, I went out into the vastness of the internet (even calling on my Twitter friends for help), and located a few non-denominational poems/songs/prayers that could fit the bill for a calming night time routine. Here are a few of my favorites…(I've adapted/edited a bit; sources are below each)

Goodnight Earth

The earth is big and fat and round.

I love the sky, the sea, and the ground.

I love the birds and dogs and sheep,

and all the animals that fall asleep.

I love the flowers and rocks and trees.

I love the earth, and it loves me.

(Source:  http://paganwiccan.about.com/od/pagankidsbedtimeprayers)

We Love the Earth  

For the golden corn and the apple on the tree,
For the golden butter and the honey from the bees,
For the fruits and nuts and berries we gather on our way,
We love the earth and thank it everyday.

(Source:  http://www.beliefnet.com/Prayers/New-Age/Meals/In-Gratitude-To-Mother-Earth.aspx + a special thank you to @resident_hippie for pointing me in the right direction for this one*)

Count Your Joys

Count your joys instead of your woes;

Count your friends instead of your foes.

Count your smiles instead of your tears;

Count your courage instead of your fears.

Count your full years instead of your lean;

Count your kind deeds instead of your mean.

Count your health instead of your wealth;

Love your neighbor as much as yourself.

(Source: http://www.naute.com/inspiration/count.phtml)

The Earth Mother

We are thankful to our Mother, the Earth, for she gives us

all that we need for life.

She supports our feet as we walk about upon her.

It gives us joy that she continues to care for us

as she has from the beginning of time.

To our Mother Earth, we send greetings and thanks.

(Source: http://ancient-pnevma.blogspot.com/2011/05/humble-yet-wise-native-american-prayer.html)

*A thank you to @DianaIBCLC & @BeingMama for their fabulous before-bed ideas too

So what does your bedtime routine look like? Do you have a specific prayer or poem or song you recite every night; or is each bedtime different?

Posted: Jun 06 2011, 18:52 by kelly | Comments (12) |

Filed under: Children | Peaceful Parenting | Sleep | Spirituality | Twitter | Secular Parenting

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I dream of giving birth to a child who will ask, "Mother, what was war?" 

~Eve Merriam

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I slept uneasily the night I learned Bin Laden was killed.

The next morning, on the way to work, and throughout the day, NPR was in “breaking news” mode: all the regular programming had been usurped by this news of Osama’s death. I heard our President’s statement. I heard of Americans cheering and honking horns, saw photographs of celebrations in the streets. Juxtaposed with images of the towers falling and the sounds of people screaming, crying, and dying.

Throughout the day on Twitter and news sites I read words of congratulations, celebration, even joy. I listened to President Obama use words and phrases to describe the mission like, “justice has been done” and “satisfaction” and “true to our values” and “achievement” and “greatness of our country”.

Those very positive words and sentiments and images – from our President, my fellow Americans and fellow humans, from people I follow on Twitter and Facebook – used in the depiction of a hunt and kill operation of one man we believe was in charge of a terrible terrorist act which directly caused the death of thousands of people on September 11^th 2001, leading to more thousands of deaths in Afghanistan and Iraq over the last nearly ten years, and a generally heightened sense of fear and hatred and unease worldwide of people “different than us” and of Americans in general by the rest of the world – such  overt congratulations and joviality in a discussion of war, death, tragedy… while I can understand a sense of relief and maybe even hope, that Bin Laden’s death might somehow signal an end to an era; perhaps usher in a new era of peace… all the celebrations and congratulations seemed the very antithesis of what I was feeling. So, I tweeted:

Here was our media presenting our nation as cheering death; yet death and war and killing continues. The ending of life of one tyrant doesn’t signal the end of terrorism. What kind of message are we sending the world when others see photographs of celebrations on what is essentially the grave site of thousands of people of all races, religions, nationalities? We laud the death of Bin Laden as “justice”, but does it really justify dancing in the streets? Do the parents and spouses and children of those lost on 9-11 and in the wars since feel justice has been done? Their loved ones are still not with them. I fear these images the media is broadcasting serves only to add fuel to an already viciously burning fire of hate and anger in our world.

It all makes me feel so very uneasy.

Over the last few days I’ve been repeatedly transported back to the day that the planes crashed into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and a field in Pennsylvania. Our world has changed so dramatically in the last ten years. Every year as 9-11 approaches, I think about how to discuss it with our children. I can’t help but wonder how an innocent child would process these recent images of partying on the site of the worst terrorist attack on the US in celebration of the death of the apparent mastermind of said attack. It boggles my mind how to explain the dichotomy of feelings between craving peace and understanding for all people, of experiencing relief or hope that the death of Bin Laden might signal some sort of end to war and terrorism expressed in celebration, and of the dark realization that there still is so much anger, hatred, fear, and violence alive in our world. I can’t hardly explain it myself.

I realize I can't choose or change the way others react to situations. But I can and will choose for myself to practice and strive for peace in my home and in my everyday life; and hope that my children will learn peace is a way of life, and a goal worth reaching for. I will choose to carry the light and energy of hope with me, so that my children will take it with them through their lives, touching others with the light of peace.  Because I believe it is only from a place of peace and understanding and empathy that the world will heal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I came across this eloquently written and touching blog post; a mother's reaction to Bin Laden's death & the subsequent celebration: Why I'm Not Celebrating Osama bin Laden's Death by Josette at Haushki.com and wanted to share it with you, as it moved me.

Posted: May 06 2011, 00:05 by kelly | Comments (1) |

Filed under: Children | Peaceful Parenting | Twitter | Peace

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Thanks to Twitter, my attention was brought to a recent story of a single mother who was arrested for leaving her 13 year old home alone for one week, while away on a business trip. According to this article, the mother left cash, credit cards, and prepared meals for the week. Also mentioned in the article was the fact that the mother had been out of work, and she received a business contract which sent her to Taiwan (the implication being, I assume, that accepting the job was a necessity), and that permission was denied by her daughters’ school to bring her along on the trip for the week (Let’s set aside for a moment the craziness of why a parent would ever have to request permission from a school to keep their own child out of said school for a week).

The question was posed on twitter: What’s the problem? [with a 13 year old being left home alone]

Answers ranged from outrage at the police for arresting the mother to outrage at the mother for leaving a child alone. That there are more pressing cases of neglect/abuse that should be pursued. That there’s just no problem whatsoever. That it’s all subjective – some 13 year olds are very responsible, they can babysit other children, and a thirteen year old can even marry in some cultures or areas of the world. 

My personal thoughts ranged from: why did the mother have to leave, did she have time to plan, did the child know what to do in an emergency, did the child have an adult checking in on her periodically  to remembering having responsibility for my younger siblings at that age (certainly not for a week, but definitely for several hours – in pre-cellphone times), and conceding that some children are more developmentally ready for independence earlier than others.

But, above all else, the thought that kept recurring, and bothering me the most was: wondering if the mother had foreknowledge about the trip, and what the nature of the trip was: Was the trip work related? An emergency?

It was suggested that the above questions don’t matter, in the mother's case. Yet, I submit that the why and how may truly make a difference with regards to the mother’s culpability, and ultimately whether or not she made a responsible choice. Had she ample opportunity to plan, it would have been appropriate to coordinate alternate care for the teenager.  Had she not had advanced warning, or, if she had no alternative care available (no relatives, friends, nor babysitter), then, at the very least a “safety plan” should have been readied.  Any less than these two options (particularly if the trip were a “pleasure trip” which could be postponed or cancelled) could substantiate the claim that the child was left in a potentially unsafe situation, could call into question the earnestness of the mother towards her child’s best interest, and thus may go towards validating the reason for her arrest (misdemeanor child endangerment).

But then, what really is safe, what is endangering, and what is right when it comes to children left alone?  Does it matter how old the child is? Where the child is left? Why the leaving was done? For how long? And when do these things matter?

What if the child in question is… a baby?

As an addendum to the conversation, an experience was posed in which a single mother disclosed that she routinely had left her baby alone, sleeping in his crib, for a half hour while she went across the street to do her grocery shopping. The baby was known to sleep soundly for long stretches, wasn’t able to get out of his crib, and the house was within sight of the grocery store. It appears that this particular mother had no assistance or support in terms of childcare, though by her own admission, she did leave her son because she “didn’t want to” bring him with her – it was quicker and easier to do so alone, and she asserted that it was her right as his mother to make the decision based on her best judgment of the situation.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the reaction to the above anecdote was far more vehement. Words such as irresponsible, wrong, neglectful, abusive were used in response.

I admit to jumping to judgment myself in my mind.  I thought of my own possible solutions: bringing the baby along, putting the sleeping baby in the carseat & setting it in the cart while wheeling around the store, putting the baby in a sling, calling a friend to watch the baby for a half hour just in case something were to happen… 

In her own defense, the mother of the baby asked: Where do we draw the line? Don’t we have the RIGHT to raise our children as we see fit? Isn’t parenting just a matter of opinion?

It was these questions which really had me thinking, and is perhaps the crux of my post. DO we have the right to raise our children as we SOLELY see fit – without outside influence or suggestion or oversight? Where IS the line of when a child is truly in danger versus when is he is just in perhaps a less-than optimal situation? When should a parent’s right to make the call on that line be taken away? When does our own personal judgment about what is safe and responsible deserve to be overridden? Just because I might sling my sleeping baby in the grocery store, because leaving him in a separate space while sleeping seems unsafe – does that mean it’s the only RIGHT answer, and that a baby alone – but generally within sight IS unsafe? Or is it just my opinion, based on my experiences & beliefs?

Certainly, each of our personal experiences and situations greatly influence us lead us to make the choices and draw the lines we do. In my life, I am blessed with a wonderful support system. Within that frame of reference, the above situations and decisions seem foreign to me, and the dangers seem surmountable and workaround-able. Yet, what if I were an unemployed single mother without family support, and a job came up which meant the difference between food on the table or not?  Perhaps leaving my self-reliant teenager alone for a week with prepared meals and money might not seem as unsafe or irresponsible as it would otherwise?

Or, regardless of situation, would I find a way to parent to the same safety and comfort standards I hold now (in my secure and supported life situation)?  And what is right?  Is it subjective?

So my questions to you: Is parenting just a matter of opinion? Or, is it more black and white? Maybe children just shouldn’t ever be left alone (and woe to the mother who makes the choice otherwise, regardless of situation)? What do you think?

Posted: Apr 08 2011, 00:14 by kelly | Comments (11) |

Filed under: Children | Parenting | Twitter