What a Difference a Midwife Makes

During our first pregnancy we were under the care of an obstetrician.  He was hand-selected by me because he had the highest rate of vaginal delivery of any OB in the community where we were living at the time.  He even delivered twins vaginally, which many physicians will not do.  Not coincidentally, he also had the lowest rate of interventions.  In case of drastic situations, he was also a whiz at forceps deliveries and had managed to extract babies that other OBs had already planned for c-section.  His general m.o. was to say, “Hey, while you’re setting up, let me just give it a shot…just in case.”  An OB who would try to avoid other doctors’ patients going to surgery sounded like my kind of doctor.  And certainly he was supportive of our decision to sign up for a Bradley class, didn’t make a huge fuss but just raised his eyebrows when I refused vaginal exams during the third trimester, and generally was more open to our eccentricities than I’d come to expect from most obstetricians.

But the fact remained that he saw pregnancy as a medical issue.  Each appointment was a review of urine test results, weight, blood pressure, and a checklist of standardized questions to screen for problems that are asked at all prenatal appointments, regardless of the setting or type of provider.  And that was it.  I asked if I could keep bicycling and was told no but that I needed to walk for exercise and not gain too much weight.  And the doctor was on to the next patient.  Many times if I asked a question, I received a non-answer and was rushed along.

Toward the end of pregnancy, I came for my usual appointment and was told by the medical assistant to undress for my vaginal exam.  I very politely said that I wasn’t going to have one.  ”But you have to!” she exclaimed in surprise.  I explained that checking my cervix four weeks before I’m due with my first baby doesn’t make any sense.  Either my cervix is closed or its starting to soften but either way, the baby will come when it comes and probably not for another 4-5 weeks.  ”Well, no one has ever refused a vaginal exam,” she said.  ”I am,” I replied with a bright smile.  The doctor seemed a little confused at my refusal but admitted that the exam would not actually affect my medical care one way or the other so was really not necessary.

What a difference seeing my midwives!  At each appointment, I almost don’t even notice the medical part.  I weigh myself as soon as I check in, I don’t have to leave a urine sample every time, and the checklist of screening questions is such a minor part of the appointment that it just slips in quietly between talking about my physical comforts and discomforts and my emotional adjustment.  The midwives talk with Charlie about how the baby is developing and show him pictures.  They ask Tim how he’s doing with things and gear nutrition advice towards him since he does the cooking.  The appointments are full of sympathy for how I am changing as an individual, how I’m bonding with the new baby, and how we’re changing or coping as a family as well as advice on everything from nutrition to exercise to getting enough rest and good self care.  I come away from each appointment more convinced that my body was made to do this.

When I ask a question, I get a real answer.  They are very open about the statistics of how many women are transferred to OBs and why.  They said that of course I could bicycle, that women in Europe bicycle everywhere; heavens, I can bike to the birth center when I’m in labor if I want to…just to avoid ice and gravel so I don’t fall.

At my first appointment (the one to get my IUD pulled, which was the beginning of this second pregnancy), I threw everything at the midwife to see the reaction.  Co-sleeping.  Tandem nursing.  HypnoBabies (the childbirth classes we’re trying this go-around).  Having Charlie attend the birth.  Nothing phased her.  When I called back 4 weeks later to schedule my first prenatal visit, the receptionist remembered me and our previous conversation.

I’ve now joined the social group for women who received their care through the birth center.  I’ve been delighted to discover the message board replete with discussions of baby-led weaning (which we did and technically are still doing with Charlie), co-sleeping questions and tips, offers of used baby slings and diaper covers.

I’m eager to have a beautiful birth with our midwives and enjoy ongoing care with them.  I’ve written before about how much safer midwife care apparently is…but from my perspective the most noticeable part is that it just feels better!

Canned Ham: Beginning

Tim is just finishing up cleaning out his garage in preparation for beginning the work on our canned ham trailer.  We’re pretty sure its a mid 1950s Shasta.  If anyone reading this can help with identification, we would really appreciate it.  The title says 1970, which we know for sure its not.  We’re planning on a white and yellow paint job and naming it Daisy.  We’ll see if we feel the same after we’ve really gotten to know it.  Here’s how we’re starting:

Our New Trailer Side View

Rear view:

Door Side on the Day we brought it home:

Door Side (which is against house currently and unphotographable)

Some interior photos.  Kitchen:

Kitchenette with Sink, Ice box, Stove with Oven

Stove:

Four Burners and an Oven Same Size as the One in Our House

Still with original electric light fixture:

Amazing It Survived

The gas shade is missing:

It Originally Had Both Electric and Gas Lights

Original cabinet latches:

You Squeeze Top and Bottom to Make Work

A view of some of the work to be done:

Yes, That's Snow Showing Through the Large Gap Between Wall and Floor

Doors (the screen door is meant to be mounted on the inside and has a nifty little slidy thing so you can reach through to the exterior door):

Door and Wardrobe with Screen Door Leaning on Wall to the Left

Here’s the screen:

Screen Door

Where the dinette (that folds down into approximately a twin size bed) is supposed to be:

Front End (Red Fabric Covers Window)

What’s left of the approximately full size bed at the rear:

Bed At Rear

Better view of the face of the bed (drawer is in rough shape but present):

Door is on Left Before Wardrobe, Kitchen on Right, Bed Straight Ahead

Other random pieces:

Roof Vent

Original Drawer Pull, Nice and Funky

Hood Over Stove

Inside of Icebox Could Use Some Work

I’m really excited about this project.  Compared to other projects we’ve tackled already, this one is quite small and therefore less expensive and faster.  We also don’t have to work around existing structure because we are dismantling the whole thing back down to the flat trailer and reassembling with as much of the original material as possible (the commonly necessary fix for rotting vintage trailers).  I’m foreseeing a lot of evenings spent working from home while sitting out in the garage watching Tim take apart and rebuild our new toy!

Toys with Parts and the 100 Thing Challenge

Sometimes when Tim and I are enjoying a “hot housekeeping date” sorting out Charlie’s toys after he’s asleep, we think about getting rid of all of his toys with parts.  As we separate out wooden train track from tiny frying pan and whisk from toy animals from silk scarves, we fantasize about things like Leapfrog and Baby Einstein.  Yes, I know they aren’t actually educational and that blocks and puzzles increase the chances that Charlie will do well enough on his ACTs to get into a good school.  Yes, I know that painting and playdough and picture books and his own little broom are all good for his development.  But a couple hours of passive entertainment creates infinitely less mess to pick up.

Building a Zoo for His Animals

We’ve come up with some solutions, all the typical things…we don’t get out one toy until we put away another, certain things (like puzzles and rhythm band instruments) are kept out of reach and only used under close supervision, we pick up as a family and make it fun so Charlie is getting better at cheerfully cleaning up after himself.

But it really comes down to an issue of how we feel about stuff.  I have to admit, I’m really enamored with concepts like the 100 Thing Challenge.  We’re constantly working to thin our stuff.  Living in a small house helps…the competition weeds out the less worthy items.  Our general rule is “two of three: use it, like it, love it.”  So a pan we use almost every day and we like using makes the cut.  If we had a pan we used regularly but hated, that pan would have to go.  Something old and beautiful (ie that we like) that we never use and have no feelings for doesn’t make the cut.  But something old and beautiful that we never use but love (ie that belonged to Grandma) can make the cut, though we’ve also been very careful about only allowing our family to give us those items we truly love…merely having belonged to someone we love doesn’t mean the item means a lot to us.  I used to have a teapot that I was told looked just like one my great-grandma had.  I don’t recall ever seeing the original and I never used mine because the glaze was cracking and I was concerned about what this always-pregnant-or-breastfeeding mama might ingest and I only sort of liked it–so we released it to find another home where it would be appreciated.

At one point, Tim and I talked about actually doing the 100 Thing Challenge.  We are against materialism and for simplicity, so it seemed like a good fit.  But then we started looking at what we actually own.  Just our canning supplies (jars mostly but also large pots, pressure cooker, jar lifter, wide mouth funnel) account for several hundred items.  While we could certainly thin our regular kitchen supplies, I doubt we could get those under 100 either.  Two loaf pans, a wooden spoon and a large bowl are the minimum supplies for baking a batch of whole wheat sandwich bread…but it sure makes it easier to keep up having a Kitchenaid mixer, bowl, and dough hook.  We cook all our meals at home, but we could probably manage with two knives, two or three pots, and a pan.  Oh wait, a colander is pretty darn useful.  And a steamer basket.  And then there was my sister’s birthday cake.  I know…birthday cake isn’t really a necessity…but when your sister asks for the same birthday cake Grandma always used to make, well, there are two cake pans, two cooling racks, and a cake decorating set on top of the mixing bowl.  This is really best beaten with a hand mixer, as are meringues and jellyrolls…so there’s a second mixer and a set of beaters.  And we’re just talking kitchen here.

I’ve knit hats for the whole family…repeatedly…and am trying to keep Tim and Charlie in socks so have several different sets of knitting needles to accommodate different yarns and head or foot sizes.  And then there is the tapestry needle for weaving in the ends and the scissors for cutting my yarn.  I guess I could use one of the kitchen knives if I had to.

And then there’s gardening.  We don’t go for all the fancy equipment, but nothing beats a good pair of gardening gloves and a few faithful hand tools, not to mention a wheelbarrow and a good shovel.  Then there’s all the work we do on the house.  Sure, some of it is purely cosmetic, but even painting the outside is structurally important to prevent rot.  Tim has a couple five gallon buckets of plumbing tools, a couple toolboxes of electrical necessities, a shoebox of paintbrushes and other painting supplies, etc.

The Garden Early Last Spring

I’m starting to realize that people who manage to live on almost nothing are usually outsourcing their stuff.  If someone else grows your food, prepares and preserves it, that eliminates a lot of gardening and kitchen stuff.  If you don’t own a sewing kit, you can either toss your clothes when they burst a seam or lose a button or hire someone else to make repairs.  Listen to music on your ipod and don’t make any yourself or you may end up with instruments, music books, and the paraphernalia that goes with them.  Hire someone else to plays sports for you and you have no need for tennis rackets, running shoes, bicycles, or the tools to keep your gear in repair.  As soon as you start moving from a passive to active existence, no matter how much you may want to avoid the accumulation of things, the stuff moves in.  We’ve noticed that we don’t have much room for the sort of “stuff” most people are talking about when they talk about their stuff because so much of our space is taken up by the stuff we need for the stuff we do…and it’s a lot of stuff.  People who don’t take care of these things for themselves are still living on as much or more stuff but they don’t have it in their homes, so it is in some ways invisible.  However, their lack of stuff can carry a higher ecological cost while separating them from their consumerism enough to make it somewhat invisible.

I’ve also realized that many ecologically responsible decisions involve having more stuff.  Cloth diapering?  We have dozens of diapers in various sizes, covers, liners, wipes.  Sure, the number of cloth diapers we own pales in comparison to the 5000 disposables we’d use per child (and we’re planning on reusing these same diapers for as many children as they hold up for and then composting them to squeeze the last bit of life out)…but it’s still more stuff we have around.  Because we recycle and compost most of our waste, we have not one but three receptacles in the kitchen–trash, recycling, and compost.  We also have a compost bin in the backyard.  My sister is about to start bringing her compost over, so now she’s also increasing the number of containers she must buy and own in order to reduce her waste.

It seems to me that the easiest way to limit yourself to 100 things is to have an ebook for reading, an iPod for listening, a television for viewing, a computer for doing, and hire someone else for everything else.  While we do have a computer, and were given an ebook for Christmas that we are just starting to play with, and I even have a blog in place of a diary now, I just can’t bring myself to give up getting my fingers into life.  I want to do it myself, keep it as close to home as I can, and outsource as little as possible.

Ultimately, though it would seem that the 100 Thing Challenge Crowd and the Crunchy, Urban Homesteading, DIY Crowd would have a lot in common, I suspect that we would have more in common concerning what we are against (materialism, consumerism, blind belief in this thing called an economy) than what we are for.

So for the time being, I’ve given up on the 100 Thing Challenge.  We still work to limit our possessions, but we go by the spirit rather than the number of things.

Interestingly, having just told Tim about this entry, he recommended a piece on NPR he heard today about our relationship with stuff.  It’s ever-so-slightly creepy that the E.M. Forster story written over 100 years ago predicted what so many of us spend our evenings doing now: staring at a blue glowing screen, talking to people on the other side of the world and pushing buttons to order what we need and connect with friends.  Yipes!  Here it is: Our Media, Ourselves: Are We Headed for a Matrix?

 

A Few Thoughts on Hypnosis

Because of how well it’s working for our breastfeeding woes and our realization that hypnosis is actually present in many facets of our lives, Tim and I have had some interesting conversations about the subject.

I’ve often thought that if something is present throughout many cultures and belief systems, it isn’t true for that particular “tradition” but is simply true about the world.  For instance, most cultures have a “flood myth”.  Could this perhaps indicate that, just maybe, a flood actually happened?  In the same way, a type of hypnosis is found in many traditions.  My experience of being in such a deep state of relaxation to be almost separate from my body is not unique to Hypnobabies.

Though many religious people might find this experience to be “evil,” I find it to be both natural and enlightening.  We know we are both spirit and flesh, but how often are we able to relax that flesh to such an extent that we somewhat forget about our body?  Usually it’s only while watching television, driving a car, sleeping, or doing any other of those daily hypnotic activities.

I think the key to whether an activity is “good” or “evil” is how it’s used.  If I am using hypnosis to heal old wounds, nurse my little guy, or birth my baby, I don’t see how that can be evil.  If I was using hypnosis to control or manipulate someone to my own ends, that would be evil.  Because when in a state of hypnosis I choose to open myself to thoughts and suggestions with the goal of a peaceful, easy birth, I feel that it is important to only let myself reach that state in a safe place–at home with Tim and Charlie, at the birth center when our birthing day comes.  Tim is very careful to only say helpful and positive things in the period after a practice session when I’m particularly susceptible.

Interestingly, as we’ve worked to eliminate pregnancy and childbirth-related negativity all the time and all negativity in the period immediate after a Hypnobabies practice session, we’ve come to realize that really, when you get down to it, all negativity can be destructive and is best avoided.  That’s not to say that bad things don’t ever happen or we have to pretend that all is sweetness and light all the time.  Rather, when bad things do happen, we can choose to react with pissiness, irritability, negativity, and complaining or we can choose to react with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control.  When we find out an autopay didn’t autopay–again–and screwed up our finances–again, we can choose to indulge in a ten minute rant of negativity or to approach the situation with patience and self control.  When another member of the household says something that rubs us the wrong way, we have the choice to respond with general and prolonged pissiness or with love and gentleness.  When our child is sick and we are functioning on two hours of sleep, we can bicker and complain or we can find joy in our parenting and show kindness and faithfulness toward each other and our suffering offspring.

I’m interested to see how our daily Hypnobabies practice and attitudes we are specifically learning for Eleanor’s birth spread into other areas of our lives.  I think we’re going to find it a positive influence in many realms.

I’m Learning Self-Hypnosis…No Really

I would have never thought of myself as the sort of person who “believed” in hypnosis.  Sure, they said something about it in medical school, something about it being used for people who were allergic to all anesthesia.  And there was that woman who said she was going to use it for childbirth, but I never heard about how it went.  And I was pretty sure it made sense when I heard about how it was used to help a woman sing again who hadn’t been able to sing since a loved one died and she’d sung at that person’s funeral.  After all, it was just some sort of hang up she had to get over.

And of course, I’d used some of the techniques myself…but that didn’t really count.  I can bring down my blood pressure about ten points by visualizing my knitting: needle in, yarn around, needle through.  I coped with bad emotional experiences while I was a child by learning to relax my body and make “imagines” in which I created a whole other world in my head.  But again, I didn’t really consider this hypnosis.  Perhaps because hypnosis has gotten a pretty bad wrap over the years from everyone from scientists to Christians, I figured that what I was doing couldn’t possibly be that sort of thing.

Right after Charlie was born, some of my childhood issues came up again to such an extent that it made it almost impossible for me to cope with typical mothering situations including strapping Charlie into a car seat or caring for him when he woke up crying at night.  Since totally flipping out was not a good long term solution, I saw a counselor.  I happened upon a counselor who does IFS (Internal Family Systems), an alternative type of counseling that suited me perfectly.  Just as we might say, “Part of me wants that big piece of chocolate cake and part of me knows that it’s not good for me,” IFS helped me to separate out the part of me that knows that Charlie is perfectly safe when he wakes up at night crying and that I am an adult who is able to care for him adequately from the part of me that feels like a helpless toddler who is unable to protect herself or the baby.  Through a fairly simple process, one helps that hurting part realize that one has grown up and can keep the whole group of parts safe now.  The way this is done is by imagining or sensing those different parts inside oneself and addressing each one individually.  Again, an awful lot like hypnosis.  (If you look up IFS online, you’re going to get a lot of stuff about relationships, which I honestly have no idea how it relates.  My counselor recommended Self-Therapy by Jay Earley, which is definitely a good description of the process.  It does leave out some of the finer points, which are discussed in Internal Family Systems Therapy by Richard Schwartz, the guy who invented it so to speak.)

Then it came time to discuss childbirth classes for this pregnancy.  We did Bradley Method classes for Charlie’s birth.  Certainly we got what we were promised…a normal vaginal delivery with no interventions or medications.  And in retrospect, I found it extremely empowering to have made it through.  However, in the moment, I was tense, terrified, and felt completely unprepared to cope with what was happening.  I clung desperately to Tim and he was as overwhelmed by it all as I was.  I am incredibly grateful to Tim for being the buoy to which I clung while wracked by waves of pain I couldn’t control.  While I would still consider it a “good birth” overall, the major feeling I get when I think of those hours before Charlie was born is desperate, blind terror.  Not what I was hoping for this second time around, especially as Charlie wants to be there when Eleanor is born.  Oh…did I forget to mention?  We’ve got a little girl in there.  Eleanor Rose.

In my research about different childbirth methods, I started reading more about hypnobirthing, which led to Hypnobabies.  Hypnobabies teaches medical hypnosis together with education about everything from nutrition and exercise to various procedures that might be offered and how to decide whether or not to accept them.  The method is specifically designed to create not just a non-drugged delivery, but a peaceful, easy delivery.

Peaceful is not what most people in our culture think of when we hear the word “childbirth” but in fact, it is not the dramatic emergency that is portrayed on television.  Unfortunately, our culture has programmed us to believe that childbirth is scary, painful, dangerous, and noisy.  I’m sure I’m not the only woman whose belly seems to bring out every horrible birth story whether at work, at social gatherings, or in line at the grocery store.  And the television shows geared toward pregnant women (think Baby Story…but don’t ever, ever, ever watch it!), reinforce all the most negative stereotypes possible.  If we expect it to be a horrible experience, it probably will be.

In Hypnobabies, expectant couples work to de-program themselves from those negative beliefs while simultaneously learning a system of self-hypnosis that allows for the mother’s complete relaxation despite any discomfort she may be experiencing.  In the de-programming, we actively shield ourselves from all the terrible television portrayals, scary articles, and horrific birth stories.  Instead, we work to fill our minds with stories of the many positive births and with positive self-talk.  In the self-hypnosis portion, we use a combination of CDs of hypnosis scripts and Tim reading aloud other hypnosis scripts to help me learn to completely relax my body and mind while allowing myself to be completely open to the learning I am doing.  It’s an interesting experience and hard to describe.  The best I can do is to say that it feels like my body is completely separated from me and that I am in complete control of both, in a way that I have never been before.  I’m not blown hither and yon by a worry or a tight muscle.  Rather, I feel completely relaxed and alert.

After a rousing success during a blood draw, Tim suggested I start using these techniques while nursing Charlie, which has become a fairly difficult and negative experience in the last few weeks.  I was a little nervous to test-drive these new skills, so asked about it at our first live class session on Sunday (I’d previously done some work with the CD the instructor mailed out ahead of time).  The instructor was enthusiastic about practicing in as many situations as possible because the more the skills are used, the stronger they will be.  With that encouragement, I tried some of the techniques last night for our bedtime nursey.  I still needed Tim’s help to remain calm; however, I actually remained calm!  It wasn’t just a matter of tolerating the torture, I actually didn’t mind it.  This was exciting, but didn’t get me to where I wanted to be, which was to be able to nurse Charlie without Tim’s help…or ideally, to actually enjoy it again as I did a month or so ago.

Then Charlie woke me up at about 1 am, kicking and whimpering.  Since Tim and I go to bed a little after 11 most nights, I was at that state of early sleep-induced confusion in which I couldn’t quite figure out what was going on.  After about an hour, I realized that Charlie was a toasty little radiator and might actually have something seriously wrong with him.  I sent Tim for the thermometer and started quizzing Charlie on his symptoms.  His tummy hurt.  I mooshed around on it in fear of appendicitis (given the fever) but nothing hurt when I pushed on it.  I asked him to point where it hurt–he pointed to his bladder.  The thermometer read 102.8.  So we knew we had another urinary tract infection on our hands.  This is the one and only time I use my MD to get a prescription for my own family.  Charlie’s UTIs always start dramatically with a high fever and very sick child in the middle of the night.  To expedite his recovery (which takes about 20 hours before we have only a moderately sick child), I have on all three occasions now called in antibiotics and collected a urine sample at home while Tim ran to the nearest 24 hour pharmacy that has Charlie’s dose in stock.

Like any normal breastfeeding child who is ill, the only thing Charlie wanted to do all day today besides be carried back and forth in the living room by me, was to nurse.  Since we’ve got down to nursing about six out of seven nights and a few nap times a week, this was a huge increase….And gave me ample practice at self-hypnosis.  I was completely amazed at the results.  Each time before we nursed, I’d get us both settled, expose my breast, then cover it with my hand for a moment saying, “Just a second, let me get ready.” Charlie was surprisingly patient, curled up in a pitiful heap in my lap with his mouth wide open like a little bird’s, waiting for his comfort.

The first thing taught in Hypnobabies is creating a “special place” to go to for complete relaxation.  I’m guessing that some people create a more realistic special place, but mine is just right for me and is very impressionistic–pink, swirly, nebulous–a slightly warm and slightly cool breeze–seeing the air swirl in and out of me when I breath–breathing in relaxation, breathing out peace.  Before latching on, I “go” to my special place with Charlie and imagine the pink swirls swooping around inside me.  Sometimes while nursing, I’ll also use another of the techniques, imagining relaxation as a light on my head that sends waves of relaxation through my body.  The newest technique I’m working on is a “light switch” with which I can instantly turn “off” my body and go into a state of complete relaxation.  The ultimate goal is to be able to turn the switch to a middle position in which I am in a state of complete hypnosis but able to move around, change position, etc.  I think this will be awesome for breastfeeding as well if we continue to have problems.

Anyhow, once I’ve got a good sense of my special place, I go ahead and let Charlie latch on. I very quickly reached the point that I feel a quick pinch when he first latches but for the rest of the nursing session it’s completely comfortable and peaceful.  Did I mention this was totally amazing?  Yesterday I would have described nursing as “an absolute torture during which I fought an almost overwhelming desire to rip this leech off my breast and fling it across the room” and today, literally overnight, I find it comfortable and peaceful.  By this evening, I was able to read aloud to Tim and my sister working in the kitchen while nursing and remaining in a state of calm relaxation.

I think Tim was even more surprised than I.  Tonight when we went downstairs for Charlie’s bedtime routine, Tim asked if I had the massage cream (for the usual foot massage that keeps me from losing it).  ”No,” I replied.  ”I don’t think I need that anymore.”  And sure enough, Tim knelt beside the bed and watched while I nursed Charlie, unlatched the little lamb when he was just dozing off, and waited until he was completely asleep before going upstairs.

So, no matter whether it makes sense or not, I’m convinced.  Hypnosis works.  I’m eager to experience our easy, peaceful birth in a few months.

Making Classical Music Personal

Children notoriously want to hear the same book over and over.  We have been reading Margaret Wise Brown’s Friendly Book every night for weeks now, sometimes multiple times a day.  Charlie can now recite many lines.  His favorite is from the section on stars: “I like stars.  Far stars, Quiet stars, Bright Stars, Light stars.  I like stars.  A star that is shooting across the dark sky.  A star that is shining right straight in your eye.  I like stars.”  This familiarity is a real pleasure to a child for whom so many other things are new.  Here is something he knows and knows well.  Here is something he can be an expert in.  Here is something he can love because it is a part of him.

The same thing can happen with music.  My mom had the classical music station playing continuously when I was growing up.  For many years, it was just background noise.  Then one day my mom commented on a piece that was playing and mentioned that it was written by Aaron Copland and how much she enjoyed his music.  I asked her how she knew what it was.  She replied, “Oh, I don’t know, I guess you just hear a particular composer enough and you can tell.”  This is one of those crystal clear childhood memories for me that comes complete with where I was sitting, the temperature, and my mom’s haircut.  It changed the way I saw music.  There was some order to this.  I could really know the music and in a way have the music for my own.

I started listening more carefully and if something caught my fancy, I’d ask my mom what it was and try to learn to pick it out.  My taste was toward the highly interesting, exciting, and emotive so the first pieces I learned were the Candide Overture by Leonard Bernstein (you must watch this video, it’s a hoot watching him conduct!), Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana, Prokofiev’s Lieutenant Kije Suite, and Aquarium from Saint-Saen’s Carnival of the Animals.  I’d imagine stories or scenes to go along with the music and came to love these pieces because I liked them and then I knew them.  I didn’t realize until I was in high school that the Candide Overture came from an entire operetta.  The first time I realized that music came from entire works (other than Lieutenant Kije) was when I walked in on my mom watching a video of The Barber of Seville, an opera buffa by Rossini.  It was Figaro’s opening scene singing the Largo al Factotum (do watch this video as well, Dmitri Hvorostovsky is so obviously enjoying himself).  I recognized the music…but it didn’t stop, it kept going.  It was part of an entire story.  This opened a whole new world of music to me.  If I liked something, there might be more to go with it.  There might be a whole symphony or opera to enjoy.

My last crystal clear, eye opening music memory was from middle school.  The school jazz band was performing in the cafeteria and I was ignoring them, braiding friendship bracelets with my friends, when suddenly I heard this: [click link].  The world stopped for me.  What was that song?  Who wrote it?  I’d never really listened to jazz or big band before and was blown away.  This music was so perky and fun.  I was painfully shy at that age, but I sought out the director and asked him.  I had to know.  I took my allowance and bought a tape of Glenn Miller songs and listened to it until I had it memorized.

After years of listening to classical music (and a fair amount of big band as well!), I can now identify many composers and pieces, but the pieces that I know, that I’ve read more about, or that have been linked to something in my life, or that I learned early, are still my favorites.  I still get almost zen-like when “Aquarium” comes on the radio and feel that thrill when “In the Mood” in playing in an elevator.  I’d like to allow our kids the opportunity to become familiar with classical music (and some jazz and big band…) in the same way they are familiar with books and at as young an age.

Today I came across a website via an interesting blog entry on making classical music interesting to children, a website that I think will help us do that as well as incorporate some good music study into Charlie’s homeschool.  Kickass Classical lists the top 100 and top 200 classical pieces today, classical music that shows up in concerts, commercials, cartoons, and movies.  These are fun, emotive, interesting, and popular pieces that span 300 years and the majority of major composers.  I got a kick out of listening to this video of the top 100 classical pieces in 20 minutes (just snippets of each).  Our plan is to go through our own music collection and create a playlist of the top 200 pieces, learn the key information about them ourselves, and then play them at home on a regular basis.  Our current goal is to get through the full list once a week; we’ll see how that works.  We plan on having it as background music to blocks or art or other activities, but also mention bits about the music once in awhile.  ”This is called Aquarium, it’s supposed to sound like fish.  The composer, Saint-Saen, wrote it while on vacation but was afraid it wouldn’t be taken seriously so he didn’t let it be published until after he died.  There are other parts of the same composition that sound like other animals.  This was always my favorite one, but I like the others too.”

Our Favorite Chicken Salad

Our girls haven’t started laying yet, but they are thinking about it.  Australorps are notoriously amazing layers (averaging over 200 eggs per bird per year during the peak years) so we wanted to start them on a supplement to help them keep up physically with the demands of so much laying.  We currently get our eggs from the small backyard flock of one of my co-workers and have decided to start supplementing our chickens with the other flock’s shells.  Maybe this is a bad idea (for hygiene reasons) but shells don’t compost especially well and we have dozens of blown shells saved for our egg tree, so we were eager to use them in other ways.

Chicken Salad

We had some spinach that was past its prime, so Tim spun the spinach with the shells in our (dying) mini food processor.  It made a beautiful bright green mix that the chickens gobbled right up.  So we now call this “chicken salad” and have made it once or twice since.

One of the Girls Enjoying Her Salad