Positively yes

I am so unbelievably lucky to have a (mostly) happy, (mostly) easygoing kid. She is funny, she is kind, and every day she's learning more and more.

I alternate reading Zombie Apocalypse Books with books on child development and parenting. (This is my idea of balance, in case you were curious.) I'm reading Positive Discipline: The First Three Years, and Dr. Nelson emphasizes the need to think beyond "no" when it comes to discipline.

Children need boundaries, yes. But they also need to know that there are other possibilities, and that there is are options other than "yes" and "no". At my last job, my entire world was predominantly "Yes" and "Let's try something else," with only the occasional, "no". Our lives are structured (at least in part) by language; hearing "no" all the time creates a limited worldview.

We certainly say our share of "no"s ("No knives!" "No scissors!"), but this way we're not all "no" all the time. The "no" train runs both directions, which is why we're working on our language choices. I like to think of it as an exercise in creative, on-your-toes problem-solving. (My favorite is when Andrew says, "Let's redirect!" to Genevieve.)

I find myself saying things like, "We need to be kind with our hands/feet/teeth," and "We sit on our bottoms in chairs," and "Plates stay on the table." I'm telling Genevieve what she *should* be doing, instead of what she *shouldn't*. 

Despite our drastic reduction in "no"s, a serious downfall with raising Genevieve multilingual is that we have gotten "NO!" in not one, but THREE languages (Mom's favorite being the angry "NEIN! NEIN! NEIN!"). Even so, we get WAY more "yeah"s, which I really and truly believe is because we're able to say it freely, and you know. Mousie see, Mousie do.

"Do you have a wet diaper?"
"Yeah." (Sometimes this isn't true. She's only 17 months old.)

"Would you like some cheese?"
"Yeah."

Hearing "yeah" from a toddler is like a choir of angels, and cuter than a litter of puppies sleeping in a pile. I'll admit to asking her questions just to hear her answer in her tiny little voice.

"I love you. Do you love me?"
"Yeah."

Measure in leaves

I bound off Genevieve's Playful Stripes cardigan while she was napping a few weeks ago.

It's exhilarating finishing the knitting on a sweater. Especially a little sweater. But really, the best part is what comes AFTER the bindoff.

Playful Stripes cardigan by Alana Dakos

Casting on ANOTHER tiny sweater.

Cascade cardigan, by Raya Budrevich.

This sweater practically knit itself. "Just one more leaf!" I would think to myself, knitting frantically during naptime, after she was in bed at night, until my eyes started to cross.

It has to be some seriously good knitting for me to pass up on sleep these days. I can't even begin to tell you how much I enjoyed knitting this sweater. I even enjoyed *blocking* it. (MADNESS!)

The yarn (Cascade Greenland) is delightfully round, robust, and substantial, which makes it an utter joy to knit with. It's the next best thing after working with my own handspun.

While I was working on it, I couldn't help but think of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, which I've had memorized for some time now. "On Sunday, he had one nice green leaf, and he felt much better."

Nice green leaves

Then I went all If You Give a Mouse a Cookie on this sweater. I dug through my button box and found caterpillars, but it wasn't enough. We found oranges, grapes (not entirely accurate, but close enough), strawberries, a butterfly, and apples (with the help of a friend). I also found grosgrain ribbon with The Very Hungry Caterpillar.

I remember reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar to KidBrother Sam, when he was little; how he used to say "cal-i-pittar", how we would count all of the fruit and poke our fingers through the holes. And now we're sharing this with Genevieve, and creating new memories.

It's not quite finished, but I am already so excited about this sweater. It will be something beautiful that reminds her of one of her favorite books.

I guess, sometimes you measure love ... in leaves.

A Literat Mouse

I love to read. I've loved to read as long as I can remember. When I was pregnant, before we bought clothes or furniture for Genevieve, we bought her books.

At the baby shower, she was given a whole pile of board books. I used to think that board books were clumsy and stupid. Now that Genevieve is in full sensory exploration mode all the time, and wants to be involved with the whole process, I think they are completely brilliant.

Reading is FUNdamental!

We have been reading from Sandra Boynton's Greatest Hits (1 and 2, because that's how we roll), and they're a lot of fun. I especially enjoy Genevieve reading them back to me, since she has figured out that we talk at books. (There has been some very enthusiastic babbling.)

I hope she'll love to read, because she comes from a long line of readers.

This reminds me of a dozen years ago, when I was doing a two-week long babysitting stint. The younger daughter, Sarah, was in kindergarten and had been sent home with a sight-word reading assignment. I had done sight-word work before, and I was really looking forward to reading with her.

After a few rough starts, Sarah got frustrated, dramatically flung herself across the couch, and declared, "I'll NEVER learn to read!"

A better person may have done... well, something other than laugh hysterically.

Once I managed to regain some of my composure, I pointed out that it would be IMPOSSIBLE for her NOT to learn to read. After all, both her parents and sisters LOVED to read. Appealing to her six-year-old logic worked, and I'm pleased to say that Sarah is now a high school senior.

A high school senior who loves to read.

Taking initiative

It's Banned Books Week in the United States, and I've been reading blog post after blog post about how pointless, stupid, and oh yeah- how ANTI-AMERICAN it is. You know, if you count the first amendment.

But that's not what this post is about.

When KidBrotherSam and I were growing up, Mom kept tight control over what we watched on television. If it was violent, it was out. If it showed that being disrespectful to parents is okay, it was out. Those are the two main things I remember her censoring for- and I *totally* agree on those choices, but I'm sure there were more. (She also seriously limited how much TV we watched. Something like 3 hours total per week, and only on the weekend.)

Sam and I have always been voracious readers. I don't think it's because we didn't watch TV; I think it's because our parents were readers. What my mother never censored was our reading material. In hindsight, I remember Mom reading some of the stuff we read, and as an adult I can recognize that if Mom thought a book might have objectionable content, she would read it, too. (She never let on that was *why* she was reading our books. And we never questioned it.) Afterward, we would talk about it.

It wasn't a "This isn't appropriate for a child your age" conversation; she was always taking the temperature of how I had interpreted the objectionable content in books, somehow without obviously leading the discussions. I'm sure I missed a lot of the objectionable material, but the stuff that I picked up on, we talked about.

I have to say, I'm seriously impressed with how Mom parented us. When I was 14 years old, I was reading the Anita Blake Vampire Hunter series (before they got all super-smutty), and one of the books centered around snuff films. My Mom, in her SuperMom cape, instead of ripping the book out of my hands and handing me something (perhaps) more age-appropriate, had a calm discussion with me about snuff films.

Stop a moment and think about that last sentence. How many parents could have a calm discussion with their teenage daughter about snuff films? Mom was pretty unflappable as a parent. I don't even remember her making crazy eyes, quickly changing the subject, or having an uncomfortable nervous laugh, ever.

Enough bragging on my mom. The point is, instead of censoring what we read, she made sure that she was informed about what we were reading. She read it herself. She talked to us. (Novel idea, that last one.)

It wasn't until I was in college where Mom actually expressed any negative opinions about *what* I was reading. My senior seminar class was on Virginia Woolf and Toni Morrison. In case you're curious, filicide is where Mom draws the line. Not only did Mom not read any of the Morrison books, she also *did not* want to discuss any of it.

She never said, "Don't read it" or "Don't take the class", she basically said, "I just *can't* talk about this with you." I don't blame her; it was a seriously dark semester. By then, I was a GrownUp (sort of), and my choices in reading material were my own.

Books aren't dangerous. Sure, they put ideas in people's heads. But if you stay ahead of the curve, you can probably keep your kids from inciting a revolution with a few calm conversations.

Probably.

Research is power

A month ago, while we were out running errands, Mom and I stopped at a bookstore in search of parenting books. Specific types of parenting books.

Who am I kidding? My life is an open book. I was looking for books on attachment parenting and co-sleeping. (Suggestions greatly appreciated, for the record.) I was raised by hippies, I married a hippie, and despite my (former) denial, ladies and gentlemen, I AM A HIPPIE. A hippie who likes to do her research. 

When we were talking about adopting a dog, I read about dogs. Dog training, dog breeds, dog health. I even watched the Dog Whisperer, until I realized that it was the owners that needed retraining.

Anyway, we get to a Big and Noisy chain bookstore (which I NEVER shop at, for the record), and while standing in the "parenting" aisle, we were approached by a teenage employee.

Before I continue, please note that I love teenagers, especially employed ones. The ones that are engaged enough to ask "Is there anything I can help you with?" cheerfully are in danger of being attack-hugged. They are unicorns.

When I asked where the attachment parenting and co-sleeping books were (because I could find *zero*), RaisedByYuppies asked what attachment parenting *was*.

Mom, being the cheerful educator, attachment parent, and former lactation counselor, briefly explained the precepts of attachment parenting to RaisedByYuppies. (You would brag, too, if she was your mom.)

RaisedByYuppies then informed us that it's more fashionable to raise babies using the "cry it out" method, and that babies need boundaries. Given that I haven't been my sharpest the last month (or so) I ignored her ignorance, and Mom and I left, me in a huff. I'm still annoyed that I didn't say something smart and caustic to her. I did not ever claim to be a nice person.

Though, I suppose if I had punched her in the face while screaming about how important nurturing is, she may have missed my message. Maybe it's a good thing I restrained myself.

It was then, in the car when I was ranting about uninformed opinions and that as a matter of form, I don't take any advice from a teen working retail, that I realized: Librarians are smart, and libraries are full of books. Books they will cheerfully let me read FOR FREE. Without offering opinions.

This might be obvious to you, but I keep forgetting about the amazing resource that IS the local library system. Also? The Sunnyvale library has a KILLER selection of cookbooks. It's a great way of deciding whether or not you HAVE TO HAVE a specific cookbook in your collection.

We zoomed over to our local library, where I picked over the parenting shelves, hunting for books that appealed to my hippified self. For the cost of ZERO dollars, I checked out a dozen parenting books, which I have slowly been picking my way through. Some have been "eh", one was awful, and one has been GREAT. So great, I think I'm going to write the author a fan letter and give the book its own blog post.

Given that all experiences are opportunities for learning, here are mine:

- Never go to a chain bookstore. Buy locally from Recycle Books, on Amazon, or not at all.
- Libraries are amazing, but I'm so sad that they have DVDs there now. They might as well say "Watch a movie, literacy is doomed anyway."
- My hippiness has its limits. And that limit is Elimination Communication.