Bedfellows: ownership & generosity

I'm not ignoring my fighting girls in the next room. I can hear every word they're saying. I'm letting them work it out.

1: "Get off my BED!!!"

3: "Why are you screaming at me? Why is it such a big deal?!"

1 "I have to scream at you because when I ask you to get off, you don't get off unless I scream at you!"

1,2,3: Variety of yelling, screaming and high pitched harumphing.

Maybe I am ignoring them. I'd better see if I can model some problem solving skills for my beloved daughters.

Me: Do we live in a big house or a small house?

1,2,3: A small house.

Me: Do you have lots of private things and spaces or actually just one private space in the whole apartment?

1,2,3: Just one private space

Me: And what is that private space?

1,2,3: My bed

Me: That's right. Your bed is your one private space that is just for you. You do not have to share it. However, because your bed is your one private space it also gives you an opportunity to be generous. You can extend an invitation to a friend or a sibling to sit or play on your bed and that should be recognized as an act of generosity. In this house, you are not expected to agree all the time. You ARE expected to be kind and respectful to each other. If someone says you cannot go on their bed, I will back them up on that.
Below: This is how we fit five kids into one bedroom (crib left of door)


I'm actually happy that I get to share my bed with someone I love, but it does make me wonder, what is my private space? I share a desk, a computer, a dresser, a closet and a cell phone. Honestly, there is usually somebody reading over my shoulder. My only privacy is in my thoughts. Generally, I want to share those as well. Maybe since my thoughts are the only things that are truly mine, sharing them is the only way I can be generous. So like Dogberry of Much Ado About Nothing, I bestow all my tediousness on you. ;)

Glutenny

I've been baking wheat bread for 15 years. Lately, I've been grinding my own hard red winter wheat to make it. Last week I inherited eight boxes of gluten from a sometime vegetarian fleeing the city for less crowded, less competitive and (let's face it) less filthy streets. I am astonished at the difference. I thought I had enough gluten because every batch of bread I make mixes for eight minutes on medium creating this vital ingredient in the process. Gluten composes about 80% of the protein contained in wheat seed. More important to eaters, it gives kneaded dough its elasticity, allows leavening and contributes chewiness to baked products. The above package claims that additional gluten will also increase the shelf life of my home made bread.

Protien
Elasticity
Leavening
Chewiness
Increased shelf life
Yes!

I didn't really think that a few teaspoons of tan powder would make much of a difference with my heavy home ground wheat. I'm happy to be wrong. This bread is everything I want it to be. Thick, soft and chewy, but not too dense. It has a nice crumb, cuts beautifully and is perfect for sandwiches. I can't test the shelf life claim because the family is noshing it into oblivion. Is this cheating?

This sudden jump in bread quality got me thinking about life. I believe in the law of the harvest. I believe in sowing what I reap and small and simple things bringing great things to pass. I'm creating my own little bit of gluten in the process. But sometimes I learn from another's vast experience. Sometimes I can blend their additional knowledge into my life and experience an astonishing jump in personal growth over a short time. It makes me more substantive (protien), flexible (elasticity), confident (leavening) and likable (chewiness). It may not extend my expiration date, but it will definitely increase my quality of life and get me off the shelf more often.

Right now, I'm ingesting 20+ years worth of distilled experience in home and family organizing from Teri Ebert.

Have you had leaps in your progression?

Who inspires you?

Hallelujah! (Potty Training)

"They'll let you know when they're ready." So said my pediatrician and he's been right about the first three kids. I created a lot of relationship tension and wasted a lot of time, treats and cleaning supplies the first time around. That was with a compliant willing child who wanted to please me by potty training. A few weeks after I stopped pressuring my second child with "just checking" trips to the bathroom and potty bribes, she told me that she needed to use the potty. She never used another diaper after that, day or night. I think she just wanted it to be her idea. She's that kind of kid. I didn't even bother with my third child. I just waited until I started finding dry diapers discarded next to the potty and asked if she wanted undies.

Enter Torpedo. He's three and three quarters years old. Once he realized he had control over those bowels, he just shut them off. It gets to the point where all his energy is spent on clenching. It's been traumatic for everyone. I won't detail the times and ways that I've had to "help" him. Suffice it to say that every time we're in the bathroom together he says, "No gloves. No gloves."

Last week, our neighbor's loaned us three potty training DVDs. Torpedo took these movies to heart. He quotes scenes throughout the day: "Is that a potty chair? [buzzer sound] No! That's a bicycle." He is constantly asking me if I'm a big kid and if I want to go to the potty. When I turn the tables on him he tells me that he likes babies. He likes baby toys and he does not want to use the potty or wear underwear. Were these DVDs creating a reverse psychology situation? I've been doing everything I can think of to help him succeed on his own including prayer, setting him on the potty when I see the signs, a high veggie diet and slipping Miralax or mineral oil into his sippy cup. I confess, I even let him play games on my iPhone while he's sitting there. Sometimes these things take awhile.

Well, it's working. Today he put his hands on his stomach and said, "I need to go to the potty." Hallelujah! I sent a grateful little heart-prayer up as I "flew" him to the bathroom. Minutes later he came out and started playing (sans pants) in the living room. I asked him if he "went." He didn't make a big deal about it, but sure enough... Then he asked for some race car undies. Zoom! Zoom!