The Art of Letting People Do What They Want to Do

Why is it so hard to let people do what they want to do?  I try to come across as all "loosey goosey," (Can you tell I am still reading Anne of Green Gables?) but actually can be quite controlling.  Obviously, my way is the best.

When I am on my evening walks, I can't help but rearrange people's artwork - as I quickly glance at their living room.  (Did you know most people hang their art too high?)  I also shake my head when people center a lamp in their picture window.   Who am I to even have an opinion on what people do in their own house?  Maybe really tall people live in the house with artwork hanging inches from the ceiling.  Maybe people center their lamps because their grandmothers did - which is actually very sweet.  (I painted my bathroom the same color as my grandma's bathroom.  Pink.  If you are a single lady, you can have a pink bathroom.  No clearance necessary.)

My kids are at the age where they need less control and more freedom.  This is hard. It was easier when I could just give them a handful of Cheerios and a sippy cup of watered down apple juice.  I could dose out screen time and know Bob the Builder wouldn't curse and the Bubble Guppies wouldn't swim off to smoke a doobie.  

Now it is difficult to monitor screen time and know what they are watching.  (Especially since kids are given chromebooks to do the majority of their school work on, but that is for another post.)  I used to hate it when people would spurt out, "Little kids - little problems.  Big kids - big problems."  At the time, I seriously didn't get it.  Lulu, my youngest, giving up napping at 13 months was a BIG problem.  Leonard, my oldest, getting kicked out of home day cares because he wouldn't nap was a BIG problem.  (Gus's BIG problem then and now is that he is the middle child.)  

I am starting to understand the big problem is that I have to let things go and let my kids make their own choices, trusting I have pounded some common sense into them.  For example, I have to let Leonard read Stephen King without reading it first myself. (Stephen King has written at least 90 books - who has time for that besides a 7th grader on summer vacation?)  Don't worry.  I am not naive enough to think my biggest parenting problem will be Stephen King.  

Hmmm.  Maybe I should start with baby steps - like letting people hang their art however they want.  No judgment. They can do what they want. 

Prairie Eydie        

More of "What I Know for Sure"

Here is a bonus "What I Know for Sure".  (I told you I was just getting started!)  

You don't have to do everything perfect.  It is more important to just jump in and start.  I am really good at NOT thinking things through, so this is easy for me.  Take my approach to gardening.

This is my 4th year planting raised garden beds.  You'd think I would know what I was doing?  I mean, it has been 4 years.  I am happy to tell you I am still making mistakes and still growing veggies.  Here is a tour of this year's mistakes:

The dominant plant in this bed is the zucchini.  See that scrappy viney plant in the background?  That is a cantaloupe plant.  I am told both plants will go crazy and take over my yard.  It will be hard to mow the grass and they could even infringe on the neighbor's yard.  Havoc will ensue.  EEK!  My plan is to make the neighbor some zucchini muffins and let her pick the cantaloupes on her property.     

Oh man!  This one is painful.  Look at those HUGE tomato plants shading those poor basil plants.  Plus, look at all the wasted space between the basil plants.  I am going to buy some more basil plants today to fill in the lonely gaps.





Even though I made mistakes, I am already harvesting zucchini and I won't have to buy kale until November.  If I had waited until I knew everything about raised bed gardening, I wouldn't already be enjoying fresh, organic veggies.  

Now, get out there and do something!  It doesn't have to be perfect, you just have to start.

Prairie "Know It All" Eydie

The Art of "What I Know for Sure"

I have subscribed to Oprah's magazine, O, since its 2010 inception. For the last 17 years, the final page of the magazine is Oprah waxing poetic on things she knows for sure.  Apparently, long ago Gene Siskel asked Oprah, "What do you know for sure?"  At the time, she didn't have an answer, but now answers the questions every month in her magazine.  I am opinionated and decided to take a stab at it myself.

What I (Prairie Eydie) Know for Sure

Hey people.  Be nice.  Life was hard in the late 1800s.  

Think back to what you LOVED doing when you were 8 and start doing it again.  These activities will bring you joy.  When I was eight years old, I loved to do four things:  type original stories and poems on my mom's manual typewriter (it was pink!), cut up magazines, pick wildflowers in the field behind our house, and reread books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. At age 49, these activities still bring me joy.  Though they are manifested in a different way. Now I blog, create collages, garden, and reread Laura Ingalls books with my daughter. 

What you enjoy doing may not look like what others like to do, and that is okay.  You don't have to pretend to be a canoeing enthusiast if it makes your lower back scream and you think drinking beer on sandbars is boring.  Stay home and decorate cupcakes instead.  I used to pretend to love yoga, but I am done with that charade.  Just thinking about yoga makes my neck hurt. Yeah.  Yeah.  I know how beneficial yoga is, I still don't want to do it.    

Leggings are not pants, no matter how comfortable, buttery soft, and magical they are to wear.  I don't need to expand on this topic because you all know what I am talking about. 

I made this collage last week, as a reminder to "Wear Joy."

Wear what makes you happy every day - i.e. wear your joy.  My mom loves all things cowgirl and has started wearing cowboy boots with everything.  I tried to ignore this fashion faux pas, but had to say something when she started wearing rhinestone spurs with her boots.  "Mom!  You either need to stop this or move to Texas!"   
For those of you who know my mother, it comes as no surprise that she didn't stop wearing her boots and still lives in Wisconsin.  I now understand mom is wearing her joy when she wears her boots. She is also wearing her joy when she wears seven rings at once.  I am lucky to have such an awesome role model.

Yee-haw!  This is just the beginning of things I know for sure. What do you know for sure?

Prairie Eydie
      
   

The Art of Talking to Your Dad - Part 2

The book in question.  It has a lot of pages. 

My dad called me after reading my post, "The Art of Talking to Your Dad - Part 1".  He said the post brought a tear to his eye and then immediately started in, expressing crippling disappointment over my continuing to read Anne of Green Gables over Moscow Nights.  He wanted to understand how I could choose fictitious Anne Shirley over Van Cliburn, who changed the trajectory of the Cold War with his mad piano playing skills.
  

Of course I had to give him a summary of my day's reading.  I read chapter 16 which was titled:  Diana is Invited to Tea with Tragic Results.  Here you go - - -   

Anne had invited over her bosom friend, Diana, for tea. (Remember, this book was published in 1906 and the term BFF hadn't been introduced to our lexicon.) Marilla was going to a meeting of the Aid Society in Carmody, so she said Anne could serve Diana raspberry cordial in addition to fruit cake and raspberry preserves. Super exciting.  Well.  It turns out that Anne served Diana currant wine instead of raspberry cordial.  Diana was greedy and drank three glasses of wine and went home reeling drunk!!!  Oh boy. Now Diana's strict mother is no longer letting Diana and Anne play together and Anne is simply heartbroken.  Here are two excerpts from their touching "good-bye scene."  (Textual evidence for all you reading teachers.)

“Ten minutes isn’t very long to say an eternal farewell in,” said Anne tearfully. “Oh, Diana, will you promise faithfully never to forget me, the friend of your youth, no matter what dearer friends may caress thee?”


I realized something important after summarizing chapter 16 to my dad, it was a ridiculous book to be spending my precious summer reading.  This book has already sucked up four days of reading.  I am reworking the design of my summer reading today.  I am pretty sure it will include something by Willa Cather, Lincoln in the Bardo, and, yes, Moscow Nights.  

I am open to recommendations.

Prairie Eydie

The Art of Talking to Your Dad - Part 1

Prairie Pa and Prairie Eydie.  Father's Day 2016.  

I was talking to a friend the other day about how my dad is even more important in my life as I age.  How is this possible?  I am 49 years old and no longer need my dad to slip me 20 dollars or to say "Yes" when my mom says "No."  (Not that he ever did.)

I mean.  Did the band even know she was on the boat?

When I was younger, I didn't sit around talking to my dad.  Like - no way.  I was busy planning my sequence of awesome sweaters to wear to high school.  Or discussing the latest Duran Duran video with my best friend.  (Just who was that lynx of a painted woman prowling around the sailboat while the band sang "Rio"?) Now Dad and I talk all the time on the phone.

A great beach read.  

This time of year gardening and book recommendations are hot topics.  Dad wants me to finish reading Moscow Nights because it is super interesting and educational.  But, I am in the middle of Anne of Green Gables and Marilla just unfairly accused Anne of stealing her amethyst brooch.  Poor Anne almost missed the Sunday School picnic!  It also took several conversations to decide if I should top off my front garden bed with compost this year.  (The answer is "no" because we finally remembered we did that last year.) 

Back when Dad was impressing the neighbors with his mad begonia skills.

Dad and I always hit upon certain topics.  The grand kids, Costco, and the funniest parts of Car Talk.  (For all you Car Talk fans, our favorite line to quote is:  "It only works if the answer is 2."  Ha. Gets me every time.) I call him weekly, after getting the Aldi's flier. I like to update him on produce deals.  When I do this, Dad always pretends he doesn't know who he is talking to. For years I passionately scorned Aldi's, but I love Aldi's now that I am on a budget.  Weekly, I dutifully push a quarter into the slot to get a shopping cart and enter the dimly lit world of Aldi's where there are European cookies and Tika masala in the same aisle and dead flower bouquets at the checkout.  

And once again - Harry takes the lead!!! 
Prairie Pa in second and Prairie Eydie trailing behind.

One very important conversation we had was Dad talking me out of continuing my hot yoga practice.  Last summer I went to the yoga studio during a Wisconsin heat wave and it took me 18 hours to cool down.  Dad and I are now founding members of "The Harry Truman Walking Club."  It is less likely for my heart to explode if I am just briskly walking around the neighborhood.

Sunday is Father's Day.  I have many friends whose dads have passed on.  Too soon.  Can I say how enjoyable it is to hear stories about my friends' dads?  Shared love always percolates through the stories.  The kids and I are going to spend Sunday with my dad, so I won't need to call him.  BUT, feel free to call me if you want to talk about your dad.  I would love to hear stories about your dad, even the ones I have heard before.

Prairie Eydie  

    

The Art of Designing Your Summer

I am a fan of the Gretchen Rubin/Liz Kraft podcast, Happier. 
(FYI:  Liz started a podcast with her writing partner called Happier in Hollywood.  Super fun listen.)  Last May, Gretchen and Liz discussed the importance of designing your summer.  If you spend some time planning, you won't  wake up on Labor Day wondering why you spent the summer beached in front of Netflix.  Gretchen's summer design was to meet a friend for lunch 3 - 5 times a week. Since I am a lazy teacher with summer's off, my design is more involved.     

Four score and one year ago,
Lulu tried on a hat that I refused to buy.

I loved this idea and, for the first time, designed my summer in 2016.  Here are a few highlights from last summer:


I read the entire Harry Potter series for the first time.  (Note:  Books 3 - 7 are magical.  Feel free to skip books 1 & 2 and just watch the movies.  I know.  I am SUCH a Muggle.)

The kids and I took a family vacation to Springfield, Illinois, Land of Lincoln.

Many people advised me NOT to paint the basement a curry color.  But I did and I love it.  Many people also told me not to carpet a basement.  Again.  I did and I love it.  

I finished making the basement family room livable.  It used to be bar area with stick-on carpet tiles.  I even painted the entire room by myself.  Years ago, a boyfriend told me I couldn't be trusted with a roller and I believed that for years. Painter's tape is my friends, so much so that there is still some hanging out on the ceiling.

I made one photo book on Snapfish.  To make this a super cool project, I met up with my friend, Diane, and we each worked on photo books once a week.  

I have to say, last summer was one of my best summers ever.  I actually did everything in my design plan.  There is a shift that happens when you say "Designing My Summer" instead of "My Summer to Do List."   

I am starting to design the summer of 2017.  Here are some design elements:

I will reread the Anne of Green Gables series and watch the corresponding Public Television series.   

Yep.  This is the signage for the LIW Museum in Pepin, Wisconsin. Like a bad Holly Hobby craft project.  I seriously need to devote my retirement to this museum.   

A Laura Ingalls Wilder road trip will be happening.  I will be the tour guide for my mom, aunt, niece and daughter as we journey to Pepin, Wisconsin and Walnut Grove, Minnesota.  All road trip members have to read or reread the first four books in the series. (You can't take the books outta the Reading Specialist.)  I don't want to field stupid questions like - "Who were Pet and Patty?" or "What kind of buttons did Ma's fancy dress have?"

Meeting up with one friend a week for coffee.

Finishing the organizing and styling of my studio so I can host a "Studio Night" in August.  

How will you be designing your summer?  Let me know.  

Prairie Eydie

     

The Art of Being a Mentor - Part I

Friday was my last day of school, completing 26 years in education. Before leaving for the day, I moved classrooms (again), posted my grades, and reluctantly said good-bye to friends & students. (Oh okay.  I also enthusiastically bid adieu to a few students.)   

I have taught everything from Head Start to 8th grade science to a gifted 2nd/3rd grade split class.  I have been reminiscing about the talented teachers who mentored me along my journey.  Now-a-days, beginning teachers are assigned a mentor.  It is all very organized and involves unpacking Common Core standards and critiquing the Growth Mindset.  (Actually I have no idea what their meetings involve, other than talking earnestly in the library.)  

Me two or three years into my teaching career.  I was wearing my roommate's clothes, my mom's pin, and quite possibly some bottle cap earrings.  (I still wear bottle cap earrings.)  Surprisingly, I now make enough money to buy my own clothes and jewelry - although I am still not above borrowing from mom.     

Back in the day, you had to scrounge up your own mentor.  I was a pro at finding mentors because I didn't know what I was doing.  Being the one in charge can cause both anxiety and hysteria. I also wanted to be the best teacher possible and that always involves learning from others.   

Let me tell you about my first mentor, Cari.  She was a veteran 2nd grade teacher who was beloved by both students and parents.  Cari  ate spinach out of a can, had two desk drawers full of stickers and mints, and rarely took school work home.  She applied a fresh coat of lipstick during morning and afternoon recess.   (I am in awe of anyone who remembers to reapply lipstick.)

Cari and I celebrating Christmas at her house.  Super good mentors will always make you dinner.  Again, I am wearing my roommate's clothes.   

 Here are some invaluable bits of knowledge I learned from Cari.  (Let it be noted, that none of this was taught in college.) 

• Three weeks before the end of the school year, start a folk dancing unit.  Folk dancing is active, yet controlled.  I remember checking out a record (Yes, it was a record.) from the library called - "Folk Dances From Around the World."  We danced our way through Belgium and Japan and Appalachia.  There are no student (or teacher) melt downs when you are promenading to the finish line.  

• Fill all the wall space with projects before Parent/Teacher conferences.  This way parents will be distracted and forget to bring up that one play ground incident.  I remember asking Cari about a bee art project that suddenly appeared by her door.  The bees were huge and puffy because they were stuffed with newspaper.  (We used to stuff everything with newspaper back then.)  The bees had HUGE googly eyes and menacing stingers.  

Me:  I didn't know you were studying bees.
Cari:  We aren't.  I just had some space to fill in before conferences.  Me:  What are you doing now?
Cari:  Typing up some "Bee Facts" for kids to learn so I am not ratted out.

• On the day before Halloween assign an impossibly detailed Haunted House drawing.  Give strict parameters, such as - your Haunted House must contain 1 spider, 2 witches, 3 cauldrons (Have students look up "cauldron" if they are unsure.  Back then, there were two shelves of battered dictionaries in every classroom.)  This assignment is very versatile and can be adapted to any any holiday.

Cari also taught me how to connect with kids, grade workbooks without taking them home, and how to plan a successful field trip.  All valuable skills.  Cari faithfully mentored me even though she didn't have to.  (Did I mention how time consuming I was at that time in my life?)  She always put aside whatever she was doing to listen to me and make suggestions.

Who are your mentors helping you out along the way?  I suggest buying them a pricey card and letting them know how valuable they are.  Cari should be getting her card at this time next week.  

Prairie Eydie  




     

The Art of Mother's Day

Mother's Day has become such an ordeal.  I remember giving my mom a construction paper card every year.  She read the card, said she liked it - then we moved on with our day.  (I really wanted to make her breakfast in bed, but for some unknown reason she was vehemently opposed to that idea.)  Now Mother's Day seems to have become the ordeal that Valentine's Day has become. 

The Holy Grail of Motherhood.  

Gus made me this awesome necklace in Clay Camp one summer.  It is casual, yet classy, enough to go with almost anything.    

 
The day after Mother's Day other moms were asking me how my Mother's Day was.  I told them I worked on planting my veggie gardens with trays of delicate plants that had been blasted with patchy frost.  (My basil is still trying to recover.)  Of course, I then asked about their Mother's Day.  I heard about insanely delicious brunches, meaningful photo books, and hikes to stands of heirloom lilacs.  I admired lovely necklaces and was wide eyed with desire when afternoon naps were described to me - quiet moment by quiet moment.  Was I jealous?  Of course.  Was I happy that they were recognized as the fabulous mothers they are? Of course.        

What some people don't understand is that when you're a single mom, there is no one to orchestrate Mother's Day.  Someone with an actual checking account needs to buy the birthstone necklace from Etsy.  An active cell phone is needed to make brunch reservations.  (I am pretty sure my kids don't even know what brunch is.)  Someone older than 12 needs to lead the battle cry of emptying out the house for an hour or more.  

Bless all the teachers who put the energy into Mother's Day presents.  I LOVE these forever blooming coffee filter flowers.  

My daughter, Lulu, gave me all my Mother's Day presents early because she was so excited.  Her saint of a teacher coordinated all the projects.  Middle child, Gus, gave me my card 3 weeks early. He did this because I had a screaming meltdown while kicking the vacuum cleaner down the hall.  In my defense, the meltdown was precipitated by my sloth children sitting on the couch, plugged in, oblivious to the fact that I was doing all of the work.  My oldest child had no clue it was Mother's Day, because Middle School teachers are too busy teaching curriculum to mess around with "holidays."

Hall and Oates - making your dreams come true for years and years . . . and years.

Final thoughts.  Mothers deserve more than one day a year to be celebrated.  Moms need to look for the sweet things that happen all year long.  Like when your "tween" hugs you for making a ham dinner when it isn't even Christmas.  Or when your 90 pound ten year old curls up in your lap and asks, "What was your favorite band from the eighties?"  (He did not like my answer - since technically "Hall & Oates" is a duo and not a band.)  Or when your daughter invites you to a dance party in her room.  Maybe when my kids get older I will be taken out to brunch and given a birthstone necklace.  Until then I am going to just smell the coffee filter flowers.

Prairie Eydie