Thursday, October 25, 2007

Meal Blessings


“Welcome. Welcome. Welcome to our table. Welcome. Welcome. Let’s all join hands together.”
Usually off-key and rarely synchronized, the “Welcome Song” has signaled the start of meal time in our house since we learned it over two years ago in our Waldorf parent-child class.
Our daughter, not yet a year at the time, was mesmerized by the singing and the lighting of the candle before each meal.

I was equally entranced. The quiet calm that came over the group (a group filled with active babies and toddlers) as the song began was amazing.

Hoping to recreate the “candle effect” at home, we began lighting a candle and singing the song, followed by a short blessing, each night at dinner.

Two-and-a-half years later, the song, the blessing and the candle-lighting remain an important part of our meal experience.

Our son, Quinn, now 18 months, has experienced it since birth and now reaches out to hold hands as soon as we click the strap on his booster seat – sometimes catching one of us forgetting and starting to eat before we sing.

Like every other family on the planet, we have gone through stressful periods where children’s needs, work schedules, and clutter messes got in the way of even sitting together at the table, never mind singing and lighting candles.

But the Welcome Song always finds its way back to us.

Whether it’s me spotting a new beeswax candle in a store, or Quinn toddling around with the candle snuffer singing “Welca-Welca,” something always reminds us how important our family meals and the rituals around them are.

Candles to go
Meal blessings have become so special that we now have a candle, complete with a fancy candelabra, at my parents’ house and at my mother-in-law’s house, it is my niece and nephew who make sure that every meal begins with our song and blessing.

There have been times when the food my mother-in-law prepares smells so good and we are all so hungry that we dive right in.

But every time that has happened, somewhere along the way, at some point in the meal, one of the children has noticed and insisted that we all stop and sing (sometimes simply blessing our dessert).

Getting Started
If you’d like to begin some new mealtime rituals in your house, I’d suggest starting small.
First and foremost, and I thank my dad for consistently holding to this rule, turn off all the background distractions like the television, talk radio, cell phones etc.

If a meal blessing feels too foreign and singing (even off-key like us) is too awkward, you might try what my friends do each night at dinner and take turns answering “What was the best part of your day?”.

Or maybe offer a toast (ourthree-year-old loves drinking her water out of a wine glass and toasting with the rest of us) to set the mood and focus on good-feeling thoughts.

You might even want to start just once a week with a more formal meal blessing or toast and see what evolves.

Or take advantage of upcoming holiday meals – a wonderful time to resurrect a family meal blessing or begin a new tradition!

Here are a few short, child-friendly meal blessings to get you started:

Blessings on our meal, on everyone here and everyone dear.

Thank you for the world so sweet. Thank you for the food we eat. Thank you for the birds that sing. Thank you God for everything.

Earth who gives to us this food; Sun who makes it ripe and good; Dearest Earth, Dearest Sun, Joy and Love for all you have done.

Come Lord Jesus, be our guest and may our daily food be blessed.

Thank you, God, for happy hearts, for rain and sunny weather. Thank you for the food we eat and that we are together.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Finding my Way

When I think back to where I was three-and-a-half years ago, working in university public relations, editing Web sites, photographing community events, supervising interns and teaching yoga in the evenings, it feels like another lifetime.

As I counted down the days to our first child’s birth and the beginning of my maternity leave (from which I knew I would not return), I could not even begin to imagine my life as it is now.
And yet as my growing belly pushed me further away from my keyboard and physical exhaustion made a walk across campus feel like an Olympic event, I spent (far too many) hours daydreaming about what was to come as I began my new life as a stay-at-home mother.

I visualized myself enjoying all of my favorite “at-home” hobbies – gardening, cooking, reading, writing, photography, sewing, knitting, spinning – and even looked forward to exploring some new hobbies like traveling (after all I was no longer going to be tied down to a work schedule).

I imagined myself constantly surrounded by helpful people who rocked my baby while I cooked and sewed.

And for a while it was like that (not so much the cooking and sewing, but lots of people around to help). And then one by one people went back to work; back to their lives and their commitments.

The last one to “abandon” me was my mom, a high school teacher who spent most of her summer vacation helping me and enjoying her new grand-daughter.

By mid-September, I was in a pretty good funk.

The only thing growing in my garden was weeds. My spinning wheel was covered in dust (and eventually banished to the basement where it still remains).

Knitting, reading, traveling…ha! I couldn’t even figure out how to shower regularly or keep up with the endless mountains of laundry, never mind cooking a decent meal or even finding the top of the table so we could have a “family dinner.”

As the long winter days came, the funk mushroomed into panic and waves of depression.

Why was my reality so different than what I thought it would be?

I pictured myself being a happy, go-with-the-flow, mom, baking cookies and singing songs with my child happily strapped to my back and instead found myself just trying to survive the days (and nights), “killing time” and waiting for my husband to come home.

It wasn’t all bad. There were definitely plenty of sweet, tender moments, but overall I felt a sense that something was lacking and I just couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

I started talking to other mothers and my own mother and grandmother.

I asked them about their experiences being home with young children and if they felt the feelings that I was feeling.

What I found was that most mothers of grown children have generally forgotten the challenges of the early years.

But usually after talking for a while, I would see little waves of recognition as they remembered what it was like to never be alone – not even in the bathroom!

One thing I consistently heard from my mom and other women her age is that there was a
much larger community of mothers around them when they were home with their children.

In my parents’ neighborhood alone, my mother had several best friends who were also home with their children. She talked about visiting with each other while they cooked and cleaned and trading childcare so that they all got a little “time off.”

The men in my parents’ group of friends also were consistently home from work by 5 p.m. – something that is not common among the young families that I know.

My grandmother’s generation had different challenges. The jobs that our appliances do for us (washing and drying clothes, diapers and dishes for example) were done by hand.

But in those days children were turned out to play like horses in a field, returning home only when the streetlights came on.

And many of the men of their generation worked over-time or multiple jobs to provide for their families, and were not expected to pitch in at home even if they were there. (Fortunately not the reality for most fathers I know.)

Finding my way
So what does all this mean for me, a mom in the early 21st century, trying to make my way?
What I have come to learn in the last several years, as our family grew to include our now 17-month-old son, is that I am incredibly blessed to live in a time where there are infinite options in creating the family experience we want to have.

For me that means, utilizing modern conveniences like take-out pizza, disposable diapers, and Bob the Builder videos, when I need to, and celebrating choices that I value like cloth diapers, home-cooked meals, and homemade gifts when it feels good to do so.

It’s about creating the community that I want to experience instead of complaining about its lack.

Utilizing babysitters, mother’s helpers, sharing meals with friends, being honest with myself about my expectations, my needs and my limitations and, most importantly, letting go of the idea that I can and should be able to do it all.

As I finish writing this, my three year old is enjoying a morning at preschool and my 17- month-old is at a wonderful home daycare where he is being loved and nurtured.

And – at least in this moment – I have found the joy and the balance and the peace I have been searching for since my parenting journey began.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Sunday, July 29, 2007

Make a wish...


The Sunflower field at Buttonwood Farm in Griswold, Conn., where we took a hayride to benefit "Make a Wish."

Sunday, July 15, 2007



I saw this beautiful painting today at Kid's City in Middletown, Conn. It's part of the mural in the Toddler's Undersea Watercaves.

Once I spotted it, I couldn't take my eyes off it. How wonderful that someone created this breastfeeding mermaid and that it was included in the mural that surrounds the youngest children's playspace.

Saturday, July 7, 2007

About me

I thought I'd start by writing a bit about who I am. Last night while I was cleaning I picked up a journal given to me by my wonderful friend Julianna, which has on it a beautiful poem that is identified only as an "American Indian Prayer."

Feels like a pretty accurate description.


I AM

I am a woman of
light,

a woman
of the day,


I am a
mother

woman,

I am a woman who looks
into the inside of things,


I am a whirling
woman of colors.

Lucky sevens?

Doh.

Computer is running a little slow this morning so I'm not quite going to make my 7 a.m. post on 7-7-07 (which seemed like an auspicious time to begin this new venture). Oh well. I started posting at that time at least!
;-)