If you've been a regular reader of "Joyful Reads" (thank you!), you know that I like to title the editions by topic, so it's easier for you (and me) to find them later. But from time to time, I wind up with a random bunch of wonderfulness--great posts that I really can't categorize, except to say, "I wish I'd written all of them." I hope you'll enjoy this round-up, and if you choose to comment on any of the posts (all writers are starving for comments, didn't you know?), please tell them that I sent you their way.
From Connie at I Suck as a Parent (P.S. No, she doesn't!): The New Normal
When your mom is a photographer and a blogger, you've got the Dreaded Double-Whammy: A mom who records every little thing in words and pictures. You can't possibly leave for the first day of school without lots and LOTS of pictures. Way more than the average number of back-to-school photos. We're talking hundreds. Of every little step, from the front steps to the bus stop.
She'll even take pictures when the dog decides that it's the ideal time for a butt-licking.
Just don't even think about rushing off to school without your mom looking at you really, reeeeeally closely, noticing what's changed about you since the last time you left for a first day of school. She's already remembering the old pictures she took, the ones she'll look at later, when you're off at school.
She'll also probably be thinking about the very first time you left for school...or rather, were walked into school. You were holding her hand very tightly, and gave a good, long squeeeeeezy hug before she went back to her car (to cry).
She'll think about the very first time you rode the bus.
And now, here it is, years later, another first day of school. You're almost taller than your mom at this point (which isn't hard, because your mom is short, but still, you're growing and growing and growing).
When your mom is a photographer and a blogger, you've got a mom who is always trying to see the poetic part of the situation.
Who is looking for the best light.
Who looks at the budding Rose of Sharon bush (which blooms beautifully, like clockwork, at the very end of August) and thinks, "Another year..."
Don't be surprised if, after you get on the bus and are riding off to school, your mom walks into the (very) quiet house and says out loud to the dog, "Just you and me again."
Because you have a mom who's really sentimental.
Who wants to freeze time with photographs.
Who wants to write it all down, commit it to paper, so she can read it one day and remember it all in detail, again.
Not that she would ever forget, because, you know...she's a mom.
That's actually a triple-whammy: Photographer-Blogger-Mom.
Kids, get used to it: You're in for a LOT of pictures.
Okay, it's time for another confession: I just cannot stand the scent of roses. (There, I said it!) They certainly look pretty, though, don't they? I had a lovely time with them today, meandering around our garden with a camera, snapping away at them while trying not to inhale!
On Saturday night, my daughter hosted her first big sleepover at our house, inviting every girl in her first grade class. Let me tell you, those ten little girls stayed up alllllllllll niiiiiiiiight loooooooong! Luckily for them, they're super-sweet. Just like the cake I made for the party...
I know that I included a photo of peonies last week, but we have them in vases all over the house right now (saving them from collapsing from their own weight on the bushes), and they're just so fluffy and pretty! I couldn't resist including another peony shot this week...
Also pretty, and so full of poise: our dear friends' daughter (pictured below) at the school talent show today...
I noticed something funny at this talent show. All of the girls sang melancholy songs about heartbreak, and all of the boys rapped silly songs while break-dancing. (Hmmmm....just a coincidence? You tell me!)
My son's Little League team made it to the Championships! (Those are some of his teammates, below--such a great group of boys this year!) They play their final game of the season tonight. Wish them luck!
Would you like to learn how to take photos like these? Just three more weeks to register for my July photography e-course, "How to Take Better Photos of Nature and the World Around You." Click here for details!
All digital cameras welcome (any type, including smart phones).
Even if you have a full-time job, you'll be able to take this online class at your own pace.
P.S. The photographs of the roses in rain and the pink peonies in the vase are now available as art prints (framed or unframed) in my Society 6 web shop!
I often joke with my husband that I'm an unapologetic bridge-burner: When I'm done with something, I move on to The Next Big Thing and I don't look back, even if it was a success. High school. Old jobs. Former neighborhoods. Things of the past, to stay in the past. So it's been rather strange for me to dip my toes into the roaring torrent of social media and reconnect with characters from different chapters of my life. And it's been surprising and often pleasant to cross back over a bridge that I didn't think I'd cross again. There's a sweetness about finding old friends (many of them from my pre-teen years!), because we shared private jokes, silly notes, heartbreaks, and dramas, long before we had spouses, our own homes, or children--before our adult lives took over. I find that I'm still so fond of these old friends. Me, the alleged bridge-burner!
My daughter, Charlotte, loves full moons, bumpy roads, and bridges, and any time she comes across any of those things, she's filled with pure, contagious glee. She passed over a very meaningful bridge last week: the bridge from kindergarten to first grade. In the morning (eating her crisp apple for breakfast and contemplating the day ahead), she was a kindergartener...
...but by afternoon, she was a first-grader.
We pass over so many bridges in our lives, and we take on new titles to show our progression. Student to Graduate. Employee to Supervisor. Singleton to Spouse. DINKs (Double-Income-No-Kids) to Parents. Mother-of-One to Mother-of-Two. We cross borders and take on new identities: New Yorker to Pennsylvanian, World Traveler to Nester. So many journeys, so many titles, so many changes.
Catherine Newman writes in her masterpiece of a parenting book (at turns hilarious and heart-breaking), Waiting for Birdy, "Michael and I were two people, and now we are four. First there is one kind of life, then there is another...With the first baby, you can kind of squint at your former self, but it's as if you're parting a heavy, dark curtain to see it: 'Was that just last week that we got a slice of pizza and went to the movies?' you think, right after the baby's born. Who were those people?"
It all goes so quickly, doesn't it? I'm all about having less stuff now, but when it comes to photographs, I take many of them. Even if I think I'll remember every detail of the day, it's important--really, really important--to keep reminders of the bridges we cross.
What bridges have you crossed lately? How do you remember or stay connected to different chapters of your life? Please share in the Comments section below (now powered by CommentLuv for easier use). If you are reading this post via email subscription, click on the title or go to www.JoyfullyGreen.com and you can leave a comment at the original post.
I'm doing my first-ever guest post today, at We Only Do This Once, which is a super-inspiring blog about down-sizing your life so it contains minimal stuff and only your most passionate pursuits. Please meet me over there right now, where I'm discussing The Path to Fewer (and Better) Toys (Spoiler Alert: Talking Elmo does NOT make the cut.)
If you're visiting for the first time today, below are a few recent posts that might be right up your alley:
(c) 2013 by Joy Sussman/JoyfullyGreen.com. All rights reserved. Photo and text digitally fingerprinted and protected by MyFreeCopyright.com. Site licensed by Creative Commons.
Three weekends ago, to officially kick off the spring cleaning season, we had a multi-house yard sale with two of our neighbors. Whenever friends hear that we had a yard sale, the first thing all of them invariably ask is, "Did you make a lot of money?" Frankly, they're missing the point. It wasn't a get-rich-quick scheme; it was a get-rid-of-the-clutter plan (and an environmentally responsible plan, instead of sending the stuff to a landfill, which is my big pet peeve). Guess what? The plan worked. (But yes, we made a good chunk of change, especially considering that we were selling things we didn't want, use, or need anymore.) Even better, we learned some valuable lessons:
Just let it go already. I'm all for clearing out and cleaning up, but letting go of some things was harder than others. In particular, I had to part with the crib both of my babies (now 9 and almost 6) had taken their turns sleeping in. I'm already at the point where I can pass on their baby clothes to Goodwill or a consignment shop without dissolving into tears (that's a future post), but the crib? That was HARD. In fact, even though nobody had slept in the crib for years, I'd been using it in our guestroom to store extra blankets, just so I wouldn't have to part with it. (See below--this is not what a crib is intended for.)
So, yes, I let it go (sniffle, sniff...). I will admit that the guestroom looks a lot more welcoming now, with a bistro table and a couple of chairs in place of the crib. (No, I didn't buy those items--they were hold-outs from one of my old apartments, just sitting in our basement until the yard sale weekend.)
"The Thing is not the Person." This lesson comes courtesy of the organizing genius Peter Walsh, from his old days on the TLC show "Clean Sweep." When he told his clients, "The Thing is NOT the Person", he meant "take a long, hard look at the sentimental thing you won't part with, and decide if you really need it to remind you of the person. Also, if you really, truly value something that reminds you of someone, its place is not in the attic, the basement, or the back of a closet. If you can't use it, can't frame or display it, or can't otherwise pay worthy tribute to it, let it go to somebody who actually will use it and appreciate it on a daily basis." Chances are pretty good that you have other, much better ways of remembering the person, such as photos, which brings me to the next point...
Take a picture of it. Especially in the digital age, a photo takes up virtually no space, so you can still gaze at the thing you got rid of and sigh dramatically at it.
Get the kids on-board. At first, our children were a bit skeptical about thinning out their toy collections, so we had to resort to offering them one special new toy each if they would part with all of the toys they'd outgrown (which was A LOT). However, they're at the stage now when they want to be viewed as "big kids", so getting rid of "baby stuff" turned out to be easier for them than for us. A couple of weeks before the sale, we gave them an empty box for yard sale items, and we were surprised at how quickly they filled it up.
One sticking point was that my daughter didn't want to part with her teddy bear toddler bed, because she "wanted to save it for her own kids someday." She was in tears about it, so I told her she could keep it. (I may be on a minimalism jag, but I do have a heart.) She soon realized, all on her own, that the bed was just gathering cobwebs in the basement (and she does NOT like spiders). It gave her comfort to think the bed would go to a good home with a child who would sleep in it again.
Never underestimate the power of "free"-dom. We had a whole table of stuff with a big "FREE" sign on it, and it was the most popular spot at the sale. If people weren't going to buy anything, at least they were still going to take something away with them. Good items for a "free" table: cheap party favors and prizes, plastic toys of poor quality, and items a bit too worn-out to sell. I even put out a few products that I used once and didn't like (hair products, household cleaners), and they disappeared in a flash.
Don't let anything back into the house. If somebody is interested in something, he or she might be the only one who will be interested in it. Strike a fair deal and let it go. Anything you can't sell, donate.
Enjoy the fringe benefits. Aside from earning a little cash and a lot of space, our whole family was outdoors for an entire weekend, enjoying fresh air and sunshine. All of the kids from each of the three participating households were running from yard to yard, thoroughly happy and engaged with each other. As for us parents, we enjoyed a few cold beers together afterwards and some "decompression therapy."
Relish the new space. I'm not talking about NASA here. Once you get rid of stuff, don't fill the space back up. Let it breathe. Our basement and garage have never been cleaner. Ever. It's mentally and physically liberating. And that leads me to my last point--something I'm always telling my children when they ask me, yet again, "Mommy, whyyyyyyyy do we need to clean up?"
"Clean House, Clear Mind." Enough said.
When you see a yard sale, do you stop to shop or keep on driving? Have you ever had a yard sale of your own? If so, what did you learn from it?
While Earth Day 2013 has come and gone, I'm one of those people who believes that every day should be Earth Day. In the true spirit of being greener every day, here is a post about greening my children's school, and how you can green your school, too. In fact, many of the suggestions are also applicable to offices.
About three years ago, a casual dinner out with my good friends, Mike and Brenda, changed the whole direction of my life. We were discussing juice boxes, which might not seem very life-changing! But here was the point: Our children go to a small school with under 300 students, yet just one child whose parent packs a juice box every day for school throws out approximately 175 juice boxes in one school year. So in our own small school, we were getting into the thousands for juice boxes thrown out by our kindergarten class alone. And that's just in one school year! Juice boxes take hundreds of years to disintegrate (if ever), so for one little box that gets a couple of sips and squirts, it has a disproportionately long life on earth. Why couldn't our school be more environmentally responsible and encourage the use of thermoses and reusable water bottles instead? Turns out that we could do it--and much, much more.
Brenda encouraged me to start a "green team" at the school, and she offered to assist. (She and Mike both joined the team.) While she was enlisting members, I was researching the best ways to green our school, and came upon the enormously helpful templates at Green Schools Initiative. Before long, I was meeting with the school administrators, all of whom were incredibly supportive and enthusiastic about greening the school to a much larger extent. We had the momentum of a snowball rolling down a hill, and within a year, we became the first school in New Jersey to be named to the Green Schools Honor Roll. How did we do that? Here are just some of our initiatives:
We instituted a comprehensive recycling program at our school, with separate bins in each classroom for mixed paper and garbage, as well as bottle/can recycling in the cafeteria and staff rooms.
We further reduced waste by ordering biodegradable, compostable cups, plates, trays, and utensils (all plant-based) from World Centric for school lunches that are delivered to the classrooms of the younger students.
The school uses non-disposable plates, glasses, and utensils for the older students' lunches in the cafeteria and washes those items in an energy-efficient dishwasher.
We purchased an industrial-sized composter for kitchen and cafeteria food scraps.
No styrofoam cups or plates are allowed at any school events.
The school has a greenhouse and the science teachers incorporate hands-on growing lessons.
The school increased its paperless communications, favoring emails and encouraging visits to the school website for parent information.
We held a year-long crayon recycling program that encouraged students to donate their old, broken crayons to a local business that melts them down and reuses them.
For the educational component of greening the school, we brought in outside experts to present musical shows for the younger students and interactive discussions for the older students.
We set up a "No Idling Zone" at the pick-up line--especially important because it's right next to our playground and we didn't want our little ones breathing in noxious fumes from tailpipes.
We use green cleaners to avoid toxicity issues and provide cleaner air.
We have annual banner or poster contests for the students to celebrate Earth Day, with eco-themed prizes, such as Earthopoly games.
Our green team fundraisers encourage even less waste at lunchtimes. Currently, we're working with Snackaby reusable sandwich and snack pouches.
How can you incorporate a similar program at your school (or office)? Outline your agenda and take it in small steps, with the awareness that it may not be easy or even possible to have 100% enthusiasm or compliance. However, each change you can make is important and builds on itself. The easiest things to accomplish are the ones that are free (like setting up No Idling Zones). The second easiest are the ones that save money as well as resources in the not-so-long run (like using paperless communications and energy-efficient bulbs). Also, anything that decreases health hazards or increases safety measures for children and staff is hard to argue with (green cleaners, No Idling Zones).
So, how did the juice box conversation change my life? I've been chairing our school's green team for three years running. I was elected to the Board of Trustees at the school as a result of my green team involvement. I've met many like-minded friends along the way. And you're reading an environmental blog right now that has its roots in that dinner conversation. So thank you, Mike and Brenda, for urging me to begin the journey, and thank you, Hebrew Academy of Morris County, for always rising to the many challenges of greening our school.
Is your school or office a green facility? In what ways? If it's not, why not? Please share in the Comments section.
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I am the nesting, heat-seeking type, so now, as the days are gradually getting colder, darker, and shorter, I find myself not exactly "revved up" to go outside with the kids. Cuddling up on the couch with them (and our velvety dog) for a cozy storytime, under a big, fluffy throw, is much more to my liking. However, I've just read two very good books that strongly make the case for getting children outside almost every day (barring hurricanes and the like), so the validity of my excuses is dwindling rapidly.
Funnily enough, right in their titles, both books set a specific time for aiming to be outside--sort of an acknowledgement of my own feeling that, even for nature-lovers, it's just not that appealing to get out there sometimes, especially for long stretches. The first book is called 15 Minutes Outside: 365 Ways to Get Out of the House and Connect with Your Kids, (Sourcebooks, 2011), and the second book lengthens your outdoor goal to The Green Hour (Trumpeter Books, 2010).
Both of the authors have the right credentials for their subject matter: Rebecca P. Cohen, author of 15 Minutes Outside, is a "spokesmom" for the National Wildlife Federation's "Be Out There" movement and hosts her own "Get Out of the House" TV and radio programs; and Todd Christopher, author of The Green Hour, is the creator of the National Wildlife Federation's GreenHour.org.
When I first read the title of Ms. Cohen's book, it seemed just a wee bit pathetic to me. I mean, what's the point of spending ten minutes to get your kids properly bundled up in their winter gear (after you locate the orphaned mitten, the pair of boots that aren't two lefties, the scarf that doesn't itch, etc.), if you'll be out and about for only 15 minutes? Then I found that the author is just using that timeframe as a springboard. If you can head outside with the goal of spending at least 15 minutes out there, chances are pretty high that you'll stay out longer.
Mr. Christopher makes such thoroughly convincing and intelligent arguments that I'd feel guilty, as a self-proclaimed environmentalist, if I didn't take his thesis seriously. As he writes in the introduction: "Many parents today--even those who enjoyed a childhood full of nature play and discovery themselves [as I did--see the post entitled Beyond the Back Yard]--now raise children who are over-scheduled, over-exposed to media, and essentially disconnected from the natural world in any meaningful way." As the studies he cites suggest, "green time" has been replaced nowadays with "screen time." Childhood obesity and ADHD are just two of the side effects.
While Mr. Christopher's book is geared toward more in-depth activities (there are whole chapters devoted to studying clouds, leaves, and animal tracks), Ms. Cohen's book gives short, clever suggestions for activities, some of them so simple, I can't believe I never thought of them myself: painting on the snow with food coloring; having a snow-shoveling race; playing hockey with a big piece of ice; making designs in light dustings of snow with a broom. But in all honesty, I don't have a problem coming up with snow-day activities. Snow is a great prop that naturally lends itself to all kinds of fun. It's the bone-chilling, overcast gray days in between the snow days that present the biggest creative obstacles for me. Ms. Cohen is helpful here as well, with ideas such as bringing muffins fresh out of the oven and hot cocoa outside for a winter picnic and watching the steam swirl up into the chilly air; or birdwatching with binoculars, now that the leaves are off the trees and the birds are easier to spot.
So, I've been inspired to get the kids (and myself) outdoors more, even as the weather gets colder. I found one of the best reasons of all in The Green Hour: "Cornell University researchers have found that children's participation in nature activities is positively associated with the development of pro-environmental attitudes as adults."
It's hard to drive home the message to kids about caring for nature and the changing world around them if we can't be bothered to take them outside in the first place.
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In my "previous life" in public relations, I was attending a trade show and came upon a booth with an elderly woman displaying some handmade photo albums and scrapbooks for sale. Another booth visitor was chatting with her and it came up in the course of their conversation that it was the 5th birthday of the craftswoman's grandson.
"Oh, how nice! What are you getting him?" asked the other booth visitor.
"I don't give gifts. I give experiences," answered the craftswoman. She went on to explain that as she was getting on in years, the thing she really wanted to give her grandchildren was her time.
"They might really enjoy a new video game for a couple of months, or a new teddy bear to go with their already enormous collection of stuffed animals, but I want to give them memories of our fun times together that they can always hold on to." She talked about taking her grandchildren for day trips into New York City, where they would go to a special restaurant for lunch and then see a Broadway play together. Or she might take them to a national park for a picnic. Or the circus. Or invite them for a weekend sleepover at her house on the lake, complete with their favorite home-cooked meals and late-night movies. I left the booth thinking, "What lucky grandchildren!"
My friend, Cheryl, has inspired me in many ways, but one of the most important ways was her idea of birthday party gifts. Her son, Jonah, is 8 years old (the same age as my son, Zachary--they're the best of friends), and ever since Jonah was five, he and his parents have gotten together before his birthday to choose a charity for donations, in lieu of gifts from the party guests. One year, they collected money for the Ronald McDonald House in Philadelphia, which helps families with seriously ill children to stay together in a warm, loving place (as opposed to a hotel) while the sick child undergoes treatment at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia or other local medical facilities. For two years, they collected money for The Fresh Air Fund, which helps inner-city kids enjoy camp in the countryside that they otherwise would not be able to afford. Everybody wins with this idea: the party host and guests can learn about the charity; the parents don't have to shop for a gift; the birthday boy or girl can feel a real sense of accomplishment and leadership in raising funds for a charity; and of course, the charity itself benefits.
My own children are very...hmmm, how shall we say it?..."gift-oriented." So, two years ago, as we were leaving for Jonah's birthday party, Zachary said, "Wait--aren't we forgetting Jonah's present?"
"Nope," I said. "Jonah is collecting money for a charity instead." I filled him in on all the details. Zachary was quiet for a few moments, turning over this strange, new concept in his head. Then he said, "I want to do that, too!" We made an agreement that he could still get a special gift from his mom and dad, but the party guests could bring donations. Well, Jonah's birthday is in summer, and Zachary's birthday is in winter, so I have to admit that I fully expected him to change his tune once his birthday rolled around.
He didn't. As we were planning out his party, Zachary said, "Remember, Mom, I don't want gifts. I want to raise money for Eleventh Hour Rescue." Eleventh Hour Rescue is a local organization that saves animals from being euthanized at over-crowded shelters, and then adopts them out to loving families. We got our own beautiful dog, Delilah, from Eleventh Hour, so this was a cause particularly close to Zachary's heart.
At the birthday party, Zachary collected the donations in a big envelope with Delilah's photograph on it. We raised over $500 (it was two classes full of kids!), and Zachary beamed with pride on the way home. For me, another real perk of this gift-giving concept was not having to drive home a van full of toys that we really don't need!
Zachary wanted to write his own letter to deliver to Eleventh Hour, but he wanted it to look very "business-y," so we sat at the computer and he dictated to me what he wanted to say:
February 12, 2010
TO: Eleventh Hour Rescue
My name is Zachary. I just turned 7 and for my birthday party, I did not want presents. I wanted money donations so that no animals would be killed and I really hope that you can make a lot of animals have their lives saved. Thank you for saving our dog and for bringing her up to New Jersey. She was named "Olivia" in Georgia, and then named "Vidalia" by the people who brought her up to New Jersey, but I didn't like the onion name, so now we decided her name is "Delilah." We love her so much and I love playing with her. She is a lovable dog and she has a new special place in my heart.
Enclosed: $529.00 plus photo of Delilah
*********************************
We wanted to hand-deliver the donations to Eleventh Hour, and as we were driving up to their building, their van was just arriving with a brand-new load of puppies from Georgia that they had saved from being euthanized. What exquisite timing!
"Look who you've helped save, Zachary!" I said to him as we looked at all of the adorable puppies being carried into the Eleventh Hour facility. They were yipping and barking at each other, tails wagging, tongues hanging out.
As we drove away, Zachary looked back at all of the puppies still being carried inside and said, "I want to collect money for Eleventh Hour for all of my birthdays...until I'm 99 years old!"
I guess when he turns 100, he's entitled to a few new toys.
