Thursday, July 20, 2017

Clutter-Free Cluster-Fun? Holidaze Hankerings Edition

And then there was one... less than one... month to TWO!! AGH!!!

Actually, Chaya's already embracing her twoness in many wonderful ways.

I'm learning many of my most oft repeated words from her burgeoning little linguistic repertoire: "pretty cool," "awesome," "oh really?", "oh goodness," "careful!", "nervous," "BABY DOWN" (my attempt at neither escalating nor minimalizing Chaya's frequent pratfalls), "accursed mountebank"... the usual.

And she has coined what appears to be the word FAGULOUS... which I'm not sure I think she should be repeating in polite company, but could be appropriate uttered in very narrow circumstances. Along with her continued insistence that we must call a spoon "booze" and use a work for "fork" that definitely has some cacophemistic qualities to it.

She also does high fives and raises the roof (or possibly razes; "RAIZ ROOF RAIZ ROOF"), and says "OOOOPA!" for her daddy and "OOOOKRA!" for her mommy.  And ABDs, ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR... THEEE-FOOOR-FIVE-NINEs.




And the emotions. They be big, as promised. I hear that two actually isn't that terrible compared to what lays ahead. I hear that two-year-olds are walking bags of frustration and angst because they ought to be understood and want to understand and it's just damned frustrating (little artists). I hear that then they're three and they understand and they're like "fork that noise, mommy and daddy." And then they're four and they're all that but big enough that it's even harder to physically restrain them from hurting you and ... seriously parents of older kids love horror stories. I get a little nervous that Chaya already can trigger me, exasperate me, and get my mommy-goat (mah mah here and mah mah there) despite all my gentle meditative mindful effort, already! Before she even really is trying to do so.

At any rate there is a flavor of two that we're definitely imbibing at the moment, for good and ill and all adorable. There's an iron will, for sure. Vivid concentration. Immaculate memory and object permanence. A desire to test boundaries and assert identity. The gleeful bacchanalia that tips into ovestimulated decompensation at a second's notice. And of course the wonderful wonder and sense of discovery. It's a barrel of wowza.


As we wind into year two, the household continues to adapt.

The Schtuff schlog persists. We've wended through accessories (bye bye amazing earring collection languishing in dusty desuetude), and special purpose clothing (note to self: modern maternity bathing suits are beautiful and go a long way towards celebrating the non-existent BUMP, creating a rather eerie vacuum in your post partum midsection and it's time to let go).




And we continue to contemplate acquisition in regards to the little schtuff magnet.

It's strange to reflect on certain joys and 'filias of my childhood; and then choose to do something differently than my parents. I had an amazing childhood. I think Chaya should be half so lucky with her parents as I was with mine. And I have such strong positive memories of acquiring things. I blanch at some of the things I took joy in. If it was bored, I liked just going to an accessory store and buying earrings. Or a shirt. Or anything. I loved to buy things. And receive things. And acquire. And store things. But in a sense, we all evolve. I evolved with my mother and father after their divorce. What gave me joy then is different. And it at the very least reinforces that no matter what we start with, Chaya's preferences (and ours) will be two hundredfold different by the time she's an adult.

I can only do what I can do. And for all our sakes, I'd love to promote a less congested world. At the very least so mommy doesn't die strangled in Chaya's undersized shirts or tripped down the stairs of WonderBlox.




** Standard Disclaimer- Omphaloskeptical Skepticism of Everything Else I say Above and BelowAhead **

Apparently the key word into the cultist version of my yen to simplify with a child is "clutter free." Welcome to the handy world of blogs, listicles and hand crafted sustainable advice.

Clutter free also represents the kind of fastidious minimalism that doesn't appeal to me either. I think there's merit and logic in allowing a little chaos and celebrating objects and possessions.

The fixation on experience over possession only goes so far. One can just as readily clutter one's time with meaningless business or obsessions (like, say maintaining a minimal lifestyle in a society of pullulating consumption). Of course we clutter our time with busy-ness, phones, etc. But I'll get to that in a sec. 

I get the sense that the emphasis on leisure time over possessions is pointedly a signal of participation in a certain class of American society. Time is valuable in a way consumable goods no longer are. In a culture where time is the true premium - where we are flooded with so many cheap and available goods and junky mass-produced food as to have no limitations on our acquisition of it before it become deleterious to our well-being - of course it becomes a certain endemic that people will feel oppressed by their stuff.

 Of course classist strains of "virtue" will attach itself to those who have time to: (1) live sustainably, (2) cultivate their possessions, (3) eat handmade food with minimal processing, (4) optimize their free-range learning opportunities, (4) etc. And that the time and energy required to keeping only what is needed, organizing and caring for what is kept, and otherwise maintaining a lifestyle that might be the only option in a less "affluent" society, is only something available to the wealthier. 

Besides, as an introvert, I really do value my empty time as much as my empty space. Sometimes I hear the suggestion of offering to take a beloved child on a trip and I think of the many relatives I would have hated traveling with or being left alone with for a period of time. Or classes I would never want to be obligated to attend any more than hanging onto something. 

Not all clutter free sermonizing is blind to this one. There's a heavy emphasis on the screen-free. The Nordic fetish with playtime and Hygge... But, still, keeping a perfectly balanced and clutter-free home for your free-range child smacks of "stuff well-off white people like" about as much as day hiking with a structured pack (ahem, not that we've done that recently), farm-to-table foods, or paying to pick berries (uh huh) at the local farm. 







Not that this is bad intrinsically, but it's worth the reflection that I am pointedly a product of my culture.

And, let's just be honest... it all comes down to a fetishization of some sort. One can be minimalist one of two ways: (1) basically an anorexia of ownership- turning compulsive consumption into compulsive non-consumption until it truly consumes one's life, (2) putting all one's energy into consuming and possessing only the highest quality items. There's an Epicurean delightfulness in this, but it certainly manages to again prioritize consumption. So we're all somehow in the same situation. We just have different resources for our consumption. And it's nice to have time and resources to be mindful. But seriously, with a toddler, I don't have that much mind left, so maybe I'm not the right target for anything too thorough on any grounds. 

Finally, I am NOT a mom-blogger who thinks my kid should make her bed every morning, donate all her toys, and keep the fridge totally clear (seriously??)

Ok... that out of my system. There's too much stuff in our house!! Chaya and I are both overstimulated. Let's manage instead of cultivate for now...

***

My current fixation is on occasions, particularly with the little one's second coming up. How to celebrate them and bring the magic of my childhood holidays into her life in new ways.


Right now I'm trying to figure out the balance between object and experience. Receiving and giving gifts is an experience in itself. There's a place for this far beyond any mercantile exchange of goods. And there's something even more important about tangibility in an increasingly virtual world. 

 I remember holidays and the magic around gift-giving so fondly. Christmas and the brightly colored packages. The crinkle of ribbons. The visceral satisfaction of stockings. And the Easter baskets. Objects become totems for tacit and deeply held mutual affections. The act of exchanging them in certain ceremonial ways become reinforcing rites that glue families together in tradition. There is a joy in tangibility that I cannot deny. I miss that joyousness even now, though I less frequently get hand wrapped gifts. When I do get a stocking, even if nothing in the stocking is particularly interesting, there's some magic still clinging.

Which makes me wonder: how do I preserve that tangibility and festivity without relying on (1) junk, or (2) junk food. Really, I have no desire to replace clutter with crap. Not that certain holidays won't be devoted to the mindless consumption of things, but ultimately... well, I'd rather find a third way.

A few thoughts I've had so far:


* I enjoyed my childhood Easter Tradition of finding dyed eggs, then making them into an Easter meal. I also enjoy Claudia's Easter tradition of using shelled eggs, brightly coloring them, filling them with confetti, and then cracking them on the ground at the end. OOOPA!




* I recently discovered a group called Skagit County Rocks! They are centered are painting rocks found while exploring, then hiding them again for other members of the group to find, then rehide. I like the idea that these are things people can paint creatively, and then give forward

* I like the idea of planting a tree each birthday. Maybe a similar green plant experience for other holidays?


* Chaya's recently become obsessed with stickers. While not exactly being consumable, they tend to stick on things briefly, get torn off and go into the trash. Major win.




* Chaya's always obsessed with balloons. And they too die over time instead of sedimenting.

* I love "adopting" an animal and sponsoring a child in a poorer country when I was younger. I "had" an orca, a goat, and a leopard. And I actually corresponded with a few children in various parts of the country. There are also magazine subscriptions. I loved Zoo Books as a kiddo.

* Of course there is a place for experience. I do want to do an outing and a special family meal/hang out for each occasion. This year, we're going to the zoo. I'm sure we can think of something special associated with that. Maybe animal feed for the chickens if we go to a farm? Something silly like that.



* Well, this is highly material, but new "big girl" clothes are always useful at this age. That will slow down, but... shoes and socks, hats, coats, etc. Still highly consumable.

* I am playing with the idea of doing a small annual time capsul. A small note. Maybe an item or two of special importance. Seal it up somewhere and wait 5-10 years to open it again. Possibly asking all participants in a baby party to bring a small memento to be interned until the future. That one's all very theoretical. It creates a certain kind of clutter in a basement somewhere, of course, but still...

* Of course there are always really creative and weird foods. And one of my favorite adult traditions is something of a "food challenge" in which my father and I (usually by accident) acquire odd ingredients and are then forced to ad lib some fabulous meal with them. I kind of like the idea of giving less common fruits and veggies and edibles and then doing something with them.

* Seriously, Chaya would be happiest with several rolls of floss, a few spinny toothbrushes, some plastic gum containers and a few piles of dirt.



At any rate, there's a little less than a month to improvise this year and start fantasizing about Christmas.




And/or survive the terrible terrific twoness.

Wish us luck and lots of love!!

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