Saturday, December 29, 2012

We're moving!

I tend to write about tiny details and forget about life-changing events, so I thought I best put it in writing now before it's old news: We're moving! We are closing on our first home on Friday (6 days!!!) My parents and Sisay and I will be the co-owners of a beautiful home right here in Eliot. The first level is a completely separate in-law apartment and we will live upstairs in a 4 bedroom unit.

The stars have certainly aligned for us. Sisay was informed that we would have to move off the Green Acre campus within the next couple months, and after a brief moment of panic followed by a week or two, we had found our dream house and started the process. The house sits on 4.5 mostly-wooded acres. You know what this means, right??! Chickens! Gardens! Fruit trees! Free firewood! Nature walks! Goats! (okay, maybe not this one for a few years.) And to think that my babies get to grow up under the same roof as their grandparents! (who, by the way, are the ones who have made this all possible.) We are beyond excited. And we cannot wait to welcome as many of you into our home as are willing to make the journey to the far north. or pretty-far-north.

First up: Sisay's sister and her baby. They're coming about a week after we move and will stay with us for two months. Sisay will be leaving on January 13th to do some work in Haifa for 3 weeks, so it will be so nice to have the company. Anyone else? I've got my calendar in hand.

And so we happily, oh so happily, oh so VERY happily, say goodbye to 2012: the year of endless tantrums (Violet), incessant whining (Samaya), spiraling health (me), and that period of time we'll just refer to as March-april (no, I'm not referring to a girl's name.)

Here's to new beginnings and plenty of (forced) growth. Onward and upward, shall we?  

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Happy Baha'i Christmas!


We of course do not celebrate Christmas in the traditional sense, but we thought you should know our Baha'i children had plenty to play with on Christmas morning...

fairy 'tail' princess
wheelchair

more wheelchairs (it's an obsession)
violin 


telescope
rapunzel hair 
bedside lamp



























































bathtub laptop





























While grocery shopping last week, an employee wished Samaya a 'Merry Christmas!' Without skipping a beat, she said, "Merry Christmas! We're Baha'is!" I thought she summed up our stance quite perfectly: although we do not celebrate, we are happy to share in the spirit of joy and generosity that permeates the season. 

And read Great Joy. This book makes me cry every. single. time.  

If you're interested in a more thorough explanation of the Baha'i stance on Christmas, this blog post does a lovely job.    

Monday, December 17, 2012

My Family: a book by Laurel and Samaya Sabera

Samaya and I have collaborated on our first book together:

My Family

By Laurel Sabera
Illustrated by Samaya Sabera

Thursday, November 22, 2012

On (home)schooling

So I posted a video on facebook a couple days ago of Samaya identifying countries on our giant map of the world.

It seems that people have been led to believe that this has something to do with homeschooling or is at least somehow connected to ME teaching HER. I assure you it does not. Yes, we stay at home a lot together. Yes, we have at least twice consciously and deliberately sat down for 'circle time,' to get our calendar on, sing some songs, and brainstorm lists of 'A' words. But all the days in between...mostly consist of me in the kitchen and the girls fending for themselves. I mean...learning to work/play together peacefully in a structured environment. And by structured I mean minimal, mostly wooden toys, a play kitchen, (too) many books, TV (yes, TV), access to basic art materials, and a distinct lack of multiples. This is mostly because we're too...um...frugal to fork over the money for two of everything, but is also because it forces communication and cooperation. It also exponentially increases violence, but Samaya has so much hair that cleaning up a few tufts from the living room floor each evening won't cost her much we figure. We hope. 

I do have hopes of homeschooling and have had them for a while, but if we're going to be truthful most of the schooling that takes place around here is in the form of Violet walking around the house naked except for a backpack full of books. The script goes something like this:

Violet: 'Bye! 'Cool, k?'
Me: 'Ok! Have a great day. Are you taking the bus today?
Violet: 'Yeah. Keys? (holding out a hand. She's also the bus driver.)
Me: 'Here you go. Drive safely.'
Violet: 'K.' (Sits in chair making (bus?) noises and rolling her hands around. Jumps down.) 'Ready!'
(Then she disappears to the bedroom for a good 20 minutes, spreads all her books out on the bed, pulls up the covers, and reads each one.)
Violet: (running into the room) 'Back! Home!'
Me: 'Welcome home! How was your day?
Violet: 'Gook.' (I'm pretty sure she doesn't mean anything derogatory here.)
Me: 'What did you learn?'
Violet: 'AB.'

And then she usually goes to nurse her baby. Which, as it turns out, is so much easier to do when you're naked. And hey, at least somebody got their after-school snack.

It's funny how even the very young absorb this traditional version of school even when their own learning environment bares no resemblance. And if it's not called homeschooling quite yet, we surely do have a learning environment. Last night Samaya told me I don't go to school anymore. I am too old. I promptly told her that 'school' is just a place where we learn, and I learn everywhere I go. Therefore, I am always at school.

We learn on our weekly trip to the grocery store: budgeting, healthy food choices, courtesy and friendliness toward the cashiers, and how to distinguish Ethiopian coffee from Guatemalan coffee (What? Your kids don't sample the freshly brewed complimentary coffee at Trader Joes? That's because your kids are probably not 'eTOEpian,' Samaya will inform you.)

We learn at the library: ummm...what can you NOT learn at the library. Plus the look of pride on Violet's face when she puts her orange leaf on the felt board and runs back to Mommy is priceless.

We learn at our weekly Music Together class. You know, about rhythm and math and stuff. I'm sure someone could explain how music is great for brain development, but that someone ain't gonna be me. I just know it's pretty much the highlight of our week and for an hour every Friday morning I can guarantee I will be completely present and engaged with my children.

We learn outside: about our bodies in relation to the world around us, about ecosystems and their intersections, about seasons (and most recently the orbital patterns of the earth), and about the power of nature to calm. center. hold us accountable. make us present. (It's also the perfect opportunity to discuss where we go when we die and why 'knife' starts with 'k.')

And we learn in the kitchen.  Measuring, pouring, cutting, mixing, taking turns, the process from garden to table, LOTS of conversations about health, and the essential but grossly under-taught skill of putting good food on the table. Do you like your eggs on the crunchy side? I might be willing to loan Violet out for a small fee.


And heaven forbid we forget the School of Youtube. I often ask Samaya over breakfast what her plans are for the day and what she wants to learn. Last week we spent the morning watching videos of chickens laying eggs (thank you Jane Goodall) and spiders spinning webs because that was what she happened to be wondering about. 

THIS. This right here is what I believe to be the secret of education: Pay attention to what they wonder about. Do your best to answer their questions. If you don't know, find out together and let them be part of the process of discovering something new. Observe their play. Then jump through those windows of opportunity before they are replaced by new ones. 

I still believe in planning. I strongly believe in a weekly and daily rhythm. It's just that my "students" always come first. If the elaborate art project I finally got around to organizing isn't flying or Violet decides to have a colossal meltdown when it's time to leave for music or I think Samaya is ready to work on ending consonants and she's not, then I remind myself to graciously accept the lesson in detachment, pay closer attention to them, and try again. 

Or stop trying for a bit and take a field trip. Which is how the map was born. In September we finally got around to going to the Children's Museum after weeks of begging, only to find they were closed for their annual cleaning. So we went to the toy store across the street and bought a giant world map instead. I hung it in our tiny little kitchen because there was nowhere else to put it, not realizing what an utterly genius and obviously well-thought-out move this was. Not only did I choose the perfect location (Mama is always here), but my timing was impeccable. No, we weren't just about to start a unit on geography. We weren't about to travel abroad. But we do live at Green Acre Baha'i School where people from all over the world come to serve and attend programs. Samaya is old enough now to form attachments to all these people, and when they return home we find their countries on the map. She isn't randomly memorizing meaningless facts. She genuinely cares that Anisa was born in Japan but lives in the Czech Republic now. She knows her Aunt Julia lived in Argentina for a year and Duarte just returned to his home in Cape Verde. And of course that her Daddy is from Ethiopia. That she, herself, is Ethiopian. The world has become personal to her. 

So we're taking this opportunity. This precious and  critical opportunity to nurture her identity as a world citizen. In the words of Baha'u'llah, the founder of the Baha'i Faith, "The earth is but one country, and mankind its citizens." We want her to feel that. Know that. Breathe that. And act on that. 

So yes, Samaya can tell where Estonia is. But it's not because of a worksheet or a puzzle or even a book. It's because a sweet little friend in our library story time is from there. And we thought to ask. And then run home and find it on our map. 





Sunday, October 28, 2012

A story told in two voices

It's been 3 1/2 months since I posted here so I thought it timely for another considering it's 6 AM on October 28th. My sweet darlings have been waking up at 5 lately and it's making me exceedingly depressed and ornery, so I thought writing would be a better alternative to being a spiteful mother. I'll probably do both.
Let me tell you a story this morning. Samaya overheard my retelling of this as well, so we'll take turns telling our own versions.

 Me: Years ago (I can't believe I just said that. What am I, 64?) when I was landscaping for the summer, we were working at a long-time customer's home.

Samaya: Once when Mommy was 6 she was land-skating. You know, when you jump and land when you're skating.

Me: The customer decided that it was probably about time to remove a pile of debris that had been on their front porch, mostly consisting of a few years' worth of old Christmas trees.

Samaya: Then she picked up a big Christmas tree. She's really strong.

Me: We removed most of it with shovels. I bent down to pick up the last of it with my gloved hands and picked up a bee's nest as a nice little bonus.

Samaya: There were needles in it and the tree stung her a lot of times. It hurt.

Me: I got stung all over my hand. It hurt.  



Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Sisters

My dad wrote this poem years ago for my sister and I. He read it at Julia's wedding last July (almost a year ago!) It was an impossibly sweet moment.

Two Sisters

Two sisters snacking on strawberry twisters
Dreaming of future misters
Two sisters playing on the sandy shore
Dreaming about the land of more
Two sisters sailing far away
Dreaming about their wedding day
Two sisters praying in the Holy Shrine
And me dreaming of when they were wholly mine


I choose not to imagine my own daughters building homes of their own somewhere in the world because I'd like to nurse the illusion that at least for a little while they are wholly mine. When I tell Sisay that I can't bare the thought of them leaving us, he says, 'I can. When they are grown, I will take you traveling around the world. And we can sleep through the night." I'm pretty sure the emphasis was on the second part, and I do hope that happens before they fly the nest. As for the traveling--I'm game. We've traveled around the world with them, and it's not all it's cracked up to be. (I know this defies a core belief of a good friend of mine. Sorry Deanna.) Then again, maybe it would be slightly different if I wasn't nursing both of them and we hadn't decided to lug a 23 lb. car seat to the horn of Africa. And then not use it. It was most definitely worth it. I just don't want to do it again for a very long time. 

So. Sisters. Certainly the best part of my life right now is basking in their complete and utter love for each other. This is not to say that we live in some sort of sibling utopia. Far from it. 'No!' and 'NNNNNNNNnnnnnnnO!' and also 'AHHHHHHHHHHH!' are probably the three most common words in our house. They are uttered by Samaya--when Violet takes her stuff (which is every time she has stuff) or when Violet is attempting to remove a large chunk of her hair simply for the entertainment value of it. 

And they are uttered by Violet every time Samaya moves in a way that could be interpreted as 'in her general direction' while she is in the possession of stuff, or when she is being restrained/hugged by her big sister. Or when she's itching to be contrary.
 
But there are so many moments of pure, unadulterated love. First, there are the hand-in-hand morning walks. Violet's request of "we!", small hand outstretched, inevitably brings Samaya to her side. We are not exactly sure how 'we' came to mean 'hold my hand,' but I do believe a more fitting word could not exist. Then there are the eerily quiet moments that could only mean two things--either someone's playing in the toilet water again or a rare moment of sibling harmony is taking place. In the (grateful) case of the latter, I can usually find them snuggled up in the book corner or on my bed, Samaya reading to a captive audience. Usually this launches into what is fondly referred to in our house as 'bed bed,' which consists mostly of snuggling under the covers, pretending to sleep, and giggling. Lots of giggling. 

At meal times, I often find them feeding each other and lately they have even been playing with the same toy in a civilized manner. Samaya will assign Violet the role of handing her the pieces and half the time she actually does. The other half of the time she makes a run for it, laughing maniacally with a puzzle piece clutched tightly in her fist. 

This afternoon during a thunderstorm, I sat on the couch nursing Violet. Samaya sat beside us reading a book. Thunder rumbled in the distance and, without looking up, she reached an arm around Violet's head and cupped a hand over her ear. We looked at each other then, and she matter-of-factly explained, "For the funder, Mommy. I don't want her to be scared." And then she turned the page.

Daily life these days usually leaves me strung out, but every day, more and more, I am so grateful that they are close in age. The developmental gap is still wide, but it is slowly closing. And I imagine once they both can talk and SHARE life will be so much sweeter. They get each other. They play. They connect. They love. They get angry too, but isn't it nice to have someone in your life you can give a good whack to every now and then and your relationship is none the worse for it? 

Here's to unconditional love, sister style.