Yoga, Knitting, Kids

Me: (wrestling with five double pointed needles as I start the sleeve of Lyla's jumper) Arrgh
Q: Do you actually enjoy knitting, Kath? It seems to annoy you and then you never seem particularly happy with the result.
Me: (now even more irritated) That's not true, I love knitting and I think I'm getting quite a bit better and I'm usually pretty happy with what I make.
Q: Ummmm, ok.
Me: Bleurgh!! (throws knitting to one side, stomps off to get a glass of wine)

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Damn triangle pose


The next morning I grumpily drag myself to yoga, I'm stiff and out of shape, I struggle to get into the poses and I have to force myself not to just give up and walk out.

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We have decided to keep Lyla at the Schoolhouse for another year, but we are already thinking about the numerous kindergarten options (first world problems, which kindergarten should we choose!). I've been thinking a lot recently about the philosophy of the Schoolhouse, how they believe children learn best through play.  Their focus is on the process over the product.  The art projects she brings home are huge splodges of colour, scribbles, stories that are a stream of consciousness, everything is completely her.  There are no hand print turkeys, no Thanksgiving work sheets or anything that an adult would ooh and aah over.  It's all about her exploring, discovering, learning so much.  I don't think she has an end result in mind when she is doing these activities, or if she does, it is secondary to just the pure enjoyment of it.  The splashes of paint all over her, the mud squelches between her fingers, the crazy combination of sand and bubbles in the warm North Carolina November rain. 

How sad to lose that, to learn to sit in a little row of chairs, completing worksheets, listening to your teacher talk at you.  Only half an hour of music this week, budget cuts.  Alright, now we are going to paint turkeys, no not like that, use this colour instead.  We force the joy of the process out of our kids and out of ourselves. We are so focused on the end product and when we finally reach it, it is never good enough.  So here's to savouring the small, every day things, to meeting yourself exactly where you are, to enjoying the feel of soft wool in your hands, muscles stretching just a little bit farther, mud pies and little kids remaining little kids for just a bit longer.