I wrote this post about a year ago here on the blog and wow, what a difference a year makes. This post sounds like I am depressed, stressed, anxious, and just plain unhappy. Maybe I really was. But now working on diet and exercise, focusing on relationships and accepting imperfection has brought me around 180 degrees. Today is a no-TV day. And we are surviving. With much more patience. Time is just time. More clutter. There is always clutter, just like the stack of books in this photo. And more intentional love. Love for God. Love for my family. And love for me. I am thankful for a look-back to see just how far I have come. Here is to all of us growing up a bit more (who says any of us are truly “grow-up.”)

In an effort to get to a simpler family lifestyle I decided to turn off the TV at my house for a week. I have read in numerous places that television isn’t good for young brains. The studies I have seen say that the fast paced, void-of-context, idea imagery confuses developing brains under age of 2. Additionally, children become more sedentary when they watch many hours of television each week and this can be a factor in our juvenile obesity trend today.

As a child I remember watching Public Broadcasting Stations like Sesame Street, Mr. Rogers, and The Electric Company. We weren’t allowed to watch more than a few hours of television a day, and never allowed to watch network sitcom type shows. Although I have a serious gap in my knowledge of popular culture, playing away from the set did open the door to explore so many other activities.

As a mom, I admit it, I am guilty of letting my children watch too much television. Last week I decided to turn off the television set cold-turkey and see what happened. My 3 year old went from watching programs many hours a day to zero hours a day. What did I learn? In a nut shell, I learned I have just been lazy and that I need to start entertaining my kids more.

What did the kids do? They painted pictures, colored with crayons, played with play dough, read books, went to the library, went to a cousin’s house for a play date, went to the park for a play date, baked and frosted cupcakes, played in the tub, played in the sink, walked to the playground, played in the dirt, went shopping for groceries, went to grandmother’s house, played in the pantry, and visited with the physical therapist at home. (This is another preemie baby update.) Both children were pretty happy with no television. I asked my son in the middle of the week if he’d like to read a book or watch a program, and he picked the book. A couple of times my son asked for a show or a movie, but I simply said,” no, we are going to go to X,Y,Z,” or “you have plenty of toys, why don’t you play with the blocks” and he didn’t fuss.

Now, you ask, what did I do all week. I changed each kid’s outfit at least once a day. Cleaned up pee and poop — not in a diaper. Washed a baby’s belly that was covered in paint and her mouth which was also covered in paint. I acted as an on-demand artist and sculpture because my son doesn’t understand, “you can make that yourself.” I cleaned up paint spilled on the floor, on the carpet, and on the walls. I cleaned flour, sugar, and icing sprinkles from the floor, under my counter appliances and on my son’s shirt. And put back the things pulled out from the pantry, the toys strewn across the floor (the 3 year old refuses to clean up, and his toys were subsequently taken away), crayon and play dough that were mysteriously were smashed into the carpet (we need hardwood floors). I also served as a chauffeur of course and a short-order chef (those packed-lunches-on-the-go that they don’t even eat….sigh.) On top of this, I did a tiny bit of blogging, vacuumed, managed to get dinner on the table and cleaned up, did laundry, made some appointments, balanced our checkbook, purged some papers, and cleaned out the pantry and the fridge. (I wonder how this as a job description would go.)

The kids loved the activities, but how did I like the week? I hated the week. Helping my kids grow and learn gives me great joy. But I don’t love the whining, the pulling, and the messes that simply make more work for me. I wish I had a back yard and I could just put them out to pasture. I wish my daughter could walk so I could just let them play outside together while I worked on another outdoor project. And I wish I had more strength and energy to physically do more. (This is also another post.) The grass is always greener on the other side? (Let me post script this by saying, I adore all moms and dads out there who are able to do this many activities with your children and feel spiritually full. Any tips on how I can change my perspective?)

So, what are we going to do now? I am going to let them watch a couple of their favorite shows but also schedule more activities for them. Scheduling for me is simply having a few ideas of projects we are going to do that day, like coloring, play dough play, or cooking. I am going to work on my personal health in hopes that I will gain the energy and strength I need to feel I can do more.

Are you feeling that you are relying on television to help entertain your children? What activities do you do with your family that aren’t television related? I’d like to hear your thoughts. Leave a comment here and share with others! Happy Organizing.

There are times when I swear I am turning into my mother. Do you get that feeling ever? I say things that are in her likeness, like “be safe” when my husband leaves for work. I worry about the same things for my children that she worried about for me and my sibling. “Oh, you aren’t getting enough exercise outdoors.” And perhaps the most striking to me is that we are creatures who seek more and more of the same things.

My mom was always “way into healthy living.” I mean whole grains before this was “in-fashion.” Forgoing over the counter medications and turning to natural remedies. She preferred organic vegetables and raw milk on our table and didn’t use harsh cleaning products in our home or chemical-filled cosmetics.

Now that I have children, I too am seeking a similar healthier lifestyle for my household. I mop my floors with white vinegar and water. I choose put natural ingredients in our bodies and on our skin. And as the one who does most of the purchasing, I choose more green, sustainable, healthy products.

I haven’t always been so inclined to think about health and eco-sustainability. In my younger days, commercial and mass-popular was the way I went. This switch here is a slow process that requires a lot of effort for me, but we are making baby steps. I wonder if she felt the same.

I remember my mother doing her photography. She had one of those old-fashioned cameras with a beautiful wooden frame on a tripod, and you dip under the sheet cover to peek at the shot (which is up-side down.) She would take classes, trek out to weird locations to take her shots, like that old-fashioned coke machine abandoned in a near-by hay field, and then go back into her dark-room to develop. I never understood her passion until now. Perhaps my misunderstanding was in part because as a child model posing wasn’t that much fun, or very comfortable. I was prickly, cold, twisted, unbalanced, hot, full of sand, hay, or mosquito bites, and otherwise just uncomfortable. But the shots came out well.

Now that I sew, embroider, knit, applique, felt, and otherwise craft, I can understand why she loved so much creating something for only herself and her sanity. I feel accomplished, at peace, and proud, when I sit down at my sewing machine to whip up a few grocery totes, or a dress, or a new stuffed lovie for my children. I gain perspective on what is important in life and what I can let go of when I am knitting those stitches one at a time. And the looks on my children’s faces when they ask “is that for me mommy” and I nod “yes” just makes my heart swell up so.

Designing, constructing, and creating is something I have been doing since before I can remember. (I have pictures.) In elementary school, without knowing it, I did batik, candle making, natural fabric dying, clay sculpture, drawing, painting, block printing, silk screening, and so much more. Perhaps my mother picked my school because she knew how wonderful it felt to create something unique.

I am adopted so my mother and I share no genetic relationship. Is it just gene-pool luck we have come to love many of the same things, or is it a mother-daughter thing? Or perhaps something I learned from a very special, and accomplished, model of artistry?