Stuff, mainly unrelated

Well, I have a mountain of laundry to fold, but I wanted to check in with you, by which I mean, of course, reflect for my own purposes with little consideration given to my audience.

Last night we went on the Sacred Heart Christmas home tour, which is always fun and is a family tradition. Zadie was kind of a butthead for the first two houses, but then we had a talk and she got better. She was particularly interested in some mannequins in one of the houses. I was enchanted by the ideas of "outdoor living" presented by some of the homes. There were many covered decks and pergolas with beautiful outdoor furniture, ceiling fans, fireplaces, pizza ovens... sigh.

Some of the decorations were really eye-catching. One was super-glittery/shimmery/spangly/sparkly and in a very art deco fashion. Another was all made of natural materials, like lilies wired to branches and persimmons piled in vases.

But you know, tonight we decorated our house. There's no theme. Our tree has ballerinas, Alice, G.I. Joes, PowerPuff Girls, Shakespeare, and is topped by Marvin the Martian. It is, as tradition dictates, quite lopsided. The place is lousy with nutcrackers. But you know, it's so pretty I kind of want to cry. And none of those other houses made me feel like that.


Hey, also? We made milkshakes, and I think that is going to have to be a new tradition. I mean, cocoa and cider are awesome, but milkshakes? The bomb!

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A few days ago, when we were home sick, we walked to Trader Joe's. Zadie loves to push their "customer in training" carts, and I like it, too, because then she's sort of contained. Anyway, the three of us were walking around the aisles, and Sweetie and I were picking things up and putting them in the little cart. At one point, Zadie walked away from the cart, walked straight to a bag of popcorn (one of her favorite treats), and put it in the cart, just as we had been doing. I had an impulse, and I was briefly of two minds. First of all, I am firmly of the belief that my kid is darn cute, and watching her make her little purchase was frickin' adorable. But my parenting impulse was of the "no-no" variety. I was thinking that a responsible parent would set limits. Kids can't just put things in the cart at will. They need to ask, to get permission, to understand that choosing groceries is a grown-up thing. But I suppressed all that and decided not to say anything. There was something I was proud of about her action. I mean, she wasn't being sneaky and she wasn't begging. She was just a part of our family, and our family was out shopping, choosing things to take home. She had agency, and she had power within the family, and she knew her choices were respected. I am cool with that.

I sometimes struggle with parenting. I mean, not just on the days she won't nap. With parenting philosophy. You know, I really like attachment parenting, but I can't get too gung-ho about it -- she LIKED the swing, and I was personally done breastfeeding before she was. I also don't want her to grow up in such a touchy-feely/loving/everything-you-do-is-awesome environment that the first time she stabs someone with a pencil at school, she is surprised by negative reactions to it. Some of the parenting articles I read say you shouldn't tell them to say thank you, or encourage them to express appreciation for presents they don't like. There's this assumption that if you value their real feelings, then they'll develop empathy on their own and want to say thank you sincerely as they grow older. That's awesome, I guess, but kids who are old enough to talk about the indricotherium at the Academy of Sciences are old enough to say thank you, even insincerely.

Anyway, so I read, and I talk to people, and I end up mostly winging it. But on Thursday she got her treat of popcorn because she knew she was part of the family, and today she put laundry in the washer because it was family cleaning day, and she knew she was part of the family. I think we're on the right track.