Everyday life

This photo is taken in Nienoord, a fabulous park where children can play and ride in trains. Pelle is going from the slides, all on his own!

Three times' right

I’ve been sewing some T-shirts, lately, but they didn’t work out.
I tried to make a button-placket in a sleeveless one, but the directions in the Ottobre were too sparse, and I don't have sewinglessons at the moment. It didn’t work out.


It's hard to see on the photo, but the stripes of fabric are crooked and I had to make them longer, to make ends meet (I found out later).
I will try again, because I want to master the technique. I subscribe to a Dutch instruction-site on the web, where they have video-instructions, and that was very clear. The only thing is, that they combine the placket with a collar, and I don’t want to do that. A polo-shirt is to formal for my taste. So I still have to figure out how to make a neat finish where the placket and neckline meet. And of course I can always ask my sewing teacher, in September.

Laying the yellow one aside, I started making another sleeveless T, to combine with the short I made earlier. Wrong again. The neckline is way to wide.



And it needs another touch to it. Don’t know what, but I will cut things up and make something different. Or maybe add a hood.

So onto T-shirt # 3. There’s a Dutch saying, that three times' right. Used the basic pattern from Ottobre again, had to recut the neckline (unpicked that one twice) but now have a good fit I can use for one year, I hope.



Than the fun part began, because I had this green scrap of cotton from my mum, who quilts. A perfect match. Because of the colour, I thought a marsian would look nice. So I did some sketches, based on images from the web, and this little monster came out. I used buttons for eyes, as I had seen on Flickr. A few scraps of felt to finish it of, and I think this is becoming one of my favorites.



Onto the next project. A familiar one. The sailor-pant I made twice before. No need to try things out (refreshing sigh).

A change in perspective

The core of the son-rise philosophy is to embrace and love your child. Unconditionally. And it immediately spoke to me because I loved this vision. No labels. No judgments. It gives you such freedom. And I have to make clear that I’m no expert. I don’t know all the ins and outs of the method. Because I haven’t followed any courses, yet. In September, I will, but I just don’t want to wait playing and applying the principles.
So how can I embrace Pelle being hyperactive? I really liked what Jen suggested in her comment. Using the high-energy into a game of running.
Thinking it through, and writing about it with Maria, who’s becoming my sparing-partner in the son-rise process, I switched glasses. Because for Pelle, it’s a pure form of enjoying life. It’s all about excitement. And that’s a part in me that I don’t show very often. As a child, I was always rewarded for being calm. For not asking to much attention. For being quiet, especially if grown-ups were in the room. And of course, as an adult, you’re supposed to behave in a mature way. But I can feel excitement, and joy, and I can sing and mostly, when I’m really happy, I want to move. Be on the bike and sing. Pedaling as hard as I can. Letting this happiness flow through my body and express it. Dance.
And if I look through my happiness glasses, I see a boy who’s just doing that. Expressing it all. And from now on, I’m joining him. So we can share all those vibrations.

One step at the time

The game didn’t work out. It is to hard for Pelle to do something that requires rules, although they are quite simple. So if I want him to imitate, I a) either have to find another way or b) can use the cards, but in a more free-flowing form.
For now, it is even hard for him to be in the room. Maybe because it’s all so new for him, maybe because he feels I want him to do more than he is comfortable with. Because my ideal is for him to be concentrating on toys. But yesterday for instance, he was far to hyperactive to do that. So we went outside, and he had a meltdown there. Wanting to go home, and I wanting to stay a little longer at the small field, playing with a kite. (I really enjoyed that myself).
He doesn’t have tantrums that often, and I can handle his cries and yells and tears, and console him, but apparently, it was just to much for him.
So there are some lessons learned.
I should not aim to high. Just adjust to what he’s capable doing at the moment.
And playing with toys is not important at all. Having fun is important.
So now the challenge is to go on being in his playroom, even though I notice Pelle rather won’t. (He says he’s afraid of the sirens (horns of policecars) inthere, but we managed to chase them away with a magic wand). I think he feels I want him to “perform” in a way he’s not able to do.
And another challenge for me is to accept him being hyperactive, because I really don’t like it if he acts that way. And maybe examine if it has anything to do with him eating something sweet.

Scenes from the playroom

The playroom is Pelle's bedroom. Not that big, but sufficient.
Yesterday, we played with his mozaiek. Don't you love the pattern he laid out?
My ultimate goal is for Pelle to play with other children. He has never done that. Recently, he wants to go to his classmates, but when he's at their home, he plays with their toys, not with the children themselves. I know he has the potential to do it, and it might even evolve naturally, but I don’t want to wait for it. I’d rather help him, step by step.
The first step, and my goal for this month, is to let him get used to playing in his room. He asked about it this morning. “Why do we do this?” “Are we going to play in the livingroom, aswell?”. I answered that I loved playing with him. Maybe later on, I explain a bit more. For now he seemed satisfied with my answer. Since he was quickly bored this morning, and I don’t want to push him to stay in the room, we went downstairs. Granny came to eat the cake we baked yesterday and we also prepared the swimmingpool.



Until now, we played with his regular toys (marble slide, cars, buildingblocks), but tomorrow I want to try a game. As he loves me to imitate a lion (especially the roaring), I made some cards. He can pick one (yellow side up) and I will do my best to make an impression, so he can guess which animal it is. He can choose another card and I will make another performance as his likes it, on the condition that he does the imitation as well.



As I was making the cards and writing down some other ideas (like playing hide-and-seek), a familiar feeling came over me. It was like preparing my lessons and courses. Once you have your goal, you choose your means. And I always liked to have a few options prepared. So I have the freedom to choose the one that’s most appropriate, in the heat of the moment.
I’m wondering how Pelle will react, tomorrow.

Learning to play

Today was a special day, because it was the first time I intentionally played with Pelle using the Son-rise principle. I’ve been reading about it a couple of weeks now and think it’s a great way to help Pelle in his development. Entice him to become more agile, mentally. I know he can do that, but he can’t do the gymnastics on his own. We both need to train, in a gym called the playroom. And as it is the beginning of his holidays, and he has no school during 6 weeks, I thought it would be a great way to fill in all the blank spaces of time. But where to begin? And there was another problem. Just as Pelle has his specific behavioral patterns, so has his mom. Because I like to think, and read, and think, and read. But as it comes to action, I’m sometimes stuck, too. Like Pelle, but on a different level. So I called in for help. Today I had my own supporters, who coached me and filmed the both of us. And I really think this is the way to go for me, because it is so close to the way I’ve always been raising Pelle and connecting with him. It’s quite easy for me. But I have to go one step further. I have to show him the child that’s hidden in his mom. The little girl that’s awaiting to play with him, with joy and laughter. Who loves to be funny and cheerful. It’s time to put her on the stage. And I know she will love it. I’ve neglected her far to long. So go, little girl, go. Show your sparks to Pelle. Don’t be afraid. I know he will love them.

A prince and his father

A few weeks ago, we went to Portugal on holiday. Since I couldn’t sew in the evenings, I read a lot. This book was one of my favorites. It’s about our former Prince Bernhard, the husband of queen Juliana (the parents of our present queen, Beatrix).
I bought it, because of the author. She’s an historian and I’ve been reading an biography from her before. Frankly, I’m not that interested in our Royal family as such. But I’m interested in people. Annejet van de Zijl frankly states that Bernhard married Juliana because of the money. No romance, no love, but a desire to live the life of a playboy. And he succeeded, although there were many pitfalls along the way (Lockheed, alienating his wife who was spiritual inclined and had pacifistic ideas about the world). Instead of making a moral judgment, the author explores the past and family history of Bernhard. And that’s the most interesting part of the book. It’s a sketch of the German nobility at the beginning of the 20 the century. How they struggled to keep up their way of life and failed, after the first World War. How a way of living fell apart and status was lost. How hard it was, to survive after the Great War, especially in the Eastern part of Germany. How this all created the sentiments that led to another war and a fascist ideology. And the most interesting character in the book is not the Prince, but his father. Who marries a divorced woman, which was so not done at the time. Who’s family fortune fluctuates from very wealthy (financial aid to help exploit the Eastern part of German, revenues from American investments) to having hardly any money and being forced to seek a whole new way of earning money (after the Second World War). Up and down it went, and he had to adjust to every change in his live. The personalization of a generation and way of living that doesn’t exists anymore.

Compared to him, my life is very dull. But I can always read, to brighten it up. And get a bit more understanding about people as children of their time. Because that's the moto of the book.

A little orange.

So yesterday was the semi-finale. And I'm not an excellent partner for Mark, because I didn't watch. But I was in the room, and heard him shouting 'Oooeeh", 'ziekenhuisbal! (a lousy pass), Shoot!, shoot!, and cheering, with each goal, one fist clasping in the other hand. "Ja!!!".
In the meantime, I sewed. Something a little orange. I sewed these shorts just a couple of day ago, in a denim version and envisioned another one for the holidays. I started out with the back in blue and a batik-like cotton. To match the front, I made a border on the pockets and then decided to make a border at the hem, to tie it all in. I finished it of with a string in the waist (made from the blue fabric). By the time I made the string, we were in the final. And maybe, just maybe, I will sew something a little orange again, on Sunday. It might bring luck. And this time I will watch, together with our dearest friends.

Summer in the city

Summer in the city
Originally uploaded by oddwise

I made these shorts for Pelle because the weather reaches tropical degrees today (over 30). It's a bit big on him, his legs look so tiny!. But as it is a denim I expect him to wear these a few seasons, so they will grow on him.
The T I sewed last year.
So no orange today (he should wear that because our soccerteam is playing this afternoon) but I hope we will win from Brazil anyway.

Summer in the city
Originally uploaded by oddwise