Thankfulness Tree

Last year we started a new Thanksgiving tradition. Inspired by the many variations of this project I've seen around the web, we made a Thankfulness Tree. Instead of just going around the table at Thanksgiving dinner and answering the proverbial "what are you thankful for?" question, we spend the weeks leading up to the holiday itself writing down our gratitudes. Last year I made a huge paper tree that I taped in the front window, and we all wrote down what we're thankful for on paper leaves and taped them up too. Simple, and the end result was quite lovely.



This year I decided to get a little more 3D, and we brought some fallen branches inside to make a Thankfulness Tree that felt, well, a little more tree-like. We anchored them in a large vase with pebbles, and ta-da! An indoor tree.



The kids started right away making leaves and apples to hang on the tree. So far we are thankful for:



trains



friends



and pumpkin seeds. Sowing the seeds of seasonal gratitude early, I tell ya.

I love this project because it harnesses so much that I love about Thanksgiving in general. All of us -- and I certainly include myself in this group -- tend to spend far too much mental energy fretting about all that is wrong in our lives and in our world. Thanksgiving offers us the opportunity to reflect on all that is right, and take a moment to appreciate the gift of that rightness.

And when your household includes a newly-minted seven-year-old who has a tendency to dissolve into a rage when her sock seams can actually be felt, a little perspective can be just what the frazzled mother ordered.

Where do you go to school?

It's that time.

Kindergarten. We got a little extra time due to a fall birthday, but this fall my five-year-old and her friends will be marching off to kindergarten.



It just turns out that our girl won't be marching all that far.

The kitchen table, to be exact.

Yes, while our eldest is gearing up to begin her senior year in high school, we have decided to homeschool the kindergartner.

Some days I'm overwhelmed by what I've taken on, but I am also truly exhilarated by the possibilities. I am so excited about this journey we've begun. It seems such a natural extension of our family culture, that it's funny to think how biased I was against homeschooling just a few years ago.

Just one of the many benefits I've seen so far: continuity. I know exactly what it is my girl is working on, what she needs to practice, and the learning comes with us wherever we go.



All the way to the woods and the sea.

Making Friends with Carnivores

My two younger children are born naturalists. They greet each bug, each flower, each bird, and each weed with a spirit of fascination and wonder. They eagerly observe and study the world around them.

But they are also children. Which means it is not enough to observe the praying mantis we found in the bushes by the hose -- they want to make him their pet. We often have these temporary additions to the menagerie, but I try to make sure that after a few days, their new friend gets released back into the wild. In the meantime, my hard-and-fast rule is you may not keep anything unless you are able to feed it the right food. So once we have a new friend in the bug habitat, off we troop to the kitchen computer to find out what it is and what it eats.

"Okay, guys, it says here that praying mantises are carnivorous. That means they eat other bugs. The really big ones even eat frogs, lizards, birds, and small rodents. This one's small, so he'll eat smaller insects."

There's a pause as this sinks in. "So... we'll have to catch bugs to feed it?"

I'm thinking this will be a dead-end. Bugs are friends, thus they cannot also be lunch for a praying mantis. I'm even thinking she may have some harsh words for her praying mantis "friend," for his heartlessness in eating such adorable creatures as ladybugs.

But no. Off she troops to the garden to find prey. She knows exactly what she can feed her new friend without remorse, the perfect snack for her fastidious friend.



Cabbage worms. I tell you, kids who garden are nothing if not practical.

Eventually, though, it was hard to catch enough bugs for our voracious little buddy. We decided that the praying mantis himself was surely a much better insect-hunter than we could ever hope to be. So we set him free. In the garden, where he can be a force for good, snacking on aphids and cabbage worms.

But surely not ladybugs.

This post is part of the Moms' 30-Minute Blog Challenge, hosted by Jamie at SteadyMom.

The Magic of Butterflies

What is it that is so captivating about butterflies? Why are children young and old so entranced with them?



The obvious answer is their remarkable transformation. Metamorphosis is one of nature's most grandiose and extravagant miracles. It is incredible in the truest sense... you seriously cannot believe your eyes, when you get the chance to see it occur.

But also I think it's because they are so fleeting. Their lives are so short, and so tied to the seasons -- the first butterfly is the truest harbinger of Spring. And caterpillars are so accessible. They are easy to find (in their season), and they will crawl all over your arm and tickle you and you can watch them munch leaves.

We have found ourselves quite smitten with butterflies lately. First, there was the tent caterpillar we found at the park. We brought it home to observe it, and placed it in one of our bug-studying habitats. It was so active and had such interesting markings. I was looking forward to trying to get a good photo of it, but surprise! we woke up in the morning to find it had formed a cocoon. And about two weeks later, we woke up to find the cocoon empty. (Sadly, I didn't get a good picture of the moth either. It's so annoying when nature won't comply with my compulsive need to document everything!)



Then we ordered some painted lady caterpillars. They were so tiny and still when they arrived, I thought for sure they had died in transit. But no, they ate their food and grew and pooped and ate their food and grew and pooped, exactly as the enclosed pamphlet said they would.



And they formed chrysalises! And then... they emerged. As butterflies! Beautiful, active, sugar-water-drinking butterflies. They were amazing. We observed them for a few days, and then released them to allow them to complete their life cycle out in the world.



We watched them fly away, and then noticed that this one hadn't gone far. "Look!" I called the five-year-old over, "Look, that one's still right there in the grass!" No sooner had she identified that particular butterfly as her favorite, the one she had dubbed "Late Rose" because it had been the last to emerge from its chrysalis, than we watched as a gray catbird swooped down and caught it in its beak.


Seconds before the catbird swooped in.

Usually, my girl is very matter-of-fact about these things, but this time, she cried. She yelled at the catbird. And then she convinced herself that perhaps that wasn't Late Rose at all, it was some other butterfly who just happened to be there, some other butterfly that she hadn't raised. Whatever helps you sleep at night, kid.

So we were very excited to get to see the butterfly show at the Krohn Conservatory on our recent trip to Cincinnati. It was an amazing display, highlighting butterflies of Japan. First we got to see the butterfly nursery.



Then we entered a room that was literally filled with butterflies, and we each held a silk flower dipped in nectar and hoped that one would land on ours.

They were so incredibly beautiful.



We stood very still. We willed them to come to us.



Over here, butterflies!



And then... magic.



Happily, my yard is full of these beautiful pollinators right now. Butterflies, like bees, are essential to our ecosystem. There are lots of easy ways to make sure your garden is attractive to these colorful visitors -- the National Wildlife Federation has a helpful guide.

After all, we all need a little magic in our lives.