That didn’t take long.
That didn’t take long.
Social media sucks. It wastes all our time and cheapens our interactions. It addicts our kids and ruins our attention spans. And even more serious things like controlling the public discourse through censorship and giving bigots an easy way to spew their ideas. (OK, I see the contradiction there, I don’t want censorship, but do we have to make it so damn easy for the assholes?) So yeah, social media is problematic.
But then sometimes it results in this:
People travelling together from all over the country, taking a chance on meeting what’s essentially a big group of strangers.
People who’ve met online, chatted and shared and questioned and sometimes argued, meeting in real life, finally.
People bringing Facebook connections to life in the real world, connections based on common values of trust, compassion, and finding harmony with and on our planet.
A parenting group. One of the thousands (millions, who knows) on Facebook. The group isn’t part of an official organization in any way, just a chat group. But then it becomes more than that. People from the group find ways to get together in real life when they can. Smaller local gatherings for those who are lucky enough to live near each other, and a larger gathering during the summer. This past summer one of the families in the group said hey, we’ve got room for lots of people up here, come to us!
So we did!
And let me tell you about this place! The Hjertefølger family lives here. (Hjertefølger means “Heart Follower” in Norwegian.) It’s on an island called Sandhornøya which you reach by taking a ferry from the city of Bodø. This is Northern Norway, the land of the Midnight Sun, and the Polar Night. The house is built with a material called cob and the whole house is inside a big glass dome. A shining transparent igloo which creates a warm and tranquil space inside. They don’t just have a greenhouse for their garden, they live inside one, nurturing and growing plants and children and dreams all in one big magical jumble.
As you can imagine, the house and the family have drawn lots of interest from the media both in Norway and internationally. You can read about them here (in English) and also here (in Norwegian). You can also read about their house and ideas here on their own blog (Norwegian) and there’s a lovely short documentary film about them you can watch here. They run retreats and do workshops on permaculture and vegan food and cob-building, so you can go to one of those if you’re in the neighborhood. I would if I was!
And for four days I did get to be there. For four days we got to hang out and recharge in one of the most peaceful, gorgeous places on Earth. Thirty or so families, at least twice that number of children, and the whole experience was amazingly harmonious and conflict-free. I mean, 60 kids running around camping and playing, you might expect chaos. But there was none. Instead there was fellowship and community and respect and good spirits. For a few days we got to experience what it would be like to live in that mythical village we all hear it takes to raise a child. Well, mythical for me at least, and for so many of us. Yes, we have caring people around us who help take care of our kids, but our society is so compartmentalized and institutionalized, there are too many distancing and isolating elements for a real village feeling to develop in most of the neighborhoods here where we live now. But for four days we got to be there, and feel how it could be. I’m so grateful I got the chance to be part of it!
So much of what social media gives us is negative. More input, more stress, more stuff, more greed. We don’t need that, but we do need more of this. More community. More magic. More coming together. Peace and love and rainbows. I call more of this to my life. I will build more of this into my life, through a web of internet connections or in a real-life village somewhere someday. We start small, gather and share, and then, we fix the world!
Well, a girl can dream anyway.
I have Slowness on me. Big time, like I’m wading in molasses. My son taught me this word, it’s what he says when I’m trying to rush him out the door to get to school on time, “No, I can’t move faster, I have Slowness on me. See!”. Then he moves around in super slow motion to prove his point. I’m not sure if he learned this word somewhere, probably a video game or some superhero story. Just guessing, based on source information for most of the random stuff he throws into our conversations these days. But I’m also pretty sure he thinks it’s a real expression, another example of his “creative” English skills. And it’s obviously a real phenomenon, everyone with kids knows they get Slowness on them instantly when you use magic words like “hurry”or “late”.
But wherever this Slowness word comes from, I have it on me, for sure. Which may seem odd because I do tons of stuff every day, like every mom. (And yes, I know, some dads.) This house would fall apart without me. I’m busy all the time. From the moment I get up until the moment I drop at night. Keeping up with the basic housework, laundry, dishes, making food, getting people where they need to go with what they need to take with them. And so on.
The tired old housewife rant (in my case tired and old can refer to both the housewife and the rant) –
“Hello dear, what did you do today?”
“Uh, um, I can’t remember,
I roll out of bed, make the food, change the diapers, wash, clean and sort all the stuff. And most of the time I remember the dentist appointments and birthday parties too.
But when it comes to the “extra” things, the things I want to do for myself, Slowness. Molasses. Small tasks, little projects, messages to answer, letters to write, these things get pushed down the list until after that.. and after that.. and, sigh, after that too… and ok, well, maybe after the kids are sleeping. Ah, finally, everyone’s asleep, ah, sleep, that’s a good idea. Good night. The Slowness wins another day.
This didn’t just start now. I still catch myself thinking I have a newborn. I’ve been planning to write down her birth story, but I haven’t yet even though it’s been a “plan” in the back of my mind almost every day since she was born. She’s 15 months old now. And that message from a good friend I’m gonna get to just as soon as I find a moment to sit down and relax and focus my thoughts, I note with shame has been sitting unanswered for 8 months now. (And not just that one, there’s a whole list of them.) To do lists upon to do lists, written and rewritten, never getting done. And this isn’t my first postpartum rodeo. It’s pretty standard for me in the months and years after each baby, so I’m up to more than a decade (14 years in November, but who’s counting) of slogging through Slowness now.
I guess I should be used to it, but it still drives me nuts, and I’m feeling extra slow this Autumn. I have so many ideas and plans right now, but I only get these ten minute windows here and there to actually focus on them. (And I spend a ridiculous number of those ten minute windows gazing absentmindedly out actual windows, gah!) In my head, especially while driving, I’m racing around, getting this done and that written and all those things sewn and sorted and built. Man if I could do things telekinetically my life would be awesome! Although telekinesis itself would be so awesome I probably wouldn’t care anymore about having curtains that were sewn up to the right length, or all my photo books for the last 10 years sorted and sent off to the printer. But right now I care, I want curtains that fit my windows and photo books of my kids. Amongst other things.
Is it too much to want to feel on top of things? To feel efficient? Yeah, probably. I do try to lower my expectations, practice self-forgiveness, be grateful for the little things. I do. But some days I’d just like to go to bed feeling like, yeah, hey, check check check, the To Do list is Done.
Like I said, I’ve come to accept that things slow down in the months (years) after a baby. Accepting this and really forgiving myself for all I never do has been key to keeping my sanity through many a postpartum year. But there comes a time when forgiving yourself for not getting things done turns into just never doing anything. Hard to hold your head high and be proud of your accomplishments when you don’t really have any to speak of. (Yes, I’m proud of being a Mom and all it entails, but I have so many other ideas too!) I’m ready for an upswing now, my baby is 15 months old, the energy-rebound is just around the corner, right? It must be. But it seems to be taking longer than usual. Maybe because I’m 42 this time. Or because 5 kids and a big old house full of half-done renovation projects is just that hectic. Maybe the Slowness is here to stay this time.
Or maybe tomorrow you’ll be the one who gets an answer to that email you wrote me two years ago.
And I’ll sew up those curtains.
And actually publish this blog post.
Take that, Slowness! Pow pow.
-Remember yesterday when we were on the shop?
-Batman are my favorite!
-Today at school we had a try. (a test)
My son’s English is charming. He has creative grammar and makes lots of mistakes. He superimposes English words onto Norwegian grammar, or translates directly to English from Norwegian. My kids are bilingual with Norwegian and English as their mother tongues, but Norwegian has become the dominant language in our house. They hear English from me, when I remember to speak it to them, and when we’re in social situations where switching to English every time we addressed each other wouldn’t be weird or rude, and of course from tv and movies. Other than that they hear Norwegian. They understand English but speak with Norwegian accents and make mistakes here and there. Many a fellow expat has let me know this is all my fault, as I’ve failed at holding the One Parent One Language rule. When raising bilingual children what language you use when you talk to your kids is just one more checkmark on the list of Things You Can and Probably Will Do Wrong.
There are so many rules and expectations about this. I’m not supposed to speak to them in Norwegian because I’ll teach them my bad accent and grammar. And I’m supposed to always speak to them in English (my mother tongue) to give them a full heart language in the language of their mother. (The guilt! My children don’t share a heart language with me, if that’s not a mama failure I don’t know what is.) According to some I’m supposed to go so far as to refuse to answer them if they speak to me in Norwegian, waiting in stoic silence until they say it in English. (Can you imagine this approach with an overtired three-year old? What joy this would add to our family life!) On the other hand I’m supposed to help them in their daily life at the Norwegian school and Norwegian activities with their Norwegian coaches and parent-teacher meetings with their Norwegian teachers, and model normal polite behavior out in society (Norwegian), and have normal social interactions with all the children and adults in our neighborhood and community who are, you guessed it, Norwegian. Plus integrate into the society myself, you know, to be a happy, normal, social-functioning adult which helps me model happy, normal social behavior to them. And I’m supposed to do all this whilst never speaking Norwegian directly to my own children. Does Not Compute.
But I hear this again and again. Expats worried and upset at the fact that their children who grow up here don’t speak English perfectly, or (gasp) have a Norwegian accent when they speak it. I just can’t relate. It doesn’t bother me that my children have Norwegian accents when they speak English. I think it’s fine that Norwegian is essentially their first language. I can’t get worked up about this “problem” because having Norwegian as one’s first language is actually in fact not a problem at all. And one-size-fits-all rules about how we should be interacting annoy me.
Kids, my kids at least, are efficient. Not in the sense that they focus on a task and jump to it when I say they should do something (I wish!), but in the sense that they don’t use brain space to force things which aren’t necessary. When we’re around people who don’t speak Norwegian (family from the US visiting, for example) they suddenly produce English, with varying degrees of charmingness, but as soon as they know everyone around them speaks Norwegian that’s the language they use. But the English is in there, they understand it perfectly, so if in the future we travel more and it’s useful for them to produce English more often, I’m confident it will come. In our daily life though they know I speak Norwegian, and I’m not into forcing them to artificially switch to English every time they turn to me.
And it’s not wrong for me to speak Norwegian to my kids either, even if I have an American accent. Give me a break, kids are smarter than that, my American accent rolls right off the language-processing-duck-feathers in their young flexible brains and they go right on their merry way speaking Norwegian like the rest of the native speakers around them.
Growing up we used to say what a shame it was that our grandparents didn’t hold on to Italian and keep it going in the family, so that we’d be able to speak it too. They were more focused on integrating and becoming American than holding on to Italian culture. Which I now understand better, because even if the circumstances are different here I am doing the same thing again in a new direction. It’s complex, isn’t it? And to be clear, I’m not saying integration should mean giving up one’s native language. Absolutely not. Language diversity and language preservation and keeping minority languages alive are crucial human rights issues. But on the personal, familial level language use shifts and evolves and flows. People move from this side of the globe to that and their language use shifts and changes along with them. For me personally, integrating and interacting with my kids as they grow up here has meant letting go of my language to a certain degree and accepting the fact that for us, in our situation, the societal language has become dominant.
And of course having English as our second language is a special situation, because English is a special language. Exceptionalismly imperialistically media-istically special. My kids, and all Norwegian kids, get lots of exposure to English all the time. It’s all over the place in tv and movies and youtube and it’s a regular subject on the school curriculum starting in first grade. Scandinavians in general are very good at English. So I’m not worried about my kids losing their English skills. It would be a different situation if their “non-dominant mother tongue” was Latvian or Sinhalese. Then I’m sure I’d feel like I needed to make more conscious effort to help them retain knowledge and use of it. Bilingual families come in all shapes and sizes. Some expat families know their stay abroad is temporary so it’s very important for them to keep their kids fluent in the home language they’ll move back to. Other immigrant families (I identify more with the word immigrant than expat, personally) have moved to a new country permanently and language integration is more of a priority to them. Some people learn languages quickly, others slowly. Some families have two immigrant parents, some have one, and the kids’ needs for exposure to the language in the society around them will vary accordingly. In my kids’ case we have one native Norwegian speaker parent and one immigrant English speaker. And they’ve grown up 100% in Norway and we have no plans of moving anywhere else.
What it comes down to is that language is about communication. If I make sounds and my kids understand them, we’re doing great. If the sounds help us create a connection from our thoughts and feelings to the physical world and to each other, then we’re doing even better. Our connection isn’t defined by which language we choose to speak. I don’t know where in the world they’ll end up living one day (except they’ll all be my next-door neighbors, right?), but I know they’ll adapt and use the language that works best for them wherever they are.
Do you have two or more languages in your household? How does that play out for you?