On Being Creative

Have you ever thought, "Oh well, that child (or adult) just isn't that creative?"

Hmm.  I've caught myself out thinking that about my son a few times.  But the thing is, what do I term 'creative?'  If I'm only measuring creativity against certain things then only a narrow segment of the population will be seen as 'creative' anyway.  I used to think I wasn't that creative.  That's because I couldn't paint.  And I never could seem to get the words right in creative writing projects, so I thought I couldn't write.  I spent so many years blocking my own ability with this negative mindset, not realising that creativity is so much more than something as narrow as painting or writing stories.  I can write.  I just need a starting point.  And thus far I haven't enjoyed writing dialogue, because it always seems more stilted than the movie script running in my head!  And in actual fact I can paint, sometimes.  I paint really nice flowers, lifesize imitations of the real thing.  Just don't ask me for a landscape or a person.  I could make you a bird's nest though, that hangs out of the frame.  Really quite striking. Or knit you a blanket, or make you a lovely card.  Or cook a meal from scratch without a recipe....I'm creative, just in an eclectic kinda way!  And my greatest creativity?  Being able to think around problems.  Now, how often would that be identified as being 'creative?'

Anyway, all this to say that I'm finding I need to be careful about how I think of my son's abilities, both actual and potential.

With the right incentive, any child can be creative.

So he doesn't often pull out the pens and paper and doodle on his own.  Instead, he prefers being creative in storytelling around his diggers and planes, or building things with his duplo.  But if I ask him to make something for a person's birthday, he will.  Especially if it's a collaborative project between the two of us (does that tell you a few things about my boy, perhaps?).

Recent artwork includes pictures for two Aunties having birthdays:

Spiders on a web.  He has since repeated this on a card for one of our sponsored children, completely off his own initiative after seeing me take out my card making box.

Some earlier pictures for our sponsored children - he helped me make the flower stalks and leaves, stuck the stickers on himself, then drew the grass.

Some car pictures made with glue and glitter.  Isn't it gorgeous?!

Then there's the pavement chalk we did one day.  Complete with writing his own name with only a little encouragement and direction from Mummy. 

A police van imitation, joint-collaboration. 

And our landscape.

Sometimes creativity just needs a little helping hand at an opportune time.  Sometimes it needs some encouragement, for someone else to recognise ability or interest.  Sometimes you just need the right incentives, the right suggestions or themes, the right inspiration, the right moment.  Capture it.  Run with it.  Enjoy it.  Celebrate it.

Amy

Time Out

Ever get to the point where you're just tired.  Tired of being busy, tired of rushing, tired of being tired?

And you need a rest.

Well, I was.

So we did.  Rest.

We went out for the afternoon, no timetable.  No plans, other than perhaps some fishing for Boyo.

Munchkin played in the lake.

I crocheted on the bank before collecting a bag of pinecones for preschool (because I'm not allowed to bring pinecones home - Boyo knows I am a little bit obsessive about them and we don't have a fire so what else would they get used for?!).

 

It was beautiful.

It was peaceful.

A perfect afternoon.

I needed it.  We all did.  We loved it.

Where do you go when you need to recharge?  We normally head to the beach, but the lake was just as lovely.

Amy

Fishing with Daddy

We got Boyo a trout fishing license for his last birthday (we being anyone in the whole immediate family who wanted to give him a gift).

Munchkin is keen to learn:

Isn't it wonderful, the things we can learn from our parents?!

Amy

When Money Isn't Everything

We could be renting a cheaper house.  It’s possible.  We’ve thought about it.  Long and hard.

But we’re staying put.

The thing is, I’ve realised that for Boyo and I, we place quite a high emphasis on financial aspects when making decisions.  It’s just the way we’re wired, both tending towards more analytical and less emotive decision making.  It can be helpful.  But it can also be a pain.

I really wanted to move house to save ourselves some money.  I’d put it to good use, I thought.  Save towards our future, instead of paying so much in rent.  But of course the money you think you’ll save is rarely what you really will save.  There’s the cost of moving, for instance.  It cost us a hundred dollars for the carpet, and a hundred for a new modem when we came here.  And then our power is on a different rate here, so costs more.  You just can’t predict that stuff, although I sure try!

I’d almost convinced myself we should move again when my amazing man came to the rescue.  His words of wisdom?  “Amy, I just don’t think you’ll survive in a house without sun.”  Nah, I reasoned.  I’m not home that much anymore.  And this house, while it gets sun, doesn’t have a heat pump.  So as long as we went to a place with a heat pump, I’d be okay, wouldn’t I?  But in the end I had to concede that he knows me terribly well. I am nearly cold-blooded.  So I made the choice to listen to my wise man, and stay put.

I’m glad I did.  It’s easy during summer to think only of how hot the upstairs is (stifling to say the least!).  It’s easy to forget how much I rely on the sun.

But just yesterday I found myself lying on the floor playing with my son, strategically wiggling myself in the direction of the stream of sunlight arcing across the lounge floor.  I was just a teeny bit cold.  Until I lay in the sun, at which point I felt just right.

It made me realise that I value having sun in my home immensely.  Enough to spend an extra $30 a week, which is what we probably are spending compared to what we ‘could’ manage to live in.

But the sun isn’t the only thing…I’ve found at least 9 things about this place that are worth an extra $30 a week to me.  So that means they are each only worth $3.30!

Sunlight.  As already mentioned.  It’s gold! 

Bath.  Munchkin had outgrown his tub.  He now gets to spend hours each week playing and prunifying (that glorious state where you’ve spent so long in the bath that your fingers look like dried prunes!).  It’s one of his favourite past-times.  And there’s nothing better than a warm bath when you’re cold, tired, and achy.  At least, that’s what I think.  I am a bath girl.  How I survived for three years without one, with a baby and study and bung back, I do not know.  I’m making up for the lack now!

 

New carpet.  I cannot rave enough.  To be able to sit on the floor, even lie on the floor with my nose embedded in the carpet (doing my back exercises, not of my free will, believe me!) and not have an allergic reaction is amazing!

 

Garden and deck.  Sometimes I think I’d rather not have the work of a garden.  But I do love being surrounded by gardens.  There are mature trees on this property, and I’ve concluded I just wouldn’t emotionally survive living somewhere with just buildings or concrete instead of greenery.  I look out at them every day.  Multiple times.  Every time I sit down to eat, I’m gazing out one window or another.  Plus of course we have a lemon tree and small vege garden that help offset the costs of living here!  And the deck, well I just love the back deck.  I can open the ranch slider wide, sit at the dining table with my lunch, and watch my son in the sandpit.  He’s visible (and highly audible too, I might add!).  It just works.

Location.  Fifteen minutes walk to our bank, chemist, a supermarket and more.  Just being able to take 5minutes to drive to the DVD store on a tired night is amazing.  And that’s without us being walking distance to my parents too.  It was SO nice not moving out of our familiar area, being able to still know the streets and the shops.

 

Walkway.  I don’t use it as much as I used to, but I still get that wonderful sense of peace from traipsing along our walkway.  And it’s a lifesaver on bored afternoons when Munchkin and I enjoy exploring together.

Internal garage.  With REMOTE!  Ahhhhh.  Our front door is somewhat stupidly positioned at the very back of the property.  So to go from front door to car/letterbox on wet days involves a slippery cobbled path that happens to be smack bang under the eaves that drip all over you.  Making the garage very handy.  It stores all that extra stuff that we haven’t managed to get inside the house.  It holds racks of washing on wet days.  Three (or so) bikes.  Guinea pig straw.  Recycling and rubbish bins.  A spare bed for when Munchkin is bigger.  Freezer.  Washing machine.  Tools.  Chemicals.  Gumboots and umbrellas and jackets.  You get the idea.  A LOT.

Insulation.  This house is so much drier and warmer than our last.  It’s incredible, what a bit of exterior insulation can do.  Being asthmatics, that’s important.  Very, very important.  And it’s just plain nicer too to get up and the lounge be 9 degrees (Celsius) instead of 4.

Proactive Landlords.  This single item would be worth $30 a week in itself!  There's nothing more to say, proactive landlords are worth their weight in gold.

So you see?  Money isn’t everything.  And sometimes what we think will save us money isn’t going to be worth it.  I live here.  It’s important that I am able to LIVE.  To dwell, to be at peace, to enjoy, to laugh, to rest.  A home needs to be that, a home.  Not just a place we are temporarily dwelling until we get to that amazing place we dream of, when we’re rich and can build our dream house from scratch, but a place to be in now, while we wait.  It’s a balance between tomorrow’s needs and todays, and not all of them are tangible or monetary-based.  It wouldn’t have occurred to me a few years ago to put ‘must have trees’ on my house-hunting list, but now I realise how deeply affected I am by my surroundings and how much my soul craves living, green things.  There’s no point reaching my financial goals sooner if I do so at the expense of the (sometimes very thin shred) of sanity I have now, is there? 

Amy

Excited

I'm SO excited!

We've just been invited to attend a special 25th Anniversary Dinner with Liberty Trust.

Wahoo.

In Whakatane.

On a night Munchy baby is away.

Which means that we can actually GO.

Amazing.  Awesome.  Wonderful.  Did I mention that I'm so excited??!  I have RSVPd (the same day we got the invite).  With more than my usual number of exclamation points.  Grin.

Here's the thing, you see.  We've been contributing to Liberty Trust for about six years now, watching our balance slowly edge it's way up, waiting for the day we will get a letter or a phone call from the Trust offering us an interest free loan.  Every month we get their newsletter, and every time I think, "Yes, this is it.  This is a great thing to be doing.  I'm helping other Kiwi families get free of mortgage debt, while getting my family ready to experience the same blessing."  But it's a lonely path.  Most people we talk to don't even know what Liberty Trust is.  Which, incidentally, is really sad.  Of the few who know what it is, even less have been or are currently involved.  So it will be really, really special to be able to go the home town of Liberty Trust and share in a big celebration with a whole bunch of other people, people who are contributing towards a loan too, but also people who have received and paid one back. 

We first started contributing back when we lived in Oz.  When we owned a house.  When we didn't need a loan.  Or so we thought.  Why then did we do it?  Because it's just so RIGHT.  For every $50,000 we borrow through Liberty Trust, we will save at least $40,000 in interest.  At today's relatively low interest rates.  And we're part of something bigger than just ourselves.  We're helping build a capital fund that helps hundreds, even thousands of other families do the same.  Pay off their house in under fifteen years.  Be free of that crippling, monstrous debt.  Be able to do other things instead.

Our loan was only going to be $50,000.  It was more about the principle of the matter, of supporting something I believed in.  I figured if we didn't need it, we'd be sure to find someone who did.  But lo-and-behold, now we do need it.  We're back to zero, starting over.  And our best opportunity to own a home without it crippling us financially is by doing it this way.  By waiting.  We can't save a deposit right now while we study.  It's just not feasible, especially when we'd be looking for $60,000 in today's market.  Student budget and all, we couldn't manage a tenth of that.  BUT we can manage $150 a month.  Not so much, is it?  And we've increased it.  Used to be just $87.  It's a stretch.  But my only regret is that I wish I'd started earlier, and put more in sooner.  Oh well, we are at least doing something.  We are making a difference in our future.  By spreading the cost over a longer time frame, we can manage it.

Wondering what on earth I'm talking about?
Liberty Trust is a Christian organisation that lends to individuals and churches in NZ and Australia.  You don't have to be a Christian to use the trust.  You donate to the trust for an extended time frame (usually 8-10 years).  Then you're offered a loan of five times what you've donated.  You then pay that back in a short time frame (7-15years), without paying interest.  You've already made your contribution to growing the trust.  Once you've paid your loan, it gets passed to someone else, and someone else, and someone else.  Because it's a relatively small organisation, with high ethics, honesty, and relationship, there's flexibility.  You could get a loan in less time by contributing more.  You can pay your loan of over a longer timeframe by waiting a bit longer to get it.  Our current hope is that once we are both out working we might increase what we put in so we can get a full loan with Liberty, but we'll see once we are done with the study first. 

In the meantime, I'm just so excited to be able to go to the Silver Anniversary Dinner.
Happy 25th Birthday, Liberty Trust!

Amy

Some Like it Cold

Some folks like it cold.
They like the frosty air, the nippy breeze that blows through clothes and fiddles with your hair.
They love it when it snows, when there's sleet or ice, or fog. 
They revel in the wild and wet, they jump and dance and hop.

But some of us are not so keen.  We really prefer it warm. 
We like to keep all toasty by the fireside in a storm.
We like mild, sunny days when the breeze is cool, not cold. 
We don't like getting wet and we don't like a streaming runny nose. 
Some of us just like it fine, predictable, not wild. 
We really don't appreciate the wildness and the storm. 
We can't stand icy fingers and goose bumps up our arms.
Even if we know it really won't do us any harm.

Some folks like it cold.
My husband is one. 
He loves the snow, he loves the mist, he loves it when it pours. 
He checks the rain gauge and ponders, wondering how long this storm will linger. 
He feels disappointed if the clouds don't open.  He wants the heavy wind, and he really wants the thunder. 
He lies awake at night, watching lightening streak the sky. 
He lives for crazy weather, this crazy man of mine.

It's not that I hate rain.  It's that I hate getting wet.  I'll go outside, for sure if you give me hat, boots, and brolly.
And as for the cold?  Well, I don't mind nippy air.  It's the frozen fingers, frozen toes, frozen nose, and coldness that I fear.
I am the layer queen.  I've found I just love wool.  A merino top, or three or four, or else I'll still be cool. 
I love my fingerless gloves, I wear them all day long. I knit in them, I sleep in them, there's a spare pair in my bag. 

It's not my fault, it really isn't.  I just don't like it cold.

Amy

House Loving

When we first moved into our house, I really didn’t like it.  People would admire and tell me how lovely it was, how lucky we were, and I would do that half-hearted fake smile while thinking about all the things I didn’t like about it.

But mostly, it wasn’t that it isn’t a nice house.  It was that I had some things I needed to work on, some things I needed to see.  I’m so glad that as human beings we have the capacity to change our minds!

Because now I love my house.  Really, truly love it.  I love the house, the neighbourhood, and more.  I am glad we had to move.

There are a few minor things I don’t like still.  And one major.  The extra cost.  But I’m convincing myself that it is worth the cost for us to have a dry, insulated house.  It is worth the cost to have my beloved walkway nearby still (even if I don’t use it nearly enough these days for either my legs or my soul!).  It is worth having an actual ‘house’ with a yard, a garage, and a deck.  It’s a good experience for us, learning to live like this, after having been in a unit for several years.  Kind of the next step in being ready for our own house again one day, I like to think.  Here we have more gardens to care for, and more lawns, cobbles that need weed spray, more areas inside that need dusting and vacuuming and general keeping-cleaning.  But more space to move around.

I think sometimes it takes time for us to adjust to even the best changes, and especially those that we didn’t necessarily choose for ourselves.  I didn’t really choose to move.  It was thrust upon me.  Even though I knew it would almost certainly be better for us to be someplace drier.  So my feelings of ill-will towards this house were largely founded on my feelings of grief in leaving our old place.  I loved that little place, even though we were renting it, it was ours for three years.  It was where Munchkin first came home, it was where I unpacked our boxes after years of having our things stored.  It was peacefully quiet, tucked away in a secluded corner.  It was home.

But now this is home.  Once I got used to the idea, I really liked it.  It just took time, and I needed to be allowed that time.  I needed time to unpack my boxes, to hang my pictures, to rant at the extra costs of moving and stress over finding a higher bond, to clean and to tidy and to sort my stuff and my attitude.  I needed time to feel at home, to feel like I belonged rather than like I was living in someone else’s house.  It took a few months.  Going straight out onto teaching placement a just a week and a bit after we moved didn’t help.  The house was chaotic for several months.  But gradually, I got through the sorting and as I found a new ‘home’ for each thing, I found myself finding a home for me too.

 

We’ve since moved things around a few times.  We’ve reshuffled, and resorted, and rearranged a little.  There’s a sandpit on the deck.  And a bigger guinea pig hutch out in the yard.  I’m waiting for lobelias and sweet William to flower in the garden.  I only occasionally bump my head on the sloped ceilings upstairs and don’t immediately cry, wishing we were not here!  We’ve got door stops in front of the doors that keep opening, and the ones that keep closing.  I’ve found homes for all my African Violets.  The kitchen stuff all fits in the kitchen.  This is home.  And I’m happy to be here.

Amy