When cultivating optimism, which I posted about the other day,  it can be helpful to have a visual reminder of your intentions, hopes, and dreams. Make wishing flags to hang on a tree in your garden and sway in the breezes all summer long.

Materials
* assorted pretty fabric scraps, or watercolor paintings or pretty papers
* a permanent marker
* ribbon or yarn
* pinking shears (if using fabric)
* a hole punch (if using paper), or scissors
* beads (optional)

Tutorial
Take a moment to think of the good things you want to happen in your life. Your wishes may be as specific as you need them to be (new job for daddy, better health for grandma, college acceptance for sister, opportunity to homeschool, good teacher for brother, fun at camp, etc.). If you are doing this project with children, ask them, “What happy things will happen to us?” Chances are good that the children will have many joyful ideas to share. (Marvel for a moment at how easy optimism comes to them.) Write your ideas down in a list.

If you don’t have specific ideas or hopeful expectations, make a general list of positives, such as: joy, learning, rest, health, happiness, hope, peace, harmony, love, patience, safety, etc.  When my family and I did this project, we asked our friends and loved ones what they hoped and prayed for—we took their requests and made flags for them, too. It was a lovely way to share our goodwill with others.

Cut your fabric into skinny rectangles (or triangles) with your pinking shears. If you are using paintings or other papers, you can use regular craft scissors. You’ll need one rectangle for each wish, and they can be measured and uniform or free form and varied, it’s up to you. If you want, you can think of them as custom-made prayer flags.

Using your permanent marker, write your wish on your rectangle. Make a hole with scissors (or a hole punch, if you’re using paper) at the top, and loop your ribbon or yarn through the hole and tie a knot. Now it will look a lot like a bookmark.

You may like to add beads to the top of your ribbon. If you do, the beads will add weight to the wish and give it a finished look. Make as many or as few of these wish flags as you like. If you’re doing this as a class or as a family, make sure that everyone contributes some wishes.

Now find a spot in your garden or playground where you will be frequently and tie your wishes to a tree. They will add color to your garden and flutter in the summer breezes. Perhaps your wishes will be carried by the wind up to heaven, or to the four corners of the world, spreading your love and optimism over the globe to people everywhere. Whenever you see them, you will be reminded of all the good that is in your future.

(This article was originally published in the Little Acorn Learning June Enrichment Guide in 2011. Check out all their many wonderful offerings at Little Acorn Learning.

If you have a sanguine temperament, you probably never even think about optimism, or being optimistic—you just are upbeat most of the time. Not everyone is naturally optimistic, though. As caregivers and parents, optimism can be one of our most valuable personal resources. Finding ways to cultivate optimism in our lives is highly rewarding and will provide a fount of energy and love that we can draw from, especially when times get tough or we’re having a challenging day.

But what is optimism? Some would say it is hope, or the expectation that the future will bring good things. Some would define optimism as a tendency to think of life and the event unfolding around us in a positive light, to see opportunity in change, to see good outcomes when we imagine what is to come.

There is a well-documented connection between optimism and good health—and the converse. The mind-body connection is being validated by scientific research, and has long been understood in many cultures. The Latin word optimum means “best.” So how will you be your best self, live your best, do your best, and reap the best outcomes for your efforts?

Even if it’s not your tendency to be optimistic, you can cultivate optimism in your life for your own benefit and the benefit of those around you. Patterns of optimistic thinking can be learned. Here are some things you can do to nurture an optimistic outlook. I know because this is something I work on all the time.

Get some exercise. Exercise has so many benefits, which we’ve all heard before. But the positive impact of exercise on your emotional and mental state is just exactly what you need to be optimistic. Not only does exercise provide you with a boost to your physical energy and emotional well-being, it’s also a way of investing today in your healthy, happy future. You want to be around to enjoy those grandchildren and great-grandchildren, to fulfill your life goals, and exercise is the ticket.

Plant a tree. By planting a tree, you are symbolically looking to the future. You plan where it will go in your garden, imagine its height and breadth as it grows, how it will cast shade, and even perhaps that you will someday picnic under its canopy. What else will your tree bring you and your family? How else might it bring you joy? As you watch your tree grow, you have a symbol of your optimism.

Practice “prenostalgia.” OK. My husband and I made up that word, but I think it works. By prenostalgia I mean imagining a moment in the future when you might look back and fondly remember this time in the present. I guess that’s a kind of funny way of saying be mindful of this moment, and take some steps to ensure that you can enjoy it later, too. Take up scrapbooking, for example, or journaling, or blogging. If you‘re a shutterbug like me, realize that every photo you snap is a simple act of optimism. You are investing in your future enjoyment of life, just as much as you’re enjoying the present.

Prepare a time capsule, or a hope chest, for your children. Add to your time capsule, little by little, through the years. It can contain artworks, special items of clothing, and other mementos. A hope chest traditionally is a collection of things that a grown child will need when she or he reaches adulthood. Exercise your imagination. What will your child like to have in the future?

Make a handmade quilt. There’s nothing quite like a quilt as a symbol of love, warmth, and home. Stitch by stitch, you can sew in your hopes for the future, for the world, and for your beloved family members. While you work, imagine how this quilt you are making will be used, who will use it, and how it will be treasured because it came from your hands and heart.

Save some money. I look on each dollar I save for my sons’ college education as an exercise in optimism. No matter how small the amount, saving money is a way of planning for a good future. Perhaps it’s savings for your children or your own retirement; perhaps it’s for a special family vacation or for your dream home. Whatever you save for, you are acting out of hope and it feels good.

Make a microloan. Sorry to mention money twice in a row, but I think this one is great. Microloans are tiny investments in people and small businesses, especially in developing nations. There are several reputable organizations that can match micro-investors with people who need small amounts of cash (sometimes as little as $25) to get a business off the ground, thereby increasing the safety and health of their families and communities. This small investment is an act of trust and optimism, a testament to our faith in human nature and good in the world. An individual does have the power to change lives for the better, which is a way of changing the world.

Find the positive. Take a moment to find the positives in every situation, especially in those that are seemingly bad or discouraging. This silver-lining thinking may require some deep soul-searching and some practice to make it a habit, but if you make a concerted effort to change your negative thoughts to positive ones, you‘ll be learning optimism.

Say it aloud. Whenever you are feeling good about the future or confidence in yourself or others, say so out loud. Not only will you be sharing compliments and your happy expectations with others, who will surely benefit from hearing it, but also you will benefit from hearing yourself being positive and hopeful. Furthermore, be aware of your inner self-talk and compliment yourself when you do something well, when you make the extra effort, when you give of yourself, when you act out of kindness. Positive affirmations can help cultivate an optimistic outlook on life.

These few simple things, practiced and perfected over time, may just alter the way you look at everything. Soon, your own eyes will sparkle with hope and excitement in just that same magical way your child’s eyes do.

Finally, be gentle with yourself. You already are optimistic, even if you don’t realize it. Here is the proof: By spending time caring for children, you are engaged in faithful, optimistic work every day, striving toward and cultivating a bright, beautiful future world.

(This article was originally published in the Little Acorn Learning June Enrichment Guide in 2011. Check out all their many wonderful offerings at Little Acorn Learning.

While I try to refrain from complaining here most of the time, I also know that I appreciate a little reality check once in a while. As a blog reader, I like to see writers reveal a human face. I like to see that people—even blogland-perfect-seeming people—make mistakes, struggle with decisions, have a messy house or a scattered mind. Truth. I like it.

Truth is, things are kind of a shambles around here these days. Asher got the flu last Thursday. Ian got it on Saturday. Both were quite ill through Easter. While Asher has recovered some of his bounce, both he and Ian are still a wreck, with terrible coughing. Asher is emotionally all over the place. I got the sick yesterday, complete with 101 degree fever and chills. When I woke up this morning, it was clear that Lucas finally had the flu, too.

We’ve been stuck at home now for the better part of the last five days. I got out for a bit last Saturday to see friends at a garden birthday party, which was fun. Easter Sunday was subdued. I met with some colleagues on Monday night.

Yesterday I somehow edited a 4,400 word chapter with a fever. I have no idea how well I did that work. But a rush editing job is rush, whether I am sick or not.

It’s not all rotten. Just mostly rotten. We have watched more videos in the last four days than in the last several months put together. Today we finally managed to get the dishwasher and the clothes washer going. Together, like a shamble of zombies, we folded four loads of clean laundry that were stacked up and beginning to topple over, so that it was getting hard to tell clean from dirty on the floor. We are keeping the chickens and the dogs and ourselves fed. Last night’s rain meant that I didn’t have to try to water today, which is something I doubt I could have done. Lucas has practiced his piano.

I missed painting class. I have taken no photos since Easter. We’re eating ramen and egg salad sandwiches and fish sticks.

Ian plucked up his courage yesterday and did a couple of errands. He went out to buy me a new nebulizer because mine is broken, in anticipation of some bad wheezing brought on by this illness. That’s true love, man.

Did I mention this is Ian’s and the kids’ spring vacation? Yeah. Sucks. In the midst all of this, we’re wrestling with a pretty big decision. Tempers are short. And yet, we carry on.

Well, it’s Friday evening. Good Friday, in fact. It has been a good Friday, if I look at it from the right sort of angle. Life doesn’t always (read: almost never) follow according to plan, you see. So when it doesn’t go just how I expect and I manage to roll with it, I consider that a win.

We had some dear friends over for a sleepover. Alas, poor Asher fell ill right at dinnertime. The party went on around him, and he tried his best to stay cheerful throughout. A touchy tummy and a mild fever can weigh a boy down, though.

And while I don’t like exposing other people’s children to our germs, and tend toward feeling really guilty about this sort of thing when it happens, their sweet mama said, “I’m not worried. It’s too late to save them from germs, so they might as well have some fun.” So, although Asher had a couched and run-down kind of day today, Lucas was able to carry on playing and enjoying himself and his friends.

We visited and made some Easter cookies—at least, we got some baked before our friends had to go home. The boys and Ian and I carried on decorating them ourselves. As you can see, we pulled out all the stops.

We have plans for the holiday weekend, but we’ll just have to see what happens. Poor Asher has just been sick all over.

The girls are finally starting to lay again. Yesterday was a great day, resulting in five gorgeous Easter-ready eggs. We’ve had several weeks of only one or two eggs a day. Some winter days brought no eggs at all. This is frustrating for me, as I have 13 hens that I feed every day. But when they do their magic, it’s really magical. Another sign that spring is coming.

These days are drifting by me. My children still have a few days of winter break left, and we are in a sleepy sort of stillness here. There are arguments, of course, and normal life chores to do, but we are also lounging more, playing more, reading more. Although the weather doesn’t feel all that wintery, we’re still deep in the quiet stream of short days and long nights.

Now that the excitement of the holidays is passed, we can just be. So far, I’ve been able to relax into this period of rest. Perhaps it’s because I’ve been sick, and so sleeping in late or spending time on the couch with a book seems good and justified. NOVA programs are my good friends right now.

There are walks and visits, overnights with friends, and, just a few days ago, we enjoyed an epic New Year’s weekend of homemade roller disco and hours upon hours of delicious social time. We play with new toys and eat together and find moments to sift through belongings, then let items go to others who need them more than we do. The boys’ scooter and trike have had extra workouts this week. These activities are comfortable and easy to me, despite the child-made sound effects and the bickering. I don’t know if my expectations for this time are higher or lower than normal, but whatever it is, it’s working. I feel rather like I’m mentally hibernating.

Today I felt the first inkling of the What-If Harpies, which arrived with some news. They started in with their usual doomsaying. I told them to go away. I’m too busy resting to worry right now.

This afternoon I watched a fat, robust squirrel drink from my birdbath. He approached boldly as though he does this every afternoon, which he may very well do. I’ve just never seen it before. I watched him drink his fill, then hop down, rip a bit off a nearby garden plant and then sit atop a rock and eat it as his salad course.

I have a new, light-brown shadow. It seems as though this little foundling dog is staying with us. We have had not a single nibble, despite our efforts to find his family. Not even a mistaken call from a worried pet-owner hoping we have found her pet. Ian went back to work yesterday and in his absence the little dog stayed by my side all day long. He likes to cuddle or sleep beside me; if I move, he’s up and ready to go along. He does not wish to be left behind. I have so much to learn about having a dog. And yet this tethered feeling is very familiar.

The truth is Solstice is a joy for us all. I’m hoping hoping hoping that my illness is illness and not a bad reaction to him. The doctor gave me meds today for a sinus infection, so I guess if I start to feel better, that’s a good sign that my condition isn’t being caused by the dog.

I’ve faked my way through knitting about a quarter of my first sweater. I’ve flubbed a bunch of things, but also used a number of techniques for the first time. I consider that progress. I wonder what my mother will say when she sees it. She is both my cheerleader and teacher in this sort of thing. I’ve arrived at the body portion with too many stitches and a hole where I clearly dropped one, and yet I press on. I like the colors a lot and I am kind of astonished at the beautiful stripes that are appearing as I work. This sweater is for Asher. I figure there’s about a 20 percent chance I’ll finish it and a 2 percent chance he’ll wear it. But … if I did … and if he did … wouldn’t that be wonderful?

I’ll leave you with this sweet and insightful post by Team Studer: 25 Rules for Mothers with Sons because it made me feel nostalgic and appreciative of everything my sons are and are becoming. And now a walk I think, and then perhaps some tea …

These holy, family days have been so full. We are enjoying. Resting.

Coloring.

Playing with so, so many wonderful gifts.

We have had long, luxurious visits from friends, and a sweet party that we are very honored to host.

The little dog, Solstice, is a great joy to us all. We still don’t know where he is from. We haven’t had even a single nibble on the ads we placed, hoping to find his owners. In the meantime, whatever the outcome, we are enjoying him ever so much. And now I have someone new and fluffy to point my camera at.

We’ve been reading new books in our leisure and drinking too much delicious coffee. Nursing head colds.

Experimenting with magical ice … to see what we can make, of course.

Cutting snowflakes and folding window stars. (LOVE!)

After all the working>making>striving>doing>going> leading up to and including Christmas day, we are now fully and happily settled into our hibernation days, our holy, family days. There is plenty to do—very little of it is urgent. So perhaps we’ll do some laundry. Or cook. Or play more Legos or a game. Or go for another walk instead …

Or climb a tree …

while we learn more about each other …

and see what we can find along the way.

Asher is sick today with a cold. I apologize to everyone he came into contact with over the last two days; I hope we haven’t gotten anyone sick. He had a rough night last in our bed, which means none of us slept well. I confess I find it hard to be a compassionate mother in the middle of the night when a thrashing child is alternately pawing at me and randomly punching my face.

But look at him. He looks tired and sad. Today we’re taking it easy. I went out this morning into my backyard and gathered up all the spare pieces of wood I could find. These are all the sticks my kids find and bring home, bits of home carpentry projects, bits that fall off our trees in winds, etc. These are the pieces of wood my kids bash each other with at every chance they get—swords, knives, spears, scimitars, poleaxes—you get the picture. Then I lit a fire for Asher and me.

Unfortunately, this novel entertainment will end soon, as we will rapidly run out of wood to burn.

So we are playing LEGO by the fire, while it lasts. Asher is telling me about Earthland, and his pet dragon, and pontificating about what color of fire is the most dangerous—blue, in case you didn’t know. I expect we’ll spend a good part of the rest of the day on the couch.

He tells me I should build ships that do better things than science vessels. Apparently my science vessels are boring.

My babies are home sick right now. You could say we overdid it this past weekend—which is totally true—but I know this is a virus they came by honestly. And so we are stuck at home together, while mama tries to meet editing deadlines and take care of ill boys, and said boys try to be still and let fevers and nausea pass with a minimum of mess. We have been doing a bit of birdwatching from our bay window. This morning, Asher and I sat and watched from our glider chair for 30 minutes or so. The birdbath has been popular!

A pair of robins visited us for a dip and a drink. Photographing fast-moving birds through a window I never clean doesn’t make for the greatest shots, especially with crazy cosmos flowers and buds blocking the view, but it is fun to see birds using this birdbath my family got me for my birthday last year. I love it and keep it filled with water at all times.

I don’t know what this gray darling is, but he or she was politely waiting a turn at the bath while the robins were there. Another gray bird with darker plumage was also waiting in the wings, so to speak.

Here’s that male robin again on the weeping cherry tree (that is trying hard to morph into a fruiting cherry tree).

Later on, I heard (before I saw) a woodpecker pecking at my purple robe locust tree, which seems to have mysteriously died this summer. I loved that tree. The woodpecker seems to indicate that it is indeed dead and not coming back. It grew fast to about 30 feet, bloomed like mad with huge purple flower clusters like grapes for about four years, and then gave up the ghost. Hopefully the woodpecker was finding a meal at least.

We have hummingbirds that visit our yard, too. They love all of my flowers, especially my cannas, salvias, and morning glories. This morning I watched one do its aerial dance, flying way up high and diving down into the yard. That seems to be a territorial thing. Hummingbirds rarely rest, but if I watch closely I sometimes spot lone individuals on the power lines. On Ian’s birthday a couple of days ago, a hummingbird flew right in front of him and hovered there at eye level for a few moments, just looking at him, before flying away. It seemed to him to say, “Happy birthday!” (Once, he gratefully held a stunned hummingbird in his hands after it had bonked into a window. It shook off the crash and quickly flew away. Another time, Ian was spraying the garden with the hose and a hummingbird came and bathed in the spray for a while, hovering in place to get clean. He kept stock-still with the steady spray until the bird was finished bathing. These experiences have made hummingbirds special to him.)

I met this handsome fellow last month in San Franciso in the Yerba Buena Gardens. So, he’s not an October bird sighting, but I couldn’t resist including him. It’s rare and thrilling to get this close.

Birds are part of the Little Acorn Learning October Enrichment Guide curriculum in the first week of October, which is what inspired me to look out the window and watch that birdbath. You can see the full contents and purchase the e-book here. Along with many other talented artisans and educators, I have contributed several craft project tutorials to it, including a woodworking project that Ian helped a bunch on. Here are a few craft photos from this month that didn’t make the cut for the ebook.

Maybe these will whet your whistle? You can find tutorials for these projects and much, much more at http://littleacornlearning.com/octoberenrichment.html. If you care for small and school-age children, you might really love these Enrichment Guides!

I hope you are able to spot some lovely October birds.