Moving, traveling or any other major changes and transitions are hard enough for kids, but for a highly-sensitive child, they really start to feel impossible. In my last post I explained our biggest part of helping him transition – the emotional aspect. But there are others things we’re trying to do to help him, as well. If you’ve read either The Highly Sensitive Person or The Highly Sensitive Child and my thoughts on it, you’ll have a better understanding of where we’re coming from.

Our main concerns are unfamiliarity, overstimulation and nearly constant transitioning during travel, all of which are skills he’s still learning.

Packing and Sorting

We have pretty limited space in a 22 ft RV. But since Zeb forms deep attachments to things that he loves, there are serious accommodations we’re making for him.

He’s surprisingly willing to let go of a lot of things. But there are some things he really wants to take: Yu-Gi-Oh cards, a few Ren Fair items, his bike and most importantly (and space-consuming) his LEGO collection. If you’ve seen what was once called his bedroom you’d understand the challenge; it’s so full of Lego creations and layouts that it’s referred to as The Lego Studio. (No joke. He will correct you if you call it a bedroom. He takes his passions seriously.)

First, and most obviously, while packing up the house we’re saving his room for last. No cleaning, no sorting, no packing, no moving of his things until the last possible moment. While the rest of the house is in various states of disarray, he continues to have a steady, quiet place to center himself and escape the stimulation. (More on this in a minute.) Several days before it’s time to tackle his room, we’ll give him a heads up so he can have plenty of time to prepare himself for it.

We’ve allotted the two bench seats in the dining area of the RV as his own to be used as “toy boxes”. They will undoubtedly be filled with as many Legos as possible. There will also be a few totes above the cab for anything else he’d like to take. Justin and I are condensing our own things as much as possible and finding creative places to store things, so that Zeb can take as many of his familiar things as possible.

Familiarity is the key here. We want him to have resources that give him time to center himself on the road, especially as he can’t do that very well in unfamiliar and overstimulating surroundings. We’re hoping being surrounded by his favorite things will smooth the transition. (If necessary, we’ll find space in the trailer we’ll be towing for anything we can’t fit in the RV.)

His comfort during all of this is just as, if not more, important as ours.

Keeping It Together

Saying he doesn’t handle overstimulation well would be an understatement. It’s a challenge for me with a lifetime of highly-sensitive practice. What I don’t want him to become reliant on is shutting down. It’s coping, not avoiding, that are lasting skills.

But there is only so much a 10 year old can handle, so it’s still our job to maintain some semblance of a routine. Um, yeah. Not easy right now. But crucial to his well-being. So we still gather for dinner. We carve out time for movie nights. We read together before bed. We force ourselves to meet with friends, have dinner with family, play games.

We listen to music during the hectic days. We clean the kitchen daily. We clean the house weekly. We keep plenty of snacks and simple lunches around so that he can help himself whenever he wants something.

Part of his coping mechanism needs a bit of avoidance and I have to remind myself that during these extenuating circumstances avoidance isn’t just normal, it’s necessary. He spends a large amount of his day in his room, playing computer games and Legos and talking on the phone with friends. He even locks his door as a way to ensure fewer abrupt intrusions into his “safe zone”. When he’s not in his room, he’s playing video games or watching Netflix in the living room. It’s constant. It’s sometimes annoying. But I’m reminding myself that it is not only temporary, it’s necessary to his ability to handle everything right now. (He’s also trying to enjoy the things we won’t have in the RV – like rentals or Wii games…or privacy. Just another way he’s transitioning from one place to another.)

Transitioning On The Road

This is something I’ve thought a lot about. It will take a lot of experimenting to find ways to avoid overstimulation, maintain some amount of privacy and respect boundaries in such a small space. And considering how many places we want to visit and things we want to experience on the road, the constant transitioning will certainly be trying.

One serious plus to traveling in the RV is that no matter how our outside environment changes, we’ll always have the same comfortable place to retreat to. Not long ago, I spoke to a self-proclaimed “mild agoraphobic”  who traveled in an RV full-time; she said she had no problem traveling because she was essentially always home! We’re hoping Zeb will find similar comfort during the constant change of scenery.

Here are some ideas I’ve had and that we’ll try implementing:

• Fewer timelines: I already know it’s going to be a challenge for Justin and I to remember to slow down. But having Zeb be our main guiding force as to how long we stay or how quickly we move on will help. If he’s overwhelmed or overstimulated, we’ll settle in for a bit. If he’s uncomfortable where we are, we’ll head out.
• Finding peaceful places: We hope to avoid the energy of busy campsites and RV parks as much as possible. We want to find quiet, beautiful places to stay or boondock. Places with views or trails will likely be important so that anytime one of us needs privacy, we have options for hiking or just sitting outside.
• Headphones: With three laptops, numerous computer games, a passion for YouTube and a small space, I’m going to be encouraging headphones quite a lot to help keep things less stimulating (quiet) for everyone.
• Staying connected: Keeping him in touch with family and friends is a must. We plan to shift to one cell phone with unlimited minutes (or a “family circle”), and we’ll have mobile internet, as well as Skype. We’ll also be visiting many, many family and friends around the country.
• Familiar places: Not only will our RV be filled with familiar and comforting things, we’re also attempting to create familiarity wherever we go. We’ll have a membership to nationwide children’s museums, on the rare occasion we eat out it will likely be a national chain with an environment and menu he is familiar with, and we plan to stop to visit family we’ve stayed with, as well as places we’ve seen before. Apart from farmer’s markets, we’re also hoping to find Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods as often as possible so that we can find familiar foods.
• Giving him the reigns: We all feel best when things don’t feel completely out of our control. As much as possible, and as much as he desires, we’ll have him decide things like which road to take, which city to explore, what to have for dinner, where to stay, etc. I want him to feel like an active, important part of this adventure, not a bystander being dragged behind our crazy ideas. As we look for a new community, his input will likewise be essential.

For those wondering about my own sensitivities and the moving/traveling, the easy explanation is that I enjoy change more than most people and I’m also much more adept at knowing what I need and taking plenty of “time outs” away from everything to regroup when necessary. Also a few of the suggestions above are just as much for my benefit as Zeb’s (headphones, peaceful environments…not to mention helping him will really help us all). How I’ll actually do on the road, however, is anyone’s guess.

Note: All of this was written before we left for Death Valley on Sunday. We just got back this afternoon from a two day trip and as soon as I’ve cleaned up, I’ll blog about how our ideals stacked up to actuality, what we need to work on and a whole lot of other thoughts on our first *successful* Maiden Voyage.

Read more: Highly Sensitive Transitioning: Before The Move

There is still a lot to do and I fluctuate between doing well and feeling claustrophobic under a suffocating pile of Tasks. But if I’ve planned it well, I’m still on track. And that amazes me.

At the beginning, I made a list of every room that needed sorting, every task that needed attention, every To Do that needed To Doing. Then I looked at my calender and counted the weeks between now and Then (“Then” being “The Big Day”, the day we move). And I divied up the list, a little bit for each week. Six weeks to sort, 2 weeks to sell, one weekend to say goodbye. March 1st: We leave.

And it’s been surprising how well it’s worked. It doesn’t matter what next week holds, I only look at this week. When I’m done, I’m done for the week and I can goof off. If I think of something that needs to be handled, it gets scribbled in this or another week.

Another secret of my “success” comes from FlyLady and was brought back to my attention by Hillary. Putting on shoes in the morning makes all the difference. (So does showering and getting dressed actually. Who knew?)

But that’s all the detail-oriented transitioning. The mental transitioning has been a different sorta beast.

Somewhere along the line – I’m not exactly sure where – I let go of my attachment to our stuff.

I took a great, deep breath and asked myself if every time I see these things, do they make me smile? Does it hold some special meaning, have a real and practical use, or would it be difficult to replace (or even need replacing)? The answer is almost always “No”.

I looked at the boxes sitting in my garage from my decluttering last summer and I can’t for the life of me remember what is in them. I try to recall what is in a particular room and only the truly important things come to mind.

My home has become filled with the inconsequential.

And when I look forward to the possibilities that await us, nothing inconsequential has a place in our journey.

And there it was; that magical place of unattachment to what doesn’t truly matter.

We are starting over. We’re discarding the things that don’t properly represent us – and you’d be surprised how much that is. I’m not sure how I got to this place of feeling so underrepresented in my own home but it hardly matters. I can recognize it for what it is and I’m not going to find myself here again. Those questions will remain my guiding force.

So, we sort. We pack what will be stored and move what will be taken and leave in place all that we will sell (about 95%). And it’s liberating and peaceful. In fact, the further I get the more at peace I feel.

3 weeks and 3 rooms down and this is all that is being stored so far:
some books, photo albums, ornaments and some keepsakes.

Part of the 1% we’re taking on the road:
games, art stuff, movies (in the CD case), sewing and knitting.

Through all this, we’re trying to enjoy what we will truly miss: time spent at the park with our unschooling community, playdates and sleepovers with friends, dinners and afternoons and time with family. We’re also getting through library lists and our book series and the Netflix movie queue and video game goals. And we’re finishing up projects – a childhood dollhouse for my nieces, Zeb’s Lego creations and a business venture of mine.

Some days I’m motivated and accomplishing. Other days (like today) I stay in my pajamas and putter around. Some days it’s surreal; others it’s as if this is normal, everyday life. Everyday has at least a little piece of joy.

Yesterday, while Zeb went to the movies with his Gramma, Justin and I went on a lunch date. We talked about social expectations, the hidden messages we received as children and what we are imparting to our own. We talked about what success really means – both now and on the road – and how we will be below the poverty line. And we talked about what we hope to find on the road. Both of us have the same answer: Ourselves.

And so we created a focus. To question our motives, to remain in the moment, to allow self-discovery to occur. And whether we’re broken down in the middle of nowhere or having a Grand Adventure in the middle of somewhere, we’re going to Allow the moment to impart its wisdom. If we begin to lose our focus, we’ll shift  – shift our actions or shift our perspective – until it meets our intentions again.

We’ve stumbled across the opportunity of a lifetime. It would be heart-breaking to waste it.

2007 was about Letting Go and Trusting. It was the year I sold my business, the year we embraced unschooling, the year my perspective as a parent changed for the better. It was also the year I lost my dad. And really started to find myself. I think it will always feel like the year my life – my authentic life – started.

2008 was all about Judgment. It was a tough year but I can honestly look back on it with appreciation. It was the year my dreads went in and I learned so much about the judgment of others. There were others choices I made that year – choices I thought I’d never make – that taught me no person nor their decisions can ever be known or understood fully and therefore judgment (in the meanest form of the word) has little place in my heart. It was a hard year. But I feel I’m a better person for experiencing all of 2008.

One of my favorite photos/places of the year.

Looking back at 2009, all I can see is Change. Obviously the last four months have been an unprecedented upheaval. But it started long before that with our plans and Justin’s prediction. It makes for a strange year in retrospect – as if we lived the entire thing in limbo, looking forward while being stuck in (what felt like) our past: the place we’ve always been and don’t want to be anymore.

We changed our entire home, changed dust to real soil, changed our minds a dozen times.

And finally we made the choices that will ultimately change our lives and bring about so much unknown change, it’s overwhelming.

Another word that could describe this year for me is Acceptance. Accepting that which I cannot change and have no control over. Specifically in one area. Although it’s still a work in progress, I’m accepting that pregnancy is not going to happen for us. Seven years and enough losses to still hurt, and I’m ready to let go. Hindsight’s perfect vision is the most difficult here, seeing choices I would have made differently “if I’d only known then...” But I can only spend so much time in painful retrospect while life goes on without me. It’s time to accept what is and move on.

I don’t know what next year will bring, although definitely more change and likely some adventures are in store. There are things I’ll be looking and hoping for – community, connection, direction. But I’m not going to attempt to nail down next year’s purpose. The possibilities are too vast. Instead, I’m trying to remain open to what the road will bring and allow it unfold how it will.

To all of you I’ve “met” through this blog and hope to soon meet in person, I wish you all a phenomenal and memorable 2010.

And may our lives continue to intersect in extraordinary and meaningful ways.

• I created the blog to share tips with newbies to the green movement.
• I started catching sink run-off to water outdoor plants.
• I capture shower water to use in the toilet now (I hate the idea of flushing clean water!).
• I’ve started home baking our breads.
• I’ve ditched the dryer and hung up our clothesline (one outdoors and one indoors on a retractable line for things I don’t want the business complex behind me to see).
• I already keep our A/C at 82 during the summer (Yes, even when it’s 118 outside!).
• I’m looking into purchasing a solar cooker. Excited for this one!!
• I’ve planted most of the veggies and herbs we eat so that we can stop purchasing from a grocery store which imports food from out of state.
• I’ve stopped buying new and opted for used through Freecycle or thrift stores.
• I’ve learned how to sew and I already crochet.
• I crochet the stash of old plastic bags into new bags.
• I only shop with canvas bags and refuse plastic, even if that means carrying what I buy.
• I’ve started cutting my own bangs and am allowing the rest of my hair to grow.
• We’re downsizing to one vehicle! (In the market for an SUV?)
• We’ve stopped using chemical pesticides and cleaners.
• We power down as often as possible and use rechargeable
• We combine shopping trips and errands to save gas and walk when possible. I’m even considering learning how to ride a bike. Eek!
• I’m hoping to emulate Path to Freedom in whatever way I can.
• I will be switching to a corded phone once these cordless phone batteries finally die.
• I’ve got my compost pile (finally!) working.
• I’m looking into rain barrels (for all of four inches of rain a year) and reusing our washer water.
• We’ve switched to a vegetarian diet (lacto-ovo).
• I’ve switched from face products to baking soda, apple cider vinegar and olive oil (with great results!!).
• I’m sewing my own curtains using only natural materials and reclaimed wood and small fallen tree branches for curtain rods!
• I’ve started a Sustainability group for people in my city.
• I’ve joined several homesteading/sustainability groups for ideas from other like-minded individuals.
• I’ve joined the Urban Homesteaders web ring (lower left side) started by Path to Freedom.

What else can I do? I’m open to suggestions!

Our makeshift clothesline and compost in the corner.
Our contained garden (does not include our fruit trees or our soon-to-be planted cherry tomatoes, watermelon, cantaloupe, pumpkin or potatoes).

Our grape vine…with a nice shot of the biz complex behind us so you can see just how urban our homestead is.

Seriously, he’s 8 years old. But he suddenly seems to have turned an emotional corner. He’s seems…mature. And I’m not the only one to notice it!

The past few weeks since my own personal “getting it” the way I responded to him was completely different. But I still assumed it would take him a bit to see my changes and not hit me with the knee-jerk reactions to things. I guess not.

He’s been logical, thoughtful, funny, calm, rational…mature. The past week has just been so nice! We’ve been so nice! No arguments, no battle of wills..I understand not to push and prod and he understands when things aren’t exactly how we’d like them.

Last night he requested I come in and see the online game he had been shown by a friend earlier that day. I replied down the hall that I was feeling kinda ill, my body was sore and my allergies were killing me and said I wasn’t really in a place to get out of bed. Could I see it tomorrow?

:clunk:
:bang:
:rustle:

Here he comes down the hall with the computer chair in front, banging the miscellaneous contraband strewn through my home.

“Hop on, Mom.” I was too sick to walk so my baby offered me a ride! How could a momma resist that? He pushed me all the way back across the upstairs, knees tucked to my chin to avoid any bruising, to see what he was up to. I offered to walk back since he made me feel much better by his gesture. But before I left he asked me,

“Mom, we should plan a date. Just the two of us. Maybe we could go to the park or to a movie and just spend time together?”

Me and my baby have a date set for Thursday to see “Alvin and the Chipmunks” and just “hang”! I couldn’t be more happy!

It was approximately a week and a half ago when I started to notice a small shimmer of light from the corner of his eye. It was quickly followed by an outburst of creative imagination. This outpouring of colorful fabrication lasted only a moment, but with it brought a refreshing gust of cool air that seemed to blow clean the dusty corners of his then shadowed mind.

Since then it has shown itself blossoming and at an amazing rate! You can hear the creaking of the rusted wheels attempting to turn faster and faster as this sleeping giant awakens. You can see the gleam of ingenuity in the eyes shortly before it spills from the tongue. The cognizance is apparent in his surprising inquiries and cunning responses.

He’s asking questions! What a word means, how something works, why certain people react in certain ways, cause and effect.

He’s playing! He’s reenacting movie scenes, making sounds while he constructs a Transformer out of K’nex and converts it into a menagerie of options, drawing cartoon characters, making up stories of passersby and “What If’s” of scenarios.

And more! So much more!

I know to many these fresh childhood moments seem commonplace and nothing to get in a tizzy over. But these exciting advancements have been so long anticipated! These are remnants of a child we’ve long missed, a passionate creativity we thought floundered, a bright young existence diminished through the mundane monotony of coerced learning, i.e. formal private education.

Just days shy of 8 months of “deschooling”, our beautiful child with his beautiful mind and happy essence has returned. The once tattered fiber of our home has been carefully and lovingly restitched into brilliantly patterned curiosity and fun!

I wrote this poem months ago in hopes of it someday being true and it is! It really is!

One recent change in our lives has been the decision to homeschool. Our idea of homeschooling has changed and continues to change drastically since we first embarked almost 8 months ago. I have found myself between two versions of home education (at the moment) and am determined to keep myself open to whatever G-d has in store.

It’s not easy.

To give a title to what we do would probably mean calling us unschoolers, although I’m not 100% there. Taken from Wikipedia, “unschooling is a form of education in which learning is based on the student’s interests, needs, and goals”. That’s only the tip of the iceberg. It’s really about nurturing a developing soul and encouraging him/her to grow without boundaries. It’s considered radical which fits me well, but as I said I’m not a 100% unschooler…yet.

We are finding the balance between the two opposing forces. Funny how my whole life has been about emotional, spiritual, and mental balance; physical balance being where I still need the most improvement!

So for the benefit of friends and family, I will blog our journey into this unknown. With all it’s stumbling and probably at least a few wrong turns, I still have faith we will get to where we are meant to be.

Here’s a little background…

My son, Z. is 7, turning 8 in August. He was placed in a private school at the age of 5 and we withdrew him in December of ’06. His total 2 and a half years in the “system” dramatically changed who he was (or at least who he had been). He went from a naturally curious, gentle-spirited and empathetic 5 year old to a negative, pessimistic 7 year old. At times I regret not pulling him out sooner (or sending him at all) but life is a lesson and I’m thankfully for what we learned. Our experience confirmed our current choice.

I was public schooled through the 9th grade when to my dismay I found that education had slowed to a crawl to allow for others to catch up. With the support of my mother, I never went back and unschooled myself until graduation. I really think it was more deschooling, decompressing from the school experience. I settled on a GED because I really didn’t care about what others thought I knew or didn’t know and almost a year after that enrolled in massage school. My work as an independent massage therapist gives me the flexibility to allow Z. to learn in freedom while still allowing me to have a personal creative outlet.

Where are we now? Justin, Z. and I are in Vegas as we have always been. I am stoking my creative writing embers (so long been doused) while with determination and occasional exhaustion trying to stoke Z.’s as well. This blog is for the benefit of both and I’ll attempt to update our happenings as often as possible. I have another just for my poetry, organicsis.blogspot.com, if your interested. And maybe Z. will even blog a little with me!

Til then, wish us luck!