Tiny Human, Tiny House-- Raising a Baby in Our Tiny House.

It’s 5:42am and my nose is being grabbed by impatient little fingers. I’d say this blasted me awake, but the baby babble has been in business for fifteen minutes and only now has quieted because Adventure Babe’s mouth is presently full of hair. My hair. I see a mischievous little grin by the light of my illuminated watch and, once I yank my frayed follicles from her toothy mouth, explain that I’m not getting out of bed until that first number is a “6”. Of course she has no idea what I’m saying and if I’m lucky she’ll spin around and start “Dadada-ing” while patting James who, wisely, has turned his back on this new morning ritual. The dog has now heard that we’re awake and his tail is thumping excitedly against the pocket door to the bedroom. I’m stubborn so we sit there for awhile until the clock strikes 6 and I roll out of bed, maneuvering pillows to form a barrier against the babe and the edge of our super tall bed. Snatch her up, dodge the pooch, and out we go to begin our day.

I get asked all the time what it’s like to have kids in the tiny house and, at least with a baby, our set up is pretty great. There is so much daylight that comes in that we don’t feel too cooped up but we are also lucky enough to be living on property that allows us to get outside as much as the February weather will allow. Babycakes, who is now 10 months of age, is an army crawling, standing-at-the-sofa, high chair-sitting machine so the containment of the tiny house is really nice for keeping tabs on where she is and what she could possibly be sticking into that mouth of hers (seriously, this kid is going to be one of those that eats furniture and rocks. Sigh). 

She has graduated out of the bulky swings and rockers that take up SO much space and which I previously vowed to keep out. All I had read of attachment parenting gave me the impression I was going to be snuggling up with my beloved child basically every hour of the day. Of course, after about a month of holding out (and holding her non-stop) I relented and let my mom bring over a baby swing she found at Goodwill. The first four months were a constant intro and exit of bulky baby gear. The minute she grew out of a swing, it was gone, either to storage in Grandpa’s basement or consignment. This quick turnover of “stuff” as it falls out of our “need” category is key to baby life (and life in general) in the tiny house. A couple other big goals for tiny house baby-life are how to keep the consumerism bug in-check when society says there are so many baby product needs, and methods to promote our zero waste goals. Also we really try to make the house baby-friendly while not having it wind up looking like a McDonald’s play place. This means nice design for her things that do need to be out and proud and being able to put away the rest with as little fuss as possible.  Balance!

Stella rocking out with Bowie in the first round of bulky baby gear (which, even with its size, was worth it!)


The second iteration in the background, plus one of the first uses of the high chair!

Since this is a pretty big topic, and in an effort to crank out more than one blog entry every two months, I’m going to hit you with a few different topics over the next couple weeks that all fall under the auspice of “Tiny Human, Tiny House”. Some are goals and methods chosen to keep our small space doable with a little one and others are parenting choices that work to keep our house a happy home, size being no object.

Keep your eyes peeled for:

Minimalism with Baby!

Co-Sleeping for Sanity (and cuddles)

A Tiny House Baby Registry

Feeding This Kid

Cloth Diapering and Other Zero Waste Wins

Babes in Nature. 

See you in a week! For real this time!

"Look Ma, No Hands!": Babywearing and Strolling on the Farm and in the Tiny House.

I'm in bumper crop go-time mode here in Chez Tiny House and even though the Little Bean is a few months from solid food, we're putting up all sorts of nomalicious seasonal eats for her when the Big Day comes. The apple and pear trees are creaking under the weight of fruit this year and I'm in a constant state of stickiness trying to pick and puree and freeze this stuff before the window of opportunity is gone. The garden, on the other hand, is SUPER LAME this year, seeing as I only planted about half the space, figuring this is going to be a tough season what with the lil babe and all.  I put off planting some things and didn't do as many plantings as I should have but the real kicker was my stupid, free range gourmand chickens ate EVERY SINGLE LITTLE BRASSICA seedling in the whole field. It first started with the winterbor kale, then they moved on to the red russian, then the broccolis were toast and down and down and down hill it went until there was nothing standing from that family of plant save some sad little stalks of leaf-gobbled kales. It was like a glutton chicken free for all! I basically got some mizuna out of the deal and, of course, never replanted it. Ey yi yi. Bad farmer! Put some fences up, woman!

Peaceful between the pear trees. 

Next year will be a different story, obviously-- we actually would like to scrape a living from growing and making food and generally that takes more than one hand. And look at this sweet little thing? I'm lucky that the little one really loves to be outside. We kind of just cruise around in the stroller and I put her under whatever tree is least likely to drop fruit on her. Brilliant! Blackberries are in full-force in Washington, too, so we've done a few rounds of picking those puppies, which I used during a farm-to-table catering gig last weekend. The babe hung around on me and her playmat but mostly wanted to just chill outside with my mom and whichever yogi felt like holding her at the time. I felt very official and had business cards printed this time around so fingers crossed that I truly can expand the catering side of Operation Homestead like I mentioned in a previous post. Ideally we'll be feeding ourselves while also making some bucks. Financially, it's feasible, especially if we start in the shallow end of the schemey pool and ease our way into it. Really the biggest thing for us is just starting rather than continuing to have these dreams and plans. So in that spirit: Next year is our year, peeps!

Super smiley blackberry help and farmer-in-training. Thank you, BOB Stroller!

Down to business with the ring sling at the yoga retreat.

To take Operation Homestead to the next level for next season I have to keep rolling with the punches as far as getting shit done with a baby goes. I'm a super pro at sitting on the couch, cruising the internet while she moves in and out of sleeping and eating but alas, it truly is so much nicer to write a blog entry with the use of both my hands (the previous one was definitely a single-finger peck-at-the-keyboard job, by the way). Multi-tasking with the Bean has been one of my struggles and triumphs, though the trouble with it is that once I think there is a new normal and I figure out how to cook/write/garden/clean the house/sleep/ read with her, she goes and mixes it up with some new developmental achievement (jeeze). At the yoga retreat cooking gig, she learned to roll for the first time and has been floor-shimmying ever since. But dude, I just bought a playmat thing since you also just started wanting to hold toys! I finally figured out how to transfer you to the bed to nap, leaving me free to do whatever my little heart desired in the wee house! It's cool, it's cool. 

I love playing with her here but she also gets a nice dose of alone-play while I cook or clean around her. Nice thing about the tiny house is she can watch me doing a lot of things and we're never too far from each other, even if in our "own" space.

Baby wearing allows me to get things done around the house and while running errands (see the above pic of me working at the yoga retreat with my squashy little assistant) but I thought I would be a maestro of "Look Ma! No Hands!" by this point and that's not exactly the case. I use the ring sling for cooking and errands and would love to use my soft sided carrier, an ONYA BABY that is similar to an Ergo around the farm, but Stella gets a heat rash every time I put her in the thing for longer than 30 minutes. We're right around the corner from her sitting up by herself, though, which means I can lose the heat-trapping infant insert and try, try again. Once that milestone hits we can actually wear her on our backs in the ONYA or in our super sweet, yet to be used Deuter kiddie frame backpack. This means I can hoe the garden without bopping her and bend and squat a little easier (plus she can check out what's going on better). Oh! And knife skills? Definitely a better situation is ahead when I don't have to look over my babe's head to see where I'm cutting. 

Fun Fact! Apparently My first word as a wee precocious babe was "Wow!", exclaimed from my position in the frame backpack while looking over my mom's shoulder into the Kitchen Aid mixer while she was baking. Appropriate much? 

The ONYA BABY at Sol Duc. Look how tiny she is!!

The surprise from left field has been the BOB Stroller. I use that thing EVERY FREAKING DAY. Pre-babe arrival I assumed I would solely babywear and James would use the stroller if he wanted but no, it's a Stapleton staple, that's for sure. Seeing as Stella loves being outside, she loves being in the stroller and I have the bonus of accomplishing something in my day. I don't use it for grocery shopping or cruising around town-- I barely even use it on trails; nope, that puppy comes out for exercising, which I talked about in the last post, and to simply wheel her to wherever I'm working outside. She stares at the trees for awhile, watches me work and maybe watches the chickens a bit, and then usually nods off pretty fast. Millions of Scandinavian moms can't be wrong! Babes thrive from sleeping outside!

So we've come a long way from the tangly mess that was the MOBY wrap, and yes, I can see myself having a "problem" acquiring kid carriers if left to my own devices, but I'm sure I have enough tools at hand and it's really just building up experience with the babe-juggling, especially as Stella gets more and more mobile. Right now she is delightfully portable and observes her surroundings on an almost creep level (seriously, she didn't blink for 30 seconds while staring me down yesterday... I counted) but this practice season that seems to be all about adjusting and experimenting gives me hope that next year when we're trying to rock this farm for real, I'll have a toolbox of experiences along with a tiny house full of carriers.

"Look Ma, No Hands!": Babywearing and Strolling on the Farm and in the Tiny House.

I'm in bumper crop go-time mode here in Chez Tiny House and even though the Little Bean is a few months from solid food, we're putting up all sorts of nomalicious seasonal eats for her when the Big Day comes. The apple and pear trees are creaking under the weight of fruit this year and I'm in a constant state of stickiness trying to pick and puree and freeze this stuff before the window of opportunity is gone. The garden, on the other hand, is SUPER LAME this year, seeing as I only planted about half the space, figuring this is going to be a tough season what with the lil babe and all.  I put off planting some things and didn't do as many plantings as I should have but the real kicker was my stupid, free range gourmand chickens ate EVERY SINGLE LITTLE BRASSICA seedling in the whole field. It first started with the winterbor kale, then they moved on to the red russian, then the broccolis were toast and down and down and down hill it went until there was nothing standing from that family of plant save some sad little stalks of leaf-gobbled kales. It was like a glutton chicken free for all! I basically got some mizuna out of the deal and, of course, never replanted it. Ey yi yi. Bad farmer! Put some fences up, woman!

Peaceful between the pear trees. 

Next year will be a different story, obviously-- we actually would like to scrape a living from growing and making food and generally that takes more than one hand. And look at this sweet little thing? I'm lucky that the little one really loves to be outside. We kind of just cruise around in the stroller and I put her under whatever tree is least likely to drop fruit on her. Brilliant! Blackberries are in full-force in Washington, too, so we've done a few rounds of picking those puppies, which I used during a farm-to-table catering gig last weekend. The babe hung around on me and her playmat but mostly wanted to just chill outside with my mom and whichever yogi felt like holding her at the time. I felt very official and had business cards printed this time around so fingers crossed that I truly can expand the catering side of Operation Homestead like I mentioned in a previous post. Ideally we'll be feeding ourselves while also making some bucks. Financially, it's feasible, especially if we start in the shallow end of the schemey pool and ease our way into it. Really the biggest thing for us is just starting rather than continuing to have these dreams and plans. So in that spirit: Next year is our year, peeps!

Super smiley blackberry help and farmer-in-training. Thank you, BOB Stroller!

Down to business with the ring sling at the yoga retreat.

To take Operation Homestead to the next level for next season I have to keep rolling with the punches as far as getting shit done with a baby goes. I'm a super pro at sitting on the couch, cruising the internet while she moves in and out of sleeping and eating but alas, it truly is so much nicer to write a blog entry with the use of both my hands (the previous one was definitely a single-finger peck-at-the-keyboard job, by the way). Multi-tasking with the Bean has been one of my struggles and triumphs, though the trouble with it is that once I think there is a new normal and I figure out how to cook/write/garden/clean the house/sleep/ read with her, she goes and mixes it up with some new developmental achievement (jeeze). At the yoga retreat cooking gig, she learned to roll for the first time and has been floor-shimmying ever since. But dude, I just bought a playmat thing since you also just started wanting to hold toys! I finally figured out how to transfer you to the bed to nap, leaving me free to do whatever my little heart desired in the wee house! It's cool, it's cool. 

I love playing with her here but she also gets a nice dose of alone-play while I cook or clean around her. Nice thing about the tiny house is she can watch me doing a lot of things and we're never too far from each other, even if in our "own" space.

Baby wearing allows me to get things done around the house and while running errands (see the above pic of me working at the yoga retreat with my squashy little assistant) but I thought I would be a maestro of "Look Ma! No Hands!" by this point and that's not exactly the case. I use the ring sling for cooking and errands and would love to use my soft sided carrier, an ONYA BABY that is similar to an Ergo around the farm, but Stella gets a heat rash every time I put her in the thing for longer than 30 minutes. We're right around the corner from her sitting up by herself, though, which means I can lose the heat-trapping infant insert and try, try again. Once that milestone hits we can actually wear her on our backs in the ONYA or in our super sweet, yet to be used Deuter kiddie frame backpack. This means I can hoe the garden without bopping her and bend and squat a little easier (plus she can check out what's going on better). Oh! And knife skills? Definitely a better situation is ahead when I don't have to look over my babe's head to see where I'm cutting. 

Fun Fact! Apparently My first word as a wee precocious babe was "Wow!", exclaimed from my position in the frame backpack while looking over my mom's shoulder into the Kitchen Aid mixer while she was baking. Appropriate much? 

The ONYA BABY at Sol Duc. Look how tiny she is!!

The surprise from left field has been the BOB Stroller. I use that thing EVERY FREAKING DAY. Pre-babe arrival I assumed I would solely babywear and James would use the stroller if he wanted but no, it's a Stapleton staple, that's for sure. Seeing as Stella loves being outside, she loves being in the stroller and I have the bonus of accomplishing something in my day. I don't use it for grocery shopping or cruising around town-- I barely even use it on trails; nope, that puppy comes out for exercising, which I talked about in the last post, and to simply wheel her to wherever I'm working outside. She stares at the trees for awhile, watches me work and maybe watches the chickens a bit, and then usually nods off pretty fast. Millions of Scandinavian moms can't be wrong! Babes thrive from sleeping outside!

So we've come a long way from the tangly mess that was the MOBY wrap, and yes, I can see myself having a "problem" acquiring kid carriers if left to my own devices, but I'm sure I have enough tools at hand and it's really just building up experience with the babe-juggling, especially as Stella gets more and more mobile. Right now she is delightfully portable and observes her surroundings on an almost creep level (seriously, she didn't blink for 30 seconds while staring me down yesterday... I counted) but this practice season that seems to be all about adjusting and experimenting gives me hope that next year when we're trying to rock this farm for real, I'll have a toolbox of experiences along with a tiny house full of carriers.

The Waning Days of My American Maternity Leave

The days of sweet maternity leave freedom are nearing their end and we at chez Tiny House are now faced with the not-so-pleasant conundrum of trying to figure out what we’ll be doing with the babe on a daily basis come mid-August. Ideally the plan would be I stay home with the Little Bean and we eke out a living on what James makes sewing canvas or, better yet, I stay home and we oomph up our canvas bucks with money made through farming! Or I stay at home and write books in the twenty minute spurts of baby-sleep and someone somehow pays me for that! Either of those ideals could go down (maybe not that last one) but most likely I’ll be back at the REI, slinging tents and teaching classes, for awhile yet. I’ve had such freedom since she was born that it will be quite the change to have to schedule every little thing out and coordinate with so many people in order to go through our daily lives. The millennial Catch-22, of course, is that childcare is too pricey (I might as well stay home) so it looks like Hubs and I get to have opposite schedules for awhile if we can swing it. Cue stress! I don’t wanna think about it yet BUT I HAVE TO.

How I'd rather be spending my day.

You know every other country aside from us and six teeny tiny developing nations in THE ENTIRE WORLD has some sort of mandatory maternity leave? Every other country. Even the ones run by dictators and the ones which don’t let women drive cars and the ones which are basically one giant refugee camp. It’s nuts. The United States is the richest country in the world and somehow this is such a non-issue that 1. People don’t even realize that we’re the odd man out and 2. People that hear the phrase “paid maternity leave” think it’s some undeserved handout. Why would investing in a good start for children be considered a handout? How can we wonder why there is such inequality in our country when the only people who can afford to stay home with their child after birth (fundamental in child development, states many a study) are those who can do so without fear of losing their job or not being able to pay rent? I am “lucky” my job gives me 6 weeks paid and 6 weeks unpaid leave, and I put that in mega, very exaggerated air quotes, because I had been told how “lucky” I am to have that at least three dozen times. By Americans. My European friends are like WTF, six weeks??? How are you supposed to bond with your baby? How can you miss those milestones? Are you even feeling well enough to go back to work? 

NYT don't lie

Oh yes, this is another thing I should add to the ignoramus count above: We are a country that has ZERO IDEA on a culture-wide level of what it means to be pregnant, give birth, and raise a baby. I am a brainy 33 years old and had to study up, take a six week class, and hire a doula because I was never taught about pregnancy or birth since it’s not in our culture to go through that kind of thing together. So since no one even knows how long it’s supposed to take to form a good breastfeeding relationship, to bond with your babe, or to heal after birth how are we supposed to expect the dudes making our laws to prioritize that? A flashback to my awesome birth story here—do you REMEMBER where they stuck that needle and where I had that tear?! How can someone be expected to go back to work within a couple weeks of that (and, in the case of many women, within days)? So yes, I am lucky because I had a not-too difficult birth, a few more weeks to heal, and a supportive hubby and family around to be ordered around by yours truly for two weeks after Beancake was born. But that’s not the norm.

And since my “luck” is quickly running out, we’re in go-time to figure out a way to get me back home with the babe. If we budget like crazy we could do it now—the $435 house payment doesn’t exactly break the bank each month, though my bi-weekly Central Market shopping sprees sure do, but most likely I’ll need to have some sort of home-based income. My years of farming would certainly come in handy here but naturally we need some land to get started (Seriously…Do you have an acre or two in Kitsap you want to see full of heirloom veggies and sweet little Stapletons? Let me know in the comments below and I’ll give you as much kale and tomatoes and gratitude as your little heart could desire). When my internet pleas for vacant pasture land fails, there’s always the possibility of building up the catering biz, or going to a farmers market to sell something value-added, like homemade pasta that we make with eggs from our chickens and roll out for custies right there at the booth. All this stuff I could do on my own time and still have my sassy little sidekick along for the ride.

 Future noodles?

I’ll keep you posted on our budget plans and what scheme comes out on top in the short term. For now I will be pinching the pennies, preserving food we’ve grown for when the Little Lady starts on solids in a few months, and put all dreams of traveling with her while she’s still free to fly on hold. Fingers crossed the joys outweigh the money stresses!