My 2 yr old is reaching for a basket. She’s in my arms and it’s just out of her reach. She grunts and says “Help me reach it mommy” (but not like that, it’s more like 2 words “hewlpme reachitmommy”) and I lean over so she can reach.
I discover she was really reaching for the crochet hook inside. It’s hooked around one of the basket’s bottom pieces of straw, so the basket comes, too. She laughs “gottit bakstick mommy” and I turn to see why she’s laughing. She’s fumbling to get the basket off the hook.
I’d rather her play with the basket than the hook. It looks like she’s caught a fish. I tell her so and she thinks it’s funny.
She frees the crochet hook and looks in the basket. (which seems way more fun than the hook now, luckily) There’s nothing in there, obviously. She gives me a funny look. “Got fish in there?” She asks me. I said “You do?” and she decides that this is fun and plays along.
“Yeah, I got jellyfish in there, hold it.” I had a traumatic jellyfish issue in Hawaii when I was 9. Portugese man-o-wars, to be exact. I strung them all over my arms and stomped around the beach like a sea monster. A few hours later I was soaking in the tub with herbs and potions under the supervision of the local witch doctor, waiting for the swelling to go down and for signs of emergency, which would involve an air lift to the hospital. It wasn’t much fun. Nor was it fun that my Grandma stood over in the doorway, alerting everyone in the neighborhood that my breasts had begun to develop. To this day, I think she scared them. I’m not messing with jellyfish, I tell my daughter.
“No way, jellyfish sting, I don’t want to hold jellyfish.” “Oh” she looks down, a little dismayed, so I suggest she catches another kind of fish. She dumps the jellyfish back into the imaginary sea and catches “nahwahn fish” (another one fish) to show me. We admire the fish. it’s wet and floppy. She says that it “yooks yummy” but I’m not so easily convinced. She wants to go upstairs and show the girls. But first, she dumps out the new fish in order to catch more jellyfish.
So I go upstairs with her because it’s time for the nightly bedtime ritual anyway. I’ve mentioned before that we don’t have bedtimes, instead we just hang out and the kids still fall asleep.
Just because we don’t have a bedtime, it doesn’t mean we don’t go to bed, and it doesn’t mean we don’t have similar bedtime rituals. Ours are just more fun
Generally, We snuggle in on the 9 yr old’s bed, I go through a nightly checklist “did you brush your teeth?” and when the answer isn’t “yes of course” I sometimes ask “are you going to?” (only one sometimes doesn’t want to. A piggyback ride down the stairs usually solves it, she doesn’t like to be downstairs alone) Then we make sure feet are clean, especially in the summer. We make sure jammies are on, I collect the dirty clothes basket, helping make sure their toy are put away and sometimes we watch a movie.
The other day we had a great time making friendship bracelets. Sometimes we just tell stories or play word games or board games. Usually we read books, They each pick one (because I can guarantee I won’t fall asleep through 1 book each. If I’m still conscious when those are done, I’ll read more. The limit of 1 book is imposed because I tend to fall asleep reading and jumble the words, which the find amusing until they discover I can’t read anymore.
Tonight, I went in to escort Evelyn & her jellyfish, then read to them (not knowing exactly what was in store, I never do).
When we reached the top of the stairs, she goes in to my 16 yr old’s room first. “Embahlee, yookit, i got jellyfish. see jellyfish. yookit me bakstick (basket)” and she proceeds to show Emilee her basket and Emilee is notably impressed. Then we head out (cordial goodbyes and goodnights included) While I’m busy giving Emilee a goofy look, Evelyn is yelling to me from the hall “gum on mommy yets go” We arrive into the younger girl’s room and Evelyn goes from girl to girl, telling them about her jellyfish. They’re almost completely ignoring her and she’s annoyed, so I announce out loud. “Evelyn has caught some jellyfish in her basket and came all the way upstairs to show you girls.”
Within 5 minutes, we’re all sitting on the bed, pretending to catch fish in the ocean from our boat (the bed).
So yes, it’s true. We don’t have bedtimes.
But we do have bedtime rituals, which consist of enjoying each moment together until our bodies would rather sleep.
We sing songs, we make art projects, we watch documentaries, web videos, broadway shows and silent movies and old musicals or music videos, we draw or write or work out puzzles in schoolbooks or coloring books. Our bedtime stories, when we read them (sometimes 20 minutes a day, sometimes 90 minutes, sometimes zero minutes a day, even a week at times) may be fiction or nonfiction, color or black and white, classic or new or used, bought with allowance or given as a gift. They may be bestsellers, and sometimes they suck. Sometimes they’re not even in English, or a language we understand. It’s not about the books, it’s about the time we spend together. And falling asleep should be a pleasant part of one’s day.
So no, we don’t have a bedtime and we don’t fight about going to sleep. I’m not concerned about their sleeping habits because I don’t make a habit of scheduling things that will interfere with their natural sleepy times.
I’m not afraid that they won’t “learn to sleep” because they already know how to sleep. I don’t feel the need to manipulate their sleep times. It’s exhausting enough keeping up with their awake times.
After the deep-sea fishing expedition, we settled down. When the girls agreed upon tonight’s bedtime plan, we were to watch Dora the Explorer, then the 2nd half of Hannah Montana (they fell asleep last time, so we agreed that we’d have to watch the rest tonight)
The kids laughed at me when I mistakenly referred to “The Hoedown Throw Down” as “The Barnyard Stomp.” I was impressed that they knew the entire dance. That’s Gabriella’s favorite song. Because Gabriella got to play her favorite song for me, we needed to play Madelyn’s, too. She’s 6 and teeny, shrimpy, petite and squeaky. But she knows all the words to “The Climb” and I really had to fight back the tears. Who knew Hannah Montana had such a positive message? I sure hope she maintains her good-girl image.
Anyway, I asked the girls where they wanted the dolls (because the bed was covered with barbies, all of whom were arranged in rows, with swimsuits and beach blankets (made of socks and washcloths)
Grace swooshed them all off the bed into a pile in one motion. I started picking them up & said “Which toybox do these belong in?’ and Gabriella (not at all offended by Grace’s swooshing, by the way) said “They don’t go in a toybox, mom. They have a life, you know. They each go to their own houses, and she proceeded to place them all over the room, carefully into lifelike positions. The other girls seemed to know where each doll’s house is and what position they should be in. Most of the dolls were in beds, but some were sitting and reading, others were on their computer, one had to get in the car & drive all night to get to the airport and some were on the phone (presumably with each other)
The putting Barbies “away” took about ten minutes and when it was complete, I asked that the light be turned off so we could watch the movie. Someone pushed play & we watched the rest of the film, snuggled in together. By the time it ended, only I was awake.
I headed downstairs feeling like the luckiest mom in the world. When I hear other moms say “I know you don’t have a bedtime but I need to put my kids to bed at 7:30 or I will go crazy” I just shake my head. I’m not sure what they picture, but nothing is more fun or relaxing than allowing sleep to come, giving in to what the children want and just being present with them, approaching the end of the day with love and patience, allowing things to be put in order and letting love define the time, rather than the clock.
So what if it was almost 10:30 when I left their room. Instead of going in at 6am to wake them up (before the sun rises) for school, I get to sip my coffee (relishing one of the rare silent moments in my day) tiptoe in and kiss their foreheads. I get to make pancakes in peace and quiet, wondering which child will wake up to the smell & greet me with stinky kisses first. I’m not a morning person. Peacefulness and love, to begin and end each day, that’s what I need for my sanity.
I really love it when I realize I’m failing at something because it gives me a clear and present opportunity to improve. Seriously.
So a friend of mine, who is enrolled in a political science class, emails me to send me a quote from a Supreme court judge who is dealing with a case where a high school student was suing for a 1st amendment violation. The quote is:
when States developed public education systems in the early 1800’s, no one doubted the government’s ability to educate and discipline children as private schools did. Like their private counterparts, early public schools were not places for freewheeling debates or exploration of competing ideas. Rather, teachers instilled “a core of common values” in students and taught them self-control. Reese 23; A. Potter & G. Emerson, The School and the Schoolmaster: A Man-ual 125 (1843) (“By its discipline it contributes, insensibly, to generate a spirit of subordination to lawful authority, a power of self-control, and a habit of postponing present indulgence to a greater future good . . .”
By that measure, apparently, schools really are succeeding. They’re reaching their initial goal, as planned, to raise generations of Americans who don’t debate or ask questions, blindly trusting their leadership. So there it is.
Me being me, however, I kept replaying the words in my mind throughout the day, emphasizing each syllable differently, to see if the meaning could possibly be anything else, more innocent, more sinister, ANYTHING.
I’m moving through my “tasks-I-do-when-the-kids-are-very-involved-in-something” like hanging the laundry and doing the dishes. The kids were making miniature books upstairs, measuring, cutting, planning, designing… I overhear a fight between the girls and I listen long enough to get the gist of it and then I head upstairs to “say something.”
I swear, I should just keep my mouth shut. Why am I homeschooling when words of wisdom like this can extinguish any debate and communication that my kids DESERVE to engage in. Here’s what I said:
“I am sure that when she called it her room she wasn’t trying to minimize the fact that it’s your room, too. Stop picking apart every word that she says and trying to make it into a fight. So she said it was her room. Big deal. it’s your room, too. And just because she says “my room” that doesn’t make it any less “your room”
Then I went downstairs. Surely in my wake they were filed with peacefulness at having the situation resolved, right? Fat chance.
So in one bossy-mom-sick-of-hearing-the-arguing-incident, I managed to squash one of my favorite personal traits, and that is the picking-apart-of-language-to-get-the-deeper-meaning and also, standing up for oneself, defending property and debating semantics…. all of it, out the window, just because my sensitive ears were bothered.
Debate is so very important for civilized society. I hate conflict, my sister and I fought a lot as kids. Is there a link? We always got in trouble for fighting. Does that matter? As a mom I am always wanting to protect my kids (even from one another), but when I look back at my childhood, I don’t remember very much fighting. I don’t think I was as much influenced by the fights as I was by the feeling that “fighting is bad.”
I am so sick, today, of examining every thought I have in order to determine whether or not it’s worth keeping or tossing. The inclination to squash their fights and sort things out for them definitely needs to go. Sibling rivalry is totally a healthy way to learn about communication. Animal siblings do it and humans should, too.
Had their fight continued, they both might have come away with a deeper understanding of the need to communicate precisely. They might have physically hurt one another. They might have come away bitter about the distinction between mine and yours. they might have revisited the argument months later when the other sister made the dire mistake of saying “my room” instead of “our room” or perhaps the room-claimer would have been able to explain her way out of it, or apologize. Either way. I shouldn’t have stepped in. Kids have the right to communicate their feelings with one another honestly and openly. The best thing I can probably do for them is to model communication skills. Eventually, they’ll copy. I see this every day, they copy my good and my bad “behavior.”
This is their journey, not mine. If they feel the need to say hurtful things to one another, they deserve to see the honest result of that decision, not ME standing there, passing judgment upon their character, criticizing their instinctive communication, evaluating their worth, or predicting a life of misery.
I reserve the right, though, to call it like I see it. Instead of “seeing” a fight that needs resolved, I could have chosen to see “kids that could use some apple juice” and shouted upstairs to see who wants some.
While I probably won’t be marching upstairs to force peace upon them anymore (especially if I get an ipod for Xmas) I can totally discuss conflict resolution methods with them during peaceful times. In fact, we do that all the time.
This is where media comes in. Books, television and movies are filled with conflict and almost always, the viewers can think of different ways that the main character could have handled the situation.
The Thomas Jefferson method of homeschooling, which, along with the trivium, is the backbone for all classical education curricula, is highly dependent upon discussion. That’s right, talking. Our house sounds like a hen house sometimes with all of the girls involved in lengthy debates over the books they’re reading or the movies they’ve seen.
(Hey- another reason I need an ipod, my older girls & I can listen to audio books)
Anyway- the literature and books you read, discuss and debate become part of you. Some families use this as an excuse for limiting the books they allow their children to readfall in love with learn from. A lady in our local homeschool group wouldn’t let her son read Harry Potter because of this. I’m so NOT into censorship, and I believe that there’s good to be found in everything. We loved Harry Potter, and saw every movie the minute it opened, waited in line at midnight for the books to be released (in costume, no less) Our debates and discussions about the HP series were fantastic, and none of us came away with thoughts of malice. How could we?
So if anyone can name a book or movie where the characters debate everything based upon the meanings of the words, something that my 9 and 6-yr-olds would appreciate, then please let me know. Because this is the depth of how far I feel comfortable intervening. I can’t wait to look back & say “remember when you girls used to fight about every single word.” Hopefully the end result will be a deep and full understanding of the workings of language and increased, tried-and-tested communication skills.
And the pointless after-words: (because I don’t “do” short stories very well) is that on November 19th he went in and once January rolls around we can be quite sure and positive that every last one of them will be gone and we can MOVE ON from this phase in life (as much as we love it, of course)
Trying to explain to the kids was funny, though. They like to wrestle with him and jump on him. Madelyn (6) was worried to pieces when she heard he had surgery, she thought for sure there was something wrong. I mean, people don’t just GET surgery for no reason, right?
And Grace (4) was concerned that we “didn’t want any more kids.” She thought we were saying that we “don’t want kids anymore” and she was crying, she said “But we still want you” and it was the most adorable, pathetic thing, she just about broke my heart.
I spent some time reassuring her and explaining it a little more, I am sure that she understands better now. It’s just a reminder to take the time to communicate with kids (to their understanding) and to stay “connected” to be sure that they’re feeling secure and safe.
So anyway- that’s the biggest thing I am thankful for. Here are a few others:
1- I’m grateful for the luxury to work from home, control my own income and set my own hours, I wish I could share that with more moms.
2- I’m grateful that even though our families are all so far away, we’re able to keep in touch over Facebook and the kids can have relationships with our families, too even though we rarely see them in real life.
3- I’m grateful for my kids who are so fun to be around. Nothing is more fun than watching them grow up and embrace this amazing world that we live in. I love their righteous indignation at the world’s injustices. I love their questioning nature, grilling me for details so they can come to their own conclusions. I love to see their passions develop, to watch them learn about the world simply by doing what they enjoy. I love how quickly they notice the beauty in everything around them.
I see a rock, they see a million colorful spots all coming together into one mass that looks gray from just a few inches away. I see a ladybug and they see a small life, crawling along for a reason. They wonder where he’s going and why. They wonder what he’s feeling- is he scared of them? I wonder if I should step on it.
4- I’m grateful for blogging because of the wonderful friends I’ve made online and the women who inspire me, encourage me and make me a better mom
5- I’m grateful for my real-life friends, nothing can quite compare to girlfriends, can it? I hope that you are all enjoying this day with your families, and looking forward to dinner at the Indian restaurant in December, the roller-skating party, the Mom’s Xmas party, and exchanging cheer this holiday season.
6- I am grateful to live in a world where everything we want is within reach. Knowledge is free, a diverse field of perspectives and views enable us to see our own more clearly, and humans are ready to share their experiences, interest and knowledge with one-another, for the good of all.
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A word about our Thanksgiving “Dinner.”
The way that cooking has developed in our home over the past few months, we’re taking a very nontraditional approach to Thanksgiving this year.
I slow-roasted the turkey overnight (yep, it was completely frozen when I stuck it in the oven at 5 p.m. and I just took it out at 5 a.m. When the kids get up we’ll have banana pancakes and as they’re ready they’ll pop into the kitchen to make their side-dish with me. I haven’t done Thanksgiving in such a small kitchen before, so we plan to just cook and eat all day, without a specific meal time, probably. It’s not like we all fit at the table anyway.
We generally go see a movie on Thanksgiving but we’ve decided to save up money to attend the Unschooler’s Adventure cruise to Jamaica, Haiti and Cozumel in April.
It’s a very lofty goal, but our travel come-documentary that we’ve been working on for the past 6 years is coming into fruition as we speak. We have assembled an awesome team of producers who are passionate about the product and have worked their butts off making it something better than even we imagined. (and we’re quite imaginative)
I wish I could announce more about that, give me a week or so and you’ll hear all about it. Let’s just say that we have quite an adventure planned over the next year.
About that Cruise- Jamaican beaches, The warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico, Ancient Mayan Ruins, can I even express how much my heart swells to think that my family could be present in the same space as something so fascinating and ancient.
And also to share a great blog I found from a family who lives in their RV. It’s called Where the Fuhkaui. I love their blog’s tagline:
“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely. Broad, wholesome, charitable views can not be acquired by vegetating in one’s little corner of Earth.” – Mark Twain
Sometimes when homeschoolers or unschoolers are trying to explain how life and learning are naturally integrated, they use the example of cooking. I tried to intellectualize it in the article Cooking with Kids, but last night’s dinner hour was particularly good example of this “in action.”
All my girls love to cook. In fact, I was telling a friend the other day that sometimes we don’t have official “meals” because there’s someone cooking something all day long. A plate full of crackers with melted cheese, a blender full of fruit smoothies, a recipe someone saw on TV or invented from scratch. With so many people who like to cook, dividing our meals into specific menus really made it more work than is necessary.
Maddy (6) & Gabriella (8) like cook and serve food. When I am in my room working and the older girls are upstairs doing whatever t is older girls do (gossip, watch TV, write stories and song, dance or listen to music…) Maddy & Gabriella like to come around and offer everyone food.
Last night I was making dinner and Maddy came in, saying “I need a pan… the noodle-y kind”
In the past, I may have said “what for?” or otherwise grilled her, and come to the conclusion that since I’m making Dinner, she doesn’t need to cook. Instead, though, I just accepted that she needed a pan and decided to work on dinner alongside her, as equals.
So I opened the dishwasher (they rarely get a chance to cool off and get put away until we need them again) and I showed her all the clean noodle pans, she rejoiced with so much enthusiasm, saying “You are a master.” I thought that was pretty cute, but the conversation just kept getting better.
So we’re cooking together, she told Emilee that she’d make her a Top Ramen (blech) She knew how to prepare it all by herself. I wanted to carry the pan full of water for her, but we settled on having me bring it down from the sink. (me, being a control freak)
So she carried it to the stove, not missing a single drop. (physics)
Afterward, I said “Wow Maddy, I underestimated you. You really kept that balanced well” and she said “thank you. I know how to cook things because you showed me. I can just see you doing things and it makes me see that I can do them, too.” (self awareness, love of learning, gratitude, communication)
I was unloading the dishwasher when she said that and it was so relaxed and easy just being together. She was so proud, so articulate. (LIFE- kids are wiser than we give them credit for)
We made jello together, too. It was her first time making it. She was surprised that it was made with hot water because when she eats it, it’s cold. We discussed how the hot water melts the crystals and makes them swell up and the refrigeration glues them back together. (chemistry, physics) We measured water (doubling the recipe for math)
Both Maddy and Grace wanted to pour the crystals into the bowl. It takes 2 boxes for our family, so Grace (4) poured the first one and Maddy poured the second one. I pointed out that the pink Jello mix was the same color as their jammies. When we poured water into it, the girls pointed out that the red liquid was the same color as my shirt. We discussed the idea that everything pink turns red when wet and decided that it depends what it is. Pink toys won’t turn red. pink paint won’t turn red and their jammies would just look darker. (science, math, communication)
When the noodles she was making her sister were ready, I brought them out with a fork and asked “does she like the noodles with a lot of broth or a little? Maddy said a little and we both agreed that she preferred more firm noodles rather than mushy ones. Although Maddy likes them better mushy and I don’t like them at very much all. Maddy said “Everybody likes different things mommy, and that’s OK” (scientific observation, communication, Psychology)
Then she said “nobody would like cabbage and radish and (list of yucky things) in their noodles” so I said “there are some things everyone agrees upon, huh” I reminded her that perhaps in some country, some people eat that every day and it’s their favorite thing. (social studies)
She carried the soup upstairs to her sister, brought down the dirty dishes and said “Mom, I love cooking with you.”
These are the times that I wish more people understood. There’s no need to “make learning fun” because it already is. All we need to do is relax, and share our lives with our children. imagine- trying to pack all of that into a lesson plan for a first grader. Look at the insanity of standardized education. Look at what we would NOT have learned if I had said “I’m making dinner, sweetie. get out of the kitchen.”
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Upstairs, while we were cooking Dinner and the three oldest were watching a movie, Emilee asked Gabriella (8) what she should put as her facebook status.
Gabriella’s response:
” follow your heart, your heart will lead you to where you want to go.”
Watching my kids learn has been the most fascinating aspect of not sending them to school. Partly, I’m sad for the children whose education isn’t self-driven, because the “love of learning” face that toddlers are known for grows more beautiful the older a child gets.
At 4, Grace is very helpful around the house. Recently, she wanted to help me fold laundry. She sat by my side, wadding things up into little blobs while I obsessively created perfect folded squares. She looked at her pile and said “Mommy, show me how you fold.” So I did, we started with long sleeve shirts and she mastered it after 2-3 of them. Madelyn (6) came in and Grace was beaming at her new “pile” of perfectly folded shirts.
At 6, Madelyn is enjoying writing notes. Of course it’s faster to speak out loud but she is enjoying writing notes. She’s been playing Farmville and Yoville and some other silly FaceBook games and she has friends who write her notes while she plays. She loves chatting online with her friends and has decided that she’d rather communicate with everyone in writing. I must have spelled “I love you” out loud for her a thousand times last week. She doesn’t want me to write it for her to copy, she just wants me to say the names of the letters, including spaces and punctuation, for her to transcribe. She runs into the room several times a day to ask “Mom, how do you spell “get your stinky feed off of my pillow or you can’t be on my bed anymore” or maybe “Please please please get out of the bathroom I need to pee.” If I don’t say “space” or comma” when it’s time, she gives me an odd look. If a word doesn’t look right to her, she says “Are you sure this is spelled right?” At the end of each note, she EXPECTS a period, a question mark or an exclamation mark.When I don’t tell her to write one, she asks “Is this a complete sentence?
The kids have set up a system of mailboxes at everyone’s door and spend all day long passing notes throughout the house. So they’re learning to write and read and use punctuation and capitalization through love, through the desire to communicate. At this point, I can’t even imagine another way anymore. Imagine being assigned “Write “I love you” fifty times today. Wouldn’t that be ridiculous? It’s become increasingly ridiculous to me that kids are taught reading and writing OUTSIDE of the desire to communicate. THAT is what reading and writing are for. No wonder schools fail, when written communication is irrelevant.
At 12, Meagan spent many years as a victim of our aggressive work schedules. There just wasn’t much time or money to do the things she wanted to do. She always wanted to do Soccer but I could never find the sign-up information and Saturday 7am practices and games were NOT something we wanted to participate in. Actually- here, they practice like 3 days a week and play games on Saturdays at the crack of Dawn. So this year she decided she wants to take tapdancing. It works for us. We signed her up for a class for her age group and all of the girls in the class have been dancing since they were toddlers. The teacher showed them the dance really quickly. Meagan felt a bit lost, like she was in over her head. She set up the laptop in the kitchen and watched youtube to learn the beginner’s moves. She practiced tapping in the kitchen for hours and hours and hours. She didn’t even consider giving up. At class yesterday, she remembered the entire routine. She practices at home all the time. It’s noisy, but beautiful. She’s taking jazz, too and her smile is just phenomenal when she dances.
Learning is beautiful, when it’s rooted in love. Sometimes it’s my 6 yr old pleased to present us with personalized love notes or surprising us with notes she’s spelled on her own. Sometimes it’s my 4 yr old screaming at anyone who tries to fold a long-sleeve shirt because that’s her responsibility and sometimes it’s my 12 yr old tapdancing in the kitchen at 2am.
I am not a “morning person.” I wake up confused, my eyes are blurry, my voice is gritty and my body moves slowly. I tumble into the kitchen, straight for the coffee pot and stare at it cross-eyed until there’s enough to fill my cup. Sometimes I squat in the kitchen so I don’t have to use any muscles or energy to stand up.
Because of this (and the fact that it’s easier for me to work when they’re asleep) I get up between 5 and 6 a.m. while my kids don’t start waking up until 9 or so.
I have a happier day when I can wake up to peace and take care of my needs for coffee,solitude and silence before tending to the needs of the children. The kids have a happier day when the first words they hear are “Good morning sunshine” rather than “quit stomping on the stairs please.”
Most of my kids wake up chipper and happy, eager to get on with the business of whatever they’re interested in. Sometimes in the night, they find their way into my bed. There’s always someone extra in there when we wake up. This morning it was Grace, she’s 4 years old. She wakes up and rubs her eyes a little, looks around the room and smiles when I say “good morning.” Then she turns and snuggles in, saying “good morning” to the baby, kissing each one of her little toes. Within minutes, they’re giggling, kissing and hugging and asking for pancakes.
When the pancakes are ready, they come to the table, holding hands and Grace insists that their plates be identical this morning. Matching plates are rare in our house
Madelyn (6) comes down the stairs, we can hear her stomping. She’s a skinny little girl but sometimes I think she’s trying to press her foot through the stairs. Her first words to her sisters are “good morning” and she gives them each a kiss before sitting at the table for pancakes.
The other kids are asleep, it’s just me and the younger half most mornings. I don’t usually eat breakfast, I usually zip over to my computer to finish up whatever it is that I was working on when they woke up. As they finish their breakfast, they’re planning their first adventure for the day. “Grace, wanna go pick flowers with me?” or “Maddy I’m going to take a bath.” Every day it’s something new.
Some days I have surprises planned. Whether it’s an art project or a “field trip” (is there a non-school-y term for this… going somewhere just to learn more?) they’re usually excited about the plans I make. Since we both work from home, everyone doesn’t HAVE to go with us.
So what do your mornings look like? I was listening to a call-in radio show where the caller said something about how he can’t work from home because his kids go to school, the house is too loud in the morning. The host said “I know what you mean man, mornings are the worst.” Which was followed by an article I stumbled across that was trying to teach parents how to help their kids wake up in the morning for school.
I found the advice a bit sad, “Don’t let them press snooze” was probably the most painful. I remember how much I hated waking up for school as a kid, especially in high school. I’ve often thought that the “answer” to some of the problems schools have would be to operate a set of classes between noon and 6pm instead of forcing everyone to comply with the 8am-2pm thing. What’s wrong with waking up and getting a good start to the day. With school kids and their parents so over-scheduled, a 12noon start-time might help everyone start their day with a hearty breakfast and a peaceful home instead of the yelling, stress and rushing around that I hear so much about. Sure, some people function better in the morning, I’m not one of them, though.
I’m kinda sick of seeing so many programs for kids in poverty.
All over the place, it’s like saying that it’s expensive to help your kids be healthy or to learn or something. That could not be farther from the truth. Knowledge is everywhere, information is free. Everything a child could ever want or need to know can be conveyed without spending a dime, simply through conversation or google.
There’s absolutely no logical reason that a child from a family with an income of x should be at a disadvantage upon entering kindergarten than a child whose parents earn xxx,xxx. no reason at all. In fact, I will speculate that a mom who makes it her job to communicate with her kids all day, playing games and having fun, instead of working outside the home will bring down the family’s income base and possibly cause her kids to be “at risk” from a financial standpoint.
Oh wait- our government offers financial incentives for working women, bringing down their base income so that they can afford childcare. Does that mean that two-income families can also be “at risk?”
I think we need to change the terminology here because raising kids on a low income doesn’t automatically make them less intelligent, less healthy or otherwise place them at a disadvantage, period. In fact, I reckon that the TRUE cause of poor health in children is not poverty, but poor nutrition and lack of exercise, both of which our country promotes and encourages by spending so much money funding the processed food industry and promoting “early childhood education” which involves turning active, interested and engaged little children into mindless lazy robots.
Growing your own food and eating fresh local produce is not expensive. Eating processed foods causes malnutrition. For children to get exercise, all they need is open space outdoors. Most parks don’t charge admission. If you have a yard, that’s even better. People give away bicycles all the time if you don’t have the $100 or so that it takes to buy one brand new. You could also get one at a yard sale. Working in that homegrown garden is also a great way to get exercise. Perhaps children who aren’t getting exercise, regardless of their parent’s financial situation, are lacking energy from proper nutrition or aren’t allowed to play outside.
Where is this information that impoverished kids are at a disadvantage? Seriously, I’d like to see something that proves, statistically (because that’s how I am) that children of any race are at a disadvantage simply because of their parent’s economic situation, and not because of the rest of their lifestyle.
There isn’t any, because money is just a SYMBOL. Money is made up. Our income level means absolutely nothing when it comes to the health or intelligence of our kids, it’s WHAT WE EAT and HOW WE LIVE that puts kids at risk, not the income. When “poor” families choose to grow a vegetable garden, they can eat like kings on a grocery budget that’s just a fraction of what the average American spends eating junk.
In poorer areas of the world where they grow all their own food, they don’t have the health problems we have here (obesity, diabetes, cancer) because they’re eating REAL FOOD and not high fructose corn syrup or other garbage, refined flours, isolated starches and preservatives.
The numbers in the checkbook don’t mandate which books I read my children. In fact, did you know that “The Classics” which are supposed to make kids smarter as per the Thomas Jefferson method of education and the Well Trained Mind, are available for free download because they’re in the public domain. So don’t go complaining that your extensive literature collection cost a fortune, that’s a CHOICE. Once again, an impoverished family could share the same exposure to The Great Books that a family with money can. And libraries are free.
I know plenty of families who manage to live well on a low income. I also know plenty of moms with high family incomes who are saving and investing much of their income, rather than spending it on whatever it is that is supposed to make their kids smarter, and basically enjoying the same free and cheap lifestyle choices that the “poverty” moms do. The children are experiencing the same lifestyle, and both thriving. It’s not the bank balance that gives kids an advantage.
We’ve had our financial ups and downs over the years and there are advantages to both. That’s right, there are advantages to poverty and disadvantages to having money.
Our health care needs have not changed over the years, we rarely get ill. Mainly, what we miss when our income is low would be traveling. Surely there are studies showing that kids who travel are at an advantage, right? And how do they define disadvantaged anyways?
I’m not that impressed by all these programs that spend a fortune buying formula (with taxpayers money) for women who could be nursing (for free) and so called “nutrition” programs that buy a certain number of dairy products and processed cereals, with no regard for their cost, instead of actually teaching women how to read nutrition labels and grow a garden (SURPRISE- real food doesn’t even HAVE labels) Then, when kids are pumped full of high fructose corn syrup (subsidized by the government) they get state-funded health care for all the cavities and medical problems that the processed foods cause.
It’s not poverty that causes children to be ill or lack intelligence, it’s stupidity and well-intentioned “solutions” that presume to know all the answers without factoring in the importance of frugality, honoring nature’s design and the importance of healthy human relationships.
Even my very favorite magazine, Mothering, is guilty of this. So many times I’ve seen articles about “America’s poverty crisis.” In my mind, it’s not the poverty that’s a problem. It’s the decisions that families make about how to live, what to eat and how to entertain and transport themselves that impact a child’s experiences.
These programs for poverty do ONE productive thing, and that’s to send a message to parents and children that without money, you have no hope. Without money, you can’t take care of yourself. Without money, you have to depend upon the government for help. Why are these programs so widely publicized? Because a fearful population is easy to control.
Surely the IRS could raise funds by operating an opt-in mailing program, distributing information to families whose income ratio meets certain requirements, based upon tax returns. That would probably be cheaper than having each individual poverty-based-resource out there posting billboards, television and magazine ads perpetuating the myth that lack of income is the sole factor in determining a family’s effectiveness, instead of focusing on the OTHER factors like lifestyle, nutrition and happiness.
Poverty is a symptom, or perhaps a side effect, but not a disease.
And with that, I leave you with a video that you simply MUST watch if you’re making any kind of car payment.
The trip we just took to San Juan was exhausting, but wonderful. In my mind, being stuck in the car for hours was probably the worst part. Having 8 souls with different needs occupying a mere 25 square feet (my guess) makes for some piercing shrieks, lots of crumbs, inopportune pee breaks, cramped bodies that want to lay and stand and climb rather than sitting still and disagreements over the radio.
Nonetheless, the morning after we returned home, I found the kids in the living room playing car with all of the dining room chairs. I was mopping the kitchen and moved the chairs into the living room. ince we don’t really have a dining room right now, our table is in the kitchen.
Evelyn is actually sitting in a car seat that gGrace had grown out of and the baby doll is sitting in the infant seat that Evelyn grew out of. They had water bottles and even backpacks (stowed under the seat in front of them like an airplane) They sat there “driving” for at least half an hour. They sang to the music on the radio, they promised to get off at the next exit to go potty, they saw amazing things out the window and when they finally “arrived’ at their destination the backseat passengers all climbed out one door.
Best of all, the kitchen floor was able to dry without little footprints on it, or anyone getting hurt. It’s not that I don’tt love little footprints, but come on, we’ve had little footprints for the past 15 years. Hooray for road trips:)
Wow- can this have been the best day in our family’s life so far? We arrived at the loading dock for the ferry on time, since I misread the itinerary and didn’t realize that our crossing was figured into the time line. There’s nothing like thinking you’ll be driving for 2 hours and only ending up driving for an hour. Anyways, the hotel breakfast wasn’t much to speak of. I always realize what a picky eater I am at hotel breakfasts. Thank goodness it’s complimentary, and that my kids aren’t nearly as picky as I am. Give them some mini boxes of cereal, juice they can dispense themselves, individually wrapped tablespoons of cream cheese on cold bagels and my girls are in heaven. And coffee, with flavored creamers. Isn’t vacation fun? Crabby old me wants to wake up with PROTEIN- so I get a cold, hard-boiled egg. At least there’s that, though. Some places don’t even have that.
The ferry ride to the island was an adventure. Madelyn, always cautious, wanted to understand how all these heavy cars could possibly stay afloat. Gabriella was fascinated by the nesting birds at the dock- swooping down into the water to bring seaweed and small fish to their babies in the nests. We all wondered how the baby birds would be affected by nesting over water. (If their first flying lessons go awry, do they swim back to the pole and – then what?) We also wondered if Octopus Giganticus ate birds. We all got to play titanic, closing our eyes against the wind at the front of the boat, like flying.
Landing in Friday harbor was fun, it’s absolutely adorable. It’s so clean, there’s a fine of over $1000 for littering, which includes cigarette butts. The weather was perfect, and I mean P to the E to the R – you know what I mean, sunny but not too hot, slight breeze of fresh, clean ocean air with occasional whiffs of lavendar from the lavender farm store, absolutely beautiful.
Funny thing- we took a little stroll downtown, husband was hungry. They have a bunch of little shops and art galleries. We just kept walking past them. I was getting annoyed, so I said “Honey. maybe it’s a girl thing, but every time we walk past a store or gallery, we want to go inside. Some look less interesting than others, and we don’t have a schedule, but we can’t just keep walking past everything.” WHEW- he got it, and we all scattered into three different groups, to see the most recent place-that-was-calling-us-in. We LOVED the lavender store, but chose not to visit the farm. The homemade ice cream- well, after owning a gelato shop for several years, can I say I was totally NOT impressed with the homemade ice cream, but the man who owned the place was very nice. The art gallery was lovely- I’m not sure which one we went into, but my older girls learned of a shwimaanakku (spelling murder, sorry) legend, that they had to write down to look up, it involves a stone monument that they liked. We also saw a few souvenir shops, My oldest daughter spent her allowance on the coolest heart key chain thing, with beads- it’s called a “forever heart” I think and you can put different beads in it. I tried to convince her to get the “I love my mom” bead, but she insisted she’d rather have something red.
We got into the car and drove to the other side of the island for lunch. OMG- no mini marts, no corner stores, no nothing. It’s pristine and absolutely amazing, we were in heaven. We stopped our car in the middle of the forest to look at a very young deer, who just looked back at us while he chewed. I snapped a picture, but he’s kind of hard to see. The whole island is a preserve, no hunting. The deer wasn’t the slightest bit afraid of us.
On the other side of the island, in Roche Harbor, we ate lunch at the marina, tasting life on the “other side” of financial freedom. One day, when I grow up, I wanna sail the world in my Yacht. If you promise not to steal the name, I’ll tell you. It’s called “Nauta Yittle” And it’s bad ass, too. I’m sure I’ll post pictures when I buy it.
Unschooling at Roche Harbor
The kids were eager to show us the marine life that had built its home under the dock. Funny- I brought all these books about exploring tidepools, field guides to insects, trees, birds and wildlife. I tried getting the kids interested in the books on the way there “Here- check out all the cool stuff we’re going to see” and not a single one of them took a bite. After we laid on the dock watching these things, they had to look up the names, and make sure I was right about anenomes (whew- I read the books, OK) I don’t think we figured out the name of the “palm tree worms” yet.
Anyways, I have to get dressed & ready now for today’s adventure- Port Townsend. Here’s a picture of the 5 oldest girls, Gabriella just HAD to go down to the water’s edge “Mom- I NEED to turn rocks over and touch things.” Who can say no to that? When she emerged from underneath, a family, just stepping off of their yacht, was quite surprised to see this heathen child, filthy from some muck. We groaned “OMG Bubba- look at you” She was thrilled with whatever treasure she had in her hands (a giant clam, I think- alive) and the 20something young man in the crowd thought she was just the coolest kid ever, she loved it. We rinsed her feet off with the hose at a pristine little garden, Gabriella was proud when I asked for the hose. “We have a future scientist here, researching…. muck. Can I please use your hose?”
Future scientist explores roche harbor hands on
Anyways, I gotta go, I will have to write more in the car, it was an amazing day. Our family needed this, thank heaven for digital photography. I think the picture that captures the feeling of bliss the best may just be the one one I put first here- of seeing my kids & my husband lying on the dock, getting an up-close look at the sea life. Hmmm- later I’ll add the lighthouse pictures. What a perfect day.
Yeah- this is my house the day we get three ginormous packages from Rainbow Resource Center. Regardless of which homeschooling method we’re in the mood to identify with, stalking every UPS man in the neighborhood is a lot like listening for sleigh bells. I was in the middle of making pancakes when Gabriella started shouting “THE UPS MAN IS HERE” and the whole house went into chaos mode. Of course, the dog gets out and he’s freaking out because there’s a big brown muscular, strong man who always beings me just what I want delivery truck in the driveway.
Anyways- the boxes are in the kitchen, things are being opened and the kids are shouting “A Leonardo DaVinci kit, woohoo” and “I’ve always wanted this book, hooray” and “A bridge-making kit- yippee” and it was all very exciting. Ironically, the first thing that each of them wanted most of all was a sketch pad.
Yep- a spiral bound book filled with blank paper. WTF? Like we don’t always have blank paper in the house? What about building bridges, reading books, doing art projects and Leonardo Da Vinci stuff? All you want is the sketch pads?
first grade math
OK- whatever. My Madelyn was a sweetie, she became interested in the math book almost a full ten minutes later. She sat down and got through 1/4 of first grade math in a matter of 2 hours.
The other girls are now reading their high-quality literature and checking out the educational video games and building some Leonardo Davinci stuff. But still, the sketch pads are never out of reach. And I totally get it, but it’s ironic, isn’t it.
OK- Here’s a secret. I don’t get to hang out with many women in real life, but there are some local blogging moms that I totally blog-stalk because they are full of amazing, genius ideas, they do fun things, they inspire me, they make my world a better place.
de-stemming the lilacs for Lilac jelly
So since two of them blogged about making food out of flowers, I had to do it, too. Jennifer was boasting about the jelly they made from the harvest of their personal organic dandelion garden (I called them weeds) and Mama-Aya made muffins from lilacs. I mean, if there’s a scent in the world to preserve, lilacs would be IT. Their blooms are so fragrant and then they’re GONE.
So here’s what we did.
I liberated a BUNCH of lilacs from the bees and brought them in the house. then, I inspected them, using my eyes and my ears to make sure there were no bees in them. Then, I shut all the windows in the house, because the girls thought maybe bees would come inside if they smelled the flowers. Then, Madelyn and Gabriella removed all the flowers while I readied the kitchen.
We made about 3 quarts of Lilac syrup that I turned into Lilac gelatin squares, Lilac jelly, Lilac syrup for pancakes and I’ve reserved some to try the lilac muffins.
I poured 4 quarts of boiling water over 4 quarts of rinsed lilac flowers (no green parts.) it promptly turned brown, wilty and ugly (as shown)
I strained the liquid with a coffee filter and was surprised to see how dark it was, it looked like… coffee.
I boiled 2 quarts of it with 5 cups of sugar and 1 packet of sure-jell (magic jelly making stuff) The minute I added the sure-jell it turned a beautiful shade of pink. Then I followed the directions all except for the complicated canning stuff so that in the end instead of jelly I really just have super thick syruppy juice that I’ll use for other things, like Lilac Soda Pop (mix w/carbonated water like an italian soda)
making lilac jelly
I used 1 quart of the liquid with gelatin and sugar to make jigglers. Because the sure-jell made it so pretty, I added fruit color preserving stuff for the jello, so it could be pink, too.
Since the jelly got screwed up, I’m turning it into pancake syrup.
The rest of the reserved liquid will go into a muffin recipe, but not the one my friend used because that had flower chunks in it and no liquid, so i need to find a muffin recipe that will take the liquid, because I promised my kids muffins. Probably the tightwad gazette muffin formula I would have posted it here, but I’m sure that copying from a book isn’t copyright-kosher:) (but linking to it is, right?)
So far, we haven’t been bothered by bees in the house.
Emilee and Meagan take ten thousand pictures of themselves and of each other all the time, but I thought I’d share these because they’re particularly fantastic. Somehow- the stormy weather, the outfit and makeup, with the black-and-white seemed to make each of these shots just beautiful. Meagan is modeling and Emilee is the photographer, I think they made a great team. My mom took a few to work and someone said “This one looks like the cover for a movie I’d want to see” which I thought was a cute compliment. I’d wanna see the movie, too:) I hope you enjoy the pictures.
It might look like they’re playing dice, but they’re really just gathering candy from the pinata. We had to do it inside because it was windy. I’ve never seen a pinata that tolerated each child having three turns “up at bat;” it was very strong, and my kids have eaten nothing but candy for the past 12 hours.
Believe it or not, we had two Maddies, two Cinderellas and Two and a half Graces, spread between five little girls. My house didn’t tip over and the skunk underneath the house didn’t make an appearance. Actually, we haven’t smelled him in a few weeks and I’m afraid my husband’s night time gas has actually made the skunk find a new home.
Next order of business in the Russell house is doing our taxes. Yes, we’re last-minute tax filers. Even though I have obsessive spreadsheets that track almost every penny going in and out of the house; we’re April filers.
Here’s a funny fact; My husband’s parents would say they were “doing the taxes” whenever they were in their room making out. I think my kids know too much about taxes to fall for that, though. I’m sure my 12 year old would be able to figure out that if we don’t have to do quarterly payroll taxes anymore, and we don’t have to figure unemployment taxes, then why the heck do you need to do taxes three nights a week in a room without any table? I guess my kids know too much about taxes.
Sisters competing to see which party-planner will make the cut. I guess in my mind it sounds like a reality show. I guess everything does, though. Strange for someone who doesn’t watch a lot of TV. I guess I can just relate way too much to the “life; edited” concept. Because my life this week has really been edited a lot. See, and you never would have known (except I haven’t been blogging- for me, that’s edited)
Anyways- so Madelyn turns six today. It’s a big day here. We’re having company here at Amityville for the first time EVER- yeah. We’ve got two different kinds of finger sandwiches going and some homemade chocolate covered buttercream eggs.
Two sisters made homemade birthday party invitations for the party (Gabriella won)
Two sisters designed pinatas (Meagan won because Gabriella didn’t know how to make a Pinata, but she watched Meagan and now she knows)
FOUR sisters worked their little buns off removing some crap the homeowners had left in the yard that I declared “No one will ever be allowed to have guests until that pile of crap is cleaned up”
FIVE sisters cut and looped together a bazillionty pieces of construction paper for streamers that now cover my living room like a canopy
Two sisters designed and painted a sandwich-board sign to go out on the curb because our house is kind of hard to find
Two sisters fought about what kind of cake to bake from scratch. The winner was the one who decided we’d get a boxed mix (that might have been me)
So it’s a princess birthday party and all the kids have to come in their princess dresses. We have little gift-bags for the guests. I couldn’t get special plates or napkins and the 3 little girls she invited happen to be daughters of some of my favorite ladies on the planet.
The fighting I’ve heard this week has been hilarious “If you don’t help me clean the bedroom then you are fired” and “You can’t fire me from party planning or I will rip up the dragon I made” (There’s a reason I didn’t mention the fire-breathing dragon, he’s a casualty of the royal army)
All-in-all, the teamwork and combined effort to create a complicated party has probably fueled Madelyn’s inner-diva but it’s been really cute to watch.
They have games planned- a teddy-bear walk (which is like a cake walk, but with stuffed animals because I can’t bake cupcakes in my toaster oven)
They made the pinata and decorated it on their own
The decorations, party hats, party bags and invitations were all construction paper- this party has taken DAYS to plan. And they didn’t ask for much help, I’m really impressed. So I don’t know how it will turn out, but I was hired to be a photographer. I hope I do a good job, I hear the boss is a real meanie. Or maybe it was doody-head. Either way, I better go. I have batteries to charge.
And before I go, I just wanna direct you to another Maddy, Madeline Spohr, who passed away yesterday at the age of 17mos. She was due to be born about a month after Evelyn, but ended up being born about a month BEFORE Evelyn. The family is taking donations for her burial, and giving the rest to March of Dimes. They help preemies.
I think it’s awesome how kids create their own reality. Our dumpy little house has a huge doughboy pool with no liner- so it’s basically a ladder up to an empty old pool, with no water in it, just a sandy bottom.
They’ve set up an entire land of their own. So far there’s fairyland and the beach. In the beach, they have lawn chairs (sand dug into pits where their bums fit snugly), beach towels laid out (panels of curtains from their room at the old house), drinks with plastic lemon wedges on the side, silly straws and a few umbrellas propped up in the sand. Next to one of the umbrellas, there’s a little red cooler.
They’ve taken workbooks and coloring stuff out to the beach. The books are in the cooler to protect them from the incoming tide. They ate their lunch at their beach and now they’re asking me whether or not you’re allowed to camp at the beach.
I visited their beach today and, for early spring, it’s surprisingly warm. The sides of the pool, about 4 feet deep, shied it all so that there’s no wind at all. They’ve taken several packets of seeds and dug little furrows into the ground near the fairy land so that flowers will grow. Fairies like flowers.
There’s actually three distinctive areas in their land, one has yet to be developed. They haven’t decided whether they’ll be building a clubhouse or a firepit. I’m voting for the clubhouse.
In the meantime, while lounging in their swimsuits, they’ve managed to
read seven Magic Schoolbus books in one day. Gabriella has been doing most of the reading, but when she gets to a word that’s “easy” she presents the book to Madelyn. Mrs Frizzle is shrinking the kids down into water droplets and they’re sliding down leaves as part of the water cycle. Madelyn says, “Mom, school looks like fun.” I tell her to write Mrs Frizzle a letter and invite her to our beach. She might like it.
Few things amaze me more in life than the logic of a three year old, the drama of an 8year old and the love of a 5 year old.
Drama, age 8
“Fine then, I am removing this metaphorical ring of friendship and I will not forgive you until you apologize”
or how about
“My life will never be the same. When I got this shirt, it was a special day and I never get brand new shirts and now I can never wear it again, ever. Now what will I do? How will I explain this to people? My friends are EXPECTING to see me in familiar clothes.”
Love, age 5 “Mommy, I love you bigger than the mountains and God. Did you know God loves us? How can God make Mountains? If God makes people big and small, then why does everyone start off as a baby, they’re not big. I love you, mommy. You have big lumps under your skin on your legs. They’re like… um… oatmeal. What is that? I think God just makes small people. And then they get big all by themselves. Unless he is making them GROW (her eyes light up) that’s why I’m growing, isn’t it? I love you, mommy. You are the prettiest mommy I ever had.”
Sisters competing to see which party-planner will make the cut. I guess in my mind it sounds like a reality show. I guess everything does, though. Strange for someone who doesn’t watch a lot of TV. I guess I can just relate way too much to the “life; edited” concept. Because my life this week has really been edited a lot. See, and you never would have known (except I haven’t been blogging- for me, that’s edited)
I think it’s awesome how kids create their own reality. Our dumpy little house has a huge doughboy pool with no liner- so it’s basically a ladder up to an empty old pool, with no water in it, just a sandy bottom. 
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