(This post will make almost no sense to you if you are not an avid consumer of parenting philosophies. Feel free to move along if you prefer not to hear the usual parcel of philosophical rambling and self-examination! It isn't compulsory to enjoy this kind of thing.)
Somewhere in the last two years, I have stopped calling myself a Waldorf-inspired Unschooler, and started calling myself a Radical Unschooler.
(Oh yes, I still believe there is value in labels - that there is use in finding the clearest most precise words to describe our interests, preferences, fascinations, and philosophies. Dissecting words and meanings and ideals has been part of my path, and helpful to me. If you want to know my perspective, I can offer a shorthand version in the form of a "label". If you want to know whether the jar in your hand contains strawberry jam or spicy tomato chutney, better read the label!)
Why did I drop the "Waldorf Inspired"? Am I still living a Waldorf-inspired life? Will you find a kindred spirit, a companion on the journey, or relevant ideas here if you DO consider yourself a Waldorf parent? It's complicated, sort of, and maybe. ;)
I was always a bit of a Waldorf-sceptic. Some of the philosophy strikes me as nuttier than the average fruitcake (sorry), and the guy himself was genuinely ahead of his time in some ways and a genuine ignorant arse in other ways (no, I'm not sorry). Even the ways in which he was ahead of his time are now frequently behind *this* actual time. Children have not changed all that much, but our understanding of them in terms of their capabilities and personhood has changed; and the world for which we are helping them prepare has changed beyond the imaginings of the very best of us a hundered years ago. I am not, and have never been, a follower of Steiner or of anthrosophy.
I owned all the Steiner schooling books though - in spite of not being interested in perfectly replicating Waldorf-at-home. To be fair, I did actually even buy a Waldorf curriculum and offer it - but my eldest was not interested and I was already more unschooly than Waldorfy. I was not prepared to push, control, or coerce. We had, and have, main lesson books - the children were, and are, free to use them as they wish to. There was, and is, a lot in Waldorf to love. The asethetic is, I believe, what draws so many people - and it's still a huge inspiration to my own arts and crafts. I truly love the physical beauty and simplicity in Waldorf-inspired art and design. It soothes my eyes and speaks to my soul.
There is also a lot of fear; and control, the eventual result of too much fear.
For the first few years of Jenna's life I was keen to be "in control" of the usual suspects as far as thinking was concerned - food, television, computer gaming ("educational" use would be allowed), bedtimes, clothing. I wanted a soft, sweet, simple life for her. Wooden toys, no branded or character clothing, minimal television. I wanted, I suppose, my own childhood over again. Nothing that jarred my personal sensibilities. And it worked, because for a very long time she didn't *want* anything outside of that. I heard other people suggesting that perhaps she wouldn't always have values and preferences that were so in line with mine, and I knew it intellectually but also felt that I needed to simply cross that bridge when we came to it.
I read a lot of gentle parenting advice and very gradually started to see a strong thread of "this is a nice way to force your child do what they will neither want to do of their own accord OR eventually learn to do without being taught". This pushed me back to the (more radical) unschooling boards, which I had previously read with an air of "are you freaking kidding me?!" When I occasionally came across radical unschooling, I felt genuinely pissed off. It jarred, at a deep level. Whilst also pulling me back to look, again and again.
The bridge, when it came, I almost didn't even notice. It came by stealth, and Jenna and I had almost a year of quiet warfare. She wanted more independance of movement, make-up, clothes I didn't believe were appropriate. It was sooner than I expected, and so I missed what it was I was facing - rebellion against my "nice" control. So, about two years ago, I was facing a choice. Which principle was more important to me? Which fears had a genuine basis and which were figments of too much reading? Would I honour my own thoughts about what was safe and suitable and pleasing above hers, and where would I draw the line?
When something makes me feel ragingly angry for no reason I can identify, it's usually something I truly *need* to properly explore and understand. I had already had the experience with elimination communication (nappy free baby): from "NO WAY" - to feeling strangely annoyed and picked on by the EXISTANCE of such a thing - to feeling like I couldn't get it out of my head until I tried it - to fully living it and thinking "no way - it works!" So when I started feeling like every radical unschooling thing I read was poking holes in me and deliberately insulting everything I believed, I shortcut the process and started cautiously saying "yes" more often. And more often.
My relationship with Jenna stopped being adversarial very quickly. She's still the child I'm most likely to get into an, ahem, argument with. We're very alike in personality, and both very stubborn, articulate, vocal, strong-minded, and passionate. Only, three years ago, we argued like parent and child (with me certain that I could force her to do what I wanted if it came to that, and her determined to resist me on principle because she was so determined not to be forced to do anything EVER). The irony! I started off trying to replicate exactly the parts of my childhood that I loved, and ended up also replicating the parts that I hated.
Now, we argue more rarely - more like best friends who wind each other up or strongly disagree sometimes, but neither feels they have the casting vote and neither feels oppressed by the difference of opinion. In case you're wondering, it's like that with Morgan too (and she's just as stubborn, albeit more quietly so). My parenting world has subtly shifted from being concerned with how best to pass on my values and bring up my children in a way that will produce perfectly moulded adults, to being concerned with how best to allow my children to develop their own values (and trusting that if mine do actually have value, they will be adopted without force).
So that's how I changed my mind, one yes at a time. I still love the feel of Waldorf - it's like a heart-pull to something that is wholly beautiful in its own way - but I'm intellectually convinced, and further convinced by experience, that for me and for these children control and coercion don't work (even "nice" coercion). I'm still constantly learning and knowing I can be a better facilitator, kinder, softer, sweeter, balance everyone's needs better, come to true consensus more often and more easily. I'm still evaluating on a case-by-case basis when, and whether, it is ever acceptable to control or coerce another human being. It is a thoughtful, involved, inventive, pragmatic, disturbing, and important question. I don't imagine I will ever have arrived at some perfect-parenting destination.
So, I feel that I have stepped out of a camp I enjoyed holidaying in but that was not quite home. The gilded cage still confined with lists of rules and should nots and oughts. Since it seems disingenuous to imply that I still consider my philosophy to be in line with Waldorf, and a lie by ommission to just drop mention of it without a word, I'm oversharing (again). I still love people in all camps and none, and love to hear their stories. I still find inspiration and much to interest me in some Waldorf resources. I may even still talk about Waldorfy things sometimes. :) I hope you still feel welcome here whatever your label, or lack thereof! Let's start again:
Hi. I'm an attachment parenting, radical unschooling, liberal, non-denominational Christian, pacifist, anarchist-leaning, imperfect, messy human being. Nice to meet you. Stay a while and share a story, a step on your journey, a cup of tea (or beverage of choice, dear Mormon friends and tea-haters alike), and a snapshot of beautiful ordinary life.
Showing posts with label discipline. Show all posts
Showing posts with label discipline. Show all posts
2 June 2014
Generosity
Yesterday evening I got a gentle little nudge to think around corners. I was feeling frustrated and upset with myself for blaming the children over minor arguments about computer times. They are so used to needing to take pauses when playing, browsing, or writing, so that I can check in with customers and respond to messages. Mostly they are patient over it - and over sharing in general. The last couple of days, Morgan and Jenna have both wanted Minecraft at the same time, which has happened every now and again but has usually been resolved quickly without my intervention. But Morgan had clearly had enough of waiting.
Morgan is quite introverted, self contained, and serene. Her main preference is usually that everyone around her is happy, and I struggle not to constantly check that she is OK because the difference between Morgan happily going along with something and Morgan unwillingly self-sacrificing is very hard to see. She just isn't as vocal, or as verbal, as the rest of the family. I love her quiet serenity, but I find her hard to read. Sometimes I don't realise how much she has been giving way to others until she reaches her sticking point. When Morgan sticks, she really sticks. Like a solid little stone in the path of any plans anyone else might have had! (I'm not complaining, or concerned with changing her - she's awesome, and she just is who she is.)
Anyhow, I'm sure you can imagine how that all worked out. One laptop. No more talking: proper all out warfare. And I felt bad. Conflict between them always feels hard, but when they are both feeling extremely sensitive and stubborn over something and *anything* I do to help feels like taking sides, it really hurts. My first thought was, "Why can't they just think of each other?!" My second thought was, "Because they are both always having to wait and sacrifice over this one issue. The problem isn't that they don't like to share, the problem is that there is a resource we could ideally do with more of to go around."
I strongly believe that children learn to share best when they feel they themselves have enough. Primarily enough affection, attention, support, help, and respect. When a toddler wanted to be held so much I got touched out, removing myself more often made them cling harder, offering more of myself when I felt I had more to give allowed them to let go more easily after a little while.
But it has held true with everything else too, for us. When chocolate was a rare and grudging treat, they could not get enough - when we started to make food which I considered "unhealthy" available to them and they could access chocolate any time, they stopped eating much of it at all (other side effects included sharing their sweets more freely, and stopping before they had finished all of something). Since we have had a tablet, bickering over television has completely stopped (not that they never disagree, but now they are much more willing to think of a way around the impasse, give way to each other generously, and try to help the others get what they wanted too).
So thought number three was, "I *hate* that we can't just get them the things that would make their lives genuinely more joyful and easy." These are kids who, when we were really struggling for money, asked me to stop buying food for snacking rather than cancel a charity donation. They have had weeks when we mostly ate lentils, rice, and soup because those things were cheapest - and not complained. They are so damn lovely. And for most of their childhoods, money is going to be an issue for us as a family. Most of the time we live very happily and comfortably on not much - we choose to, because we wanted one parent to be available at home as much as possible. Then there are times when I feel selfish for being happy with not-much, and for having four children, and for staying at home with them - because I have exactly the life I best love, and yet they didn't get so much choice about it!
The gentle nudge came in the form of a friend saying, "If you asked, I would help." So I asked. And just a few hours later, a pound here, a few pounds there, my friends had bought us an extra laptop.
How's that for community, huh?!
Thank you doesn't seem nearly big enough. (I mean, I still haven't got over that time three years ago when Martin had just got a new job and we had a month without money and people kept bringing us food.) It's a step outside of a comfort zone to actually ask for help, especially when the thing I am asking for is something that is honestly more frivolous. We could live without it, and have been living without it for years. I have my own discomfort with consumerism, and ideas about material posessions being morally negative, and hang ups about talking about money. Yet none of these things are things I feel I must teach my children - either they will agree with me, or they won't. I would rather support them thinking issues through themselves, and help them to think clearly about their own values (not mine).
Overthinking is my thing, you know?
It boils down to something very simple, though. A whole lot of people generously love, pray for, think of, and give to my family as and when they are able. That generosity allowed me, this week, to generously gift my children with a tool they will be thrilled to use. And the kindness ripples out from there, as my family is touched and wants to touch others, as my children feel that sense of plenty and share with each other and people beyond our home. Kindness begets kindness begets kindness.
Thank you.
Morgan is quite introverted, self contained, and serene. Her main preference is usually that everyone around her is happy, and I struggle not to constantly check that she is OK because the difference between Morgan happily going along with something and Morgan unwillingly self-sacrificing is very hard to see. She just isn't as vocal, or as verbal, as the rest of the family. I love her quiet serenity, but I find her hard to read. Sometimes I don't realise how much she has been giving way to others until she reaches her sticking point. When Morgan sticks, she really sticks. Like a solid little stone in the path of any plans anyone else might have had! (I'm not complaining, or concerned with changing her - she's awesome, and she just is who she is.)
Anyhow, I'm sure you can imagine how that all worked out. One laptop. No more talking: proper all out warfare. And I felt bad. Conflict between them always feels hard, but when they are both feeling extremely sensitive and stubborn over something and *anything* I do to help feels like taking sides, it really hurts. My first thought was, "Why can't they just think of each other?!" My second thought was, "Because they are both always having to wait and sacrifice over this one issue. The problem isn't that they don't like to share, the problem is that there is a resource we could ideally do with more of to go around."
I strongly believe that children learn to share best when they feel they themselves have enough. Primarily enough affection, attention, support, help, and respect. When a toddler wanted to be held so much I got touched out, removing myself more often made them cling harder, offering more of myself when I felt I had more to give allowed them to let go more easily after a little while.
But it has held true with everything else too, for us. When chocolate was a rare and grudging treat, they could not get enough - when we started to make food which I considered "unhealthy" available to them and they could access chocolate any time, they stopped eating much of it at all (other side effects included sharing their sweets more freely, and stopping before they had finished all of something). Since we have had a tablet, bickering over television has completely stopped (not that they never disagree, but now they are much more willing to think of a way around the impasse, give way to each other generously, and try to help the others get what they wanted too).
So thought number three was, "I *hate* that we can't just get them the things that would make their lives genuinely more joyful and easy." These are kids who, when we were really struggling for money, asked me to stop buying food for snacking rather than cancel a charity donation. They have had weeks when we mostly ate lentils, rice, and soup because those things were cheapest - and not complained. They are so damn lovely. And for most of their childhoods, money is going to be an issue for us as a family. Most of the time we live very happily and comfortably on not much - we choose to, because we wanted one parent to be available at home as much as possible. Then there are times when I feel selfish for being happy with not-much, and for having four children, and for staying at home with them - because I have exactly the life I best love, and yet they didn't get so much choice about it!
The gentle nudge came in the form of a friend saying, "If you asked, I would help." So I asked. And just a few hours later, a pound here, a few pounds there, my friends had bought us an extra laptop.
How's that for community, huh?!
Thank you doesn't seem nearly big enough. (I mean, I still haven't got over that time three years ago when Martin had just got a new job and we had a month without money and people kept bringing us food.) It's a step outside of a comfort zone to actually ask for help, especially when the thing I am asking for is something that is honestly more frivolous. We could live without it, and have been living without it for years. I have my own discomfort with consumerism, and ideas about material posessions being morally negative, and hang ups about talking about money. Yet none of these things are things I feel I must teach my children - either they will agree with me, or they won't. I would rather support them thinking issues through themselves, and help them to think clearly about their own values (not mine).
Overthinking is my thing, you know?
It boils down to something very simple, though. A whole lot of people generously love, pray for, think of, and give to my family as and when they are able. That generosity allowed me, this week, to generously gift my children with a tool they will be thrilled to use. And the kindness ripples out from there, as my family is touched and wants to touch others, as my children feel that sense of plenty and share with each other and people beyond our home. Kindness begets kindness begets kindness.
Thank you.
31 May 2014
changing your mind is a sign of growth - or something
I took some time reading some of my archive recently (no no please don't, come back here one minute!) and, yeah. Eight years is a long time, huh? I recently heard something that totally applies: "If you don't believe something now which ten years ago you would have considered heresy, you're not growing." I rather agree. (Exceptions made for those of you who were perfect to start with, obviously. ;) ) One thing in particular made me feel a little sad. It really brought back to me how stressful I found life with Jenna when she was around three or four years old - how much conflict there was and how much pressure I felt to Get it All Right All the Time. How much I wanted to parent perfectly (and demonstrate it by perfecting this daughter of mine).
How long it took me to really truly accept that children are PEOPLE, not products.
I'm not going to share any "before pictures" but they're all still there, publicly accessible and transparent. The tag "discipline" yields a mess of thorns, and the odd rose. But here is the year I started to feel confident, and make choices that honoured my children as fully human. It makes almost a progression - rules to principles. Even as I wrote this post explaining how to "do" gentle discipline, I was starting to leave behind thoughts about how to get kids to do what I wanted in favour of thoughts about how to simply live together. Later, I actually started to let go as I recognised coercion for what it was doing to our relationships.
And now? Well, I expend more energy in trying to find ways to cooperate and connect. I work more on me and less on other people. I change the circumstances where I can rather than the person, and see my children actually more easily accepting when the world simply will not accomodate their wishes anyway. I hold my own ideas more loosely, and recognise that my children are not me (nor are they mine to shape and control - only to advise, support, help, and protect).
I reckon I still have unpicking and unlearning to do. I still struggle with feeling like I'm not enough (or like it would be so much easier to not take into account the feelings and needs of all these other people I live with). Oh there are days that are just too hard - but lots of days when it flows easily, too. Leaving behind control in favour of love feels good. I've had two more four year olds since then, and few of the same power struggles.
Here's to the next six years of learning and growing, then!
How long it took me to really truly accept that children are PEOPLE, not products.
I'm not going to share any "before pictures" but they're all still there, publicly accessible and transparent. The tag "discipline" yields a mess of thorns, and the odd rose. But here is the year I started to feel confident, and make choices that honoured my children as fully human. It makes almost a progression - rules to principles. Even as I wrote this post explaining how to "do" gentle discipline, I was starting to leave behind thoughts about how to get kids to do what I wanted in favour of thoughts about how to simply live together. Later, I actually started to let go as I recognised coercion for what it was doing to our relationships.
And now? Well, I expend more energy in trying to find ways to cooperate and connect. I work more on me and less on other people. I change the circumstances where I can rather than the person, and see my children actually more easily accepting when the world simply will not accomodate their wishes anyway. I hold my own ideas more loosely, and recognise that my children are not me (nor are they mine to shape and control - only to advise, support, help, and protect).
I reckon I still have unpicking and unlearning to do. I still struggle with feeling like I'm not enough (or like it would be so much easier to not take into account the feelings and needs of all these other people I live with). Oh there are days that are just too hard - but lots of days when it flows easily, too. Leaving behind control in favour of love feels good. I've had two more four year olds since then, and few of the same power struggles.
Here's to the next six years of learning and growing, then!
22 May 2014
Spontaneous
Spontaneous adventures are, um, tricky with four small children. It isn't exactly easy to get us all out of the door, let alone carrying everything we need to spend long out of the house. When I think of our freedom of movement, I remember the days of one (or two) children with slight wistfulness!
After booking our train tickets, I set a very early alarm, packed the change bag with spare clothes, sunglasses, hats, snacks, drinks, and phone. A bag of swim gear - and waterproof coats just in case. Then persuaded the children to bed with promises of a surprise in the morning. So it began, at six in the morning, with me as nervous as can be!
These guys *love* surprises, so when we were dropped at the station they had no idea where we were going - or even that we were getting on a train. *so much squeeing*
For over an hour I had excited children saying, "Train! Horse! Tree!" at everything we went past. Eventually, the train pulled in at Boston, and the children all shouted, "ASHLEIGH!" They had just, moments before, guessed that we were going to the sea and that Ash would be joining us ("are you *sure* you want me to tell you if your guess is right?" haha).
The day itself was beautiful - warm, peaceful, fun, interesting. Rowan did some stomping when Talia was asleep on the towel she wanted. The sound of the sea and snuggles with my sweet baby, sand in her hair, time to read a book. Tiny blackbirds hopped almost onto Morgan's foot, and squabbled over any chips we dropped. Ash found a crab shell for us to examine. Morgan got a bit invested in walking the route she had planned, when everyone else wanted to go a different way. I got annoyed with them all bickering and threatened no ice-cream if they wouldn't just come to a bloody agreement (fail) but I did get a sweet apology later after I had calmed down and said that of course we would still get ice cream.
Transferring sand from one spade to another was Talia's favourite game of the day!
Talia crawled around some sculptures and got completely filthy (I had to wash her in the station toilets). Our train home was cancelled and we ended up buying cheap bread rolls and sausages for our tea.
By the time we finally got on a train, the children were exhausted, and decided to sit under the table. Lucky us, we had the most crotchetty rude conductor ever, who got aggressive when asked to back up his assertion that my children would die if they didn't sit upright in their seats (and threatened to put us off the train if I let them leave their seats for any reason when I again calmly asked him for statistics): I'd like to think the other passengers might have also complained about him, because they then had to put up with Rowan screaming for an hour when I wouldn't let her get down rather than risk him actually putting us off). Pony-distraction to the rescue (ish).
When we got in I had a good cry on hubby, and then cuddled Roo to sleep (who had totally forgiven me, and chatted all evening about jumping in the sea and the little birds who ate Tali's dinner).
I'd do it all again in a heartbeat though. Well, maybe in a couple of months...
After booking our train tickets, I set a very early alarm, packed the change bag with spare clothes, sunglasses, hats, snacks, drinks, and phone. A bag of swim gear - and waterproof coats just in case. Then persuaded the children to bed with promises of a surprise in the morning. So it began, at six in the morning, with me as nervous as can be!
These guys *love* surprises, so when we were dropped at the station they had no idea where we were going - or even that we were getting on a train. *so much squeeing*
For over an hour I had excited children saying, "Train! Horse! Tree!" at everything we went past. Eventually, the train pulled in at Boston, and the children all shouted, "ASHLEIGH!" They had just, moments before, guessed that we were going to the sea and that Ash would be joining us ("are you *sure* you want me to tell you if your guess is right?" haha).
The day itself was beautiful - warm, peaceful, fun, interesting. Rowan did some stomping when Talia was asleep on the towel she wanted. The sound of the sea and snuggles with my sweet baby, sand in her hair, time to read a book. Tiny blackbirds hopped almost onto Morgan's foot, and squabbled over any chips we dropped. Ash found a crab shell for us to examine. Morgan got a bit invested in walking the route she had planned, when everyone else wanted to go a different way. I got annoyed with them all bickering and threatened no ice-cream if they wouldn't just come to a bloody agreement (fail) but I did get a sweet apology later after I had calmed down and said that of course we would still get ice cream.
Transferring sand from one spade to another was Talia's favourite game of the day!
Talia crawled around some sculptures and got completely filthy (I had to wash her in the station toilets). Our train home was cancelled and we ended up buying cheap bread rolls and sausages for our tea.
By the time we finally got on a train, the children were exhausted, and decided to sit under the table. Lucky us, we had the most crotchetty rude conductor ever, who got aggressive when asked to back up his assertion that my children would die if they didn't sit upright in their seats (and threatened to put us off the train if I let them leave their seats for any reason when I again calmly asked him for statistics): I'd like to think the other passengers might have also complained about him, because they then had to put up with Rowan screaming for an hour when I wouldn't let her get down rather than risk him actually putting us off). Pony-distraction to the rescue (ish).
When we got in I had a good cry on hubby, and then cuddled Roo to sleep (who had totally forgiven me, and chatted all evening about jumping in the sea and the little birds who ate Tali's dinner).
I'd do it all again in a heartbeat though. Well, maybe in a couple of months...
19 March 2014
Yarn Along - rainbow chevrons, and Jan Fortune Wood
So, this week I made this awesomeness from my spun-for-the-purpose rainbow art yarn.
I've still not carved out for myself much reading time, but I've made a start on Winning Parent, Winning Child - so far I'm enjoying it a great deal. As we've been working towards non-coercion for a couple of years now, I'm finding it very pleasing to read something like this and feel comfortable. The ideas are familiar, and fit how we generally live right now. I remember feeling very threatened by writing that suggested parental control wasn't the ideal, once upon a time. I think I still have a way to go, but our lives are getting more peaceful and more cooperative all the time.
Joining in with Ginny and friends. :)
I've still not carved out for myself much reading time, but I've made a start on Winning Parent, Winning Child - so far I'm enjoying it a great deal. As we've been working towards non-coercion for a couple of years now, I'm finding it very pleasing to read something like this and feel comfortable. The ideas are familiar, and fit how we generally live right now. I remember feeling very threatened by writing that suggested parental control wasn't the ideal, once upon a time. I think I still have a way to go, but our lives are getting more peaceful and more cooperative all the time.
Joining in with Ginny and friends. :)
6 February 2014
More adventures, unschooling, and beautiful chaos
On Tuesday, Talia had her two year check. It was a bit twilight-zone-like. The health visitors are lovely, and enthusiastic about my sweet family, but Talia was really not sure about being in a play area without her sisters (she kept burying her face in me to hide from the other children, and taking me to the door to see if her sisters were still outside). Poor funny little fraggle.
We'd planned to head to Nottingham in the afternoon, maybe visit an art gallery or just take a wander around a less familiar place. We've never really taken the children in to Nottingham city centre before, only to specific places away from the shopping areas. Our first stop was lunch, followed by the market square where the children wanted to play in the fountains in spite of the freezing weather. We'd left their bag of spare clothes at home so we improvised a bit and spend a small amount in the Primark sale to make up suitable warm dry outfits they could change in to when they came out of the water!
As soon as they were dry and wrapped up warmly, the sun came out! They had such a wonderful time in the water, though, and it was another time I was so glad we could find a way to say "yes". Lots of people stopped to watch them play and laugh, and almost every single one smiled to see them.
We couldn't remember exactly how far away the art gallery we wanted to visit would be, and the children weren't wanting to walk far, so we visited The Token House (my favourite quirky little gift shop and fixture of my own childhood) where the children found hearts made from shells, beautiful boxes, reels of ribbon, soft fuzzy toy animals, a gorgeous map book, and rainbow egg cups. We rather wished we could afford to bring it all home with us!
Martin remembered how to get to the gallery from there, just around the corner, so off we went. There was an exhibition of paintings which was rather poop-themed, a giant latex alien-bug creature, some post-apocalyptic dioramas, a papier mache temple with a golden cat-goddess head inside, and an actual Cat Bus filled with squashy rainbow coloured cushions to sit on.
The beans were ready for another drink by then, so we relocated to the cafe inside Waterstones. After chocolate muffins and warm milk we washed hands, looked at a book about tropical fish and another about big cats, and went up and down the escalators (which have their mechanisms on display under glass).
Then back to the car, through the main shopping centre!
On our walk we found street musicians, and a lot of beautiful painted elephants. The children were particularly keen on one inspired by the rose window at York Minster, and I loved the one decorated in the style of Japanese lacquer-work. :) Morgan was interested in the artist's descriptions, and played hunt-the-signature. Rowan liked the brightest colours the best (she liked one painted all over with sweets, and one with iconic English birds and mammals).
Wednesday, we were all so tired we opted for the quietest day possible, which is never really all that quiet. The children spent a good couple of hours "duelling" (shouting Harry-Potter-accurate spells at each other brandishing knitting needles and chopsticks), and playing an elaborate game in which they were sneaking food from the house elves (ie my kitchen cupboards) and trying to get it past me and up the stairs as I in turn tried very hard not to see (or laugh at their antics).
Talia was so fascinated with her new melamine Elmer mug she insisted on almost hourly cups of tea (alternating between chamomile, peppermint, and english breakfast with milk and sugar!) and so tired from her very busy day that she breastfed and dozed quite a bit of the rest of the time.
The Sylvanians and the Ostheimer mummy and baby wolf shared the doll house nicely.
We painted. Had showers. Pretended to look after Pygmy Puffs. And watched Star Trek (TNG).
The house started off relatively tidy in the morning, and now beautiful evidence of life and living and learning is, well, overflowing somewhat. It took me hours yesterday afternoon to write this, with breaks to facilitate for children, and fetch snacks, and read stories, and hand over the laptop for Jenna to do some design work, and pick up the tired unhappy toddler again, and spell out a few words, and find a silver pen for Morgan. It's taking a good while this morning to edit.
This is what unschooling looks like, for us, right now, at these ages and stages. Lots of "yes". Lots of trying to keep up. Lots of running late. Lots of laughter and art and colour and snuggling on the sofa and watching the rain. :)
We'd planned to head to Nottingham in the afternoon, maybe visit an art gallery or just take a wander around a less familiar place. We've never really taken the children in to Nottingham city centre before, only to specific places away from the shopping areas. Our first stop was lunch, followed by the market square where the children wanted to play in the fountains in spite of the freezing weather. We'd left their bag of spare clothes at home so we improvised a bit and spend a small amount in the Primark sale to make up suitable warm dry outfits they could change in to when they came out of the water!
As soon as they were dry and wrapped up warmly, the sun came out! They had such a wonderful time in the water, though, and it was another time I was so glad we could find a way to say "yes". Lots of people stopped to watch them play and laugh, and almost every single one smiled to see them.
We couldn't remember exactly how far away the art gallery we wanted to visit would be, and the children weren't wanting to walk far, so we visited The Token House (my favourite quirky little gift shop and fixture of my own childhood) where the children found hearts made from shells, beautiful boxes, reels of ribbon, soft fuzzy toy animals, a gorgeous map book, and rainbow egg cups. We rather wished we could afford to bring it all home with us!
Martin remembered how to get to the gallery from there, just around the corner, so off we went. There was an exhibition of paintings which was rather poop-themed, a giant latex alien-bug creature, some post-apocalyptic dioramas, a papier mache temple with a golden cat-goddess head inside, and an actual Cat Bus filled with squashy rainbow coloured cushions to sit on.
The beans were ready for another drink by then, so we relocated to the cafe inside Waterstones. After chocolate muffins and warm milk we washed hands, looked at a book about tropical fish and another about big cats, and went up and down the escalators (which have their mechanisms on display under glass).
Then back to the car, through the main shopping centre!
On our walk we found street musicians, and a lot of beautiful painted elephants. The children were particularly keen on one inspired by the rose window at York Minster, and I loved the one decorated in the style of Japanese lacquer-work. :) Morgan was interested in the artist's descriptions, and played hunt-the-signature. Rowan liked the brightest colours the best (she liked one painted all over with sweets, and one with iconic English birds and mammals).
Wednesday, we were all so tired we opted for the quietest day possible, which is never really all that quiet. The children spent a good couple of hours "duelling" (shouting Harry-Potter-accurate spells at each other brandishing knitting needles and chopsticks), and playing an elaborate game in which they were sneaking food from the house elves (ie my kitchen cupboards) and trying to get it past me and up the stairs as I in turn tried very hard not to see (or laugh at their antics).
Talia was so fascinated with her new melamine Elmer mug she insisted on almost hourly cups of tea (alternating between chamomile, peppermint, and english breakfast with milk and sugar!) and so tired from her very busy day that she breastfed and dozed quite a bit of the rest of the time.
The Sylvanians and the Ostheimer mummy and baby wolf shared the doll house nicely.
We painted. Had showers. Pretended to look after Pygmy Puffs. And watched Star Trek (TNG).
The house started off relatively tidy in the morning, and now beautiful evidence of life and living and learning is, well, overflowing somewhat. It took me hours yesterday afternoon to write this, with breaks to facilitate for children, and fetch snacks, and read stories, and hand over the laptop for Jenna to do some design work, and pick up the tired unhappy toddler again, and spell out a few words, and find a silver pen for Morgan. It's taking a good while this morning to edit.
This is what unschooling looks like, for us, right now, at these ages and stages. Lots of "yes". Lots of trying to keep up. Lots of running late. Lots of laughter and art and colour and snuggling on the sofa and watching the rain. :)
21 January 2014
In Which I Mostly Handle Things Badly
There are some days when it just seems impossible to get anything right. The children were so excited about the stargazing event at the weekend. And then each one of them in turn melted down over things like "all of the activities being babyish" and our stubborn refusal to "make the clouds go awaaayyy!" In the end, we had to go home early with three of my sweet little people crying (believe me, I did NOT feel much like they were "sweet" at the time).
Rowan has also been using her banshee wail when things aren't going how she'd like them to. This week, the scream has been brought out when I couldn't find her pink pony, when the popcorn wasn't cooking quickly enough, when she wanted Morgan to stop talking to her, when Daddy was at work and she wanted him, and several other occasions. It isn't exactly a rage-scream or a hurt-sad-scream, it's a pure "MAKE THIS HAPPEN NOW!" thing. Unfortunately for her, the universe doesn't bend itself to her will, and sometimes I feel more like slapping her than helping. :( High pitched noise rage. It hurts my ears, and sends me in to a panic. :( I think the best chance for me to keep parenting calmly is going to be earplugs, to be honest.
In the meantime, I'm trying to assume positive intent, and taking myself out of the room when the high-pitched shriek is happening.
Today there was a sibling row over, of all things, the fair sharing of eggs for sandwiches. I got stuck, and ended up backing myself in to a "what I say goes" corner. Over sandwiches. I mean, we're all fine, and didn't exactly fall out over it, but sometimes it's the simple little things that are the hardest to think clearly about. I'm not feeling terribly proud of my parenting skills right now.
There are times when parenting is just plain hard work. I'm doing well, in so many ways. In other ways I'm pretty much improvising, trying really hard, and mostly muddling through. There are days when I scream, and days when I cry, and days when mostly I just laugh at the overwhelming beautiful messy frustrating chaos.
If all I can do is keep breathing, and even remember to laugh at myself occasionally, we're probably doing OK, right?
8 August 2013
Snippets from busy days and play dates
With friends sleeping over, lots of games to play; the six and seven year olds made mud and sand pies. They all made their own popcorn together, squealing with laughter as it popped. Extra children inevitably means less work for me, because they are so busy playing. I crocheted about another foot on my blanket, and made granny squares for a customer!
Morgan came in on her own at one point, and announced a quick fairy snap tournament, which she won.
Jenna gave a lecture on Greek mythology under the swing set in the garden, and invented a game of "guess the god" which everyone else joined in with. They spent at least half of a day running around in an extended role play in which I overheard "Aphrodite" pleading with "Demeter" not to confront Hades lest it start a war amongst the gods.
Someone pulled out one of the inspiration folders and Rowan coloured in a skeleton, while everyone else built a life size laminated model. They argued about which way up the arm bones should go.
Rowan and Morgan made fruit crumble to follow our tea later. Rowan wanted to try the raw crumble mixture, and decided it wasn't nice. Morgan casually told her where rhubarb grows and why we don't eat the leaves as she snipped the stems into the dish.
After friends went home the girls watched some home videos of children hooping (especially loving this one), and spent a while in the garden (and living room) trying to imitate them. I asked for help picking up toys and hoovering, and Rowan said "no" then tidied up the teddies on her own. Morgan picked up only the things I specifically asked her to. And Jenna said she didn't want to help, but then offered to clean the oven (which she did perfectly, and is one of my most hated jobs).
A friend of mine came over for tea and board games. Jenna talked her ears off, and showed her some of her favourite maths and science websites including Nova's Solar System tour and an animal cell to label. She also looked up a couple of experiments she wants to try out and made ice cubes to try the Cloud in a Jar.
Morgan did a page of maths, scanning sums to pick out quickly which added up to twenty. This child and her methodical mind and instinctive grasp of number - she's as quick as I am with basic puzzles like that one. She carries books of maths worksheets around with her much of the time, her prized possessions.
We played Carcasonne, and Jenna came second. Rowan and Talia were quite loud and tired and I started to lose patience with the cards being bumped. As soon as the game finished, Rowan went to bed bribed with Octonauts on daddy's phone, and the others picked their stories. My friend stayed for story time and soon discovered Talia's impatience with actual story reading (page turning is much more her thing). :)
After a sleep over AND a late night the girls all slept in until about 9am this morning. They had left over crumble for breakfast, and spent the whole of breakfast time discussing how milk is pasteurised and how it is turned into cheese and yoghurt. We talked about milk cows and animal welfare, and Morgan raised the question of ownership and whether living creatures can or should own each other.
The children passed through the kitchen as I was washing up, apparently playing Hogwarts again, and then a few minutes later came back in announcing that they were putting on a dog show and I needed to come and watch. They set up an obstacle course in the living room and got Talia to crawl around it and jump through hoops. Talia knows this game well, "barks" on command, and even pretends to wag her tail when they give her "dog treats" (cereal pieces, which she picks up with her mouth!).
We inspected our shell-less egg experiment, and Rowan poked a bit too hard so it popped before it pickled properly. Ah well, try try again!
Clouds in a jar were unfortunately just as unsuccessful:
Today is clearly not the day for science in my house! (Now we have to figure out why it didn't work...)
Jenna and Morgan did a country dance show next and performed a counting song in Gaelic. Sometimes these shows go on for a very long time, but after a requested change of music to the Brave sound track followed by Les Miserables (another recent passion of Jenna's), they took all the bits from their assault course back outside and left me with my bit of complicated lace knitting and a cup of tea (made by Jenna).
Barely more than 24 hours. I'm feeling a little mentally exhausted this afternoon, and feeling nostalgic about the peaceful low tide days. ;)
Morgan came in on her own at one point, and announced a quick fairy snap tournament, which she won.
Jenna gave a lecture on Greek mythology under the swing set in the garden, and invented a game of "guess the god" which everyone else joined in with. They spent at least half of a day running around in an extended role play in which I overheard "Aphrodite" pleading with "Demeter" not to confront Hades lest it start a war amongst the gods.
Someone pulled out one of the inspiration folders and Rowan coloured in a skeleton, while everyone else built a life size laminated model. They argued about which way up the arm bones should go.
Rowan and Morgan made fruit crumble to follow our tea later. Rowan wanted to try the raw crumble mixture, and decided it wasn't nice. Morgan casually told her where rhubarb grows and why we don't eat the leaves as she snipped the stems into the dish.
After friends went home the girls watched some home videos of children hooping (especially loving this one), and spent a while in the garden (and living room) trying to imitate them. I asked for help picking up toys and hoovering, and Rowan said "no" then tidied up the teddies on her own. Morgan picked up only the things I specifically asked her to. And Jenna said she didn't want to help, but then offered to clean the oven (which she did perfectly, and is one of my most hated jobs).
A friend of mine came over for tea and board games. Jenna talked her ears off, and showed her some of her favourite maths and science websites including Nova's Solar System tour and an animal cell to label. She also looked up a couple of experiments she wants to try out and made ice cubes to try the Cloud in a Jar.
Morgan did a page of maths, scanning sums to pick out quickly which added up to twenty. This child and her methodical mind and instinctive grasp of number - she's as quick as I am with basic puzzles like that one. She carries books of maths worksheets around with her much of the time, her prized possessions.
We played Carcasonne, and Jenna came second. Rowan and Talia were quite loud and tired and I started to lose patience with the cards being bumped. As soon as the game finished, Rowan went to bed bribed with Octonauts on daddy's phone, and the others picked their stories. My friend stayed for story time and soon discovered Talia's impatience with actual story reading (page turning is much more her thing). :)
After a sleep over AND a late night the girls all slept in until about 9am this morning. They had left over crumble for breakfast, and spent the whole of breakfast time discussing how milk is pasteurised and how it is turned into cheese and yoghurt. We talked about milk cows and animal welfare, and Morgan raised the question of ownership and whether living creatures can or should own each other.
The children passed through the kitchen as I was washing up, apparently playing Hogwarts again, and then a few minutes later came back in announcing that they were putting on a dog show and I needed to come and watch. They set up an obstacle course in the living room and got Talia to crawl around it and jump through hoops. Talia knows this game well, "barks" on command, and even pretends to wag her tail when they give her "dog treats" (cereal pieces, which she picks up with her mouth!).
We inspected our shell-less egg experiment, and Rowan poked a bit too hard so it popped before it pickled properly. Ah well, try try again!
Clouds in a jar were unfortunately just as unsuccessful:
Today is clearly not the day for science in my house! (Now we have to figure out why it didn't work...)
Jenna and Morgan did a country dance show next and performed a counting song in Gaelic. Sometimes these shows go on for a very long time, but after a requested change of music to the Brave sound track followed by Les Miserables (another recent passion of Jenna's), they took all the bits from their assault course back outside and left me with my bit of complicated lace knitting and a cup of tea (made by Jenna).
Barely more than 24 hours. I'm feeling a little mentally exhausted this afternoon, and feeling nostalgic about the peaceful low tide days. ;)
20 July 2013
A Week of (real) Unschooling
OK deep breath... Want to see what we really did all week? Honestly, warts and all, on a week when I'm struggling and it's hot and nobody has any big projects or particular academic-looking cool-sounding new interests and the TV is on quite a bit? *gulp*
I've been asked a few times recently what an average day or week looks like for us, and I have to say, there is rarely such a thing as an average week. Their interests and passions change, the level of active play versus quiet role play, the amount of reading, whether there is any big project going on, what things I find noteworthy, or which activities look like "learning". My point is, it's all learning. Even the weeks that don't look like anything much.
Well, I've been writing this down as we go - and I find it so interesting that it's still tempting to play up all the stuff that really Looks like School and otherwise generally show the highlight reel even while the point of this post is NOT to do that. But I know some will find this useful, and some will find this comforting, and some will find this interesting and inspiring, and frankly some will think it looks inadequate (but hell, they're probably judging anyway, whether I post this or not). ;)
* * *
Sunday: Our day started with some painting in the garden in the sunshine, followed by watching two episodes of Doctor Who. Morgan's painting of a rainbow dried really quickly. I think it may be the first time she painted or drew a rainbow without asking in which order the colours go. A lot of running around and several different role play games - which are the background to our entire lives - Hogwarts, being mermaids, Victorian children, and pretending to be animals are the current favourites.
Then we went to a friend's house. Morgan and Jenna remembered from grandma's house how to find middle C on the piano, and how to make the chord of C. Morgan helped make gravy from scratch. Rowan played with (and disassembled) a toy car wash, and Jenna played on a James Bond game for a couple of hours.
Some weeks, Sunday is the day when the kids often go in for a full-on day of questions, experiments, exploring and so on. Not this week! It was really what I'd think of as an entirely average Sunday in a house with children. :) Since we don't have the frame of reference of school days and weekends, or term time and holidays, and the children aren't accustomed to seeing learning as something that happens at certain times in certain places, there is every chance of turning up on a weekend and finding a full scale science fayre or maths texts all over the place. It happens. Quiet weekends are pretty rare for us, anyway, and I rather relished this one.
Monday: We usually head to the library, but the Mister had taken my bank card to work with him so we had to wait in. The bigger girls built a den in the garden, Rowan came and took over the laptop to identify two butterflies she had seen in the garden. Jenna asked one of her deep questions ("Could anyone have stopped World War Two before it happened?") and we ended up discussing appeasement, trade sanctions, the League of Nations and the UN.
We went out to sling meet, and walked into town from there to catch a bus home. A friend came back to play. The kids all watched a lot of Horrible Histories, and Jenna played a level of Big Little Planet then read two pick-your-own mystery books back to back. She played a while on Pinterest and eBay with me too, she wants to decorate the house for her birthday party next month and has lots of ideas.
Tuesday: Jenna played on Big Little Planet for the entire morning, building a new level and playing co-operatively online. Rowan and Morgan pulled the den down in the garden, climbed the willow tree, and played the sink/float game in the bath with practically every toy they could find.
We headed into town for a treat and I gave the two older ones a £10 allowance to spend on anything they liked. Jenna bought three books (one of Greek Mythology, a current favourite interest, and two H2O Just Add Water books, a cutesy tweeny mermaid TV show they watched on Netflix a while ago and still rather love) and a pick and mix. Morgan bought a dot to dot book, a pack of Sylvanian babies, a world map, and a Disney magazine.
After flopping on the sofa at home and playing with the new things we did a quick tidy up before my mum's dogs came to stay, then went to the children's church club where there was a sort of sport/activity trail and the children scored points for scoring hoops with a basketball, number of skips in a minute, dart score with six darts, and so on. Jenna got two more RSVPs for her birthday party. Talia tried to escape the building twice.
Wednesday: Jenna and Morgan both took a long turn on the spinning wheel, eventually getting the hang of it enough to produce a few metres of very slubby orange yarn. Jenna read two of her new books while Morgan and Rowan watched some cbeebies (and Rowan had one of her massive world-ending meltdowns about my inability to take her into town again today), then they made popcorn together and sat eating it listening to some folk music I put on at their request.
Then they all ran around in the garden with playsilks tied to their wrists, and when I went out to check on the dogs the girls were all sitting under the willow tree playing families with Talia wrapped up in a silk being their baby. I took them out a picnic of veggie sausages, red pepper, pears, chocolate spread on digestive biscuits, and the little teapot and cups to make themselves tea. Talia got hold of the chocolate spread and Morgan took her upstairs for them to get a shower together while I put away some clothes in the next room.
When we came down (with three children wrapped in towels) Jenna had put Big Little Planet on and was playing a difficult level she just got on to. "I wonder if the Japanese had a Sushi god?" She thinks out loud. Wikipedia tells us that Inari is the Shinto god/goddess of rice, and Uke Mochi was goddess of food. Hmm, close enough for Jenna apparently. When the little ones shed their towels we all did some melted wax pictures with the iron and everyone spent some more time flopped all over the living room with music on, just too sticky to move.
Most of the rest of the afternoon turned into a game with the My Little Pony toys. Jenna spent another hour building on Big Little Planet while I did some spinning and Talia had a proper nap for the first time all week. The LEA lady I had declined a visit from arrived, and was turned away (I'm very glad Jenna knows not to let people in even if they flash a badge)! Jenna also went out to her drama group.
Thursday: We're all still so tired in the sticky heat. Nobody much feels like doing anything very active! Rowan and Morgan played in the paddling pool, and Jenna made tape sculptures. Everyone did some building with coloured ice blocks I'd frozen last night, and painted with the frozen cubes on watercolour paper. Talia particularly enjoyed playing with a giant frozen watercolour block in the shower afterwards. As far as planning craft activities go, once a week is pretty average for me, even though we all love art and crafting - most of the input isn't me and my ideas any more. :)
Doctor Who (three episodes from the Tenth doctor) and another go on the spinning wheel each. A big monkey platter of cheese, boiled eggs, and salad veg for lunch, followed by iced chamomile tea with lemon juice. Morgan helped me to hang out the washing, then asked me to do some maths with her (four pages of a workbook aimed at older children). Jenna stood in the kitchen doing the background for a Klimt-inspired collage she has been talking about making all week, and making one of the projects from her Ruby Loves magazine. We made sunprints when some new blue photographic paper arrived in the post. "Why do they have to be washed to make the colours work?" asks Morgan, and Jenna explains better than I can.
Morgan and Rowan started a game with a basket of shells, playing mermaids, and counting the shells into groups as I have done with the little ones before. Rowan stood every single wooden figure out on the shelf and they ran around having conversations between the little figures for a while. Jenna had a book of British Birds in hand and was looking up the precise colouring of Blue Tits so that she could draw one. Talia decided it was nap time, so I nursed her to sleep. ("Booobieees!" she wails mournfully when I don't pick her up quickly enough.)
We turned down an invitation to the park, Jenna read some Octonauts books to Rowan and Morgan read the creature reports (first time I recall her reading aloud in at least a month), we all watched the 70s Alice in Wonderland (again), and everyone helped make dinner: spaghetti with oven roast vegetables. Some spaghetti fell on the hob and the children moved it to a plate to watch it burn. Lots more running about playing. Jenna held the bobbins so that I could ply my spinning while we watched TV together. Jenna went to bed very late taking a torch and one of her H2O books with her.
Friday: Another slow start, including the dreaded shoe hunt. Museum morning - painting story stones, making pet rocks, and a letter trail to find pictures of semi-precious and precious stones (eventually spelling BLUE JOHN). The art gallery on the top floor had new things, and the children inspected some of the new collections and art work. Lunch with friends. Home via Oxfam to buy shampoo, and a cheap packet of toothbrushes from another shop to replace those that Talia put in the toilet earlier. In the taxi on the way home the children sang a French counting song until I asked them to stop repeating the same thing over and over!
At home it was still baking hot, so we set up a fan in the living room and filled the paddling pool in the garden. The children all lay on the floor to watch Grandpa in my Pocket with Rowan, then played in the pool a while, mixed up some interesting concoctions ("perfume" apparently) with flower petals and grass and seeds and so on. Morgan had another turn with the spinning wheel.
Jenna worked on her Klimt picture. Morgan played castles with the Ostheimer toys. Rowan mostly ate ice cubes. We started listening to some music on Spotify and I remembered a track I wanted to show them with a great video, so we looked it up on Youtube and sort of fell down a rabbit hole trying our own stop frame animation. :) Jenna wrote a very sweet miniature letter to her Daddy, in tiny but not very neat joined up handwriting. Martin got home early for candle lighting.
Saturday: I spent a while reading and ignoring what was going on in the garden, which when I checked on them turned out to be a water fight and a big mess of wet picnic blankets. The girls put on a dance show for almost an hour, and I gave my full attention to about fifteen minutes of it overall. I could hear the music they had on, from the kitchen sink where I was doing washing up (and soaking wool for dyeing), and it spanned a very eclectic range of styles!
After that they wanted some help with the stop frame animation they were planning, and I spent a very hot sticky half hour balanced on a stool taking photographs for them. Morgan did most of the actual animation bit on the computer with me.
Morgan built a huge rainbow castle. The children made their own soup and sandwiches for lunch. Jenna put Big Little Planet on again. I asked her to play with it muted, because the music from it is starting to grate now. Morgan made story dice and wrote a story using that inspiration - or more accurately wrote a sentence then drew pictures for the rest of the "book". Everyone worked together to tidy the living room again.
A not-quite-entire week of things I managed to write down. Yes, I know I am mixing past and present tenses through the entire thing and bits of it are totally disjointed. No, I am not putting myself forwards as having it all right or setting out a plan for anyone else's kids. This is just a brief record of some of the ways in which my children are learning, snippets of our unschooling journeys right now. I almost certainly missed important things out, and rambled about unimportant things. :)
I've been asked a few times recently what an average day or week looks like for us, and I have to say, there is rarely such a thing as an average week. Their interests and passions change, the level of active play versus quiet role play, the amount of reading, whether there is any big project going on, what things I find noteworthy, or which activities look like "learning". My point is, it's all learning. Even the weeks that don't look like anything much.
Well, I've been writing this down as we go - and I find it so interesting that it's still tempting to play up all the stuff that really Looks like School and otherwise generally show the highlight reel even while the point of this post is NOT to do that. But I know some will find this useful, and some will find this comforting, and some will find this interesting and inspiring, and frankly some will think it looks inadequate (but hell, they're probably judging anyway, whether I post this or not). ;)
* * *
Sunday: Our day started with some painting in the garden in the sunshine, followed by watching two episodes of Doctor Who. Morgan's painting of a rainbow dried really quickly. I think it may be the first time she painted or drew a rainbow without asking in which order the colours go. A lot of running around and several different role play games - which are the background to our entire lives - Hogwarts, being mermaids, Victorian children, and pretending to be animals are the current favourites.
Then we went to a friend's house. Morgan and Jenna remembered from grandma's house how to find middle C on the piano, and how to make the chord of C. Morgan helped make gravy from scratch. Rowan played with (and disassembled) a toy car wash, and Jenna played on a James Bond game for a couple of hours.
Some weeks, Sunday is the day when the kids often go in for a full-on day of questions, experiments, exploring and so on. Not this week! It was really what I'd think of as an entirely average Sunday in a house with children. :) Since we don't have the frame of reference of school days and weekends, or term time and holidays, and the children aren't accustomed to seeing learning as something that happens at certain times in certain places, there is every chance of turning up on a weekend and finding a full scale science fayre or maths texts all over the place. It happens. Quiet weekends are pretty rare for us, anyway, and I rather relished this one.
Monday: We usually head to the library, but the Mister had taken my bank card to work with him so we had to wait in. The bigger girls built a den in the garden, Rowan came and took over the laptop to identify two butterflies she had seen in the garden. Jenna asked one of her deep questions ("Could anyone have stopped World War Two before it happened?") and we ended up discussing appeasement, trade sanctions, the League of Nations and the UN.
We went out to sling meet, and walked into town from there to catch a bus home. A friend came back to play. The kids all watched a lot of Horrible Histories, and Jenna played a level of Big Little Planet then read two pick-your-own mystery books back to back. She played a while on Pinterest and eBay with me too, she wants to decorate the house for her birthday party next month and has lots of ideas.
Tuesday: Jenna played on Big Little Planet for the entire morning, building a new level and playing co-operatively online. Rowan and Morgan pulled the den down in the garden, climbed the willow tree, and played the sink/float game in the bath with practically every toy they could find.
We headed into town for a treat and I gave the two older ones a £10 allowance to spend on anything they liked. Jenna bought three books (one of Greek Mythology, a current favourite interest, and two H2O Just Add Water books, a cutesy tweeny mermaid TV show they watched on Netflix a while ago and still rather love) and a pick and mix. Morgan bought a dot to dot book, a pack of Sylvanian babies, a world map, and a Disney magazine.
After flopping on the sofa at home and playing with the new things we did a quick tidy up before my mum's dogs came to stay, then went to the children's church club where there was a sort of sport/activity trail and the children scored points for scoring hoops with a basketball, number of skips in a minute, dart score with six darts, and so on. Jenna got two more RSVPs for her birthday party. Talia tried to escape the building twice.
Wednesday: Jenna and Morgan both took a long turn on the spinning wheel, eventually getting the hang of it enough to produce a few metres of very slubby orange yarn. Jenna read two of her new books while Morgan and Rowan watched some cbeebies (and Rowan had one of her massive world-ending meltdowns about my inability to take her into town again today), then they made popcorn together and sat eating it listening to some folk music I put on at their request.
Then they all ran around in the garden with playsilks tied to their wrists, and when I went out to check on the dogs the girls were all sitting under the willow tree playing families with Talia wrapped up in a silk being their baby. I took them out a picnic of veggie sausages, red pepper, pears, chocolate spread on digestive biscuits, and the little teapot and cups to make themselves tea. Talia got hold of the chocolate spread and Morgan took her upstairs for them to get a shower together while I put away some clothes in the next room.
When we came down (with three children wrapped in towels) Jenna had put Big Little Planet on and was playing a difficult level she just got on to. "I wonder if the Japanese had a Sushi god?" She thinks out loud. Wikipedia tells us that Inari is the Shinto god/goddess of rice, and Uke Mochi was goddess of food. Hmm, close enough for Jenna apparently. When the little ones shed their towels we all did some melted wax pictures with the iron and everyone spent some more time flopped all over the living room with music on, just too sticky to move.
Most of the rest of the afternoon turned into a game with the My Little Pony toys. Jenna spent another hour building on Big Little Planet while I did some spinning and Talia had a proper nap for the first time all week. The LEA lady I had declined a visit from arrived, and was turned away (I'm very glad Jenna knows not to let people in even if they flash a badge)! Jenna also went out to her drama group.
Thursday: We're all still so tired in the sticky heat. Nobody much feels like doing anything very active! Rowan and Morgan played in the paddling pool, and Jenna made tape sculptures. Everyone did some building with coloured ice blocks I'd frozen last night, and painted with the frozen cubes on watercolour paper. Talia particularly enjoyed playing with a giant frozen watercolour block in the shower afterwards. As far as planning craft activities go, once a week is pretty average for me, even though we all love art and crafting - most of the input isn't me and my ideas any more. :)
Doctor Who (three episodes from the Tenth doctor) and another go on the spinning wheel each. A big monkey platter of cheese, boiled eggs, and salad veg for lunch, followed by iced chamomile tea with lemon juice. Morgan helped me to hang out the washing, then asked me to do some maths with her (four pages of a workbook aimed at older children). Jenna stood in the kitchen doing the background for a Klimt-inspired collage she has been talking about making all week, and making one of the projects from her Ruby Loves magazine. We made sunprints when some new blue photographic paper arrived in the post. "Why do they have to be washed to make the colours work?" asks Morgan, and Jenna explains better than I can.
Morgan and Rowan started a game with a basket of shells, playing mermaids, and counting the shells into groups as I have done with the little ones before. Rowan stood every single wooden figure out on the shelf and they ran around having conversations between the little figures for a while. Jenna had a book of British Birds in hand and was looking up the precise colouring of Blue Tits so that she could draw one. Talia decided it was nap time, so I nursed her to sleep. ("Booobieees!" she wails mournfully when I don't pick her up quickly enough.)
We turned down an invitation to the park, Jenna read some Octonauts books to Rowan and Morgan read the creature reports (first time I recall her reading aloud in at least a month), we all watched the 70s Alice in Wonderland (again), and everyone helped make dinner: spaghetti with oven roast vegetables. Some spaghetti fell on the hob and the children moved it to a plate to watch it burn. Lots more running about playing. Jenna held the bobbins so that I could ply my spinning while we watched TV together. Jenna went to bed very late taking a torch and one of her H2O books with her.
Friday: Another slow start, including the dreaded shoe hunt. Museum morning - painting story stones, making pet rocks, and a letter trail to find pictures of semi-precious and precious stones (eventually spelling BLUE JOHN). The art gallery on the top floor had new things, and the children inspected some of the new collections and art work. Lunch with friends. Home via Oxfam to buy shampoo, and a cheap packet of toothbrushes from another shop to replace those that Talia put in the toilet earlier. In the taxi on the way home the children sang a French counting song until I asked them to stop repeating the same thing over and over!
At home it was still baking hot, so we set up a fan in the living room and filled the paddling pool in the garden. The children all lay on the floor to watch Grandpa in my Pocket with Rowan, then played in the pool a while, mixed up some interesting concoctions ("perfume" apparently) with flower petals and grass and seeds and so on. Morgan had another turn with the spinning wheel.
Jenna worked on her Klimt picture. Morgan played castles with the Ostheimer toys. Rowan mostly ate ice cubes. We started listening to some music on Spotify and I remembered a track I wanted to show them with a great video, so we looked it up on Youtube and sort of fell down a rabbit hole trying our own stop frame animation. :) Jenna wrote a very sweet miniature letter to her Daddy, in tiny but not very neat joined up handwriting. Martin got home early for candle lighting.
Saturday: I spent a while reading and ignoring what was going on in the garden, which when I checked on them turned out to be a water fight and a big mess of wet picnic blankets. The girls put on a dance show for almost an hour, and I gave my full attention to about fifteen minutes of it overall. I could hear the music they had on, from the kitchen sink where I was doing washing up (and soaking wool for dyeing), and it spanned a very eclectic range of styles!
After that they wanted some help with the stop frame animation they were planning, and I spent a very hot sticky half hour balanced on a stool taking photographs for them. Morgan did most of the actual animation bit on the computer with me.
Morgan built a huge rainbow castle. The children made their own soup and sandwiches for lunch. Jenna put Big Little Planet on again. I asked her to play with it muted, because the music from it is starting to grate now. Morgan made story dice and wrote a story using that inspiration - or more accurately wrote a sentence then drew pictures for the rest of the "book". Everyone worked together to tidy the living room again.
A not-quite-entire week of things I managed to write down. Yes, I know I am mixing past and present tenses through the entire thing and bits of it are totally disjointed. No, I am not putting myself forwards as having it all right or setting out a plan for anyone else's kids. This is just a brief record of some of the ways in which my children are learning, snippets of our unschooling journeys right now. I almost certainly missed important things out, and rambled about unimportant things. :)
15 July 2013
Weekending: shade-seeking summery
This weekend my middle brother and family had arranged a birthday party on a local park for my little nephew Joshua. They picked the perfect shady spot under the trees, and we had just such a beautiful day chatting and celebrating.
The children wanted the giant lollies, then quickly got bored of them and left them in cups for me to "look after" while they ate practically their own body weights in fresh fruit and ice cubes.
Six fruit skewers, this tiny human consumed, SIX! Some days she just seems to eat nothing at all, and yet some days she will easily eat an adult portion of something she thinks looks tasty. Today she didn't want food at all, until she spotted a salad someone had left at sling meet and sat eating all the onion off it. Yes, I know, I'm a terrible mother because my children forage/eat sweets/gorge on random things/don't eat enough. ;) I tell you, letting go of the idea that I need to control everything that goes into their bodies has been a very liberating process!
The garden is pretty parched, but the roses still bloom gloriously and perfume the air. The willow tree provides just enough shade to sit out there in the mornings and evenings.
I'm not all that keen on very hot weather. Which is practically sacrilege to admit in a country that makes complaining about the rain a national sport. I like the shady crisp cool depth of Autumn. I'm a bit melty and grouchy right now. I'm glad for the bright beautiful days and the outdoor living, but I need a fresh breeze in my hair to be entirely happy with the weather!
Sunday morning I had one of those moments where I realise I've been too preoccupied, busy, and sticky-hot to offer anything new and exciting for a few days, so I got the paints out in the garden for the three smaller ones (while Jenna was still off camping with her friend, and apparently wallowing in a huge muddy puddle!) - I fully expected them to end by painting themselves and each other, and of course they delightedly did. :)
Then we visited a friend for the afternoon. Jenna and Jeremy spent some time shrieking with delight and allowing the younger children to use them as floor cushions, and Talia mostly experimented with the piano (and was *very* surprised by the sound of the trumpet). It wasn't a quiet afternoon, but no less welcome for it. None of the children wanted to head home to bed in spite of the lateness of the hour and the necessity of getting a lift while one was on offer!
This week is already looking like another busy and outdoorsy one. I'm definitely starting to feel a bit more positive and like I've turned a corner out of the long and difficult month. I can't remember feeling quite this light-hearted for a while. :) Maybe all the sun is doing me some good after all.
The children wanted the giant lollies, then quickly got bored of them and left them in cups for me to "look after" while they ate practically their own body weights in fresh fruit and ice cubes.
Six fruit skewers, this tiny human consumed, SIX! Some days she just seems to eat nothing at all, and yet some days she will easily eat an adult portion of something she thinks looks tasty. Today she didn't want food at all, until she spotted a salad someone had left at sling meet and sat eating all the onion off it. Yes, I know, I'm a terrible mother because my children forage/eat sweets/gorge on random things/don't eat enough. ;) I tell you, letting go of the idea that I need to control everything that goes into their bodies has been a very liberating process!
The garden is pretty parched, but the roses still bloom gloriously and perfume the air. The willow tree provides just enough shade to sit out there in the mornings and evenings.
I'm not all that keen on very hot weather. Which is practically sacrilege to admit in a country that makes complaining about the rain a national sport. I like the shady crisp cool depth of Autumn. I'm a bit melty and grouchy right now. I'm glad for the bright beautiful days and the outdoor living, but I need a fresh breeze in my hair to be entirely happy with the weather!
Sunday morning I had one of those moments where I realise I've been too preoccupied, busy, and sticky-hot to offer anything new and exciting for a few days, so I got the paints out in the garden for the three smaller ones (while Jenna was still off camping with her friend, and apparently wallowing in a huge muddy puddle!) - I fully expected them to end by painting themselves and each other, and of course they delightedly did. :)
Then we visited a friend for the afternoon. Jenna and Jeremy spent some time shrieking with delight and allowing the younger children to use them as floor cushions, and Talia mostly experimented with the piano (and was *very* surprised by the sound of the trumpet). It wasn't a quiet afternoon, but no less welcome for it. None of the children wanted to head home to bed in spite of the lateness of the hour and the necessity of getting a lift while one was on offer!
This week is already looking like another busy and outdoorsy one. I'm definitely starting to feel a bit more positive and like I've turned a corner out of the long and difficult month. I can't remember feeling quite this light-hearted for a while. :) Maybe all the sun is doing me some good after all.
14 July 2013
Week in Pictures
1. What happens when you ignore a four year old. (That's the contents of my spice rack allll over the garden!)
2. What happens when you don't enforce chores in any way.
3. What happens when you underestimate the English summer!
4. What happens when time flies. (That's a photograph of my family when I was about seven years old.)
5. What happens when you ask everyone to get ready to go out.
6. What happens while baby sleeps in mama's arms.
7. What happens when I get new fibre for my spinning wheel! (Craft obsession of the moment!)
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