compare and contrast

[The following is another post I wrote long-ish ago and never got around to posting here. I was trying to figure out a rhythm in this space before I posted these writings. I think I've got it figured it, even if my practice has not been perfect.]

I wonder if it's human nature to make comparisons between people. There are times I feel it's all we do, but I think I'm incredibly sensitive and I have this inferiority complex coupled with a vicious streak of perfectionism (yes, it's fun here in my head).

But, really, right now, I'm thinking about this in terms of being a parent. It seems like, from the start, people are checking 'em out and sizing 'em up*. It's all about when our respective kids rolled over, started crawling, got teeth. How old was your kid when she started walking? How many words or signs did your kid know by the time he was a year old? My kid started talking in complete sentences when he was nine months old. Oh, really? Mine was already reading Tolstoy by then...when she wasn't composing concertos and starting the newest dada revolution.

Or something.

Actually, at first I felt like this was the tenor of a lot of conversations and I tried not to get sucked in, but I wasn't always successful. I can go on and on about how long it seemed to take Pic to finally start crawling. (How old was she? I can't even remember now. Eight months? Ten months? All I know for sure is that she started at some point and has long since moved on.)

I had a nice big freak-out around the time she was four. She wasn't reading picture books on her own by then. I couldn't sit her down with The Piggy in the Puddle and have her give a reading for us.

I've worked really hard to not feel any pressure when it comes to any of that anymore. I've tried to not put any pressure on any others either. I know that I probably still ask those questions -- Oh, is she starting to walk now? -- but I leave my responses to the more general 'oh' or 'uh-huh, well everyone learns/develops at his or her own pace, right?' variety. I really try.

But, back to what I was saying above: is it natural that we make these comparisons or am I so far entrenched in a system of constant evaluation/ranking/hierarchizing that to be without that feels wrong?

The questions I get about Pic now are along the lines of what she's learning and how much she knows. Is she learning? Does she know the requisite very-young-person stuff? Is she finished with kindergarten?

I find my reactions to these questions range from discomfort to amusement. I obsess so much about the reading thing for reasons I won't go into now, that I want to be able to answer that she's reading and comprehending and thinking critically about Hamlet by now. I mean, duh, of course, why wouldn't she be, right, with a mom who has deep roots in literature? I'm striving to keep all of that anxiety bottled up or scribbled in my own writing to keep it away from Pic, but it's not easy.

As far as the other questions, the questions about her grade level? I find those a bit amusing. We're not homeschoolers who are replicating school at home. We're unschoolers. Pic's never been in a grade. She's never been a part of the K-12 deal (although we always called daycare 'school' when she was going). She'd be in kindergarten had we sent her to more traditional schooling**. But, here's the thing: we didn't. We didn't send her off to school. She's not in any grade. If she stays home, she'll never be in any grade. I'll never be able to tell someone what grade she's in. I have no idea how she'll respond to this question when she starts getting it herself.

I know the whole concept freaks people out and I'll tell you, it freaks me out a bit, too. I was all about school when I was there. I'm kind of still all about it. I was good at school. It's one of the only things I've ever been really good at. I was good at the tasks and the tests and the worksheets and getting the right grades. I myself am learning how to exist outside of that. I'm not even really certain we can live completely outside of that as the career Pic has chosen for herself will require a college degree.

I'm waiting for someone to ask if Pic is happy or where her passions are instead of the more focused questions about content and grade-level of her learning. I think we're all so ensconced in the rhetoric of schooling that it takes a paradigm shift to be able to discuss learning outside of multiple-choice and essays and scantrons and report cards.

* I actually have a children's book named this. I haven't ever read the book and I have no idea where exactly it is right now, but really...

** I always find it strange to call public/private school 'traditional' because I feel homeschool was probably more the traditional schooling well before 'brick-and-mortar schools replaced them as the new traditional. I also don't like to always say 'brick-and-mortar' because then I like to mentally shorten that to 'b-&'m' schools and then I just start thinking 'bm' as in 'bowel movement' and, yes, I really do think about everything this much.

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11/3: Wow, it's been a whole bunch of weeks since I wrote that. I had almost forgotten about it. I wrote it probably somewhere near the beginning of the summer. I'd like to add a bit:

I was very obsessed with the topic for a while because I was hearing how another's child was doing so very well in the traditional school subjects. I felt like a 'And how's Pic doing?' was implied at the end of each statement. I have definitely calmed down over the last few months. Perhaps it has something to do with entering a new decade in my life and deciding that I need to shift so much of my life, to step back, to calm down, to find happiness in what I have.

At the time of the conversation I just (kind of) mentioned, I decided I was just going to say 'That's really great for [whoever]." I figured this would be a good, general response to these situations in which I was feeling uncomfortable, threatened even. I know that I need to remove myself from competitive situations if I want to accomplish much and feel good about myself. I mean, hello, I am creating competitive situations out of thin-freaking- air, so I definitely need to chill.

After using that standard response a couple of times, I started to really get behind it. Because I really do think it's great that your child is reading (I love reading) or that his child is flying through math or that her child picked up playing the piano like it what the child was born to do. I also think lots of things Pic does are great.

Rationally, I know that others aren't constantly challenging me to prove how fabulous my own child is. I know that I bring this all on myself. I also know that my own child is her very own person and I am not responsible for her accomplishments. I feel that I am responsible for trying to expose her to/guide her to/teach her what she is interested in.

Also, I now know how Pic would respond to someone asking what grade she's in. I'll write about it later, as I've written to much here...without even saying all that I wanted to say. I'll remind myself that I like to think through my writing and that this is definitely bloggy-type writing and that I'm swirling around too much in my head on this topic right now.

imaginative play and some wondering, to boot

[I buy gifts and cards and never actually give these things to their intended recipients. That's actually something I vowed to work on in my 101 in 1001. (Oh, yeah, I also write lists like that, and then eventually just set them aside. Oy.) Basically, I'm a planner, and I even occasionally start to realize* my plans, but, I'm really better about the planning than the follow-through. Another case?

A while back, I went on a writing spree. I had all these things I wanted to share in this space, but I wrote them elsewhere and have just let myself become overwhelmed by various bits of life. So, I have all of this writing waiting for me to do something with it. I'm finally getting around to sharing here. The following is something I wrote probably in early September. See, I'm working on improving myself; and, I figure that starting with the small stuff is at least starting.

* I can use 'realize' that way, right? As in 'make real.' I'm saying yes, because I just did it. And, yes, I'm off to look it up now. Yep, the use is legitimate. Also, another definition I didn't know is, according to my computer's handy built-in dictionary, "make (money or a profit) from a transaction)."]

A month or so ago, Pic asked me to play 'ladies' with her and I decided we could use the ladies to play out the Beauty and the Beast story (or, rather, a mishmash of Beauty and the Beast stories). I was tired of only ever playing restaurant and library with the dolls.

So, over the weeks, the story has evolved into a merchant father with three daughters (two kind and one obnoxious). The father has to go out to sell merchandise, because that's what he does, you see. He goets lost and ends up at a mysteriously open, yet empty palace. He goes in and calls out repeatedly but no one answers. The merchant enjoys dinner, a dry night's sleep and then breakfast before he takes a book from the castle's library and a rose from the castle's garden and gets caught by the beast ('Um, excuse me, I'm a beast,' Pic narrates) who wants two daughters in return for the merchant's life. The father returns home, retrieves his two daughters who go to the palace. One marries the beast. ('I would like to marry you,' Pic voices for the beast as soon as he meets the youngest daughter.) The father and the other two daughters live with them, too. Not too long after, the youngest daughter has a child who is not at all furry because her mom is 'not a beast-woman.'

Pic is often upset when I try to change the story up a bit -- although she doesn't seem to mind when she alters it. She was going by the story I was telling her and by what she remembered from the Disney movie. Finally, we watched the Disney movie (it's been on pretty constantly for the past several days) and read a version of the story. I keep trying to show her how there are different versions of the story and how we can really make up whatever we want, and yet, I continue to hear, 'Mamma! That's not how it is in the movie!' (Um, what's that again child who insists there are three daughters, only one of whom is greedy and mean?)

Today we broke out one of our many, many story collections and read a version of the story in which the merchant had been rich but has lost his ships and cargo at sea. After a year of living meagerly, he sets off to retrieve cargo from one of his ships that has suddenly come ashore, only to find out that his goods have been promptly stolen. The prince/beast in this story has been turned into a beast by an evil fairy. That same fairy has made his parents invisible. They reappear when Beauty falls in love with Beast. Oh, and there's a silver ring as instant transportation device in this story.

This time, I read through the story as Pic and I acted it out with her dolls. We ran through the show twice, adding our own flair along the way.

Now, we're (once again) watching the Disney movie. (Okay, so it's on while I compose and while Pic skates around the living room.)

Some observations on this movie:

* Why does Mrs Potts have such a young child? How old was she when she stopped having kids? Or, does she just look older because of the caricatured older-woman features: matronly build and grey hair.

* Why does 'Beast' not get a real name? Because, seriously, if his parents named him Beast, what did they expect out of him in life?

* What happened to Beast's parents?

* What's up with the timeline? At the beginning, Beast is turned into a beast when he refuses shelter to an elderly-seeming woman. He has until his twenty-first birthday to get someone to fall in love with him. It's been a decade when we get to the story. So, Beast was ten when he refused to let the woman in? And, then, she set him the task of getting someone to fall in love with him...at age ten?

* Were there not teapots and candlesticks and clocks and feather dusters and armoires and stoves and all the rest before the enchantment? Because all those animate objects are presumably people (we see them back in their human selves and we see a lot of other people in the castle at the end), so is there a whole set of inanimate household objects stuffed in a cupboard somewhere?

* How does the bookstore owner stay in business? The one transaction we see is him giving Belle a book and everyone else seems to think reading is strange.

* There's a part in the opening song when a woman with an armload of babies apparently says, 'I need six eggs,' and a guy sings, 'That's too expensive.' For the very longest time (like until yesterday), I thought she was saying, 'I made success' in her frantic voice and he was telling her that her procreational success was too expensive.

* I love Angela Lansbury.

That is all.

Actually, I could probably ask a million more questions, and I do have more, but I'll stop here...for now.

nearly wordless wednesday

"I just thought I wanted to cut my ribbons."

one up and one down

Yesterday, in the midst of me floundering around, trying to function like a "normal" human (whatever that means), Pic is having a great time. While I'm having a quiet, but scary, breakdown, she is soaking in the good times. How can I make sure she holds onto that? How do I attain that for myself?

Anyhow, we were settling down last night, Pic told me, "This was a great day! I got to see the fireworks, I got a pocsicle, I gotted to play. And, did you see me do the monkey bars? I did them all by myself!" (No, those weren't typos. I was transcribing Pic-speak.)

Looking at it through her eyes, it's all crayon scribbles and sparklies. We should bottle that up!

screens and sleep, not the best of friends

We've been spending much less time in front of screens lately, especially in the evening. (In fact, I'm about to be signing off here shortly.) This has made getting to sleep at night somewhat easier, but it has made it much more difficult for me to visit this space. Especially because when I do enter the ether, I want to check out other people's blogs before I start working on my own.

So, I'll be slowly working on how to work visiting into this space into my daily rhythm. I am thinking that will mean much more writing by hand and transcribing (or whatever the typing equivalent of that is) later. For now, I'll be sharing little bits here and there, although I have a lot of thoughts for longer posts mulling in my head.

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A bit of conversation from the other night:

I was telling Pic that the backs of my knees hurt (reason: sunburn...ouch). She told me, "My legs hurt, too. It hurts my craps."

I asked her, ignoring that I had no idea what "it" was, "Your what?"

"My craps."

"What?"

"Craps."

Insert my thoughtful pause here. Pic points at her leg and asks, "What are these?"

"Oh! Your calves!"

Never a dull moment.

crumble, as promised

So, we are down to the dregs of the crumble. Really, there wouldn't be any left if it were up to me. I was trying to be fair and leave a piece for Cardo, but he's letting it go to waste! (Actually, I think we can safely say that he let it go to waste, already.)

I made this crumble exactly once last year, no matter that it's just incredibly simple and tasty. Last year, I made it according to the recipe, with cherry and apricot. This time, we only had nectarines, peaches and apricots. And, we were lucky to have these thanks to the fabulous generosity of our dearly beloved Auntie C.

Pic actually stuck with me for the entire making of this.

Why yes, the small one does use sharp knives.

Sliced, sugared and floured.

Meanwhile, as the crumble bakes...Pic takes over the camera. So, what's going on in the living room?

A little Dolly...



...with some dollies. (Actually, Pic is very specific with her labels and she does not call plush non-humans "dollies.")



As Pic had the camera, I asked her to snap a quick shot of the crumble. And, a quick shot she took. (You've got to capture that crumble before it scampers away!)

One pan for us and one pan for Auntie C, Uncle A and Baby H.

All plated up and ready for me to eat. So wonderfully tasty: the fruit a bit tart and the topping nice and crunchy and sweet, but definitely not too sweet. Perfect for breakfast, lunch, dinner and/or dessert.

it's all crayon scribbles and sparklies round here

Yes, our child is going to be that child who's pierced and tattooed with rainbow streaks in her hair and kohl lining her eyes. We're already the kind of parents that make others worried because these things don't concern us. We're not out to squelch her natural style and I hope she doesn't let anyone else do that either. Here's hoping that we continue to surround ourselves with wonderfully accepting support network.

milestones

So, Friday was kind of a big deal around these parts. Pic can apparently diagnose her own ailments. Okay, so while that was true in this case, that wasn't the big deal, but it plays a part.

Friday, Pic was miserably exhausted and told me, in a whimper, "I have allergies. I didn't sleep very well last night. I had a hard time breathing." We took her to the doctor just in case, as she's had difficulty breathing before (nothing major, mind you...and I just knocked wood). Dr T affirmed that, yes, allergies were the problem. While we were in for the visit, our nurse weighed Pic and she's finally, finally at forty pounds.

We have been waiting for this threshold so we could get her a booster seat for the car. On her sixth birthday, she freaked a bit about still using the carseat, but I was being a stickler about the forty pounds thing. So, last night, after spending time with our dearly beloved friends and their wee one, we stopped at Target and got a booster.

And, well, my child is racing through this childhood, feet barely grazing the ground. I'm not sure I'm ready for this, but I'm trying to play it cool. It might not seem like much, but I assure you, it is. At least for us.

here in the middle of the dark

I should probably be sleeping. I've been called and called to come to bed already, but I'm weirdly resistant to that. (Seriously, tell me it's time to go to bed and that's just about a guarantee that I'll be up for at least three more hours.)

So, what am I doing? Almost listening to a tv show on Netflix. (I'm not really watching it and I only have it on to drown out thoughts that might fill my head and make it impossible for me to read. Yeah, yeah, I have issues.)

I'm also reading some more of Q is for Quarry in snatches while I wait for blog pages to load. Over here in blogland, I'm catching up on dooce. This post on Leta losing her second tooth cracks me up. Oh, the joys I have to look forward to once Pic starts losing her teeth.*

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* We've recently had a Tooth Fairy conversation. Pic told me that some people don't believe in the Tooth Fairy. I told her the concept was the same as that of Santa Claus in that various people act as the Tooth Fairy/Santa Claus/whoever else for those receiving the benefits. Pic is adamant that there is, in fact, an actual Tooth Fairy. I left the conversation there. I love that she chooses to believe in the Tooth Fairy in the face of my "rational truth." (That so deserves the quotes, because, for Pic, the truth is that there is a fairy that lives somewhere else, maybe in another land she told me, who takes care of whisking away our unneeded teeth.)

all made up

Oh, my child, who is at the same time so like me and so unlike me. She just came in the den to show me this:




She is such a girlie-girl (sometimes). Now, if only Mamma owned eye shadow, she wouldn't have to resort to using washable marker (thanks be she used the washable marker).

I think I must be a very different person now, in many ways, than I was when I was Pic's age. I remember my favorite color was pink. I wanted pink everything: skin, hair, eyes, ecc. I liked dresses and "being fancy" in general. I'm not sure when I grew out of this. Long ago.

Pic's favorite color is black and she doesn't mind getting dirty (I hated being dirty and I still kind of do). However, she loves wearing skirts (while simultaneously wearing several other layers of clothing) and makeup. When she recently spent the night at her friend L's house, she was almost bursting with glee because they got to play with makeup. She's obsessed with weddings and all the frilly stuff that's supposed to go along with them. Just wait until she hears about school dances. (Hmm, school dances? Perhaps we'll have to hold some homeschool dances.)

If she doesn't grow out of this, well, let's just say that if she ever chooses to get married (and, if she's able to) I might be steering very clear of her. I jest...I'll simply keep very quiet and remember that it's not my party. ;)

from the mouth of the babe...

The other day, I actually sat down to watch Disney's Hercules with Pic. There's a scene when Pegasus is trying to squeeze through a small opening and his rear end is prominently displayed on the screen.

"Is Pegasus a boy or a girl, Mamma?" Pic asked.

"What do you think?"

"A girl, I think. I don't see a penis...unless it's really short."

Good thinking.

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A couple of nights ago, I was telling Pic that I hope to get old one day. She responded that she'd also like to get old. Then, she told me, "Then, I'll get to be part of the soil. I'm so excited!"

I've been afraid of death since I can remember, but my child, who always amazes me, looks forward to the prospect of decomposing into the soil. It's like she just gets that, yes, death is a natural part of the life cycle. I'm thinking that, when she starts reading Harry Potter on her own, she'll appreciate Dumbledore's take on death. I, on the other hand, will probably end up hanging out with the likes of Nearly Headless Nick.

parenting fail: holey, holey teeth

I hate to be told I'm bad at something. I tell myself enough that I'm bad at all kinds of things, so when others jump on that wagon, I tend to get really (quietly) defensive.

For the last couple of weeks, Pic has been telling us that her back, bottom left tooth is hurting. We decided it was finally time to take her to the dentist. (I know, I know. However, Cardo's first visit to the dentist was incredibly late in his life and I have a lifelong history of scary, painful, entirely unpleasant dentist office experiences.)

So, last week was Pic's first dental visit. All went well except the four cavities in the four corners of her mouth, gaping like little Grand Canyons in miniature. The dental hygienist was awesome. She was so patient and cheery and really connected with Pic. I never had a visit like this when I was little. (There had to have been pediatric dentistry back then, no?) Then, the dentist came over. He was more businesslike, which I think is partly due to his job. He came, inspected Pic's mouth and spouted off a bunch of numbers and letters and ominous-sounding terms I don't even remember but which sounded like we'd need to get her a set of tiny dentures or something.

After Dr Dentum* performed his exam, he told informed us of the evils of snacking. Then he listed a huge amount of foods that lead to sugar build-up on teeth. Most of the foods -- Gatorade, soda, Cheetos, chips, ecc, ecc, ecc** -- Pic doesn't eat. He finally got around to candy, though. She does like herself some M&Ms. Also, she and I have majorly (holey) sweet teeth***. Dr Dentum admitted that telling his patients the evils of snacking doesn't cause them to stop snacking, rather he was informing us so we could choose to do something about it. We're choosing to brush our teeth many, many more times a day. He also suggested not bringing forbidden fruit into our home, which would work best for me personally...if I had any willpower whatsoever.

We go back in a couple of weeks for some pretty serious (and pretty friggin' expensive) dental work. I sincerely hope we've learned from this experience. I don't want to go back in six months or a year or two (or ever) and learn that we've failed in the dental hygiene area once more. I also don't want Pic to be in any more pain.

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* Not his name.

** ecc is the Italian equivalent of etc. ecc = eccetera. I like to use it in my informal writing.

*** Can we pluralize "sweet tooth"? Hmm.

from the mouth of the babe...

I think I've managed to shift Pic's understanding of the world. The thing is: I thought she already knew that cartoons weren't real. Oops.

A couple of days ago, she told me, "I wish I could visit the Chipmunks." I explained to her that they were drawings and I felt I could see this information sink in. She looked perplexed and slightly intrigued. This is the kind of information she stores away for later, waiting to bring it up again for further confirmation. This is the kind of information she hold onto until she can apply it to other situations.

Last night, we were reading a Berenstain Bears book together and Pic asked me if Mama Bear was "made up." "They're all pretend," Pic continued, "because bears don't usually talk and wear clothes." No, not usually.

We've had a few more conversations about this. At the same time I like to experience this learning process with Pic, I feel a bit strangely sad -- I feel I've taken something from her. I tried to frame it positively, though, assuring Pic that these characters are parts of someone's imagination and represent something she also can do.


"The Chipmunks - Girls of Rock and Roll [FULL] [HIGH QUALITY]"
(Wow. The Chipmunks and Chipettes are wonderfully confident and passionate!)

label-maker

I have this life-long love of language. I think about it, obsess about it, very, very often. I give probably entirely too much thought about words and phrases. Even when I seem to be just rambling, I'm concurrently analyzing everything I say, or storing it away for later analysis. And, because I have no real main, unifying topic for this here blog, I figure I might as well allow myself to wax on about terminology when I feel the urge.* So, here goes.

Back here, I said that I'd talk about the term "homeschooling." I keep using the term, but really only because I haven't wanted to reveal just how out on the edge I seem to be.** However, I think it's finally time for me to just write this post.

Yes, I identify us as homeschoolers, but more than that, I align us with unschoolers. We don't use a curriculum and we never have (and I don't intend to). There are times that I have directed what Pic is doing and I'm sure I'll find myself doing that in the future. It's difficult to completely diverge from my own experience, so this whole adventure will be a learning process. I am consciously trying to just go with what works for us and what we are interested in, though. I see no reason to set Pic down with a textbook or a worksheet unless she asks for such. And, please, before you roll your eyes, I actually used to ask for textbooks to read for pleasure. I recently bought myself a middle school math book from a rummage sale. I like to practice math problems. I like workbooks and textbooks. And, yes, I'm a total nerd. However, I don't know that Pic will be the same. I'm waiting to find that out.

I've heard a lot of talk and have read a lot of information on unschooling being child-led, but I am thinking more family-led. Yes, I am working to do my absolute very best in allowing Pic to choose what direction she'd like to go in her learning. I ask her what she is interested in learning about and she requests books on specific topics from the library. She chooses which movies she wants to watch and chooses many of her activities. We don't always do everything she wants, but if we don't follow her desires, we provide her with a reason why we're not going there. For example, Pic wanted to go swimming today, but it was really weirdly cold and windy and Cardo and I didn't want to hang out in the outdoor pool we have access to. We probably could have gone, even if only for a few minutes, and this is definitely an example of us not being too stellar, but we didn't just tell her, "No. Because we said so," and leave it at that. We told her why we didn't want to go and we asked her if she had any other ideas for what to do instead. We played for a good bit out at a park she chose, playing games she chose, after we visited the library where she choose books and a movie. I know this all probably comes across one of two ways. One: You might be thinking, "Duh. This is no revolutionary way to raise a child. Saying yes to things she'd like to do? You should have taken her swimming. What's wrong with you?" (Okay, I really hope you're not that harshly judgmental.) Two: "Why would you give your child so much power? The parents are in charge and kids have to do what the parents say. The end." (I also hope you're not this harshly judgmental.) Pic is a part of our family. Yes, she's younger and has less experiences than we do, but she's still a person. I don't see why we can't do and learn and explore with her. Whenever we want to tell her no about something, I want to have a good reason why. Often, on our walks, she'll ask if she can walk barefoot. Probably a year ago, we'd say no and leave it at that. Now, though, we tell her, "Okay. Please look out for glass [which we occasionally see] and let us know if you want to put your shoes back on." Nothing earth-shattering, but our lives are so much easier.

In fact, since we made the choice to not send Pic off to school, we all seem to be much more relaxed. When we're all together, most often, we have nothing to rush off to. We are able to spend leisurely time together. It's the "quality time" so many are often striving to fit into their days. We so enjoy our time together, hanging out at parks and walking/biking/rollerskating, that this really was one of the many reasons we decided to skip the normal school choice.

So, wow, I've said a lot and I haven't even really said what I wanted yet. ("Oh, no, I've said too much/I haven't said enough.") What did I want to say? We aren't just homeschoolers. We aren't just keeping Pic home from school and replicating the schoolroom at home. As I said, we aren't purchasing or otherwise acquiring a curriculum. So, we fit into the category of unschoolers. I am working on whole-life unschooling, but some of us (ahem) are a little more resistant to that. We'll work on it. But, here's the thing. No matter how much I love the idea of unschooling, I'm not the hugest fan of the term unschooling. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but I'm thinking several things. I don't like the negative connotation. I, for the most part, loved school. What I loved was the learning and the (very) few close friends I had. However, Pic can, and does, have all of that without the school building, without the taunting and peer pressure. (We'll see how those negative aspects of life pop up in Pic's life. I'm not looking forward to it.)

I recently saw the term "homelearning." I've probably seen it before, but it just struck me the other day. I really like the focus on learning there. What I'm really liking, though, is "life learning." [If you've been paying incredibly close attention, for whatever reason, you'll notice that I started using the tag "life learning" just before I announced our not-off-to-school plans.] Pic hasn't been formally schooled, yet she has learned plenty. She's been in daycare, but left before the kindergarten program started (she started at eighteen months and left when she was almost four-and-a-half). We had planned on her going to kindergarten, but, well, I started tuning into this whole world of (secular) homeschooling and unschooling. So, yes, we haven't started on the K-12 experience. And, yet, the other day, as we were counting out quarters for the bus, she told me, "We need sixteen. We have twelve, so we need four more." Just like that. She didn't even stop to think about it. I haven't taught her to subtract. I wasn't even helping her count the quarters. All I told her was that we needed sixteen. This was kind of the a-ha moment for me. Although I've heard it many times, that people can and do learn from life, I was seeing it in action. It was a small moment, but potent.

Okay. That was long, but it's late and I'm awake, so I'm rambling. In case you couldn't tell, I think through writing. It is through writing that I often come to understanding. So, Great Interweb, thank you for providing this space for me to spew my thoughts. And, thank you for providing for me oh-so-many resources and community members for this next great adventure.

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* Just an example or two. In this sentence, I had first typed "since" instead of "because." I changed it because I've heard that "since" should only be used to indicate a passage of time. For example: Since I was three, I've been determined to teach. Also, I typed "theme" instead of "topic," but, well, "theme," in literature, implies not only a subject, but a statement or judgment about that subject. For example: subject/topic: love; theme: love is a many-splendored thing. And, yes, oh geez, I could just live in my head.

** Also, the term "homeschooling" is convenient and familiar.

going in a different direction

[You might want to grab a mug of tea or coffee or a glass wine or (my favorite) a pint of ice cream. This is going to take a while.]

Where to begin? I have been putting off posting what I’m going to post for quite some time.

The whole situation, the whole idea that I need a special post, is a little silly, I think. Had we decided to do things the conventional way, I could have just ignored the whole topic. I could have posted a quick picture, with or without text and have been done with it.

However, we are about to be going down a somewhat unconventional path.

For the last year, I have been learning about homeschooling and unschooling. I have devoted countless hours of critical thinking to the topic. I have been a woman quietly obsessed. I shared my interest with others who are already traveling along this path, but not really with anyone else. Okay, until the last few months, not with anyone else. I have never been a very brave person and, therefore, I tend to quietly do what I prefer and then let others in on what I’m doing later. I didn’t want to write what I thought of as a traditional college essay when first applying, so I wrote about my soulmate (not regarding young love, but a friendship). When I decided to move in with Cardo, when I was twenty-one, I only discussed it with him. When I wanted to marry him, I asked him and then informed my parents that I was getting married.

I’m not exactly sure I act in the way I do, because I happen to have in my life some of the most supportive people anyone could ask for. I can’t remember a time my family hasn’t supported me in a decision. The family I was born into and the family I have created are relentlessly supportive. As I said, I’m just not brave. I’m continually and ridiculously afraid of what Others will think. I know, I know that I should not take any of that into consideration, but I do, at least in my own quiet way. And who are these others anyhow? I’m not quite sure. I just generally feel this societal pressure to do things a certain way, but I sometimes wonder if I’m creating this pressure out of nowhere.

Okay, so I’m way off in the Land of Rambling here. I have long been thinking that homeschooling, in some incarnation, is the right choice for our family. There have been countless times I’ve wanted to share that information publicly, if only to explore avenues of support, but it took me a good ten months to even start to talk about it seriously with Cardo. He was pretty quickly convinced that it is indeed the right choice for us. I cannot express how happy I am that he and I agree on this.

We did not choose all of this without the input of Pic. I know that will sound incredibly silly to some people because she is five, but it’s not silly. We are talking about her education here. She was most concerned with having other kids to play with. Funny, this is a concern most people seem to have when it comes to announcing that we’ll be homeschooling. In case you’ve never met Pic, or in case you’ve forgotten, she’s an incredibly social person. I have no fear that she won’t be “properly” socialized. Cardo and I agreed that there was no way we could do this without being a part of a community.

Shortly after we agreed to homeschool, we met a homeschooling family at one of our regular outings. The mother, who was out with some of her children, was gracious enough to give us some of her time and to answer some very basic questions about homeschooling. She provided us with a few resources to check out and wished us luck.

I searched out some Yahoo! groups in our area and found one that seemed like a great fit for us and our principles. Last week, Cardo and I tucked away (most of) our social awkwardness and we, along with Pic, met with some other local homeschoolers. Pic spent a good deal of time playing by herself, but then, finally, went off to play with some of the other kids. She often needs to sit back and observe when in a new situation. I know exaclty how she feels.

The get-together was pretty great. While I know that there are other people out there who are doing what we want to do, what we are doing, it was great to actually meet them. We look forward to meeting up with these people again and we look forward to meeting more people from the group.

I am not entering into this thinking that everything is going to be peachy-keen all of the time, but I am entering into this optimistically. And, I should be. Why would I send my child off into something I wasn’t at all sure about? We had found a school we wanted to send her to, but it just wasn’t as good a fit for us as we see homeschooling to be.

I could go on for hours and hours more. As I said, I have been mulling over this for quite some time. I’ll try to keep the rest of this post short and fill in more in later posts.

I keep emphasizing that I think this is a good choice for our family. I don’t think that everyone should do things the same way we are doing them. I don’t think that everyone would, or should, want to and I don’t really think that everyone would be able to. I feel a bit like we are coming at this from a position of privilege and I want to acknowledge that. First, of course, we know that this is an option for us. We earn enough income to be able to do this. (By “we,” at this moment, I mean Cardo.) We aren’t what I would call wealthy and I often wonder if we are even a part of the middle class, financially, but we have plenty. We have tons and tons of books (almost every one purchased secondhand) and we have access to infinitely more through our wonderful libraries, thrift stores, used book stores and so on. We have wonderfully reliable and quick internet access. And, now, we have a group. And, of course, we have each other. What more can I ask for? (I’m not sure yet, as we’ve only just begun this journey.)

I know that plenty of people will have plenty of opinions about this decision. So far, we have only received support, even if it has been of the quiet variety. I wasn’t planning on telling anyone until this post (that I’ve been mentally composing for what feels like forever), but Cardo has started to tell our friends. They might have questions and they might be skeptical (and they might think we have stepped over into the realms of crazy), but they have not run off, refusing to any longer associate with us. I’ll take this as a good sign.

However, we (and by “we,” I again mean Cardo) have told very few of our friends. I anticipate that some will tell us that we are making a risky or wrong decision. I am even preparing myself for the chance that some will no longer be a part of our lives (although I certainly hope that doesn’t happen). Perhaps I’m being melodramatic here, but I’m so used to hearing people tell me that it’ll be “good for me” and for Pic when she heads off to school. Here’s the thing: we rather enjoy our life. It probably isn’t anyone else’s ideal, but it’s ours. We continually talk to Pic about this change (or, really, lack of change) and she is so far in support of the decision. Given we are talking about her education, she will always have a say in this, of course.

I cannot believe that I’ve gotten through this whole post. This decision feels, at the same time, momentous and commonplace. This is such a divergence from how I was raised and from how Cardo was raised. We are not rejecting or negatively critiquing our own upbringings, we have just chosen to do things differently. And, I could not have come to this decision without having had my family raise me the way they did. There are times, though, after having read the blogs and listened to the podcasts of people who are already living this way, that I feel like this is some incredibly widespread movement we are joining.

For now, I’m still in the mode of embracing this decision and looking for ways to support this decision. I welcome respectful comments or e-mails on the topic and I even welcome questions. While I might not be prepared to answer questions, thinking about the answers will help me to focus my own thinking.

I feel like I’ve just bared a very vulnerable part of myself. I have read many snarky and hateful comments on this topic when others have been brave enough to share their experiences and I don’t want to open myself up to them, but I want to share this news. As I said, if we were going the more conventional route, I wouldn’t even have felt the need to share. Perhaps I would have just posted a picture of Pic on her first day. But, I feel the need to explain and kind of justify (which I haven’t even really done here). I guess that’s just the part of the process I’m at with this. There is so much more that I could share here, but this post has been super-long enough as it is.

For now, please wish us the best.

Grazie mille.

[I have since started telling my family and I told Poke who was super incredibly supportive of this decision. Thanks, all!]

puzzling

[I'm a bit burnt out right now, so I'll keep this short.]




It took Pic and me about three days to complete this 550-piece puzzle. I love it! It was definitely a challenge, but it was a great one. I couldn't pass by the table without putting together a piece or two...or thirty.

When I was younger, we'd buy puzzles from thrift shop and put them together. This was an activity my mom, my sister and I participated in. Pic has always been fond of puzzles. It's nice to be able to share at least some similar interests with her.

pic the sponge

For quite some time now, since before Pic was even talking, I've been conflicted about how much to share with her and how much to shield her from the pretty ugly stuff that can happen in this world. When I'd read aloud, from my own books, I'd silently read anything that seemed too violent. I feel that I don't want to censor anything from her, but I also don't want her to know that people can be so hurtful and hateful. I'd like her to never know the bad stuff, although I know that she'll eventually figure it out (not through first-hand experience, please, not through first-hand experience).

Anyhow, lately Pic has been on a Hercules kick. She has been watching the Disney movie and having me read the corresponding book to her. We were all watching the movie the other day and the subject of Oedipus came up. I'm not sure if he was mentioned in the movie (hmm?) or if I was just talking about him. When Cardo asked me who Oedipus was, I hesitated in answering him. Pic was right there. I wasn't sure that I wanted to tell her that the man in question had murdered his father. However, I didn't want to tell him, "I'll tell you later," so I gave him the basics of the story.

A couple of days later, in the middle of an unrelated conversation, Pic said to me, "Oedipus killed his dad and married his mom...but he didn't mean to." She's got an amazing memory. I constantly marvel at it, as my memory has never been stellar (one of the main reasons I do all of the writing I do).

She didn't dwell on the subject, but she did seem momentarily concerned. Then, she moved on to the next subject.

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I just looked up a synopsis of the story, as it's been so long since I've read the play, and I'm still not sure if old Oed had children with his mother or not.

off the catwalk

Pic just asked me, "Can I wear these everywhere I go?" I told her, "Of course, if that's what you want." We'll be running errands shortly, so we'll see if she keeps them on.



(I know the picture is somewhat blurry. There are little alligators along the edge of the goggles.)

curiosity fed the cat

We are pet-sitting for some friends. Among their pets is a young, male cat. We'll call him Comet. Yesterday, when we came in to feed the pets, I picked up Comet and cradled him in my arms as if he were a newborn baby. He stretched his neck and brought his nose close to mine. Not satisfied with this, he reached up his paws and kind of held my face in his paws so he could really explore this new face near his.

Today, Pic and I watched as Comet chased a ball, attacked a feathered toy and dug around in a box. He wanted to know whence every sound came. He wanted to know what was hanging on the wall (and he almost knocked a couple of family portraits off the wall, which caused me a moment of panic). He wanted to follow us around and sniff us. As we were leaving, I told Pic that Comet was really curious, just like her.

Then, I started thinking of those phrases like "child-like curiosity" and "child-like wonder." I thought how sad it was for those kinds of phrases to be child-centered. It's as if we're expected to follow the "don't ask, just accept" rule as we age. I feel sad that the wonder seems to fade as we learn and "know" more.

I've always asked a lot of questions. Plenty of people have pointed this out to me. However, I also simply pass over so much. I know it's kind of rampantly commonplace, but having a young child in my life has definitely helped me to slow down and notice more again and to ask more questions again. We might not always come up with answers to all of our questions, but it's been fantastic going through life with my eyes wide open.

Pic definitely asks a lot of questions also. She wants to know why things, people and animals are named what they are. She wants to know what every word means. She wants to know what the ants do when they return to the holes in the sidewalks. She wants to know about the oil spill and how the wildlife is getting on in this ongoing disaster.

Not only does she want answers, she wants to stop and notice every flower and insect and dog on our walks...and she wants me to notice them, too.

Her curiosity and wonder are great (both vast and wonderful) and I hope she retains both always. And, I hope to be right there, asking questions also.

lunch pail tales

I started reading Fed Up With Lunch: The School Lunch Project a while back. I can't remember how I came across it in the first place. (I like to remember how I've gotten to the blogs I read.) I've really enjoyed the guest posts, especially a recent one featuring Mendy Heaps.

Heaps is a teacher who took action regarding the unhealthy food offered and sold at her school. She started offering water in her classroom -- the water was available to students throughout the day. She started selling baggies of fruits and vegetables in her classroom. Eventually, there was enough demand from other students in her school that she started peddling her fare on the Fruit Cart that students took from classroom to classroom at the end of the day. After a bit, she was reprimanded and she quit her Fruit Cart enterprise. Back to the unhealthy, yet oh-so-tempting, snacks. Ugh.

We are soon entering the world of elementary school and elementary school food. Well, kind of. I'm pretty sure that I've shared here before that I brought lunch to school throughout my schooling. Actually, by the time I reached high school, I preferred to wait until after school to eat, but I did occasionally still bring lunch. Indie and I'd bring food and share. I fully intend to send Pic with a packed lunch every day. I have grand plans of us standing together at the counter, every night before a school day, packing our lunches together (although me packing a lunch is somewhat absurd). I've long been scouting out and saving school lunch ideas in preparation.

Some inspiration:

dalai mama dishes

'the lunch box post' from beauty that moves [just one example out of many from this blog]

what's for lunch at our house [I'm still way back in 2007 on this one]

Buon appetito!

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Currently watching; Julie & Julia