So, Noble turned 3 in March, and the "why?"s have already begun :)) It
can be exhausting, but it is so exciting!!!! I keep having flashes of
this funny skit by Kat Williams, where he is talking about how his son
is asking him question after question, until Kat Williams starts
crying. Upon inquiry from his son, Kat Williams says, "Cuz Daddy don't
know sh*t!" lol. These questions certainly help me realize what I may
or may not know :)) I love having these interesting conversations with
my son -- talk about processes in freedom!! Why IS this or that a
certain way??? Why can't an octopus talk, but they talk in books and
on movies? Lots to think about -- layers of interesting food for
thought :)
I have to say, though, that my favorite part about this stage with my
son is that I love that he is asking questions, and I want to keep
intact him questioning about life. I seem to remember, with Kassidy
(my oldest) focusing on answering things for her and sometimes asking
her why she thought "...". Albeit kind and loving, my goal was to
complete her questions and her questioning phase. With Noble, I don't
ever want it to stop!!! Well, maybe he can progressively ask himself
more often, than just me -- lol. Kass has been gone at ren fair all
weekend, so she hasn't experienced this yet. I wonder how she will
like his insatiable new interest in the world around him :)). I wonder
how her lack of patience may impact him on his path... Learning is so
exciting to me. The more I watch my children unfolding while we are on
this unschooling journey, the more exciting it is. Unschooling rocks!
It is so obvious and apparent to me, how can anyone question it's
validity? That is so foreign to me now!!! All I see is learning and
living. Life is such good stuff.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Service?
So, I got an email from Sandra Dodd this morning saying that a response I submitted to her about how I feel about the word "service" is now posted on her site!! That is soooo cool to me!!!! I am just so honored! Sandra Dodd's site was the catalyst for the transformation into the "yes mom" I work so hard to be. Now I get to be a voice, to join the many, of wisdom on her site. Wow...
So, this is the page (and I am about 3 snippets down on the right-hand side)
http://sandradodd.com/service.html
So, this is the page (and I am about 3 snippets down on the right-hand side)
http://sandradodd.com/service.html
Friday, May 28, 2010
Red!
Monday, May 24, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
My Role
I think a lot about my role in my kids' lives. I prefer to live intentionally, and so I am very thoughtful about the impact I am having on my kids (or not). I wrote this not too long ago:
I really want my kids to trust themselves, to keep that sense of self intact. I want them to continue to think for themselves, not start to rely on me for information about a situation. I want to just be present with my kids. I feel like I am undermining it, by trying to "teach" or "guide" or even offer unsolicited "insight" at moments. I think that the unsolicited part is really the key. When I shut up and just watch my kids evolve, I see so much personal growth for them and for me! I am constantly reminded of how brilliant they are and how they always learn for themselves. Just like I trust that they learn their academics through real life, I trust that they are learning the rest of life through real life, too :) They don't need me to "teach" them these things, and I feel like my teaching is undoing their learning.
I was trying to figure out how I felt about offering advice to them. Currently, I feel like my "advice" IS an offering, and they don't need to take it. I feel like I am a strewing opportunity for my kids: my advice and stories and interests and all of that are one way of doing things and may offer some insight if they want it. Recently, I read this by Scott Noelle:
:: Helping vs. Co-creation ::
Q: How do you know when it's appropriate
to offer your child help/assistance?
A: When the offer feels *inspired* rather
than fear-based.
If you're coming from a perspective that your child is
helpless, damaged, weak, incompetent, lost, wrong,
etc., then your "help" will only give power to that
belief. It won't feel inspired to you, and it won't
inspire your child to connect with his or her Power.
But if you consciously shift your perspective to one
in which you see your child as capable of finding his
or her way, you won't feel like you "should" help, and
you probably won't offer to help unless asked.
However, you might be *inspired* to get involved in a
way that doesn't feel like you're a "have" helping a
"have-not" -- it'll feel more like two souls playing
together, co-creating purely for the joy of it!
http://dailygroove.net/helping
Feel free to forward this message to your friends!
(Please include this paragraph and everything above.)
Copyright (c) 2010 by Scott Noelle
I think he is really onto something... I also wrote:
I am finding the importance of making sure my children know that I am human, like anyoe else, like they are. I learn, I evolve, I change, I try something a million times before I figure it out, I am not always correct or accurate or "right". This is something I am figuring out for myself, as myself. I am finding my balance between accepting myself as perfect as I am, and accepting that I don't have to be right about everything, that it is okay for me to make a mistake or be incorrect about something, etc.
And:
You're Not the Boss of Me: This is my new favorite line recently. It really helps me be clear on where I end and someone else starts. Whether it be someone trying to get me to do something, or if I feel like someone is wanting me to feel a certain way, or if I find myself trying to control my kids (then I imagine them saying it). It is just a very clear little phrase that often has me laughing, too, when I think of it (and humor is like the spoon of sugar that helps it all go down easier). I offered it to Kass, too, in case she ever wants to use it for when I don't catch myself trying to tell her what to do :) What a fun phrase :D
And:
"I" and "You":
So, I have been thinking a lot recently about my language during interacting with my children. I am focusing a lot, on my path currently, on listening.
I recently realized that I really like the way it feels when I use "you" language during connecting with my children. When they are upset or telling me something, I might say, "You are upset!?" or "You like to do that, hah?" :) It feels so good, really tuning into them, rather than making it about my story, about "I".
When I am being authentic, it feels very good to use "I" language. I might say, "Gosh, I really don't want to play that game right now." or "I don't like the way it feels when you do that." or "I'm really concerned for him when you do that."
I really love disinguishing the difference between the two :)
And:
Respect:
I often hear this word used by parents in reference to how they parent or interact with their kids. I think it is one of those words (like love) that can have very different out-picturings. I use those words as a vehicle to understanding and accepting parents who do things differently than I do. I am really striving to connect with other parents these days, to know that they are doing what they feel is respect and love with their children. I just see it as different than my way of expressing it. Lemme explain:
Respect: I respect my kids to make their own choices, whereas some other parents respect their kids to help them manifest the outcomes that the parent sees as most favorable. I don't see either as "better", just more aligned with whatever goals one has.
As I am understanding these things, I am finding myself able to align myself better with what feels right for my family, and also to be enveloping of other parents on their paths. I prefer to spend my time with likeminds, and I enjoy seeing the benefits of this (oftentimes in comparison to more mainstream groups), but I always welcome an opportunity to connect with another person in shared understanding :)
This was posted in a group that I am in:
I try to respond to dischord between my kids and to their individual meltdowns with honest, compassionate expression of my feelings about the situation. We keep a conversation going about living and being human. I don't let myself get caught up in a fantasy of ever-happy kids and I don't hold myself directly responsible for keeping everyone perfectly happy. I just try to do my best and relax.
This was a piece of a moment I was having (full post in "Athenticity" post):
It seems that instead of trying to mediate life or interactions, my role is to nourish hurt feelings and support experiences and opinions and listen a LOT and answer mostly only when asked. I see being controlling as a form of fear of trust (a friend shared this key with me), but I DO trust when I rethink and align what I am fearing/controlling and my current understandings, and I am learning to trust even further.
[clip]
One thing I am learning to trust is my feelings. I am less uncomfortable with discomfort (haha @ that sentence). I used to stuff or stuff myself or hide or hide from or get upset or get angry from discomfort. I am starting to understand that leaning into discomfort is exquisite emotionally, an opportunity to learn about me and my opinions and what triggers me (all of life that I experience is a reflection of me -- what is being reflected?). When I mediate life to avoid discomfort, I am missing out on experiences to reflect on myself and shake out old stuck feelings. When I mediate life for my children, I am robbing them of learning experiences, too, which is especially important since we are unschoolers/life-learners/whole life unschoolers. I learn more from intensity (that is WHY it is intense!), and avoiding intensity is like avoiding life, avoiding growth, avoiding learning, avoiding self. Mediating myself (like those social training things we internalized from our childhood) is avoiding making an impact, and then I compensate by trying to (only) make a big positive impact by sharing all of my "good, positive" stuff.
I'm still situating my understanding of my role in my kids' lives and my responsibility to them and to me. I like the path I am on. That's a good start, in the very least :)
I really want my kids to trust themselves, to keep that sense of self intact. I want them to continue to think for themselves, not start to rely on me for information about a situation. I want to just be present with my kids. I feel like I am undermining it, by trying to "teach" or "guide" or even offer unsolicited "insight" at moments. I think that the unsolicited part is really the key. When I shut up and just watch my kids evolve, I see so much personal growth for them and for me! I am constantly reminded of how brilliant they are and how they always learn for themselves. Just like I trust that they learn their academics through real life, I trust that they are learning the rest of life through real life, too :) They don't need me to "teach" them these things, and I feel like my teaching is undoing their learning.
I was trying to figure out how I felt about offering advice to them. Currently, I feel like my "advice" IS an offering, and they don't need to take it. I feel like I am a strewing opportunity for my kids: my advice and stories and interests and all of that are one way of doing things and may offer some insight if they want it. Recently, I read this by Scott Noelle:
:: Helping vs. Co-creation ::
Q: How do you know when it's appropriate
to offer your child help/assistance?
A: When the offer feels *inspired* rather
than fear-based.
If you're coming from a perspective that your child is
helpless, damaged, weak, incompetent, lost, wrong,
etc., then your "help" will only give power to that
belief. It won't feel inspired to you, and it won't
inspire your child to connect with his or her Power.
But if you consciously shift your perspective to one
in which you see your child as capable of finding his
or her way, you won't feel like you "should" help, and
you probably won't offer to help unless asked.
However, you might be *inspired* to get involved in a
way that doesn't feel like you're a "have" helping a
"have-not" -- it'll feel more like two souls playing
together, co-creating purely for the joy of it!
http://dailygroove.net/helping
Feel free to forward this message to your friends!
(Please include this paragraph and everything above.)
Copyright (c) 2010 by Scott Noelle
I think he is really onto something... I also wrote:
I am finding the importance of making sure my children know that I am human, like anyoe else, like they are. I learn, I evolve, I change, I try something a million times before I figure it out, I am not always correct or accurate or "right". This is something I am figuring out for myself, as myself. I am finding my balance between accepting myself as perfect as I am, and accepting that I don't have to be right about everything, that it is okay for me to make a mistake or be incorrect about something, etc.
And:
You're Not the Boss of Me: This is my new favorite line recently. It really helps me be clear on where I end and someone else starts. Whether it be someone trying to get me to do something, or if I feel like someone is wanting me to feel a certain way, or if I find myself trying to control my kids (then I imagine them saying it). It is just a very clear little phrase that often has me laughing, too, when I think of it (and humor is like the spoon of sugar that helps it all go down easier). I offered it to Kass, too, in case she ever wants to use it for when I don't catch myself trying to tell her what to do :) What a fun phrase :D
And:
"I" and "You":
So, I have been thinking a lot recently about my language during interacting with my children. I am focusing a lot, on my path currently, on listening.
I recently realized that I really like the way it feels when I use "you" language during connecting with my children. When they are upset or telling me something, I might say, "You are upset!?" or "You like to do that, hah?" :) It feels so good, really tuning into them, rather than making it about my story, about "I".
When I am being authentic, it feels very good to use "I" language. I might say, "Gosh, I really don't want to play that game right now." or "I don't like the way it feels when you do that." or "I'm really concerned for him when you do that."
I really love disinguishing the difference between the two :)
And:
Respect:
I often hear this word used by parents in reference to how they parent or interact with their kids. I think it is one of those words (like love) that can have very different out-picturings. I use those words as a vehicle to understanding and accepting parents who do things differently than I do. I am really striving to connect with other parents these days, to know that they are doing what they feel is respect and love with their children. I just see it as different than my way of expressing it. Lemme explain:
Respect: I respect my kids to make their own choices, whereas some other parents respect their kids to help them manifest the outcomes that the parent sees as most favorable. I don't see either as "better", just more aligned with whatever goals one has.
As I am understanding these things, I am finding myself able to align myself better with what feels right for my family, and also to be enveloping of other parents on their paths. I prefer to spend my time with likeminds, and I enjoy seeing the benefits of this (oftentimes in comparison to more mainstream groups), but I always welcome an opportunity to connect with another person in shared understanding :)
This was posted in a group that I am in:
I try to respond to dischord between my kids and to their individual meltdowns with honest, compassionate expression of my feelings about the situation. We keep a conversation going about living and being human. I don't let myself get caught up in a fantasy of ever-happy kids and I don't hold myself directly responsible for keeping everyone perfectly happy. I just try to do my best and relax.
This was a piece of a moment I was having (full post in "Athenticity" post):
It seems that instead of trying to mediate life or interactions, my role is to nourish hurt feelings and support experiences and opinions and listen a LOT and answer mostly only when asked. I see being controlling as a form of fear of trust (a friend shared this key with me), but I DO trust when I rethink and align what I am fearing/controlling and my current understandings, and I am learning to trust even further.
[clip]
One thing I am learning to trust is my feelings. I am less uncomfortable with discomfort (haha @ that sentence). I used to stuff or stuff myself or hide or hide from or get upset or get angry from discomfort. I am starting to understand that leaning into discomfort is exquisite emotionally, an opportunity to learn about me and my opinions and what triggers me (all of life that I experience is a reflection of me -- what is being reflected?). When I mediate life to avoid discomfort, I am missing out on experiences to reflect on myself and shake out old stuck feelings. When I mediate life for my children, I am robbing them of learning experiences, too, which is especially important since we are unschoolers/life-learners/whole life unschoolers. I learn more from intensity (that is WHY it is intense!), and avoiding intensity is like avoiding life, avoiding growth, avoiding learning, avoiding self. Mediating myself (like those social training things we internalized from our childhood) is avoiding making an impact, and then I compensate by trying to (only) make a big positive impact by sharing all of my "good, positive" stuff.
I'm still situating my understanding of my role in my kids' lives and my responsibility to them and to me. I like the path I am on. That's a good start, in the very least :)
Authencity
Authenticity has been a big thing for me in the near past, to bring me where I am now. I posted this elsewhere, but thought it was still relevant in my life, so I tweaked it and posted it here:
I saw a bumper sticker the other day that got me reflecting on what I value about our family interactions....
The bumper sticker read "I [heart] my wife". And my first reaction was, that is sweet. Then I started thinking, unless she made him get it, or even pressured him in any way. In that case, wouldn't it just be a reflection of her, not him? So, I started thinking about the analogy with radical unschooling... Take manners for example: some parents force their kids to say please and thank you, but that doesn't sound like true thankfulness to me. I try to be mindful about not forcing my kids to do things: I don't want their actions to be about me, but about them -- it's their life and their internal compass. It's like a love spell: if you force someone to fall in love with you, you never know if they really do or not, but for some people I guess, all they want is the love, not the choice to be loved by that person.
And I find it to be SO much sweeter when a child choses to say they love me than do it when they are told to <3
Here is another one:
I have been really feeling how far-reaching this can be, recently. Not only do I not tell my kids what to say or how to act (oftentimes, I don't even make suggestions), but I am starting to really grasp how this includes the kids' interactions with each other. I am currently searching out how to extend this to the conflicts between them - I have long been a mediator between them, and I think I am going to really enjoy being in the mindset of just another party whose role is to love and understand everyone, rather than the judge or security.
Just as an untaught "thank you" or an unforced "I love you" means more to me and seems to validate them and their dignity, I see their authentic interactions as another "god-given" right to chose and navigate for themselves.
So, I stopped suggesting manners or what-not about a year ago, and my daughter has been refiguring out how she feels about them for herself. I love it! Even in the midst of my own discomfort (or, more accurately, that urge inside me to "say and do" manners that was well-intentionally taught to me), but it is thrilling to experience them figuring it all out themselves, for themselves.
Authenticity runs so deep to me, as someone who was well-intentionally managed and taught, as someone who looked outward for answers instead of checking in with myself to see what I want to do :)
More:
I heard people say that part of being authentic is not doing something with your kids when you don't want to be doing it, and I also hear "do this to be a good unschooler", and I hear "fake it til you make it". These are the conclusions I have come to... If my daughter wants me to play a game with her and I really don't like it but I do anyway, am I being authentic? I was trying to understand how it can be. I realized that I am not liking the game, but I am being authentic in wanting to connect with my daughter by playing with her.
So then I was thinking, how could this be applicable? I was thinking, if I am doing something ONLY because I think I "should" or "have to". In those instances, maybe it is too far-removed from authenticity.
My current take on authenticity involves following our internal compass, trusting ourselves, sharing what is coming up, focusing on connecting, and taking responsibility for my own stuff.
More:
After reading Part 1 (http://dailygroove.net/radical-honesty),
you may be wondering if it's a good idea to be
radically honest with your child, too.
For example, suppose you're angry about something your
child did. Should you tell your child how you feel?
Children can feel your anger whether or not you talk
about it, so there's no point in hiding it. But being
honest about your anger doesn't mean expressing
it *at* your child.
Instead of yelling, "I'm really mad at you for doing
that!" you can process the anger separately. If it
feels emotionally honest to curse and stomp, you can
do so without "pointing" the negative energy at your
child. Turn away and don't make eye contact until
you've transformed the anger into *determination* to
get what you want. Then you can say something like,
"I *really* want you to find another way! I *know* we
can work this out..." etc.
In other words, don't use "honesty" as an excuse to
dump on your child. Be honest with *yourself* and find
a way to "detoxify" your truth before expressing it to
your child.
http://dailygroove.net/radical-honesty-2
Feel free to forward this message to your friends!
(Please include this paragraph and everything above.)
Copyright (c) 2010 by Scott Noelle
I wrote this about being real:
I am having this wonderful unfolding of layers concerning this. I wanted to share and build with others on it :)
Real is authentic -- it is not a mediated, controlled, watered-down, or candy-coated version of the world. It is full and rich with lots of feelings and experiences and opportunities -- not all "good" or "bad", and these terms can be obsolete if we let go of judgment.
It seems that instead of trying to mediate life or interactions, my role is to nourish hurt feelings and support experiences and opinions and listen a LOT and answer mostly only when asked. I see being controlling as a form of fear of trust (a friend shared this key with me), but I DO trust when I rethink and align what I am fearing/controlling and my current understandings, and I am learning to trust even further.
One thing I am learning to trust is my feelings. I am less uncomfortable with discomfort (haha @ that sentence). I used to stuff or stuff myself or hide or hide from or get upset or get angry from discomfort. I am starting to understand that leaning into discomfort is exquisite emotionally, an opportunity to learn about me and my opinions and what triggers me (all of life that I experience is a reflection of me -- what is being reflected?). When I mediate life to avoid discomfort, I am missing out on experiences to reflect on myself and shake out old stuck feelings. When I mediate life for my children, I am robbing them of learning experiences, too, which is especially important since we are unschoolers/life-learners/whole life unschoolers. I learn more from intensity (that is WHY it is intense!), and avoiding intensity is like avoiding life, avoiding growth, avoiding learning, avoiding self. Mediating myself (like those social training things we internalized from our childhood) is avoiding making an impact, and then I compensate by trying to (only) make a big positive impact by sharing all of my "good, positive" stuff. Wow, what a side of real life, I deprive the world of!!!
I saw a bumper sticker the other day that got me reflecting on what I value about our family interactions....
The bumper sticker read "I [heart] my wife". And my first reaction was, that is sweet. Then I started thinking, unless she made him get it, or even pressured him in any way. In that case, wouldn't it just be a reflection of her, not him? So, I started thinking about the analogy with radical unschooling... Take manners for example: some parents force their kids to say please and thank you, but that doesn't sound like true thankfulness to me. I try to be mindful about not forcing my kids to do things: I don't want their actions to be about me, but about them -- it's their life and their internal compass. It's like a love spell: if you force someone to fall in love with you, you never know if they really do or not, but for some people I guess, all they want is the love, not the choice to be loved by that person.
And I find it to be SO much sweeter when a child choses to say they love me than do it when they are told to <3
Here is another one:
I have been really feeling how far-reaching this can be, recently. Not only do I not tell my kids what to say or how to act (oftentimes, I don't even make suggestions), but I am starting to really grasp how this includes the kids' interactions with each other. I am currently searching out how to extend this to the conflicts between them - I have long been a mediator between them, and I think I am going to really enjoy being in the mindset of just another party whose role is to love and understand everyone, rather than the judge or security.
Just as an untaught "thank you" or an unforced "I love you" means more to me and seems to validate them and their dignity, I see their authentic interactions as another "god-given" right to chose and navigate for themselves.
So, I stopped suggesting manners or what-not about a year ago, and my daughter has been refiguring out how she feels about them for herself. I love it! Even in the midst of my own discomfort (or, more accurately, that urge inside me to "say and do" manners that was well-intentionally taught to me), but it is thrilling to experience them figuring it all out themselves, for themselves.
Authenticity runs so deep to me, as someone who was well-intentionally managed and taught, as someone who looked outward for answers instead of checking in with myself to see what I want to do :)
More:
I heard people say that part of being authentic is not doing something with your kids when you don't want to be doing it, and I also hear "do this to be a good unschooler", and I hear "fake it til you make it". These are the conclusions I have come to... If my daughter wants me to play a game with her and I really don't like it but I do anyway, am I being authentic? I was trying to understand how it can be. I realized that I am not liking the game, but I am being authentic in wanting to connect with my daughter by playing with her.
So then I was thinking, how could this be applicable? I was thinking, if I am doing something ONLY because I think I "should" or "have to". In those instances, maybe it is too far-removed from authenticity.
My current take on authenticity involves following our internal compass, trusting ourselves, sharing what is coming up, focusing on connecting, and taking responsibility for my own stuff.
More:
After reading Part 1 (http://dailygroove.net/radical-honesty),
you may be wondering if it's a good idea to be
radically honest with your child, too.
For example, suppose you're angry about something your
child did. Should you tell your child how you feel?
Children can feel your anger whether or not you talk
about it, so there's no point in hiding it. But being
honest about your anger doesn't mean expressing
it *at* your child.
Instead of yelling, "I'm really mad at you for doing
that!" you can process the anger separately. If it
feels emotionally honest to curse and stomp, you can
do so without "pointing" the negative energy at your
child. Turn away and don't make eye contact until
you've transformed the anger into *determination* to
get what you want. Then you can say something like,
"I *really* want you to find another way! I *know* we
can work this out..." etc.
In other words, don't use "honesty" as an excuse to
dump on your child. Be honest with *yourself* and find
a way to "detoxify" your truth before expressing it to
your child.
http://dailygroove.net/radical-honesty-2
Feel free to forward this message to your friends!
(Please include this paragraph and everything above.)
Copyright (c) 2010 by Scott Noelle
I wrote this about being real:
I am having this wonderful unfolding of layers concerning this. I wanted to share and build with others on it :)
Real is authentic -- it is not a mediated, controlled, watered-down, or candy-coated version of the world. It is full and rich with lots of feelings and experiences and opportunities -- not all "good" or "bad", and these terms can be obsolete if we let go of judgment.
It seems that instead of trying to mediate life or interactions, my role is to nourish hurt feelings and support experiences and opinions and listen a LOT and answer mostly only when asked. I see being controlling as a form of fear of trust (a friend shared this key with me), but I DO trust when I rethink and align what I am fearing/controlling and my current understandings, and I am learning to trust even further.
One thing I am learning to trust is my feelings. I am less uncomfortable with discomfort (haha @ that sentence). I used to stuff or stuff myself or hide or hide from or get upset or get angry from discomfort. I am starting to understand that leaning into discomfort is exquisite emotionally, an opportunity to learn about me and my opinions and what triggers me (all of life that I experience is a reflection of me -- what is being reflected?). When I mediate life to avoid discomfort, I am missing out on experiences to reflect on myself and shake out old stuck feelings. When I mediate life for my children, I am robbing them of learning experiences, too, which is especially important since we are unschoolers/life-learners/whole life unschoolers. I learn more from intensity (that is WHY it is intense!), and avoiding intensity is like avoiding life, avoiding growth, avoiding learning, avoiding self. Mediating myself (like those social training things we internalized from our childhood) is avoiding making an impact, and then I compensate by trying to (only) make a big positive impact by sharing all of my "good, positive" stuff. Wow, what a side of real life, I deprive the world of!!!
Thursday, May 20, 2010
How to Have a Babymoon
Found this on thejoyofparenting.ning.com, posted by a mama named Eva:
Having a baby moon is easy. You stay in bed, keep your pyjamas or nightie on, or better still stay naked (except for your pants as you’ll need something to hold you massive maternity pads in place!) and have lots and lots of skin to skin contact with your baby. In cultures where a baby moon is common practice, the mother is looked after by her mother and other friends, she is fed and watered and massaged as she has important work to do; feed and getting to know her baby. It is a once in a lifetime time for mum and baby and sets the foundation for their life together
In western cultures the idea of a baby moon unfortunately isn’t regarded with as much reverence. However there are links that suggest that not taking time out after having a baby to do this can lead to post natal depression, exhaustion, illness, and of course not being able to establish breastfeeding sucessfuly.
Why cut yourself off from everyone?
Immidiately after birth your adrenalin levels will be very high (adrenalin is neccessary in the 2nd stage for the fetus ejection reflex to happen). On around the third day after birth your adrelanin dips – usually coinciding with your milk coming in. Often known as the ‘baby blues’ you can get very weepy, tired and defensive. So think again about spending the first couple of days inviting all your mates round to wet the baby’s head because by day 3 you will want to crawl into a hole if you haven’t rested and taken it easy. It’s a classic come down affect and one you should be prepared for.
If you have had a natural delivery your oxytocin levels will be at an all time high, giving you a ‘loved up’ feeling towards your new baby. It’s a very special time where you and your baby need to be inseperable. If you haven’t had a natural delivery it is even more important to stay close as separation will indicate to your body that the baby has not survived and therefore milk production and bonding will not take place as it should. The smell of your baby’s vernix and it’s natural desire to nurse will indicate that all is well and milk production and bonding can continue as planned. All this is not a concious decision by your body – at this point your subconcious, innate sense of what to do when your baby is born kicks in. Call it hormones, call it gentic, it just is, mess with it at your peril! What you can be concious about is maintaining the correct conditions for these natural instincts to run their course. Other people with their smells and sounds just get in the way and can actually do damage. Your natural scent is what baby will imprint into it’s mind, so the more they can smell you and not be confused by Aunty Jeans Channel No 5 the better.
It’s interesting to observe just how many people want to see a newborn baby. There is something magical about the first week after birth. Oxytocin the ‘love’ hormone is at an all time high and leaves you feeling very blissed out and incredibly protective towards your baby. You’ll feel like you’ve fallen in love with him/her and everyone else, including your partner falls way down the list. This energy is what peole want to have a part of. They aren’t aware of it conciously, but their subconcious wants to be around it, experience and feel it. For women who have had babies they want to remember it. It’s not your baby and you’s job to give them that rush of feel goodness.
Another thing that often happens, is that people who are expecting their 2nd baby bring round thier first child to see how that child is around a newborn baby. They use your baby as a guinea pig to test the waters. Remeber guests need to be comng for YOUR beneifit NOT theirs.
Breastfeeding is a learning experience for both you and the baby. When you first start you’ll want to sit up straight, get cushions under you and probably not want to be watched by everyone. A few months in you’ll be able to feed anywhere, lying down, on the bus or in the bath (to name a few places). It’s important to not feel watched and judged when you are new to breastfeeding, especially if the person watching is themselves embarressed as you will pick up on that and feel anxious (Father in laws are a classic example!)
So how can you set up your home to alow you to have a baby moon?
Prepare to be home by:
■Preparing meals in advance (when you are pregnant) and freezing them
■Shopping for easy to cook meals like Jacket Potatoes and pasta, things that can just go in the overn or ready meals. Make sure you have lots of healthy snacks available; breastfeeding requires more calories than growing a baby.
■Getting a cleaner for a while (I know of someone who had a cleaner as a new baby present from their mum)
■Tell people that you are planning this, (use the reasons above) to prepare them
■Ask anyone you don’t need to see to stay away for a while (see email letter below)
■Watch this clip from Caroline Flint, Independent Midwife Birthwise DVD on why it’s important
Message or email to your friends I’ve writen an email that if I would write to friends had I known better 12 years ago. It’s just as, if not more important that a birth plan. Please do not worry what people think of you for making the requests– whatever you do people will have a comment so you may as well do what pleases you as you’re the one who has to live with the consequences.
Imagine if all parents made these reqeusts? In a very short time it would become the norm in our culture as it is in so many others.
“James and I are very pleased to announce thebirth of our beautiful daughter. She was born on Christmas Eve at 8 minutes to 2 in the afternoon. The labour unfortunately didn’t go to plan and we ended up in St Micheals (we had planned a home birth). (You can go into as much detail as you want!) We’re home now and are in awe of her and also a little overwhlemed by it all. It’s the first time we are doing this for all 3 of us. My mum is coming over in a few days to look after us and allow us to have some time to bond and make sure that breastfeeding gets establised as that’s really important to us. As is getting sleep and recovering from the birth! We have uploaded some photos here (link to your profile page on ‘The Joy of Parenting’ ) so you can see here.
Thanks for all your love and support in the weeks leading up to her birth and I expect you are looking forward to meeting her but for the moment we’d like to stay home getting to know Maya and would like to ask that you refrained from visiting us for the first month (or write a date when you will want them to come), that is unless you fancied coming over with food, to do some cleaning or washing! Please don’t be offended, it’s just that we would rather prevent problems from happening in the first place so hope you understand. If you do come I’ll probably be in bed with her as I plan to stay there for at least x weeks which is what midwives say is neccessary to allow bonding and breastfeeding. Although I must say I am already feeling like a protective she lion towards her!”
Having a baby moon is easy. You stay in bed, keep your pyjamas or nightie on, or better still stay naked (except for your pants as you’ll need something to hold you massive maternity pads in place!) and have lots and lots of skin to skin contact with your baby. In cultures where a baby moon is common practice, the mother is looked after by her mother and other friends, she is fed and watered and massaged as she has important work to do; feed and getting to know her baby. It is a once in a lifetime time for mum and baby and sets the foundation for their life together
In western cultures the idea of a baby moon unfortunately isn’t regarded with as much reverence. However there are links that suggest that not taking time out after having a baby to do this can lead to post natal depression, exhaustion, illness, and of course not being able to establish breastfeeding sucessfuly.
Why cut yourself off from everyone?
Immidiately after birth your adrenalin levels will be very high (adrenalin is neccessary in the 2nd stage for the fetus ejection reflex to happen). On around the third day after birth your adrelanin dips – usually coinciding with your milk coming in. Often known as the ‘baby blues’ you can get very weepy, tired and defensive. So think again about spending the first couple of days inviting all your mates round to wet the baby’s head because by day 3 you will want to crawl into a hole if you haven’t rested and taken it easy. It’s a classic come down affect and one you should be prepared for.
If you have had a natural delivery your oxytocin levels will be at an all time high, giving you a ‘loved up’ feeling towards your new baby. It’s a very special time where you and your baby need to be inseperable. If you haven’t had a natural delivery it is even more important to stay close as separation will indicate to your body that the baby has not survived and therefore milk production and bonding will not take place as it should. The smell of your baby’s vernix and it’s natural desire to nurse will indicate that all is well and milk production and bonding can continue as planned. All this is not a concious decision by your body – at this point your subconcious, innate sense of what to do when your baby is born kicks in. Call it hormones, call it gentic, it just is, mess with it at your peril! What you can be concious about is maintaining the correct conditions for these natural instincts to run their course. Other people with their smells and sounds just get in the way and can actually do damage. Your natural scent is what baby will imprint into it’s mind, so the more they can smell you and not be confused by Aunty Jeans Channel No 5 the better.
It’s interesting to observe just how many people want to see a newborn baby. There is something magical about the first week after birth. Oxytocin the ‘love’ hormone is at an all time high and leaves you feeling very blissed out and incredibly protective towards your baby. You’ll feel like you’ve fallen in love with him/her and everyone else, including your partner falls way down the list. This energy is what peole want to have a part of. They aren’t aware of it conciously, but their subconcious wants to be around it, experience and feel it. For women who have had babies they want to remember it. It’s not your baby and you’s job to give them that rush of feel goodness.
Another thing that often happens, is that people who are expecting their 2nd baby bring round thier first child to see how that child is around a newborn baby. They use your baby as a guinea pig to test the waters. Remeber guests need to be comng for YOUR beneifit NOT theirs.
Breastfeeding is a learning experience for both you and the baby. When you first start you’ll want to sit up straight, get cushions under you and probably not want to be watched by everyone. A few months in you’ll be able to feed anywhere, lying down, on the bus or in the bath (to name a few places). It’s important to not feel watched and judged when you are new to breastfeeding, especially if the person watching is themselves embarressed as you will pick up on that and feel anxious (Father in laws are a classic example!)
So how can you set up your home to alow you to have a baby moon?
Prepare to be home by:
■Preparing meals in advance (when you are pregnant) and freezing them
■Shopping for easy to cook meals like Jacket Potatoes and pasta, things that can just go in the overn or ready meals. Make sure you have lots of healthy snacks available; breastfeeding requires more calories than growing a baby.
■Getting a cleaner for a while (I know of someone who had a cleaner as a new baby present from their mum)
■Tell people that you are planning this, (use the reasons above) to prepare them
■Ask anyone you don’t need to see to stay away for a while (see email letter below)
■Watch this clip from Caroline Flint, Independent Midwife Birthwise DVD on why it’s important
Message or email to your friends I’ve writen an email that if I would write to friends had I known better 12 years ago. It’s just as, if not more important that a birth plan. Please do not worry what people think of you for making the requests– whatever you do people will have a comment so you may as well do what pleases you as you’re the one who has to live with the consequences.
Imagine if all parents made these reqeusts? In a very short time it would become the norm in our culture as it is in so many others.
“James and I are very pleased to announce thebirth of our beautiful daughter. She was born on Christmas Eve at 8 minutes to 2 in the afternoon. The labour unfortunately didn’t go to plan and we ended up in St Micheals (we had planned a home birth). (You can go into as much detail as you want!) We’re home now and are in awe of her and also a little overwhlemed by it all. It’s the first time we are doing this for all 3 of us. My mum is coming over in a few days to look after us and allow us to have some time to bond and make sure that breastfeeding gets establised as that’s really important to us. As is getting sleep and recovering from the birth! We have uploaded some photos here (link to your profile page on ‘The Joy of Parenting’ ) so you can see here.
Thanks for all your love and support in the weeks leading up to her birth and I expect you are looking forward to meeting her but for the moment we’d like to stay home getting to know Maya and would like to ask that you refrained from visiting us for the first month (or write a date when you will want them to come), that is unless you fancied coming over with food, to do some cleaning or washing! Please don’t be offended, it’s just that we would rather prevent problems from happening in the first place so hope you understand. If you do come I’ll probably be in bed with her as I plan to stay there for at least x weeks which is what midwives say is neccessary to allow bonding and breastfeeding. Although I must say I am already feeling like a protective she lion towards her!”
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Majestic Spirals
"As women who inhabit the dual worlds of possibility and responsibility, I think Mothers have a unique dance. It's the dance around a cluttered kitchen and the stride that carries a child, three hoops, and a backpack where they need to go. A Mother’s dance welcomes the moon and celebrates sunshine. The Mother’s dance teaches others to twirl."
~Tangled Macrame on Hoop City (You can check out her blog at tangledmacrame.blogspot.com)
I just discovered a new passion. Life is so abundant with opportunities for life and love and passion! :) My newest passion is hooping. Various things have accumulated to bring me here. A fellow unschooler's blog, explaining how to make one's own hula hoops, another one's blog about a "hoop jam" within walking distance of their home, pictures of hooping like ones below, remembering that I hold the family record for hula hooping on our Wii (haha!) and that I loved it as a kid. Rediscovering childhood passions ROCKS! I plan to make a bunch of hoops (crafty mama, checking in) and then I am going to host a hoop jam in our little housing community (because we have a park that I can walk to). If I make hoops of various sizes and colors and whatnot, we are sure to attract passersby, at least :D
I will keep you all posted :)
In the meantime, check out this article. It is entitled, "Hooping IS Motherhood".
~Tangled Macrame on Hoop City (You can check out her blog at tangledmacrame.blogspot.com)
I just discovered a new passion. Life is so abundant with opportunities for life and love and passion! :) My newest passion is hooping. Various things have accumulated to bring me here. A fellow unschooler's blog, explaining how to make one's own hula hoops, another one's blog about a "hoop jam" within walking distance of their home, pictures of hooping like ones below, remembering that I hold the family record for hula hooping on our Wii (haha!) and that I loved it as a kid. Rediscovering childhood passions ROCKS! I plan to make a bunch of hoops (crafty mama, checking in) and then I am going to host a hoop jam in our little housing community (because we have a park that I can walk to). If I make hoops of various sizes and colors and whatnot, we are sure to attract passersby, at least :D
I will keep you all posted :)
In the meantime, check out this article. It is entitled, "Hooping IS Motherhood".
Cute Baby Jai
Just some blurry badly-lit pics of my darling baby who never fails to bring a smile :) (or have one!)
What I learned from Sea Lyen
I can cut and create as I go, which is sooooo much funner than premade
shapes and directions, because it is more like art, where the
opportunities are limitless and tailored to my next desire. I learned
how to make a lion puppet and entertain an 8-month-old in her own
version of this craft: I put our scraps in a bag of her own and she
loved pulling them out and chewing on them -- we also brought her a
lion stuffed animal and let he gum and explore other various art and
craft supplies. I also learned how to creatively make some supplies
safe for her, like she really really really REALLY wanted the
scissors, so I wrapped the blades in some fabric and tied them closed
with another strip, and she was able to go to town on them, without me
worrying about her opening them or poking herself (note to self, buy
plastic scissors made for toddlers, but we use them for babies and let
the toddlers use whatever scissors they feel comfortable using or
interested in trying). I also go creative with his name. I asked my
son what he wanted to name his lion, and he said "sea lion"? Not sure
if he was asking if I was talking about a sea lion, but the name
sounded perfect and fun -- us ocean people :)) Then I got creative
with the spelling, knowing lions love lyin' around (gosh, I just
realized I spelled that wrong!! Rofl), and that this paper puppet
would probably spend a lot of time lyin around :)
I learned to pursue my interest:
This project was my daughter's idea (but she left early for a play
appointment), so I figured I would just help my son with his, until
crafty mama got really into it and decided to just make it for him. I
learned that if, in our future, I find myself wanting to direct his
creativity, it is just a cue for me to make my own :))
I am still not done -- being a mixed media kind of crafty mama I plan
to draw and play and explore with other mediums to enhance his lion-
ness. And I need to go fix his name, or maybe I will leave it, to be a
funny reminder of the time I was trying to be cute and creative and
got a big laugh instead :))) That is one of the best lessons in life :))
Unschooling in the Media
I wrote this to my local unschooling group, and decided to share here,
too. There were lots of great (often contradictory) perspectives. This
was mine:
I think that, like we understand the connections that happen in
unschooling (how a child can gain an understanding and interest in
something because they saw it elsewhere), this may happen with media
coverage of unschooling as well. And how many parents may have seeds
planted because of the exposure? How many moms of 4-yr-olds who are
unsure of kindergarden may watch the show and realize they have some
other options? Or how many pregnant moms consuming parenting books
but never thought to think of the school aspect yet and now is
opened up to some amazing and provocative ideas and challenges? We
will never know. I am not sure it is our place to know all the
possible ripples that sharing our truth brings to others. It is
almost like trying to control unschooling :)) We can do our part
(and that includes being relatively responsible about what media
source we are sharing our truth with -- I mean, I would, personally,
not be so sharing with, say, Fox lol), and trust that receivers are
doing theirs. I feel that if we are quiet and silent out of fear, we
are doing a disservice to ourselves and our community. If we ARE
afraid, there are things we can add to this to balance out the
possible negative reprocussions -- we can flood YouTube and google
with positive information about unschooling and hope that people
will have lots of information to sift through when they see it on tv
and it perks their interest. And if they see it and just think it is
bad or crazy and have no interest in researching it more, that's on
them and they probably couldn't have been reached anyway. And who
cares if they walk around for the rest of their life with a negative
opinion of unschooling? I think of all the people it could reach
positively. And I think of how social change comes from voicing and
criticism and a big social fad (like living more "green") and then
eventually acceptance. But if we prolong the inevitable, I think we
do a huge disservice to future generations of potential unschoolers.
Unschooling has so many wonderful voices now as a foundation, and I
wonder what it could be if we turned it lose and let it be free :))
Btw, this is my friend's e-mail that got me thinking :))
I am in favor of publicity for unschooling. There is no bad publicity! :) Even if unschooling is shown in a way we do not approve of people will hear about it. After seeing the coverage they can think about it. Maybe they will see something else later. Eventually they will make up their own minds.
A case could be made for keeping a low profile. By avoiding publicity we may prevent repercussions like stricter homeschooling laws. But if the media has decided a story is of interest, they are going to do it. No sense in letting them do it without us. I would like the representative of the unschoolers to be the most informed, experienced and well spoken person possible. Anyone want to step up?
too. There were lots of great (often contradictory) perspectives. This
was mine:
I think that, like we understand the connections that happen in
unschooling (how a child can gain an understanding and interest in
something because they saw it elsewhere), this may happen with media
coverage of unschooling as well. And how many parents may have seeds
planted because of the exposure? How many moms of 4-yr-olds who are
unsure of kindergarden may watch the show and realize they have some
other options? Or how many pregnant moms consuming parenting books
but never thought to think of the school aspect yet and now is
opened up to some amazing and provocative ideas and challenges? We
will never know. I am not sure it is our place to know all the
possible ripples that sharing our truth brings to others. It is
almost like trying to control unschooling :)) We can do our part
(and that includes being relatively responsible about what media
source we are sharing our truth with -- I mean, I would, personally,
not be so sharing with, say, Fox lol), and trust that receivers are
doing theirs. I feel that if we are quiet and silent out of fear, we
are doing a disservice to ourselves and our community. If we ARE
afraid, there are things we can add to this to balance out the
possible negative reprocussions -- we can flood YouTube and google
with positive information about unschooling and hope that people
will have lots of information to sift through when they see it on tv
and it perks their interest. And if they see it and just think it is
bad or crazy and have no interest in researching it more, that's on
them and they probably couldn't have been reached anyway. And who
cares if they walk around for the rest of their life with a negative
opinion of unschooling? I think of all the people it could reach
positively. And I think of how social change comes from voicing and
criticism and a big social fad (like living more "green") and then
eventually acceptance. But if we prolong the inevitable, I think we
do a huge disservice to future generations of potential unschoolers.
Unschooling has so many wonderful voices now as a foundation, and I
wonder what it could be if we turned it lose and let it be free :))
Btw, this is my friend's e-mail that got me thinking :))
I am in favor of publicity for unschooling. There is no bad publicity! :) Even if unschooling is shown in a way we do not approve of people will hear about it. After seeing the coverage they can think about it. Maybe they will see something else later. Eventually they will make up their own minds.
A case could be made for keeping a low profile. By avoiding publicity we may prevent repercussions like stricter homeschooling laws. But if the media has decided a story is of interest, they are going to do it. No sense in letting them do it without us. I would like the representative of the unschoolers to be the most informed, experienced and well spoken person possible. Anyone want to step up?
Local Park Day/Meetup Ideas
These are some of the ideas I had for some local community input for meetups. I am going to post them here, in case they benefit anyone else and so I will have them for future reference :)
List parks ideas in the county and relevant info (like if there are parking fees or water play opportunities or ducks we can feed, if it is pet-friendly or not, etc.). Only requirements are that there are bathrooms closeby and grassy area for sitters and crawlers :)
Park Day Fun: I love what ideas a group can contribute, so I thought this could be a great place to compile those. Some I was thinking are:
potluck -- we can all just bring whatever foods we want to contribute and the kids can snack throughout the day or whatever works for each of us, but we can enjoy variety :)
chats -- we can have planned topics to discuss. I love building and destructing and restructing things with kindreds :)
book club -- we can pick a book per month to read and discuss
lending library -- we can post up books or movies or CDs or whatever that we are willing to share with each other
fun fairs -- opportunities to share something in a way we want with each other (open to suggestions of how to do this)
cleaning fairs -- after spring cleaning bring your extra wares to the park to sell, trade, barter, or give away
music days -- bring an ipod dock or CD player and jam our favorite tunes
playshop -- pursue and interest together as a group
More than just parkdays: I would love to connect on more than just a weekly park day. Maybe we can compile ideas of other events, etc. that a fellow groupmember may want to attend with someone here, or ideas of things we can do at a fellow community member's house (I have hosted weekly informal dance, where we pick some kind of dance style to learn for a day or whatever, and all-ages learn and dance and have fun; some have done game nights, movie nights, etc.). This is usually an ongoing list, so people can connect on current events :)
List parks ideas in the county and relevant info (like if there are parking fees or water play opportunities or ducks we can feed, if it is pet-friendly or not, etc.). Only requirements are that there are bathrooms closeby and grassy area for sitters and crawlers :)
Park Day Fun: I love what ideas a group can contribute, so I thought this could be a great place to compile those. Some I was thinking are:
potluck -- we can all just bring whatever foods we want to contribute and the kids can snack throughout the day or whatever works for each of us, but we can enjoy variety :)
chats -- we can have planned topics to discuss. I love building and destructing and restructing things with kindreds :)
book club -- we can pick a book per month to read and discuss
lending library -- we can post up books or movies or CDs or whatever that we are willing to share with each other
fun fairs -- opportunities to share something in a way we want with each other (open to suggestions of how to do this)
cleaning fairs -- after spring cleaning bring your extra wares to the park to sell, trade, barter, or give away
music days -- bring an ipod dock or CD player and jam our favorite tunes
playshop -- pursue and interest together as a group
More than just parkdays: I would love to connect on more than just a weekly park day. Maybe we can compile ideas of other events, etc. that a fellow groupmember may want to attend with someone here, or ideas of things we can do at a fellow community member's house (I have hosted weekly informal dance, where we pick some kind of dance style to learn for a day or whatever, and all-ages learn and dance and have fun; some have done game nights, movie nights, etc.). This is usually an ongoing list, so people can connect on current events :)
Self-Responsibility
This has been a big one for me recently, and I am so glad that I found my peace with it, my goal so to speak, so that I can focus on aligning the details with it.
I was raised well-intentionally to the extreme of sacrificing myself for other people's comfort. I have been self-conscious to the point of it being a kill-joy, and I have "parented" in ways that didn't feel right to me in order to suit someone else's desires, because I thought it was what I was "supposed" to do. It has been hard for me to unpack the "shoulds" in this context -- I had no other basis to see things from, and my own meters were unreliable since they were dysfunctional. Until I read this article by Michael Brown and watched this video on YouTube by Eckart Tolle called "What is my Responsibilty". They helped me find a clear distinction between MY understanding of my and another's responsibility (they attributed to this blog post and this one), and where the overlap lays for me now feels right for me and authentic from me.
What I have found is that the only responsibilty I have is to be true to me, to what feels right to me. So, when I am interacting with someone, I align with myself, dig my heels in real good, and stick with being me, from coming from my truth, that place inside of me that is unfolding more and more with practice and experience. It is slowly consuming me and getting easier to connect with and stick to. It helps me to interact with my children and others and myself in a way that feels so right to me, words can't describe :)
I was raised well-intentionally to the extreme of sacrificing myself for other people's comfort. I have been self-conscious to the point of it being a kill-joy, and I have "parented" in ways that didn't feel right to me in order to suit someone else's desires, because I thought it was what I was "supposed" to do. It has been hard for me to unpack the "shoulds" in this context -- I had no other basis to see things from, and my own meters were unreliable since they were dysfunctional. Until I read this article by Michael Brown and watched this video on YouTube by Eckart Tolle called "What is my Responsibilty". They helped me find a clear distinction between MY understanding of my and another's responsibility (they attributed to this blog post and this one), and where the overlap lays for me now feels right for me and authentic from me.
What I have found is that the only responsibilty I have is to be true to me, to what feels right to me. So, when I am interacting with someone, I align with myself, dig my heels in real good, and stick with being me, from coming from my truth, that place inside of me that is unfolding more and more with practice and experience. It is slowly consuming me and getting easier to connect with and stick to. It helps me to interact with my children and others and myself in a way that feels so right to me, words can't describe :)
Monday, May 17, 2010
Rubbings and Unschooling and Fun -- Oh, My!
So, I was reading the Big Red House blog (on my sidebar), and she mentioned tree rubbings -- oh the flood of inspiration that came over me!! So, Noble and I rushed out into the backyard, armed with crayons and plain paper :)) We started coloring on different textures, anything he or I wanted, even stuff I "knew" wouldn't leave a print (and sometimes it did! And it was all a great opportunity for Noble to learn -- and me, too, apparently!). Then we started putting stuff under our paper and coloring on it. The whole time, I was trying to remember how I was thinking we were "supposed" to do it (side of the crayon, sharp tip, etc.), and as I tried different ways, I learned lots of different techniques. Some surfaces were so pretty that I want to use these for backgrounds in my comic. No matter what I did, I learned, and it got me thinking so much about my world and materials to get creative with. Wow. So this is my end result for our short experiment in out tiny backyard :))
Then, I decided to rub on a half-finished project I am working on, which gave me the idea to make up a game where we do some rubbings around the house and trade them with each other to find what they rubbed (a rubbing scavenger hunt!!).
Doing some rubbings himself :)))
Then, I decided to rub on a half-finished project I am working on, which gave me the idea to make up a game where we do some rubbings around the house and trade them with each other to find what they rubbed (a rubbing scavenger hunt!!).
Doing some rubbings himself :)))
Am I Giving Them Enough? (article)
This is an amazing article -- read it on the blog to the side called "the big red house"
from Life Learning magazine, March/April 2008
Am I Giving Them Enough?
When Unschooling Feels Like Unparenting
by Theresa Shea
Normally, homeschoolers are sprinkled here and there throughout cities and, due to this spotty distribution, they have little effect on mainstream parenting. I have the rare good fortune to live in a neighborhood with seven other homeschooled families in it. Our local playground is filled with children of all ages during school hours. At the library, we often meet one another on sunny afternoons. Last winter, we organized a homeschooling hockey clinic on Wednesdays after lunch at our community league rink. When the sun was shining and our skates were carving up the ice, we couldn't help but feel sad that our children were the only ones out enjoying the beautiful weather.
We are the wild element, the bad example to schooled children! We represent an alternative lifestyle. When we get together en masse, we are a formidable crowd. We provide living proof that not all children have to spend five days a week shut away from the larger community. There are a lot of children in our neighborhood, but one by one the daytime access to these playmates dwindled as kindergarten and first grade claimed many of them. Because of our presence, however, it's not uncommon to hear schooled children ask their parents, "Why can't I be a homeschooler?"
The kind of freedom homeschooled children enjoy – no early bedtimes, sleeping in and no homework, to name just a few – must be perceived as a threat to mainstream parenting. I assume that the parents whose kids are in school tolerate us. Sometimes I'm convinced they avoid us. Probably they judge us. Alternatively, they might just feel sorry for us. They can't imagine spending the entire day with their children. So when their own kids inform them that not all children go to school, they likely have ample ammunition to justify the importance and necessity of doing curriculum and regular schooling. Every now and then, however, their real thoughts about homeschooling slip out. But that's okay because, as homeschoolers, many of us are engaged in the same comparison and judging of their children's schooled lives. At times we mingle warily, at times freely. Most importantly, to preserve relationships, we routinely keep our opinions to ourselves. After all, every one of us believes we are doing what's best for our children. No one way is perfect, and it does little good to create an "us against them" standoff, for even though the abundance of homeschoolers in my immediate vicinity suggests we're not a minority, I know that's not the case. The peers my children will have as adults will likely have been schooled. Some of them will have fared better than others. Regardless of who went to school and who didn't, they will be of the same generation and they will find common denominators in order to get along.
To my mind, parenting today is more challenging than ever before. Perhaps at no other time in history has so much focus and attention been spent on analyzing how children develop, how they don't develop and what we need to do to get them to develop. Sadly, today's children are diagnosed with all kinds of deficiencies and behavioral problems. Professional pathologists analyze the speech of kindergarten children. Reading tests are done at an increasingly younger level. Schools practice lock-downs as commonly as fire drills. One can almost feel the collective held breath of an entire community of schooled parents who desperately hope their child will not be the bullied one or the one singled out as a remedial student. Articles in magazines discuss the realities and pitfalls of competitive parenting. Somewhere along the line we have lost our bearings. Rampant individualism is replacing cooperative communities as more and more folks operate not collectively but as individual family units (and even within these units, there is often a shocking lack of interaction).
The homeschooling community, because we routinely seek each other out for social activities, may be more cooperative out of necessity. However, even though I'm not drawn into discussions about what school is better, what teacher I wish my kids had or who is getting better marks, I am not immune to the anxieties and pitfalls that stem from contemporary parenting. Perhaps this says more about me and my own insecurities than it does about homeschooling, which is an arena that challenges me in positive ways because I can't blame the "teachers" if my kids don't appear to be learning anything.
I wasn't the mother who always knew she'd homeschool her children. Luckily for me, I had friends and neighbors who were already on the "beam," so to speak, and who answered my many questions. One friend said, "I didn't want someone else to have my children for the best hours of the day." The coin dropped when I realized I didn't want that either.
For the most part I am the happy life learning mother of three children aged nine, seven and five, and I'm immensely grateful for the freedom and flexibility my family enjoys. Not doing school-at-home or following any set curriculum enables us to set our own schedule, make spontaneous plans, lie low and read all day or pursue any old adventure that comes our way. My children have never gone to school and, aside from asking once to go to a daycare that had enticing toys and a playground barred to them by a chain link fence, they have never voiced a desire to attend school.
Yet I must admit that there are days when I question my pedagogical beliefs within the homeschool community and wonder if I'm giving my children enough. I'm not very "crafty," you see, and, aside from music lessons, I avoid putting my children into activities that have pre-set learning outcomes. However, parenting is not something done in isolation and I'm always rubbing shoulders with parents whose children, schooled or homeschooled, are engaged in highly "productive" activities. Sometimes I wish I had a Teflon shield ("force field UP!") that I could deploy to ward off well-intentioned bits of advice or to redirect the stressed vibes that emanate from highly-ambitious parents who seem to believe they know exactly what's best for their children. On a good day I can easily protect my chosen family existence and defend it if need be. However, on a bad day (like when the children are fighting incessantly, the house is beyond chaotic or my patience is at an all time low) I find myself falling victim to the belief that other people are doing far more interesting things with their children than I am. While I'm trying to lock myself in the bathroom for a moment's peace, these families are likely working on science projects, engaging in clay and woodworking instruction, taking sewing lessons or painting murals in their bedrooms.
By contrast, my days with my children are largely unstructured and unambitious. My kids usually sleep in. Sometimes we start the day by reading. Sometimes they go their own way and listen to book tapes, play dollhouse, work on their LEGO base or play hockey in the hall. At some point in the day they ask when we can all go to a café (yes, my need for an afternoon coffee has resulted in having three café kids). I love the mornings that start slow and begin without any rushing whatsoever.
So why, then, if I'm mostly content with my day-to-day life, do I have the tendency to compare my unschooling regime with that of others? Where does this underlying kernel of dissatisfaction or doubt come from? I guess I'm not immune to the cult of competitive parenting that has contemporary families engaged in far too many activities. Yet I consciously try to resist the mainstream map (or trap) that has parents running hither and yon, continually linked to a cell phone. No, I think my impulse to compare stems from having a guilty conscience. By not having my children in school, I feel like I'm getting away with something big, that my family and I have somehow managed to slip between the cracks of the overly-scheduled world out there, and we are all laughing. It can't last, can it? The shoe's going to drop, isn't it?
But here's the glitch: I also have a guilty conscience because I enjoy leaving my children alone and waiting for them to initiate activities. In fact, what unnerves me is that I think I do my best parenting when my children entertain themselves. Abandoning the need to teach my kids specific subjects can, at times, make me feel negligent. Shouldn't I be taking a more hands-on approach to their learning? Shouldn't I be introducing them to numerous new things each week to ensure that I don't miss any outstanding abilities they might have? Deep down, am I really a true believer in the unstructured life we lead as life learners or am I simply lazy? Isn't unschooling, in a way, simply a gussied up form of unparenting? Sure, I cook with my children when they ask, and yeah, I chase the puck on the rinks with my boys and, okay, I can load stitches on a knitting needle for my daughter. But I'm also really happy when they do their own thing. In fact, I'm mostly operating on the belief that it's not my job to initiate great projects for my children. I like to believe that giving them their freedom is the best thing I can do for them. On good days, I don't feel guilty at all about letting them find ways to amuse themselves but on a bad day I think: Shouldn't a real homeschooler be more engaged with her children? Shouldn't she have some kind of a "plan?"
I usually suffer this educational crisis when I visit the home of a parent leading a more structured homeschooling life. As we all know, there is a wide range of pedagogical beliefs in the homeschooling community and there's also no shortage of things to get involved in. The daily choices can, in fact, be overwhelming. By trying to keep life simple, I'm hoping to slow down a little and create some kind of sustainable desire in day-to-day living. So what if my kids spend their days listening to book tapes and building Lego bases or drawing? So what if they play hair salon or pretend they're in a spaceship? Does it really matter if my eldest son can name all 30 NHL teams off the top of his head but has trouble remembering the ten provinces and three territories? (If only more expansion teams would come to Canada!) Am I failing him? Or will he figure it out on his own one day?
It's important for me to remember that, to paraphrase the writer Allison McKee, not only am I unschooling my children but I'm also unschooling myself. The latter is the greater challenge of the two because when I succumb to doubts about the path I've taken I know it stems from my own schooled childhood. I received the gold stars. I won the spelling bees. My learning was structured so that I'd always be told when it was time to do a history project or to hand in a book report. Did I love school? No. I just happened to be smart enough to get by without much effort. From a parenting perspective, however, I look back on my own childhood with mild regret. If I hadn't gone to school, what might I have done instead?
A woman I know once told me her son had been a late talker. "If he didn't talk to me, I didn't talk to him," she laughed. Yet he learned how to speak. I believe the same thing will be true of my children. If I don't lead or prompt them, they will naturally end up leading me and leading themselves. Aside from asking them to play music on a daily basis, I'm as hands-off as I can be, yet I'm always around for guidance and assistance should my children ask for it. That's the key thing – to have them ask. I try not to pose the questions for them and I also try not to test them by asking them questions to which I already know the answers (no easy task, that one!).
When my youngest son, Levi, first began to write his name, he spelled it I-V-E-L. I was amazed! He was learning his own letters! I didn't need to point out he'd written his name backwards. I knew he'd figure it out on his own at some point, and he did. However, to some people, the fact that I didn't "correct" his writing ("No, Levi, you've written your name backwards; it's L-E-V-I!") would be seen as an act of unparenting. For isn't it my job or duty to correct him? Yes, if he came right out and asked, "Is this right?" But he never asked.
I remain convinced that many of my neighbors and acquaintances also believe my unschooling methods are a nifty way of unparenting. My children, for instance, are often the only unparented ones playing outside. Over the years my husband and I have taught them road safety and we certainly did our time on the sidewalk when they were really small. Now we trust that all will be well. If it's not, we expect one of the kids will come and find us. But to the other parents on the block, our parenting likely looks negligent. Little do they know how much time our children spend playing together while theirs are in school. Even I must admit, however, that when my kids were outside in the dark one night at 11:15 enjoying a game of glow-in-the-dark wand tag I suddenly realized that my unschooling lifestyle could probably land me in trouble with social services or child welfare. Shouldn't they be in bed by that time or, at the very least, inside?
Every now and then another parent will say something that gives me an insight into what they really think of homeschooling. A friend of mine whose children go to school recently told me about the new piano teacher she had found. For awhile, I was contemplating changing my daughter's instructor so I asked a few questions. She replied that the teacher was pleased that her daughter went to school because she liked kids who had discipline in their lives. "I'm not sure," she went on, "what she'd make of a homeschooler." Of course she didn't mean anything by it, but the comment revealed her belief that homeschoolers have no discipline in their lives. What I wanted to ask, but didn't, was how she thought a child learned "discipline" by being dropped off at school in the morning and having all her time structured for her until being released at 3:22? Of course, my friend's brand of discipline is the popular one: It means learning to do what you're told. I would prefer to see discipline defined as the ability to structure one's time or, better yet, as the ability to handle freedom.
Most people believe that sending their children to school is easier than keeping them home, the theory being that daily separations help to replenish the supply of patience. But it doesn't work that way. Parenting has its own "zone." If you've ever gone away for a day or two without your children, you'll know what I mean. I return home thinking I'll be a deep well of patience but it takes me some time to get used to everybody talking at me simultaneously. My husband, meanwhile, having been on his own, is in the "zone." One doesn't step in and out of parenting seamlessly. Surprisingly, I have discovered that the more time I spend with my children, the easier it is to be with them. School creates a whole host of problems that parents are willing to accept in order to procure their own "freedom." My siblings and I spent our childhoods going to school. For ten months of the year we were separated five days a week, for the majority of the day. When we returned home, we watched television or played with friends, then we had more "school" to do in the form of homework. The parenting we received was transitional – we were transitioned to school, transitioned from school, then readied again for school. Much of our out-of- school time was spent preparing for school. I'm telling you this to illustrate that unschooling my children is not a natural thing for me.
It takes time to rid ourselves of the need to accomplish things educationally with our children. How well I related to Allison McKee's anecdote in Unschooling Our Children, Unschooling Ourselves (Life Learning, May/June 2006) when she admitted to taking over her son's pond project by suggesting ways he could better chart the changes. Only later did she discover that by applying so many structures she completely deflated her son's sense of wonder and fascination with the initial idea. But staying out of the way or minding my own business does not come naturally. Hence the occasional doubt about unschooling and the inevitable fall that follows into believing that it's really a way of sanctioning unparenting.
The good news is that every time I go through a period of questioning my pedagogical beliefs I come out the other side with a renewed conviction that life learning is exactly what my family needs and benefits from. It's the "schooled" voice in my head that wants me to believe my children aren't truly learning anything but, when I stop to question that belief, I see an abundance of proof that suggests the contrary.
My eldest son Dashiell, for example, learned how to read on his own when he was eight. He didn't have to suffer through phonics or undergo any alphabet drills. Again, it was his interest in hockey that got him going. He wanted to be able to read the sports page on his own. That same interest in sports has furthered his math and geography skills. Why not get the world map out when watching the World Cup of Soccer to see how far some of the teams traveled? My daughter Sadie, at seven, is going through the same preliminary reading process that her older brother did. Every day she asks me how to spell certain words as she writes her "books" and when we go on outings she often asks me to tell her what signs and advertisements say. Sadly, she too will be reading soon. I say sadly because, once children learn how to read, there is no going back to that time of innocence when they are immune to print culture, to reading everything from store and brand names to some of the smuttier graffiti around town. I hope my daughter takes her time learning to read and I hope my youngest also doesn't break any early literacy records. I routinely wince when I hear parents of schooled children complaining about the difficulty of getting their six- and seven-year-olds to read. I wish I had the courage to tell them all just to leave their children alone. What's the big rush? Children have an entire lifetime to be literate. Their pre-literate life is so short.
In the long run, asking the "big" pedagogical questions is not a bad thing. In fact, it ultimately strengthens and confirms my more intuitive convictions about unschooling. I want to give my children a childhood that's not entirely governed by the clock. I want them to have time to develop their imaginative worlds. I want them to know that freedom from the daily grind is not something that necessarily stops once you become an adult. And I want them to understand that a life in which one simply grins and bears it, because everyone else is doing the same thing, is not a life they need to lead. I know that, to many parents who are leading a more mainstream life, my unschooling looks suspiciously like unparenting. But if "unparenting" to them means having no set bedtime, no "discipline" and no real structured learning, so be it.
I know I've found the right thing for my family. And I still feel like we're getting away with something big.
Theresa Shea is the mother of three unschooled children. Her poetry and non-fiction have appeared in several magazines and anthologies in Canada. She has just begun to seek a publisher for her first novel, The Quickening, which deals with the complex moral issues surrounding contemporary conception and birth technologies. An amateur violinist, Theresa spends much of her time trying to get her children to do their music practice. Any free time she has generally involves drinking americanos in cafés, reading the latest in contemporary fiction and non-fiction or homeschooling her new golden retriever puppy. She lives in Edmonton, Alberta.
from Life Learning magazine, March/April 2008
Am I Giving Them Enough?
When Unschooling Feels Like Unparenting
by Theresa Shea
Normally, homeschoolers are sprinkled here and there throughout cities and, due to this spotty distribution, they have little effect on mainstream parenting. I have the rare good fortune to live in a neighborhood with seven other homeschooled families in it. Our local playground is filled with children of all ages during school hours. At the library, we often meet one another on sunny afternoons. Last winter, we organized a homeschooling hockey clinic on Wednesdays after lunch at our community league rink. When the sun was shining and our skates were carving up the ice, we couldn't help but feel sad that our children were the only ones out enjoying the beautiful weather.
We are the wild element, the bad example to schooled children! We represent an alternative lifestyle. When we get together en masse, we are a formidable crowd. We provide living proof that not all children have to spend five days a week shut away from the larger community. There are a lot of children in our neighborhood, but one by one the daytime access to these playmates dwindled as kindergarten and first grade claimed many of them. Because of our presence, however, it's not uncommon to hear schooled children ask their parents, "Why can't I be a homeschooler?"
The kind of freedom homeschooled children enjoy – no early bedtimes, sleeping in and no homework, to name just a few – must be perceived as a threat to mainstream parenting. I assume that the parents whose kids are in school tolerate us. Sometimes I'm convinced they avoid us. Probably they judge us. Alternatively, they might just feel sorry for us. They can't imagine spending the entire day with their children. So when their own kids inform them that not all children go to school, they likely have ample ammunition to justify the importance and necessity of doing curriculum and regular schooling. Every now and then, however, their real thoughts about homeschooling slip out. But that's okay because, as homeschoolers, many of us are engaged in the same comparison and judging of their children's schooled lives. At times we mingle warily, at times freely. Most importantly, to preserve relationships, we routinely keep our opinions to ourselves. After all, every one of us believes we are doing what's best for our children. No one way is perfect, and it does little good to create an "us against them" standoff, for even though the abundance of homeschoolers in my immediate vicinity suggests we're not a minority, I know that's not the case. The peers my children will have as adults will likely have been schooled. Some of them will have fared better than others. Regardless of who went to school and who didn't, they will be of the same generation and they will find common denominators in order to get along.
To my mind, parenting today is more challenging than ever before. Perhaps at no other time in history has so much focus and attention been spent on analyzing how children develop, how they don't develop and what we need to do to get them to develop. Sadly, today's children are diagnosed with all kinds of deficiencies and behavioral problems. Professional pathologists analyze the speech of kindergarten children. Reading tests are done at an increasingly younger level. Schools practice lock-downs as commonly as fire drills. One can almost feel the collective held breath of an entire community of schooled parents who desperately hope their child will not be the bullied one or the one singled out as a remedial student. Articles in magazines discuss the realities and pitfalls of competitive parenting. Somewhere along the line we have lost our bearings. Rampant individualism is replacing cooperative communities as more and more folks operate not collectively but as individual family units (and even within these units, there is often a shocking lack of interaction).
The homeschooling community, because we routinely seek each other out for social activities, may be more cooperative out of necessity. However, even though I'm not drawn into discussions about what school is better, what teacher I wish my kids had or who is getting better marks, I am not immune to the anxieties and pitfalls that stem from contemporary parenting. Perhaps this says more about me and my own insecurities than it does about homeschooling, which is an arena that challenges me in positive ways because I can't blame the "teachers" if my kids don't appear to be learning anything.
I wasn't the mother who always knew she'd homeschool her children. Luckily for me, I had friends and neighbors who were already on the "beam," so to speak, and who answered my many questions. One friend said, "I didn't want someone else to have my children for the best hours of the day." The coin dropped when I realized I didn't want that either.
For the most part I am the happy life learning mother of three children aged nine, seven and five, and I'm immensely grateful for the freedom and flexibility my family enjoys. Not doing school-at-home or following any set curriculum enables us to set our own schedule, make spontaneous plans, lie low and read all day or pursue any old adventure that comes our way. My children have never gone to school and, aside from asking once to go to a daycare that had enticing toys and a playground barred to them by a chain link fence, they have never voiced a desire to attend school.
Yet I must admit that there are days when I question my pedagogical beliefs within the homeschool community and wonder if I'm giving my children enough. I'm not very "crafty," you see, and, aside from music lessons, I avoid putting my children into activities that have pre-set learning outcomes. However, parenting is not something done in isolation and I'm always rubbing shoulders with parents whose children, schooled or homeschooled, are engaged in highly "productive" activities. Sometimes I wish I had a Teflon shield ("force field UP!") that I could deploy to ward off well-intentioned bits of advice or to redirect the stressed vibes that emanate from highly-ambitious parents who seem to believe they know exactly what's best for their children. On a good day I can easily protect my chosen family existence and defend it if need be. However, on a bad day (like when the children are fighting incessantly, the house is beyond chaotic or my patience is at an all time low) I find myself falling victim to the belief that other people are doing far more interesting things with their children than I am. While I'm trying to lock myself in the bathroom for a moment's peace, these families are likely working on science projects, engaging in clay and woodworking instruction, taking sewing lessons or painting murals in their bedrooms.
By contrast, my days with my children are largely unstructured and unambitious. My kids usually sleep in. Sometimes we start the day by reading. Sometimes they go their own way and listen to book tapes, play dollhouse, work on their LEGO base or play hockey in the hall. At some point in the day they ask when we can all go to a café (yes, my need for an afternoon coffee has resulted in having three café kids). I love the mornings that start slow and begin without any rushing whatsoever.
So why, then, if I'm mostly content with my day-to-day life, do I have the tendency to compare my unschooling regime with that of others? Where does this underlying kernel of dissatisfaction or doubt come from? I guess I'm not immune to the cult of competitive parenting that has contemporary families engaged in far too many activities. Yet I consciously try to resist the mainstream map (or trap) that has parents running hither and yon, continually linked to a cell phone. No, I think my impulse to compare stems from having a guilty conscience. By not having my children in school, I feel like I'm getting away with something big, that my family and I have somehow managed to slip between the cracks of the overly-scheduled world out there, and we are all laughing. It can't last, can it? The shoe's going to drop, isn't it?
But here's the glitch: I also have a guilty conscience because I enjoy leaving my children alone and waiting for them to initiate activities. In fact, what unnerves me is that I think I do my best parenting when my children entertain themselves. Abandoning the need to teach my kids specific subjects can, at times, make me feel negligent. Shouldn't I be taking a more hands-on approach to their learning? Shouldn't I be introducing them to numerous new things each week to ensure that I don't miss any outstanding abilities they might have? Deep down, am I really a true believer in the unstructured life we lead as life learners or am I simply lazy? Isn't unschooling, in a way, simply a gussied up form of unparenting? Sure, I cook with my children when they ask, and yeah, I chase the puck on the rinks with my boys and, okay, I can load stitches on a knitting needle for my daughter. But I'm also really happy when they do their own thing. In fact, I'm mostly operating on the belief that it's not my job to initiate great projects for my children. I like to believe that giving them their freedom is the best thing I can do for them. On good days, I don't feel guilty at all about letting them find ways to amuse themselves but on a bad day I think: Shouldn't a real homeschooler be more engaged with her children? Shouldn't she have some kind of a "plan?"
I usually suffer this educational crisis when I visit the home of a parent leading a more structured homeschooling life. As we all know, there is a wide range of pedagogical beliefs in the homeschooling community and there's also no shortage of things to get involved in. The daily choices can, in fact, be overwhelming. By trying to keep life simple, I'm hoping to slow down a little and create some kind of sustainable desire in day-to-day living. So what if my kids spend their days listening to book tapes and building Lego bases or drawing? So what if they play hair salon or pretend they're in a spaceship? Does it really matter if my eldest son can name all 30 NHL teams off the top of his head but has trouble remembering the ten provinces and three territories? (If only more expansion teams would come to Canada!) Am I failing him? Or will he figure it out on his own one day?
It's important for me to remember that, to paraphrase the writer Allison McKee, not only am I unschooling my children but I'm also unschooling myself. The latter is the greater challenge of the two because when I succumb to doubts about the path I've taken I know it stems from my own schooled childhood. I received the gold stars. I won the spelling bees. My learning was structured so that I'd always be told when it was time to do a history project or to hand in a book report. Did I love school? No. I just happened to be smart enough to get by without much effort. From a parenting perspective, however, I look back on my own childhood with mild regret. If I hadn't gone to school, what might I have done instead?
A woman I know once told me her son had been a late talker. "If he didn't talk to me, I didn't talk to him," she laughed. Yet he learned how to speak. I believe the same thing will be true of my children. If I don't lead or prompt them, they will naturally end up leading me and leading themselves. Aside from asking them to play music on a daily basis, I'm as hands-off as I can be, yet I'm always around for guidance and assistance should my children ask for it. That's the key thing – to have them ask. I try not to pose the questions for them and I also try not to test them by asking them questions to which I already know the answers (no easy task, that one!).
When my youngest son, Levi, first began to write his name, he spelled it I-V-E-L. I was amazed! He was learning his own letters! I didn't need to point out he'd written his name backwards. I knew he'd figure it out on his own at some point, and he did. However, to some people, the fact that I didn't "correct" his writing ("No, Levi, you've written your name backwards; it's L-E-V-I!") would be seen as an act of unparenting. For isn't it my job or duty to correct him? Yes, if he came right out and asked, "Is this right?" But he never asked.
I remain convinced that many of my neighbors and acquaintances also believe my unschooling methods are a nifty way of unparenting. My children, for instance, are often the only unparented ones playing outside. Over the years my husband and I have taught them road safety and we certainly did our time on the sidewalk when they were really small. Now we trust that all will be well. If it's not, we expect one of the kids will come and find us. But to the other parents on the block, our parenting likely looks negligent. Little do they know how much time our children spend playing together while theirs are in school. Even I must admit, however, that when my kids were outside in the dark one night at 11:15 enjoying a game of glow-in-the-dark wand tag I suddenly realized that my unschooling lifestyle could probably land me in trouble with social services or child welfare. Shouldn't they be in bed by that time or, at the very least, inside?
Every now and then another parent will say something that gives me an insight into what they really think of homeschooling. A friend of mine whose children go to school recently told me about the new piano teacher she had found. For awhile, I was contemplating changing my daughter's instructor so I asked a few questions. She replied that the teacher was pleased that her daughter went to school because she liked kids who had discipline in their lives. "I'm not sure," she went on, "what she'd make of a homeschooler." Of course she didn't mean anything by it, but the comment revealed her belief that homeschoolers have no discipline in their lives. What I wanted to ask, but didn't, was how she thought a child learned "discipline" by being dropped off at school in the morning and having all her time structured for her until being released at 3:22? Of course, my friend's brand of discipline is the popular one: It means learning to do what you're told. I would prefer to see discipline defined as the ability to structure one's time or, better yet, as the ability to handle freedom.
Most people believe that sending their children to school is easier than keeping them home, the theory being that daily separations help to replenish the supply of patience. But it doesn't work that way. Parenting has its own "zone." If you've ever gone away for a day or two without your children, you'll know what I mean. I return home thinking I'll be a deep well of patience but it takes me some time to get used to everybody talking at me simultaneously. My husband, meanwhile, having been on his own, is in the "zone." One doesn't step in and out of parenting seamlessly. Surprisingly, I have discovered that the more time I spend with my children, the easier it is to be with them. School creates a whole host of problems that parents are willing to accept in order to procure their own "freedom." My siblings and I spent our childhoods going to school. For ten months of the year we were separated five days a week, for the majority of the day. When we returned home, we watched television or played with friends, then we had more "school" to do in the form of homework. The parenting we received was transitional – we were transitioned to school, transitioned from school, then readied again for school. Much of our out-of- school time was spent preparing for school. I'm telling you this to illustrate that unschooling my children is not a natural thing for me.
It takes time to rid ourselves of the need to accomplish things educationally with our children. How well I related to Allison McKee's anecdote in Unschooling Our Children, Unschooling Ourselves (Life Learning, May/June 2006) when she admitted to taking over her son's pond project by suggesting ways he could better chart the changes. Only later did she discover that by applying so many structures she completely deflated her son's sense of wonder and fascination with the initial idea. But staying out of the way or minding my own business does not come naturally. Hence the occasional doubt about unschooling and the inevitable fall that follows into believing that it's really a way of sanctioning unparenting.
The good news is that every time I go through a period of questioning my pedagogical beliefs I come out the other side with a renewed conviction that life learning is exactly what my family needs and benefits from. It's the "schooled" voice in my head that wants me to believe my children aren't truly learning anything but, when I stop to question that belief, I see an abundance of proof that suggests the contrary.
My eldest son Dashiell, for example, learned how to read on his own when he was eight. He didn't have to suffer through phonics or undergo any alphabet drills. Again, it was his interest in hockey that got him going. He wanted to be able to read the sports page on his own. That same interest in sports has furthered his math and geography skills. Why not get the world map out when watching the World Cup of Soccer to see how far some of the teams traveled? My daughter Sadie, at seven, is going through the same preliminary reading process that her older brother did. Every day she asks me how to spell certain words as she writes her "books" and when we go on outings she often asks me to tell her what signs and advertisements say. Sadly, she too will be reading soon. I say sadly because, once children learn how to read, there is no going back to that time of innocence when they are immune to print culture, to reading everything from store and brand names to some of the smuttier graffiti around town. I hope my daughter takes her time learning to read and I hope my youngest also doesn't break any early literacy records. I routinely wince when I hear parents of schooled children complaining about the difficulty of getting their six- and seven-year-olds to read. I wish I had the courage to tell them all just to leave their children alone. What's the big rush? Children have an entire lifetime to be literate. Their pre-literate life is so short.
In the long run, asking the "big" pedagogical questions is not a bad thing. In fact, it ultimately strengthens and confirms my more intuitive convictions about unschooling. I want to give my children a childhood that's not entirely governed by the clock. I want them to have time to develop their imaginative worlds. I want them to know that freedom from the daily grind is not something that necessarily stops once you become an adult. And I want them to understand that a life in which one simply grins and bears it, because everyone else is doing the same thing, is not a life they need to lead. I know that, to many parents who are leading a more mainstream life, my unschooling looks suspiciously like unparenting. But if "unparenting" to them means having no set bedtime, no "discipline" and no real structured learning, so be it.
I know I've found the right thing for my family. And I still feel like we're getting away with something big.
Theresa Shea is the mother of three unschooled children. Her poetry and non-fiction have appeared in several magazines and anthologies in Canada. She has just begun to seek a publisher for her first novel, The Quickening, which deals with the complex moral issues surrounding contemporary conception and birth technologies. An amateur violinist, Theresa spends much of her time trying to get her children to do their music practice. Any free time she has generally involves drinking americanos in cafés, reading the latest in contemporary fiction and non-fiction or homeschooling her new golden retriever puppy. She lives in Edmonton, Alberta.
Wild Learning
Read this on one of the blogs off to the side of here. It is a quote by Joyce Fetteroll. If you stuck it in google, I bet you could find it's source (since I am on my iPhone and it is difficult for me to do that part :)
Unfortunately we learned in school that learning is locked up in books and reading is the only way to get to it. It's not. It's free. We're surrounded by it. We just need to relearn how to recognize it in its wild state.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
"Flowers"
Kassidy and I have a code word that means "I'm not mad at you. I'm just processing anger and disappointment." Amazing how quickly our shifts are when one of us tosses out the code word. Last night I was tired and forgot to use it, and what a big jumble of unecessary hurt feelings and over-explaining followed. I am grateful for this code word.
The truth is, it's all flowers. There isn't a single thing that I deal with or have an issue with that is about anyone but myself. The way I know this is because everyone handles everything differently -- we all have different triggers. Every experience I have is really just a reflection of something in me that wants addressing. That is why somethings get me and some don't, and why sometimes things will get me and other times they don't. It's all in me. It's not about the other person, and I don't want to depend on anyone else to meet my needs, because I am the only one who can really do that. I need to process more from my past and release more stored up feelings. No one else can do this for me. It's all flowers...
The truth is, it's all flowers. There isn't a single thing that I deal with or have an issue with that is about anyone but myself. The way I know this is because everyone handles everything differently -- we all have different triggers. Every experience I have is really just a reflection of something in me that wants addressing. That is why somethings get me and some don't, and why sometimes things will get me and other times they don't. It's all in me. It's not about the other person, and I don't want to depend on anyone else to meet my needs, because I am the only one who can really do that. I need to process more from my past and release more stored up feelings. No one else can do this for me. It's all flowers...
Aligning
This is a word that has been really salient in my life recently. As I am digging deep and finding my values and preferences and inner self, I am striving to align my exterior with my interior. I am trying to align my life with my values. I am trying to align the beauty in my home with the beauty in my inner style. I am trying to align my interactions with my children with my love and hope for them. When I fall short, I appologize for that experience of my actions not aligning with my ideals. Before I interact with someone, especially in a challenging situation, I want to align myself with my inner self and dig my heels in good before I'm ready to come from me. When there is a conflict or concern in my life, I can align very clearly with my intentions and watch them become a reality. When I dream and hope for the future, I can align myself and create it in reality. I am very excited about finding this place inside of me that is my favorite and then viewing the world through those windows. This self and life designin' thing rocks!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
"Hyper"
My oldest has a lot of energy. Her biofather did (was diagnosed ADHD, actually) and so did I, I have been told. In fact, my well-intentioned stepmom would make me sit when she wanted me to calm down and I guess I would shake my hands like crazy to channel some of that energy. I know my oldest's biofather was put on ridalin at a young age and swore off any medication as an adult -- in fact, he was adament against drugs of any sort and rarely drank any alcohol. He didn't like the feeling of his body being out of sorts. He learned to channel his energy into his favorite activities (he was always very outdoorsy). Funny, I am overweight and extremely low on energy as an adult and for as long as I can remember now -- I wish my energy had been channeled instead of repressed :)
I haven't used the word hyper to describe my daughter in many years, and I'm trying to recall the things that impacted my perspective and therefore my language. I guess it started with the breaking down of my understanding of ADHD. I believe that it is very much over diagnosed and mistreated, and I really only feel responsible about it's role (or lack of) in my and my children's life. I have read some amazing books that ended up having some perspectives on ADHD, like Last Child in the Woods, by Richard Louv. But even before that, I questioned it. If my daughter had been a boy, she would have been diagnosed with it (or they would have tried), but because I refused to test her (my mom wanted me to), I got to experience her development with it, and I know it was completely normal. She has a lot of energy and that was it. In other cultures, in a life tailored to her needs, she could have done some amazing things -- imagine her hunting animals or running messages from one village to another. She would have been prized and valued, but because we expect children to sit in a classroom and do busywork, this is unacceptable, literally. How much of this energy is a normal part of childhood? Will we ever know, because our children's lives are so far from "normal" (using this word to describe the way we expect children to be cookie-cutter versions of each other fitting nicely on a bell-curve and in a desk at such a young age)?
My son was born so different it astounds me. Different dad, same mom (biologically -- obviously I have changed since Kass was his age). He was slow to warm from day 1. Not an abundance of energy. More what people would call "normal". He made life very easy when I was at the end of my pregnancy last summer during that month-long heat wave with no a/c. He just sat in one part of the room, perfectly content to play with his animals or his guys and watch movies, sometimes wanting me to play, too. I was able to research and socially connect via Internet, with 2 fans pointed at me, spraying myself with cold water to keep from overheating. More often than not we went to the pool after 2 when the sun wouldn't fry my poor Scottish skin off my body :)) My oldest was out playing with her friends. She NEVER could have stuck that out indoors. She was an outdoor child from day 1, and sometimes it was a challenge for this overweight underenergized mama. I managed well enough, but no way could I keep up with her now, so thank goodness she is old enough to trapse through parks with friends and not needing me to tag along anymore :)) OH, we got creative to help her use up her energy!! My mom and I would go to the beach and let her run as far as she could go then run back to us, as we walked, and repeat it over and over :) It was fun :))
So, back to my son. He has a new baby sister, and I see him, in thelast week or so, exhibiting some "hyper" type behaviors when he is feeling the need for attention. Interesting... Makes me think back on my own childhood. My "hyperness" started around age 6, if I remember correctly, when I got younger siblings. Then, for the past 2 days, my son has been consuming Spiderman and Hulk popsicles like they are going out of style, and they make him very excited and have lots of energy, and he runs and jumps and is insatiably happy and can't be asked to slow down or do it away from the baby, and he leaps into my arms and the old me wants to snap at him for possibly hurting us but I look into his face and see the glee, the joy, the enjoyment, and I know that this is what he wants and it makes him feel good and he wants his fill of energy and fun and laughs and play. And I am overflowing with love and happiness for him. And I remember the glee my daughter felt running circles in this library entryway one time, how she seemed to perpetuate her own energy, and I drown out the faces and opinions of the people around, the people with such differing opinions of what children "should" be like and what the purpose of childhood is and who the world should be accomodating. All I see is glee and joyful abandon, and how could I devalue it by calling it "hyper" with all it's negative connotations? That is sooooooo not what it is. It is pure, unadulterated energy flavored with glee :))
I haven't used the word hyper to describe my daughter in many years, and I'm trying to recall the things that impacted my perspective and therefore my language. I guess it started with the breaking down of my understanding of ADHD. I believe that it is very much over diagnosed and mistreated, and I really only feel responsible about it's role (or lack of) in my and my children's life. I have read some amazing books that ended up having some perspectives on ADHD, like Last Child in the Woods, by Richard Louv. But even before that, I questioned it. If my daughter had been a boy, she would have been diagnosed with it (or they would have tried), but because I refused to test her (my mom wanted me to), I got to experience her development with it, and I know it was completely normal. She has a lot of energy and that was it. In other cultures, in a life tailored to her needs, she could have done some amazing things -- imagine her hunting animals or running messages from one village to another. She would have been prized and valued, but because we expect children to sit in a classroom and do busywork, this is unacceptable, literally. How much of this energy is a normal part of childhood? Will we ever know, because our children's lives are so far from "normal" (using this word to describe the way we expect children to be cookie-cutter versions of each other fitting nicely on a bell-curve and in a desk at such a young age)?
My son was born so different it astounds me. Different dad, same mom (biologically -- obviously I have changed since Kass was his age). He was slow to warm from day 1. Not an abundance of energy. More what people would call "normal". He made life very easy when I was at the end of my pregnancy last summer during that month-long heat wave with no a/c. He just sat in one part of the room, perfectly content to play with his animals or his guys and watch movies, sometimes wanting me to play, too. I was able to research and socially connect via Internet, with 2 fans pointed at me, spraying myself with cold water to keep from overheating. More often than not we went to the pool after 2 when the sun wouldn't fry my poor Scottish skin off my body :)) My oldest was out playing with her friends. She NEVER could have stuck that out indoors. She was an outdoor child from day 1, and sometimes it was a challenge for this overweight underenergized mama. I managed well enough, but no way could I keep up with her now, so thank goodness she is old enough to trapse through parks with friends and not needing me to tag along anymore :)) OH, we got creative to help her use up her energy!! My mom and I would go to the beach and let her run as far as she could go then run back to us, as we walked, and repeat it over and over :) It was fun :))
So, back to my son. He has a new baby sister, and I see him, in thelast week or so, exhibiting some "hyper" type behaviors when he is feeling the need for attention. Interesting... Makes me think back on my own childhood. My "hyperness" started around age 6, if I remember correctly, when I got younger siblings. Then, for the past 2 days, my son has been consuming Spiderman and Hulk popsicles like they are going out of style, and they make him very excited and have lots of energy, and he runs and jumps and is insatiably happy and can't be asked to slow down or do it away from the baby, and he leaps into my arms and the old me wants to snap at him for possibly hurting us but I look into his face and see the glee, the joy, the enjoyment, and I know that this is what he wants and it makes him feel good and he wants his fill of energy and fun and laughs and play. And I am overflowing with love and happiness for him. And I remember the glee my daughter felt running circles in this library entryway one time, how she seemed to perpetuate her own energy, and I drown out the faces and opinions of the people around, the people with such differing opinions of what children "should" be like and what the purpose of childhood is and who the world should be accomodating. All I see is glee and joyful abandon, and how could I devalue it by calling it "hyper" with all it's negative connotations? That is sooooooo not what it is. It is pure, unadulterated energy flavored with glee :))
Monday, May 10, 2010
Situating
I have always been a collector of quotes and enlightenment, and I really love how this next quote talks about integrating these into MY life:
All truly wise thoughts have been thought already thousands of times, but to make them truly ours, we must think them over again honestly, 'til they take root in our personal experience.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
All truly wise thoughts have been thought already thousands of times, but to make them truly ours, we must think them over again honestly, 'til they take root in our personal experience.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
A letter
I just types this to my sister and loved it so much I wanted to share it here. I just love how nicely stuff flows at times :)) I think it was so easy partially because my sissy is so easy to share with :)) Here it is:
I loved loved LOVED seeing you yesterday!!!!!!!! It filled my heart with love and joy! Thank you for coming down here to see us :))
I wanted to reach out and explain a few things so that you can maybe understand and feel better about a couple things I noticed yesterday. I know it isn't common in our culture to interact or raise kids the way that I do because this culture very much values safety and doing things a certain way because it is "right". I also think that we instinctively think things and feel things because our parents did them with us and so we have internalized them as the "right" way, or are just more comfortable when things are done a certain way because of that. I have noticed that the areas where my well-intentioned mom was very controlling of me are the areas that are hardest for me to let go of control in, and that different parents have different problems with different things. So, through researching learning so much, I really value kids experimenting and learning for themselves and exploring. Some amazing things happen when kids do these things, and I will save you a long explination (lol) and just say that they learn a lot of things very deeply, about life and about their competency to explore and master life and their interests. Sometimes this can lead to getting hurt, and I am learning to be okay with that. Real raw life has pain in it and I am letting go of my fears about pain and hurt. You know I have to bring this back to a nature analogy lol, and in nature there are all kinds of things that can bring pain, opportunities for growth and learning. And very few things cannot be healed or cannot be fixed, and very few things need to be kept in perfect pristine conditon to serve a purpose. All of this understanding and also living it, has taken me really searching my soul and questioning assumptions and processing a lot of feelings and opinions, and realigning my opinions and actions with my values of life learning, trusting my kids, and and wanting them to find their own path in life. Trusting kids is not a popular concept in the greater population of this society. It's a really big thing for me, trusting that my child is always coming from a place of good intentions, trusting that my child is doing whatever they are doing to meet a very valid need inside of them, trusting that if I am concerned about something it isn't always about them, trusting that they know what is best for them (better than I know even). Those are heavy concepts, right? The biggest trust is that allowing my kids to do what feels right to them will end up in them being the truest true THEM that they can be throughout their lives. Now, it's not that simple, right? Because there are other people in the world and sometimes sharing small spaces with them. Those are sometimes not as easy to make blanket statements about because each situation is different. Each person they are interacting with has their own set of "norms" and rules and whatnot, and the hardest part right now for me is understanding where one persons responsibility ends and another's starts -- still working on that one. So, my current struggles are navigating through situations where my daughter (usually this involves Kass, but sometimes Noble, too) wants to be true to herself (which is a lot of very strong-willed self!!) and another person is uncomfortable with it. Unfortunate for some, in order to give full validation to both parties it can take a lot more time to understand both sides and problem solve for a win-win solution (it takes less time, the more practice you have) than to just quick-fix the situation. So, specifically, when Kass was on top of the van: she is part monkey, and I don't mind that she was up there. Could she get hurt? Maybe (although she has been doing some risky things since she was 2 and I can only think of 1 instance where she got hurt, and it was minor, and she learned to tweak it a bit to not get hurt the next time). Could she have hurt the car? Maybe, but the chances of it preventing it from working were slim, and if I was concerned about it, I would have said, "hey, I think that might break the car." and she would have tried something that still met her need to climb and show off to the ones she loves and wants to impress but in a way that she thought might not break the car. And if I still felt like it would break the car, I could say,"still worried about the car", and she may try something else or say, "no it won't because, see, I'm..." Now, conventional parenting would cut all that short, not risk any of that (see no value in the risk), and say,"Get down from there." but I am SO not conventional, so we do things differently :)) So, then there's the last part that did come into play: could it have hurt someone else? Yes. It could have hurt Jai or me, since we were close enough. So, I could have stepped further away. Worst case scenario, Jai could have gotten hurt before I realized that we were too close, and I would have been very sad and that would have been very unfortunate. And we would have learned for future reference to be more aware of where the baby is at in proximity to something that could hurt her. I don't want to hurt any of my children but hurt does happen as a consequence of living, and hurt doesn't have to be as horrible as some of us believe it is (still unpacking that for myself). The other instance that I was thinking was Jai crawling on the cement and getting scratched. I didn't know you had mentioned to Kass that she could get hurt and I didn't think of it when I came out, but what I may have done is suggest some socks to cover her feet (which of course I forgot to bring) and then said,"Darn, I forgot socks. Could we put her somewhere softer, just in case?" Kass' responses are not always as simple as we would like or think they are "supposed" to be. She has a lot of reaction built up inside of her, she is very sensitive to feeling like someone is trying to control her or be right-- she was raised by me, where could she get that from!? (insert feigned look of shock) She also wants to be right and be valued and respected for her choices. It is important to her that people see her wisdom. Soooooo, giving her the opportunity to find a new solution works wonders! It works a lot more effectively (if that were to be measured with cooperativeness) than questioning her logic, wisdom, own needs. Do I think she will always "require" people to set things up in this manner? Probably not, once she gets her fill of feeling valued and whatnot. And if she does, is that something we ever could have changed by forcing her otherwise? Is it my place to try to change her or direct her path? Is that even possible? What kinds of reprocussions are we talking about here? Well, I am living some of them (Kass' sensitivity to control and such). So, this is long enough, but I just wanted to toss out some food for thought and hopefully help you to understand why we do what we do. I know that many of the parenting philosophies that I draw from are not mainstream in this country, so they are very new concepts to some of us. It has been an exciting adventure :))
I loved loved LOVED seeing you yesterday!!!!!!!! It filled my heart with love and joy! Thank you for coming down here to see us :))
I wanted to reach out and explain a few things so that you can maybe understand and feel better about a couple things I noticed yesterday. I know it isn't common in our culture to interact or raise kids the way that I do because this culture very much values safety and doing things a certain way because it is "right". I also think that we instinctively think things and feel things because our parents did them with us and so we have internalized them as the "right" way, or are just more comfortable when things are done a certain way because of that. I have noticed that the areas where my well-intentioned mom was very controlling of me are the areas that are hardest for me to let go of control in, and that different parents have different problems with different things. So, through researching learning so much, I really value kids experimenting and learning for themselves and exploring. Some amazing things happen when kids do these things, and I will save you a long explination (lol) and just say that they learn a lot of things very deeply, about life and about their competency to explore and master life and their interests. Sometimes this can lead to getting hurt, and I am learning to be okay with that. Real raw life has pain in it and I am letting go of my fears about pain and hurt. You know I have to bring this back to a nature analogy lol, and in nature there are all kinds of things that can bring pain, opportunities for growth and learning. And very few things cannot be healed or cannot be fixed, and very few things need to be kept in perfect pristine conditon to serve a purpose. All of this understanding and also living it, has taken me really searching my soul and questioning assumptions and processing a lot of feelings and opinions, and realigning my opinions and actions with my values of life learning, trusting my kids, and and wanting them to find their own path in life. Trusting kids is not a popular concept in the greater population of this society. It's a really big thing for me, trusting that my child is always coming from a place of good intentions, trusting that my child is doing whatever they are doing to meet a very valid need inside of them, trusting that if I am concerned about something it isn't always about them, trusting that they know what is best for them (better than I know even). Those are heavy concepts, right? The biggest trust is that allowing my kids to do what feels right to them will end up in them being the truest true THEM that they can be throughout their lives. Now, it's not that simple, right? Because there are other people in the world and sometimes sharing small spaces with them. Those are sometimes not as easy to make blanket statements about because each situation is different. Each person they are interacting with has their own set of "norms" and rules and whatnot, and the hardest part right now for me is understanding where one persons responsibility ends and another's starts -- still working on that one. So, my current struggles are navigating through situations where my daughter (usually this involves Kass, but sometimes Noble, too) wants to be true to herself (which is a lot of very strong-willed self!!) and another person is uncomfortable with it. Unfortunate for some, in order to give full validation to both parties it can take a lot more time to understand both sides and problem solve for a win-win solution (it takes less time, the more practice you have) than to just quick-fix the situation. So, specifically, when Kass was on top of the van: she is part monkey, and I don't mind that she was up there. Could she get hurt? Maybe (although she has been doing some risky things since she was 2 and I can only think of 1 instance where she got hurt, and it was minor, and she learned to tweak it a bit to not get hurt the next time). Could she have hurt the car? Maybe, but the chances of it preventing it from working were slim, and if I was concerned about it, I would have said, "hey, I think that might break the car." and she would have tried something that still met her need to climb and show off to the ones she loves and wants to impress but in a way that she thought might not break the car. And if I still felt like it would break the car, I could say,"still worried about the car", and she may try something else or say, "no it won't because, see, I'm..." Now, conventional parenting would cut all that short, not risk any of that (see no value in the risk), and say,"Get down from there." but I am SO not conventional, so we do things differently :)) So, then there's the last part that did come into play: could it have hurt someone else? Yes. It could have hurt Jai or me, since we were close enough. So, I could have stepped further away. Worst case scenario, Jai could have gotten hurt before I realized that we were too close, and I would have been very sad and that would have been very unfortunate. And we would have learned for future reference to be more aware of where the baby is at in proximity to something that could hurt her. I don't want to hurt any of my children but hurt does happen as a consequence of living, and hurt doesn't have to be as horrible as some of us believe it is (still unpacking that for myself). The other instance that I was thinking was Jai crawling on the cement and getting scratched. I didn't know you had mentioned to Kass that she could get hurt and I didn't think of it when I came out, but what I may have done is suggest some socks to cover her feet (which of course I forgot to bring) and then said,"Darn, I forgot socks. Could we put her somewhere softer, just in case?" Kass' responses are not always as simple as we would like or think they are "supposed" to be. She has a lot of reaction built up inside of her, she is very sensitive to feeling like someone is trying to control her or be right-- she was raised by me, where could she get that from!? (insert feigned look of shock) She also wants to be right and be valued and respected for her choices. It is important to her that people see her wisdom. Soooooo, giving her the opportunity to find a new solution works wonders! It works a lot more effectively (if that were to be measured with cooperativeness) than questioning her logic, wisdom, own needs. Do I think she will always "require" people to set things up in this manner? Probably not, once she gets her fill of feeling valued and whatnot. And if she does, is that something we ever could have changed by forcing her otherwise? Is it my place to try to change her or direct her path? Is that even possible? What kinds of reprocussions are we talking about here? Well, I am living some of them (Kass' sensitivity to control and such). So, this is long enough, but I just wanted to toss out some food for thought and hopefully help you to understand why we do what we do. I know that many of the parenting philosophies that I draw from are not mainstream in this country, so they are very new concepts to some of us. It has been an exciting adventure :))
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Family Harleys
Blue hair
Park Day
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