Must work on this cloning thing...

Ok, so I haven't posted anything in months. This is not for lack of content. Over and over things happen that I think - wow, that might be interesting to write about and reflect on later. Things like, my youngest's first year in soccer and his embarassingly terrific team, or the way he gets so excited when the ball comes to him, he forgets to kick it. Things like this whole homeschooling odyssey: the good - moments of wonder and excitement, the bad - hours of playing the rubber pencil game, and the ugly - mostly my temper in the aforementioned moments. Things like B's amazing soccer exploits and his growing ability to achieve academically. Other things like karate, T's awesome new teacher, the science and technology festival on the national mall, and Lego league.

But, start adding this stuff up, man - no wonder I'm so tired. Between the stress of waiting for a personnel thing, and dealing with obstreporous colleagues as program chair, while homeschooling in the back of my office, and keeping that down low while I teach over 100 college students... between getting two kids to piano, keeping an after-school babysitter here (most days, meeting the bus when not), getting a kid to karate three nights a week, another two soccer two, and a third to soccer one, and soccer games Saturday... between getting a kid to Lego team three days a week, reading to the second grade class sometimes, helping with second grade homework, and helping the other kid through his Lego project stuff, and grading college papers... between doing laundry (sometimes), folding mountains of it (rarely), and remembering to feed the kids... between ordering Halloween costumes, dressing kids up, and remembering to feed the dog... at the moment - there just isn't that much left. And, that may explain (partly) why I've put on some weight and hardly ever find time to exercise (and while I generally consider exercise a priority - I am just tapped out).

Don't take this as a statement that I am busier than everyone - frankly, everyone I know is just too damn busy.

I also recognize that I am pretty fortunate. We both have jobs we enjoy, our kids are mostly healthy, we are mostly healthy, and we live in a house we love. Dh is helpful - I am not doing it all alone.

Sorry, there wasn't a point here, just an explanation with a bit of a groan.

Avoiding Boredom and Obsession

So, Z is finding that the days can be long when you aren't shuffling to and from different rooms and juggling which notebooks and books go where when. Also, when you aren't doing worksheets, there is a lot more free time.

What happens with all of this time? Well, Z is definitely more engaged with the family and me in particular. Z is also a little aimless during the day. I believe that we call this "deschooling" and it is a little hard to watch. The goal, from what I gather, is to let boredom guide his choices in finding ways to learn that engage him.

We are walking a tightrope a little though. When he has too much idle time, he sometimes obsesses about weird things and I don't want that to become a habit. We are seeing more fears about random things than usual, and I don't want to give him time to consider fearing random things (usually environmental exposures) to become normal. For example, he took a sip from the fountain this morning and realized it smelled like cleaning chemicals... so, of course he freaked out that he'd been poisoned.

I am trying to help him find things to do such that he doesn't have time to obsess, but not assign random things to do. He (I believe) needs to find his own way here to learn to engage in his own learning. At least, that is my philosophy at this very second.

Finding passion.

So far, Z spends a fair bit of time in my back office with the door closed. I can hear lego's and other toys back there. I can hear him talking to himself and reading. He still isn't doing much writing - but he seems to be learning a bunch (nothing specific - some wiring, some gee whiz, a little of this and that).

Writing something every day is going to be challenge. All week, he has not done that voluntarily. Nor has he put his best effort in. I don't really have currency to dangle except pride in his work.

Maybe this is the issue. One of my bigger emerging goals this year is for Z to discover passion. In karate, his instructor keeps asking me "Does he like this? He seems to be just phoning it in". But, Z claims to love karate, despite looking like he is barely there. The only place he actually seems enthusiastic is when draped over something reading, or when playing Wii or other video/computer games. But that is not really engaged in the world.

Z needs to find something that can inspire him, get him engaged with the outside world, fire him up. He needs to learn to show enthusiasm. If he loves something - people should know it.

Our start: Homeschool

Well, we went to my office on Sunday to set it up for him. Z set up his beanbag chair, lapdesk, notebooks, history wall chart, and other paraphernalia. He was so eager to get started, he sat right down with a notebook and started writing a story - like, actually writing... without a cattle prod up his butt. Ok, only two short sentences, but - hey!



On Monday we had the FIRST DAY OF HOMESCHOOL. I feel kind of awkward there, it is known, but not widely, that I am homeschooling Z at my office. At any rate, I took him to the library and got him into the system so that he can borrow books without me. He borrowed a science book about experiments for kids proposed by Thomas Edison. Then, he pored through the entire book through the day - discussing serial and paralell circuitry, constructing batteris out of lemons, and making candy. Then, he felt like he hadn't done any "school" so he found someone (Heron or Hero of Hellenistic Greece) and studied this mechanical/mathematical genius for awhile. We struggled over his one real "assignment" - writing - but, he got there by adding to paltry sentences to his story from the previous day. When asked what school he did, he said "none". But when asked what he learned, he talked our ears off. Interesting that he didn't equate any of his reading or discussion to "school".



Tuesday, B was home sick from school. So, I had to work from home with two boys - one sick and out-of-sorts, and one that is supposed to be homeschooling. First, I gave them pliers, wire strippers/clippers, a battery, and a lightbulb to work out some of the experiments he'd read about. They bickered and moaned (too may chiefs, not enough indians). I tried to help for awhile... I put on my black-and-white stripes for awhile and got terribly frustrated trying to simultaneously work and referee... finally, I went to J's office downstairs, shut the door, and told them only to bother me if the house was on fire or someone was bleeding. Now, it is basically bedtime and Z is finally at the table supposed to be writing, but is completely distracted by a costume catalog that came in the mail today - I shall take it in a moment if he can't get it together on his own.



So, the sum of our experiences, I was pleased to see Z engaged with real people and nonfiction for brief bits. I saw a lot more completely distracted crazy behavior today while jockeying with his brother. But, without the stress of a traditional school, I see a lot more of the Z that I have always known and loved. I have to stay patient with Z's relentless questions (if only to point out that I am busy and will look later) in that he is schooling where I work - and I really have to work. On the other hand, even putting him off, I probably give him more attention than any teacher has been able to. We are kind of "de-schooling" now - figuring out the difference between School (capital S) and learning (which is what homeschool, to me, is all about). Finally, this child clearly loves the learning part dearly. He hates writing and has to learn to start projects like that that he hates (hence, my one requirement - write something, anything, every day).



While some day it will be possible, if only the kid could voice to paper somehow - he can talk through the most amazing ideas, but is completely stymied about putting them on paper. I can relate and went through the same thing until I learned to touch-type (another goal this year for Z). One small segment of our discussion was a verbal "essay" on how the printed book is dying and how sad it is for books that are out-of-press and what electronic books may mean to changing the style of how people read and hence, perhaps, changes in the complexity or degree of challenge that we might expect in our reading in the future. How sad, my nine-year-old thinks if the type of complex, braided storylines that he so loves won't be cherished by a less-patient electronic readership. What a cool nine-year-old to worry about such things. I sure do love this kid.

Free range, but supervised.

Other parents often look at our free range parenting aghast at the freedoms and responsibilities we give our three sons. They have been at liberty to be home alone (for short periods of time) starting at age seven. They are allowed to walk to and from the park alone. We allow them out of our sight on hiking and biking trails. Our seven-year-old cooked us a lovely breakfast on Sunday morning. Our youngest has been kayaking solo since age three. We are pleased of the responsibility that they are learning and at their pride in their own achievement.

The one seeming exception to our free range philosophy is how we supervise children around water. We live on a pond. Ponds do not come with pool safety features such as fences or alarms. In our case, there is a big wall that drops into deep water just off of our lawn. We vacation at a lake and at the ocean. We go to the pool at least once a week. We are avid boaters, fishermen, and snorkelers. Finally, my work as a biology professor regularly takes us to boats and the ocean for marine biology and coral reef biology. We are always around water.

We supervise them more carefully at the water than in any other circumstance. It isn't that they are uncomfortable in the water. They have been taken into the pool regularly since twelve weeks of age, and have had formal lessons as long as they've been old enough to participate. All three of our children are strong swimmers for their ages. However, even when they play in shallow water, we watch them.

We formally pass responsibility, "I am going inside, you are watching them now". Too many children have drowned in front of adults that didn't realize that they were responsible for counting heads at that moment. This is what famously (and tragically) happened at a children's party hosted by the rock star Tommy Lee. At least a dozen adults were standing around the pool as the child drowned, and an adult trained in rescue breathing (which I also recommend) might have changed the outcome in that situation. We watch while we hear them playing, but when they get quiet - we immediately count heads.

We demand that they wear vests (PFDs or personal flotation devices). We model that behavior as well. They wear life vests when in a boat (even in our rowboat, on our little pond, with us in the boat). This has paid off as at least three separate times we've had to pluck a chilly, wet child from the pond. Before any child takes out a boat; they have to repeat after us that if anything happens - they are more important than stuff - if the boat capsizes, save yourself and we will worry about the boat and gear later. They wear vests when swimming in deep water when we aren't swimming with them. Our weaker swimmers still wear them in deeper water when we are present. When we snorkel, they wear inflatable snorkeling vests. We have over a dozen life vests of various sizes so any visitor can play safely.

I am not only cautious with young children. I pay just as much attention to water safety with my college students. I ascertain people's water skills early. I have adult snorkeling vests available for all students that need them. I demand that my students use the buddy system and stay with and watch their buddies. I count heads so often that literally, after the last trip, I woke up for three days after the trip trying to count my students in my sleep. I have had to rescue one student and am tremendously grateful that she only had a brief scare.

So, why is this free range mama so paranoid about water? First, as explained by a Coast Guard Search and Rescue diver, drowning doesn't look like drowning (http://mariovittone.com/2010/05/154/). Second, tragedy can happen in an instant. Third, water currents are deceptively strong and unpredictable and once a swimmer is in a current - he or she can easily lose control and in worst cases be held by an underwater obstacle (kayakers call these deadly obstacles "strainers"). Finally, even strong swimmers can easily panic when the unexpected occurs (rip currents, jellyfish, surprise dunking by a wave or a friend, a tangle with seaweed or other wildlife, illness, or fatigue). Not relevant to children (I hope), but it is worth remembering that these dangers are exacerbated when alcohol is involved.

I love water. I love fishing in it, boating on it, swimming in it, watching it, and listening to it. But I also respect it. So have free range water bugs like we do. Go ahead, have your children learn to swim in pools, lakes, rivers, and oceans for fun and fitness. Let them play with wildlife and go fishing at the shore - this is gee-whiz biology at its best. Have them learn to handle boats of all kinds (ours use sailboats, rowboats, canoes, and kayaks) - it is terrific exercise in using judgement, physical skills, navigation, and physics.

But, as you do enjoy the water, be ever mindful of water safety and keep current in your CPR skills. Drowning is the number two cause of death by unintentional injury in children under 15 (after vehicular accidents). It doesn't take much water to be dangerous, many of the child drowning victims succombed to the water in a bucket or bathtub. No alarm or fence can replace good old-fashioned supervision.

BFF

The New York Times had an article a few days ago on how schools are actively dissuading children from having "best friends". It is far better, according to the schools, to have bunches of people that you play with equally.

Isn't that just a grand idea for extroverts that like to interact with lots of kids at once?

Is this just another way that they are actively discriminating against the 25% of the population that is introverted?

Introverts, generally, prefer one-on-one interactions with a few close friends and can be overwhelmed by large group interactions. Ask me how I know.

Body Image

Is anyone else shocked when they see photos of themselves?

I don't notice it as much in mirrors, but when I see a photo of my family... I am always caught off-guard. I gaze at the kids and how cute they are, then I am struck - "Who is the chunky middle-aged woman with my kids? - OH MY GOSH!!"

While on the outside, I am middle-aged and a bit overweight... on the inside, I still imagine the thirty-year-old image of a thin, athletic woman. It is just so incongruous.

I just covered the gray for the first time yesterday. I am still feeling out what I think of resorting to such extremes.