Sharing an Alfie Kohn article on Facebook, thinking about public/mainstream schools, especially in these USA, varieties of "homeschooling," human development, our attitudes towards children, and was reminded of this;
Earlier this summer I had an out-of-state data collector come to our door, asking me to participate in a survey that helps them assess general population's needs and wants for early education and childcare. I wasn't able to easily answer many of the multiple choice "which best describes" type questions, because we've had some privilege and, equally significant, made it a goal and a point to create a life where many didn't apply to us. This lead to some to some tangent conversation.
She was a retired school teacher, yet said if she had young children now she would not send them to public (or most other mainstream) schools, and that she sincerely hoped her grandbabies would not be sent to them either. Among her chief concerns were all-day kindergarten, the amounts of homework given even to young children, class sizes/overworked teachers, inequities between school-zones within the same communities and/or schools within the same districts, and the children's physical safety.
Standing by our public/mainstream schooling system just because you are a part of the system is, in my opinion, similar to defending a criminal church member or church organization, just because you are a member of that church. If anything, that should give you more reason to want to set things right, to create a respectable, (and in the case of schools) evidence based system, that actually nurtures young people's minds and fosters a love of learning.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Help a mama out
I had a lovely talk with a mama-friend a few days ago, that served as a good reminder and motivation for me, so I wanted to share with you all.
When my friend had her last (3rd) baby, a little over a year ago, I took her family dinner one night, about a week after the baby's birth. Once a week for the next three weeks I went over, with my kids in tow, brought lunch, and spent a couple of hours with her. Once I held the baby while she showered, mostly I chatted and kept her company as she nursed and folded laundry, while our kids occupied eachother.
I meant to keep going once a week until at least six weeks, but stuff came up, everybody in my house took turns being sick, and it didn't happen. I felt bad that I hadn't done more. It didn't feel like I'd done much at all. Last week when we were talking, it came up, as she mentioned the thank you card she never sent me. "For what?" I asked. She proceeded to tell about how lovely and supportive I had been, and how much I'd done for her during those first few weeks. I honestly had no idea! She had/has lots of family, church family, and friends. I assumed they would have all been doing at least some of those things for her as well. Apparently, not many were.
It was reminder to me how far a little bit of effort can go, and that it's never safe to assume someone has all the support they need without you. If each one of us puts in the little bit of effort to provide one meal for a mom with a new baby, and whenever possible makes sure that she is getting some time to shower alone and fold her laundry, it will be effort well spent. Even if you can't financially afford to provide a meal, you can hold a sweet baby while mama showers, or do a sink full of dishes or vacuum. You can take her older kids or her dog for walk. Even if you only visit and do one chore during her entire postpartum period, it matters. It makes a difference.
We live in an area with an estimated 50% of mothers experiencing postpartum mood disorders. Lets each do that tiny bit to help support eachother and reduce our risks of developing such a devastating condition.
Also, Happy Saint Patrick's Day.
When my friend had her last (3rd) baby, a little over a year ago, I took her family dinner one night, about a week after the baby's birth. Once a week for the next three weeks I went over, with my kids in tow, brought lunch, and spent a couple of hours with her. Once I held the baby while she showered, mostly I chatted and kept her company as she nursed and folded laundry, while our kids occupied eachother.
I meant to keep going once a week until at least six weeks, but stuff came up, everybody in my house took turns being sick, and it didn't happen. I felt bad that I hadn't done more. It didn't feel like I'd done much at all. Last week when we were talking, it came up, as she mentioned the thank you card she never sent me. "For what?" I asked. She proceeded to tell about how lovely and supportive I had been, and how much I'd done for her during those first few weeks. I honestly had no idea! She had/has lots of family, church family, and friends. I assumed they would have all been doing at least some of those things for her as well. Apparently, not many were.
It was reminder to me how far a little bit of effort can go, and that it's never safe to assume someone has all the support they need without you. If each one of us puts in the little bit of effort to provide one meal for a mom with a new baby, and whenever possible makes sure that she is getting some time to shower alone and fold her laundry, it will be effort well spent. Even if you can't financially afford to provide a meal, you can hold a sweet baby while mama showers, or do a sink full of dishes or vacuum. You can take her older kids or her dog for walk. Even if you only visit and do one chore during her entire postpartum period, it matters. It makes a difference.
We live in an area with an estimated 50% of mothers experiencing postpartum mood disorders. Lets each do that tiny bit to help support eachother and reduce our risks of developing such a devastating condition.
Also, Happy Saint Patrick's Day.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
I wish I had an arm chair I liked.
Actually, the title is a lie. I wish I had lots of hammock-chairs and floor cushions, and that we could get rid of armchairs and couches without other people in my household having fits.
I've seen this being passed around Facebook the past few days, and have, thus far, bitten my tongue. So now my tongue is full teeth marks and is too sore to bite on anymore. http://m.examiner.com/k-12-in-topeka/in-what-other-profession
I think I understand what he's trying to say, and agree that generally, no single teacher should be held accountable for the graduating or dropping out of any single student. Still, I thought he made some very poor analogies, among other disagreements I have with him. All of the other professions he sites are primarily reactive, not specifically educational or preventative. If firefighters spent seven hours a day in a home, actively trying to make it as fire-resistant as possible, and the house still caught fire, then it would be a more accurate comparison. When a person sees doctors for years and the doctors fail to catch, diagnose, or effectively treat a treatable illness/condition, we do question them and/or mainstream medicine and their effectiveness, as much as some of us question any teacher and our current education system.
It struck me as yet another person who doesn't want to think about the implications of things like the USA's ranking in PISA surveys; that they might be part of or supporting a failing system; that if they are truly dedicated to effective, quality, equal education for all children, they need to help change the system they are a part of instead of blindly defending it.
Believe it or not, I have a lot of respect for teaching as a profession. I know alot of really dedicated teachers. I come from a family steeped with teachers. Generations of teachers. My mother, my grandmother, my great-grandmother, and even (get ready to gasp) I was a teacher. Admittedly, I was a substitute/assistant preschool teacher and elementary school classroom volunteer. I did not finish my degree in education. When I started college, my goal was to be a teacher. The reasons I didn't finish aside, among the reasons I wanted to be a teacher were to be better than many of the teachers I had had and met, and to help reform the system from the inside. I know a few awesome individuals who are teachers, in public schools, who are doing just that -pushing limits, breaking stigmas, managing their classrooms and teaching in the most effective, quality, equal, up-to-date evidence-based ways they can without getting themselves reprimanded or fired. They are not the ones posting and reposting articles like the one linked to above. They are educators who recognize that some of those "arm-chair educators and anti-teacher, anti-public school evangelists" are not any of those things. (I think it's funny that he resorts to generalizations, name calling and finger pointing, given that those are among his complaints.) They are the ones recognizing that not everything you are taught in college is fact, or permanent. Not everything in your textbooks is current or based on unbiased scientific study. Not everything being pushed for by certain individuals or organizations is actually healthy for our children. They are the ones who realize that just because someone didn't take the tests and turn in homework at an institution comparable to the one they graduated from doesn't mean they haven't done the same amount, or more, of reading and researching, maybe even the same books that were assigned to college students, and getting the same or more hands on experience.
I have no doubt he received some truly rude, anti-teacher, anti-public school, evangelical responses. He seems intentionally offensive, so I don't think it should surprise anyone that he elicited offensive retorts. I wish he would have taken a few minutes to word his post less argumentatively and judgmentally, with better analogies and examples. I wish that he seemed more communicative and open to recognizing that not every "arm-chair educator" is an uneducated, anti-teacher and anti-public school evangelist, and that even if some of them are, that doesn't necessarily mean their opinions or evidence are inherently invalid, let alone that the opinions, information and resources offered by all who disagree with him on this subject are inherently invalid. Some of them, who love the idea of quality, equal public education for everyone, are simply sad that that is not what is happening in the USA, and offer evidence of that, and ideas on how the situation could be improved. Some of those "arm-chair educators," who object to traditional schooling methods and current practices in the United States of America, use to or still do sit behind teachers desks in public or other mainstream schools, or squat next to children to engage in respectful exchanges, literally at their level, and inspire a love for learning.
I've seen this being passed around Facebook the past few days, and have, thus far, bitten my tongue. So now my tongue is full teeth marks and is too sore to bite on anymore. http://m.examiner.com/k-12-in-topeka/in-what-other-profession
I think I understand what he's trying to say, and agree that generally, no single teacher should be held accountable for the graduating or dropping out of any single student. Still, I thought he made some very poor analogies, among other disagreements I have with him. All of the other professions he sites are primarily reactive, not specifically educational or preventative. If firefighters spent seven hours a day in a home, actively trying to make it as fire-resistant as possible, and the house still caught fire, then it would be a more accurate comparison. When a person sees doctors for years and the doctors fail to catch, diagnose, or effectively treat a treatable illness/condition, we do question them and/or mainstream medicine and their effectiveness, as much as some of us question any teacher and our current education system.
It struck me as yet another person who doesn't want to think about the implications of things like the USA's ranking in PISA surveys; that they might be part of or supporting a failing system; that if they are truly dedicated to effective, quality, equal education for all children, they need to help change the system they are a part of instead of blindly defending it.
Believe it or not, I have a lot of respect for teaching as a profession. I know alot of really dedicated teachers. I come from a family steeped with teachers. Generations of teachers. My mother, my grandmother, my great-grandmother, and even (get ready to gasp) I was a teacher. Admittedly, I was a substitute/assistant preschool teacher and elementary school classroom volunteer. I did not finish my degree in education. When I started college, my goal was to be a teacher. The reasons I didn't finish aside, among the reasons I wanted to be a teacher were to be better than many of the teachers I had had and met, and to help reform the system from the inside. I know a few awesome individuals who are teachers, in public schools, who are doing just that -pushing limits, breaking stigmas, managing their classrooms and teaching in the most effective, quality, equal, up-to-date evidence-based ways they can without getting themselves reprimanded or fired. They are not the ones posting and reposting articles like the one linked to above. They are educators who recognize that some of those "arm-chair educators and anti-teacher, anti-public school evangelists" are not any of those things. (I think it's funny that he resorts to generalizations, name calling and finger pointing, given that those are among his complaints.) They are the ones recognizing that not everything you are taught in college is fact, or permanent. Not everything in your textbooks is current or based on unbiased scientific study. Not everything being pushed for by certain individuals or organizations is actually healthy for our children. They are the ones who realize that just because someone didn't take the tests and turn in homework at an institution comparable to the one they graduated from doesn't mean they haven't done the same amount, or more, of reading and researching, maybe even the same books that were assigned to college students, and getting the same or more hands on experience.
I have no doubt he received some truly rude, anti-teacher, anti-public school, evangelical responses. He seems intentionally offensive, so I don't think it should surprise anyone that he elicited offensive retorts. I wish he would have taken a few minutes to word his post less argumentatively and judgmentally, with better analogies and examples. I wish that he seemed more communicative and open to recognizing that not every "arm-chair educator" is an uneducated, anti-teacher and anti-public school evangelist, and that even if some of them are, that doesn't necessarily mean their opinions or evidence are inherently invalid, let alone that the opinions, information and resources offered by all who disagree with him on this subject are inherently invalid. Some of them, who love the idea of quality, equal public education for everyone, are simply sad that that is not what is happening in the USA, and offer evidence of that, and ideas on how the situation could be improved. Some of those "arm-chair educators," who object to traditional schooling methods and current practices in the United States of America, use to or still do sit behind teachers desks in public or other mainstream schools, or squat next to children to engage in respectful exchanges, literally at their level, and inspire a love for learning.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Dear Girl Scouts
I am a former scout and assistant scout leader. I recently learned that transgender girls are being allowed to join Girl Scouts. I hope the unfortunately fearful and closed-minded girl and other people who purpose a cookie boycott because of this find a way to ease their discomfort before they further negatively impact the lives of so many others.
I would proudly be a sister to any girl scout, no matter her birth gender. Who knows, maybe I was a sister scout to a transgender scout? I wasn't worried about or examining other girls' genitalia. I'm still not.
I might question some cookie ingredients and organization changes since my childhood, but not this one.
I want to express my pride in having been part of this organization for over ten years. I will continue to...
do my best to be
honest and fair,
friendly and helpful,
considerate and caring,
courageous and strong, and
responsible for what I say and do,
and to
respect myself and others,
respect authority,
use resources wisely,
make the world a better place, and
be a sister to EVERY Girl Scout.
I would proudly be a sister to any girl scout, no matter her birth gender. Who knows, maybe I was a sister scout to a transgender scout? I wasn't worried about or examining other girls' genitalia. I'm still not.
I might question some cookie ingredients and organization changes since my childhood, but not this one.
I want to express my pride in having been part of this organization for over ten years. I will continue to...
do my best to be
honest and fair,
friendly and helpful,
considerate and caring,
courageous and strong, and
responsible for what I say and do,
and to
respect myself and others,
respect authority,
use resources wisely,
make the world a better place, and
be a sister to EVERY Girl Scout.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
The Power of Vulnerability
Because this might be my favorite TED talk ever, and it's in line with my last post, I share the following video.
The Power of Vulnerability
The Power of Vulnerability
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Saint Nicholas Day 2011
(A boot full of goodies from Saint Nicholas.)
I wanted to celebrate Saint Nicholas Day, just as we did when I was a child, but I also wanted to keep it simple. It's way to easy to go overboard with this and Christmas. I settled on baking gingerbread cookies yesterday, from the dough we'd prepared the night before. Last night after dinner we talked about Saint Nicholas of Myra (again), and told stories of the miracles he performed and kind things he did for people. We wrote a story on big paper and left it clipped to the easel for Saint Nicholas to read, left gingerbread cookies for him and "Black Pete" (Zwarte Pieten) on the mantle, and put the children's shoes in front of the fire place.
In our house, everything made of gingerbread gets eyes.
This morning they awoke to find in their shoes an apple, chocolate, a lollipop, a Schliech horse, and three quarters (like the three bags of gold Saint Nicholas left for the poor man's three daughters). Assessing the goodies, Maeve declared, "I did not expect so much stuff! Three quarters means I can buy three more lollipops!" Whimsy carried her little Shetland pony around for hours, and asked to buy a steamer with her coins when she and I went on a "date" while Maeve was at lunch with a friend.
(Enjoying her dark mint chocolate. I unwrapped one of the big organic bars from the natural market, halved it, re-wrapped the two smaller "bars" in custom "Saint Nicholas' Workshop" wrappers.)
The only disappointment is that the Saint Nicholas books that I ordered from Amazon didn't get here in time. I really thought they would. There's one (The Real Santa Claus) that looks like a compilation of history, folklore, and art, compiled and written by Marianna Mayer. If you know me and my love of children's picture books, you might know she wrote some others that I adore. Oh well. We'll probably celebrate again, with my parents, brother and nephew, when my nephew gets back later this week. My mom can get her wooden shoes out for that one, (the little expensive decorative ones that I bought her just so she could take them to school and tell her kids about Saint Nicholas, which she hasn't done yet. If your child attends her preschool, please tell her you're disappointed.) Hopefully the books will be here.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
I'll Run Away With Gypsies
In my world, waking up on the wrong side of the bed means waking up on the side some kid peed on. Today I woke up in a bed that was all wrong sides.
Last night as I was getting into bed I discovered that my toddler (who refuses to wear diapers) had wet the bed. I gently moved her, removed the waterproof bed cover, and went for a new one, only to discover there was not another clean, dry one. In the laundry room I transferred the ones from the washing machine into the dryer, and sleepily passed the time until it was dry. Finally, more than an hour after my first attempt, I went to sleep in a clean, dry bed.
I half woke when my five year climbed into bed with me. I half woke again when she climbed out a couple of hours later. I woke completely when I rolled over to where she had been laying and landed in a puddle of pee she'd left behind. I cursed. I stripped myself and the bed. I put on the other clean cover that I'd taken from the dryer only a few hours ago. I took a quick shower and went back to sleep. I woke maybe an hour later, a little earlier than regular wake up time, when my toddler got restless... and I felt the wet creeping from her pants onto me.
One short night. Three pee messes, (not counting the one the five year old left in her own bed). Pee on me twice. Six hours of broken sleep. I was not a happy camper this morning, and as usually happens, me being off my game somehow means everyone in the house is off their game as well.
Fast forward to mid-afternoon. I feel like I'm losing my mind. I was so tired, I even drank a soda - a caffeinated soda. My husband witnessed this and wondered who I was and what I had done with his wife. It almost helped perk me enough to seem worth it. The kids are behaving like wild beasties. My husband is irritating me by not doing things my way, and not intuitively knowing what he ought to be doing, and how, in order to best help fill the gaps my current foul disposition is leaving. He has now retreated to the garage. The house is even messier than usual. I've been doing urine-soaked laundry all day. There has been more whining and arguing and kids pinching each other than I currently feel capable of handling. I start another load of laundry, sit down at the computer and... am promptly interrupted by screaming from the other room, followed by whining and tattling, "Maaaaaaaaamaaaa..." "She did this." "She did that." Someone's plaything was stolen, someone's arm sports fingernail marks. You know that drill.
"That's it!" I yell. "I can't deal with this anymore. This is driving me crazy!" Not one of my finer moments, I realize even while yelling, "I'm selling you both to the gypsies!"
Pause. This is where it starts to get better. They're staring at me like I've lost my mind. Maybe I have. Maybe I need an attitude check as much as they do.
"Never mind," I say. "I'll go live with the gypsies. You two can stay here and keep screaming and making messes."
Four big eyes look at me.
"There's no real gypsies anymore, Mama... Are there," asks my five year old, brow furrowed.
"Yep. There are. And I'm going to live with them. I'm tired of trying to clean up all these messes by myself while you two scream and argue and make more messes." I am talking now, not yelling.
"Well, you're only allowed to take the clothes you're wearing," I am informed, in a stern tone.
I shrug. "Ok," I say.
"You'll have to wear them all the time, for the rest of your life. You won't have any clean ones to put on ever," she's using the serious voice still, but her brow has relaxed.
"Pssh. I can get new ones. I can make new ones. My new gypsy friends will let me borrow some of theirs until I get others." Somehow the mood is shifting. I think we all feel it.
"What if there's no gypsies your same size? And how will you buy new ones? You're not allowed to take any money. What will you eat." There's no more yelling, whining or toy-snatching going on. Seemingly by magic, where moments ago there was sibling rivalry and a frazzled mama there is now curiosity and imagination .
"There's lots of gypsies my size. I'll borrow some dancing clothes and scarves, and a pretty painted tambourine and a fancy hat. I'll dance and play the tambourine, and people who walk by will put money in the hat for me. I'll use that to buy food and new clothes, or fabric to make new clothes.Maybe I'll get a monkey and train it to dance too." I demonstrate, doing a little dance while shaking my imaginary tambourine.
Suddenly, we're story telling.
"You can take this with you, for when you make your clothes" she says, pointing to my sewing bust.
"No way," I say, "you keep it here. It's too big to carry. My back pack will be full, with my sleeping bag and my food and my first aid kit, and my monkey sitting on top."
As this tale of my life with gypsies unfolds, the toddler occasionally interjects, reiterating what the five year old and I say. In her signature fashion of creative grammar and emphatic speech, states, "you live gypeez!" and "you dance gypeez!" "You take seepin bag!? In yours pack pack!? Me. comin.' wis. you!?"
We go on to talk about how I don't like all the mess and angry noise that's been happening today, how they can stay here and make all the messes they want, and eat nothing but blueberries, granola bars, apple juice and yogurt if that's what they like, and scream and beat on each other if that's what they choose. The story evolves. We all end up living like gypsies, leaving the house to eat all the granola bars itself.
Eventually, we migrate to our living room, where they are inspired to help pick up the clutter in order to make room to create an obstacle course that involves intentional obstacles vs the the ones created in trying to avoid stepping on toys, dirty socks, and abandoned art projects. (It's too cold and windy outside for an outdoor course to be appealing to any of us right now.) They practice their jumping and somersaults while I sit and watch, and rest.
A playful story is so much more fun than screaming, and diffused the situation in a way yelling, ordering, punishing and bribery never would have. I'm not going to lie and say the rest of the day was amazing because of story telling or playful parenting genius. I will say that I think choosing to engage in a playful activity with my children rather than vent my exhaustion and frustration through yelling and punishing them for being kids took the evening in a better, healthier direction. And at least the living room was clean for a few minutes; long enough to set up an obstacle course.
Last night as I was getting into bed I discovered that my toddler (who refuses to wear diapers) had wet the bed. I gently moved her, removed the waterproof bed cover, and went for a new one, only to discover there was not another clean, dry one. In the laundry room I transferred the ones from the washing machine into the dryer, and sleepily passed the time until it was dry. Finally, more than an hour after my first attempt, I went to sleep in a clean, dry bed.
I half woke when my five year climbed into bed with me. I half woke again when she climbed out a couple of hours later. I woke completely when I rolled over to where she had been laying and landed in a puddle of pee she'd left behind. I cursed. I stripped myself and the bed. I put on the other clean cover that I'd taken from the dryer only a few hours ago. I took a quick shower and went back to sleep. I woke maybe an hour later, a little earlier than regular wake up time, when my toddler got restless... and I felt the wet creeping from her pants onto me.
One short night. Three pee messes, (not counting the one the five year old left in her own bed). Pee on me twice. Six hours of broken sleep. I was not a happy camper this morning, and as usually happens, me being off my game somehow means everyone in the house is off their game as well.
Fast forward to mid-afternoon. I feel like I'm losing my mind. I was so tired, I even drank a soda - a caffeinated soda. My husband witnessed this and wondered who I was and what I had done with his wife. It almost helped perk me enough to seem worth it. The kids are behaving like wild beasties. My husband is irritating me by not doing things my way, and not intuitively knowing what he ought to be doing, and how, in order to best help fill the gaps my current foul disposition is leaving. He has now retreated to the garage. The house is even messier than usual. I've been doing urine-soaked laundry all day. There has been more whining and arguing and kids pinching each other than I currently feel capable of handling. I start another load of laundry, sit down at the computer and... am promptly interrupted by screaming from the other room, followed by whining and tattling, "Maaaaaaaaamaaaa..." "She did this." "She did that." Someone's plaything was stolen, someone's arm sports fingernail marks. You know that drill.
"That's it!" I yell. "I can't deal with this anymore. This is driving me crazy!" Not one of my finer moments, I realize even while yelling, "I'm selling you both to the gypsies!"
Pause. This is where it starts to get better. They're staring at me like I've lost my mind. Maybe I have. Maybe I need an attitude check as much as they do.
"Never mind," I say. "I'll go live with the gypsies. You two can stay here and keep screaming and making messes."
Four big eyes look at me.
"There's no real gypsies anymore, Mama... Are there," asks my five year old, brow furrowed.
"Yep. There are. And I'm going to live with them. I'm tired of trying to clean up all these messes by myself while you two scream and argue and make more messes." I am talking now, not yelling.
"Well, you're only allowed to take the clothes you're wearing," I am informed, in a stern tone.
I shrug. "Ok," I say.
"You'll have to wear them all the time, for the rest of your life. You won't have any clean ones to put on ever," she's using the serious voice still, but her brow has relaxed.
"Pssh. I can get new ones. I can make new ones. My new gypsy friends will let me borrow some of theirs until I get others." Somehow the mood is shifting. I think we all feel it.
"What if there's no gypsies your same size? And how will you buy new ones? You're not allowed to take any money. What will you eat." There's no more yelling, whining or toy-snatching going on. Seemingly by magic, where moments ago there was sibling rivalry and a frazzled mama there is now curiosity and imagination .
"There's lots of gypsies my size. I'll borrow some dancing clothes and scarves, and a pretty painted tambourine and a fancy hat. I'll dance and play the tambourine, and people who walk by will put money in the hat for me. I'll use that to buy food and new clothes, or fabric to make new clothes.Maybe I'll get a monkey and train it to dance too." I demonstrate, doing a little dance while shaking my imaginary tambourine.
Suddenly, we're story telling.
"You can take this with you, for when you make your clothes" she says, pointing to my sewing bust.
"No way," I say, "you keep it here. It's too big to carry. My back pack will be full, with my sleeping bag and my food and my first aid kit, and my monkey sitting on top."
As this tale of my life with gypsies unfolds, the toddler occasionally interjects, reiterating what the five year old and I say. In her signature fashion of creative grammar and emphatic speech, states, "you live gypeez!" and "you dance gypeez!" "You take seepin bag!? In yours pack pack!? Me. comin.' wis. you!?"
We go on to talk about how I don't like all the mess and angry noise that's been happening today, how they can stay here and make all the messes they want, and eat nothing but blueberries, granola bars, apple juice and yogurt if that's what they like, and scream and beat on each other if that's what they choose. The story evolves. We all end up living like gypsies, leaving the house to eat all the granola bars itself.
Eventually, we migrate to our living room, where they are inspired to help pick up the clutter in order to make room to create an obstacle course that involves intentional obstacles vs the the ones created in trying to avoid stepping on toys, dirty socks, and abandoned art projects. (It's too cold and windy outside for an outdoor course to be appealing to any of us right now.) They practice their jumping and somersaults while I sit and watch, and rest.
A playful story is so much more fun than screaming, and diffused the situation in a way yelling, ordering, punishing and bribery never would have. I'm not going to lie and say the rest of the day was amazing because of story telling or playful parenting genius. I will say that I think choosing to engage in a playful activity with my children rather than vent my exhaustion and frustration through yelling and punishing them for being kids took the evening in a better, healthier direction. And at least the living room was clean for a few minutes; long enough to set up an obstacle course.
***
Please take time to read the submissions by the other carnival participants:
- On being a more playful parent — Isil at Smiling like Sunshine shares how the Playful Parenting book impacted her.
- Parenting a toddler through play — Alicia at I Found My Feet lists some examples of how she uses play to parent through everyday tasks and challenges.
- Splashing in Puddles — Abbie at Farmer's Daughter shares how she learned to get dirty and have fun with her little boy.
- Say Please — Cassie at There's a Pickle in My Life explains how they taught their son manners by "play," showing that actions speak louder than words.
- No Nanny Needed — Laura at Our Messy Messy Life wishes parenting through play was her only responsibility during the day.
- I'll Run Away With Gypsies — Nikalee at Spotted Pandemonium maneuvers physical and emotional obstacles while spinning playful tales, jumping through hoops, and inspiring the kids to clean the living room.
- A Promise To My Daughter — Lindsey at An Unschooling Adventure writes a poem for her daughter promising to use play instead of anger when facing difficult situations.
- Parenting Through Play — Not Always Easy But Always Rewarding — Amy at Peace4Parents discusses how play hasn't always come easily to her, the power of appreciative observation, and how her family learns together through play.
- Imagination Plays a Role in Our Parenting — Tree at Mom Grooves shares how parents can use play to set the foundation for communication and understanding.
- A Box of Crayons — Jenn at Monkey Butt Junction talks about how a simple box of crayons has become a wonderful parenting and teaching tool.
- The Essential Art of Play — Ana at Pandamoly shares some of her favorite lessons available for young ones through play.
- The Art of Distraction — Amanda at Let's Take the Metro shares a list of distracting alternatives to harsh punishments in tough parenting situations.
- Grace and Courtesy Games at Home or School — Deb Chitwood at Living Montessori Now has ideas for grace and courtesy games that help you encourage courteous behavior without reprimanding your child.
- I am woman, hear me roar! — Mrs Green from Little Green Blog shares how one simple sound can diffuse an argument in an instant.
- Getting Cooperation Through Play — Amyables at Toddler In Tow talks about respecting the worldview of a preschooler by using play to encourage connection and cooperation.
- Playful Parenting = Extra Energy?? — Momma Jorje didn't think she had the energy for playful parenting. See what she was surprised to learn…
- Dance Party Parenting — Laura from A Pug in the Kitchen learned how to be the parent her children need through play.
- Wrestling Saved My Life — Wrestling is as vital to her son's well-being as babywearing once was, finds Hannah at Wild Parenting.
- Parenting through play — By playing with her children, Tara from MUMmedia is given amazing opportunites to teach, train and equip her children for life.
- Parenting Through Play Starts in Infancy — In a guest post at Natural Parents Network, Issa from LoveLiveGrow shares that though she only has a 3-month-old, playful parenting has already started.
- Play Before Sleep — Adrienne at Mommying My Way writes about how playing and singing with her son before he falls asleep helps calm her frustrations that tend to arise at night.
- Playful Parenting — Or 5 Lessons My Son Has Taught Me About Parenting Through Play — Charise at I Thought I Knew Mama has learned to be a better parent by following her toddler's lead in play.
- Hurry up! Hurry up! I mean it! Quack, quack, quack! — Kellie at Our Mindful Life leads a trail of ducklings
- On the Road: Learning to Play — Seonaid at The Practical Dilettante discovers her inner adult through a summer of playing with her children.
- Preventing Tantrums Through Play — Gaby at Tmuffin explains how she keeps her household happy by not taking things too seriously.
- Carnival of Natural Parenting: Parenting Through Play — Lily, aka Witch Mom, redirects unwanted behavior in a toddler using games and play.
- Exaggerating for effect — Lauren at Hobo Mama has learned how to ham it up.
- Handling Big Emotions with Role Playing — Zoie at TouchstoneZ plays at tempering her parental frustrations while helping her children handle some big emotions
- How To Herd Toddlers by Talking Pictorially — Jennifer at Hybrid Rasta Mama demonstrates how talking in pictures is a playful way to engage your young child in transitioning from one activity to the next.
- Getting a Toddler to Go Where You Want…Playfully — Sylvia at MaMammalia describes how a game of hide-and-seek can be used to steer a wandering toddler in the direction of her choosing.
- Playful Parenting: Chores That Do Themselves — Remember chores when you were a kid? If chores were this fun for Chante at My Natural Motherhood Journey, she wouldn't have needed any reminders!
- Clown School Express: Playing away Fears — MudpieMama describes how she helped her boys confront their fears about starting kindergarten by playing with trains.
- Practicing Playful Parenting — Terri at Child of the Nature Isle realizes that playfulness is the best way through the day and seeks more ways to practice it.
- Today, Tomorrow and Every Day — Starr at Taking Time addresses her children in a letter sharing with them how improtant it is that they spend their childhood playing.
- Learning Through Immersion — Luschka at Diary of a First Child shares how she helps her daughter develop naturally without focusing on teaching, but rather by immersing her in their family's way of life and making her an active part of her environment.
- Play Here Now — Jessica at Instead of Institutions learns and relearns and tries to remember the value of play.
- Play: A Wonderful Parenting Tool — Mamapoekie from Authentic Parenting offers a list of examples on how to use play in real-life parenting situations.
- Playful Parenting — a Book Review — Erica at ChildOrganics shares simple yet sage advice from Dr. Cohen on how play can change your child's life.
- Mock Threats: Turning Real Frustration into Playful Parenting — Threatening is not an effective discipline strategy, but Dionna at Code Name: Mama explains how parents can turn their frustration into playful moments by making "mock threats."
- I'm Sick of Yelling — I Want to Play — Alicia at McCrenshaw's Newest Thoughts realizes she needs to change the way she's parenting and is forming a new plan.
- Sing-along, Brush-along Songs — Shana at Tales of Minor Interest shares a few songs to make brushing her three-year-old's teeth more fun.
- Monster Voice — Ever have those frustrating moments with your kid(s) when you just want to scream? Amy at Anktangle shares a silly strategy for getting through those difficult times.
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