The Not Back To School Picnic

Last week was a whirlwind of activities! Monday greeted us with the annual Not Back To School Picnic in Central Park. Last year, P actively avoided any peers and then quickly fell ill with a high fever. This year's journey north was met with excitement, rather than trepidation, and we came home having happily played with friends, fever free...

Never a huge fan of holidays, as a mom, I'm actually starting to dig annual events. They provide such a perfect point of comparison. Last year, I was all worried about P's socialization (his wariness of kids combined with the vast public distrust of homeschooling was a potent combo for me). This year, his mind has exploded and I find my mind therefore much too busy to give a rat's ass what someone else thinks :) and he seems to have similarly found his social stride. Not that he was a Chatty Kathy on Monday, but he was glad to see his friends, to run with them and jabber with them... with me pretty nearby :)

P and a group of kids, inspecting a tree:



Which brings me to the sweet story of the day. We were exploring the mica mine again, this time with a few pals. As P loaded my hands full of treasure, I headed back to our bag to store the stuff. He said he'd stay with his buddies while I walked through the trees and across the open lawn. Once there though, I began to chat with a mom friend. For a minute, really, just a minute. Her son, who had been playing with P, skipped over and I asked him how P was doing. "Fine. He was crying." I loved his response :)

Half chuckling, half worried, I raced across the lawn to P, whom I found racing towards me. His face was dirt smeared as he flung himself onto me with a smile and a cry. We hugged and I asked questions. Apparently, after a minute of not seeing me, he grew worried and started to cry. His friends asked what'up and he told them... he had lost me :) And these sweet kids said, "Its ok. We'll help you find your Mama" as they escorted him back to our same spot on the lawn. The one we had been occupying as a group, all day ;) Thank god their object permanence is still in place :) I have to admit, its kinda adorable watching this strange stage play out.

So we stuck close to each other for the rest of the picnic and had oodles of fun. We've been doing a lot of leaf gathering for projects of late and P's buddy Des (the "Fine, he's crying" cutie) joined us on another nature hunt. Then there was more mica gathering until P's bag was overflowing.

Des, helping P find fab leaves:



We left at 5 o'clock to walk the 5 blocks to the sub stop, joined by another little friend, Lucia, and her Grandmother. An hour later, the two kids happily emerged from the overgrowth to enter the sub station. I kid you not :) Ahhh, well... While we were spending the day celebrating being out in the world and learning, instead of sitting at a stuffy desk, it just seemed silly to rush them home :)

The Little Camera Man

The kid loves to snap with the camera. And while he still hasn't figured out the whole personal space thing too well, he is, at least, starting to realize that where the flash is concerned, a little space is a lot better. So here is his Faces Photos series, with an added photo of "No," which he adored, just because he could read it :)

Swamp-mess

Last week, P woke up passionate about swamps. He hatched a plan to create a such a setting, in our house. I told him this made me nervous :)

I love four. Its not that I didn't love 0 - 4, its just, with a really, really focused kid, logic and empathy are a nice addition to the mix. And so he excitedly explained his plans, listening to my concerns (namely, flooding and disaster) and skipped off to manifest his wee mission...

All went well as he introduced BB to the swamp, to the alligators that lived in the swamp, the fallen tree BB could warily wander across only to, oops! plummet into the mire. Half of P's animal collection eventually joined the mix and the watery, muddy bin began to flirt with my comfort zone. But it was a fabulous natural lesson in volume...

Then, P wanted BB to swim down a waterway that led into the swamp. He thought it best to move that to the bathtub, "maybe, Mama, you wouldn't mind if I dumped the swamp into the bathtub? You could carry it in for me... I'll go start the water warming!"

At three, this would have been my breaking point. He would have thought me horribly inconsiderate not to sacrifice the building's plumbing for his potting-mix riverside jungle. (This is one of those times I thought about the ease of living in suburbia with a yard.) At four, he was able to eat a quick lunch, dreaming all the while, pack a bag of swamp toys, maliciously cackling to BB all the while, and skip to the park, singing all the while, in order to complete his task.

And so we spent a dreamy day using a natural water run in the park as a river. Fabulously located right by a drinking fountain, we could refill our river to P's heart's content and drown or scare BB as often as necessary. We were muddy from head to toe (especially after P realized how fun it was to jump in the wet mud) but compared to the mess it would have created in our flat, I felt pretty fortunate :)

P, post mud canoodle, hitting high berries with a stick:


A muddy Little man:

Washington Square

Despite my best planning, we never made it to the renovated fountain in Washington Square this summer for water play. Either we were there, sans swim trunks, or we were taking two days to travel two avenues; either way, it wasn't in the cards for us...

Until a couple weeks ago, when we found ourselves in the area with an hour to burn and a hankering for public music. Alas, we found the fountain was dead, drained for the coming cold. The Little Man actually thought this enhanced the experience, and happily collected a couple of pennies for his change bank. We'd just purchased a new set of watercolors at Dick Blick (where P's become a bit of a regular, he's eyeing the oils already...yay for his homeschool discount card!) and P carried his prized purple around the fountain with glee... Have I mentioned how unbelievably lucky I feel that I can hang out with my kid every day?

Happy Birthday, Ethan

I'm so far behind, (yah, still :) But I feel like I forget so much with all of the backtracking, so I'm skipping ahead and will toss in oldies when I can...


We celebrated E's birthday on Sunday. Its really crazy to see him get older. I remember, love struck, wishing him a happy 16th twenty one years ago......

P thought a good approach for future birthdays (starting, um, Sunday..) was for everyone to get gifts regardless of who's birthday it was. Slightly comical, since neither E nor I ever do gifts for our birthdays :) He formed this brainchild as he counted his pennies on the kitchen floor. Then he realized he could probably buy his own gift, there was such a Big pile of change to count. (His plan to make money by watching the sidewalks is working out pretty well. He finds loose change every day, and if that isn't enough, he merely asks random family members to donate spare change to his cause :) So he began trading quarters for "paper money." Then he worked his way through his dimes, nickels and pennies, "xchangin, BB, I'm xchangin my money for paper money from Mama."

Looking at his little pile of dough, he sighed, and said if only he had a big head. A wha? "A Big Head Mama. If only I had a Big Head, then I could use the Big Head and two Little Heads to buy that nail toy I want." P has been lusting after one of those old fashioned nail press games (where you push your hands against the nails and whalah! there's a hand print in the nails!). But he finally chose a dragon puppet last time he entered the toy store to purchase the nail toy... Yah, last time, when he entered the toy store with one twenty and two ones. Ahhh, one Big Head and two Little heads ;)

So I briefly mentioned that the numbers in the corners were typically how the paper money is differentiated, but he thought that was a bit silly and much preferred Big Heads and Little Heads. E popped out of the shower right then and he, apparently, looked ripe for the taking. ""Papa. Papaaaaa. I was wondering," said the Little Man, "if you would want to give me a Big Head for your birthday. I only need one, so that I can have one Big Head and two Little Heads."

I wish I would have gotten a pic of E's face :)

At any rate, E's birthday started with a trip to the toy store (which was out of the nail toy! P persevered though and found something to take its place, hehe.) And then we headed south to a cemetery.

I know, that doesn't sound so appealing on cyber paper. But its one of the city's most unused green spaces, and gorgeous to boot. E was feeling a need to get out of town (we had hoped to actually leave town for the weekend, but alas, that didn't happen) and I hoped this would at least feel like we were somewhere else. And it did.



It was gorgeous. Rolling hills, perfectly pruned trees, nooks and crannies to wander through. E felt like he was wandering somewhere in New England and I, therefore, felt like a successful wife, rather than an underachiever who hadn't gotten us out of town :) The Little Man felt like he'd died and gone to heaven, there were acorns and pebbles and the Most Enormous Pinecones he'd Ever Seen lying everywhere, just begging to be collected. And collect he did. Until his wee bag was overflowing...

P, wishing he could collect this spider web. So he insisted I take a picture. As I fairly failed at capturing the glint off of the web to his satisfaction (if you click the pic so its bigger, there's a partial web, but only a partial), P informed me that Aunt Alicia can photograph spider webs :) He seemed miffed that I would have a short coming, which truly tickled me...



We scooted back north through our hood, hanging out in a community garden, just enjoying the twilight, until our tummies rumbled. The day ended with a shared pumpkin cheesecake topped with a broken candle and an off tune serenade. E acted like he loved it. Which is just one more reason we love him. Our devoted, dashing, discerning, darling E. Our strong, semi-silent ;) super sensitive man, who chugs away every day to keep us afloat. My sun has risen and set with him for over twenty years, and I'm still excited (ridiculously so) to see him every evening. I know P only sees one sun in his sky right now (and I'm enjoying the hell out of my star status), but he's so amazingly lucky to have such a fabulous father (that will, one day I'm sure, eclipse me entirely in the Little Man's mind. And that's cool too :)

BB: hammered

Featured here, BB. Formerly known as Baby Brother. P's constant companion (in many, various forms: Imaginary BB, Paper BB, Diaper BB (don't ask), Little BB, BBLittle, Train BB, Beeswax BB, Big BB, Medium BB and Wet BB, each with their specific purpose. Lotta kids love Buzz Lightyear or My LIttle Pony. For P, its BB, all day long, all day strong.) If something happens, P tells BB. If P learns something, he teaches BB. If P gets something, he shows BB. If P gets hurt, so does BB. If P is scared of something, he puts BB through it.

If P is trying to figure out something novel to do with the new nail thingys Papa got for the internet cord, he thinks of BB. And I think this fairly well settles the sibling question...

The camera was just lying there...

I am, therefore I ham...

So, I was sick last weekend, and E was gone quite a bit. Bless the Little Man, he was amazing about keeping himself occupied until my fever broke. His usually constant requests for water or food or help were noticeably absent, replaced by his pitter patter running to the cupboards for himself :) And while he did invite me to play every 5 minutes or so, he was really understanding about my preference for just reading books :)

So he spent a lot of time at my side, on the couch, reading or just chatting with BB. Then he'd break to build towers. Back to the couch for cuddles and to tease BB. Rush off to make mayhem at the craft corner. Back for more cuddles. Towards the end of the day, he noticed the camera, just sitting there, all by its lonesome. So he decided to shoot some videos with which to entertain himself...

I warn you, its ridiculously silly, but semi-short (I'm only showing one of the four he shot, each one progressively longer and louder...) And, ummm, the time where it goes all wonky and then dark? That's his tush. I dunno, he's four....

Mentoring, Mama moods and moving on...

P's been in a serious Mama Mood for the last two months. Not that he hasn't always preferred closeness (I can hear my mom chuckling, "Well, you wanted him "attached"!"), but it waxes and wanes. In fact, there was a while, in the spring, when he'd joyously join his father in the park each evening, leaving me a silent house for dishwashing. For a solitary sorta gal, it was a pretty luscious era - and the boys liked it too :)

But to every summer there is a fall :) And it gets me thinking. Independence, honestly, is a national obsession in the States. We push our babies out of our beds, off of our breasts, into the world without us, often amidst their teary objections, in hopes of creating self-sufficient adults. E and I have basically bypassed this cultural clutter so far, knowing the Little Man to be the sort to demand independence when independence is due. And we've carried and co-slept when it wasn't due. So it was interesting to watch this much heralded independence bloom (climax actually :) in Colorado. He would wander out of the cabin solo, even slept separately (in his sleeping bag on the floor) a few nights, and just generally needed me less. (This begs a comparison to the thoughts in "The Continuum Concept" and the natural inclination of our species to roam in a herd of extended family members, which was magically mimicked on our mountain vacation...) Returning to Kansas, he was likewise happy to bound out the door unaccompanied or set off in search of Grams whenever he wanted. His independence was slightly subdued there, but still bubbling around the surface...

Expand, contract, wax and wane, come and go. His flow changed :) I've wondered if there was a specific moment that moved the tide. Like I've said before, he typically takes two steps forward, one step back, with each major development. And moving away from Mama, even just a bit, is a big step for the Little Man, so its a good possibility the last two months have been his step back :)

That said, always over-analyzing here, there's a few prominent possibilities about his recent moon movement. I mean, perhaps he was simply ready for space, and now he's not. But then again, his father was around a lot in the spring, and now he's not (working a ton.) Similarly, he was surrounded by family in Kansas and Colorado, like a big safety net of love lulling him, and now he's not. Maybe the afternoon I had to leave him behind in Kansas (with his Father, Grandfather and Uncle - three men to surround him with love and attention) did a number on his little head. (My natural inclination towards guilt, of course, leans towards this possibility, but then again, maybe not...) Maybe he needs to feel that enormous safety net from massive family surroundings again, but then again, maybe not....

Because when he has been surrounded by family in Brooklyn recently, or supported by his Papa in the last two months, he hasn't been stepping out. Family visited this month and P stayed on high alert, keeping track of my every move. He wouldn't scoot away with Seth, or run too far off with Alicia. Even Grandpapa's magic wasn't enough. He won't stand for E's and my trades. (Used to be, E and I would do a trade on the weekends. I'd leave for two hours and return centered, ready for E to go do the same. P wasn't ever exactly fond of this arrangement, but he wasn't set against it either. And then, he was :)

So, maybe it wasn't him simply missing such a huge blanket of love, since even family didn't cut the mustard this month. My evolving theory is that it was a developmental quirk combined with a longing for the love blanket. There were some signs for this. He wasn't staying dry all night anymore. He had a sudden fear of monsters. The dark. Strangers. Noises from the fridge, the hall, out the window. He would become hysterical if he lost sight of me. This, from a kid who isn't jumpy or too easily dismayed. And it was, seemingly, such disproportionate misery too, lacking in any logic. It was like living with a baby without object permanence; if I turned the corner too quickly at the hardware store.... I was just gone :)

We rearranged the house. Moved a table with a light next to the (monster) closet and left it burning bright. Added a lamp to the bathroom. Switched the playroom and the dining room (which had been open to the kitchen) so that P could feel safe playing while I cooked or cleaned. I showered less and made sure P could hold my hand as much as he wanted :) E suggested we keep up our trades, but P declined. So we worked it out, the Little Man doing his best to give me space on Saturdays at the dining room table, while he rough housed in the playroom with E... with the door between us open, and frequent check-ins :)

(Just a quick aside here. I can only imagine how many eye rolls this journal entry is garnering:) Just leave yer kid already, lady!!! After all, kid's P's age are routinely in school, they sleep alone (that's why there are night-lights, duh!) Many families enjoy babysitters or nannies or date nights. Much like I mentioned in the curriculum post, every family makes the choices that are right for them (I'm just silly enough to post ours for family and friends to frown upon:) Really trusting and really listening to each other is the path this family has chosen, even when it means creating space in which monsters can be forgotten or unnamed fears can be tamed. I know that some worry that providing kids with this sacred space will scar them for life, leave them limping alongside their mothers for, like forever :) And while that thought occasionally seems plausible ;) (monkey clinging 4 year old, anyone?) I know families for which this trust thing has "worked," giving me faith in our philosophical fantasies :)

So, after being by his side nonstop for weeks and weeks, I would have thought I'd be drained empty. But, kinda surprisingly, we've had a fantastic time. As his needs escalated, we had a long chat. Did he feel safe, what did he really need? Bottom line? "Just you, Mama." :) He loves me best, I'm the most fun, I, um, smell good... the list was long and comical, but basically, I ... was even better than BB. Well, now, that puts it all into perspective :)

So I promised to do my best to meet his need to be with me. And I reminded him that Mamas have needs too. Sometimes for quiet in their head, sometimes for sleep... He got it quickly, we've had tons of discussions in the past about me needing food or the bathroom (back in the day, when we'd be playing on the floor and he'd fall apart as I finally hobbled to the loo:) I asked him to do his best to respect my needs as I work to hold his in my heart.

E, ever the devoted husband, has tried to nudge me out our door more than once during this period (part hero, part self-preservation - he didn't want me to go nutso :) Somehow, this appears to have opened a different sort of door for P. Seeing E's offers gently refused, P seems to recognize my devotion, perhaps proving to him that the safety net is intact, regardless of whatever shook it a couple of months ago. And he's returning this devotion ten fold.

For example, one day, we returned from a long afternoon and I was over-worn. I slumped down while P bounced around, suggesting our next course of action. I told him I wasn't feeling well, I needed just a minute. "What can I do to help, Mama?" I smiled and told him I'd be fine, I just needed a seat and a snack. "Let's do it! How about some honey-o's and milk, Mama? Does that sound nice? Here, sit down and I'll get it for you. No, really, just sit, I've got it!"

He pats my cheeks, runs up to give me kisses and tell me he loves me, apologizes thoughtfully, and he really, really hears me when I start a sentence with "I need...." His recent anxieties seem to be inversely related to his relationship skills. He typically doesn't seem angry anymore when we disagree. He, fairly calmly, keeps chugging, problem solving, often even smiling, connecting. Which is really, really exciting. One of my greatest parenting goals is to mentor peaceful resolution (thank gawd mentors can also mentor what its like to screw up :) I yearn for P to grow up disagreeing, even adamantly so, but without becoming disconnected from those he disagrees with; to talk to hear.

But the best is at night. His heightened anxieties leaked into the darkness. At least five times a night, he'd roll over and grab my hand, cuddle up to me, announce his latest dream, worry over a nightmare, ask a question, anything, anything to connect. But all of these interruptions started with "I'm sorry to wake you, Mama. You might be sleepy, but, blah blah blah..." and ended with "Ok, Mama, I love you, goodnight."

And then last night, having just fallen sick (ahhh, winter is coming, dammit!!!) I was trudging about, getting things ready for bed (E was gone). The Little Man watched me, asking why I was shaky :) Then, as we laid in bed to read, he rolled over, placed his little palm on my forehead and said, "Oh, Mama. You're burning up. I'm so sorry you're sick," pat, pat, cheek kiss, "maybe some sleep with help?"

Honestly, the kid has been so sweet you'd think he's been coached or something! All of these years, I've bought the mentoring story, often on the seeming solidity of the theory alone. Cuz sometimes, as I watched my two year old throw his dinner onto the floor (an action he had Never seen mentored;) I'd quietly question our approach. I'd mentor dropping a ball instead, knowing I couldn't fight his interest in gravity, but jeesh... And now I'm sold on the stuff. We've never told P to apologize, yet he does it with heart. He would consistently say "thank you" to others if he wasn't so uncomfortable (yet happy and excited) when he receives a gift - he always thanks E and I. We've never told him to give us kisses or hugs or help, and yet he does. He is so invested in this "following phase" of his existence right now, you can literally see him alter approaches slightly, just based on watching us, following us, with his eyes. Needless to say, that's some serious pressure on parents to be good and fair and patient...um, all of the time? Well, at least we get to naturally mentor apologies too :)

So, its been constant, but its also been constantly wonderful :) And then I could see the tide turning again. P started chatting with everyone and anyone again (poor checkout clerks at the co-op!) The UPS guy could hardly get back down the stoop ("I hope to see you again sometime! Bye! BYE! I hope you have a nice day!!!") P was again kosher with being down the lane from me on the busy produce aisle. He rode his papa's shoulders without straining down to hold my hand.

And then, this week, a dear friend had a book reading (check out "Crossing Washington Square," I just started it, but its a great read!) I insisted I go. P insisted he tag along. I suggested he head to the kid's section with E if he grew restless, without much attachment to that outcome ;)

Nevertheless, after listening intently, then crawling around quietly, and eventually growing restless enough to stage whisper ;) he agreed to head downstairs and meet everyone's need for a respectful audience. After the reading, as I chatted with some of my favorite mom friends, margaritas were mentioned. Wow, adult conversation! (Not to diminish the Little Man's oh so interesting discourse, of course:) Once again, P wasn't necessarily fond of this idea, but he didn't instantly fall apart either....and actually skipped away with his father :)

Ahhh, with a little patience, the tides turned again, the quirk worked its way through, the blanket's tear was sewn, and I write this now while P happily wrestles Papa in a different room;)

And so we spent an evening apart, sans tears or trauma. Despite doomsday predictions, we wont' be suction cupped to one another for forever. In all likelihood, he'll be gone much too soon....

Happy Birthday Grams!!!

I love my mom So Much. She's my best friend, a fantastically devoted mother and an absolutely amazing grandmother. P and I wish we were there today to spoil her (though she hates the fuss :) I thought P's shining face might put an extra bounce in her birthday step, so... (Note: the board eventually says Happy Birthday, but the shoddy quality of online media failed us here! Ah, well...)

Happy Birthday Gramsie-Grams!

Gap Dip

After P's blast of reading skills a couple of months ago, his interest in personally conquering new books went by the wayside. We're still at the library once or twice a week and reading, sometimes for over 3 hours, every day, but he didn't want to be the one doing the reading. But he was asking questions. "What does that say, Mama? What about that?"

Questions prompted more and more words, words went up on his chalkboard for him to "learn," but he was still just a passive participant, asking more and more questions and never relaying his thoughts. Then he pulled out his letter blocks a lot and tried to align them into words. He'd walk around the house saying "Rat. Rrrrrr-at. Rrrrrrrrrrr-aaaaaaat," audibly figuring out how the letters string together. Something big was brewing, something to add onto the mere memory words he'd achieved with the early reader books...

Then he pulled out his chalk a couple of weeks ago and started writing. It was so fun to watch. He had asked me to spell words for him a few times before, but this time he sat there making word sounds and then writing the accompanying letters. Some of the words he chose were relatively easy to get "right." Gap, Dip etc. Some were a little more tricky. Teepee was "TP." Zebra was "zbra" (written, interestingly, in perfect mirror, right to left. And I checked - its not a sign of dyslexia (E's worry) merely a sign that he hasn't completed his brain development in left to right alignment - normal until after 6 and then a "sign.") He was really pleased with himself and spent a large chunk of the afternoon sounding out words and reading them to BB.

While he isn't reading Faulkner's "The Bear" these days (or even the Bernstein Bears:) this new puzzle piece seems to have given him the boost he needed to start drawing! He realized he could create something that reasonably approximated what he wanted ("Look, Mama! There's a "G!" I made a G!") and, coupled with the new craft corner, he's a drawing fool. He draws and paints with intense focus for a while and then has BB come by to buy some of his work (pretending he is an artist, working in Central Park. :) Most of his works feature... Colorado, of course :)

Little Oliver

I'm a music maker. Not by trade, no, definitely not :) By habit. Its been that way as far back as I can remember, a compulsion to sing, hum, whistle, rhyme. Unfortunately, talent doesn't flow out these lips, yet they habitually make sound, typically without me even realizing it. I married aptly, as the Schultz family is like me... on crack :) They add general noise making (tapping, patting, absent minded bottle scrunching, you name it) and movie quoting to the whistling and singing.

So P was a goner from the genetic get go. Thusly, his mouth is pretty much always moving too. Typically its random, rhyming; rhythmic rowdiness etc. But this week, he picked up a new showtune :) I was dying to get it on video, but he's way too self conscious for that to happen. And then he decided he wanted to trick BB into thinking that the Little Man was actually Oliver. BB would watch P on video, singing Oliver's song, and be massively confused :)

Yup, there's always noise and plots in this house :)

Curriculums and Gardens

I've been thinking a lot about "curriculums" the past month (so you'll be hearing a lot about curriculums for the following month :) Its all the rage on the homeschool boards come August. Companies, free web site links, blog links with ABC games outlined, "necessary" projects galore. Everyone is preparing for the coming "school" year. At first, I skipped those posts. We un-school, there's no upcoming school year :) But a few weeks of them started to wear me down. I'm a new homeschooler, after all :) Sure, I've done my "homework." I've read the child development books, the learning studies, the homeschooling manuals and unmanuals, the pros the cons the praises the moans. And, like all things in every parent's life, I've chewed on it and spit out what resembles a true answer for my family. But, wait, my answer is different than your answer? And yours? And yours too? Hmm, did I get the right answer??? (I went to school, after all, and there was always a right answer there :) Blend that in with a slightly type A, research bent personality that always wants to be doing the right thing and everything gets chewed twice in this house :)

Then a dear unschooling friend chose a curriculum. True, its less curriculum, more (groovy sounding) homeschool lifestyle, but it was still a wake-up call. We're outnumbered. This was the last chink in my armor. I started reading the curriculum posts more carefully and quizzed her on her choices. Then I chewed again.

And I've come to the same conclusion that parents everywhere came to, eons before me :) There are many right answers. Curriculums work for some families, for some they don't. Some home schoolers get up and do math from 9 to 10, some are still asleep at 10.... I'm thinking all kids would be happy peaches curriculum free, following their heart's, but that doesn't necessarily translate to working for the entire family.

So I skim the project posts sometimes, I occasionally even bookmark some (there aren't all mind numbing, some are pretty inspirational) for a rainy day, a day when P is less, well, P. Because I rather like projects and I rather liked worksheets at times :) But not P. And I'm feeling pretty comfy entering the new "school year" sans school. Its what works- for our family. And when I get to the posts describing bags of different length noodles that kids are to arrange from shortest to longest while saying "shortest, longer, longer, longest!" I quickly skip to the next post :) Obviously, this kind of project works for this family and that's fabulous. This mother needs to feel that she is actively providing her sprout with curriculum appropriate projects. This kid is mellow enough that such instruction doesn't leave his jaw hitting the floor. But over the last few weeks, I've come to terms with the fact that this lovely homeschool vision is not the picture of this Brooklyn family.

My kid's jaw would be opened in a great big yawn. Busy work bores him to no end. Worksheets? Blah. Step by step crafts? No way (unless directed by cute little Suzy at the Mulberry Street Library, that is!!!) Additionally, he has inherited his father's disdain for authority and his parents' creative cravings. So, if I'm in the driver's seat, he wants me to pull over. Quickly. If he's in the driver's seat, he's driving down the road that most holds his interest, learning everything in that path....and you better move out of the way :)

So instead of some choreographed project on lengths, P ends up comparing sticks in the park. Shortest to longest. Or maybe fattest to skinniest. Naturally and impulsively in the dirt, because its an age appropriate discovery he finds innately interesting. On the list of "kindergarten curriculum tasks" this year are a few "math-ish" concepts (shortest to longest among them). A four year old should be discovering x. I'm guessing what's on this list is solidly based in what the average four/five year old naturally wonders about x :) Its what's age appropriate for the masses. (Which, of course, begs the question, what about the kids that don't fit in with the masses?)

Like back in Kansas. P was working on division one day due to some deviled eggs. (My mother makes the most divine deviled eggs, seriously.) P was counting how many were left the next day for lunch, 6, and deciding how many we could each have. Without seeming to do any math, he declared we could both have three. Not brain surgery, I'll admit, but hearing him say "There are six eggs and two of us, so we can both have three, Mama" certainly felt brainy at the time. Then he remembered Papa was joining us for lunch and revised his answer, saying we could each have two. This isn't difficult math, (even for me:) but for this four year old its a (relatively) new concept: how to divide a number into equal parts. But I don't think this is on the "list" until next year - maybe I should have thwarted him ;) Meanwhile, he seems to just now be really understanding chronological order in numbers. He gets the counting bit, he gets how the counting relates to objects, but the numbers as abstracts themselves, are newly interesting to him. He quizzes BB, what comes after 6. When BB properly replies, "Hmmm, what comes after 6..." P quietly counts to himself, "1,2,3,4,5,6...7..." and then announces much more loudly, "7, BB, 7 comes after 6." This, of course, seems extremely Unbrainy, but its where he is ;) regardless of that list for the masses. And I, personally, am uncomfortable hanging expectations and external definitions around the little guy's neck right now instead of letting him have fun with numbers and long sticks.

Smelling the flowers:


Watching the reflexion:


I realized when we went to the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens a couple of weeks ago, it could have been a veritable sensory lesson, dripping with quizzes of finding examples of the five senses and their aligning body parts. Or it could have been a botany lesson, a history of bonsai trees lesson... But we were just having fun :) Imagining BB to live in one of the Bonsai trees, who's history was then intimately important to P, reading names of cacti to satiate the Little Man's curiosity, feeling the scratchy leaves, smelling the mint, seeing the water reflections, tasting our snack, listening to the birds and the, wait, what's that? A marching band?

And so, curriculum free, strapped to no agenda or unfinished worksheets, we left our sensory paradise and chased down a sound that interested us. And lo and behold, there was a huge marching band, practicing outside a school, the sound bouncing off of the high buildings, creating a massive amount of noise.

P loved it, but it was LOUD:



But as far as "unschooling" this year, I plan on making a minimal amount of noise. Pretty much everyone P hangs with is following a curriculum, and some are openly wary that unschooled kids can learn "what they are supposed to." Like I said before, everyone does what works for their own family. I just hope nobody makes too much noise about what works for our family ;)

Meanwhile, I'm going to make a little unschooling noise here, on this blog, and I apologize in advance to all family members that occasionally read and are bored to tears on the subject. I know, I know, more videos, more pics, less yap :) But as I've researched curriculums and unschooling etc, its been really helpful to me to hear how it works, or doesn't, for other families. There's some fantastically interesting approaches out there! Ours is none too interesting, but for any homeschoolers searching cyber space for answers, I want this to be a place they can hear how it works for one family, one kid, no curriculum.

Swimming with Uncle Shane and Uncle Tom

Our dear friends, Shane and Tom, live in a beautiful building overlooking the city. To top it off, there's a pool :) They sweetly invited the Little Man over and he counted the days until the weather and Papa's back all cooperated.

Then, when we popped of of the Path train to Jersey, it was suddenly pouring. Wha?? But the swim gods were with us, and the weather quickly turned around. So, after frightening the resident kitty with zealous enthusiasm, P parked by the pool and enjoyed the view.



The Little Man adores seeing Shane and Tom (though he has a mysterious inability to remember their names when in their presence.) Part of this is that Uncle Shane has retained an adorable boyhood charm (sometimes called orneriness....) that fits in very naturally when interacting with a four year old :) So those two jumped in the pool and teased one another, Shane warning about his pool monster status, Phoenix loving the game, but not quite sure (gullible seed falling very close from the gullible father tree...) if Shane really could be a pool monster :) Then I pulled P along the pool with a noodle until he was chilly and ready to bother the Uncles again.



As we prepared to leave, P tried to stretch things out as long as possible. Then I heard him ask the Uncles if he could have something to remember them by. Wha?? As my cheeks flushed a deep hue, P was offered something by Tom.... that he turned down :) I tell ya, I love the honesty of four, but jeeeesh. Somehow retaining composure, Uncle Shane presented the Little Man with a soft owl, which was readily accepted as an acceptable remembrance. Phew ;)

P's told me since how the Universe is looking out for him :) The request for a home-made owl had crossed my desk a few times and I had yet to produce the goods. Then it just dropped (prompted by a very forward request, of course) into P's hands, much to his great joy.

Carting his owl, dubbed Owly (after the title character of the Andy Runton graphic novels P adores), back to Brooklyn, P chatted about his fun day, asking if Uncle what's their names could play again soon :) Then, after playing with the owl for a few days, he seemed to feel a weight associated with having taken it. He thought Uncle Shane might be missing it, wishing he hadn't given it away (this has happened to P before. He often gives something to visitors leaving our home, and occasionally gives something he really likes. While he never regrets the friend getting the gift, sometimes he does talk about how we could get him another one :) So he decided we'd make Uncle Shane a new owl and P would sew a kitty shaped bag to present it in. So, the owl order is sitting on my desk again :)

Click Clack Moo

Theatreworks (free summer theater) performed Click, Clack, Moo this year. P really, really enjoyed the book, so we joined other homeschoolers for the show. Twice :)

It was adorable and enjoyable and well done all around. P sat, mesmerized, through both performances. When E later asked P what he loved about the show, the kid replied, "Everything!" But one slight of hand interested him the most. To depict the farmer traveling from his farmhouse to his barn, the character drives his tractor behind a backdrop of hills, on which pops up a photograph of said character and tractor. This miniature (think popsickle stick shadow puppet) then moves across said hills. When the cut-out gets to the other side of the backdrop, it drops down and the farmer pops out from behind. A cute addition, thinks the adult. Meanwhile, the four year old thinks about this trick for days. Then he finally asked how the farmer shrinks when he goes behind that screen. I asked him what he thought and, though he had no thoughts on the matter, he did say he'd like to "get one of those screens, Mama." :)

After each show we wandered up to Magnolia Bakery for a cupcake (it was just a few blocks away and seemed like a sin to miss :) Unfortunately, our diets are just a tad too healthy to really enjoy such a sugar laden treat. The first trip there found the better part of both of our confections in the trash. Adored, but uneaten. The second stop, we decided just to share one and actually did it justice over the course of the afternoon...

Speaking of the course of the afternoon, after our first showing I had a stop in the Washington Square fountain planned. It was a ridiculously hot day and water seemed required. So we wandered that way after our treat, leaving us about three hours of playtime before meeting E after work. My back was extremely frustrated and I was having trouble helping P on our (relatively) short journey to the park. The Little Man was equally frustrated and unusually unwilling to walk or scoot unassisted (we hadn't brought our typical wheels, as the theater didn't allow them indoors. And for some reason, the Little Man kept twisting and turning and jumping and braking the tiny scooter he insisted I push. It was one back tweak too many and I think my sudden inability had him dumbfounded.) We chatted about it amicably at first, each explaining our needs and validating one another's limitations. But, in the end, it was a wash. He insisted he wouldn't (couldn't) walk a step (after, of course, dramatically dragging his little toes for an avenue) and I insisted his request was more than I could provide at that time.

After the dramatic dragging, I bent down to give him some love. And he just melted. I could tell he was so sad to be getting so big. That I had been able to do everything for him for his whole life and now there are times I am unable. And this broke his little heart. E hit the nail on the head when he said that P thinks he's a little grown-up - both because he sees himself as our equal and because he doesn't have to ever grow up if he's already there...

After the catharsis, he was almost ready to brainstorm again. It was slightly odd to see him so unmovable (he typically comes up with fabulously creative solutions), but perhaps it was a reaction to my strong opposition to dragging that tiny scooter anymore amidst braking and bouncing. We finally settled on him steering, solidly balanced, while I gently nudged his back forward. He was reticent to give an inch, but relented to try out our only remaining option, as we were officially stranded on the streets of the city :) When it worked well, he grinned big, only to instantly recover such silliness and remind me that this was not what he preferred. Ahh, the subtle nuances of problem solving between two people...

And these subtle nuances ate up our entire three hours :) Yup, three hours and two avenues, not a very good track record, to be sure. But there was so much more progress than just those two avenues that afternoon. Especially for me. Sometimes I still find it so difficult to just stop, and really listen to P. To quiet the nagging voice that says (or screams:) "He can walk. He's just being Difficult." Cuz, really, the kid's feet were working. But it wasn't really his feet that needed extra help, it was his heart. And pushing his feet would have hurt his heart even more. But that's a challenge for me to remember, while I sit, sweating, on a hot sidewalk. If there had been a Pinkberry to pop into, anything to distract him from the determined trench he had dug out of his disappointment, it would have been an easy afternoon of park play. But, as luck would have it, we were on two avenues of nothin'. What are the chances in NYC? This urban desert provided us with a really fertile spot to figure though, and for that I was thankful.

When we next went to Click, Clack, Moo a few weeks later, with the same dinky scooter, P seemed to instantly remembered our previous trip. We hadn't had an issue since that long afternoon, but when he saw me cart those wheels down the stoop he slumped on the stairs and said, "I can't walk today." Its amazing how an "issue" can arise from one teeny afternoon of angst, even peaceful angst :)

Fortunately, my back was back, and I merely grinned and grabbed the kid up in my arms. As he floppy fished himself at the sub stairs, I swept him up again, watching what was apparently pent up upset fade slightly away. He continued his funk until we reached the theater, when he again requested to be held. As I cuddled him close he finally relaxed, leaned away to see my face better, and grabbing it between his two hands excitedly told me "I love you, Mama!"

Nothing big, in and of itself. He says that all the time these days. And some would translate this as a four year old's pleasure at getting what he wants. But the real sentiment was there. The one that said, "So, you aren't going to desert me? You will go to the ends of the earth for me? I'm still your little boy?" Sheesh, I have to wonder, where is the trust after all of these years? :)



After the show, we played at a nearby park with some other AP kids (P's favorite friend, Abby, was there) and the Little Man had a blast. Crisis averted, apparently, until the next time the Little Man realizes he's actually growing up....

The Met

P was unusually excited (a few weeks ago - so behind, so very behind!) to visit the roof of the Met, after hearing Aunt Alicia describe the gorgeous sculpture gracing the top floor, and thus we had a field trip....

As the museum has an anti-scooter stance, and schlepping the child throughout the monstrosity would do me in, I pulled the stroller out of storage... and the Little Man's eyes shown bright. He happily slumped into said stroller, getting so comfy he felt no need to un-sit for the stairs to the subway. Which reminded me of why the damn thing had gone into storage in the first place...

The Little Man has never been that into the Met. Perhaps he feels my focus pulled ever so slightly away (all of that Art!!!) Maybe its the size... I dunno. He loves it for a bit and then he's just done. This time, we were there all afternoon. And happily so.

Look at that temple!!!



We landed a kid's map upon arrival, which is brilliance in a paper package. He kept this prize in his hot little hand alllll afternoon:)



It marks the museum by major artworks, giving P the upper-hand in direction decision making. He could pick and point to whatever struck his fancy, and then search for landmarks as we wandered. Fun and amazingly productive for his little brain. I was flabbergasted by the sheer brilliance of the game we had fallen into. (We've manufactured a less brilliant, watered down version at home before, but this was amazing! Typically, we draw a map of our house, hide P's treasure chest, mark the map with a pin and let BB try and find the treasure. Its always a good challenge for BB, since P has started to purposefully put the pin in the wrong location. Otherwise, its just too easy for the poor pink monster to complete his task :) This was treasure hunting on a grand scale with a detailed map. He was solidifying his understanding of directions, translating two dimensional images into the three D world; map reading skills were blooming, synapses were firing, fun was occurring :) So, the day went something like this: "There's the big cat! Ok, Mama, go that way, on to the sarcophagus! Oh! There's the sarcophagus, turn left! No, right! Yes! Turn! No, not now! Turn, yes! Now go until I see the, yes, there it is!"

Needless to say, a lot of tourists got a good chuckle that day:)

Two of P's favorites below. He spend an enormous amount of time wandering and wondering about the armor area. His most burning questions: What if they needed to scratch their noses? What if they needed to go potty?



His main question here was if he could climb the darn thing. (duh:) He actually had me ask a guard. The guy then made P's day by telling him he should try it in October, when its not so hot so he doesn't burn his hands. You can bet its on P's calender....


We left (before P was even requesting an exit) to meet E for dinner. Jumping a bus heading south with crazy lucky timing left us with a while to ramble through Central Park. And, as it always is with that park, it was lovely moment after lovely moment. First, the jazz band that thrilled P, then the fiddler, swaying in front of a perfect climbing rock. What? Combine a violin (really, really beautifully played too, double stops to beat the band, gorgeous stuff!) and a rock and the kid is in heaven :)

P, peeking at the master taking a break:



Days like this really remind me how much I love life learning!

Fam-fabulous

Hacky sack in the city...

I still have lots of catching up to do on our summer adventures, but had to mention that Grandpapa and Uncle Ian are in town for the long weekend. In typical Schultz style, this means we are moving en masse, celebrating family. Its tons of fun and the Little Man is, per usual, perfectly content to soak up the attention of seven doting adults....

All eyes on the prize, just the way P prefers:



P catches a self-portrait with Grandpapa; his short arms, armed with a bright flash, blinds them both :)

Portrait of an Artist at Work

P's ever widening repertoire now includes digital art :) E, ever excited to introduce his child to his passion (computers) happily purchased a little computer for the Little Man thru one laptop per child, a really groovy charity. P digs the paint program.

Moonlight Movies

We don't have a TV and have given up videos for now (consensual family decision), but thought it would be fun to enjoy one of NYC's free outdoor movie nights. Set along the west side of the city, right on the water, a Muppets movie was playing on a Friday night. So we grabbed E after work and walked towards the beautiful breeze...

There are so many magic moments living here, and this was definitely one of them. The lights danced off of the water, the tree we sat under quietly swished overhead, all while the Muppets blared on a big screen down front. Full disclosure: I've always disliked (bordering on despised) the Muppets. Even as a small child, I remember feeling like I'd rather watch... the news, anything, instead of that annoying pig and idiotic bear. But it was certainly more appropriate than most of the other outdoor offerings, and P might just think that frog is fabulous, so....

I can't say he was completely captivated by the film (and yes, I kept my disdain to myself!). But the experience as a whole thrilled him. He enjoyed sitting outside in the dark, he loved watching the planes come and go, counting the helicopters, tapping his toes to the (annoying, sorry ;) music. Afterwards, he was jazzed to stay out. He felt he had achieved something magical. having experienced the dark for so very long :) This will be a much easier magic to replicate, now that the dark is arriving so much earlier!

As we left the park, he spotted a sculpture and ran to look. He then went from pumped to pathetic and happily zonked as he was carried home....

Beating the Heat

We've really only been hit with a couple weeks of heat this summer (the cool evenings are arriving a little too soon for my taste!) but those few weeks were hot in this top floor, flat roofed apartment. So we hit the beach or a park with water and happily splashed the heat away...

Although we'd been to Teardrop park before and loved it, we hadn't visited when the water was on. Meeting fellow unschoolers there a few weeks ago, P had a grand time playing in the practically empty fountains. He also started a mad search for fossils in the rocky walls. And sent berries downstream. And then BB downstream :)



We eventually moseyed through a tunnel to a gorgeous green space ringed in rocks. These, of course, had to be climbed :) Sometimes P's precarious positions unnerve me, but its getting easier as he gets older. And I'm bound and determined to keep any nervous nellie tendencies to myself :) Fortunately, he's getting pretty good at figuring out his own comfort limits, which helps mine enormously!

Summer in the Parks

The Parks department of NYC has fabulous offerings for kids all summer long. P was thrilled this included the Central Park marionettes doing a free show in Union Square. So off we went (I never get tired of typing that phrase - after so many years of seeming house arrest with this kid :), in an attempt to actually get somewhere by (gasp!) noon :) (Along with our late rising status runs an intense need for the Little Man to have adequate time to greet the world (through toy play ;) before heading out into the wider world... Making 2 pm our usual landing time anywhere...

So, it was understandable that we arrived just in time... to be at the very back of the very large crowd. Thus, I have no pics of P enjoying the show, as I was holding him on my shoulders the whole production. But I got some shots of the show, per P's instructions. It was a really sweet rendition of Sleeping Beauty, featuring Central Park and multi-cultural fairies. P was riveted the entire hour and immediately asked when it was over if we could see it again :)