tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11756847694767816392024-03-15T18:10:08.792-07:00Organized ChaosA think tank focused on creative solutions for future problem solvers.
-Ann-Bailey Lipsettorganized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.comBlogger1740125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-65331960441955985802021-08-11T14:26:00.001-07:002021-08-11T14:26:00.220-07:00Parenting in the Parks: Exploring the Wind Cave National Park, South Dakota<p> W<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">hen we were planning our itinerary for our South Dakota adventures I had chosen the Wind Cave merely because it was close by Mount Rushmore and the Badlands and because it was in my “Secrets of National Parks” book. It sounded like a good opportunity - an underground cave underneath the earth and opportunities to roam the prairie and mountains above the cave. Not to mention chances to stop and watch the prairie dogs do their thing. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghVCVRtW7MjmglGJ56ZGtO6vQIZf2FuDQ9XDan1hcgqqqjgjnkfui4aGS38yFCOwrsYzJqEdlt8jl-kVyjJ_aKxmlQ4xDuEVOsrB-s9CS27VsNYgyyiq7X4PzJsLCsX0DhPFj7GTdtaAzX/s2048/IMG_1769.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghVCVRtW7MjmglGJ56ZGtO6vQIZf2FuDQ9XDan1hcgqqqjgjnkfui4aGS38yFCOwrsYzJqEdlt8jl-kVyjJ_aKxmlQ4xDuEVOsrB-s9CS27VsNYgyyiq7X4PzJsLCsX0DhPFj7GTdtaAzX/s320/IMG_1769.HEIC" width="240" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br />Although nothing compares to the Badlands themselves, the Wind Caves are a great park. We took the hour long tour of inside the caverns and marveled at the creation of the cave. Being from Virginia we have gone into numerous caves as a family, but none with such intricate boxwork markings along the walls. The 54 degrees under the earth was a relief from what we felt above us and the ranger seemed to have the perfect balance of giving adults interesting facts and information while also keeping the children amused. To be fair, our children were participating in the Bingo Board at this point, so part of our enjoyment may have been our children’s lovely behavior. It is always a relief when it is not YOUR child who is fighting over who gets to push the button.</span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We came out of the cave, ate our packed lunches at a table in the shade, and gave the girls time to finish up their junior ranger books. Reading the room, we decided to not repeat our eventful hike of the day before and instead drive to Hot Springs, South Dakota to see the Mammoth Museum before driving back through the Wind Cave to complete the parents’ desired hike. What can I say? We do learn from our mistakes.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBBOtk2OjKgPIjxHBTDw9glz7TTXQ1yunxktwCgl7GHLbvCLGEitXpRA2y__2oHiqgfw8KWJPyDsUiVWbzBabQcNEEwStXfh-8a3zeGCK2ZCYf3yHCaPdDSLH6vrnIde7YZ5RdKffxlcM/s2048/IMG_1820.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBBOtk2OjKgPIjxHBTDw9glz7TTXQ1yunxktwCgl7GHLbvCLGEitXpRA2y__2oHiqgfw8KWJPyDsUiVWbzBabQcNEEwStXfh-8a3zeGCK2ZCYf3yHCaPdDSLH6vrnIde7YZ5RdKffxlcM/s320/IMG_1820.HEIC" width="240" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br />Although at each stop we had a child refuse to get out of the car (we had forgotten to put refusal to leave the car on the bingo board so this did not count against them) but once we cajoled the child out everyone had fun. One of our girls is a mountain goat in human clothing and there were a few times we had to pull her off the rocks while her sister panicked that we were going to make good on our threat of just leaving the mountain goat in her natural habitat. Still, trying to get a child off a hike is better than trying to force a child to do a hike. At the end of the day, on our last hike at .... Ridge, the highest point in the Wind Cave, we took in the view and then watched our girls skip down the trail together as though they were at Disney. </span><p></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-18569428530839654372021-08-09T14:26:00.001-07:002021-08-09T14:26:00.196-07:00The Forced March (Hike) - Parenting in the Parks Post 4<p><br /></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-e94fc357-7fff-4356-3ef5-8772b99eb1da"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After dragging our children through Mount Rushmore, stuffing them with the only gluten-free options we could find, and forcing them to talk to a park ranger to receive their junior ranger badges, my husband and I decided we could not end the day there. We had heard there was a hiking trail. We love hiking! It is 111 degrees outside! Our kids are already miserable! It is the perfect opportunity to explore the great outdoors! Isn’t that why we brought the whole family to South Dakota anyway?</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The entrance to the Blackberry Trail at Mount Rushmore is not clearly marked and we spent most of our time wandering back and forth across the parking lot asking different park rangers to point us in the right direction. This of course only primed our children for ultimate whining as there really is nothing that says family fun more than walking across a large, steaming hot and crowded public parking lot when you are already tired. We prevailed though, and eventually found the trail head. </span></p><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPb9WNB8Wjqo8NzGAFSmE7svLFXp4P7izTdfRhpcVP1zpUbwq6HjcEkilOUZXCEV3Qa7qxXjiV2trjNNvqTvqzI3oAdozQPrdXyE-s1IXsg1GNvMtTSL2MwxgvYrQdgJfPNQpAPXA5tZwZ/s2048/IMG_1690.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPb9WNB8Wjqo8NzGAFSmE7svLFXp4P7izTdfRhpcVP1zpUbwq6HjcEkilOUZXCEV3Qa7qxXjiV2trjNNvqTvqzI3oAdozQPrdXyE-s1IXsg1GNvMtTSL2MwxgvYrQdgJfPNQpAPXA5tZwZ/s320/IMG_1690.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The seven year old was done. “NO”</span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We ignored her. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The secret to hiking with her we’ve learned is to just make it through the first mile. She complains loudly through the first mile and then cheers up and tends to have extreme amounts of energy for the rest of the hike. This hike, however, was only a total of two miles, so that meant half the hike would entail drama. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sometimes the seven year old can be distracted with a game of pretend. The day before while we wandered through the Badlands looking for rattlesnakes and telling the kids that this was great fun, she had decided to pretend to be Manhattan, the famous tour guide. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Hello everyone, my name’s Manhattan. It’s a long one so try your best to remember it. What’s my name again? That’s right! Manhattan! Everyone, fall in line behind me and I’ll take you through this lovely trail called The Badlands. Just right here over this small hill. Stay on the trail please - mommy! Is that a rattle snake?” </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No... that’s just a plant”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGhv3J-UKt_ejGU2-zBFpZtoH-jtF2Al-A0eC62dOqFnsxVS02Obv6qipqEVoN52OwRb56n9SDpjgPikCZDV9tPR4nPxcXnmfBsakuLP-RDaaWgnQ23wtPEPGxt7_fX2YzGgDJmn8urbAD/s2048/IMG_1524.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGhv3J-UKt_ejGU2-zBFpZtoH-jtF2Al-A0eC62dOqFnsxVS02Obv6qipqEVoN52OwRb56n9SDpjgPikCZDV9tPR4nPxcXnmfBsakuLP-RDaaWgnQ23wtPEPGxt7_fX2YzGgDJmn8urbAD/s320/IMG_1524.HEIC" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br />“Well then, let’s not be scared of the plant everyone - but keep your eyes out for rattlesnakes and stay on the path. Just follow your trusted tour guide, Manhattan. On your left you will see the Badlands... look at those different colors of red, yellow, and brown. On your right, more Badlands.” </span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Truthfully, Manhattan was a good tour guide even if she was absolutely making up everything she said. And narrating the trail was far more pleasant than whining so we were all happy when Manhattan showed up.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">On our Blackberry trail hike however, Manhattan was nowhere to be found. After the seven year old made multiple attempts to turn around without us noticing or to just sit down on the ground and refuse to move, I asked where Manhattan was. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh, didn’t you hear?” my daughter said without a beat. “She died. She was leading a hike on this very trail and was so very tired. She went off to look for blackberries and fell off that rock right there. Sorry.” </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You know things are dire when imaginary characters start dying. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Despite the death stories and the refusals to move, the Blackberry Trail was beautiful. The trail takes you on a loop behind Mount Rushmore. It was incredible that within the same park we had been surrounded by people and now, so close to where we had just been, we were alone. We did not see anyone on the entire trail but were able to marvel at the beauty of the Black Hills and see just why they had chosen that spot for Mount Rushmore. Although only a mile away from the parking lot we felt as though we were deep in the woods as we stopped to turn around.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Eventually we made it to the bottom of the trail - which we had completely in a whopping 39 minutes for the full downhill mile. We moved so slowly that my watch gave me an idle alert and told me I had been sitting too long. I took lots of pictures to amuse myself so that I would not outright lose my mind or say something so awful that I could never take it back. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Miraculously, just like with every hike, as we began the second mile the seven year old perked up. As we turned around to go up the steep one mile hill we had just gone down she took off, practically running the entire way. We made it up the hill in significantly less time than it took us to go down. What can I say? It was a beautiful hike and completely worth it.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p></span><br />organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-69389658660917382912021-08-06T06:48:00.005-07:002021-08-06T06:48:57.295-07:00Parenting in the Parks - the Junior Ranger Program <p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">The National Parks have a Junior Ranger program, which I both praise and curse them for all at once. They provide your children with a booklet and a number of pages to complete based on your child’s age. This give your child a clear focus to work through as you navigate the park. Once this is completed your child can turn the book in at a ranger station, take an oath and receive a badge. At Rushmore it gave us an excuse to sit down in the shade and to talk about something other than all the ways our children were being abused. At the Wind Cave it also gave us something to do while we waited in the line. The problem with these books is that they have excellent learning objectives in them, which means that at times it actually felt like forcing my children to sit down and do homework. And for what? A plastic badge that they will most likely lose or that they can then beg for a $40 vest to keep the badges on that they will never wear? </span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-324b313c-7fff-cdcb-da94-da86ec00b2aa"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-hjdT3QSbjOXq9cG0UXHeKS_65K2JWuggHBzNESEh1TIUFgfMQbI2VJmnkxapcUM9Rtl0kaEu8NL6CcXh6D8SfXpo5GHCTntv8xhk0q6IwRxU27M8_QJUC3PKp6SskK2t47d_Ve3n4b2-/s2048/IMG_1762.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-hjdT3QSbjOXq9cG0UXHeKS_65K2JWuggHBzNESEh1TIUFgfMQbI2VJmnkxapcUM9Rtl0kaEu8NL6CcXh6D8SfXpo5GHCTntv8xhk0q6IwRxU27M8_QJUC3PKp6SskK2t47d_Ve3n4b2-/s320/IMG_1762.HEIC" width="320" /></a></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We were exploring the Wind Cave prairies, admiring the view, and all I could think was “We have three more pages to do in those booklets”. Notice the we. It quickly went from “you” to “we”. Not that they give parenting badges along with the ranger badges. Come to think of it, maybe they would. Or a drink voucher to use at the nearest bar. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">As my husband waited dutifully in line at the Wind Cave we sat on a picnic bench with another family doing the same thing. The mother and I poked and proded our children to choose a page, answer the questions, think through the answers, spell words correctly, and do quick mini-lessons on how caves formed, the food chain in the prairie, and how the Lakota tribe can use every part of the buffalo. “Mommy, what do they use the bladder for?” I was so grateful to hear the other mom explain that you use the bladder to carry water - I didn’t know and there wasn’t an internet signal out there for a quick under-the-table google check. Not that cheating is OK. But, you know. It is hot outside. </span></p><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The answers to these questions can all be found in the museums and information provided by the park, but that involves carefully attending to each sign, movie, and display. At Rushmore this meant memorizing what each child’s booklet required of them, scanning the signs and displays for answers, then grabbing the child, have them look at the sign, review the information, then say “wow, I wonder if that will answer a question in your booklet.” Every time that is met with “Nah, I don’t think so.” “No, really, please, let’s look.” And then me drawing the logic between the sign and the paper. Hopefully when it is time for my children to take college entrance exams they’ll understand worksheet logic better than they do now.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rushmore’s booklet included a crossword puzzle, which would be fun except that in order to complete a crossword puzzle correctly one must spell the words right. This led to multiple tears as we asked our children to check their spelling, before ultimately just writing the word for them because this is suppose to be a fun, family activity and it is 100 degrees outside and I just can’t anymore.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The ultimate final task of the booklets is to take them to a ranger. At Rushmore they are required to ask the ranger what they do at the park and then draw the answer. For some reason my children equated this with asking a park ranger what kind of underwear they were wearing. There were more tears as we tried to point out the friendly looking rangers standing idly by, just waiting for children to come up and talk to them. “It’s OK” we said, “You don’t have to get the badge. We were here! We saw the monument! Let’s go!” But that wasn’t OK. My girls needed the badge. And so, eventually, they worked up their nerve and received the badges. Only to repeat the same experience the next day at the Wind Cave. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My girls are now the proud holders of two junior ranger badges. The Badlands ranger just gave me the booklets and the badges and made me promise not to give them the badges until they finished the booklets. I have a feeling I will be the proud holder of two junior ranger Badland badges because I highly suspect my children will not complete their worksheet packet now that we are ending our vacation.</span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-55585216286695518232021-08-02T05:56:00.000-07:002021-08-02T05:56:02.966-07:00Parenting in the Parks #2 - Bingo!<p><a href="http://www.welcometoorganizedchaos.com/2021/07/why-do-we-do-this-to-ourselves.html" target="_blank">We left off with our last post with our family in dire survival mode at Mount Rushmore, wondering how we were going to survive even one more day at a national park... </a></p><p>A<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">nd so, as we sat down to eat our overly expensive park food I decided we needed a survival plan. Something novel. Something to make us laugh. Something to make us possibly survive the awfulness that this trip was becoming. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOaTsk0TvuZgNVjyYvSzOqyPHnJz1GyNOZ-januLX73xNiGQviOVDKC1yhAkCg9nF0fPwl9sBcJr31fYl_YBNOBtqXArTJ7AxQ56nunqiHUJXnZ0pxWL1HhDYzwf5GVq5igczhhek7hpUw/s2048/IMG_1678.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOaTsk0TvuZgNVjyYvSzOqyPHnJz1GyNOZ-januLX73xNiGQviOVDKC1yhAkCg9nF0fPwl9sBcJr31fYl_YBNOBtqXArTJ7AxQ56nunqiHUJXnZ0pxWL1HhDYzwf5GVq5igczhhek7hpUw/s320/IMG_1678.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span id="docs-internal-guid-48f8797a-7fff-3afd-21f5-17c85bfbe5f2"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A bingo board.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A bingo board where we could actually check off a box for each whine. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Just listening to the whining could actually mean we were winning. Or something like that. As I listened to all the other whining children calling to their parents throughout the park I loved the idea even more. Perhaps because it became clear to me that our children’s whines didn’t necessarily mean we were bad parents (at least, if we were, we were bad parents along with every other parenting marching their child through the monument), but instead it was that we were doing our as parents and they were doing their job as kids. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t make this excruciating experience fun.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu8Ipu5RPrCu2w9j81_iOF4CmoZseRzGF7sVgdhcSzAoTR_OE9EjBG6Pu-opLeZkGUwnVJQaULqVQSOIQ1Yd_kFjXqE_enQR37RICK76APOja6hDsm1nByGbAIVD4NLFLpvDvf8MIl-4Vh/s2048/IMG_1738+2.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu8Ipu5RPrCu2w9j81_iOF4CmoZseRzGF7sVgdhcSzAoTR_OE9EjBG6Pu-opLeZkGUwnVJQaULqVQSOIQ1Yd_kFjXqE_enQR37RICK76APOja6hDsm1nByGbAIVD4NLFLpvDvf8MIl-4Vh/s320/IMG_1738+2.JPG" width="240" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br />That night we sat together as a family and designed a “Forced Fun National Park Adventure 2021” bingo board. Inside each box we put in a common child whine or action or a frequent parent phrase/action. If we got bingo then my husband and I could choose the dinner location and enjoy large adult beverages. If we didn’t get bingo then our children would have won and we wouldn’t stand in their way of achieving their dreams of getting a massive ice cream treat. Everyone contributed and after a few drafts we had our board - complete with “solidarity boxes” for when we observed whining behavior from other kids. </span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Please dear god of parents, let this work, I thought as I folded it into my bag. Let’s be honest, a large adult drink would only mean I’d have a massive headache the next day, making their whining on our travel day home even worse. If we “won” the bingo board there would be no real winners.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My youngest studied the board as though it held the answers to a college entrance exam. As we drove toward our third national park she announced “So after we’ve checked one box then we can do that behavior over and again, right?” Great. She found a loophole.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We pulled into the Wind Cave National Park only to see a line of disgruntled families wrapping around the visitor’s center and out into the park. My heart sank - not for the line or the possibility that we might not get tickets to tour the cave, but at the possibility of getting bingo within the first ten minutes of waiting in line. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I want to take a moment to honor the creativity and ingenuity of parents waiting in this line. One group was letting their young children build castles out of pinecones. I’ve never seen such a large pile of pinecones but these children were sitting in front of it as though they were at the beach, creating castles Elsa would have been happy with. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For us, the line gave us time to both work on our junior ranger packets and review the bingo board. We reviewed the difference between stating your need and whining. We don’t want you to not tell us if you are hungry or hurt - but it can be done in a regular human being voice. We practiced. And discussed. And analyzed every loophole.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> “But if I am really just hurting and whining is the only thing to make it feel better?” </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Then that’s fine. Go for it. But then I get to mark a square.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“But what if my sister does look at me when I don’t want her to?” </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Can I whine if I’m bored?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Yes, whine at all of these, but then we mark off the board.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Luckily the line was very long and we had time to analyze every situation possible. It is a good reminder that sometimes we have to spell out “If your sister is touching you then you just move away and she won’t be touching you anymore” so that screaming “she’s touching me!” isn’t the first solution that comes to mind. Sometimes our fully developed adult brains forget these small things. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So was the bingo board actually just a cruel way to amuse myself and troll my children from my heartless parenting soul? Part of me felt like it was. I mean, normal parents don’t sit down with their kids and say “OK, tell me all the things you are going to whine about tomorrow. Let’s make a list. Oh! And make a list of all the things we might say when you do whine.” Something about that feels wrong.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And yet, by noon we had only checked off three boxes, and one of the boxes was from honestly thinking my child was whining when it turned out to be another parent’s child. Around 1pm there was a bit of a “she touched me and it hurt” moment, but just checking off one box did not ruin the board. The brilliance of the bingo board is that they can actually make a mistake - because, let’s be honest, it was a long, hot, sometimes boring day, and even as adults we were likely to whine now and then. But that doesn’t mean we need to whine all day long. The board allowed my kids to have those honest moments of traveling like a kid - and gave my husband and I something to think about instead of just rolling our eyes. Somehow it no longer felt like a big deal. We could laugh about the “she looked at me and it hurt” moment together as a family, check it off, tease the girls that we might win, and move on.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ed Tronick found in his Still-Face experience work that “good enough parents” are only actively attuned to our children’s overtures 30% of the time. We miss their cues and have mismatches or ruptures in our relationships with them70% of the time. In fact, as Winnecott wrote, a child needs just a “good enough” parent - one that gives them that safe place to experience stress and unmet needs that the world will inevitably give them. So lets be real. Maybe 70% of our Rushmore experience was met with whining and frustration. But there were those 30% moments. The collective awe we felt as a family as we found a quiet spot to view the monument from. The family mission to find gluten-free food. Working together to finish the junior ranger packets. Spotting a deer grazing off the side of the trail. There were good moments. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At the end of our day visiting the Wind Cave we let our children choose ridiculously unhealthy amounts of sugar in the form of an “ice cream sundae”. They giggled with delight, both at the fact that we were letting them eat all of this otherwise off-limits sugar, and at the idea that they had beaten us at our game. The interactions we had throughout the day of the bingo board, and the collective meaning created of our overall trip - one of frustration, teamwork, and beating the heat (not to mention surviving an overly friendly bison) is what these family trips are all about. Trips to the National Parks are not going to be idealic despite what anyone’s social media page says. But they can be filled with family meaning making and memories, despite all of the whining and complaining that may come about.</span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-41143411685090909002021-07-30T14:36:00.005-07:002021-07-30T14:36:30.521-07:00Why do we do this to ourselves? Parenting at the Parks Post #1 - Rushmore<p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">When my grandmother took her five children to Italy for an extended stay she kept a journal throughout the entire trip, which she later edited and had bound into a book she gifted to her children so that they could remember the journey. Many of us have taken a copy of my grandmother's bound journal with us to Italy to see the beauty she saw. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her description of the events were beautiful and made the entire trip sound idyllic. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is not that journal.</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-4c6f1f92-7fff-0af4-1a35-b0c1a689f97c"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">How my grandmother took five children across the Atlantic is beyond me. I have two and our four day trek to the national parks in South Dakota just about killed all of us. It would be easy for me to curate pictures and make it look like we had a beautiful adventure on social media. In fact, we probably will do that - and the shutterfly album we make from the trip will capture the glowing highlights. Then again, I believe in realism, so the memory book will probably also capture moments that I’m sure, later, will either make us laugh or remind us to never travel with children again.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Because I believe in the idea of "you have to laugh or you'll cry” <i>and </i>I use writing to process my feelings, the next series of posts will capture our adventures, misadventures, and survival strategies. #parentingintheparks </span></p><div><span><br /></span></div><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXX3BYl2Tx3B78xDr678Bd5XyIIMN9U1tAHkRq_aWSNzBGDG_FVNP15vUm6YEVbX79rrHERrU7iwL9ZjsU3Xh6ODUOm4bNo9Uhnv_yriA1AuVsAHKl5Rx5i5HX4H0EAXciECUhQiu3b-dX/s2048/IMG_1676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXX3BYl2Tx3B78xDr678Bd5XyIIMN9U1tAHkRq_aWSNzBGDG_FVNP15vUm6YEVbX79rrHERrU7iwL9ZjsU3Xh6ODUOm4bNo9Uhnv_yriA1AuVsAHKl5Rx5i5HX4H0EAXciECUhQiu3b-dX/s320/IMG_1676.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Rushmore</b><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Our third day was blocked off to visit Mount Rushmore in the Black Hills. This was, of course, planned to occur after a full day of rock scrambling in the BadLands and it would be our third day of exploring South Dakota in the 100+ degree heat. What could go wrong? </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We dragged our children through the throngs of tourists to see the man-made artistic representation of the dead white men that survived our country. (I was surprised to learn that the original plans for Rushmore included a much more diverse group of heroes, yet the final plans only included the four presidents.) Our children, along with every other child on the path, reacted the same way to the iconic monument - with prolonged whines, desperate calls for food as though they had not been fed in days or weeks, and with feeble voices begging for medical attention to care for their weak legs, stomachs, heads, arms, or undesignated body part. We strolled past a family desperately trying to jam their toddler’s boneless body into the stroller. My daughter burst out laughing when she heard another parent say “I told you to eat breakfast this morning” at the shock that other parents use the same lines we do. Apparently her parents are not that original after all. A family with teenage boys were reprimanded by their father who begged them to just “let mom have her moment and stop complaining. Pretend to be interested.” I continued to look around frantically, assuming that the whines echoing off the mountain were my own children’s, only to find that it was a chorus of collective, whining voices from every child present - making it impossible to tell which was my child. Oh wait, my child was the one sitting down and refusing to move. Well, one of the kids refused to move. She wasn’t alone.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM4UOj9m9TfMzbwxmbQgb8URkFJ1NUF7J31Pw4JfrWqaxeiuDR2QneSAJbv21_x3QgARQrh-MuVEOlmEghmp77XMBTrt5EYLYImpPm07PsZR7M6Qw2wKgWG8kbZz9vJUVG5uOGTSYGXINc/s2048/IMG_1678.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM4UOj9m9TfMzbwxmbQgb8URkFJ1NUF7J31Pw4JfrWqaxeiuDR2QneSAJbv21_x3QgARQrh-MuVEOlmEghmp77XMBTrt5EYLYImpPm07PsZR7M6Qw2wKgWG8kbZz9vJUVG5uOGTSYGXINc/s320/IMG_1678.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I felt such solidarity with these other parents. We are not alone. We may be dragging our children through 100+ heat in an attempt to experience the world and to be good parents. Memories! We want them to have memories! And to learn outside of books! And although yes, as parents we are miserable in the heat as well and possibly find the ranger talk on the tedious process of just how the monument was scripted a bit longer than necessary, we need to set a good example. Those expensive plane tickets we bought to get us out here are not going to waste. And so, we bribe, and cajole, and use our “I mean business” voices. And when one random parent in the crowd gets down in their child’s face to use the “I’m not kidding, you touch your brother one more time and you won’t get ice cream” voice all the kids around them shape up because they can’t tell the difference between these tired parents’ voices and ours either. We’re all in this hot, whiny, memorable family experience together. </span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And so, as we sat down to eat our overly expensive park food I decided we needed a survival plan. Something novel. Something to make us laugh. Something to make us possibly survive the awfulness that this trip was becoming... </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">... stay tuned for our solution</span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-42167701876011122842021-04-30T12:54:00.000-07:002021-04-30T12:54:35.585-07:00Homeschooling, Cooking, and Common Language<p> It is Oakes Day - or rather - the day before the Kentucky Derby. While we do not live in Kentucky, over the years my family has found this is a great opportunity to get dressed up and bring people together for a party. And to force kids to run around in circles on stick horses. </p><p>Party prep day means cooking, so our homeschooling for today translated into work in the kitchen. After nearly a year of learning first grade and third grade math together I found myself automatically aligning our cooking with fractions and measurement. Although I've always done this, now it feels more meaningful. I know exactly how the questions were posed in the math curriculum we used and know who struggled with which aspect of fractions. I watched for the moment the eyes lit up when the first grader put together exactly how many 1/2 cups we needed to use for two cups of flour because the cup measurer was already dirty. </p><p>Throughout this busy afternoon in the kitchen I found myself thinking how much I have enjoyed our homeschooling year. How far we have all come. And how much I will miss it if we decide to go back to regular school in the fall.</p><p>Before COVID I joked about homeschooling but never really put much thought behind it. I worked with many children who are homeschooled and I saw the benefits, but also appreciated the structure of public school for our family. Now that we've tried it... I can't decide whether we will keep going or return. There are so many aspects I absolutely love about it.</p><p>Regardless of our decision, I realized in the kitchen today that this year of homeschooling has given us a common language around learning we would not have otherwise had. We can slip between chatting about what movie to watch on Friday and comparing fractions or adding time without skipping a beat. We analyze poems, recognize metaphors during podcasts, and keep lists of what we want to learn about next.</p><p>In the classroom, developing a common language as a classroom community was always important to me. In my first grade classroom we often spent time on discussions around how to be a problem solver to develop language we could use throughout the year in all areas of our day - from math problems to social emotional learning. In the classroom, everything I did felt more intentional. Yet I realize as we analyzed the fraction bar on the back of the butter stick that what we've developed from this year is a common language as a family as well. In fact, my first grader even refers to us as "Team Lipstick" almost daily as we dive into problem solving opportunities.</p><p>Don't get me wrong. Homeschooling has not been easy. I have new strands of glittering grey hairs and my girls comment on my wrinkles that somehow increased during the last year. This morning one of my lovely children handed me a "two page" story. Two pages being the small paper pages she created - not using the 8 1/2 by 11 standard. </p>organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-72264201049072618622020-10-14T08:04:00.003-07:002020-10-14T08:20:44.774-07:00Stream of consciousness during homeschool family writing time<p> It is homeschool family writing time, which means we are all cuddled up on the couch - cat included - typing away. It may look like a beautiful homeschooling moment on social media but let's dive into it a bit.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlohy6bv9HYSxsg6pXRv9xgF1YkyNqA3YaFAb6g5fdYSQMBhuYM-9VX4HGHy-xS4s_XGD7ntVgvhxf0Skw76D-iEflDI4i7I8YPeKCMN74gWMXnVYjT4KN9IiLkhS2g63LSfSRkp8Vcas/s2048/IMG_7561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlohy6bv9HYSxsg6pXRv9xgF1YkyNqA3YaFAb6g5fdYSQMBhuYM-9VX4HGHy-xS4s_XGD7ntVgvhxf0Skw76D-iEflDI4i7I8YPeKCMN74gWMXnVYjT4KN9IiLkhS2g63LSfSRkp8Vcas/s320/IMG_7561.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p> We just finished up a rather frustrating attempt at completing Colonial crafts we bought in Jamestown last August. The directions were poor and with only one adult jumping between two different craft projects to provide assistance we all got a bit frustrated. What to do? Take a break and write about it in a 'small moments' style. Of course, when you are already frustrated trying to complete a group composition isn't always going to help. Ehhh... we got through it.</p><p>That text completed we dove into our fifteen minutes of independent writing. Nothing to write about? Often happens in moments of frustration... so.... diving deep into my creative writing classes from my childhood I implemented the "just write anything - even if you write "I have nothing to write about." I'm writing this... one child is writing about how tired she is and one is writing about me.</p><p>I'll write about her too.</p><p>My oldest is one of the most determined children I have ever met. She taught herself to tie shoes one afternoon in kindergarten, taught herself to tell time on Christmas morning when she was six and just got a new watch, and she follows through with whatever deep challenge she comes upon. </p><p>Lately, we have been diving into some of my favorite books together - Wonder and Book Scavenger. It's been so lovely to share these books with her - and even more exciting to get book recommendations from her. One night I came upstairs at 9:50 and found her sheepishly still up and reading. "You HAVE to read this book, Mommy" she declared, showing me the sequel to Wonder she had been reading. So I did. It was excellent. Both the book and the fact that I now have another book-lover to give me recommendations. </p>organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-53041526461934476322020-10-07T07:38:00.002-07:002020-10-07T07:38:47.962-07:00Homeschooling Reflections<p> We have been homeschooling for about a month now. My greatest surprise, other than how much I love it, is the stress I feel in being in charge of my daughters' education. This took me by surprise because I've taught many, many children over the years. I've also supported parents in their homeschooling. I've written up homeschooling units, monitored students' progress, adapted for student need, and always felt 100% confident that the child was completing what they needed for that year. So I was not ready for the wave of mom guilt that flooded over me about a week ago. Was I enough? Am I wasting a year of their childhood? What if I explain something incorrectly? What if I don't cover some essential knowledge.</p><p>How have I felt confident creating plans for others but am so wracked with guilt when it comes to my own kids? Is this just the way being a mother is? When it comes to our own kids how do we ever know what is enough?</p><p>Logically I know my kids are fine. They are nonstop readers and are doing great in math. At the moment I am sitting between them on the couch for family writing time. On one side of me my third grader is converting one of her stories into a play. On the other side of me, my first grader is stretching out her sounds for words in a fiction story about a girl who is moving. I think we are OK. But all my logic does not quiet that little voice that says "what if you are wasting their time? What if this isn't enough?" I think I need to acknowledge that the voice is there and let it push me to be better for them. But I also need to know when to tell it to hush. Remind myself of the good-enough parent. And enjoy our good enough moments.</p>organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-67726365137038854522020-09-29T13:28:00.006-07:002020-09-29T13:28:36.846-07:00Spies, Spies, spies <p> For our reading curriculum we are using the Digital Reader Subscription from Pioneer Valley. I have always loved Pioneer Valley's books, and was thrilled to discover that this spring they quickly put them on-line to make them accessible to all of us stuck at home without our school libraries. Truthfully, I'm not sure I would have been up for homeschooling a first grader if I hadn't had such a great resource. You are able to input your children's reading levels and they provide your child a digital bookshelf with books at that exact level. </p><p>My third grader stumbled upon their spy series - which is a collection of fiction (graphic novel style) and nonfiction stories about spies. Who doesn't love espionage? Even better - the fiction stories take place in the International Spy Museum in Washington, DC - which I have never taken my children to - AND is one of the few museums open right now. Hello, field trip! </p><p>We also happen to be halfway through the first novel in the Book Scavenger series, which has introduced us to ciphers and secret codes. We've also spent the morning writing each other notes in code - just like the books from the Pioneer Valley website and Book Scavenger. </p><p>I had not been to the Spy Museum since it first opened - maybe 18 years ago. At the time I remember thinking it would be awesome to come back with a fourth grader, but that was about all I could remember. I hoped it would give us enough context for connecting with some of our social studies or science content.</p><p>We spent forever there - despite the fact that we were starving. Your ticket is only good while you are in the museum and there is not a place inside to get food. My husband and I would have left far earlier if listening to our stomaches was up to us, but every turn seemed to bring some other inviting investigation that needed to be explored. </p><p>The museum is designed for 9 year olds and up, and we certainly felt that. There were a few movies and exhibits I hurried them through, only to hear my six year old say "Hey! They cut that man's head off." GREAT. I also wasn't prepared for all of the context. Join a CIA team to decide whether to bomb Bin Laden? Extremely well-done exhibit that makes you feel like you are in the situation. Yeeeet... there is a reason a six year old and nine year old are not invited into the situation room. Part of why we were there so long was that each exhibit required context. Osama Bin Laden? My 9 year old correctly pointed out that spring 2011 was before she was born - and by the way, why are they going to KILL that guy? Um... where to begin?</p><p>I want to go back in four or five years - when both girls know more world history and understand more of the nuances in politics. </p><p>Still, they loved it. The cipher exhibit was a win, as was anything associated with our individual spy missions. We all got into it and were quickly enthralled with the puzzles and games. We bought cipher rings so we can write each other secret messages as well as a secret code book that will let us decode messages from famous people around the world. This will go right into the ancient civilizations that the third grader is studying. </p><p>I give the museum props for their COVID safety measures - they give you a stylus upon entering to use whenever you want to touch part of the exhibit or the computer. These came in very handy. Being there on a Tuesday morning it was practically deserted at first, and we never had that "I can't believe I have to share a space with this guy that can't figure out how to put the mask over his nose." </p><p>So... maybe listen to the 9 and up age recommendation, but even if you don't there is a lot to get out of the museum. A creative high school world history teacher could probably teach an entire class within the museum. Our brains hurt but despite that both girls are home playing spies. Off to use my cipher ring to send some messages... I wonder if decoding "clean the playroom" will be motivation to actually clean it :)</p>organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-15008998251444753672020-09-22T14:46:00.001-07:002020-09-24T15:08:17.646-07:00Boxcar Children Love <p> Early on in our COVID-19 quarantine time my daughters discovered the Boxcar Children audiobooks. My girls have always loved audiobooks and our public library seemed to have an un-ending amount of digital audiobooks in this series. We dove in. We needed something for them to do while we were working and they could somehow spend hours listening and re-listening to these stories. </p><p>Guess what. The library's collection is NOT unlimited. We've heard them all. Many, many times. We've bought them the actual CD's. We downloaded them from audible. We had drama over them using my audible credits to buy $3.00 books. (Turns out there is no reason for mommy to panic - audible will let you return a mistakenly bought book). </p><p>We may as well have had the Alden children move in with us in March. Benny, Violet, Jessie and Henry have become a part of our lives in the last six months. So much a part of our lives that when we got caught in a rainstorm at the Natural Bridge park my youngest said under her breath "Grandfather Alden would have known it was going to rain." This was not a one-time occurrence. She often told us how Grandfather Alden would have handled a situation better than we have.</p><p>I don't know if you are familiar with this series or not. ORiginally written in 1924, it begins with four children who are on their own and end up living in a boxcar. By the end of the book their kind (and father wealthy) grandfather finds them and takes them to live with him. For the 16 more books the children and grandfather have adventures and solve mysteries. </p><p>17 books isn't too bad, you must be thinking. </p><p>17 is the original amount of books from the original author. Now there are over 100 books. The children have gone from seeing horse and buggies going down the road to talking on cell phones. My girls haven't questioned this. Their disbelief is suspended despite the fact that sometimes the oldest boy is 18 and in college, and sometimes he is 14. His age literally goes backwards. Doesn't matter. My kids love these books. </p><p>The one aspect we do get held up on is that these four kids never fight. Ever. 100+ books and we have let to hear one argument. They discuss, disagree, and investigate, but there are no "I hate you and wish you weren't my sister" moments. No one gets upset or frustrated with each other. Perhaps this is why these four children have been such great quarantine companions. </p><p>So, since we have memorized most of these stories, I've used these books to my advantage for homeschooling. We've printed out both maps of the US and maps of the world so that we can track their adventures. My girls will now forever remember states, climates, and landmarks based on what was happening to the Boxcar Children. I imagine one of my girls in her 20s visiting a new state and thinking, "Why do I already feel like I've been here... my friend... no wait, not a friend, just a book character was here before." </p><p>In addition to our new found map skills, my children's vocabulary has also exploded from these listening to these books. The other night my youngest made a statement about elephants and I thought she was making up words. I literally cannot remember the word she used, but it turns out it was a real word and she used it appropriately. She also, at this moment, is typing that a character "howled". I've taught first grade for a long time, </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-34730650553026325052020-09-16T09:33:00.000-07:002020-09-16T09:33:45.295-07:00Almost two weeks down<p> Two weeks into homeschooling and so far I love it. I say that as we are all having a grumpy day and one of my children even said to me "your face looks mean today." Yes, darling. This is my serious teacher face. The 'no nonsense, I'll just repeat myself until you answer the question' face." BUT... regardless of our grumpiness, I love it.</p><p>We start each day by reading a poem from Sing a Song of Seasons poetry book a friend gave me years ago. The girls each have poetry journals they can use to draw the mental images they make as we read the poems. </p><p>We follow this with math from the Right Start math curriculum. It's manipulative and game based, so we often end up with some competitive games before moving on to reading and writing.</p><p>Yesterday I realized that we hadn't been to the library since the quarantine began, and that we'd never actually walked to our neighborhood library, despite the fact that it is less than a mile from our house. Maybe less than half a mile. Suddenly, feeling flushed with time, we wandered to the library as a part of our reading adventures. The girls loaded up on books from various genres (we talked about genres - totally a lesson, right?) and headed home to actually read the books we read.</p><p>In writing, one of my children announced she wanted to learn how to write plays, so she is working on taking a story she wrote before and turning it into a play. The other daughter is working on a diary with descriptive words to illustrate her days. After an entire six months of her playmates being the Alden children from the Boxcar Children series, her vocabulary is similar to the wholesome Gertrude Warner's stories. I about fell over when I saw she'd written "the sun is delightful and full of music" in her diary. </p><p>For art we tie-dyed shirts and then, because of the evil teacher I am, we wrote how-to story together about how to tie-dye.</p><p>I crawled into bed with a sense of peace, or if not peace, at least the feeling you get when you know you are in the right place at the right time.</p><p>Of course, it's not all roses and sunbeams. Today we are all slightly grumpy and put off. I'm trying to think about what I want them to do today while also thinking about my mounds of work for my other jobs and projects. To make homeschooling possible I've carefully stacked clients into two days a week, given myself two days of homeschooling with my girls, and a work day. When I'm not with my girls they have work to do on their own. It's a fine balance, but I *think* it's working. And it's incredible to watch them learn. </p><p>One of my other projects is teaching an inclusive augmented learning pod for Joey's Foundation. <a href="https://joeys.foundation/blog/">Check out what we are doing on the blog at their website! </a></p>organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-14125370930929674422020-09-09T10:57:00.001-07:002020-09-09T10:57:23.854-07:00Putting it All Together in Colonial WilliamsburgWhen I realized we had a trip planned to Colonial Williamsburg and that we are homeschooling it started to occur to me that I could really make the most of this trip. Since I am not using a curriculum, but am trying my best to follow the Virginia Standards of Learning, this trip seemed like the perfect opportunity to blend our learning objectives in science and social studies.<div><br /></div><div>We started the week before traveling reviewing the different regions of Virginia (which is a first grade SOL standard). My girls have experience traveling around the state so we were able to compare our real-life experiences to the different land regions. </div><div><br /></div><div>Each girl has a field notebook for science and social studies, so I printed out small maps of Virginia (when you hit print you can just select '2' per page or '3 per page' to make anything smaller) that they could color and glue into their notebooks. </div><div><br /></div><div><u>Geography - Virginia Regions</u></div><div>This gave way to discussing how the differences in the regions impact how people live and make their money in the region, which is another first grade SOL objective. (For my third grader, this is a great warm up to discussing ancient civilizations. We've established that how people live is influenced by the environment. We'll pull out that concept later.) </div><div><br /></div><div><u>Economic Standards:</u></div><div>How people live based on their land leads into learning about both first and third grade economic standards as well. (Goods and services, producers, consumers, making choices, and specialization). </div><div><br /></div><div>Here are some of the resources I found and printed for my girls to put into their notebooks.</div><div><a href="file:///Users/ann-baileylipsett/Downloads/EconomicsCombined.pdf%20(1).pdf">Virginia regions and economy</a> </div><div><a href="https://www.thinglink.com/scene/695661945092571137">Virginia Regions</a></div><div><a href="https://www.lcps.org/cms/lib/VA01000195/Centricity/Domain/18341/GeographyofVirginiaStudyGuideandReviewWorksheetVSac.pdf">Virginia Regions, Waterways, Landforms</a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Studying maps of Virginia also leads to the first grade standards of reading a map, using a map key/legend, and a compass rose. </div><div><br /></div><div><u>Science - Ecosystems</u></div><div>Before we dove into the history of Jamestown and Williamsburg we also looked into ecosystems. This is a second/third grade standard and I knew that understanding the wetlands that surround Jamestown would help understand the history there (hint: the mosquitos and lack of water).</div><div><br /></div><div>Around this time we also found a snail in the backyard and made a habitat for him, which played right into this discussion. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvm__qeKI3d9Xg7yFa9b8p0hEZ45qC-hIy6CxqB9h7m10OMfKRn9DDkwxGzo2R88tKZwHZYsQnlv7p6ANoEoM6KoiD2BNJb6pekptWGDtBQcLwafObFnmID0qLypzu36ell9X5LWMId1QM/s2048/IMG_6430+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvm__qeKI3d9Xg7yFa9b8p0hEZ45qC-hIy6CxqB9h7m10OMfKRn9DDkwxGzo2R88tKZwHZYsQnlv7p6ANoEoM6KoiD2BNJb6pekptWGDtBQcLwafObFnmID0qLypzu36ell9X5LWMId1QM/s320/IMG_6430+2.JPG" width="320" /></a>In studying ecosystems and our snail we also looked at producers, consumers, and decomposers (third grade standard), as well as the food chain (first grade). This also laid some groundwork for how the animals in the new world worked together, and how humans changed that as they settled into Jamestown. (Another first grade AND third grade SOL). </div><div>For all of this we drew a lot of pictures in our science notebooks. I haven't saved the youtube videos we watched, but there are so many out there that a quick search found an abundance of videos on ecosystems, consumers/producers/decomposers, and the food chain.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><u>History:</u></div><div>And so, we were ready to dive into the historical aspect of Jamestown and Williamsburg. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/us-history/colonial-america/early-chesapeake-and-southern-colonies/v/jamestown-john-smith-and-pocahontas">Khan Academy has excellent videos</a> on this time, and while I thought they would be over my first grader's head, she loved them. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwcSwwZlXR-pA0POAT77QfEGllWnCEp_oLVAz-1dtNjQiGwFsdlIzeSASsxzxPFAw096Rnb_fHi-Ax1ryFvYvFC2qZEAW8ZzENdhG-B5FqO2k1NiwONqK6hJ3MOHBRBTkq2m4Aoj049u85/s2048/IMG_6433+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwcSwwZlXR-pA0POAT77QfEGllWnCEp_oLVAz-1dtNjQiGwFsdlIzeSASsxzxPFAw096Rnb_fHi-Ax1ryFvYvFC2qZEAW8ZzENdhG-B5FqO2k1NiwONqK6hJ3MOHBRBTkq2m4Aoj049u85/s320/IMG_6433+2.JPG" width="320" /></a> fantastic resource about<a href="https://kids.nationalgeographic.com/games/action-and-adventure/on-the-trail-of-captain-john-smith/"> Jamestown is from National Geographic.</a> It has interactive games that let the children learn a history lesson through performing the game (what is more accurate, a riffle or a bow and arrow?) and my children watched/played these games so much that by the time we were hearing lectures in person they already knew the answers. They must have watched and played these games for days before we left... they were particularly fascinated by the Pocahontas story. </div><div><br /></div><div>We also watched some of the great videos Colonial Williamsburg has put out on what life was like then - including (my girls' favorite) what clothing was like that. </div><div><br /></div><div>After a week of intense study we were excited and ready to get into the car, travel through both the piedmont and tidewater regions (with our maps so we could note how the land changed as we drove) and head to Williamsburg. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2J1sRQe_X_9JLIpe7uRoI_dZB7hAyYg4NZFNysLguw3Srz_m6kfLezgYS3RsVTVjEqLxtrakTEP1VTjUxoMLuA_uCxOf6x4pK3zC1vonGbK3QPLMvlRxoEwtzWIZRIxik56_gTebaw1-n/s2048/IMG_6447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1539" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2J1sRQe_X_9JLIpe7uRoI_dZB7hAyYg4NZFNysLguw3Srz_m6kfLezgYS3RsVTVjEqLxtrakTEP1VTjUxoMLuA_uCxOf6x4pK3zC1vonGbK3QPLMvlRxoEwtzWIZRIxik56_gTebaw1-n/s320/IMG_6447.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Stay tuned for our adventures in Williamsburg, Jamestown, and Yorktown!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div>organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-43256043546352822402020-09-08T11:07:00.000-07:002020-09-08T11:07:03.121-07:00And now... for homeschooling! <p> For the next chapter in my education life I have the opportunity to take what I've learned from 17 years in education and apply it to my own daughters. </p><p>After some long, late-night conversations where my husband and I weighed the pros and cons of every possible different learning situation out there we decided that homeschooling was going to make the most sense for our family. I love my girls' public elementary school and it felt like a loss to submit the paperwork to withdraw them. Knowing those teachers, I also 100% believe that my girls' school is going to knock virtual learning out of the park. </p><p>But... after a rough spring I realized that if I am going to be home in the room with my children while they are learning, <i>I</i> want to be the teacher, not the enforcer. I don't want any more fights about when to sit in front of the computer, how to sit so the teacher can see your face, being both tech support and the social-emotional counselor when the computer crashed during small group with teacher... And I didn't want any other occasions of being told "Mommy, stay out of it, you aren't my teacher. My work is fine." Followed by my ever mature response, "<i>I've been teaching small moments longer than you've been alive, kiddo. I know I know what your teacher wants." </i></p><p>And so, we have taken the homeschooling leap. Today, while all over our region teachers and students are going back to school for their first virtual day, my girls and I are entering our first official week of our new routine. We've had a three week long slow-start. We spent the first week preparing for our trip to Williamsburg, Virginia. We dove into studying Virginia landforms, history, geography, economy, and ecosystems. Then we spent a week visiting Colonial Williamsburg, Jamestown, and Yorktown. The third week of our "slow start" we got into our math curriculum (We are using Right Start) and got comfortable in our math routine.</p><p>Today marks our first full day of homeschooling. Interrupted, of course, by a sudden run to the pediatrician (but hey, easy to get an appointment, everyone else was in school). </p><p>And right this instant? We are having family independent writing time, where each of us is silently working on our writing. Or at least pretending to work on our writing. We'll see what each girl has to share during the writing conference portion of this experience.</p><p>I am still seeing clients this year, as well as working on some other exciting projects. But after some creative scheduling we've made it possible to also be here to teach my girls.</p><p>So stay tuned, for at least two days a week we will have family writing time, so I hope to actually stay somewhat up to date on this blog. </p><p><br /></p>organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-42834211393424152402020-04-28T11:54:00.003-07:002020-04-28T11:54:24.572-07:00Moral Injury and Teaching<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<i>I originally wrote this as a message for an amazing school I work with and was asked to put it into a shareable format. </i></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">Yesterday, in a lecture on resiliency during this COVID-19 time, I heard the term “moral injury” used to describe what teachers are currently going through. This is usually a term applied to soldiers at war who are forced to do something they don’t believe in, and I was struck in hearing it used in reference to us. </span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-0e3afbe6-7fff-c532-938c-85804a04a0c4" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">The Wikipedia definition is:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">Moral injury</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"> refers to an injury to an individual's moral </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Conscience" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b0080; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">conscience</span></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"> and </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moral_values" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b0080; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">values</span></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"> resulting from an act of perceived moral transgression,</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moral_injury#cite_note-JNCN-1" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b0080; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-size: 0.6em; vertical-align: super;">[1]</span></span></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"> which produces profound emotional guilt and shame,</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moral_injury#cite_note-pmid19683376-2" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b0080; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-size: 0.6em; vertical-align: super;">[2]</span></span></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"> and in some cases also a sense of betrayal,</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moral_injury#cite_note-JNCN-1" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b0080; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-size: 0.6em; vertical-align: super;">[1]</span></span></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"> anger and profound "moral disorientation".</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moral_injury#cite_note-Molendijk2018a-3" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b0080; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-size: 0.6em; vertical-align: super;">[3]</span></span></a></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">The concept of moral injury emphasizes the psychological, social, cultural, and spiritual aspects of trauma.</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moral_injury#cite_note-JNCN-1" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b0080; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-size: 0.6em; vertical-align: super;">[1]</span></span></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"> Distinct from </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Psychopathology" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b0080; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">psychopathology</span></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">, moral injury is a normal human response to an abnormal traumatic event.</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moral_injury#cite_note-JNCN-1" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b0080; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-size: 0.6em; vertical-align: super;">[1]</span></span></a><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moral_injury#cite_note-RitaNakashima-4" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b0080; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-size: 0.6em; vertical-align: super;">[4]</span></span></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"> According to the </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/U.S._Department_of_Veterans_Affairs" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b0080; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs</span></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">, the concept is used in literature with regard to the mental health of military veterans who have witnessed or perpetrated an act in combat that transgressed their deeply held moral beliefs and expectations.</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moral_injury#cite_note-5" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b0080; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.999999999999998pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-size: 0.6em; vertical-align: super;">[5]</span></span></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">“Moral injury is the normal human response to an abnormal traumatic event” when we are unable to complete work that we believe in.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">Teaching is what drives each of us. Each of us wakes up every day ready to make the world better because of the work we do at Carlin Springs. We see the faces of our students when we go to bed at night, and if we wake up at 2am are filled with worry about what is happening to our students. Normally, all we need to do is get back to school to see them. Hug them, listen to them, teach them, support them.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">Right now, we can’t. And frankly, that sucks. (excuse my language. In my house we’ve recognized that while we don’t usually use words like that, sometimes we need to have language that matches the situation.)</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">Something about naming the term helped me understand the deep helplessness we are each going through as we fight to match our beliefs in helping our students with the current situation.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">I have no great advice here other than to be kind to yourself. Sit with this feeling of moral injury, now that we have a name for it, and consider what it means for you. Realizing that we may not be able to do what we believe in now is hard, and facing that we cannot do what we are trained to do is perhaps the worst part. No one got into teaching to sit on the sidelines. We won’t be here forever, and we will be back with our students and able to do what we love. Meanwhile, be kind to yourself, take deep breaths, long walks, and find ways to show your students your smiling face. </span></div>
<br />organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-73376411625666864482020-04-23T13:36:00.003-07:002020-04-23T13:36:28.900-07:00The Cloud of DoomThis winter my family began reading <i>Wayside School </i>books by Louis Sachar. My husband and I both remember reading these when we were younger, so it was a treat to dive into them and revisit all the craziness that occurs at Wayside School.<br />
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While we were checking them out of the on-line library we noticed there was a new one - The Cloud of Doom that was just released on March 3rd, 2020. More Wayside stories? We were sold.<br />
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Readers.<br />
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I want to know <i>what Louis Sachar knew when he was writing this book that the rest of us didn't.</i> In fact, I think we should start looking at any Wall Street deals he had going on and any trades he made right before the pandemic hit, because, um, the story feels pretty true to life right now.<br />
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And published ten days before we were sent into our houses under our own clouds of doom?<br />
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Yeah, someone knew something to write a book about a Cloud of Doom settling over one elementary school. Pretty much sums up where we are.<br />
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"What's the point" one of the Wayside School students asks his teacher in regards to why he should bother with his work... "The Cloud of Doom is getting bigger every day! ... What does it matter if we can spell?"<br />
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(I mean, it's like Sachar's heard every conversation happening inside the houses of all the kids trying on-line learning. "What's the point?")<br />
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The class agrees with the student until Mrs. Jewls, the teacher, replies, "<i>I understand you're scared and upset, but what's the point of quitting? We can all sit around and grumple </i>(read the book to get the joke)<i>, or we can try our best, cloud or no cloud."</i><br />
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"And it hasn't been all bad," Mrs. Jewls continued.... <i>"Someday the Cloud of Doom will be gone and the world will be a much better place, even better than before the cloud. Colors will be more colorful. Music will be even more musical. Even Miss Mush's food will taste good. The bigger the storm, the brighter the rainbow." </i><br />
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We haven't finished the book yet, so I don't know how it ends. Maybe the Cloud of Doom will eat the school and this comparison will just make me really, really depressed. But right now, we're able to joke that we are currently living in the upside down world of Wayside School, and that we can follow Msrs. Jewls' words of hope. Which may or may not be a good thing, depending on your opinion of Mrs. Jewls, her classroom management skills, and Wayside School in general.<br />
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<br />organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-75759053043222008912020-04-16T08:10:00.001-07:002020-04-16T08:11:23.067-07:00Creating Meaning Amongst the Madness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif0s76vydtsF2plFNKUmbhyphenhyphen77gG2JVY5YEQbxmtV3uHw-JWIPYKJh39TazhbY4bsn8qhYlwoJoR6DCODpZ4b8Z0CWTLZMJRIOKt9prMfkZS7F9LVqEqIAkwd3Oyl98-xYh1hcEJjHhJMfD/s1600/P4100231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif0s76vydtsF2plFNKUmbhyphenhyphen77gG2JVY5YEQbxmtV3uHw-JWIPYKJh39TazhbY4bsn8qhYlwoJoR6DCODpZ4b8Z0CWTLZMJRIOKt9prMfkZS7F9LVqEqIAkwd3Oyl98-xYh1hcEJjHhJMfD/s320/P4100231.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
My daughter's large school district went "back to school" this past Tuesday. For my kindergarten and second grader it went great. Their on-line classes were an hour, and were extremely well-run by their teachers. I was exhausted by just navigating our new schedule and helping them get online by the time my second grader finished up, but also impressed.<br />
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Then we woke up Wednesday morning. </div>
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My girls were struggling the moment they woke up, and I soon realized it was because we'd lost what we had to look forward to. For awhile, we looked forward to Easter and then as soon as Easter was over we turned our attention to starting virtual school. Once that first day was completed we woke up on Wednesday to literally <i>nothing else</i> to look forward to but the routines inside our house. Of course, my children did not express this outright themselves, but after taking a moment and feeling where we were and reflecting on a class I'd been in the night before, I put it together. We took time and planned a virtual party for them and their friends on Friday. Clearly we are going to needing to actively work on making our own events we can look forward to in these coming weeks.</div>
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The "nothing to look forward to" problem solved, I busily started the day to prepare them for getting ready for virtual school - until we got an email saying there was a two hour delay due to improving security issues. OK, we can roll with this... Then we got another email from one teacher saying they were going to meet as planned... OK, we can roll with that. Our heads were starting to spin but this was important to our kids. Then we sat down to log on ... and tried... and tried... and tried. At first the error messages we were getting were amusing because they changed each time - Access forbidden! Error - try again! Network not available! You stupid parent, why can't you log on? </div>
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All of us were in tears, trying to log on using different devices, scanning Facebook to find out if other parents were in the same boat. "Keep trying" someone recommended on facebook. But no one said they got in.</div>
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Finally we sent an email to teacher saying we loved her but that we couldn't do this anymore. We'll try again tomorrow. </div>
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It was by far the worst day of our quarantine yet. </div>
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SO, we put down our expectations and hopes of the day and just sat in our disappointment. No more rolling with it. No more "this is going to be OK!" We let ourselves just sit in the suckiness of it all. And it sucked. </div>
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Yes, it sucks that we are stuck inside and you can't finish kindergarten in person. It sucks that there will be no kindergarten parade for you. We won't have our Kentucky Derby party. We can't hug our family members. You can't do gymnastics. We can't go to the park. You can't see your friends. You can't see your teachers. You've lost your autonomy outside of our family. It just sucks. </div>
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Sometimes we need to feel it all.</div>
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And so, </div>
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we ate ice cream Sundays for lunch. </div>
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We held each other.</div>
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We colored our massive coloring page a bit.</div>
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Amazon came and delivered all the audiobooks I ordered last week. I let my children stay in their pjs, blow off their virtual taekwondo classes, and binge listen to the Boxcar Children. They listened to THREE novels. At one point my husband and I wondered what they were up to. They were so quiet we were sure they were up to no good, but we were both getting work done so we let it go. Turns out, the girls were re-organizing their bookshelves while they listened.</div>
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My husband and I recognized that our low moods were not going to let us get any more work done today so we turned off our computers and walked away. We took time for us, ordered delivery for dinner, and just sat as a family.</div>
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That night at dinner we were able to reflect on the "worst day yet", and you know what, that reflection made it all worth it. We recognized all the things we needed to do to calm down, talking about how we are problem solvers and we can get through this and do hard things - but that sometimes to do hard things you just need to breath. One of my girls commented on the fact that I was really good at taking deep breaths while we were trying to get onto their classes today - and we talked about why I'd stopped talking for a bit and just started breathing.</div>
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We made meaning of all of it. </div>
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Research and academic writing on what makes children resilient shows that resilient children are not those with perfect childhoods, perfect parents, or children who are naturally not bothered by anything. Instead, resiliency is built from recognizing hard moments, sitting with those uncomfortable feelings, and reflecting on them later. We build our resiliency when we make meaning from how we handled the conflict, or how we restored a mismatch.</div>
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Yes, we lost it and yelled at someone, we sat and cried, we ate ice cream for lunch. Now, instead of ignoring the feelings we had then, we take those moments and create meaning. </div>
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On-line learning in our district is postponed until Monday so they can work out the kinks in the system. I now know better than to put all of our hope on Monday. There will be future bad days, and there may be many of them. We can't avoid them, we can hide from them, and we can't just pretend everything is OK. </div>
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These are the moments life is based on, and these are the moments we can come together and create the meaning we will rely on to move forward with the rest of our lives. </div>
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So breath deeply, slow down, honor the feelings of sadness and despair. Sometimes we need to go slow to go fast.</div>
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<a href="https://www.popsugar.com/family/sesame-street-elmo-dad-video-for-parents-47392967">And listen to Elmo's daddy. </a></div>
organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-63890057275037822882020-04-10T09:17:00.001-07:002020-04-10T09:17:15.696-07:00stream of consciousness from a quarantined working momThere is a roller blade in the middle of our living room. Just one. Alone. Propped against the coffee table as though it's going to join in our next game of Clue. The coffee table itself is covered in a giant coloring map of the world, with markers strewn across. A taekwondo belt is in the middle of the floor, next to a pair of sun glasses. The box of Easter decorations sits nearby. Easter is on Sunday, three days from now, and the decorations are slowly being placed around the cluttered surfaces, one by one, by a bored family member.<br />
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Easter. The girls are worried that the Easter Bunny may have the corona virus, or may spread it if he comes in. And yet they still want it, and ask repeatedly, can we still do normal Easter? Just without the church and the big family dinner.<br />
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My to-do list grows by the day between my various work projects and keeping up with the family. Why does it seem so much harder to keep on top of it in our new reality? On paper we are home all day. Shouldn't it be easy to get through work, do laundry, keep up with the mess of the house and play with my kids? Doesn't my normal guilt come from the fact that I don't spend enough time with my kids. Now we are together, day in and day out. Just, with a door and a stop sign between us as I try to work and balance their needs.<br />
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Advice is everywhere, from everyone.<br />
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Cherish these moments with your children. These are the moments they'll remember when they are older - the ones where you connected with them. Let them as much TV as they want - let them indulge and they'll remember how great that was too. Make a home-school schedule (don't see too many of those out there anymore, do you?) Learn something new. Start a new project. Plan ahead for next year. Deep clean the house. Practice self-care. Manage your emotions. Breath. Wash your hands. Don't watch the news. Limit your social media. But watch enough to make sure you are learning all the advice everyone else wants to share.<br />
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When this first started, I filled my days between work and my girls. I knew I needed to stay busy, so I made sure I was. Now, I'm starting to realize the busy-ness was simply masking panic - like reorganizing the chairs on the deck of the Titanic. That's great, but what I need is to slow down enough to listen to my body and to listen to what I need.<br />
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I need an uncluttered house. A moment to dive into the deep work that drives me. I need to snuggle with my girls. Take deep breaths. I need my commute where I spent time in deep thought and listened to audiobooks and podcasts that intellectually challenged me. I need time to check facebook without feeling guilty that I'm not working, connecting with my kids, my husband, my extended family, or friends. I need permission to just be.<br />
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We all need to grieve. Be able to stand up and say "this sucks". Recognize that we are going through a grief process that no amount of creativity, organization, productivity and positive memes will mask. We've lost the world as we knew it, and that's quite a blow. We need to be able to sit with that. Not wallow in it, but sit with it. Sitting with it, naming it, talking to it, will all help us identify what we need instead of pushing it down and ignoring what is pulling at us.<br />
<br />organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-8447622577176059062020-03-27T04:21:00.000-07:002020-03-27T04:27:06.265-07:00Being Emotional Honest and a "Good Enough" Parent with COVID-19 Knocking on the Door<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In the stillness of the morning, when it is just me and my cat awake, my anxiety is the worst. The day is looming before us and so much of its success feels it will depend on my Mary Poppins Mom ability - can I pull off another magical day with the perfect balance of structure, expectations, connection, love, and spontaneous joy?<br />
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The stakes, if I cannot, feel high - there will be meltdowns during conference calls, screaming outside while the neighbors - all home to hear - will wonder what sort of monster parent I am. Will I be able to balance my own work with the needs of my children who are doing something - who knows what- somewhere in the house while I work? And the greatest fear of all - what long term implications will there be for moments of pure exhaustion and loss of patience on my part? What will my children remember from this unique time in their childhood? An invisible threat looms outside of our house and yet we are inside where it feels safe, though confusing. What memories and long-term narratives are they creating?<br />
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The first weekend - it had only been a few days into quarantining - I suddenly lost my mind and just walked out of the house for a walk. There had been no space for me amongst trying to meet their needs and in the middle of a crying fit from someone I just needed to leave. (Benefits of quarantine - my husband was there to pick up the pieces as I cry-walked around the block). What emotional damage did I do to my children in that moment?<br />
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Right before the world went into COVID-19 lockdown I was attending the opening weekend of my fellowship program in Infant Parent Mental Health at U-Mass Boston. It was an intense filled four days of lectures from people I'd only known of as expects and writers, and I was so divinely happy. It feels like so long ago now.<br />
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On Sunday, after my uber-driver and told me he didn't want to take me to the campus because he thought that was where the virus was first found in Boston (he also told me that within two weeks we'd be shut down. I laughed at his extreme thinking. It was less than a week later that school closed) I heard a lecture by Dr. Claudia Gold on Dr. Donald Winnicott. I wasn't familiar with Winnicott before, but his words spoke to me as a mom, especially as a PANDAS mom.<br />
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Winnicott, a physician and psychoanalysis, is known for his work on the "good-enough" mother. He writes that overtime, as we move away from the infant stage, our ability to be fully present and meet our children's every need decreases. We start to miss our children's cues - those same cues that we were so carefully tuned into. In the end, the "good enough parent" will meet their child's cues only 30% of the time. This isn't just referring to those basic needs of food, shelter, security, but the needs of connection. Throughout a day a "good enough" parent misses 70% of their child's cues.<br />
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<i>70%</i><br />
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That seems high.<br />
I don't want to miss 70% of my chid's cues.<br />
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And yet, Winnicott found that this was a <i>good </i>thing. Not that we should be intentionally ignoring our children's needs, but that<b> in the midst of life</b> <b>we will not be able to be perfect</b>. And it is in those moments of non-perfection that we create the room for growth and resiliency in our children. Our children need the 70% of moments we miss their cues. It is in those moments that we can come back, repair our connections, create safety, let them know that the world doesn't end when we make mistakes or their needs are not met. <i>Naturally, through mis-matched connections and then coming back together and repairing the interaction, we slowly give our children the power to be resilient. We make mistakes and then come back and reconnect. </i><br />
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<img alt="Donald Woods Winnicott quote: I would rather be the child of a ..." 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" /><br />
<br />
<br />
Right now, in the time of a global pandemic, we would do more damage if we were a perfect parent to our children. We would be showing our children that during scary, upsetting times, the best thing to do is to hide your fear, push down your anxiety, create pin-worthy activities, smile for the camera, and pretend like nothing is wrong. That is not how we want our kids to handle a crisis 30 years from now. That gives them no tools or internal narratives to fall back on when their own lives get rough.<br />
<br />
It is OK to be emotionally honest with our children. Yes, there are things that mommy doesn't know the answer to. Yes, there is a strange virus outside and we don't understand it. No, mommy doesn't know what will happen. Yes, mommy is a little scared and worried. No, this has never happened before - we don't know what will happen next. No, I don't like being quarantined either. This sucks. No, mommy should not have used that word. Yes, you will be in trouble if you use that word. But frankly, it does suck.<br />
<br />
But now let's make a list of what we do know. Let's look at what we can control. Yes, mommy stormed out of the house for a walk because she couldn't take it anymore. I probably shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry. That must have felt scary for mommy to just walk away when you were crying at her feet. Man, I'm sorry. Next time I am going to try to find some space for myself before I get so upset that I need to leave. I'll try to pay attention to where my worry is. I think it's in my chest - have you found where you keep your worries in your body? Where do you feel it first?<br />
I feel a lot of that right now - that worry in my chest, that moves to my stomach. But you know what? when we are together - cuddling - reading books and talking? It makes me feel better. That worry goes away. Because what we do know is that we are together, and that inside these walls we can take care of one another. We will get upset - these are tough times. And we can't control our feelings. We can't stop the worry or the frustration of being stuck here away from our friends. But we can control what we do with those. What gives us joy? I notice you find joy in creating art projects. What can we create together tomorrow? I wish I could do it with you all day, but I have so many boring meetings. Let's find a time in my schedule that I can be with you - no phone, facebook, meeting, or to-do list and we can create your masterpiece. I wish it could be all day, and I wish I didn't have to work so much on the computer when I could be with you. It must be strange to know I'm behind the door with the sign that says "Mommy is closed". When you feel sad about that check the schedule - know that I will come back out of that door and we'll play together soon, OK?<br />
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<br />organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-55244898841579844202020-03-25T03:51:00.002-07:002020-03-25T03:51:45.637-07:00HeartbreakOn Monday the governor of our state announced that schools would be closed for the remainder of the year.<br />
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My initial reaction to this was "There is no way you can expect me to break that news to my children. At all. The governor himself is going to need to come to my house, and standing six feet away from us, break my children's little hearts."<br />
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Realizing that in this time of a global pandemic the governor is not going house to house, I finally put on my big girl parenting pants and told them myself.<br />
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My second grader took it like a champ. I was surprised by this because every single day we have been home she has said she wants to go back to school. She has one of those magical second year teachers who is full of energy and excitement and has made my daughter feel like second grade is life. Over Christmas vacation all my daughter talked about was going back to school.<br />
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My kindergartner took the news a little harder. She nodded, then said she needed to go to bed. It was 3:30 in the afternoon. We got her up for her on-line book club, and then she went back to bed. We caught her on and off sneaking back to bed over the afternoon. She looked at dinner and cried, "I don't know why, but I just can't eat."<br />
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I'm watching my little six year old experience her first true heartbreak.<br />
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On my oldest's last day of kindergarten she announced it was the worst day of her life. At the end of the day, when I asked her what she did that day, she told me she cried.<br />
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"When did you cry?" I asked, assuming it was the beginning of the day.<br />
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"I started when my teacher put up the 0 for 0 more days of school. I never stopped." Oh baby girl.<br />
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There is a magic to kindergarten. Even though both of my girls had gone to full day preschools and had amazing experiences with strong pre-K teachers, there is still something about kindergarten itself. I don't know if it is being old enough to be in the big school and ride a bus, or something about the developmental age, but kindergarten changed both of my children. They grew that year. They leaned into the person they are becoming and discovered interests they didn't have. Both of their classrooms had strong communities that made kindergarten feel like another family.<br />
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For my youngest, that ended too soon. The school has not started any virtual experiences yet as they work to get themselves organized and all of the on-line platforms up and running. I'm hoping once they do there will be more of a sense of connection and community.<br />
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In the meantime, I have very sad children who are truly mourning a loss.<br />
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That afternoon I let them binge watch Mr. Rogers and I curled up with a favorite book because I needed a bit of comfort too. All of this - all of the upside downness that is happening for all of us - is a loss. As parents and teachers we are trying to stand tall and take care of those around us, but we have to recognize our own feelings of loss as well. If we don't let ourselves grieve, we won't be emotionally available for our kids who need us the most.<br />
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It's hard right now. All of it. The closed schools, the trapped at home, the unknown future, the scary news stories. It's hard and scary. It's OK for it to be hard and for us to acknowledge it is hard. Yes, this sucks. We are heartbroken. We are sad and lost and scared. We have to recognize how hard it is so that we can take the next step. We can do hard things. We've got this. Together. One step at a time.organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-15602097635166845522020-03-23T10:10:00.000-07:002020-03-23T10:10:13.298-07:00COVID-19 - How is everyone holding up?So. This is... a new experience. I hope everyone out there is staying sane, healthy, and able to maintain access to whatever fills your cup - whether it is moments alone (which are hard in a house packed with kids) or moments with others (that is hard when you are an extrovert and stranded alone in your house).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBcfPvgU7xbU8hC-RzpjSXA9WS4TAzmmU1Xx1JttlaAVeGwdaR8KVpaJhkiI88prisgo_FEr9Z2SAiwkMXT5uA6plWHYVLyVRR-hQc4NGM9hJapLAdDthJnp2jEYUSYogYP8Y-t8E33WNr/s1600/IMG_3809-799220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBcfPvgU7xbU8hC-RzpjSXA9WS4TAzmmU1Xx1JttlaAVeGwdaR8KVpaJhkiI88prisgo_FEr9Z2SAiwkMXT5uA6plWHYVLyVRR-hQc4NGM9hJapLAdDthJnp2jEYUSYogYP8Y-t8E33WNr/s320/IMG_3809-799220.jpg" width="240" /></a>We survived the first week, and after initially getting over the disappointment of canceled parties, playdates, and school, my girls have been enjoying themselves - somewhat. One of them looked at us with a confused glance last night when we made a comment about how this was something we just had to get through. In her six year old eyes this is a pretty good gig (at the moment) and she doesn't see why being stuck at home with no schedule or responsibilities is a problem.<br />
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Of course, we have two full-time working parents, so suddenly trying to take four people's lives and force them into an on-line schedule with only two computers and one struggling internet has been a cognitive task that should get all of us into Mensa. We went into survival mode, and survival mode needed to encourage independence, allow for free play AND school work, and of course, together time when possible.<br />
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Knowing my kids' personalities and what they need to stay busy, we implemented two different systems to fill their days while we try to continue to handle our full time jobs.<br />
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The first is a to-do list with a total of ten items on it. Something to do with reading, something to do with writing, something to do with math, something to do with a content (science/social studies), then help mommy, help daddy, do something kind, play outside and practice the piano.<br />
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Every time they complete four tasks (or tickets) they can turn them in for screen time. At the moment it is educational screen time, but I'm sure eventually we'll move to anything. We are in survival mode. Let's be real.<br />
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This is working for us because one of my girls loves schedules, so with this she can plan her day and make out her schedule. She likes to choose what will go on the to-do list the night before, choosing what she will read, what sort of writing activity she will do, what math project she'll play. She gets a deep sense of satisfaction from this list.<br />
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My other child is more of a free spirit. She doesn't need the guidance from the list and often doesn't realize how much she's completed until we sit down and go over it with her.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuIwW7NhnoLsbeBKCbgznXBNjNuPmO2GCe3mi5xFQ5v7xrFNZNW1PNF6mtcovIar86Cqs965n-rRr35bgUqy4ET70XLdTrUO1g5RltVZLuUTXl0wYQoGCaHDrL3jN-5DhXB7bVuIEy1CY5/s1600/IMG_3810-701081.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuIwW7NhnoLsbeBKCbgznXBNjNuPmO2GCe3mi5xFQ5v7xrFNZNW1PNF6mtcovIar86Cqs965n-rRr35bgUqy4ET70XLdTrUO1g5RltVZLuUTXl0wYQoGCaHDrL3jN-5DhXB7bVuIEy1CY5/s320/IMG_3810-701081.jpg" width="240" /></a>Our other current COVID-19 hack is that each girl also has a bingo board. This is how we are surviving. The boxes include anything from "Left Mommy alone when she was working", to "put on a puppet show" "took a bath" "got mad at my sister but just walked away", "did two worksheets", and"got myself a snack"<br />
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Ever since we implemented these we haven't heard an "I'm bored". The girls enjoy choosing what to do, and realizing that if they are trying to decide between playing dollhouse or an art project they can game out the system and strategically do something to make sure they get a bingo. Bingo = two chocolate kisses. Yes, candy. It's working. Back off.<br />
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BINGO gives the right amount of structure mixed with choice, kind of like a menu. While I am happy to share what I've done with you, I created it quickly in google docs using a 5 x 5 table. It's not fancy, but it's keeping us sane!<br />
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What are your parenting hacks these days?<br />
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<br />organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-66158483591118788972020-02-23T11:58:00.000-08:002020-02-23T11:58:37.749-08:00Family Point SystemA few people have asked about my family's morning point system. It's something we started over a year ago, and it works for us. Every family is different and has different needs, but this is how we currently stay sane on weekday mornings.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS4_HIaMD78NMRhc83s83pAWQhhZ8krTSxuDOcsgOTZP-scREBMG5RVtt-SvmdVlAiEHXN_TOy3VnkagXXNpuoo7cUYeOZPDV1_TuxyIrX140FSboJLNZhyphenhyphensnEBSnSJ_6Oj-Uxvm1fMCIg/s1600/IMG_3385.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS4_HIaMD78NMRhc83s83pAWQhhZ8krTSxuDOcsgOTZP-scREBMG5RVtt-SvmdVlAiEHXN_TOy3VnkagXXNpuoo7cUYeOZPDV1_TuxyIrX140FSboJLNZhyphenhyphensnEBSnSJ_6Oj-Uxvm1fMCIg/s320/IMG_3385.jpg" width="240" /></a>At some point last year I decided I was tired of spending the morning yelling at my children in order to get out of the house. At that point, the only incentive I had to get them to move faster in the morning was the fear of KISS AND RIDE. I basically had my children believing that the kiss and ride line involved a terrifying fire-breathing dragon and if we missed the bus life would basically end. (I mean, we are lucky enough to have a bus - I am NOT waiting in that ridiculous line of cars just because you couldn't get your shoes on fast enough. Run Girls! Run!) In actuality, the kiss and ride line isn't that bad, but still. No one has time for that.<br />
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I considered giving up all together and just letting us be late, but since I work that didn't make sense either.<br />
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Instead, we went to a morning point sheet. Each girl earns points individually based around two basic requirements - that she moves quickly and acts with love. At the end of the week, the points are pooled together for a family experience over the weekend. It's a group contingency plan - no one is winning or losing, and they are working towards an experience we can do as a family. This is key because it fosters working together to earn something together, instead of competing with one another.<br />
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<b>The Nuts and Bolts:</b><br />
Our morning is divided into the three critical breaking points for us - the upstairs time (getting dressed, brushing hair, putting on shoes, getting out of bed), the breakfast period (you know, just EATING the breakfast), and then leaving the house (getting your backpack and leaving the house on time).<br />
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There are only two official rules - Move Quickly and Act with Love. Both of these cover a variety of sins, distractibility, feet-dragging, and "don't want to get out of bed" moments. Each period gives each girl a chance to earn 3 points - one for acting quickly, one for acting with love, and one that is parent discretion. Over time, this has moved to include things like clearing the breakfast dishes or making the bed - things that weren't even in the cards when we started this, but now we can add on.<br />
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You will not earn points for "acting with love" if you yell at your sister, your parent, or even the cat - if you ignore someone talking to you, say something mean, etc. You may wake up grumpy and that's fine, but you cannot take it out on the rest of us.<br />
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On the other hand, you may be as loving as possible, but if you sit there telling us how much you love us and don't actually get dressed or follow the morning routine, then you won't earn points for moving quickly.<br />
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So each day there are 18 points possible - 9 for each girl. At the end of the week 90 points is a perfect score, and my girls decided the best possible experience is dessert at the American Girl store. (Other than actually driving to Tysons, their desserts are reasonably priced so this isn't actually extravagant). 85-89 points gets us ice cream out as a family<br />
80-84 points gets us ice cream in as a family<br />
75-79 points is a cookie treat at home<br />
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<b>Why it works for us:</b><br />
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<u>Teaches us to forgive ourselves:</u><br />
The system is set up so that even bad days can be recovered from, so that no one can just give up on Friday. I also have one child who always wants a perfect score, no matter what she is doing. I intentionally set it up as having so many points so that she can see it is OK to miss one or two here and there. It's OK to forget your breakfast dishes one morning of the week - we all make mistakes. (And thank goodness, I couldn't handle the AG store weekly).<br />
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C<u>hanges our parenting language:</u><br />
What I love about our point system is that it lets us work as a team toward a common goal in the morning. It changes the conversation from "PUT ON YOUR SHOES!" to "Let's get our points for this week! What do we need to do to get all of our points?" and "Don't forget - you need to be down stairs by 7:30 to get all three points. What do you need to do before then?"<br />
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The "don't use that tone of voice with me" response became "I'm going to remind you to act with love."<br />
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<u>Supporting Teamwork</u><br />
Most importantly - they will occasionally help each other out - clear one another's dishes, help each other find their book bags, or shoes. Of course, there are times they are totally ready to let their sister suffer the consequences of losing points, but at other times they do step in and help each other out.<br />
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Yes, I wish we could have perfectly peaceful mornings without a point system, but this lets us work towards a common goal, supports our constant message that perfection isn't the goal but working hard is, AND gives us an excuse to eat ice cream, all while preventing me from yelling.<br />
<br />organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-1477587598237557572019-09-23T18:05:00.000-07:002019-09-23T18:05:00.440-07:00School Restraint From Every Side of the Fence (PANDAS Parent)We've had a few great weeks, which in my PANDAS-parent mind just makes me ridiculously nervous for the other shoe to drop. What if school is actually horrible and no one has told me? What if my child is terrorizing the teacher, and I have no idea.<div>
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I watch them like a hawk, limit their diet, hold my breath when they say goodbye to me on the bus, and drive their teachers crazy with emails. I don't even recognize myself as a parent. When things are good, it's hard to relax. Can I trust that it is good? What if it isn't? What if this one moment of sassiness is the beginning of a downward spiral?</div>
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Awhile ago I found myself in a situation at a school where the school team had to make a decision about how to manage a child's behavior. It was a tricky situation, and all of us who were responding were stuck between how we'd been trained to respond, and the newer philosophies of co-regulating with an upset child instead of holding firm on an expectation.</div>
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We sat there uncomfortably, looking at each other. We all wanted to <a href="https://www.livesinthebalance.org/">"Ross Green"</a> it, but it went against everything we'd been previously taught - and human instinct to "be in charge". We were the adults. We should be able to make a child follow the rules. We should be in charge. And after all, most of us had been in this situation before, where we'd been trained to use restraint on a child. </div>
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Even in the moment, we talked through what would happen if we used restraint. It would only escalate the situation. No good would come out of it, other than making us feel like we had some sort of control. One of us would most likely get hurt, which would cause a chain reaction of events. The child, who was already terrified and responding in a fright/flight/freeze manner, would only become more traumatized. Restraint would forever change how this child saw school and the adults in it.</div>
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We took the time to talk through, and even though it felt uncomfortable to wait, we waited. We waited and breathed, in and out, catching our breath with his, until his breathing slowed down and his body calmed. We gained trust, and we slowly, gently, walked back to where we needed to be.</div>
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With every breath I matched with his, I thought of my own daughter. Will she have adults think through their responses as we had? Will her teachers be willing to put aside the "I'm in charge" immediate reaction and look deeper into the consequences of harsh responses? Or will they decide to impose their will, take a stand, and escalate it? </div>
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In those moments, I was so aware of my own decision making process. It was uncomfortable to choose to wait, and yet I fully believe it was the right decision. Yet how many times have we not chosen to wait? We act fast, never wanting to be seen as letting a child manipulate or get away with something. There is something gravely wrong with the fact that sitting with an upset child felt wrong. This is what we, as educators, need to understand. Now that films like The Kids We Lose have come out and we are called to do better, we need to recognize that co-regulation goes against what we've been previously trained to do.</div>
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So, as a parent, I wait for the phone to ring, telling me to come get my out of control child. I pray that the adults with her are as patient and understanding as our team was for our child. If they are not, the consequences are dire - much as they are for children all over the country who struggle with restraint and seclusion. </div>
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I have no indication so far that in kindergarten that she will require such intervention, but PANDAS has made me scared of what could come. I live in fear of PANDAS rage occurring at school, and not knowing how teams will respond.</div>
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organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-17054748568881596602019-08-28T12:22:00.001-07:002019-08-28T12:22:20.275-07:00First Day WorriesI found I couldn't write about the start of kindergarten, because my emotions were too big, and my thoughts were too scary. Having been in the school system for years, I intellectually know that everything should be fine - but I also very well know just how bad it can get when it goes badly. And, well... I knew there was a very, very good chance things could go badly just as easily as they could go well.<br />
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It was hard to put my feelings into words. When my oldest went to kindergarten, I was nervous, worried, and a bit emotional for her growing up. Normal parent feelings.<br />
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With my youngest, who now has PANDAS? I was terrified. Although many of my worries sounded like typical new kindergarten parent worries, they went so much deeper than that. In a way, I couldn't share my worries because people would say "Don't worry, mom, it will be OK." But those reassuring platitudes just don't help. And they only serve to further separate me - or all of us parents on the other side of the fence - with those parents are the "right side". I honestly don't think my husband and I slept at all the night before school started. You over there, on the "right side" of the fence - the one with the green grass - you've never driven up to the school, scared to go in to hear the behavior report from the day.<br />
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The first day of kindergarten should be emotional on the parents because it means your baby is growing up - not because you are scared of how your child might react in a group, and how the adults may treat your child after she reacts. This disease stole the sweet childhood moment from us.<br />
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My poor PANDA. The first thing she said to me when I picked her up on the first day was, "Mommy! I didn't go to the principal's office!" A wave of relief came over me, and I cheered out loud in the after school room, even though I hadn't realized that I was worried about that.<br />
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Her favorite books to listen to are Junie B. Jones, Ramona Quimby books, Roscoe Riley, and Clementine - all strong characters who mean well but end up in big trouble. So, I suppose it wasn't a big surprise that she thought she'd end up there. But I think her fear was deeper than that. She knows that she has trouble controlling her anger - and she knows how preschool went. I think she was just as terrified as her father and I were of what could happen in kindergarten.<br />
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So far, so good. She says she loves school and her teacher, and for the last two days we've seen some of her old personality come out. The confident, happy girl we had a year ago. So far, two days in, kindergarten has been good for her.<br />
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Knock on wood.<br />
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Just having the first two days behind us has been a relief. I'm sleeping better - focusing on my work better - my anxiety is calm. Yet even now, at pick up time, I feel it coming back. Will we have another good day - or did things go wrong today?organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-57051930836751255032019-08-07T12:56:00.001-07:002019-08-07T12:56:37.431-07:00And then there are good days (PANDAS Post)One of the hardest things I've found about the PANDAS world is the good days. It sounds crazy, but it's such a reminder of who are kids are underneath the PANDAS. We'll have weeks where it feels like our children are lost. And then, the stars line up, the antibiotics work, inflammation decreases, whatever they ate didn't feed the inflammation, and our children are back. Laughing, problem solving, being snarky, funny, sweet, trouble makers - themselves. The kids we know.<br />
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In the dark times, it can seem as though PANDAS isn't a real thing - that this is just life, and that we've made it up as an escape goat for our struggles. And then, we get them back, even if only for a short time - and we remember that this is a real thing. We didn't do this.<br />
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Which means, we can't fix it by punishing the brain inflammation out of them, or by being kinder, more attached, stricter, firmer, have boundaries, etc. that will make the brain inflammation go away.<br />
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Every night we sit and think about the day. "What did we do wrong?" "How could we have changed that situation to help her handle the rage better?"<br />
"Did we do this?"<br />
"What did we do to cause this?"<br />
"Maybe if we have firmer limits..."<br />
"Maybe if I quit my job and stay home more..."<br />
"Maybe if we are more understanding..."<br />
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While I do think that we improve our situation by reflecting on our day to day interactions so that we become better at helping them emotionally regulate - we can go down a dark parenting rabbit hole.<br />
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And then there are moments when we see that we aren't crazy. We didn't do this (I mean, we can always be better parents, but can't everyone?) But we can't punish and limit away the PANDAS. When we see our kids without inflammation, we realize that we are doing OK as parents. They are great kids, and are learning to respect boundaries, be kind, and stay emotionally regulated just like all other kids are.<br />
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It's hard to watch them be who they are, knowing that they just missed weeks of this type of typical behavior. They can't get back these years that are being stolen from them by the inflammation. Why can't every day be like the normal days? The age-appropriate trouble maker days, when they act like every other five or seven year old kid?<br />
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But I hold onto these good moments too. Because we know they are there, and exist. The sweet, sister laughter from dinner the other night has carried with me all week.organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175684769476781639.post-74453864482740466722019-08-07T12:40:00.001-07:002019-08-07T12:40:16.309-07:00Tinkering for All Developmental StagesOver the last four weeks, I've been busy with a social group connected to a summer camp. It was my first opportunity to run this group within the camp setting, and I enjoyed every moment of it!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglbUrgckRB3hihWc3F_b-gWwgt0jqS6iJdR5iIyaJfeu75n3T-Eee1nJ4Zb7SnWsuBvlzgmcINknGhZ0KBjQHYyW81pJpjUF-H5kitN0yAxQ8_jSw9tQaNRSNwm15SGwTjb286iebOCU4t/s1600/IMG_0924+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglbUrgckRB3hihWc3F_b-gWwgt0jqS6iJdR5iIyaJfeu75n3T-Eee1nJ4Zb7SnWsuBvlzgmcINknGhZ0KBjQHYyW81pJpjUF-H5kitN0yAxQ8_jSw9tQaNRSNwm15SGwTjb286iebOCU4t/s320/IMG_0924+2.JPG" width="320" /></a>However, I quickly realized in my first days at the camp that my original plans were not going to work. The work I traditionally use with social groups did not hit this group of children in the right developmental capacity, nor did it interest them. My plans either asked them to access an area of development they were not secure in yet, or provided no challenge or active engagement for them. I needed another plan.<br />
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After watching them and what drew their attention, I finally realized what our focus would be - creating experiments for objects that roll!<br />
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We started making ramps for cars, and experimenting with just how high we could make the ramps, how fast we could get the cars to go, and whether or not we could knock over other objects with the cars if we aimed just right. (Melissa and Doug chunky piece puzzles are great for making "bowling" for animals activities).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijelMZq4sDMzpQm3OkeOv3Ed1cHhC5u4OsynF-bIavTi9Fu4KUZKcv_Iwr3ugaSyFNSer3f_83WQEJrZjjI82GWzqxwQkfZ_shM7GSqBD8V3Cv7OXQlrYPQZt9CPkNFHpYfAAXwHwu1FT2/s1600/IMG_0950+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijelMZq4sDMzpQm3OkeOv3Ed1cHhC5u4OsynF-bIavTi9Fu4KUZKcv_Iwr3ugaSyFNSer3f_83WQEJrZjjI82GWzqxwQkfZ_shM7GSqBD8V3Cv7OXQlrYPQZt9CPkNFHpYfAAXwHwu1FT2/s320/IMG_0950+3.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
Then, we transitioned into making marble runs. These were my absolute favorite. Initially, we took small tubes (toilet paper, paper towel, etc) that were split down the center and taped them onto a cardboard box. This worked great, but involved a lot of tape and made it more difficult to adjust when we realized there was a mistake. Out of sheer luck, I realized that the sticky side of contact paper is actually strong enough to hold up a toilet paper tubes. With that realization, I was able to tape the paper to the wall, sticky-side out, and then let the kids stick the tubes onto the paper. This made it much easier to experiment with different angles and designs, and allowed the engineers to make changes faster.<br />
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I love this activity so much that I've been using it with all of my clients - in and outside of groups.<br />
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Why?<br />
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Typically, the work we do when we tinker and create objects out of cardboard boxes, requires a child to have symbolic thought, or the understanding that one object can represent another object. Yet some children who are still developing this capacity might need more support to understand that their box can become a house or a school. They may make it, but do not fully understand what they are doing, making the activity not as meaningful, and their motivation not as strong.<br />
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Yet - with or without a strong sense of symbolic thought - everyone can engage in the excitement of rolling objects, whether they are cars or balls. We can roll objects down hill, push them up a ramp, watch how they fall off, and create obstacles that will change the way the object rolls. This is an immediate cause and effect experience.<br />
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Children with symbolic thought can understand they are making ramps for toy cars, and can add toy towns or storylines to their creations. Children who are not ready for that yet, can still be pulled into an activity of rolling the cars or balls.<br />
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This also becomes a back and forth engagement activity, if we (the adult or play partner) roll the ball/car to the child and they roll it back. Each time we can change the speed, path, or method we roll the ball/car.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV99nuegvJOtE8aZGkwwNn6lOe1FO9XmcFeIYRWNYH73Ko3yxP7JxRRyY19ZDYZD5iVqSxQM2w-diUph88h-5tVtt6BtRMXD1h9BZmpIUCP1iaAviuLZed4gfsKRvm5JH0uozlnIgViH8c/s1600/IMG_0974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV99nuegvJOtE8aZGkwwNn6lOe1FO9XmcFeIYRWNYH73Ko3yxP7JxRRyY19ZDYZD5iVqSxQM2w-diUph88h-5tVtt6BtRMXD1h9BZmpIUCP1iaAviuLZed4gfsKRvm5JH0uozlnIgViH8c/s320/IMG_0974.JPG" width="320" /></a>Once a child is engaged with creating obstacles for rolling items, I can transition them into making a marble run. (Some children do not need the transition - they can start with the marble run immediately).<br />
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Creating this lets us work on forward thinking - what will happen if I put this tube here? - analyzing problems - well, the ball just fell, I wonder why - identifying possible solutions - what if I move this closer? and continued problem solving.<br />
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Through this activity I have heard such great language in terms of "that didn't work, I better try again." "ACK! This is frustrating. OK, if I have space to think, I'll figure this out." and "Hey! Something isn't working.... we better try again!"<br />
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The activity allows for just enough frustration that a child can work on experiencing that feeling of plans not working, while also practicing finding additional solutions.<br />
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I love when I find an activity that meets children where they are, allows for shared social problem solving, practice in emotional regulation - and - is an activity I love to do too. (No really, you have to try it. I have to sit on my hands so I don't take over the creation myself.)<br />
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<br />organized chaoshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18050635225751382130noreply@blogger.com0