Saturday 30 November 2013

Spontaneous, Meaningful Writing

This evening I found an A5 sized card with a password I had written earlier in the
week, so the boys could independently access a game server, with extra print
upon it.

I was excited about the sudden physical evidence of the boys' writing, however I
was unclear as to whom had done the writing. It looked like T(10)'s hand, yet the
content is something I know K(7) has been working with.
I took the card to where the boys were busy, and stated that I wanted to be sure
I filed it correctly, and queried whose folder I should put it in. With a few
clarification questions from me in response to their answers, I determined the
following.

T(10) wished to be able to change the settings while engaged with Minecraft, and
finding the process of clicking menu, and then clicking through to the correct submenu
in order to do so, time consuming and laborious, he enquired of K(7) how
to do so while in game. K(7) knew how, yet struggled to articulate. The boys
developed the effective strategy of K(7) slowly typing the command, while T(10)
wrote it out on the card.

For the purpose of publishing on the internet, I cropped out the password for security reasons

Saturday 12 October 2013

Intervention Time ?

There are numerous things that attract me to Unschooling or Natural Learning. One of those is that the learner is able to know themselves. This is a luxury I felt I was  never allowed as a child, a teen, a young adult, and something I did not really feel free to learn until my mid thirties.  I am delighted that I am able to discover myself, 35 is better than never,. Starting this late, it is a difficult process.In order to do so requires me to UNlearn a lot of things first.

I am endeavouring to minimise the need for my children to unlearn later in life. How much more efficient if they simply learn themselves in the first place. It will leave them with an abundance of energy for learning and exploring new things in their adult lives, and expanding their horizons from a solid foundation of self awareness and self understanding. Numerous educational and behavioural psychologists, as well as neuro-scientists and other related sciences have noted that children learn many things from their family and the environment in which they grow up.

I confess I find this terrifying. I want to raise my children to learn themselves, yet am struggling to actively demonstrate knowing my needs, wants, limitations and abilities, while simultaneously providing the services my children have identified and expressed a need for, and those that as the adult in the house are my responsibility. I reassure myself that the very fact that I am trying to do these things, and discussing them with the boys, while not ideal, is the best I am able to do, and that I should honour that. On good days, I can even accept that.

The latter half of term 3 I had a few medical appointments that required me to be sedated (by my choice) thus needed my husband to take time off work, and the boys to spend some time with friends, while my husband accompanied me to these appointments.. This had quite an impact on the boys, particularly T(10). When first discussing what was going to be happening, he looked horrified and asked if it meant I could die. NO!. I was quite clear that this was highly unlikely, and that all going well, things would at worst, stay the same, yet hopefully better. There did however need to be some changes for a period of time.

I needed to rest more, and the boys have always stated a desire for more opportunities to access the PC. Despite my initial (pre-children) days of "No child of mine is going to have screen exposure until they are at least 6 years old", both my boys have ample opportunity to engage in screen based technology. Most notable, at 2 1/2 my eldest was able to take photos on the digital camera, upload them onto the PC, and then print them out. At a similar age, the younger was starting to instruct daddy just where to place the Plants to repel the imminent Zombie attack. At age 4, the younger went through a phase of wanting to do nothing but play the Lego Kingdoms game on the Nintendo DS. That was a testing period for me. Would I be able to honour the principles of Natural Learning, and not restrict his access. Turns out the answer is "mostly yes" and he did reach a point when he had finished the game, and since, he has rarely touched the DS.

This was an important learning curve for me, in proving that what I had read, is how it happens, if you allow it to happen. When it comes to PC time however, there are other considerations that need to be taken into account... The fact that everyone in the house wants to use the PC, yet there are not enough PCs to go around. It is a limited and highly prized resource. Another factor is that when one is fully engaged in an activity, objective time awareness ceases to exist. It may feel like a few moments. Similarly, when one is waiting to access this potentially engaging experience, objective time ceases to exist. the same 'brieg moment' of the active engaged mind is a seeming eternity to the waiting mind. We found the most effective way of dealing with this objectively, and without the need for parents to be 100% vigilant at all times, was to install a programme that allows each person a prescribed period of access, and warns a few times prior to switching off at that time.

Taking into consideration that given opportunities to pursue their interests as much as they want, would enable them to become engaged and absorbed, while providing opportunities to learn their limits, and my need for more rest, we agreed that extending the boys PC time would be a sound strategic move. I worried that T(10) in particular would become overwhelmed, as we have noticed in the past that the more PC time he gets, the more his ability to cope with adversity and his feelings becomes compromised. I worried that as we are effectively still placing limits on access... deemed necessary due to the limited availability of a high demand resource, as well as the historic evidence of T's  decreasing ability to cope would potentially create a situation of unmanageable adversity for the family.

We have reached that point.

Initially it seemed to be going well. T would at times remove himself from the PC and come and talk with me, or engage in another activity. He would comment that he noticed he was feeling a bit headachey, or bored. I was feeling good about how things were developing. Then the boys discovered a new element of Minecraft. From that point it was all on. we had a brief side trip into making paper craft models of minecraft components, however the creative possibilities with paper minecraft was significantly more restricted than in the PC Minecraft world.

Towards the end of last term, I had observed T's resilience crumbling. I have observed K's ability to empathise take a down turn. These are a troublesome combination. It is clear that neither lad is currently able to objectively identify the situation. A combination of being neurally overwhelmed and intense subjectivity. I had anticipated the term break, with the absence of weekly out-of-home commitments as an opportunity to unwind and recalibrate, thinking the out of home commitments were wearing them down. The opposite has happened.

After two weeks of term break, the boys both seem more out of sorts. The fact that daddy is very busy at work as they prepare for the official release, and his absence at conferences and overtime is certainly a contributing factor. It seems to me that the boys are spiralling out of control. I have a responsibility as their parent, and educator, to provide some means of change, to prevent further spiralling, and enable us all to get back in sync with ourselves.

One option before me, is to further remove limitations on their PC access. I claim to be an Unschooler, and I have been labelled by others as a "Radical Unschooler". My understanding is that by further removing those limits, I would be honouring the unschooling process, and actually allowing my children to discover their own limits, which I have thus far only paid lip service to.

Another option, and this is the one I am drawn to, is to either move the current limitations to a shorter period, or a different time frame. I feel that the boys have reached a point where they will not actually be able to self-regulate. I feel that they need an intervention from their parents, to get them back to a point where they are able t make beneficial decisions. Take the time to actively model healthy alternatives and practices. Once the boys have experienced this, and are demonstrably on a more even keel emotionally, and then explore options and opportunities for less restrictive PC access.

I can not however ignore the fact that that the first option seems more in tune with what I proclaim my philosophy and goals to be. The first option is the one that creates a fear response in me. The first option effectively eliminates all my 'control'. The very thing I least wish to  impose, and most fear to lose.

Neither can I ignore that the boys' current state resembles that of a substance junkie, unable to make sensible, healthy decisions. The time when rehabilitation experts advocate Intervention.


I have discussed this with my husband. We agree something needs to change. He has taken the boys out to a playground for fresh air, and some time with daddy. When they return home, if everyone is in the right head space, we will have a family discussion, and see what happens from there.






Monday 7 October 2013

Knock Knock; Who's There? Dr; Doctor who? Dr Doctor...

Some time ago, when first introduced to knock knock jokes, it was abundantly clear that some of the finer points of a good ( I do use the phrase very loosely ) knock knock joke were beyond the comprehension of either of our lads. I confess that at the time I did not recognise which skill had been missing. The last week or so, the boys re-discovered this genre of jokes. K(7) asked his dad to tell jokes, and with the help of the www, Carl obliged.

Knock Knock jokes have been around for a long time, and most adults will see the weak humour and smile indulgently at others' emerging attempts at sharing humour. When I hear my child(ren) erupting in belly shaking laughter and giggles the joke's value rises significantly in my estimation. The notable difference this re-discovery of Knock knock jokes is K(7)'s ability to understand the wordplay. His language comprehension has expanded considerably since the initial discovery of the jokes three years ago. This increased language knowledge is demonstrated by his response to the joke.

After hearing a few this time around, he clearly recognised the word play, as every now and then he would not laugh. In these instances, he would ask for the meaning of a word or phrase within the joke, and upon receiving the required information, he would either smile, or laugh, or ask for the joke to be repeated. Then he would laugh, the finer nuance comprehended.

My initial delight however is now waning. Every day, K(7) will repeat the jokes he favours most highly. Apparently my low key response was insufficient. I believe he thinks I do not understand the joke, and so he goes to some length to explain to me why the joke is funny. Initially this irked me. How to explain to him that I was not laughing because over my 41 years of life I have heard that particular joke so many times, that the novelty has worn off, and it just is not that funny? The simple answer, was also the obvious one. You do NOT do so.

While Knock Knock and Dr Doctor jokes ARE old hat to me, it is new and exciting for him. Just as when he was an infant and we shared the wonder at the first sight of bubbles, and birds, and wind on the face, the feel of sand, the sight of surf pounding on the sandy beach, and taste of new food elicited wonder and smiles in us both, so too should the equally exciting discovery of punnery and word play and social nuances that are inherent in these jokes. It was being present and being involved in, and sharing wondrous new discoveries with my children in their early childhood that attracted me to home schooling, and especially the 'Un-schooling' or 'Natural Learning' pedagogy. My boys' new experiences are more intangible and cerebral as they get older, they are however no less wondrous and exciting.

Unexpectedly, my not informing him that I do understand the joke and find it far from novel provides me with an excellent opportunity to gain a better understanding of the extent of his comprehension. Here is an example:

K(7) "Dr Doctor, everyone keeps ignoring me
(as the dr) Next please"

he explains to me. 'It's funny because the dr is ignoring him too"

Dr Doctor I feel like an egg

hmm, let's see if we can crack this case

"It's funny because you crack an egg, and crack this case means finding an answer."

T(10) too has been demonstrating his understanding of the finer points of the jokes. He has always enjoyed creating amusement for, and laughter in, others. His social awareness, and challenges in verbal expression result in him frequently utilising physical humour, as this bypasses the need to speak. As he listens to K's chatter on the subject, I think he realises that the familiarity of the same format of these jokes make an enticing, and less challenging, introduction to verbal humour, demonstrated as he tries to create his own jokes.

During our last foray into the world of knock knock jokes, his attempts were nonsensical. The punch line would bear no relation to the start of the joke. This demonstrated more clearly than anything else, that many of the words, ideas, and nuances of the jokes were completely missed. This time around, he is slowly sculpting ideas together. He appears to have a few ideas in his head of words that work together, and then he slowly states the aspects. Listening to him develop from

Dr Doctor, I think I am an egg, crack uhm... Dr Doctor I think I am an egg, Lets crack this, uhmmm Dr Doctor I feel like an egg, hmm, let's see if we can crack this case.

The observant reader will note that this is the joke that K(7) then explained to me.



I anticipate my boys will persist with these jokes for a while. There will be frequent repetition, and explanations as they deem them necessary. As they learn and live, I shall continue to love, laugh and learn alongside them. I shall endeavour to enjoy their explorations, appreciate their efforts,and value that these are, for them, fresh new discoveries.

Friday 9 August 2013

Still Breathing

IT's been along time since I have written.
There's a reason for this.
I am in pain.
I had an accident on February 5th 2013, and it's been along time 'healing'. I have been improving, and getting my independence back slowly but surely. However I have had to prioritise my activity, to the things that NEED to be done. Anything that constitutes repetitive movement, or refined fine motor control has aggravated my pain in my dominant arm/hand and the adjoined neck and shoulder. think about most of the day to day activities around the house, and you'll quickly realise that most of them are exactly that...

9 days ago I went to see a musculo-skeletal specialist. Apparently I have all the hallmarks of a prolapsed C6. In layman's terms: the nerve that sits here is permanently squished between two vertebrae. Ouch.

This coming Tuesday I'll be having an MRI to confirm the diagnosis. Once confirmed, I'll be scheduled for surgery to put a separator between the vertebrae to relieve the pressure. The specialist tells me that most people recover very quickly, with the pain gone almost immediately.

I am terrified of the MRI, as I am very claustrophobic. Surgery always has elements of risk, and that thought is not without fear in itself.

I am mostly thinking about all those things I have not been doing for the last 6+ months, that I will be able to contemplate doing again... sleeping, sewing, blogging, gardening, active lifestyle...

Yeah. I'm feeling the fear. I will do it anyway.

Tuesday 16 April 2013

Perception Shift

Wednesdays I take my two boys to the Waitakere Home Educators group for an hours PE followed by social swimming. The PE session is facilitated by the trained instructors on site, and is generally conducted in the gymnasium sports centre. The session provides opportunities for our homeschooled children to experience large group physical activities, such as basketball, hockey, soccer, and volleyball, as well as sports that may require more specialised facilities, such as badminton, and gymnastics. If you are thinking "sounds like high-school PE, then you have a pretty clear idea of what happens in the one hour.

The group usually splits into appropriate groupings dependant on number of children present, and their age / ability. Today that meant two groups, appr single digit age and double digit age. My boys aged 7 and 9, were in the singles.

I watched with interest as the instructor placed five hoops upon the ground, one in the centre of the large rectangle de marked by the other four hoops in each corner. The single digit aged children were divided into 4 teams, each allocated one of the corner hoops as their territory. Nine balls were placed in the centre hoop. The instructor then gave the following instructions.

Each team could send out only one runner to collect a ball from the centre.
Once all the balls were gone from the centre, as many children could retrieve balls from other hoops as they wanted, until the instructor called the time.

My first thought was... Silly woman did not point out the objective of the game was to atain as many balls as possible in your team hoop. My brain also immediately started to calculate the optimal strategies, how many retriever to send from each team, how many to defend etc.

I watched with delight and mirth as the balls were gathered from the centre and experienced a competitive, ferocious ( and thankfully purely internal) YES!! When my lads' team got the last ball from the centre hoop, giving them an advantage... Then was amazed at how ALL the children from ALL the teams started to run and gather balls from the other teams' hoop.

I experienced a second moment of YES!!! When one of the children in my lads' team started to stay by the team hoop.... Something none of the other teams were doing yet. Tactical advantage, protecting the acquired resources Woot!

I was stunned, STUNNED, when the tactical genius, threw a ball to a member from an opposing team, so they would not have to bend down to get it! Some of the other teams were doing the same. Blimey! I thought to myself, these kids have not got a CLUE! The instructor should have told them they needed to get the most for their team. I watched to the end, and enjoyed the fact that even though they might not be getting the point, and playing the game wrong, they sure were enjoying themselves, running around, throwing the ball to the opposition, and interacting with each other.

Finally the whistle blew indicating an end. The instructor had a quick look around, and all the teams had two balls, and one team had a member in transit with the last ball. This team was declared the winner. ALL the children looked confused... Then it hit me.

They were working together, sharing resources, ensuring everyone had enough. They weren't playing it wrong at all.

They were playing it RIGHT.

I was wrong.

Me! With all my liberal socialist style thinkings, i was still expecting a pure capitalist style game. One team to come out tops, with as much acquisitions as possible, others with as few as possible.

These wonderful bright children understood something that is integral to human survival, something that is ingrained in our genetic coding.
That in order for us all to be happy, and survive, we share.
When we share, and enjoy the process, we life a fuller happier life.

This was abundantly clear in the joy on the faces of those children as they ran around gathering.

Monday 8 April 2013

April 8th

Yesterday was a marvellous day. The boys and I went on the rain forest express, which follows along one of the Auckland water supply pipelines. the railway track was built for the maintenance crew to be able to access the pipe, and travels through a small portion of Auckland's history, as the small train traverses through tunnels and over bridges and viaducts named for the pioneers, and employment policies of the time. At the time of rail and dam construction, most of the native flora was removed, however in the century that has passed, much of the rain forest has regenerated, hence the name "Rainforest Express". we paused frequently for stunning views of the manukau harbour, distant Glenbrook, the lower nihotupu dam and large little muddy creek. surrounded by breathtaking greenery, stopping in the tunnels for glimpses of cave weta, and glow worms.




Walking up to the Upper Nihotupu damn, and taking in the vista on a sunny day with blue skies accented with the occasional white cloud, and for some dramatic contrast, a heavy gray cloud off to the side. It is times like this that I truly appreciate the beauty of this corner of the world I call home. It is good to be alive.

The evening rounded off a perfect day. The boys had keas and scouts, allowing me a rare opportunity to speak with other adults, without the children or a fistful of cards. As much as I love Bridge, the rarity of such opportunities make them precious indeed. Coupled with the opportunity to wonder around Motu Moana, the scout camp grounds on the edge of the manukau harbour... again, such a stunning piece of the world. life is bliss, if you allow yourself to remain open to the moments that present themselves.

This morning when I woke, I logged onto Face book, as a matter of course. The first thing I saw, as usual, were the posts of family and friend on the other side of the world, as they wrap up their day. My feed displayed a beautiful photo of white helium filled balloons floating up into a clear blue sky with barren trees showing the early signs of spring buds in the back drop. My cousin had posted this photo. she had gone to her brothers' home and family, along with her other sister, and their families. They gathered to remember a strong, loving little boy who was born a year ago. despite his strength, and spirit, he was not able to overcome the dreadful genetic disease, that this time last year, none of us knew we carried within our gene pool. Three months later we knew quite a bit about it. By this time it was too late for this precious bundle. A few months after that he passed away in the presence of the family and close friends that loved him and his family so very much.

Make the most of the days you have, with those you love. You never know when you are they will pass.
We live in a beautiful and at times terrifying world.
Living in fear is such a waste of energy.
Life is for living.
Live it.

Learn, Live, Love, Laugh, but most of all... LIVE

Wednesday 13 February 2013

Valentine's Day

Valentines Day is something that produces very mixed feelings in me. I love the idea of Valentines day, as a day to particularly express your love for an individual. It does sadden me that for some, this is the ONLY day they think to spend a little extra time or effort in letting their loved one know how much they mean to them.

I have been lucky enough to grow up in New Zealand, where Valentines day is known, and some effort is made by the romantics to honour the date. I was rather stunned to experience my first Valentines day with school aged children in Canada, where, as in the USA, every child under a certain age will purchase a set of cards, to give one to every other child in their class. Once over a certain age, that expectation is gone, and judging by the stories I have read, this leads to a great deal of angst  on a variety of levels surrounding expectations of the day.

It occurs to me that I have been very lucky indeed on valentines days from when I was 13 years of age.

There was a boy in my 3rd form class who I rather liked, and to whom I sent in the beginning of the 4th form ( in New Zealand our school year starts in late January) an anonymous valentines card (not that anonymous apparently, his mother quickly worked out who it was from).

When he arrived home from school, she asked "Did you give her your valentines?". He replied no, and explained that he lost his nerve, because I had not given him one... "She did!" she exclaimed producing the card that had arrived in the post.

He quickly got on his bike... in not at all nice weather... and cycled the considerable distance of 5.5km from his home to mine... beating me home, despite the fact that I was on the school bus, and my stop was the second on the route. I can not begin to imagine how furiously he must have peddled that bike.

I treasured that Valentine Card for many years, I still recall the text on the cover "Without You Valentine" and inside "I'm a raven maniac"with a cartoon style drawing of a raven flapping above a tree. We exchanged valentines in the 5th and 6th form years too. I suppose you could say we were high school sweethearts, although we never really formalised our relationship as a couple or boyfriend / girlfriend. Somehow there hadn't really been a need to, we knew how we felt about each other (and I suspect more people than I would care to know about probably did too)

In my 7th form year, Valentines day fell very shortly after the death of a dear family friend's death. I was still reeling from the news of her sudden death, and some of the implications. On valentines day, I arrived at school, and girls who barely talked to me all the previous years came up to me gushing "who is he?"; "Oh my Gosh you are SOoooOo lucky" and variations on that theme. My dazed and confused looks silenced most of them, and I got several knowing smirks, and breezy "oh never mind". Sometime after lunch, while I was in my woodwork class... the only female... a courier arrived, carrying a bouquet of red carnations and baby breath. Attached, a card with a poem, and congratulations from the radio station that had funded the bouquet.

That is when I learnt that the young gentleman I was dating at the time, had rung a local radio station with a love poem he had written, which was one of the winning entries, resulting in the flowers for me. For the next several weeks he was known at his high school as "Brother Love" after the WWF character of the same name. 

The next notable Valentines day occurred during the inaugural Christchurch Festival of Romance, started by then Mayor Vicki Buck in 1992. It actually started a week earlier, as the festival ran for a week, finishing on Valentines day. There was a free open air R&B concert at the Christchurch Arts Centre, and a group of us were planning to go along. My mother dropped my sister and I off early, on her way to a meeting. Not long after, a handsome, charming gentleman, whom I had met 6 weeks prior at a New Years Party arrived. Oh he was fine looking, and I wished desperately he might find me interesting. After approximately half an hour of conversation with him, my sister interjected (Bless her) with an encouraging "Oh for gods sake you two, it's OBVIOUS you like each other, just put your arms around each other and get on with it, It's making me sick". Later that same day he kissed me. In a way that I never had been kissed before or since. It was a damned fine first kiss. It was everything I had ever wanted a kiss to be. When I first saw him at the New Year's Eve party, I was instantly hooked. With that kiss, he had me for life.

A week later, we had our first official date... on valentines day... no pressure. We started off at a dessert restaurant, Strawberry Fare, where as poor students we shared a dessert. After dessert we wandered over to a presentation of A Midsummer's Night Dream by "Shakespeare in the Park" at Mona Vale.

The next valentines day I was in Canada, doing the long distance relationship thing., by the following valentines day, we'd broken up, because long distance is HARD.

This year, will be the 16th Valentines day we will spend as husband and wife.... the 21st anniversary of our official first date. Yes, he really did have me for life with that kiss.

Monday 21 January 2013

Time Heals All

Time Heals All Wounds.... How many times have we heard that, in story, in friendly advice from peers, parents, professionals... particularly when the wound inflicted is emotional?

To an extent this is true. The pain recedes over years, you accept things, you grow, you perceive things from more objective points of view the more years pass. There comes a time when you think it's all behind you, and that your life is good. Eventually you can get to a point where you see that it had positive results, that it was even a good thing to have happened, knowing that had it not, you would not be where you are now.

Then suddenly out of the blue, completely unexpected, you learn something new, and it changes everything you thought you knew and had accepted. You realise that the wound had indeed healed over, but there had been a shard of a splinter under the healed skin, and it had festered all these years. Suddenly the wound is lanced, and the shard removed.

Not even being aware that this shard had been there, you suddenly notice that you feel better, lighter, a constant niggling pain, that had become so low grade and constant over the years, that you had ceased to be aware of it, is gone.

That this shard was removed on New Year's Eve is wondrous. I think the wound needs a little more lancing, I think there was a little gangrenous pus in there around the shard of the splinter. I am optimistic as to what this means for my self-perception, and most particularly my sense of self worth.

I am most thankful that the person who plunged the wooden stake in my heart all those years ago, which left the splinter behind, was the one to remove the splinter. 23 years is too long to have it embedded there.

I am feeling optimistic for the year 2013.