A good day at Unschool

I've been talking about my parents so much, I figured I should talk about my kids. I've got two boys, JJ who is 7 and Grant who is 4. This year we decided not to put JJ into first grade at the local elementary. We decided that I would "Unschool" him. I get a lot of questions about Unschooling, so in a nutshell, Unschooling is a method of educating children by making them an active participant in learning. There's a lot of information available about Unschooling, but I thought it would be a better illustration to write a blog about what a good Unschooling day would look like for me, JJ and Grant. Steven wanted me to point out that there are also bad days at Unschool--like anything, it has its ups and downs. But we agree that on balance there are a lot more good days than bad.
February 7, 2011, Monday morning before 8:00 a.m.
Steven, my husband is getting ready for work. The boys hear his bumping around and start to stir. JJ jumps out of bed, runs into the living room and begins assembling Legos. Grant is slower, rising and tottering out into the living room to check on what JJ is up to. I wake up and take stock of the day, plotting out in my mind the tasks and plans for the day. JJ comes in and asks if he can use the computer, and I ask him to do typing tutor before he starts. He groans about this and says the game bores him, so we cut a deal for 15 minutes of typing tutor, and he turns on the laptop. Boys are searching JJ's favorite Star Wars sites on Youtube (he's the fastest bookmarker I ever saw) and I, clad in my trusty housecoat, amble in to check it out. A video of a Sumo wrestler pops up and I say, "click that one." We watch a few more Sumo wrestling videos, and JJ and Grant start asking questions about Sumo. I help them find the Wikipedia entry on Sumo wrestling and read a bit about it. Grant suggests we have a few Sumo matches of our own on the living room carpet, I use masking tape to mark out the dohyo. Tired, we stop for breakfast and a discussion about the day's events. We decide to split into two groups, with me doing some personal work (bookkeeping and householding and organizing playdates for the boys' social life) and the boys watching Scooby doo and playing Legos until lunch.
Noon: I stop my bookkeeping and we eat lunch and take a walk to the store. We talk about what we have to buy and how much money we have to spend. We have gelato tokens, so afterwards we stop and get a gelato for a treat. Grant has strawberry and raspberry, JJ was caramel swirl and lemon, and we play CandyLand and ConnectFour. We continue our walk home and pass by the new neighborhood center, and JJ suggests going in. We visit the tea room and chat with the folks there and play with the domino set. Then we discover that they have an unused yoga room we can play in, so we pile in and play chase and wrassle and stage show and baby wolves and bobcats until Steven texts us that he is on his way home.
Evening: By now it is 6:00 so we have dinner, books and bed. The boys are in bed by 8:00 and from 8:00 - 10:00 Steven and I do chores, talk, write and decompress.

Every day is different, driven by a combination of boys' interests, mom's requirements and dad's work schedule. We've all learned a lot today. Did you know that centuries-old tradition dictates that Sumo wrestlers gain weight by skipping breakfast, eating a large lunch and having a nap? Always eat breakfast!
Unschooling means that the day is all about the boys. It requires a huge commitment of time and energy from both Steven and me. All day I have been at work as a mom and a teacher, answering questions thoughtfully, taking every opportunity to expand their knowledge, guide their behavior and supply them with the tools and opportunity to learn. Steven works all day, then works as a dad and a teacher evenings and weekends. This is in addition to all the other work we do. There is very little alone time for us until the end of the day. Steven and I have a date night once a week, but that's very little for a married couple to live on. But we both agree that our children are the most important things in our lives. I do this because I want to teach my children that living life is what life is all about. Completing a grade, achieving a benchmark or doing the same thing that everyone else simply because everybody else does it is not a recipe for a passion filled life. My children are very bright and shiny. Everywhere we go people remark on their excitement and enthusiasm. I believe Unschooling will keep their sparkle alive.

The Parent Swap

As you may recall, Fran has gone to live with the new love of her life, Molly.
In February, Mike was asked to leave Assisted Living. I think the last straw was when Mike came down into the lobby area sans pants. Once again, it was time to move a parent.
When we added on the Frannex, my intention was to only have Fran live in our household. I had concerns about Mike living in the house with the boys.
My father's ideas about raising children are much different than mine. I tend to think of my children as distinct little satellites launched from my planet, acquiring resources, knowledge and skills in close orbit before they slingshot out of my gravity to go explore the universe. I believe Mike felt that his children were a reflection and extension of himself therefore he tried to control his children to ensure a positive reflection of him. We kids needed to be under Mike's control and command at all times, lest we veer from the party line, and knock holes in Mike's stage set of family life. Mike enforced his control in a variety of ways that would be considered "unhealthy" now, and I was worried that he would cause harm to the boys. When Mike was evicted from assisted living, I warily moved him into the Frannex, while we sorted out what to do. My brother and sister-in-law offered to take him on a permanent basis, but I felt that would be an extreme hardship for them since they both work outside the home. Having done the Fran care for a year, I know the amount of time and energy it takes to care for the demented parent. It's not like having a cute toddler that a friend or neighbor will watch while you go to your chiropractor. Mike is a high maintenance person, he needs one on-one-care, all his waking hours. He won't sit by himself and watch t.v., and if he finds himself alone, he will get up and look for his people. So I kept the boys apart from Mike and went out on the Memory Care tour.

Memory Care (heart)

Memory Care is a sweet euphemism for "Locked Ward". Although every effort has been made to make the facility light and cheery, there's no getting around the truth that nobody in your family can take full-time care of you anymore and this is your last stop. There's a certain amount of stage dressing and salesmanship that is necessary to make it palatable to family members. My latest tour include a visit to a large corporate facility with Assisted Living and Memory Care units. I met the perky, sexily dressed salesperson, er, community relations coordinator, and she took me for a tour of the Memory Care wing. As soon Mike and I stepped off the elevator she did a strange sort of shielding maneuver to shepherd us around the corner. Not fast enough apparently, to avoid the catcalls of an elderly gentleman seated directly across from the doors. As our guide tried to attract the attention of the nursing staff, the old guy caught sight of our party. "Shake it!" he leered and me, and I obliged. Just doing my part to improve the daily lives of the residents! Our guide apologized, "I was trying to hurry you past Fred, because sometimes he makes inappropriate remarks." Mike and I joined in on the exercise group, where 70% of the residents are unable to sit up in their wheelchairs, much less rotate their ankles. Mostly they just curl up and doze. Mike was definitely the most alert and agile patient in the room, over and above some of the caregivers, even. He quickly attached himself to a genial old fellow named Nigel, who had a jolly demeanor which made his gibberish quite pleasant to listen to. After the class, we wheeled Nigel down to group singing class. We passed Nigel's room which listed Nigel's achievements in life, including his accolades in the fields of academics and physics. I Googled Nigel later and discovered he had made ground breaking discoveries in aeronautics. Poignant, no?
It was rapidly becoming clear to me, that Mike was not ready for Memory Care, and I was not ready to send him there. It was time to revisit a decision I had made when Mike first became incapacitated. Maybe it could work: Should I move Mike permanently into the Frannex?

Momma

What a day this has been.

This morning I woke up, inspired by how much I was going to get done today! I was going to finish my paper work that is due in 2 days, shovel some compost onto the garden beds, drop off the sewing machine at the repair shop, go to the gym, go visit Fran, pick up the grocery order, and complete several other tasks on my to do list. JJ was dressed and getting ready to go to school with Steven. Grant was having a good sleep in. It all looked promising.

Then Grant comes out from his bedroom and says "I'm a baby kitty." I know this is a bad sign. This is Grant's code for "I'm a helpless baby, and I need your total undivided attentiton."

We will spend the rest of the day negotiating. I'll get the groceries picked up and the sewing machine dropped off. Grant will wet his pants three times (once at the library) and pee in the lid of JJ's Cariboo Island game. Grant will continue his project to unscrew every door lock in the house and lose the parts. Out of the blue, Grant will run up and bite me on the breast, hard enough to bruise. I will be strained to my limits several times. I will not beat him. I will try to stay present.

Steven gets home at 6:45. He's had a lot going on at work. He's stressed. I slink off to the bedroom, justifying my craven retreat with the fact that I cooked him dinner. Within 3 minutes both boys have discovered I am missing and seek me out. Grant has crawled under the bed to avoid being evicted from our bedroom.

Steven says to Grant, "I love you Grant" and he yells "no you don't". He's three and a half.

Some Useful News

Here's something I just found out: If your place of employment carries a benefit called "pre-paid legal" you may be able to sign your parents up for legal benefits. We signed up for it at Steve's work, and I only just discovered the parent add on. You can get a will, power of attorney, advice for free or discounted rates! So check your benefits.

Fran's Makes A Move!

It looks like Fran may have found a new (for the moment) home!

She's living with her BFF, Molly. Molly has been Fran's caregiver for the last year or so, and it became apparent that Fran preferred Molly's company to ours. I think that Fran still felt an underlying responsible towards me. She doesn't really relate to me as her daughter, but I think she knows she's supposed to care for me. She is always asking me, "is there anything I can do? Is everything O.K.?" Being with Molly enables her to forget about her responsibilities. And she's having a blast. Last week, Molly took her out to a restaurant that had karaoke. Fran got up on the stage with Molly, and even though she didn't sing, she stood with the microphone and swayed back and forth. Fran also picked the song to sing. She picked "I will survive." I wonder, is this a random coincidence, or a vestige of Fran's sly humor?

Movie Quotes

Sadly, I have once again learned that life is not like the movies. Always a disapointment, I've found that having children, getting married, are not at all like the movies. Now I'm discovering that the Hollywood cliche of old people with hidden gems (either literal or figurative) is also a lot of hot air. In movies like "Tuesdays with Morrie" or "Harold and Maude" , the old people have great life lessons to share with us. Remember "Fried Green Tomatoes" where the Kathy Bates character meets a quirky, yet charming old woman, the Jessica Tandy character, in a nursing home? The old woman tells a life empowering story that helps the younger woman find a deeper, richer life. Now that I've logged a few hours with the residents of the nursing homes I can tell you with authority that the likelihood of having a resident tell you a life-enriching story are slim. Here is an actual transcript of my conversion with Fran one evening.

Setting: Interior my home, it has been very hot, and I'm trying to get Fran to drink some cold water.

F: I can't very well drink it, it's too big a place. [translation: too big a glass]

J: Hmm.

F: Do you think that would work?

J: Hmm.

F: I'll have to get my pants off. (Fran gets up, wanders towards door, kicks my foot) Oops, did I touch somebody's toe? I didn't mean to. (Hands me the glass) Here's some of this you can drink, if you'd like to.

J: I don't want to drink it.

F: What did you think? About getting this put into your program, it's got too much in it (hears Steven in kitchen) wonder what they're cooking. I'll go see. (gets up, looks at glass) That's an awful lot to drink. (sits down)

J: It's for you.

F: OK, I'll drink it down, but. . . would you like some of it? There's quite a bit of it in it. (puts glass on the floor) I just left it down the stairs. (picks up glass, drinks it) All out. We 'll put in one of your other things, in the kitchen.

J: What do you do in the kitchen?

F: Oh yeah. It's something that you stick up in your room, and everybody finds out. I try not to say things that are too funny, but they do bounce around. [telling me she has trouble finding words]

J: OK.

F: Can I do anything for your city? I'd like to go with you and do something with you. But I realize you have business to attend to and it makes it harder for you.

J: Thanks. What would you do?

F: I do sometimes if there's something new and it makes me makes me stop and think about it. I'm not as cold and hot as I was before. [she's telling me how hard it is to focus on what's happening]

J: Is that good?

F: For what?

J: Is having it cold or hot, good or bad?

F: I don't know what good or bad means. (looking at my laptop) It's probably DELL.

J: Who?

F: I don't know, somebody outside. (hears the neighbor boy skateboarding) They're throwing boards around, I think.

J: Hmm.

F: Did you want to appeal to this thing (holding glass) that this gentleman wants you to buy? [communicating her worry that I not get taken advantage of] And if I have a leaky nose I should have some kind of fluid that goes with it? [hates to have a runny nose, wants the Claritin nasal spray she used to take]

J: Hmm.

F: What are you reading?

End

So there you have it. Nothing exciting to hear. No deep dark (You are Stalin's love child) secrets revealed. No profound utterances of pure knowledge (The meaning of life is. . .) spill from her lips. Fran didn't have much brilliant life insight when she was young and healthy, why would that magically change in old age? I reckon that if Buddha were spending his golden years at the Sunny Meadows Assisted Living Facility, his old age ramblings might contain some bon mots.

Setting: Sunny Meadows Assisted Living Facility this evening.

Buddha, room 209: "Teach this triple truth to all: A generous heart, kind speech, and a life of service and compassion are the things which renew humanity."

Lamira, caregiver, evening shift: "Oh Mr. Buddha, you want to raise your arms? PJs on? Everybody go to bed now! See Mr. Jesus? Already sleeping!"

Buddha: "The whole secret of existence is to have no fear. Never fear what will become of you, depend on no one. Only the moment you reject all help are you freed."

Lamira, fake laughing, "Very funny Mr. Buddha, good night Mr. Buddha!" Turns out light, exits room.