Texts from last night

...and the rest of yesterday, which was our 20th anniversary.

7:43 a.m. Dropped off the camper and now questing for pancakes with her hubby of TWENTY years
MJ got to NBTSC with her Oregon roomie, Sean, but Chloe still had to do the dawn train run. Then Frank and I went for breakfast at IHOP, using our Seahawks ticket stubs to get free short stacks.

10:54 a.m. Jamming at the EMP
Despite being locals who have a lot of out-of-town visitors, Frank and I had never been to the Experience Music Project. It was very cool, especially the guitar gallery, which is worth the price of admission all by itself. They have a lab where you can play instruments and sing; we spent a fair amount of time in there.

12:39 p.m. Seriously tempted by Firefly action figures and an Alien lunchbox at the Sci-Fi Museum store.
Admission to EMP also gets you into the adjacent Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame. It was so fun! It was also entertaining to see how much of their collection is on loan from Paul Allen. The dude knows how to spend his money! No Firefly, Galactica, or Back to the Future materials on display, which struck us as odd. But they did have Firefly gear at the store. I resisted. Barely.

1:22 p.m. Checked into our hotel room! View of Sound, islands, ferries, Pike Place Market. Awesome sauce!
Part 1 of Frank's surprise. I used hotel points to get us a room at the Red Lion downtown. We were on the top (20th) floor with a spectacular view of a spectacular day on Puget Sound. Sailboats, parasailers, shipping traffic, and ferries on the water. Planes and helicopters of all shapes and sizes in the air. Busy tourists down on the street. Loved it!

1:51 p.m. Hey, Frank brought the wine!
Frank surprised me with a nice bottle of Merlot (my favorite). We ordered up a room-service snack and spent a blissful couple of hours eating, sipping wine, and watching the world go by.

7:28 p.m. Napped to recover from an early wakeup and a bottle of red. Now at Ruth's Chris for free dinner.
Part 2 of Frank's surprise: I used credit-card points to get gift certificates to Ruth's Chris Steak House, far and away the best place to get a really good steak but with prices that are usually out of our reach. Not last night! Although we did go over and a bit, so it wasn't purely free: we had to supplement the tip with $3 cash...

We had crab cocktail in remoulade sauce, steak, lobster, beautifully prepared asparagus and broccoli, and bread pudding dessert. Everything was SO yummy.

We realized after dinner that we were sipping our complementary anniversary champagne at about the exact moment of our anniversary. Nice!

9:49 p.m. Watching the lights and the nightlife (yes, Seattle has some). This day has been everything I hoped for.
After a lovely post-prandial stroll through the bustling city streets, we settled back in front of the window. It was a wonderful day, and a wonderful way to commemorate twenty years with my wonderful man.

Here's to the next 20!

Keeping it simple

The only experts that truly exist on Unschooling
are our children. They do it perfectly.
~ Heather Burditt

I love this. I wish I'd taken it to heart early in our unschooling, not to disregard all the great advice I received from other unschooling parents but to help quiet the doubts that came up.

Back to school... NOT

The "school year" is starting all across the country. I have grown to resent that term a bit: why should schools get to decide what constitutes a year?! But we are not immune. Washington requires homeschoolers to file a Declaration of Intent to Homeschool at the start of each school year. And I needed to know the first day of school so I would know when Emma would be rejoining us. And of course we enjoy some of the back-to-school sales (10-cent notebooks!!!). But that's about as much attention as we pay to it.

Instead of picking up schedules, finding lockers, and settling into somebody else's agenda, my kids will be off having an experience something like this. That's Peggy Pirro's description of the East Tennessee Unschooled Summer Camp, which took place last month. Not Back to School Camp (NBTSC), the camp MJ and Chloe are headed to on Tuesday, is very similar. These camps really are the happiest place on earth.

My favorite excerpt from Peggy's post:
I will say with complete confidence that not one of the parents at that camp wishes our kids were on another planet. Not one. Is it because our teens are exceptional? Well, sure they're exceptional. They're unschooled. Which means all of the schooly stuff that comes between kids and their parents, between kids and their passions, all that stuff that gets in the way of kids figuring out how to relate honestly with one another, how to respect themselves and others, and how to respond to the needs of their bodies and their minds and their imaginations, all of that stuff that gets mediated by school and by the institutionalized thinking that supports the schooling paradigm, is absent. It isn't even a part of the atmosphere.

My love affair with unschooling is well known to my regular readers, but there is something about the start of the school year that brings it all to the forefront. I am SO HAPPY that my kids aren't caught up in the school machine. I am SO HAPPY that, as much or little as they are aware of the school year, they start it off by going to a place that gives them so much joy, that inspires them, and that provides them with an environment where they can make real connections with people who put their passions first and who treat MJ's and Chloe's dreams as achievable goals.

iUnschooling tools

Not that kind of tool

Chloe hasn't really cared about having a cell phone. For the last couple of years, this was fine with me. MJ has a cell phone, and Chloe has been reachable because she is so often with MJ. But that has changed: MJ and her cell phone are down in Oregon. So, I laid down the law: Chloe, says I, I am getting you a cell phone. She resisted at first (really), but the idea began to grow on her, and off we went to shop for a phone.

After looking at the available options, the plan requirements, and so forth, she decided to chip in some of her own money and get an iPhone. She has played with friends' iPhones in the past and really enjoys them. So, that's what we've done. She's paying the extra phone cost and the $15/month data plan. I'm paying for the extra line and the family unlimited-texting plan.

So, Chloe has a new iPhone. She's been exploring available apps, building her contact list, playing games, and just generally having a blast with it. And I've been thinking about all this in an unschooling context.

First off, why didn't she want a cell phone sooner? Unschooling was a factor. Chloe and her friends have Internet access all day long. They don't need phones to communicate. And if they do, they have 24-hour access to their parents' phones.

So, why does she need one now? Well, because I said so, but also because of unschooling. She's free, so she travels. She's independent, so she travels alone. And she's building her own life, even at 16, so the time has come for her to have this tool that so many of us who have our own lives consider essential.

In the months ahead, Chloe will use this phone to let us know she has arrived in Oregon for NBTSC, made the train to come home from NBTSC, and, later, arrived in Texas* where she's starting a new job as a nanny. Then she will use it to find her way around Dallas, to discover places to go with her young charges and shop for the things she needs while she's away. She will call us with all the news, text us all the funny little comments she usually gets to share in person, and find and play games a couple of little ones enjoy.

And she will continue her unschooling. Someone asked on Facebook the other day about essential purchases for unschooling. I replied, "A wireless Internet connection." Perhaps I should have said, "A portable wireless Internet connection." It certainly seems to be an essential purchase for us now.

-------------------
* The family Chloe visited in Victoria has their primary residence in Dallas

The best sort of report card

This morning, I received the following note from the mom of the family Chloe is visiting (and possibly becoming au pair for).

Hi, Ronnie;

Before Chloe came, I tried very hard to hold back my desire to communicate directly with you. I thought you were the adult and she was the kid. But she proved me wrong. She handled everything really well, better than most adults, IMO.

We were very impressed by her. She shows maturity unusual for her age, yet her sweetness, happiness and "purity" (if you know what I mean) are so delightful and contagious.

O. [4yo son] loves her and already invites her to [stay]. He couldn't get enough of her. It is so interesting to watch him to wait patiently and impatiently outside Chloe's room while she was resting.

M. [1yo daughter] loves her and sneaked to her bed. It is so cute to watch her to be in the same bed with Chloe!

We love her. She communicates very well. She is very patient and sweet with kids. She pays attention to details and she is very proactive. When we talked "business", she is professional!

I have never met a teenager as mature, original, happy, thoughtful, confident and sweet as her. You have raised a wonderful person. I am sure we can learn a lot from her as well.

We are very happy to have her.

The Doings Report

Ah, Sunday. We are basking (suffering) in a bit of a heat wave. It hit 90 today and is forecast to be "much warmer" tomorrow. How will we ever survive????

Perhaps by imagining what it would be like tomorrow if we were in the south or southwest. :-)

Chloe is visiting friends in Victoria, BC, for a few days. They have two kids, a girl not quite 2 and a boy not quite 5. Her visit is sort of a job interview, or maybe a mutual interview. If all parties are amenable, she will be their au pair for an undetermined while. Chloe wrote her own (very business-like) emails, made her own arrangements, rode the ferry and went through customs alone, et cetera. (Does anybody know where Chloe learned to write with a formal tone? Sometimes—oftentimes—unschooling amazes even me.)

If all parties are amenable, Frank and I will have an empty nest for a while. Jeezum Pete.

My sister is in town. We had a family gathering today, and I got to visit a bit with her and her family. Loved it!

We are also enjoying a visit from MJ, who came up for the aforementioned gathering and for an orthodontic appointment. She likes it here well enough, but she is glowingly happy in her new digs/life and will return there in the next couple of days.

Frank continues prepping two sides of our house for exterior paint. We settled on two sides as an achievable/adequate goal for this summer. We'll do the other two sides next summer. He has scraped and pressure washed and is now sanding. Then primer, then paint. Colors are either decided (if everyone goes along with my green-with-blue-trim preference) or under negotiation. You be the judge.

I continue working. It seems I will finish one contract on Aug. 31 and start the next on Sept. 1. Continuity is a good thing, but I am lately engaged in detailed fantasies of extended roadtrips. Perhaps something can be arranged, since I work from home mostly anyway. It's the "mostly" that's a stumbling block: "mostly" is not the same as "always."

The girls head to camp next week Tuesday with a hundred or so of their closest friends. Camp has been restructured from two one-week sessions to one two-week session, so they won't be home (Chloe to here and MJ to Salem) until after Labor Day. Judging by chatter here and on Facebook, they and the aforementioned friends are all extremely excited. Extremely. Excited. NBTSC is evidently heaven on earth, more fun than anything else (except perhaps a good year at LIFE is Good), but we parents can only imagine since we are not invited. *sigh*

After that, Chloe comes home or heads to Victoria, depending, and MJ heads to Chautauqua.

It's really a shame how isolated and overprotected unschoolers are. Poor, deprived children.

Also next Tuesday (a week from Tuesday) marks the 20th anniversary of my wedding to Frank. Yes, 20 years. Wowza. I have Big Plans for the day, but Frank has not been apprised of these, so I'm not telling. Yet.

Frank and I attended our first Seahawks game yesterday, a preseason battle with the Tennessee Titans. The game was fine, fun, blah blah blah, but the game viewing experience was, in a word, HOT. Our seats are on the sunny side of the stadium, which is a good thing come November but which makes for a bakefest on a summer evening. We sweated it out with about 25,000 fellow fans, watched the Hawks win, and left disgruntled because the Hawks took a knee instead of going for an easy field goal that would have netted each of us a short stack of pancakes at IHOP. Very bad coaching decision that, but I bet IHOP didn't suffer much since by game's end we were all craving pancakes.

Our next game is next Saturday evening. Frank and I are thinking of staying away until about 7:30, when the shade hits our seats.

For the sake of frugality/greed for other things, I'm going to put all of our regular season tickets up for sale. Whichever games don't sell, we'll attend. If any of you have a game you'd particularly like to go to, let me know; friends and family get good prices and first dibs.

I'm off now for a sunset walk. It is *beautiful* out there now, rosy and warm and a reminder of why we put up with the gray skies all winter. Summer in the northwest is how summer was meant to be.

What I have to work on

Evidently the universe thinks I need more patience. Or evidently I do. Backing up my own feeling that I didn't exercise enough patience in recent comment discussions on my blog, I got two messages today:

This blog post: I've Walked Many Miles in Your Shoes

and this quote:

The job of the spiritual friend is to insult you. . . . If you really want liberation and you really want freedom, you need people around who are going to be provoking you to show you where it is that you still have work to do.
~ Pema Chödrön
My thanks to Jeff for the post and to Laura for bringing the quote to my attention. Oh, and thanks to the spiritual friends who brought me the message, even if it wasn't quite the message they intended for me to receive.

Chloe's school solution

"I have an idea of what learning could be like because I like to learn. I know how much fun it can be. An educational discussion is my idea of a good time. So, the fact that I don't enjoy school is an indicator of something."

Not compulsory
Smaller class sizes
More respect! "Teachers treat kids like there's something wrong with them."
Conversation-based learning
Lots and lots of resources
Teachers as resources - experts in their field rather than professional teachers
Classes would provide a starting point to explore a particular subject
No required courses - "If you say a class is required, you are dismissing somebody else's opinion about what's important or interesting... You're saying that one field is more valid than another one."
Kids sign up for classes they are interested in
Suited to every learning style - accommodate students

Background: Chloe was in school K through half of 3rd, spent a term at Summerhill (a democratic/free school in England), and attended high school last year for one 6-week grading period. All the rest of the time, she's been unschooled.

Pondering paths

When I was 19, I applied for two jobs: one in childcare and one in publishing. I got the publishing job, and that set me on the path not only to my current career as a tech writer but also to Frank, MJ, Chloe, unschooling, and everything else. So, no regrets whatsoever.

But I do sometimes wonder about that other path...

Do you think if I had spent the last 20 years with little kids I would now be craving time with words?

Probably...

Valued hopes

From Lynelle's comment on my previous post: "i kind of believe that as a parent, it's actually part of my job to try to instill certain values in my kids. i try to do that through example, suggestions, sharing experiences, asking my kids questions about their thoughts and feelings and reasons, and talks."

She goes on to detail some of the values she hopes her kids will share.

I've been thinking about this a lot these past few days. What are my values? Are there things that I am SO passionate about that seeing their opposites in my kids would really bother me? For half a minute, as I ran through the list of things people often freak out about, I thought Maybe I'm exempt. I mean, religion is the biggie, and I'm not religious, so...

But there are things I feel religious about. Oh, yeah. Unschooling. Peaceful parenting. Being kind. Making fun a priority. Living a wide-sky life. Certain political and social viewpoints that I hold.

Do I hope for my kids to share those values, and have I tried to instill those values in my kids? Yes, and yes. And do I, intentionally or otherwise, make clear to my kids when they are choosing something that is contrary to those values? Yep.

I try. I hope for. I communicate.

But that's where it stops.

Let's say MJ interacts with somebody else in a way that I characterize as unkind. I might talk to her about the other person's viewpoint, about things I think she could do to make amends, about strategies for interactions with this person in the future that might have a better outcome. All of this is parenting, and it can be peaceful and kind and free from shaming or punishment. (It can also be brief. A ten-second conversation is going to tell me if she is open to discussing this with me. And if she is, a two-minute conversation might be long enough to cover all of the above.)

But if MJ reviews her own actions and is fine with them, or if she does not want to discuss it... At that point, I am left with the relationship that I have with MJ, and the relationship that I have with the person I think she hurt. I can separate those from each other. My relationship with MJ from that point is just as it usually is: accepting, respectful, taken for what is now rather than what is past (and the problematic interaction is definitely past). My relationship with the other person is whatever s/he and I need it to be, and I can respond as a sympathetic friend or sympathetic stranger or whatever is appropriate.

Beyond that, I'm helpless. MJ's relationship with this other person is none of my business. MJ's assessment of her own actions is none of my business, even and perhaps especially when I disagree with her assessment.

One more example: Let's say Chloe becomes a mother and decides that Cry It Out is what works for her family. Phew. Oh boy. First, that is really hard to imagine. Chloe ignoring a needy baby? Not gonna happen. Second, that is really hard to imagine. My poor grandbaby!

Would Chloe hear from me? Oh, yeah. I'd send her the research on the harm that CIO does, and I'd encourage her to see things from the baby's point of view. I'd volunteer to stay at her house and take care of the baby during the night. I'd probably beg.

But if none of that worked... At that point, I'm left with my relationship with Chloe and, separately, my relationship with the baby. I'm still going to want a relationship with Chloe even if she is a sadly misguided mother. And I'm going to believe that the baby needs his grandma desperately, so I'm not going to do anything to jeopardize my contact with him. And of course I'm going to be the most loving, accepting, snuggle-him-up grandma I can be.

Beyond that, I am helpless. It's none of my business.

It is easy to be respectful of our kids when we approve of what they are doing. I think being respectful when we don't really approve is where the "radical" in "radical unschooling" comes in.

The last bastion

After reading my previous post, Jeff Sabo said, "Values are the last bastion of controlling parenting."

Whoa! What a revelation! I, once the quintessential control freak, have made it past the last bastion. When did this happen? And more importantly, did it happen soon enough? With one kid out the door and the other busy making plans, I am very much aware that the time available for getting there goes by very quickly. It can so easily run out while you're still saying "someday."

Do any of these sound familiar?

• "We're unschooling except for math."
• "We're unschooling academics only."
• "We're radical unschoolers except we limit _________."
• "We're radical unschoolers, but we would never let our
  kids __________."

If so, you're not there yet. Tick tock, tick tock. This is your only chance to try another way. What are you waiting for?

Values

I started to write this post as if it's definitively about unschooling, but "unschooling" means different things to different people. Even "radical unschooling"—which refers to the freedom-of-choice parenting that goes along with unschooling for many of us—means different things to different people. I've gotten into trouble (conflicts) in the past when I insisted on a rigid definition of either term. While I continue to be puzzled about why someone would insist on claiming a label that does not really apply to them, I can occasionally, momentarily, acknowledge that some people are simply operating under different definitions than I am.

So let's leave labels out of it and talk instead about values.

We all have 'em. Some values we hold passionately and can defend at great length. Others we inherited from our society or from our parents and live by without giving them much thought. Some of my personal values are represented by some of the labels I accept for myself (liberal, atheist, omnivore, wife, mom, employee—just to name a few), and some of them, as noted above, resist accurate labeling.

One of the biggies in that last category is this:

I value my children's freedom to determine their own values.

I have been called on the carpet over the conspicuous consumption illustrated by my I'm that mom post. In the comments on my follow-up to that post, I responded some to the specifics of that example. I could respond more (and maybe I'm about to) about the factors that led us to decide that trip was okay—that it was MJ's big move-out trip and she was very excited, that the second trip to Oregon wasn't set in stone, that the additional consumption I might really have added to our life was Chloe's return trip home on a train that would have made the trip anyway—and I could talk about what solutions I think might really have a chance of stopping our species' headlong race to self-destruction.

But the thing is, even if I believed we should all reduce our consumption (and I do, even as I doubt it will do much good), and even if the trip decision were exactly as cut-and-dried as I implied in my "I'm that mom" post, I would have made the same decision.

MJ and Chloe know the environmental concerns. They know the time-and-money concerns. And they still enthusiastically chose as they did. And knowing all that, if I had said, "No, we're not doing this because it's not the most environmentally conscious choice," I would be IMPOSING my values on them. If I am the ultimate arbiter of what is an acceptable level of consumption, then in my opinion it's not unschooling and it is a complete violation of one of my most deeply held values.

Living by this value means that I, an omnivore, have had a vegetarian daughter. It means that I, an unschooler, have had a daughter in school—twice! It means that I, an atheist, have a Wiccan daughter. It means that my daughters make purchases that I wish they wouldn't, get piercings (and eventually tattoos) that I wish they wouldn't, spend their time engaged in a few activities that I wish they wouldn't, go off for weeks or months at a time when I wish they'd stay home, move out earlier than I wish they would, and just generally make life choices that I would not necessarily be making for them if I were in charge.

This is something that ALL parents face. Do you really think my mom expected to raise a tattooed atheist unschooler?! Hardly! (Although I think she's mostly okay with it.)

The difference is that I have simply and deliberately chosen to allow my values and my kids' values to diverge before they are adults. Part of my value system is a belief that one doesn't have to be 18 or older to recognize one's own values. And part of what went into my value system is the knowledge that kids who have values imposed on them often end up going in the exact opposite direction. By valuing the things I value and letting them make their own value judgments, even as children and especially as teens, I believe I have provided them with the information that I used to come around to my values without creating an adversarial or guilt-laden environment that might have driven them away from them. For me, that trumps everything else.

a bit more

I really am *that* mom (who pisses people off)

A friend of a friend had this to say about my "I am that mom" post.

I find it slightly offensive to suggest that those of us who do not have the time or money to do such things are somehow worse parents than those who do.

Also, I think that children should get everything they *need*, but wants and needs are not the same thing. I think my kids wants are important, to an extent....but nobody gets *everything* they want. I work pretty hard to make sure they have everything they need....I'm not going to kill myself to give them everything they want. What I want is important, too.

To which my friend replied:

mmmm...read more of the blogs. there's waaaaay more to it. I dont personally think ronnie's post is insulting in the way you suggest. Its point is to TRY to do the most possible...
I also disagree the wants and needs aren't necessarily the same thing. I believe it's a matter of priorities: every want is a need to some degree. But I think you know that about me already. ;)

To which her friend replied:

I don't think it's necessary to try to do the MOST possible. I think society needs to learn to be content with ENOUGH. Our kids have never been without food or shelter or access to medicine, and neither have I. We're already more privileged... than much of the world's population. Why do Westerners need sooo much in order to be happy? And even though we have sooo much, so many of us are unhappy, anyway.

The blog post in question....obviously the woman who wrote it does not mind dropping everything to drive an unnecessary 500 miles. I would mind. I like simplicity and I like consolidating errands and trips as much as possible. If the same exact trip was coming up in two weeks, no way would I make the trip twice just to instantly gratify my kids. It's not because I don't care about what they want, but I care about what I want, too. If they get to take a trip, and I get to drive only once, then we all get what we want. The woman who wrote the blog was happy and able to indulge her kids, so she also got what she wanted.

I personally feel that we do our kids a disservice if we teach them that their wants are the only ones that matter. I remember you posting a couple of weeks ago about how strongly you feel about hypocrisy. I feel the same sort of disdain for self-serving behavior.

To which I replied:

‎"does not mind dropping everything to drive an unnecessary 500 miles"

Actually, it's that I see it completely differently. :-) What I'm doing is *picking up* everything important--my connection to my kids, the extremely fun times we have hanging out with our friends, an attitude that life is full of possibilities and solutions and YES. That makes the 500 miles not only necessary but cheap at twice the price!

"I personally feel that we do our kids a disservice if we teach them that their wants are the only ones that matter."

This is a common criticism of unschooling. All I can tell you is that, in our life and in our family, my wants count for a LOT. I am spoiled rotten. I know it's hard to imagine, but all four of us (mom, dad, two teenaged girls) get MOST of what we want (and I say that after coming off almost a year of unemployment - it's about an attitude of abundance rather than an unlimited supply of money). This makes for a happy family that I could not have imagined in our pre-unschooling days.

But of course our kids suffer disappointments. Life serves up plenty of those without my ever having to do the dishing.

Do you have a reply?

Updated 7/29: I had to add the amazing art Linda found for me. Thanks, Linda! Also, the conversation continues in the comments.

Keep your eye on the swimmers

When the girls were really little (4 and 3, probably), we spent an evening at a motel out in the desert of California. The girls wanted to swim and I didn't, so I went with them down to the pool and walked around the edges of the pool, chatting with them as they paddled about. They were both swimming by then, thanks to our stint in Florida, so I was completely comfortable with this level of supervision, even when they headed into the deep end. The hotel manager was not. She came blasting out of the office, shouting at me.

It's not a pleasant memory. But what bothers me most is that, because of her shouting, I took my eyes and attention off the girls. It was only for a handful of seconds, but I remember the sinking feeling I got in my stomach as I realized what I'd done, and I remember my relief upon seeing that both girls had, while I wasn't looking, paddled themselves over to the wall. They were hanging on, watching wide-eyed as I dealt with this confrontation. I engaged in a couple of (useless) attempts to point out that the girls could swim, that I was barely two feet away from them, that I would OF COURSE jump in fully clothed if either had the slightest difficulty. She wouldn't listen, having already decided I was untrustworthy, so the girls moved back to the shallow end for a few minutes before we decided we were really done with that pool (and that hotel) anyway.

The lesson I took away from that day is one that still serves me well now. The only time my parenting is insufficient is when I take my attention off the swimmers, my daughters. It is their needs and wants and abilities that matter, not the ignorant observations, however well intentioned, of the people around us.

Formative years

There is a lot of chatter in the parenting world about kids' formative years. This term can mean anything from infancy to adolescence, but the implication is always the same: that there is a time period during which kids are formed into the people they will be (presumably forever).

I certainly don't dispute the importance of treating children well and raising them in a loving environment. But I really want to challenge this idea that people are ever finished "forming." Looking back over my life so far, I see a lot of formative years, and there are a few in my adult life that were at least as formative as the highest impact years of my youth. (2009 was a case in point! Whew! What a year!)

The accompanying ideas—that kids are merely "forming into" adults, and that they are especially "formable" during certain years—are equally bad. They are booby traps for the unwary, and they can lead us to some thoughts about our kids that are really pretty nasty.

How about this one: "Oh, he'll grow out of it." This usually refers, interestingly enough, to a child's deepest emotional needs or his strongest signals that something needs to change. It's something we say or think (or maybe just hope) when our child's wants or behaviors are inconvenient to us. When accompanied by loving patience and responsiveness to our child's needs, this thought is not the end of the world. But even at its least dismissive, it still carries with it an expectation of—even an insistence on—change. I think it's really hard to hide our expectations from our kids. They always know.

And what happens if he doesn't grow out of it, whatever it is? What do our thwarted expectations lead to? "He's a hopeless case" perhaps, or similar sentiments? Ouch! These are cultural weapons we use to beat up the square pegs among us, the angry ones, the sad ones, the bloody but unbowed ones. They are not like us, therefore they're a lost cause.

I don't believe in half-formed children, and I don't believe in lost causes. There's no such thing. There are only people—learning, thinking, evolving people—for whom every year is a formative year.


We are game-playing, fun-having creatures, we are the otters of the universe.
~ Richard Bach

I'm that mom

Inspired by Flo's delicious post here. It's an impromptu blog carnival! Join in!

I'm that mom who drives 500 miles because her kids want to see their friends, because her kids don't feel like riding the train again, because her kids want to go now instead of in a couple of weeks when the trip could be combined with another trip. I'm that mom who knows it's a frivolous, indulgent, even "stupid" thing to do but does it anyway.

Why not? We can. We have the time, the money, the free lodging when we get there (thanks, friends), and, whether we are aware of it or not, the energy. We as a family end up with more trips together, more good times on the road rocking or talking, more fun. Frank and I end up with more much needed time with our friends, too, and the good feeling that comes from doing the kind thing. And the girls end up with more driving practice, more familiarity with a long stretch of freeway that is likely to be part of their lives forever, and (most important of all) more awareness that they are supported in their lives, even when what they want is frivolous, indulgent, or even "stupid."

It's a good trade.

Update 7/29: Be sure to check out the links in the comments. The response to this has been amazing! My original thought was that we would each pick one little example of how we are that mom or dad, but some people really ran with it and ended up outlining the core tenets of unschooling. And as things wound down, Flo chimed in again with this amazing piece that put the cherry on top of her breakfast ice cream.

Get your art! Mary made us stinkin' badges. Link to this post or one of Flo's.
Moms
Dads

Tiny tidbits: Learn Nothing Day, Part Trois

Tara commented on my previous post that she doesn't participate in Learn Nothing Day because she doesn't like failure. It made me chuckle, and then it got me wondering: Why do I participate? Why do I, in fact, look forward to this day with moderately gleeful anticipation?

Part of the answer probably stems from its being a rare opportunity for my psyche to experience failure without trauma. But more than that, I enjoy the way it attunes my brain to the learning I do just via my regular activities: tiny tidbits of learning that happen so naturally and so without fanfare, most days I am oblivious to them. I think (and the point of Learn Nothing Day is) that these tidbits are unavoidable. They happen to everyone no matter where they are or what they are doing—even kids in school!

What cannot be predicted is what those tidbits will be. Oh, schools try to control this, with their curricula and textbooks and lectures, but they can't really. Even the learners can't control learning. In many respects, our brains are the sponges they are so often compared to, and like real sponges, they will soak up pretty much anything.

In chemistry class, I learned how to disguise my papers so that I could write notes to Linda instead of taking notes on Mr. Smith's lectures. I also learned that this one nerdy kid was a pretty good friend, that I enjoyed balancing chemical equations, that clocks move more slowly in 6th period, and that the chemical name for lead can be remembered by thinking of Pencil boxes.

In the last couple of days, I learned that "stop" is not a (Merriam Webster) dictionary sense of "enough" (perhaps because MW says interjections are "usually lacking grammatical connection"). I learned that some people believe "exaggerate" is an antonym for "control." NOT. I learned that there are two ferries from Anacortes to Sydney, BC, each weekday and that a 16-year-old can walk across for $13. I learned that the yurts at Kayak Point are extremely popular and run $50 per night. I learned that the Centennial Trail runs from Arlington to Snohomish, and that they are planning to extend it farther north. I learned that Microsoft HealthVault is really pretty cool, that you can upload data from your health-related devices (pedometers, blood-pressure and glucose meters, etc.) to the site, and that some pretty prestigious medical facilities are using sites like these for remote patient monitoring.

Today, I learned that Sandra put up a temporary banner on her unschooling page for Learn Nothing Day, that there is a web site where one can set up a custom marquee banner, that I still love Pachelbel's Canon, and that at least one of my friends, Alex, visits Sandra's site often enough to have discovered the new banner. I learned that Tara doesn't like to fail. I learned that Antonio Meucci got robbed.

I also learned that I didn't gain any willpower while I was sleeping, and that I still find cruising Facebook and writing blog posts WAY more fun than working. Shocker. And I learned that Learn Nothing Day provides a fun and unique opportunity for looking at learning.

The quirks of unschooling

WARNING: Do NOT read this or any other blog post if you are participating in Learn Nothing Day. Learning may ensue.

Everything is connected, and everything counts. If I needed proof of these two maxims of unschooling, I found it this morning in this little pile of books that has accumulated on our overflowing bookshelves:

The Book of General Ignorance: Everything You Think You Know Is Wrong by John Lloyd & John Mitchinson - A fascinating little book devoted to correcting some common misconceptions. For example, who invented the telephone? Alexander Bell probably stole Antonio Meucci's models from the lab at Western Union.

Misquoting Jesus by Bart D. Ehrman - An exploration of the evolution of the text of the Bible. For example, it appears that mentions of Jesus getting angry have been softened up or eliminated, such as the evidence that indicates that Mark 1:41 originally said that when the leper approached Jesus to be healed, Jesus became angry.

The Greek Myths: I by Robert Graves

The Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks - A must-have for every home.

Travellers China by George McDonald

Sneaky Uses for Everyday Things by Cy Tymony - Instructions for making clever devices from things like sugar cubes, aluminum foil, and toilet paper rolls.

How are the books in this quirky collection connected? I'm not really sure except that they all found their way into our house, and, judging by their being piled together on the edge of a shelf, they have all been used in the recent past. That's unschooling for you.

Dragonfly's question of the day

When we first started unschooling, I got on unschooling.com just about every day and asked a question. My screen name was dragonfly, so these became "Dragonfly's Questions of the Day." Those questions were about unschooling as I tried to make sense of it. Nowadays, unschooling makes perfect sense and what I'm trying to make sense of is school.

Why don't middle schools have playgrounds?

I walked with my 11yo niece to a neighborhood park the other day. She joined a group of 'tweens in a rousing game of tag. Most of those kids are headed to North Middle next year, yet chose to spent a summer afternoon "doing recess," their favorite part of elementary school.

North Middle does not have a playground.

Why not?

True friends write your blog posts for you

Mary has posted photos of my tattooing and my tattoo here, and I've added a comment to the post about why I chose this tattoo.

Thanks to my amazing coaching team: Chloe, Qacei, Annie, and Mary.

The tattoo artist was Anji at High Priestess.