partly re: New member, and a ramble
[email protected]
In a message dated 10/29/02 10:26:40 AM, mom23princess@... writes:
<< I'm new here & was wondering what exactly do "unschoolers" do
in a normal day?Do you ever do workbooks,etc. >>
My kids have all owned workbooks. Some were given to us, some they picked
out at Toys'RUs or a bookstore, some I bought because they had some sort of
puzzle the kids were liking. They're treated like coloring books, maze
books, word-search... they go in the pile of books to pick up and mess with
if you feel like it.
There was one good Animaniacs math book that got a fair amount of use.
My kids have never completel finished a coloring book or a workbook. I would
no more make them work in one than in the other.
<<I was wondering what many of you do in a
normal day to teach your kids.>>
I do little to nothing to teach them, but I am kind of having my radar out
for being there if they're trying to do, learn, or puzzle something out and
they might be stuck or frustrated, and I might boost or nudge.
I can't get into my van. I can get up to the door into a good position. But
someone else has to boost me up far enough for me to get onto the seat. This
is recent and temporary. When I have a walking cast instead of "don't put
weight on this," I'll be able to get in myself. So it's kind of like that.
They can get in position to complete an idea or a project, and if it looks
like they need a word spelled, or a suggestion for which kind of glue to use,
or where to look for something, I'll nudge or boost.
Tomorrow night I have to get into the van again. We're going to see Fiddler
on the Roof. I get to sit in the wheelchair row.
-=- how to make a "schedule" of what to do.Any
help/advice would be appreciahas to be anywhere except Kirby goes to work
from 3:00 to 7:30 or so. Tuesday Kirby has karate: teaches, then has a
class, then two hours of kobudo (weapons) with the adults.
So far the week sounds like Kirby's all organized! But most of the week
Kirby is out and about with older friends, playing board games, playing card
games, playing video games, hanging around IHOP where one of them works.
Wednesday Holly has a fiddle lesson. Keith has "fighter practice" (armored
combat, SCA, or did until lately; They quit when daylight savings time and
coldness arrive). Etc.
Other than those kinds of appointments, we have some checklists and deadline
considerations. It's not a structure that looks like school. It's a
structure that looks like my life has always looked. Too much stuff, too
many commitments, lots of movies and music and jokes and people in and out.
New things come into the house, they're examined, discussed, named, played
with, shown around, and eventually put somewhere. Maybe eaten, if
appropriate. Things to leave the house, we check whether others approve of
it being given away or whatever, we discuss it, it's delivered or mailed or
given to charity or whatever. That's a lot of categorization, verbal and
mental.
The trick-or-treaters have returned. It's 10:16. There were several teens
and two younger girls (10 and 12). When they finished our neighborhood, they
got in two vehicles and drove to the neighborhood of the granny of one of
them, and did some more.
Every year before this I have claimed some candy as a fee for walking around
with a trick-or-treater. THIS year for the first time I shall have to simply
beg politely.
I saved some milk from the dinner Keith brought me, to wash down the candy I
hope I will receive. Keith has gone to bed. I will too, soon, on the couch,
by the fire, under the influence of pain killers and muscle relaxers. I will
sleep the fitful twitchy sleep of the drugged.
One weird effect of the drugs when I was taking them more frequently, the
first two weeks, was interesting. I would kind of talk in my sleep, but not
talk at all. It was moving my hands in my sleep, which I've never done
before. I would be dreaming of doing something, and would move my hands in
the same way sometimes people talk in their sleep. I know, because I would
wake myself up with it. One night I dreamed of sorting warm laundry, to fold
towels. I was pulling on my shirt, and it wasn't lifting up, but I kept
grabbing the cloth and pulling it. I dreamed I was eating, and I touched my
hand to my mouth. I dreamed someone was giving me a taste of something, and
I opened my mouth and lifted my head up, and it woke me up. I have reached
out my arm to touch something.
I asked Holly if I could please have some of her candy. She said, "Sure, but
first we're going to clean up the bathroom some because we made a mess."
The mess, she had warned me about. They got glitter in the bathroom I'm
using. It has a big mirror, and she and Jasmine did their face paints in
there. Jasmine was a statue, so her makeup was all white, with a little
glitter. Holly was a peacock, so she had several colors and lots of glitter.
I recommended wet toilet paper.
That's pretty cool that they thought of cleaning that mess up as soon as they
were done trick-or-treating. It wasn't my idea or suggestion. They wouldn't
have "been in trouble" if they didn't.
So...
Here we have a child who has always been allowed to eat all the candy she
wants, and on the biggest candy-night, following four and a half hours of
mostly trick or treating, she chooses to... clean a bathroom.
Sandra
<< I'm new here & was wondering what exactly do "unschoolers" do
in a normal day?Do you ever do workbooks,etc. >>
My kids have all owned workbooks. Some were given to us, some they picked
out at Toys'RUs or a bookstore, some I bought because they had some sort of
puzzle the kids were liking. They're treated like coloring books, maze
books, word-search... they go in the pile of books to pick up and mess with
if you feel like it.
There was one good Animaniacs math book that got a fair amount of use.
My kids have never completel finished a coloring book or a workbook. I would
no more make them work in one than in the other.
<<I was wondering what many of you do in a
normal day to teach your kids.>>
I do little to nothing to teach them, but I am kind of having my radar out
for being there if they're trying to do, learn, or puzzle something out and
they might be stuck or frustrated, and I might boost or nudge.
I can't get into my van. I can get up to the door into a good position. But
someone else has to boost me up far enough for me to get onto the seat. This
is recent and temporary. When I have a walking cast instead of "don't put
weight on this," I'll be able to get in myself. So it's kind of like that.
They can get in position to complete an idea or a project, and if it looks
like they need a word spelled, or a suggestion for which kind of glue to use,
or where to look for something, I'll nudge or boost.
Tomorrow night I have to get into the van again. We're going to see Fiddler
on the Roof. I get to sit in the wheelchair row.
-=- how to make a "schedule" of what to do.Any
help/advice would be appreciahas to be anywhere except Kirby goes to work
from 3:00 to 7:30 or so. Tuesday Kirby has karate: teaches, then has a
class, then two hours of kobudo (weapons) with the adults.
So far the week sounds like Kirby's all organized! But most of the week
Kirby is out and about with older friends, playing board games, playing card
games, playing video games, hanging around IHOP where one of them works.
Wednesday Holly has a fiddle lesson. Keith has "fighter practice" (armored
combat, SCA, or did until lately; They quit when daylight savings time and
coldness arrive). Etc.
Other than those kinds of appointments, we have some checklists and deadline
considerations. It's not a structure that looks like school. It's a
structure that looks like my life has always looked. Too much stuff, too
many commitments, lots of movies and music and jokes and people in and out.
New things come into the house, they're examined, discussed, named, played
with, shown around, and eventually put somewhere. Maybe eaten, if
appropriate. Things to leave the house, we check whether others approve of
it being given away or whatever, we discuss it, it's delivered or mailed or
given to charity or whatever. That's a lot of categorization, verbal and
mental.
The trick-or-treaters have returned. It's 10:16. There were several teens
and two younger girls (10 and 12). When they finished our neighborhood, they
got in two vehicles and drove to the neighborhood of the granny of one of
them, and did some more.
Every year before this I have claimed some candy as a fee for walking around
with a trick-or-treater. THIS year for the first time I shall have to simply
beg politely.
I saved some milk from the dinner Keith brought me, to wash down the candy I
hope I will receive. Keith has gone to bed. I will too, soon, on the couch,
by the fire, under the influence of pain killers and muscle relaxers. I will
sleep the fitful twitchy sleep of the drugged.
One weird effect of the drugs when I was taking them more frequently, the
first two weeks, was interesting. I would kind of talk in my sleep, but not
talk at all. It was moving my hands in my sleep, which I've never done
before. I would be dreaming of doing something, and would move my hands in
the same way sometimes people talk in their sleep. I know, because I would
wake myself up with it. One night I dreamed of sorting warm laundry, to fold
towels. I was pulling on my shirt, and it wasn't lifting up, but I kept
grabbing the cloth and pulling it. I dreamed I was eating, and I touched my
hand to my mouth. I dreamed someone was giving me a taste of something, and
I opened my mouth and lifted my head up, and it woke me up. I have reached
out my arm to touch something.
I asked Holly if I could please have some of her candy. She said, "Sure, but
first we're going to clean up the bathroom some because we made a mess."
The mess, she had warned me about. They got glitter in the bathroom I'm
using. It has a big mirror, and she and Jasmine did their face paints in
there. Jasmine was a statue, so her makeup was all white, with a little
glitter. Holly was a peacock, so she had several colors and lots of glitter.
I recommended wet toilet paper.
That's pretty cool that they thought of cleaning that mess up as soon as they
were done trick-or-treating. It wasn't my idea or suggestion. They wouldn't
have "been in trouble" if they didn't.
So...
Here we have a child who has always been allowed to eat all the candy she
wants, and on the biggest candy-night, following four and a half hours of
mostly trick or treating, she chooses to... clean a bathroom.
Sandra
[email protected]
In a message dated 10/31/02 10:27:46 PM, SandraDodd@... writes:
<< So...
Here we have a child who has always been allowed to eat all the candy she
wants, and on the biggest candy-night, following four and a half hours of
mostly trick or treating, she chooses to... clean a bathroom.
Bathroom cleaned, Holly came in. I asked if people had known she was a
peacock. She said yes, and one guy said, "A Peacock! Very artistic!"
So, chitchat done, I said "Can I have candy now?"
She said, "Jasmine and I are going to take showers upstairs."
I said "But I saved some milk and it will get warm!"
She said, "Our plan was to shower and change and then exchange candy. Drink
your milk, and I'll bring you some more to drink with the candy."
**sigh**
Maturity. Why does she have more than I do?
Sandra
<< So...
Here we have a child who has always been allowed to eat all the candy she
wants, and on the biggest candy-night, following four and a half hours of
mostly trick or treating, she chooses to... clean a bathroom.
>>UPDATE:
Bathroom cleaned, Holly came in. I asked if people had known she was a
peacock. She said yes, and one guy said, "A Peacock! Very artistic!"
So, chitchat done, I said "Can I have candy now?"
She said, "Jasmine and I are going to take showers upstairs."
I said "But I saved some milk and it will get warm!"
She said, "Our plan was to shower and change and then exchange candy. Drink
your milk, and I'll bring you some more to drink with the candy."
**sigh**
Maturity. Why does she have more than I do?
Sandra