Monday, November 17, 2008

In sickness



When illness strikes sometimes it can be a gift in disguise. What's the gift? Slowness. Time out of time. There is nothing for you to be or do but be cared for or if destiny wills it, to be the carer. I don't enjoy seeing my children ill any more than the next Mama. But when I try really hard I can see that slowing right down, paring everything down to the body and it's wellness can be like scouring away at the less important bits of life and leaving an appreciation of simple pleasures. My two youngest have been very ill with a viral infection which left them in bed with fevers over 40C for nine days apiece. Ear ache, vomiting, headaches, sore limbs..... we had one hospital trip and one Dr visit and mama care in between. The joy of seeing my little boy back upright and smiling without any pain - magical. Despite his thinned limbs. My little girly smiling, even though pale with purple smudged eyes. It is good. Little things take on a greater significance, like seeing the yellow leaves from the window, having a magazine to read, using lavender soap to wash away sweaty necks.... and for myself I step outside for the first time in days, breathe in and out and feel as renewed as if a trip to the sea had happened.

Not much in the way of anything besides beds and rest and simple activities here until recovery is complete.

Simple things giving lots of pleasure:



Playdough made from this recipe and coloured with natural dye (beetroot juice).

And above, wooden beads painted with watercolours and then smoothed in oil and beeswax.

Friday, November 07, 2008

Unschooling thoughts



We have been unschooling since my children were born. In essence what this means to me is that the learning that happens is directed and initiated by my children. For example, when they ask the time I tell them. This is not the same as telling them how a clock works and slipping in the basics of how to tell the time one's self while the subject is at hand. It is just answering the question asked. It is twenty minutes past six I say, as we both look at the clock. That is it. Or I sometimes might add, the big hand is at the number four and the little hand is at six, so it must be twenty past six. But really it feels a little patronising to do that. Like my hidden agenda is to teach them how to tell the time, rather than assist with their own learning - it felt sort of false to elaborate (would I say that to another adult if they asked the same question?). I am not doubting that knowing how to tell the time is a valuable skill, it is, but their aims and questions were directed at finding out what time was right there and then (not how to tell them time for themselves or what the various numbers around the clock might mean) and so my answer needs to reflect that in a simple way. Since I am using telling the time as an example here I'll tell you how my older son recently learned this skill.

I bought a watch for him a year ago thinking he'd like one since he had been asking about the time fairly often. But he was not so bothered about it and never once wore it. Or not for very long, it would be on one minute and then off the next. And he never asked me how it worked. He said to me later that the strap hurt his arm - it was a ridiculous Velcro one. Fast forward a year later and he finds the watch in a draw and asks me if we can get a new strap in town from the watch shop he has seen. We go and he picks one out and the jeweller person fits it on with little screws. He asks me what time it is and I say quarter past two and then he asks me a few more questions - I forget what. BUT for the remainder of the day (and ever since!) he tells me several times a day what the time is. And he is nearly always right. That first day he told me every five minutes, along with telling every person we met. In one day he learned for himself how to tell the time and when he was stuck, he asked me. I have no doubt that over the years and months he was absorbing the face of the clocks we saw and taking in what he needed until he could do it for himself.

This is not a story to highlight how fabulous the learning of unschooling is compared to the schooled way of sitting at a desk and filling out worksheets and booklets and having many a lesson about how to tell the time (although it does seem rather laborious and unnecessary when it can obviously happen spontaneously) - rather I thought it was just pretty cool that I had not ever really properly taught him in the traditional sense.

It highlighted for me (when I often get anxious that we have no written record of what my children learn) that learning happens from the inside and springs best from self motivation and a desire to learn. When that is in place the learning happens super fast. These sorts of things reinforce for me my feelings that unschooling is A Good Thing. That learning happens every day all of the time. That sitting in a classroom and filling exercise book after exercise book doesn't guarantee anything is learned or retained. I spent five years learning German in school, passed my GCSE in it and really doubt now if I could ever hold a conversation with a German beyond hello and how are you. Friends of ours recently took a trip to Italy and in the six weeks leading up to it the children and mother took home every available Italian learning kit from the library and by the time they went they all were able to order food and ask directions and understand basic signs and what Italians were saying to them. When they needed and wanted to learn a language, in context, meaning they were not learning it for the language's own sake or to pass an exam, but were going to apply it and *live* it, they were more than capable of it.

This brings up for me how important it is to be learning as a part of life, not in the abstract, but by doing and being. We don't need to watch a film about the Post Office we can just go and post a letter; buy our stamp deciding which to purchase - first class or second? Talk to the post lady about her dog, hear her telling someone else that their parcel was too big to go through the letter box they would have to pay extra.... all of these little encounters and interactions are such valuable learning about the way our world works, contributing to individuals who can easily navigate living in the real world. The child that has pocket money and saves and spends is doing valuable maths, as is he when he is baking and measuring quantities, or weighing out how much extra is needed when we need to double the recipe to fit more people.... The child who writes a list or letter or email or makes and addresses a card is writing and spelling - but more so is learning these skills because these things are part of living a real life and doing real things, useful, purposeful. The learning has meaning. Which is exactly what unschooling is. Simply put. Living Life!

Cold Feet



Is what anyone wearing my current on-the-needles knitwear would have. I have been knitting the two bigger socks here now for over two years. I have been known to finish socks, I knit Felix two pairs last year and my mother a pair the Christmas before and my sister too, plus my circulatory challenged FIL (see! I can do it!)



BUT. I get bored knitting socks. I just do. And there's the challenge. I knit one (or get 3/4 of the way through one as you can see) and my knitting fever for them wanes. I get tired of the tiny needles and the forever same-same colour patterns (but I do LOVE self patterning sock wool, I really do - it's so clever). My FIL loves the pair I knit for him three or four Christmas's ago. He has some circulation problems which means he can't wear regular socks with an elasticy bit, and the lovely warm temperature regulating qualities of wool wowed him. So much so that my MIL tells me he wears them for a day or two, she hand washes them, they dry overnight and he pops them back on the next day and so it has gone on these past couple of years.... the same pair!! I have promised him another pair (or rather I did - a couple of years ago - thank goodness I did not say when I'd be finished knitting them, ha!). One day those blue ones will be his, I really really will pick them up soon (only because the guilt of seeing them again in my knitting bag kills me: I get this visual of an old man wearing threadbare socks, shivering through the winter (even thought the reality is his home being a centrally heated dome of tropical heat.....).



As soon as the tiny darling ones I am knitting for Esmé get finished (she only has one other pair of socks), and the promised hat for cousin Ruben, and the green pixie shoes I have knit one of..... cute yeah? What is it about footwear? I don't think I am destined to be good at finishing any of them..... and who are the other striped ones for right at the top? I have No Idea. Not one. But am sure they'll be lovely once finished....

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

two little dickie birds



.... not sitting on a wall but on a recently acquired second hand red cardigan. It needed two little weird blobs of pretend felt (pretend felt I tell ya!) cutting off and then covering over. And with what else but the dear little funky birds I plagiarised from Heartfelt. Thanks again, I adore them! I'd like to use them on every Little itty bitty thing that needs embellishing but my boys drew the line at patches on their jeans :) Of course - but still, I had to ask.

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

O X O X O





This is the latest of my sewing adventures - a little drawstring bag with travel Naughts and Crosses game. My dh cut the discs of wood for me, I sanded and Isaac oiled them. I painted the symbols on after the pics were taken. Also the flip side of the discs are numbered 1-9 for the game Magic Square - or for little children, just for counting.



I finally managed to get a little table hauled out of the garage, washed sanded and installed upstairs in the little spare room (now renamed as my grand 'Sewing Room'. How exciting! I got to try out it's new name today when Felix asked if I had seen his skeleton mask and plastic handcuffs - Oh yes! In my Sewing Room! He looked at me with wide eyes and said; do you mean the Sofa-bed room? Looking pointedly at me as if I regularly act in a crazy manner and randomly change the names of the rooms in the house. I may as well have said yes dear, in the Teapot room right next to the Banana storage area, seeing the My Mother Is Strange look on his face ..... goodness. Only time will tell if the new name sticks). And so a flurry of excited sewing has begun.



Little Beauty was rewarded for her patience and 'help' with a little white plusch mouse with jingle bell sewn inside.

Monday, November 03, 2008

Christmas dolls



Ok, so I can't remember when I started making these, but today I finished that last bits of them. They are pretty unformed with simple faces but suggestive too. The flowered one is made with a scrap of Cath Kidston fabric and is stuffed firmly with organic sheep fleece. The blue one is made from a piece of sky cotton velour and is my favourite. It is warm; filled loosely with fleece and is the sort of doll that even now I'd secretly and childishly like to take to bed with me. Of course, there's no room, what with my real life baby lying tummy to tummy with me but in that dreamy childhood remembering way I think it's a real girly bed time doll. I have this darling piece of moss green cotton velour that I think I will make another with. I lay the blue doll next to Esmé this morning and then picked it up and made it talk and dance for her and she grinned and goo-gooed. Then gave it a squeeze and tossed it to one side, utterly forgotten. For now. It made me smile to think of a time when she might tuck it up in a bit of blanket and croon to it like I do to her, or sit it propped in a corner and chat to it like I remember doing with dolls. Perhaps it might be whizzed around in a cart, lurching out and pressed back in toddler haste. What ever it's future holds it's good to be making toys for my own children, it feels nurturing, like when I knit for them or hold them to me to feed. I wonder if the items themselves hold a bit of that nurturing mama-magic in the very stitches and fabric and if our children feel it when they play with them?



Ok, so it is really just a bunch of scraps made into a plaything, but sometimes in the right light, for a moment, it is so much more.