Halbowman

"You Raise Them To Be Independent"

292560 — Tue, 18 Jun 2013 13:10:00 +0000

You raise them to be independent, then you’re terrified when they are.

The Technology Of Treating Children Like Fully Formed Human Beings

292560 — Mon, 17 Jun 2013 15:21:00 +0000

I remember my first formal exposure to the “technology” of treating children like fully formed human beings — and I often do think of it as a kind of technology in that it’s the application of scientific knowledge for practical purposes. I’d previously been exposed to this technology via my daughter’s preschool teacher, with whom I’d been working as a cooperative classroom parent for many months, but, as technology often does for the uninitiated, it just looked like magic, something Teacher Chris was able to do because she was Teacher Chris. I was in one of Tom Drummond’s classes at North Seattle Community College and he began to explain the ultimate ineffectiveness of “directive” statements

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The Technology Of Treating Children Like Fully Formed Human Beings

Intelligence Is Not Enough

292560 — Fri, 14 Jun 2013 15:19:00 +0000

We must remember that intelligence is not enough. Intelligence plus character — that is the goal of true education.

Learning To Garden With Young Children

292560 — Thu, 13 Jun 2013 13:42:00 +0000

When my wife and I purchased our first house, we wound up with a gorgeous lawn, beautiful shrubbery, fantastic trees and many beds for growing annuals. I almost immediately killed the lawn, my first of many.

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Learning To Garden With Young Children

Learning To Garden With Young Children

292560 — Thu, 13 Jun 2013 13:42:00 +0000

See original here:
Learning To Garden With Young Children

A Typical Day

292560 — Wed, 12 Jun 2013 13:22:00 +0000

There are days after which I feel like things could have been better. Those are most days.

Link:
A Typical Day

A Typical Day

292560 — Wed, 12 Jun 2013 13:22:00 +0000

There are days after which I feel like things could have been better. Those are most days.

Link:
A Typical Day

Creating A Culture Of Inclusion

292560 — Tue, 11 Jun 2013 13:44:00 +0000

When my daughter Josephine was a preschooler, she complained, “I wanted to play with her, but when I asked to play, she said, No .” This wasn’t a once or twice complaint, but one she voiced almost daily, and more often than not she was being rejected by her best friends.

Worst end of school mom ever

admin — Mon, 10 Jun 2013 19:19:03 +0000

This is a blog post is directly from Jen Hatmaker. If you don’t know about Jen, well, you definitely should. I don’t know much about her, but what I do know, I like – a lot. Get to know her: subscribe to her blog, or like her on facebook, or follow her on twitter. Or, better yet, buy her book! She’s pretty darn cool.

You know the Beginning of School Enthusiasm? When the pencils are fresh and the notebooks are new and the kids’ backpacks don’t look like they lined the den of a pack of filthy hyenas? Moms, remember how you packed innovative and nutritional lunches and laid clothes out the night before and labeled shelves for each child’s work and school correspondence and completed homework in a timely manner?

I am exactly still like that at the end of school, except the opposite.

We are limping, limping across the finish line, folks. I tapped out somewhere in April and at this point, it is a miracle my kids are still even going to school. I haven’t checked homework folders in three weeks, because, well, I just can’t. Cannot. Can. Not. I can’t look at the homework in the folder. Is there homework in the folder? I don’t even know. Are other moms still looking in the homework folder? I don’t even care.

Then my son Ben tells me Tuesday that he needs a Ben Franklin costume for the Living History Museum today, and I’m like what fresh hell is this?? I have no idea how I missed the correspondence on this (because I’m not checking backpacks is just a theory), but Brandon is the Costume and Project Parent and I am the Daily Grinder, which is a division of labor we agreed on to ensure our kids actually graduate one day and move out, but he is out of town on a mancation, so this is on me. I cannot even handle signing a folder in late May; a colonial costume is cause for full, unrestrained despair.

So Ben went to school like this today, and there is no way this will ever not be a part of his childhood. Please note my scarf hanging out the bottom of his vest, as well as the soccer socks stretched over his Adidas pants. Just whatever, man.

My shame was somewhat mitigated when I saw a kid wearing a random t-shirt and jeans with a pair of swim goggles around his neck (Michael Phelps) and another girl with a piece of paper taped to her shirt with her character’s name written in marker.

I caught the eyes of their moms and was all solidarity, you guys.

Teachers, we need to make a deal that after April testing, we don’t have to do anything else. You don’t. I don’t. I don’t care if you watch movies in class five days a week and take four recesses a day. I mean, my son Caleb had to bring an About Me poster with five school days left in the year. In September, this might have produced something noteworthy, with pictures perhaps, even some thoughtful components to describe his winning qualities, but as we’ve used up all our bandwidth, we yanked trash out of our actual trash can, glued it to a poster, and called it a day. I am not exaggerating when I tell you this is the very most we can do on May 29th. This is our best work:

Note the caveman labels: DRINK, MOTORCYCLE, GAME, SHOP, FOOD.
End of school hard.

The emails coming in for All Of The Things – class gift, end of year letters, luncheon signup, party supplies, awards ceremonies, pictures for the slide shows, final projects – are like a tsunami of doom. They are endless. I mean, they will never ever end. There is no end of it. I will never finish and turn it all in and get it to the (correct) Room Mom and get it all emailed and I am pretty sure the final week of school will never be over and this is the end for me.

Brandon (husband): “You don’t have to do all that, you know. Just blow it off.”

Me, staring blankly: “Well, what a lovely thought you’re having there in your brain. How nice for you to be thinking that thought. I want to live in your imaginary world where my failure to do the School Stuff doesn’t mean our kid is the only one not wearing a purple shirt or didn’t have his pictures in the slideshow or didn’t bring in a handmade card for his teacher like every other student. I’ll just ‘blow it off’ and our kids can work it out with their therapists later.”

“Touchy.”

“You don’t even know about all this, man.”

So, Mom out there sending Lunchables with your kid, making her wear shoes with holes because we’re. almost. there, practicing “auditory reading” with your 1st grader, I got your back, sister. We were awesome back in October; don’t you forget that. We used to care, and that counts for something. Next year’s teachers will get a fresher version of us in August, and they won’t even know the levels of suckage we will succumb to by May. Hang in there, Mama. Just a few more days until summer, when approximately 19 minutes into our glorious respite from homework, liberated from the crush of it all, ready to party like it’s 1999, our precious children, having whooped and celebrated and “graduated” and squealed all the way home will announce:

“I’m bored.”

Where The Action Is

292560 — Mon, 10 Jun 2013 17:08:00 +0000

Several years ago it was the word “dodo” that was the automatic laugh line.

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Where The Action Is