Saturday, April 30, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Complex Math
Math. Homework. Long division. Complex numbers. Ugly words in our house right now!
Emma attends a school called Spectrum Progressive. They work hard to make sure that math concepts are introduced with concrete examples rather than just learning how to manipulate numbers without a firm understanding of the underlying meaning. They try to work at a child's developmental pace. There is a fair bit of individual instruction given the small class sizes. All of these things should make learning math less intimidating. And yet.
And yet.
Emma is very intimidated by math!
Throughout grade school, I was in advanced math groups. I remember how our small group of students had advanced workbooks, how I loved the order and logic of math, and how much I loved some of my teachers during that period of schooling. (This was before the abstract concepts of algebra were introduced before I was developmentally ready --it went downhill for a while there after that, and I never fully recovered from that trauma.)
Rob teaches math. He'll freely admit he's not a math-genius, and is not interested in math theory. He likes the logic and organization of math, loves applying it to physics problems and building stuff in his workshop. His students love him because he's so organized and helps them work through problems, rather than just throwing the theory up on the board and leaving them to work out how to use it.
We both like to write stuff down, neatness and organization on paper helping both of us make sense of math and other problems.
So where did this kid of ours get her approach? Although she's been introduced to math in a way that I think would have been great, she seems to hate math! She's sloppy, and easily distracted, losing her place and easily forgetting why she wrote down some sloppy number in the first place. Rob and I often have to help her with her math homework --she never seems to have understood what they did in school. We don't mind, but the fact that she's so sloppy drives both of us nuts! She's so easily distracted that what should take a half hour instead takes several! If she was dividing food up for friends, she would know instantly how many times 2 goes into 6, but that same division in a math problem leaves her lost.
Lord, I can't even imagine if we were home-schooling!!
Emma attends a school called Spectrum Progressive. They work hard to make sure that math concepts are introduced with concrete examples rather than just learning how to manipulate numbers without a firm understanding of the underlying meaning. They try to work at a child's developmental pace. There is a fair bit of individual instruction given the small class sizes. All of these things should make learning math less intimidating. And yet.
And yet.
Emma is very intimidated by math!
Throughout grade school, I was in advanced math groups. I remember how our small group of students had advanced workbooks, how I loved the order and logic of math, and how much I loved some of my teachers during that period of schooling. (This was before the abstract concepts of algebra were introduced before I was developmentally ready --it went downhill for a while there after that, and I never fully recovered from that trauma.)
Rob teaches math. He'll freely admit he's not a math-genius, and is not interested in math theory. He likes the logic and organization of math, loves applying it to physics problems and building stuff in his workshop. His students love him because he's so organized and helps them work through problems, rather than just throwing the theory up on the board and leaving them to work out how to use it.
We both like to write stuff down, neatness and organization on paper helping both of us make sense of math and other problems.
So where did this kid of ours get her approach? Although she's been introduced to math in a way that I think would have been great, she seems to hate math! She's sloppy, and easily distracted, losing her place and easily forgetting why she wrote down some sloppy number in the first place. Rob and I often have to help her with her math homework --she never seems to have understood what they did in school. We don't mind, but the fact that she's so sloppy drives both of us nuts! She's so easily distracted that what should take a half hour instead takes several! If she was dividing food up for friends, she would know instantly how many times 2 goes into 6, but that same division in a math problem leaves her lost.
Lord, I can't even imagine if we were home-schooling!!
Another Christmas?
When did Easter become another Christmas? When Emma first said something about all the "stuff" her classmates got for Easter, I thought she was exaggerating. Based on some photos of Easter baskets of facebook friends, she's not! In some households, the Easter bunny fills the basket with presents, and then hides the candy around the house.
I give up --I just can't keep up with the Jones.
I give up --I just can't keep up with the Jones.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Eyes Wide Open
Today Emma's choir rehearsal was in a very large Lutheran Church. I was brought up Catholic, Rob was brought up Presbyterian, and we're currently part of a Unitarian-Universalist congregation. Although I'm sure I learned a lot as a child about the various rituals shared by many Christian denominations, it's been a long time since I've thought much about those explanations.
Emma has been attending religious education classes at our UU church, but they have focused more on the overall beliefs of different religions, rather than specific rituals. While we were sitting in the Lutheran church's sanctuary, waiting for rehearsal to begin, she looked around. She said it felt big and fancy and uncomfortable, but I explained that it was their sanctuary, just like our church has a sanctuary --ours is just a lot smaller and with more modest decorations (we're a small congregation). She had a lot of questions --who paid for the fanciness, why was there a cloth draped over the cross, and what was that basin on a pedestal in the middle of one of the isles. Individual contributions from a large congregation, Easter, the ritual of Baptism and finally a fumbling explanation of the concept of original sin. Phew! An educational experience for both of us :-)
Emma has been attending religious education classes at our UU church, but they have focused more on the overall beliefs of different religions, rather than specific rituals. While we were sitting in the Lutheran church's sanctuary, waiting for rehearsal to begin, she looked around. She said it felt big and fancy and uncomfortable, but I explained that it was their sanctuary, just like our church has a sanctuary --ours is just a lot smaller and with more modest decorations (we're a small congregation). She had a lot of questions --who paid for the fanciness, why was there a cloth draped over the cross, and what was that basin on a pedestal in the middle of one of the isles. Individual contributions from a large congregation, Easter, the ritual of Baptism and finally a fumbling explanation of the concept of original sin. Phew! An educational experience for both of us :-)
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Easter Magic
Today was one of those emotionally exhausting days, because Rob and I made the wrong decision last night.
Emma realized that Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, etc. are not real around a year ago. It was a few days after last Easter, when we were sitting on the couch together, and she asked "So, is the Easter Bunny real?" Several answers ran through my mind, but I went with "No." We talked about it for a while, as she asked about all the other magical occurrences, and although she was a little disappointed, it wasn't a bad conversation. She was nine at the time, and it seemed to me to be a good time to confirm what she'd begun to suspect.
Last night, Rob and I put her Easter basket together; candy from Vermont Nut Free Chocolates and a snuggly lamb lovey. In the past we've hidden chocolate eggs around the house, and left a trail of jelly beans from her bed, down the stairs, toward her basket. We figured we were off the hook this year --she knew what was what.
Wrong. She was so very disappointed. It was heartbreaking. "Just because I know doesn't mean you have to act like I know." she said, fighting back tears.
Lesson learned. Next year, we'll be hiding eggs.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Development Day
Tomorrow is a scheduled "Development Day". After attending two of these a year for 15 years, I now know what we are developing: our patience.
The college administration sends out a list of "break-out" sessions. It's a pity they're not about literally breaking out . . . but I digress. These are sessions that have been created with the express purpose of boring to death anyone with an ounce of intellectual curiosity. The people who can sit through an eight-hour day of this are rewarded by not having their pay docked.
Rob and I never arrive in time for the opening remarks. The day is supposed to begin at 8 a.m., but we don't drop Emma off at school until 8:15, and then have a 15-20 minute drive to campus. The admin is tricky with the sign up sheet: sometimes there's a table set up outside the location of the opening remarks and you sign in for the day. Sometimes it's individual sign up sheets in the break-out sessions. They like to keep us guessing.
Rob and I never stay till the end either (unless I have been stupid enough to agree to present one of these break-out sessions that begins after 2:30 p.m.) because we have to pick Emma up from school at 3 p.m. While some people might consider these days important enough to sign their child up for after school care, we do not. We think that still being sane when we pick Emma up is important, and if we attended the last sessions, she might have insane parents driving her home.
Wow, I just can't wait!
The college administration sends out a list of "break-out" sessions. It's a pity they're not about literally breaking out . . . but I digress. These are sessions that have been created with the express purpose of boring to death anyone with an ounce of intellectual curiosity. The people who can sit through an eight-hour day of this are rewarded by not having their pay docked.
Rob and I never arrive in time for the opening remarks. The day is supposed to begin at 8 a.m., but we don't drop Emma off at school until 8:15, and then have a 15-20 minute drive to campus. The admin is tricky with the sign up sheet: sometimes there's a table set up outside the location of the opening remarks and you sign in for the day. Sometimes it's individual sign up sheets in the break-out sessions. They like to keep us guessing.
Rob and I never stay till the end either (unless I have been stupid enough to agree to present one of these break-out sessions that begins after 2:30 p.m.) because we have to pick Emma up from school at 3 p.m. While some people might consider these days important enough to sign their child up for after school care, we do not. We think that still being sane when we pick Emma up is important, and if we attended the last sessions, she might have insane parents driving her home.
Wow, I just can't wait!
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Shorts
I just ground some Steve's Espresso from the Coffee and Tea Exchange in Chicago, where I get all my coffee beans (coffee snob that I am). What a wonderful aroma.
Now that I'm wearing my slippers again, because winter has settled in for good apparently, one of my socks keeps turning all the way around. It's very annoying, and I wonder why? Is it the sock, or my foot?
Today is very peaceful --after the commotion of projects and painting over the weekend, and my way-too-long day of teaching on Mondays, I'm actually at home, with a half hour to be alone, a cappuccino to sip on, as I type. And I managed to clean off part of the kitchen island (the project stuff is still sitting on the kitchen table, but I'm not facing that direction.)
I talked to my mom yesterday between classes, and my dad seems to be incrementally improving --he was actually out of bed and downstairs. He has some bloodwork scheduled for today, and they're going to see if any problems related to his kidney's turn up in that, and see if the back pain eases on its own.
And Emma made it through her outdoors field trip on the coldest day of the week yesterday without frostbite, and was in good spirits this morning before school. This is the first day in a few weeks where she was not requesting a scarf or something else I'd worn recently that smells like me to help her get through the day. Her friend K is coming home from school with us to see her new yellow room.
It's cold and rainy outside, but it's cozy and happy in here.
Now that I'm wearing my slippers again, because winter has settled in for good apparently, one of my socks keeps turning all the way around. It's very annoying, and I wonder why? Is it the sock, or my foot?
Today is very peaceful --after the commotion of projects and painting over the weekend, and my way-too-long day of teaching on Mondays, I'm actually at home, with a half hour to be alone, a cappuccino to sip on, as I type. And I managed to clean off part of the kitchen island (the project stuff is still sitting on the kitchen table, but I'm not facing that direction.)
I talked to my mom yesterday between classes, and my dad seems to be incrementally improving --he was actually out of bed and downstairs. He has some bloodwork scheduled for today, and they're going to see if any problems related to his kidney's turn up in that, and see if the back pain eases on its own.
And Emma made it through her outdoors field trip on the coldest day of the week yesterday without frostbite, and was in good spirits this morning before school. This is the first day in a few weeks where she was not requesting a scarf or something else I'd worn recently that smells like me to help her get through the day. Her friend K is coming home from school with us to see her new yellow room.
It's cold and rainy outside, but it's cozy and happy in here.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
The work week feels like a vacation!
What a weekend. On Friday afternoon, we removed the furniture and taped Emma's room, on Saturday Emma and I created a relief map of Algeria and a diorama of a desert school, (while Rob celebrated Record Store Day), and today we painted Emma's room "Acorn Squash", which is a pretty dandelion color.
Tomorrow Emma has a field trip to a local forest preserve/learning center. I have to remember to pack her a waste-free lunch (they weigh all the waste).
I also found out my dad has been sick --he had the pacemaker put in a few weeks ago, and that's doing fine, but he developed a severe bladder infection and now has such bad back pain that he's having trouble doing anything but staying in bed. My sister and brother, who both live in the same town as my parents, are being great about helping out. Talking to my mom today, I could tell how worried she is. Getting old sucks.
I also found out my dad has been sick --he had the pacemaker put in a few weeks ago, and that's doing fine, but he developed a severe bladder infection and now has such bad back pain that he's having trouble doing anything but staying in bed. My sister and brother, who both live in the same town as my parents, are being great about helping out. Talking to my mom today, I could tell how worried she is. Getting old sucks.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Working Without a Thumb
We're re-doing Emma's room. She's been asking for us to paint it for at least a year, but recently she really ramped up the request. As I type, she and Rob are upstairs, taping. It's always interesting to do these tasks with Rob --he prepares so thoroughly that it often takes much longer than the painting itself.
The room was already emptied of stuff (we insisted Emma do that herself, so she'd realize just how much work this stuff is --we're mean that way), and Rob has spent several hours now, unscrewing air vents, light switch plates, and I'm sure anything else that's screwed in. He's vacuumed until there is not a speck of dust left, he's taped the baseboards, and he and Emma are currently taping thick paper down to the floor, to make sure we don't get a drop of paint on it.
Last year I re-painted the guest room. I insisted on doing it all myself, which meant that I could just drag a drop cloth around as I moved from spot to spot. While I did unscrew light switches, I didn't remove the ceiling lamp as he suggested --I didn't even tape it. I just very carefully painted around it. Yes, I had to wipe a few minor drops of paint off the floor --but that took much less time than all this papering and taping business!
And, if you're wondering why I'm not up there helping, it's because he busted my thumb earlier --we had a cabinet top that had gotten paint-stuck to it's bottom. He asked me to hold the bottom down so that he could wrench the top off, and it wrenched right onto my thumb. It was very painful, is now slightly swollen, and it makes a great excuse from all this prepping. It's really hard to do things without a thumb --and it makes clear exactly how we differ from the rest of the animals on this planet.
Interestingly, it doesn't seem to be stopping me from typing. :-)
The room was already emptied of stuff (we insisted Emma do that herself, so she'd realize just how much work this stuff is --we're mean that way), and Rob has spent several hours now, unscrewing air vents, light switch plates, and I'm sure anything else that's screwed in. He's vacuumed until there is not a speck of dust left, he's taped the baseboards, and he and Emma are currently taping thick paper down to the floor, to make sure we don't get a drop of paint on it.
Last year I re-painted the guest room. I insisted on doing it all myself, which meant that I could just drag a drop cloth around as I moved from spot to spot. While I did unscrew light switches, I didn't remove the ceiling lamp as he suggested --I didn't even tape it. I just very carefully painted around it. Yes, I had to wipe a few minor drops of paint off the floor --but that took much less time than all this papering and taping business!
And, if you're wondering why I'm not up there helping, it's because he busted my thumb earlier --we had a cabinet top that had gotten paint-stuck to it's bottom. He asked me to hold the bottom down so that he could wrench the top off, and it wrenched right onto my thumb. It was very painful, is now slightly swollen, and it makes a great excuse from all this prepping. It's really hard to do things without a thumb --and it makes clear exactly how we differ from the rest of the animals on this planet.
Interestingly, it doesn't seem to be stopping me from typing. :-)
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Conservatism
Sometimes, when I listen to conservatives on the news I wonder what I was thinking, bringing a child into this world. These people pretend that they are fiscally conservative, but if you look at their actions, they are simply working hard to ensure that none of their tax money goes to helping people who are less fortunate than they are. I feel a sense of fatality --those of us who are sane are far too few, and what kind of America will Emma be living in?
Monday, April 11, 2011
Tanzania
Earlier in the semester, Emma asked me to give a presentation to her class. This year, her school had gotten the loan of a huge vinyl floor map of Africa from National Geographic --it's making its way through different schools nation-wide. Because of that, they made Africa their theme for the year (thus a diorama of the Algerian Desert).
Back in another age and time, I did fieldwork in Tanzania, and I have a bunch of slides. Of course, this was eons ago, so everything was shot on film, and very few of them were made into photos --most of them have been hibernating in my office in a notebook for 15 years now. We've just gone through them, to pick out the ones we'll have digitized and made into large photos to pass around to the class. It's quite a trip down memory lane.
I spent about three months in Tanzania, traveling around and collecting rocks which were shipped back to the U of Michigan, where I was a graduate student. This was in 1992 --almost 20 years ago now! It was an amazing experience, especially because I was there to work, and there for a longer time than a typical tourist. Our home base was in the house of a bush pilot who flew medical supplies out to remote areas. His house was in the middle of a coffee plantation, in the city of Arusha. There were bars on the windows, and he hired a local man to spend the night outside his home to deter thieves. This man would have a rather smokey fire lit all night, and it took me a long time to really appreciate the smell of a campfire again.
We picked out photos of elephants, giraffes, wildebeest, lions, and zebra along with a few pictures of local people, Mt. Kilimanjaroo, and a baobab tree.
Back in another age and time, I did fieldwork in Tanzania, and I have a bunch of slides. Of course, this was eons ago, so everything was shot on film, and very few of them were made into photos --most of them have been hibernating in my office in a notebook for 15 years now. We've just gone through them, to pick out the ones we'll have digitized and made into large photos to pass around to the class. It's quite a trip down memory lane.
I spent about three months in Tanzania, traveling around and collecting rocks which were shipped back to the U of Michigan, where I was a graduate student. This was in 1992 --almost 20 years ago now! It was an amazing experience, especially because I was there to work, and there for a longer time than a typical tourist. Our home base was in the house of a bush pilot who flew medical supplies out to remote areas. His house was in the middle of a coffee plantation, in the city of Arusha. There were bars on the windows, and he hired a local man to spend the night outside his home to deter thieves. This man would have a rather smokey fire lit all night, and it took me a long time to really appreciate the smell of a campfire again.
We picked out photos of elephants, giraffes, wildebeest, lions, and zebra along with a few pictures of local people, Mt. Kilimanjaroo, and a baobab tree.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Teacher Meeting
Our meeting today included both of Emma's teachers, the school director, Rob & I, and Emma. Emma has had the same teachers for three years now, and the school director is someone I've known since she worked at the college where I teach. I have a lot of respect for all these people, but I'm not sure they realize the impact this particular personality problem has had on Emma. One of the teachers, in particular, did a lot of talking, rather than listening.
I know that my view of A is not objective: I see her through the lens of the impact she's had on Emma this semester. That said, I find A to be completely insensitive to other kids feelings. She just doesn't seem to notice the non-verbal feedback she's getting from Emma, or even the polite verbal feedback.
I don't know that the meeting gave us any new strategies to help Emma, but it did let us tell them about some of the things that have been going on that they have not been aware of. If you have a kid who feels that she has to wear a mask all day at school in order to pretend that everything's fine, who has to excuse herself to go to the bathroom to cry, who cries every day when you pick her up, you have a problem. Because there have been other issues this semester with younger kids who want to be with Emma all the time, but those issues have been resolved, we were able to point out that there is something about this child that has not allowed those same strategies to resolve this particular situation.
Who wants to be a parent? :-)
I know that my view of A is not objective: I see her through the lens of the impact she's had on Emma this semester. That said, I find A to be completely insensitive to other kids feelings. She just doesn't seem to notice the non-verbal feedback she's getting from Emma, or even the polite verbal feedback.
I don't know that the meeting gave us any new strategies to help Emma, but it did let us tell them about some of the things that have been going on that they have not been aware of. If you have a kid who feels that she has to wear a mask all day at school in order to pretend that everything's fine, who has to excuse herself to go to the bathroom to cry, who cries every day when you pick her up, you have a problem. Because there have been other issues this semester with younger kids who want to be with Emma all the time, but those issues have been resolved, we were able to point out that there is something about this child that has not allowed those same strategies to resolve this particular situation.
Who wants to be a parent? :-)
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Almost
I was driving home today, behind a rather slow caddy. Always kind of annoying, but I wasn't in a terrible hurry. A red PT Cruiser was in a hurry, though. It got out, then around, and then, just as I was moving into the left turn lane, passing the caddy up, it cut the caddy off and scared him temporarily into my left turn lane. It was tight there, but we all managed to squeeze through it without scraping.
As we were all waiting at the red light, the rather old man in the caddy turned toward me and waved a hand --I think apologizing for almost side-swiping me. I wave back and smiled. I wish I could have given a few choice words to the tatooed teenager in the PT Cruiser.
As we were all waiting at the red light, the rather old man in the caddy turned toward me and waved a hand --I think apologizing for almost side-swiping me. I wave back and smiled. I wish I could have given a few choice words to the tatooed teenager in the PT Cruiser.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Mean Little Girls
Yesterday, I left Emma at school after walking her and her desert diorama in. She was happy, looking forward to the day.
I picked her up at 3 p.m., and she cried in the car for 45 minutes as we waited for choir rehearsal to start at 4 p.m. She had also spent a couple of periods during the day crying in the girls bathroom. What happened? Anna happened. Anna is seven, a "first year" in the middle elementary (ME) classroom, while Emma is 10, and a "third-year".
Emma became friendly with Anna in the beginning of the school year --since her best friends had moved up, she was left to make new friends. Anna's behavior has gotten progressively worse as the year has worn on, until now Emma is left feeling that the teachers never believe anything she says, and believe any version of events that Anna produces.
Yesterday, Anna came and sat down on the rug next to Emma, K, and another friend, B. Anna sat very close to B, even though there was plenty of room on the other side of her. B asked Anna if she could move over a bit, giving everyone more room. Anna's response was to raise her hand and tell the teachers that B was talking when she shouldn't be. The teachers made B move to a different area of the rug. Later, Emma raised her hand to explain to the teacher that B hadn't actually been doing anything wrong. The teacher called on Emma, but when Emma began her explanation, the teacher cut her off, held out her hand and said "Emma, one dollar." (They are in a money unit, and they get fined for bad behavior and other minor infractions.) After the rug time, the teacher called Emma and Anna up to her. She scolded Emma, telling her that her behavior was unacceptable. As Emma was turning away (to go to the bathroom so she could cry in private), the teacher turned to Anna and said "Come here sweetie."
I think it's obvious from that why Emma was so upset. This is a teacher whom Emma respected and loved, and suddenly this teacher is treating Emma as if she was a bad kid. Emma is quickly losing respect for the teacher, and is finding the school day to be painful.
Last night I sent off an angry email to both of her teachers, asking to schedule a meeting. We'll be meeting on Friday afternoon.
I picked her up at 3 p.m., and she cried in the car for 45 minutes as we waited for choir rehearsal to start at 4 p.m. She had also spent a couple of periods during the day crying in the girls bathroom. What happened? Anna happened. Anna is seven, a "first year" in the middle elementary (ME) classroom, while Emma is 10, and a "third-year".
Emma became friendly with Anna in the beginning of the school year --since her best friends had moved up, she was left to make new friends. Anna's behavior has gotten progressively worse as the year has worn on, until now Emma is left feeling that the teachers never believe anything she says, and believe any version of events that Anna produces.
Yesterday, Anna came and sat down on the rug next to Emma, K, and another friend, B. Anna sat very close to B, even though there was plenty of room on the other side of her. B asked Anna if she could move over a bit, giving everyone more room. Anna's response was to raise her hand and tell the teachers that B was talking when she shouldn't be. The teachers made B move to a different area of the rug. Later, Emma raised her hand to explain to the teacher that B hadn't actually been doing anything wrong. The teacher called on Emma, but when Emma began her explanation, the teacher cut her off, held out her hand and said "Emma, one dollar." (They are in a money unit, and they get fined for bad behavior and other minor infractions.) After the rug time, the teacher called Emma and Anna up to her. She scolded Emma, telling her that her behavior was unacceptable. As Emma was turning away (to go to the bathroom so she could cry in private), the teacher turned to Anna and said "Come here sweetie."
I think it's obvious from that why Emma was so upset. This is a teacher whom Emma respected and loved, and suddenly this teacher is treating Emma as if she was a bad kid. Emma is quickly losing respect for the teacher, and is finding the school day to be painful.
Last night I sent off an angry email to both of her teachers, asking to schedule a meeting. We'll be meeting on Friday afternoon.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
School Projects
Today I helped Emma bring a diorama of the Algerian Desert into school, along with a handwritten book and brochure on the same topic. Is there anything more fun than making a diorama? We had the Atlas Mountains made from construction paper cones, gravel from the driveway, and some green and blue felt to represent the tiny part of Algeria that's arable and the Mediterranean Sea. Some tiny lego houses to represent Algiers, palm trees and a camel finished the display off. Emma guided the project --the only thing I really did was take her to Michaels to pick out stuff like a container, sand, palm trees, etc., and show her the best way to make the paper cones. But what was included and how it was put together were all her own ideas. Even the part of the project that involved gathering the facts about the topic was fun --we learned all kinds of things about the Berbers and the Nomads, about the kangaroo rat and a very scary scorpion.
Sometimes I can't help but compare how excited she gets about all of her school projects to how terribly not excited my students get when I try to assign something hands-on to be done outside of school. I've been assigning posters --I wonder what would happen if I assigned a diorama instead? It would be interesting to create some kind of project that threaded through several lab periods, where the students could bring their materials in, and create the final product in the classroom. I'll have to give it some serious thought.
Sometimes I can't help but compare how excited she gets about all of her school projects to how terribly not excited my students get when I try to assign something hands-on to be done outside of school. I've been assigning posters --I wonder what would happen if I assigned a diorama instead? It would be interesting to create some kind of project that threaded through several lab periods, where the students could bring their materials in, and create the final product in the classroom. I'll have to give it some serious thought.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Game Night
A week ago, Friday, was Emma’s school’s Fun Fair, a horror of a fund raiser that most parents of school age children are familiar with. Fun Fair is loud, busy, and horribly Earth-unfriendly, with kids playing rather stupid games for tokens which they can trade later for plastic junk that will be thrown out in a month. Rob and I hate it for many reasons, but probably the primary reason is that it involves a loud, chaotic, environment. We both find that environment very stressful, and I suppose it’s not a surprise that Emma finds it stressful too. It’s like being at one of those Wisconsin Dells water parks –an environment we all avoid.
This year, we thought that Emma was old enough for us to give her a choice: attending Fun Fair, or taking that evening to have a family game night, where we ordered pizza, got her favorite dessert, and played games together during the hours of the Fun Fair. She chose a family game night.
Then came her week of illness, beginning by staying home from school the day of Fun Fair, and being sick all of the next week (her spring break week). Because she was so sick on that Friday, we put game night off until last night.
We played Yatzee, Scategories (a new game for us, and MUCH harder than I anticipated), Pictionary, Catch-Phrase (the cooking category is the only one Emma is familiar enough with to really participate in) and Clue. All in all it was a very successful evening. So successful we’ve decided we should have a slightly shorter version of game night once a month.
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