Letter to my Children: Adulting vs Parenting Hat

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Letter to my Children: Adulting vs Parenting Hat

Dearest Beloveds,

I switch hats throughout the day from Adulting Corinna to Parenting Corinna and vis-a-versa. Adulting Corinna pays attention and gives time to MY wants, desires, thoughts, responsibilities, and curiosities.

Parenting Corinna pays attention and gives time to YOUR wants, desires, thoughts, responsibilities, and curiosities.

I have found during my almost 10 years as a hat switcher, that life goes more smoothly when I wear only one hat when I am with you two - because, as you may have noticed, your mother only has one head.

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Letter to my children: Hay jumping

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Letter to my children: Hay jumping

Dearest Beloveds,

Recently Dragon and I were driving along some country road and admiring a surfeit of round hay bales. Many acres of fields were shorn yet all of the bales were concentrated on one field.

“Momma! Look how close those hay bales are! If they were closer I could jump between them.”

“Yes, you certainly could, that is very true. Would you take a running leap or try to bounce like a bunny?”

“Bounce like a bunny.”

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Homeschool Learnings: Waiting for your Brain to Grow

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Homeschool Learnings: Waiting for your Brain to Grow

Dearest Dragon, you and I are now fully ensconced in the first grade curricula. And, just like your sister, we are having conversations like this.

“This is too hard!”

“I know my love, but they only way to get better at this is to practice, just four more words then we can run around the house for five minutes before math.”

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Letter to my children: Motivation, Rewards, why Zingermans (Visioning) Rocks

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Letter to my children: Motivation, Rewards, why Zingermans (Visioning) Rocks

Dearest Beloveds,

I recently ran across an interview with Dr. Tony Nader and Daniel Pink about motivations and rewards. Your Momma was cringing as I listened to their discussion because it dawned on me that all day long I am offering you contingent rewards. As Pink calls them, an “if then” reward.

“If you don’t eat your breakfast we can’t go to camp.”

“If you don’t set the table, I will dock you one strike. As you know, after three strikes you won’t get your allowance.”

“If you don’t do you math lesson, we can’t read stories.”

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Letter to my children: The Teachings of the School Bus

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Letter to my children: The Teachings of the School Bus

Dearest Beloveds,

The school bus - both incredibly useful and also a huge teaching tool. Who knew?

When we have time, it is joy to meander down the road, looking at the autumn olives and the late blooming iris (poor thing, right before the frost hits). We hold hands. I sing Waltzing Matilda…

“Down came the squatter, mounted on his thoroughbred. Up came the trouperrrrsssss!” I hold the note and look over at the two of you, - perhaps I give your hands a squeeze.

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Homesteading Middles: All Hail Green Goats!

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Homesteading Middles: All Hail Green Goats!

Two years ago we cut down trees to have a view of the Hudson Valley for our Tentrr site. As I mentioned recently, nature is all about growth.

Faced with a steep rocky hill we called in the local goat grazing team - not realizing that they are the goat grazing team for the entire East Coast. Green Goats Rhinebeck is family operation that has been doing good work for 17 years.

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Letter to Bean: The Self-Driven Child and Homework

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Letter to Bean: The Self-Driven Child and Homework

Dearest Bean,

As the life popsicle of Meme’s brain slowly melts - certain calcified memories persevere. They form the popsicle stick in this metaphor.

One of Meme’s popsicle stick memories is about not being offered the choice to become a serious pianist. Apparently, Meme’s parents were told that Meme had sufficient innate piano ability to become a virtuoso if given the proper instruction. Meme’s parents declined, deciding they wanted her to have a “normal childhood” (whatever the hell that means). Meme did not know this opportunity existed until many many years later.

Even now, she can no longer remember the name of her sister, where she was born, what day it is, but the piano memory? Sharp and intact. “Corinna, I could have been a concert pianist! I would have loved that!! I could have been so good. I love music!”

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Homesteading Middles: Juicing Apples

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Homesteading Middles: Juicing Apples

“It’s crazy! They take out the pits! They take out the seeds! It is delicious! It is so good!” Dragon sipped fresh juice as the machine whirred on its next batch.

“Tell me why you like making apple juice.”

“It’s fun watching.” Dragon put down his glass and stood on a stool assuming his observing stance - hands on knees, all the better to peer into the moving parts of the juicing machine.

“Because it is fun looking at this.” Bean pointed to the extruding pulp/skin/seeds from the rotating arm. She pushed the plunger down. “I like doing this.”

“I like the watching the stuff - the detritus coming out.”

English Major Momma point!

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Letter to Dragon: "My father broke my arm"

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“Look at you. That is some cast. How did that happen?”

Dragon, loud and clear, “My father broke my arm.”

Wait what!? Dragon!

The parking attendant’s face froze. I interjected quickly. “Dragon, your father did not break your arm.”

Indignation retorted loudly, “yes, he did! He hit it with a ball!”

Arrgggghhh

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Encomium to the Public Library

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Encomium to the Public Library

“Momma, I love the smell of the library.”

“Me too, my love, me too.”

Michelle told us as we checked out, “Corinna, I think this might be the most books you have ever checked out at once.”

Dragon pipes up, “both of our bags are bursting!”

56 books does seem like a lot of books for a woman who avoided public libraries for years.

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