Adding It Up

Adding two numbers to arrive at the sum of ten.  

When researching important math foundation skills I learned that the more automatic this is, the better, and surprisingly many students are still actually counting each time (albeit quickly) rather than it being an automatic response.  Aside from our time-telling, this first full week was about playing various games to automatize this skill.  We had a quiz that they took daily and they timed themselves -- each subsequent day trying to beat, not each other, but their own best time.  The Sister created a fishing game and a bingo game -- both with the premise of a number being presented, e.g. 6, and their marker/answer being the other number -- 4 -- needed to reach ten.  Today at the Central Park zoo the kids made up word problems (e.g. "There were 2 Red Pandas.  The zookeeper got 8 more.  Now there are 10 Red Pandas.").  I won't say that by this point we were beating a dead horse because we haven't moved on to subtraction yet... ("There were ten horses...").  Actually, I can't say it because I saw The Girl's face crumble the first time she ever heard that phrase.  No matter how many times I said, "It's just a phrase..." She kept rebutting with, "It doesn't matter.  Why would anybody say something so mean?"  Dead horse beatings aside, I do feel confident that we can start incorporating other concepts into our math regime.

I'm happy to report that their first essay has come off well.  They wrote about their experience with the exotic birds at Bryant Park, and while there was some grumbling about the revision process ("What do you mean I have to write it again?"), they were both proud of their finished product.  

Today after the running club, my sister took the kiddos to the playground while I went and did some further shuffling about by myself.  I find these times critical to clear my mind.  Sometimes I'm able to chat with my older sister on the phone (she accepts the wheezing and gasping and provides creative insight and constant support), and other times I just zone out with or without music.  Today, listening to Jens Lekman, I was trying to sort out what the magic formula might be... What ingredients, what balance did I need to strike for my two little pupils to be successful.  I fully understand that 3 and 7 add up to the same solid, holistic ten as 4 and 6.  My concern is just making sure that I'm not offering a 5 and 6 and leaving them standing with a gangly 11... Or worse, 5 and 4 and coming up short.  Knowing that our plan is to go back on the grid in a year does keep me looking over my shoulder in a way that long-term home schooling families don't.  Those families would probably say something lovely and idealistic to me like, "But you're not providing the numbers -- you just hand them the tools and they unearth their own numbers..."  That's super nice, but come next September, my kids can't answer: "rainbow" when their teacher asks what 5 plus 5 equals.  

So here was my epiphany.  During the birth-preparation class I took before my first-born we had to play a little game with some cards on our very last night (after 8 awkward/lame weeks).  On each side of the card there were two different options (your own doctor/doctor on-call; natural/epidural; nursing/formula; healthy/not healthy; etc.) and we had to flip the cards over according to our preferences -- and believe me, the types that take those classes have some preferences.  Part two of the game was eliminating cards... if we had to take one choice off the table, what one could we give up?  One by one we eliminated cards until we were all left with a single card.  Despite the super strong conflicting opinions that had caused fire to flare in eyes, and arms to cross over bulges every mama was left with the same card -- "healthy." Today as I jogged I realized that nine years later the answer is the same... I can look at my options, and make my best choices, but I need to remember that the automatic answer needs to be: whatever helps us be emotionally healthy.  

Cross my heart: as I headed home thinking focus more on a creating a positive environment than an academic powerhouse I received my zen moment of confirmation.  I looked in the eyes of a passing largish, white tousled-haired dog and he smiled at me.  Hand to heaven.  

Organizing the Random

Yes, hellpigs101 got locked last night/this morning.  Apparently the ol' blog had to be read by a Blogger employee and deemed not-spam after their computers flagged my content and links for being too random.  Welcome to my brain.  

On the school front, we are still in the finding-out stage.  Figuring out what will work, what won't work, and what turns me into a muttering, swirly-eyed mess of a mom.  

For example, we thought we had our schedule for swimming figured out, but ten minutes earlier than expected Judd the Red Chicken started climbing out of the pool, promptly followed by the dripping and distracted instructor (his aunt).  As The Sister was hustling towards her towel, I realized that the lifeguards had just switched, and the new one was an attractive young lad...  Fine.  We have to adjust pool-time if I want the swim coach to feel focused and confident.  

We're also figuring out which things should be broken into smaller chunks so they are available to fill in gaps, and which things can be put into bigger chunks so we can pack up supplies and work somewhere other than the apartment.  It's all a learning process; there is more than one right way to do all this; there are a lot of options and resources.  

Today I was volunteering for our church -- something I do twice a month -- so The Sister managed some things:

1.  Classifying/organizing information... On Tuesday we rode the carousel at Bryant Park and on Wednesday during a play date we rode the carousel in Central Park.  We aren't usually so carousel-oriented, but it was ready-made material for Venn diagramming (note: an interesting observation: some of the carousel animals at Bryant Park wear clothes... or "close" -- we are starting spelling soon... despite the fact that one of my charming children screamed at me yesterday that I'm not "respectful of the fact that" he has his "own way of spelling things").  

2.  Getting them thinking about Spanish... They watched a Scooby-Doo episode in espanol and then created little scenes and labeled the nouns.  They then looked up the nouns on Google translate, listened to the pronunciation, and added the Spanish labels.

3.  They stopped by the NYCHEA not-back-to-school picnic and came home with some awesome books from the swap (we didn't actually swap... we just snatched).  NYCHEA is a deep and wide resource.  You pay $36/year and every morning you get an email compilation of classes, social opportunities, book suggestions, etc. from other families that are home schooling.  The families that participate appear to be dedicated and smart and into sharing -- it's quite inspiring (if you're into that whole humans-should-be-cool thing).  What I've been most impressed with is how roomy the group is.  Seems to be ample space for different perspectives/philosophies.  Because again -- there are so many ways to do this.  

Stumbling Along

"Okay, turn on your shoe."  

Saying that has yet to get old for me.  I only wish it would stay in the elegant realm of 007, or even come to a comfortable stop at  Maxwell Smart, but every stinking time my brain carries it right on through to Inspector Gadget.  Inevitably that addictive tune irritates me until I have to get some relief by opening my mouth and irritating the rest of the family.  That's what families are all about.  

We have started our running club.  We head over to the park, The Sister turns on her Nike+ system (she has a chip under the insole of her shoe that's linked with her iPhone) to measure our distance, and we run.  The Sister was on the track and cross country teams for the past couple of years, so she is good about motivating the kids, reminding them to keep their elbows in and their hands loose... She has taught them about finding a pace that can be maintained rather than shooting off and then wanting to walk too early.  My role is to gasp and pant and stumble -- and I do it well -- in order to make them all feel better about themselves (learning a sport really is about building self-esteem).  

We have a little chart that has a marathon -- 26.2 miles -- broken into quarter mile cells.  After each quarter mile run they get to color a cell, working towards "finishing a marathon" and having a celebration.  

The name of the running club was actually more drama than a Glee episode.  "Brainstorm and come to a consensus," is a phrase that I won't say again without proper preparation (e.g. a candy bar stashed in my bedroom closet with enough space cleared on the floor for me to go fetal after the last sweet bite is gone...)

I've gone back and forth about whether or not to run as a pack, or let them go as fast or slow as they want with individual charts.  For now I've decided that this is a team activity.  We run as a family to both encourage and annoy each other.  Because that's what families do, and dammit, we're all going to like it.  

Another Morning Out on the Town

Apparently Bryant Park used to be quite the hell-hole (or as Christopher Guest would say: 'ell-'ole).  Its history is a cycle of loveliness, derelictness, a great effort, loveliness, derelictness, a great effort... Currently it's a pretty little Frenchified park.  Who knows if it's done cycling -- I know that the peace and safety that is NYC today is relatively new and not guaranteed to last.  Our friends that are natives share stories that teach us to be grateful that we are living in the city at a time when it's so easy.  We are mindful that it can shift at any time.  

This morning we subwayed ourselves down to Bryant Park to fulfill our destiny with some exotic birds.  Arriving early, we went to the New York Public Library, which is adjacent to the park.  The free exhibits have always been worth our time.  The one currently going on is: 

And it is awesome.  What's brilliant about the library exhibitions is that they are manageable -- they make you think -- but they don't wear you out.  Personally, I had never considered how or why "lunch" was constructed (to provide nutrition, but not take too long, so workers could get back to work... thus the larger midday meal was pushed out to later (i.e. not midday), so as not to impact working hours).  The best part by far was the actual Automat.  Our family is nuts about Automats (the kids made one this summer with cardboard boxes and coordinating tickets that had to be inserted before our food was handed out... Yeah, yeah, your kid made an Automat once, too... probably out of recycled beet stems and sculpted potato peels... and you were able to put the entire thing in your compost heap before doing your nightly meditation... Rest assured I don't think my offspring are exceptional -- kids do brilliant stuff...and highly irritating stuff... I mentioned that only to help explain why there was more sanctified awe walking towards that wall of cubbies than there has EVER been walking into church).  NYC has given humanity many beautiful things, and the Automat (invented here in 1912) is not too far down the list... 

We always say our obligatory, "Hello" to the real Pooh and friends... though we disapprove of the new display AND we highly disapprove of the random benecklaced-Otter that they've added to the collection.  Apparently Lottie was in the 2009 "authorized sequel."  I don't care if A.A. Milne himself came back from the dead and said he fancied Lottie -- she, and her cheap string of pearls, should not be in the same glass case as the originals.  (I know.  I need to get a job/life.)  

After trash-talking Lottie ("So she's like naked, except for a necklace?") we moved on to Bryant Park, where the kids rode Le Carrousel ($2/ride):

But all of this was just because, our purpose behind the journey was to see the birds.  Through the summer (until September 25th) Arcadia Bird Sanctuary has brought exotic birds on Tuesdays at 11:30.  Every time we planned on going it rained -- so today was our day.

With clipboards in hands The Boy and The Girl approached the animal handler and scribbled notes furiously (in Australia cockatoos are as prevalent as crows are here; green to match Amazon forest; seven types of feathers; etc...).  The lady was super, super nice and not only answered every question, but gave the kids her email address in case they think of more questions.  After they set their clipboards aside they got to hold the green-cheeked-something-or-other... And after holding it, the handler put it on each of their heads.  For my kids it doesn't get much better than that.  

If somehow we escape the clutches of the West Nile virus, we will most likely get the Avian Flu... Until the symptoms present themselves, we will continue on... knowing that NYC is a place where something very sad happened eleven years ago, but before then it was a place where pies came out of the wall, and since then it's been a place where South American birds walk on kids' heads... 

On TODAY

I cried today standing by the barricade of the TODAY show, and it wasn't because of the horrible banter, the depressing "news" stories, or the fact that we were up at 5:30am.  More about that in moment... 

First: remember that one of the reasons for deciding to do the scheme was to have the time to do more with family? Sunday was my grandma's birthday.  Before we called her the kiddos (that is what she called us when we were little... she also called urinating going "tinkle"... too far with the personal details?) to wish her a happy one we looked up what happened in 1928.  We found out it was the year Mickey Mouse was created, the iron lung was invented, and penicillin was discovered.  Also, you could get an amazing dress and/or a gorgeous toy for under $5.  No wonder Walmart makes sense to the woman -- a little bit of everything and super cheap.  

As we wrapped up on the phone yesterday we told her to be sure to pay attention when she watched the TODAY show today (a more skilled writer would have figured out how to maneuver those two todays better... did I mention I've been up since 5:30?).  She watches it every morning, but we didn't want this to be the one that she missed.

See, we couldn't fly across the country to smile and wave our birthday cheers, and she doesn't have a computer to enable video-chatting, but we have this conduit from NYC to her front room in Nevada... 

We had a lot of fun making signs:

Mine was deemed the most boring, yet vital for our group of posters -- to provide the foundation for the others... I'm going to refrain from excessive commentary on how that often sums up being a mom.

The Sister got the sassy poster -- referencing a funny story we like to tease Grandma about.

Judd the Red Chicken was coming up with all sorts of slogans -- I don't think PR is in his future (we kept talking about audience awareness, i.e. what would Grandma like).  I liked this one... though there was one about Sasquatch that was funny... but not really sensical.  

The Girl shares her middle name and her fervent love of animals with her great grandma.

Back to our main story.  Just after 6am we arrived and were directed to the line.  I'll say this, having recently played the getting-to-Central-Park-at-6am-and-camping-next-to-a-ranting-quasi-homeless-man/scalper-for-seven-hours-until-you-get-your-free-Shakespeare-tickets game this summer, the TODAY lineup is a snap.  I had a backpack full of games and blankets, the kids had their books and clipboards, but we only had to wait about half an hour before we got to move into position around the barricades.  Here's the thing: the driver of the Chock Full O' Nuts truck who was scattering his wisdom to those in line really did sound like he knew what he was talking about: don't bunch up -- go ahead and spread around the perimeter of the barricades.  Dude was Chock Full O' Crap.  If you ever go park yourself at the South East corner of the rectangle -- that is where viewers watching at home will actually be able to see you for longer than like .5 second.  It took us an hour to realize that Grandma's watching efforts would be in vain, and our 5:30 wake-up and vast amount of Sharpie ink was not going to be rewarded.  We needed to take action.  So we did.

During Tony Danza's interview I handed The Sister my sign because it was the most Grandma-specific and she went and pushed herself into the crowd outside the studio window.  I watched the monitor and signalled to her to go left or right or up or down.  I'm happy to report that Grandma's initials and our declaration of love was prominently displayed for the last half of the interview.  Now who's the boss? 

I then asked a crew member where the next outside shot was going to come from and he was sure it was not far from where we were (a.k.a. the only place that had NOT been in a shot up to this point), so we nestled in a bit further down.  This is where we met three ladies -- overly middle-aged and obviously Midwestern.  Two of them didn't give a rip about the show (amen, sisters), but the third, we learned, had talked of nothing else since they started planning their girls' trip.  So there we waited with more anticipation than you would believe: the three gals, myself, my kids, and my sister.  Finally the camera man took pity on us and swept past at the speed of light.  

"Did you see me?  You saw me."  Gal #3, the one standing next to me was on the phone with her daughter.  She pushed the button to end the call, looked up at her girlfriends and started to cry.  I started to cry.  They put their arms around her (I restrained myself -- just barely -- seriously), as she said, "I've watched this show for so many years and always wanted to come.  Now I have.  I was actually on the show."
Gal #1: "It was in your bucket list!  You did it."
Gal #2: "We all have our dreams."  

If dreaming of Al Roaker is your thing, I can say that he shook hands with all of us -- even The Boy -- who offered his left hand, palm facing the ground as though he was presenting it to be kissed.  We teased him about it, and when I explained that normal protocol is extending your right hand with the palm vertical rather than horizontal he said, "Huh.  I never knew there was a specific way to shake hands."  What do they teach these kids at school?  Maybe we were punchy, but boy did we laugh.

We laughed; I cried.  I harshly judged the knees of the woman who took Ann Curry's spot.  Overall a worthwhile experience.  The Girl summed it up well: "It was fun making the signs, and I hope Grandma felt special.  The thing they showed on TV of the bison chasing the kid was funny, but otherwise it was kind of boring standing there."  To that I will just add that it feels awesome to witness somebody attain a dream.  May we all be able to do so in such a sweet and genuine way during the course of our lives.  And may we all have grandkids and great-grandkids that love us.  Maybe those two things will be synonymous.  

We walked home, stopping at the playground for a bit as we passed through the park.  

I would be omitting an important part of this year's adventure if I didn't mention that this afternoon -- day three of the scheme -- after math and before the book report explanation -- there was a major tantrum.  I'm going to blame my behavior on my exhaustion.  

Signing off.