This article appeared in the October 2006 issue of Field N Forest Magazine.

A seven-year-old is rarely a veteran of anything.

But my son, Craig, is a veteran angler. He’s tagged along on family fishing trips since age three. He uses the lingo and tells fish tales like a pro, explaining Grandpa’s definition of “cookie jar” to anyone who will listen. “That’s where we fill our limit if the walleye aren’t biting anywhere else.”

On winter weekends he climbs out of bed — canopied with commercial fishnet and set in a camouflaged johnboat — at 5 AM to wake my husband. He wants to get to the shack in time for the crappie bite.

And for Christmas one year, he received a quality fishing reel from Grandpa. While the extended family watched with the ignorance of non-anglers, Craig went ballistic. “It’s a Shimano 2000!!” he screamed. “Dad, that’s even better than yours!!”

On October 31 last year, our family worked desperately to complete a huge remodeling project before the winter cold hit. We felt lucky to get kids fed and to school on time, let alone prepare for trick or treating festivities. Left to his own devices, Craig chose a better, and more appropriate outfit than I could have produced. He would go has his true self —a fishing guide in the making.

He bundled up and disappeared into the garage to dig through a Rubbermaid container of supplies, stored since we started the house project. Then he emerged minutes later with a getup that would have made Babe Winkelman proud. Dad’s mesh-shouldered life jacket fit over the padded flannel jacket, his khaki cap covered his brow, and a tackle box rounded out the outfit.

And where did he collect his candy? Why, in the minnow bucket, of course.

It was our first year in this community, and our Halloween excursion was the best ever. We pulled into the lit driveways of our lakeshore neighbors and rolled down the frosty windows to listen. While trick or treaters came and went from the doorways, anxious to move on to the next stash of candy, Craig stayed and chatted with the residents. He confidently introduced himself, like the future guide I know he’ll be and his gap-toothed grin broadened when they showed obvious approval of his costume. Then I heard a round of giggling as Craig held open his minnow screen for the sweet morsels.

I overheard one homeowner ask him, “So where are the fish biting?” And a grumpy Craig scowled, “I don’t know, all we do is work on the house.” Clearly the man understood this all-too-well and I saw him nod with an expression that he’d been there before.

The winter months bring peace to these parts, and we don’t see many seasonal residents, but I know that in May, our lakeshore fishermen and women will recognize this
miniature angler and welcome him to the folds. It was a great way to join this cabin community. The remodeling project is coming to an end, but I’ll leave the costume assembly to him again this year.

Who knows? Maybe this time he’ll be a brain surgeon.

(First published October 2007.)

Yesterday, I shared an update in our progress, since we quit homeschooling.

While we seem to have made a smooth social and educational transition to public school, I’m finding other transitions to be difficult.

Because of the disastrous start to the school year last fall, I’ve spent a lot of energy making sure the kids had a great start this year. And they have. But I underestimated the impact it would have on our family’s interaction, for me to go to work part-time, and for my kids to begin attending public school.

Last year we had one house, and one career outside the home (I run my home-based company part-time), and we were together all the time in a relaxed environment. Our whole lifestyle revolved around our home.

Now we’re a family with two houses, two careers outside the home, and children with full-time “jobs” at school, followed by social lives and weekly extra-curricular activities. We’ve been jolted from simple to suburban in a matter of months, and our practices haven’t caught up with the major life changes we’ve experienced.

In short, we have little down-time together, and in many ways I feel were losing the cohesive family communication we’re accustomed to.

Time apart significantly cuts down on the sibling squabbling that we battled from time to time last year, but I’m uncomfortable with the way we all seem to be going our own directions. While Dad is thinking about work issues and trying hard to even make it home in time for dinner, I’m attempting to manage the household like I used to, and learn a new job. The kids have their own focus — on friends and sports and what they’re wearing for Halloween.

Our time apart far outweighs our time together, and I’m embarrassed to admit that even when we’re in the same house, we’re often in front of our respective televisions, computers and Playstations.

I know this is a common issue among busy households. I also realize that having less on our plate would simplify the matter, but I can’t think of anything we’re willing to sacrifice. And I know there are many families out there with longer work hours, busier schedules, and more kids, that are making it work.

If your family has ever been out of sync, can you please share what helped you get back into the groove? I’m looking for simple ideas we could integrate into our daily or weekly lives.

HOMESCHOOL EXPERIMENT RESULTS SERIES:
WHY WE STARTED
the JOYS
the STRUGGLES
the FUTURE for us
UPDATE after we Quit Homeschooling
Family out of Sync

Other Homeschooling Experiment milestones:
The Beginning
Week One – Starting with a Frazzle
Five Steps to Drive Yourself off a Cliff
Week Two – Just when I thought I knew what I was doing
Week Three — Let there be CRAFTS!
One-month Review
D’s Review at One Month
Week Five – Stress and frustration
Week Seven – Flip-flopping curriculum
Note to self – Consider having low expectations some weeks
Two-Month Review — Some aha moments
Three-Month Review — Not all peaches and cream
Four-Month Review — Loving ancient history
Five-Month Review — What I underestimated
Six-Month Review – Let’s Just Skip this Month
Seven-Month Review — Curriculum Review
D’s research paper — Save the Earth Saturday series
Tales of a Fourth-Grade Guinea Pig
All posts about the experiment — including WAY-COOL FIELD TRIPS!

(First published October 2008.)

Last week I attended teacher’s convention for two days, a regional conference for educators in our half of the state. My daughter accompanied me for part of the conference, speaking with me at learning sessions. I talked about my book, and she about BookWorm Wednesday — possibly the best illustration of youth empowerment I could ask for.

While we were busy conferencing, my nine-year-old son spent time with Grandma – something she’d claim she doesn’t get to do nearly enough. My mom raised me as a single parent, and she was thankful I was born a girl, since she has always had the feeling she didn’t have much to offer to boys. Knowing this, I wondered what they’d do together – Grandma and her strong Y-chromosome grandson. How would they spend their day?

They spent most of one morning finding deals at garage sales. They had lunch at Old Country Buffet, where he could pick out whatever he wanted to eat. She listened to him give her a report on a book he’d read (book review to publish here next month) and paid him a $2 bill for doing it. They worked together outside on an unseasonably warm fall day, and she hired him to help her spread dirt and clean out her garden.

And each day when I returned to her house after the conference, they were perched at the dining room table playing double-solitaire. They could hardly pull their attention away long enough to say, “Hello.”

My mom is an efficient, productive, hard-working woman. She has been all her life. The time she spent with my son both honored and celebrated the work, while embracing the play as well. And the small, seemingly insignificant moments they spent together helped to build a relationship.

I can’t count the inter-generational lessons he learned during those two days — about frugality, work ethic, and the importance of reading. And he learned these things without her needing to necessarily say anything – it was their actions together that taught the lessons, as well as her genuine interest in listening to everything he had to say.

For “knowing nothing about boys,” it seems to me she’s figured it out. Craig thought the whole visit was awesome. And he told me, “Next time she says she wants me to teach her how to play 500.”

Grandma rocks.

(First published June 2007.)

In planning for our recent trip to Chicago, I knew we needed to prepare for a six-hour marathon in the car – each way. This could mean my having to referee growling children – a prospect that didn’t make me happy.

I tried to leave in the evening, so that they might fall asleep for part of the time, but I knew there would still be plenty of daylight throughout the voyage. So I went online to find printable travel booklets and games. The kids helped me to pick out the ones that looked most interesting to them, and we even printed doubles, if they both wanted the same materials.

It really did the trick. Although Craig slept for much of the trip to Chicago, both were awake the entire way home. In-between our loud family chorus of Carrie Underwood songs, both kids kept busy on travel activities and games through most of Wisconsin.

Here are a few links with great materials:

Mom’s Minivan
Family Education
Family Fun
Enchanted Learning

Here’s the whole Chicago series:
Museum of Science and Industry
Medieval Times Dinner and Tournament
Children’s Museum
Our fancy schmancy room from Hotwire
Millenium Park
Streets and buildings

Check out my Positively Speaking column this month, about helping your kids make healthy choices and staying drug free.

Have a great weekend!

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