Embracing the Chaos

Posted on by Amy Pybus
8

Here we are: the week before Christmas and I really, honestly, truly feel like my head is going to explode. There is literally not enough time for me to do everything I need to (and those are just the things I can remember I have to do), so it’s just time to start accepting what I can’t. Bye bye, dusting. Clean the boys’ room – out of the question. Tidy up the yard – please. My family will have to accept that it’s a sloppy Christmas.

But this is nothing new, really. As a child care provider, mother of two boys who both play three sports, writer, small business owner, and wife, my life is pretty much constant chaos. Go go go go go it never stops. Needless to say, a lot slips through the cracks. And I spend a lot of time being hard on myself because of all the things I’m failing at.

When my mother calls to see how I’m doing I often start listing everything that’s hanging over my head: “Well Older needs new basketball shoes but we can’t get to the store before his next game because I have a meeting Wednesday night, and I had to go to school and pick up Younger because he was sick, so I didn’t get to write my article at naptime because I was entertaining him so I have to write after they go to bed tonight, and I won’t have time to cook dinner because we have to be at tae kwon do at 6:00 so they’ll have to eat grilled cheese again and the insurance agent called me for the fifth time to schedule the inspection but my phone died when I left it in the car overnight and speaking of which, I still haven’t gotten that rusty spot painted over and winter’s coming.”

And my mother will say, “I’m concerned that this surprises you.”

And I’ll say, “It doesn’t surprise me, it’s just my life, I’m used to it. But I still feel like I have to explain to you why everything’s in a shambles all the time.”

And she says, “You have to learn to embrace the chaos.”

Now that is a powerful sentence.

I had a mental picture of giant arms wrapping around a maelstrom of laundry, children, messy beds, lost shoes, spilled food, and undone paperwork whipping around like snowflakes in a blizzard.

I guess I embrace it in a way, because I have no other choice. I always say the most important task rises to the top, and it gets done, though maybe half-assed. I’ve had to learn how to get what I need done while cooking dinner, spelling words and shouting out multiplication answers for homework help, and trying not to trip over the cat who hasn’t been fed all day.

And that’s annoying. I want a block of quiet time to unclutter my brain. It’s frustrating not being able to sit down with a cup of coffee and plan the day in front of me: here’s what I need to get done, let me pay these bills, oh what a nice article in the paper, look at email/facebook/texts, make sure the appointments are on the calendar, check off done done done on the to-do list.

Ha. I wouldn’t even have a spot to sit down.

And even if I did, I’d hear “Mommy!” within 46 seconds.

But then I remember what Pam said one time when I was running off to a baseball game and had forgotten a plan we’d made. Instead of being mad she just told me, “I miss all that.”

And I knew exactly what she meant. Someday I will be organized and my house will be spotless – because it will be uninhabited by children. So I’m really, honestly going to embrace this chaos and just keep smiling.

In Which I Teach Kids Self-Defense

Posted on by Amy Pybus
1

I’ve had a lot of noise in my head lately about how to protect children, especially after writing two articles for the Gazette on Penn State, and viewing this awesome clip of my friend Lynne Marie speaking at an anti-violence rally.

One of the things that bothered me the most was my son worrying about being left at basketball practice because of “that coach who molested that kid and no one called the police.”

So I’m trying to take my own advice and give my kids some real power over their bodies. This morning we opened the super fun box of Christmas delights so we could start working on some Christmas crafts.

Miss M and Miss G were fighting over a little baggie full of foam Christmas beads. I was busy cleaning up the remnants of the exploded box, so I told them to walk away, use their words, etc. (You know, all the things you yell at them from across the room when you can’t get there fast enough to break it up.)

But it wasn’t working, and Mr. R decided he was going to get in on the action. He went over and started slapping at the two girls who were already slapping at each other. Miss G just took it as a challenge and started slapping both Miss M and Mr. R. But Miss M started to cry.

I pulled them all apart and looked right in Miss M’s eyes. I said, “I want you to practice this with me. ‘NO!!!’” and I put my hand out like stop-in-the-name-of-love. At first she just looked at me with the tears still coming, like, are you yelling at me? What’s going on here?

I said, “I want you to practice your strong voice. When you cry and scream it only makes him want to hit you more. You have to make him want to stop. So, do this. ‘NO!!!’” The other girls started practicing.

“That’s great! Miss C, let me hear your strong voice!” She did it again, and the other girls took a turn.

I said, “Now try to make your voice really low,” because they still sounded like 3-year-old-girl squeaky toys. I showed them again but just sounded like a bear with indigestion. They knew it. “Ha ha Amy you sound like a bear!”

I said, “You’re right, I do. Now growl and say ‘NO!!!’”

We kept it up for a while and laughed at our silly voices. I told them that it was always OK to do this, and that I wanted to see growling bears instead of crying.

Then it was time to make lunch so I put out their drinks and snuck into the kitchen. Right after I disappeared, I finally heard a very loud “NO!!!” from Miss M. I winked at her but didn’t say anything (she likes to work stuff out on her own – you’re not really supposed to know about it).

The kids will sometimes sit at the table and wait while I make lunch. During this time, Mr. R likes to touch Miss G’s cup and make her cry (for a 2-year-old boy, this is a very interesting cause and effect toy). So after about thirty seconds in the kitchen I heard four girls yell “NO!” I glanced through the doorway and saw four stop-sign hands aimed at Mr. R.

It was lovely to see this, but it’s something I have to keep practicing. I’ve taught kids this from the start and like everything else, I have to teach it over and over. Like yesterday when we had to pull out the old “If you’re angry and you know it” song sheet and review what we should do when we’re angry.

But I do hope this will stick with them. I might start using it myself, in fact, when I’m surrounded by children who are hanging on my body or whining for me to do something for them. And most importantly, I have to work it into the conversation while my own boys are home. They’re getting some damn good fighting skills just from wrestling with each other, but I want them to feel that powerful in case they’re ever in a situation where the person is someone who isn’t just playing around.

Miracles in Day Care

Posted on by Amy Pybus
4

Something happened this morning that I couldn’t wait to run over here and write about. The Tornado and Younger Son have developed this really intense friendship lately. We were all sitting with the twins building block towers, and Tornado was knocking them all down. I said, “You can knock yours down but not theirs!” So he did it again.

Younger kept building a tower just for Tornado, and was trying so hard (and patiently) to get him to focus on his. Still Tornado went for the twins, and Younger sadly informed me, “Mommy he won’t stop.” I said, “If he knocks theirs down again he gets a timeout.”

Then I got distracted by Miss S needing something, so I went off to take care of that, and Tornado knocked all the towers down again.

Younger got up and led him over to the timeout spot. I’m conflicted about letting him be in charge of such things, as it’s not my sons’ job to discipline children, and would normally step in and say so. But because of their strong dynamic lately I let it play. Tornado knew it was coming and went along willingly.

I gave him a couple of minutes and then went to get him out of the timeout spot. He immediately walked over to Younger, gave him a hug, and SAID HE WAS SORRY!!

Then he walked over to Miss C, hugged her, and said sorry!

Then he walked over to Miss D and did it again!

My eyes were filling with tears. All these years, all the run-ins we’ve had, all the work we’ve done on sharing and taking turns and understanding other people’s feelings, all the repeating over and over again about how to say you’re sorry – it all came together in one astounding moment. I’m not exaggerating when I say astounding. I couldn’t believe it was happening right before my eyes, and I was so proud to see my kids interacting this way.

And that’s the reward of child care.

I’m not saying he’s got all these beautiful behaviors down pat. In fact I think he only responded so strongly because it was Younger who gave him the timeout. Me, he’s not too concerned about angering. But YOUNGER, his new idol, that’s another story. And he was back to pulling hair two hours later during outdoor play, and that’s not shocking, it’s just to be expected. We’ll keep working on it like we always do, and there will be plenty more timeouts in the future.

But wow, what a great moment this morning.

Blog Posts: Vacation Edition

Posted on by Amy Pybus
4

It’s a holiday week (yeay) which means I won’t get any work done, so I have some quick updates instead.

First, take a look at this excellent and moving blog post by my friend, Jennifer Levi, reflecting on the transgender rights bill that was passed in Massachusetts last week.

Also, I have a new Gazette article taking aim at a pretty easy target: the Penn State debacle. But am I taking a cheap shot, or speaking the truth that no one else can afford to?

And the brandy-new post I just included below, originally featured on OwnaDayCare, which started quite an interesting debate over curriculum standards. I feel they’re too high, and I’m reminded of it every time I attempt a curriculum project (such as the handprint turkeys we made today while one child who doesn’t like projects threw a tantrum, and one really did a good job, and one painted the entire table with glue, and we all got frustrated and/or bored at some point during the course of the activity).

Happy Thanksgiving to all.

Are Curriculum Standards too High?

Posted on by Amy Pybus
Reply

Recently we were offered math tutoring for our 5th grader because he scored low on the MCAS. We asked well, what is his grade in Math class? An A. But he needs tutoring? Well, not in math, but in passing the test.

It took us about ten seconds to decide that our answer was no. We’re not going to make him feel like he’s failing to help the school boost its scores.

This experience reminded me of how gypped I feel that my kids are going to school in the No Child Left Behind era. While some progress is being made in moving away from the rules of this ridiculous act, my sons are still paying the price for politics. The quality of their education is damaged because schools are required to meet test scores and show progress rather than teach whole children.

I know a lot of people whose children started kindergarten this year, and many of them have real concerns about their kids. They’re hearing from teachers that their kids won’t sit still, won’t stop what they’re doing and participate with the group, and the dreaded “she’s not learning her letters.”

I try to tell them that kids who are five years old and in kindergarten aren’t necessarily supposed to be good at these things. But because the quality of education is based on how well they can do on a test, teachers need to be able to assess growth, and their jobs are at stake if they don’t.

Our fabulous, wonderful, amazing kindergarten teacher once told me, “This isn’t kindergarten. I’m teaching a first-grade curriculum.” At the time I was apologizing for bringing in a really messy plaster handprint project that took up most of the afternoon and that she had to teach around while I pulled kids out of her lesson. But she was thrilled that I was making a giant mess.

She said, “This is what kindergarten should be. Fingerpaints, play-doh, getting dirty, fun stuff.” But the amount that she is required to cram into their little heads doesn’t leave any time for the fun stuff. When she had my older son, she was still doing a few special cooking projects throughout the year. I don’t think my younger son ever got to do one just two years later.

These are the reasons why, for many years, I’ve been fighting against curriculum standards in child care. I didn’t like it when the state changed my title from “care provider” to “educator.” I’m far too busy meeting the basic needs of seven kids to spend hours developing a curriculum plan for five different age groups (especially when whatever I plan will entertain them for ten minutes tops).

In day care I need to hold kids in my lap. I need to roll around on the floor with them. I need to sing songs and play imaginary games and make sure they get some fresh air and exercise. I need to feed, clean, change, and nap them. I need to be able to let them do play-doh for an hour and a half if they want (that really happened here, just last week, I swear).

And in school, kids need to be exposed to a variety of experiences and learning styles. They need gym and recess and downtime. They need to write and act out plays. They need to build mobiles and shoe box dioramas and study different cultures by playing their games. They need to be inspired by music and art; in short, they need all the things that are being systematically squeezed out of their education.

So if your child is being criticized for things kids their age are typically not capable of, remember to follow your instincts and know that the school may be demanding more of them than they are ready for. Know that instead of flourishing in a world of astounding new technology, our schools are becoming more draconian. That under the current model, “adequate yearly progress” means that if your child doesn’t double their skills in a six-month period, they and their school are viewed as failing. Then write to your congressman, senator, and anyone else you can think of to rid our system of the absurdity of standardized testing.