Tegu Blocks - A Review

The following review is entirely my own, uninfluenced in anyway by the makers of the product described and reviewed. I received no payment in any form to write said review, I just REALLY like this product!

Here we are, at the edge of a New Year, Christmas just behind us. It's been a truly wonderful week at home, to the point where I don't know how I'm going to feel next Monday when I'm back to work. We've spent much of it relaxing, watching movies, playing in the snow, and, of course, testing out brand new toys (and Mama purging a lot of the old ones). It's been long enough at this point to say there are some favorites amongst the kids and me, as well.

While we certainly don't discriminate much when it comes to toys in our house (we have our fair share of plastic and T.V./movie character driven toys in our home, which the kids adore), I personally have a preference for open-ended toys that essentially demand the kids to be creative and imaginative. This year, my parents gave Michael a set of magnetic blocks from a company called Tegu. They have been an absolute hit. Michael will sit happily for several minutes at a time (almost unheard of for this 2-year-old boy) creating all sorts of different configurations, creatures, and experimenting with the magnets and figuring how what parts of the blocks will stick, what will repel, and what will do nothing at all. Sometimes the magnets can make things challenging and frustrating for him, but in a healthy way. Being two, he doesn't want any help, so he has to do some problem solving. 

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I have enjoyed playing with these blocks, too! I'm not the kind of parent who likes to sit and play with her kids (one, because I just don't want to, but also I don't think it's good for parents to influence or be too involved in their children's play), but I've had fun playing, too. Even our too-cool-for-you seven year old has been caught playing with them. Despite the simplicity of the shapes and relatively few number of blocks (M. received a set of 14), we haven't yet run out of ways to use the blocks. I'm tempted to purchase one of the smallest sets (a packet of 8) just to keep in my purse for when we're out at restaurants or have to sit somewhere and wait for a long period of time. 

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I don't really have any complaints to make regarding these blocks. They price is a bit intimidating (about $35 for the set of 14), however, in a world inundated with cheap plastic toys that barely make it from one Christmas or birthday to the next, these are the kind of well-crafted toys that will last for years and I can imagine they will be played with by grandchildren or passed on to a local library for their children's room. They are also made sustainably in Honduras, with charity and service in mind. With a minimal amount of searching (i.e. please correct me if you know I'm wrong) their claims toward sustainably harvesting their materials and working with communities in Honduras check out. With the quality of the product and also the quality of their service to their factory's community in mind, the cost doesn't bother me much at all. That said, if you're interested in a lower price, Amazon does sell them for a pretty significant price cut, though if/when we buy another set (and I'd like to, for M.'s birthday in February), we'll probably go back to the same small toy store my parents got the first set from. 

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If you have children between the ages 2-5, these are an ideal toy. The set of 14 is the perfect amount for my little guy, but as he gets older I imagine he might benefit from having a few more blocks, so if you have a little one who's closer to 4 or 5, I would consider investing in a larger set so they have more blocks to get creative with. If you're looking for something to spend money or a gift card on for your kiddo or are in desperate search for something different for a birthday gift this coming year, I heartily recommend Tegu Blocks. 

A Review: How to Raise a Wild Child

I've been reading a few books at the same time, so this one took me a bit longer than it would have normally, but it was so well worth it. A few days ago I gave a little glimpse into some of the thoughts How to Raise a Wild Child by Scott D. Sampson had me mulling over and now I am happy to share a few more insights with you.

This book was pretty much perfect. It was part parenting manifesto, part environmentalist love letter to childhood and nature, part practical. It was just the right amount of story, idealism and action plan, and I can't quite get over it. I was really worried that it would be a something that wasn't tangible, just a series of nice ideas with no real implementation possible or a lot of preachy-ness on things I already new about. But it wasn't that at all - instead, through personal stories, solid research, real life examples, and just pure passion, Dr. Scott relayed a series of concrete ideas and solutions that parents and educators can use to instill a love for nature in their children while simultaneously saving our education system, curing the obesity epidemic, and saving our planet. (Yes, he's left me THAT hopeful. The man should be our secretary of education and interior combined.)

Wonderful ideas aside, one of the best things about this book was the structure. Dr. Scott walks the reader through the issues our nation (our world, really) is facing in regards to a vanishing appreciation for and knowledge of nature and then does a wonderful job of linking it to the massive changes that have occurred in the last few decades in childhood and education (none of them that good). He then explores the role of the "nature mentor", a trusted adult who may or may not have a vast experience in the outdoors, who guides children, their own and possibly others, through nature exploration. Dr. Scott address each major developmental stage and looks at how parents and teachers can expand their children and students' natural horizons. And, in the last section of the book, he looks at a couple of other barriers and potential partnerships between children and nature, such as technology and the rewilding movement. He ends with an incredibly moving picture of a potential future, should we, parents and educators follow through with the many ideas and tips delivered in the book.

This is one of those books where I'm going to need to just purchase my own copy. Given some time to let everything sink in, I'll need to go back to consult or to revisit ideas (there are great summaries at the end of each chapter along with specific and concrete tips for raising a wild child), which is similar to how I felt after reading Kim John Payne's book, Simplicity Parenting (another recommended read). I also feel like this needs to be required reading for all educators. Dr. Scott is deft at picking up on the issues plaguing public education and offers real solutions that I know would move us in a tremendously different and better direction. I sincerely feel that working from the direction of the classroom, as well as the home, would be incredibly effective in making a change in how our nation views our environment.

I cannot say enough good things about this book, so I'm going to end with a list of things I truly just loved about the book:

• It was hopeful, encouraging, and non-preachy.
• There was a solid mix of story, example, and practicality - it was easy to get through and a joy to read.
• My heart sung during the sections discussing children's need to play to learn and I am determined to put together an outdoor playscape - I'd love to see this done at our local schools, as well!
• He mentioned Waldorf schools a bunch of times. 
• It was well organized and thoughtful; the concepts felt accessible. 
• I was left with so many ideas and plans it was almost overwhelming, but in a good way!

 Please, please, please pick up this book and read it. It is a must for parents who desire to be worthy living in this beautiful world and to make it worthy of our children. Whether it's something that just puts a fire under your bum to do more or inspires you with ideas you hadn't had before, it's totally worth the read!

School

When I was about eleven years old I watched a documentary on PBS with my parents. It was about asteroids and the possibility of one hitting the earth, causing unparalleled destruction and death. I didn't sleep for days and was totally unable to verbalize my fears. I am sure my parents had no idea the effect the show had on me, otherwise I'm pretty sure they would have removed all screens from our house in order to prevent it from happening again. But they didn't know, and so what has turned into a life long love/hate relationship with indulging in anxiety inducing information has continued with me into adulthood. Except now it's not asteroids (or super volcanoes (thanks for that one, Mr. Wells, 10th grade geography teacher) or black holes or nuclear winters or disease pandemics). Instead, it's school.

If you're friends with me on Facebook, then no doubt you've seen one of the countless early childhood related articles I've posted, most likely about the push for earlier and earlier reading. I've become a bit obsessed with this for a variety of reasons - one, I have two young children, and two, I work with adults who hate reading, and I often feel that there is a pretty compelling reason why adults hate to read, and it usually stems from their own early education. I'm also very much keyed into the subject specifically because of my daughter, E. I'm sure I've mentioned before that she is very open about her dislike of school. This year, by far, has been much, much easier than last year. Last year, all year, nearly every day, there were tears and begging to stay home. This year is a huge improvement, but nary a day goes by where I don't hear, "Do I have to go?" and when she hears, "Yes, you do," I then get, "But I hate school."

Now, let's make a few things clear: E. has a fabulous teacher. She's fun, engaging, and seriously gives a damn. I love her, and, more importantly, E. loves her. Second, E. is good at school, both socially and academically. There are academic subjects she loves (like reading and writing) and she does well in all, and she has a tight little group of friends who she adores playing with. She doesn't get in trouble and sort of just fits the mold of the kind of kid who does well in the typical school environment.

So, all these things listed above are not things I'm worried about. She has a good teacher, is doing well socially and academically, and isn't a more "spirited" child than usual. What worries me is that, despite having all this going for her, she still hates school. Her reasoning is, she says, is that she's bored. And no, not academically bored (and she's not - she is, all things considered, an average student, falling right where she's supposed to), at least not in the traditional sense, but bored because she wants to play, because she wants more time with her friends, because she wants to engage in what she likes.

As I consider this, part of me says, "Well, she can't play and be with her friends all the time, because, you know, life." But then another (angry and loud) part of me says, "What the hell, she's seven, of course she can play and be with her friends all the time!" And then the third part of me says, "Well, perhaps there's a little ground?" And maybe there is? But what?

I don't feel like the school situation is going to improve. Many I've spoken to about this has half-heartedly shrugged and said, "Maybe it will be better next year?" but they already know the truth -  school doesn't get better as we get older. I mean, there are exceptions, but did you ever say to yourself, "Oh, man, seventh grade is waaaaay better than third!" Um, no. I thought not.

All this brings on a wave of anxiety and I feel paralyzed by our lack of choices. I feel sad and angry because I'm unsure of what to do that will help. And I feel guilty because I feel like I'm being too hard on our education system and the good teachers involved. And I can't seem to escape the information. All while under the guise of being "well informed" I indulge in those anxiety inducing articles about children's needs for more time outside, less standardized testing, and fewer outside pressures. It's as though I'm back in front of that PBS documentary and I can't look away or leave the room, even though I'm horribly disturbed. I can't look away now, either, though I fully realize that the damage I imagine that's being incurred is not nearly as catastrophic.

So, what's a mom to do? For now, I tell myself I'll make life at home a sanctuary, pleasant, peaceful, and unstructured. I'll continue to talk positively at school, but not pass judgement when she says she hates it. I'll try to stay tuned in to what's happening at school, acknowledging that she does do well when she's there, that there are no signs of this dislike that she expresses to me. I'll do all this and hope that over time she does feel better about school...or that we find some other way.

Little Doll

Papa M.'s new baby, to be given at Christmas. (Ordered from this Etsy shop - fabulous craftsmanship and customer service.)

 
If I had a dream for the world it would be that every child, girl or boy, should have a doll. There is something exceptionally special about those soft little beings made solely to be loved by a child. There is so much to be learned from caring for someone else, even if that someone is made of cloth or plastic. You find your empathy, caring for a doll, at it's deepest roots, because, no matter how good your imagination is, at your core you still know that even if you don't wrap Dolly up tight or you forget to give him his afternoon snack, Dolly won't freeze and certainly won't go hungry. Yet, it's still done, often with a great sense of urgency and seriousness. What vast wells of love must we doll caregivers have to love so mightily someone who doesn't really need us and will never be able to audibly thank us?

If everyone played with a doll there might be more of that empathy growing around us, rampant like dandelions in the height of spring, left to be plucked up and enjoyed by every passing person, gathered in bunches, worn in hair, handed in clumps to anyone we think might need it. If all little children had their own cloth companion to clutch, to whisper secrets to, to bring on adventures, we might invite the idea of companionship into our children's heads. It is a good thing to have a friend who listens to you and holds your words with silence and honor and trusts you to do the same.

If I could, I would be sure all children, girl or boy, felt no shame in wanting a doll. There is no right gender for a doll, nor is there no right age. There is not one doll that is better than another, whether it is the mama-made-with-love rag doll or the beautifully detailed store-bought doll. All dolls are just what they ought to be for whom they belong, just as we, those who love those dolls, are just as we ought to be for them.

A Perfect Sunday

Every once in a while life hands us a perfect day. This is just a little glimpse of ours.

Breakfast at Melby's in Waterford, ME, waiting for the snow to fly.

Patiently awaiting his muffin. Food is the only thing that keeps this kid in his seat.

Happy, happy, happy!

Just a little bit of snow. We are waiting for more!

Pure joy and energy.

Watching the Pats cream Denver!

T.V. Free...Life

It's been quiet around here lately. Not silent, not even very peaceful, really (How can peacefulness even be achieved with a rapidly moving one year old and adventurous five year old? If you have a secret, please pass it along.). But it's been quiet, nonetheless, and I think it's largely owed the absence of a screen. It's not as though we've gotten rid of our television, computer, or handheld devices - we simply haven't had them on much, particularly with the kids.

We love watching T.V. here. My husband and I have lots and lots of shows we love to watch. My husband is the type to start watching a two and half hour movie in the middle of the afternoon, simply because there isn't anything else he wants to do. There have been times where I felt like E. was getting way more than her fair share of television time, too, and had shows she just absolutely had to watch over and over (we have Netflix, so at least we've been able to avoid haven't specific times where she feels she MUST have the T.V. on). I never imagined that we would become a home where the T.V. is on as little as it is.

Here's how it usually happens: We all get up, have breakfast, clean up, play, go to school, if it's one of those days, play some more, get chores done, go outside, run an errand maybe, (lunch and snacks are thrown in here somewhere), prepare dinner, have dinner (we've been doing this by candlelight a lot lately, which just seems to keep everyone calm and pleasant during the meal). Somewhere around dinner time, either just before or just after, we watch about a half an hour of T.V. Some days we don't watch any at all. And E. is not asking for it, either.

This is a huge contrast to even just a few months ago (we've been slowly building towards this), when E. could easily watch two hours of television, if not more, in a day. And I realize that two hours is considered "okay", but I just couldn't fathom how E. sitting for those two hours, even if she wasn't doing it consecutively, even if she was getting lots of active time beyond, was healthy or "okay."

Why we started: After reading a lot on the effects of television on children's brain growth and the impact it has on their imaginary play and just being overall frustrated with her education, I decided it was time to limit T.V. as much as we possibly could so E. could have as much time to play, explore imaginatively, and discover of what she is capable, as possible.

And with a little one in the home and with T.V. not being recommended for children under two years, I knew I wanted to limit T.V. for his sake, too. This was also a habit I wanted entrenched by the time M. was of T.V. viewing age, because, and this is honestly just my opinion, backed up by nothing buy anecdotal evidence, I feel that boys are far more susceptible to media addiction. The men and boys in my family seem to have a real difficulty in pulling themselves away from the T.V. and their "devices", and I don't want that for M. If little T.V. is a habit in our household now, I think it will continue to be as he gets older.

How we started: I began by saying we would only have T.V. three times a day, around breakfast, around lunch, and around dinner. If E. asked for more, I had to stay pretty steadfast and say no. At first, it really wasn't easy, and there were plenty of times where I just wished I could give in and let her have it, but I didn't, and I'm really proud of that.

After a bit, I started saying no to T.V. in the morning during the school week. My excuse was, and this is partially true, was that it was preventing us from getting out the door on time. E. would have a really hard time stopping the show to go get ready. Eventually we started getting rid of T.V. in the mornings on the weekends, too.

Honestly, after we got rid of morning T.V., the rest came pretty easily. By setting the tone for the day with playing and working together, E. sort of forgot that there was T.V. to watch. Occasionally, she would ask to watch T.V. or a movie, and I could more easily make a judgement call about whether or not it was a good time, depending on how much screen time she'd had previously. Now that we watch T.V. so rarely, when E. asks to watch T.V. or a movie, I don't feel guilty and will happily put something on for her.

Unexpected Benefits: There are a couple of things that have cropped up since we started limiting T.V. One, I've started being able to watch T.V. with E. I've tried planning T.V. time, when we have it, for moments where I'm either in the room with her, prepping dinner or cleaning, or I can actually sit down and watch. It's nice to actually be able to enjoy what's being watched rather than using the T.V. as a babysitter.

Two, my husband, the lover of all things screen, big and small, has given up T.V. for Lent. Seriously. I think he realized if he wanted to watch T.V. while the kids are up, he was going to be banished to the basement. I wonder if perhaps he got a bit lonely down there all by himself while the rest of us are having fun above ground.

At this point we're in maintenance mode and fine-tuning here and there. I'm trying to cut back on my computer/tablet use and I've started keeping track of the days where we go without T.V. completely, just for fun. Do I someday hope we become a T.V. free family, and we can just get rid of the tube? Not really. I don't think T.V. is the root of all evil, I just think we can all be doing something else instead. But I do love my shows (thank goodness Scandal is back on!!) and there is nothing like a good family movie, but for the day to day? If we're mostly to completely free of screen time, I think we'll be all the better for it.

The Day I Kicked My Daughter Out

There's a story I remember hearing a lot as a kid. It usually came up during one of those, "You don't know how easy you've got it," themed talks with my dad or my grandparents.

When my dad was a kid his mom was sick of him running around like a maniac in the house and she told him to go outside. Being a compliant little guy, he did without any fuss, but when he wanted to come back inside, the front door was locked. So was the back door. He knocked, rang the door bell, stood outside the windows and screamed, but inside he was not admitted. If I remained unimpressed by this regaling of childhood trauma character building, then the story ended with my dad crying on the steps...in the rain.

Now, some of you may read this and not quite believe that any mother would do this to her child, particularly with today's parenting sensibilities. But if you ever had the pleasure of knowing my grandmother, then you likely aren't surprised. Some aspects of the story might be exaggerated, but this is also the same woman who used to put my dad on a dog runner when he was a toddler so he could run around outside freely without drowning himself in the cow pound, so the locked door story doesn't seem quite out of character.

I can also sympathize a bit with my grandmother. Wild kid running around with a trail of chaos just behind them? What parent doesn't want boot the little hellion out the door and deadbolt it behind them? And while the circumstances that eventually led me to essentially kick E. out of the house one morning were a bit different than those previously mentioned, my sentiments, when you really get down to it, were right on par with my grandma's.

A little bit of outdoor time does a kid good.

I am not a terribly outdoorsy person. I think a lot of this has to do with being one of those wired people who has a difficult time "just being" (something to work on, right?) and so being outside becomes "boring" to me. But I wasn't always like this. Sure, I wasn't a huge outside person as a kid (I'd like to believe that some people are more inclined towards the outdoors than others), but I didn't have a hard time keeping busy once I was out there. There gardens to dig in, creeks to jump into, things to hunt for (though I was never really sure on what the "things" were), forts to build, and during the winter lots of sledding, snow balling, and snowman and snow fort building. I also had the benefit of living in an extremely kid-friendly neighborhood, and while my parents weren't ones to enforce outdoor time very strictly, I had friends whose parents did, so if I wanted to play with someone, I was going to be outside.

But let's fast forward to our little house here in Maine with my sweet little E. She also isn't naturally inclined to go outside. It's almost always my suggestion, and because I rarely want to go outside myself, I don't usually suggest it. But it's always in the back of my mind that she should be outside. And without the benefit of a gang of neighborhood kids to come drag her out, it's up to me to make sure she goes.

In the past, I've sent her out and gone out, too. In theory, this is a great thing. I certainly need more time outdoors as well. But then I'll get bored, or I'll have to attend to something else, or the baby will begin to fuss, and I'll have to go in. Though E. might be playing happily outside, as soon as I decide I need to be indoors, so does she. So, for a long time, our outdoor time had come in small fits and bursts.

Then something occurred to me. E. plays much better on her own. She's a fantastic independent player and can go on for hours, given the chance. I thought about all the outdoor play I had as a child, and while I remember much of it being with friends, virtually none of it was with my parents (who both mastered the skill of being such boring playmates I learned early on to not even ask). Why should things be so different for E.?

So here we were one morning and I looked outside. It was sunny, sort of, and it was reasonably warm (meaning, there wasn't a major risk of frostbite should you choose to venture out). I thought to myself, "Why isn't E. outside playing?" Instead, she was curled up on the couch for a post-breakfast T.V. show, still in her jammies. As soon as the show was done I asked her to go get some socks on, she was going outside.

Without divulging too much information that could later make myself or my daughter look pretty bad, let's just say there was a bit of a fuss, but eventually, E. was standing out of the porch, bundled in her snow things mumbling something about having a mean mama followed by plans to build an igloo. While very tempted to lock the door behind her, I didn't and I went back to whatever it was I had planned to do that morning. E. popped in a couple of times complaining of cold hands or a cold head (which were quickly remedied with the discovery - finally! - of the warmer fleece mittens and a warm scarf wrapped around the head), but all told she played outside that morning, by herself, for far longer than she usually did.

And so it begins. My goal is to have E. outside for at least a half hour every day. For those who are already outside kind of families, this might seem like a pretty paltry goal, but for our fairly housebound crew, it's a pretty big step in the right direction. All it's taken so far is a lot of patience on my part, "good" weather, and the faith that even though we're fairly short on outside play things, E. has the creativity and grit to figure out what do.

And then maybe she can tell me.

Kindergarten Questions

Okay, so, first of all, here is the required, ADORABLE picture of E. on her first day of Kindergarten:

 

She's pretty darn cute, right?

School has been okay so far. The first couple of days, while drop off was difficult, had gone really well. E. was excited to go, pleased with her new classroom and friends and teacher. But as our week has gone on, the words, "But the day is so long!" have been heard more than once. Yesterday, as we got ready for school, there was a refusal to get dressed, E. hiding under the covers, unwilling to get out.

"I don't want to go! I want to stay home!"

Part of me very much wanted to say, "Okay!" but, of course, I did not. I coaxed her out with promises to visit the playground after school and a favorite supper that night. We got her to school and she went in without a problem for the first time all week.

I left the school building, torn. I knew she was going to be fine. But, I would then say, what about better than fine? I know I have brought this up before, but it's still eating me up inside. I'm not entirely sure I could provide better than fine, I'm not sure if I should try, because although I am at home now, I'm not entirely sure I will be next year. With things so up in the air, it's hard to make plans, and while I don't know for sure her school is the best place she can be, I know it wouldn't be ideal to be changing things around a lot in just a school year or two. Above all, I know she needs consistency.

I want to provide a childhood for my daughter that speaks to the very best parts of her world, and I don't know if that's happening right now (both at home and at school - I'm not going to lay this all at the feet of the public school system). So, for now, E. goes to school. I try to make a healing rhythm at home. We both make new friends and learn new things. And we wait and see and hope that it will be better than fine.