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!

Be Like the Woodpecker

The picture is not a very good one, I know, but trust me when I tell you that the little black blob hanging off the birch towards the center of the photo is a woodpecker. As I was walking this morning I heard the telltale thwack-crack that is a woodpecker working his way through the trunk of a tree. It was much slower than I would usually hear, so at first I didn't realize what it was. On my way back around though, about a half hour later, in a contemplative sort of mood, I paused and listened once more. When I turned and looked up into the trees I saw this fellow, and though the picture doesn't show it, he was big! Of course, most of the birds we see around our house are the smaller types, mostly chickadees, so anything much larger than a tennis ball seems huge to me.

I watched him for a bit, intrigued by the difference in his method this season compared to warmer times. Rather than his jackhammer beak riveting its way into the tree, his progress was slow and steady, the tree frozen, making it hard to get to its life-giving innards. I don't know why, but watching him made me smile. Perhaps that it was life still goes on, though much slower, during this time of year, even if it sometimes feels like everything had paused. Even with the frightening cold we've had these last few weeks, the outside animals still live and work. 

I think, also, I saw something I needed to see. He worked with such determination, though the conditions were far from perfect and the results would likely not be what he truly wanted. I, too, often find myself in imperfect conditions that produce results that were not what I had originally desired. I will thrust myself forward, over and over, not in that quick, efficient pace, but slowly and deliberately, hoping each time I move myself against the thing I am working to break open, I will reach the prize within. 

The woodpecker was working because if he does not, he will starve. My work, the work of fulling my life with good and nurturing things, is not one that, in the biological sense, will kill me if left neglected. But should I stop and not take what little bits I can get as I break away the bark of life's challenges, certainly my soul will shrivel to nothing.

Though I don't always feel the strength or the motivation to dig into the things that give me the most nourishment, to get at the most filling and good stuff, I think I must remember that I must.

Note: Since I wrote this a woodpecker has since decided to make itself at home underneath one of the eves of our house. Perhaps he sensed our kinship?

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.

Weekend Lovin'

I've often said to folks, "When my husband's gone, he's gone." Meaning, he works an hour away at a job that requires him to work twelve hour shifts doing some really tough stuff. When his days off turn up during the summer we're pretty relieved to have him home and are ready to go out and have some fun. Unfortunately, our kind of summer fun takes us to the great outdoors, and up until this month, the great outdoors has been pretty soggy in these parts, especially, it had seemed, on my poor husband's days off.

But finally, finally we've had some truly fabulous weather, and every day he had off the weekend we found ourselves out doing something just so nice.

Friday:

Out on "grandma and grandpa's lake" with my parents. The sweet sunshine, delicious food, jumps into the lake, and looking at beautiful lakeside homes. 

Saturday:

We were up at 4 o'clock Saturday morning to drive to Lewiston to watch the morning launch for the balloons at the annual Great Falls Balloon Festival. It was a beautiful morning that was followed by a yummy breakfast at a local diner. E. had a wonderful time and was very happy to finally have a chance to wear her balloon outfit. 

Sunday:

It seemed fitting that the week of our wedding anniversary my husband wanted to take the kids and I up to Frenchman's Hole in Newry, one of the places he took me when we were first dating. With a little grilling and some swimming later into the afternoon, it was a very pleasant and relaxing end to a really perfect summer weekend.

Fresh Air

I cracked the bedroom window the night before last, the cool breeze felt good in our stuffy bedroom. When I woke up the next morning, the babe mewling from the co-sleeper and the girl sprawling across two-thirds of the bed (my husband had long since left for work), I could hear something I hadn't heard for a long time, creeping in through the open window. Birds. Chirping. Life. While I blearily sat up in bed and got ready to nurse the babe, I knew today we would need to be outside.

Source

Early spring in Maine can be unforgiving. The calendar may say April, but our yard is still mostly covered in snow. And that westerly breeze that knocked out our power the other night? It gives quite the chill! But then you also have days like today, when you know there will come a day when the grass will be green again, the lakes will be free of ice, and coats will officially be able to be packed away until next fall (which I will fully embrace after a hot summer). It's these days you want to snatch up with the kids in tow, because, who knows, you might be snowed in a day or two later!

We couldn't get out right way - there was school to get to, fabric (those play silks I mentioned) to trim, and cloth diapers to fold. But as soon as my car pulled into the driveway (windows all rolled down), we hopped out, busted out the bike and the Moby and walked (well, the girl rode her bike).

We walked and rode two miles!

It felt amazing to be outside without the burden of heavy winter coats, have the sun warm our faces, and to just move our bodies. I felt the dust of winter just fall off with each step. It also helps that we live in a naturally beautiful area with views of the hills around us. And we all came home, baby, girl, and mama feeling refreshed and with new, happier dispositions. It's amazing what a little movement will do for a kid (even a baby) and her attitude.

What have you done to shake off winter lately?

P.S. I just discovered this wicked cool blog this morning that had some really fun movement/dance activities for kids. We have a rainy day coming up and I'll have to give them a try!