Mistakes are really discoveries

Nico's really into making things with paper. Origami, paper cuts, boxes, birds, you name it and it will be in paper form in a matter of minutes. (As I type this Jason is trying to convince Nico to delay the tape-box he's making for me until after dinner. It's like water off a stone with our determined boy.)

A few weeks ago, I taught Nico how to make snowflakes. A thousand snowflakes later and I am prepared to declare him an addict. Now and then though, he makes a mistake. I say mistake only because that is how he perceives them. I am not sure if his idea of perfection is rooted in nature or nurture but I do know that I want him to relinquish the negativity he associates with mistakes and see them for what they really are: learning opportunities. Thomas Edison said regarding his failed lightbulbs "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work".

Mistakes can also be a source of discovery, as Nico found out today. 

A broken snowflake is really just a pair of wings.


And once one person has a pair of wings...



Colette was happy to be a choucho (butterfly) and immediately jumped off the couch with great hopes. Landing with a thud, she said あれ (Japanese for 'huh?'). I love that she believed she could fly.


I also love that when Sebastian return from playing with friends, Nico asked him if he wanted a pair of wings too. 

 I love that Sebastian said of course.

Home Study Days

One of the challenges of raising bilingual kids is helping them to learn in both languages. For the most part we are more concerned with their childhood experience, encouraging exploration and acts of empathy/sympathy. We try to let them have as much free time as possible in the afternoons so they can play with friends or each other. For the most part, they determine how their time is spent, an element that is crucial as they step closer day by day toward adulthood.



I do want them to be scholastically well-equipped to support their journey through this world. So this year while I have been on maternity leave, we have started doing home study days. We sit down twice a week and do some formalized lessons, either with paper worksheets or more tactile materials. As you may remember, I try to incorporate Montessori methods in our home whenever possible. Colette is using the sandpaper letters and metal insets in preparation for writing. She is super alert to finding her "w's" as she refers to the alphabet whenever we are out and about. During the day I do more practical Montessori activities with her like pouring rice and dressing frames to learn how to use buttons and laces.



Nicolai is into Bob books, the movable alphabet, and math. Yep, math. He walks around counting by threes and fours and loves the hundreds board app on the iPad. The boy sits down and writes out addition problems, filling out the entire page with sums.

For Sebastian, I just try to supplement his school work to help him in what his teacher considers to be his weaker areas. I personally abide by the theories of multiple intelligences and various learning styles. I do not think Sebastian's weaker areas are truly weak but since the school wants well-rounded students, I try to help him to feel more confident in areas that he is not so interested in. I also work with him on his English reading which was really slow going until recently when we switched from phonics to sight words. And he is such a rabid reader in Japanese that I do not worry about his abilities.

We are still smoothing out some of the kinks of home study time (and by kinks I mean resolving disputes sparked by having three very determined and different learners at one table) but that is all part of the journey.

"Where do I sign my kid up for the Character Development class?"

Sifting through the internet, I have noticed references again and again to the Idle Parent, a new parenting manual by Tom Hodgkinson. The premise is neatly summarized here , which is good since I have not read the book therefore am a poor reviewer.

Instead it brought to mind two separate incidents today, both involving messes and brothers.

The first happened in my classroom at the start of the preschool lesson. I have six kids in this class and this year one of those kids is the younger brother joining his big brother in English class. Their father typically drops them off in the classroom about twenty minutes early, leaving them to play with the activities I have set up for them regardless if there is an adult around or not. I do my best to prepare the classroom, knowing what they are capable of and trying to give them something to do while the others trickle through the door.

Today these preparations were ignored in favor of the chalkboard. I keep the basket of chalk and eraser out of reach but the eldest brother decided to make it within his reach by using a chair and a box. Treasure obtained, he and his brother began to draw on the board. Nothing wrong with that. Then they proceeded to have an epic chalk war. Smashed up little bits of chalk went everywhere, the chalkboard was covered with scribble and colorful dust. An utter mess. Of course, at this time the other students were arriving so my attention was diverted though even if it hadn't been, I might have allowed the battle just to see how far they would take it. With their classmates around to play with, a ceasefire was immediately in effect and the chalk was forgotten. So, I had to take the beginning of class to enforce a cleanup of the battleground. There were complaints, and a couple of attempts to go AWOL, but after a bit, they did it. And they were really good for the rest of the class.

Fast-forward to this evening where a rice war broke out while dad was in the shower and mom was tending to the baby. What possessed my kids with normally decent table manners to spit rice at each other is beyond me. Maybe they were tired-silly after walking around downtown this evening. Maybe they just saw an opportunity and took it. Either way, it had to be cleaned up. And no one was better fit for the job than the spitters themselves. Now, being close to bedtime, there was a lot of complaining. Too much complaining. Why do I have to pick up so much rice? Do I have to pick up the rice under the sofa/table/chair/rug? But the rice was picked up, bedtime stories were read, and cheeks were kissed goodnight.

Now many people might think that I was too lazy in both cases. Maybe I was, I am unabashedly lazy. Yet I see it more of as a chance to let kids find their boundaries and realize what happens when they go past them. With the first situation, there was a grandmother outside of the glass doors watching me. And if my experience with kids who attend English lessons is correct (a polite way of saying overscheduled and consequently overindulged), the grandmother might have been horrified that I spent so much class time making sure that those boys took responsibility for their actions. Her granddaughter was deposited in my class under the pretense that I would teach her and her classmates English, not help them develop their characters.

I see it differently. I think that for children, there is not this idea of segmented time while you grow. They use every opportunity they can to work on what they intrinsically know needs developing. This does not fit into a schedule book. It is all encompassing and every adult in their life should allow for it.

Also, in the case of the boys, they were listening and following instructions in English and even arguing with me in English. That's pretty authentic.

It is possible that this might be just cultural bristling. And not just with Japanese culture, though it is easy to point at that since it surrounds me. I think that this new style of parenting, these frazzled time manager parents with their kid-business plans, is actually its own culture. It is perhaps even a socio-economic class issue. I don't have the money to send my kid to a dozen different classes, but I do have a lot of time to let them make a mess (or explore their world) and tidy up afterwards.

In the end, it comes down to what the adult in charge has in mind for the adult-to-be. What sort of adulthood should we wish for our kids, one where they are always on time and really good at multi-tasking? Or perhaps one where the kids are self-directed and confident, willing to make a mess and clean it up?