Nothing is better for children, than using their hands to make things or do things. Touching the materials you are working with is a great way to connect with the world.
Carding wool. That's what they had to do before the wool could be spun into thread. Kids can do this at the Village.
Today’s Globe and Mail has a little article called “Mommy, is the oil spill going to kill that bird?” (by Dave McGinn, “Parenting > Tough Questions”). The article describes a scene all parents of young children will be able to relate to. The kids see something in the media and then do what kids do: ask questions. It’s tough, of course when the topic is something upsetting for them. It’s even tougher if the subject is something which is upsetting for us as well.
McGinn quotes Beverley Cathcart-Ross, of Parentingnetwork.ca who points out some basic (but helpful) things like the importance of keeping answers short, and asking children what their questions are before we launch forth on a long speech – you know those speeches, the ones that have more to do with us and our concerns than those of our children!
It’s a timely article and I would like to expand on it a little. There is a real issue for children (and adults) in the disconnect between the real world world they live in, and the world on screens, print, and radio. Screens print and radio do a great service to us by bringing the world into our home, but they can also foster a sense of helplessness because it is very seldom that we can actually do anything about what we read or hear. This is one reason why it’s never a bad idea to limit the exposure of small children to the media. Trying to make sense of the world on TV, while they are still making sense of your immediate surroundings, is too much to ask of the very young. But totally isolating a child from the news is nearly impossible. They are almost certain to see heartbreaking images of oil soaked animals who are struggling to live. Pictures like that are hard to take for any of us.
So what is a parent to do?
Last weekend my eldest daughter graduated from university. She is a midwife now after four grueling years and is now doing the rounds of interviews various clinics for her first real job. It was a wonderful occasion for the whole family and certainly gave me cause to reflect on 24 years (and counting …) of parenting.
Graduation Day at MacMaster University. Yes, your kids will get there one day, too! (I keep telling myself that - whenever I am tempted to worry about my other kids)
It’s easy to feel good when you get to “the other side,” but the truth is it’s not always an easy ride getting there. To parent is to worry! I can think of dozens of things to worry about from the way my youngest behaves at school (it’s improved a lot, but will it stay that way?!?) to my older soon avoidance behaviour when he feels overwhelmed. Will my youngest daughter finish the night school class she needs to get the math credit so she can be accepted in the Ryerson program she has been dreaming of? Will my middle daughter (five kids in total, if you’re trying to keep count) be able to both manage her fledgling music career AND finish her university program (AND get a job that pays afterwards)?
Lots to worry about, if that’s what I want to do. But watching my first child stride across the stage to receive her degree was a valuable reminder for me. Have a little faith. It’s their life, and they will work it out.
The midwifery graduates all wore red shoes so you could easily pick them out at the reception Cute!
How often have I heard that? I just want to make my child’s world a little bigger, but he just wants to stay at home and play Xbox.
Whenever he’s being a homebody, I think about our trip to Nova Scotia last summer when I was watching him at the beach in the water. Other than our friend’s baby daughter, there were no other children there, and yet he spent hours splashing, swimming, and laughing in the waves. Sure there was a lot of “Dad, watch me do this,” and “did you see THAT?” but it was a joy to watch and see how much fun he is able to have when I do get him out of the house.
The youngest Philpott at play in the Nova Scotia surf
My parents, God love ‘em, weren’t always the best advocates for family outings and I have to admit, I was not always a willing participant. Well that’s a lifetime ago now and I’ve had some time to think about it and a few kids of my own to practice on. Here is the distilled wisdom of all that experience:
