Reading: " just another screen"

Yemaya was obsessed with this book for a while

When Eale and I were child-free and imagining our future together we thought parenting would be like living in a book club (cue laugh track). We love reading. So it seems only fitting that as yet none of our children have been bitten by the book-love bug.

This is cause for most of my homeschooling anxiety. I worry about my children's future, I worry about what others will think, I worry about all the wonderful moments and stories my children are missing out on having because they can't yet read. Eale, on the other hand, is a faith-keeper. He does not sweat this stuff. He knows how wonderful reading will be when the kids come to it, but he is happier than I to let them come to it in their own time.

Every now and again I get all up in my head about having an eight year old who doesn't read. I remember devouring chapter books of The Sweet Valley nature at her age. I wonder how much of my concern is truly for Gaia, and how much is about my own preconceived notions of parenting and education and what "successful" and "smart" look like. When these moments came in the past: I sat with G and coaxed her into reading and it was not fun. I've handed the reins over to Eale and let him be the parent she reads with. We both agree that Gaia can read when she wants to, but she rarely wants to. If she doesn't want to read and you sit down and ask her to, she tunes out...she magically unlearns everything she knows about the alphabet and phonetics. It's reached the point where Eale and I feel like we're being punked.

Friends have reassured us with tales of their own children who were late to reading. Other friends reassure us that eight isn't that old or far behind, and speak of Steiner and Waldorf. But what really made me relinquish my reading paranoia was what a friend referred to as his "controversial" opinion that "reading can be just another screen."

My mind melted at the theory that books are not the holiest of holy items we hippy-esque parents imagine them to be. Books could simply be another product in the endless pile of stuff sold to us as childhood entertainment. Think about it...I remember getting in trouble with family for having my nose in a book and being anti-social, the same way adults spin out about kids and their screen time these days.

The friend who theorised that books are like screens went on to say that screens and reading share the potential to "steal childhood". Why do we worry about how much screen time our children are having? Screen time is not time in nature like climbing trees, it's not active like running around, it's not social in the way that playing with toys with friends is social. With their minds lost to the screens children can become disengaged from the world around them and it has the potential to become an addictive behaviour: favouring screens over "real life". Literally all of these criticisms can be applied to reading. In fact, both books and screens can facilitate socialisation and be used as educational tools, but for some reason many of us put books on a pedestal as the superior tool when there are many more talents the screens possess. 

There is another way that reading can "steal childhood": and that is through the pressure placed on kids to learn to read. When my friend made his controversial comment it made me think about the times I'd called Gaia to sit with me and a book. Calling her out of the moment to sit and read was extinguishing whatever learning she had deemed important. I was calling her away from her childhood.

Unschoolers suggest that you don't need to teach a child to read. Regardless of theory, our expert experience in educating Gaia has shown us that this is not a method that works for her. Thus, we need to stop. We were drawn to homeschooling because we wanted our children to learn the necessities at their own pace, when they felt ready. But loving the theory and living the reality are two different things. The theory appealed because a blissful cloud of delusion made pre-mother me think that my kids would value the things I value and learn the things I thought were important when I felt was age-appropriate. Turns out, my children are unique individuals!

The children will learn to read when they need to (that is, when they have a strong desire to do so). How do children learn to talk and walk? We model the behaviour, we immerse them in a culture of walking and talking, and they pick it up themselves to be part of our world. Our children want to connect with us: they want to talk with us, walk like us, and having us read books aloud to them is something else they like. We also allow them to play with books. They like to pretend to read thick reference books (Gaia cannot drag herself away from the reference section of the library, even though she has not yet mastered the art of reading children's books herself). They like to touch books, build with them, use them in games as stepping stones, plates and toy beds, to name a few. They see Eale and I reading, we make regular trips to the library, borrow books, have family reading nights and particular series we read together like The Magic Faraway Tree. We discuss books. The girls know I'm writing my own book and Gaia often dictates her own stories to me as scribe. Gaia also has a pen pal. My bet is, that in a reading rich environment such as this: chances are our children will be fluent readers one day.

One of my favourite photos. 2008: Eale reading to baby Gaia

 Further reading on reading

Children teach themselves to read

Learning to read naturally 

Learning to read the Waldorf way

Myth Busting: How reading is taught in a Waldorf school

I'm Unschooled, yes I can read

Autism & Unschooling: when Someone Else didn't check themself...

When it began to dawn on me that our daughter is not "just a little quirky" I felt guilty for not realising sooner than she may be on the autism spectrum. I shared this shame with my fully-grown autistic friend and she said: "You didn't realise because you were coping so well! You've always been really good at meeting your children where they're at." For that: I credit our school free lives. Unschooling means that I never expected my child to meet developmental milestones at the same time as her peers. Unschooling helps me be flexible and accommodating in negotiating how we spend our days and it gives my daughter more control over her life than if she were made to fit herself into a schooling schedule. Learning that she is autistic has not changed our education plans, but this was a concern for Someone Else.

Unschooling is working really well for each of our children. Our daughter doesn't need school to become a functioning adult, or to learn how to set and achieve goals. But, even if you put those things aside, we would not consider school for our autistic daughter because her anxiety and communication issues would make it incredibly difficult for her to participate in traditional schooling.

Homeschoolers know that if ever they express dissatisfaction with any aspect of their daily lives they will be met with "send the kids to school." So I should not have been surprised that Someone Else felt school would solve this autism problem too. When I made it clear school was not an option that's when it kicked off:
"Oh my heart! I feel so sad for her." Someone Else stated with melodrama. "What makes you think she couldn't cope with school?"
"I know my child and-"
"Everyone thinks they know their child but..."
What followed was a lecture in which I was told that I can't meet my child's needs, only school can do that. I was told that as her mother I underestimate my daughter's abilities and that if I sent her to school she could reach her full potential and stop being held back by me. I was doing my daughter a disservice by denying her enrollment to a special school (the assumption being that if traditional schooling won't work, surely a school for the developmentally delayed will).
 
If you're wondering how I could  let someone speak to me like this, just know that I have a lot of experience with being treated as subhuman. This sort of offensive, patronising rudeness is all part of the "having female genitalia" package. Also, by choosing to home educate your children you cease to be fully human because homeschooling is an "alternative lifestyle choice" ("alternative" being a code word for "unworthy of respect").

The implication that I am holding my daughter back reveals Someone Else's ignorance about autism. Sending her to school will not suddenly "correct" whatever it is about her brain that makes her anxious about groups of people, and transitioning between activities. She's not going to magically learn to speak clearly from school teachers and students (because if it were that simple she would already be speaking clearly from learning at home with us, jut as her siblings have!).

What is it about school that Someone Else wants for my daughter? In a mainstream school my child would have to compete with twenty other children for the attention of her teacher. Funding issues mean that she is not guaranteed an aid worker in class with her. At home the worst the teacher:child ratio gets is 1:4...but our active lives and local homeschooling community mean there are frequently many adults. Our daughter's music teacher pointed out that our daughter is highly intelligent and if she could get into a "special school" she would quickly be the lowest priority in a roomful of very needy little learners.

If I sent my child to school she would spend hours at a time in a single room with twenty other children her own age. At home she is free to spend her time in any room or outside. We spend a lot more time out and about than at home, though. My point is that she is never confined. If she becomes overwhelmed seeking refuge is simple.

If she is unready or unable to perform a certain task, we leave it be and come back to it when she is ready. She has a say in what she learns, how she learns, and when she learns it (same as her siblings). If we start a new activity we can give her plenty of attention and support preparing. If she's anxious we can take the time to work through it with her. We know what situations make her anxious, we know how to help her deal with these situations and the anxiety. We know when a little encouragement will help her try something new and we know when a little encouragement will cause her anxiety to spike. And for all the times that we don't know for sure: we try, we observe, we wait, we see, we adjust, and most importantly: we love.

No teacher, no matter how great, cares more about our child's welfare than we do (and teachers agree). Even the most devoted teacher is not there for our daughter, like we are as her educators. Teachers are there for everyone's daughters. Perhaps Someone Else thinks that teachers have advanced training in educating autistic children? Given the constant efforts of other parents working to make schools safe and supportive for their autistic children, I'm going to hazard a guess that there's not a teacher alive who understands autism better than the parents who live with it. From what I can tell it is generally the parents of autistic children who are raising the awareness, advocating for their children's rights and needs and working with teachers and the community to get a better system for their often bullied, shamed and misunderstood children. Furthermore, given the lack of understanding of autism in girls, even within the psychological profession, I don't have faith that the average school teacher is equipped to meet my daughter's needs in a classroom.

School would be my daughter's nightmare. An enclosed space for much of the day, many people in that space, her activities prescribed to her for a set amount of time and these activities stopping and starting frequently throughout the day. It would take a massive amount of physical, mental and emotional energy for her to survive the world of school. We don't have to do that to her, we can provide a learning environment better suited to her needs without school and she can save all that energy to focus more on the things that inspire her. Perhaps by giving her a school free education she can spend the energy she saves on not dealing with the classroom, on facing the challenges her neurologically diverse brain presents? In any case, despite the developmental, social and communication difficulties our daughter lives with, she is a happy and healthy little girl. She enjoys her life and is always learning. Just like her neurotypical siblings.

Look at all that disservice I'm doing these children by denying them the necessity of a classroom

Edited: Days after writing this post we discussed this issue with our daughter's psychologist, paediatrician and autism advisors from Amaze. The advisors and paediatrician recognised home educating as a legitimate choice and saw no reason to change our current approach with our daughter, the advisors emphasised that autism can't be caused or cured by anything a parent does. But what was most reassuring was the psychologist informing us that with an IQ like our daughter has she could not get into a special school even if we tried. It was her professional opinion that we were making the right choice for our daughter's education, that many families with autistic children make the same choice because it is the best way of meeting their learning needs, especially given mainstream schools can't afford to provide autistic students with the support they need. #vindicated

The 4 Year Blanket

Four years ago I started learning to crochet. I thought the bet approach would be to learn one of the stitches and then repeat it fifty million times to ensure I understood it, before moving on to learning the next stitch (I was wrong. So very wrong.) For my first project I decided to make a blanket for Gaia.

Gaia was four years old and had no interest in moving out of the big family bed into her own bed. I thought making her a single bed sized blanket might make the transition more appealing. She moved into her bunk bed three years before I finished her blanket, LOL. Gaia selected some balls of yarn and left the rest to me. I bought my first set of hooks, borrowed two 'how to crochet' books from the local library and set to work.

What I did not realise at the time was that there are two different crochet "languages". Stitches in American crochet have different names from stitches in British crochet. And this was how I invented an insane stitch that is something between a British single and American double stitch. This is partly why it took four years to finish Gaia's blanket. It didn't take long for me to master one stitch and move on to the next and before long I was working on a number of different projects and the blanket had become tedious. Then when I did return to the blanket, more experienced, I realised the stitch it was made from doesn't exist LOL. I had to figure out how to recreate the crazy stitch (or "Sazz stitch") or unravel months worth of work. I decided to forge on with the unique stitch...but now that I knew how to crochet, it was hard to make my hands and my brain do the wrong thing over and over.

As I neared the end of the project I realised that the edges were very uneven and hoped a border would make it look more respectable. The finished project is FAR from perfect, but it is filled with love and I'm rather proud that I kept at it despite the flaws and the years it took (and I'm impressed with my girl for maintaining her faith and enthusiasm for the project despite the long wait!).

The woman who started making this blanket was a mother of two in her 20s, she was addicted to soft drink and chocolate, working on a masters degree (which, unlike the blanket, did not have the good fortune to be completed) and she was working as a doula. She could not have imagined the woman who weaved in the ends of the lilac border. A woman in her 30s, mother of four, sugar free yoga enthusiast, and student midwife. I remember the period in my life when I took up crochet as being particularly tumultuous. I like to imagine I can reach back through time by stroking her hobbled stitches and reassure the lost young woman that she was on the right track. With each passing stitch she grew a little more self-accepting and wise. As the blanket grew, so did her family and her circle of friends. The blanket is full of history, as well as love.

I finished in the late hours of Saturday night, while on Face Time with a friend. In the time it took me to make this blanket my friend and I had been through many life-changing moments as well, including the birth of my third child, for which she was present. On Sunday Gaia came home from a morning swim and before I'd finished telling her what had happened while she was asleep the night before, she spied the folded fabric on my desk and guessed.
"YOU FINISHED MY BLANKET!" she squealed with such heartwarming delight.

Totally worth the wait

She is completely in love with her blanket. She loves the border most of all, she said "I thought you meant you were just going to do a boring line around the edge, not something flowery like this!" I'm relieved her taste in colours hasn't changed over the past four years ;)

Now the blanket has become part of Gaia's evening. When I told her I was feeling a bit lost now that this epic project was put to rest, Gaia replied:
"Time for Yemaya's."

Faster Than a Speeding Train

Gaia and Yemaya ran in a fun run today. Collectively they ran 1km alongside a steam train. Money raised by the cost of registration, donations and sponsorship went towards the local hospital's paediatric ward. We raised over $5000 (though, only $40 of that was from our family! That "we" felt a little misleading, I had to clarify!).

It was Yemaya's first fun run and Gaia's second. Yemaya's age group outran the steam train. (Gaia was somewhat put out that her group were set a harder challenge and ended up eating the trains dust...or steam, as it were).

They also had CFA there with a firetruck the kids could climb all over, a colouring in table, petting zoo, amazing balloon artist and face painter, all of which were covered by the registration fee. All the participants were given a certificate for completing the race, as well as a showbag that included random items such as a drink bottle and toothbrush (all provided by relevant sponsors, not because someone was addle minded lol!) The Rotary Club who organised the event were all really terrific, very helpful and friendly.

It was a fun day. Hopefully they'll do it again next year, with some more food trucks, and we'll think to bring hats and sunscreen (the sun was surprisingly bitey for mid Autumn!).

There are worse things than living with Autism

This week we had our daughter's final diagnostic session with her psychologist. Her official opinion is that our girl is indeed autistic. I decided not to go straight home, instead I took the kids to a nearby ('pirate ship!') playground and decided to forget about the world.

Let me sail away from reality for a while...

We were soaking up the Autumn sunshine after a cold and wet morning. I ran around with the kids and enjoyed their happy faces and crazy antics. Usually I'm at the park with them and a group of friends, so I'm busy talking to other parents rather than playing. It was nice to get lost in the moment with the girls, and be a stranger to everyone else at the park.

I had to sit down to feed the baby and an older woman approached me to ask if the school holidays had finished yet, she was holidaying from interstate and thought the children were due back in school.
'They have" I replied, 'we homeschool, that's why my big kids are here today' I explained.
'So what do you make of all these changes in schools?' She asked.
'I think the only way for White Australia and Black Australia to move forward is with an honest understanding of our history, including the ugly.' I replied, thinking she was asking me about the embarrasing controversy* in which white people got upset about university students being asked to refer to English "discovery" of Australia as "invasion".
'No, no, not that. I mean this awful safe schools business.'
'Oh' I found myself dumbfounded.

Safe Schools is a program to educate students about sexual diversity. It introduces students to common sense concepts like respect.
'Well, it's good...it's just life' I began before being interrupted.
 'Children don't need to learn about those sorts of things so young!'
'They already know, that's what I'm saying, it's just life and kids-'
'In this day and age. It's terrible. I never knew about it as a child. Growing up in New Zealand you never met a person like that.'
'Yes you did. You absolutely met gay people, you just didn't realise it.'
What I failed to have the presence of mind to tell her at the time was that she didn't realise she was currently talking to a bisexual woman. But it got worse and in the end it was probably wise I let her think I was heterosexual (though I feel sick about it now...but my bi invisibility as a mother is another matter for another post).

'There are gay children in school right now, and they need support and safety' I said.
'Kids are so suggestable! As I'm sure you know, as a mother. You can make a child think anything' (like that there's no such thing as gay? Yes, I've seen your kind "making children think", despicable, you're the reason we so desperately need the safe school program). She went on: 'I knew a young man who thought he was gay, in university, you know how it is, they get all confused at university. But he's not and he knows that now and he's happily married. So you see..'
I could dissect this one sentence and write an entire post about it alone, but I'll quickly just offer this symphony of hashtags for my critique: #bisexualityisreal #bivisibility #sexualdiversityisntaphase #becausefuckyou

At this point she revealed the completely unsurprising fact that she identifies as a Christian and that she could never be convinced homosexuality was acceptable because it's a sin, plain and simple.
'It's clearly there in The Bible.' She frothed.
I am now suffering a terrible case of the Should-ve-saids...I should have been snarky and said: Well, my Christian friends and I don't base our opinions of the education system on the ramblings of a group of men two thousand years dead. Or I could have memorised this ahead of time:

The West Wing for the win

But I didn't. I must finally be accepting my parent's early teaching: you can't argue with an idiot, because I stayed calm and continued to insert my dissenting opinion when she paused to steal valuable oxygen from the atmosphere.

I despise "The Bible" argument (you might have surmised). Once upon a time I identified as a Christian, myself. During this time I read The Bible and I managed not to turn into an arsehole. There's this guy in The Bible and he's basically The Anti This-woman.
'Yes, but what about the life and teachings of your Christ?' I asked, 'What would Jesus make of the safe school program? What did he have to say about the marginalised people of society? And who did he hang out with?'
'He changed lives! He associated with fallen women and then they stopped working as prostitutes because of him.'
#lostcause

'Have you read The Bible?' she asked indignintly.
'I have' I replied.
'Yes, but have you studied The Bible'
'Yes, I have. I was raised by fundamentalist Christians, I was very devout until I was 20, I'm no longer Christian. But even when I was, I did not interpret the life of Christ the way you have chosen to interpret it'. I said as respectfully as is possible under the circumstances.
'Well I've been reading Revelations. You'll never convince me to turn away from faith. Christ is my saviour.'
Not that I hoped to turn you away from your faith, but you're the one who has completely missed the point of your Messiah!
Another Christian who has yet to "find Jesus"
...there are too many to count.

At this point my recently labelled "autistic" daughter needed her drink bottle re-filled and I had to find a water tap. I had to wrap this exchange up as best I could and as quick as I could before my girl started losing her shit. I went with:
'I think the safe schools program is a step in the right direction, because anything that challenges stigma and shame is good for society.'

I've been reeling ever since. As the girls continued playing, I stood watching them and wondering 'Why???? Why did the universe have to send me a bigot while I was trying to enjoy the park with my kids and process the news that one of them has autism????' Then it struck me...There are worse things than living with autism.

My daughter may find certain aspects of socialisation challenging. She may struggle with fine motor skills, language and comprehension. She may always find new people and places difficult, she may live with anxiety her whole life and be triggered by loud noises and crowds. She may prefer screens over nature walks and My Little Ponies over people. But she is safe and she is loved. She will grow up knowing the feeling of acceptance....she will not have to fear coming out to her family if she is a lesbian or indeed if she is asexual. She will not learn to hate or fear people with different orientations or beliefs from her own.

My daughter is autistic, and her empathy and social skills are still light years ahead of middle-aged conservatives.

So glad I decided to take them to the park

*I'm embarrassed that this was controversial. It is factually incorrect to refer to European arrival as "discovery" given science has shown that the First Australians were here for literally thousands of years before that point! And history has shown us European arrival involved the systematic oppression and mass murder of Indigenous Australians.

Naming Day

We have a tradition in our family that when our newest baby is around 3-4 months old we hold a Naming Day ceremony. It is somewhat of a secular christening, in which we welcome the baby formally into our community, and we declare (secular) Godparents for the child. We share with our guests the meaning behind our new child's names and how she or he came to be so named. Last week we celebrated Lenus' naming day.

Our tribe at the Naming Day

We're sometimes asked why we give our children Godparents when we actively reject religion and consider spirituality be an highly personal and private affair, detached from religion. To us, a Godparent is an honouring aunt or uncle, invited into the family to take a special interest in that child's life. For us the children's Godparents are people we point to in their lives and say "These people are safe. These people love you like family. You can turn to these adults when you need someone but aren't ready to turn to your parents" which we believe will be more significant in their adolescent years than childhood. It has been beautiful to watch Gaia and Yemaya build relationships with their Godmother and Godfather respectively. They know they are special to those adults and it's a relationship they have with those adults that their siblings do not have. It is also rather lovely expanding our family this way with each baby. We gain a blessed child and two more extended relatives <3

It got emotional

Our son's Godfather officiated the proceedings and everything he said was perfect. He spoke a little about the history of naming days and shared that in some cultures the child's name isn't revealed until the naming day, and before announcing to the world, the mother whispers the baby's name in his ear. I happened to do this with Lenus, but Lenus' welcome to the world was quite different from his sisters'. He required a transfer to hospital and a stay in the Special Care Nursery for a week. With our eldest three we named them while holding them in their birth pools, coming down from the great oxytocin high. We were sad to miss this moment with Lenus, so Eale and I decided not name him until we returned home from special care. In that first week we tried many different names on our son, whispering them over and over to see what fit. Once we've named our children we're quick to share the name with our friends and family (and I could not stand to organise/host a naming day any sooner than 3 months!)

His Godfather also spoke about how special it was to be able to celebrate Lenus' little life, because it was a miracle he lived. We spoke about the Celtic God Lenus and connection between his the other names we gave him which he shares with his Grandfather and deceased Great Grandfather. A friend read a picture book about the preciousness of new life and a poem. And the women who were with me as I birthed him spoke about that experience and their feelings for Lenus and I. It was a very moving day. We also took the opportunity to give special thanks and a small gift to each of the individuals who made such a huge difference to our family in those first challenging weeks.

Lenus was wearing a lovely outfit hand crafted by Frida's Godmother/my very dear friend who drove five hours to be with us, jumped back in the car and drove all the way back in a single day!

It was a very moving day for us and we're so grateful to the friends and family who joined us (some traveling very far). We are very blessed, indeed.

Lenus with his Godmother

xoxo

Under The Stars

We took all the children to an outdoor cinema for the first time this month. It was a lovely evening, a cool breeze, but a warm night. A big inflatable screen, a kid's movies, the sunset, followed by the moon and the stars, a van selling popcorn up the back and banana lounges for hire, which were so comfy.

We packed a big rug for the kids to sit on, plenty of water, warm clothes, a blanket and cushion each. Unfortunately the food trucks that were meant to provide us dinner didn't show up, so I sped off down the road and grabbed a few pizzas instead.

There is something particularly majikelle about having my family all close together at night that fills my heart. I think it evokes memories of being loved and safe as a child, drifting off to sleep in the back of the car on a long road trip. I remember as a child looking forward to one day creating a family of my own and creating that sense of belonging for my children. I often get this wonderful warm feeling when I'm driving us all home in the middle of the night. Everyone is so close in the car, it's dark outside, the children sleeping peacefully or nodding off and then some private time with Ealesy...it's my favourite time to talk...or rather to dream aloud about the future we're creating (not unlike how I used to think about it in the backseat as a child). I was filled with that sense of loving wonder while at the nighttime cinema.

It is one of those moments when you realise that your arms are nowhere near as big as your heart. I had an urge to hold all of them at once...but my arms just aren't long enough. Nevertheless, I could feel them all being held firmly in my heart. Most of the time I'm so swept up in surviving the day, that I forget to feel. It's refreshing to be uprooted from the everyday and find yourself in a moment outside of time, looking in at all that you have...

And as quick as it came, the moment is broken by the shriek of tired toddler, growling "boobee" and trying to rip your breasts out of your shirt in a public space and as you urge her to quiet down, you catch the scent of what you know will be an epic dump in the baby's pants. That's when you realise you forgot to pack the baby wipes. But before too long you're driving all the people you made, home in the middle of the night, listening to the sounds of their slumber while poking fun at the movie with your best mate in the passenger seat.

March Moments

March was the month that appeared to never end...and then it did.

Beach days, stage performance, music group, fine art appreciation, park playdates, sculpture garden, grocery shopping, Ventana Festival, end of summer basketball comp and the end of playing in an all boys league, baby's first swim, serenading the public on the library piano, first aid course for children, babywearing siblings help make the days shorter.