Poetry Speaks: Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

The memorization of the girls' second long poem was a long time in coming. Unlike the process of memorizing "A Visit from St. Nicholas," which they probably could have listened to eight times a day for the entire Christmas season, the girls got tired of listening to "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening," by Robert Frost, before they had it memorized, so we set it aside for a good, long while.

I imagine that another factor is the fact that "A Visit from St. Nicholas" is available at our library in a dozen different copies with different illustrators, so that each repetition had new aspects, and I was even able to download a coloring book version of "A Visit from St. Nicholas" so that the girls could make their own book. Our library only had one picture book of "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" for us to work with, unfortunately, so eventually it got a little old and we dropped it.

I keep checking the book out, however, and recently it occurred to me that Willow absolutely, and Sydney to a lesser extent, really have the poem almost memorized, so I brought the book back out and suggested that if they worked to read it over just a few more times, they could probably finish learning it by heart and be ready to recite it.

Syd got frustrated and dropped the project after one try (which is fine--the poem will always be there), but Will happily took up the challenge:


Rote memorization is good for our brains, but--and this is super cheesy, so get ready--that's not really why I want my girls to memorize poetry. Poetry connects us all on an emotional level, allowing us a shared outlet for feelings that we all may own, but rarely have the sophistication to voice. Because of that, to memorize a poem isn't just to know it in your mind, but also to hold it in your heart. Poems are big things for little girls to hold in their hearts, but out of all of the lifetime's worth of things, both good and bad, that will eventually reside there, their hearts will always be the better for being tempered by a heavy dose of poetry.

Our version of the poem:

• Poetry for Kids: Robert Frost

Dancing to Dvorak with Daddy

Or, How One Man Wins the Household Father of the Year Contest. Every. Single. Year.

Balance Scale

The best way to introduce the girls to a tool like the balance scale without having to, you know, INTRODUCE them to it is to just leave it out enticingly on the table, all the little brass weights that go with it shiny and bright in the sun, and then to simply ignore it.

Little girls will weigh their shoes in it.

They will use it to compare their breakfast smoothies, to see who got more.

All the toy ponies in the house will ride in it.

It will be an all-encompassing activity at playdates:

And eventually it will be put away, and its coveted spot on the coffee table will be replaced by, I don't know...the microscope? Stethoscope? Watercolor pencils?

Decreeing the next week's new obsession is a heady power!

Here are the brass weights that we use, when we're not weighing ponies and coffee cups and LEGOs:
 

Maker Faire Detroit 2011

That's where I've been!

Ostensibly, we went to Maker Faire Detroit primarily for this:

Really, though, by the time that I've made everything and we've lugged it all there and Matt's hauled everything inside and I've set it all up exactly as I want it, you pretty much only need one adult to sit there and smile and sell things.

Everyone else, well...

can swing on the water pump swings:

There's a motion sensor on the swing that stops the water right as you pass underneath it, but perhaps because the girls are so small, or their swings are so short, the makers were horrified and the girls were THRILLED to discover that this sensor did not always function accurately for them. My soaking wet girls went back time after time after time.

and build spinning things at the gears table:

Don't you love those wooden gears?

and admire the fire-breathing robot pony:

and work industriously on our scratch block:

I traced the girls' handprints overlapping the block (because I was too cheap to buy two of them), and then they decorated, proudly:

The iron pour was another entire amazing event in itself, but I'll have to show you our wonderful finished iron tile later, on account of I was too excited to take pictures. Here's our waste block, though, there in the middle:


The girls constructed marshmallow shooters:

I think they're kind of gross, and I really want to sanitize the pieces in the dishwasher, but the girls have discovered infinite ways to blow a mini marshmallow into another person's mouth, so there you go, physics

Don't worry, you fans of Matt, he got to get his fanboy on, too:

We also spent some time just tooling about in the Henry Ford Museum, which has a genuine Oscar Meyer Weinermobile!


Including a D.I.Y. hot dog station:

I did have a really cute video of Willow putting all the toppings on top of Sydney as she lay in the bun, but right in the middle of it, somebody walked by behind me and shouted out to my child, "Be still, wiener!".

Fortunately, heckling is quite welcome at the modified Power Wheel races:

I did not buy the buttery leather steampunk chic superhero mask that I REALLY wanted, but I did buy a chainmail and rubber gasket stretchy arm cuff, and the girls made themselves some superhero masks to go with it:

Will was a little disappointed that she didn't get chosen to operate the crank to start the giant Rube Goldberg machine:


(listen carefully--did you hear the windshield crunch?), but tell me if I'm wrong, but does it or does it not look like she has a future in driving an iron scrap fire-breathing jungle gym disco station dragon welded to the top of a dump truck?

Don't worry--it's not breathing fire at the moment!

So you may be thinking, "Yeah, that looks fun and all, but where's the big Vegas-style finale? And also, it doesn't look like you got sticky at all!"

Well, you know what?


We got sticky.

Independence Day Unit Study: The 13 British Colonies in America

Labeling maps is one of the hallmarks of Montessori work, and even now, after over a year of homeschooling in which they have the pleasure of choosing all their own school activities, mapwork is still something that both the girls really enjoy.

Fortunately, free maps of the thirteen British colonies in colonial America are easily available online:

• I printed this printable of each colony on its own page (from A Kid's Heart) at 1/4 size so that the girls could make it into a mini coloring book, to later be mounted into their Independence Day unit study book (I order these big bare books in bulk straight from their web site).
• I printed this labeled map of the 13 colonies for the girls to use as a reference while they completed--
• this unlabeled map of the 13 colonies:

I recopied the names of the colonies onto a separate sheet of paper, but otherwise, the printout was perfect for an old-school Montessori map-labeling activity. After it Willow, who admittedly has done a lot of extra reading on the subject, could recite nearly all of the colonies, and Syd of course will learn more with repetition, which she enjoys.

Other 13 colonies resources that were much enjoyed:
     

Tie-Dyed Socks on our Feet

Nobody, and I mean nobody, matches socks around here.

A giant hamper of clean socks lives in the closet. When my partner and I need clean socks, we dig through the hamper until we find a matching pair--it's very annoying. The kids are far less troubled, since when they need clean socks, they simply dig through the hamper until they find two socks that fit--no matching necessary, apparently. Well, the little kid, who is our clothes horse, does tend to search until she finds two "pretty" socks, but again, they definitely won't match.

For a long time it's been my dream to make sock matching an occupation of the past. To that end, for the past year or so I've allowed our sock supply to dwindle drastically, neglecting to replace holey or outgrown socks, until we each have just a few left. Then, I restocked us all with plain white socks from Dharma Trading Company.

Then, I set up the fabric dye in squeeze bottles--

--and spent an afternoon on the living room carpet with the kids tying off socks with rubber bands, and then we dragged them all outside and off we went:

The kids each also tie-dyed white turtlenecks, hand-me-downs from an acquaintance that had just a couple of light stains on them, because yes, I accept free stuff even if it's messed up. That's how my kids will be wearing tie-dyed turtlenecks this winter!

My poor partner arrived home from work that afternoon to the horror of a backyard full of fabric dye and mess and just more mess. I won't say that he was thrilled to jump in, but he let himself be persuaded to join in the family mess-making artistry. 

I know you're supposed to wear gloves and all, but I don't like the feel of them, and what am I supposed to do with the kids? Encase them in head-to-toe plastic aprons like serial killers wear to chop up their prey?

Eh, we were just colorful for a while:

I let the socks fester in plastic bags in the yard for 24 hours, then gave them a good rinse--look how pretty!

And after a wash and a dry, we have a new season of socks!

P.S. If you want the fun of tie-dye without the mess, try tie-dyeing coffee paper filters with markers!

P.P.S. Love family-friendly crafts? Then you'll love my Craft Knife Facebook page!

The Baby Likes Her Body Art

I drew the rainbow butterfly, and she drew the sun and the sky and the blowing wind:

Perhaps next time I can convince her to draw a Sharpie temporary tattoo on her arm INSTEAD of sticking one on her forehead.

Countdown to Maker Faire Detroit!

Who has two thumbs and a Pumpkin+Bear booth at Maker Faire Detroit?!?

MATT!!! Because it's a sure bet that the girlies and I are going to make our Matt booth-sit for us so that we can spend our weekend doing this:

Craft Faire, inside Maker Faire, is hosted by Handmade Detroit, and I was super-bummed because I actually didn't get in at first, but thank you to whatever crafter did get in and then turned down their spot, and yay for me for apparently being high up on the waitlist, which is almost as good as getting in outright, because I got in anyway!

I am especially thrilled to be going because Maker Faire is one of those events that I have always really, really, REALLY wanted to go to anyway. Since I've written for MAKE magazine, I got free tickets to the Maker Faire Bay Area, and I was super bummed that I could not think of a single legitimate method to get us all on a plane to California without putting a second mortgage on the house.

Detroit, however, is vastly more do-able, and with a Pumpkin+Bear booth for Matt to sit at and vend handmade homeschool crafts for us, the girls and I will have a place to keep our water bottles and drop off our cardboard robots and personal hovercrafts and other awesome stuff that we've made.

And I'm not even going to start telling you about the Maker Mixer, or the Ignite session, or the marshmallow shooters that the girls are going to make, or the fire-breathing pony, or the dragon dump truck jungle gym, or the giant Rube Goldberg machines, or the Bellagio-style Coke and Mentos fountain show, or how I'm totally going to do the iron pour, and get my picture taken on the recumbent tricycle, and rock out to nerdcore...

Summer Fare

I really don't cook. I don't enjoy it--in fact, I find cooking tedious and uninteresting, requiring too much clean-up and fuss.

Mind you, I think nothing of doing plaster of Paris at the living room table, or tie-dyeing with the girls in the backyard WITHOUT GLOVES, so clean-up and fuss aren't in fact issues for me. I just don't enjoy cooking.

I mean, why cook when you can just make a sandwich?

The other moms who I know who don't cook happen to have partners who DO cook, but I happen to have a partner who needs me to tell him, every single night, "Just ask the girls if they want a peanut butter sandwich or a grilled cheese sandwich or a smoothie, and there's canned applesauce and frozen corn or blueberries, and see if they'll eat a carton of yogurt with it." Seriously, every single night he needs me to tell him options for a quick and suitable dinner for two children. I think he eats baked chicken for dinner every night, I don't bother to ask.

And no, we're not one of those families who eat dinner together, with the tablecloths and napkin rings and candles and crap. Sue us.

That being said, I do get a lot of pleasure out of an in-season fruit salad:

It doesn't require cooking!

I don't tend to cook normal stuff every day, like a nice pot of spaghetti or a brown rice stir-fry or whatever normal people stand around in the kitchen for an hour and cook for dinner every single day, but every now and then I will try out a recipe, especially if it sounds just crazy:

The Pioneer Woman's Knock You Naked Brownies were CRAZY. I didn't put all the fuss into them that she did, but yeah, they turned out just a smidge over-the-top. Insanely tasty, and unlikely to be baked again unless I'm ever invited to a potluck at which people would be impressed by over-the-top sweet desserts. That potluck would probably be in Arkansas.

I got bored with baking bread every day, so now I pretty much only make the occasional pizza crust, but after the instruction of my friend Cake, I do now officially know how to make pie crust--

--although it's kind of a lot of work. Still, the family praised and praised and praised the strawberry pie that the crust turned into, and although I'm pretty sure that all the praise every time I cook something is a not-so-subtle strategy to simply get me to cook a little more, I do have plans to make that pie crust again soon, this time for quiche, and also to at some point to get around to trying out both zucchini fries and overnight cinnamon rolls.

Or, you know, we could just continue eating sandwiches. It could go either way, really...

Our Homemade Sidewalk Chalk in Action

Would you believe that the GIANT batch of sidewalk chalk that the girls and I made last week (the homemade sidewalk chalk tutorial lives on Crafting a Green World) is already completely used up?

Well, you might believe it after this:

Life-size family, with all their clothes and accessories

Roman gladiator gameboard, which stretches ALL THE WAY across the basketball court

it's like hopscotch, but with swords and horses and rivers to cross

We have a date to make more sidewalk chalk this week, because Will thinks that this game would also be pretty great if you used Ancient Egyptians instead of Romans.

Her correctness about this particular issue is a sure thing, wouldn't you agree?

Ocean Party

two wading pools

gold fish crackers

a Matt-carved watermelon

whale

good friends from public school, private school, the local charter school, and three different homeschools

plus assorted moms and 2.5 dads

blue ocean jello with candy fish, whipped cream waves, and a graham cracker beach

It was tasty:

wading and swimming and splashing and jumping and shouting and running around like maniacs

brown paper treat bags, crayons, and foam stickers

ocean-themed chicken nuggets (I know--barf! But how to resist?)

bug spray

HOT day (thank goodness for the wading pools!)

shark pinata made from oatmeal canisters, cardboard, duct tape, and spray paint

 

It was quite whackable:

Quite, quite whackable:

candy

lots and lots of candy

brownie beach cake with a cream cheese frosting ocean and hand-rolled beeswax candles

the birthday song

SO many photographs!

SO many good presents from generous friends:

So much laughter

So much fun

And one very, very happy, very, very beloved, brand-new seven-year-old.

Willow Sum

Matt accused me of homeschooling solely for the moment that occurred last week, when I turned around in my seat in the car and asked my daughter, "Quis es?"

"Willow sum," she promptly replied, and Matt is, of course, perfectly correct.

I am a Latin nerd.

With Will's permission, I've added Latin (and typing, but that's a different post) to her list of daily responsibilities. So far she's really enjoying it, mostly because her textbook, Minimus, is so ridiculously super-cute. Witness:



Later that day, I explained to her that the cat's name, literal translation something like "Vibrate to the Utmost," was probably due to the fact that the Romans might have thought of cat's purring as vibrating (which it is), and thus the cat's name could be more accurately translated, then, as Purrsy or some such.

The child was thrilled. And that's Latin!

Sparkle

Although they're cheapest right before Independence Day, sparklers?

They're an all-summer after-dark treat around here.