Twinkles

First off - I've been sober for ... 100 days! Because this is my blog, and because in my blogs I am always (mostly) honest, I have to say that there were 2 days that I had a glass or two of wine.  Both times I regretted it sorely, both immediately after I'd had the drink and most importantly, in the morning and all the way through the next day. I see this as only a good thing. I feel great. I am exercising again, yoga and running, I am eating less, I have lost weight. There is no way I want to go back to the way I wuz. 

I have decided this blog is going to take a new direction, one with a combined focus. My hope is that it will fuse my thoughts on raising a spirited child, and the complexities and challenges of motherhood, with  my work. I find working with children solely through music to be fascinating, and my learning curve is sometimes very steep. My work is inextricably connected with my own life, not only because I teach children who are of a very similar age to my child, but also because I am continuously reflecting on my classes and how to improve them, drawing on my varied experiences as an educator, my ongoing research about how children learn, what interests them, and a sort of innate knowing that you are given when you become a mother. I am an observer and an absorber.

Here is a story from this week. 

I teach a mixture of classes, some at preschools and some at centres that require parents to signup and attend with their children. Thursday morning is a centre signup class for 2 to 5 year olds, and for a few terms I have had mostly 3, 4 and 5 year olds, but this term I have almost exlusively 2 and 3 year olds, the majority of them boys. I realised I had to shift my regular programming for this group, as they are not easy. All they want to do, is scream, run around, and bash into each other. 

Last week, I had planned, as I always do, a class that combines a healthy amount of moving and running and jumping with some sitting activities. The kids were having none of it. When I pulled out a book for storytime, they all got up and ran in circles screeching their heads off whilst laughing maniacally. Okay, I thought, I'll follow their energy today. So, I adapted the planned activities to ones that were entirely movement based, and we had a great class, but it was completely different from how I had planned it, and I must admit, at the end I was completely exhausted - more so than usual. Even the parents commented on how crazy the kids were being. I smiled and nodded my agreement, frazzled. 

This week, I was ready for them. For the first time since they started with me 5 weeks ago, I brought coloured sitting spots. They chose which colour spot they wanted, and then set the boundary; when they hear the bell, they must sit on their spot. I engaged the parents so they were in on it. It was fascinating to see how much the kids struggled with this simple rule. 2 of them got it right away, the other 2 tried to sit anywhere BUT the spot, and then tried to rip it apart, throw it, wiggle it, anything they could think of to avoid following the rule. I made another rule "You can choose. You either sit on it, or mummy takes it away". Again, 2 of them got it, and the other 2 absolutely railed against this boundary. By the end, because I didn't back down and neither did the parents, they learned that this rule was non negotiable and they followed it. I felt victorious, and happy for them that they had learned this most valuable lesson. 

Another little boundary I introduced during our instrument exploration, was that when the music stops, we stop playing. It seems a pretty simple concept and I am sure that all of the kids there could understand it. 1 of the 2 that was resistant to conformity just decided not to follow the rule, and his mum had to physically take his hands away as he banged on the drum in the silence when everyone else had stopped, staring at me with a cheeky, almost defiant, look in his eye. When his mum did stop him from playing, he scowled, and hit her with the sticks. I then said gently but firmly, "We never, EVER hit people with our sticks!" So, I realised, I need to introduce the sticks in a different way. One brilliant teacher who I follow on instagram said that when she introduces the sticks, she tells the kids that we are all in our own personal bubble, and we never want to pop the bubble. If our sticks go outside our bubble, we have popped it, oh no! This, of course, helps them to keep their sticks within their own space, and they (hopefully) won't touch other people with sticks. This kind of imaginative and creative approach to learning that meets children right where they are is just up my street.

It made me think a lot about boundaries, as I am doing at home with my Pickle all the time. When children don't have them, they aren't used to them, and if they aren't used to them, it is not their fault or their responsibility when they struggle to follow them. It was interesting to see which children were able to easily adapt to the rules and which were not. 

My classes are very free and easy, so it makes sense that these little people were confused when I introduced a rule so late in the class. Usually I just introduce musical activities, games and stories, and they focus because they are having fun. But I have never given them boundaries, and I think a very small but consistent amount of discipline and expectation should be a significant ingredient in my teaching, regardless of the dynamic of the class. 

Yesterday, when I picked up my little girl from school, she was very happy. She said she had a good day, We came home, and I made a painting activity out in the garden for her. She wanted to paint The Earth for Earth day, she said. So she started, making the first few strokes. It didn't go well for her. The earth wasn't round, the paint mixed in a way she wasn't expecting, and "it wasn't the exact same as when my teacher did it!". From the very first stroke, I tensed. I knew it was going to end in disaster, and, similar to an onlooker being forced to watch the Titanic sinking from a safe dry place, I had to sit and observe a great tragedy unfolding. My help was not requested, in fact it was emphatically rejected, as page after page was ripped from the easel and thrown upon the ground in fury and sorrow, accompanied by wails and screams punctuated by bits and pieces of gasped information. The colours didn't mix like this at school. The earth wasn't round like it should be. I can definitely, most definitely, without a doubt, do it by my own. I don't need your help mummy. 

After a while looking on as she tried, failed, and cried throughout the entire process, I said to her let's go inside. When inside, I held her tightly on the stairs, and when a few minutes had passed, suggested we have some cereal. No, she replied, I don't want anything. Daddy came around the corner and she managed to ask weakly if she could watch TV. It was a school night though, and I just did not want to break the rule no TV on school nights. Although I was so tempted to, I did not. I thought this would result in another world war, but instead she started breathing more regularly, asked for her duggee (forever blanket) then, a few minutes later after some more intense cuddling, "Can I have some cereal please mummy" in the tiniest, sweetest, most liltingly gorgeous voice you ever did hear. And that was it. Rice Krispies to the rescue, and we are out of the black hole. The rest of the night was spent happily playing and talking together with her parents who are more deeply in love with her every second of every day.

I am so very very glad I held the boundary. For her sake. In those times, without knowing it, she is testing us to see if we are strong enough to hold these boundaries, and she desperately needs us to be that strong.

These little ones, they have such huge emotions, they are going through so much. Let them be little. They are learning, just like us. We are all still learning.

Thanks for reading x