Positive, Productive Problem-Solving with Kids

It's easy as a parent to get in a habit of constantly reminding your child about the same behavior repeatedly. Maybe it's leaving their wet towel on the floor, maybe it's never being ready on time when it is time to leave the house, maybe it's always interrupting others, or maybe something else. We find ourselves reacting in the moment to the same, pretty predictable, problem(s) day in and day out. But this pattern doesn't solve the problem: you feel like a broken record, your kid feels nagged, and you both feel frustrated. 

But, when you step back and see the situation for what it is-- a regular problem area, a pattern-- that is a step toward ending the problem. There are ways to change and improve those habitual frustrations, and better yet, leave parent and child feeling good instead of bad. 

One strategy is the one-on-one parent-child conference, or social conference, best used when working with an individual child about a recurring problem. The other method is a family meeting, for problem-solving as a group a situation or part of the day that generally is not working well and involves more than one person. Both are useful, depending on the circumstances. 

Sometimes these methods blend together. The basic approach for both is similar. Both are conversations with kids. Both involve naming the problem, brainstorming solutions, and choosing strategies to improve. Instead of the adult making all the decisions and handing down consequences or changes to the way things are going to be done, both of these strategies have kids and adults working together to problem solve. Being involved in problem solving makes children feel respected and more on board with outcomes, and also gives them practice in an important life skill.

I first learned about these strategies years ago as a teacher when I read a great book called Teaching Children to Care, and from my Responsive Classroom training in general. There are lots of resources to be found about class meetings (which are applicable to families as well as classrooms) and problem-solving conferences, and I listed a few handy ones at the end of this post. I've internalized my own version of each of them over the years which I am sharing here.

 

Here's the format of each method and examples of when to use them.

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One-on-One Adult-Child Problem-Solving Conversation

Examples of Times to Use It:

Your child is never ready to go out the door on time.

Your child always leaves their wet towel on the floor.

Your child habitually uses the bathroom for a long time during dinner time.

Your child leaves belongings strewn all over the house. 

Your child interrupts a lot.

Your child bites their nails.

Your child says hi barely audibly when they see people they know in public.

Your child regularly forgets their household chore(s)

Format of One-on-One Problem-Solving Conversation:

Link to a Google Doc outline of steps below here. 

1. Say what you (the adult) have noticed happening. As much as possible, describe the situation in a non-judgmental tone, just the facts. (For example, I've noticed a few times lately that when we see people we know and they say hi to you you answer so quietly that it's hard for them to hear or understand you.)

2. Ask if the child has noticed this, too. Usually, they have. 

3. Ask if the child has any ideas why this is happening. This is a time when shockingly simple solutions sometimes become apparent and the issue turns out to be an easy thing to fix. (For example, if the problem is that they never put their games away neatly, you may discover at this point that the reason is because they can't easily open and close the bags and boxes they go in-- in which case a very simple solution is to choose a new storage system together that is easier for them to use.) 

4. Tell the child why the behavior is a problem, who it affects, or the rule(s) it breaks. (For example: wet towels that get left around can stain things, they stink, and it causes us to have to do laundry more often.)  

5. Ask for any ideas they have to solve the problem. Kids often have ideas when you take the time to ask. If further probing is needed, ask what you can do to help with this problem. Ask what the child will do herself to help solve this problem. 

Try to just keep quiet and let them get any ideas they may have out first. The adult can then offer ideas or suggestions too. Make sure you don't present yours as more important. But include any ideas you have that might help. It should be a shared brainstorming session. 

It can be helpful to write down aspects of these conversations as you go, but especially to do so at this point, so you can both see and look over the ideas that have been mentioned. Every idea floated, unless absolutely unsafe or impossible, should be accepted and listed at this stage. Censor as little as possible and get as many ideas down as possible. 

6. Weigh the pros and cons of the ideas listed and agree on one (or a combination) to try. Look at all the possible solutions and discuss them or rule out as needed. Choose one to agree to try. Talk briefly about how you'll both know the plan is working and make a rough plan for when you'll check in about how it's going. 

7. Follow up: after a week, or a reasonable amount of time to have tried the solution, has passed ask the child how they think it is going. If it is going well and the problem is better, great! If it hasn't helped or hasn't helped enough, look back at the brainstormed ideas and choose something else to try also or instead. Repeat as needed with a problem-solving, we-can-figure-this-out-together mentality.  

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Family Problem-Solving Meeting

Examples of Times to Use it:

When you're tired of ongoing problems such as:

House is messy

No one comes to dinner when called

Morning routine feels hectic

Fighting in the car

Rushing/fighting to get to a certain seat at the table or in the car

Playing too roughly in the house

Or proactively/preventatively when looking ahead at potential challenging situations:

How to make an upcoming week at grandma's go well?

How to make a friend who is coming over feel welcome?

What should we do when out to dinner at that fancy restaurant Friday night so everyone will have a good time?

Format of Family Problem-Solving Meetings
Problem-solving group meetings are essentially the same process as above, except it's not focused on one individual's problematic behavior, but rather on a recurring situation or time of day that is not going well in the family (or classroom) at large. It involves interactions among people; there are more moving arts. Everybody needs a chance to air their grievances as well as to share their ideas and solutions. As noted in the examples above, group meetings can also be super useful when we hold them proactively before a situation that is likely to be tough. (In my former first-grade classroom, I often held a class meeting a day or two before a substitute was to teach in my place, and I think it cut down-- at least a bit!-- on problematic substitute-teacher behavior and helped them all have a more productive day than they might otherwise have had.) 

Some basic rules for these meetings are important to establish and review each time: Don't interrupt each other. Use an "I" voice; say how things make you feel, not what you assume about others-- which is another way of saying don't place blame. 

In our home we recently had a meeting about our family dinner times, and particularly some recurring tension that cropped up at the end of them. See our situation and examples from our meeting below. 

Link to a Google Doc Outline of steps below here. 

1. State the problem(s). The adult says what they notice and why it's a problem.  

Everybody eats at different speeds. W eats fast and then is fidgety and wants to get up the moment he's swallowed his last bite. M eats more slowly and seems to get distracted by different things (including being distracted by the fidgetiness and things W does when he's bored and done eating) and we are all usually waiting for her to finish. Dad and I are trying to teach table manners and we sort of feel that we all should stay at the table till everyone's done. We feel nagged by W asking over and over if he can clear his plate. We  want M to have the time she needs but we also get a little bored when we are waiting for her to finish for a long time. Sometimes it even seems like M is going slowly at the end just to annoy W. We feel bad about the whole situation because dinner should be a pleasant time and it isn't at the end. 

2. Gather information from the group. Ask what everyone else notices and what's hard for them. 

M does not like when W tells her to hurry up-- it's annoying! If it's food she doesn't like as much, she eats slower. Sometimes she wants seconds but we sometimes say no if we've been already waiting. 

W feels bored out of his mind. He wants to get up so he can go read and do other things with his evening and not run out of time for those things because he has to sit at the table forever.  

3. Brainstorm solutions. Have the whole group brainstorm ideas of how to make the situation better. Make sure everyone gets their turn to talk and say everything they want to say. (Boy oh boy, did my kids have strong feelings and therefore a hard time waiting their turn to say their piece during our meeting). Accept and write down any ideas unless unsafe or impossible.  

If we have things M thinks are yummy for dinner she would eat quicker. 

Have a set time W can always get up by even if others aren't finished. 

Have a set total length of time for dinner and when that time is up dinner is over, done or not.

Give a 5 minute warning at the end of dinner. 

4. Choose a solution to try.  Talk together about which ideas seem the best or most likely to work and agree on one, or a combination of a couple, to try. Make sure everyone can agree to try it. Make sure it's realistic/feasible. Make sure it respects everyone involved.

We decided to try a combination of things, including giving a warning when dinner is over and Mom getting at least one dinner idea from M each week for something she thinks is yummy and wants to eat. But the main thing we chose is a length of time for dinner. We wanted it to be a generous amount if time to be realistic for M and not cause her to feel pressured to eat fast, but also something a bit more efficient for her to learn to work with that felt workable for the rest of us. We chose 40 minutes with a plan to set our time timer (by the way: these are incredibly handy tools) for that length of time so everyone could be aware of how much time is left.   

5. Make a plan for how you know whether the strategy is working or not and when you will check in again. 

We decided to see how it was going in a week. 

6. Check back in and adjust the plan as needed. When you check in some days later, decide if everyone thinks the problem area is getting better. If so, great! Keep going. If not, go back to the drawing board and choose another or an alternate solution to try. Repeat as needed.  

The general consensus was that everyone was liking the new plan. There was little or no pestering from W, which M and the parents both appreciated. W was usually getting the time he wanted in the evening after dinner. M usually had enough time to finish what she wanted and when she didn't it was only a couple bites she had to toss or save as leftovers for another time. We all knew an end time for dinner was in sight and didn't feel like we had to wait as long. W was more often able to have conversations when he was done rather than fidget and be preoccupied with when others would be done. We've mostly loved this plan ever since. But it hasn't been all perfect. Sometimes we forget to set the timer. Sometimes W gets in the habit of pointing out or telling M how much time is left which she doesn't like and we remind him is not his job. Sometimes sports mean is is already a late night when we sit down and we don't feel like having a 40 minute dinner (and maybe M has become a little more focused in her eating too) so we set the timer for less. Overall it helped!

A few final notes:

These strategies-- group meetings and one-on-one problem-solving conferences-- have been invaluable in my professional and personal life. As a classroom teacher I often relied on these problem-solving strategies and found them to be so much more productive, and feel so much more respectful, than other methods of dealing with inevitable classroom behavior problems. Kids are excited to have their problems paid attention to and to be given the chance to give their input. They'd storm in from recess, saying "I have something we NEED to talk about at the next class meeting." I never had a shortage of agenda ideas jotted down when our weekly class meeting day rolled around, which students looked forward to. We all need opportunities to have our grievances heard. 

When I take the time to have a one on one conference-like chat with one of my kids at home, or call a meeting when something has come to a head, everybody seems to leave the conversation feeling more positive. I've seen problem areas improve, if not go away altogether-- sometimes with comically simple solutions, and sometimes after several iterations of trying a solution and failing and trying something else. 

In some cases there are other, bigger underlying factors at play, whether ADHD or extreme introversion or medical issues or anxiety. So of course some problems with kids and families can not be solved by a simple, thoughtful conversation. But many can. And it won't hurt to try. 

These problem-solving strategies are closely tied in with the language we use with kids: our words and tone-- and listening fully-- matter. 

Also, when we choose to tackle a problem matters. In the moment is often not a productive time to try. The right moment is often later, separate from the heat of the moment, when we can sit down and give everyone a chance to say their feelings and work it out together. It's about being proactive rather than reactive. The goal is to walk away on the same page with a plan, so that it might actually go better the next time.

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Other Resources about Family Meetings (Class Meetings) and One-on-One Problem Solving Conferences:

Article on Teacher-Child Problem-Solving Conferences (equally applicable to parent-child situations)

Sample Problem-Solving Conference Format/Planning Guide

Sample Class Meeting (i.e. Family Meeting) Format/Planning Guide

Homeschool Year Three: (Still) Finding our Rhythm

  

This summer, my youngest learned to swim. She can now keep herself afloat for a significant distance without a life jacket. I found myself thinking about the fact that swimming is a huge milestone, and we didn't teach her to do it. We gave tips, cheered, encouraged, but there was nothing we could do, no matter how much we wanted to, to make it happen. When she was ready and believed she could, she stayed afloat. 

I watched her process of learning to swim through a different lens because I had recently read How Children Learn, whose basic premise was: do less teaching and just let kids learn. There are so many things kids learn when they are ready, that we can only give support when they falter or when they ask-- like walking, and riding a bike. And not just physical things, but psychological/developmental growth, too, like getting over fears. (Early this summer, a friend of my son's released a crayfish into our swimming hole, and ever since, M has been clingy and nervous about where the "crab" was every time we went swimming, no matter how much we tried to reassure her that it wouldn't hurt her and had probably gone downstream by now. Yet when she was ready, it was in the space of a couple of days that she abruptly decided to stop worrying about the crayfish and learn to swim all at once.)

What about school, or "book learning?" Would my son have ever memorized all his state capitals like this-- on his own, when he was ready-- without my making him do it? Maybe, if he for some reason was inclined to do so, and maybe not...Then again, what does it really matter if he memorizes state capitals, and how long does that kind of learning last, anyway? 

I've often pondered how some kindergartners and first graders arrive at school already strong readers. But most of those same parents didn't sit down and teach them. All they did is live their literate lives, reading to their kids and talking to them, and those kids were interested enough and exposed enough to figure out reading for themselves. (As a sort of side note, this makes me think of the wild finding from the book Freakonomics that simply having a lot of books in a home-- not reading to your child every day-- correlates to a child's higher test scores in school.) 

With a lot of skills, especially when kids are young, it seems there comes a point that they want to do it enough, and are driven to try enough that they learn. How many things that we sit kids down and school them in over the years, could be learned naturally like this, when they are ready-- even quickly or all of a sudden, like my daughter's swimming?    

These are some of the big thoughts I had this summer as I anticipated our third year of homeschool. 

Then I read another book called Unschooled. This is a book that I had turned my nose up at in the past. But I was ready to see what this book was all about, even though I felt by reading it I was playing devil's advocate and it wasn't really written for the likes of me. 

But, it was another I needed to read. I don't agree with everything it said, but found myself aligned with the author and the points she was making so much more than I expected to. It made me think a lot about what an education is, versus schooling-- not one in the same. It made me think about how much freedom teachers and parents don't give kids, but maybe could: not license to do whatever they want, but freedom to make choices as long as they are respectful of others. It made me think again, more deeply than I had before, about how important it is to let kids follow their interests rather than adults always deciding for them what must be learned. It made me ponder the value of kids' time and how I want them to feel about their childhoods. 

These books, and especially Unschooled, were something of an awakening. I had had some of these ideas in the past, questioning the value of all the time kids spend on traditional schooling and on structured, scheduled activities, but I hadn't fully acknowledged all of them... 

As a teacher, I didn't see it as a big problem when families occasionally took kids out of school for family activities, even though it was formally frowned upon. I felt that an extra day with visiting grandparents from out of town or memories from a family vacation were probably more important for that child than my math or phonics lessons that particular week. 

As a working parent my son had almost no free time/down time/play time during the week. His after-school program had the kids sit and do homework immediately after giving them a snack-- and often not even actual homework, but random worksheets they photocopied to fill the time when the teachers hadn't assigned anything. I always wished instead that he could have gotten outside and burnt off steam at the end of the school day. There was so little time in his young life when he wasn't doing school and I never felt at peace with that. 

I loved when the school where I worked stopped assigning homework to all elementary students K - 5 (following guidance from research showing that it doesn't have a positive impact at that level)-- thereby doing a small part to give kids a little time in their day for other interests and for play. 

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Two years ago, when we started homeschooling, I was doing school at home because that was comfortable and familiar. I had not set out then to "unschool" my child; I wanted him to be schooled better. I knew things about what I thought good education should be and I did those things. My teaching was consistent, it was sequential, I made sure to include everything that "should" be included for a then-4th grader, I had great programs to help do the job, we had a school-like schedule. But my view of education, and where I am as a teacher and a homeschool parent has changed. I've had a lot happen since-- a pandemic, beginning to homeschool two kids instead of one, learning the types of skills my particular kids needed to spend time practicing and those they simply didn't that we could skip, beginning to realize that the learning and the memories that have been most special and most lasting are the projects and all the other unique things we've done.  

Some time ago I started consciously trying to let my kids be in charge of the little, personal things and other decisions in their lives when possible, to help develop self-esteem and responsibility (inspired by other good books I'd read). But as homeschoolers, they have agency over more and more now. W sat with me and helped draft a list of the topics he really wants to study in history this year. They're both helping to select the types of writing they want to do. We've made pro and con lists together as we decided whether or not to register for various programs, classes, and other opportunities that have come up so far. I wanted to know their big wishes for the coming year. I always tell them that if our daily routine isn't working well, we can change it at any time to make it better.     

My son began his homeschool career in August of 2019 feeling different, and angry with me for changing his whole world. Now he's a big homeschool proponent; a child who speaks up about his education and his interests; a person whose skills, interests, and social world have expanded and diversified; who thanks me regularly for the choices I let him make and for the things we do. Seeing him being happier, seeing him literally learning how to learn and coming to care about his learning, are the biggest indicators that I am on the right track in my ongoing evolution as a homeschool parent. 

So, as we started off our new year, I had all of this in mind and also that:

I want to focus on their strengths more than their weaknesses. It is in working on something that drives them that they grow confidence, and get better at all things. I wonder if my son may be a writer, actor, comedian, animal trainer, or historian and my daughter a doctor, dancer, engineer, or musician-- or more likely something I haven't fathomed yet. I don't want to do anything to squash those current leanings of theirs, so I want to pay attention more to what feels important to them now and less to the learning sequences I've selected. I've seen that learning from interest sticks and can lead to so much more unique learning that I can't predict. I know I have to allow some big stretches of time for that.

I also know that we all benefit from some routine, and that there are some topics they may never set out to study on their own but that I want to make sure they get some regular practice in (such as math, writing).

...So my current way to make sense of all this is a homeschool schedule that is half days. I never thought I would be advocating a 4-hour school day! But half days aren't really half days; they're full days, only half scheduled with traditional school stuff. The morning is academics, mostly driven by me (albeit with their input wherever possible), while the afternoon is more driven by them and where I am test-driving the "unschooling" mentality. I wanted to give them the gift of time: a wide open afternoon every day for them to have the space to do what's important to them. 

Of course those empty afternoons quickly got sprinkled with activities: there's PE class at the local school a couple times a week, and instrument lessons, and now soccer in the evenings. It's easy to become overscheduled and I think it's a parental duty to intentionally say no to some things. But so far this schedule is working great. This schedule still allows big chunks of afternoon with which they get to decide what to do. Sometimes I offer up an art project or other activity, but in our first few weeks of school so far they have filled most afternoons with a great variety of things they've felt inspired to do-- M has crafted a birdfeeder and a train out of wood and wood glue literally all by herself, while W has fallen down rabbit holes of research into personal interests (never thought I would know so much about animal pelts, knife safety, and taxidermy...). They've both enjoyed hobbies, playing outside, reading, board games, hikes, play dates. I am not worried my kids won't learn during an unscheduled afternoon, because I know my kids. I'm always impressed by the things they dream up and accomplish when they are given uninterrupted time (and available support and resources from me as needed). The things they do don't need to have a clear, immediate purpose to me; I feel like the purpose of carving out the afternoons for them is to value their motivations and interests and see where they lead. As a grown "unschooler" says in Unschooled said, "The biggest difference between school or school-at-home and unschooling is being willing to trust the child." It's true that in general the more I've trusted my kids, the more trustworthy/productive/respectful they are. 

I know it's a privilege to be able to make decisions such as these about my kids' educations and how they spend their day-- and I'm taking advantage of it! This year feels like the right balance and a good rhythm for us so far but I'll keep you posted. Happy new (school) year to all!

The Best Parenting Books Ever

You know how once in a while you read a book that is so good, it changes you? That's how I feel about How to Talk so Kids can Learn at Home and in School by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish. 

I was first introduced to How to Talk so Kids can Learn as a teaching intern. The strategies in it were eye-opening, and felt so real and sensible. It awakened in me a consciousness of my words and tone, and the fact that choosing them wisely could make a big difference. In a way, it altered the course of my teaching life, causing me to have conversations with supervisors, and enroll in courses all about intentional teacher language and classroom structures that would care for students' social-emotional learning-- before I'd even set foot in my own first classroom. Over the years, my classroom was not always the idealistic community that I'd visualized as a newbie (far from it) and yet I was a much better teacher for having had that teacher-language approach as my foundation and center. 

Now as a parent I appreciate the book in new ways. It is the best parenting book, and one of the most affecting non-fiction books, that I've ever read. I think every parent and teacher should read it (an opinion evidenced by a peek at my past Amazon orders, which reveals that I have purchased this book at least five times to give as a gift for baby showers and gift exchanges). 

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Must-Read Parenting Books

Years later, as a parent, I eventually read two more books by the same authors as How to Talk so Kids can Learn: How to Talk so Kids will Listen and Listen so Kids will Talk and Siblings without Rivalry: How to Help your Children Live Together so you can Live Too-- all three long titles for books that manage to teach exactly what they promise to teach. Faber and Mazlish have co-written a number of other books too. Their different books might have different focuses (siblings/little kids/teens or school/home) but they all are written in the same encouraging, down-to-earth style and embrace the same philosophies around adult language strategies and the effect they have on kids. The three I own and love are described below.   

How to Talk so Kids can Learn at Home and in School-- Problem-solving with kids instead of for them. The importance of and strategies for naming their feelings. Using alternatives to punishment that actually help children learn from mistakes/misbehavior. Describing kids' actions and accomplishments so they can come to their own conclusions and grow instead of evaluative praise (fantastic/you're a good girl/you're so smart) which can cause self doubt. These are some of the huge mental shifts that this short and sweet book introduced me to and I highly recommend it.  

How to Talk so Kids with Listen & Listen so Kids will Talk-- This book includes all the same pointers as the one above but has additional priceless sections such as that on how to encourage autonomy (I've been trying to let my kids have control over more of the many small decisions in their lives, among other strategies, ever since I read that).  

One gem in this book is "Resist the temptation to 'make better' instantly. Instead of giving advice, continue to accept and reflect on your child's feelings." Here's one story: when my son was younger, I was guilty of trying to make better instantly all the time. He'd tell me about an issue on the playground or a complaint about his teacher and I'd talk and talk and talk to him about the situation and what he could do, feeling that this was my role as a parent, to try to advise and fix it. After one of these talks, I'd tell myself that I had helped even though I knew his eyes had glazed over and the conversation had revolved around my feelings and thoughts rather than his. Here's a different experience in contrast: just the other day he was expressing some recent frustration around practicing the piano. I asked him to tell me more about it, restating and naming his feelings now and then to clarify, saying only "mmm" a lot just to make sure he'd vented all he wanted to say, and eventually asking him for ideas of what he thought might help, being sure not to discount any of the suggestions right after he said them. And before I even thought the conversation was over, before we'd come up with a game plan or solution, he was already noticeably more positive, and profusely saying, "Thanks so much for talking to me about this." All I'd done was listen, act like his feelings mattered, and let him think aloud. But it was a proud moment when I got it right and a perfect example, for me, of how much more effective is this style of interacting with kids about their problems compared with the tack I used to take in the past. (I'll say also here that much of the enlightened advice in this book about how to foster good communication with kids is relevant and useful with coworkers, friends, and spouses as well.)

 

Sibling Rivalry: How to Help your Children Live Together so you can Live Too

This book fits right in with the others but with a sibling angle (for example, how to accept and name kids' feelings about a sibling). But it brings in a lot of unique points. There is a chapter about the dangers of comparing a child to his sibling, either favorably or unfavorably, and alternatives that motivate better. Also, the idea that fair treatment doesn't mean equal or the same for all parties; instead fair means everybody having their unique needs met. (I knew this as a teacher in the classroom but somehow needed to relearn it as a parent of two at home.) When it comes to my time, base it on who needs me more right now. As far as sibling fights, I'm not saying it always goes swimmingly around here, but I have gotten tons of mileage out of beautifully simple tips such as attending to the injured party first and the aggressor later. And I often try to "step in so I can step out" when they are arguing-- essentially, hearing and appreciating the difficulty of the problem at hand, but communicating that I have faith in them to find a way to work it out that works for both of them and then giving them space. It's heady stuff for any parent of siblings.

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All three of these books I've described are quick reads. Chapters are written in a conversational tone, not an academic one, around specific, relatable situations that come up with kids-- messes, forgetfulness, frustrations with school work, fights. There are comic strips in every chapter, highlighting effective ways to communicate with kids in direct comparison to less effective ways, such as in How to Talk so Kids can Learn: "Instead of Denying Feelings" (page 28)..."Put the Feelings into Words" (page 29), with examples of each. There are summarized bullet points at the end of each chapter-- I wouldn't mind having all of these reminder pages plastered all over my house so I'd never forget them. There are also sections of questions sent in by parents and teachers, and the authors' answers to them. 

All three of these books have the same big themes to them: recognizing kids' feelings, using descriptive language, improving parent-child relationships, helping kids develop self esteem as well as responsibility and other skills. Faber and Mazlish aren't the only ones to write that adult language with kids matters, but their strategies are so sound. The language practices they espouse are also imbedded within the guidance of many other smart and influential voices on raising or educating children (see, for example, Carol Dweck's growth mindset work as well as advice for parents raising a quiet kid from the book Quiet).  

Evolving the way we talk to kids is hard and it takes time. In a teaching course once, I was taught a tip for working on improving teacher language: record your voice working with kids throughout the day, then go back and re-listen to yourself to study where you've succeeded and where you could improve on your goals. I could never bear to go so far as to record and listen to myself, but I see the point. In trying to embody these strategies, I mess up, all the time. There are so many situations in any given day that just come up that we have to react to (or consciously choose not to react to). It's good to be aware of those knee-jerk reactions that we aren't so proud of at the end of the day, so we can work on building up better alternatives to carry around with us and strive to do a bit better the next day. 

These days homeschooling I'm more convinced than ever that our words and our tone with kids matters-- perhaps more than anything else in parenting. I have one child who is six and another who is ten, and I hope to show both of them I am present and they can talk to me now about anything and feel heard and respected, so that when harder things come up when they're older they will still talk to me (and be willing to listen as well); I find these books a guiding light for big goals like that. 

Parenting for a Growth Mindset

I love to watch my kids solve problems. 

The other day my daughter's teapot was too hot to touch. Ask Mom to pour? Nooooo. She found some nearby gloves to help her manage it. It reminded me of about a year ago when she couldn’t open the flip top on her toothpaste and figured out that a little orange Lego brick separator was all she needed to get the job done. So she kept one stashed in the bathroom for daily utility. We're often impressed by how resourceful and independent she is in little moments like these. 

I get to observe my two kids and the way they learn every day. Like any two siblings, they're different. This time of year, I've been reflecting on their different approaches when they each were learning to ski. 

My son is now, at 10, what I would call an expert skier, both cross-country or downhill, on all sorts of terrain. He is comfortable and confident on skis, and skiing has become part of his identity and something that he, uncharacteristically, likes to show off. But when he was little and learning to ski, whether on the magic carpet, or out on our favorite cross-country ski trails, he whined and fretted a fair amount. When he fell, he sometimes stayed on the ground for a while, grumbling at us/himself/his skis. He was frustrated and didn't know how to manage the fact that it was challenging, and we felt frustrated too sometimes-- with his attitude. 

He was fragile as a learner of that new skill. He taught us we had to tread lightly, being gentle and encouraging, trying to say just the right things at key moments. We tried to remain calm and react to the stumbles as a normal part of learning (or, often, intentionally not react at all), and point out every little bit of progress to build him up. We knew that with practice he would get better and find it more fun (and he did). We kept going out, doing small amounts we thought he could handle to keep it positive. I don't know the exact moment when he switched from feeling frustrated with skiing to feeling super confident. But it is one of our clearest shining examples, and his, of practice and progress over time and how it can dramatically change your relationship with a skill. As a result, to this day, if he's trying to do something new or hard and we see some frustration, there's a good chance one of us will bring up the topic of skiing.

Teaching M, 5, to ski has been an entirely different experience. M goes fairly slowly and falls plenty, but she either laughs or doesn't miss a beat in conversation while she simply gets back up. She generally is not annoyed or surprised by a fall; there's no big emotions that ensue. If she's stuck in an awkward position, we might need to spend a minute discussing where she should put her feet so that she can stand up, but she patiently listens and tries our advice. If she whines we know it really is time to call it a day, because she so rarely does. She is patient and persistent, plugging along at her own speed. When I bit off a little more than I should have distance-wise on a cross-country loop recently and admitted that as the hours wore on and the sun got lower in the sky, she said, "Mommy, you should look at the map better next time," but she didn't melt into a heap or give up; she just kept going, cheerfully. (When we returned home, W openly said something like, "Wow! If I'd skied five miles at her age I wouldn't have been in a good mood afterward!")  

A few years ago, my fellow teachers and I all read as a book study Mindset: The New Psychology of Success by Carol Dweck. My copy has a lot of underlining and scribbled notes in the margins. It made a lot of my observations about how kids are as learners, especially my own children, make sense. The book is based on a lot of research and I strongly recommend it to any parent or teacher. The big idea is that all people have either a growth mindset or a fixed mindset (or something on the spectrum in between). A growth mindset is the belief that you can learn, that you will improve with hard work and practice. A fixed mindset is the belief that your qualities are fixed traits, that we are each born with a certain amount of talent that doesn't change. Each of these have different characteristics and sometimes need to be taught and parented in different ways. 

In learning to ski, my two kids had different mindsets: M had more of a growth mindset, while W showed a fixed mindset. My kids aren't always the way they were then; sometimes it's the reverse. W has grown a lot from the little boy who could have an occasional tantrum on skis, and M has plenty of rough days and stubborn moments. But their varying approaches to learning and working, especially when things are not coming easily, have taught me first-hand about the idea of mindset and the difference it can make. Daily I notice their relationship with challenge, the length of time they stick with something on their own before asking for help, their tolerance for frustration, their willingness to take advice, their self talk. I see mindset when one of them encounters a problem whose solution isn't immediately obvious, or when I set out to present a brand new concept to one of them in math. 

Here are some of the differences discussed in the book that can often be seen with the two mindsets:

Characteristics of a Fixed Mindset

• Belief in fixed traits and natural/innate ability (I'm good at math, or, I'm a bad artist, etc.)
• Fixed ability constantly needs to be proven 
• Afraid of challenge
• Afraid of not being smart
• Want to make sure they succeed
• If things get too challenging, they lose interest
• Feel smart when flawless 
• Don't remember the idea of "yet" (either feel they can or can't do something) 
• Failure can be devastating because it affects identity as being good at this or that
• Avoid learning from failure and sometimes focus on bolstering self esteem instead ("At least I'm better than so-and-so...," assigning blame, or making excuses) 
• Need validation of their worth 

Characteristics of a Growth Mindset 

• Belief in changing qualities 
• Belief that ability is changeable and can be developed through learning 
• Enjoy challenge; challenge and interest in something go together 
• Feel smart when learning 
• Think of themselves as simply not knowing how to do something yet
• Failure can be painful, but doesn't define identity
• Feeling of being more determined when things get worse
• Value what they are doing regardless of the outcome 
• Take charge of their own learning and motivation 
• Ask how they can do things, not whether they can do things 

We all have different interests and things we focus on. There are areas of life in which I have more of a fixed mindset, where I give up pretty quickly and leave it to someone more qualified (high-school science topics and broken appliances come to mind), and other areas where I have a growth mindset, where I am more open-minded and have a habit of reading and delving deeper to improve (parenting, teaching, cooking, to name a few). Most of us are in different places along the fixed-growth mindset spectrum in different areas of life. There are also other aspects of who we are that play into how we tackle situations-- disabilities and individual temperament, for example. But mindset is a big piece of it, and a growth mindset be taught. I want my kids to have a growth mindset attitude toward life, to feel that nothing is beyond them if they work at it. I want them to have perseverance and to understand that worthy enterprises aren't usually easy or immediate. Ever since I read Mindset I have been trying to be aware of the things I do as a parent that could help them along the path of these goals, that might foster or help develop a growth mindset. Here are some strategies I have felt to be effective, and some I was reminded of in rereading my underlining in the final chapters of Mindset. 

Strategies for Fostering or Developing a Growth Mindset in Kids 

• If they want to do something themselves, let them. This takes patience, so
• Build time into your routine so you can allow them to spend ten minutes buttoning their own shirt or tying their own shoes in the morning.
• Let them struggle a bit. Don't jump in too soon. If they are focused and actively trying to figure out that tricky word in their book, let them. If on the other hand they skip over the hard word or toss the book aside, that might be the time to offer a hint or a strategy to keep them going. 
• Regularly point out and describe specific, concrete ways they have grown and changed, whether it is the songs they now know how to play on an instrument or how legible their handwriting is. Physical evidence of their own growth in the form of work samples, pictures, or videos from the past is powerful to kids.   
• Celebrate challenge.
• Use the word and concept of "yet" more often, as it showcases the idea that we are all on a path and our abilities aren't fixed. It makes things feel possible and only a matter of time and learning. (I haven't learned to ride my bike yet, but I am getting there; Someday I'll probably like broccoli.) (There are multiple children's books about this concept-- The Magical Yet; The Power of Yet; I Can't Do that, Yet... I haven't read those-- yet-- but I love the idea behind them.) 
• Rather than praising their talent or intelligence (You're such a great gymnast/You're so smart), focus on naming and praising their effort and strategies. 
• When there are achievements to celebrate (trophies, grades, etc.) connect those to the processes that got them there. (You practiced your spelling words every night this week and you got them all right!)  
• Don't label your kids (i.e. This one's the artist, This one is the scientist).
• Treat mistakes as expected and as opportunities for learning.
• Talk about the new things you are always learning, and model not giving up on things easily in your own enterprises.
• Model seeing your own mistakes honestly, taking feedback, and changing your strategies; tell stories about things that are easier for you now because of your hard work.
• When they struggle, whether with friends or shyness or with learning a particular skill, share your stories of struggle and how you got through it and how it turned out.  
• Talk about your own fixed-mindset areas when they present themselves, and how you are working on them. 
• Give kids regular honest and constructive feedback, both so it will help them improve and because it will cause them to become accustomed to feedback and not see it as negative or as an attack on their character. 
• Dweck writes, "Research shows that normal young children misbehave every three minutes." Don't let kids feel judgement and punishment during those many moments; see their behaviors instead as part of their normal growth process and as moments to teach. 
• Support their own chosen interests and learning.
• If there is talent they admire or idolize, give them tools and help them see the way to get there. 
• Teach them that connections in their brain get stronger, and brain cells grow, when they learn new things. This gives some literal proof and explanation to the idea that things that are at one point hard can become easy-- and that things always being easy isn't something to celebrate because that indicates they aren't learning. 
• Structure some dinner-table conversation around the growth mindset: What is a mistake that taught you something today? What did you try hard at today?
• Read and discuss books with themes of perseverance, hard work, strategy-- and growth mindset. There are many but a few picture-book examples I like are: Rosie Revere, Engineer by Andrea Beaty, Everyone Can Learn to Ride a Bicycle by Chris Raschka, The Dot by Peter H. Reynolds, and The Most Magnificent Thing by Ashley Spires. 

One of the main themes I see in regard to parenting for a growth mindset is, unsurprisingly, that how we talk to kids-- our words and tone, our reactions and interactions-- matter. (And in trying to have the right words and tone, we'll all mess up, but we can have a growth mindset and keep trying and stick with it!) 

We can try to be patient and admiring when they insist on pouring their milk themselves or retrieving something from the top shelf by using a stool. Initiative, problem-solving, confidence, and stick-with-it-ness matter more than spilled milk in the long run. In so many little moments of every day, we have the opportunity to let them try and not to step in too early, to notice the many failed attempts as they inch closer to a goal, and celebrate their efforts when they keep going. I want a struggle with dividing decimals to be seen honestly for what it is, and not as an indicator that they are not good at math (or that math is stupid) and that they might as well give up. We can try to be the type of parents who don't expect new skills or habits to be mastered right away, so kids too will have realistic expectations of themselves and will come to know that progress comes with time and effort. None of us is permanently messy or neat, a good cook or not, a good student or not, a good athlete or not-- it's all a process. We won't all become the best of the best in every area we explore, but we can all improve from where we begin.

Raising a Quiet Kid

When I was a kid, I was bossy with my little sister and the younger children my mom took care of in our home. I was always the teacher when we played school. My family joked about how much I could talk. But my strong opinions and verbosity were saved for home; to the world I was a quiet kid. When my grandmother had a friend visiting, she was irritated with me because I couldn't bring myself to say hello or otherwise interact in a manner that would have made her proud to show me off. I was given a completely sarcastic "most loquacious" award in seventh grade, a new environment where I was anything but. When we visited distant cousins that I seldom saw, I wanted to sit and listen to the grown-ups talk at first. I always had so much fun once I went to play, but it took me time to feel comfortable enough to do so.

    

Our Introverted Child 

Now I have a child a lot like me. We are a household of introverts, but M is at the most extreme end of the spectrum. While she's always been plenty feisty with us at home when needed, and talkative when she's excited, she has always become very quiet in new situations or with new people. 

We first noticed this when she was a baby. Even with family members, whom we saw regularly, she needed time to warm up. She would hide her face, or cling a little tighter when we first got together. We all learned to not try to pass her from person to person right away, not to expect anything from her immediately. If we did, she'd cry and we'd feel badly, and it would only make the adjustment time take longer. 

Fast-forward through many, many experiences like this: 

-M's daycare provider when she was little spoke to me anxiously about M's motor development, saying one day, "She just never moves!" M was indeed slow to learn to walk, but she moved all the time at home. I think she was literally stilled by the stimulation around her at daycare. What exhibited as a motor delay may have been as much a manifestation of her temperament.

-She attended preschool for two years. We could see a lot of growth in her at home, and M often told us stories of what the teachers and other children said and did, including their facial expressions and tones of voice. But the teacher told us in conferences that she couldn't definitively say what M knew or didn't know because it was so hard to get her to speak in class or in testing. It was not until the second year of preschool that they told me she was "coming out of her shell" by doing things like responding during the daily circle time greeting.  

-This fall M was so excited to be doing soccer for the first time and wanted to play all the time at home. But at practice, she jogged in slow motion behind the other children, and was so hesitant to follow the coach's directions that she looked like she was blatantly disobeying a lot of the time. By the very last practice session, she was at last comfortable and it was clear for the first time to other observers that she was having a good time-- running hard, laughing, following instructions to the group. The coach was delighted and asked, "Where has THIS M been all season?" 

She's five now and doesn't need warm-up time when it comes to family anymore (though she does sometimes need help getting airtime since her older brother is just that much quicker to start socializing and tends to have a steady stream of things to say). But, in less comfortable, less familiar surroundings we see the same pattern. The newer or louder the situation is, the longer she is quiet. On the car ride home after an event, she'll talk animatedly about the experience, about which she has observed every detail. Our M is in fact funny, expressive, athletic, musical, and social, but the protective layer around her in many situations seems to also be a distinct part of who she is. 

Our Parent Experience

As a parent it can be easy to get frustrated with these sorts of recurring situations. Teachers and coaches and daycare providers don't know what she is capable of. They don't know how much she is learning, how well she can dribble a ball/play a tune/identify letter sounds/etc. When she doesn't appear to fully participate in the traditional sense, they must think she's not paying attention. Certainly things would be easier sometimes without these challenges. 

But most of the time, out and about and in group situations, we try to not force vocal participation (especially in the moment in front of others), lest it becomes a battle. We also try not to draw attention to M's reticence. Our pediatrician years ago recommended not calling her "shy" because she would hear that as part of her identity and it would make the challenges even more difficult. That made a lot of sense to us and so we don't use the s-word (but of course we can't predict or control when others do). Sometimes we simply respond to direct greetings and questions for her. Otherwise we let situations run their natural course, with others doing the chiming in and M observing, reminding ourselves that it doesn't matter what others think; we know she's taking it all in, whether or not she's speaking. 

There are plenty of times that if we can wait graciously, she joins in when she is ready. Meanwhile, we try to respect her process and-- before or after an outing-- name for her the strategies we notice as effective for her, like, "It seems like it helps you to watch for a while at first before you join in." We positively reinforce when she does happen to respond to a question or participate on her own. We encourage her to smile or wave if she doesn't feel like talking, and we celebrate smiles and waves too. Baby steps are progress. 

We've learned that giving an assist can go along way. I never liked being told to "just go play" when I was little because it wasn't as easy as it sounds, and it isn't easy for M. We got together last winter for a big loud holiday party with about six other families and a herd of children. M didn't know everyone really well and was inhibited to say the least. It was looking likely that she would be my sidekick for the whole evening and I wanted more for her (and me), so I took her hand and we went and sat down with a little boy who is very close to her age who wasn't running with the rest of the kids. With M next to me, I started playing with him and talking to him about the little snap circuits he was playing with, without paying much heed to M at all-- and soon she was speaking for herself and playing with the toys as well. I did a silent cheer and after a few minutes I knew she was stable enough that I could return to the grown-ups in the next room and leave her to play. She had so much fun the rest of that evening and that experience was a big success for her, socially-- and for us, in learning a way to help her when we can recognize that she wants to join in but doesn't know how to on her own. 

In a similar way, her older brother is naturally this sort of social catalyst for M a lot of times. We've seen her joining in with others, or taking risks in general, like bouncing on a trampoline or riding her bike down a big hill, when she wouldn't have done it independently but did because W did it first and made it feel more safe and accessible.   

Sometimes just creating situations where she can be one-one one with someone helps her out of her shell, too. We've had plenty of opportunities to notice over the last few months that FaceTime calls can be hard. When we talk as a group, she whispers things to me a lot but struggles to say much, and she also takes several moments to respond when asked a question. But, if we turn her loose with the iPad and let her just be with one person, like her cousin, alone, her voice is loud and clear and she has a great time, being silly, dressing up, and showing off this or that.  

Her Extroverted Niche

At least since she was two, M has been making us take our seats on the couch to watch one of her "concerts." She sings, dances, plays instruments, and doesn't allow anyone else to sing along or share the spotlight. This seems to stretch beyond play, though. 

Last year M took a dance class and I was pleasantly surprised how quickly M was fully participating. We didn't have to wait weeks or years to see her doing what the teacher was directing her to do, like we had before with swim lessons and since with soccer. She didn't raise her hand or join in with the silliness of the other girls while they did their stretches, but she danced! A little performance for parents with costumes on a real stage was a thrill that she still talks about. We had wondered whether she would get stage fright, but the lights and a room of people seemed to do the opposite for her.  

In playing the violin for over a year, we've seen this phenomenon a lot. She has played for family members and in recitals and she is eager to do so. She even played for her preschool class for show and tell one day (she might not talk to them but she'd play for them!). Sometimes there is a moment after she gets into position and before she starts when there's a slightly longer pause than one might expect, just long enough that I start to wonder if she will freeze, but then she plays the first note and she's off. 

M seems uncharacteristically comfortable on stage. We've found she will perform in situations when she definitely wouldn't have been willing to talk. It seems that music and performance give her voice, and certainly confidence, and those are big reasons her instrument has felt like such a good fit for her. 

How to Teach an Introvert?

M's violin teacher is a calm, soft-spoken person who smiles a lot and has a quiet voice. M has warmed up to her and can work well with her. She fully participates in her weekly lesson in all the ways one might expect. It wasn't always like that and it's been great to see that evolution. But there is also a group component to her violin program. Once a week she has a small group class with a different teacher, who is also kind, but is also louder and speaks quickly. In that setting, even though it's a very small group, M rarely speaks. When the teacher announces a piece they should all play together, M often sort of halfway plays along, her motions stilted and missing some of the notes because her senses are absorbed by watching the others (I'm honestly not sure if the fact that this class is held virtually via Zoom now makes this situation a little better or worse than in the past when it was in person). 

In M's group violin class right now, they are working on a group project: creating a musical story to perform. In one session recently, each of the other children in her violin group class had quickly weighed in to make one decision after another about their story. When it came time for the last decision of the day-- naming the main character-- and M was still not raising her hand or calling out like the others, the teacher called on M. When M couldn't quite bring herself to respond right then on the spot (and I couldn't save her because I didn't want to name the penguin for her), the teacher gave her an "assignment" to make that decision and let the group know by next time. Later the teacher wrote to us saying she hoped it was okay that she called on M even though her hand wasn't raised, saying that she knew M had a lot to offer, and asking our input on the best ways to help her join without causing her stress. I really appreciated that this teacher, even though she herself has a very different personality than M's, was in tune enough to manufacture a way to bring in M's opinions to the otherwise fast-paced oral decision-making process that would have left M out, and that she accommodated by giving think time and letting M submit her input another way. 

This was just a small thing that happened in one class. But it made me think of M's education in general. She'll do sports and lessons for years to come, and at some point she'll attend a school that isn't at home. This instructor had seen M for who she was, problem solved, and worked with us to best suit her. I wished, not for the first time, that I could choose or train every teacher and coach and boss she'll ever have. To develop a good rapport with her and see her strengths clearly: don't make a big deal of her quietness, know that she is actively thinking/questioning/creating in her head even if she isn't participating in traditional ways, know that you need to patiently earn her trust and find creative ways to help her open up and show her skills. Also: she's brilliant and sweet and fun and if all you see is shy and well-behaved, then you don't know her yet.   

My Own Evolution as an Introvert

In high school and college I was keenly aware that other people had dozens of friends while I had just a few close ones. If I tried to be clever or funny on the spot, I never quite hit the mark, but I had good ideas later once I'd had a little time to think. In school it can feel there is a desperate dichotomy of either fitting in or not. Because crowds and gregariousness didn't come naturally to me, I had always felt inadequate. 

Then, as a young adult, I learned more about what it meant to be an introvert. Out of the school setting, I could recognize that those people in the in-crowd weren't superior to me; they were simply extroverts, with a different temperament from mine, one that was fueled by socializing and novelty, and had with it a different set of skills than mine. I love big gatherings now and then; it just takes a lot of energy. I crave downtime afterward to feel balanced again. I could see there was a place for both types of people (and everyone on the spectrum in between) in the real world. While networking and cliques are certainly still part of the adult world, they aren't the only currency that makes one feel worthwhile. As a grown-up it's easier to find and make your own niches that work well for you. I've had my introvert stumbling blocks as an adult, like job interviews and when I have had to present in staff meetings. It takes a lot of self talk to get through it but I get a little better at it, a little more confidence that I'll live through it, each time. Thankfully we can pick and choose our roles in life and work so we are mostly in situations that are not unduly stressful to our personality type. Learning a little about introversion and extroversion made me more comfortable in my own skin, and honest with myself about who I was. I wonder if becoming a grown-up is a bit of a sigh of relief for many an introvert. 

Looking Ahead

While we may always see in M, at times, glimmers of that baby who clung tighter when we entered a new place, she isn't that baby anymore. There is big progress as she grows; her comfort zone and the tools she uses are always evolving. She has made friends through classes and sports, and this fall she would freely trot off to play in the field behind us while we watched soccer games. With several people and situations, she doesn't need time to warm up. She used to just breathe into the phone after asking to talk, but she'll talk now. She gives a big expansive wave to every car that passes us when we go on walks on the dirt road near our house.

With all the progress I see, I still worry. I know there will be more challenging situations ahead that I can't be present for, that will feel bigger than when she didn't move in daycare and didn't talk in preschool. I don't want my daughter to struggle with self esteem when she's older just because she approaches life in a quieter, more cautious way than many. I don't want her teachers to think she doesn't know things and have big thoughts just because she doesn't jump into the fray all the time. I want her to embrace who she is from a young age and focus on the gifts she has, and I want to help her identify strategies that work.  

Advice on Raising Quiet Kids from the book Quiet

With my children in mind, I've been reading for some time a book that was recommended by a friend, colleague, and fellow parent called Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain. I recently finished it. The whole book was good and interesting but the last chapter, on "How to Cultivate Quiet Kids in a World that Can't Hear Them" was the most fascinating and worthwhile. If you don't have time to read the whole book, I recommend reading even just this chapter if you have a quiet child in your life-- and probably most of us do. Here are some of the big lessons I gleaned from it.  

• Respect the way your child is; it is valid. Don't try to cure introversion. Think of it as a learning style. Cultivate the strengths of the way they are.
• Know that there are hugely successful introverts in the world who are successful not in spite of, but because of, their temperaments (the book has many, many examples). 
• Develop strategies for those times when your child needs to step out of their comfort zone for a bit. Talk with them ahead of time about what a situation will be like, and about simple ways they might respond to people to be polite and let them know they are listening, like giving a wave or a smile if they aren't ready to talk. Leave space after new situations like this for downtime. Some thrive on being busy and having lots of activities, but some don't. 
• Try to develop a good sense for the times when your child can benefit from that little push to get over the hump, vs. when pushing them would be too much and would overwhelm them.  
• Know that many introverts will seem reluctant to any suggestion of a new activity or opportunity. Don't force, but encourage them to try things. They need encouragement and little nudges for things that may cause anxiety at first but that they will be glad they did afterward, and bit by bit they will learn from these experiences that it's worthwhile to try things. 
• Help them know and talk openly about what their style is. 
• Stay nearby in new situations for as long as they seem to benefit from your presence. (I noticed early on that M was willing to enter the sandbox or playground or birthday party if she was holding my hand or close to me but not on her own.)  
• Respect and celebrate every small step (eye contact, saying yes to a request to play...). They are all giant strides in the world of a kid.      
• Help purposely set up play times and friendships with kids of similar temperaments or younger children. (We've often found M is more comfortable and quicker to interact with those she perceives as younger or smaller.) 
• Arrive early to new/potentially intimidating situations. It is much harder to have to join an existing active group. 
• Introverts often have one or two deep interests not necessarily shared by their peers. Praise them for these, encourage them, and help them find like-minded communities and friends. 
• Structure group work when it happens so kids have clear roles. But also teach and expect kids to work independently sometimes (I see this one as especially relevant for teachers).
• Give them think time before responding; don't prize speed.  

I've been thinking a lot about all of the smart advice from Quiet lately and hope to keep it in the forefront of my mind. I think this would all be important no matter where M spent her days, but of course right now she spends her days mostly at home as a homeschooler. I feel homeschooling her is doing her a service in a lot of ways. Understanding her temperament and respecting it in the way we do things is one big way I can personalize her education. I certainly don't force group work on her! I try to keep my tone and voice level when I'm frustrated with her because she is particularly sensitive to what she perceives as a "mad voice." I build her interests into the day. We help her find her voice when she needs that help; having an older sibling gives a fair amount of practice. At the dinner table, we try to teach her times and ways that it's okay to interrupt to get a word in. Of course she's not getting as much socialization practice as she could, this year in particular. I do consider that a lot. Then again I don't believe that just the fact of being in an environment with other people necessarily makes you become more socially adept. (Depending on the situation, it may just cause you to turn inward or put up more barriers.) We use the opportunities we have right now to prepare her ahead of time. We encourage and notice all the small steps she makes. She has so many strengths and we focus on those. I hope that by doing her early schooling in an environment where she is highly comfortable and can speak her mind freely and where she can develop confidence will help her in the long run. 

Lessons I've Learned From Our First Homeschool Year

Time flies when you're having fun, and I can't believe how quickly this year has gone. I have loved all the time I have had with my kids and all the ways I have been able to see them learn and grow. This grand homeschool adventure has been a positive change for us in so many ways, from the special activities, to the new routines, to the more frequent conversations about learning that happen in our house. It's been a year of surprises and change and settling in to a new groove. As we wrap up this school year, here are some of the lessons I've learned in my first year as a homeschool parent.

Name in sticks-- preschool is so much fun!

It's all about parenting
This is the biggest lesson I've learned. Homeschool is more about home than about school. My teaching experience helped me have confidence and get started, but it was not the key to homeschooling. Just like in life, for things to go well in our lessons I needed to watch my tone and choose my words carefully. I needed to keep things cozy and friendly and conversational and not to have expectations as if we were in a classroom. To homeschool is not to switch hats between being a parent and teacher; you're always the parent to them. Anything that happens in homeschool can make your overall relationship with your kids stronger, or create a wedge between you. Often this year while I was chatting with another parent and homeschooling came up, they'd say, "I could never do that. I'm not patient enough." I found myself thinking, what's "patient enough?" I am certainly not the most patient person in the world. But I definitely had a lot of practice at becoming more patient this year. I needed to practice the self control to not react quickly in a moment of frustration, but to take the time to think first and try to really understand what my child was feeling. Homeschool gives you the opportunity every day to improve whatever parenting skills you need as you discover what works well in working with your kid and and what doesn't.

Teach your kid, not the lesson
I have gotten to know my children so much better this year. I've been able to hone in on things about them I wouldn't have been able to elucidate as well before. For example, they each have particular strengths and interests I've become more aware of. They have ways they love to learn-- through a story, or humor, or music, for example-- that I can use as tools to engage them. They have particular fears and sensitivities and things that trigger those sensitivities. They each benefit from different strategies when frustrated or needing to calm down. I know how they look when they are paying attention and when they are not. I can predict how they will each respond to new people or a new situation. They have times of day they are more energetic, more open to new ideas and experiences. I think it promotes peace and understanding around the house to regularly notice and name these characteristics as they are-- "I notice when you are somewhere new it helps you to watch for a while before you join in," "It seems that when you need to calm down, one of the things that works best for you is positive self-talk." Kids are fascinating and complex and they are already each their own unique, whole person. There is a lot of value in figuring them out, accepting who they are and how they feel, and keeping those things in mind when planning as well as in the moment with them.

Trying to figure out how to play a song through trial and error.

Fan the flames of kids' interests
There were plenty of things I planned for W to study and learn about this year. But I also wanted him to have time to develop his own interests and be more self-driven in his learning. In a homeschool book I read this year called The Brave Learner by Julie Bogart, I found some good ideas about recognizing and encouraging your children's interests. Through observing my son this year, and having more conversations with him, I realized wars and battles were a big interest to him. One day he summarized the big things he wanted to know: "What were different wars about, and where were they, and who won?" He asked so many questions and we often had to look up the answers. In her book, Bogart suggests doable ways to foster kids' interests-- connecting them with a book or video or friend or class or related material. Kids have lots of fleeting interests but most kids aren't organized enough or don't have the resources to pursue it all on their own. If fostered a little, an interest may still peter out when it has run its course. But who knows what may continue and grow deeper with a little adult awareness and help? So we tried to actively fuel this interest of W's here and there. My husband took him to a Revolutionary War reenactment event in the fall that he still talks about. We started checking out library books on various wars-- some he read and some he just studied the photos, but what questions and conversations he would start afterward! He watched a couple of tame older war movies with his dad. He was a Continental soldier for Halloween. He started to get more specific with his questions and wanted to know about wars in recent history as he came to realize how much warfare has changed since the American Revolution, which we studied in depth. The interest extended to drawing soldiers and battle scenes, and he wanted my help looking up pictures of particular war heroes and events he'd read about. Those little plastic green army guys became a favorite toy, often interspersed them with Lego guys, to act out scenes. He hasn't lost interest yet and he's learned far more than the scope of our history curriculum this year. I had never thought a lot about exactly how to attend to kids' areas of interest before, but I do now. I learned that all kids have interests, and if we are well-attuned to our kids, we can put things under their noses or provide access to things that fan the flames of that interest and may help keep the fire going for longer. Worth doing because when an interest evolves into an area of expertise, they feel confident and more excited about learning in general.

  

Everything is a weapon

You don't have to be an expert in the content
As a classroom teacher, I taught first grade for most of thirteen years. It took me a while to get to know first-grade expectations and standards really well, not to mention typical first-grade behavior. I used to get stressed just thinking about the idea of ever switching to another grade because there would be an entirely new set of things to teach. Yet for this homeschool year, I jumped three grades into fourth-grade content and it was fine (and fun). I'm not saying it has been easy-- I did plenty of reading in the evenings. But once I got a framework for the year planned out (a curriculum map) and picked out which programs, if any, I would be using to help guide me in each area, the year unfurled along with us pretty naturally. I think it helped that I knew some teaching principles in general. But good teaching practices are largely not age- or content-specific. I didn't have to start out knowing a lot about energy or about New Hampshire history in order to teach those things. I just needed to do good research in order to find some of the many excellent resources out there that helped inspire interesting and challenging learning activities. I learned a lot of things right along with my fourth grader this year. If I got to teach fourth grade again, I'd now have a picture of an entire year in my mind and that would make things a bit smoother. But content never felt like an obstacle this year. (If I tried to do high school chemistry in homeschool that might be a different story...)

We discovered the Ring of Fire by graphing data points

We shook and shook and shook some sugar cubes to help understand the process of weathering and why some rocks are jagged and others more rounded.

We can design the day any way we want
This year we have gone through several distinct versions of the daily schedule we follow. In the beginning of the year, I had just one fourth grader. We started the year with a pretty school-like, busy schedule. It mostly worked for us, though things he needed extra practice in or fun enrichment things didn't fit neatly into a box on my schedule. Then in March, my preschooler came home and joined us. I didn't know how to adjust our daily schedule to accommodate a four-year-old, so I just dropped it entirely and we went pretty far toward the other extreme. I made lists for each day that I hoped I might get to with each kid or that my older could do independently. Some days felt more productive and satisfying than others but as a first stab at homeschooling more than one child, I felt moderately successful. Then a few changes happened. My daughter made it clear she would no longer be napping, so I couldn't rely on that one-on-one time with my son for focusing on big-kid school work. Also, our recent lack of schedule had made W less focused and expectations fuzzier for him. I was finding myself nagging him more often to actually get around to his work. So I sketched out not a schedule but a clearer routine that encompassed both kids. We start the day together (with a read aloud and then some yoga or a mindfulness exercise). After that there are certain portions of the morning and early afternoon when I am focused more on one child than another and I try make that clear to them. I make sure W does core subjects in the morning when he is at his best. We also make sure instrument practice happens in the morning because it goes less smoothly later in the day! I go over the general plan with the kids in the morning, as our routine shifts a little each day depending on the specific things on the agenda. This latest routine has worked well for the last month or two, but I'm always dreaming up new things to include in our day, other ways to balance it all. I've learned there's no perfect schedule, but that you can make any day, any week, any way you want. With homeschool we never have to feel stuck in a rut when something isn't working for us or our kids; we can be ready to change the routine at any point to meet everybody's needs a little bit better.

Enjoying an online read aloud together

I never imagined I'd teach preschool this year, but my favorite preschooler made it a lot of fun

Homeschooling multiple kids (even preschoolers) is possible
I thought homeschooling multiples would be just juggling, never giving anybody what they needed. Students within a classroom are at such varied levels as it is, so it didn't seem realistic to teach entirely different ages all at once. And yet, I've found in the last few months that homeschooling two kids together is not chaos or as hard as I thought. It takes thought and planning, as well as rolling with the moment, and I have to accept that since there are more moving parts, there is less predictability and some days work out more wonderfully than others. I have also experienced some enlightenment in regard to multi-age teaching. Even though my kids are almost five years apart, there are moments every day when we can learn together. For one, I've started grounding our day with read aloud and movement, both of which are good for us all at every age. Second, we can always do music and art together, and those things are more fun as a result. Third, there are times when I pencil in an activity idea mostly with my youngest in mind but it is so fun and engaging we all get involved (such as stacking books on some eggs to see how much weight they could hold). Finally, there are learning activities I have planned for my oldest that my youngest can participate in in some way as well-- either the materials might be interesting to her to use in her own way (like linking cubes she was excited to build with when we were exploring 3-D shapes for fourth-grade math), or she can actually do the same activity in a modified way (she draws what she sees outside while W writes poetry about it). Each kid can get different things from a learning activity depending on what stage they are at. Both my kids (like all kids) are more or less mature in various ways. Even though there are standards by grade and I think it's helpful to know them, I've realized age is not such a big deal. I didn't try to have M learn the same things as W when we were working with potential energy, but she could "help" with the experiments and loved playing with the marbles and ramps we built. There is sort of a beautiful completeness in being together even if the goals for each of us are different. Not every learning activity works like this, but I feel I've really won when I find the ones that do.

Rocket launch: exciting and educational for all ages

Math

Just-for-fun egg experiments

We can always do art together

Exercise for all

Fun with marbles and ramps

Homeschooling is good for sibling relationships
Obviously homeschool means siblings are home together more, but I pictured them doing different things and competing for one crazed parent's attention all the time and that didn't seem like it would help a relationship. Thankfully I was wrong. W had experienced homeschool solo and homeschool now and he has said more than once that "It's more fun with her here." I've seen their relationship improve over the last few months. I watched them play happily for at least fifteen minutes with squirt guns in the yard this afternoon, chasing each other playfully, hiding behind a tree to defend themselves, running over to the kiddie pool to reload. I did not have to get involved once and even had the wild thought that I could pick up a book and read at that moment and they might not notice. Last summer W would have begged and begged M to play and then squirted her anyway, causing upset. But now, they are in it together and they are actually playing. There's give and take. W slows down to go his sister's speed now because he know that's the only way the game will happen. M is willing to discuss and compromise and is a little braver about things like a squirt of water in the face. They play together sweetly like this so much more often these days. It is partly that M has grown up and is now able to play with others better, period. And it is partly that other social opportunities right now are still quarantine-limited so they depend more on each other than other friends. But I know it is also because they spend the day together, often getting to learn together, and they have a sense of camaraderie from those experiences. They've had the time and practice to develop rhythms of how to be with one another, as well as a better sense of when to leave one another alone. Also by being together more, their relationship and interactions naturally have become more of a priority. When certain things come up, be it hitting or bossing or jumping to conclusions, we can all discuss the core issue and make a plan to try to improve. They of course have their bad moments and harder days, but they've come to know each other better and have more of a relationship that's all their own, and that feels like a hugely positive and unexpected outcome of homeschool.

Tea party

Embrace the mess
Since sometime after becoming a parent, I've been an admirer of other people's decorated, spic and span homes and a little embarrassed of my own. I wanted to read Marie Kondo's Tidying Up but I knew it would just be overwhelming. Shortly after making the decision last spring that we would homeschool this year, I distinctly remember saying to my husband that another benefit of homeschool would be that I would probably be able to help keep the house looking a little nicer. Well, I ate my words because our house is at least as cluttered or more so than it was before. That homeschool book I read, The Brave Learner, actually had an entire section on this, and I read it thinking: Yes! Thank you! The author points out that when you homeschool, your house is very lived-in and it shows. It becomes a workshop and a playroom and a classroom and a cafeteria. She also pointed out-- and I whole-heartedly believe this-- that there were and will be again times in your life when you can prioritize things like dusting and enjoying more delicate furnishings, but while homeschooling your children isn't it. While I admire tidy and I clean up when things get a little too out of hand, I have accepted I am not at a stage in my life when the tidiness of my house is a top priority and I try not to feel like less of a mom/woman/grown-up because of it. I don't feel frustrated by the constant Legos in the living room or the puzzle on the kitchen table or the bits and pieces carpeting the floor around M's art table or the science and art projects crowding the window sills because those things are my life right now. I only have so much energy and I spend most of it with my kids. I also believe that if I always got all the dishes done and the laundry folded and the odd jobs checked off my list before I started on a project, I would literally never get around to anything creative, ever. I'm at peace with the fact that I can't do it all so I embrace the frequent mess that is part of life and learning with kids.

Value unstructured play more
I always knew unstructured play was valuable. I knew how much fun they could have with dress-ups or in the sandbox or just with a big cardboard box. But I also was aware that there were so many fun things to do and I was always actively planning outings or projects for weekends and summers and vacations. But by homeschooling, I spend enough time planning out the "school" stuff and thinking through the smoothest ways to organize our days, so any time beyond that-- in between things and when it's not school time-- is much more open-ended than it used to be. There's a lot more cardboard getting dragged out of the recycling these days, and glue and tape and scissors, and caring for doll babies, and Lego battles, and obstacle courses and games they create for each other, and bicycle jumps in the driveway, and just pretend. Of course, all this unstructured play means more mess (see above) but I love seeing the creative endeavors they get up to on their own, how focused and imaginative and resourceful they can be, and how proud they are of their creations. 

Homeschool is social
Homeschool is social (and is very different from quarantine). I felt this was so profound that I wrote an entire post about it a few months ago. We made new connections this year through sports and classes and lessons and volunteering. Both my kids made new friends, as did I because of a new homeschool connection I shared with several moms in our area. I reconnected with old friends and my kids got to know their kids. W still cares about his school friends and talks about them and likes to see them, but homeschooling caused his social world to open up and his definition of a friend to broaden beyond one classroom and one age group. Homeschooling has honestly spurred growth for him socially. Worry about missing out on social opportunities and friendships was one of the distinct concerns on our list when we were considering homeschool. But this has been a year defined by connections, not isolation. The socializing we choose feels like higher quality than the daily being together with classmates that my kids would have had in school. Perhaps any big change leaves in its wake a space for new things to grow and I've certainly found that to be true in terms of friendships and other social interactions.

Be a fun adult
My kids don't necessarily need me for anything in particular but the moment I pick up the phone they do. So I just avoid making phone calls when they are awake whenever possible. I also rarely go out to dinner with friends but when I do they get mopey before I leave. They feel sad any time either of us parents has to be away for an evening. I always felt badly about this and missed them when I was gone for an evening. But this year I've realized a new take on things like this, with a little help from that same book, Brave Learner, that taught me a couple of other lessons. As a parent, and especially as a homeschool parent, I am one of the main and most important role models for my kids of what it means to be an adult. We can all joke about how adulting is hard or we're sick of it but I realized that's a message to be conscious about and make sure I am not broadcasting to my kids. I want them to enjoy being kids but I don't want them to dread being an adult or think it is all work and no play. I want them to see that I have things I enjoy as a person and things adults do just for fun. I'm more open about the fact that that my husband and I watched a movie after they went to bed the previous night. I try to show them the things I get excited about and not always cave to their wishes when mine differ. I am less hesitant about picking up a book of my own in front of them even though it's unlikely I'll read it more than a moment. Part of what I am teaching them, whether I realize it or not, is an outlook on life and adulthood. I want them to see it as fun and interesting and creative and social, as well as busy. I'm not yet a member of a book club and I haven't picked up any new hobbies lately. I think my girls' nights out once every month or two leave me plenty of room to grow in this area, but being a fun adult for the kids' sake is something I've become aware of and it's fun to work on.