Think Outside the Box Thursday: When To Cling to Your Roots and When To Go Out on a Limb

And Other Life Lessons Learned from Trees

This lovely piece of group artwork was
created by a former preschool class of mine. It
is a lovely reminder that each individual plays a
beautiful and vital role in making a classroom
(or family) thrive and grow!

 Whether you are a parent or a teacher (or both), we all know the feeling: the feeling of having created the perfect lesson plan only to have it totally bomb! As a classroom teacher, while mildly unsettling, I never found it particularly challenging to restructure an activity in the moment or just toss it aside altogether and move forward. As a homeschooling parent, that is sometimes more challenging for me. Lesson plans are like brain children to me. They are a part of me into which I pour my blood, sweat, and tears. And perhaps the only thing I am more attached to than my brain children is my actual child! So when interactions between the two go less than smoothly, it is a feeling I can only imagine might be akin to the frustrations of sibling rivalry. And so, when things in our homeschool environment do not go as planned, I must play both the role of teacher and mother and decide when I should stand firm and dig my proverbial roots into the ground and when I need to bend with the winds and go out on a limb.

Yesterday our morning began with a Table Time activity. My son loved reading through this interactive booklet together (you can find and print your own copy here) as we identified objects in his collection from our Nature Scavenger Hunt the day before. He loved seeing how bark rubbings work and trying it out himself. We added a variety of stickers to the pages and doodles and dictations.

We went through our typical morning routines with all of his usual enthusiasm. He requested to sing our Parts of a Tree song and we had a lot of fun playing our roll-the-die gross motor tree game again. He was eager, as usual, to bring his school bag over and see what was inside. But when he pulled out a copy of Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree, he opted to put it away on his bookshelf instead of reading it together and doing the activity I had to go along with it. I tried to encourage and invite him back, but I felt that if I pushed too hard, it would be met with resistance and create an unnecessary battle in that moment. I tried to assess what my son's needs were in that moment and I felt he needed a break for some open play time. He had some fun playing in his kitchen area and while he did so, I also had a break to regroup and rethink. Perhaps he would engage in the story and activity if I approached it in a different manner. So rather than inviting him back to sit on my lap and hear me read the book, I invited him back to come watch it being read by someone else on YouTube. He loved it! 

 He spent some time engaged in vertical work at his tree mural hanging on our pantry door. While he was there, he noticed the Bird World sensory bin on his shelf. Its lid was still on but he peeked through the clear bottom of the bin and said, "Not scary!"
 If you spend a good chunk of time with my little guy, you will likely hear him say those two words about a lot of things--namely, the doctor, the vacuum cleaner, the food processor, the electric steam mop, getting his nails clipped, firefighters with their gas masks on, dogs and any number of other novel experiences in his world. "Not scary," in fact, is his way of communicating that he is afraid and in need of reassurance. We work with him on his anxieties and I am mindful not to say "no, it's not scary" when to him, these things really are! Instead, I use language like, "the doctor is someone who helps us stay healthy. He is safe." Or "the vacuum is loud, but it helps us clean the floor and it is safe." I focus on conveying to him that he is safe and we are there to support him. I do not want to invalidate his fears and anxieties but I also do not want him to be plagued and paralyzed by them.
So I took down the bin, opened it up and showed him what was inside. He was TERRIFIED of the birds. My internal reaction wavered between frustration and amusement. He was with me when we bought these bird figurines in the floral department of the Dollar Tree. I was feeling rather attached to what I thought was a fabulous small world setup--one he could really explore and abstractly expand upon. I explained that the birds were not real. They looked very realistic, but they were made of Styrofoam and plastic and even craft feathers like the ones we had used. I showed him that the pine cones were real and the wooden tree disks were real parts of a tree branch. The bird seed was even real and could actually be eaten by birds outside, but these birds were not real. They were not alive and never had been and never could be. We could only pretend with them and play with them and they were safe; Mommy and Tatty would not bring something into the house that was not safe. He wanted me to take the bin away, but I also sensed that in this scenario he needed support to overcome his obstacle rather than to avoid it altogether. I agreed to take it away if he would like, but first I wanted him to touch one bird with one finger. He was nervous and resisted at first, but then, with my hand holding his, he touched one bird with one finger, and then another, and then began playing--and then had a wonderful time. It definitely felt good to see him enjoy an activity I had put time and thought into--but for me, the big win was seeing his confidence after he overcame a fear.

We finished our morning with some play activities from the STEAM cart. He loved making shapes with the wooden tree disks. I modeled stacking them to make cylinders, how to create a smiley face and even set out his recycling bin as well to see what he might come up with combining the two in an impromptu building activity.

As parents and/or educators, we are faced again and again with plans that don't go as, well, planned. You made an amazing dinner guaranteed to satisfy everyone at your dining room table only to be faced with cranky and dissatisfied customers. You planned a fun family outing only to arrive and your kid wants to go home after five minutes. You created the perfect craft or project or activity--one sure to please the crowd--and instead, you lose them altogether. What do you do? When do you push forward? When do you pull back? And when do you just let go?

Building with wooden tree disks and recycled materials.

 I believe there are times we do one or the other and times we do all three. But before deciding how to approach it, there are a few key steps I like to take:

• Assess the reason for resistance: What could be contributing to a child avoiding or resisting an activity? Is he bored? Is she hungry? Is it too difficult or too easy? Is he afraid or anxious about something? Is she feeling ill? Did you give an adequate explanation of the activity and what to do? Did you use too much language or not enough? Does the child need more support and involvement or more space and autonomy?
• Assess the child's need in the moment: Does he need a break to play? Does he need a snack? Does she need more attention or support? Does she need an opportunity to get moving or get outside? Does he need a change of scenery? 
• Assess your own role and reactions: Do you need a break? Do you need to eat? (Sometimes these two sneak up on me!) Do you need to accomplish this right now or can you come back to it later? What is the goal and intention of the activity? What would success look like? 
• Decide on an approach: Now it's time to decide on an approach. Note that you may need to try more than one--this is kind of the troubleshooting stage. Perhaps you explain the activity again. Perhaps you opt to take a break and return again later. Sometimes a tweak in your tone or expression can make a difference. Sometimes naming your frustration can be a huge asset in being able to let go of it yourself while simultaneously modeling this skill for young ones. On the other hand, there are occasions when it is beneficial to push through and firmly encourage participation. You must weigh the risks and benefits. What would the child(ren) get out of completing the task at hand and what would be the detriment of not doing so? On the other hand, would the expense of pushing forward outweigh the reward? There are times that you will be able to tweak and adjust and adapt toward success and other times you may have to abandon ship altogether.
• Evaluate the scenario: When all is said and done, I think it is important to evaluate the scenario again. What might have contributed to the challenge? Was it something avoidable (like waiting too long to eat or take a break--and this goes for both the kids and the grownups!)? Or was it something that was unpredictable (like a newfound phobia of toy birds)? This is not an invitation to be hard on yourself, but rather an opportunity to see your successes. What did you do well? You had great intentions. You put in astounding levels of creativity, productivity, and flexibility. Pat yourself on the back. Stand tall and proud like a tree, be content with your natural beauty and enjoy the view!

He decided this was a blender and he was mixing a smoothie!

Happy Playing!