She Can Be Taught

My parenting/homeschool philosophy is pretty laid back.  If it weren't for the fact that people keep asking where Violet goes to preschool, I wouldn't even bother with labeling myself a homeschooler (yet).  I guess I agree with the Scandinavian tradition of delaying formal education until six or seven. 

Of course, we do all sorts of preschool-like activities. It's not like I sit around eating bon-bons all day while Violet watches Sponge Bob. I have a stubborn strong-willed child and she learns best when I get off her back at her own pace.  Bribery, rewards, threats and peer pressure are all completely ineffective . Violet only absorbs what Violet finds useful.  Hmmm, just like adults do.

So, when Violet developed an interest in the letters of her name, we showed her how to write it herself.  It turns out that my sweet little boo doesn't care for the letter I, but we're working on it.  In the meantime, Violet discovered that her pet name "Boo" and what a ghost says are, in fact, the same thing.  Violet loves "spooky" stuff.  I wrote out BOO for her one day almost a month ago and although she initially refused my request to write it herself, I could tell a spark was lit.

Last night I found these sticky notes in various places around the house.  There were also a bunch of rough drafts crumpled on the floor in the craft room.

When a lesson seems to have been learned purely by accident I usually look at Aaron, pretend to shake imaginary dust from my hands and exclaim, "School's done for the day." 

I'm going to go eat some bon-bons now.

Wardrobe Wednesday: Flash Back Edition

Okay. So that's me on the right (looking remarkably like a strawberry-blond Violet) and that's my sister in the diaper (looking like a baby boy) and that's my Dad. I know, I know. You were thinking Paul McCartney, but I assure you, it's my Dad. 

Anywho... This post is not about how ridiculously cute I am in my 1970s running apparel. No, it's about the couch.  You see, if you were to swap out tiny me for full-size me (ditto for my sister and Dad) the photo would look EXACTLY the same.  Well, maybe that pillow wouldn't be there and my sister probably would NOT sit in Dad's lap, but you get my meaning.  This couch and that tastefully off-white wall color have not changed in thirty years.  In fact, the orange velvet couch hasn't aged a bit.  My Grandmother has toyed with the idea of getting rid of it for as long as I can remember, but dammit if that couch doesn't refuse to wear out. Not that I want it to go away. Quite to the contrary.  While I may be a champion of change in the world at large or even in my own house, I do not approve of change at Grandma's house.  When the marbled, orange, shag carpeting that once sat beneath this very couch gave it's last dusty breath, I insisted on getting a souvenir hunk.  I framed it.  Come over some time and I'll show it to you. 

Some things just never go out of style.

Wardrobe Wednesday: My Flower Fairy

The day before Halloween was the most beautiful day I've seen all year.  The sky was a dazzling blue and the air was a warm 70 degrees.  The forecast for Beggars' Night was predicted to be exactly the opposite.  It's true what they say about Ohio (especially in the fall), if you don't like the weather wait five minutes.  I made the executive decision (as head costume constructor and ego-maniac) that we must take photos of Vi's costume while the weather was on our side.  Aaron came up with the brilliant idea to go to the Children's Discovery Garden. The pictures turned out so great that we decided to make a storybook.  Here's the link if you want to look at it, but those who share my genetic material should probably not look unless they want to spoil Christmas.

Sometimes I can't stop staring at a photograph I've taken.  My fellow artists will understand this feeling, but I'm pretty sure I can't stop looking at this one because of Violet's eyes.  Either way, I sure do make pretty things.