Pink Houses (er, Shelves)

My son and I are only one week into our magical mystery tour and we've already visited a zoo, attended a wedding, enjoyed a festival, watched a parade, run a 5K (well, in Parker's case, a 1K... most of it atop his grandfather's shoulders), waded in Lake Erie, careened around naked in my in-laws' backyard (OK, I abstained from that activity), bathed in mud (that one, too), visited a local orchard, strolled along the remnants of a bustling, prosperous nineteenth century canal, romped around my husband's family's 150-year-old family farm, and eaten a combined total of seven ears of sweet corn, half a peck of peaches and one buckeye. This weekend promises more excitement, with a trip to my father-in-law's factory, an evening of bowling, a morning at Cedar Point Amusement Park where we'll cheer on my father-in-law as he swims in a half-Ironman and an afternoon celebrating the Erie County park system.

Believe it or not, we've had ample downtime in the midst of all the hullabaloo, during which my son and his doting, ever-patient grandmother have played and played and (cue the trumpets) done some Montessori activities! My mother-in-law used to teach in a Montessori school here in Ohio, and she prepared for our visit by setting some old pink shelves (originally built for her own kids) in a corner of her living room and filling them with all sorts of fun Montessori-inspired materials. Grandma Betty and Parker have been bead stringing, gluing, pouring and labeling. They've done puzzles together, read books and created farm and zoo scenes using little animal figurines and pieces of felt. It's awesome to see my son not only basking in the love and affection of his grandparents, but also practicing old skills and acquiring new ones under the tutelage of a teacher other than yours truly. Students cannot help but benefit from occasionally being taught by a "substitute teacher." Different teachers use different methods, have different personalities and provide a different point of view. And my son has the best substitute of all in his grandma; my mother-in-law is a natural educator and constantly perceives learning opportunities, even in the most mundane of tasks.

I, myself, have learned a lot over the past seven days. It's such a gift to be able to sit back and really observe your youngster, especially when you're accustomed to acting as his primary caregiver and educator. My son has been absolutely insatiable with regard to knowledge since we arrived here; he's soaked up everything his grandmother has said to him as well as everything we've seen, from the trucks on the highways to the combine harvesters in the fields to the family photos displayed around the house. That's not a huge surprise, though, since Parker, like most three-year-olds, wants to know everything about just about everything. Also not surprising is how much he has profited from his grandmother's seemingly endless reserves of patience. She either has a very good poker face or she just really and truly never gets frustrated while interacting with my son (and I tend to think it's the latter). It's obvious to me that Parker is thriving in the glow of his grandmother's (and grandfather's) unconditional love. More to the point, it's undeniable to me that he's learning more; and he's learning more because he's not distracted by the fear that his grandmother will fly off the handle if he spills a little glitter or gives up halfway through putting the matrushka dolls back together. (In case you haven't read any of my earlier posts, I have a bad habit of occasionally flying off the handle.) What is surprising to me is how beneficial it's been to have the pink "school shelves" constantly at hand. At home we keep our school materials put away and only pull them out when it's school time, and no playing is allowed during school time. Here, Parker flits from playing with cars to bead stringing to playing with trucks to gluing to reading books to playing ball. It just feels so much more organic, and there's never a "But I don't like school!" struggle. It makes me think that maybe I shouldn't keep Parker's school stuff tucked away in his closet. I don't know, though, if I could really let go of the reins. The absence of structure scares me. I mean, our culture has taught us that kids need to spend a set amount of time in school; a set amount of time learning (or being taught, at least), without any toy-like distractions. What would happen if I did away with school time? Would my son still learn--would he periodically choose to pick up his graduated blocks or dressing busy board--or would he spend all day vrooming his Matchbox cars around the kitchen table? I don't know, but my mother-in-law's pink shelves are making me wonder.