Why is the Sky Blue, by Sally Grindley

[What is it about] A donkey and a rabbit. Rabbit is wondering why the sky is blue and rabbit has taught something to Eeyore [sic] about ladybugs—some have more spots than others. And then rabbit knows why the sky is blue—because it was the only color left in the paint box. Only that isn't true.

[Did he like the book? Why?] Yes. I like the pictures and the story. I like the donkey and the rabbit. My favorite part is when donkey says I will only teach you if you sit still and listen. [why?] Because I like the words in that part. And I like that donkey gives him a ride home because that's a nice thing to do.

[Would you recommend this book to others?] Yes, because it's a beautiful story.

As a note, our version of this book is an older one, but I would hope they were about the same. The only part I've been able to compare is the cover, and the price, and the only reason I mention it all is because I have seen children's books change drastically over the years thanks to over-zealous editors (I Can Fly is a good example of this, when they actually edited out half the book and we had to go through an antique book dealer to get the original 40 page version). In any case, the original edition of this book is going for $70 used and I have to wonder why.

I think the greatest moment of the whole experience so far is still the afternoon when I was making lunch, just a few weeks into the class, when I heard coming from our piano in the other room the sound of little hands plunking out a new song, working their way through it until they could play it smoothly all the way through—no guidance, not even any suggestion, necessary, just a pure intrinsic desire to learn and accomplish. His beam of pride and joy at a job well done during his first piano recital today, however, does rank a close second.

When this method is finally released it is going to be a wonderful program for early music education, but I don't suppose I can credit the method entirely with his interest. My guess is that watching and hearing his dad play so beautifully through all these years has had something to do with it, and in true Rousseau fashion I started learning at the same time as Calvin, just to give him a completely different view of an adult "playing" the piano. As an aside, I am using the Piano Adventures Adult beginner method and am finding that to be a wonderful learning experience as well.

About Laughing Song he says:

[summary] "It's about laughing, of course, and having a good time. And cherries."

[he likes it because of] "the ha ha he!"

[In summary] it's kind of a story about animals and a boy but it's also poems. It has animals in it. It has gentle artwork pictures.

[I like the book] because I like the animals in the story and I like it because it's poems.

[My favorite part is] the King of Cats because I like the cat that's in the poem because he eats lobster and he gets full...bigger...like the moon.

Would he recommend this book to others? A resounding yes.

But before I overlook it, here's Calvin's commentary on the book:

His summary of the book: "It's a book about groundhog. It's about groundhog going in his den and making a den and eating green beans. It is a pretend story but it could actually happen in real life. It is true that a hawk or a coyote would eat a groundhog like that."

He likes the book because "I like the groundhog when he scurries into his plunge hole."

He couldn't pick a favorite part because he likes the whole book and would recommend it to others "for sure."

Any final comments? "I love this book! It's my favorite book." (this week, that is).

St. Patrick's Day art

Four hearts and a lower case "t" cut on the Cricut. Calvin removed the cross on the "t" with his little scissors and glued all the pieces together. It was boring by iteslf, so he decided to raid my button collection (which is, thankfully, rather extensive), and we used Glue Dots to adhere them to the shamrock. He wrote "Lucky" just for a final touch, and when we couldn't find a frame in the right color? He painted one.

St. Patrick's Day door wreath

I was never a wreath person before, but I've since changed my mind—I really like having something cheerful and welcoming on the door. When the Valentine's wreath came down, a week or so later than proper, of course, Calvin and I went in search of a replacement. A pre-made spring wreath runs upwards of $30 at the craft stores, and the wreath forms themselves are upwards of $10, not to mention the cost of additional materials, so instead we visited our PTO Thrift shop, which is quickly becoming one of our favorite shopping stops.

At the trhift shop we found a very country (not our style) door wreath for $2, relatively boring fake flowers in a happy yellow color for $1, and two rolls of green and shamrock ribbon for $1. A few quick snips freed the wreath base, and about three minutes later we had a spring worthy front door wreath for all of $5.

Already this season we have found emerging tulips and buds on tree limbs. On our walks we have enjoyed a lot of bird sightings, including cardinals, purple finches, yellow finches, sparrows, jays, blue birds, ducks, geese, and, just a few days ago, we were lucky enough to spot the beautiful Sandhill Cranes returning to their nesting ground, which just happens to be right next door.

Also on walks we've splashed in puddles, played in the final remaining mounds of snow, and studied the melt water run-off patterns (he got a real kick out of that).

We've even pulled out some of the summer toys for their first uses in the new year. He was particularly eager about the sand box and the sidewalk chalk.

Though parts of both books deal specifically with discipline and the kinds of "stages" that all mothers abhor, they come back to my mind often for their information on Piaget's developmental theory. I believe it was while reading Miseducation that my knowledge of Piaget went from college text book memorization of his theory on stages to a real life grasp of its application. Piaget held that children must achieve certain cognitive abilities before they can learn certain skills, and watching Calvin grow and change these stages have been pretty marked, and having the means to recognize them has been pretty rewarding.

Why am I spouting all this information so suddenly? Because yesterday I experienced one of those "Aha!" moments, a real light bulb going off in my brain while watching Calvin put together a floor puzzle. Several months ago, the last time we had the puzzles out actually, I sat on the floor in much the same position, watching him do the same three puzzles, and experiencing a certain amount of frustration and anxiety. Calvin himself was having a fine time, but watching him repeatedly try to fit together pieces that could not possibly have connected (i.e. hole to hole, peg to peg, or straight edge in the middle) was a bit like nails on a chalkboard for me. Calvin's only real concern with the puzzle pieces was to put the pictures together without any consideration given to shape or orientation. Several times I tried to gently lead him to recognizing the importance of the shapes, but to no real avail.

Yesterday, however, was like a new dawn. After months without even opening the puzzles he flew through the two easiest ones in minutes and attacked the harder puzzle with an actual plan by pulling out the edge pieces and connecting them first, beginning in the sky and moving towards the ground. He was sorting pieces based on both color and shape. I was astounded. I was pleased. I was also greatly relieved and found myself enjoying the activity for once. Later I thought about all the various leaps he's made in the past couple of months—his newfound understanding of familial relations (Gram is your mother, isn't she?), his sudden interest in and aptitude for learning to read and write, and now his ability to sort puzzle shapes in multiple ways—and that's when the little light bulb went off in my brain. Those leaps and bounds were predictably related and were the signs of his starting to move into the concrete operational stage, when children become able to properly classify and order objects based on one or many factors. It is upon reaching this stage that children are able to recognize simultaneously two different aspects of a single object's existence (the puzzle piece can be the head of a brown dinosaur, and can also be a top edge piece in a puzzle) and successful movement into this stage is necessary before true reading (not memorized recognition of words by sight) can be taught since a child must be able to recognize that a letter can make multiple sounds, and can be not only a letter, but also a sound, or also part of a word.

I made note of my little light bulb moment, like putting the final piece in my own puzzle, in the journal I have begun keeping on our homeschooling journey. Just writing down the discovery made me realize what an exciting moment it really was for me. I think I rank it right up there with first steps, or first foods, only really this one is even more exciting because it is so much more interactive and so much more complex.

With Mr. Rogers we took a trip to the recycling plant, then followed the trolley to make-believe town (I'd forgotten all about that), and then we made a craft—trees, to be exact. Calvin seemed to enjoy all of the half hour show (a perfect amount of time), and immediately after he was determined to make his own paper trees so he could have a forest for his train set. We did so, and now he has one.

Paper trees

Supplies: Pen, scissors, tape and/or glue, paper tubes of any kind (we used toilet paper and paper towel tubes), construction paper in your choice of colors, and tissue paper (preferably in green).

Mark construction paper to the size of the tube. Cut paper along marked line. Adhere paper to cardboard tube. If using glue, allow to dry (we put rubber bands around our tubes to keept he paper in place while the glue dried). Latsly, crinkle up the tissue paper, shape it into the top of a tree, and shove a small part of it into the top of the tube. Done! I also used a dab of hot glue to keep the tree tops inside the trunks so that we could have a perpetual summer for our train setting.