MamaStories

Have you seen Amie puzzling (video to the right)? She was only 18 months old and really into it: fit-the-shape peg puzzles as well as jigsaw puzzles. After a while she lost interest and moved on. I wasn’t heart-broken, because I knew that by then she had memorized all the puzzles and wasn’t, therefore, really puzzling anymore. I described all this in First Puzzles for a Child Under Two Years.

Today she asked to make puzzles again. I had to dig them out from behind hundreds of children’s books (I am not kidding). Two hours later, this was the result:

As before, I mixed up the 16 same-shape-and-size but different-pattern pieces that fit into two boards (described in A Child’s First Puzzles), and the 16 geometrical shapes that also go into two different boards. She wasn’t even challenged.

• Touch still first, visuals second

Then I also mixed up the pieces of the eight 4-piece jigsaw puzzles (the penguins, etc. that she puts together in the old video). This was a way of forcing her to look at the images first, before resorting to the shapes and the fit of the pieces. She had no trouble with selecting the right pieces, but when she turned to the puzzling, it was clear that she is still predominantly guided by touch.

Even so, though she was still and often trying to fit a corner piece (which seems to be a visual, not a tactile clue) into the middle of a puzzle, or trying to attach the zebra’s head to his tail, it was much easier to talk her through it. I merely had to point out to her that it was a corner she was holding, and that she might use it to fix the zebra’s head, or that it might fit in the upper left corner, if she turned it a bit, and she was on it.

• “Fix it” with visual and directional pointers

Most of my help was purely verbal. “Why don’t you fix the zebra’s head” and “fix the giraffe’s neck?” were sufficient pointers. I found that the combination of the word “fix” and a brief description of the two parts she is supposed to join together seems to be the best way of directing her to pay attention to the image. 

Alos invaluable were the directional clues: “to the left, right, above and below” this or that piece. “Turn it a little”.

Thus we moved up to the little suitcase, the Crocodile Creek collection of four puzzles: one 4 pieces, one 6, one 8 and one 12 pieces. They’re tough: they certainly not designed with young toddlers in mind. Most pieces have a jumble of zebra stripes or simply a flat expanse of background that even I had to study closely to figure out where they went! But I talked her through even the biggest puzzle simply by giving her visual clues about the image and directional clues about where it should go relative to the other pieces.

• 24 pieces!

In the end we did two 24-piece puzzles of “Nijntje” (in the picture they are right behind her right hand). Even those she completed without my even touching a single piece. And in the end she was getting the hang of it.

“Let’s fix the rabbit’s head,” she mumbled. When I pointed out that she might turn it around, she said: “Don’t worry, Mama, I’ll do it. I’ll try. I’ll do my best.”

I trust you, dear. Don’t worry.

(Check out more pictures of our puzzling adventure today in my Flickr badge)

One more follow-up on Simon Says… 

We’re at Peet’s coffee shop and Amie is on my hip while I try to order and pay. She keeps pulling on the tip jar, which is (a) full of cash and (b) made of glass and (c) very close to the edge of the counter.

I tell her three (3) times to stop it. The fourth time I get desperate and say:

- “Simon says: don’t touch the jar!”

And she stops!

She’ll listen to Simon, but not to me.

Please tell me this is a phase…

 A little update to my Simon Says Peter Says entry.

When Amie wants to play the game now, she says: “I want to do Peter Says”. Then she does what Peter says, yells “No!” and undoes it.

“I want to do Peter Says” is a strange way of asking for the game, isn’t it, because she knows it is really called “Simon Says,” and that is how she used to ask for it.

We figured it out quickly. What she really means is: “I want to do what Peter says.” That’s the game: doing what Peter says - the forbidden! - laughing real hard when we react accordingly shocked, and undoing it.

Sigh. Her love for Peter was stronger than we thought. Already she is choosing the boys who we say are bad for her. Already she is laughing at our protests!

• A couple of weeks ago 

We had a long wait at the pizza place and Mama had forgotten to bring her bag of tricks - a folder with coloring sheets, crayons, puzzles, a couple of thin books, and a Manush (playmobil man).

Amie became restless - no patience whatsoever. “I want pizza! I want pizza!” and then

Baba suggested: “Let’s play a game. If Simon says it, you do it. If Peter says it, you don’t! Simon says, touch your nose.”

Amie touched her nose.

Baba: “Peter says, put your hand on your head.”

Amie put her hand on your head. Baba gave her a look.

“No-oo!” she yelled, and pulled her hand back.

And so on, until for the so-manieth time Baba indicated that she had done something that Peter had requested.

Amie: “But I love Peter!”

Baba: “You love Peter?”

Amie: “I love him!”

She gave herself a big hug.

Baba, a bit at a loss: “Okay, that might be so, but you still can’t listen to anything he says!”

• Peter says, Simon says today

We’ve played the game on and off, usually at how request. She still immediately does what Peter says (after all, she loves him), but most of the time she realizes her mistake without the need for a look or word from us, and then retracts her action, yelling “No-oo!”

We’re teaching her to think before she acts. But I fear we are also dooming her love for Peter…

• Letters

A couple of months ago, Amie started showing interest in letters. It was rather unavoidable, as we have wooden alphabet puzzles and alphabet fridge magnets. And she sees us reading, of course, and writing on paper (Mama) and on the computer (Baba and Mama).

She now also pretends to read her books,  some of which she knows by heart. It freaks out visitors, because she really seems to be reading fluently! She can recognize her written name and the A, B, C, K, M, O, P, S (and perhaps X).

• The things and the name/drawing/picture of it

She also pretends to write. On those occasions it sometimes seems that she hasn’t quite grasped the difference between the name of a thing and the thing. She will say:

- “This is a dinosaur!” and will make big movements, while very slowly spelling out the word - “di-no-sau-ah!” (with a flourish at the end). I ask her:

- “Did you draw a drawing of a dinosaur or write the word ‘dinosaur’?” (we have always taken care to make those distinctions between pictures,  drawings, or name(s) of something, and the something). She answers:

- “It’s a drawing of a dinosaur!” (tone: are you stupid or what?)

• The Letter Box Game

In any case, a fun game I invented is the Letter Box. It’s your average small cardboard box that has an easy-to-open flap. On it I stuck two cd-sleeves.

1. Every morning, Amie chooses one letter from a cheapo stack of flashcards. The upper and lower case cards go into the cd-sleeves on top. In the picture above we’re working on M, one of her favorite letters.
2. Throughout the day we collect things that start with that letter and put them inside the box. We cut out pictures of monkeys, for instance, put in (small) books whose titles start with the letter (Maisy), and small objects (money).
3. In the evening, we up-end the box and review its contents. I hope it will become part of our routine.

• Homeschooling Reading

That doesn’t mean we’re learning how to read, let alone actually reading. I have been doing some research on all the elements that need to come together and all the effort that needs to be expended for reading to happen… and I must admit, I am intimidated!

I don’t want to leave reading up to school, though. First of all, because  that kind of school is still very far off, and I think Amie might be interested before then. I also want her to learn reading in her own setting, that is, at home, as part of play, and out of her own volition.

Teaching has always been a large part of our parenting - of anyone’s parenting, for sure, but DH and I are very conscious of our roles as teachers. And Amie is a curious girl. She can now count to ten, for instance, not just say the words, but count 10 things: we taught her that and she eagerly aborbed it.

I wonder what kind of shape our teaching her / her learning how to read:

• it will be a homeschooling project, that is clear (even though DH doesn’t like the idea of full-time homeschooling, as someone who grew up in the extremly competitive Indian school system, he is shocked at how late kids in the States learn to read or count, etc. At age 4 he could already spell ‘handkerchief’ - a word I just had to spellcheck to see if I got it right!)
• but will it be more of an unschooling effort?
• or will I scramble to read the latest research and to offer her many experimental inroads?

One thing is for certain, we can’t wait for our daughter to experience the joy of reading, but we’ll take it one step at a time, letting her lead the dance.

I added an article on Amie’s puzzle skills in the Child’s Play section.

Beside a short history of how Amie approached her jig saw and fit-in puzzles at around age 16-18 months (a history that is perhaps representative of other kids that age), there is also a funny VIDEO of her solving some jig saw puzzles at 18 months of age. Go have a look-see!

I am looking for a board game type of game:

1. something that is fun (duh!)
2. that is “conceptual” in that it requires concept-formation, forward-thinking, memorization, etc.
3. that can be played in a group
4. that is appropriate for a clever and patient 22-month-old.

The social aspect is very important: I feel she needs and would welcome something interactive with other people  (so none of those “I’ll read to you” or “I’ll play with you” machines), and even children (she is still a very parallel player with kids her own age. For closer interaction needs the kind of directed attention that only adult and older kids can give her.)

We engage in a lot of play together: we diaper her bears, “clean” the house together, build towers with blocks and Wedgits, etc. But I am looking for something less physical, something that will bring us together in a more cerebral kind of space. 

I love to see concepts “light up” in her - like they were already there, in her brain, and they just needed to be switched on. This morning, for instance, I asked her: “What is the difference between Mama’s arm and Baba’s arm?” (which she likes to pinch when searching for that ever-elusive sleep). She thought for a couple of seconds and said: “Hairy”. So she understands the concept of “difference”.

This game should allow us to discover and exercise such cognitive skills like matching, spotting differences, concentration and memorization.

We do that when we read stories together, when we go through “spot the balloon” kinds of books. But we now need a game in that it should allow her to manipulate the events, move things around, which will give her sense of decision, of realization of her own change-making capabilities.

As such, it should also make her aware of the consequences and responsibilities of that kind of power, and make her more foreward thinking, more calculative, with plans of action, etc.

You know what I mean, right?

Board games, of course, is what comes to mind first, but most of them are beyond her as yet. There is one that sounds promising, though: the Goodnight Moon Game. Has anyone tried it?

Or am I asking too much? Should I just design our own boardgame?

David Holmgren, at the beginning of his book Permaculture, Principles and Pathways Beyond Sustainability (p.7), gives some examples of non-material well-being:

When we enjoy a sunset rather than watching a movie, when we look after our health by walking rather than consuming medicine, when we spend time playing with a child rather than buying them a toy…

I’m thinking even better would be making a toy for a child. A wooden horse, for instance, or a doll. Part, if not all, of its making would have to happen in her presence, so she can see the skill, attention and care it requires. So she can witness the time and love we pour into it. So she can learn the virtue of patience and experience the joy of anticipation. And, if she could contribute to it herself, the pride of accomplishment.

It would be an all-round toy for an all-round child.

{The picture is of a clay figure my Mom made for me. Amie lovingly calls it “Funny Guy”.}