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Posts Tagged ‘review’

Making our “Sid the Science Kid” lists

May 14th, 2009 No comments

While Pippi napped, Annie and I were making lists.  I’ve been working on a  list of places to go this summer: website links, and locations which I can put into an Excel spreadsheet… because I am a nerd.  Annie, on the other hand, is listing “Things for my Sid the Science Kid Playhouse.”  Much of my own inspiration lately for daytime activities results from our family’s addiction to the new PBS show “Sid the Science Kid.” Born out of a brand new Jim Henson’s Creature Shop studio called the Henson Digital Puppetry Studio, the show uses “real time” puppetry to trace the interests and curiosities of a preschool boy named Sid.  Each program follows the same predictable sequence:  Sid is playing in his room early in the morning and comes up with a “Big Idea” or question including: “Why do my shoes get small?” or “How can I get my toys into my tree house without carrying each one up one by one?”  Sid introduces the question to his parents at breakfast, then drives to school with his mom who drops him off in the playground where he meets up with his friends, Gerald, Mae, and Gabriella.  After taking a survey of his friends’ responses to his “Big Idea,” Sid sits in circle time with “Teacher Suzie” who uses emergent learning techniques (in other words, she allows the class to be driven by questions that the students ask themselves) to direct the students’ “Investigations.”  The students move to their “Super Fab Lab” to conduct simple experiments and observations, which they record in their “observation notebooks” through drawings, colors, taping and gluing samples… things that preschoolers can really do.  The “Teacher Suzie” section also usually includes instructions on how you (parent and child) can duplicate the experiment at home and a song.  Finally, once school is excused and the students have “played with their new ideas,” Sid returns home to talk about his findings and to connect what he learns at school with his questions at the beginning of the day/show.

What I like best about the show is that it treats children as real scientists, and my daughters respond very well to this.  The subjects of “Sid” become the topic of many of our conversations, from “Mommy, did you know that I just slid down an incline plane.  Did you know that an incline plane is a simple machine?” to “How do we breathe, again?”  The girls have their own “observation notebooks” which are filled with leaves, drawings, tables, and charts.  Also, what I love about the show is that rather than answering questions or teaching information that stays put when the show is done… we are taking what we learn (and I say we, because I watch it with them) and using it throughout our day…. not to mention the fact that I’m re-learning all kinds of science I’d either forgotten… or never really learned in the first place.

We did a “leaf investigation” on Tuesday, which I will try to write up soon.  It’s really easy to do and works on observing and recording, but also on comparing and contrasting, and expanding vocabulary… all very useful skills.  Today, though, we have no real investigations planned.  Instead, Annie is making a list of “science tools” that have been used on the show and that she thinks would be useful so that we can put them in her playhouse outside.  Her list is mostly comprised of simple drawings: a ruler, an “inclined plane” (aka slide), a “lever and fulcrum” (teeter totter), a magnifying glass, an estimation jar, and a notebook.  She’s planning to collect the things she can lift and put them in a box.  I’m just thrilled that the playhouse has taken a break (however brief) from being Snow White’s or Cinderella’s or Sleeping Beauty’s castle… Thank you, “Sid.”

Open letter to Marguerite Kelly regarding “Mom’s at Split Ends…”

May 1st, 2009 No comments

The following letter is a response to a Family Almanac article in the Washington Post.  I’ve attached the link.  I sent this letter (admittedly rushed and written while 2 kids climbed nearby furniture) to an email address included in the print edition of this article; however, the email address did not work, and the letter was never delivered.

Dear Ms. Kelly,

Regarding your article “Mom’s at Split Ends for Dealing with Toddler’s Hair-Raising Antics” (Washington Post 4/23/2009), I must take issue with your advice. Any article which includes the line “All it takes to rear a toddler…” shows that the author is out of touch with the daily challenges of parenting a toddler–if for no other reason than demonstrating a lack of empathy. Despite being a mother, you can still be out of touch with the urgency, the freneticism, and exhaustion that most parents of toddlers (those of us who don’t have 24-hour per day nanny services, at least) experience. You’ve lost this reader because your emotional removal from the experience and clear nostalgia (the kind of nostalgia that comes from being a grandparent, frankly) has affected the “voice” in your writing.

The child pulling her mother’s hair isn’t pulling it *because* she doesn’t know that it hurts. She’s doing it because she gets a reaction. Pain is irrelevant. She loves the attention and response that it brings… even if it’s negative. She may even have a cursory understanding of the pain it causes, but a 15-month old child has not developed this kind of empathy yet. Instead, she’s playing the role of the little scientist who loves watching how everyone responds to her… and thinks it’s quite a great game. She cannot psychologically make the connection between her own pain (the gentle tugging of her own fingers on her own hair) and the pain she causes someone else. True, she lacks impulse control… but she also loves a reaction. You have to take the reaction away from the child before the behavior will stop.

Parenting a toddler requires something almost more impossible than endless patience, encyclopedic understanding, boundless humor, and prescient prevention… it requires knowing when to be emotionally vulnerable and intimate and when to be detached. It is one more skill that seems unattainable, until you remember why you do it. Then, like most of the skills we learn as parents, we keep working at it because we love them, and it’s what they need to grow.

Sincerely,
Lisa Rhody