The Paper Dart
An ode to creativity and distraction

What My Kids Are Reading: Once Upon a Goat & Where’s Spot.

Margot: 3 Years

Once Upon A Goat by Dan Richards

My second child, Max, was not an easy baby. First, there was the getting pregnant (a story for another day). Then, there was the staying pregnant (also a whole thing, and Ali Wong explains it better than I could). Then there was the morning sickness (otherwise known as “all-day, all-night, 15-week-long sickness”), the high-risk referral, the amniocentesis, etc. Finally, after being pregnant for approximately 15 years, I was induced, and Max entered the world with a bang.

When the nurse placed my squirming, red-faced, 9lb, 2oz baby boy in my arms, he was already shrieking. I looked at him in shock, recalling how my first baby had gurgled and cried a little, then nursed quietly for hours after birth. “Looks like he can breathe just fine!” the nurse laughed. “Uh huh,” I said, trying my best to smile as he pooped on me.

About an hour later, when the doctor was finally finished sewing me up, no one was joking, and Max was still shrieking. If I remember correctly, he screamed for the first three hours of his life: an especially impressive time frame considering newborns are usually only awake for a few hours a day. Yet despite his apparent distaste at entering the world, we were enamored with him. He was fat and squishy and perfect. And, unlike my first child, he actually kind of looked like me.

Soon after we brought Max home, we learned that he had colic, or reflux or, most likely, both. Every night between the hours of 5 P.M. and 10 P.M. my husband or I had to bounce with him (continuously) on a yoga ball, or else face the wrath of, as we called him then, “Mad Max.” I was at loss for what to do, and felt like a terrible mother. I couldn’t seem to make him happy, and bouncing with the newborn for several hours a night left little time for the daughter who had been my entire world for two years.

At around 5 weeks, our whole family was completely exhausted, but we had also finally figured out a few treatments that allowed us glimpses of a happier version of Max. Things were starting to feel a little easier, and I could see good days (and sleep) on the horizon.

The universe, however, must have read my mind, because the next week, my entire family was bed-ridden with a horrible stomach flu, and Max was in the PICU with viral meningitis.

From the time I rushed him to the emergency room at 2am on a Tuesday, until I finally slept again on Thursday night, I was a wreck. Watching my 5-week old baby get a spinal tap was absolutely horrifying. Seeing him whisked away by a team of doctors dressed in hazmat suits was even worse. For a week, he slept all day and wouldn’t eat. I remember calling my mom at the point when I felt absolutely insane from anxiety and sleep-deprivation, and telling her “this isn’t what I signed up for.”

“You don’t really get to choose,” she said.

Max at 5 Weeks

Her statement was so obvious, but also something that, in that moment, I really needed to hear. Even though the high-risk diagnosis I received during my pregnancy with Max had required me to think a LOT about what our lives with him might look like, I was still acting on the assumption that I was entitled to the perfect story.

What I actually needed was to pause and remind myself that Max being born healthy (minus the night-screamies) was a true miracle. The road we walked with him in his early days certainly wasn’t perfect, but he still was.

Right about now, you are probably asking yourself: WHAT IN THE WORLD does this have to do with a children’s book about a goat?!

Well, Once Upon a Goat by Dan Richards is a truly ADORABLE book about a king and queen who wish for the perfect baby boy–“hair like ocean waves” and all. Their fairy godmother tries to honor this request, but, in perfectly punny form, ends up leaving them a goat (a “kid”) instead of a human child.

The king and queen are, at first, distressed by the situation. The goat makes a mess and eats their precious roses. He is not what they wanted. So they kick him out. I won’t give away the whole story, but, just so you can sleep at night, I’ll let you know that it turns out OK in the end. Ultimately, the humans and goats come together and realize that the family they have is definitely a little weird, but also pretty great.

Like this baby goat, our experience with Max was a little difficult. He didn’t sleep well, had (has) terrible stranger anxiety (quarantine has not helped) and was pretty whiney. His first year was definitely the most challenging year of my life, but also, looking back on it, one of the best.

Max, today, is the sweetest, cuddliest little boy. He constantly wants to be held and cuddled and gives the best running hugs. He loves stuffies, his paci and cuddling with the dog. He adores his sister, and his screech of delight when she chases him around the house is pretty much the best sound in the world. He loves food almost as much as I do and is (in my unbiased opinion) the cutest child on earth.

Despite the twists and turns along the way, I can honestly say that I do have the “perfect” kid. He loves me, and I love him, endlessly and no matter what. Max has taught me so much about myself, and about what it means to be family, and I wouldn’t trade our experience with him for the world.

Max: 15 Months

Where’s Spot by Eric Hill

Max is really getting in to flap books and, unlike his sister, he has yet to rip any of the flaps off! My favorite of the flap books that we have at home is Where’s Spot? All of the “Spot” by Eric Hill are fun, but both of my kids have particularly enjoyed the “surprise” factor of this one–after all, hide-and-seek is always a fan favorite.

The Books (Click to Buy):

Montessori(ish)

Welcome to a new section of THE BLOG!

When I first had kids, I read up on Montessori parenting philosophy and, to be honest, was not a fan. It seemed so organized and regimented: two things I most certainly am not. Also, maintaining some of the systems it promotes sounded impossible, especially when you have more than one kid at home.

So, in this section, I will be sharing with you the modified, Montessori(ish) things we do in our home that have been beneficial for us, but also realistic and sustainable.

Max at 15 Months Pouring Water

Let me start with some background:

Both of my kids went to a Montessori school starting at 6 months old. When we first started looking for daycare, my husband and I were pretty stressed out about it. We both work relatively long hours, and Margot (my oldest and only at the time) would be spending all day with her teachers. I really wanted to find a place where she could learn, but also get a plenty of love and cuddles.

When we found our current school, we both fell in love right away. The principal’s biggest selling point was her Montessori-trained teachers, but what really won us over was the working vegetable garden, urban farm, and tiny classroom front porches where toddlers could hug their chickens goodbye before scampering back into their classrooms. You won’t be surprised to hear that we signed up immediately following the tour. A few days later, we met with the infant teacher, who handed us a thick book, and a big stack of papers, and asked us to “familiarize” ourselves with Montessori philosophy.

At this point, I remember turning to my husband and giving him that “how do we get out of this / we’re never going to have time to watch Bravo again” look. But, somehow, we both managed to skim the book, read a few of the pamphlets, and buy some basic, at-home Montessori supplies before Margot started school.

And then, something incredible happened: Margot began learning how to do very “grown up” things, at lightening speed. It seemed like every day when I picked her up from school, she had mastered a new skill.

One day, when she was probably six and a half months old, Margot’s teacher handed her to me over the fence and told me she had started using a cup.

“A what?” I asked, looking down at my daughter’s tiny, sausage-roll fingers.

“A cup,” the teacher repeated, in her teacher voice.

She told me that they had been giving Margot the cup for a few days, and that she was pretty proficient in it. She said that I should start giving Margot water in a cup (shot-glass-sized, preferably glass) with breakfast and dinner. I was incredulous. My daughter was pretty sloppy at nursing, which is literally the only thing she has been able to do since birth. No way she could use a cup.

But low and behold, that night, I threw her in her high-chair, handed her a shot glass full of water, and watched as she guzzled it down. When she was done, she gave me an almost “I-told-you-so” look and happily slammed the cup (but didn’t break it!) back onto her tray.

I was officially sold.

For the past three years, we have been trying our darndest to do at home as Margot’s teachers do at school. I have been so inspired by the work that her teachers do everyday, as well as the way kids respond to it, and am definitely a Montessori convert. However, there are some things that four teachers can do in a controlled classroom environment, that I can’t.

Thus, I give you “Montessori(ish),” which I like to think of as the “real mom’s guide” to doing Montessori the best you can, while hopefully allowing you to retain most of your sanity along the way.

I hope to touch on a few of my favorite topics, including toilet awareness, potty training (yes those are two separate things!), home life, self-feeding, and some of the academic stuff Margot and I are working right now in the midst of this wild Covid-19 home school adventure.

I’ll be starting next week with a little post on toilet awareness, so be sure to tune in if you have an under-two year old you want to prep for adventures in potty training.

Thanks for reading and let me know in the comments if you have a Montessori school or teacher you love too!

Montessori Books We Love: (Click to buy)

What My Kids Are Reading: The Invisible Boy

My daughter, Margot, loves looking at yearbooks. The yearbook from her first year at daycare is her favorite; however, she also enjoys random yearbooks she finds in school offices, thrift store yearbooks, and the yearbooks from my own childhood that are still tucked neatly into the shelves of my old bedroom at Mimi and Grandpa’s house. 

The method Margot prefers when it comes to reading yearbooks involves her pointing at EVERY SINGLE FACE in the entire book, and asking me to recite that person’s name, as well as a random fact or two about them. (For example, Ada from school has an iguana and wears Paw Patrol underwear.) 

One afternoon, as Margot and I sat around reading one of my middle school yearbooks, I noticed that I could no longer recite all of the names from memory. Despite the fact that some of my friends from middle school are still a very important part of my life, my recollection of the tangential players was starting to fade. Even the kid I had crushed on in 7th grade (I know because my friend had not-so-discreetly drawn an enormous pink heart around the photo) was a stranger to me. But when Margot got to one, particular picture, I felt a knot of guilt begin to form in my stomach. This girl I remembered.

Trudy Ludwig’s book The Invisible Boy, which is BEAUTIFULLY illustrated by Patrice Barton is about a little boy named Brian who nobody seems to notice. Brian is sweet, and thoughtful, and imaginative, but he never gets picked to play sports at recess and he dreads sitting alone every day at lunch. Brian is the invisible boy, and not even his teacher notices him. 

The girl I remember from my yearbook was my class’s invisible girl. For the sake of storytelling, I’ll call her Mary.  

In middle school, Mary had pretty much zero social capital. She didn’t wear the “right” clothes, or wash her hair often enough. She stumbled over her words when she bumped into you at the lockers, and she didn’t have anyone to sit with at lunch. 

When I was in middle school, I also didn’t really wear the right clothes, or know the right things to say, or wash my hair anywhere near often enough. But I did all of these things just enough to get by. I had a group of friends who I loved, and the idea of losing the safety of their companionship was terrifying enough that I would have done pretty much anything to appease them (don’t worry, I grew out of this pretty fast). 

I have a lot of feelings about the role of shame and guilt in our lives and, while I don’t think we should spend very much time wallowing in these emotions, I don’t think we should hide from them either. When I think about Mary, which is more often than she would probably ever imagine, I let myself feel that shame. Even at 11 and 12 years old, I knew that all Mary needed was for someone to notice her. She needed to be greeted by a classmate on the way in to school in the morning, and to be invited to work with someone on a science fair project. She needed to go to a sleepover, and learn how to braid her hair, and where to buy dumb bedazled t-shirts.

At the time, I knew that Mary knew I knew this. (What?) Yes, I didn’t mess that up. Mary, I think, saw me as a sort of social bridge. I was just nice enough, and uncool enough to know who and what she needed, but I also had enough social capital to bring her up the ladder with me. Mary reached out to me a couple times, in a couple different, but equally awkward ways. I remember my friends laughing at me about it during Science class and, in my desperation to stay on the “right” side of the line, I laughed along with them. 

Conversely, in Barton’s book, Brian finds his bridge, and his life becomes full and beautiful as a result (this is the part of the book where you cry, and the child you’re reading it to gets a little wigged out). The first time I read this part of the book, I felt pretty crappy. Middle school me could easily have made that simple magic happen for Mary, but I chose not to. 

I also felt sad and worried and overwhelmed for all the other invisible children that we, as teachers, all had in our classrooms this past year. When school closed, they left the safety of our watchful eyes, and faded further and further away from us.

To be fair, there were a lot of things that worked really well about online learning. Kids learned to be independent and organized (to some degree), technology allowed us to continue delivering content, giving feedback and connecting “face to face,” and parents got a clearer view of their childrens’ skills and areas of struggle and, hopefully, bonded with them through the process.  

But the Brians and the Marys of the world are who I worry about the most. These are the kids who turned on their avatars at every Zoom meeting, if they even showed up at all. They didn’t ask questions during class, facetime with friends, or respond to their teachers’ emails. It’s almost like they disappeared entirely. 

To a certain degree, teaching has a lot to do with knowing your stuff. There’s that old adage, “if you can’t do, teach,” but I hope we all know that’s garbage. I’m really good at reading books, so I do it professionally. But teaching has even more to do with connecting with the invisible children, and making sure someone makes them feel seen. I am so anxious for this pandemic to be over, partly because I want to get a babysitter and go out to brunch again, but even more so because time is of the essence for so many kids. We need to get together again–in the classroom, on the playground, and in the community–so we can keep doing the work of reaching out, being the bridge, and bringing color and life back to our invisible kids.

The Book! (Click to Buy)

Other Great Kid Lit About “Inclusion” (Click to Buy)

Super Unique Reflections: 6/8/2020

*Don’t worry, I know none of these things are unique. But they’re good, so listen up. 

What I’m Reading: 

Starting: Pretty Girls by Karin Slaughter 

Finishing: Swing Time by Zadie Smith 

Pretty Girls is, in fact, about “pretty girls.” More specifically, “pretty girls who get murdered.” It’s dark, and creepy, and really addicting. And the TWIST in the middle really got me. If you’re into true crime, or complicated sister relationships, I highly recommend it.

Swing Time has been great, and I will probably dedicate a full post to it later. It’s all about female identity (personal, professional, racial), mother relationships, friendships, etc, and the most unique coming-of-age story I’ve read in a while. Zadie Smith is a beautiful writer, and a pretty regular New Yorker contributor, so look for her if you are a subscriber.

(Check the bottom of the post for links to both books.)

What I’m Listening To: 

I listened to the “‘Revolution Now’: in Conversation with Rachel Cargle” episode of the Almost 30 podcast. It was a re-release of an episode they did a while ago, and as timely as ever. The most interesting part for me was when Cargle talked about her relationship to the feminist movement, and the ways in which black women have been excluded (both historically and now). I really couldn’t believe that I had never heard this narrative before, and had to pause and do some of my own research. Turns out a lot of the “heroes” of the feminist movement exhibited some pretty shady behavior towards their African American counterparts. This also got me thinking about what feminism means to me, and how my wants and priorities might be very different than someone else’s. I highly recommend giving it a listen. 

I’ve also been listening to The Daily pretty much every morning. This is my on-and-off “usual” routine, but I feel like I can’t go without it these days. 

What I’m Eating: 

I’ve been eating Liz Moody’s “Healthier Chocolate Chip Cookies” a LOT. They’re delicious and high in protein. My kid has no idea that they’re healthy, and the recipe is easy enough that we can make them together. 

What I’m Wearing: 

I bought this shirt from Amazon, and I know it’s dumb, but I love it. If only my kids could read. 

What I’m Grateful For: 

  1. My friends (both online and IRL) for supporting, educating and lifting each other up. I have learned so much this week, and am excited to keep learning about how to be a better advocate for change (in my family, my classroom, and the world at large).  
  2. All of the amazing women whose resources I used (and PAID for) this week. Including Tiffany Jewell @tiffanymjewell, Charnaie @hereweeread, Vera Ahiyya @thetututeacher, The Conscious Kid @consciouskid, and Bethany Edwards @biracialbookworms.
  3. My lovely family, and the fact that we continue to be healthy. 
  4. My wonderful friend and veterinarian for, once again, saving my dog from a toxic ingestion… FYI, you DO NOT want to let your dog eat raisins. 
  5. THE INTERNET for providing me with this creative outlet. 

HERE ARE YA BOOKS! (Click to buy:)

Quarantine Toy Roundup

Quarantine has turned my home into a really shady preschool. I have never been super organized (or organized at all really), but the number of toys, art projects, chunks of dog hair (?!), etc. laying around the house are currently at an all time high. The other day I was trying to strain pasta, and couldn’t find the sieve. When I asked Margot where it was, she told me to “hold on a sec,” and grabbed it from the backyard. She had been using it to collect “sticks and slugs.” Cool. But the good news is, we never have guests anymore, so WHO THE HECK CARES? 

We initially moved to California because I am not good at being inside for long periods of time. We spent most of Margot’s first three years at the beach, the park, the mountains, museums, etc. Never in a million years did I think a pandemic would hit and I would lose my mind on Amazon looking for toys that could replace Disneyland or “the woods.” But alas, here we are. 

In the past 3 months, we have bought a truly shameful number of toys. Some great, and some that I have already rage-donated. So, I thought it might be helpful to some other stir-crazy mamas if I included a list of our most-loved quarantine toys on the blog today. I have organized the list based on which kid(s) play with them most, and even included one that I bought for myself. Let me know what you think, and if your kiddos love any of these toys too!

Full disclosure: This may just be part 1 of a who knows how long series.  

Max: 14 months

Cement Mixer

Max is at prime shape-sorting age. He still doesn’t quite understand the idea of turning the shapes around to make them fit, so he often gets frustrated and tries to hulk-smash this toy. Sometimes I guide his hand, but other times I let him struggle. When he fails, he collapses in grief, but when he figures it out, the amazement on his face is PRICELESS.

Bag Shape Sorter

This toy is very similar to the one above, but Max loves carrying it around by the handle. This is one of the few toys Margot “helps” him with, as they both love filling it with random objects and pretending its a suitcase for “vacations,” which are now just another thing I have to explain away as a relic of the old world order.

Push Around Buggy (Car)

We bought this for Margot for her 1st birthday because she was refusing to sit in the stroller. Max (go figure) loves the stroller, but also enjoys this. The horn is his favorite feature, and our elderly neighbors are always delighted when he shrieks and honks at them on our evening walks.

Margot: 3 Years

Face Paint

Margot’s favorite part of any birthday party is the face paint. (If you are hosting a party for toddlers and did not hire a teenager to paint her face, she will not shy away from sharing her disappointment.) Since there are no birthday parties in sight for us in the near future, this has been a fun substitute. This kit comes with stencils, but it’s also pretty easy to look up face paint pictures on Google and do a decent imitation. We usually do this when Max is asleep, and, yes, she likes to give me “princess crowns,” which is really just code for “ALL of the green paint.”

Daniel Tiger Board Game

This is a super cute introduction to board games for toddlers. It’s basically a tiny model of Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood, and the players have to go around the board filling their “backpacks” with items from stores and giving “gifts” to other players. It has helped us practice taking turns, being patient and sharing. We also play by Margot’s rules some of the time, which make no sense, and mostly involve her hoarding all of the items on the board. Less fun for me, but thrilling for her.

Lego Dollhouse

I really wanted to get Margot a dollhouse. And by that, I mean I really wanted to get myself a dollhouse. But right now, Margot isn’t really into dolls or dollhouses. However, she loves Legos, which has made this a really great toy for the whole family. We have spent several weekend mornings redesigning the house (there are directions for constructing several different layouts), and Margot seems to be more motivated to play with the tiny family after actually constructing their home herself.

BEADS!

These were really a gift for me. (See last section.)

Both: (Max, 14 Months and Margot, 3 Years)

Grocery Cart

We have a toy grocery store to go with this, but they honestly like the carts better. They tend to use them bumper-car style: Each kid grabs a cart and they run around the room screaming until they eventually ram into one another and spill their “groceries” everywhere. They also use them to cart other toys around the house, and then get mad later when they can’t find said toys.

Reusable Stickers (for sticker book or windows!)

We initially bought these for a plane trip pre-pandemic. On the plane, Margot played with them in the book for a while, but really enjoyed sticking them to the windows and tray table of the plane. At home, we usually play with them on the sliding glass doors. Margot will fiddle around with these INDEPENDENTLY for 10 minutes or so at a time, making up little stories or “movies” with the different people/animals. She has recently starting teaching Max how to play as well. It’s a great “do something while I make dinner” activity.

Me: 32 Years

I have been making bead bracelets with Margot for a few months now, and have found the process to be very therapeutic. However, I don’t love actually wearing these enormous, animal-shaped, chunky bead bracelets. So I bought myself the kind of bead kit that I had at camp as a kid and have spent many a night peacefully beading away. Dan thinks its weird, but I give it an 11/10.

Where to next?