Fine art does not move me.

Classical music and opera leave me ho-hum.

Give me an old house to wander through, or an antique book to pore over…show me a cave, an ancient waterway, or the garden or a handcrafted quilt. Those are the things that move me.

So when it comes to raising a well-rounded child, I find myself faced with “The Bigger Picture.”

Despite my complete lack of interest, I find myself at events like last Saturday, listening to two children’s symphony orchestras as part of UMKC’s Music and Kids events. This was the third installment in a series of four events designed for kids 3-8.

Emily has enjoyed them, although she was slightly bored at the last one, too much sitting and not enough activity. Thankfully it only lasted 45 minutes. I was just proud as could be that I didn’t fall asleep.

Does that sound awful? Well, at least its the truth. Classical music is nice to hum, which I do with regularity, but other than that, it simply does not move me. I accept that I’m not wired that way.

In many ways, I find that a small piece of regret steals over me. I would like to enjoy fine art or classical music, I really would. But I don’t, and try as I might, and expose myself as I have, that feeling has never changed.

And if Emily feels the same way, some day, then I totally understand. But then again, she might not. She might fall in love with Mozart, dive into Picasso or Monet and feel something inside shift when she looks at those paintings.

When my older daughter, Danielle, was ten we went to the Nelson Atkins museum. And while the Egyptian exhibit, and some of the Renaissance pieces caught my attention, overall I was bored out of my mind. My daughter, however, was captivated.

And so it came to pass that at least once a year, if not more, we would visit that museum and spend hours walking through it and, in her case, sketching what she saw. As for me, I learned to take a cross-stitch project or a book along for the ride – things I appreciated far better.

Now 22, Danielle is a talented artist who loves art. When I look over her sketches, I see things I enjoy, but I’m no connoisseur.

I learned to hide my boredom as much as possible, or channel it into positive actions. And so, when UMKC’s Music for Kids program came along I signed Emily up, looking forward to exposing her to something I have no real preference for, but one that catch her and hold her in a way I cannot fully understand.

I do this because I see The Big Picture. Danielle is not me and neither is her little sister. I look forward to seeing where their dreams and inclinations will take them. I imagine a future that is bright with possibility and choice. And along the way? I’ll try not to fall asleep!

“Mama, did you know that there are suds in the walls?”

“Suds, baby? Or studs?”

She smiled, “Oh, yes,” she giggled, “I mean studs, Mama, there are studs in the wall. Daddy and me found them with this.” She waved the yellow stud-finder. “I’ll show you, Mama.” She jumped up, walked over to the living room wall, and waved at me. “You press the button here,” the machine beeped in response, “and move it around until you find the suds…I mean studs.”

That was a week ago.

It had followed a repair of my shoe shelving in the master closet, in which Emily had been very involved in. She helped Dave find the stud and make the necessary repairs where a part of the shelving had been pulled out of the wall.

A few days before that I had told Dave, “I want her to learn everything…oil changes, carpentry work, even plumbing.”

He laughed, “What, worried you won’t have anyone to do it when I die?”

Ouch.

“No, I don’t want her to have to depend on anyone for something she can do herself.”

That seemed to satisfy him. And when I asked him to fix the shoe shelves, he made sure that Emily was right by his side. She loved it, you could hear the excitement in her voice when he told her he needed her help. And help she did, while learning the basics of a new skill.

But it is more than that. It is more than the hope for her to feel independent that prompted my encouragement of teaching home repair. Not having to depend on anyone, knowing how to fix something yourself is great, but it is the feeling you have when you first attempt it that is the most important. And that is what I want to get across to her - the feeling or belief that she can do anything she sets her mind to.

If you had that feeling, even when faced with something you had never done or knew nothing about, how likely is it that you would be successful? Pretty darn likely. It is the attitude in which we approach a challenge that makes the difference.

There is a second part to that, however.

When Emily was three she brought me a piece of paper and a pen and asked me to draw an ‘A’. “Why don’t I show you how to draw it?”

Her answer cracked a line in my heart, “I don’t know how.”

Over the next few months, we encountered more and more of those statements, about a variety of tasks that seemed, at the moment, overwhelming to her. Along the way I would say, “No one knows how to do things at first, they try and they learn, and eventually, if they keep at it, they get really good. Just keep trying and watch what happens.”

At first, she was unsure, disbelieving, but eventually, she began to try, and learn, and grow, and excel at those things that had at first seemed so intimidating.

Faith and persistence is the second thing I would have her learn from all of this. Faith in herself and her abilities, and the persistence to stay with the task and not give up.

I think that if we go about a wide variety of tasks and challenges, then we will see an end-product that is confident, persistent, and open to new challenges and learning adventures.

And along the way, we will raise a daughter who can find studs, do carpentry, fix plumbing, maintain vehicles, cook, clean, operate electronics, garden, and so much more.

Robert Heinlein, a great science fiction author and free thinker once wrote:

“A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.”

Words to live by…

The wealth of choice of curriculum (or lack thereof) for homeschoolers grows by the day. And more and more, we hear the term ‘unschool’ associated with it.

I will admit, when I first heard the term, I was hesitant. How can you unschool? Would that be the antithesis of learning? How could you be sure your child was learning? WOULD they be learning?

Imagine my surprise when I realized that early childhood, prior to those organized activities such as preschool or kindergarten IS unschool.

Unschooling is what your child does when he learns to walk. Or talk. Or dress herself. It is learning…without an agenda or a due date on the paper.

As the guest speaker on the teleconference, Pat Firenga said with a laugh, “Birds fly, fish swim, kids learn.”

That in itself is such a beautiful sentence, such a beautiful concept, and yet we allow our fears and upbringing to get in the way of what is, essentially, a very simple way of learning.

We are hard-wired to learn. We crave knowledge, experiences, and opportunities.

If you think differently, then I would posit that the system of learning you were exposed to as a child injured you, greatly. I would go on to suggest that it is less a matter of ‘teaching children what they need to know whether they like it or not’ and more of finding the joy in the pursuit of knowledge and skills.

Imagine my surprise when I realized that all of my education, four years in public schools, and the most of the rest in private schools, topped with a community college education – were NOT where I have learned the most. They are not where I got my skills to learn the rest of what I know. Imagine my surprise when I counted back and realized that my education over the past forty years has comprised over more than 25 of it in what was essentially unschooling.

Yes, I am an adult and yes, I am self-motivated. But so are our children. Ever meet a child that wasn’t curious and didn’t get into awful fixes at least once? Ever meet a child that you actually had to teach a primary first language too? Or did you simply talk to them and eventually they started using a word or two one day, progressed to telegraphic sentences and eventually to full-bore “But I want to go play with my friends, I’m bored!”

Recent training certified me as a business and life coach. One thing that I realized as I went through the training was that a coach’s job wasn’t to give answers or solve their client’s problems. Instead, it was usually quite evident that the client already KNEW the answer to their particular problem. They already knew the particular career choice that was right for them or the steps they needed to take to make their lives different.

The job of the coach, I quickly learned, was to help a client to step out of their own way. It was as if they were standing, with their back to the door of their future, audibly wondering what to do, when all they had to do was turn around, open the door and step through.

Overly simplistic?

Not really.

With one child raised and my youngest so early on her path, I have learned one very important lesson…

GET OUT OF THE WAY

When my daughter wants to learn something, the best thing I can do is to hand her a few tools, my backup presence, and let her loose.

Pat Farenga also brought up the analogy of learning to ride a bike. When our children learn to ride a bike, do we get on the bike and demonstrate how its done? Or sit on the back of the bike and shout instructions? No. We help them on it, point out the brakes and the pedals and the steering column, and then stand behind, balancing them momentarily until the pedals begin to move and we are left behind.

That’s what unschooling is. That’s what learning is. The act of introducing something, providing limited guidance, and then stepping back and watching them glide away, jerky movements and terrifying crashes often involved, but independent and self-motivated.

That’s what homeschooling and unschooling and being parents is all about.

For more info on Pat Farenga, who worked closely with John Holt (coiner of the term unschooling), visit his site.

For some other interesting sites, check out:

Homefires

Universal Preschool

Unschool Your Teen

So when the notice came up that Fantastic Caverns was having homeschool rates from February 1-14, I immediately asked my DH if he was up for a road trip. He agreed and we’ve put it in the schedule which is big around here. If it is in the schedule, it exists. If it isn’t in the schedule than it doesn’t exist. And that schedule is full of activities, even now, in the middle of winter.

Then I called my dad the other day and he said, “Really, I can’t talk now, National Geographic is showing the Caves of Naica right now and I hate to miss it.” After giving me a brief description and telling me to look it up, he hurried off of the phone.

So look it up I did, and I can’t wait to see the documentaries. I found three documentaries, actually two of them on Naica and one on another cave, and watched the first last night with Emily. It was not on the Naica Caves, not this first one, but instead on the largest cave in the world, located in Vietnam.

As we watched it and Emily snuggled close I said, “We are going to go and see some caves in a couple of weeks, you know.”

“Really, Mama? Where?”

“Near Springfield, baby. It’s a long drive. It’s near that restaurant where they throw food at you.”

We recently made a trip to Branson (boring in winter) and stopped on the way back at Lambert’s – home of the throwed rolls, which is definitely an experience. They actually toss rolls at you, and come around with buckets of fried okra, black-eyed peas, fried potatoes and more. It’s fun, and the food is very tasty, the ultimate down-home comfort food. I’m thinking that since we will be so close, a visit to Lambert’s will definitely be in order.

The look on Emily’s face when she caught her first roll is priceless. She was so darned proud of herself!

As we continued to watch the documentary, Emily became restless. It was a documentary, after all, and she is only four. So I began to point out things that they were talking about and give her little synopses of what the explorers were facing. “The cave is so big they have to bring enough food for seven days, it will take them that long to get through it.”

I didn’t realize she thought it was the same as the Fantastic Caverns until she said, “Oh my. Mama, I think we will need a tent with us when we go to visit.”

How cute is that?

This prompted a discussion on how there are many, many caves – all over the world. And later she watched with interest the discovery of a white wood louse (roly-poly) in one of the side caverns. “He’s white, Mama, why is he white instead of dark?”

I explained that he lived in the dark, always, and when that happens the creatures don’t need to be dark to protect themselves from the sun.

The documentary didn’t hold her interest for the entire length, and that is fine. I knew before I started it that it might be too far advanced for her, but I wanted to watch it and she had been game.

Perhaps today we will get to see the documentary on the Naica caves, where the temperature never falls below 120 degrees farenheit, making exploration of the cave system nearly impossible. It is a wondrous place where crystals (you know, the kind that hang from necklaces?) grow to lengths of twenty or more feet. I can’t wait to see it.

More than anything, though, I look forward to our first trip with Emily to Fantastic Caverns. I think she will enjoy it. I wonder too, if it will unlock an lifelong fascination with caves and lead someday to spelunking down an unknown depth.

No matter where it leads or doesn’t, it will be fun and educational and something we can do as a family.

On other news, I can’t wait to finally be healthy and not having to croak out my words. Poor Emily hasn’t had much reading done lately, mainly because I can’t manage to croak out the words!

“Really? Can I see it?” She nodded and handed over a piece of paper with squiggles everywhere.

“See Mama, it’s a map!”

“Yes, Baby, I can see that it is. So tell me, who is on this map?”

She grinned in excitement, “Right here is my Cousin Eddie’s house.” She pointed to the top left corner of the paper.

I asked her if I could write locations on the paper and she nodded. I carefully marked the spot where her finger was pointing and wrote “Eddie’s House” on it.

“And we live right over here,” she said, pointing to the opposite side of the map. A few minutes later we had a set of points marked out for friends and family, including her friend Callie, Jude, and even Grandori’s house. Surprisingly, she only made one positioning mistake on our street, which had included five other houses besides ours, swapping two of the houses locations with each other.

Later that evening we pulled out the “Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons” – we had tried it last year and it just hadn’t met with great reception, so I dropped it and waited for her to evidence more of a readiness for reading. She has certainly been doing that in the past few months. She often repeats words over and over as she tries to sound out and differentiate what letters come first.

So we sat down and I did the lesson just as it was written. She was so excited! Which of course made me excited. We whipped through the lesson until the last part, a writing exercise, when my office phone rang and I had to go and answer it. I did, and while I was gone Emily practiced writing all kinds of letters in the dry erase alphabet book I have for that.

I was itching to do Lesson 2, but that will wait until today.

I’ve been weaning her back off of the electronic babysitter (TV) that was employed so often while we were sick with cold and flu and then cold again. What a month it has been!

Finally, after days of constant requests for movies and tv, Emily only asked once in the morning yesterday and took the denial well and did not ask again for the entire day. Instead she played in her room, helped me with baking and cleanup, and helped us organize the garage (which is packed with stuff and needs to be cleared out in time for the chickens in mid-February).

I have also noticed a dramatic improvement in her behavior since she isn’t in front of the tv all the time. A charming, friendly, helpful and inquisitive little girl returned to us!

Today will include story time at the library, a lunch prepared from her new cookbook, and of course Lesson 2 from the reading book. I can’t wait to see this little girl with her nose stuck in a book – lost in another world, in adventure and mystery. It will open up her world like no television ever will and she will take off!

As a friend of my older daughter said recently, homeschool provides “so many more opportunities and educational experiences” – and later added “as a home schooled child Emily has every opportunity to study something she directly loves” – and this is all true.

Today it might be princesses and ponies, and tomorrow maps again. Who knows? At four, and born so late in the year, Emily would not even be eligible to go into school until the fall of 2012, just a couple of months before her 6th birthday.

In some ways I view anything I do between now and then ‘extra’ or ‘free’ – but I do hope to see her reading by the fall of 2012. It will open up her world and fuel her curiosity in ways that I may be lacking.

I look forward to her ‘maps’ and her daily presents (boxes filled with a mass of unrelated toys) that are brought out and displayed. Every day is a learning adventure.

We went around the room, introducing ourselves and why we had come to the class et cetera. When it came around to the kids, the girl spoke first and pointed to her mom, who is in charge of organizing the farmer’s market there in Emporia, “I came because my mom said it would be a good idea.”

The mother, next in line, pointed to her son and said, “He found the announcement for the class and said we should go.”

Interesting. My ears perked up. A boy that was interested in a Intro to Permaculture course? Not one with a Wii or Xbox controller firmly welded to his hand?

Later as the lecture began we would occasionally have questions, and among those with the most questions, was this young man. As we broke for lunch, I heard him ask his mother, “Who was it that was concerned with low spots and boggy areas in their yard?”

I turned around, “Well, that would be me.”

He excitedly began to list off plants that would grow well in boggy areas, including cranberries (which has got me to thinking, let me tell you, I would love to grow cranberries) and we talked for a few moments about the issue, before heading off in separate directions for lunch.

After lunch, when the lecture resumed, the instructor was reviewing the zoning restrictions for livestock he had found for Emporia. The boy’s hand went up, “Um, actually I also saw that pigs were strictly NOT allowed.” (The instructor had just lumped them in with livestock and was saying they WERE allowed)

At this point I was certain, this young man had to be homeschooled. I wrote down a name on one of my business cards and at the next break I handed it to him. “You remind me of this guy and I thought you might be interested in looking him up.” I handed the card over, “Jere Gettle started his own heirloom seed business when he was 17. That was what, 10 or 12 years ago? He now travels the world collecting heirloom seeds from all over. He’s down in Mansfield.”

The boy grinned and nodded his thanks. I asked him, “Are you by any chance homeschooled?”

He nodded, “Yes, I am.”

We talked for a few minutes more and I walked away so damned excited. This was a glimpse of the future. Where will he go and what will he learn and do and accomplish? At 40, I’m standing beside him, learning a new skill, a new way of living. What will he accomplish in the next 30 years?

It gives me hope. Not just for him and what he can contribute to our future, but what I can do to help guide little Emily. At that moment, standing there, talking to a young man who had such an obviously deep interest (and knowledge) in the subject at hand I realized how much was possible, and how limitless the opportunities are for Emily to follow her interests, feed her craving for knowledge, and become a freer thinker, and more capable adult than I was for many years.

How lucky I am to live in a state that is so conducive to homeschooling. And you know what? I just might plant cranberries in my yard!

For nearly four hours she ran and played with other homeschooled children. She didn’t even really complain when I said it was time to leave…probably because she was worn out. Within five minutes of leaving she was quietly snoozing in her car seat.

Before she fell asleep she asked, “Mama, what do they do?”

“Who are you talking about, honey?”

“All those mommies there today, what do they do?”

I explained that some of them worked part-time or odd shifts, but that their main job was homeschooling. “Everyone you played with today is homeschooled by their mommies and daddies.”

This revelation seemed to blow her away. And for the first time in a long time she didn’t ask me when she would be old enough to go to school. Instead she said, “I like being homeschooled, but sometimes it’s boring all alone in our house.”

It is winter and life has been exceedingly hectic recently, but excuses aside, she’s right. I feel at times as if I am denying her something, even though she will not be old enough for public school for nearly two more years.

She needs more attention from me. More activities. More chances to learn. And  above all, she needs even more opportunities to play and make friends. She is so amazingly social – she jumped right in and started playing with children she barely knew, and had a great time of it. But I’m realizing I need to do more – one -on-one and activity-wise.

As some of the moms discussed reading I silently resolved to get out the “Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons.” I resolved to get back on track with book reading and try to read at least 3-5 books every day to her.

Less tv…more learning adventures. Emily has shown a great interest in ‘helping’ and I need to encourage that. With my recent bread-baking kick, I’ve let her help out some, but I think it is time to do more. And despite the miserably cold weather, I think we could definitely take short walks around the block, or up to the pond to see the geese, anything to get her (and me) out of the house, moving around and breathing fresh air.

Homeschooling an only child can be a lonesome affair. How I wish we had tried for another when she was one or two! But that chance passed. If we have another, which I hope we do, the age gap will be a full five years or more.

We will make the best of it, though. And I believe, truly believe, that we can make it work and make it into a positive experience. I just need to make a few more homeschool friends and work on including more activities into our daily lives.

Lately, despite her small size, people have been mistaking Emily for a child who is years older. The only explanation I have for this is that she has very clear speech, uses full and complete sentences, and is very social and inquisitive.

I shook my head. “She’s only four, she has a couple of years before she would start into school, but I doubt she will ever see the inside of a public school.”

The postal worker looked confused, “I’ll be homeschooling her.” I explained.

The woman’s mouth turned down in blatant disapproval. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. There’s so much that public school can teach her.”

I smiled, “Yes, there is. And none of it good.”

The woman persisted. I wonder now, in retrospect, if she was convinced I was part of some wacko fringe group. “But really, you can’t expect that you can give her all she needs to succeed in the world. And you know, be all right and normal and everything.”

Wow. Really, lady? Really?

My smile was gone by now. “I have a grown daughter who was homeschooled. She’s in college, self-sufficient, and doesn’t need my help in making ends meet and she lives on her own. Sounds like a success story to me.”

The clerk blinked, “Well, have you ever considered that she might just be one in a million?”

I fired back, “No. She’s quite normal, actually. Public schools often kill children’s creativity, among other things. And as you can see, socialization isn’t really an issue with this one.”

She looked completely out of sorts. “Well, I went to public school.”

I held myself back from saying, “Exactly. Case in point.” Instead I just wished her a good day. I’m sure she had quite a lot to say to her co-worker after I left.

This is the first time I’ve ever been seriously challenged by someone about homeschooling. The usual response, honestly, is approval. I’ve been genuinely surprised at how many people react positively when I say that we are homeschooling. Occasionally I get the polite “I see” and some questions, with grudging support. This woman was the first one I had ever seen who was actively against homeschooling. I think I handled it pretty well and I truly did my best NOT to offend her, although I think I did anyway.

The rest of our day was spent shopping, learning and creating. We cost compared meat, determined which was the better buy in the canned chicken noodle soup (Campbells beat out Great Value, by the way – it’s currently on sale at Wal-Mart) and we reviewed simple addition (2 soup cans +2 soup cans =4 soup cans total). We practiced green living by bringing our own bags and buying bulk with less packaging. We reviewed how wet can make things colder (her socks) and which checkout line was the shortest. Once we returned home and put away all of the groceries we also made homemade lip balm for the first time.

If Emily had spent the day in daycare (since she isn’t old enough for official school) she would have lined up at least three times to go out to play in various areas of the building and outside and for the bathroom. She would have been told she had to nap, when to eat, and when it was time to pick up the toys. She would have a lot more structure. As it was, she begged me most of the morning for a movie, which I was reluctant to give her, if only because she was pushing so hard for it. Late this afternoon I finally let her watch Toy Story. In a little while she will probably pull on her new snow boots and go and get the mail for me. She really likes to do that.

What I like is having her here, with me, every day. I don’t know who learns more, her or me, but I think it is definitely both of us. We argue, we have our frustrating moments, and there are plenty of times when I desperately need to work or write and she is bored. But there are also moments of excitement, clarity, and amazing leaps of learning.

I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I know what life lessons my daughter is learning – each and every day – and the responsibility of it, and her freedom to continue – rests in my hands. That’s what homeschooling is all about.

What kid doesn’t love balloons? Emily adores them, and has been encouraged by us to ask store managers and restaurant workers politely for sample balloons when she sees them. She’s already outgoing, so its easy, and it gets her in the practice of: a) asking for what she wants, and b) interacting with others in different social settings. And I guess there is a ‘c’ in there too. I love to see the bemused look on the individual’s face as they nod, look around for a parent (I’m always within eyesight) and then hand over a balloon.

So she loves balloons so much that she found, and retrieved, a large bag of them out of a kitchen drawer and has been determined to blow up every single one. Not only that, but she designates some pets, and some of them people (family members usually) so that our home has become filled with floor-traversing, gently bobbing Kellogg and Dixie (our dogs) and Mama and Daddy and Emily and so many more. They inch into every room, and I kick them accidentally wherever I go, only occasionally hearing a loud pop when a cat or overzealous child has had enough of a particular balloon.

Early on, her dad and I got tired of blowing up balloons and ended up setting daily limits. This was frustrating for Emily. After all, there were so many balloons and so little time! Both of us said to her, “If you want it blown up, do it yourself.”

“I can’t!”

“You’ll learn. Just keep trying.” (I’ve said this umpteen times about so many things!)

What followed the denial of ability was almost as bad as the constant requests from her for balloons to be inflated. She finally figured out just the right way to blow so that air actually entered the balloon. Those first attempts were wet, messy affairs. Child spit everywhere and of course she was still asking and asking for balloons to be inflated. Eventually she got a tiny bit of air in, but then the minute she stopped blowing and went to take another breath, the balloon emptied! What followed that, by Day 2, was a series of short-quick inflates, she would basically hyperventilate into the balloon and stand there grinning (and swaying) with a half-full balloon.

I thought to myself, Maybe if I just show her how to inflate it, hold it, then inflate it more, this would help. Otherwise, she’s going to pass out if she keeps doing this!

I spent about five frustrating minutes trying to show her the perfect balloon blowing technique before throwing my hands up and saying, “You know what, kiddo? You are doing just fine. Keep trying.”

Less than two hours later, she had mastered it. Maybe my tips helped, but honestly, I doubt they did. Emily learned to blow up a balloon – and believe me she was bursting with pride over it – all on her own. Eventually I’m sure she will also manage to learn how to tie the balloon on her own as well.

I have my two girls, no other children (unless you count my husband and recently he’s been very grown up so I can’t complain). Danielle will be 23 years old this fall, and Emily will be five. If I have learned anything from parenting Dee, it was to step back. I’m not saying walk away, but simply step back, it is amazing, truly AMAZING, what a child will learn on their own, under their own power, without any interference from us.

And really, isn’t that what our job is all about? We begin by sharing our lives with a completely helpless human being. We cherish each step forward, standing beside them, loving them, and supporting them as they take their first steps, learn to dress themselves and use the toilet instead of diapers. We may nudge them a little, encourage those landmark steps (especially the last one!), and give suggestions or feedback along the way. But parenting is a odyssey of a series of steps backwards. We allow them to breathe, to learn, and to grow – with our constant presence and arms waiting to catch them when they fall.

But it isn’t easy. At least not for me. I have raised one, watched her leave my home and settle 1,500 miles away from me. That was heartbreaking – and it still is. Because it’s never enough, the phone calls or emails or letters that we send back and forth. It’s never enough to satisfy the hole that her daily presence provided when we still lived under the same roof. Parenting is the art of stepping back – slowly, and with great care. I know that, as I step back, slowly, gently, I’m letting go by tiny increments. It is a joyful thing – to see a squirming squalling bundle become a fully formed human, with thoughts and emotions and dreams and talent. But it also a lot like dying, or at the best, metamorphosis into something else. Some other level of relationship that is uncharted and murky.

I guess parenting for me is also a great joy and a quiet sadness all rolled into one.