Over the span of two or three years, you go from coming out of a human being’s body to becoming a talking walking full person with opinions and feelings and desires of your own. At age 2 or 3, you are a little talking, communicating, human being trying to figure out the world. This is where I find myself with Kingston right now.

As you probably know, Kingston lives at both my house and his dad’s house. He is with his dad two nights during the week and every other weekend. I’ve always wondered how he feels about living in two homes but I also realize it’s all he’s ever known so it’s just regular life to him. At 18 months, this wonderful young boy still said no words and I ended up I taking him to a speech evaluation. Being a preemie, we was evaluated at 16 month milestones and didn’t qualify for services. Little did I know, though, the child was listening and observing and saving up all his speech to explode out at once. Within a few months he went from no words to full sentences.

Recently, he’s been engaging in full conversations with me and even being the one to initiate the discussions. He talks about anything and everything he sees and questions his whole world.  According to my parents, I also never shut up at his age and asked “why” to everything.

This morning, at 5:45am, Kingston and I were in my bed, waiting for the Ok-to-wake light to turn on at 6am. Here was our conversation:

Kingston: Mama, do you like me?

Me: Of course baby, I like you and I LOVE you. You’re my baby and my big boy.

Kingston: Ok… Mama, do you like pancakes?

Me: Yes, I do like pancakes.

Kingston: Mama, do you LOVE pancakes?

Me: Yeah, I do.

Kingston: I do love pancakes too. They are delicious!

In that short, self-initiated conversation, Kingston was exploring the difference between like and love and checking in on our relationship. His dad told me that when he picked him up today, Kingston said: Daddy, are you happy with me? What an intense question for a two year old to ask. He’s sorting through feelings and relationships and asking some wonderful questions as he affirms his place in this world and in the non-traditional family he exists in.

Yesterday, I picked King up from daycare and brought him home. I had set out two different activities. Then I made tacos for dinner. He doesn’t eat much but he loves tacos. No taker on this one. He did my activities for 10 minutes and only ate watermelon and water for dinner.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he went a bit wild. I had a FaceTime call and then a phone call with a friend. Kingston threw things around the house, ran and yelled, jumped on the couch, jumped OFF the couch, rolled on the floor, and shouted to me “Mama, you’re misbehaving!” This was very out of character for him.

I tried to talk to him, calm him down, cuddle with him, and not much worked. After about half an hour of trying different things, I asked if he wanted to build with Lego Duplo together and he said yes.  He sat calmly and we built “a shield,” “monster house” and then “a tower” that we knocked down and rebuilt many times. As we built, he happily told me about his classmates at school: who likes to play in kitchen and dress up, who has to take a time out sometimes, who fell and got hurt the other day, how he wishes they had Magna Tiles at school, and who he would build with if they did. He told me what he likes for lunch and why he doesn’t like to attempt to go potty at school. He’s 2.5 and I got all that information about his life from playing together. And not just playing, but playing something HE wanted to play. I often put out activities, invitations to play, explore, or create for when he gets home. I set out two great activities yesterday. It wasn’t until he figured out what HE wanted to play that he calmed down and just connected with me. It wasn’t until I was off the phone that I realized that he just wanted to be with me and have my attention. About 15 minutes into building with Duplo, I asked him, “Why were you yelling and running around and jumping on things earlier? Why weren’t you listening toMama?” His response was the most clear, concise, and self-reflective response: “Because I wanted to play with you Mama. I want you to play with me. I want you to build with me Mama. I’m sorry Mama.”

I told him: Baby, you don’t need to say sorry. You made some mistakes. Next time, just tell me, Mama, I want you to play with me. We love each other and in our home we say what we need and we help each other. It’s me and you and we always have to help each other.

I am thankful that this small firecracker of a person who has only been with me for 2.5 years but is thoughtful and creative, intelligent and kind, communicative and loving. He’s my guy.

Originally written in August 2015. Today is the first day of school in NYC and I am about to walk into my 13th year of teaching. I was searching my computer for a post about why I buy a new dress for the first day each year. I couldn’t find it but came across this one instead.

 

In my pocket: a smile

 

Don’t smile until Christmas.

 

Have you ever heard this statement? When I began teaching in 2005, I was actually given this advice from a well-meaning colleague. To me, this statement goes along with, never disclose your age, don’t tell them your first name, never ever give your phone number to parents. All of these statements stem from fear that we need to control everything. They make the assumption that children are mean little evil creatures who want nothing but to steal our power. I laugh to think about a 9 year old chanting your first name while teasing you for being older than her mom. I picture a 12 year old boy shouting, “Ha! You smiled! You are weak! You have no power over us!” Think about a parent, blasting up your phone asking midnight questions about field trips and fashion advice. These are laughable examples of course but what are we really afraid of?

 

I also think of these statements as part of the “because I said so” philosophy. We want children to do what we said because we said so. Yet we don’t want to show emotion, we take ourselves too seriously, we pretend we are nameless and ageless, and give them nothing human to grab a hold of.

 

I recently went with my friend Nicole to a vigil for victims of pedestrian crashes. They were handing out signs with victim’s names and ages for us to all hold up. They said each and every victim’s name out loud. Family members stood up and told stories about their loved ones’ lives, talked about their favorite foods and the last trip they took. Helped us to understand that these victims were real people. The idea of putting a name and a story to people is to humanize.

 

We aim to learn as much about the young people in our classrooms as we can to make connections with them. It is far easier to understand why Tyrell has a hard time during first period once you know that he comes from Brooklyn in the morning and gets dropped off at a family friends house in Washington Heights and then is brought to school in Harlem, a two hour commute in total. It makes for smoother family relations to be able to greet James’ mom as Tricia (and not “James’ Mom”) and to ask how her new job at the post office is going before delving into James’ school life. It makes for a great Monday morning conversation when you saw your students at the school picnic on Saturday and played Frisbee with Jordan, let Robert pet and play with your dog, and played peek-a-boo with Marian’s baby brother. *All things that have actually happened but with student names changed of course. We are able to soften our views on the students as we see them more and more as little people and less as our clients.

 

And just as we aim to soften our views on them, we want them to soften their views on us. When they walk in the door, your demeanor, your expression, and your words, will tell them exactly how you feel about them, will help determine what kind of day it will be, and will represent who you are as a teacher. When you share along with the students during share time, when you bring in family pictures, and talk about your pets, you are humanizing yourself. My birthday is in September and I always hold myself a little birthday party with my class. I bring in my own snacks and treats for the class and the students delight in singing Happy Birthday. And yes, I allow the “are you 1, are you 2…” song to get all the way up to my age (great math activity!) and they cheer and clap when I finally tell them to stop. I listen and smile inside when I hear comments such as, “That is older than my mommy,” and “My titi said you look like a teenager.” What bliss to have them making connections between their teacher and their family! I am honored.

 

When I teach writing lessons and model writing my own stories, I use real stories from my life. As the year goes on, students will say things like, “remember when Laila peed under your Christmas tree” and, along with that child, I can laugh out loud with a really belly laugh because, yes, I DO remember when Laila peed under my Christmas tree because it really happened. Parents will text me with, “I heard you and Ms. Williams ran a half marathon. Congrats!” And I can text back a genuine thank you and feel warmth in my heart because my students are not only listening to my stories but going home and sharing them with their families. Sharing our own stories and experiences is invaluable.

 

My students call me Ms. Katja, at a school where about 1/3 of the school goes by first name, so they obviously know my first name. But when I write my name atop my paper during lessons, I write Katja Frazier. And when another teacher comes in the room, they might refer to me as Katja, as I usually refer to Ms. Williams as Phaelyn when I am speaking directly to her, even if there are students around. One of my favorite times of the year is when a student will look at me and call me Katja with a sly smile. I quickly remind them that they forgot the Ms. but am secretly overjoyed. They are knowingly attempting to talk to me like a person, and not just a teacher. This inevitably happens, usually in the spring, and is never a surprise to me that someone attempted it. I know being called by your first name without the Ms. or Mr. might be too much for some teachers and that’s ok. But for the moment that it happens, to me, it represents a comfort level that I have been seeking all year.

 

So lets share our stories and our details and our emotions with our kids. If you are self-conscious about your age or name, or some other detail about your life, then don’t share it. But the idea is for students to see you as a human being. They will grow to love and respect you for the person you are as you grow to love and respect them for the people they are. When you humanize yourself, you will do more smiling, and less “because I told you to.” You are not a robot who collects homework and gives commands and calls home when a child is in trouble. Students will open up to you because you are a person, a human, a real being. Don’t wait to smile at Christmas. Slap a smile on before you even walk in on the first day. Smile when you are setting up your classroom and pour your love into the environment before they even get there. Smile as every child walks through the door, from the first day to the last, and mean it. Open up and let them in, even on your rough days, even when you might be struggling. Humanize yourself and your students and you will find yourself not wanting to let go on June 28^th.

 

My first day of school smile.

I woke up with an uneasy feeling today. I am sending Kingston off to a new school this morning. I am back to work next week but wanted his first day to be on a day I was around just in case (“just in case” of what haha). I am an educator, have only ever studied education, and have only ever had that as my job since age 21. I know, first hand, the importance of school, even at age 2. Social interactions, sharing, fun, routine, structure, new songs, doing things in a group: reading, lunch, clean up, games, resting. But, I unfortunately know that in this climate, school can also be detrimental to some of our most important values: creativity, imagination, playfulness, risk taking.

I don’t have much choice at the moment though, as I have to work, and so, Kingston will head into school today. I want him to go in remembering who he is and what he loves. I want him to be kind and try new things and take risks and stand up for himself. For a fun and calm morning, on our main work/play table, I set out some reminders of the best parts of our summer together:

-His absolute favorite book that, no matter how many other books we read at bedtime, this one has to be the last.

-Some dollhouse figurines. Our dollhouse was the best purchase of the summer. It became one of Kingston’s favorite toys and he has enjoyed sharing it with kids age 1 to age 9 and adults (as it came on both of our week-long vacations with us). I bought two different sets of figures to blend them into a multiracial family.

-Marbles! I set out marbles one day a few weeks ago on his Ikea table that has a little lip around the edge so they don’t fall off. It quickly became an obsession. He now takes them out regularly to roll them around and watch them knock into each other and spread. Science in motion!

-Our small Grimms rainbow and Grimms rainbow people. I set these out to remind him of all the open-ended play we enjoyed: building, pretending, trying, creating, experimenting.

-Pieces found in nature. We amassed a large collection of treasures this summer from the beach and the park and other places we went. These shells and pinecones and pieces of wood are to remind him of the adventures we took to find these items.

-Candle. If you follow me on IG, you know that we now have candles as part of a few daily routines (mealtime, bedtime, and sometimes quiet time). Candles such a big part of our summer that I couldn’t leave one out.

I don’t know what he will to with this set up. Maybe he will play with it or maybe he will just look at come back to it when I pick him up from school this afternoon. I will talk to him about our summer memories. Even with a large vocabulary, he is still only 2, so he doesn’t have the words to share every memory. But I know he listens intently and, sure as the sky is blue, he understands everything I say. I just hope it reminds him to stay playful, creative, talkative, imaginative, kind, and thoughtful as he walks into a room of two year olds that he doesn’t yet know.

In my pocket: probably a cup of rice

From early on, I knew I wanted to engage Kingston’s mind and senses in a way that was different from the way store bought toys do. I have been giving opportunities for different forms of play for a while now. But since around 7 or 8 months, I have actively tried to provide opportunities for sensory play. What does this mean? I set up situations where Kingston will feel different textures, hear different sounds, practice fine motor skills, practice playing independently, get messy, use new and old materials in different ways with his hands, get his whole body involved, etc. Luckily, Google is God and Pinterest is my best friend. I don’t have to come up with brand new ideas, just find them online and try them in a way that suits me and him. Again, I didn’t make this stuff up! I just use what I find! But people have asked me about it, so here are the answers to two of the questions I hear the most.

 

What is in Kingston’s sensory bin?

Anything and everything! Here are some things we have used (NOT all at once).

Objects made of different materials: wood, stone, plastic, metal, rubber.

Food with different textures and colors: wet or dry spaghetti (ziti, penne, bowtie, etc.), rice, cheerios, rice crispy cereal, yogurt, food coloring.

Outdoor materials: bean pods that fall from trees, leaves, rocks, sticks, twigs, water.

Art materials: pipe cleaners, felt pieces, large beads, paint, packing peanuts, foam shapes.

Recyclable materials found around the house: toilet paper tubes, paper towel tubes, bottle caps in different sizes, baby food jars, plastic spoons, egg cartons.

Things to scoop with, fill up, and pour from: spoons, shovels, funnels, rakes, yogurt cups, baby bottles.

Pre-made toys: plastic animals and dinosaurs, balls of different sizes, magnetic letters, foam letters

 

What does Kingston do in his sensory bin?

Wellllll, that depends on the day, his age, his mood, and what is in the bin. I often set up an invitation to play (set out the materials and leave it where he can see it and engage at his will) when he is on his way home from his dad’s house so that way it is out when he gets here. Here are some examples of sensory play experiences I have provided for him, his age, and what it looked like. You might notice that most of the early ones include edible materials. All experiences require some degree of adult supervision, with CONSTANT supervision in the early months. This is also not an exhaustive list of everything we’ve done but a pretty full one.

 

Yogurt Painting:

7.5 months old. I wanted Kingston to do his first painting but without real paint. I mixed some plain Greek yogurt with food coloring and put it on paper in front on him. He was in a diaper and on a mat (actually two clean puppy pee pads but you gotta work with what you’ve got!). He couldn’t totally sit up on his own for more than maybe 30 seconds to a minute. He stuck his hands in the yogurt, hit the paper a few times, ate it off his fingers, and cried. The experience lasted about 2.5 minutes.

 

Rice Crispy Cereal:

  

 

8 months. I put a bunch of rice crispy cereal into a small bin and sat him in front of it. He reached into the bin, squeezed the cereal, picked up handfuls of it, tasted some of it, drooled into the bin, and then hit and smashed the cereal a bit more. This experience likely lasted 3-5 minutes. But the set up was super fast!

 

Colorful Spaghetti:

     

First time was around 9 months. But this was a favorite from the age of 9 months to about 12 months so it was done many times with different colors, on playdates, in a baby workshop, and alone at home. I found online how to make colorful pasta with food coloring. The first time I was ambitious and made blue, green, AND red. Put them all into a bin separately. He sat next to the bin and reached in and pulled the pasta, tasted it, squeezed it, threw it into the air, threw it behind him, pulled at it with both hands as the colors started mixing, tasted some more, and then crawled away from it to get a book off the shelf. This lasted probably 6-8 minutes the first time we tried it.

 

My friend and I took our kids camping this summer. Her daughter is 8, and Kingston was about 13 months. There wasn’t much for Kingston to do independently in the woods. So we filled a container of water and threw a few cups in and he had his own water play experiences while we attempted to build a fire and cook.

 

Among many other places we have visited, Kingston enjoyed the hands on water play at the Brooklyn Children’s Museum.

 

 

Balls:

14 months. I put a bunch of different colored and sized balls into a large bin. Until now, this bin held shoes under my bed. I gave away some shoes and fit the rest into my closet so this bin could now be dedicated for play. He sat in the pile of balls, tried to walk over them, picked them up and squeezed them, and eventually threw most of them out of the bin. That was about it. It was available to him for a few days but each time he went near it, he only used the materials for about five minutes.

 

      

Just a little 15 month old painter.

 

Rocks and Animals:

   

15 months. I put many different rocks and shells into his large bin. I will admit I bought many of the rocks as a set from Michaels because they were smooth and I didn’t worry about sharp edges (as opposed to rocks from the park… I was still learning!). I cut up pieces of felt to include in the bin and then spread out many different small plastic animals. Kingston was interested in bringing his dinosaurs into the bin and then throwing the rocks. He climbed in and out and in and out and in and out. I would pick up rocks and hand them to him and he would lift them up and down a few times and then throw them. A lot of rocks were thrown over the next ten minutes and they were not light. I didn’t leave this bin out unless I was in the room and sitting with him because the rocks were so heavy that it became a safety hazard.

 

Pom Poms and Feathers:

     

15 months. Soon after the rocks and shells bin I decided to go with something very light to give contrast to what he just experienced. I put in feathers and pom poms that I purchased at Michaels, along with a few empty yogurt containers, a toilet paper tube, a small and large shovel, and an old baby food jar (he hasn’t had baby food since like six months so obviously I was saving materials for a while!). Kingston enjoyed scooping up pieces in the larger shovel and flinging them up because they would fly up and then land on his head or behind him or in the bin. He also liked filling the glass jar with pom poms and then dumping them out many times over. He enjoyed this bin for anywhere from five to twelve minutes during the week or so that I had it out and available to him. This one I just left out so he could go to it whenever he wanted, even if I was doing something else. It was safe enough for him to do on his own.

 

Shaving Cream in a Large Bin:

16 months. I sprayed shaving cream into his large bin and squeezed some drops of food coloring on top. I stripped Kingston into a diaper for this one. He was reluctant to touch anything so I put him into the bin. He touched the shaving cream and then looked at me. I stuck my hand in and put some onto my nose. He stuck his hands and feet in and squeezed the shaving cream. He patted his hands around. Then within three minutes he climbed out of the bin and ran around the house touching things. He laughed at his shaving cream footprints. I reassured myself that shaving cream is basically soap. It was a huge mess but one of the easiest to clean up! Thank goodness because it lasted less than 5 minutes total.

 

Shaving Cream in a Small Bin:

      

16 months. This was a week after the not so successful shaving cream in the large bin experience. I sprayed shaving cream into a smaller bin and added some food coloring. Then I put in a shovel and a scooper and stuck a bunch of his plastic animals in. He scooped for a bit and would get mad when the shaving cream was stuck to the shovel. Then he noticed the animals and picked each one up. I kept adding more so he kept finding animals in the bin. The whole activity lasted about ten minutes.

 

Dry Pasta:

16 months. It was way to hot in my apartment and I wasn’t feeling very well. I opened a box of ziti and threw it into the small bin. I looked through my sensory materials (yes I have a spot in the closet now for them!) and grabbed the pipe cleaners, which Kingston had never seen before, and put a few in. When Kingston found the bin he stuck his hands inside and enjoyed moving the pasta around because it made a loud noise. He did that for a while. I showed him how to thread the pasta onto a pipe cleaner, although I knew that was too hard for him to do on his own. He held a pipe cleaner and tried and tried and tried to get a piece of pasta onto it. I held the pipe cleaner for him and he was able to do it. Over and over and over and over and over again. Pasta on, pasta off, pasta on, pasta off. He was proud of himself and smiled each time. We probably used this bin together for over 15 minutes.

 

“Cloud Dough”

Almost 17 months. I made “cloud dough” from a recipe online. It includes flour and baby oil. I put some baby bottle caps and a few plastic spiders into the bin. We took it outside to use with friends from the building in the park. We also brought a tray for shaving cream and a bag of dried pasta. This might have been too much at once, along with being in a different location than usual and also on a play date. Kingston was not interested in the sensory items at all as he was much more interested in running to the playground and making me catch him or sitting on my lap. BUT his friends had a blast. One of them basically swam in the cloud dough and shaving cream, touching it, squeezing it, putting it on herself, sitting in it, climbing over it. And his other friend enjoyed picking up a few pieces of dried pasta and trying to fit them into each other. So fun to see the different personalities of babies when they attempt these activities together.

 

Rain Play:

      

Almost 17 months. OK, so this isn’t specifically a sensory play idea but it actually IS sensory play. I put Kingston’s rain boots and raincoat on and we went to the park across the street on a very rainy day. He walked through puddles, picked up wet leaves and threw them in the air, ran around, tried to lift heavy rocks, and helped me collect a few nature items to bring home. The sensation of rain on his face instead of sun, and walking in boots instead of sneakers and on a wet ground instead of dry, feeling the wind and seeing people run past as we slowly strolled (seeing a wet rat near the bushes instead of a dry one, eek!)… things he would never learn from an indoor activity! This activity lasted about 45 minutes.

 

Halloween Objects:

17 months. When I took down my Halloween box and then proceeded to be too busy to decorate for Halloween, Kingston opened it and found a closed package of fake spider webs and brought it to me. He babbled and bounced up and down and made the sign for “more.” I said why the heck not and opened the package. Luckily his large bin was empty at the time so I spread out the spider webs and added in some fake pumpkins, monster fingers, and a few plastic bugs and spiders. He got excited and reached right in, pulling things out over and over. But he got frustrated very quickly because the dumb fake spider web sticks to everything it touches and he couldn’t escape from it even if he walked away from the bin. But he did enjoy picking up the fake pumpkins and throwing them onto the fluffy web, until they started sticking of course. I consider this one a flop.

 

Rice:

         

17 months. We did this today. Kingston was home sick today at his dad’s house. So I had time to create this bin before he got home. I poured rice into the bin (left over from a sensory experience in kindergarten last year so of course I brought it home!). I added a few gourds and some fake pumpkins. I also added the large white and small orange pumpkins that we had gotten at the apple orchard last weekend. Then I found a few wooden pieces we had recently collected outside and added them in too, along with some glass jars. Kingston went straight for the bin when he walked in the door. He sat on the side and touched the rice. Then he put some into a fake pumpkin and then into a glass jar. He scooped the rice and dumped it out. He dug his hands into it and dragged the gourds through it. After a while, he got out his coloring book and a maker sat down next to the bin and signed “help,” handing me the marker. I helped him open the marker. He drew on his coloring book and then used the marker to drag through the rice and poke into the rice. He tossed the marker to the side when he saw the wooden pieces and then started digging into and swirling the rice with those pieces. The floor was a total mess when he walked away. I swept up the rice but left the bin there. A little while later he came back and climbed into the bin. He dug into the rice for a bit and then started lifting handfuls and throwing them into the air, out of the bin, and all over the floor. After not too long I decided rice play was done for the day. I know I will find rice around this apartment until Kingston leaves for college. This time I had to move the bin out of reach because he didn’t want to stop playing. Rice play lasted for about twenty minutes.

 

So, why sensory play for Kingston?

As you can see from my descriptions, there’s no magic happening in Kingston’s sensory bin, just everyday regular baby/toddler learning.

He is practicing pinching, pulling, squeezing, lifting, digging, rolling, smelling, tasting, filling, scooping, pouring, shaking, listening, and many other verbs. He is learning to play on his own. He is seeing new materials and finding new ways to use old materials. He is building stamina for working on one activity (started at around 2 minutes and today he played for close to 20!). He is working on his fine motor skills, something he was actually behind in previously. Are these all things he can learn from a myriad of other toys and experiences? Yes, of course! I am using a sensory bin in our home to add to his other play opportunities and out of the home experiences and to help him grow as a little person. I enjoy finding new things that I can present to him as an invitation to play. If I am too tired to play with him or to think of something new, I just throw some things into a bowl, like bottle caps, cotton balls, magnetic letters, or q-tips (he loves q-tips!). When I do sit with him, I talk to him about what he is doing and help name the objects he is working with. Sometimes I just sit next to him and play and dig and scoop and pour on my own, without interacting with him. Sometimes I go in the other room and peek in to see him work by himself. I love seeing this little person developing at his own rate, in his own time, and with his own very special personality.

I have now had too many experiences of seeing internet commenters completely destroy an article/author online for whatever reason (they didn’t understand it, they didn’t agree with it, they wanted to cause drama, they are sitting behind a computer screen and forget that the author is a real person and not just another computer, etc.). It happened to me in February when I posted on a very popular mom site and I got a little bit too emotional about it. So, unfortunately, for the moment, I feel I need to give a disclaimer before everything I post, at least until I feel comfortable again.

Disclaimer:  I don’t give my son a bath every day. I don’t fight with him to eat his vegetables. I sometimes give in to what he wants if he throws a tantrum in Target. I have the television on far too much when he’s home. We eat food off the floor in my house and I let him lick rocks outside. He is growing up in a non-traditional family situation that some people might not understand or agree with. There are many things I didn’t/don’t do the “right” way. But I do read to him every day. This is an explanation of why I do that, not a judgment on those who don’t.

In my pocket: a book

I grew up in a reading, writing, and storytelling home. I don’t remember a time when my mom didn’t have a stack of books next to her bed, her summer conquests ready to be devoured. My parents spent weekend mornings reading through sections of the New York Times and then folding up or passing along each section as they finished it. My sister and I spent every evening listening to chapters of The Little Prince or stories from The People Could Fly. Or, my dad would pull out an old typewriter and “type” as he weaved us a tale and acted it out with our stuffed animals. It’s safe to say that we all read, and we read a lot.

I also literally pay my bills by teaching young people to read every day.        Reading is important to me.

My reading journey with Kingston began the day I first met him. I say the day I first met him and not the day he was born because there were 30 agonizing hours between those two events. When Kingston was born via emergency c-section quite unexpectedly at 32 weeks, I didn’t have a bag packed or any of my things with me. My mom went home after my surgery with a list of things I needed.

Included on that list: contact solution, phone charger, hair ties, leave-in conditioner, underwear, pajama pants, robe, and at least two picture books. I knew that within those first few days I would begin reading to him.

When a baby is born premature and in the NICU, one of the absolute most important things to help them grow and develop is what they call kangaroo care. So, starting from 30 hours after his birth, my job was to pump milk for him and kangaroo him as much as I could. I would perch myself in an arm chair next to his incubator, place him on my bare chest inside my shirt, and just talk, sing, and read to him. For 28 days I read him stories that he couldn’t understand and talked to him about pictures that he couldn’t see. Most of the time he was asleep but I read with expression, gave the characters voices, laughed at the funny parts, and even confided in him when I thought a book was pointless (and then didn’t bring that one the next day).

Once Kingston got home I continued to read to him every day, and, at 15 months, he is a reader. He knows how to read at 15 months?!? No, of course not, he can’t even talk! But he is a reader. He can hold a book, listen to stories, turn pages, look at the pictures, and sometimes babble as he “reads”. He is a reader, in a 15 month old way. I asked myself this morning, why do you read to him every day? What is he getting out of it? What can a mini toddler know and understand about reading now that he didn’t 15 months ago?

Without the pressure of actually having to learn to read, what can a very young child know as a tiny reader?

For my own sake, I made a list:

-Kingston knows that reading and listening to stories is pleasurable, shown by the fact that he constantly brings books to me and plops down in my lap

-He knows that books can be enjoyed many times, evident when he shows the sign for “more” every time I finish the Duck and Goose Dance Party book

-He knows that many different people can read to you as he is regularly read to by me, his dad, both of my parents, and a babysitter (even by a voice on the stereo when I play a book on CD)

-He knows that books are to be read and are different from toys, which are to be played with (or thrown around, depending on his mood)

-He knows that you can listen to books sitting, standing, or even dancing (especially when I sing a rhyming book to him)

(You can even read wearing an elephant costume)

-He knows that many voices can be used when reading, and he laughs when he thinks a voice is funny

-He knows how to hold a book and turn pages

-He knows that some books have special parts to touch (touch and feel books) or to open (lift the flap books), or even have pictures that pop out at you (pop up books)

-He has heard words in books that he may not have otherwise heard yet in his life. For example, the word hare in the book Guess How Much I Love You, or the words cha cha, tango, and waltz in the book Giraffes Can’t Dance

-He has seen books with hardly any color (Blueberries for Sal, Harold and the Purple Crayon, Olivia, Not a Box), rhyming books (Bear Snores On, Whose Knees Are These?), books with a lesson (Hey Little Ant, William’s Doll), long stories (Mirandy and Brother Wind, The Color of Home), alphabet and number books, board books and paper books, different versions of the same story (Goodnight Moon, Goodnight Gorilla, Goodnight NYC), many books by Ezra Jack Keats, Mo Willems, and Oliver Jeffers, and even a wordless book that I pulled off the shelf the other day and then kicked myself because I didn’t feel like making up a story at the moment (mom’s get tired too!)

-He knows that books can be enjoyed in most places, including (but not limited to): his bedroom, my bedroom, the living room, the bathtub (they have tub books!), his stroller, the park, an Amtrak train, an airplane, and anyone’s house he visits.

-He also knows some silly things like books can be pulled off a shelf over and over again and stepped on or that they sometimes make a loud noise when you drop them.

(From the NICU to our couch, this same book has been read many times over the past 15 months)

These are all things that he knows/has learned just from being exposed to various types of books, in various places, by various people, on a constant basis. I am consciously raising Kingston in a reading-rich home. I love reading and Kingston loves reading and that’s all I really need at the moment in terms of his literacy development. But, I am amazed by him every day and proud of what he knows. It’s amazing how much a crying, tantrum throwing little person can know about reading (and many other topics/ideas) before they even how to talk. I feel no pressure to teach him letters or sounds or words (he signs about 9 signs since he doesn’t say any words yet but has the need to communicate). Just incorporating reading into our every day lives makes it easy to look forward to continuing our reading journey together.

(Next step, becoming a writer! Haha)

*This piece was written in August 2016 during back to school week. I find it relevant now as I head back to work for the 2017-2018 school year tomorrow*

 

In my pocket: a list of landmarks in Harlem

We scavenged, we hunted, and we found what we were looking for.

This week was PD week at school. For those non teachers, PD means professional development. It is when we get together as a staff without students in the building. We participate in ice breakers, give hugs to all our old friends, get to know new teachers. We sit through sessions on technology, the personnel handbook, and receive our daily schedule. I sometimes lead sessions and this year is was a dissection of a guided reading lesson. Teachers prepare their rooms for a new group of kids who will enter into the building this coming week.

The whole week was about preparing and learning. I also help run a committee at our school that is all about promoting school community, staff unity and morale, and school culture. We planned and hosted a scavenger hunt of our Harlem neighborhood this year.

It was a very rainy Thursday. The school had gotten us all matching shirts and we told everyone to wear comfortable shoes. As I slipped into my t-shirt and flip flops that morning, I checked the weather app and it said sporadic showers throughout the day. I crossed my fingers that it would be clear out by 2 o’clock and went about my day. I spent a few hours with my committee perfecting the teams, checking our list over and over, copying and counting everything to make sure we were ready. It was 1:55 and our committee shakily walked into the library where the staff was waiting, not knowing what the reactions would be.

As my mouth opened to talk, so did the sky. Huge rain drops began pelting the window air conditioner units and as other people’s faces dropped, we tried to widen our smiles. We explained the task of joining your team and heading out into Harlem to reach different locations where you would then take a selfie and text it to us (the judges). We talked about bonus points and bringing back brochures and business cards. Sometimes it was hard to continue because a large portion of the group looked at us like we were crazy to be sending them out into the streets in the rain. At times it sounded as if the tropical storm expected next week had blown in a few days too early. I didn’t exactly know what to say when people asked, “What if it is still pouring at 2:30 when we begin?” I pointed to someone’s umbrella as I thought to myself, How can I make people go out into the rain to search for locations if I wouldn’t want to go out in this weather either? I thought about all the bulletin board paper that needed to get hung up, the offices that still needed organizing, copies to be made, rugs to be vacuumed, pencils to be sharpened, trips to Staples that still had to be taken. I thought about my own boxes of materials still shoved into a closet that hadn’t seen the light of day since June.

I held the list in front of me with 32 locations on it. Maya Angelou’s brownstone, the Jazz Museum, the National Black Theater, The West Harlem Piers, the Harlem YMCA. All these places that we wanted people to find. These places that would help our staff have a better understanding of the neighborhood we call home for 7, 8, sometimes 11 hours a day. I asked myself, If it is pouring out and there is work to be done, why dothey need to spend hours outside finding these places?

But as I began to lose hope, a staff member, Ted, shouted out, “I’ll buy a drink at happy hour for my team if we win!” Note: the event was ending with a staff happy hour. He said this with a genuine smile and I looked at him with thankful eyes. Two other staff members got up and shouted the same thing. And as one teacher, Raquel, heard that she was on Ted’s team, she ran up screaming and hugging him as if she had gotten called to the stage on The Price is Right. Everyone laughed and clapped. From then on, as teams were announced, clapping and cheering ensued. Some people slipped out the door and who could blame them? But for the most part, people became eager to find their team. Ted and Raquel didn’t realize it, and maybe I didn’t either at the time, but they had just found the first thing on the scavenger hunt list. It was in invisible ink between the Apollo and the State Building typed out on our list.

They had just found enthusiasm.

Our committee of six pulled out pens and pencils and scribbled and switched and moved people around to form teams of whoever was left to participate. One staff member who didn’t think she could come came running down the hall five minutes after we began and said she wanted to join in. We very happily added her to a team. A team of two and a team of three went off and somehow created a team of five. Another team of three lost two members halfway through because they had to go pick up their kids and came back as a team of just one. Low and behold, we had already checked off the second thing on our list. It was nestled between Lasker Rink and the Duck Pond at Morningside Park.

We had found flexibility.

It was something our committee didn’t even realize we were hunting for until we needed to switch things up last minute and go with the flow when people made their own teams and dropped off of teams before and during the event.

At 2:30, our phones began to ping as teams took selfies to signal that they began the event. We rushed to the restaurant so we could sit and start tallying up the scores. As we raced through the rain, we kept checking our phones and laughing and shouting to each other about the photos we were receiving. We got to the restaurant and, all too loudly, took over a large booth and frantically scribbled to keep score. We hooted and hollered and we shared photos that the teams were sending us. As they texted us photos, we would write back with messages like keep up the great work and what a creative photo, you get extra points! And as those messages were received by the teams, the photos began to change. They got more creative, they got funnier. The teams seemed to be getting to places faster and faster. We had found the next thing on our hunt list.

Hidden somewhere within the lines, we checked off encouragement.

We laughed louder and louder and after a few hours when teams clambered into the restaurant we would cheer for them and clap and wonder if/when the restaurant would kick us out for being too raucous. Team members came in soaking wet and with huge smiles on their faces. They headed downstairs to the happy hour and we continued to tally up scores and discuss winners.

It was clear that our staff had found the most important bonus items concealed within our list: playfulness, fun, and optimism.

They had run out into the rain and decided to give it their all. And as they gave it their all, we gave it our all and the cycle continued. By the time the event was over, people were asking us about the next culture event and giving suggestions on a new scavenger hunt. They were sharing information about locations they discovered and talking about places they wanted to return to, maybe with students, but definitely with new friends. Turns out that by the third time a team went into the Harlem YMCA to collect a brochure, the front desk members were asking about us. They wanted to know about our school and why we were running around in matching shirts asking for brochures.

We found something that even we didn’t realize we were looking for, community spirit.

We spoke to members of all teams to expose the nitty gritty of how they went about things. We found out which teams had clear leaders, which teams made a plan before going and who went with the flow. Turns out that one team spent half an hour strategizing before they left the building and then took an Uber around from place to place. Another team collected as many brochures as they possibly could to ensure to most number of points (they got bonus points for brochures and business cards). And still another team added in videos to try to gain creativity points.

And, yet again, something was checked off of our list, something we didn’t know would rear it’s head during this event, individuality.

Our Scavenger Hunt was designed to have staff members get to know each other and get to know Harlem. The locations and point values were carefully considered. The teams were deliberate. But as our staff scurried around the neighborhood and our smiles grew and spirits opened up, we checked off the REAL things we were hunting for. Knowing where the Harriet Tubman statue is will be helpful this year but bringing enthusiasm, flexibility, encouragement, playfulness, fun, optimism, community spirit and individuality into your classroom, into your job, and into your life will carry you much further.

As a staff, we scavenged, we hunted, and, I believe, we found what we were looking for.

*This is a piece I wrote August 2016.  I find it highly appropriate as one of my first posts on my revamped blog at the end of my second summer as a mom. This post represents me exactly one year ago*

In my pocket: Memories of yesterday

 

Remember that time when you ate half a package of chewy Chips Ahoy for lunch because the baby finally settled down and you couldn’t move a muscle and the cookies were sitting near you on the coffee table, taunting you? How you decided that cookies and ice cream were as good as any post pregnancy diet?

Remember that time you ran out of bibs and the laundry room in the building was closed for renovation and your baby eats like a little drunk man, half of the milk breaking free from the corner of his mouth, his latest outfit soaking it up like the last rays of the summer sun? Hence, the need for bibs? Remember how you saw that little stack of leftover newborn sized diapers? The itty bitty diapers you once thought he would never grow out of and now look to you like they were made for a baby mouse, they’re just so minuscule? And the light bulb went off and you realized there’s nothing more absorbent than a contraption designed for catching pee? And so you grabbed a diaper, flipped it inside out, slapped it under the baby’s chin, fastened it around his neck and popped that bottle into his mouth, telling him, “Spill away little one, you can’t ruin any outfits today because your mama is a genius!!”

 

Remember that time you needed to get out of the house and didn’t want to face the Target cashiers because you had been there three times already that week so you went downstairs from Target to the Home Depot instead? Remember how it was so hot out and the air conditioning felt so nice that you made a pact with yourself to walk every aisle before going back out into the heat? How you spent an implausible amount of time in the refrigerator section? And then found out that there are way too many varieties of nails and screws in existence? And then you found things with names like Paddle Switch Angle Grinder, and Wax Toilet Bowl Gasket and realized you don’t know as much as you thought you did about life? And then, as you were heading toward the door, the song Nobody Knows It But Me by Babyface came on and brought twinklings of tears to your eyes so you veered the stroller back around and pretended to be interested in the artificial plants instead of distracted by your eighth grade nostalgia?

Remember that time when the baby was all calm and quiet so you took the opportunity to pump? And of course, like the little stinker he is, he decides to throw a fit about ten minutes into your pumping session? Remember how you reached over to put in his plug (his, best invention since sliced bread, pacifier) and spilled breast milk out of the pumping bottle, into your lap, through your pants, and into many layers of couch cushions?

How you, quite literally, cried over spilt milk.

Remember that time you rushed out the door to try to make it to story and sing along hour at a local library? And you got on the train just in time to realize you didn’t know exactly where the library was, just that you had to get off on 116^th street? And that something was wrong with your phone so you couldn’t Google the location? And then cursed yourself for not having gone to Verizon yet to fix your phone problem? Remember how you texted both of your parents to ask for the address of the library, placing bets on which one would get back to you first? And then you won the bet against yourself as your dad called you within a minute with the exact location? And as you ran down the street you thought to yourself, what are parents for if not for last second directions to library story hour?

Remember what happened at story sing along hour? How you were so flustered from running down the block when you got there that you continued to sweat through the whole half hour ordeal? Sweating while frantically bouncing little K and singing Happy and You Know It, Mr. Sun, and Itsy Bitsy Spider? Sweating and singing and ignoring the other parents’ quizzical stares as you continued to wipe your forehead and neck with paper towels? Remember how, when the singing ended, you sat in the corner, pretending to read board books to the baby, trying desperately to cool off before it was time to leave?

(Total faker. I was dripping sweat and miserable.)

Remember how you made the mistake of taking off the Moby wrap because it was adding ten degrees to an already hot situation? How you didn’t invest any advanced thinking on how in the world you’d get it back on? Remember how you wondered if it would raise too many eyebrows to ask the children’s librarian, whom you just met, to hold your baby while you wrap that darn wrap back on yourself? How you wanted to call the inventors of this great product and ask them, “How the heck do you expect me to get this on if I am not home and don’t have someone to hold my baby?!?” But the baby needed a new diaper anyway. So you went to the bathroom, changed him, and then looked at the changing table with a new appreciation. Remember how you thought, screw the athletes in Rio, I am a real champion, because you managed to pee AND then get the Moby wrap on while still holding one hand on the baby, balancing on the not quite sanitary changing table? Remember how you crossed your fingers that no one was waiting in line outside the door because you had, indeed, been in the bathroom for a good fifteen minutes?

Remember how you got that really cute hamper for baby K? You thought it was so perfect and stylish and you complimented yourself on it not being too “babyish” for a baby? Remember how you discovered that your tiny shrimp of a dog was tall enough to reach to the top of the hamper when full and pull Kingston’s clothes and bibs out? How Laila became so enamored by the smell of his milky attire that part of you has been tempted to pour some breast milk into her bowl for a sweet treat? Remember how every time you blink, half of his clothes are scattered around the floor? If only Laila could learn to put them IN the hamper, this could work out for both of us.

Remember that time that you really wanted to take Kingston swimming? So you traveled on the Metro North to a friend named Carla’s house to go swimming with her and her two toddlers? Remember how you two pushed strollers through streets, with and without sidewalks, for 30 minutes in 90 degrees to get to the pool? Remember how you got stuck on a grassy hill with a busy street on one side and a car dealership on the other? And how you zoomed down the hill with the strollers, getting stuck behind the parked cars and laughing the whole time? And how a man from the car dealership came out to see what the ruckus was all about? How he had to lift your single stroller with a teeny tiny guy and Carla’s double stroller with two good sized toddlers OVER the cars because you couldn’t fit in between? How the toddlers cheered and clapped as they flew up in the air and Kingston just slept right through it? Remember how it was worth the 1.5 hour commute each way, long walk in the sun, getting stuck on a hill and saved by a car salesman, just to give Kingston his first swimming experience and get sticky sweet from popsicles after?

Remember that time when the baby was grumpy all day? But you gave him a pass because you know that life is rough at 12 weeks old? Remember how he wouldn’t nap so you tossed him into his stroller to go for a nice long sleepy walk? Remember how when you got outside a stranger said to you, “You better be careful with that baby in the rain.” And how you made a mental note to never listen to strangers’ unsolicited advice because they offer it up waaaaay too often and it wasn’t even raining! And then when you got across the street and one block away, the first drops of water began to fall. And within five minutes you were running back toward the apartment, hating that the stranger was right, and mad at yourself for never having followed up on the stroller rain canopy that was out of stock when you went to buy it, the baby still screaming and now wet.

Remember how you learned to shave your legs, load the dishwasher, carry packages from downstairs, and send emails, all one handed, with another human being attached to you? Remember that time you couldn’t find someone to paint your bathroom? And you remembered that you were brought up as a strong and independent woman so you took it into your own hands? Remember how you wallpapered the bathroom all by yourself while the baby slept?

I remember this. I remember this all because it has happened within the past ten days. Since the baby’s release from the hospital, life has been chock full of adventures and funny stories and moments where I think I might be on Candid Camera. Whether I’ll remember each individual moment or not, I will always remember my first summer as a mom.

*Me and Kingston walking out of our second summer like true bosses compared to the chaos that was last year*