early childhood education

Milestones & Genetics, Motherhood, Respectful Parenting, The magic (in the mess). ♡

She’s got this.

01/21/2021 No Comments

A milestone happened in our house on Tuesday night. M rolled over for the first time! ⁣
⁣
All babies eventually turn over, and milestones are meaningful for every single one of them. I get that. This moment holds something more to me, though.⁣
⁣
O has had gross and fine motor delays for much of his life, starting from when he was very young. PT and OT have been a part of his journey (and mine — there have been many, many, many appointments). On paper, he’s still quite a bit “behind” for his age based on what other kids of a similar age can “typically” do. In time, he’ll get there.⁣
⁣
I have long felt mom guilt over his delays, however. Many a time I have wondered if my well intentioned parenting choices caused them. We didn’t really do tummy time as I didn’t believe in pushing him to be in positions he couldn’t get into himself. I let him be the lead, and I continue to do so to this day. Eventually, we found out he had low muscle tone, and that it was likely the culprit.⁣
⁣
But, despite knowing that, my anxiety doesn’t let me hear it.⁣
⁣
I don’t want that same journey for M. I don’t want those same struggles. So, I keep doing with her all that I hardly did with O… as if in some kind of hail mary attempt to avoid it. But, as hard as I try (and try do I ever), her tolerance for it is achingly minimal. Many a day she makes it happily on her tummy for less minutes that I can count on one hand.⁣
⁣
This, of course, has lead my worries to be convinced we are again on the same trajectory.⁣
⁣
And then on Tuesday she just rolled over out of the blue, as if it was the world telling me to calm the hell down.⁣
⁣
I hear you, world. I hear you.⁣
⁣
She’s got this.⁣
⁣
Happy five months, sweet girl. 💚⁣ ⁣

Motherhood

We need better books. (You probably do, too.)

01/09/2021 No Comments

Due to the ongoing/never-ending state of the world and my recent foray into #kidsbookstagram, I’ve been taking a MUCH closer look at the collection of books I have amassed for my children. In that looking, and to my shame, I have noticed something.⁣
⁣
The majority of our collection gets a FAILING grade on diversity and inclusion.⁣
⁣
I could blame this on the fact that 95% of the books we own are second hand. Furthermore, 90% have come from thrift stores like Value Village and Talize. In those instances, you pretty much get what you get. But, for the other 5% I purchased second-hand online, the same cannot be said.⁣
⁣
What it truly boils down to is this, however:⁣
⁣
I come to this realization in a position of privilege.⁣
⁣
As a white person, I’ve never had to sit down and ponder if there were enough books in our collection that represent us.⁣
⁣
I’ve never had to purposefully purchase or borrow books that represent us.⁣
⁣
White people hold this position of power.⁣
⁣
We are already in every book of nearly every type — to the point of over-saturation.⁣
⁣
People of differing colour, beliefs, abilities, sex, gender, sexual orientations – are not.⁣
⁣
All of this were things I already knew. But, did knowing it change or effect my children’s book collection? Nope.⁣
⁣
‘Cause as a white person, these are all taken for granted luxuries of our hegemonic identity.⁣
⁣
My beliefs in a socially justice world may be strong, and I have been strongly educated as such (thanks, @douglascollege and @capilanou) but I still have so so SO much more work to do — both on myself, and in the raising of my children. ⁣Part of this is reexamining the books we own, the books were read, and the conversations that come from these books.⁣
⁣
I humbly accept this moment of learning, and am committed to making a change.

Thanks, @nwplibrary, in helping me take a first step forward today.⁣

Motherhood, The magic (in the mess). ♡

Asking the REAL questions.

12/30/2020 No Comments

Here are the questions I asked myself as I attempted to make sense of this gong show of a board book collection:

Why do we own this many board books? W H Y?⁣
You know you can’t even fit all the ones we own on this shelf and you should probably stop buying them, yeah?⁣
Where the hell is our Gruffalo book?! I guess I’ll have to get another. ⁣
You know what makes for great photos, Sarah? A black bookshelf in a hallway that has dungeness lighting AND it’s a dark + dreary night. Bravo. ⁣
E-readers are so much easier to sort. How old can O be before he starts using one?⁣
Wait. No. Never. I have to have a reason to keep buying him and M pretty books for all of eternity. RIGHT?!⁣
None of how you’re organizing this makes sense, I hope you know. Do you?⁣
Why do we still own Rainbow Fish? Donate that nonsense.⁣
You didn’t buy “such and such” when you were out thrifting last. Why? Next time, next time. ⁣
WHYYYY DOES NOTHING FIT LIKE I WANT IT TOOOOOO?⁣
Have you ever heard of a damn library, woman?!⁣

I am a mess. No lie.

Motherhood

Nothing has changed.

12/03/2020 No Comments

I still love board books (and #kidlit in general!).⠀⠀
⠀⠀
Why? Here’s the history.

The first board book in our collection was purchased around five and a half years ago. In a thrift store and pregnant at the time with O, I came across the classic, Where’s Spot, and knew that I HAD to buy it. As an early childhood educator, I had seen first-hand how much joy Eric Hill brought to children in those pages and the magic hidden below the flaps, waiting to be lifted. The hunt and success of finding Spot was always such a celebrated ending, and one that brought smiles to all children alike. ⠀⠀
⠀⠀
As an avid reader and book appreciator, it also dawned on me then and there how much I wanted to pass that love on to O. So, over the years, one board book turned into ten, fifty, one hundred, and two hundred. I’ve lost count at how many we’re at now. The bonding experience through board books with my him has been incredible, however, and the structure of board books got me hooked. Sturdy, colorful, strong and meaningful, board books became a treasured part of the fabric of my relationship with my child, and followed us everywhere we went. ⠀⠀
⠀⠀
O is now nearly at the age of moving past board books now (*sad sigs!*). This past August I had M, however, which means at least another five years of board books to bond over, fall in love with together, and learn through. Luckily this means for me all the more opportunities to scavenge thrift stores for new and great (board book) finds, and opportunities to again reminisce with my children over my favourites. Some may say the birth of this second child was serendipitously timed. ;)⠀⠀
⠀⠀
There may or may not be more on this in the future, here in this blog. If there is and starts to be, now you know why!

Motherhood, Respectful Parenting

Educaring? What’s that?

08/11/2019 No Comments

When O was born, I worked on the floor as an ECE (I also did so [exhaustingly] for awhile after he was born, but that’s a story for another day). While pregnant, I deeply nested and dove into my ECE books (I spent a lot of time with this wonderful one), and in doing so, I became grounded in the tenements of RIE.

If you have no idea what RIE is, see here.

If you want to know what RIE means when it come to parenting, see here.

The more I learned about RIE, the more it began to shape the majority of my interactions with the children I worked with. Once O was born, it was my go to. It continues to be to this day. It hasn’t always been easy, and sometimes it asks of me to do things a LOT differently on this parenting journey than what is typical, but it has been SO worth it. D too follows RIE, and while at first I think that was due to my insistence, he has long come into his own with it all.

The bases (at least to me) of RIE lie in respecting, trusting and genuinely hearing the child(ren) in your life. This sounds simple enough, but it asks of you to turn SO many parenting standards directly on their head to really, really follow it through. Your language, actions, intentions and purpose? They all change. Seriously. Think about the process of authentically trusting and respecting a newborn, toddler, etc. Everything modern society is taught to do when parenting goes *exactly* against that, much without realizing it.

How so? I’ll leave that to the “experts” explain. One could first read about RIE through Magda Gerber. These days, Janet Lansbury is big on the scene with RIE, and she shares a lot of really great resources on how to go about making it a reality in your home and/or child care. Lisa Sunbury talks about it a lot, too.

(Note: I know that in the topic of respectful caregiving/parenting as a whole, there are a LOT more resources than these two, and it’s also called a lot more things now, too (i.e., Resptecful Parenting). Janet and Lisa were just my fallbacks as I learned, initially struggled with and came to strongly find my footing with RIE.)

I bring up the topic of RIE, as it matters immensely in my journey of being a parent. I’m not here to preach about it. I’m terrible at writing in this blog, so I likely won’t write about it, either. I rather wish for it to be known that in what I do post in this life, be it personally or here, RIE is the direction from which I’m/we’re working. It’s important, and it matters. RIE might not always make sense to you or perhaps seem a bit peculiar to you, and that’s okay. For our family, it works. Remarkably so.

And, if you’re curious, RIE might work for your family too! Let me know if you’d like to know more.

Motherhood, The magic (in the mess). ♡

For a few hours, that is.

11/25/2018 No Comments

Parenting is so weird.

Some days I’m pretty sure I’m the worst and that my kid is gonna grow up and think I’m the worst. Or that I look at my phone too much and am missing his whole life. Or that I should be better at socializing him on the weekends. Or that. Or that. Or that.

But then there are days we wake up, and happily engage him in putting away dishes and loading the dishwasher, putting away laundry and loading the washer, sweeping the kitchen, and helping pour and stir ingredients into the crock pot for dinner — all before 9:30AM like a Montessori/Waldorf (?) dream team, as he’s positively BEAMING the whole time.

And then I think again that this whole parenting thing is gonna be okay.

For a few hours, that is.

Motherhood, The magic (in the mess). ♡

I don’t know how to stop.

10/15/2018 No Comments

I have an obsession with buying/giving my kid books to read.

I don’t know how to stop.

I adore reading to him and do it lots, I keep finding amazing steals at Value Village (98% of these are second hand and were $1.25 each!) and I figure if you’re gonna spoil your kid, ya might as well do it with books in hopes of helping build a love of literacy.

Right?

Right?!?

Riiiiiiiiight?!?!?

Motherhood, Respectful Parenting

Every Child Matters.

09/28/2018 No Comments

I didn’t learn about residential schools until 2011. Having went to high school in the states, it was never covered in the curriculum (nor are there enough mentions of the atrocities committed against the Indigenous people there, but that’s a story for a different day). It was unsettling to have my picture perfect image of peaceful and kind Canada disrupted in such a way at the age of 27. Even more so by first finding out about them in a class of fellow college students, all younger than me, who were talking about the crimes of the residential schools like common knowledge. Wait, what?!⁣⁣
⁣⁣
But in learning about it, I learned how to be different. I learned how to better understand the systematic racism that prevents people of the First Nations of being able to do and simply be. I learned how to check my own ways of thinking, and how the world (and sometimes myself) can be so quick to Other something based off of unfounded fears and assumptions. I also learned how to ask better of the people around me, and to not be afraid to call them on bullshit that does nothing but further divide us. Not just for myself, but for children in this world that deserve so, so much more.⁣⁣

My coworker and I wore these shirts today. On the way out of work we were stopped by a teenager. Our office is rented through the Burnaby Neighbourhood House, and it runs lots of community programs for people of various cultures and circumstances, etc. The teenager asked my coworker what our shirts meant. Having seen them earlier in school that day worn by his fellow peers, he didn’t know what they represented, and wanted to know more.

I too still have a lot to learn. Too many of us do. #orangeshirtday day is just a step of many that need to come next in terms of truth and reconciliation. One that I will soon took with my son. It’s a step I’ll be proud to take.
⁣⁣
#everychildmatters

Milestones & Genetics, Motherhood

My heart soars.

05/18/2018 No Comments

O’s childcare is slowly getting him used to being in the 3-5 room, as he will be moving to it in September (he will be getting a support worker to help him once he gets there, thankfully).

His impending move has slowly meant spending time with children significantly older than him. They all walk, run and are quite tall. Especially when you are stuck in the third percentile and essentially sitting nearly everywhere you go (with scooting being his main form of transportation). Sometimes, it can be scary when the world and everyone in it towers over you.

But, and this is what brings me to feel an overflowing abundance of joy, the 3-5s have started to notice this. In ways of empathy, acceptance and brilliance, they have realized that he needs people on his level. So, yesterday, they began to scoot with him. They sat on the ground with him. They played with him. All in ways where they could equally reach, interact and socially engage.

My heart aches at times to see O’s differences and the special rights that he needs. At times like these, however, it soars.

Motherhood, Respectful Parenting, The magic (in the mess). ♡

THIS.

03/28/2018 No Comments

Trust him.

Respect him. ⁣
⁣
Observe him. ⁣
⁣
Listen to him. ⁣
⁣
Ceremoniously slow. ⁣
⁣
Wait. ⁣
⁣
Breathe. ⁣
⁣
Soften. ⁣
⁣
He’s not giving you a hard time, he’s having a hard time. ⁣
⁣
We are on the same team. ⁣
⁣
Don’t react, respond. ⁣
⁣
He’s only little once. ⁣
⁣
Remember how old he is. ⁣
⁣
Do with, as opposed to do to. ⁣
⁣
You are here to help, not make it worse. ⁣
⁣
You do have time for this. ⁣
⁣
This is what matters. ⁣
⁣
Set limits early. ⁣
⁣
When you know better, you can do better. ⁣
⁣
This is an opportunity to connect. ⁣
⁣
What need is he communicating?⁣
⁣
Where is he coming from?⁣
⁣
Talk aloud what’s happened.⁣
⁣
This is not an emergency. ⁣
⁣
I am where I need to be. ⁣
⁣
This is age appropriate. ⁣
⁣
Treat him how you’d like to be treated. ⁣
⁣
Share your calm, don’t join the chaos. ⁣
⁣
Acknowledge the inner delight. ⁣
⁣
See the effort, voice the effort. ⁣
⁣
Be consistent. ⁣
⁣
It’s not personal. ⁣
⁣
I am here. ⁣
⁣
I hear you. ⁣
⁣
Your words today will become his inner voice tomorrow. ⁣
⁣
He’s doing his best. ⁣
⁣
Hours are long, but the years are short. ⁣
⁣
It’s harder for him than it is for me. ⁣
⁣
Let feelings be, they don’t belong to me. ⁣
⁣
Be who you want him to be.

Motherhood, The magic (in the mess). ♡

She works.

11/17/2017 No Comments

A year ago today I went back to work after my mat leave.

Biggest things I’ve learned so far?

Being a mom and working full-time is no freakin’ joke.
I’m tired. Not newborn tired, but it rivals what came after that. Weekends have never, ever been sweeter, though they are now much harder than they ever were before.
I feel like I have no brain cells. I’ve come to realize my brain pre and post mat leave are two dramatically different things. Post mat leave brain is still struggling to understand what that means, on top of fitting everything else into it that I’m now asked of.
I have very little time for mostly anything. Between work demands, parenting demands, and personal demands, the time I have in my life is stretched so thin that a flick of the wrist could break it’s mere illusion.
And I miss my kid. A whole freakin’ lot. Picking him up from childcare everyday fills me with such a sweet, blissful, contentment. It makes me whole. My heart feels radiant and complete. And saying goodbye to him the next morning is a bittersweet event that always, always comes too soon.

But there is something undeniably needed in this crazy, exhausted, sometimes dead brain of mine: a purpose beyond myself and my world. One that gives. That cares. That spreads joy. That empowers. That helps.

And so work I will.

Motherhood, The magic (in the mess). ♡

Tomorrow will always, always come.

11/07/2016 No Comments

Tomorrow is my first day of being back to work post mat-leave.

There are so very very very very many thoughts coursing throughout my brain on this eve of stepping again into the working life I once had while saying goodbye (for now, at least) to the everyday, day-long rituals of my son and I as we lived as one, breathed as one, cried as one, laughed as one and found a sweet, peaceful solace as one. I will miss those days always, and ache for them I know that I will.

But it is time for me to use my brain again. It is time for it to hurt again as I wrestle in ways theoretical, philosophical and pedagogical. It is time for me to bring that which I have struggled with, questioned with and embraced with of motherhood and to see what of it gives rise to my being as an educator, collaborator and enricher.

Don’t let this fool you into thinking I am ready.

I’m not.

But tomorrow will always, always come.

Mental Health, Motherhood, The magic (in the mess). ♡

Precious, brutal, beautiful and exhausting reality.

04/10/2016 No Comments

Before I ever became a parent and, at times, before I had an inkling that I might like to be a mom, I worked (and still technically do while on mat leave) in the field of early childhood education. To it I brought a bachelors of ECE and, prior to giving birth, racked up about four and half years of experience in the field — both with ITs (infant/toddlers) and TFs (three to fives). During the entirety of my pregnancy I was employed knee deep in the trenches of toddlerhood, and I believed that I’d be bringing to motherhood a cornucopia of knowledge and experience. Others in my life continually reinforced this thought of mine. With all of this on my resume, how could I not?!

Ha.

Haaaa.

Hahahahahahaha.

Too bad I had absolutely NO FREAKIN’ IDEA what to do with said knowledge and experience. Upon O’s birth, I was blindsided. My education, something my sweet husband anxiously worried would set me far ahead of him parenting wise, it felt like it meant nothing. My employment, and the fact that I had previously been working all day long with ITs, it was laughable and hardly the real thing — I got to send them home at the end of the day! My passions that I brought to the field of ECE, and the beliefs I garnered throughout it of children and childhood, it fell to shambles in the midst of a postpartum depression that could no longer even tell who I was when I looked in the mirror.

This should hopefully be news to no one, but nothing, and I mean NOTHING, can prepare you for being a first time mom. Anybody or anything that tries to tell you differently is lying. All that I brought to it (which I felt was a lot!) and the preconceived notions I had of it being otherwise, they were broken. Broken as in picked up, shattered to the ground, stomped all over, set on fire and then blown into the abyss. It was a delusional, humbling and hot mess of confusion for a good while there.

Now that I’ve survived the first four months of O’s life and know what it is to sleep again, I am thankfully beginning to see where my education, employment and passions can start being applied (more on that later). I am able to finally dig into those reservoirs and have them be useful, when before it felt as if they would drown me. I am excited for what awaits in that regard (also more on that later!). Most importantly and with relief, I have now added to that repertoire what I didn’t realize I lacked before. The grounded experience of REALITY.

Precious, brutal, beautiful and exhausting reality.