Tag: helping kids learn

An Example That Will Bless Our Children

This week, I began cleaning the top shelves that encircle my living room and the two bedrooms. It’s a big job, requires a ladder, and the accumulated dust is incredible. I only do this once a year.

As I dusted the books, I thought: “One day I will be sitting at the table reading all these wonderful books, learning so much. It’s going to be amazing.” I was thinking about the years between ninety and one hundred, yes, I plan to be around that long and won’t be alone until then. LOL I wouldn’t be caregiving, going to lots of doctors’ appointments, or running grands to and fro. So, it stands to reason that I would have more time for what I have always loved, learning.

However, waiting until I am in my nineties to do something that I know is valuable today is silly. Then I recalled my daily affirmation/commitments that I read every morning without fail. Here is a new statement for 2025: “I read, study, and write daily. As I fill my mind with truth and knowledge, my soul expands, my wisdom increases, and I am blessing others.”

The truth is, I am not waiting until I can sit uninterrupted to learn, grow, and share with others. I am doing it now, amid the chaos of a four-generation home, caregiving, and a busy life. This is something we can all do.

An Example

I worked with a mom who pushed her kids to learn. She was after them all the time. It became harder and harder for all of them. I asked her why she felt desperate and pushed her kids so hard. Here is what she shared. She believed she had wasted a lot of her childhood not learning. She left high school with mediocre grades. She hadn’t read many books. She felt uneducated. She was determined to save her kids from her fate. Yet for all her good intentions, she was having a daily fight with her two oldest children.

Here is what I know about this woman. She is intelligent and talented. She runs her own successful business. Her home is clean and orderly. Her children are learning, active in sports, music, and socially. She has a growing marriage relationship. This mother began homeschooling in hopes of helping her children feel smarter and more accomplished than she felt. She was getting the same results she had seen when they were in public education.

This woman felt like a failure because of what she believed about her past. She has felt for decades that she isn’t smart. However, all she has accomplished in the present belies that story. Many adults share this woman’s experience. I homeschooled my last two, but Kate has always felt uneducated. So, this isn’t about what educational system we choose. It’s about how we view learning, our families, and our own.

Do we make time for learning?
Do we give our children an example of someone who values growing and changing?
Do we read?
Do we read to our kids? Family reading can be life-changing.
Do we allocate time to share what we learn with each other?
Are books and audiobooks available?

You Do It First!

One of the best ways to help our children love learning and make it a part of their lives is for us to do it first; to be an example of the power of learning and growing.

I suggested to this devoted mother that she begin learning and let her children see her doing it; begin trusting that she is smart and can learn. I suggested she read for herself and to her family, and that they have dinner conversations about ideas and thoughts. I told her it would be wise to read what her kids read and discuss those books. I suggested that she read an occasional hard book and then tell her children about the Ahas she has. What about letting them see you taking notes? Maybe have a family book club if your kids are adults. In short, model a love of learning and how you are growing and changing because of it.

Everyone must learn to love growth. We do that personally by reading, studying, conversing about what we are learning, and sometimes, being mentored. We help build this love in our children by modeling it for them.

Ways to Model Learning and Growth

Don’t wait for the chaos to leave; find ways now. Put a book in the bathroom and read one paragraph whenever you go in that room. It may not feel like much, but I promise you will read more than you think possible, and you will bless the lives of your children and eventually your grandchildren.
Listen to audiobooks.
Have mini conversations and dinner conversations. This is facilitated when we have something to share, ask good questions, and eat together occasionally. : )
Have books available. I read things way above my level when I was a girl because my father returned to college when he had nine children. The books were everywhere, so I read them. I didn’t understand much, but enough to keep me interested.

My children have commented as adults that my continued growth has helped them do the same. I am merely sharing what I have experienced as a youth, a mother, and now as a grandmother. Think about this. What interests you? What do you want to know more about? What could you read that sounds interesting right here, at home, right now? Be brave and begin.

Anyone Can Have an Enlarged Perspective

Last fall, on a walk with a friend, Livia asked me how I got such an enlarged perspective growing up in the era I did. It is because my parents were learners. My mom sang, led music, and taught classes in church and her craft store. My dad was a reader and always had books lying around. He talked with many people. They were both open to learning.

I married a man who isn’t a reader. I read to him and help him listen to talks and podcasts. His greatest gift is his ability to connect with people. He is full of questions and learns a great deal as he listens. This comes naturally for him, but I have to work on it. : )

While looking at old cards and letters, I found something I had written to Don early in our parenting, probably in our forties– “…the better able you are to communicate with deity and others, the more the turmoil dies down like a boiling pot being stirred. It’s still boiling, the turmoil and need to change are still there, but the stirring keeps it from boiling over or becoming more than is bearable.”

This is what our continuing education helps us with – perspective and keeping the pot from boiling over.

Don’t put your learning and growth on hold for a more convenient or quiet time. It can be done at home, in small moments now, and shared with those you love.

It’s part of the legacy you give to your children.

SPARKS – The Big Fail!

Years ago, I spent a great deal of time with my grands that live in Utah. We lived one block away. This was before we consolidated our two families into a three-generation home. My daughter, Jodie, was homeschooling. At that time, I was teaching and mentoring mothers who homeschooled. Then I made a transition. I realized that many of the excellent things I was teaching applied to a whole spectrum of parenting, not just those who homeschooled.

Over the ensuing years, I have shared many of the lessons I taught to those long ago homeschool moms and have demonstrated how they apply to every family.

One of those lessons was the idea of Sparks. I wrote my first article on this cool subject in April of 2010. Wow, that was a long time ago. I love the idea of Sparks and have written many articles on the subject since then. In that early article, Sparks Bring Learning to Life. I explained what a Spark is and how it can help you, as a parent, help your child love the idea of learning. This is certainly valuable if you homeschool, but equally valuable if your children attend public or private school. Life is about learning, and the best-lived lives happen when we continue to learn. It is helpful when we show our children how fun learning can be and that is done best when we respond to their Sparks, the things they are already interested in.

In my book Becoming a Present Parent I wrote that the value of seeing your child’s Sparks is that it’s a wonderful way to get Present with your child. It’s powerful not only in helping them love learning but also in creating tighter relationships. So, what is a Spark? Simply put, a Spark is anything that a child says or does that lets you know they’re interested in something right now. The article mentioned above will teach you how to recognize a Spark and then how to use it to create fun, family-learning moments, and to solidify your parent-child relationship.

Over the next few months, I want to share some examples of how I, and other parents, were able to use Sparks to connect with our kids. They are fun ideas that you can incorporate with your children, even if they haven’t shown up as a Spark, because you can also ignite Sparks. Light a spark and watch it burn!

Besides, it’s nice to have a quiver of ideas in your back pocket, especially with summer right around the corner and the sometimes boring days it brings. Learning slows down and tech takes over. It is useful to have some fun ideas and then gather your kids around for some non-tech enjoyment. We are talking about kids under twelve, but occasionally teens will hang around and even join in.

One of the reasons I’m going to tackle this issue of Sparks in the next couple of months is because I’m going to be spending LOTS of time caring for my grands. I fly to Seattle for a week, mid-month, where my grands range in age from almost twelve to four. Then it’s on to Colorado for a week. These grands range in age from married with kids, down to age four. I need a reminder, because as I see Sparks, I can respond, and our time together will be more powerful.

The article I am sharing this week was written in late 2011 and is about an epic failure in the Sparks arena. It illustrates the number one thing to remember about Sparks – the younger the child the shorter the Sparks shelf life. So when a Spark pops up you need to be prepared to respond. When you do, the results are amazing. Next week I will share a success.

Oh yes, one other thing. When children know you care about what they care about, regardless of the age of the child, they will open up because they know you care and will respond. This goes a long way in the relationship department, especially with teens.

CHILDREN LEARN BEST WHEN INTEREST IS HIGH

I go to the library once a month and get four weeks worth of material to share with my grands. On my last trip to the library, I got books about pre-math subjects. That’s where my focus was. However, Jack’s was on elephants.

Each week I visit my grands with my recognizable plastic bucket filled with interesting items. Two weeks earlier, when the bucket went visiting Jack said, “Hi grandma, you brought the bucket. I asked him if he knew what we were going to do that day and he got a huge grin on his face and said, “Yes, elephants.” I pulled out the contents and we had a fun afternoon, but no elephants were included.

The next week when I arrived, I asked Jack, “What do you think we are going to learn about today.” With a huge grin and a face that was lit with the sure knowledge that he knew, he yelled, “Elephants”. I knew right then that it should have been elephants. I had missed my opportunity to respond when the Spark was fresh.

When Jack said he wanted to learn about elephants he fully expected that he would find the materials available the next week. I could see his disappointment when it was something else. We had fun but I sensed he wasn’t fully enthusiastic because what he wanted to know about was elephants.

This last week I was prepared with information about elephants. Guess what – I had let the window of opportunity pass by! We did have fun, but I could see that the enthusiasm he had had two weeks earlier was not present. Imagine how joyous would have been our experience if I had materials about elephants the week before. It would have made a difference.

I am going to spill it and tell you why I didn’t have things going well when it came to elephants. Frankly, the first week I missed it. I heard him say elephants and I let it pass right through my head. I didn’t want to go to the library again, I wanted to use what I already had prepared, and I was excited about the pre-math stuff. Then I forgot about elephants until the next week when Jack’s happy, anticipation-filled face reminded me. I had been thinking about my needs and not Jack, so I had completely missed the Spark.

When I did show up with elephants in the basket on the third week it was fun, but Jack wasn’t as engaged as he sometimes is, and we didn’t do half of what I had prepared. The younger the child, the more important it is to hear and respond to a spark quickly. They move from one interest to another fast.

Tips to help you respond to your child’s Sparks

Have a consistent place to make notes to yourself. When Jack mentioned elephants, I should have written it down or noted it in my phone, so I wouldn’t forget. If the Spark requires a trip to the museum etc., you need help to remember because it will require planning. Although we should respond to a Spark as soon as we can, occasionally time will pass so have a way to remind yourself.
If you can’t make it to the library for books, then use the internet. It will only take 10 minutes max to print off a page of info. that you can read and prepare in your mind, as well as a few pictures. You can also all gather at the computer. Then while you share the pictures you can ask questions and slip in some facts. There are always craft ideas and cute lunch and snack ideas online for just about any subject. There are free worksheets and color pages online for any topic you can think of, including elephants. Add another 5 minutes and you can have those downloaded and printed.
Take another 10-15 minutes to gather your materials for crafts and plan snacks so that you can introduce something fun over the next few days. I always use what I have. I rarely make a special trip to the store. I am averse to buying when I can make do. So, if I need a straw and I don’t have one I call my husband and he stops at Wendy’s after work. If I need a feather and I don’t have one, I make one from paper. If I need sliced turkey and I don’t have it, I figure out how to make peanut butter or tuna work. In 30 min. or so, you can have wonderful ideas that work for a week or two, that help you respond to your child’s Spark. They will love that you noticed. And this works in reverse. You can use this 30 minutes on something you would like them to be interested in and they may be Sparked.
If you have things to do and don’t we all put them on hold for 30 minutes and respond to the spark, even if it’s only a short conversation, reading a short book online, or asking them questions. Your child will be excited and much more engaged.
Most of all, remember that seeing Sparks is about seeing your children’s interests and needs. When you begin using these strategies you create magic and children learn to love learning.
Catching Sparks is usually easy, but responding to them is a skill we develop over time. So don’t become discouraged when you have a fail like I did with the elephants. Just keep practicing.

‘Light a spark and watch it burn!’

Helping Children Be Free to Learn

In September, I took a rest. I had traveled to Colorado in late August to help a daughter having surgery and was repeating that trip for the same reason early in September. I knew I was going to need a rest. The truth is I would like an even longer rest. You are moms so you know what I am talking about. LOL

However, consistency is a hallmark of my life. I have found that it is a principle of power. I also keep commitments to myself and others. I told you I would be back the first Sunday of October. : ) With that in mind, I am back.

Today I am sharing an article I read years ago, written by one of my favorite authors. It had a powerful lesson to teach – it is the parent or teacher’s job to establish an environment where children can learn and grow (even experiment) without fear of being in trouble.

I was not this kind of mom, and it took me decades to begin to scratch the surface of this lesson. I want you to receive the lesson, even though it is still a work in progress for me at seventy-two, although I have made long strides in the right direction. It will hearten you, challenge you, and, if internalized, help you be a more present parent. I hope you enjoy and learn as much from Kerry Patterson’s story as I did when I read it back in 2008.

“It Is Rocket Science” by Kerry Patterson

“When I woke up that bright and sunny morning, I never suspected that I’d burn down my bedroom. But some days just don’t go as planned.

It was a Sunday morning, and this meant that later that evening the entire Patterson clan would plop down in front of their fifteen-inch black-and-white DuMont TV and worship at the altar of the Ed Sullivan Theater. For those of us living at the far edge of the U.S.—and at the far corner of Puget Sound to boot—Ed Sullivan provided a lifeline to the bigger world of hip happenings and top-notch entertainment. Who knew what menagerie of singers, dancers, acrobats, and comedians Mr. Sullivan would bring us! Would it be Elvis or even the Beatles? Surely the ventriloquist Señor Wences or the puppet Topo Gigio would grace the stage. It was Sunday, it was sunny, and all was well.

And then came the bomb. Mom sat me down and explained that she and Dad would be attending a volunteer meeting that evening and that I’d have to chaperone in their stead. Chaperone? I was a fourteen-year-old kid. Whom was I supposed to chaperone?

It turns out that a friend’s daughter, who was attending the local college, wanted to buy her first life insurance policy, and Mom had volunteered our living room for the sales presentation. Unfortunately, since Mom and Dad would be gone, I’d have to hang around. Without my dampening presence, who knows what lecherous shenanigans the insurance agent might attempt? And, as if listening to an insurance salesman wasn’t going to be bad enough, the meeting was to take place during the sacred time slot of the Ed Sullivan show!

When the appointed hour finally rolled around, I squirmed impatiently while the insurance fellow yammered on about “contingencies” and “risk aversion” until I could take it no longer. With one swift move, I slipped unnoticed into my bedroom adjacent to the living room. This put me out of range of the insurance talk but left me with nothing to do. After carefully studying the skin on my elbow for a couple of minutes, it hit me. Under my desk was a large bowl of rocket fuel I had recently concocted and set aside. Now would be the perfect time to turn it from a dry powder into a solid mass by melting it down and then letting it solidify.

I had never performed this operation before, nor did I have the necessary equipment on hand, but I had heard that transforming the powdered fuel into a solid block gave it more stability. I quickly fashioned a Bunsen burner out of materials I found in the bathroom. A Vaseline lid, a wad of cotton, and a couple of jiggers of my dad’s aftershave lotion—and voila! I was ready to cook. Next, I poured a generous portion of the fuel into a Pioneer chemical container that consisted of a cardboard tube with a flat metal bottom and a pop-out metal top. The cardboard would provide me with a safe place to grip the container, while the metal bottom would take the flame and melt the fuel.

Within minutes, I gingerly held the jury-rigged beaker above the Aqua Velva flame and was merrily melting the powder. Sure, I’d be missing Ed Sullivan’s guest star, Richard Burton, as he performed a number from Camelot, but I was advancing science. What could be more important?

Then, with no warning whatsoever, the powder hit its ignition point and burst into a frightening torrent of smoke and flames, scorching the wallpaper above my desk and burning a hole in the ten-foot ceiling. I couldn’t drop the blazing tube, or it would have careened around the room and set the drapes and other flammables on fire.

So I gritted my teeth and held the flame-spitting cylinder firmly through its entire burn. For a full minute, the fiery tube charred the wall and ceiling while dropping blazing bits of debris on my arms and legs—burning holes in my shirt and pants and leaving behind pea-sized scars.

The rest is a blur. When it was finally safe to set the container down, I bolted from my bedroom and threw open the front door to vent the house. A fire truck loaded with highly animated firefighters rolled into our driveway and it wasn’t long until several of them were screaming at me for being so stupid as to—well, cook rocket fuel in my bedroom. Apparently, not being able to swing their axes or shoot a single drop of water into our home had really ticked them off. One angrily threw open the parlor windows when I asked him what I could do to get rid of the smoke. Another glumly stared at my bedroom and shook his head while muttering, “Boy, are you going to get it when your folks come home!”

And then my folks came home. As the fire crew backed out of our driveway and the insurance salesman and frightened college girl bolted from the scene, Mom and Dad slowly approached. Watching a fire crew pull away from your home is never a good sign when you’re the parent of a teenage boy; however, it did give my folks a hint as to what lay ahead. As the two walked stoically into my bedroom and surveyed the damage, Mom stated, “You realize, of course, that you’re going to have to set this right.” I did. I paid for the repairs out of my college savings.

And then, Mom said something that was so quintessential “Mom” that I’ve never forgotten it: “What did you learn from this adventure?” Most parents, when faced with the smoldering shell of a bedroom would have grounded their careless son through social security. Or maybe they would have hurled threats, pulled out their hair, or perhaps guilt-tripped their soon-to-be-jailed juvenile delinquent into years of therapy. But Mom simply wanted to know what I had learned from the incident. It wasn’t a trick on her part; it was how Mom treated debacles. For her, every calamity was a learning opportunity, every mishap a chance to glean one more morsel of truth from the infinitely instructive universe.

So, I talked to Mom and Dad about ignition points, research design, precautions, and adult supervision. I meant most of what I said. I even followed my own advice and avoided catching any more rooms on fire. In fact, save for one minor screw-up a few months later during a routine rocket test where I accidentally blew off my eyebrows (leading to an embarrassing few days where I was forced to darken my remaining forehead hairs with eyebrow pencil—not cool for a guy in high school), I averted further disasters of all types.

But what I didn’t avert was the bigger message. Mom wanted me and my brother to be full-time learners—ambulant scholars if you like. It was her central mission in life to turn us into responsible adults who learned at every turn. While the masses might bump into the world, take the occasional licking, and then endlessly complain, she wanted us to bounce back with the question: What does this teach us? While others carped about effects, she wanted us to find the causes. Our classroom was to extend beyond the halls of academia and down any path our journey took us—even into the occasional charred bedroom.

The implication of this message to parents and leaders alike is profound. It’s the adult’s or leader’s job to establish an environment where their charges can learn and grow (even experiment) without fear of being grounded through social security. This isn’t to suggest that either the home or the corporate learning environment should allow individuals to run about willy-nilly—heating up rocket fuel without a single thought as to what might go wrong. I had been irresponsible, and I was held accountable. But I had also been experimenting with rocket science, and Mom didn’t want to stifle this part of me. She wanted me to experiment, and this called for calculated risks. She saw it as her job to teach me how to make the calculations, not to set aside my test tubes and chemicals.

So, let’s take our lead from the ambulant scholar. Should our best-laid plans run afoul, may we have the wisdom to pause, take a deep breath, and ask: What did we learn from this?