Teenager in the House: the part that's not talked about....

My oldest son, fondly referred to as The Writer, recently turned fourteen. A year into this "mom of a teenager" gig, I've got some new reflections or musings and wanted to share them with you, because some parts of teenager-hood just aren't talked about enough.

We hear plenty of how sullen and moody they are. How they push the boundaries and test the limits and talk back and suddenly develop Attitude. We hear all the horror stories and funny tales about surviving the teen years, and how teen boys have appetites big enough for whole countries. We hear about all of those things, often.

But we don't hear very much about the cool things, the good things, the bits and pieces of watching a teenager unfold, a boy merge into a man, before your very eyes. The mystery and joy of seeing a child grow into an adult, the personality traits that frustrated you in the toddler now making you proud in the teen. "Stubborn" at four really does look like "determined" at fourteen. The baby who thought line drawings of molecules seemed interesting now looks at those same drawings and begins to understand them. The child who recognized his letters, could name them on sight, before he was two is now reading Poe.

Yes, folks; Poe. He's reading Poe. For fun. And mostly understanding it.

In a moment of boredom yesterday he asked if he had anything available to read. I oh so kindly pointed out shelf after shelf of books that live in this house and then realized I had a golden opportunity here to suggest something he might enjoy. My suggestion surprised us both. Well, not really; he didn't know enough about Poe to be surprised. But it surprised me.

I glanced over the shelves, searching for something to capture my boy's interest, yet something that said "I know you aren't a kid anymore and don't like reading the same books as your younger brother these days...." That's when I saw it, the Complete Collection of Stories & Poems by Edgar Allen Poe. Picked up for a song at a library book fair several years ago. Tucked on the shelf for random reading. Moved to the back of a closet in recent times, and then to a bin of "to donate" books that were taking up room I didn't have to spare. The Poe, along with several other books, was rescued from the bin when we moved into the new house and suddenly did have room to spare. And so there it was. Sitting. Waiting. Ready for my boy to pick it up and begin reading.

Even if I wasn't quite. Ready, that is. I mean, sure, I suggested it. I offered it to him and found The Tell-Tale Heart in the contents and turned him to that page. I commented that The Raven was another famous poem if he finished the first one. And I left him to it, not really sure he'd like it, not really sure he'd keep reading past the first page.

But he did. He read The Tell-Tale Heart sitting on the couch while his brothers played. He flipped over to The Raven sitting at the patio table while his brothers debated a dip in the pool. He kept reading random selections while they (very briefly) swam. This morning he had it out again, reading another short story. He was intrigued, I was surprised & mystified. My little boy is reading Poe???

I'm not sure when it happened, but it did. Sure, he admits to not understanding all that he's read (heck, it's Poe. Of course he doesn't understand every single one he reads....), but he's reading grown-up stuff. No more Seuss over and over and over again. No more books chosen for size of text, number of pictures, number of pages between chapter breaks.

It's truly an amazing, wonderful, marvelous, crazy, strange, mystifying, glorious thing. A teenager in the house. Not a scary, frightening, doomed to be miserable thing at all. A chance to watch, to listen, to learn, to grow. To discuss literature. Or politics. Or philosophy.

We've lately included The Writer in our movie-watching, complete with the post-movie discussion period. A movie about lies leading up to the war in Iraq* becomes a chance to discuss how people bend the truth, distort the facts, and why that's a dangerous thing for leaders to do and something to be aware of in every news article you read.

A movie about a strange group of people whose job is to keep your life on track**, making sure you don't veer off The Plan, becomes a discussion of free will, choices, destiny, and if it's good or bad to have total freedom.

And handing a bored teenager a book of Poe's short stories leads to discussions about guilt, the conscience, death, and how to read & understand literature when at first it doesn't make sense.

But what's really going on is a parent, bonding with a child.

A discussion about these things teaches the boy that it's okay to ask questions, that his parents will answer as best they can and not judge him when he asks. A discussion about these things says to a boy "You are becoming our equal in some ways" and gives him the confidence to step tentatively forward into manhood, knowing his mom & dad respect him, value his opinions enough to ask about them, listen to them, hear him out as he speaks his mind. Even when the opinions are still being shaped, molded, tried on & tested --- these discussions let him test & try them on a safe audience.

And so a movie or two, a book of Poe, the discussions that follow....key ingredients in the transition from boy to man. Magic, happening right before my eyes. I say "what do you think about that?" and he hears "I value you, I respect you, what you say matters to me." Magic words. More powerful than any old please or thank-you ever was.

And this magic, this mystery.....this is the side of teenager that should be talked about. Not the grumpies, not the bottomless pit of a stomach, not the big bad attitude. The magic. The growing, not in stature but in maturity. The change, the shift, the subtle differences from one day to the next, the "blink and you'll miss it" growing up, from boy to man, before your very eyes.

Magic. Absolute magic. I would not trade this for anything else in the world.

for those who will ask, the movies were *Fair Game and **Adjustment Bureau. He understood, and intelligently discussed, both. Magic, I tell you. Absolute magic. 

Good Citizenship Thoughts from a 10 Year Old....

I want to thank each of you who commented on Son #1's thoughts about being a good citizen, and assure you that I'll address your comments when I write this from my point of view later this week.

Today has been our Independence Day celebration and we've mostly been lazing around not doing much, but I'm finally coming back to share the things that Son #2 thinks are key points of being a good citizen. Please keep in mind, he's 10 years old.

What does The Artist think makes a good citizen?

Recycling. Not making a racket when your neighbors are trying to sleep. Playing with little kids. Respecting the dead. 

Short list, simple things, nothing to in depth but again he strikes right to the heart of the matter -- being a good citizen is kind of like being a good neighbor and treating others as you'd wish to be treated.

I think for a ten year old boy he's got a decent beginning, wouldn't you agree?

Being a Good Citizen, from Son #1

My boys have daily creative writing for school. I print a calendar of writing prompts from Lakeshore Learning's Teacher's Corner & their Printables page, and the boys write. Easy for me, they enjoy it, and I love learning about my boys through what they put on paper.

A recent topic surprised me with their insight -- "Tell what you think it means to be a good citizen."

As this week marks Brazil's Independence Day I thought it a good time to share on this topic, and will follow up with my own thoughts later this week. For today, what The Writer (almost 14) thinks it means to be a Good Citizen (shared with his permission).

To be a good citizen is....

To be polite to our neighbors and to follow the law for sure, but it would also be pretty good to recycle and not waste things. Not arguing with your friends or brothers/sisters would also be nice.  And also, helping others in need. 

Simple. Basic. Focused on being kind and helpful to our fellow man, with no prejudice or criteria for who deserves our kindness or help.

I think he covered the important parts, don't you?

*look for The Artist's thoughts tomorrow and my thoughts later this week.....

I remembered the funny thing The Artist said.....

So, yesterday I mentioned that The Artist puts me to sleep entertains me each night by asking me random questions while I'm trying to get The Adventurer to fall asleep, and I was all set to share one such question with you.....only I forgot.

Except now I remembered, so here you go.

The Artist is studying American History this year, a continuation from last year, and right now he's reading a book called Freedom Train about Harriet Tubman who herself escaped from slavery and then returned to The South over and over again to lead more and more slaves North to Freedom.

Now, having arrived at this, that does in fact mean he's covered the Civil War, a biography of Abraham Lincoln, etc. He knows about the time period, in other words.

So, he asked me why Brazil went and stole slaves from Africa.

I answered that all the countries who had slaves pretty much stole people from Africa, and I didn't know why. Perhaps because the people who were the slave owners felt that someone who looked really different from themselves was less of a person*.

He mulled that over and said something about being glad the US didn't have slaves.

I said that the US did have slaves.

"What?!? You mean.....what?! I thought slaves were just in the South???"

Yes, the south. The southern states of the United States, ie, southern America, not South America. 

"Wait....what?? You mean...Texas?? Texas might have had slaves?????" 

He was shocked, appalled, horrified, and all sorts of other things.

I was torn between being horrified that he mixed up this little fact so badly and wanting to laugh because it just figures that a kid living in South America would accidentally confuse the two terms. He was, after all, drawing on his personal frame of reference and "south" of the US is S. America, and by extension, Brazil. Honest mistake. Funny, hilarious in my "I just want to sleep" state of mind, but honest.

I did straighten things out, and then we talked about Harriet Tubman walking to Canada, and he did laugh at himself for mixing up "The South (of America)" with "South America" and then it was midnight and I was waking up to head to my bed.

Have your kids ever made little innocent, but hilarious, mistakes like that? 


*please rest assured that he knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, of the wrongness of this sort of thinking. By stating a historical fact I am in no way endorsing such a view. See previous post on Backing a Winner for my views on Equality for All should you have any doubts as to my thoughts on this.

Books: The Diary Quilt Wouldn't be Complete Without Them....

Books
What do you think -- add titles to the books, or leave them blank?

I love books.

I teach my boys at home. With books.

I've been reading since I was four, and have rarely been without a book since.

When we moved to Brazil, one-third of the boxes we packed and shipped over contained books, and that was the barest of the bare essentials; we did, painful as it was for me, leave some behind. Even gave some away.

I read on a Kindle now, but anything I already own in paper form is staying. I still read those, too.

This block is about all of that. About me, about reading, about my passion for reading. About teaching my boys, using books. Real books. Books they read over and over and over again.

It's a tribute to the many people in my life who helped me fall in love with reading. A tribute to the literature rich curriculum we use in our home school. A tribute to the years of bonding over books that I have had, will have, with my boys.  A tribute to the friends, real life & on-line, who've helped me along the way, encouraging me in my teaching endeavors. It's a tribute, most of all, to the single thing I love most in this world (as far as objects go): Books.  

To all the friends, characters in print, who filled my teenage years.

To good and untame lions and a world on the other side of a wardrobe door.

To Romeo & Juliet, Hamlet, Rosencrantz & Guildenstern.

To a wise lawyer, raising his tomboy girl & football loving son, teaching them to climb inside someone's skin....or stand on his front porch....and see the world through someone else's eyes.

To a tight-knit band of teenage boys, fighting against society, who taught me what being Golden is all about and then made me cry like never before when a gallant young man was shot beneath a street light.

To a Bulldog and his Prince, now out of print and my copy ruined, who endured much at the hands of a boarding school headmaster who was a little bit "off," yet who found true friendship in each other.

To a young college graduate, who died too young but taught me that love means not having to say you're sorry. Because you're forgiven before the words leave your lips.

To the friends I didn't make until later.

A boy who grows from 11 to 18, learning what it means to do the right thing, to believe in something and to stand for something bigger than yourself.


To Pooh, with no shirt, and Piglet in green, and saying goodbye to Christopher Robin, the most poignant goodbye in literature if you ask me.

To a little Chinese immigrant to the United States, who learns baseball and how to mimic cartoon characters and how to make her American classmates laugh, and who helped me help  my boys learn to live in Brazil.


To a real life mariner who lived a heartbreaking life and made me cry buckets. 

To the Austin family and Charles Wallace and Meg and adventures that moved me way beyond.


To a clockwork man, and the boy who built him, who was introduced to me by my oldest son, a friend that he discovered on his own.

To elves and dwarfs and hobbits and men, who together journey an impossible journey to destroy the greatest evil they've ever known, and to my Chemist who first made me read of their tales.

To so many more, old friends, new friends, yet to come friends. Because nothing's better than books. 


What is your favorite book? And how many of mine do you recognize? And, most pressing, should I embroider titles on the books in the block, or leave them blank.......and if I should, how on earth do I narrow it to six books?? 

Book Review (by my 10 year old): Harry Potter Deathly Hallows

The  older two boys have been reading the Harry Potter series in anticipation of the release of the final movie installment.  Both boys are determined to finish the full series before the July 15 debut of HP7pt2, or Harry Potter 7 Part 2. We fully intend to see the movie opening weekend if at all possible.

While The Writer is not yet done, The Artist, age 10, finished Book 7 this past week. He was thrilled. I was thrilled. We've had a few (very brief) conversations about the book  -- things like, "What was your favorite part??" answered by, "Umm, the end."  And, "Was it sad? What did you think about......was that surprising?"  answered by, "Yea."

In  order to find out a little more, I handed The Artist my newest Secret Weapon for school -- a Book Review Book Mark. The boys will fill one out for every school book they read this year, fiction and non fiction. Sometimes they'll have to turn these comments into an actual paper in paragraph form, but for Harry Potter I decided the book mark was enough.

Without further ado, here's what The Artist, age 10, thinks about Harry Potter - Deathly Hallows.

Title: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
Author: J. K. Rowling
Type of book (mystery, sci fi, etc.):  fantasy
Setting (where/when):  Hogwarts, London
Main Characters:  Harry Potter, Ronald Weasely, Hermione Granger
Brief Summary:  It's about three teenage wizards going on an adventure to stop a great evil
Rate the book from 1 (best) to 10 (worst):  1
Describe your favorite part of the book:  the end and the epilogue
Describe your favorite character in the book:  I like Harry Potter cause he defeats You Know Who
Explain why you would  or would not recommend this book: (no answer given)

So, wow. I feel a bit bittersweet that my boy has read this most wonderful book. I have to tell you, The Artist was around 6.5 yrs before he started reading and 7 at least before he was reading fluently. So, for him now, at 10, to be reading books like Harry Potter.....just wow. Helps the bittersweet that it is a book series that has had a pretty big impact on me....the emotion in book seven gets me every time.

But this isn't my review, this is The Artist's review, so I'll stop typing now. Except, let me just say that I love love LOVE his brief summary: "...three...wizards going on an adventure to stop a great evil."  Yep, I'd say he got the gist of it.

What about you? Read it? Or not? Love it, or hate it? Interested to hear what you think on the matter!

Another Accomplished Scholar: The Writer

As you can probably guess from his blog nickname, my oldest son The Writer is more in tune to his literary side than his math side. I won't go so far as to say he's more right-brained than left-brained; the boy is phenomenally good at things like building and constructing (with Lego as well as any other material you hand him), and he's quite the engineer, really.

But math, which he's good at when he let's himself be, is not at all his favorite subject. He'd much rather be doing, well, anything else. Anything but math.

And this year, his 8th grade year, he started Algebra I. Today, he had his first Algebra test. He scored a 90, an A. And I couldn't be more proud.

(side note: I seem to say that about my boys pretty often.....)

Of course, in typical Writer fashion, he pulled some answers out of thin air. Or, more accurately, he flipped a coin for at least one of the True/False questions. (he got it right). And he let me know, though not too loudly, when a problem was tripping him up.  I've come to expect that kind of thing and just ignore it. Or tease back.

When he really showed himself? The last question was a word problem, asking "If the Henderson family traveled 782 miles, at an average speed of 68 miles per hour, how many hours did the trip take?"

The Writer added the following:

"Adding the time it took for each stop light, toll booth, traffic, and bathroom (or lunch) breaks, Who knows?"*

(*pssst, Mom, the answer is 11.5)

As proud as I am of his 90% on the test, I have to admit I laughed, out loud and for real, at his final answer. Truthfully? His creativity there makes me just as proud as the A in Algebra.

I really am Mom to a fantastic bunch of boys, and my oldest is leading the way. What has someone done lately in your family to make you smile?