Unschooling Preschool

Whole-life unschooling wasn't a philosophy that was on my radar when D was small, but I realize now that a lot of its tenets came naturally to me. Now, with Mal, I use them with intention, going even further to eschew the sort of "teachy/educational" videos aimed at littles. I mean, he likes the Starfall website, and many of the "Little Baby Bum" videos talk about colors and shapes and stuff, but I don't make him watch anything he doesn't want to. Often, we forward through the videos that start out with an over-enthusiastic, "Want to count from 1 to 100 by tens?! Let's go!!" No. Shut it.

Anyway, one thing that is consistent (more or less, as much as can be with a toddler) between when D was little and now with Mal is that we have "morning sessions" and "afternoon sessions" in their rooms. I mean, I go in there with them, sit down, and let them set the tone for what we do.

Mal might pull out a book for me to read, I might get four pages in, and then he might decide that he wants to go pretend to cook on his stove. I never insist that we finish the book we started; I just let him do what he wants and help him when he needs help.

Full disclosure: For me, it's a discipline thing, but I try very hard not to take my phone in his room during these times unless I'm expecting a time-sensitive message (like from my Instacart shopper or a visitor). I want to be present for these particular times.

Mal likes to pull every bit of "food" out of his refrigerator and talk about it: What it is, what color it is, whether he likes it or not. I very rarely ask, "What color is that?" And if I ask but he doesn't answer or doesn't answer correctly, whatever. I'm mostly just making conversation. Sometimes he wants to pretend to cook stuff, and if I try to pretend to eat it before it's cool, he'll be shocked and remind me that it's hot. 

Sometimes, Mal wants to get the really big stuffed Pegasus or Hagrid and Fluffy out of his closet. Other times, he plays with his drill and screwdriver set. Or the Playmobil RV with the bicycles and the tiny flatware. He often "cuts himself" with the itty bitty knife, much to his own amusement.

There might be a time when I pull out a ball and ask him if he wants to catch it, but if that's not on his mind, I never make him do anything during these play times. They're his time, and I do what he wants. 

When I was in my 20s, I worked with a boy who had Autism, and his mom had tried everything, including painful shots. Her last best hope was this kind of Playtime Therapy that involved just sitting in the floor with her child and letting him pick what to do, then using those things to interact with him. It never occurred to me until recently that it's very close to what I'm doing with my own kid.

Obviously, there are times in the day when I need to do things: chores, personal care, errands, etc. Mal is usually right there beside me. He loves to sweep (really, Swiffer... but NEVER with the cloth on; it is an abomination unto him). He most of the time makes things more difficult when he "helps" this way, but it's important to let him learn and feel a part. He also likes to shake open trash bags, and is actually really great at bringing the liners from our bathroom trash cans out to the bigger trash can.

When we go out, there are times when we're on a schedule or in a hurry, and I have to get all bossy and demanding, but if we're not in a time crunch, I try to let him have the leisure to explore things. For instance, very often, when we go to the gym, he wants to go behind the building and look at the air conditioners. Or he'll want to sweep the snack area, which is not why we're paying $20 a month, but as long as no one's over there, I usually let him (if there are people, I don't, because concussions, and this usually results in much sadness from the boy).

"Yes, I know there's a playground over there,
but this dude outside is riding a loud monster that eats grass! It's AMAZING!"

A big part of the unschooling philosophy is just mindfulness and being in the moment. And this is what was intuitive for me when D was little. We might plan a trip to the zoo and spend three hours with the birds, an hour in front of the lions, another hour in the gift shop. and then go home. If there was something I especially wanted to do or see, we did. But otherwise, there was never an expectation of exactly what any experience needed to look like from the outset.

I'd feel sorry for the kids (we went to a lot of homeschool day events, and a LOT of homeschoolers are super married to curricula and timetables and wringing the dang educational value out of every second) who would amble up to the otter display, get to watch one cute thing and be totally enthralled, then have a parent bark at them, "Okay! Let's go! Come ON!" Even though it was clear they could have watched those things for fifteen minutes. Poor kids barely had the time to write down a note about the otters in their mandatory binder they had to carry to prove they were at school and not just having frivolous fun.

So, with Mal, it's more of the same, only we don't spend time "singing" the alphabet or purposefully "studying" colors or anything like that. What's neat is that, even without my introducing it, he wants to know, and he asks. And when he stops asking, I stop telling him.

Although we went from relaxed eclectic homeschoolers to unschoolers to radical unschoolers over the course of D's lifetime, it'll be interesting to see how it goes with Mal, doing this from the start. Of course, we'll probably change things up, tweaking them as we go, just like everyone does.

It's interesting: As we've looked at housing and considered leaving options open in regard to a Sudbury (un)school or a Waldorf school, something hit me in the feels the other day: When Mal brought me a book and sat down in my lap for me to read it. I just remembered all of the times D did this until she was 7 or 8, and really we only stopped my reading aloud much when she became voracious about wanting to hear literature to the tune of 4 hours per day or more, so we switched over to audiobooks. And I realized that no matter where we might send Mal, he probably won't have that luxury in any school environment (except maybe at the Sudbury school, he could get an older kid to read to him if he were charming enough), and it made me think we need to keep him home! Then it further occurred to me that if we are truly to unschool, his preferences play into it and he might WANT to go to school, so we need to be prepared for anything. Just like always.

These are pretty fun days, and I'm glad that I get to spend however many we have with Mal, watching and learning alongside of him.