Unschooling on the High Seas

Our last day on the cruise was an "at sea" day. I took a ship's tour (James was supposed to have gone, too, but then Mal didn't like the kids' club, so we had to choose a designated parent, and he volunteered to let me go; I accepted), and we did all of the "must-dos" that we wanted to hit. We didn't go to the pool at all, which is a little surprising, but it helped us not be sunburn-tired and our suits were drier when I packed.

What I wanted to note, however, was about how much my son brings up as games "drills" that many educators use in "teaching" kids in school.

When I came back from the ship tour, Mal and James were playing "rhymes." Mal picks a word and then, naturally, everyone takes turns thinking of words that rhyme with it. It's fun because Mal "gets" rhyming, but also then sometimes thinks that the same vowel sound in the middle of a short word means it rhymes, and we get to gently say, "That's close, but the end is different" so he can tweak it. And we only play as long as he wants to... which is generally longer than it's fun for us, as is with most things.

Another thing he likes to do is ask, "What words start with 'c'?" And he'll start with one: cookie, cat, cake, etc. Then, again, we just go around doing that until he is ready to move on.

Something he started after a few days of using the elevators was that we'd get on and he'd say, "Mom, there were three people on here, and now two guys got on. How many is that?" Usually, I'd guess wrong so he'd have to correct me. He'd finish up the lesson by saying, "It's five! Because three plus two equals five!" This activity was hampered a couple of times by his forgetting to count himself, which was also interesting.

The whole thing was fascinating to me because we've never introduced these things; it has been his idea. He is just curious about the world, and how things work, and how they fit. This learning and building has sprung from his natural curiosity... and I think we all know that is the BEST way (and most fun way) to learn things.

On the other hand, he has no idea how to shape most letters or numbers (he can do "1" and "l" and "0" and "o"). Before we left, he was taking a bath and we sprayed some shaving cream on the bathtub wall. He'd smooth it out and draw shapes on it. At first, he was asking, "What does this look like?" after he'd make a doodle. He liked the more ridiculous guesses best. I'd say, "It looks like someone was skiing down a mountain and fell and flipped three times." He'd laugh at that. But if I said, "It looks like a snake," he'd say, "No. Pick something else." But then he'd tell me what HE thought it looked like and it would be more literal: "It looks like Sonic's arm and he's making a fist."

Then he asked me to write his name. I said, "You know how to spell it. You write it." So he started to write the "M" by drawing two straight lines. And he knew they were supposed to meet in the middle somehow, but he wasn't sure how to do it. He made a little jut out of the first line, horizontally, toward the middle; then the same on the other side. It looked about like an "H" that had been cut in half and separated a bit. I finally showed him how to do the middle part.

He's working on figuring this stuff out. Just at a slower pace than my first child, and than other kids his age. I'm glad he doesn't have to compete with anyone in this regard. We don't have the arbitrary "one more year" deadline for kindergarten. Maybe he'll have gotten it by next fall; maybe he won't. I'm sticking with the self-directed program.

I do ask sometimes if he wants to get out this reusable marker book to practice letters, and he's never said yes. I'm not pushing it.

Something that keeps reinforcing this commitment, even when I waver, is Mal himself.

For instance, on our cruise, our assistant server was kind enough to bring Mal his own soda every night, even though we didn't pay for that (I had the unlimited soda package). The drink was served in stemware, and almost every time Mal reached for it, I felt a blanche of anxiety. "He's going to spill it!" my spine warned me.

Mal is pretty clunky with things sometimes. He CAN feed himself things like cereal and yogurt, but he has to REALLY be paying attention lest he ends up virtually swimming in it. He hates drinking straight from cups, preferring straws, even though I've seen that he CAN drink out of cups and bottles.

Still, those things seem like challenges to him, to the point that I often help him... which I am aware is aiding in any arrested development, if it exists, but also sometimes I'm just not in the mood to stop what I'm doing for a major cleanup on aisle everywhere.

Anyway, I wondered aloud to James if occupational therapy might help him. He doesn't draw or color, he paints only occasionally, never uses the chalkboard or easel, and I'm pretty sure that if he tried to brush his own teeth, he'd likely miss his mouth on the first approach. It seems like these are things that he should be doing at this age.

However... one of the dinner surprises Mal got on the cruise was a mini Etch-a-Sketch. He used that thing the whole meal, and the one the next night. He loved spinning those tiny knobs and showing us, "I made a 'P'!"

Then, yesterday, he did something he's NEVER done before.

Inspired by a video of a lady making-over LOL Dolls into characters from Teen Titans Go!, he wanted to make paper dolls. I was busy doing something else, so he decided instead just to cut paper. He made a MESSSSssssss but on and off yesterday, cut shapes and corners and just played around with scissor grasp and moving paper (because I told him to stop trying to cut the paper on top of our tablecloth, which he sliced... but which is vinyl because I know what I'm dealing with here).

He's never been interested in cutting things before. So that's one step toward developing more elegant fine-motor skills.

I guess I'll just be patient, because I think he's doing pretty well. And he's having a great time doing it.

I really am curious to see how my kids' ideas about learning and education look like when they're adults. I was just telling someone yesterday that I'm 100% sure I'll never do an organized educational program again, because after school and college, I was so burnt out, I was just done. I did real estate because I had to for a job, and then I studied the insurance stuff on my own... but both were basically mandatory and except for passing the tests, there was little joy in the process. It will be interesting to see if my kids pursue more organized educational opportunities, not having been exhausted by them in their early childhood.

Cozumel, May 3

This morning, we woke up already docked. I went down to the Promenade Cafe for soda and some breakfast snacks, then after everyone got up and dressed, James went to Windjammer for actual breakfast, and Mal and I went to the arcade.

We got off of the ship around 9:00 AM, heading toward the Discover Mexico park. On the way, we stopped in a shop (naturally) and Mal found some wooden knock-off (not even close) Cars for $2 each, so we bought three and then took a brief taxi ride to the park.

Mal had already been crying that he didn’t want to go off the ship, and did not change his tune the WHOLE time we were there. In the traditional Mexican art museum, he did find several things that were interesting to him, namely a “treasure” trunk, and a sand art life-size mural of the Virgin Marie. I loved the papier mache alebreja (sp) best. 

After the museum we got to meet a sweet donkey named Sofi (Mal was too shy to pet it, but wanted me to; man, I want a donkey). James and I got a margarita sample, and they were SMART to give away a taste. It was fabulous!

Outside, there were miniature renditions of Mayan pyramids and other important Mexican historical sites, from ancient history to the present day. Mal was still insisting that we go back to the ship, and would be distracted very briefly by the miniatures. But in the end, we walked through without listening to the guide. We got to observe the pole dancers, which was pretty incredible, and picked up a shirt for D in the gift shop. 

James stayed back for the taco buffet. I think he’s more irritated at Mal than I am. I guess I spend enough time with Mal to kind of expect the unexpected that way; he’s a work in process and, yessss, sometimes I reach the near-end of my rope. But after we took a taxi back to port, ran through the driving rain back to the ship, ate a bit of late breakfast at the Windjammer, and relaxed a little and Mal was ready to face the world again, I was good to go. James had made it back by then and said he wasn’t inclined to do anything Mal wanted to do.

I get the compulsion. But here’s where there’s a difference: I have parented a little kid before. Granted, D was easier in MANY ways. However, I do remember distinctly the times I was inconvenienced or my wants/needs dismissed and absolutely knew it was for no reason than my child’s obstinance. And it pissed me off. So when D would act “normal” (happy), I felt like it was a reflection of complete indifference to my own disappointment and frustration (honestly, it probably was and is). And I’d try to make D feel my bad feelings. Like, I’d try to push them off onto my child until my child adequately felt my disappointment and then felt really bad and would never act that way again.

You know what? I never satisfactorily accomplished that. You know what else? It just ended up with both of us feeling lousy, and I wish I hadn’t done it.

So when Mal wanted to go to the arcade, we did. Then when we saw the kids’ pool was all repainted and open, we went there. We played for about an hour or so, took an ice cream break, and played a little more. I called it a day when I started feeling heat on my healing sunburn, so we came back to the room and now I’m half way ready for formal night. 

I’m going to experiment with my hair and see what happens. I got some really cool earrings I want to try, and I need my hair pulled back.

(later) Got my hair done, did make-up, got dressed. Tonight is the second and last formal night of the cruise. It’s 4:00 PM and we go to dinner at 5:30. Just as I have almost every other night of this trip (except one, I believe), I just went to Sorrento’s to get Mal a couple of slices of cheese pizza. This means he’s typically not super hungry at dinner, but like last night, we brought his chicken “nuggets” back to the room and he ate them later last night, and finished up the fries this afternoon.

I’m hoping to eat lunch at Sorrento’s proper tomorrow. We’ve gotten slices there a couple of times, but I’d like to eat in the cute restaurant. They have some of the neatest salads. I really loved the Promenade Cafe on Voyager, both for their sandwiches and for the chocolate-chip cookies. On Liberty, though, they’ve typically had only the sugar-free cookies (yuck; although just now, I did see the regular ones) AND yesterday afternoon when I was on my solo lunch, I got the salmon wrap… it was so good, but also TINY. And for some reason, the people who work there are all much less happy-seeming than any other crew we’ve encountered on the ship. Every single one. “Here’s your stupid Diet Coke. I hope you choke on it.” I mean, not verbally, but you can tell. It’s what they’re thinking.

I also got Mal a cupcake from the Cupcake Cupboard. I’m basically a “we’re paying for an all-inclusive cruise, and food is part of it, so why would I pay extra for something?” kind of passenger, but those cupcakes looked amazing and were only $3.25. I say “only” because they’re huge and would be $5 at a cupcake store on land, and maybe $8.50 at Disney World. Plus, they’re 1/3 icing. As they should be.

(later later)

Mal was in such a hurry to get his surprise, we left for dinner about half an hour early. Since it only takes maybe 8 minutes to get to that end of the ship, even if we milk it, we dragged things out by walking the corridor looking at art, then going down to the actual art gallery, and popping out onto the promenade deck to see the setting sun.

Our meal went quickly this evening, and James took advantage of the formal night lobster tail after his roasted tomato soup. Then for dessert, he had a chocolate lava cake. I had the chilled strawberry soup, gnocchi with beef ragout, and baked Alaska. 

We continued to chase the sunset after dinner, revisiting the promenade deck then hanging out in the 8th deck landing while our room attendant did our turn-down service (he’d not been able to get in to tidy this morning, as Mal’s quick turn-around in Cozumel didn’t give him time). We could still see the Mexican peninsula as we headed north. A Carnival ship is pacing us; we seem to have been on the same itinerary this whole time.

I’m going to be really honest with you here: I’ve realized that one of the things I’ve liked best about my previous cruises (and, honestly, trips to Disney World) was how cute I looked in all of the outfits I selected for the trip. A combination of age and of my body returning to its natural state (i.e. not manipulated by restriction and punishing workouts) means that I’m taking a lot more pride in the pictures I take of other things than of the snaps of me.

It’s humbling, but I’m seeing how vain I was when I was smaller. I don’t know; it’s hard. On the one hand, I look at pictures of me from then and I think, “It’d be nice to look like that again.” But I also know I don’t want to spend the equivalent of 7 or more work weeks per year on maintaining a body shape that didn’t make me any happier, and that didn’t guarantee me any more (or less) love from anyone in my life who truly cared about me. Recovery from disordered eating and exercise is a pain in the ass; I don’t recommend needing it. Internalized fatphobia is  so hard to totally shake. I don’t know if I’ll ever truly be free from it.

Just a li’l deep thought from a fun day in the Caribbean. Let’s hang in there together, shall we?

Roatan, in Full

We woke up early enough to watch the ship approach, round, and dock at Roatan. There have been obvious changes since I visited in January 2010, namely that they’re expanding the port to accommodate a second ship. Well, anyway, that was the most visible change at the moment. Later, we passed an entire second port that CAN hold two ships. So, as opposed to nine years ago when the island could only hold one ship at a time, it can now hold three. And it did. There were two Carnival ships at the newer port, in addition to our Liberty of the Seas.

We had breakfast delivered, and then got ready to go meet our tour guide.

Another big change since last time is that they’ve built white kiosks for the guides to find people to hire them. Before, once you got out of the port’s gates, you were just bodily swarmed by people wanting to give you a ride. This time, there was still the yelling and trying to get attention, but it was a lot more comfortable not to be physically approached!

We found our guide, and walked up the road a bit to where her car was parked. On the way, we stopped in a storefront to purchase a water and Sprite, as they’d told us we couldn’t bring food or drinks off of the ship. Turns out we could have; no one checked. But it’s good to put as much money into the local economy, so I’m glad we had the opportunity.

Our tour guide was Nola, who grew up on Roatan. She is probably a bit older than James and me, not much, with sons who are 29 and 21. She described a childhood on an island that had no development, no electricity, and, she said, they were “wild,” sleeping with chickens. Then at some point, a head honcho of Century 21 visited and started developing the land. She said that now, they rely on tourism as, in the past, they could live off of what they farmed. Now, because so much of the island is privately-owned, there’s no room to farm and they need people to visit.

The wild Roatan sounded idyllic, so I asked her if she was sad that that way of life was gone. She deftly dodged the question, saying that when she was younger, “We didn’t know anything about how life was. We had no television, no internets. We didn’t know about what was going on anywhere else.”

Our first stop was a small animal “park.” It was really just a few habitats in someone’s back yard, and it was jammed packed with people. We were excited about seeing and holding a sloth, but the line was clearly more than half an hour. We went to see the capuchin monkeys first, instead.

The monkeys were high-spirited and very interactive. People were emptying their water bottles or letting the monkeys drink out of them because those monkeys were either really thirsty (one was licking the spilled water off of a 2x4 path) or just curious… sticking their hands down in the wider-mouthed bottles to see if there was any treasure hiding inside.

The monkeys jumped onto and off of Mal’s head, and onto James’s shoulder. One climbed onto my back. They have good grips, but not claws, so even when they’d jump off, it wasn’t painful. One girl complained that they “pulled” her hair, but the monkey had actually wrapped his tail around her ponytail and used it to swing a bit. The habitat was full of hanging braids of rope, so it made sense.

At one point, a monkey was on my back for some time, then someone said it was getting into my backpack. Momentarily, he hopped away, climbing to the top of the habitat, well out of reach, with his treasure: a pink floral drawstring pouch.

Everyone laughed and the keeper asked, “What is that?” I said, “Well, actually, it’s a menstrual cup.” He said, “He’ll drop it eventually.” I assured him, “That’s okay; I don’t need it at the moment.”

He gave it the college try to open the bag and spill out the contents, but I have it knotted. Eventually, after he’d dragged it through the water, he got bored and dropped it. But we laughed so much. I made sure my zippers were zipped AND tucked after that.

I got a few pictures and videos of the monkeys, up close and personal. When they’d see the camera lens pointed at them, they’d reach out for it. I have a wind muffler on the top of the mic, and they tried to eat that, and tried to open the pop-up flash to see if there was anything interesting in there. They’re pretty clever. We could have stayed in there all day, but other people were waiting.

We tried to get into the sloth line again, this time much shorter. But just as it was about to be our turn, Mal started getting weepy and ready to leave. I walked him over to the macaws, and we got right in. But while the keeper was explaining what was going to happen, Malcom just almost lost it so we had to go. 

Still, James was right that the monkey interaction was worth the price of admission.

Our next stop was at the boat dock for a mangrove tour. This was the best way to see the way the people on the water actually live. I mean, yeah, there were plenty of makeshift bars and rich people homes, but also actual homes, churches, and even public schools right over the water.

The water taxi took us through a couple of bays and into the mangroves, trails hollowed out by pirates looking for a place to hide. Some of the island towns of Roatan are reachable only by boat, and those children have to take personal boats or water taxis to get to school.

May 1 is actually their Labor Day holiday, so we got to see many children out riding bikes, swimming, playing, and accompanying parents on errands. Whenever I saw kids swimming, I almost never saw adults with them. This is one of the things I always find wistful about visiting places like this. I’d love for our neighborhood to be the kind of place where all the kids could go down to the lake together unsupervised. The one grown-up I did see had a baby on her hip and was wading a bit into the sea, carelessly trailing her sarong into the water as she waited for a boat to beach.

Roatan is about 36 miles long, but only 3 miles wide, so, our tour guide explained, you can’t get lost. There is one main road that runs the length of the island, and it is politically split in two, governed by two mayors. It seems like the mayors are very wealthy (we passed the home of one), so I guess that’s just a global thing.

Nola also showed us a bus stop along the main road, and said that the bus comes by every three hours, because gas is expensive and they want it to be full when it runs. It doesn’t have a schedule, though. On our drive back to the port, I saw a woman wearing her baby, laid out relaxing, waiting. That’s one way to raise patient kids!I haven’t done that very well. 

Because Mal was telling Nola that after he turned 5, he wasn’t going to have any more birthdays, we got into a conversation about adult children. I told her that I think Mal’s not wanting to get older was due to the fact that D is about ready to move out, and Mal doesn’t ever want to. Nola said he should move to Roatan, where everyone lives with their parents. She said it’s too hard to have so many single households, so you just stay with your parents, then if you get married, you live with whichever set of parents has more room.

I was grateful to her for sharing things about her home life and family. She said that electricity here is a dollar per kilowatt hour, so they have to reserve it. For this reason, at night, they turn off everything but fans. This includes the refrigerator. After it’s dark and not so hot, they unplug the fridge until morning.

I’m guessing all of the foreigners, Americans and Canadians, and there’s even a big Czech village with a second one on the way, do not live that way.

I asked her if the influx of foreigners drives up prices for everyone else, and she said that everything’s always been expensive because it has to come on barges from the mainland. She said that they have to go over to Honduras if they need major medical procedures, even if they’d rather not. She said it’s very unsafe over there, while Roatan is peaceful. She said if we ever hear of any murders on Roatan, we can rest assured that it was someone who had wronged someone on the mainland, then tried to escape to Roatan, and had been followed and found.

Nola pointed out that since Roatan’s an island, it’s difficult to get away with crime. The only way to get away is by boat, and so people are easily apprehended. She took great pride in showing us the uncomfortable conditions of their island jail, which has cells purposefully tiny and without windows, where prisoners sleep on the floor, and if there is more than one person in the cell, they have to take turns lying down. She also said that they’re not given food, but that prisoners rely on family to bring them meals. She said if they’re lucky, people with no family can talk cellmates into sharing. Nola said that this discourages crime and recidivism.

We returned to the ship without going to West End. I’ve seen it, but it was deserted as our guide took us before the ship tours got there. Nola assured us that the beach would be packed, but that she would be more than happy to take us over there if we wanted. Since it’s basically a resort, we declined. James and I would happily have eaten at a local restaurant, but I didn’t figure they’d have anything for Mal (D would have loved the adventure) so we got back on board and had lunch in the Windjammer.

After lunch, we had a nice relaxing afternoon in the room. We wound down, watched the last people run the dock at 4:35, and found the unmooring process fascinating. Then it was time for dinner. James got there a little late as he was having some tech issues he needed to finish up, and Mal and I left a little early as they did the fun staff recognition/performance… but it was loud. And loud means Mal is OUT.

James had the tomato and goat cheese pastry, vegetable korma, and creme brulee. I had coconut shrimp, korma, and then James brought my pavlova to the room since I missed the dessert course. Mal’s dinner surprise was a Slinky.

Mal had been thinking about playing in the splash pad, but it seemed to be closed after about 6 PM. Instead, we played in the room and went to sleep very early. James and I were probably asleep by 8 PM, and Mal was ready to turn off the television and go to sleep by 9, which is early for him! All of this sun and fun is wearing us all out. I could have slept another two hours or more this morning.

Fortunately, we’re at a port we weren’t planning to visit, so we’ve had a lazy day on board, but more on that next post…