Archive for September, 2006
September 19, 2006 @ 8:21 pm | Filed under:
Math An opinion piece in yesterday’s New York Times ("Teaching Math, Singapore Style") discusses the recent decision by the National Council of Teachers of Mathematics to revert to the old-fashioned method of teaching math by drilling the basics.
…[I]n the late 1980’s…many schools moved away from traditional mathematics instruction, which
required drills and problem solving. The new system, sometimes derided
as “fuzzy math,’’ allowed children to wander through problems in a
random way without ever learning basic multiplication or division. As a
result, mastery of high-level math and science was unlikely. The new
math curriculum was a mile wide and an inch deep, as the saying goes,
touching on dozens of topics each year.
Many people trace this
unfortunate development to a 1989 report by an influential group, the
National Council of Teachers of Mathematics. School districts read its
recommendations as a call to reject rote learning. Last week the
council reversed itself, laying out new recommendations that will focus
on a few basic skills at each grade level.
Under the new (old)
plan, students will once again move through the basics — addition,
subtraction, multiplication, division and so on — building the skills
that are meant to prepare them for algebra by seventh grade. This new
approach is being seen as an attempt to emulate countries like
Singapore, which ranks at the top internationally in math.
Sounds like the NCTM is thinking along the same lines as many home educators. The Singapore Math curriculum—a series of math texts and workbooks originally used in Singapore primary schools—is quite popular with American homeschoolers. What’s funny is that I’ve always thought the Singapore math books jumped around a lot, which is the opposite of the approach Singapore-the-country is being lauded for in this article. That was actually something Jane enjoyed about the 2nd-grade Singapore Math workbooks: they included fractions, geometry, and graphs along with the multiple-digit addition and subtraction that was the main focus of that year’s material. (But they do include a lot of drill in the basic processes, especially if you use both the workbooks and the non-consumable texts.)
Jane loved the puzzles and riddles in the workbooks: in the early grades, Singapore Math feels more like a puzzle book than a math text, what with the games and the cartoon illustrations.
A little way into the third-grade book, Jane got bored with Singapore and asked if we could go back to Math-U-See. We switched, and she’s been cranking away with MUS ever since. It’s an approach that really works for her; she loves Steve Demme’s sense of humor, she enjoys his explanation of the concepts, and the DVD format really appeals to her. She likes to watch the DVDs with a markerboard in front of her, and she’ll pause every time Mr. Demme sets up a problem, solving it before he does, to see if she got the right answer.
She tends to watch three or four lessons in a gulp, and then she’ll go back to them later, one by one, doing two or three of the six workbook pages that make up each lesson. When we reached the fractions book (Epsilon, I think it is?), she watched that DVD like I watch the BBC’S Pride and Prejudice: in binges, over and over. Even now, she still sometimes asks for it, although she has moved on through the Zeta level (decimals and percents) and the Pre-Algebra, which she is just finishing up. I’ve been looking at the Algebra level, trying to decide whether to order it here in Virginia where the sales tax is lower but we’ll have to move it, or wait until we get to California. (You order through regional distributors so you wind up paying sales tax from just about every state, I think.)
Rose likes Math-U-See too, but she enjoys a bout of workbookery from time to time—at which point we whip out the Singapore books for a week or two.
But I digress. I’m intrigued by the NCMT decision; I’ve heard about the fuzzy math but graduated high school a few years before the 1989 report that introduced it.
Beanie: "Mommy, you’re my habitat."
For a beautiful photo diary of a monarch caterpillar’s metaphormosis, visit Moments Like These today. Ever so much happier than our misadventure with poor old Homer the Black Swallowtail ‘Pillar last June!
I took this photo last week because I surveyed the room after our usual morning learnapalooza and was heartily amused by the disaster we left in our wake. I thought I’d write a post about how learning is a messy business or something like that. I wanted to remember how the stuffed cat had to perch on the table to listen to King of Ireland’s Son, and how the colander kept Wonderboy busy for twenty minutes, and how everything on the table and sofa signified a small event in our day.
But I got busy and didn’t write the post. I came across the photo just now while uploading more baby pictures for a lonesome daddy way out west, and it hit me that that was probably the last such morning we’ll have in this house. A day or two later is when we shifted into hurry-up- and-get-ready-to-go mode.
You seldom do know that the last time is the last time when you’re living it. Later, when you realize, it smacks you in the heart.
We’re in the final countdown now. I don’t have a firm move date quite yet, but it’s sometime the first week of October. As in: two weeks away.
If my house is an iceberg, I have packed about enough to chill a large pitcher of tea.
Gulp.
These past two months, it’s been all I can do to keep the house spiffy for showings. Oh, and write like a madwoman. And oh that’s right, FIVE CHILDREN UNDER TWELVE. So okay, maybe it’s not surprising that I haven’t made much headway as far as packing goes. Everyone knows it’s really hard to pack AND keep your house show-worthy at the same time. I know Everyone knows this because Everyone has told me so. Everyone shakes her head and says, "Oh, honey." Everyone pretty much agrees that I am up a creek and my paddle is buried under, um, an iceberg.
However, Everyone is incredibly, impossibly kind. Everyone drops by with dinner unexpectedly. (Thank you Sally; the meatloaf was delish.) (And Peggy: the meatballs! Yum!) (And Lily, what a meal!) (And Sarah, the brownies!) (And Lisa, the cheesecake!) (And Katherine, the muffins!)
(Apparently, Everyone wants to see me put a little meat on my bones.)
Everyone sends her teenage daughter over to see if I can use an extra set of hands. (I can, and thank you, Patty.)
Everyone leaves a book in my mailbox with a promise of an evening get-together to discuss it, because Everyone knows I am squirrely for some good conversation. (Thanks, Amy.)
Everyone calls whenever she’s running out to the store in case I need milk. I always do. (Thank you for the last twelve gallons, Sarah.)
Everyone calls on his way home from work to see what groceries I might need. While he’s here delivering them, Everyone carries a big heavy rollaway bed frame downstairs for me. In his work clothes. (Thanks, Dave.)
In addition to chauffering Scott from the airport on his visit home last month, Everyone hauls my recycling into town for me. He also brings fresh produce from his garden, feeding Beanie’s cucumber jones all summer. (Thanks, Steve.)
Everyone gives up her afternoon to sort through a decade’s worth of junk in my basement with me. (Yes, I know we’ve only been in this house for five years. We brought junk with us. This time, it stays here.) Everyone gives up another afternoon to sift through the hand-me-downs in my closet: you could build a shanty town out of these boxes. Everyone sees all the clutter shoved in the hidden places of my house, and she loves me anyway. (Thank you, Lisa. You are a gem.)
Everyone is so unbelievably nice. How can I possibly say good-bye?
September 16, 2006 @ 11:08 am | Filed under:
Bloggity Or in a house like these, at least.
Via Fuse #8: the latest thing in housing developments. And yes, I totally agree with Fuse #8. This concept makes me shudder. And yet: a thatched roof, shiny appliances, and hardwood floors? I admit it. Some of the pictures made me go, Ooh!
A whole neighborhood full of them, mind you, would be too much even for a geek like me. And the sales pitch? Ew ew ew.
Things are picking up speed now, as far as our move has concerned. Nope, the house hasn’t sold yet, but the kids and I are heading west before winter sets in. What do you think, am I taking my whole Little House motif a little too far?
This week I’m interviewing movers, having our minivan’s windshield replaced, selling off the contents of my garage, hauling vanloads of clothes to the thrift store, and trying to think of all the places (like PayPal) at which I need to change my email address.
Which: while I’m thinking of it! If you’re still using an EARTHLINK address for me, it’s time to retire it. The correct address is thebonnyglen (at) gmail (dot) com.
And speaking of the Bonny Glen! When I announced that we were moving to Southern California, a few friends lamented the loss of "bonny glen" as a descriptor of our home. Of course you know the name really comes from one of my Martha books, Down to the Bonny Glen, which in turn came from a line in an old Scots ballad:
"I’ll fetch my nut-brown maiden
Down from the bonny glen."
Here at the feet of the Blue Ridge Mountains, there are bonny glens around practically every curve of the road. This is the bonniest of bonny countrysides. Every time I look up at the hills, which really are blue, my heart soars. Of course I’m a Colorado girl by upbringing, and no landscape is quite right without some mountains holding up the sky.
They have mountains in southern California, too, but I’m betting they aren’t blue. Of course, they’ve got a stretch of big blue that ought to go a long way toward satisfying my craving. My girls can’t wait to see the sea. It won’t be long now…
But about the bonny glen, I was telling you about how a few friends expressed regret or sympathy for the fact that "Here in the Bonny Glen" was going to cease to be an appropriate title. I was going to write a long post about how the Bonny Glen is a state of mind—which it is, for me; this blog is my way of celebrating what I love about our life together, and it helps me to look out for the bonny moments, great and small, as they come to us. Sometimes we joke about how it isn’t always sunshine and roses in the Bonny Glen (and believe me, it isn’t). But this blog helps me to be mindful of living joyfully and making our days worth celebrating in print.
However, be that as it may—and it IS—I am pleased to announce I’ve thought of a way for "Here in the Bonny Glen" to continue to be a literal description as well as a metaphorical one. Actually, it was Scott’s idea. I’ve been reading up on California homeschooling regulations and have decided to go for the "register as a private school" option. I told Scott we’d need to come up with a NAME for our "school." Without missing a beat, he IM’d back: "Duh. Bonny Glen Academy."
Actually, what he wrote was "The Bonny Glen Academy for Exceptional Children and Road Scholars." Which made me laugh. (Of course we think all children are exceptional in some way or other. Ain’t no mold fits all of ’em.) We bandied about various terms in lieu of Academy…"Day School" doesn’t fit; "Institute" makes me shudder; "Lyceum" seemed a bit over the top. Personally, I like "Brainery," which is listed as a synonym for academy at Thesaurus.com.
In October, we shall indeed be Road Scholars. The gang and I are driving to my parents’ place in Colorado (more mountains!) and Scott will meet us there for the last leg of the drive. He’s got places he wants to show us, points he passed on his own drive two months ago. Tucumcari Mountain, the desert, the Broccoli Crossing…
It will be quite an adventure.
These next few weeks will be crazed, no doubt. As opposed to, um, the serene and uncomplicated days we’ve passed since Scott’s departure in July. Ha. Such is life here in the bonny glen, where "bonny" = "noisy and chaotic" and "glen" = "house in extreme uproar."
And since it’s Poetry Friday, I’ll share the lyrics to the ballad that inspired the name of my book, my blog, and my homeschool. You can listen to the melody here.
Horo, My Nut Brown Maiden
Horo, my nut brown maiden
Hiri, my nut brown maiden
Horo, ro maiden
For she’s the maid for me.
Chorus
Her eye so mildly beaming
Her look so frank and free
In waking and in dreaming
Is evermore with me.
Oh Mary, mild-eyed Mary
By land or on the sea
Though time and tide may vary
My heart beats true to thee.
With thy fair face before me
How sweetly flew the hour
When all thy beauty o’er me
Came streaming in its power.
The face with kindness glowing
The face that hides no guile
The light grace of thy going
The witchcraft of thy smile.
And when with blossoms laden
Bright summer comes again
I’ll fetch my nut brown maiden
Down from the bonny glen.
September 14, 2006 @ 7:35 am | Filed under:
Bloggity Click here to find out how you could win a $50 gift card for a blogging mom you know—and another for yourself. Kristen of The Mom Trap is offering prizes for the best post about an inspiring mom who deserves a treat.
And Spunky is having a contest, too! Find out how you could win a digital camera! Spunky writes:
This contest is open to ALL public and private teachers, parents, home schoolers and students (18 and older).
One winner, chosen at random will receive the Canon PowerShot SD600 and a Timbuk2 Messenger Bag. (Combined value over $350)
Wow!
September 14, 2006 @ 7:28 am | Filed under:
Bloggity Over at The Mom Trap, Kristen is sponsoring a contest:
I’ve decided to put together a little contest to help support a mom in need. Here are the basic rules:
1. Write a post on your blog about a mom WHO BLOGS who you think
needs a little splurge. Think stretched thin single mom, military mom
with a deployed husband, mom with a child with special needs who could
use a break, new mom with no family around, mom with an illness, or mom
who just needs a big CYBER hug. You get the picture.
*International moms are welcome so long as you can use a Spafinder.com gift card in your country.
How does she inspire you? Tell me about her and why you’ve chosen her. Make it good.
(And by mom I mean any kind of mom – adoptive, stepmom, grandmom…)
2. Email me the link to your post (put CONTEST in the subject), or leave me the link in the comments IN THIS POST. Make sure you link the actual post and not just your blog. I won’t be searching for it, so make sure your link works.
3. Make sure you link your nominee’s blog IN your post. I want to visit and read their blog as well. So, they MUST have a blog in order for you to nominate them.
4. Do all this by 10PM EST, September 20.
5. I’ll pick 5 finalists and link them in a post and my readers (or whoever else wants to stop by) will vote. I’m looking for awesome inspiring posts and moms that REALLY need support. Winners will be
announced on Monday, September 25.
So, WHY ENTER? Well, the mom you nominate that gets picked will win a $50 Spafinder gift card OR a $50 Merry Maids gift card.
And guess what? SO WILL YOU.
A Merry Maids gift card! That is almost as exciting as, say, a Godiva gift card. Ohhh, I can think of several moms I know who deserve a treat. (I started to link to some of them in that sentence, but there weren’t enough words. I’d need a positively Dickensian sentence to even come close.) The trick will be choosing one, just one, to write about.
