It’s amazing to me that summer is drawing to a close. It feels like just yesterday I was worrying that we wouldn’t have much to do, and now we find ourselves exhausted after weeks upon weeks of activity and discovery. Our usual dull summer, my least favourite season bar one, has been technicolour this year. We have experienced so much, played so hard, and learnt so much - me especially.
I’ve learnt that I have to let go.
Making all the plans and directing the small people I live with has, so far, given me a false sense of control over our lives. When things don’t go to plan, I plan more and direct more of their time. Worrying, though not enjoyable, has felt productive and justified. Until this summer.
Good Things Come in Threes
My seven year old did three things this summer I never would have expected. If someone had told me a year ago that she would pick up these skills, well - let’s say it would have saved me a lot of mum guilt and a few sleepless nights.
The third one happened just yesterday, in next door’s back garden. We’ve recently cut back a bush and there is now a child sized hole between ours and our neighbours’ garden, which means near daily play dates for the children. The kids all usually gravitate towards the trampoline, but today my eldest asked to ride our neighbour’s pedal bike. After a few tries, she was riding up and down the lawn. No stabilisers, perfect balance.
Perhaps this doesn’t sound extraordinary, but this is a kid that was adamant that she couldn’t ride a bike. She didn’t want to practise riding one, either. I had watched on as friend’s children had all learnt this seemingly essential kid skill, while my daughter had not the interest nor the inclination. Should I persuade her to try? Buy her a bike? Would she regret never having learnt? Then she goes ahead and does it on almost the first try, and with such finesse, I wonder if I’ve been crazy for worrying.
The second skill she picked up a little earlier in the summer. I had been lamenting, back in June, over how little we had been to the public pool. I felt that she should be learning how to swim, however disinterested she was. Lessons were out of the question as she didn’t have the confidence yet, and waiting lists were long anyway. Was I doing her a disservice by not taking her regularly? Even when she was more interested in splashing around than learning to swim?
Then my parents bought the girls a large paddling pool for the garden. Lo and behold, a few weeks later, my newly seven year old was propelling herself up and down it. She had taught herself the breaststroke.
The third instance is not such a huge shift, as she has been learning to read for some time now. Reading is most certainly the thing that I’ve lost the most sleep over however so, even though it is the smallest step forward, it feels the most momentous.
I think the first thing that happened was Nanny bringing over the coloured reading strips, or maybe it was the promise to pay her 10p a word to try, but either way she read two different early readers over as many days (and we used her money to purchase a new toy snake). It was a struggle for her at first, but she persisted and finally broke down the wall that she’d built up between her and book reading. The best part was still to come though.
One evening shortly afterwards, it may have even been the very same day, she brought a small book to the table and started to read it out loud. Completely voluntarily. Now these books don’t go far beyond the cat sat on the mat and I wouldn’t say by any means that she has ‘cracked the code’ yet. But she feels like she can try, and this makes all the difference in the world.
Seven Year Old Fairy Dust
What do all of these instances have in common? I suppose you could say that she did them all on her own terms, and in her own time. I had offered her money to read to me before (anything to motivate her!) but this was the first time that she had happily taken me up on that offer. In the past she’d struggled to get past the first page, even the first word, and there would inevitably be tears of frustration followed by me backtracking and offering praise and prizes for her effort, despite how disappointed we both felt.
You might be wondering if I’ve ruined reading for her, by bribing her to do it. But I excepted long ago that nothing I do is going to spoil the ‘wonderful experience of learning to read’ for my daughter, because for her it isn’t wonderful at all. It’s hard. She has always found it difficult and she doesn’t do difficult things well.
Would it have been easier if we’d waited until she was older to start? Maybe. I’ve had many a person tell me how the left side of the brain doesn’t fully develop until age seven, which makes learning phonics much easier. I know children that have picked up reading around this age as if by osmosis. I know others that didn’t and still had to go through the arduous process of learning it, just later on. We’ll never know if waiting would have been better because we can’t go back in time to do things a different way. Some days I wished we’d started even earlier! We’ve started the process already with her younger sisters (who are not yet four).
What I will say is that my eldest now asks to read her sisters a bed time story most nights. If she doesn’t mention it, I ask her if she’d like to - and she always says yes. So paying her to read, however people may feel about it, hasn’t made reading a chore. She hasn’t asked for any more money, either.
Miss 7 learning circus skills at two different free, community events this summer. She did aerial hoop for the first time, plus hula hoops (inspired by a circus performance we saw), flower sticks and walking on stilts!
So what has happened this summer to make the impossible possible? For starters, having a pool and a bike available certainly helped her to learn to swim and ride. Timing seems to play a huge role though - she had a bike in the shed for years (which she got given for her third birthday) that she never touched. We’ve certainly always had books around.
Perhaps you sometimes need a catalyst, like Nanny dropping over the reading strips. I remember buying my youngest two dummies when I wanted to stop breastfeeding at night. They never really used the dummies, but for some reason the introduction of them was enough to shake things up and help the girls learn a new habit (sleeping without feeding).
Truthfully, I can’t help but feel like someone has been sprinkling seven year old fairy dust on my daughter. It’s as if, by magic, she is more able to tackle the difficult things in her path, things she would have cried and stamped her feet over mere weeks ago. In short: she’s growing up.
Trusting the Process
With the new academic year just beginning (tomorrow for us!) you might be wondering if we’ve now become radical unschoolers. While we’ve never quite achieved the status of being ‘semi structured’, we will be carrying on with short, daily, adult initiated book work. Perhaps I’m not ready to completely let go just yet. The difference will be that I can approach formal learning as a take-it-or-leave-it, not so essential part of our day. She will pick up maths eventually, and probably when I least expect it.
I know a lot of people talk about trusting the process and I think this can look different for different families. For us it means:
Providing resources - and trusting that everyone will use them as and when they’re ready and interested
Providing learning opportunities - and trusting that they’re getting what they need from them, and
Providing encouragement - and a gentle nudge when needed, whilst also knowing when to step back.
I wish you the very best start to the new academic year! May it be full of sudden epiphanies and, of course, lots and lots of learning for everyone (mothers included).