Harry Potter and The End of An Era

Julia looked around her cleared out bedroom, threw an overstuffed plaid duffel bag over her shoulder, and grabbed the last book of the Harry Potter series to re-read in the car. This was the day we moved her into her dormitory at the University of Massachusetts in Amherst for the first time. She tossed her curly red hair and rushed past me. I said, "Jul, I haven't read that one yet." She responded, "Can't you read it on Kindle?" Biting my lip, I tried not to cry. I snuggled up to her face, standing on tiptoes, and instead of kissing her cheek, blew a raspberry on it like I did when she was a toddler. She scrunched her nose and giggled, like she did then. Only this time she was humoring me, knowing how dreadfully I would miss her. My firstborn was leaving home, taking with her a huge hunk of my life.

That was two years ago. Now Tommy, 18, is counting down the days until he moves across the country to begin work as a personal trainer.

When Julia was 8 years old, Tommy was 6. We had been homeschooling for two years already. 3 year old Anthony and newborn Jack required most of my time and attention. So when I had heard about a book about a young wizard named Harry Potter, I splurged on the hardcover at once. Wanting to give attention to all four children, I read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone aloud from the rocking glider while I nursed the baby each night. Julia and Tommy sat rapt as Harry learned that his parents who had been killed when he was an infant were both wizards. Potter was invited to attend Hogwarts, an academy for wizard children. Locked up under the stairs each night, Harry was unaware that an owl was delivering him invitation after invitation to attend the school. Despite his muggle (human) aunt and uncle's attempts to destroy every correspondence, Harry was personally visited by Headmaster Dumbledore and Hagrid, a sweet giant, who escorted him to Hogwarts. Julia and Tommy appreciated the story more than the little ones. Bravely, they did not fear the evil villain Voldemort as much as they did Harry's nasty aunt and uncle. On the rare night that I was too tired to read, Julia and Tommy refused to allow my husband to take over, because "Mommy knows how to do all the voices." Thankfully, this was before they had heard the audiobooks, which utilized authentic Scottish accents in addition to British. My Hagrid sounded slightly like he was from Alabama.

The following year, we took a family trip to Europe, traveling between countries European-style on the train. To pass the tedious hours and to keep everyone relatively quiet, I read aloud from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Rowling's second book, while my husband walked the aisles with toddler Jack. Harry discovered his special talent of speaking with snakes when he communicated with a python through the glass in a zoo enclosure. Several days later during a visit to Paris' Parc Zoologique, Julia and Tommy whispered to the snakes through the glass, attempting to recreate the scene. To my immense relief, neither spoke parceltongue.

Book Three was released on the day we held a garage sale. Tommy and I took a break from haggling over prices to buy the book immediately. I started reading it as soon as the last customer had handed over their quarter. I read until I was hoarse. All of us worried together about the ominous Sirius Black hunting Harry, until we discovered that he was actually Harry's godfather, and we dreaded the dark, soul-sucking dementors. When playing together, Julia, Tommy and Anthony frequently called "Expelliarmus!" on each other, putting a spell on each other which caused them to drop their imaginary wands. We talked about the world of Harry and Hogwarts as if it were real, while going about our mundane muggle errands like food shopping.

Harry, and his friends Ron and Hermione became family friends. Harry's first girlfriend Cho coincided with Julia becoming a teenager. She was as interested in this new facet of Harry's life as she was in her own. Still children, the boys noticed a difference in their sister. Julia, Harry, and the Hogwarts gang were changing.

As each book came, even though the children were perfectly capable of reading it independently, they waited for me to read it to them aloud. Book 4 was long enough to keep everyone's interest during a 6-hour plane delay at a French airport. In fact, we even attracted other weary travelers who surrounded us as I read.

When she was fourteen, Julia picked up the original book and read it silently for the first time. It was the first book she ever actually enjoyed, she said. She devoured each successive book again and again, as did Tommy. By the time Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince (6) arrived, I read the book to just Anthony each night. Tommy read it independently on the day of release. At the end of the book, when Dumbledore died, Anthony and I wept.

Book 7 arrived to much fanfare, as we all knew it was to be the final in the series. Harry Potter would graduate from Hogwarts and go off into the wide wizard world on his own. This was the last time we would spend with Harry, the Weasleys and beloved Hagrid. Julia finished the book first, then Tommy, then Anthony. I never read it. Reading it to myself seemed lonely. I was not ready to say goodbye to Harry and the gang.

Each of these books was turned into a film, and tomorrow night is the opening of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 2, the very last one. As always, Julia, Tommy and Anthony have tickets to the 12:01 showing. For the first time, Jack and I will attend with them. As sad as I was to take Julia to college, and to say goodbye to Tommy, I actually read the book this past weekend. It was time for me to face it: this part of our lives is over. Like Harry, Tommy and Julia must go off to begin their own, independent lives. Even if I had destroyed their acceptance letters like Harry's aunt and uncle (why didn't I think of that???), Julia and Tommy would grow up. They wouldn't need me to homeschool them, or read aloud to them, forever. It is what I and my husband always wanted for them, and how it is supposed to be. I am proud that they are moving away from the tight homeschooling community into a larger world, but I am not ready to close the book on them, or Harry. I look forward to reading these books to my future grandchildren.

Unschooling on Vacation in Florida Part 1

The term "vacation" doesn't really apply to unschoolers, who are not regimented into a time schedule or specific learning space. But since our family has just returned from five weeks in Florida, and English doesn't have a better term for that kind of sojourn, I'll just call it a vacation.

What always amazes me is how much one can learn simply by stepping out of the everyday routine. We did not design an educational field trip. This trip was a celebration of my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. They invited my husband, my sons, and me to spend the month of February with them in sunny, warm Florida to get out of the frigid northeast winter. They rented a house off the internet in Jensen Beach on the Atlantic Coast and we just planned on being with my parents, hanging out by the pool, and playing on the beach.

We took this trip in stages. My younger sons, 11 and 14, and I left freezing NJ the last weekend in January, driving towards Florida. First stop: friends in Catonsville, Maryland (outside Baltimore). Aside from visiting with my delightful friends, we wandered through music stores and toured Baltimore. We spent half a day at the acclaimed National Aquarium, wandering from rainforest to arctic, then cheering on the trained dolphins as they leapt and splashed.

Leaving Monday morning, I drove south, watching our car's outdoor thermometer slowly creep up from 29 degrees in Maryland, to 36 in southern Virginia, and finally a balmy 56 when we stopped for the night in Charleston, South Carolina. The boys and I ditched our warm wool socks and left our winter coats in the car.

The following day we arrived in Jensen Beach, Florida where the temperature was 79 degrees! The home my parents rented was unbelievably large, beautifully decorated and filled to the gills with original artwork! At dinner, we discussed the quantity of the paintings on the walls, which sparked the boys to estimate how many. Younger son guessed 45. Older son thought the number was much higher, in the 70s. My parents thought there might even be 80. After dinner, the boys carefully counted every painting hanging in each room of the house, including the outdoor bathroom and discovered that everyone had guessed too low: 106 paintings! Most of them were done by Cuban artists. Fascinating. Surrounded by all this art, we felt as though we were living in a very comfortable museum. Along with the art were many books about Cuba, art, and antiques.
The patio housed the swimming pool and spa, and backed up to a nature sanctuary where many nature birds nested and fed. The boys photographed pelicans, cranes, and even a bald eagle.

And they swam! Living in NJ and having no pool, we don't have many opportunities to swim.
Little guy set a goal: by the end of the month he'd like to be able to swim 25 laps. Day One he swam three laps.

If you are keeping track, by the time we had spent one day in Jensen Beach, the boys had covered science, social studies, art, math, and physical education.

To Be Continued...

Inspired by Vermont and the Massachusetts World Food Market

Recently my son and I spent some time in Vermont, working, exploring towns we had never seen, and getting to know people we had never met. The company was so interesting; in fact some of the most interesting people anywhere. Talking to them was educational for both me and my son. We learned details about the sugaring process from a woman who produces her own syrup at home as a hobby. We learned a great deal about Japanese culture from a woman who lived abroad for over ten years. And we explored the terrain of St. George on a guided hike by a long-time resident.

The food we ate was also stellar.

At the home of a new friend, my son and I enjoyed what is known as "Vermont Curry." Apparently, it is very common but new to us. There are many varieties. Our friend showed us the package label in Japanese and read the ingredients, all vegan. And at the home of another Vermonter, we enjoyed a delicious stir-fry which included among the farm-fresh vegetables, some canned seasoned seitan which I'd never encountered before.

During a lovely dinner at A Single Pebble in Burlington, with blogger @Cookveganlover, Lindsay, and her husband, we shared a rich, scrumptious tapioca pudding made with coconut milk. We declared that we would recreate it at home, using rice. But then I found some very nice pearl tapioca at the World Food Market in Hadley, Massachusetts. Searching the aisles, I also located the previously mentioned "Vermont Curry" blocks, which I was able to identify by sight as the package is written in Japanese. (I made sure to buy the ones that did not have cheese or honey in the ingredients.) Then I stumbled on the seasoned seitan that our friend Peg threw into her fresh vegetable stir-fry. Now I have all of the hard-to-find ingredients so I can recreate these wonderful Vermont dishes at home.

Last night, I chopped onions, celery, potatoes and carrots and threw them into a large pot with water. Adding Vermont Curry cubes (2), and boiling red rice in a separate pot, I thought I'd done exactly what needed to be done. Wrong! My curry was so much thinner and soupier than the one I'd eaten in Bristol. Sad. I had to add several tablespoons of corn starch mixed with water in order to thicken it to the desired consistency. After the thickening, it still tasted watery. So I added two more cubes for seasoning and it was just right. It yielded a ridiculously large amount, so I have lots leftover and some frozen.

I was more successful with the tapioca pudding. So I will share that recipe here.

Tapioca Pudding

1/2 cup pearl tapioca
2 cups coconut milk
1 cup soy milk
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup vegan cane sugar
2 tablespoon corn starch
3 tablespoons warm water
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp orange zest

Combine pearl tapioca and milks and salt in saucepan over low heat, stirring constantly. Slowly add sugar while stirring. Beat corn starch and warm water with a fork, add to pan. Continue stirring and heating until boiling. Allow to boil for about one minute, then lower heat. Pudding should start to thicken. Once thick, turn off heat. Add vanilla extract and orange zest and allow to cool. Can be served warm but is better chilled from refrigerator.

Makes 4 - 6 servings.

Creative Parenting

"How are you creative?" This question, posed by Chad Brannon on twitter, got me thinking about creativity. I instantly rejected the obvious: painting (I'm too messy), drawing (do you like this stick figure? 0
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musical instruments (not since high school). Then it occurred to me that parenting my four children, each with very specific and unique desires, is where my creativity lies.

When they were toddlers, it was simple to make up a song on the spot that taught how to wash hands. Even a purple dinosaur could do it. As the kids have gotten bigger, so have the challenges.

I remember teaching my daughter how to multiply by 10. It was harder than I'd thought. She was very bright and had learned addition and subtraction instantly. But looking at the problems on the page, she couldn't understand multiplying the tens by the ones and adding a zero to the end. I continued explaining, she continued being confused. Before we both became frustrated, I changed paths. We both stood up. We enlisted the help of her younger brothers. Julia stood with one arm straight in the air; she was the number 1. Tommy, with his arms overhead in an "O" became zero. I yelled out, "1 times 10 is, jump to the left," Julia leapt to the left, Tommy stood to her right. "10" they replied. We continued. "10 times 10 is, jump to the left," adding Anthony to the right as another zero. "100." With one lesson, all three learned the simplicity of multiplying by 10. I chalk that lesson up as a win.

They aren't always wins. But it's the losses that push me to explore my creative limits further.

On vacation, we decided to order dinner in one night. The six of us, two vegans, two fish eaters, two vegetarians bickered about the cuisine. "Let's get Greek."
"There's nothing I can eat from the Greek restaurant."
"I want Italian."
"Everything Italian has cheese in it. I don't eat cheese."
Exhausted and hungry, I started snapping at everyone. I tried to force everyone to agree. That failed. We took a vote; it was split evenly. Finally, I decided to just get everyone exactly what he or she wanted. My husband and I ordered one dish from every ethnic restaurant, then drove around the island picking it up. When we returned, everyone was surprisingly thrilled to share and enjoy what became our new tradition: "International Night."

Raising children who can wash their own hands, multiply, and eat with chopsticks is how I am creative. How do you express your creativity?