The Little Red Lighthouse

During our character education time this week we've been reading The Little Red Lighthouse and the Great Grey Bridge each morning. The book is about the pride the lighthouse feels as he goes about his job. However, at one point his pride goes to far and becomes the wrong kind of pride. The lighthouse declares, "I'm MASTER OF THE RIVER".

We started talking about the kind of pride that says, "I'm smarter or better than anyone else." We discussed how that type of pride sometimes leads to a fall or disappointment.

In the story, just after the lighthouse declares himself Master of the River, a great grey bridge is built right next to him. The lighthouse feels very small and unimportant next to this huge structure, with it's giant light flashing from the upper reaches of its steel columns. He gives up until the bridge calls to him during a storm and asks him to shine his light for the ships, since the bridge's light is only for the ships of the air. "To each his own, little brother", the great grey bridge tells him. The lighthouse returns to his work and now feels pride in his job but it is the proper kind of pride.

This is a pretty complex idea and so I waited until we'd read it a few times before I brought this to their attention. I thought maybe I'd tell them a story from my own life that could illustrate this.

I told them about how I was recognized in high school as a good singer. I was picked to be a part of elite vocal groups, sang solos and competed in state singing competitions. In college I joined a group and was the only non-music major and the only freshman allowed in the small acappella ensemble. However, they wanted me to sing alto instead of soprano which I'd never done. But I decided that since I made it into the group and I'd won awards in high school, I didn't need to practice or prepare. I could read music after all and was accomplished at sight reading.

Pride.

I was asked to sing four part harmony with three upperclassmen during a week long concert series. I was the only alto and I had to stand next to a soprano. The song was Silent Night and I thought, "I've been singing that song all my life. I need to just review it a couple of times but I'll be fine." We stood up to sing and after four notes the soprano reached over and gently put her hand on my hand. The message was clear. My notes were WAY off. I was so disappointed and embarrassed. I had set myself up for a fall with my pride. The next day I practised and rehearsed and when I sang the song again I got it right. My pride was back in check.

I told this story to my kidlets and I could see the wheels turning. BirdMan and GooseyGirl were quiet and really thinking about my story. Then RocketMan turned to look at me with his big brown eyes and I could see a question forming in his head. I felt this was a pivotal moment to connect with his forming moral consciousness. I was about to influence with my little man's thoughts.

"Mommy?", he said, "Can you believe how big this hole is in my sock?"

Arrrrghhhhhh......

Well, at least 2/3 of my children got it. Of course, RocketMan is the one who could most use this lesson but it went right over his head.

The War is Over

The Greeks won and Troy has been sacked. We finished the Iliad. The version we read was a condensed kiddo version by Kingfisher. I skipped over most of the gory middle part and we finished up with the last chapter which was about Paris shooting an arrow through Achilles' heel and killing him.

GooseyGirl was especially fascinated by this. There was a picture in our book of Achilles' mom, Thetis, holding onto Achilles as a baby as she dipped him in the protective waters of the river Styx. The picture clearly shows her holding him by his heel, thereby leaving that area of his body unprotected by the magical waters. GooseyGirl thought of other ways Thetis could have dipped Achilles without leaving a weak spot. It was fun to listen to her creative ideas like putting him in a basket with a lid and dropping that in.

RocketMan loved the part about the Trojan horse being pulled into the city with the dangerous warriors hiding inside. I've caught him sneaking into my office to take the Iliad down and reading it himself. He really enjoyed this story. In fact, they are acting it out as I type this in the other room. BirdMan is Odysseus and RocketMan is Achilles.

I loved how it gave us a chance to talk about how "Good" guys may not always be good and "Bad" guys may not always be bad. Throughout the Iliad they found themselves rooting for Greeks one minute and then for the Trojans the next. They saw how the heroes and gods had huge character flaws and sometimes act horribly. This was the first book they've read whose characters had a mixed bag of traits like that. Now that is a life lesson!

One of my top goals in their education is to provide pegs for them to hang future knowledge upon. Homer, Greeks, Trojans, Achilles' heel, Trojan Horse, Zeus, Poseidon, Odysseus, Paris, Helen , Hector. CHECK!

Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated.

Today during our grammar lesson we talked about the pronoun "I". The children were asked to dictate a story about themselves to me and I typed it on the computer as they spoke. What I discovered is that they rarely speak in the first person. Instead they speak in a collective voice.

It isn't, "I found a frog". It is "We found a frog".

It isn't "My mom gave me a cookie". It is "Our mom gave us a cookie".

It isn't "I am 6 years old". It is "We are six years old".

The tiny psychologist within me is fascinated by the notion of growing up in a group setting. I was an only child until I was 16 so, as the poem says, "It was I, I, I. It was me, me, me." The proportions of my teenage self-centeredness astound me.

I didn't have to share my toys, share my room, share my clothes. Everything in the house that was for children was there for me and me alone. It took a husband and three kids to break the selfish cycle that I lived in. Now, my life is spent on others. I have to remind myself to take time out just for me and my interests. That transformation was a huge life lesson which is why being a triplet is so fascinating to me.

How will their development be impacted by being a part of a collective? What does it mean to consider yourself as a part of a whole? I can see the good and the bad side of this issue. There are many books written about birth order and how that affects your personality on a fundamental level. But there aren't many books about being a triplet and how that impacts your self worth and identity.

The next 14 years should be an interesting ride, eh?

Gnome Migration documented by Flat Stanley

"Whilst not native to Australia, Gnomes are reportedly migrating from Europe and Britain to make a new start in 'new lands' where the impact of pollution is less. " This bizarre phenomenon was heralded by the Australian Gnome Convention.

It seems acres of land have become the new Gnome commune for smiling face, pointy hats, and red pants. GooseyGirl's Flat Stanely got to visit Gnome land in Australia and is considering starting a new Flat Stanley Village of his own.

The first inhabitants would be these two friends he met while traveling. Apparently, taking small flat men on vacation is a common endeavor in the land down under.

Stanley believe this is due to lenient zoning laws on creatures below 2' tall. No word yet on what the Kangaroos think of the blatant encroachment of their land.