Chocolate Shakes and being the “teacher”

When T was kindy aged, we went on a road trip to California. My husband and I packed up the RV and our kids and hit the open road. We made some stops and saw some sights while we were on our way to our destination. It was September and the air was still glowing warm from summer but the cooler breeze was suggesting fall was on it’s way.

I am someone who has a requisite amount of wanderlust. I think I caught it from my Grandma. She was an absolute spark plug of a woman. It was incredible that so much personality fit into her barely 5 foot frame. She was an immigrant from Canada but would yell at us in Hungarian. I barely remember a vacation as a child that she didn’t accompany my family on. I have the best memories of our station wagon pulling up in front of the house she and my Grandpa lived in on the first morning of a trip. The only light on in the house was a lamp next to the telephone whose cord corkscrewed to the floor. They would carry out their suitcases and we would pile into the car. It was magic. Grandma would sit in the middle seat and feed us little lifesaver candies that usually had kleenex remnants stuck to them. When we ran out of those, she would give us cough drops, not the cherry lozenges- the menthol ones that she said kept her bronchitis calm when the air conditioner bothered her. One of my absolute favorites though- was when we drove at night. She would sing the same song about the moon- over and over- it became the lullaby of my childhood. I would rest my head on the shoulder of her soft pink cardigan clad shoulder and watch the moon chasing our car along winding, lonely roads. It is easy to put myself back in the moment, even now.

So naturally, I wanted to create experiences like this with my own kids. So, this one trip in particular, the one I mentioned before my memory banks opened and spilled their dividends of my childhood with you…….we had been driving for hours and were delighted to stumble upon an “In and Out Burger”. The hubs went to grab our box filled with all things a burger should be, while I stayed in the RV with the kids. Baby sister was happy playing in her carseat and I decided that it was a perfect moment to don my teacher hat.

Indulge me for a moment. The dialogue isn’t exact but this is an accurate depiction of what transpired between T and I.

Mother/teacher opens phonics book to page one and begins explaining the sound “a”.

T: That’s a huge tree.

Me: Where do you see a tree, that is an apple. A a a a apple. Say it with me.

T: What kind of tree is that? Are those acorns?

Me: Oh! A a a a a acorns. Very good. (I’m feeling pleased, clearly I am very good at teaching and my child is a genius)

T: Do birds eat the acorns?

Teacher/ Mother looks confused. Searches page for birds.

Me: B b b b b birds! Yes, tomorrow. We can talk about B b b b birds tomorrow. Today is A a a a a a apple.

T: (now pointing out of the window) Can we go collect some acorns?

Me: (Now seeing the gigantic Oak tree we are parked next to) No. We are doing our school work. We cannot go collecting acorns. This is learning time.

T: I want to learn about trees.

Me: T t t t trees. Yes, yes, we will.

T: I want to see what is inside and acorn.

Me: Look at this book.

T: I need to go outside and find some acorns.

Me: If we get our work done, we can.

T is now looking everywhere except at his phonics book. His cheeks are red and he looks sad. I try to go on. He won’t even look in my direction- he instead is studying the immense arm like branches coming off of the trunk of this tree like an octopus. Hubs is returning from his adventure into “In and Out” and is balancing T’s chocolate shake on top of his french fries. He hands T the shake.

Me: He can’t have that shake yet. He won’t do his work.

Hubs: (Clearly wondering what has happened since he was out foraging and he kind of holds the milkshake in some sort of purgatory between T and I) T do you need to finish something first. (I nod my approval)

My child needed to understand that if we were going to homeschool, I was his teacher in that moment, not just his mom. His mom would have given him that milkshake and let him climb a tree and collect acorns to his heart’s desire. But teachers were different. They hold you accountable. No work. No recess. But something else was happening in that moment. I wanted both. I desparately wanted to be his mom. My heart ached to grab his hand and go learn about acorns. But there were workbook pages needing attention! People would know that I had blown off lesson number one for burgers and milkshakes under a tree.

T: Mom won’t let me learn.

Hubs: Mom said you wouldn’t do your work.

T: Because I wanted to learn.

Hubs: To learn you have to do the work.

Me: (Now salivating like one of Pavlov’s pups over the smell of my long long awaited cheeseburger) Maybe we need a lunch break.

So Hub’s takes T outside and they sit under the tree eating fries and milkshakes and I watched through the window- which became a symbol for the whole exchange. How could I be both people? How could I be his teacher and his mom? How could he learn if he wouldn’t do the work? I couldn’t and he couldn’t. I can only be his mom. But I can be his mom that also campaigns for his interests. I can be a mom that protects his passions and makes them my own by learning from him. I can be the mom who helps him carve his space in the world so that like that oak tree, his roots are strong and his arms can stretch out and grow where ever those fibers take him.

And that brings me to the lesson I should have started with L l l l love.

That’s how I would get there.