Gretchen Frampton

Teaching Kids to Drive

Last week I took Emily and Ellie out for their first drive. They turned 15 a few months ago, and it was time to start practicing.

It was their first time behind the wheel, so I kept things simple. I drove to an empty school parking lot. I stopped the car in the middle – lots of space on every side of us.

“Who’s first?”

Emily was quick to reply, “I’ll go!”

She got behind the wheel and started adjusting the seat and mirrors. I hadn’t even told her to look at the mirrors. Maybe she’s seen me, Chad, and Mary do it when we get behind the wheel. The things they notice.

I walked her through the basics – the parking brake, the gears, and the pedals. I had her change gears while the parking break was still on. I had her pump the brakes a couple of times while the car was still in park. Then I had her release the parking break and let the car roll a bit, then stop. Roll a bit, then stop. Gently, slowly getting a feel for how the car moves and the pedals respond. I told her to drive slowly around the parking lot.

That was all the direction I gave. She was nervous, and she took it slowly.

While she was driving, a minivan joined us in the parking lot. We hoped they’d realize what we were doing and park on the other side. Then we noticed the two switch seats – it was a Mom and her son. Another driving lesson about to begin.

Emily continued her circles and figure eights. We lurched forward a couple of times as she got used to the touchy gas pedal.

Meanwhile, the minivan didn’t move. The Mom was talking to the son as he sat in the driver’s seat.

Our car came to a hard stop. “Whoops, sorry,” Emily apologized. Touchy brakes too.

I had Emily park the car. Then I had her put it in reverse and back out of the parking spot. With nothing around her, there wasn’t any danger of hitting anything. She was learning the gears, the mirrors, and the general movement of the car.

The minivan was still parked. The mom was still talking.

I wondered aloud – “How much will that boy remember?”

“Nothing,” Emily replied.

We all agreed.

My kids tune me out after two sentences. I don’t think it’s because I’m boring. Kids learn by doing. They listen when they need information. Providing just-in-time coaching is the most effective way to teach kids what they need to know – because they’ll hear it.

Today was about getting comfortable with the pedals, steering wheel and how the car moves. We weren’t going to leave the parking lot, so there wasn’t any need to go teach them about the blinkers. The sun was shining, so we didn’t talk about windshield wipers. Speedometer? They wouldn’t get above 15 mph in a parking lot. And I don’t want them worried about watching the speedometer while they’re just getting used to the gas pedal.

All of these things are important, and we’ll cover all of them as we drive with the girls. I know that because Washington state requires kids log 50 hours of driving before they take their drivers test. Chad and I hold firm to this. Nothing can prepare kids to drive safely more than practice. So we were happy to download the RoadReady app and log both Payton and Mary’s hours when they were learning. Mary hit 50 hours, 10 minutes before she took her drivers test. Payton reached 32 hours. He never took his test. We wouldn’t let him sign up for the test because he didn’t reach 50 hours. He’s 20 years old now, so he can do whatever he wants. But he’s chosen not to drive (that’s a topic for another post).

Because the girls will spend 50 hours behind the wheel (both declared they want their license), I don’t need to cover everything in the first drive. I can give them information in small chunks, letting them learn gradually. Two or three new lessons each time we drive. I know there will be a big shift as they begin driving on the roads. Even then, I can carefully select the roads we use in the beginning. Wider, less trafficked streets. Start by taking only right turns. They can use the blinker several times, learn to watch for pedestrians and cars, and continue learning how to maneuver the car. Then, when they’re comfortable with that, we’ll turn left.

Long speeches are a thing of the past. They’re ineffective and give a false sense of confidence to the teacher that they’ve done their job. Teaching requires flexibility. Teachers who want to be successful must meet the learner where they are. Combining learning styles – talking, doing, reading, with a heavy emphasis on doing.

So, every weekend we’ll be in the car with the girls, teaching them how to drive. A few more times in the parking lot, then we’ll take to the streets. We’ll go at their pace, adding new lessons as they’ve mastered the earlier ones. No need to worry if you drive in West Seattle – they’ll do just fine.

Car Rides & Carpools

Want to know what your kids are thinking? Take them on a car ride or drive their carpool.

Yesterday I drove my son, Payton, back to college. He goes to the University of Portland, a 3-hour drive from Seattle. It was just me and him. Our family established an expectation that whoever is in the passenger seat has the job of keeping the driver awake and tending to their needs – unscrewing the top of my water bottle, getting my snack out of my backpack and putting it within reach, or sending a text. All of this to ensure a safe drive to wherever you’re going. So, Payton didn’t put on his headphones and zone out. He sat beside me and we chatted. On that drive I learned a lot, and it reminded me how valuable car rides with kids can be at finding out what’s on their minds.

I didn’t start the conversation. I left some silence and Payton filled in. He’s considering changing majors, and he shared what he learned from a conversation he had with a counselor. I asked some probing questions, like what was driving his desire to make a change. Physics was proving tough. Was Payton running from it? He reassured me he doesn’t love physics, but that’s not what’s driving his thinking.

There would be lulls in the conversation. Then, because there wasn’t anything else to do, Payton would share more.

I learned that he’d been concerned about his performance at school but was feeling better after his counselor made a few comments indicating Payton was doing just fine. Even better than others in some areas, like ‘statics’. I learned that, unlike a couple of his friends, Payton is not considering taking a semester off from school if they go virtual (Covid 19 cases are rising again with the omicron variant and there’s talk of schools going virtual). We reflected on a conversation we’d had with family during the holidays that covered several issues we don’t agree on – politics, women’s rights, vaccinations. Hearing Payton’s reactions to our family’s point of view was both funny and reassuring (side-note, I’m grateful to my family for having conversations like the one we did. It’s not easy these days, and we all agreed we need to keep talking).

I asked Payton if he’d mind taking time for a sit down lunch. I was getting hungry and not much was available – we were well past Chehalis by this point. But a McMenamins was coming up in Kalama – a Pacific NW pub serving handcrafted beer and good pub fare. I didn’t need the beer, but I knew Payon would enjoy their burgers. During lunch, I learned that he’s anxious the tennis courts may be closed and hopeful he can play this weekend with one of his friends who’s a fantastic tennis player and really pushes Payton. I learned he’s hoping to land a job or an internship this summer. After lunch, we hopped back in the car. The last 30 minutes of the drive were quiet. There weren’t many other topics for us to cover.

The drive reminded me of the carpools I used to drive when the kids were younger. The kids would sit in the back with their friends and chatter about life. They weren’t talking to me. In fact, sometimes I think they forgot I was in the car. I heard about tough classes at school, sibling fights, boy crushes, and, occasionally, rule breaking (nothing serious). Kids talk differently with their friends, and I got to see a different side of them.

After I dropped Payton off at school, I took a short walk, got back in the car, and started the 3-hour drive back to Seattle. I don’t like driving, but the value I got from the ride with my son – and the value of driving carpool when the kids were younger – was well worth it.

Atomic Habit

This year I’m tossing aside the New Year’s Resolution and replacing it with an Atomic Habit, inspired by James Clear’s book Atomic Habits. I first heard about this via Brene Brown’s podcast Dare to Lead where she talks with James about his book. Throughout the podcast he shares simple, straightforward approaches to building good habits and breaking bad ones that made me wonder, why haven’t I done this sooner?

My Atomic Habit

For years I’ve imagined how fun it would be to play the piano. I took lessons for a couple of years during grade school (aka centuries ago). Our daughter Ellie plays, and I’ve really enjoyed listening to her practice (benefit of working from home). She chooses sad, moving songs and plays with emotion – you see it as she leans into the keys and then leans back, slowly lifting her fingers at the end of a note. She’s a Freshman in high school, and I sometimes think about the piano after she leaves. It will sit idle if no one can play it.

So, I wondered, maybe I could re-learn. I’ve had that thought a few times, but I quickly put it aside when I think about how packed our schedules are. How could I possibly fit more in? Four kids (okay three, one is in college now), a full-time job. Just keeping up with life is a lot. Two things came together that inspired me to go for it – I heard about Atomic Habits and it was Christmastime.

2-minutes a day

One of James’ points is that establishing a habit can, and should, start with as little as 2-minutes a day. Sure, to get really good at something you’ll have to commit more time than that. But another of James’ points – you can’t improve a habit before you’ve established it as a habit. The purpose of starting with 2-minutes is to build the habit first. “I practice a little every day” is more convincing than “I practiced for 40 minutes a few weeks ago.” To be clear – the person I’m convincing is myself. I’m building evidence that I’m the person I want to be – a piano player. Starting with 2-minutes a day also eliminates a lot of friction or barriers that I might face if I tried to commit more than that. And, James believes, starting small can still lead to big change over time – aka atomic.

As for Christmastime – I adore this time of year, especially the lights, the baking and the carols. I’ve always loved the idea of playing and/or singing carols with family and friends. So, picking a song would be easy.

“Ellie,” I declared, “I want to learn how to play ‘Silent Night’.”

Ellie didn’t hesitate. She got on her phone, looked up some sheet music and printed it. Then she sat down with me.

Ellie helped me work through the first few notes. First with my right hand. I kept trying to play the short notes quickly; she encouraged me to slow down. She told me not to worry about the pace while I learned the notes. She had me repeat “Silent Night, Holy Night” several times. Then we added the left hand. I repeated it several times with both hands.. “Silent Night, Holy Night.” Then she said, “That’s good for today.”

“Wait, that’s it?”

“Yeah, we’ll learn more tomorrow.”

The next day, Ellie sat with me again. I repeated “Silent Night, Holy Night“ several times. Then we added “All is calm”. First the right hand, then the left, then together.

Then we stopped.

Unknowingly, Elie reinforced the 2-minute habit, and it was working. Even just two stanzas at a time. By doing them often (I confess I didn’t practice EVERY day) I was making progress. By Christmas, I could play the whole song. I stumble, but I don’t mind. I’m enjoying it. And I don’t feel the angst of having made a commitment I cannot keep.

Next December, I’ll play “Silent Night” again, and, hopefully, I’ll add “Jingle Bells” to my short repertoire. In the meantime, I need to find a new song, so I can keep the habit.

“Ellie…..”

Side note: After writing this, I realized I’m showing my kids we’re never too old to learn something new. That includes being okay with not being very good. I stumble on simple notes. I feel a little embarrassed. But I remind myself that’s part of learning. If they see me comfortable making mistakes and working through them, maybe they’ll give themselves grace when they’re learning something new.

Opening Gifts – Our Enthusiasm Almost Created a Monster

When kids are infants, they don’t understand what it means to receive a gift, let alone open one. It’s when they’re about three years old that they start to get the magic of Santa and the joy of opening presents. As parents, we were eager to watch our son, our first born, experience this. So eager we almost created a monster.

Christmas Eve, after Payton went to bed, we stuffed his stocking and put out his Santa gift. I don’t remember what we got him. My memory was more around how eager I was to see his reaction the next morning. Chad and I got up early so we wouldn’t miss it.

When he came out of his room Christmas morning, Payton didn’t notice. He’d seen the gifts under the tree and the added gift wasn’t registering. So we urged him over to the tree and showed him his gift. When he realized it was his, he was thrilled to focus his attention on his new toy. But he still had a stocking, so we urged him to put his new gift aside and explore what was inside the giant sock. Candy, trinkets, and Legos. Payton was happy to open his Legos and start building. But we still had the gifts under the tree to open, so we urged him to put his Legos aside and said, “Hey Payton, put that down. Look at this one!”

Suddenly Chad and I stopped. We looked at each other, realizing what was happening. We were pushing our son to dismiss every gift he got so he could see what was next.

Could we really be surprised next year if he presumptuously asked for his next gift? Nope. It would be our fault for teaching him to do exactly that.

That’s not the kid we wanted to raise.

We paused. We let him build his Lego set. Chad opened a Lego set too, and they built them side-by-side. We’ve continued this tradition ever since. Everyone gets a small Lego set in their stocking and we pause while everyone puts theirs together. And we give fewer gifts. Everyone gets a gift from Santa and one gift from Mom and Dad. Just one. As our family grew (we have four kids) they got each other one gift, too. So there are a lot of presents to share. But we take our time, and we let everyone spend a few moments enjoying what they got before moving on.

Anxiety

Anxiety is showing up in moments I wouldn’t have expected.

Recently I was out of town, attending a work offsite. During the happy hour I received two phone calls from an unfamiliar number. The only people who call me are my family. Friends text, even if only to ask if I have time to talk. Calls from unknown numbers tend to be junk, so I ignored them.

Later, during dinner, I realized I had a third call from the same number. The persistence made me wonder, then I noticed the voicemails. Spam callers don’t leave voicemails, so I got up from the dinner table and listened. It was the Seattle Public Schools Contact Tracing Center. They said Ellie had been in contact with someone who’d tested positive for Covid-19. They told me to call the number and talk with them before she returned to school. It was Tuesday at 9:30pm. I called my husband. We agreed I’d try to call the number in the morning. If I couldn’t get a hold of anyone before 7:15, when the girls leave to catch the bus, we’d keep them home. Ellie and Emily are twins. If Ellie is exposed, Emily is too. Better safe than sorry. The girls were already asleep, so he’d tell them in the morning.

The next morning I called at 6:30, no one was there. I called at 7. No answer. I texted Chad. He said he’d keep them home for the day. My job done, I sat in my cozy hotel room (it had a fireplace!) with a cup of coffee and the newspaper. A bit of quiet before the day’s meetings began.

At 8:15 they called me. The woman said we’d need to keep Ellie home “since she’s not vaccinated.” I was quick to correct her – both Emily and Ellie are fully vaccinated. “Oh, then as long as she doesn’t have any symptoms, she can return to school anytime!” It was too late to send them to school that day (they attend an alternative school that’s an hour bus ride each way), so we let them stay home.

When I got home that night, Chad warned me. The day we both assumed would have been a delight for the twins was met with tears and anxiety. We thought the girls would relish the idea of being at home. A day of watching movies or binging on Netflix. But, Chad had noticed Emily sitting on the couch, sitting still, looking down. Something was off. He stopped what he was doing and walked over to her. He asked if she was okay. Her shoulders started to shake. He put his arms out, she stood up, and he gave her a long hug. After a bit of a cry, Emily told Chad the last minute change in plans stressed her out. She wouldn’t be able to take her Spanish test. She’d been looking forward to her Career Connect class. And they’d have to take two buses to practice, instead of the one that goes straight from school to the field where they play Ultimate Frisbee.

None of these seemed worth stressing over. The Spanish test would be there the next day. Sure, two buses instead of one was inconvenient, but was it worth tears? For me or Chad, maybe not. But for the kids, it was.

When I picked Emily and Ellie up from Ultimate practice that night, I asked the usual, “How was your day?” Emily didn’t hesitate. “It was stressful having our plans changed at the last minute.” She was also quick to say, “I know it wasn’t your fault.” She wasn’t complaining. Her tone was matter-of-fact. Like she was declaring – this happened, it stressed me out, it wasn’t anyone’s fault, and I’m dealing with it. Then they both laughed a bit as they said the show they’d picked to watch was a bad one – it hadn’t helped their stress at all.

She was okay.

Anxiety isn’t something we’re very familiar with, yet. Chad and I will be learning as we go. Looking back on this situation, I’m so grateful Chad picked up on the queues that something was wrong and that he paused. Afterall, she was just sitting there. He could have walked right by. He could have realized something was a bit off but kept walking to his office so he could make his work call (he and I both have been working from home since Covid-19 started). But he didn’t. He stopped, sat with Emily, and gave her a shoulder to cry on and an ear to talk to. He made sure she was seen and heard. He didn’t judge her for being more anxious than he might have been in the same situation. He didn’t try to fix anything (like make a dramatic effort to drive her to school). He just let her be as she was at that moment.

If I Could Do It Over…

When I thought of the idea of a blog about things I wish I could do over, I came up with a LONG list. It was too long for a blog (and a bit embarrassing), so I decided to choose three. These feel pervasive and, I hope, that by naming these, I might make better choices in the future.

Safeway. Grocery shopping. Payton was three years old, Mary one. Mary was in the cart and Payton was walking, only this time, he thought it would be fun to run. I was startled. He never ran!? We shop every week, they know the routine, and they’re usually both good about staying with me. This time Payton ran through the aisles. I rushed after him. To my horror he ran through the wine aisle. Next thing I knew….CRASH! A bottle of wine smashed onto the floor. I stood there looking at Payton as the realization washed over me: from everyone else’s perspective, I’m THAT Mom. The one with unruly kids. The one I usually judge from the top of my pedestal as I walk quietly through the aisles with my well behaved children. Not this time. This time others were looking at me wondering, “What kind of parent lets their kids run all over the store?” “Doesn’t she discipline her kids?”

The manager came over. He was kind. He said it happens all the time. Instead of graciously thanking him, I grabbed Payton hard by the arm and reprimanded him harshly. I don’t remember what I said, I only remember angrily taking my embarrassment out on him. I wish I could go back and thank that manager for his kindness. I wish I could keep my embarrassment in check. Payton deserved to be reprimanded, but not the way I’d done it.

Spilled milk. Ellie and Emily were about two years old and they were learning how to use glasses. That included pouring their own milk. At least one of them spilled a glass every meal. At least it felt like it was every meal. I was so tired of cleaning up milk. I was tired of a lot of things – folding laundry, washing dishes, picking up after everyone. At the time, we had four kids under the age of seven and both Chad and I worked full-time. Our days were full – never a moment to pause. After a while I showed my exhaustion by getting angry and yelling at Emily and Ellie for spilling their milk again. If I could do it over, I’d have taken a time out. I would have stepped away before getting angry, realizing my anger had nothing to do with them or the milk. I needed space, but I wasn’t – and am still not – good at recognizing when I need it. That’s an ongoing lesson the universe keeps putting in front of me, and I keep learning it, over and over.

For many years, our lives were a hamster wheel – the same thing day after day. Wake up, go for a run, shower, empty dishwasher, get kids off to school, go to work, come home, pick up after the kids, make dinner, drive kids to activities, do the dishes, fold laundry, put kids to bed, go to bed. I was tired and tired of the routine. I wanted space to think, to reflect, to process thoughts beyond deciding what’s for dinner. I thought about taking a weekend away. Just me, by myself. But I was reluctant to ask. Me leaving would have put everything on Chad. And I don’t think he would have understood. He didn’t seem to need or want the same space that I did. It didn’t help that one of the things I wanted to do was sleep. My mother-in-law believes, “you can sleep when you’re dead.” My husband has the patience of a saint. No one around me wanted a nap or a break. So I didn’t take one. The most I took was a long run or walk by myself. If I could do it over, I wish I had taken a weekend alone once or twice a year.

Now that the kids are older (and they’re less interested in me than I am in them) I get the space I need. My long walks are truly unencumbered – I can walk without purpose, letting my mind wander as long as I want because I don’t feel pressure to be back home in 90 minutes. I can take a nap in the afternoon because my kids can get a glass of milk or toast some bread on their own. I can spend a quiet morning reading or writing, because my kids aren’t awake yet. And, when they wake up, or when they want or need me, I’m ready, and eager, to be there for them. I realize I love my hamster wheel. I enjoy making dinner. Okay, maybe I don’t like folding laundry, but I enjoy the evenings when we’re all in the family room together while I’m folding it.

The message I need to hear is – I don’t have the patience of a saint. I need to take space so I can show up better – handle my embarrassment, deal with my exhaustion and see how much I love my family and my life.

The art of saying “yes” is especially helpful during the holidays

During the holidays, treats are everywhere. Baking is a big part of how we celebrate so, at any given time, we have lots of different cookies or treats around the house. Stores have special holiday treats too, and, because it’s the holidays, we want to say “Yes” to everything. “Sure, you can have the candy cane the store clerk is handing out.” “Yes, I’ll get you a gingerbread cookie from the coffee shop (and yes please to my peppermint mocha).”

When we get home, the kids ask for a piece of fudge. Hmmm, I think to myself. They’ve just had treats. But the pieces of fudge are really small, and they were really good today, and it’s the holidays…..oh, why not. “Okay,“ I declare, “but eat these three carrot sticks first, then you can have one. But just one.” Those three carrot sticks make me feel better.

After dinner, the kids want dessert. They usually have dessert, so one cookie would be normal. But they’re quick to point out we have so many tasty treats, how could they pick just one? Okay, you can have two.

When I look back at the day, I realize I’ve given them more treats in one day than they usually have in a week. I didn’t mean for it to happen. We can’t keep going at this rate. At some point I have to say “no.” But when?

Chad and I talked about it. We wanted to let the kids have treats but not too many. We also wanted to minimize the time we spent managing them and limit arguments. So we decided on a compromise. We’d let the kids have two treats a day, everyday. Their choice. The only time we’d say “no” was if they’d already had their two treats for that day. Otherwise, the choices were theirs. The time of day didn’t matter. Want a piece of fudge for breakfast? Sure. The type of treat didn’t matter. Payton tended to pick from the two biggest options – large sugar cookies covered in thick frosting.

The kids were thrilled with our new rules. “You mean I can have a cookie for breakfast?!” Umm, that wasn’t the point, but, yes, you can.

On the first day they finished their two treats before noon. The rest of the day was tough as the kids tested the boundaries.

“Pleeeaaassse?!!!” they cried after dinner when we told them they couldn’t have dessert because they’d already eaten their two treats for that day. Reality was setting in.

“You’ve made your choices today, and I hope you enjoyed them.”

“But Mom, it’s just one small piece of peppermint bark!”

“You can have a piece tomorrow, if you want to.”

“But tomorrow is so far away! I haven’t had a treat since lunchtime.”

“True. You finished your treats early today. That means you had longer to wait. That must be hard. Tomorrow you’ll get to make a whole new set of choices. Maybe you can save one of your treats for later in the day. I look forward to seeing what you decide to do.”

The first two days were the hardest. The kids tested us to see if we’d stick to the rules. The best outcomes happened when we didn’t waiver. We knew we’d succeeded when the conversation changed.

“Mom, are you making shortbread today?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because I want to save one of my treats so I can have some tonight.”

(Silent celebration ensued)

Two for the price of one. Our intent was to manage how many treats they ate, but we got a second win. We got to watch the kids learn about delayed gratification and see the choices they made.

Key to success:

Make sure you and your partner are committed to whatever you declare
Tell the kids the rules before you start
Stick to your commitment*
Hold the kids accountable and capable

*If you find you’re unable or unwilling to stick to your commitment, rethink it. It’s okay to make a change. Maybe two treats is too few. Four? Okay, as long as you’re clear with the kids and you’re ready to stick to the new declaration. Repeatedly giving in will reinforce that begging works, and the kids will use that. For us, that was a miserable outcome, so a few days of tough love was well worth the long-term gain.

Thank you Jane Nelson, for your book Positive Discipline. You taught us the words and gave us the confidence to hold firm in situations like these.

Thanksgiving

This year I’m particularly thankful for the people around me.

My neighbors, who we can count on for everything from taking care of our house while we’re gone to sharing advice about raising kids. Payton graduated in the middle of Covid-19. Graduation was cancelled. No one was going anywhere. I called on my neighbors and they showed up – eager and ready to create a celebration just for him.

My girlfriends, who are my essential support network. They’ve been by my side through life’s celebrations and challenges over the past 15 years. Thank you for the past, present and future.

My Dad. who is….my Dad. Despite being in my forties, I still find comfort knowing he’s there. If something went really wrong in life, I’d have him to go to – to hug me while I cry, to advise me through a problem, to hand me a martini after a tough day.

My Dad’s wife. For loving him and for loving my kids as a grandmother. I miss my Mom, and I’m grateful for you (it took a while for me to learn I can feel both at the same time).

My family – the Frampton/Augustine side. We’ll miss you this Thanksgiving! But we’re excited about your new adventure, and we wish you a safe and happy turkey day.

My family – the Wollmuth/Thornburgh side. For sharing funny, supportive, congratulatory text messages when we all need it. Celebrating our birthdays, wishing Happy Thanksgiving, announcing achievements.

My sister. Who is, and always will be, my very best friend (and, on behalf of my kids, thanks for your chocolate chip cookies. They’re the best!)

And I’m grateful for my family. I’m happy to have my son home from college. He’s a sophomore year at the University of Portland, and I don’t know how many more of these Thanksgivings I’ll get. I’m grateful my kids still want to play our family game – soccer or ultimate frisbee. Something to get some fresh air and exercise before our big Thanksgiving meal.

And for my husband, Chad. Who asked me for “two more minutes” to snuggle in bed before we got up today.

What are you thankful for today?

A Path of Their Own

Emily and Ellie, our twin girls, have always been somewhat shy. They avoid interactions with others when they can, and they tend to go with the flow to avoid drawing unwanted attention. That’s why we were startled when Emily declared, “I’m not going to West Seattle High School.”

WSHS is the neighborhood school. Payton, our oldest, went there and Mary, our second, is a senior there. It was, and has been, great for them. We assumed Emily and Ellie would follow. It’s the path of least resistance. But to say I was totally surprised wouldn’t be true, either. Ellie and Emily’s school experience has been different. They often come home complaining that their teachers spend more time managing the classroom than teaching. Payton and Mary had some classes like this, but it felt more consistent for the twins (I have to give credit to a couple of teachers and staff who are amazing…Ms. Russell, their language arts teacher and Ms. Bell the librarian – both inspired and taught the girls a lot). Unfortunately, the twins’ experience weighed more heavily towards the unruly classrooms, and Emily and Ellie wanted a place where they could learn.

We looked into their options, and they chose three to consider: The Center School (TCS), Nova and Vashon High School.

TCS and Nova are alternative schools. TCS’s curriculum is centered around learning through art. Nova focuses on learning through inquiry and problem based instruction. Both are part of the Seattle Public School system, so tuition wouldn’t be required (we can’t afford private school – saving for college is daunting enough). Vashon is a smaller high school. Every year a small cohort of kids in West Seattle go to Vashon HS. We know of a couple of kids who go to TCS. We hadn’t heard of anyone going to Nova.

The decision wouldn’t come without risks. School funding is always in question. Would alternative schools like Nova and TCS suffer first if Seattle Schools face a funding shortage? The commute. TCS and Nova would require a city bus ride to downtown Seattle. Is that safe? Vashon requires a bus and a ferry ride. How much time would the girls have to spend commuting each day? The risks were mitigated a bit when we learned that, if the school they chose didn’t work out, the girls could switch back to West Seattle HS anytime, but we wanted to learn more.

Ellie and Emily’s best friend’s older brother went to TCS, so we talked with his parents. He, too, needed a different environment and smaller class sizes felt right, and they were happy with it. The teachers and staff really committed, good education. They had some gripes – the communication isn’t always clear, the counselor isn’t as responsive as they’d like – things you see at most schools. When we asked about the bus ride, her parents said several kids from West Seattle went to TCS. They discovered each other soon after the year started, and they tended to travel together, so they weren’t really alone. The commute was a non-issue.

We attended a couple of the school Open Houses. It was the year of Covid-19. School buildings were closed, so Open Houses were virtual. Chad, Emily, Ellie and I sat on our couch, the computer stationed on the piano bench in front of us, and we watched and listened to teachers and students from TCS and Nova talk about the schools – the purpose, the approach and, most importantly, the kids’ experiences. The kids who shared had a similar quiet demeanor as Ellie and Emily. They talked about how their existing schools just weren’t working for them. They said the switch TCS / Nova provided an environment where they were more comfortable engaging and participating. More than one said, “I’ve found my voice.”

That’s probably what solidified for me that one of these schools would be right for the girls. After the open houses, we asked them again, “what do you think?” Emily declared, “My first choice is the Center School, my second choice is Vashon, my third is Nova.” Ellie was quieter.

It’s easy to assume twins will make the same decisions. They’re closer to each other than to anyone else, and their choices are often the same. But they are, and want to be, unique individuals. So, we made sure to tell each of them explicitly – you can make your own decision. We weren’t sure what we’d do if only one wanted a downtown school (imagining Emily riding the city bus by herself gave us trepidation, but we’d cross that bridge if and when we got there). “Ellie, what are you thinking?” Ellie agreed with Emily’s choices, she just needed more time to work herself up to the change. We gave her some space to think and didn’t raise the question for several days.

When it came time to submit their school choices, they both chose The Center School as their #1 option. We submitted the paperwork, and in April, they got the formal confirmation, they were enrolled in TCS for their Freshman year of high school. They would be taking a path of their own.

Teach Kids the Joy of Giving

This is a post about holiday giving. I’m writing this one a bit early because many people are already shopping to get ahead of supply chain issues.

Giving gifts is work. Thinking about what the other person might want, searching for a gift, finding something great, only to realize you can’t afford it. Restarting your search. Kids couldn’t possibly understand all of this, but we can teach them.

Years ago Chad and I decided that at Christmas, all of our kids would give each other, and us, gifts. They were young, so we would pay for the gifts, but they had to choose, wrap and give them. We couldn’t afford much, so the price point was low. We’d take our kids to our local shops – Curious Kidstuff, Bartell Drugs, Click, Capers – and they’d search for gifts to give.

Some of the gifts they’ve given: a pair of socks, a very small Lego kit, a book, a candle. You might think it would be a bit sad to receive a pair of socks. But, whoever received the socks appreciated them because they’d asked for “something cozy”. They knew the giver couldn’t afford a blanket (our price point was way too low for that). So, the cozy socks were appreciated. It’s not about the size or amount or cost of the gift. It’s the thought that counts.

And kids learn the genuine joy of giving. I remember a gift I got from Emily. She was about five years old, and she was so excited for me to open the gift she’d gotten me. She bounced in her seat with anticipation. When I opened it, I saw a large necklace full of zinc zirconium (bright, “diamonds”). I’d asked for a “chunky” necklace, and she’d delivered. Part of her enthusiasm was, she explained, because the necklace was in the jewelry case at Target. To her, getting something from the jewelry case was truly special. I think she was more excited to watch me open my gift than she was to open her own. I couldn’t help but be touched. That was years ago, and I still remember it. True holiday spirit.

We’ve found so much joy and value out of this approach, I hope others will do the same. Please don’t be deterred by the possible cost. You can give homemade gifts. If you’re not naturally creative, it might feel odd at first, but if everyone is doing it, the appreciation for the thought and effort will come.