I wrote a bit about this third-grade building project recently. I got to go to the school yesterday to take photos while the children left their hand prints in the freshly poured cement. What these three photos don’t show are the twenty-seven OTHER shining faces of Lucas’s beautiful classmates. They glow with 8- and 9-year-old vitality.

Here is the Oak Stage construction site. That big, dark tree trunk at the back is a gorgeous old oak tree. The little trunk in the middle of the stage is also an oak. At the front is the river rock moved by the third graders to make a drainage area. No symmetrical shapes, per R.S. architecture.

Here’s Lucas waiting for his turn to make his mark.

Here’s M and Lucas. This dad, Mr. C,  is the lead on this project and he is graciously donating his time and expertise to make it happen. Other class parents and grandparents are volunteering every day to work on the stage, too. Ian’s there right now, enjoying his day off!

I stand here, quietly gaping. Not too close, but neither am I uninvolved in what my son is doing in school these days. I watch with eagerness, hoping for glimpses into his life away from home, where he is encountering challenges both familiar to me and also completely alien. I listen with keen interest to every morsel he brings home and chooses to share. I am talking about my son’s experience of third grade at his Waldorf school.

In past years I have describe his school and its curriculum as “magical” or “enchanting.” It still is that, but this year it has taken on a new quality—a feet-on-earth quality that is serving to ground him and build him up in confidence and competence.

I will try to illustrate what I mean.

In third grade, the children study gardening. They will do so throughout their Waldorf lower school grades, but gardening is emphasized this year in particular. They are also studying ancient Hebrew culture and also cooking. To tie all of these together, they have harvested fruits and vegetables on the school farm, made soup from the harvest, built a sukkah (hut), and celebrated the Hebrew festival of Sukkot by eating in the sukkah. They are also learning songs in Hebrew. It used to be rare for Lucas to sing for us at home songs he learned at school. Now he swells with pride to sing in Hebrew a song about beating swords into ploughshares so that nations will go to war no more and that people can grow their vines and fig trees instead, which is taken from this Bible passage:

“They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks.
Nation shall not take up sword against nation, they shall never again know war.
But they shall sit every one under their vines and fig trees,
and none shall make them afraid.” (Micah 4.3-4)

Recently, they made bread in cooking class. But like the Little Red Hen, they really MADE THE BREAD. They cut down the stalks of wheat that they themselves sowed last year in second grade. Then they threshed the grain. Then they winnowed to separate the grain from the chaff. Then they ground the wheat to make flour. And only then, did they make and eat their bread.

Do you see why this boggles me?

Right now they are in the midst of a building block. This is a key element to the third-grade curriculum. Their class is going to rebuild and expand the school’s Oak Stage, an outdoor stage set in the woods on the school grounds near the American River that was getting a little too rickety. The children demolished the stage last week and together moved 8 tons of river rock! (Many hands make light work.) They poor cement tomorrow, barring rain. They will place their handprints into the foundation of the stage they are building for the school. Next week they will be measuring, sawing, hammering, building both the stage and their own skills.

In the classroom and in the kitchen (which are the same this year), they are learning about measurement, too. Tying in with their language arts study of the Old Testament and the Hebrews, they have learned how big a cubit is (debatable, but roughly the length of the forearm from elbow to tip of middle finger—about 18 inches), and that Noah’s Ark was 300 cubits long. Today they went out to the school’s field, rulers in hand, and measured out the size of the Ark, to see for themselves how big it might have been. “That’s 450 feet long, mom!” They are also learning about spans, fathoms, yards, and feet, experiencing these concepts in their own limbs.

“Firmly on the earth I stand.”

Lucas has just passed his half birthday, bringing him to the ripe old age of 8 and a half. And although I took these photos about a month ago, to me they capture something of his present age. This is my sensitive, clever boy flying through the air, determined, sure-footed, and courageous. He knows his capabilities. He can plan his footfalls, and he can adapt and switch course if he needs to.

He is self-assured and confident. He often marches into unknown territory with aplomb. His place in the universe is known and secure.

But there is still plenty of room for striving, for challenging himself, for testing and experimenting. It’s imperative. He must negotiate his way through space, through relationships, through his own needs and self-knowledge. He knows that he might get hurt, but he also knows he will heal if he does.

Sometimes he falls short or is disappointed. Sometimes he takes blows to his ego. Sometimes, despite all our efforts, he feels unloved and unwanted. He sits in judgment on himself and sometimes he doesn’t like what he sees. This too, is part of his age. He’s right where he’s supposed to be, figuring out who he is, and where and in what ways he is separate from others.

At this moment, he’s preparing to leave home. He has been planning an adventure for a few days now—one that he’s going on all by himself. He needs some freedom, he tells us. (At first his plan was to spend a whole day and night away, on his own, but that’s been modulated down to a more reasonable bike ride to his friends’ house a few blocks away. He knows to call me when he arrives there.)

Carpe diem! He is ready. He has a backpack full of provisions—lunch, a magnifying glass, and notebooks for any scientific discoveries he might make along the way. He also has his wand, just in case any bad guys or Dementors hassle him. He has his instructions and air in his tires. He knows his phone number.

Ah. That’s the bell on his bike. I hear it ringing as he rides out of the driveway, shouting good-bye. He made sure to give me a big hug and kiss, and gave some to his dad and brother, too. I saw the sparkle in his eyes. He is full of both our concern and our trust. He is feeling big, and capable, and sure.

Fare thee well, my sweet son.

Oh, preschoolers!

Yesterday Asher was playing pretend, as he does much of the time now. He described to me in great detail what kind of animal he was: “A really cute turtle that can fly with his wings,” except he had T-Rex back legs with claws of bats, turtle front legs with claws of “butterfly ladybugs,” knees of a hippo, and a turtle head with one fish eye and one T-Rex eye. And he hatched from an egg and rode around on a motorcycle made of laundry (despite having wings), rescuing sock babies.

Breaking the rules here to explain that my son was being contemplative in the cemetery, not mourning a loved one. He was having a quiet moment with his own thoughts.

Inspired by SouleMama {this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

I have written before about the glorious Pumpkin Path event that is held at Sacramento Waldorf School each Halloween. I’ve never before snapped pictures along the way because usually we’re there in the dark. This year, we went early.

Also, Lucas is usually with us. But this year, he said that he was feeling a little too old for it.

Oh. Really?

Um … OK.

I gave him plenty of opportunities to change his mind about not coming, but ultimately, Asher and I went by ourselves, along with other children from Asher’s preschool and his teacher.

We met the King and Queen at the beginning of our journey, as we do every year, only this time they were from Hawaii. They told us how we would journey through many lands and hear many important stories along the way. The children mustn’t be afraid, for they would wear flower leis around their necks to give them luck.

We saw a play set in ancient China and learned how the four dragons rescued the people from famine and drought. They were punished by the jealous King, who buried the dragons under four mountains, from which sprung the four great rivers of China.

We met Titania, queen of the fairies, who gave each child a bulb to plant as a way of helping the fairies with their important work of caring for the earth. We saw dancers from India, and also Native American dancers. We watched a shadow play featuring a fox who outsmarted the king of the crocodiles.

We even watched the “Judgment of Paris,” in which a silly boy chose to give the coveted golden apple to Aphrodite, affronting the other goddesses and inadvertently causing a great war.

Our path was lit by luminaries and jack-o’-lanterns, along with the early evening sun. We followed an angel guide who sang to us along the way. Asher didn’t hold back by me; he was right up front near the angel guide the whole time, striding bravely into new territory and watching with rapt attention. He came home with a bucket full of goodies, like crystals from the Chinese rivers, a flower bulb, popcorn, a candle, a shell necklace, and a tiny baby swaddled in wool.

We feasted on cookies when our journey was done, and then it was time to say good-bye to our dear friends and teacher, and meet the rest of the night’s adventures with warm hearts and eyes full of beauty.

I have to write this down before I forget. It was so beautiful yet fleeting.

Last night, while Ian was cooking dinner and I was working, our two brilliant boys played together. Not bickered, not cajoled, not provoked, not poked—but played together.

And choirs of angels sang. And the night sky burst open with beams of silver moonlight. And fairies everywhere got their wings.

There is now sometimes a sliver of a sweet spot, when Lucas pulls out of his emotional upheavals and budding analysis and Asher rides the tide of his blossoming imagination and role-playing—a place where they meet on some magical common ground. Maybe it’s fairyland. Maybe it’s Neverland.

Good Sir Knight Asher went looking for a worthy opponent to fight, and thought he found one in the Wicked Knight Lucas. He came galumphing forth to the throne of Queen Princess Mommy, to inform her that he would save the kingdom. But it turned out that Lucas was actually a Gentle and Wise Wizard, a longtime friend and counselor of the Queen Princess. Indeed, the two noble men were actually both on the side of Good and Right People, and together they set out on a Quest, traveling far and wide through dangerous lands. The Good Knight was brave and strong and the Wise Wizard used White Magic to face down the darkness.

They even rescued a baby, who was found locked in a dungeon, hungry and cold, and swaddled him up to take him home with them.

I will have more precious autumn picture books to share and recommend in the coming weeks, but since Halloween is fast approaching, I thought I’d do a roundup of some of our favorite Halloween stories. Beware when shopping for Halloween books. There’s a lot of junk out there. Seriously, if it’s a TV or movie character starring in a Halloween book, skip it.

I promise none of these books are scary. My older son is too sensitive (thus far) for scary Halloween stories. And Asher really doesn’t like “keepy guys.”

Clockwise:

Julia Donaldson’s Room on the Broom — This comical story, illustrated by Axel Scheffler, about a friendly witch who drops one thing after another off her broom while she’s flying is full of fun rhymes and cutsey animals. Each time she drops an item, such as her wand or hat, a friendly creature finds it and returns it, and thereafter becomes a traveling companion. The group does finally meet a scary dragon, but through their adventures, broom-riding friends become fearsome enough themselves to frighten that dragon away. As this book is fairly wordy for a picture book, I’d say it’s perfect for 4- to 8-year-olds. This is a Nice Witch Book, of which I am in favor, speaking as a grown woman who had many, many nightmares about witches when I was a small girl.

Kevin Lewis’s The Runaway Pumpkin — This Halloween picture book illustrated by S. D. Schindler is an all-time favorite in our house. Lewis has a gift for rhythm, and his refrain robustly beats off the page predictably and dramatically. I challenge you to read this book to your kids without slapping your thigh or tapping your toe in time. After finding the most giant pumpkin ever grown and rolling it homeward, the three children of this extended family get more than they bargained for! It’s all good in the end, because grandma cooks up delicious pumpkin goodies—just in time for Halloween.

Mary Serfozo’s Plumply, Dumply Pumpkin — Illustrated by Valerie Petrone, this book is great book for toddlers. It’s simple and sweet, and full of yumpcious, made-up words. The tiger goes looking for the perfect pumpkin for his jack-o’-lantern, and finds it, of course.

Norman Bridwell’s The Witch Next Door and Other Stories — This collection of four Witch Next Door stories by the creator of Clifford the Big Red Dog is a classic. It must be, right?—because I read these stories when I was a kid. A good witch moves into a “normal” neighborhood and quickly teaches everyone a thing or two about being good and neighborly. It gets my approval because it’s another Nice Witch Book and always has my boys (3 and 8 ) laughing.

Peter Glassman’s My Working Mom — OK, I admit I bought this one on lark when Lucas was less than a year old. Yes, it’s another Nice Witch Book. The little girl in the story explains how it can sometimes be challenging when you have a mom who works, especially when Mom’s busy and her job is kinda weird. Yes, it appeals to me on so many levels. Eventually, the little girl in the story comes to realize it’s kinda cool to have such an interesting mom, who has her hands in so many … cauldrons. Cute and funny. Not scary, although Mom’s cooking is … adventurous, and Career Day at school has never been so fun.

Two more favorites:

Tasha Tudor’s Pumpkin Moonshine — First copyrighted in 1938, this is a sweet story about a Sylvie Ann who picks a fine pumpkin to make a pumpkin moonshine, but it rolls out of control down the hill! Perhaps this book was Lewis’s inspiration for The Runaway Pumpkin. If you’re fond of books set in “simpler times,” this is a lovely addition to any young child’s library.

Lauren Thompson’s Mouse’s First Halloween — A great first Halloween book for babies and preschoolers. Illustrated by Buket Erdogan, this book explores all kinds of things Mouse thinks are spooky, only to find that they are really “Not so scary after all.” We have the board book edition and it has served us well.

If you have read all this way, you might be asking yourself why we have so many Halloween books. (My husband might be asking that also.) Here’s part of the reason: In our home, after Halloween, the Candy Fairy visits in the night. If we leave out candy for the Candy Fairy to feed to her children, she leaves a little gift in its place.

Happy reading!

There are many, many benefits of preschool. I know not everyone will agree with me about this; some parents just love having their little ones at home until they reach Kindergarten age, and more power to them. But as Ian and I both work, we have almost always needed some day care. Preschool has always brought enriching experiences to our children.

In addition to all the great friendships preschoolers build and socialization they acquire by being with small groups of children for some portion of their week, preschool also offers us parents a new perspective on our kids. You know how sometimes it’s hard to see something that you’re around day after day? Well, sometimes it’s hard to notice when kids are ready for something new, something more challenging. Over the years, our kids’ teachers have gently pointed out to us many important growth spurts we might not otherwise have noticed, for example, “Your child is so cooperative when it’s time to clean up the toys.” Really? Sometimes our sons tell us themselves that they’ve grown up a bit more, thanks to the influence of their teachers: “Lucas, it’s not polite to have your elbows on the table.” Manners 102.

The other day I picked up Asher from preschool and saw him swinging on the tree swing in the yard. Imagine that! I had no idea he was ready for the big-boy swing yet because I had stopped noticing the baby swing on our backyard swing set. I didn’t notice him not fitting in it so well anymore. I didn’t notice that he had stopped asking to be pushed on the swing.

Perspective. I got to see Asher in a new light away from home, to see that he can do something altogether new and with gusto.

So we took down the baby swing and put up a low-to-the ground big-boy swing. Wow.

My baby left this morning wearing Ian’s 20-year-old backpack covered in European country patches. It was stuffed with his gear and bigger than him.

“I feel like the tortoise who won the race. No wonder he went slowly!” Lucas said, staggering under its weight.

He’s off with his third-grade class for a first-ever overnight camping trip. They are going to Full Belly Farm, an organic farm in Capay (which must be really close to the farm we went to last weekend). The whole class will be sleeping in tents. It’s going to be awesome.

I am so proud of Lucas. Today, I truly feel that the time does fly by. Wasn’t it only a few months ago that I was holding his hand as we marched for the first time into the Kindergarten?

The anticipation of this class trip was hard on him. Lucas was pretty nervous and asked me more than once, “Do I have to go?” He cried and worried. It’s so hard to find the right balance between being compassionate about his emotional turmoil and being encouraging yet firm. No, I’m not going to let him skip this amazing class trip because he’s afraid of it. He is ready, even if he doesn’t know it yet. Does that make me mean? That’s mothering for you—I’m part Mom, part Sensei.

I just kept telling him how much fun he was going to have, how busy he and his classmates would be, and how it’s OK to feel nervous about things. “You’ll be fine! Lots of people will be there to take care of you,” I told him. I also know that Lucas is a wonderful caregiver, and so we role-played how he would act if he found one of his classmates was having a hard time and feeling sad and homesick. He came up with wonderful strategies for making that friend feel better. I think that made him feel empowered and competent.

I made sure Lucas has both phone numbers so he can call home if he needs to. The teachers said that would be fine. We packed a little lavender-scented pillow I made him for Valentine’s Day; something he can sleep with if he’s feeling homesick.

The worry he has been feeling the last couple of days seemed this morning to have been outstripped by his excitement. He happily trudged out the door—no tears, no bargaining, no hesitation. Just an 8 1/2-year-old boy with places to go and friends to meet.

Courage is being afraid and doing the right thing anyway. This trip seems to me to have just the right degree of challenge, the right ratio of fear to reward. And of course, it has everything to do with their third-grade curriculum, studying gardening and grains.

(These are partial-page scans from his Gardening and Grains lesson book. My scanner isn’t big enough to capture the whole page.)

I love this Waldorf curriculum. I love that my son gets to spend a day and a night on a working farm that is using sustainable practices and raising sheep for wool. I love that he knows where his food comes from. I love that part of school for him is fresh air and sunshine, digging in the mud and planting seeds, and swimming in a pond. I love that his physical and spiritual development are carefully considered in addition to his academic aptitude and achievement; that the health and unity of the class as a whole is considered. I love that he is challenged with tasks that are a trifle scary and difficult, and supported while he faces his fears and overcomes obstacles. I feel he is being nourished every day by these qualities and so many more that I can’t even put into words.

I’m just so full of gratitude, and hoping he has a wonderful time.