The Papaya's Piknik

This week's language arts notes suggested that the Papaya start a journal: write an entry completely by himself, rather than dictating to me. I was dubious about how well this would go over, but decided to give it a try. This morning, I handed the Papaya a blank notebook, showed him one of my childhood journals, and told him he could write down anything he wanted in the journal: something that happened to him, a story about somebody else, something he felt, or something he wanted to do or was thinking about. I promised that I wouldn't criticize anything he wrote or make him correct anything. He didn't have to worry about spelling or handwriting.

To my surprise, he took to this assignment with alacrity. "I know what I'm going to write!" he exclaimed. Within minutes, he brought me the notebook and showed me the following journal entry:
I figured it was a long enough entry, considering it was the first attempt of a five year old at journaling, and we moved on with the rest of our language arts and circle time. Papaya Daddy was home for the morning (he's working all night tonight so he got to stay home until 3:45 p.m. today), and while I took a relaxed shower (rare for me on a weekday), I thought about the Papaya's journal entry.

It was beautiful, blue, and still outside. The temperature was in the 50's, but with the bright sun and little wind, it was perfect for hiking. We still had half of the loaf of bread I made Monday afternoon. Papaya Daddy was home and loved getting outside. Why not scrap the rest of the scheduled school morning and go on a picnic? I got dressed and presented my plan, then made the picnic while the others got ready. Forty-five minutes later, we were off, headed for the sandy wash in the desert behind our house.

For the first time ever, we loaded some of our picnic into the Papaya's little backpack and asked him to carry it the whole way. He accepted the challenge with enthusiasm.

Before we know it, he's going to be able to carry significant weight during hikes, and still out-hike us. It seems like such a short time ago we were carrying him in a backpack, and now he's such a boy. All toddler is gone!

We made it to the wash, and spread out our picnic. The sense of being the only ones to occupy such a huge space never ceases to amaze me when we hike around here. We saw no other human beings or animals the entire morning. Such a difference from my childhood in crowded Bangladesh, where such a picnic would have attracted a crowd of hundreds!

The sun was intense enough that we got warm and sleepy. It felt like vacation.

The Portabella tasted sand for the first time, and loved it. She proceeded to shovel large amounts into her mouth until I finally got grossed out enough to stop her (Dr. Daddy insisted it was harmless). Why does she refuse so many solids but voraciously devour something with no nutritional value?

The kids ran around in the sand, drew letters and pictures with sticks, did somersaults, and learned the wheelbarrow walk (walking on their hands while we held their feet). Finally, it was time to pack things up and head for home and naptime.

As we walked back towards the health center and staff housing (our home is among those in the distance), I glanced at the highway and saw a school bus trundling along. Then I watched the Papaya racing ahead and thought that he could be trapped on that bus (or in a classroom) instead of fulfilling his journal wish. And I was glad that we homeschool.

Goodbye!