If you’re anything like me, you’re busy and you see a thing, buy tickets to the thing, and get to the thing and realize you should’ve planned better for the thing. I thought I was doing well by purchasing Early Bird tickets for general admission. Turns out, that’s not all I should’ve done. Here are a few interactive activities that I wish I had known about prior to our visit to the Georgia Aquarium:
NO OUTSIDE FOOD – it’s probably just me. I need to remember this. I carry snacks everywhere. Be prepared to pay a lot of money for an apple.
Dolphin Celebration/ Penguin Encounter/ Sea Otter Encounter/ Sea Lion Encounter -> THESE SELL OUT QUICK – Purchase tickets for these events ONLINE prior to your visit and not the day of, trust me. You don’t want to miss these shows. At least book one, and you’ll see what I mean. There are really really smart animals, dad humor, trainers, and Queen tunes to jam out to. Check the time at the beginning of your aquarium trip to coordinate a time conflict-free experience. All Ages(Ages 15 and under must be accompanied by an adult)
Virtual Reality Experience – this is a motion-based virtual reality ride that takes you on a deep sea quest to retrieve a jewel. You’ll dodge deep see rocks and shark bite attempts. If this is your kid’s thing, it’s worth the $10. It’s maybe 10 minutes long, costs extra (in addition to your ticket), and sometimes the wait for it can be >30 minutes long (so maybe do this when your eyes need a rest). My son requests to do it every visit, so if you think your kid will be attracted to this, plan accordingly. Minimum Age: 7
Waist Deep with the Belugas – Purchase tickets in advance online. Come face to face with beautiful, majestic beluga whales with close oversight of Georgia Aquarium trainers, of course. You’ll get to interact in the water with these gentle giants one-on-one. All ages (Ages 15 and under must be accompanied by an adult)
Toddler Time – Every first Monday of the month from 10:00a to 11:30a you can take your toddlers to the Georgia Aquarium to learn about sea life and how to protect the planet. Your littles also get adults in costume for story time, a craft, and a snack.
Perfect! Snagged a super cute royal blue checkered suspenders and bowtie set on my Target run. Got my boy his requisite extra cute Easter outfit out of the way – you know people love seeing a little boy in a bowtie. I stared at the set proudly – size 5T – I was simultaneously shocked and saddened by the fact that he would probably be all grown out of a lot of this cutesy little boy stuff next year. Time sure is flying by. I wondered how long it would be until he shunned my clothing selections for him. Who cares – I excitedly grabbed the set and then received a call from my mom. Just like every year, she wanted to know what I was doing for Easter Sunday. And then, the follow-up question made my stomach drop. “Will you have Solomon for Easter this year?”
Ack. Aw man, I thought. My mom was confused by my silence, and proceeded to question me, “Hello? Aryeonne. Will you have him?” I answered back the standard answer – I’d have to check the divorce paperwork (even though I knew I had him for Easter last year – ugh). For holidays, my ex-husband and I agreed to take turns – for some holidays I get our son on odd years and on others even years. This is an odd year, and I do not have my kiddo for Easter. Funny thing is I’ve never been big on holidays as an adult. Years ago, when my grandparents passed away (nothing was the same after that) and my holidays became filled with retail working hours, the grandeur of holidays faded away with each late night prepping for major events only to arrive hours later to tend to customers’ holiday “needs.” Holidays just weren’t a big deal anymore…until now.
I got home and checked the paperwork to triple confirm what I already knew to be true. Usually, my son spends most Sundays with me at church or volunteering – it’s our time. I called my son over and told him that his dad would have him for Easter. He was thrilled. I asked him if he was ok attending service with his grandparents on his dad side (he usually opts for my church because of the kids program and shorter service duration). To my surprise, he answered in a way that made me forget he was 5. “I’ll go to church with grammy and grampy. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that.” Ok. This is ultimately what I wanted, right? For him to think for himself and begin making these decisions and to be ok with this “arrangement.” I quickly hid my selfish disappointment and immediately nodded in agreement with him. Truth be told, that was fine – I was not.
Good Friday rolled around and my ex-husband texted me to confirm that kiddo was indeed committed to Easter with him and his family. I told him that he was verbally locked in, and he was looking forward to it. You see, my ex-husband has a huge close-knit family that comes together often to celebrate. My family rarely does this – we love each other, in a long-distance spread out way, I guess. That was one of my favorite things about my former marriage – seeing his family interact and connect so often was wonderful – I admit that there were frequent moments of envy. There were also moments of utter joy knowing that my son would be inserted in these warm gatherings and have such a large community at his disposal. Oh the memories he would have! They played soca music (Trinidadian/Afro-Caribbean music genre), the younger family members joked and bonded, people brought plate after plate of delicious West Indian food, and when I attended, I usually observed (trying not to stare and people interacting) and overly tended to my son to busy myself – 1. because I was not used to being in settings like this & 2. because I have no idea how to play spades.
I may or may not have eaten his candy.
My ex-husband wanted to pick up our kiddo the day before Easter so they could be well rested for early morning Easter service. The day was filled with my son and I chatting, eating, and playing together until it wasn’t. The doorbell rang. “Is that daddy?! Yay yay yay!” Solomon bolted downstairs to put his shoes on. I immediately went upstairs to grab his coat and randomly texted my ex asking if he had proper Easter attire (knowing what the answer would be – I always handled that kind of thing). I texted back that I would send what I bought. My son stood at the bottom of the stairs obediently waiting for me to come down with his things and escort him to open the door. He saw the Easter outfit and hugged it. Now, wait a minute, my child has NEVER been this excited about an outfit. *Ding dong* the doorbell rings again – probably for the fifth time. My son and I both blurt out that we’re coming, and I open the door. My kid runs down the stairs super stoked to see his pops. So bittersweet. My ex reminds him to say goodbye to me (what am I? Chopped liver? – smh). He turns around and I force a smile and we both intuitively throw up the ASL sign for “I love you.”
I close my door and become angry at myself for being so sad. It’s so weird. I know my child loves me. We (the ex and I) worked on getting him to go – without getting upset about leaving mommy. Now, he did it willingly, and now, ironically, I’m upset. I allowed myself to cry. I allowed myself to do nothing for probably an hour. I took some deep breaths and shed a few more tears when clearing the tiny Ikea plate and cup my son left at the kitchen table. Then, I slowly walked over to the television, clicked it on, and switched the Netflix setting from my son’s name to mine. I began to laugh. It felt good to see my name and no cartoons pop up in the recommendations…not sure when I had a chance to freely watch my adult shows without falling asleep. Today’s the day – I click on Grey’s Anatomy. I’m years behind and ready for a good TV binge; I don’t have to wake up early tomorrow anyway – ha! Lastly, I thought to myself, he’s more than OK and I will be too. Time to enjoy MY time.
My kid has not stopped playing with this toy set since I bought them for him when he was 4 (he’s nearly 6 now). I even had to get another set so his creations could become more elaborate. They’re called Picasso Tiles – a version of the original, popular ‘Magnatiles’ that I found when trying to avoid the outrageously priced original. They are sets of brightly colored shapes that connect together using the strength of magnets. I find that the magnetic snap creates an ease that allows my son’s imagination to run wild. He builds car garages for his cars to castles for his Monster Trucks to live in.
Either way, he’s building and learning structural engineering concepts along the way. And, of course, ya gotta throw in a little lesson about triangle names and angles. *Ahem* Anyway, I got mine from Amazon (see below – check out the used options for an even lower price), but they occasionally pop up on Groupon too.
Picasso Tiles come in different quantities and theres also a small Picasso Tile train set that you can snag for $4.99. We ending up purchasing a set of 60 initially and eventually a set of 100 (because he loved them so much and friends could build structures along side him), and my nearly 6 year old son seems to content building his structures with that amount. As stated before, we’ve had the first set for 2 years, and they have been dropped, bent, and stepped on. They are still just as pretty and intact as day 1. Whenever we have visitors, they always comment of my kiddo’s newly constructed colorful creation. It’s his conversation piece to this day.
What kid doesn’t love getting mail. And what parent doesn’t love seeing their kids read and discover. Weeeeellll…I recently found a Groupon special for National Geographic kids that I had to share…because c’mon – animals are cool to learn about. The cool part is that animal facts are typically fun for adults too. I got a year subscription for $9. Here’s the link for the mag (lucky you…use Code: SALE3 for 20% off):
And for me, after buying Nat Geo Kids, I purchased Highlights magazine for $2 more. If you don’t remember seeing this popular magazine at school and at the pediatrician’s office, I’ll jog your memory. Highlights magazine that has been around since 1946, and it’s been around that long for a reason. It’s a teacher favorite that publishes a monthly collection of stories, games, riddles, and experiments that promote reading and creativity. They even have a digital mag for you to sample if you need to see more before you buy:
As parents and adults we have soooo many stressors, and many of us go to unhealthy lengths striving to provide all the best for our kids. That said, we sometimes think to ourselves *hmpff* this child has it made in the shade – I wish I had it this good. Especially those of us who got spankings A.K.A. whoopins (and…that’s putting it nicely). I think we tend to forget that kids, no matter what culture, generation, or decade they were born in encounter large amounts of stress. There’s school stress, the pressure of pleasing us (the parents), there’s a constant learning of new things (small to us, but HUGE to them), and there’s learning to be comfy in their own skin, while dealing with a plethora of new teachers, classmates, and friends. And not to mention the fact they overhear us and the media talking about enormously, inconceivable woes constantly – and they worry. Humans are wired to worry.
We adults usually figure out how to create an outlet – good or bad, productive or not, we figure something out. Our kids can’t do what we do – they don’t have a budget to get a massage, they can’t have a glass of wine, and they can’t really effectively vent or find the words to express that they are stressed. We are our children’s main advocates, so we need take the time to STOP and OBSERVE – look for stress cues in our babies. Here are a few common ones:
Stubborn Behavior (yes, stress manifests into this sometimes)
Every child is different. Those are just a few, but if you notice them. Take the time to get on your child’s level and talk to them. Here are some of the things you can do and say to your child that will promote a healthy cycle of stress management in his/her life:
“It’s okay to ask for a hug anytime you need one.”
“You can do it, but it’s okay to ask for help. We can also do it together or I can guide you through it.”
“Let’s take a break. (actually, STOP, and take a break with them – DEVICE FREE)”
“Sometimes I have a lot of thoughts in my head. It helps to talk about them. I’m here to listen. (then help them map out a plan – we want to encourage kids how to cope and not run away – they can learn to manage loads now, with our help)”
Disclose a hard time that you had (even if it’s a scenario from childhood), and let them know how you felt and how you coped. You’d be surprised at how hearing your story would let them know that they can conquer their problems too!
Don’t yell (be cognizant of the volume and tone of your voice – that could determine how well you are received)
Stay calm
Prayer (talk out their problems – encourage them to be specific)/Meditate/Breathe with them (RE-INSERT DEVICE…use the Breathe App – it’s free!)
Pick a comfy spot, and listen to relaxing music together
Help them create a relaxing scenario to help them escape for a bit…something like: “Imagine with me. Picture yourself on a warm sandy beach or LEGO Land (in my son’s case)”
Get some fresh air and connect with nature, and take a walk – heck, even take a run (my kid loves to race – it’s one of his favorite stress relievers along with a bouncy piggyback ride that promotes giggles)
Acknowledge and reward your child’s healthy coping mechanisms. Dealing with losses and mistakes are just as valuable, if not more than winning the prize.
Don’t let the busyness of doing (providing) for your child prevent you from doing what your child truly needs – make time be present (even if for only 15 minutes) in the moment and look for stressors and try to dig into those to help them sort things out – it will promote trust. We need our kids to know that we care and to trust us. The last thing we want is to let those stressors compound and manifest into undealt with emotions and/or trauma. Start NOW and implement the comforting items listed above and things of the like often. Life is hard, and our kids need us to equip them with the tools to cope. Also, remember that children learn their behaviors from us, so we, too, must remember to practice stress management daily for the betterment of us all.
If you feel that your child is displaying signs that are beyond your reach, please seek help for them. Here are a few starting points:
When you’re pregnant, there’s nothing more exciting than hearing your baby’s heartbeat. I remember hearing my son’s heartbeat for the first time early in pregnancy and thinking, “How’s this possible?!” But, hopefully for some of you it’s more like, “Wow, I’m so grateful this is possible, and I never want to forget this moment.
Once I got over the shock of being pregnant, I wanted to record every moment. During one OB/GYN appointment I remember taking out my phone and recording the sound of my son’s heartbeat, so I could listen to it whenever I wanted. Well, now, there’s a cuter way to capture you unborn baby’s heartbeat. The heartbeat bear records your baby’s heartbeat and stores it for playback (this one is under $20!):
And for those who are like me and become sad at the thought of your child’s super cute voice changing into Barry White Part II, there’s other stuffed animals that have voice recording capabilities. So, you can record your little singing, laughing, and all. These are especially great for close friends and relatives who are far away (shout out to all my military families) and want an extra special gift.
Here are links to more of these fuzzy memory holders:
Tchotchke – an inexpensive souvenir, trinket, or ornament. It’s the Yiddish word for baubles and small trinkets. However, I will use the word “Chatchkies” in this post because it’s my meager attempt at spelling a Yiddish word and I like to make fun of myself. Moving on…
Here is one of my built-in shelves with some of my chachkies.
Please disregard the lack of cable management here. Chachkie placement shown – You get my drift.
I’m no interior designer, but I’ve learned that having cluttered shelves can throw off your entire space. When it comes to design, I’m a minimalist, and as we all know, small children create lots of clutter with all the stuff they “have to have”. So, areas in my home that my child cannot reach are for ME, lol. Sure, you can have a few picture frames (too many look super cluttered), but when that’s all you have on your shelves – your crib could run the risk of looking a bit dated. My shelves hold my beloved chachkies. These chachkies can be pretty, breakable, and almost museum like and survive because they are out of reach. As I was searching for chachkies for my selves, I was surprised at how difficult it was to find them. I finally resorted to Target, online yard sales, Home Depot, and West Elm (sale aisle, of course). I added them to my shelves and stare at them periodically like my own personal museum exhibit pieces.
Baskets
Baskets can be really expensive. If you’re lucky, you can find beautiful baskets on online yard sales and Goodwill. That’s where I found mine. Outside of that, Etsy and Amazon had some nice choices. Please be sure to measure your shelves first, as baskets tend to be rather large.
Pretty, Rustic Boxes
Online yard sales and TJ Maxx are your go-to’s for this aesthetic. I mix metals, but for those of you who are more traditional, choose gold, brass, chrome, and/or silver as part of your color palate. Pretty boxes in large, small, and medium rectangles and squares look beautiful staggered in a cluster together. Pair this look with glass vases (TJ Maxx & Goodwill) and create an elegant presentation. I was lucky enough to find this brass box with a clasp on an online yard sale.
Hour Glasses
My grandmother collected hour glasses (which probably explains my love for chachkies, so these are super special to me. And I also think they’re cool! I found a glass one with magnetic bits inside. It was a steal at under $20 from West Elm.
Pottery
What screams “I’m, like, so cultured” more than a few pieces of sturdy, matte and/or glazed pottery? I found these at Target. These can come in solids or in eclectic tribal prints. Matte textured pottery add nice dimension with metals and patterned items.
Hard-to-Kill House Plants
Tiny plants that are hard to kill are the perfect pop of natural color for a shelf. Make sure you choose a plant that is drought-resistant and doesn’t require sunlight, as it will be forever in the shadow of your shelf giving it life – literally. Some plant recommendations are: snake plants (mother-in-laws tongue), aloe, and rubber plants. I got my tiny snake plant (don’t forget to measure) from Home Depot. Bought my tiny vase from Target.
Unique Bookends
With bookends this cool, who needs book in ’em? J/K go ahead and throw a few 2-3 small (and worn ones actually look cool) in between a set. I found my geode set at Target, and you can find them at TJ Maxx and at times, on sale at West Elm.
Shop Away
I was fortunate enough to partner with Target, so if you’d like to help me with the upkeep of this site and receive more posts, click my affiliate links to find nice stuffs. Get started on your chic chachkie collection with this deal Home Decor deal from Target:
It was May 18, 2013. And hooray! Just one more day until I was in my third trimester. I was nice and ready to coast through the next 12 weeks of pregnancy. I had been taking the hospital-advertised fitness classes, completed the hospital tour, took baby prep courses, and decided to attempt to breastfeed upon delivery with the help of a ready fleet of lactation consultants. Single at the time, I lived alone in my one bedroom apartment. I had yet to have the usual work and family issued baby showers, and for now, my accumulation of stuff was minimal. However, I had already envisioned the placement of new baby furniture that eased my anxieties of an overcrowded space, my new baby, and me.
I was preparing for bed when a huge wave of nausea swept over me. …what? I hadnât felt nausea since my first trimester. I downed some Tums. Then more pain. Pain that forced me to double over. Iâd try to stand, but the pain forced my gaze back to my puffy ankles. Those days, at dayâs end, I retained water in my ankles despite my attempts to avoid sodium. I tried not to panic. Breathe Aryeonne. I held my pregnant belly and while still bent over, waddled to my bed, and tried to lie down. The moment I sat on the bed, I felt dizziness and another wave of nausea. This time the nausea sent me to the toilet. I vomited. Then, I allowed myself to panic and think. Ok. Think. Vomiting is not good this late in the game. I remembered reading that it could be indicative of a serious issue. **SIGH**
My mind jumped back to when I went to the emergency room in the middle of my second trimester for a similar pain. I distinctly remember feeling engulfed in embarrassment when the rushed ER doctor, who hadnât ordered blood work or any other medical service, said: âItâs an extreme case of gas. Welcome to being pregnant.â I was snapped back into reality by the worsening pain and the need to vomit a second time.
At the time, I was not dating my sonâs father. We had broken up. It took EVERYTHING in my being to call him and attempt to explain what was going on. But I did. I told him that vomiting was bad and we needed to get to the ER if to do nothing else but check on the baby. He got there, and I could barely speak or stand up straight because the pain was so intense. He recommended going to the birth hospital especially since the other hospital sent me away with Tums samples. I didnât care where I went at the time because I was hurting so badly.
When I arrived at the hospital, I was whisked off to labor and delivery because they thought I was in labor. I finally gathered the strength to scream: âIâM NOT IN LABOR BUT THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG!â, gasping for air and nearly passing out. I was moved into a room where a nurse began to examine me. . She asked me about the pain, where it was, how it felt, etc. The pain was so widespread across my abdomen that specifics from me werenât happening. The on call doctor finally came in and asked more questions. She said something about my gall bladder and then ordered blood work and an ultrasound. I was feeling faint. I remember a midwife busting through the door in surgery garb all flustered and in tizzy. She looked at me after composing herself and began to explain how I was in great hands with my doctor and this hospital was one of the best hospitals in the country for labor and delivery. She said she was the calm before the storm and that when the doctor arrived everything would go into warp speed. She also let me know that my baby had to be delivered in the next 30 minutes via emergency cesarean section. Then she asked me if I was a Jehovahâs Witness. Extreme fear is ice cold, and its grip is paralyzing. What if I donât wake up? What if I had taken too long and killed the baby somehow? Too much stress. I did too much – school, internships, work – so selfish. Why had I decided to do this alone?
When anesthesiologist arrived, he interrupted my self-loathing and wheeled me to the OR to be prepped for surgery. The on call doctor met us in transit and began to explain that I had HELLP Syndrome (https://rarediseases.info.nih.gov/diseases/8528/hellp-syndrome) – an acute illness that makes eclampsia look fun. She said that my body was rejecting the pregnancy and my body was poisoning itself. My liver was about to rupture and my blood platelet count was in the four-digit thousands. In other words, if I had bled for any reason, I would have bled out in no time.
One of the last things I remember was another nurse joining the fast-paced walk to the OR. She held my hand and looked me in the eyes then nodded to show solidarity. Then, turning her focus back to keep up the pace,I watched her lips mouth the Lordâs Prayer. After that, I remember feeling warmth and watching my eyelids close as a result of the anesthetic.
I woke up. I woke up! Disoriented and numb. Everything was blurry. I was so tired. I woke up in ICU, couldnât gather the strength to ask about my baby, and fell asleep again. I woke up a second time – hours later. So many faces – my family and close friends were all lined up on the wall of the post-ICU room with concerned faces and contorted smiles. I was still groggy, but I had a bit more energy and tried to smile back. The doctor came in and showed me my morphine pump and how to use it. Praise the Lord for morphine. The nurse who was with me initially came with a second nurse to help me sit up. I had machines massaging my legs and saw signs indicating to the nurses that I wasnât allowed to get up. The doctor told me that she was happy that I was awake, but that I had a long journey ahead of me. What I didnât know is that many HELLP Syndrome patients die after giving birth. They die because their bodies have to restart. My body had to restart.
I had hardly any kidney function and I was prone to seizures. My blood pressure was sky high and I had to wait to see what route my body would take to reach equilibrium – some people never do. I was in the hospital for a week. One nurse noticed that my blood oxygen levels had dropped well below normal. Got an x-ray and discovered I had fluid on my lungs, and nurses would come in hourly to hold pillows against my incision to make sure it stayed closed as I was coughing up phlegm until my nose bled. I had nose bleeds easily because my blood still wasnât clotting.
I finally got to see my son on the 3rd day of my hospital stay. I was overjoyed. He was tiny, but I could tell he was strong. He was actually, at the time, in a more stable state than I was. He was off the ventilator after an hour and his brain bleeds from emergency cesarean were resolving. I got back to my room, and my blood pressure was stroke level – even on all 3 blood pressure medications. The nurses and my family played soft music for me and continuously told me to relax – as in try not to be excited or worry about anything – the irony.
After a couple more miserable days, my birthday came and my grad school cohort sent me an Edible Arrangement. I must have looked like death, because the delivery guy said, âhappy birthday – um, everything is going to be ok.â and scurried off. The next day, I felt strength for the first time. The lactation consultant came in with a hospital grade pump, and one of my best friends came and coached me through my first pumps of golden beta-carotene rich colostrum (co·los·trum/kÉËlĂ€strÉm – the first secretion from the mammary glands after giving birth, rich in antibodies). My bestie and I smiled at each other, and the nurse was thrilled, and quickly took it to give to my son. He had been on donor breast milk since birth and would be until I got the hang of pumping.
The next day (around day 6) a random nurse came into the room and asked if she could hug me. I let her, and she explained that she almost didnât recognize me, and that she was happy that I survived. She explained that my eyes were yellow and I had no color in my face. That really hit home. The next few days would be visits to see my son and finding the right medicines for me to take until I was completely well. Getting better would take months, and getting back to myself would take even longer. Nonetheless, I was discharged from the hospital and went home for the first time in 7 days. My days away from the hospital would be few for quite a while, as Iâd need to come back frequently in the next 3 months to visit my son in the NICU. I also was lucky enough to find a HELLP Syndrome support group, and that lifted some of the guilt somehow.
There is still much unknown about HELLP Syndrome. Researchers are still gathering data about the short term and long term effects. After my hospital stay, I noticed my vision was way worse, I still retained water, and any little stressor caused a headache. Eventually, Iâd say over a year later, these things began to subside. No one knows why I fell prey to it after many weeks of clean bills of health from my then OB/GYN (As soon as I was able, I switched to the on call OB/GYN). All I know is that Iâm glad that I didnât ignore my symptoms and I gathered the courage to speak up. I later learned that if I hadâve ignored the pain and forced myself to sleep, my baby and I wouldnât be here today.
Listen to your body and be adamant and insistent about your health, sis. If they donât listen, get a second opinion. See below for traumatic birth support group info:
Itâs been 11 years since I studied abroad at the University of Valencia in Spain, but since then Iâve been meaning to write about it cuz boy, was it was somthinâ. I regret not writing about it sooner. Here goes.
So there I was, trying to secure my second undergraduate degree, this time for Spanish for International Business. This was a part of my self-discovery journey that just so happened to coincide with a portion of my best friendâs Valencia trip to visit her husbandâs family. PERFECT! Or so I thought… I was not seeing the full picture because she would be there for just a couple of weekends. I, on the other hand, would be there for the rest of the summer.
Georgia State University has a Study Abroad Office that has minority scholarships to encourage diversity in their study abroad program enrollment. Not many black folks did so at the time – especially not black American students. Free money to travel? Ok. I was in.
I wasnât exactly rolling in the dough at the time. I had a little in savings, and I was taking sabbatical from my job – which meant a lot of free time that came with no paychecks. Oh well, I thought to myself, this opportunity has my name written all over it, so it has to work out. And on top of that, someone I knew offered me a GREAT deal on a buddy pass. That sealed the deal. Que viva Espana – this black girl was going to Spain!
I’m pictured here on my first day in Valencia – exploring with new friends.
I was one of the first in my group to arrive to the Madrid airport. Iâll never forget. So accustomed to the air conditioned airports of the US, I inhaled warm stale air that smelled of people and food. I was there super early because there were plenty of seats available for flights departing for Spain because of the huge US airport market. This was unlike Spain where droves of people exited the country in the summers and flights were often overbooked. Anywho, I was in Madrid and I immediately felt the weight of being a foreigner. Cool. I waited for 4 hours in baggage claim until I saw a short gentleman with a sign that read ISA (International Studies Abroad), the name of my study abroad company. I greeted him in English, and he responded in Spanish and let me know that my English needed to stay in the airport. Slowly, new faces accumulated around me. Kids from all over the United States. No one from Georgia. Also, I was beginning to notice that no one was black, which was nothing new for me.
However, the Madrid airport was peppered with voices speaking in various languages and all kinds of skin tones and hair types. After everyone arrived, the ISA leader took us to a chartered bus. YAS! I remember thinking: This is the life. The study abroad repâs call to us was âWakey Wakey, Eggs and Bakeyâ even when it wasnât morning. It was to get our attention. He explained that we would stay in Madrid for just the next day to see the Prado, and after that we’d hop back on the bus for a 4 hour long trek en route to Valencia. He said that not many spoke English and that we should follow suit. **To be continued…
Yep. Do it. Start now. Iâm a big proponent of introducing complex concepts to children early – in a fun way. When Solomon was little we used to watch education YouTube vids and happened upon this:
He LOVED it! Itâs so catchy, and he requested to hear it at least once a day – over and over. And who was I to say no, lol. As he babbled what he didnât realize was literally the building blocks of all the things and would eventually be on all his Chemistry exams, I formed a lesson plan around it. I let him listen to it every day (he still does). Then, I began introducing a few of them by associating them with stuff he used/saw every day. e.g. Oxygen (air we breathe), Fluorine (for our pretty teeth – toothpaste)
He naturally began to pick ones he was interested in on his own. Nerd seed planted :).
Check these out too:
Periodic Table Meal Placemat (can be used as a poster too!):
Educational stuff laying around frequent use spaces promotes learning – chew and read kiddos!
