Subject 2/Stage 2: One to Four Months

Wailing Through Stage 2: Everybody Is!

subject two is not subject one. subject two is not subject one. subject two is not subject one. subject two is not subject one.

See, things are different this time. As I suspected, The original Experimental Infant was, well, the easy one.

What's up with that? How many times have I heard this story. It's the one that goes "If I'd had my second child first, I might only have had one." Has anyone out there reading ever said this? Are second babies really, categorically pains in the ass? Or is there something more sensible at work here, like my being too busy to be as tuned in to him as I was to my first, only infant. I mean, I dimly remember certain evening bouts of crying with Nuvy, but nothing, NOTHING like what goes on with Van. From about week 3 to 9 weeks or so, he's been pretty much crying every minute he's been awake. Well, ok. Many, many waking moments are devoted to crying. Some others are devoted to looking astonishingly cute (let it be said that, after Nuvy, I thought I was no longer astonishable by cuteness. Was I ever wrong.). The moment pictured above was devoted to wavering on the edge of sleep. We have several of those a day, too. But anyway, so he cries a lot. In the meantime, lets discuss Stage 2--since I didn't the first time around. For those who are counting, Stage 2 is the period between one month and four months of age.

Practice makes...myelinated pathways make...muscle memory!
So, in addition to various levels of fussiness, Stage 2 is all about practice. Van spent his first four weeks mastering his basic body functions, and now, in Stage 2, he's beginning to experiment with motor control, and to make his first observations of the world that exists outside him. What he learns will begin to suppress his infantile reflexes during this stage, and they will continue to disappear in a pretty predictable pattern throughout his infancy. Neat, eh?

The chief result of Van's experiments will be a kind of preliminary organization of the brain through myelination in the cerebral cortex--that is, the thinking part of his brain. Myelin is an insulating material that brain cells put down around electrical connections that get repeated often (successful experiments and purposeful activity), and not so much around connections that are only made once, or just a few times (random activity or failed experiments). The point is to keep the signals flowing in useful directions, and not to have neurons firing randomly all over the place, looking for something good to do. This has already happened, to some extent, in the deeper, more basic levels of the brain, but now begins in earnest in response to the baby's repetitive experiments. Patterns of movement (schemata) evolve as the baby devises ways to accomplish the things he wants to do.

Myelination is a recurring theme in discussions of brain development. It's an important manifestation of learning and memory. "Muscle memory" is what Van is beginning to develop at this stage, through repetitive practice. Right now, he's learning to smile, laugh, and reach for things. Later, he'll learn to walk, run, make the sounds of his native language (in the Philadelphia accent he'll grow up with, alas, and not my own charming southern drawl.) and maybe play the piano, or play golf. Practice affects the brain this way throughout life.

Developing just after the parts of the brain that control vital functions and reflexes are the parts that control the senses. At birth, Van had all the equipment he needed to see, hear, touch, taste, and smell, but he had to wait for the areas of his brain that interpret sensory signals to develop to make sense of the signals it receives.

Let's look at some of the things Van's been practicing:

Resisting gravity: at between one and four months, babies discover that, with effort, they can lift their little heads and achieve a different view of things.

Swipe and grasp: the palmar reflex (the one that makes your newborn grab hold of your finger and not let go) is strong at birth, but a one-to-four month old baby learns that by controlling the opening and closing motion of the hand voluntarily, he can manipulate his environment. Right now, for Van, this involves looking at his hands a lot. I imagine that if he could talk, he might say, "Look at this! Don't tell anyone, but I think I can control it with my mind!"

Holding objects and bringing objects to the mouth: We're not there yet, but these are variations on the hand-mind coordination theme.

Cognitive, Emotional and Social development: A whole lot of goo-goo going on.

It starts with the hand-gazing, and then looking at other things in the environment that move, deciding which ones he can control, and which ones move independently of him. Kind of like a life-size game of Myst, isn't it? This looks to an observer like staring, gazing, or tracking objects with the eyes. If an object disappears from the baby's field of vision, he'll fix his eyes on the spot where he last saw it.

Gurgling and cooing, raspberries, and other vocalizations mark his earliest attempts at verbal communication. The Montessori folks tell us to talk to the baby in a normal, conversational tone, and to do it all the time.

Mercifully for those of us with crybabies, self-soothing behaviors begin to emerge during this stage. We're still waiting for Van to get hold of his thumb. So far, he's sucking his fist. Right direction, but not quite satisfying for him.

The supportive environment: baby zen.
The baby's curiosity is evident, and needs support without overstimulation with too many choices. A few simple grasping objects placed at the edges of the baby's reach are developmentally appropriate. I use a cotton bandanna, a little rattle, and a toy bird (he digs the cardinal). All this practicing requires space and time for self-induced motor activity. In other words, floor time. He has to get out of that carrier and kick and stretch it all out.

Montessori infant gurus warn that we'll be tempted to "entertain" the baby with a lot of toys, baby talk and other kinds of performance, and they urge us to resist this as far as we can. Give the baby time to really explore simple objects. Let him hear and participate (as far as he is able) in normal conversational speech, and take time to make a safe space for him where he needn't be restrained by a carrier or other apparatus. We're waiting and watching, as he tries to communicate with us.

The Praise and Punishment Game Part 1: Praise

The Montessori Dictates Against Praise and Rewards vs. Getting the Little Buggers to Do What You Say.

Yes, believers, it's true that my gurus are opposed to praise and rewards, though the jury is still out on what constitutes punishment. However, their only real beef is with the praise part, because life provides its own rewards and punishments. Here, let me explain as best I can. Please pipe up in the comments if I miss anything, all you Montessorians out there. Thanks, NOLA mom, for asking one of my favorite questions. Now I know how Judith Martin felt the time a Miss Manners reader asked her to explain how to send secret messages with calling cards.

A big part of the Montessori philosophy is that, if you work to please yourself, success is its own reward. This is the core belief behind all the self-correcting activities, aids to independence, freedom to choose your own work, and community-building care-of-environment (by "environment" we mean dusting and polishing as much as we mean composting) activities. According to the gurus, praise from adults works against independence. It sounds like a tough quandary, but actually, it just takes a few small changes of habit--often only habits of speech--to turn the focus of success away from the adult and back to the child.

A little child is working to perfect herself--that is to be a successful member of her society--and so naturally seeks approval from adults, whom she perceives (on some level) as having accomplished this goal. Simply put, the child is hard-wired to try to be like the adults she sees around her. There are several ways in which adults can indicate acceptance and approval of the child's efforts. One way is applause and verbal praise, and another is respectful acceptance and a normal, courteous reply.

It's easy to see why adults want to applaud and praise children. After all, we are already (for the most part) accepted as worthwhile members of our society. To feel that our efforts have been recognized, adults look for accolades. Accolades help us believe that what we have done is a little bit better than expected, or than what everyone else did. It makes us feel special. As we have all experienced, this is a double-edged blade, no?

Praise is certainly an expeditious way of getting a person to do what you ask/want them to do. However, some inherent pitfalls of praise-driven obedience are: what happens when no one is there to praise the child? Will she still behave? Will the child be able to maintain good habits when those habits don't feel special? What happens when the child becomes an adolescent and is no longer willing to work for the praise of parents and teachers, but in an effort to carve out her own identity, is pointedly indifferent to such praise? The list goes on.

The (arguable) premise is that a little child does not need to be made to feel special, but to feel welcome and appreciated. Children, of course, enjoy applause and praise, and will work very hard for even the simplest reward. Ask any elementary school teacherwhat a child won't do for a sticker by his name. Children, just like the rest of us, learn through our praise/reward system that "special" is king. They develop an appetite for praise and applause, and can begin to feel that efforts that are not applauded are not worth making. Ever feel like that? Right. We could, and many Montessori types have, follow this thread to the root of a litany of common social pathologies and self-esteem issues.

The fact is, everyone can do special things, but much of life is not particularly laudable. Most of what we do is not special, but habitual. Montessorians strive to lend integrity to a child's habits and to make him feel successful even when he is not feeling particularly special. What we hope is that this helps the child maintain his personal integrity even when nobody is looking.

Everyone wants to feel successful, but perhaps that feeling can be had without anyone else's approval. By shifting the "reward" back onto the child, we have a way around the applause cycle, and can allow the child to experience her own success, instead of developing a need for adult-driven incentives to succeed. One can achieve this without a lot of stilted "how does that make you feel" language. Saying "thank you" instead of "good job" is a subtle language change, but it effectively shifts focus away from the act itself, and the adult's judgment of it, and back to the value of the child herself. After all, it's not the work, but the child that needs appreciating. You could also try "You must be so proud!" instead of "I'm so proud of you!" You can do this little trick with any number of praise-y phrases.

What's a little harder (at least in my family) is to back away from "Hooray for You!" and thunderous applause whenever the child does something cute or clever. A great performance ought to be applauded, it's true, and I encourage outrageous whistling and applause following living-room concerts, but life doesn't have to be a performance to be good. Sharing a child's satisfaction might mean meeting his success with a hug, a smile, and a "Look at that! You did it! Aren't you happy about that?" They light up just as much for that one as for a big round of "YAY!" I swear.

Subject Two: The Young Dude

Look at him! Isn't he sweet? Subject two, "Van" to his friends.

This is Van's birth story. It' couldn't be more different from Nuvy's if it tried (see the Obligatory Montessori Birth Story at the very beginning of this blog)

Van, like his sister, gave us a completely uneventful pregnancy, except that it was a little longer than usual (10 days late the first, 9 days the second). Unlike his sister, he then decided to scare the bejeesus out of everyone on his way out.

We are 0 for 2 for birth center births. We were transferred from the birth center to the hospital with Nuvy, after a very long and dysfunctional labor, but decided to try again for the home-y, jacuzzi-equipped, birth center birth of my dreams with baby #2. I had all my prenatal care with the wonderful, WONDERFUL midwives at The Birth Center in Bryn Mawr, PA. Without exception, they rock. Julia, one of my rockin' midwives, delivered Van at Bryn Mawr Hospital, but that's getting ahead of myself.

At 7 days past due, Van got an A+ on his "non-stress test", which is a physiological assessment based on fetal heart rate and movement to determine whether or not the uterine apartment is still up to code. No problem, so no eviction.

Day 9 started busy. Nuvy was scheduled to spend the afernoon with her Baba--my mother-in-law--who was and is my local lifeline when this mommy thing gets hairy (as it does when you're well past due with a busy toddler under foot) so our usual routine was a little accelerated to get ready for the special outing. It was only after Nuvy left that I noticed a weird silence in me belly, and it hit me that I hadn't felt a single squirm or kick all day. I immediately gorged myself on high-octane Indian restaurant leftovers and lay down on my left side (I'm an avid reader of alarmist prenatal literature, so I knew just what to do).

I waited almost two hours.

Nothing. I called.

As I drove myself to the birth center, my mental tire swing oscillated between feeling like an overwrought jackass for asking to make an unsceduled and probably unnecessary prenatal visit in a very busy practice, and wondering what I would say to all the people who kept asking if I'd had "that baby yet", when it turned out that there wasn't going to be any baby after all.

Unable to contain myself, I called my poor husband to share my terror, and told him through my sobs that I was terrified, and that there was nothing he could do. Nice, huh?

When I got to the birth center, it appeared that there was a third possibility I hadn't thought of. They put me in a chair, strapped me to a monitor, and after a couple of minutes of less-than-70 bpm fetal heart rate, the nurse calmly handed me a pillow and told me to get down on my elbows and knees, and someone would get my husband on the phone and get me a car to the hospital.

The birth center office manager drove me to Bryn Mawr hospital, about a 500 foot drive, where I was taken to labor and delivery, gowned, strapped, and IV'd, and it was determined that the baby was happy (heart rate wise) only if I lay on my left side. I still hadn't felt any movement at all, but I took the bouncing green line on the monitor at face value--since that was the best news I'd had all day.

At this point I was not in labor, but was having the kind of piddly little contractions a person (at least this person) tends to have for several weeks before any baby gets around to being born. The midwives and labor nurses discussed various possibilities regarding induction, caesarean, and such, and a doctor whose face and name I still can't remember--it was the first and last time I ever saw the guy--came in and shook my hand and assured me that I would not leave the hospital without a baby. I called my mother, my doula and my husband. The nurse set me up with a potty chair, and told me not to go anywhere. Everyone then promptly left, and I lay there, on my left side, recalling my first (three day) labor and wondering how long my left hip and shoulder were going to hold out.

Incredibly, I started having real, live, serious contractions. Right then. Julia says I willed myself into labor, but I still say it was Van who said, "get me the hell out of here!", and my body complied. My doula called back to say she was in traffic and would be there when she could, my husband called to ask me what he should take to his mother's for Nuvy. I think I said the word "pyjamas" and that this was going to have to be my last phone call, because I didn't think I could talk anymore. He asked some more questions I only half heard. I hung up the phone, since I couldn't think or speak anymore. I think maybe half an hour had gone by since the first real contraction. I labored alone, on my left side, thinking that this was not AT ALL what I had in mind, for what didn't seem like nearly time enough to get the job done.

After a little more than two hours of labor, Van was born. Kent was there for about twenty minutes at the end. Wendy, my doula, was there for the last two of the four pushes it took to get him out. And now, we learned what all the silence had been about:

the knot.

Yes, there was actually a knot in his umbilical cord. See how dark it is above the knot, and how pale below? EEK! Several of the childbirth professionals present had never seen one before. The midwife said she'd seen one or two--ever. But for all that apparent lack of blood flow (which must have tightened up at the VERY end, or ... I can't even think of it), he seemed the picture of health.

To make a too-long story short, he is the picture of health, but there were some complications. In the end, after a five day stay in the NICU and a couple of brain imaging scans, he was pronounced normal-looking and sent home with the same lifetime guarantee everybody else gets.

None.

The Stage 6 Montessori Environment

Jack-O-Lantern Days for the Stage 6 Pumpkin

As those who have almost-two toddlers can attest, the Stage 6 emergent big-kid has a sometimes-maddening taste for making changes. She can make a big plate into lots of little plate bits, or a tastefully fresh-painted wall in a flat (and highly un-scrubbable) shade of barely-there slate grey into a Timothy Leary nightmare in crayon. What follows is the Stage 6 developmental snapshot and environmental supports according to my own Montessori gurus.

As always, I look forward to hearing the opinions of differing gurus, or the disciples of differing gurus, as it lightens the tedium of all these rules. At the time of writing, I have been recently delivered of Subject Two, my second child (three weeks ago) which is a story in itself--but more on that later. on to the Experimental Toddler's raucous romp through Stage 6.

Stage 6 Neurological and Physical Development

At eighteen to twenty-four months, the brain is twice its size at birth. The specialized functional areas of the cerebral cortex are established, and cross-patterning and hand/foot/eye dominance are usually expressed. The Stage 6 child is now capable of carrying out experiments entirely in his head. He is able to imagine an activity and decide its likely outcome without actually carrying it out. As you can imagine, this increases his processing speed tremendously.

He has twenty teeth. The bones are hardening and the fontanelles (soft places on the head) close. Just in time, too, to protect him in his now well-developed mobility. This child can walk steadily, run, hop on one foot, and climb stairs with alternating feet.

Hand-eye coordination is quite good now, and the child can begin to regulate the force of his movements. He can begin to manipulate small or fragile objects, including turning the pages of a book or using a spoon.

He can eat independently, and should practice that independence. He is aware of his body functions, though control of the elimination-regulating muscles may not be fully developed. In some cases, he may begin to express interest in toileting.

Cognitive Development

An eighteen to twenty-four month old child is capable of deductive reasoning. She can examine strategies intellectually, without the necessity of trying each one. Experience and memory—from all her practice with trial and error in the past six months—can be called upon to help with decision making.

She has a strong sense of object permanence, and looks for objects that have been put away, even if some time has passed since she last saw or used the object. She is capable of thinking in symbolic terms, equating a representation of an object with the object itself in processing strategies.

Relating to the developing capacity for symbolic imagination is the development of ludic play—imagining herself in another social role. For example, she may pretend to cook, care for dolls as if they were babies, write letters, use a computer keyboard, or any other “real” aspect of life that she sees as part of an adult role.

Her ability to remember things, symbols, people and conversations is expanding. She will remember the things you tell her now, and hold you accountable for them later.

Emotional and Social Development

A child of eighteen to twenty-four months has a well established sense of self, and an investment in protect that self. He begins to feel fear. He may be afraid of disappearing, of the dark, of loud noises. Related to self-preservation is a strong separation anxiety with regard to significant adults. He remembers dreams and talks about them.

He is beginning to be aware of how he is perceived by others. Emotionally, he feels trust and mistrust, anger, and embarrassment. He understands rules, but will test their rigidity. His play contains elements of abstraction of roles. In play he is not “Daddy” but “the daddy”. He can wait his turn at play.

At this time there is an explosion in language. His expressions change from gestures and nouns to sentences. He learns “I do, I want, I will”. He continues to show interest in the names of things, and begins to make up his own names.

Stage 6 Environmental Supports

Puppets, Dolls and Pets: A toddler approaching two years of age begins to be aware of her role in the family, and to compare it to the roles of other members. She imagines herself in different roles, especially nurturing or caretaking roles. The environment should support these sensitivities by providing opportunities to explore role playing. Puppets and dolls help to create imaginary scenarios and the child can gain experience in nurturing and gentleness from helping to care for a pet. (A baby brother is sort of like the ultimate pet. More on that later.)

Child-size Household Tools: child-size versions of practical tools encourage ludic play. We are talking about kitchen sets, little mops and brooms (Michael Olaf has a great miniature carpet sweeper that is actually useful, in a toddler kind of way), and the old dishwashing station. Nuvy's fancy-schmancy dishwashing station is on her list for Santa, at which time she'll be a week shy of two years old. If you're brave enough to hand this over to an eighteen-month-old (and I know some who are!!) please let me know how that works out for you. We have enough water hazards around with handwashing and sponge-transferring! You can get the officially-sanctioned one from www.michaelolaf.com or www.lordequip.com, or you could have your carpenter (or handy self/husband) copy it and buy your own dish tubs at Target for significantly less.

Transferring Activities: Fine motor control is sufficiently developed that the child can benefit from transferring activities such as pouring water, and spooning sand or beans (watch those beans-in-the-nose, and stay away from Red-Hots!). You can provide these in a structured way, or you could sit back and watch as your child develops her own transferring activities. Of particular interest to Nuvy have been such activities as transferring cheerios from the bowl to her placemat, transferring pieces of pasta or small bites of sandwiches from her plate to her glass full of milk, and transferring her water or milk from her glass to mine, and back to hers again, or from her glass onto the table or floor, if no second vessel is available.

In setting up formal transferring activities, the orthodox way is to present the activity with the full vessel on the left, and the empty one on the right. This way the child moves matter left to right, reinforcing the left-to-right orientation of written material.

Table Setting: One-to-one correspondence continues to be of interest in Stage 6, and the child can handle more involved tasks in this area, such as setting a table for four, or placing many objects in compartments.

Squishy, Goopy, Messy Activities: The Stage 6 child continues to be fascinated by transformation, so that crushing, dough rolling and artistic activities such as water painting or fingerpainting hold his attention.

Manipulatives: His ability to mentally experiment allows the development of spatial reasoning. Manipulatives and simple puzzles support this development. This is a wonderful time to introduce board books and picture books both to read to him and for him to enjoy on his own by flipping pages and naming the objects in the pictures.

Handwashing For Toddlers

Waterplay On A Mission: Handwashing for Toddlers.

As all you Montessori kids know, washing things is a big part of the Montessori life. Practical life includes "Care of Self" which is basically grooming, the central activity of which is handwashing; "Care of the Environment" which, while sometimes ecology-oriented, usually means washing things and tidying up after yourself; and "Grace and Courtesy" which involves the development of other-regarding habits, otherwise known as good manners, only with philosophy attached. Other-regarding-ness comes back around to hygeine and tidiness, and so there you are at handwashing again. See?

Hence we introduce handwashing as an activity (not just a means to an end) early on. Young infants get a quick wipe from an adult before and after meals and after diapering, but the toddler activity is a big step. When first introduced, handwashing is an annoyingly attractive activity, by which I mean that it's hard to get the child to do anything else besides splash in the water and make a sodden mess of everything nearby.

For this reason, I have seen it omitted from many infant communities (Come on, you know who you are!), and underutilized in many primary communities. Just for fun, Montessori parents, sneak a peek at your child's classroom handwashing station. Check it for dust. If you find it's not being used much, it's because while it's a really great practical life activity, many teachers consider it a colossal pain in the ass. It was always a challenge for me to encourage teachers to use it.

To set up toddler handwashing at home, I give the materials list and "simplified" handwashing procedure below.

Parents of older kids: If you have a child in a Primary Montessori class (ages 3-6), I recommend checking with your primary teacher to get her exact handwashing procedure before setting it up at home. Lessons vary in detail from place to place, and the primary handwashing ("involved" handwashing) has a very specific choreography. If your Montessori teacher is using it, she will appreciate your getting it right.

Materials for handwashing: You can order handwashing stations all set up and coordinated from Michael Olaf or other Montessori sites, but I consider this a silly expense for a home setup. I feel a little differently about dishwashing, but we'll get to that.

1. a low table or washstand. I am using my abandoned weaning table (see "Weenie Whiny, Whoa!)

2. a wide, shallow bowl. Mine is enameled, but you could use plastic or ceramic, depending on your tolerance for replacing broken pottery.

3. a small pitcher, manageable by the child, and with a capacity that will give you an inch or two of water in the bottom of your bowl with only one pour. Same considerations about materials as the bowl.

4. a small piece of soap. I like Burt's Bees baby shampoo bar, because it's solid, non-toxic and doesn't sting if it gets in the eyes. You could also use those little flower-shaped guest soaps, or whatever. just make sure the piece is small, so your child can manage it easily. I do not recommend liquid soap for this activity. I'm sure I don't need to explain.

5. a hand towel on a bar, or two baskets and a couple of hand towels. I find the towel bar more convenient for just our family. I have the station set up next to the dishwasher, which has a little towel bar that is at a good height. If you don't have anything readily available, you could install a bar at your child's height, or use the two-basket method. The first basket is for clean towels, the second is for used ones.

6. A little sponge. Probably half of a kitchen sponge will be adequate. A whole sponge is too big, but you will need enough sponge to sop up some water.

7. A bucket with a handle. This is a running theme in Montessori water activities. It is the "slop" bucket. Children learn early in Montessori school that clean water comes from pitchers, and dirty water is carried in buckets. Yes, it is a job to keep a toddler out of the slop bucket. Just empty it every time they use it.

Montessori teachers will carefully color-coordinate all the elements of the handwashing station, and other stations in their classrooms. In addition to eye-pleasing, this is so that it is easy for a child (or teaching assistant) who is tidying up an activity station to see what goes with what. My handwashing station is made up of cute little things I have on hand, and is not particularly matchy.

I admit that for my own toddler (Nuvy is 17 months old), who has just been introduced to handwashing, I keep the station "dry", that is, with the pitcher empty, and I don't have a water source within her reach. She brings me the pitcher if she wants to wash her hands (saying "hands? hands?"), and I fill it for her and supervise the activity closely. Orthodoxy suggests having a water source (like a drink cooler) within the child's reach, but I am just not ready for that kind of insanity yet. Maybe when we get to dishwashing.

You set it up like this:

Starting at the left, place the pitcher, then bowl, then soap, then sponge on the table. Hang the towel above the table, and slightly to the right. Place the bucket on the floor to the right of the table. (If you are using baskets of towels, place them under the table, basket for clean ones on the left, for used ones on the right). This way, the whole activity moves from left to right (an early preparation for reading, I'm told).

Here's the "simplified handwashing" procedure:

Invite the child to wash her hands. Then demonstrate how it is done.

1. Remove the pitcher from the left side of the bowl. Fill it with water.

2. Pour the water into the bowl. Place the pitcher to the right of the bowl. (If there is room on your table, great. If not, I have seen many people just replace the pitcher in its original place. This kind of thing is a typical point of hot debate among the Montessori gurus I know. Personally, I like to move the pitcher to the right. The reason is below.)

3. Dip your hands in the water, deliberately, and only once. Take the soap. Give it three strokes across your hand (count them aloud) and put it back in its place.

4. Rub your hands together to make a lather however you want (Again, Primary handwashing will choreograph the lathering, but for toddlers, we try to respect their limited patience.)

5. Dip your hands in the water again to rinse. Dip them three times. You can count them aloud, or you can flip your hands over for the second dip ("front, back, front").

6. Take them out, fingers pointing down (so that the water drips away from your sleeves). Dry them on the towel. If you are using towel baskets, put the used towel in the right-side basket.

7. Pour the used water into the bucket, then replace the bowl where it was.

8. Use the sponge to wipe off the table, bowl, and pitcher. After you wipe the pitcher, replace it on the left side of the bowl. (So, placing it at the right side is a visual reminder to clean up the handwashing station. Right?). Replace the sponge, and you're done.

The Words: Montessori teachers usually have words to go with each lesson, but I am not giving you any. You know how to talk to your kid. I would only suggest that fewer words are better than more, because they'll stick out better, and the child will learn them easily. Please do use complete sentences, though. For example:

No: "Wet." "Rub." "Dry." "Wipe"

Yes: "I wet my hands." " Here is the soap." "Now I will rinse." "Now I clean up."

No: "Ok, Sweetie, let's wash our hands now. Are you ready? Ok. Now put your hands in the water like this. Goood! Ok, ok, ok. Now here, here, take the soap--- right! No, like this. Now rubrubrubrubrub, and rinse, and rinse and rinse. Great! Now it's time to dry..."

So, I have got to be kidding, right?

No, I am not kidding. Older toddlers can do this pretty easily after a few tries. Little ones, like mine, should not do this activity over, say, hardwood floors, but perhaps over a shower curtain on the floor. Actually, a big towel under the whole thing will help with the watery mess that an 18 month-old will not have the patience to clean up.

If the child takes off in the middle of the activity, it's ok. Just let it go and clean it up, then do it again another time. I really don't suggest that you try this at a time when your child actually NEEDS to wash her hands, for this reason. If you try to keep her there longer than she wants to be there, you kill the joy of the activity. Getting all the way through takes a while.

If the child just wants to pour water between the bucket and the bowl, I would recommend cleaning up the handwashing and putting out another activity for pouring water between two vessels. I have two bowls and a towel in my kitchen for just that purpose. It happens to me every time.

Good luck and have fun!

Field Notes from Stage 5

Field Notes From Stage 5: The Rubber-Road Interface at Age 16 Months

This is a post-fragment, but it's come to my attention that my posts are getting pretty sparse, so pardon the abrupt ending, there's more to come.

So, if you had the stomach, you've read the Stage 5 "expected outcomes". If not, you could read them now, by just scrolling down one post (and pinning your eyelids up). All the definitions are there if you need them. Today's post is about our actual experience as compared with the aforementioned expectations. For example, at left we have the Experimental Toddler in her garden, making cross-patterned mincemeat of an innocent stick.

At 16 months, we're squarely in the middle of Stage 5, so it stands to reason that some of the expected behaviors will be evident now, and some not just yet. Here's what we've seen so far:

Hand dominance: She appears to be weakly right-handed. She tends to pick up tools (like a spoon or a crayon) with the right hand, though she will switch if it's convenient. When feeding herself, for example, she reaches for the spoon with the right hand, but will just hold it in her right while shoveling oatmeal into her mouth with the left hand. She will grab a blueberry or blackberry with either hand.

Heterolateral movement: She walks pretty evenly, climbs stairs with both feet sometimes, but doesn't yet swing her arms while walking. She either clasps them behind her back (so like the little pacing dictator), pushes them out behind like a superman cape, or tucks them in at the elbows when walking. I think this is part of why she doesn't corner well at high speeds yet. In general, her running is sort of awkward, as are most of her attempts at heterolateral arm movements. The grannies have both noticed a little inward sickle in the left foot (and raised the specter of orthopedic shoes! I almost threw up. I LOVE shoes!) Yeah, even I can see the pigeon toe. We're going to the doctor in a couple of weeks and we'll ask about it.

Cross-patterning: We are definitely seeing her reach across the midline with ease. She opens and closes doors, reaches across her body for things, and works objects with both hands simultaneously with ease. She can shake hands, and can easily switch the hand she is holding mine with when turning around.

Cycles of activity: Her bedtime and waking time are pretty well set, including her early morning transfer to our bed (promptly between 4 and 5am) and while she is still a little flexible about the actual hour of the clock, she does expect to have sleep-eat-play cycles in a predictable order. Breakfast on waking, then play, then nap, then lunch, then play, then snack, then more play, then dinner, then bath, then bed. Deviations are tolerated as long as we are not at home, but the order must be rigidly followed at the house, or mayhem.

Undressing: She takes off socks and shoes readily, a cardigan sweater pretty easily, and raises her arms or legs to help with a shirt or pants. She does not really undress herself head to toe, as I hear some other kids do. She does run from diapers, though.

Walking and carrying things: Yes, this is a favorite activity. She will carry the biggest (a kitchen stool) or heaviest (an old doorknocker in the shape of a dog) thing she can find. It is a source of great pride for her.

Opening and closing things: Yes, yes, yes! What a colossal pain in the ass to have one's purse and wallet opened and unpacked all over the floor four or five times a day. Trash can lids, toothpaste caps, whatever she can get open, it is open, and if there is anything inside, it will be outside. She likes to replace the lids, but can't really manage screw caps or snap-tops, so hardly anything is really ever closed again.

Resisting new barriers: We have experienced this in a rather textbook way. I pictured her howling at the gates in the new house, which she has not. She accepts them as part of the whole new-house package. The predictable problem we have now is with her outdoor environment, which does not yet have all the physical barriers it should have. She is MOST resistant to being told not to go down the sidewalk and into the street, which is clearly wide open to her. I can't really gate the sidewalk, so we'll just have to work it through. I mean, she seems to get it, she's just not really willingly compliant. Is that news to anybody?

Jumping on both feet: Nuvy does not jump. The neighbors have a little exercise trampoline, and their children love to put her on it, but she just kind of bends her knees a little, to feel the bounce. The feet do not leave the ground at all. I will sometimes catch them "bouncing" her up and down by lifting her under the arms, which is not something I would do, but it's pretty funny to watch. She now bends her knees repeatedly on the bed or trampoline and says "Bounce! Bounce! Bounce!" Maybe she's taking a clue from the immortal words of Tom Cruise, If you can't say it, you can't do it.

Catching and throwing: She loves to play ball, and will devise a ball out of anything (used packing tape is a recent favorite). She is better at throwing than catching, as might be anticipated, but is very interested in both.

Leaning forward on tiptoe: We are definitely seeing this, and she has a very cute little "tippy-toe dance" that she does when she's showing off, but which is different from the sort of Devo-Jerk kind of dance she does to music.

Digging and building: I see more digging than building, but not too much of either. She is not crazy about getting dirt on her hands.

Speech: She's pretty verbal, and uses many words appropriately. I hear that early talking runs in the family. She says "bless you" when someone sneezes, "thanks" when she's giving you something (though, oddly not when she receives something), and "Oh, shit!" when she spills a whole glass of milk in her lap (I don't know where she got that...). She uses the milder "oopsie" or "uh-oh" for water spills and other accidents, as well as for deliberate acts of entropy. She can name all her immediate relatives and most anything she eats or wears, and repeats everything she hears. Everything.

Stage 5 Continued

Now Where Were We? Oh Right. Stage 5


Back in January, at the beginning of our adventures in Stage 5, Nuvy was just starting to walk, just starting to say a word or two, and generally behaving as expected for this stage. Then, somebody turned our snow globe upside down (previous post if you're interested in the details...), but now we are beginning to see more clearly again, and are ready to continue describing Stage 5. As ever, if human development bores you silly, just skip to the environmental supports. That's where the "stuff" is.


Note from the mailbag:
I have had a couple of emails asking for books with all this "stages" information in them. If anyone knows of a single source, please post it. I am writing exclusively from class notes and projects, and have not done too much research into the background sources, but it seems that there are lots of different ways to slice this melon, and I'll bet each one has its own library.

I have also had several messages about differences between my panel of gurus and other panels who run other Montessori toddler training programs, and you bet! There are as many disparate ideas on (tummy time, mobiles, mirrors, crying, whatever...) as there are folks who hang out a Montessori training shingle and tell us all THE MONTESSORI LAW. These bother me less and amuse me more, the longer I keep up this project. Anyway, where's the fun in agreeing all the time?


Stage 5 Summary

Stage 5 is defined by my guru panel as the period between 12 and 18 months. Roughly one shoe size, right? The following is a summary of what we expect from the Experimental Toddler at this stage, after that a few environmental additions we've made. Next post, we'll talk a little about what we have actually observed from our E.T. so far.

Neurological and Physical Development
Significant specialization occurs in all areas the brain at Stage 5, and of particular interest is the specialization of the hemispheres (the old "left-brain/right-brain" thing all those Signals t-shirts are always chirping about). This specialization and coordination between hemispheres precipitates:

• evidence of hand-dominance ("lefty" or "righty")
• heterolateral movement--meaning alternating movement evenly on both sides of the body, such as stair-climbing with both legs, swinging arms while walking, and other left/right/left/right activities.
• cross-patterning--or the ability to reach across the center of the body to do something, like shaking hands, opening doors, or grabbing a spoon from the left side of your plate, using your right hand. Follow?

Cycles of activity are getting established, and with this come the old sleeping and eating routines. You might get some speech at this stage, but many times it comes a little later.

New Physical Skills

• undressing--a variably convenient skill for parents.
• walking steadily and carrying objects while walking
• opening and closing things (doors, jars, boxes...)
• resisting any new barriers--such as newly placed baby gates. Stage 5 children abhor any kind of physical restraint, so if it's not too late for you, go ahead and get those baby gates up long before you think you'll need them. A barrier placed before Stage 5 is likely to be viewed as a natural part of the environment (at least for a little while) while one placed during Stage 5 will probably become an object of resistance.
• jumping on both feet
• catching and throwing things
• leaning forward on tiptoe
• digging and building

She is really beginning to use her hands as tools, rather than just for locomotion or gazing, and finds that they are pretty useful for things like feeding herself (food and other things).

Cognitive Development

An interesting cognitive milestone is reached at about this time--the Stage 5 child begins to learn from trial and error, and to alter her strategy to accomplish a goal. If she has a goal, and her current strategy for reaching it isn't working, she'll try it another way. Just a few months ago, she would keep trying the same thing over and over until she either succeeded or abandoned the goal altogether.

She can also go back to an interrupted task--another development that is variably useful for parents--at her next opportunity. Just a little while ago, she would have forgotten all about the interrupted activity and gone on to something else.

Repetition continues to be important, but the sequences become more and more comples, so you see building and stacking. She is gratified by creating tall things or lifting heavy things. She can identify familiar objects and people in a picture, and can categorize based on a simple common feature (e.g. same color, different color).

Emotional and Social Development

The Stage 5 child's interpersonal skills acquire remerkable subtlety. She starts to consciously regulate her emotions, and realizes the influence her behavior has on others--particularly her parents. She can curb her anger if there's positive incentive to do so, tests limits, and enjoys applause. She loves an audience and tries on various roles to see how they feel.

She has a strong sense of self and ownership. She can take turns to some degree, but is a long way yet from sharing. She begins to take an interest in other children, often preferring them to adults.

Speech is emerging, and she will name things and remember their names. She experiments vocally with animal sounds and rhythms. she enjoys rhyming as a linguistic point of interest.

Environmental Supports

Space!: The Stage 5 child is walking now, and so needs plenty of room to explore, both inside and out. If you don't have a big yard, go to parks--with and without play equipment. Free movement outside without play equipment is as valuable as climbing and playing on structures. Just make sure there's plenty of outdoor time that's not stroller time. Inside, move those barriers out a bit if you can, take all the breakables off the second (or third) shelf, and let her roam as much as possible.

Language: Naming, naming naming. Collections of things to name are great for this stage. The classic ones are farm animals, fruits and vegetables and the like, but you will find all kinds of things out there. Tools, articles of clothing (doll clothes are good), whatever you can think of.

Sensorial: Opposites are big in this stage. High contrast elements in a variety of sensory experiences should be introduced for matching and comparison. Big and small, hot and cold (not too hot, right?), smooth and rough, hard and soft, loud and quiet, whatever you can think of. A lot of these don't require any new "equipment". You can do loud and quiet with nothing, and just about everything else can be improvised.

Math: 1:1 correspondence appears to be the key concept. Find something with several compartments and put one thing in each compartment (I love those little sock drawer organizers for this. You could even use the socks.). This is where math really begins. After all, without 1:1 correspondence, counting is just language--remembering a sequence of sounds, right? Another great activity for this is doling things out to the family (one blueberry for you, one for Daddy, and one for Mommy), or table setting, if you think your child is up to it.

Care of self/environment (Practical life): With the newfound ability to take off clothes comes an opportune time to introduce cubbies, laundry hampers, hooks, baskets, any easy organizational tool. You might already have introduced tooth brushing and hair brushing. I have decided to convert my abandoned weaning table (see "Weany, Whiny, Whoa!") into a handwashing station.

Grace and Courtesy: When you start to get language that means "give me", you can start expecting "please" and "thank you". Well, expect might be too strong a word, but you can ACT as if you expect it...

The little imitator will do whatever you do, so it's a good time to point out things like covering your face when you cough or sneeze, washing your hands before and after eating. You might also start hearing some sailor-language, if you're apt to use it.

Ok, this post is plenty long, so I'll give you the rundown on my the experimental toddler's actual observed behavior in the next post.

The Stage 5 Montessori Environment

13 Months Of Looking At A Chicken:

The Stage 5 Montessori Environment

On January 1st, Nuvy turned one, took her first unsteady little steps, and became what we now know as The Experimental Toddler. It's the middle of February, and I think I'm ready to talk about it.

12 months marks a new phase of development that the gurus call "Stage 5", and that was a month and a half ago. Look at her now! She walks like a champ, even runs a little, climbs EVERYTHING, and generally behaves like a busy toddler.

Stage 5: Stage 5 is the period between 12 months and 18 months, according to this model, so we're sticking with that. If you missed the previous 4 stages, you can summaries of them in the "Stage 3" and "Stage 4" posts. The general trend in Stage 5 is to introduce a fairly wide assortment of new materials to coincide with significant specialization in all areas of the brain.

HEY WAIT A MINUTE!

This post has been sitting around in the "edit" column for two months now, and still nothing. The Experimental Toddler continues to toddle with ever-greater efficiency, speaks fluent baby and knows a few words in English. However, we are moving. The Montessori Laboratory is currently packed in a PODS container in a Philadelphia driveway, waiting to go in the new house.

Further, the Montessori experiment is about to go into overdrive as Subject Two (a second Experimental Infant) is expected this fall. To all of you who asked how this could possibly be done with more than one child, my previous answer was something like "Actually, I have no idea." I will now amend that to "I can't wait to find out, and I'll keep you posted!"

So, for everyone who wrote asking if the Mommybahn had closed for good, it has not. And I'll tell you all about the Stage 5 environment, as soon as I get my notes out of whatever box they're in.

And the winner is...

The Montessori Christmas Sweepstakes

Maria Montessori's life's work was to understand and promote the development of the whole child. She emphasized spiritual growth, grace and courtesy, independence, and the mind-body connection as pillars of the formation of the self. Her philosophy has lately come to be "method", and as such, occasionally comes nose to nose with the philosophy itself. As you all know, I'm here with the Experimental Infant (fast becoming the Experimental Toddler)trying to sort it all out.

And so, I return to the whole child and her first Christmas. (Some of you remember that this was to be her second Christmas--had she deigned to be born when due...) This Christmas, Montessori had some big wins, some big losses, some laughs and some spins in her grave. To relate just a few:

The Big Loser: The Weaning Table.

Christmas (and Hannukkah, and Kwanzaa, and Eid, and Diwali and your birthday, and every other celebration I can think of) is largely expressed as dinner, and the weaning table simply misses out. It's independent, true, but it excludes her. She's a "kid's table" of one, and she seems as aware of it as I am. She just has to participate in the celebration, the passing of food, the conversation, everything. I think that her sitting at the table, eye to eye with all the important people in her life, is an invaluable social experience, and Montessori is as much about social integration of the child as it is about independence. At dinnertime, independence loses to grace-and-courtesy by a nose.

The Big Winner: Getting Outside with The Grandpa Set

Nuvy spent Christmas in Lake City, FL (we were not damaged by tornadoes, but several others were) where the highlight of her trip was pushing a plastic mower up and down the driveway until she was out of breath, dragging her bare toes on the pavement until they bled, then putting on shoes and heading out for more. No, the mower is not strictly traditional (the Radio Flyer Walker Wagon is the traditional choice--but was not available at our local Wal-Mart store) but it doesn't have bells and buzzers, and it is perfectly functional as a push toy. She's just that close to walking, and she literally came in with her tongue hanging out. There wasn't anything under the Christmas tree better than that time outside with Daddy and Gramps and the beautiful day.

For Christmas in Philadelphia, it was a walk in the sling with Opa, over a muddy path in Fairmount Park by the Wissahickon. It's a riverside walk we take often, as it's close to home. Here again, independence loses--this time to enrichment. Sure, she might have pushed her wagon through the mud without much damage to either of them, but she would never have made it down to the rapids, or have seen the little trickle coming out of a wall, or have looked over the stone bridge. These are all of debatable developmental value compared to her independent effort in getting around in nature, and there's a big part of me that wishes I'd let her push the wagon, but the community joy was the best part.

The Big Cringe: Another Round of Applause.

Now, I am a tremendous advocate of modeling social graces, and I want my daughter to feel loved and appreciated, but I often feel a sort of crushing guilt when I see her delightedly working the crowd.

Nuvy is an only child, and the only grandchild (until July, right, Auntie Shoogs?) of all four of her grandparents, which means that her every move is watched and recorded (yes, blogged) and cooed about and applauded. The Montessori gurus have a big bone to pick with excessively praising children, and I am right there with them. I try really, really hard to quietly beam with pride when she does something amazing, or just to share her joy in her accomplishment with a "Wasn't that great?" but it is so, so hard at family gatherings. I feel like the world's biggest stick-in-the-mud when everyone's applauding her and she's lit up like the Christmas tree. It's hard to walk the line between sharing her joy and egging her on, or trying to get her to "do it again for Uncle Mack" or whoever missed it the first time, and I can begin to see the people-pleaser in her. It's hard to resist enticing her to perform when it's so much fun for all of us, but I still get a little queasy when I remember that this is my first, best chance to let her do it just for herself.

I'll bet you want to know what was under the Montessori Baby's Christmas tree, right?

Of course you do, and it was probably a lot like Christmas morning for lots of other little American boys and girls. After all, it's not about the stuff. However, honorable mentions follow:

Best restraint in purchasing: The "baby doll that doesn't do anything". It doesn't cry, wet, sing, or play music. Its eyes do close when you lay it down. Nuvy loves it.

Best excuse for a non-Montessori toy: The battery-operated cell phone and keys. I have to paraphrase, because I can't remember the exact quote, but it goes something like this:

A: The real keys and cell phone are some of her favorite toys. B: They are not the best toys because they are (choking hazards, fragile, electronic, dirty, will-put-your-eye-out...) but she totally loves them. C: Real keys and cell phones make noises and have batteries inside. Ergo: A toy phone that beeps when you press the buttons (never mind the animal sounds) and a set of toy keys that has buttons that make car-unlocking sounds, engine starting sounds, etc. is completely within bounds as a realistic toy.

I could argue, but I won't, since it's pretty close to my audubon birds argument. Nuvy, of course, loves them.

Best toy I hid under the sofa: Leapfrog Lily. It speaks english and spanish and teaches numbers and colors in both languages. It sings a pathologically catchy song. Nuvy loves it. Please don't tell her where I hid it.

Best gift overall: I know, this one gets the corny award. She'll never remember anything anyone gave her, but I'll bet next year she'll be looking forward to Christmas. Like most of us, she won't really be able to put her finger on why, but it'll be because somewhere deep inside her is planted a memory of love and laughing and general festivity. What could be better than that?

Weanie, Whiny, Whoa!

Weanie, Whiny, Whoa: The Weaning Table Bites Back!

So, when I started this, there were dichotomous responses to my decision that Nuvy would have a weaning table instead of a high chair at home.

Column "A" included those who asked probing questions, such as "How is that going to affect your family mealtimes?" or, "How are you going to keep her sitting at the table?" or perhaps, "Isn't that going to be kind of hard?" To these, I responded confidently that I saw these kids in an infant program using the weaning table and they were all quite successful and I was sure we would be quite successful, too.

Column "B" included those who looked, blinked slowly, smiled knowingly, and said something like, "Oh, how interesting. Let me know how that works out for you." To these I say I'd like to order a good single malt, neat, to wash down my crow.

Yes, neighbors, we have had some challenges with the weaning table. Nuvy does come to the table when I put food on it, but she WILL NOT stay seated there. A typical meal goes like this:

-I say, "Lunch is ready! Come to the table, Nuvy!"

-Nuvy comes barrelling across the room saying "MMM! MMM!" and slapping her little hands along the floor the whole way.

-Nuvy sits down and digs in.

-Nuvy has one bite of whatever she's having--two if she's very hungry--then gets up from the table and takes off.

-She looks behind her. I'm still sitting at the table.

-She comes back. "MMM! MMM!"

-She stands up beside the table and takes a few carrots off her plate.

-I say, "We sit down to eat, Nuvy." and guide her over to her chair to sit, but if she sits on the floor next to the table, I pull the table in front of her and consider this good enough.

-She takes another bite, maybe two, then throws the plate onto the floor and takes off.

-I clean up the table and race her to reach the pieces on the floor. End of meal.

I am grateful to both my mother and my mother-in-law for never, EVER suggesting to me that I just get a high chair like other people do. They have both been respectfully, supportively silent on the matter.

So, I bought a high chair. It's a lovely high chair. Now we can all sit together at the table, and Nuvy can enjoy family meals like the rest of us. And I can put her in the chair, and I can take her out. She's fine with this in restaurants. In fact, she seems to love sitting at the table with everyone. She does not squirm or cry to get out. She seems quite happy, and I take her out immediately if she isn't.

But it still bothers me.

So, as luck would have it, IMMEDIATELY after I bought the lovely high chair that grows into a teenager's desk chair looks great with the dining room furniture, here is what Nuvy did.

Dinner time came around, I went to the kitchen to prepare her food. She crawled over to the table, sat down in the little chair, put both her hands on the table and said "YUM! YUM! YUM!". Then proceeded to eat an entire plate of spinach with raisins, green peas, sweet potato, about 15 cheerios, and half a pint of blueberries. Then she drank a glass of water, pushed the chair back from the table, and crawled off to the living room to play.

What do you think of that?

The Unprepared Environment

The Unprepared Environment: Montessori and Your In-Laws

FULL DISCLOSURE: My own in-laws are completely supportive of my Montessori tendencies and habits and would never, ever laugh at or scorn me in any way. Neither would they behave toward my child in any way contrary to my wishes, which I have painstakingly laid out. I uphold them as the very pinnacle of in-law existence, exempt them from any and all oblique or direct criticism, and sincerely hope that you should be so lucky.--A

When you tour a Montessori school, it all looks so easy. All the kids are perfectly normalized in their perfectly prepared environment at their most perfectly photogenic hour of the day--sometime between 9:00am and 11:00am. Over and over, parents like you and me (well, let me not speak for you...) say the same thing.

"My kid is not going to act like that."

And of course, the clever Montessorian who is leading your tour is ready with a reassuring, truthful response. Mine was always, "Almost all children do behave this way here, because the environment is carefully and minutely prepared to encourage them in this kind of work."

This often precipitates a discussion about the very real and intractable differences between the Montessori-school "prepared environment" and the rest of your often un-prepared, un-didactically-controlled life. There are just so damned many other people in your life, right? And doesn't each one come with her own confounded ideas?

One of the things that invariably intrudes upon a parenting strategy is the degree of license grandparents take with it as their god-given right to spoil. Call it a generation gap, call it amnesia, call it indulgence or call it grandparenthood--it's all in good fun. You can compound it with interest if you make them paternal grandparents because of the Daddy Factor (see post "The Daddy Factor"). The fact is, all these rules about "aids-to-independence" can be a tough sell for the grands, but it's not an impossible sell!

Can you feel me prepping you for Thanksgiving and everything else until January? Good.

Here are a few plays from my book, in case you're interested, to keep your family time in line with your Montessori home environment--especially when you are in someone else's home.

1. Go outside!
Take your child outside. If your in-laws are outdoorsy, they'll enjoy and enhance this experience for the baby, and if they aren't, they're likely to follow your lead (or at worst, be absent, which is OK in a pinch, right?). Taking a fussy child outside is, above all, calming to the child. Incidentally, it diminishes the temptation to do all kinds of invasive, distracting things to try to make the child stop fussing. Birdsong instead of knee-bouncing! Who can argue with that? Oh, and bundle up for the weather! It's good for you!

By the way, you don't need to live in a park to enjoy the outdoors. Why just today, due to an unplanned automotive event, Nuvy and I had a lovely nature walk around the perimeter of an Exxon station near the DC beltway, with rush-hour traffic going by. (The gas-station-people had planted marigolds, morning glories, and petunias, and had a delightful population of crickets and sparrows.)

2. Let them see you enjoying it.
Oh, you know it sells itself. Do it just like that tour guide did. Point out your child's independent activities in front of your in-laws. Engage them in following and observing the child by saying "Watch her _______!" and "Look! She can _____". Use hushed tones to heighten the effect. Really do it, and with feeling. They will all be charmed, and many of them will get right into it.

3. Hang out in a room where there's no TV--or don't be the one to turn it on.
I'm sure I don't have to map out for you how this is exponentially easier than asking your father-in-law to turn off The O'Reilly Factor.

4. Try not to be a toy-snob.
Let me be the first to tell you that Montessori-toy-snobbery will get you some measure of civil disobedience from the rest of your family. Trust me when I further tell you it is SO not worth it. Yes you can get Montessori-appropriate toys at Wal-Mart, you just have to be careful, as you would anywhere else. Plastic toys can be aids to independence, like the old-fashioned wooden ones, and for every Tickle-Me-Curious-George, or whatever, there is a plastic rainbow stacker, a xylophone piano, a bouncy ball, a baby-doll that doesn't do anything, a board book, or a string of plastic teething beads that will satisfy the gift-giving urge without compromising your principles.

5. So, what do I do with the singing-dancing-vibrating toy my mother-in-law couldn't resist?
It's so easy you'll laugh. Give it to your child, but don't turn it on or demonstrate it--or let anyone else do so. Tell your mother-in-law that you want the child to discover all the features of the toy on her own. With no direction, your child will play with the toy in a natural, constructive way--perhaps figuring out how to get a rise out of it--or not. Let this happen and let no one interfere. This is much more peaceful than refusal, and we're all about peaceful living.

6. I'm doing the weaning table/floor bed routine. What do I tell the grandparents who want to buy a high chair and a crib for their house?
Of course they do! They're as excited about your baby as you are, right? A corollary issue would concern the high chair and crib they already have for all their other grandchildren, but Nuvy is the first grandchild, so that's where we were. Improvising with readily available stuff is easier for everyone, and you'll get less eye-rolling. I discovered that a Bumbo seat (the thing you get at Target-- and not until your child can get out of it on her own) combined with one of those collapsible bed trays, the one with the white formica top you got as a bridal shower gift, (also available at www.target.com in case no one gave you one) makes a fine weaning table. Throw a bath towel under it and let 'er rip!

Also, if throwing the crib mattress on the floor makes your in-laws squeamish, or if you sleep in hotels often, One Step Ahead (www.onestepahead.com) has an inflatable sleepover bed designed for older children that looks like a little blue raft. I find that it makes a great traveling floor bed. I got it when Nuvy outgrew those little newborn travel bed/boxes. (to state the obvious: One Step Ahead does not advertise its inflatable bed for this use, and I am not an infant-safety authority. Use common sense. If it doesn't feel safe to you--don't do it.)

The Stage 4 Montessori Environment

How Did We Already Get Here?: The Stage 4 Montessori Environment

So I can't believe I'm saying this, but at eight months (September) we move into the Stage 4 environment. For those of you who are just joining us, there is a brief recap of the previous stages in my post on the Stage 3 environment. For all the rest of us, time does march on, doesn't it? Apologies in advance if this is way more information than you want or need. If you just want to hear about the stuff (but it's not about the stuff!) I'm adding to her playroom, skip to "environmental supports".

The Stage 4 Montessori environment is appropriate for babies between eight and 12 months. So, who are these babies, anyway? I will consult my Montessori papers:

Stage 4 Neurological Development:
The Stage 4 baby is having a tremendous growth spurt in the cerebellum--which is the back part of the brain that controls muscle coordination, sirection, sense of gravity, and coordination of muscle movement. In essence, the part of the brain that controls the body is starting to "catch up" with the part that sets goals and plans movement. This means she can execute her plans with greater sophistication--and all of a sudden, it seems.

As a result of her rapidly improving sense of gravity and a finer grasp of balance, the Stage 4 child will pivot, squat and stoop on her feet, pull up and cruise along walls and furniture, and maybe even begin walking during this stage.

The Stage 4 child plays with a purpose. She pulls and drags toys, is interested in dumping, throwing, and dropping objects for effect, and picks things up with the intent to play with them. She can put one object inside another (nesting) or on top of another (stacking). If given a bottle, she can find the business end of it all by herself.

Stage 4 Cognitive Development:
The Stage 4 baby develops the ability to make and execute plans with smooth, coordinated actions during this stage. Her experiments are dramatically more purposeful and better organized now.

Since most of the dramatic growth is in the motor centers, you may notice that the nature of your baby's independent activities will remain largely the same for a few months, but they will be executed with rapidly increasing fluidity. The ability to cruise or take a few steps will dramatically increase her range of movement and physical strength. The hands are increasingly free to explore, as she needs them less and less for locomotion and balance.

She begins to respond to her own name, and can follow simple commands, but the nature of a command is still fuzzy for her, so don't be surprised if the baby's own will easily wins out over your command. It's not defiance (yet!), just an incomplete understanding of the relationship between her own desires and your commands.

Stage 4 Emotional and Social Development:
The Stage 4 baby's emotions are quite sophisticated now. She's no longer just happy or unhappy, frightened or delighted, but shades of emotion are evident. You will see shyness and anger, and an attachment to routine emerging. At this stage, she can follow a pattern or sequence of events, anticipate what should come next, and get extremely pissed off if her anticipations prove unreliable.

She's developing social references. She's comfortable with people she knows, and uncomfortable with strangers. Her interactive play is more advanced and her comprehension better. If you leave her, she can anticipate your return.

The sounds she makes will start to have meaning. Her imitations of speech are more refined and she vocalizes a lot more. Her gestures are getting more subtle in meaning--many people introduce sign language during this stage--and her passive vocabulary is growing like crazy. Be sure to call everything by it's name. The Stage 4 baby will pick up on this long before she can talk back.

Stage 4 Environmental Supports:
This is the part you've been waiting for.

The walking curriculum: For her eight months birthday, Nuvy gets a ballet barre, mounted 18" off the floor of her playroom for cruising (I found it at www.thebarrecompany.com). I did not buy, but I do like, the balance boards and some of the other walking materials from Lord Company (www.lordequip.com). Of course, a lot of the walking materials are only necessary if your house is completely devoid of low tables and windowsills to pull up on, or if you are trying to fill a huge playroom. Neither of these is the case for me.

Really, now, the weaning table: I am really, really ready now to start her at the weaning table. She is sitting up much better now than two days ago when I wrote about the Bumbo chair (use it for feeding, and forget the lap thing. Really, it's better.) AND she is seriously into playing with her food now, so I think she needs her own table, and I might just give her a plate too, and let her go at it. A friend of mine hooked me up with www.kidonyc.com for some seriously beautiful tableware for children--and a completely different Montessori perspective--one much less restrictive than mine.

Baskets: Nuvy is really into dumping things out of containers, so I have put her toys in little baskets that are within her reach. Montessori folks call this a "treasure basket" and fill it with beautiful things for the child to admire. I have one for little scarves for her to pull out, and one for rattles and other toy-size objects. I also put all the board books on the lowest shelf so she can pull them down.

Nesting blocks: I think I will introduce these early, like the vinyl stacking blocks, and see what she does with them. www.rosiehippo.com has cute rainbow wooden stackers, but lots of companies make them. Rosie Hippo recommends them for age 2+, so follow me at your own risk. This site is a great resource for all kinds of wooden toys. Check them out.

We'll keep you posted!