|From South to North: Our House, Bloomington, Park, |
Nashville, Columbus (IN), Ohio (see the archway?)
Soon after, she was really, really frightfully intent on writing number sentences. All before my first cup of caffeine. Normally I'd just let her chatter away and let it all wash over me (it was only 7am after all) but today the tide was just too strong. I didn't really understand why there was such a need to do all this before breakfast but sometimes you just need to act first and ask questions later.
She had already started her 'math lesson' by writing down 1+1=2. Then 2+2, 3+3, 5+5. At some point she said, "Every time I add, the numbers get bigger!" The answer to 5+5 was doubled, which was doubled again. 80+80 gave her some pause, but by then I had drunk my tea and decided we might as well get out those Cuisenaire rods again.
I wasn't completely sure if she was ready to move on to labeling each rod with a unit number or, for that matter, if I really understood how to use the rods to represent addition, or if we were going in the 'right' sequence of learning with these things. But why let any of that stop me?
I said, "First, can you just put the rods in order from smallest to biggest?" Done. "Okay, let's look at your first number sentence, one plus one. Here are two of the white blocks. Which block is the same length as two white blocks?"
|Then I had a bright idea: "Can you figure out how many white blocks make an orange? What other ways can you combine the rods to make ten?" Girl interrupts my line of thought, "I want to make a line of a hundred!" She knows that ten tens make one hundred so she starts stacking them together to make sure she has ten of them before she lines them up. I persist, "How many more ways can you make a ten?"|
|She wanted to see how long a line the ten tens would make when lined up end to end.|
|This is how long it was and there are apparently many different ways to combine the rods to make ten. We didn't get to all of them, I'm sure. Then she wanted to see what a line 200 units long would be...|
|"Look Mama! I'm 110 units long!"|
Later in the day I did find out why she was so intent on doing math this morning. It's actually a secret so if you see her don't let on that you know. "Mama," she said, "You know why I've been wanting a longer math lesson and have been so interested in maps and money? Because T. [a good friend] and I were wondering what would happen if you [the mommies] stopped loving us and those things would be important to know."
Apparently, she and her great friend T. have hatched a sort of secret survival plan for an undefined point in the future when "our mommies don't love us any more." They've decided they need to know how to do math, figure out how to work with money, and know how to survive in the outdoors. After I assured her repeatedly that I will ALWAYS love her, we went to the library to get some books about how to identify and cook with edible plants.
She said, "Don't tell T. that I told you. And even if you never stop loving me, it's still helpful information to know."
"I won't tell," I replied, "But it's probably good that I do know so I can help you find the information you need. Learning all this will be really helpful when you grow up and live on your own."
"But I'm going to live with you forever."