Spontaneous Bursts of Chess
We were out partying last night, and didn’t get in till midnight. (By partying, I mean roasting marshmallows and stargazing with a bunch of friends.) Today is what I call a “non-day”–everyone got up late and has accomplished very little, while the time just seems to glide by.
The kids have been watching parts of a favourite movie, Pride and Prejudice – the 5-hour-long, A & E version. Having finished with Mr. Darcy’s horrendous proposal and Lizzie’s rejection, they chose to turn to the chess board.
For some reason, the 5-year-old was playing against the 11-year-old. I have no idea if Brat Boy even knows how the pieces move. Spazz, of course, trounced him, and was revelling in his own ego rather than showing any concern over having his little brother in tears.
Spazz capped off his bad behaviour with, “Well, I expected him to play better than that.”
And with that, I was quite fed up. I threatened to sit him down and embarrass him thoroughly at a match if he didn’t smarten up, and asked him how he’d like it if I were to make him feel that way. He said he “probably” wouldn’t like it too much.
“A little more than probably,” I growled at him. “Sit down and work on endgame together.”
In practising their endgame, they are not to be playing against each other as such, but strategizing co-operatively. They dug out their Chess for Kids book. They chose a few pieces to work with, and started reading. Banana Brain is now flipping through the book, while the Littles are setting up pieces. The Spazz has sulked off to his room to read, which is the best place possible for him when he’s tired.
At times, they’re great at creating their own learning experiences like this. At others, their undeveloped personalities create less-than-gracious situations, and that’s where I come in. My job is to redirect, to draw lines regarding courtesy, fair play and rules, and to ensure things stay enjoyable. If they don’t, I shut it down, and we move on.
The kids have been watching parts of a favourite movie, Pride and Prejudice – the 5-hour-long, A & E version. Having finished with Mr. Darcy’s horrendous proposal and Lizzie’s rejection, they chose to turn to the chess board.
For some reason, the 5-year-old was playing against the 11-year-old. I have no idea if Brat Boy even knows how the pieces move. Spazz, of course, trounced him, and was revelling in his own ego rather than showing any concern over having his little brother in tears.
Spazz capped off his bad behaviour with, “Well, I expected him to play better than that.”
And with that, I was quite fed up. I threatened to sit him down and embarrass him thoroughly at a match if he didn’t smarten up, and asked him how he’d like it if I were to make him feel that way. He said he “probably” wouldn’t like it too much.
“A little more than probably,” I growled at him. “Sit down and work on endgame together.”
In practising their endgame, they are not to be playing against each other as such, but strategizing co-operatively. They dug out their Chess for Kids book. They chose a few pieces to work with, and started reading. Banana Brain is now flipping through the book, while the Littles are setting up pieces. The Spazz has sulked off to his room to read, which is the best place possible for him when he’s tired.
At times, they’re great at creating their own learning experiences like this. At others, their undeveloped personalities create less-than-gracious situations, and that’s where I come in. My job is to redirect, to draw lines regarding courtesy, fair play and rules, and to ensure things stay enjoyable. If they don’t, I shut it down, and we move on.
Labels: LifeSkills, Unschooling
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