Have you talked with your children about sex? Maybe you’re thinking, “No, they’re way too young,” or “I’m dreading that moment.”

I recently spoke with Susan about this important topic, which she will be discussing at Parent Toolbox on Friday, from 9:30-11 am. She said that many people are uncomfortable talking with their kids about sex, but that it’s something that parents need to do for their family’s and their children’s sake.

“As parents, we need to be ready with information or know where to get information, because all kinds of questions come up during normal, healthy sexual development,” she said.

Friday’s workshop will cover many topics including:

• When should parents start talking with their children about sex?
• What behavior is normal exploration and what are the phases of sexual development?
• How do we keep our families safe from abuse and create safe homes?
• How do we find resources to help us navigate this topic?

It may surprise you to know that it’s never too soon to begin talking to your children about sex. Rather, parents need to how to address the topic appropriately for each age level.

“We are sexual beings from the time we are born,” says Susan. She stresses that children need to hear healthy, age-appropriate information from their parents. She adds, “Children of all ages need to feel comfortable and safe asking any question.”

Susan also talks about the importance of using proper anatomical terms, and not cutesy nicknames for body parts.

While it might be embarrassing if your child refers to his (or your) anatomy in public, children need to know that our sexual organs are body parts, just like any other body part. When a child knows and uses correct names, it’s obvious to all that they have parents who value truth and honest communication, and who know how to keep their family safe.

Local parents, if you would like to join us for this important workshop, please call 561 482-3412 to RSVP. $15 fee, includes childcare.

© Victoria Green and Sunflower Creative Arts, 2012

Some days are more challenging than others, even when you’re three years old. Maybe especially when you’re three years old.

My assignment, a companion to Haidor’s recent photo essay, was to follow Mihai through one whole day at our Seedlings “alternative to preschool” program. It ended up being quite an eye-opening experience for me. As a veteran Seedlings parent (two kids in Seedlings for two years each), I realized that even though I’d amassed a ton of co-op helper days over the years, this was the first opportunity I’d ever had to exclusively sit back and observe–one kid, for one day.

And what a day. Mihai, the teachers told me, has been struggling recently to find appropriate ways to express frustration, communicate, build friendships and learn empathy. In typical three-year-old fashion, he has a tendency to express himself physically–with pushing, hitting, throwing sand–rather than with words.

But he’s learning. More than once, I watched the conflict resolution/empathy-building process as Mihai first reacted physically, then (with guidance from a teacher or parent helper) found words to express his feelings and talk to the other child. Minutes later, Mihai and his new friend would be happily playing together, their differences completely forgotten.

It’s truly a beautiful process–one that, I imagine, would not be allowed to play out in many traditional preschool settings.

This, I realized, is why I send my children to Sunflower. Sometimes life is messy, but that’s when we all learn the most.

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© Jaime Greenberg and Sunflower Creative Arts, 2012

At Sunflower we have an old metal groundwater pump. The pump is attached to a large bin which, when filled, can spout water when hand pumped. Unfortunately somehow over the summer our pump broke and has sat unused.

Luckily our Jack-of-all-Trades father, Haidor, recently fixed up the old pump.

Immediately there was a new interest in the pump. Seedlings were busy filling the bin with the hose and pumping the hand crank up and down, staring down the hole waiting for the water to come.

For some of our younger Seedlings this can be a futile and frustrating process. In order for the pump to work it must be primed. Water must be poured down the spout simultaneously to the crank being pumped. For a three year old who has never used a hand pump this is quite a challenge. First the child must understand that the pump needs priming, less the efforts will be in vain. No water will come up the pump and often they will give up. Every now and then a more persistent child will try other ways to get the water to come out. Usually this results in the pump needing to be cleaned out of wood-chips and sand later.

Sometimes an older and more experienced Seedling will see a younger one struggling to work the pump and go to help. Most times the effort to prime the pump is at least a two person effort. The amount of water needed is fairly substantial and therefore pretty heavy. The pumping needed to get the water flowing is also strenuous. The result of a combined effort is a stream of flowing water. Usually the role of pumper and pourer switches between multiple children, and the pump gets quite a bit of action.

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While the children learn to prime the pump, we search for ways to prime the children. We see value in explorative, tenacious learners. The pump rewards cooperation and hard work with a flow of water. The pump also builds an experiential base for more advanced learning later in life. A child who played with pumps will have an easier time grasping the science that makes the pump work. Young children are unaware that the Bernoulli Equation, and Newton’s Second Law of Motion govern how the water moves from the bin to the pump and out the spout. But, before these children graduate high school they will be expected to understand these basic, scientific concepts.

We hope for our Seedlings to cross the bridge on their educational journey armed with a broad base of natural experiences. Young ones must learn to prime the pump before they can make it work. We want to prime their souls with the wonder and beauty of science, and help instill the tenacity of a life-long learner.

Sitting at a train crossing tonight, I looked up expecting to see freight cars zooming by. Only flat cars carrying huge dull looking container boxes flashed in front of me. I was sad to realize that the freight cars I loved as a kid might not exist anymore.

Growing up in South Jersey farmland, my brother and I would run or roller skate to the end of our street to watch the trains go by. Slow moving open freight cars of every color rumbled by piled high with good Jersey tomatoes, carrots and potatoes. First was the engineer, always waving as soon as he spotted us. At the end, our favorite, the caboose guy shouting out a booming “Hello there!” We waved wildly and called back from our safe spot across the street. The train rattling off out of sight was our cue to cross and scoop up giant veggies that had wiggled their way off the train cars. We raced home, warm tomato juice dribbling off our chins

How old did you picture us as you read this story? Did you see a mom with us holding our hands?

My brother was four, I was just six, and we were all alone.

Many hours of playing outside every day taught us to recognize and feel the rumble from the ground move up into our feet as trains approached. From that moment, we knew exactly how fast we had to skate to make it to the end of the street in time. From lots of experience, we also knew how to cross and when it was safe to gather up the vegetables. Mom was home taking care of the babies. Maybe, just maybe, we yelled, “train!” She trusted us and we trusted ourselves because, even at such a young age, we felt capable, with many experiences of unsupervised play under our belts.

“Play is a process not a product. We need to trust in the innate wisdom of children and let them get on with it.” Penny Wilson, master playworker, Playwork Primer

Historically how have humans learned to be independent and safe, to accurately assess risk and trust that they can take care of themselves? Through the process of freely chosen, personally directed, intrinsically motivated play, from birth to young adulthood and beyond.

Trust in their innate wisdom and capability is key to allowing children the opportunity to experience the many benefits of authentic play, without adult interference and direction.

As Penny Wilson says, the importance of trusting in our children’s “innate wisdom” and allowing them opportunities to build their capability through authentic play is clear. And that means giving them the space to “get on with it” without our constant direction or interference. But if we are petrified to let kids out of our sight, how can they gain this valuable experience? Is it even possible in today’s world to really trust our children and ourselves enough to allow them the play process?

In the 80’s, when my sons were the same age as my brother and I in the above story, I doubt that I would have let them do what I did. Even then there was a big disconnect between the childhoods my friends and I experienced and what we felt comfortable allowing for our children. However, I did allow my kids lots of time out in nature. They fished together under the bridge up the street, ran in the dark climbing on catamarans at the beach and enjoyed many hours of play in parks with a large mixed age group of my friends’ kids. Much of the time, if they were four or older, they would be out of sight but within calling distance.  I knew I could trust them because of all the tiny steps they had taken away from me in previous years. My group of friends and I trusted our own judgment. We valued the opportunities for independence and practice at risk assessment that safe, unadulterated (meaning without adult interference) play could provide for our children.

Fast forward to 2012 and it’s a whole different world. There are no more cabooses, and parents are afraid to let their children out of sight for even a moment. I think trust plays a big part. Trusting yourself as a parent and trusting your child. What happened to the trust in the innate wisdom and capability of children?

Take a breath. Think about it. More to come….

© Susan Caruso and Sunflower Creative Arts, 2012

Photos © Haidor Truu and Sunflower Creative Arts, 2012

Congratulations to Sunflower blogger Jaime Greenberg, 1st place winner in KaBOOM!‘s national guest blogging contest!

In her outstanding winning entry, Jaime writes about one of the ways she is keeping play alive — for her children and herself. You can read her post on KaBOOM!’s Play Today blog here:  Where are all the kids?

A huge thank you to everyone at KaBOOM! for this incredible opportunity to share Sunflower’s voices with the play community. We are proud to be a part of the team!

Sunflower blogger Victoria won 4th place in KaBOOM!’s recent guest blogging contest. For those of you who missed it, check it out below and on KaBOOM!’s Play Today blog. Then read more great Sunflower posts by Victoria here.

Also–read Jaime’s winning entry in the KaBOOM! contest here!

You know that stereotypical childhood spent outdoors that parents these days wish their children could have? The one with kids roaming free through the neighborhood, digging in the dirt, climbing trees and playing outside until after dark in the summer? Yep, I had that, growing up in Rhode Island in the 70s and 80s.

Now I have two boys, ages 5 and 2, and we live in a townhouse in south Florida. Many of the things I experienced as a child aren’t available here: big backyards, friendly neighborhood moms who invite you in for a drink of water, the ability to walk home from school. My friends and I spent some time bemoaning those differences, until I realized: my kids don’t know what they’re missing.

We do have a yard. Ok, yes, it’s tiny. But so what? My kids are tiny. The yard has grass and bushes and rocks and bugs and lizards and sea shells. Nature! And we have a long driveway which we share with our neighbors that also has some bushes and trees. Perfect for riding trikes and bikes, drawing with chalk, blowing bubbles and squirting one another with the hose. Our neighborhood abuts the Intracoastal Waterway. Just a short walk down the road and we can play on a sandy beach, see pelicans flying overhead and watch fish jumping. We can check to see if the tide is high or low, and whether any treasures have washed up on our shore.

One day last week, after a rain shower, my kids and I went out into our driveway to play. The boys immediately started splashing in a puddle. My older son got a bucket and made some mud, which he smeared onto a tree. After a while, he pulled some leaves off a bush and plastered those into the mud: a messy, oozy poultice.

While we were out, our neighbor directly across the driveway came home with her two girls, ages 5 and 7. They looked longingly at my muddy, wet boys and asked if they could play outside, too. Their mom looked aghast and hustled them inside immediately.

Sometimes, the opportunity for play is there, but you just have to look a bit harder to find it.

© Victoria Green and Sunflower Creative Arts, 2012

At Sunflower we’re all about advocating for the right to play for all children. But we also know parents need to stop and play a little too! After all, the benefits of play apply to all people–adults included. That was the idea behind our recent fundraiser, which combined a “Playful” Yoga class with a relaxing Moms’ Night Out wine and cheese get-together at the Red Tent in Delray Beach.

Sunflower mamas enjoying the outdoor foot spa at the Red Tent

I joined 10 other women for the yoga class, led by the amazing Lisa Kelly of the Red Tent. As we moved through a series of silly Kundalini yoga kriyas, the mood in the room moved from nervous anticipation to laughter to relaxation. We did everything from lion’s breath–which basically involves sticking out your tongue really far and sort of roaring to crazy-vigorous leg and arm shaking to get to the root of “subconscious depression” (who knew that even existed, but I certainly felt happier afterwards!) to letting go of our inhibitions and dancing (“dance like a little girl!” Lisa told us. “just close your eyes and feel the music.”), chanting and singing (I love singing the ‘sunshine song’!).

Afterwards, we joined an even larger group for the wine and cheese portion of the evening. I spent most of the night soaking my feet in the Red Tent’s outdoor foot spa and laughing with friends. I left feeling more relaxed than I had in ages. Plus (win-win!) I felt especially happy knowing all proceeds from the night went to benefit Sunflower’s play advocacy efforts and programs for children.

Water play and silly faces aside, it’s not exactly the same kind of play we’re used to seeing our kids take part in at Sunflower–but, for all of us grown-ups,  the results felt just as good!

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Thank you to our friend Lisa Kelly for donating her time, talent and beautiful space at the Red Tent for our Sunflower Playful Yoga and Moms Night Wine & Cheese fundraisers! Special thanks also to Meryl Davids Landau for donating proceeds from copies of her novel, Downward Dog, Upward Fog, sold during the fundraisers; Silver Lining Catering for donating the delicious cheese, fruit and dessert platters; Krystle from Yossi Salon and Spa for donating the gift basket for our raffle; Kim Guelig, IBCLC, RLC, and Sophie n Me restaurant for donating items for the yoga participants; and to all the volunteers who worked to make the night a success!

© Jaime Greenberg and Sunflower Creative Arts, 2012

There are 25 children in our Seedlings “alternative to preschool” program. That’s lots of opportunities each day for play, creativity, problem-solving, learning conflict resolution–and, of course, having fun.

We love watching the children learn and play all together, but we wondered what we might discover if we focused in on just one child. So last week Sunflower dad and photographer, Haidor Truu, spent one day following around one of our Seedlings.

What follows is a typical day at Seedlings, as seen through the eyes of Meadow, age 3.

Also see One Day at Sunflower: Through the eyes of Mihai

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© Sunflower Creative Arts, 2012
Photos © Haidor Truu and Sunflower Creative Arts, 2012

We are very pleased to announce a new addition to the Sunflower Creative Arts staff! Welcome to our new theatre teacher, Whitney Stange. Whitney teaches Storytime Drama and Theatre Workshop, and she is the We Love Shakespeare! assistant. She will also serve as the Roots and Shoots – Shooting Stars facilitator.

“I’m looking forward to building close relationships with the kids,” says Whitney.  “I hope to find things that excite them, open up their creativity and allow them to have fun.”

Whitney’s love of theatre is obvious from her resume. She holds a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in acting from the University of Colorado, and a Masters degree in a relatively rare field — Educational Theatre –  from New York University.

Whitney says she pursued her Masters degree thinking that she’d teach high school drama, since she had a great high school theatre experience. She quickly realized that she loves working with younger children, too. Over the course of her career, she has taught drama to children of all ages, from infants to teenagers. For 3½ years, Whitney was the Performing Arts Director for a private elementary school in Los Angeles.

She relocated to Florida in December 2011 with her husband, their three year-old son and their ten month-old daughter, who is named for a Shakespearean character.

Whitney speaks fondly of her previous teaching experience, and says she wants to apply that experience to her position at Sunflower.

She says, “My experience as a theatre educator is purposeful,” and that she would like to see the children in Sunflower’s theatre programs build skills through purposeful play.

Whitney acknowledges that it can be difficult to come to a new job with “a tight philosophy,” and says she has been working closely with Susan to uphold Sunflower’s philosophy while bringing her own voice to her role.

© Victoria Green and Sunflower Creative Arts, 2012
Photos © Jennifer Ligeti and Sunflower Creative Arts, 2012

The house I grew up in had a long dirt driveway. At the beginning of every summer my mom would have Waste Management deliver mountains of free mulch. The mulch mountains were so humongous we had to scramble on our hands and knees to reach the top. The huge mass was so thick it radiated heat and would steam at night. You could smell the mulch mountains three houses away.

As soon as my sisters and I saw the trucks coming we hid. We knew what was coming. Mom would head to the shed and retrieve the rakes. Three at first, but more later.

It was our start of the summer job to rake the mulch mountains and evenly cover our driveway. Usually the endeavor took about one whole week. South Florida in the summer averages high-nineties with oppressing humidity. The steaming mulch mountains were teeming with cockroaches and drenched with the smell of wet wood so thick I will never forget.

 As we started on the daunting task a few of our neighborhood friends would ride by on their bikes. The reaction was always the same, and quite the opposite of our own. “Can we climb the mountains?!” our friends would yell, ditching their bikes by the roadside as they sprinted toward the rotting piles. We stood, sweating and clutching our rakes, and watched in amazement.

What really, really surprised us was that our friends would find our mom and ask to help. This always blew my mind, and yet I never complained. It’s like everyone in your neighborhood asking to help you move; it just doesn’t happen very often.

So for the next week the whole neighborhood of kids worked tirelessly on the great mulch mountains. Our friends would show up in the morning holding their rakes across their handlebars. Shoes were lost, runts (me) were buried, and muscles ached. At the end of the week our driveway had a fresh layer of mulch, and everyone would get busy with their summer schedules. There were forests to make trails in and hours to be spent playing in the pool.

Creating community at Seedlings Family Work Day

Despite the countless choices inside, and technological distractions available, I think most kids would love the opportunity to do some real work. Raking out mulch mountains in the heat might not be ideal, but it gave my friends a chance to work at something that seemed impossibly hard. Together we chipped away each day at the piles taking breaks to play, drink lemonade, and talk. I have a sad feeling that children these days, due to a lack of true communities, natural play spaces, and a growing tide of irrational fears for safety, lack the opportunities to do big communal work projects. Luckily all it takes is a big pile of steaming mulch.

© Jonathan Iris-Wilbanks and Sunflower Creative Arts, 2012
Photo © Haidor Truu and Sunflower Creative Arts, 2012