Monthly Archive for March, 2008

Ten tips for international travel with kids

Published
by
twinutero
on March 30, 2008
in Getting around
. 0 Comments

We recently traveled (moved actually) from Canada to South Africa with three children under four years old. Here are ten tidbits of wisdom I learned along the way:

1. Start paper work early. Everyone needs a passport now, from newborns up. That means getting passport quality photos and that means, realistically, several trips to the photographer. Small children don’t like to perch on a high stool and have a flash go off in their face. Getting photos that the passport office will accept is therefore a chore. We also needed visas – a different form, a different office and more photos. Get at least four copies of ID photos and leave plenty of time for the bureaucracy to do its work.

2. Get proof of custody. In Canada there are “long form” and “short form” birth certificates. Only the long forms include names of parents. We needed the long form to get visas – an extra step that took time and money. (Ontario guarantees delivery of a birth certificate within five business days if you pay $65 and choose their “premium online delivery” option. Otherwise, the process can take months.) On the topic of custody, you might also check the Government of Canada’s publication International Child Abductions. Just in case….

3. Get vaccinated – expect trauma. My GP was unable to tell us what vaccinations we needed to travel to Cape Town so we consulted a travel doctor. He advised Hepatitis A/B and rabies shots. Hep A/B is a series of three needles, as is rabies. That’s six needles per child, times three children – eighteen needles. It has not been fun. It has not been cheap either. Medical treatment for traveling purposes is not covered by our provincial medical plan. Rabies shots are particularly expensive, about $180 per needle. Also, Hepatitis vaccinations are given over a six month period, so plan ahead.

4. Get an international driver’s license. Foreign licenses may be valid for a time, but they eventually expire and getting your license renewed from abroad can be a real pain. I’ve also been advised by the Canadian consulate in South Africa that insurance companies aren’t partial to foreign licenses and might try to avoid payment if you’re in an accident without a local or international license.

5. Travel by night. We took two overnight flights: Halifax to London; then London to Cape Town. It was the most direct route we could find, but was still over thirty hours of travel. We left at midnight, with the kids in their PJs, hoping they’d act like any other night and sleep. That flight was brutal, I have to say. We got a day room at an airport hotel in London. While it was expensive, it allowed everyone to shower and sleep. It was worth it. The next flight, twelve hours long, was a breeze in comparison. The kids slept most of the way and arrived in South Africa ready to go. Based on other, shorter trips we have done, traveling by night was the right choice.

6. Sedate the children. Okay, I didn’t tell the whole story in #5. We gave Gravol to Alex and Thomas on the second flight. Just one shot – the recommended dose. I don’t know if it was necessary since Jon slept for nine straight hours without any meds and I’m reluctant to give sedation my wholesale recommendation. But this time, for us, it worked.

7. Travel light. Check your luggage all the way through to your destination, otherwise you’ll be traipsing through airports with cranky kids and toppling stacks of suitcases. Our carry-on bags were also as compact and simple as possible. The kids carried their own backpacks with their blankets, snacks and water. My carry-on was full of wipes, diapers, extra plastic bags, lollipops for take-off and landing, and a few surprise toys to distract when things got raucous. Best travel toys are silent and have few moving parts. We brought books, stickers, magnets (in a tin) and drawing boards. And we watched the in-flight movies – several times.

8. Get a good moving company. I’ve moved many times – and I’ve never found a moving company I like. This move was no exception. Their cost estimate was off by 50% and the shipping took a month longer than predicted. It seems impossible to avoid these little surprises, so I would now expect them. Expect to pay more and wait longer. That means finding an interim place to stay that will accommodate kids, and that kids will accommodate.

9. Share your plans. We started talking about our move as soon as it was confirmed. Thomas knew that we were going “to Africa” and that we’d take a plane to get there. He knew he wouldn’t see his toys for a while, and wouldn’t see his friends for a longer while. Jon and Alex were included in these conversations but were too young to respond. I still don’t know how much they understood, but each transition (house to hotel; hotel to airport etc) went smoothly, as if they knew what we were doing. In any case, it just seems fair to let your kids know if you’re going to travel across the world.

10. Don’t do it for fun. I wouldn’t include international travel with small children as part of a fun family holiday. It’s costly, it’s stressful, and it increases your ecological footprint by several sizes.

Goods 4 Girls

Published
by
twinutero
on March 29, 2008
in Health and environment, School and South Africa
. 0 Comments

Here’s another dose of reality for me.

Thomas may have had trouble starting school - big troubles in his world. In the grand scheme of things, however, this trauma was a small and normal part of growing up.

Imagine the very different problems of school girls all over the world, girls who go to school but for a few days each month. They stay home because they lack something many women take for granted: menstrual products. Their education suffers, as does their self esteem.

To help, Goods 4 Girls and Crunchy Chicken are donating hand-sewn menstrual pads to girls in Africa. You can donate pads or money through their sites.

Beginning Montessori

Published
by
twinutero
on March 27, 2008
in School and South Africa
. 2 Comments

Four weeks ago, Thomas and I set off for our first day at preschool. I was calm and confident. He seemed so too. He had his new backpack, name emblazoned in permanent ink, extra underwear in case of accidents, and the requisite tube of sunblock. We drove to his school, found his class and placed his backpack in his personalized cubby-hole. The calm and confidence ended just about there.

Thomas is attending a local Montessori school. There are several in our neighborhood - Montessori seems quite popular around Cape Town and Thomas’ school seems as impressive as those we’d looked at in Canada. I had high hopes. I continue to have… hopes.

We all sat in a circle, that first day. Twelve children, a teacher, an assistant, and me with Thomas buried in my lap. He stayed like that through the date and weather, and surfaced just in time to run outside for playtime.

The second day went pretty much the same way except that during playtime, I told Thomas that I was going to pop to the store to buy milk, then come back to get him. During the brief time I was gone, he had a complete meltdown and wet his pants.

Every school morning for the following two weeks, I would leave Thomas screaming at the threshold to his class. I’d pick him up a few minutes later each day. He seemed fine when I “fetched him”, as they say here, except for a bursting bladder. He refused to use the school toilets and we had, um, major potty-training setbacks at home. All over our home, in fact.

Rebellion? Regression? Or simply a result of being deeply unsettled? I don’t know – but it was profoundly upsetting for me too. I had clearly underestimated preschool as a significant milestone in his life. I thought it would be similar to the home-care he attended in Canada. You know, play, other children, snacks….

I now realize that thinking was simplistic and optimistic. A classroom with twelve children, in a school with six classrooms, bears little resemblance to a cozy house with five friends. And as much as I agree with the Montessori method, I think Montessori schools may be a tougher initiation than the average preschool. Thomas is in the 3-6 year old class, so he is among the youngest. Ultimately, this could be great for learning and social development. Initially, however, I imagine it’s daunting – and confusing as the expectations of the older kids are different.

Montessori is also “hardcore” in the toy department. No plastic cars, no battery-operated entertainment, and much to Thomas’ dismay, no trains. The toys are specialized, educational, and for the most part wooden. Again, I like this approach, but the initial lure of new shiny toys that other preschools might provide just isn’t there.

I really considered pulling Thomas out of his school after a few weeks. I wondered if I was doing much, much more harm than good. School at three-years-old isn’t compulsory, after all. It’s supposed to be stimulating and fun. I almost packed it in when Thomas dressed up Alex in a hat and backpack and gently pushed him across our kitchen “to school” with the warning that Alex “mustn’t cry”.

We persisted however, to Thomas’ credit, and he made progress. He started using the toilet again. He stopped screaming at the sight of his school. He started to make friends. There were changes at home too. I saw a new independence as he prepared his own snacks and “fetched” his own clothes. He showed an interest in arranging things “in the right order”, and to my surprise, casually recited the days of the week in both English and Afrikaans.

But perhaps the greatest leap forward was expressed in a single new word. Thomas stood up straight on the couch one afternoon as Alex brought him one of our many wooden puzzles. Thomas pushed his chin in the air and proudly declared the puzzle “Bor-ring!” Boring – and with the intonation of a world wise teenager.

Okay, not a ringing endorsement of the Montessori method, but I was strangely relieved to hear it. It shows, for better or worse, a camaraderie with his classmates and an opinion about activities on offer. It was also a tiny dose of reality for me.

Missing the beat

Published
by
twinutero
on March 20, 2008
in Books and Play
. 1 Comment

I’m currently stoking my inadequate-mother complex by flipping through Home Learning Year by Year by Rebecca Rupp. It’s a fairly comprehensive guide to home schooling, starting in preschool. I have no intention of home schooling (although I like the idea) but I do intend to keep up with what my kids will eventually be learning - or should be learning - in school, and supplement at home.

With this in mind, I initiated our music lesson/jam session this afternoon.

Thomas was in his Superman outfit, Alex in his Spiderman suit and Jon dressed as a cowboy. The costumes had nothing to do with the music, of course, but they wanted to wear them. We got out all the musical instruments and settled on the living room rug. I am not terribly musical. I am decidedly non-musical. I have little idea where to start a music session, other than my recently acquired repertoire of children’s songs and my faded memories of ta-ta-ti-ti-ta in grade school. But we begin. The Wheels on the Bus was nixed. Counting time was boring even for me. All the kids wanted Jambo Bwana, their absolute favorite song from the Putumayo African Playground disc. We listen to it every time we’re in the car and all three of them know the words – in Swahili.

Okay, we start Jambo Bwana. Alex gets so excited he throws his Little Tikes tambourine at my head. I’m sure I’ll have a black eye. Thomas starts playing the drum with the dollar-store recorder which promptly shatters into deadly shards across the carpet. Thomas then strips off his Superman outfit and runs for the toilet. As I am cleaning him up, Jon climbs on top of the drum, falls off, and starts screaming in frustration and agony.

Is this what Kindermusik is like?

We’ll try again another day. And I’ll continue to be inspired by Home Learning. Here are a few more of my favorite books for those days when I’m feeling ambitious and invincible:

Teaching Green. The Elementary Years. Tim Grant and Gail Littlejohn
Scribble Art. MaryAnn F. Kohl
Science Play. Jill Frankel Hauser.

Is blogging about your kids exploitation?

Published
by
twinutero
on March 15, 2008
in Guilt and Writing
. 0 Comments

This question has been on my mind since I started reading mommy-blogs – more so since I started my own.

What is the difference between showing cute photos of your children to relatives, friends, or even acquaintances met on airplanes, and posting those same photos to a blog? In my mind, a big difference.

Sharing pictures and guess-what-my-kid-did-today stories with relatives deepens a personal and hopefully enduring connection. Same for friends. Sharing with strangers and acquaintances strengthens your connection with that person, but does little for your kids.

In all of those circumstances, though, you have control over who sees the photos and hears the stories, and more often than not you get direct feedback, so you know whether you want to continue sharing with this person.

Not so with a blog, of course. That photo of your baby breastfeeding, your toddler in diapers or your preschooler sleeping are out there for anyone with an internet connection to see.

Call me paranoid, Luddite, introverted (I may indeed be all of those) but I have a problem with posting intimate moments of my child’s life to the world. It is, after all, their life.

“Your children are not your children,” as Kahil Gibran famously wrote and Sweet Honey in the Rock beautifully sang.

That photo, now cataloged on the internet, is a fragment of a life that will expand in a million directions to form a complex adult with a very real and personal past. We’d think twice about posting a candid bedroom shot of our spouse or an entertaining faux pas of a sibling. I don’t think children are different.

Informed consent and benefit-sharing are two basic ethical principles drilled into every student of moral philosophy. It’s generally acknowledged that receiving informed consent from a young child is impossible. As for sharing benefits? Well, why do we blog? To share our “lessons learned” with a community of peers; to see our writing and photography published; to be heard; to gain a following; to earn money….

Few of these benefits go directly (if at all) to the main subjects of the blog, our children. Yet they carry a fair share of the risks, mainly loss of privacy although one could imagine worse.

So where do you draw the line? Have I already crossed it, despite attempts to respect my family’s privacy? Are all memoirs – and blogs are memoirs of a kind – exploitative? As with most ethical issues, debate is open and sometimes the best criterion is “I know it when I see it.”

I’ve seen plenty of insightful, respectful mommy- and daddy-blogs. I’ve also seen many where my sole thought is, “Are those kids going to be pissed….”