Camp Ribeiro Rides Again

Published in The Fauquier Times-Democrat Weekend on July 1st, 2011
Summer can be a difficult time for working parents, and even more so for those at home. Ten weeks of free time can be a little daunting unless it is well carved out. Often this includes camps, vacations, activities, and play dates.


People ask if I send my kids to camp. I don’t need to. Right here, at home, I have the amazing and thrilling “Camp Ribeiro” running once again. It doesn’t promise any life-changing experiences, just life skills, plain and simple.


Here’s how a day at Camp Ribeiro works: First thing in the morning, we study Place Values. That is, we empty the dishwasher and put everything away. There is great Value in having everything in Place. Some children can do this quickly while others manage to let time yawn before them, stretching any given task out. Adding a timer to routine domestic chores ensures focused task completion and efficient time management. Those unable to complete the task in the allotted time are given extra practice time with yet another chore, timed of course.


Right after the lesson on Place Values, there are concurrent seminars on Nourishment and the Declaration of Independence. That is, if a child can maneuver to and open the refrigerator, I Declare him/her to be Independent enough to get his/her own breakfast. Also, while the independent young learners are gathering their breakfast, can they make the younger ones and me something to eat too? Now we have even incorporated a lesson on service.


Immediately following is my workshop on “Cleaning the Environment,” also known as put your dishes in the sink and wipe up the table around you. Also, if you have spilled crumbs, go get the broom, gather your offerings in the dustpan, and place them in the trash. Like a game of musical chairs, if you are the one left with trash that just won’t fit into the liner, you get to empty it in the dumpster outside. One lucky child each morning will be chosen to do further studies on Purification by loading the dishwasher.


Soon after that come Horticulture and Early Child Development classes. For the younger ones, it translates to “time to play outside.” For others, it involves learning to identify weeds and carefully collecting these specimens by their roots. This could be mistaken for weeding, so you must be careful not to use that term. Those interested in younger children can monitor their activity and possibly engage their attention with sidewalk chalk or other outdoor toys. There will be a quick Place Values refresher before we come indoors.


Then follows Hygiene, mostly having to do with washing of hands after playing outside, before eating, and after flushing. (Yes, there will be Remedial Flushing for those with severe attention deficiencies.) As a bonus, there will be Technology Training, but this will be reserved for “gifted” children who possess special mechanical aptitude. They will be taught to replenish the toilet paper roll. For others, this skill will likely never be used, and is considered a futile effort, right along with capping toothpaste tubes. Therefore, to preserve my sanity, these are omitted from the curriculum of Camp Ribeiro.


If it is too hot outdoors, we progress to “Treasure Hunting” indoors. This might involve emptying out the kitchen/junk drawer, wiping it down and sorting items into piles. As a reward, loose change can be counted and divided amongst the hunters…(see that math lesson sneaking in there?). For older children, there will be “Exploration and the Value of Open Space.” Basically, this entails opening up mystery boxes that have been designated repositories of junk.


Then there is my Creative Cooking class – how can we use rice/pasta/potatoes to form the base of yet another quick but healthy lunch for a number of hungry children? We can’t figure out a new dish? This is where we combine Thankfulness with Nutrition. Whoever said, “Hunger is the best sauce” probably did not have access to a drive-through for fast food where there are at least five or six different sauces to choose from. A few children will be chosen for this task while others help set the table, straight out of the dutiful dishwasher, and so on and so forth.


After lunch, we rotate tasks so others have a chance to “Care for the Environment” while readers take small children along to read them a story. There might be a chance after that to just relax and play, color, or draw while we listen to a story on tape.


Who knows, if there is free time before starting supper, we might combine Apparel Care (known as folding laundry) while we (gasp) watch a TV show or movie. Just as the entertainment ends, we apply Place Values to Apparel – put away the hanging and folding.


Before you know it, the day is gone, but my brain cells are not. The children will have little time to complain about being bored. All that’s left for me to decide is the camp uniform. What do you think of orange jumpsuits?

Cooking and Kids - Cooking with Kids

Published in The Fauquier Times-Democrat Weekend on June 24th, 2011

My mom always says that the hardest thing about cooking is deciding what to make. Once she visualizes the menu, it all comes together. Correction: It flies together, three burners madly bubbling away with the fourth dedicated to puffing up the hand-kneaded, hand-rolled, hot chappatis that could make a meal in themselves. She always whips together a couple of chutneys on the side in the midst of this culinary tempest: one fiery and the other sweet and tangy. Everything is served up pronto, piping hot, pungent and salivatingly delicious. Here’s another remarkable thing about my mom. The woman cleans up the kitchen as she goes along. When she finishes cooking, you have something that you’re prone to overeat just because it tastes so good, and she has a clean kitchen. When I finish cooking, I have a disaster in my kitchen, and what’s on the plate are the survivors from that wreck.


Alas, I did not inherit my mother’s cooking talents. I may have had a better chance had I spent more time in the creative side of the kitchen rather than specializing, as I did, on the consuming end. Hey, I can appreciate good food. I won’t even turn my nose up to mediocre food either, because that’s how I’ve survived in my own kitchen.


The only hope of cooking salvation is that I’ve pushed my own children into the kitchen every summer, weekend, holiday, and at any other time they appear to be idle. Depending on the child, this can be quite often.


Better were the homeschooling years when you could have some time in the kitchen together “doing” fractions, discussing nutrition, and munching ingredients. We made quite a mess, but we also made some amazing things: our own doughnuts, lollipops, ice cream, even corn chips from scratch. They also made enchiladas, baked chicken, soups from scratch, and big, soft pretzels.


Not every child learned to cook. Some just learned to look busy.


This summer, I am supposed to be living the life of luxury. With school out, I’m not teaching. We have five children largely at home, so I’m not rushing them places. (The eldest daughter, working on campus with a summer internship, has abandoned her role as chief household baker and assistant chauffeur.)


The luxury is that my eighteen-year-old daughter, the second eldest, is cooking dinner every weeknight. Here’s an even bigger boon: she cooks more than four things, so there is something different every night. In my household, this is the dangerous and revolutionary sort of thinking that is bound to cause unrest in the fall. What will I do in the fall when she returns to campus? Last summer my daughter Tevy and I teamed up to teach cooking classes for children at Tagaloo, a nifty little shop that specializes in children’s themed parties and classes for both adults and children. It’s located in Old Town Warrenton.


To tell the truth, the classes, menus, shopping, and planning were all done by my daughter. I was there helping out, taking pictures of the children in their colorful aprons, or working with children as they wrote out the recipes in their recipe books. Basically, I did what I have always done best in the kitchen: assist, support, laugh, and eat.


This summer, as a young adult, Tevy is again offering the cooking classes through Tagaloo. You might be surprised to learn that none of the cooking the children did required the use of a stove or oven. There was cutting and microwaving, and each day had its own theme. The children were taught about nutrition and to clean up after themselves, too. Even children as young as five really enjoyed and benefited from the class.


There was a day of Summer Fun of making fresh squeezed lemonade, a big fruit salad in a watermelon basket; a Mexican Fiesta with fresh guacamole and salsa, a bean and cheese soup in the microwave, and an English tea party complete with hot tea and cucumber sandwiches.


The classes are being offered again this summer. Each is a week long, from Monday through Friday. The July 25th – 29th session is in the mornings from 9:00 – 11:30, while the August 1st – 5th session is in the afternoons, from 1:00 – 3:30. I’ll probably be there as the support crew again.


If you’re interested, give Kimberly Entrican a call at Tagaloo, 540-229-1656 or visit http://www.tagaloo.com/.  

Now you might think to yourself that I have just used this whole column as shameless advertising for my daughter, but that’s not true. I still have the ability to feel shame.

The Big Sigh – Summer is Over

From three years ago, when five kids went off to school, leaving me and the youngest (then two years old) alone at home to fend for ourselves...

If I had had any sense, I would have been like normal moms who are relieved that school has started. I would have planned mid-morning solo shopping excursions or a “coffee with the girls” celebration as we all exchanged the Big Sigh that marks our emergence from the long tunnel called Summer.

In that tunnel, your kids camped (or cramped) around you, while you made constant social connections for them in order to temporarily eject a child or two and enjoy a little extra space. (About midway through your child’s first school year, you realize that he or she has a far more active and exciting social calendar than you do.) There’s no sense in getting jealous over their social appointments; if you’re going to get anything, it had better be the car keys.

The Tunnel of Summer is long, so traversing it without gnawing on each other calls for injections of entertainment along the way. If you can afford to be at home with your kids, it usually means that you ARE the entertainment. “You want to go to the pool…again? Why don’t you kids whip up a batch of cookies instead?” This might explain why the stay-at-home contingent in my family puts on pounds in the summer the way a good hiker packs on gear. By summer’s end, our tunnel is so snug that the first evacuee has to pry the others out.

No matter how short or long a tunnel is, it is sure to be peppered with sibling squabbles. In such tunnels, each spat echoes more. Twice, in separate years and for separate pairs of kids, I have had to enforce a no-communication for a day rule to quash the bickering. (“Don’t look at, play with, or talk to each other!”) But that’s another story.

Somewhere along these annual tunnel tours, it has dawned on me that I am not normal. (Or did the kids implant that idea?) “Mom, why can’t you be normal? Why do you have to be such a hawk, watching what we do all the time?” I realize that watching those home/fashion improvement shows on TLC aren’t entirely deleterious to the teen girl’s health, but why can’t they go and simultaneously improve their room’s décor and their wardrobes by picking up the clothes in their bedroom? Or perhaps they could learn to fix their beds properly, so the fitted sheet isn’t hair-triggered to spring off at the slightest provocation, such as breathing or shutting the door?

And then there are the middle boys, with an uncanny and almost clairvoyant ability to detect every movement of SpongeBob SquarePants on the Nickelodean channel. Not that all TV is bad, but again, that is another story. After the first half-hour’s dose of that poriferan’s million-dollar monotonic laugh, my response is to turn off the TV and have them grab a sponge and bob over to the sink to help with the dishes. (Then it’s my turn to laugh.)

I know this is going to sound old-fashioned, but when my kids are home, I tend to extract work from them. How else did I have time to fritter away, writing silly columns? Maybe that is why I dread summer’s end more than any recalcitrant pupil. All these years, my children have been my labor of love. At this stage, I’m hoping they’ve developed a love of labor.

My seventeen-year-old was Chief Laundress, in charge of getting all the laundry done while the nine year-old was her noble aide, bringing down heaps of dirty clothes and occasionally putting away clean towels. Very often, the noble aide would forget to empty just one hamper…usually that of the Chief Laundress. Too bad we couldn’t have harnessed the sparks that flew; they could have dried an entire load of towels. Ah, it was a summer with no laundry to do and someone else to blame if it wasn’t completely done. (In over twenty years of marriage, I have never been able to accomplish this feat.)

At night, the Chief changed gears and dramatically read aloud stories to the youngest two until everyone else, including parents with such urgent matters to justify offloading all domestic duties onto their kids, stopped what we were doing to listen to Roald Dahl come to life.

Or did I dread the end of summer because my fourteen-year-old daughter loves to cook and had taken over lunch and dinner duties? Of course, there was the small matter of that yearbook debt she was working off. (Her high school yearbook was $85. The first used car my father bought in 1972 cost him $75.) At any rate, this girl has expanded our menu beyond the four things I repeatedly make. Everybody was excited at each mealtime. Was I jealous? Please. I was the most excited one.

Also, for some reason, my second daughter is the only one that my stubborn (oops, I mean “strong-willed”) two-year-old boy listens to. She doesn’t threaten or pinch him to extract compliance - at least, I’ve never noticed any marks. (Just kidding, friendly Social Services people.) It’s just this frightening eye/voice thing she can do that I thought my father had a monopoly on. One night this summer, she extracted Cling-Boy from my body and got him in the habit of going to bed on a schedule. Not only does he now actually go (away) to bed, he even sleeps through the night. Why is everybody smarter than I am?

I miss my twelve-year-old son with all the food allergies who unloaded the dishwasher (sometimes three times in a day) and loaded the breadmaker to prepare his own dinner rolls. He even entertained the two youngest with this original “play” dough. And I also miss my nine-year-old boy who put out all the trash and diligently sorted all the recycling. He would put on puppet shows and make all the voices to delight the little ones. And although there was always an uncomfortable element of danger, the boys could keep my five-year-old girl and the two-year-old terror engaged for hours.

I can’t believe I put my tiny five-year-old who has only just hit forty pounds onto that gigantic school bus. The little guy feels his kindergartener sister’s absence the most acutely. Not only do they share a room (and now a bedtime), they also share a little table for snacks and coloring, and giggles and games all day long. Even if they fought, at least they kept each other occupied.

On the first day of school, when five of my kids headed out the door, excited to see old friends or thrilled to greet new adventures, the little guy and I were left at home with each other to get reacquainted with some household chores. It’s the sudden emptiness and the quiet, together with my now friendless and therefore clingy boy, that feel altogether too much to handle. Left behind to survey the disaster zone left in the wake of everyone’s rush to leave, that’s when I feel the jealous pang.

To be honest, there are certain things I don’t miss: chiefly, the inability of any of these gifted and mechanically inclined kids to replace an expended roll of toilet paper. Who am I kidding? What was I thinking? Summer is over.

My Big Sigh is not from relief; it is one that selfishly misses the kids and their charm, their rascally personalities, and their chaos and commotion. Maybe I should have made plans to take the little guy out or to get together with friends, after all. At least in that, I could have appeared to be normal.

Camp Ribeiro: Cure for "Those Lazy, Hazy, CrazyDays of Summer"

Nat King Cole, when he sang “Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy, days of summer…” must have meant us mothers with children out of school. My observations, made the first week of summer one year while shopping at the place that no one is supposed to admit to patronizing, but one that is mysteriously the largest retailer in the world – would concur, but in reverse order: Moms (like me) trying to get errands done – looking positively “crazy”; temperatures soaring outside (not to mention the tempers of associates besieged by numerous small shoppers inside) – definitely “hazy,” and sullen children, too old to be excited by “helping Mommy do the shopping” yet too young to be left home, listlessly dragging their feet, looking positively “lazy.”

By spring break, my kids really look forward to summer, but for some reason, when it gets here, they dread it. Summer can be a difficult time for working parents when school-aged kids are out of school. Okay, let’s admit it – it can be a difficult time for those of us who have the luxury of being at home too. When I homeschooled my children, I had little understanding of parents being overwhelmed by their own offspring in the absence of the school routine.


Suddenly, there is plenty of time opened up for kids and so many opportunities are available to them. Unfortunately, many of these “opportunities” require bussing your children about and having several loose Franklins around.

But I have a solution to your woes. It is “Camp Ribeiro” and will only cost you $50 a week per child. The class will run from whenever you would like to drop your child(ren) off and will last until you are ready to pick them up.

Here’s how it works: if you will entrust your children to me, I will help you train them to be helpful at home. But since they won’t be in your home, this learning will have to occur in mine. You won’t need to bring them anything: even their food will be included in the fee.

First thing in the morning, we start with Place Values by emptying the dishwasher. Then we walk about and pick up and put everything away. There is great Value in having everything put into Place. As mornings progress, your children will learn time management (because I myself have birthed a slackard or two who can drag this job out till midmorning), so I add a timer to ensure focused task completion and efficient use of time.

Right after the lesson on Place Values, there is a simultaneous seminar on Nourishment and the Declaration of Independence: that is, if your child can maneuver to and open the refrigerator, I Declare him/her to be Independent enough to get his/her own breakfast. Sorry, we are completely out of Pop-tarts and whatever Cookie-Candy-O’s cereal is being pushed on children’s television. Also, while your kid is at it, get something for the little ones who can’t fetch their own breakfast. That brings in our lesson on caring for others and serving one another.

Immediately following is my workshop on “Cleaning the Environment” also known as put your dishes in the sink and wipe up the table around you. Also, if you have spilled, go get the broom, gather your offerings in the dustpan, and place them in the trash. Like a game of musical chairs, if you are the one left with trash that just won’t fit into the liner, you get to empty it in the dumpster. One lucky child each morning will be chosen to do further studies by loading the beloved (but tiny) dishwasher.

Soon after come Horticulture and Early Child Development classes. For the younger ones, it translates to “time to play outside.” For others, it involves learning to identify weeds and carefully collecting these specimens by their roots, also known as weeding. Those interested in younger children can monitor their activity and possibly engage their attention with sidewalk chalk or other outdoor toys. There will be a quick Place Values refresher before we come indoors.

Then follows Hygiene, mostly having to do with washing of hands after playing outside, before eating, and after flushing. (Yes, there will be Remedial Flushing for those with severe attention deficiencies.) As a bonus, there will be Technology Training, but this will be reserved only for the keenest and most observant child(ren), and only those genetically endowed with mechanical aptitude. They will learn to put on a new roll of toilet paper when the existing supply is gone.

If it is too hot outdoors, we will stay indoors and progress to “Treasure Hunting.” This might involve emptying out the kitchen/junk drawer, wiping it down and sorting items into correct piles. As a reward, loose change can be counted and divided amongst the hunters.  (See that math lesson sneaking in there?) For older children, there will be “Exploration and the Value of Open Space.” Basically, this entails opening up boxes that we still haven’t unpacked, eleven months after our move here.

Then there is my Creative Cooking class – how can we use rice/pasta/potatoes to form yet another quick but healthy lunch for a number of hungry children? We can’t figure out a new dish? This is where we combine Thankfulness with Nutrition. Whoever said “hunger is the best sauce” was not only hungry, but also never had probably never had Sriracha Hot Sauce. No, you cannot have a cookie right before lunch, and yes that will help you to be thankful when you do get lunch. A few children will be chosen for this task while others help set the table, straight out of the dutiful dishwasher, and so on and so forth.

After lunch, we rotate tasks so others have a chance to Care for the Environment while readers take small children along to read them a story. There might be a chance after that to play with toys, color or draw while we listen to a story on tape.

Who knows, if there is free time before starting supper, we might combine Apparel Care (known as folding laundry) while we (gasp) watch a TV show or movie. Just as the entertainment ends, we apply Place Values to Apparel – put away the hanging and folding.

Before you know it, the day is gone, and your children will be amazed at how little time they have had to be bored. Who knows? If this concept takes off, I might expand my services to adults. But I’m afraid that will have to wait till the end of summer. And, I might be wrong, but don’t they already have something like that…in state prison?