How Do Parents of Large Families Manage? Meet Tal and Talia

On Orthonomics a guest post about Orthodox homeschooling generated the following comment by “l”:

One problem that parents encounter is that in families where there are both older and very young children, the toddlers and infants often require many hours a day of the parents’ care and leave little time left over to work with the older ones.

I think the comment reflects misconceptions both about homeschooling and large families.

When people learn that I have six children they often say, “Wow, I could never do that.” I respond that I didn’t have them all at once. I wrote the following somewhat idealized picture of life as parents of a large family:

Let’s imagine a couple whose first baby is called Noa. A first baby takes up your whole world. Noa’s parents, Tal and Talia, examine every bowel movement with a microscope, count minutes between feedings, and agonize over which toys are most educational. This is not (only) because they are silly, doting new parents, but because they genuinely have a lot to learn about babies. There’s no shortcut for this learning and decision-making process, which continues, more or less, as Noa goes through every new stage of development.

Then little Noah comes along. Noah’s sleep patterns, temperament and bowel movements are completely different from Noa’s, but Tal and Talia already have knowledge and experience. Noa, however, is an active toddler and needs even more attention than Noah. While Noah’s needs can be met by holding and feeding, Noa needs someone to talk to her, read to her, take her outside, prepare her meals and clean up after her, and watch that she doesn’t climb up the bookcase. And she hugs Noah too hard when she thinks no one is looking. So while Tal and Talia thought taking care of one newborn was a fulltime job, taking care of both children together feels like it require superhuman powers.

[So parents with two small children might assume that adding a few older children to the mix would make a productive activity like homeschooling pretty much impossible.]

But this is only the beginning of the story. Tal and Talia adjust to having two children. Talia recovers from the birth, Noah begins to follow some sort of schedule, and Noa grows in her understanding and self-control. Sure, there are crises of all kinds such as illness, a family wedding, and a house move, but Tal and Talia get to know their kids, they learn shortcuts for household chores, and they gain confidence.

By the time little Roni comes along (a girl), things get harder before they get easier. But experience helps, and stages that a four, five or six-year-old undergoes tend to be less draining that baby/toddler issues. Every birth has its challenges, and very fussy babies can throw a wrench into family life. Still, this stage passes. Over the years Tal and Talia begin to work out their parenting style and things fall into a groove.

When the fourth child Ido is born, Tal and Talia are so experienced that they don’t worry so much about the baby. They instinctively pick him up when he cries and change diapers with one hand. When Noa was born, she interacted only with Tal and Talia. But Ido enjoys watching the older children, who can even keep an eye on him for a short time (unless the spacing is very close–I’m assuming a spacing of two to four years after the second child).

Around that time, Talia, who manages the day-to-day running of the household, decides to become much more efficient. She reads up on housekeeping subjects, consults with friends, and makes the required changes. Tal and Talia reevaluate their priorities in terms of time and money–regarding extracurricular activities, housekeeping, schooling, and food and clothing expenses. They make difficult choices, just like every other family.

At some point the balance in the family shifts when Noa can run errands on foot, help significantly with household chores, and share in the care of the younger children. The younger children are growing too–they dress and feed themselves, and manage their belongings. Even if the children are closely spaced, the older children still get to the point where they don’t require so much physical care.

When Noa becomes a teen Tal and Talia have another baby named Amit. The couple can go out for the evening, taking the baby with them and leaving the four older children at home. They have teen issues, but because they are a close family and have been sensitive to their children’s needs all along, they handle them relatively well.

Having a large family is physically and psychologically demanding. Tal and Talia are not as available for social activities. Their lifestyle is different from that of their friends with one or two children. But they do make time for each other and for the activities that are important to them, taking into account their children’s needs. They prepare for the day when their children will be grown.

In a large family, children do not get constant undivided attention. This doesn’t mean that they are neglected. There are two levels of parental care: availability, the level depending on the age and needs of the child, and one-on-one interaction, which occurs less frequently. In a large family some of the children’s needs for interaction are met by the other siblings. And a large chunk of time involves most of the family spending time together, playing or working.

I’ll let my homeschooling readers correct me if I’m wrong, but homeschooling also does not require continuous one-on-one teaching. Most Israeli homeschoolers practice “unschooling.” They don’t follow a set curriculum, but let the child set the pace. They rely on a child’s natural curiosity, providing learning materials when a child expresses interest in a particular subject. But even parents who choose a curriculum-based approach don’t sit with the child for hours on end. They might explain a concept to the child and have him work it out on his own. When a child misses school, how long does it take to make up the material? Two hours at most, and the parent does not need to sit with the child for all that time. Homeschooling is about much more, though, than curriculum, and I can think of many benefits of homeschooling for large families.

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Revisiting the Misgeret, or Is Preschool Necessary

It’s bound to happen at one time or another when you are out with your toddler. Your neighbor asks you the question you were wondering yourself earlier that day, as you tried to talk on the phone while your son climbed the bookcase: “Isn’t he bored at home with you all day? How old is he again? [Insert any answer here.] Shouldn’t he be in a misgeret?”

In honor of my 4-year-old starting gan in a few weeks (we did have an informal two-child playgroup, technically a misgeret I suppose), I share my answers to the suppositions of nosy and rude advice-givers. They don’t deserve a reply. But at times we must address concerns of family members, or, more likely, we ourselves need the reassurance.

• “The child needs to get used to being in gan for half the day.” Or, “She will be behind academically.” When I mentioned to one mother that our three-year-olds would be in gan together the following year, she asked how I could send her when she hadn’t been in gan at age two. According to this theory, children need a year in a misgeret to prepare for the next misgeret.
• [This one is for late talkers.] “Gan will help him learn to talk.” This is just wrong. Children in gan generally spend little time talking one-on-one to an adult. And the less the child communicates through speech, the less verbal attention he is likely to get from teachers. Children develop speaking skills at vastly different ages and unless you have reason to suspect a problem, it’s safe to let them develop at their own pace. Gan will not make a huge difference either way.
• [For olim] “The child needs to learn Hebrew.” Gan-aged, immigrant children still have plenty of time to become fully bilingual. But language is a balance. If your child spends most of her day in a Hebrew-speaking environment, her English vocabulary will be smaller. And vice versa. You can teach him Hebrew yourself, or make playdates with Hebrew-speaking children, to ease the transition. But immigrants to all countries have survived the experience; emotional maturity is more important than language. [My daughter is concerned about this despite more than adequate Hebrew skills.]
• “He needs to play with children his own age.” I question this assumption “milechat’hilah.” The younger the child, the less equipped to compete with others for the attention of adults. Since making aliyah the age of starting group care has lowered, while time spent in care increased. Children learn social skills mainly from their parents, and they can play with other children while parents are present. If all neighborhood children are in gan, they can meet in the afternoon or on weekends. They don’t need thirty hours a week away from parents to learn cooperative play. Unfortunately, preschool for fewer hours is unheard of in Israel. (Let me qualify that–I heard of a gan run by the city of Tel Aviv where you can leave a child on a drop-off basis.)
• “Immigrant children need to develop a tough, Israeli exterior.” (I mentioned this here.) Okay, but at what cost? I read of a doctoral student who spent months observing three-year-olds in an Israeli gan. She reported of a complex social structure that included children bringing treats to appease bullies. The children’s teachers remained unaware. When put into such an environment children may learn healthy ways of defending themselves. Others become aggressive, or conversely, withdrawn.
• “Aren’t you bored?” Mothers are supposed to be doing adult activities, not playing games all day with their children. (See my next point.)
• “Do you sit with her?” I get this all the time; they are asking whether I use worksheets or teach letters and numbers. (I visited a highly-recommended gan where three-year-olds did worksheets each day.) The short answer is no; I enjoy a loose daily structure. We read, play, color, go to the park, run errands, do chores, and meet other mothers and children. The children who are interested pick up letters, numbers and even reading. They play by themselves a good deal of the time while I do “adult” things. In turn, I expect frequent interruptions.
• “Your child is too shy/aggressive/wild/attached to you/disobedient/spoiled/slow/bossy. It’s because you don’t send him to gan.” Every child develops different and has personality problems challenges, even the ones who attend gan. Who doesn’t? But if you keep your child home, you will be blamed for those issues.

Over a million American children are being homeschooled for elementary and/or high school. Surely that puts keeping a two-, three-, or four-year-old at home for another year in perspective.

(I wish I didn’t need to add this caveat: I am not trying to convince parents to keep their kids out of gan, or quit their jobs. I do wish to support parents struggling with this issue.)

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Teaching our children: Modeling is not enough

In my post Trusting Our Children, I wrote about things that children learn on their own. So what do we need to teach them?

I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t have the answers. I can’t, because they will be different for each family. Leora will make sure her children appreciate art and can express anger productively. RivkA’s children have learned about physical fitness and coping with chronic illness. Sephardi Lady will emphasize being satisfied with what one has and sticking to a budget. And that is how it should be. Each of these concepts is important, some are essential, but no parent can give them all equal weight. We emphasize the skills and values that are currently part of our lives, taking into account our children’s temperaments and inclinations. This is a good thing because it makes us a diverse, vibrant society.

I believe that teaching our children involves several elements. The first is expressed in this quote on education by Rav Yehuda Amital: [Hat tip: Hirhurim]

The greatest educational impact is achieved when the teacher is unaware that he is teaching and the student is unaware that he is learning. This is the meaning of “the Name of Heaven shall become beloved through you” (Yoma 86a) — a person through his ordinary conduct should bring about a sanctification of God’s Name, without even being aware that he is influencing others through his behavior. [Jewish Values, 150-151]

As we all know but often forget, modeling is critical. To quote a book blurb I saw recently, who we are is more important in how our kids turn out than anything else. But it’s not enough. We also need to explain to our children what we are doing and why.

Since I just quoted Rav Amital, I’ll give an example from our visit to Yeshivat Har Etzion last week (otherwise known as the Gush). To celebrate its 40th anniversary, the yeshiva invited graduates to visit with their families for the day. There were hikes, shiurim and other family activities. At mincha an announcement was made suggesting that parents take a moment to show their children about the beit midrash. Going to the beit midrash every day is a powerful statement, but if children don’t understand what happens there, the impact is lessened. We have to interpret the world for our children according to our values.

Here’s another example: We model safe behavior by wearing seat belts, and by expecting passengers to do the same. We refuse to drive unless children are properly restrained. But if the children don’t understand why we wear seat belts, the first time they go with a friend’s mother who says, “If you’re sitting in between two people you don’t need one,” they may wonder whether that mother is right. (Kids get these “deprogramming” messages all the time.) So kids need to know that car accidents can happen anytime and anywhere, and that even a sudden stop can cause serious injury.

This concept also applies equally to Jewish rituals; we can explain that waiting between meat and milk reminds us to be compassionate to animals. Or thoughtfulness: “We need to call Grandma when we get home from the airport so she won’t worry about us.”

Another aspect of teaching that we tend to neglect is the “how.” All too often our kids are away when we do chores and errands. When they are with us we tend to compartmentalize activities, as if quality time must involve kiddie entertainment. Then we resent it when we don’t have time for anything else. (That’s another post I’ve been meaning to write.) I find that summer vacation is a good time to teach one or two useful “hands-on” skills.

Below I attempt to categorize the types of things we teach our children. In many cases, setting an example and starting young is all you need, with some reinforcement along the way. This is prescriptive, by the way, not descriptive–I can’t claim to have succeeded in passing on all of these to my children to a sufficient degree. Of course, it’s hard to know for sure until they reach adulthood. And this list is far from comprehensive:

• Safety issues, like crossing streets and using helmets/car seats/seat belts.
• Torah, halacha, prayers, Jewish customs and culture, and Jewish perspectives on big and small questions.
• Learning and love of learning; how to find answers; critical thinking.
• Hygiene, including washing hands, toilet manners, and bathing. My 4-year-old recently decided she wants to take a shower herself, every day. She even washes behind her ears.
• Health issues, such as food safety and nutrition, exercise, sun protection, normal body function and illness.
• Order, caring for objects.
• Character traits like compassion, integrity and generosity. I don’t believe these can be taught directly, but we can model and discuss them.
• Effective ways of expressing emotions and dealing with conflict.
• Everyday skills such as home maintenance, financial management and running errands.
• General behavior and manners. Sometimes I wonder whether we teach children to say “thank you” because we want them to feel grateful and show appreciation, or because we want them to be perceived as well-behaved. The answer will determine our response when they behave “badly.”

Note: Sephardi Lady asked me about learning to talk. To me, speech falls into the category of things that we can trust our children to get on their own. A large group of normal children begin speaking late, and a proper evaluation can help determine which ones need intervention. It can be tricky. When one of my children spoke late, I found helpful information by Dr. Stephen Camarata of Vanderbilt University.

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Preschool Pesach Project: Simplified Haggadah

M., my friend and co-playgroup mother, loves crafts. I thought you might enjoy her latest project.

It started when M. found some “matzah paper” in a store. She cut and folded the thin cardboard, decorated with a matzah pattern, to make the front and back cover of the “haggadah.” On the front she wrote, “Happy and Kosher Pesach.”

She then helped the little girls, aged 4, make and paste different symbols according to the sections of the haggadah. Our 5 and 6-year-old sons were at her house that day, and helped by writing the “text” in crayon.

The first page contains a foil cup, to illustrate the kiddush (sanctification) on the wine:

To illustrate hand-washing, the girls made hand-prints. The karpas is just painted paper, dipped in a shiny bowl of salt-water:
For maggid, the story of the Exodus that is the centerpiece of the seder, they pasted in a book and wrote “Haggadah shel Pesach.” (Pesach haggadah)
Here’s the second hand-print and that matzah paper again.

Maror is more painted paper, and korech is a one-dimensional paper sandwich. My son did not want me to post this picture, because his friend misspelled korech by writing it with a koof instead of a kaf. I promised him that I would let you all know the correct spelling (kaf, vav, resh, kaf sofit).
Here’s the shulchan aruch (set table, for eating the festive meal); notice the fork and spoon. We also have the tzafun (hidden matzah).
You have to lift up the paper to view the afikoman (hidden matzah eaten for “dessert.”)
Here we have another cup to symbolize the wine after Birkat Hamazon (blessing after the meal) and letters cut out from the girls’ painted paper that spell out Hallel (songs of praise). My daughter says her cup was red, so we had to compare her hand to the prints to make sure we brought home the right haggadah. We had.

Here she had them paint over a stencil of Jerusalem, that she happened to have lying around. Doesn’t everyone?

In case you’re as clueless about these things as I am, M made the pages separately (on the clean side of printed pages, of course) and then stapled them back to back, in order, inside the cover.

I thought about writing a post about how to make Pesach if you haven’t started yet, but I don’t know if anyone would find it useful. Have a good week.

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