Monday Classes With Mutt and Jeff

In a fit of delirium, I signed Mutt and Jeff up for classes at the local nature center.  
The nature center is gorgeous on the inside, looking like something out of The Hobbit:

The walls are covered with regionally-specific murals (honestly, I've learned more about the valley I live in from the pictures on the walls than I have in the two years of daily life here), there are dozens of stuffed animals posed in realistic situations, and there are live animals of varying levels of ick to keep everyone happy (yes, I'm talking about you, Blue Tongued Skink).


The women who run the classes have planned some fantastic lessons, with a great balance between lecture, hands-on, and creative activities.  Each class has a focusing theme, with the overall purpose of the class series being instruction on how animals survive in winter.


This week's theme was "Insulation", and during the lecture portion, one of the teachers had a bear pelt to pass around for the kids to grope.

Then there were Barred Owl feathers (both primary and down) to pass around, a stuffed squirrel and model nest to observe, and a beaver pelt to feel.  
Most of the sections are kept to that vital 15 minute mark.  With children this young, attention spans seldom last longer than that, so from the lecture section, we moved venues and began our insulation experiment.
Honestly, from the standpoint of someone who has a Masters degree in Education, these lessons are remarkably designed.  Not only did we get up and physically move to the next place, thus giving the kids a chance to move restless bodies, but the science portion of the classes are full of diverse materials to use during the experiment.  Today's experiment, in keeping with the "insulation" theme, involved pairs of kids being randomly assigned two containers (lucky Team Donaldson got assigned pie plates.  Oh goody), then, using the materials in the center of the room, create an insulated nest for the test container.

Here's where I would like to point something out.  When, six months after the birth of Gabriel, we discovered I was pregnant with Jude, I walked around in a sort of haze for a while.  Babies only 15 months apart?  Are you kidding me?  Yes, technically they're three months beyond being Irish twins, but good grief, they're practically only 4 minutes apart.


It's really taken me this long to realize that, at this stage in their lives, anyway, 15 months is a big deal.  Because while Gabriel is very attentive and engaged, as the above picture shows, Jude tends to do a lot of things like this during class:

Bless his weird little heart.  The class specifically cited the age range from 3-9 years old, and they divide the younger kids and the older kids into two groups, but Evil Genius just isn't ready for any kind of structured learning environment.  

well duh, Mama.  

So after creating our insulated nest for our tin pie pan, we went outside (which was barely in the teens), to conduct the next part of the experiment.

Now, this is the only place in the entire class that I wish there was a change in protocol.  While I understand that the results of each student's expiriment will add to the group's knowledge, there are two practical reasons why one may want to cut the spectator portion slightly.

1. It's freezing.  Actually, it's well below freezing, and just sitting around outside, waiting for the group to get to you will result in cold little scientists who quickly lose interest in anything other than hot chocolate.

2. Kids in the 3-5 year range quickly lose interest when there isn't something concrete to focus on, and so they'll start finding better things to fill their time.  Provided these things aren't destructive or harmful, I say let them go, but the ladies leading the class seem to be more comfortable keeping a tighter reign on the kids.  So activities like rock climbing or boot-skating on ice patches are quickly shut down, resulting in increasingly restless kids.

But, like I said, aside from that, the class is great.  And finally the teacher got around to us, and poured liquid jello into our test tin and our control tin.

Which raised morale slightly as Gabriel investigated this strange new development:

While the jello was interacting with the environment, the teachers got the kids together for the hiking portion of the class.  For this hike, each child drew an animal out of a bag, and was instructed to imagine themselves as that animal as they hiked.  What sort of food would they be looking for?  What methods would they employ to keep themselves warm?  What sort of shelter would they use at the end of their day?

Again, a fantastic exercise.  And it would have been great, if Jude hadn't have pulled a chipmunk out of the bag, and Gabriel a coyote.

They stood there for a moment, looking at their animals.  "What does this eat?"  Jude said, looking at his.  

"Oh, seeds and nuts and lichen and such I imagine.  Do you see any of those things?"  I asked.  Gabriel was looking at his.

"Hey!  This is a coyote!"  He said.  I nodded.

"What do they eat?"  He asked.

"Oh, squirrels and racoons and such."  I was already freezing, and mostly wondering how long the kids were going to last in this weather.

"WAIT A SECOND!"  Gabriel yelled, causing several alarmed looks from mothers and teachers.  "DO THEY EAT WHAT JUDE IS?"

So you can imagine how the rest of the hike went for us.  Gabriel kept trying to eat his brother, his brother kept trying to scurry up rocks to get away, and the teachers kept trying to get Jude off the rocks.

We came to Roaring Brook itself, which was mostly frozen and lovely.

Jude looked at it, and asked me if it was water.  

"Yes.  It's water."
"Is it cold?"

"Yes.  It's cold."

"Is it frozen?"

"Yes.  It's frozen."

"Can I go in it?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Can I fall into it?"

At this point I made sure I held tightly onto one of Jude's hands for the rest of the hike.

We stopped by the brook, where the kids were taught about blubber, and two "blubber mittens" were produced.  A bucket of water from the icy brook was drawn, and the kids got to take turns putting their hands into the icy water, while wearing the blubber mittens, to see how warm they stayed.

blubber mittens= Crisco, duct tape, and plastic baggies

Then we headed back to the center, all the kids whimpering and shivering, and waited another 15 minutes while every experiment was individually measured and discussed.

Again, smart in concept, less than desirable in execution.

The group got around to us, where it was discovered that our control had frozen solid, but Gabriel and Jude's insulated nest had managed to keep the second tin slightly warm.

Then, my camera was so cold it refused to take any more pictures, we waited a while longer for the rest of the group to get measured, and then we went inside so the kids could work on their nature journals.

Well, Gabriel worked on his nature journal.  Jude instructed me to write, "SNAKE!  AIRPLANE!"  and then, "MAMA, LOOK AT THIS BOOK, IT'S JUST LIKE MY BLANKET!" as he shoved a copy of "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" in my face.

Like I said- even with a class as well thought out and designed as this one, those 15 months between Mutt and Jeff make a big difference.