Teaching Latin Roots with Harry Potter spells

I'm about to get my nerd on. You've been warned.


The nicest thing my mom ever did for me was the teach me how to read. Also high on the list was to teach me basic greek and latin language  roots, and the reason is simple: if a person knows basic word roots, that person can decode the majority of words they encounter without a dictionary or being a hard-core etymologist. That's always a plus.

I'm also a fan of learning being painless, and not having my children spending their lives poring over flashcards. Who wants to do that? I never did.

This is where I want to kiss J. K. Rowling on the smacker. Thank you, Mme Rowling, for being so freakishly imaginative and delightful in your attention to every little detail of the Harry Potter world.  Pssst! This is the skip-able part where I'll provide a little  info for all y'all who believe magic is something nasty Satan pulled out of his underwear (it's OK, I won't tease you...too much) or for those who have been perfecting meditation in a remote monastery (an admirable pastime!). A lot of the fantastic curses, hexes, charms and spells from the wizzarding world are based fairly accurately on latin words that reflect the nature of the magic performed. For instance, Aqua Eructo (water, to raise)  is the spell for producing a raised jet or stream or water. Many of them can be broken down and explained with basic latin roots. 

So we like decoding spells. First, we use dry erase markers on windows to explain the basic root and tease out words commonly used in our language which contains parts of said latin roots. Then, I write up several spells (Mirth has most of them memorized from the books already!) and we notice how the root meaning matches the result of the spell! It's way more fun than I just made it sound. :D 

Book dramas for the kinesthetic learner

Today's reading lesson consisted of reading through "Guess How much I Love You" (Lark's choice), helping her recognize letters and sounds, and prompting her through words that follow basic phonetic rules such as "big", "nut", "bed", "in", "up" and the like. Then, we donned some stretchy legging ears and turned our living room into a veritable warren. 

Fun was had by most. Electra would have rather been napping. ;oP

In which she shamelessly destroys Ben Folds songs for her own purposes.

I know I can pop out some freakin' awesome babies,
In fact, I am told that a lot.
Now I know that all the late nights,
Sore nipples and latch work has brought me here

And what on earth could make me grin,
Before I kissed your triple chin
And I know that you are, you are
You are the fluffiest!

What if I'd been born fifty years before you
I'm sure that would be hell on my vag
But then I could have cooked while you nursed on the floor 
Due to the sag. 

And around my wide hips I would spy
Your awesome scrumptious baby thighs
And I'd still know:

That you are, you are
You are the fluffiest.

I love you more than chocolate fudge,
You've got the sweetest baby {pudge}. (It's yummmmmmy....)

Next door there's a kid whose eyes disappear
'Neath his cheeks, nice  and  deep, when he smiles
But to call him cute just does not compute
when I compare him to you my sweet child

I'm sorry I know that's a strange way to tell you how I know
You're the best....

Obviously. :heart: 

But obviously,

You are, you are, you are the fluffiest. ;OP

Rainbow feet.

I've sat down five times to complete this post, but, because I"m a mother of small children, it's just not happening.

This week was a very long week, emotionally, for reasons that have nothing to do with my kids or Barefoot Man. However, being a parent doesn't stop, not even for the heartbroken. There were still dirty bums, still quarrels to sort out, still meals to cook, still a hot car to climb into, still groceries to haul, still piles and piles of laundry to process and still things to teach and learn.

And because this weekend was "catch up" weekend, while Barefoot Man took the older two fishing, the littles and I stayed at home. They napped and watched an endless loop of Dora the freaking Explorer while I worked my ass off. And all I want out of life is an hour to myself in silence.

Lark is currently trying to cheer me up by singing a love song AT me at the top of her lungs. Electra is jabbering away "mamamama" at me while she digs her little pointy toenails into my already raw thighs. Grace cried about me not loving her while I hugged and rocked and cajoled and slathered sweet words on her like icing on a grumpy cupcake until she passed out from the long day (mercifully). Mirth is practicing the 7.5 year old ritual of informing me about facts I just recently taught her as if educating me (this is her way of double checking information, and a bit of a nasty habit ;oP )

I. am. spent.

I've nothing clever to say.

I do, however, have a lovely picture that was the brain child of both Barefoot and I...the footprints were his idea, and the rainbow colors was mine. :O) It's brightening our back doorstep splendidly. We used basic acrylic paint (such as Plaid brand), and will seal them over with a clear outdoor patio sealer. Fun! :)

Language and individual learning pace.

My firstborn daughter started reading words, I kid not, at the age of 2.75. She kind of ruined me for teaching there for a while, because I literally just gave her a general set of rules once or twice, answered her questions, and she took off little a dogged rocket to the moon. She loves finding the word that fits each situation *perfectly*, and is generally undaunted by the fact that they're not commonly used. Lemony Snicket is a particular favorite of hers, because of the non-condescending use of complex language. (Today, whilst playing a round of "find your family member amongst the sea of stalls in the public bathroom, Mirth informed me, "Mom, I'm in the penultimate stall! That means next-to-last!!" I love that she felt the need to explain. ;P) 

 My second born uses language beautifully and descriptively, always with a lyrical lilt to her stories and observations. She has not, however, cared much about the ins and outs of reading up until this year. That would have required sitting still long enough to listen to boring rules. However, through some creative engineering of learning moments involving casual songs and movement, Lark's interest has been piqued and she wants to learn. (I hide in the closet pumping my fists in a silent cheer...books = hours of quiet entertainment) She's almost six. I'll take it. 

She's a VERY kinesthetic learner, and loves weaving art and stories and imagination into her world of words, and this is one of her favorite games: stick the appropriate letter sticky note on the object that contains it's sound. My favorite is the "body parts of your siblings" variation. XoP

In other news, Electra (five months now!) has learned to say "mama" this week! It's the funniest thing to watch someone so little so piping pleased with herself for being able to command mama's immediate attention with a word. Hurrah, wee girl!

Mom's Ransom Box-My take on it.

Once again, another awesomely unique idea is homogenized for the masses by Pinterest. This time, I don't care. The hot summer clutter was getting out of control, and this is working beautifully. I love that it's mutually respectful; you get a chance to earn your stuff back, and my time/energy is also not wasted. Good teaching device. I like it.

**Evil Witch Cackle: It's working, it's woooorking!!!**

Our favorite hot weather activities

We live in a part of the world that translates the word Summer into "burning, oppressive cauldron of hellish doom". Least that paints a charming, lazy picture in your mind, let me assure you: the sun here can be doggedly miserable.

Early last week, we were getting up early and hitting the blueberry fields before noon rolled around and sweat started trickling freely down our backs, and that was cool. We could slide the canoe into the water on the weekend and go fishing in the shade before our skin started to sizzle, and that was reasonable. But this past little while, the afternoons have been around 110 degrees Fahrenheit, and the heat gauge from our oven thermometer informed us sagely that unless we preferred life at a crispy 200 F inside the car, we'd better stay OUT.

So, we've done things indoors. It's been fun inventing ways to not go insane, and I mean that with no sarcasm. Like a snow day, with much, much, MUCH less snow.


One day, we invented a massive "playing doctor" drama, complete with nametags, X rays and a "cast".

The process went something like:

1. Cut old National Geographics into strips. Also cut fabric into looooong strips. Print off most accurate-looking version of a leg-break that matches your pretend scenario. (Ours was a woman walking her dogs and slipping on a banana peel on the sidewalk.)
2. Invent doctor personas. Mirth and Lark went with Bones and House, MD.
3. Enact banana slippage, hopefully without hurting yourself, and be forced to drink about a gallon of "precautionary antibiotics", aka, water with Rescue Remedy in it.
4. Have cloth wound around foot as a protective layer, and then watch "Drs" apply glue-soggy strips on top to form a cast.
5. Endure several episodes of Walking with Cavemen while you wait for it to dry. (If we ever do it again, we'll be rustling up a plastic babydoll with no household responsibilities or toilet needs. )

We also had good times with cheap masking tape. There were several murals and an obstacle course, and the play lasted for an afternoon and an evening until bedtime. (Lark decided a helmet was needed for the obstacle races, "just in case".) I love that masking tape comes off hardwoods without a hitch, and it all comes up in about 4 minutes. Can't beat that for $3.

We also baked cookies in the car. I kid not. They were all the way done after 2.5 hours. (I used a gluten free mix with coconut oil, but I doubt that would effect the results much). The girls were amused, and I was pretty impressed, as well.

about halfway through baking process.