Learning is fun. But fun is fun, too.

In my family, I'm often chided for being a little too focused on making sure the kids are intellectually stimulated and that the things they're exposed to or involved in have a learning component, even if the "learning" is about kindness, or manners, or the proper appreciation of New Edition songs.

I admit that I do try to take advantage of the relatively few moments I have with my sweeties, because I know their little brains are ripe right now for knowledge.

But we do allow our kids to just be kids -- and even *I* know that not everything in their young lives has to be educational. Sometimes, kids just wanna have fun.

 

Parenting poetry

Lester and I love to learn. In fact, one of the things I love most about my husband is that he tries to learn something new everyday. He reads three different newspapers, pretty much cover to cover (Washington Post, New York Times, Baltimore Sun) and sends me articles he thinks would interest me. Later, when we have time (ha!) we talk about them. It's like newspaper-club, instead of bookclub. And it's really how I stay up-to-date on most of the world's news.

So when we learned that a few top colleges (Princeton, Stanford, U of Michigan and Penn) joined to create an online university that offers courses for free, we jumped at the chance to be a part of it.
 
Through Coursera, you get the chance to study from great professors through video lectures, and collaboration with thousands of others who have signed up. For FREE. How cool is that?


So we, both being writers (at one time in our lives anyway), signed up for a 10-week course on Modern and Contemporary Poetry, by a Penn professor. We'll look at such writers as William Carlos Williams, Lorine Niedecker, John Ashbery, Rae Armantrout, Gertrude Stein, Anne Waldman, Amiri Baraka, Charles Bernstein, Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman. And we'll get to write some poetry of our own.

It starts in September. I'm excited!! Did I mention this is all FREE?

Anyway, to practice, I thought I'd write a little pedestrian piece of poetry about how quickly my boys are growing up and away from me. I never was much of a poet, truthfully. But maybe this class will help me get better.

Storm Door

Music blares from cars outside; children hang, shriek and laugh.

My boys are rapt. 

All I want to do is keep them safe, innocent

With me.

How long will this storm door hold them?