Movement and Self-Regulation 

I have spent 20+ years working in the child care field, both studying child development and working hands on with children in all stages of development. Self-regulation has become a big topic when it comes to children and youth these days. It encompasses not only regulating ones emotions, but also regulating ones ability to focus and adjust ones behaviour dependant on the environment and social expectations.

Given the amount of information, noise, electronics and increasing amounts of stimuli children and youth have to deal with these days it's no wonder that they have difficulty processing all of this input.

One of the most difficult groups I had was a group of 7 or 8, 4 year-old boys. I believe there was one or two girls in the mix, but the majority was boys. They needed to be outside for at least an hour in the morning and afternoon and have indoor activities which alternated quiet down time with activities which required physical action. The same is true for toddler groups, which I also worked with for years. It's not surprising that having so much gross motor and active activity helped them to focus and learn, nor is it surprising that studies show that physical activity helps with focus and grades.

Throughout my recent years of study I have run across the work of Dr. Shanker, who has worked with children who suffer from Austim, ADHD, FASD and many other disorders which affect the child's ability to handle stress and learn. In a an article from 2014 he speaks about calming the central nervous system through exercise and movement. The local Child Development Centre often uses the idea of sensory diets, a term coined by Particia Wilbarger, are in effect are movement breaks to help build attention span. This is because movement can centre the nervous system and calm emotions down. I have been told movements such as jumping or movements which provide heavy work within the large muscle groups can bring ones energy and mood up if it's down and down if it's elevated. Other movements such as the chair rocking, which many of us did in Elementary and Highschool (much to the Instructor disgust) actually works to get the spinal fluid moving and help with attention and focus.

So, imagine my elation and then thoughtfulness when on a recent episode of Grey's Anatomy, when Grey makes her sister's "Dance it Out" as they are all stressed and upset with each other. As I recall Grey doing this with Yang in earlier episodes, I wonder, did they know about movement and the central nervous system when they put that in the show or where they just thinking of a fun way to lighten it up? I know I never considered movements effects when years ago I would dance to music as a way to relax and calm, although balancing an occasional glass of wine at the same time can get tricky.

Reference links:

http://www.ottawasun.com/2014/03/22/transforming-tiny-terrors-with-self-regulation-might-change-the-makeup-of-canadas-classrooms

https://www.sensorysmarts.com/sensory_diet_activities.html

In Honour of a Dear Friend

  

Today, I got those typical notifications one gets from Facebook telling you which of your friends have Birthdays. Normally I glance at these and then hit delete, but today I paused, re-read the list and took a moment of silence. Just a moment to think, to remember my friend Audrey. Audrey was one of three people I knew who died last year.

I met Audrey at Piper's Frith Writing Retreat. We were in the same group, the fiction group and Audrey could write. She could write wrote horror in a spine chilling style to challenge Stephen King. Her style was unique and refreshing and her spirit brimmed with life. I remember one night, after the evening readings, she and my cabin mate went back to our cabin and stayed up talking and drinking… wine maybe, until 2 in the morning; swapping life stories and birthing a friendship. That night we each gained those glimpses into each other's lives in ways that are only possible in the insane hours of the night when all inhibitions are waved aside, conversation moves from one thing to another, and a kinship is recognized.

I will never forget the absolutely impish, almost frightening sadistic grin which sprung across her face when she was in the thick of eagerly telling one of her chilling stories (which she began by describing the impish evil grin she would get when composing her best pieces).

Audrey always had so many ideas and plans and things on the go and was totally alive when writing. And I will always miss not being able to share in those things with her, hear her excitement, or see her face in any way but through the expressions etched in my memory from our time together. I am grateful for the small time I got to spend with her and I hope my life brightened her as much as knowing her brightened mine.

Looking through the window onto Piper's Frith (just outside of Swift Current Newfoundland). 

The Birth of the Coffee House Dog

We met, at the coffee shop. Each morning I would end my run hopping up the steps, two at a time, and order 1 chocolate croissant and a triple latte. There is nothing like the smooth heat sliding down your throat radiating heat through your body on a brisk hot morning.

I slipped outside onto the deck, shirt sleeves wrapped around the steaming cup and inhaled, ah.  Plunking my skinny butt down on the steps I unwrapped the croissant, took a bite, and held the rest out. Bouncer snatched it out of my fingers and sat, bun between her paws, nibbling it away.

Bouncer was my name for her as she bounded everywhere she went, a tail wag a second. I scratched behind her ears, sliding my fingers under her blue collar. Good, there was still room to grow. The bell on her neck jingled as she stretched and sat up. 'Not time yet, girl. I have to finish my coffee.' She pawed my foot, giving my arm a friendly kiss, and walked over to sniff the end of the deck. This also was a tradition.

I took another sip of my coffee and looked around. 'Morning,' a blue toque bobbed through the door. 'Morning, and what are you doing?' 'We got hot chocolate, say, is that your dog?' 'where?' blue toque pointed a blue mitt towards the parking lot. 'There, n - wait, yes! Bouncer, bouncer.' I got up and headed down the steps. Bouncer looked up, but kept following behind the red truck driving towards the  road. 'Bouncer!' coffee splashed down the trail in time with my thudding feet, 'Bouncer, come back.' The truck turned onto the road. The bumper catching her front as it peeled off, tumbling her into the ditch.

'Bouncer,' I ran up, panting. The deck of the coffee shop full of spectators waiting as I carried her back, her front leg limp where it had connected with the truck. I hoped it wasn't broken. 

Home (second edition)

Could that be your perfect writing retreat?

What is home can only be defined individually. 

And don't be surprised if it changes over time.

Ponderings of Home

My sons exploring the world through the windows of a fish-head.

I have started a new short story this week and the central focus, so far, explores the concept of home.

Is home a specific place? Is it a person? Is it family or is it being part of a community? How does one define home?

I stumbled on this story by accident when I saw my Grandmother's first name, Audrey, on a book. Memory evoked hearing my Grandfather tenderly referring to her as "Aud," made me wish I could stop by for a coffee.

Once I started writing my thoughts my brain skipped to them moment I first felt I'd come home, except this moment came as I sat in a Bar, in a strange city, surrounded by strangers. To my logical mind this place should have been the opposite of home, so what was this I felt? This is a concept which I've been pondering for years and my idea of home keeps growing and changing. And no, that Bar was definitely not home, but then, that's part of a bigger story.

Thus I have my current story project and I plan on working on it more during July's "National Novel Writing Month (Nanowrimo) Camp".  For those who don't know, this is a smaller version of the National Novel Writing Month event which is held every November and participants get the experience of being put in a cabin with other writers for the month, making a virtual community.

What would you work on if you had a whole month to develop it and a virtual community of like minded writers in which to call home while you did this?

Another Spring...

Aww, here it's a hot summer day..., so it's hard to feel like spring again... But the other meaning of the word might suit our writing hopes quite as well! Look...

This is the second-largest well of my province. If you stand still for a while and look closer at the surface, you can see the sand and sulphur move in places, and how continuously the bubbles are rising from the ground... A curious feeling, actually. Let's find springs!

Writing Spring

Summer in the Yukon is here, although it's only June, come August it will start to cool off and the leaves will start to change. This Spring we tackled the lawn, which had turned mostly to moss and spent a whole week stripping off moss to replant, what a job.

I thought for the word of the day today I would post Spring. I realize I probably posted it before a long time ago, but it might be a good start as I hope to spring back into more writing this summer :)

This photo is from a tree on our lawn. I'm not sure what kind it is, but it gets beautiful small white flowers. I took it last week and they are already out in full bloom this week.

In search of Felix, the dragon

The following is a letter I wrote as part of a writing exercise. Enjoy and have a great holiday season :) 

Dear Santa,

For Christmas this year, I would like it if you could help my dear friend Thomas Thum. Thomas has been keeping me company these days and, of course, would never presume to ask anything of you himself. However, he has himself a very unusual situation and the fact of the matter is that something really must be done about it. 

And so, I thought I would ask if, on your way to our house, you could stop by Stuart Littles and collect Thomas’ green dragon, Felix, so he can return him to his dream catcher, Sedalle. Sadelle has a very tender stomach and needs Felix to roast the nightmares she catches to make them more digestible. At the moment she’s over run with the things and feeling so very sick she’s been puking them out, which causes poor Thomas to have a horrendous sleep. 

Stuart borrowed Felix from Thomas one evening in November, after being almost caught and eaten by a cat on the way to our house! Since then, he’s been too scared bring Felix back and claims that he’s lost him! I personally think he likes having Felix around as protection, which has put us in a bit of a bind. Thomas is too small to safely travel in this snow and I’m to big to fit into Stuart’s house. I thought perhaps, being Christmas and all, that this would be the best solution and that maybe, in return for Felix, you could give Stuart his own dragon for Christmas. 

As usual I will leave some milk and cookies out for you. 

Your friend, 

Léonie 

Non-pareil

"Nonpareil"

Happy to announce we are planning on taking up our series of writing prompts again!

How about using an old-fashioned word like "nonpareil" today? As a name for an equally old-fashioned love cookie covered in coloured beads, to describe a certain script you didn't even know it exists until today, for a unique species of insect, or for an extraordinary moment in time...?

(By the way, this naturally is no Clifden nonpareil, also called blue underwing, or Catocala fraxini. Still I hardly can believe this moment actually happened right in my garden, right this autumn.)

High Time 2

High time in the summit on the way to Skagway, Alaska.

"High Time"...

...to post a new word of the day for our writing!



High time to run and hide?
High time to sit and listen?
High time to hide some eggs?
High time to...?

I wish you Happy Easter (writing)!

Abandoned - twice

Abandoned nearly 100 years ago, Dredge #4, in Dawson City, Yukon Territory, Canada, has become the home of this Raven's nest. Incidentally, one year after this picture was taken the Canadian Government also cut funding to Parks Canada and caused the closure of this national historic viewing site and consequently, unless funding or a private company takes it over, individuals are no longer obtain tours of this important historical monument.

Abandoned

Moment of Momentum

Momentum

Graupel 2

Graupel

How about writing a story including as many words for snow you know in your language?

Roan Horses

Whenever I think of Roan, I always think of horse. I don't know why, but perhaps as a description... the roan, like the pinto or the paint. Here my 3 sons, 10, 7 and 3, with Cindy and Bandit. These were 2 of the three the horses my mother owned when we visited on her ranch in 2005.

Roan

                                          I always marvel at the special colour of Alder buds, somewhere between violet and grey seen from the side lying in shade, more brownish-red in sunlight, like here. I would like to include something roan in a story.