Mrs. Ule’s Mean and Cruel Summer School began many years ago.
Here’s how to entertain/teach kids over their summer break.
I took a pile of unread National Geographic Magazines to the hospital with me when I gave birth to my third child.
I had a lot of reading to catch up on and I figured the photos would be a good diversion if I couldn’t concentrate on the words.
It turned out to be a prescient choice. A lengthy article about hiking the Appalachian trail caught my imagination and I saw what this new baby, a third boy, and his older brothers could be some day. Hikers. Boy Scouts. Outdoorsmen.
(Girls, obviously, could do this to but at that time females didn’t seem a likely addition to our family. God laughed.)
It all came true, we’ve got three Eagle Scouts (Though we’ve yet to hike the trail).
They’re great hikers and campers, can find anything with a compass, and know how to start fires.
Everyone rests easily when you know a contingent of young men are around and prepared.
I like to think I had at least a small hand in that because of training they received from the much vaunted and teeth-gritting summers they spent in Mrs. Ule’s Mean and Cruel Summer School.
The purpose of the mean and cruel summer school
The school was devised after one too many afternoons watching perfectly capable boys kill aliens for hours on end.
Sure, we lived in military housing and perhaps they thought keeping America safe for democracy was a valuable task, but with the Hawaiian sunshine beckoning and their eyes glazing over, I’d had enough.
Someone needed to do these chores. Somebody, somebody had to, you see, (and for some reason) that somebody turned out to be me. (My apologies to Dr. Seuss).
The curriculum was short that first summer: basic kitchen clean-up, meal preparation, ironing, laundry, and swimming lessons (we used a contractor for that).
Reading was required, television was off until dark and the computer could only be used–one child at a time–for an hour a day each.
(They quickly argued for one hour of play but two hours of observing. We negotiated).
In later years it was expanded to include checkbook balancing, travel arrangements and clothing purchasing, plus school supplies.
Since we did at least two loads of laundry every day, they caught on quickly and, of course, decided they didn’t care how clean their clothes were but would cooperate.
Ironing made no sense. (Indeed, my own three year-old granddaughter just came in and asked, “What are you doing?” She’d never seen an iron before.)
The boys were supposed to learn all the skills they’d need as adults when their mother wasn’t around.
I didn’t get very far with button sewing (why not?) but they did take a few photos from time to time.
Yard work had to be supervised, but they liked some elements of it (climbing on the roof to sweep it clear of monkeypods, which you could then fling at your brothers).
Because we lived in such a terrific spot, they also rode their bikes down to a nearby marina and sail in Pearl Harbor (they had sailing lessons the first summer).
They’d tape golf clubs onto the same bikes and catch a lift to Ford Island on the ferry. Using old golf balls, they’d duff their way about the admiral’s abandoned golf course for a couple hours.
Once a week we’d visit a museum or unusual spot in downtown Honolulu.
Once we rode The Bus just for the experience. Who said summer school was all bad?
What summer be without trips to the library? Mrs. Ule did have one rule: you could read as much as you like.
Even Star Wars novels.
We never did make it to the Appalachian Trail. Perhaps I should suggest it for later this summer.
Well, what would you do if your mother asked you?
How did you spend childhood summers? What was the best part?
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I’ve heard lots about mom’s mean and cruel summer school from my husband. 🙂