Summer Field Trips

Many people look for the signs of the season, but I always go for the sounds. Listen...The peal of the bell, signaling the last day of school? Check. The bounce of a Beach Boys song, blasting from a convertible? Check. The tinkling call of the ice cream truck, and the urges of children pulling their parents to the curb? Check and check. Yes, by the first week of June, I'd heard all the telltale sounds of summer. Well, all except one. But I knew it was coming…

"Mom, there's nothing to do!"

There you go. Summer had officially arrived.

Now, I need to confess a fundamental truth about myself. I am not fond of excitement. Maybe it's because I just don't understand this "free time equals boredom" equation. For me, free time is something to be savored, embraced, and used quietly. Yes, give me a free hour and I'll immerse myself in a scrapbooking project, a Sudoku puzzle, or the latest copy of Good Housekeeping. But my children think such quiet pursuits are, well, too much like school to be fun.

"There's nothing to do," Sean whined, even though he just spent a morning fishing at the local lake. Max echoed his brother's sentiments, and rolled his eyes when I suggested he get a head start on his summer reading list.

I really don't think it's a mom's job to entertain her children 24/7. After all, there's something to be said for learning to entertain yourself. Still, I would hate for my children's "What I Did On My Summer Vacation" essays to be filled with tales of raiding the refrigerator, memorizing the Nickelodeon schedule, and watching "Hello Kitty" videos. And we could use some "together time."

So the next time I heard that "nothing to do" line, I bit my tongue, resisted saying, "Well, you could always clean your room," and instead surprised the kids by responding, "Let's plan a field trip!"

The premise of "Field Trip Wednesdays" is simple, one used by elementary school teachers the world over -- children learn in a variety of ways, so it's important to get out of the classroom and explore the real world. I explained to the kids that each week we'd pick a theme, something that interests them, and plan a week of experiences around it. On Saturday, we'd go to the library to pick up some reading material on the topic (bonus incentive: chipping away at the reading list as well). Mondays would feature a project based on the theme, which could be finished on Tuesday. The mini-lesson would culminate on Wednesday, when we'd take an actual field trip to reinforce the lesson.

The boys were a bit skeptical. "It sounds too much like school," Steven groused.

But Libby embraced the idea. "Let's do chocolate," she suggested. That Saturday, we brought "Charlie and The Chocolate Factory" home from the library for evening reading. On Monday, we explored the Hershey website for the history of chocolate-making. And on Tuesday, we made brownies.

Wednesday, we piled into the minivan for a trip to the Nut Shop, a candy store in town, where the owner treated us to a tour of the backroom operations and a few melt-away samples. (I called ahead. Most local merchants, familiar with that "nothing to do" siren themselves, are happy to accommodate.)

Of course, most of our trips were outside our hometown. We headed to the shore to the Marine Mammal Stranding Center after "Under The Sea Week" (which also included a "Finding Nemo" movie night) and went bowling after our "Energy Week" study. Then I found a website index of factory tours (www.factorytours.com) which inspired trips to the Harley Davidson Motor Company for "Transportation Week" and Snyders of Hanover for "Snack Week."

And yes, I purposely left Thursday and Friday free. After all, kids still need time to fish, chase fireflies, and clean their rooms. Sounds like a plan to me.