#(his name starts with d and rhymes with misbehave)

[the-adventures-of-dave]

My foot has fallen asleep send help

[mathematicianadda]

Mathematical play with young children

I was recently asked for my advice for encouraging maths play with a young child. I should start by saying I’m not qualified to talk about this with authority – I teach mathematics, but to undergraduates. The closest thing I have to relevant experience is playing with my son who is nearly 5, so I can share a little about that.

So how do we encourage mathematical play with my son? I don’t mean to get all philosophical, but what is maths really? Many people think maths is numbers and counting, which is true of course. Maths is built on arithmetic like literature is built on spelling and handwriting, so it’s important but not the whole picture. Maths is also patterns and shapes, structure and order, classifying objects and their properties, … and it can be very playful.

Through nursery and his start at school, I’ve never been concerned with teaching my son things he will later learn at school, because he’s a bright boy and already knowing what the teachers are covering is a recipe for switching off his love of learning and making him misbehave in class. But I think there is a lot that can be done to strengthen his deep understanding in ways that won’t interfere when he comes to learn times tables, or whatever. (There are some caveats here: I’m not totally sure what is on the National Curriculum, and he sometimes plays his own way into curricular topics, as we’ll see with multiplication later.)

I have never done anything very structured. Mostly we played, often following his lead, somewhat inspired by things I’d seen on the #tmwyk hashtag on Twitter. Here I’ll waffle through a few suggestions.

First and foremost: watch Numberblocks on CBeebies. We weren’t big on TV or screens when he was young, and still aren’t really, but Numberblocks is amazing. You must start with episode 1, which introduces number 1, and go from there. Episodes are only 5 minutes long. It quickly introduces numbers 2-5 and then has adventures with them, then 6-10, and so on. It taught him loads about numbers and also gave him a context to understand arithmetic operations. Later episodes gave him a serious interest in big numbers. I suggest you don’t rush through, rewatch earlier episodes if needed before moving on, and definitely watch together and try to talk about the ideas. Look for the numbers around the house. When an episode introduces 3, ask how many groups of 3 things you can find around the house, etc.

I think the best thing we did for him was buy a set of 100 Mathlink Cubes. These are coloured cubes which join together. He used to spend a lot of time playing with these on his own and with us, making the Numberblocks characters and taking them on adventures, counting them, making colour patterns with them, making shapes with them. Then Katie Steckles kindly bought us Kyle D. Evans’ book Here Come The Numbers, which goes into how to arrange numbers in squares and rectangles, and raises the issue of numbers that can’t be arranged like this, even naming these primes. This gave him a really effective way to understand how numbers work. I think it’s good he has developed his own understanding of how blocks can be arranged into squares and rectangles, even if he doesn’t know he’s multiplying. It also gave him marvellous insight into spacial awareness and symmetry by building shapes, copying shapes I’d built, etc. He still uses the blocks, mostly to build space ships for his other toys to have adventures in – always with a lovely pattern of colours and a symmetric shape. He also plays with magnetic tiles, pattern blocks and Cuisenaire rods, but the Mathlink cubes came first.

There’s a concept called number sense, which is an understanding of how numbers work, their order, magnitude, etc. which can be helped by counting objects, asking which pile of objects has more in it, counting things in groups, etc. Sometimes we’d count number blocks, or match other objects to number blocks, or just count objects directly. How many socks does he have? How many teddies are coming to the tea party? etc.

It’s good to practice counting by chanting numbers in order, using books (although books always stop at 10 and I’d always count to 12 because time uses 12 and I don’t want him to have an uncertainty about 11 and 12) or counting objects, and trying to learn that you tap the objects as you count them in 1-to-1 correspondence. He could tell the time to the nearest hour from an analogue clock when he was 2 by recognising which numbers the little hand was between. He went through a period where he loved doing dot-to-dot puzzles, which are about joining the numbered dots in the right numerical order. At one point nursery were keen that he learns he can count abstract things that aren’t physical objects as well, so we used to count processes. How many parts are there to the morning routine (brush teeth, wash face, put clothes on, …)? How many stages are there to cross the road (hold hands, stand at the edge, look one way, …)?

But while you’re counting, you can also talk about the properties of objects and the patterns they form. We have made ‘object graphs‘, which is where you classify things according to some attribute you decide on together and group the objects accordingly. For example, I grabbed a couple of handfuls of Lego and we arranged it by colour (so x axis colour, y axis frequency, though I didn’t use that language). This is exploring the properties of objects and classifying things. Then we counted each group to see which colour we had the most of. We’ve also done the same with different kinds of toys – Star Wars, dinosaurs, cars, etc. You can arrange the same objects using different classifications, which gets into how the same object can have multiple characteristics – this green dinosaur has two legs, but the other green dinosaur has four legs, etc. All this thinking about properties of objects is very mathematical. We used to play I-spy long before he could read by e.g. “I spy with my little eye something that’s red/round/tall/etc.” Again, classifying properties of objects. Just recently, we’ve played with #vehiclechat, which proved to be good fun thinking about definitions and classifications.

There’s a good pair of books called How Many? and Which One Doesn’t Belong? The latter in particular is amazing. The idea is that there are four objects and each has a plausible reason why it could be the odd one out, so there is no wrong answer but it’s just about talking properties and justifying your answer. My son really enjoys coming up with a reason for each of the four objects in a Which One Doesn’t Belong? Recently he has started making his own Which One Doesn’t Belong? puzzles from pattern blocks.

My son made these and asks “which one doesn’t belong? And how many times can you turn them?” He has some pretty strong ideas about what you’re likely to say! #wodb #patternblocks pic.twitter.com/37mQ4wbwG7

— Peter Rowlett (@peterrowlett) May 3, 2020

Apart from this, I am quite serious about maths being interlinked with other areas, especially at this age. We explored patterns by reading poems or story books and talking about words that rhyme, and making up nonsense words that rhyme with real words, etc. He asked what it is called when two words rhyme at the start, so he became a little boy with a good sense of alliteration. We’d play games on the walk to nursery where we’d take turns to say a word and the other would have to say a word that rhymed or alliterated with it. One day I told him about palindromes and he became obsessed, spotting them, inventing nonsense palindrome words, etc. This playing with language is good for his language, of course, but also it’s about patterns and properties, so it’s building that good foundation on which maths can grow.

This is just some rambly thoughts, but I hope it was interesting and helpful.

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[victoodles]

Nicknames and Late Night Dances

Hey! It’s my first RDR2 story! I’m working on more but I hope you like this one. I don’t know how this works but if you like my work and wanna send me requests, I’m down for pretty much everything. Xoxo gossip girl! Find it here on AO3

Warnings: Nada :)

The gang’s hoots and hollers could be heard from Valentine all the way to Saint Denis. A celebration with no rhyme or reason, but still just as spirited. With the uncertainty that there would ever be a sunrise to come, everyone partied as if heaven’s gates would be waiting for them bright and early the following morn.

Drinks were plentiful as generous portions of booze were passed from one hand to the next; leave no cup high and dry. Arthur nursed his beer slowly as he observed his ragtag family, mentally preparing for the shenanigans that would soon follow-the ever dutiful guardian.

Everyone was up to something, rambunctious as always. Sean made pitiful, lecherous passes to a drunk Karen, who responded in kind due to her excessive inebriation. Dutch was sitting with Molly, a familiar grip on her thigh as they sipped on finer liquor together; Miss O’Shea was too highbrow for whatever the commoners drank. Lenny and Hosea recklessly played “five-finger fillet”, which to no one's surprise, ended with sliced hands and hearty laughs at their blatant stupidity.

Javier sat by the fire, casually playing his guitar as people sang-some slurring-dirty songs in tandem with his strumming. Amongst the jovial crowd was you, cheeks pink from one drink too many and your voice louder and prouder than the rest.

Color Arthur surprised that a usually dignified lady such as yourself was bellowing filthy tunes with the likes of Uncle and Swanson. He quickly found a familiar tint adorning his cheeks, similar to yours, and he couldn’t pin the blame on the alcohol this time around.

Arthur was constantly enamored by you but seeing you like this, unrestricted by the commonalities of a society you had long abandoned, he found you even more captivating than before. With a lopsided grin and the fire casting delicate shadows upon the contours of your face, Arthur committed the image to memory so he could immortalize it in his journal later that night.

He hadn’t even realized he was starring, something he was usually hyper aware of, but with the flames emitting such an enchanting glow that continued to envelope you, he felt himself spellbound.

As if starlight had come to life, was the first thought that came to mind; he mentally reprimanded himself for sounding like such a lovestruck fool. Although despite that, he found no shame in admitting to himself that all those pretty poems you and Mary-Beth tittered about could never hold a candle to your beauty.

Too lost in his own head, Arthur hadn’t realized that you had looked up to meet his lingering gaze. Now exposed, heat quickly crept up the back of his neck as your smile widened and you proceeded to eagerly wave him over to the campfire. His feet acted before his mind could catch up and he started in your direction, not before taking an excessive swig of his drink in a sad attempt to calm his nerves.

While Arthur lacked the liquid courage, you on the other hand had enough of it for the both of you. The whiskey you’d been sampling had sent a warmth blooming through your entire body, weakening the shyness that usually reared its ugly head around Arthur. You were a well-spoken, educated woman but your feelings for a certain Mr. Morgan had reduced you to a blushing, bumbling mess.

���My lady,” Arthur said affectionately and he tipped his hat to you, “everyone,” he acknowledged the rest of the group with considerably less enthusiasm. The men responded in kind, grunting their hellos.

Almost as soon as he arrived, you had hopped up from the log you were perched on to meet Arthur, beaming at him even more now that you were in his presence.

Having your inhibitions assuaged thanks to a healthy dose of Uncle’s personal booze supply, you wrapped your arms snugly around Arthur’s sturdy shoulders, catching the usually stoic outlaw off guard.

“Ar-tie,” you singsonged, rather loudly; you had no idea where this newfound nickname had come from but your drunk alter ego seemed to enjoy throwing all formalities to the wind. Arthur’s eyes widened, his blush clearly visible as he found himself in your warm embrace.

A universal silence fell over the circle, Charles and John trying to contain their snickers as they eagerly awaited for the rest of this sickeningly saccharine scenario to play out.

Arthur sputtered pathetically as he tried to process the entirety of this overwhelming situation that he quickly found himself in.

You were so close to him, a distance he previously would’ve considered improper especially with a lady of your caliber. But now, with alcohol fueling both of your systems, he wasn’t so sure he could bring himself to care.

He could faintly make out the scent of wildflowers in your hair-a mix of lavender and honeysuckle. How could someone who lived amongst criminals and was constantly surrounded by depravity smell so sweet?

Your hypnotic aroma was almost enough to make him forget about your ridiculous shortening of his name-almost.

“Artie?” he asked incredulously. He was a hardened criminal, the secondhand gun and leading enforcer of the Van der Linde gang. A bad man. And here you were, drunk and without a care in the world, calling him something not even Jack had thought to come up with. You pulled back from him, much to his dismay, with a faux-pout pursing your lips.

“Yes, that’s,” you paused to lightly bop him on the nose with your index finger, “you.” The rest of the gang had abandoned any form of subtly as unrepressed chortles could be heard from practically everyone around the campfire.

Little ol’ you was making the infamous Arthur Morgan, a man with a bounty of over five thousand dollars, more flustered than a common schoolgirl. They weren’t naive to his feelings towards you, keeping to themselves lest they want to meet the business end of his wrath. But this was too hysterical to ignore, and they felt safe making jests at Arthur’s expense with you in tow.

“Artie why don’t you sit down with us,” Javier offered cooly, the smirk tugging at the edge of his lips practically giving away his teasing undertones. Arthur was about to retort when he was cut off by Uncle’s loudmouthed interjection.

“Yeah Artie, my boy, you look a lil’ red in the face! Take a load off and enjoy the company of the fine mistress called whiskey,” he whooped, slapping his knee as he keeled over from a fit of laughter due to his own witticism.

Completely oblivious, you laughed alongside the other men as you linked arms with a disgruntled Arthur. He scoffed in response to this incessant mocking, quickly tossing back the rest of his beer to alleviate his rapidly increasing heart rate as you continued to move closer to his side.

Your attention soon diverted from the conversation to Dutch’s gramophone, a gentle melody emitting from it and drifting up to the moon above. Excitement took ahold of your heart and in turn you took ahold of Arthur’s hands, the joy radiating from you almost palpable.

“Artie,” you chirped, earning another wave of sniggers, “dance with me!” It wasn’t so much a request as it was a demand, as you already started tugging him towards the music’s origin.

“D-dance?” he stuttered. He wasn’t known for his charm and grace and yet despite that, you were asking this of him anyway. And who was he to deny you of anything you wanted?

But at the risk of making an even bigger idiot of himself in front of you, he couldn't help but hesitate. You noticed his apprehension and turned towards him, hands on your hips in a stern fashion similar to Abigail before she’s about to scold Jack for misbehaving.

“Yes dance, silly,” you chided, resuming your place around his arm before softening your expression again. “Do you not want to dance with me, Artie?” you said sullenly; the sad look you gave Arthur was irresistible and almost impossible to refuse.

He sighed heavily, shooting daggers at the men ogling the two of you from around the fire and then returning his attention back solely to you, ready to concede to your wishes.

“As my lady commands” he said, ushering you closer to Dutch’s tent by the small of your back-always the gentleman. The two of you stood next to the gramophone, the record idly spinning as it produced a pleasant rhythm.

Arthur extended his hand and you excitedly gave yours in turn, not expecting such a soft kiss from his chapped lips to grace your senses. Your flush was amplified by his chivalry and you bowed your head in response, like a true lady of high society.

His arm found a comfortable place around your waist and the two of you began swaying in an almost perfect tempo to a song unknown to the both of you.

With the entire camp peering at this tender moment between you, the only audience you two acknowledged were the stars twinkling faintly above.

Arthur surprised you with an elegance and poise that could be expected of a Saint Denis socialite, but still making it an experience that was uniquely him. You giggled as Arthur clumsily twirled you around before bringing you back towards him, your chests mere inches apart. He cocked an eyebrow at you in mock accusation at your sudden outburst.

“You are full of surprises, Sir Artie,” to which Arthur let out his own hearty chuckle for the first time that night.

“I’m no sir, my dear lady. Just trying to please.”

“And you are doing a fine job, cowboy,” you purred, putting extra emphasis on your last word and catching his attention for yet another time that same evening. It seemed to be a talent of yours and he had no qualms about your skills. A nickname, so suitable for him, sounded absolutely perfect coming from you.

“No more Artie?” he questioned with a humorous tone, giving you another spin. He was never one for dancing, but with you, it came as simple as breathing. You smiled at him mischievously, daring to lean in closer. He didn’t object.

“I was just teasin’, didn’t mean to make you sweat cus’ of it,” you admitted.

To be perfectly honest, you didn’t take into account the backlash from the rest of the gang that would result from your drunken roguery. But you were tired of letting your lack of confidence get in the way of pursuing a man who you held such a deep level of admiration for. Right now, you had absolutely no regrets about any of your actions.

Arthur laughed again, a lovely yet rare occurrence. “Well no offense taken darlin’, despite those buffoons I’d say this evening ended quite pleasantly.”

With that, he dipped you gracefully as the music gave one last bombastic crescendo before its grand finale. A majority of the gang awarded the two of you with a hearty round of applause, but Arthur paid them no mind.

Gently, he pulled you back to him as you both regained your composure. He looked down at you fondly, brushing strands of hair that came loose during your dance back behind your ear. Even disheveled, you were still a marvel to behold in his eyes.

Your gazes were locked to one another, fingers still intertwined. Arthur, bless his heart, was unsure of how to end this beautifully intimate encounter. He had already taken so many risks tonight, and if said risks weren’t related to some sort of gang heist, then it meant he truly was taking a leap of faith outside of his realm of expertise.

You could practically feel his frantic heartbeat thrumming against your own chest. Feeling bold, a hand found its way up to his neck and you stood on your tiptoes to place a single kiss on his cheek yet dangerously close to the corner of his lips.

As quickly as you gave it, you retreated in hopes of seeing his earnest reaction and you were not disappointed. Almost baffled, his free hand lingered where you had kissed in an attempt to reaffirm he wasn’t dreaming. You placed your hand over his, and gave him a loving smile that almost knocked him off his feet.

“You know where to find me later,” was all you said as you sauntered away, his line of sight following your form as you leisurely strolled back to your tent.

Another moonlight dance was definitely in store.