The Mighty Morgansia

Every parent has wondered how best to get their kids to clean up after themselves. We model, make clean up songs, play pick up games, cajole, bribe, beg, and threaten. And at the end of the day, we look at the mountains of toys and think, "I could just light it on fire and it would all go awaaayyyy."

Unfortunately, it would come back in the form of birthday presents, Christmas gifts, and the inevitable creep ins that are a near constant reminder of the stuff heavy, responsibility free, consumerist society we live in. But this story is not about that.

It is about my last ditch effort to inspire self-driving behaviors of cleanliness in Espen that resulted in the emergence of the mythical creature and devouress of toys, The Mighty Morgansia.

The Mighty Morgansia made her appearance this year after one too many nights where the number of toys left strewn about exceeded either parents' energy levels for cleaning them up. Over the night, she began to take shape, feeding upon the bodies of untended toys until the morning light showed her swirling form and an ominous proclaimation to Espen.

"The Mighty Morgansia has an endless appetite for toys that are not in their places. She eats them and becomes stronger, looking for ever more toys to fill her belly."

Espen looked interested.

"So, she gets bigger when there are toys? Can you make her disappear forever?"

I thought about that for a minute. Theoretically if there were no toys out for her to eat, she'd just waste away...but that would mean a child would be fastidiously clean forever and I'm betting that's about as likely a spotting flock of unicorns so....

Espen cleared up his toys in a jiffy.

The questions abounded.

"Does The Mighty Morgansia talk to you?"

"Does The Mighty Morgansia eat toy swords?"

"Do you think The Mighty Morgansia would eat my library books if I put them...HERE?"

Over the year, The Mighty Morgansia has been accused of being none other than mom herself, but there is never sufficient evidence to justify leaving toys out, just in case.

I reminded Espen of a key quality of all magical creatures tonite as he prepared his shoes for St. Nicholas's  arrival.

"You know, Boo, all magical beings talk to each other. It's kind of a thing they do."

Espen looked slightly disturbed.

"So if I leave my toys out, The Mighty Morgansia will tell St. Nicholas?"

"Well, it stands to reason that if there are toys out, she'll be here when St. Nick arrives and he's not going to feel too good about leaving gifts if he knows that The Mighty Morgansia is having to hoover them all up because they get left untended, right?"

Her name has never been shortened to just Morgansia. She is The Mighty Morgansia and she is my new best friend.

"Mom," Espen said tonite. "Do you talk to The Mighty Morgansia?"

"Oh yes." I replied."All parents are able to contact magical beings like The Mighty Morgansia and St. Nicholas. We might not be full fledged magic creatures ourselves, but we are like a bridge between this world and the world of magic, just like children."

"But no one else has The Mighty Morgansia at their houses." he pointed out.

"Oh, she has many names to the children of the world." I told him. "All great goddesses do."

Satisfied, he tucked away his last toy, set out his shoes, and went to sleep. 

More or less in that order.

Self-Educating Kids and Lost Teeth

Espen taught himself to swim last week at the North Clackamas Aquatic Center. While I like to think I had some small role in articulating how to move the arms and legs in a reasonable facsimile of a dog paddle and back float, I can't trick myself into thinking I had much to do with it.


The Bear has been swanning around in life jackets for the last 3 years, merrily dousing himself in any body of water available, from glacier lakes to swimming pools, but he could not be bothered to attempt un-supported personal buoyancy until exactly last week. He is 6 years and 3 months old.

Several developmental leaps happened around the same time. He lost his second tooth, the first making its exit in May, much to his delight. His school friends were duly impressed and he was very clear that he wanted to stick the tooth directly UNDERNEATH his pillow. Not in a cutsey box or pillow. Plain and simple was his decree, so the Tooth Fairy didn't have to mess about.

Waldorf education apparently has very clear interpretations of loosing teeth...something about readiness for first grade and ending the first seven year cycles. So magical. Well, needless to say, things are moving in this little man and it's challenging me to re-evaluate just how much I need to insert myself into his learning process.

Essentially, my contribution to his stroke development was to do two demonstrations and then challenge him to see if he could make it across the pool dog paddling without a life vest. Nailed it.
The next expedition involved him gaining mastery with his back float. Also, nailed it. Sure, I encouraged him to push his belly towards the sky and relax his ears into the water, but only twice. Then he took off and was floating around like a seal with his cheeks puffed out, holding his breath for extra loft.

As a sustainability educator, I value the process of experiential learning and the transformation that embodied learning facilitates. The piece that I witnessed activating during Espen's self-taught swimming lessons, was the motivation to take on the challenge of learning swimming...because it was meaningful to him. Why did he want to swim?

It might have been because he was FINALLY tall enough to ride the water slides and it might have been because he wanted to go sailing and knew he couldn't until he learned to swim. Likely it was a crystallization of these motivations and more that I don't know. But it was tremendous.


My aunt, a retired elementary school teacher reflected on it later by saying, "It's those moments when kids GET something, that teachers live for." It truly is powerful to watch someone evolve before your very eyes.

In the spirit of relationship based learning, which often happens over time and with significant struggle, I also witnessed the profound power in connecting meaning with skill building while engaging the ENTIRE body, mind, and spirit.

Espen was ecstatic that he had moved himself unassisted through the water. We shared a profound moment that strengthened out relationship and built memories that will last a lifetime. He inhabited a lived experience of will, skill, and connection bringing about an enormously satisfying change. You couldn't wipe the grin off his face, even though he swallowed a ton of water in the process.

I recall watching an Indian educator, Sugata Mitra discuss the mechanism involved in self-education. Novelty, free-time to explore, encouragement, and working with others led to amazing increases in learning and mastery of everything from history to technology.

The challenge I face in facilitating learning with Espen now is letting go of my agenda and allowing his interest to lead. I remind myself that many of these things are in his life because I exposed him to them and a spark of curiosity was stoked. And some of them were lit by exposure to the larger world, which I have no control over.

Playing with the balance between healthy boundaries and freedom is the constant dance of transformational education. When we step out of the role of managers and overlords and into the place of co-learner, we expose both our vulnerability and our humanity.

Watching Espen launch himself across the water, I was delighted to be a witness to his growth. Our children absolutely need us to encourage them and validate their experiences, to give them consistent boundaries for their safety and mobility through the world we inhabit, and also, to take a step back and observe where their passion leads.

When it does, it is truly outstanding.