"Fish out of water"
"Stegosaurus"
"Ankylosaurus"
And the most fearsome of them all... "Turkey".
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Afternoon Art
"Fish out of water""Stegosaurus""Ankylosaurus"And the most fearsome of them all... "Turkey".
Friday, February 27, 2009
Instant jacket removal
The boys both got new coats for the winter. I got Joey a beautiful blue one with matching snow boots because his old coat was getting small and the lining had disappeared (and rather unusually, has yet to turn up). Andy's new coat appeared after Christmas, because his old coat, which had been Joey's old coat and going strong for 4 years and through two boys, finally gave up the ghost (washing it had no effect on the filthy look, all the velcro had been pulled off, and Andy's wrists stuck out of the sleeves). Grandma found him a lovely red one, one of those fluffy down ones. Very warm, and it would crush better to make getting him in his car seat easier.
All was well until Andy decided he didn't like coats. Specifically, he realized it was easier to get into his car seat without one, and when you aren't wearing a coat in a car seat, your back doesn't get sweaty. Also, I think the weight difference was a factor- his old coat, being one of those lovely 4-in-one coat systems (I'm not being facetious. I love those 3-in-one and 4-in-ones: buy one coat, wear it the whole year round, just wear the parts you need! Totally, totally, awesome) had some weight and thickness to it that his new coat lacks. He's happy to wear it as an actual buffer against cold, but he's figured out that the car, once warmed, is, well, warm.
And now that's been generalized. The minute he hops into the car, he's stripping off his jacket. The temperature makes no difference; even if it is freezing, he knows that in about ten minutes, the car will be warm. The fact that he'll catch his death in those ten minutes without a coat is of no interest to him in the slightest. This from the child who, up until three short months ago, insisted on having any jacket with a hood worn with the hood upon his head. Even indoors.
It also makes no difference which jacket he is now wearing. It was warmer than usual the past two days, so I pulled out the sweatshirts. I thought the weight might also encourage him to keep it on. No dice. Open door, hop in, remove jacket. It's a ritual now, ingrained into his the pathways and set on automatic. Open, hop, remove.
The teachers at his school, who have to put him in my car and strap him into his seat, find this very odd. They are busy trying to get him wrestled into the seat quickly, and he's trying to remove his jacket, which he wore for all of a half-dozen steps between the door and my car. She actually chuckled this morning, "Poor guy. If they come with a jacket, we have them wear them home; even if its just for ten seconds!" I was glad for the implication that my child isn't the only one to hit the car and strip.
All was well until Andy decided he didn't like coats. Specifically, he realized it was easier to get into his car seat without one, and when you aren't wearing a coat in a car seat, your back doesn't get sweaty. Also, I think the weight difference was a factor- his old coat, being one of those lovely 4-in-one coat systems (I'm not being facetious. I love those 3-in-one and 4-in-ones: buy one coat, wear it the whole year round, just wear the parts you need! Totally, totally, awesome) had some weight and thickness to it that his new coat lacks. He's happy to wear it as an actual buffer against cold, but he's figured out that the car, once warmed, is, well, warm.
And now that's been generalized. The minute he hops into the car, he's stripping off his jacket. The temperature makes no difference; even if it is freezing, he knows that in about ten minutes, the car will be warm. The fact that he'll catch his death in those ten minutes without a coat is of no interest to him in the slightest. This from the child who, up until three short months ago, insisted on having any jacket with a hood worn with the hood upon his head. Even indoors.
It also makes no difference which jacket he is now wearing. It was warmer than usual the past two days, so I pulled out the sweatshirts. I thought the weight might also encourage him to keep it on. No dice. Open door, hop in, remove jacket. It's a ritual now, ingrained into his the pathways and set on automatic. Open, hop, remove.
The teachers at his school, who have to put him in my car and strap him into his seat, find this very odd. They are busy trying to get him wrestled into the seat quickly, and he's trying to remove his jacket, which he wore for all of a half-dozen steps between the door and my car. She actually chuckled this morning, "Poor guy. If they come with a jacket, we have them wear them home; even if its just for ten seconds!" I was glad for the implication that my child isn't the only one to hit the car and strip.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
On the Playground
We had an interesting encounter at the playground today. A boy ran up to Joey saying "I know you!" Joey was very happy to see him, though it took Joey a minute to acknowledge him. Then Joey realized there was also another child from school whom he knew. Joey tried very hard to play with these boys. However, they were playing some kind of make-believe involving swords (maybe Star Wars?) and at some point in the play, probably because Joey couldn't follow what they were doing, they started running away from Joey whenever he approached them (had they decided to make him the villain, perhaps?) Joey became very upset that these boys kept running from him. Finally, as I was trying to intervene and get Joey to calm down, he said, "I don't like them running away from me. It hurts my feelings. I am going to go tell him."
And that is exactly what he did: "Don't run away from me. It makes me feel sad!"
I was so proud of him.
Unfortunately, the boy responded, "You can't tell me what to do!" and ran away. The two boys also kept inviting Joey to play when he gave up and tried to do other things, then running away from him, which I thought was a little odd when he had so clearly told them he didn't like that. I don't know if they meant to be upsetting to him, but I finally packed the boys up and took them home.
And that is exactly what he did: "Don't run away from me. It makes me feel sad!"
I was so proud of him.
Unfortunately, the boy responded, "You can't tell me what to do!" and ran away. The two boys also kept inviting Joey to play when he gave up and tried to do other things, then running away from him, which I thought was a little odd when he had so clearly told them he didn't like that. I don't know if they meant to be upsetting to him, but I finally packed the boys up and took them home.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
What the Fly Hears In Andy's Room at Night
Once upon a time, there was a T-Rex, stomping through the woods, stomp stomp stomp stomp. He saw some bubbles in the trees, and followed them because they were so pretty. He found his good friends, Blue Lizard, Red Lizard, and Green Lizard. They were blowing bubbles and having a great time. They asked T-Rex if he wanted to blow bubbles.
"Yes, thank you!" said T-Rex, and the Lizards gave him a bubble wand and he blew bubbles. Then he found a treasure chest, right there in the middle of the woods. It probably belonged to some pirates. He opened the chest, and it was full of pirate swords.
"These probably belong to a pirate," T-Rex said. A pirate ship sailed up full of pirates. Well, there was one pirate. And T-Rex gave him the treasure chest full of pirate swords.
"Thank you!" said the pirate.
"You are welcome!" said T-Rex. They gave each other a sweet kiss, and the pirate sailed away with his treasure chest in his pirate ship.
Then T-Rex saw a dragon, flying across the sky. It was a baby dragon, and it was orange. He flew down to the ground.
"I want my mommy!" said the dragon. T-Rex helped him find his mommy. They looked all around. They went to Fox's house, but the Dragon's mommy was not there. And they went to Mouse's house, but the dragon's mommy wasn't there. And they went to spider's house, and dragon's mommy wasn't there, either. then T-Rex looked and he saw lots of dragons, and there was dragons mommy. Then were dolphins and gulls all around. And there was a mommy dolphin, and two baby dolphins, and they were dancing.
"Let's play!" said mommy dolphin. "Let's dance!" So the bay dolphins danced with their mommy. She gave them lots of kisses. They gave her lots of kisses. Then one of the dolphins hid.
"Where is the other one? " said the baby dolphin.
"I don't know," said mommy dolphin. then the other dolphin leaped out and shouted "surprise!" and surprised the mommy dolphin. And they all got kisses.
"Good night, my babies," said mommy dolphin, and she gave them kisses.
"Night night!" said the baby dolphins. "This is my bed!" said one baby dolphin. "No, it's my bed!" said the other baby dolphin. So mommy dolphin had to give them both more kisses and tuck them into bed, where they fell asleep.
The end.
"Yes, thank you!" said T-Rex, and the Lizards gave him a bubble wand and he blew bubbles. Then he found a treasure chest, right there in the middle of the woods. It probably belonged to some pirates. He opened the chest, and it was full of pirate swords.
"These probably belong to a pirate," T-Rex said. A pirate ship sailed up full of pirates. Well, there was one pirate. And T-Rex gave him the treasure chest full of pirate swords.
"Thank you!" said the pirate.
"You are welcome!" said T-Rex. They gave each other a sweet kiss, and the pirate sailed away with his treasure chest in his pirate ship.
Then T-Rex saw a dragon, flying across the sky. It was a baby dragon, and it was orange. He flew down to the ground.
"I want my mommy!" said the dragon. T-Rex helped him find his mommy. They looked all around. They went to Fox's house, but the Dragon's mommy was not there. And they went to Mouse's house, but the dragon's mommy wasn't there. And they went to spider's house, and dragon's mommy wasn't there, either. then T-Rex looked and he saw lots of dragons, and there was dragons mommy. Then were dolphins and gulls all around. And there was a mommy dolphin, and two baby dolphins, and they were dancing.
"Let's play!" said mommy dolphin. "Let's dance!" So the bay dolphins danced with their mommy. She gave them lots of kisses. They gave her lots of kisses. Then one of the dolphins hid.
"Where is the other one? " said the baby dolphin.
"I don't know," said mommy dolphin. then the other dolphin leaped out and shouted "surprise!" and surprised the mommy dolphin. And they all got kisses.
"Good night, my babies," said mommy dolphin, and she gave them kisses.
"Night night!" said the baby dolphins. "This is my bed!" said one baby dolphin. "No, it's my bed!" said the other baby dolphin. So mommy dolphin had to give them both more kisses and tuck them into bed, where they fell asleep.
The end.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Communicate The Way You Know How
We've been having some trouble with Joey. This isn't a huge surprise- spring is here, the weather is all over the place, the light is changing, the world takes a shift for Joey- his sensory needs tend to shift about now, he tends to be trying to process things more and have a harder time with processing about now. The frustration level goes up. Behavior- like any child- also goes a little haywire.
OUr latest campaign is teaching Joey to use words to tell us how he is feeling. The idea is to teach him instead of showing us his feelings by screaming, hitting, slamming doors repeatedly, tracking, and other behavioral ways, he should use words to communicate his feelings. We've been encouraging him to understand different relationships and the roles of people in his life, and how his words can be used to communicate his needs to these people. We've let him know we want to know how he feels, and he can always use his words to tell us how he feels. Instead of fidgeting with things on the teacher's desk, he should say, "I am uncomfortable. I am frustrated. I need a break."
Sounds good, doesn't it? Except you never know what a child hears. How is Joey interpreting what we are telling him, trying to teach him?
Joey got sent to Ms. T this week. The reason? An accumulation of behaviors that was becoming increasingly disruptive. Use of rude words (such as his favorite, "wiener"), putting marks on other children's charts towards "timeout", giving teachers checks, saying other children are responsible for his behaviors, and other inappropriate outbursts. This is very worrisome, as we are trying to keep him in inclusion settings, and these kinds of loud, inappropriate behaviors can get him sent back to self-contained environments. Fortunately, our school personnel- especially Joey's teachers- have been very understanding and willing to try to help him. However, a trip to Ms. T is a bit of a trauma. Joey gets upset when his classmates get sent to Ms. T, so to find himself in her office... well, he's a bit upset. Besides, Ms. T tends to raise her voice, so we've gotten a lot of shouting this weekend (and lots of "Ms. T is loud!")
How to help him? What is going on? What has happened to get Joey so out-of-sorts? Where is my Deerstalker and pipe?
My mom had an absolute brainstorm of brilliance. She's good like that. What if he has taken what we are teaching him- use words to express feelings- absolutely to heart? Instead of lashing out, he is saying words that, to him, express his feelings? After all, that is how Joey uses language- he attaches feelings and meanings to words and phrases, and uses them to convey those feelings and meanings, even when the words have nothing to do with the moment. What if he is using this tool of words to "give himself a break"- to get out of an uncomfortable situation?
We keep urging him to communicate, and to use words to communicate. Perhaps he has generalized that lesson in his own way?
OUr latest campaign is teaching Joey to use words to tell us how he is feeling. The idea is to teach him instead of showing us his feelings by screaming, hitting, slamming doors repeatedly, tracking, and other behavioral ways, he should use words to communicate his feelings. We've been encouraging him to understand different relationships and the roles of people in his life, and how his words can be used to communicate his needs to these people. We've let him know we want to know how he feels, and he can always use his words to tell us how he feels. Instead of fidgeting with things on the teacher's desk, he should say, "I am uncomfortable. I am frustrated. I need a break."
Sounds good, doesn't it? Except you never know what a child hears. How is Joey interpreting what we are telling him, trying to teach him?
Joey got sent to Ms. T this week. The reason? An accumulation of behaviors that was becoming increasingly disruptive. Use of rude words (such as his favorite, "wiener"), putting marks on other children's charts towards "timeout", giving teachers checks, saying other children are responsible for his behaviors, and other inappropriate outbursts. This is very worrisome, as we are trying to keep him in inclusion settings, and these kinds of loud, inappropriate behaviors can get him sent back to self-contained environments. Fortunately, our school personnel- especially Joey's teachers- have been very understanding and willing to try to help him. However, a trip to Ms. T is a bit of a trauma. Joey gets upset when his classmates get sent to Ms. T, so to find himself in her office... well, he's a bit upset. Besides, Ms. T tends to raise her voice, so we've gotten a lot of shouting this weekend (and lots of "Ms. T is loud!")
How to help him? What is going on? What has happened to get Joey so out-of-sorts? Where is my Deerstalker and pipe?
My mom had an absolute brainstorm of brilliance. She's good like that. What if he has taken what we are teaching him- use words to express feelings- absolutely to heart? Instead of lashing out, he is saying words that, to him, express his feelings? After all, that is how Joey uses language- he attaches feelings and meanings to words and phrases, and uses them to convey those feelings and meanings, even when the words have nothing to do with the moment. What if he is using this tool of words to "give himself a break"- to get out of an uncomfortable situation?
We keep urging him to communicate, and to use words to communicate. Perhaps he has generalized that lesson in his own way?
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Strategy
"iapeng-in!" Andy waddles, then flaps his arms and runs. I suppose he is a penguin underwater, instead of on land.
"I am yellow! I am Bus 30! If I hit you, you will break!" Joey vrooms, turns the plastic ring he calls a steering wheel and zooms through the first floor after the penguin.
What Joey means is he is going to play chase. This is a favorite boy game,especially during the Witching Hour. Unfortunately, it can go horribly wrong during the Witching Hour, as they get tired and annoyed with each other, with their communication hurdles, and with the determination and differing wills of each other. For example, one wants to play penguin and the other wants to play bus. That is going to annoy each other, as opposed to two boys playing penguins, or two boys playing buses.
But I worry about what those words could mean if he uttered them in school, with no interpreter handy. How would his very real fear of being hit by a car be handled? Would it be interpreted as a threat?
Both boys end up crashing into the couch. Someone stubs a toe. Someone else gets annoyed about the two different games. I hug my boys, and they are off again, a bus in one direction, a penguin in another. They run into each other. It's an accident, but the results are explosive. I have to close my computer completely and get the boys engaged. We jump on the trampoline. We play a round of Feed the Kitty (a great game!) Joey gets onto his computer to play some games. Andy wants to watch some Sesame Street. The dust settles. Andy works on some of his art, darted between the kitchen art table and the living room where Sesame Street plays, constant motion.
Distract and engage. Diffuse the frustration, redirect attention, provide opportunities for success. It may not always work, but it is always worth trying.
"I am yellow! I am Bus 30! If I hit you, you will break!" Joey vrooms, turns the plastic ring he calls a steering wheel and zooms through the first floor after the penguin.
What Joey means is he is going to play chase. This is a favorite boy game,especially during the Witching Hour. Unfortunately, it can go horribly wrong during the Witching Hour, as they get tired and annoyed with each other, with their communication hurdles, and with the determination and differing wills of each other. For example, one wants to play penguin and the other wants to play bus. That is going to annoy each other, as opposed to two boys playing penguins, or two boys playing buses.
But I worry about what those words could mean if he uttered them in school, with no interpreter handy. How would his very real fear of being hit by a car be handled? Would it be interpreted as a threat?
Both boys end up crashing into the couch. Someone stubs a toe. Someone else gets annoyed about the two different games. I hug my boys, and they are off again, a bus in one direction, a penguin in another. They run into each other. It's an accident, but the results are explosive. I have to close my computer completely and get the boys engaged. We jump on the trampoline. We play a round of Feed the Kitty (a great game!) Joey gets onto his computer to play some games. Andy wants to watch some Sesame Street. The dust settles. Andy works on some of his art, darted between the kitchen art table and the living room where Sesame Street plays, constant motion.
Distract and engage. Diffuse the frustration, redirect attention, provide opportunities for success. It may not always work, but it is always worth trying.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Yummy Lunch
Joey had off school today for President's Day- and Andy didn't. So I got to hug and squish my Joey all to myself for a few extra hours! We didn't do anything super-special; it was pretty cold, and lots of stuff was closed for the holiday. We went out to cheer up Grandma, and played some video games, and took a ride. We took Grandma to a store where she bought chocolate and flashlights for the boys. She wore out pretty quick, so we dropped her off after we picked Andy up, and I took the boys to lunch.
Taking two small boys to lunch by yourself can be a challenge, especially if the restaurant of choice is a salad bar place. Fortunately, we are well-known at the place, so they were happy to seat us next to the bar and in the window, so everybody could get food without leaving small boys unattended.
And we proceeded to have the Perfect Lunch. Joey got his mac and cheese and green beans and sat down. Andy got his lettuce, dip, pickles, cheese, bacon, and butter, and sat down. I got my salad together, and we had a lovely lunch. Our lunches came, and the boys buckled right into their chicken strips. Food was actually consumed. We talked about Andy making a hat at school. We talked about it being President's Day. We talked about George Washington, and that he was born at the farm we frequent, and spent his youth across the river from our house. We talked about President Lincoln being the 16th president and being born in a log cabin (something Joey needs to know for SOL tests). We played tic-tac-toe on our placemats. We got ice cream for dessert, with sprinkles. The boys spent the time eating it practicing signs and Spanish (well, Andy practiced his Spanish).
They were so lovely and charming, the elderly couple sitting next to us actually came over and told us so.
How's that for a yummy lunch?
Taking two small boys to lunch by yourself can be a challenge, especially if the restaurant of choice is a salad bar place. Fortunately, we are well-known at the place, so they were happy to seat us next to the bar and in the window, so everybody could get food without leaving small boys unattended.
And we proceeded to have the Perfect Lunch. Joey got his mac and cheese and green beans and sat down. Andy got his lettuce, dip, pickles, cheese, bacon, and butter, and sat down. I got my salad together, and we had a lovely lunch. Our lunches came, and the boys buckled right into their chicken strips. Food was actually consumed. We talked about Andy making a hat at school. We talked about it being President's Day. We talked about George Washington, and that he was born at the farm we frequent, and spent his youth across the river from our house. We talked about President Lincoln being the 16th president and being born in a log cabin (something Joey needs to know for SOL tests). We played tic-tac-toe on our placemats. We got ice cream for dessert, with sprinkles. The boys spent the time eating it practicing signs and Spanish (well, Andy practiced his Spanish).
They were so lovely and charming, the elderly couple sitting next to us actually came over and told us so.
How's that for a yummy lunch?
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Midnight Meandering
Ah, the boys are asleep, I have finally finished my online class discussion boards (over 200 messages to answer! Yikes!), and here I am. Not asleep. I am an idiot.
I have checked the locks on all the doors. I've been doing that with more diligence, now that Joey comes down and plays on his computer in the middle of the night, or early in the morning, or times when we're asleep. Just what we would need is for him to get a wild hare and decide to go out and play. What will we do when he gets older and can work the locks? Mom has suggested I go talk to the police department about him now, before there is trouble, in case trouble begins. On my "to do" list for the week. There only needs to be a problem once for it to be a serious problem. Perhaps I ought to look into GPS, in case his wandering gets more serious. He knows where he is going when he runs, but we don't. Finding him in the middle of the street again would be Not Good. Especially at four in the morning.
With spring comes another bumpy patch for all of us. Traditionally, Joey gets wild hares this time of year, as the winter fades out and spring comes on. Maybe it is a change of light and weather. Maybe he is tired from being in school. Maybe all the odd days off- teacher work days, holidays, snow days- add up to confusion for him. Maybe he just gets a little crazy before making a leap forward in development (a leap we usually have in late spring). Maybe he leaps forward because whatever is going on now resolves. I've been so proud of him, with his spelling bee, and his wonderful job at his dance concert. I wonder if these things are more of a challenge this time of year, or if these activities help get him through the rough time. He was so happy yesterday, flapping his butterfly wings in his Bolivian folk dance. He was even in time to the music when he clapped and stomped, a big deal for Joey (who is often half a beat behind in such things.) My baby is growing up.
Andy has a bumpy patch about now, too- allergies. Andy and I took Grandma to the doctor's today. Andy and I needed our ears checked because on top of the lingering cough, we now have headcolds. Well, actually allergies, according to the doctor. My poor mom has inflamed lungs from coughing so long. It would be lovely if we could all just take some nice long naps and get all better. That includes you, my friends. All of us. Let's have a big Group Nap. Or maybe a Nap-In. We could protest the lack of sleep due to fighting with schools and government agencies for services the law says it is our right to have for our loved ones or for ourselves. A big Nap-In. Then we can all wake up and have the big Bake Sale.
I think I may have wandered off-topic. Sorry.
I have checked the locks on all the doors. I've been doing that with more diligence, now that Joey comes down and plays on his computer in the middle of the night, or early in the morning, or times when we're asleep. Just what we would need is for him to get a wild hare and decide to go out and play. What will we do when he gets older and can work the locks? Mom has suggested I go talk to the police department about him now, before there is trouble, in case trouble begins. On my "to do" list for the week. There only needs to be a problem once for it to be a serious problem. Perhaps I ought to look into GPS, in case his wandering gets more serious. He knows where he is going when he runs, but we don't. Finding him in the middle of the street again would be Not Good. Especially at four in the morning.
With spring comes another bumpy patch for all of us. Traditionally, Joey gets wild hares this time of year, as the winter fades out and spring comes on. Maybe it is a change of light and weather. Maybe he is tired from being in school. Maybe all the odd days off- teacher work days, holidays, snow days- add up to confusion for him. Maybe he just gets a little crazy before making a leap forward in development (a leap we usually have in late spring). Maybe he leaps forward because whatever is going on now resolves. I've been so proud of him, with his spelling bee, and his wonderful job at his dance concert. I wonder if these things are more of a challenge this time of year, or if these activities help get him through the rough time. He was so happy yesterday, flapping his butterfly wings in his Bolivian folk dance. He was even in time to the music when he clapped and stomped, a big deal for Joey (who is often half a beat behind in such things.) My baby is growing up.
Andy has a bumpy patch about now, too- allergies. Andy and I took Grandma to the doctor's today. Andy and I needed our ears checked because on top of the lingering cough, we now have headcolds. Well, actually allergies, according to the doctor. My poor mom has inflamed lungs from coughing so long. It would be lovely if we could all just take some nice long naps and get all better. That includes you, my friends. All of us. Let's have a big Group Nap. Or maybe a Nap-In. We could protest the lack of sleep due to fighting with schools and government agencies for services the law says it is our right to have for our loved ones or for ourselves. A big Nap-In. Then we can all wake up and have the big Bake Sale.
I think I may have wandered off-topic. Sorry.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Current events
Wow, exciting life here. The weekend weather was so beautiful, we were having too much fun enjoying it to spend lots of time at the computer. The boys got to go to the park and play with lots of other kids, including some friends from school. they had such a good time that Andy was sad when we stopped a the park yesterday, and no one was there (they were all in school!) We have one more beautiful day coming before the cold returns. We're going to make the most of it.
The boys went to the dentist today. We've been not hurrying to take them, because we haven't had dental insurance, among other issues. It was definitely time, now that we have decent dental insurance. Good news- we've been brushing their teeth with those motorized toothbrushes- the only ones they will let us put in their mouths- and it has paid off. No cavities! I think they actually had a good time, but I'm not sure. I wasn't allowed to go with them. I did warn them about they guys when I made the appointments, so they were prepared. Also, I only use the dentist office I know to be the best in town- not just the great dentist, but great support and reception staff. If you're in this area, there is no other place to go.
The boys got balloon dogs as rewards. They of course promptly popped, causing some natural melty episodes. However, I think they left with a positive dentist experience.
Tomorrow I have our first pow-wow with Mrs. Huff about next year, and the issues with history and social studies this year. Mostly next year- making sure we are on the same page about what we want for Joey, the settings we are looking for, and talking about the teachers she has already interviewed. We want no real surprises at the IEP.
Thursday Joey has a school concert- a dance and music performance. I'll let you guys know how that goes. The camera better be working.
Full plates here. But I'll keep checking in when I have a breath.
The boys went to the dentist today. We've been not hurrying to take them, because we haven't had dental insurance, among other issues. It was definitely time, now that we have decent dental insurance. Good news- we've been brushing their teeth with those motorized toothbrushes- the only ones they will let us put in their mouths- and it has paid off. No cavities! I think they actually had a good time, but I'm not sure. I wasn't allowed to go with them. I did warn them about they guys when I made the appointments, so they were prepared. Also, I only use the dentist office I know to be the best in town- not just the great dentist, but great support and reception staff. If you're in this area, there is no other place to go.
The boys got balloon dogs as rewards. They of course promptly popped, causing some natural melty episodes. However, I think they left with a positive dentist experience.
Tomorrow I have our first pow-wow with Mrs. Huff about next year, and the issues with history and social studies this year. Mostly next year- making sure we are on the same page about what we want for Joey, the settings we are looking for, and talking about the teachers she has already interviewed. We want no real surprises at the IEP.
Thursday Joey has a school concert- a dance and music performance. I'll let you guys know how that goes. The camera better be working.
Full plates here. But I'll keep checking in when I have a breath.
Friday, February 06, 2009
Schedule changes
Joey finished Fast Forward today (Thursday), a day earlier than we anticipated. This means that he begins his new schedule begins today (Friday). Another change.
The good news is we start with 35 minutes less of Mrs. A tomorrow, instead of Monday. She just hasn't been a good fit for my child, and perhaps that is as far as I should now discuss the matter. 35 minutes less there means 35 minutes somewhere that will be a good fit. Specifically, he will get extra 1:1 time working on language arts, social skills, and subjects he needs extra support on, such as social studies. Time is a funny thing for Joey. He is fascinated by clocks, analog and digital, and by time and telling time, and has been for over a year. However, the idea of past and history completely elude him. And I don't mean in the normal, kid-has-trouble-imagining-life-different sort of way; I mean it completely eludes him. The abstract idea of "once upon a time" gives him a lot of trouble, trying to wrap his mind around it. Some more focus will probably help, it usually does. He is good at knowing where he is supposed to be when, but asking him what he did last week- issues.
Joey is usually very good with change, as long as he has a clear idea of what is expected when the change comes. Giving him some warning- even if it will just be this evening and tomorrow morning- will help a lot. Sudden change, not so good. However, we've now shifted his school schedule twice. Winter/early spring is a funny time for Joey, he tends to get ready to "spring" in development (read: we get a huge uptick in anxiety and ritualized behaviors and then mid-spring we see him move forward. All that processing!) This could be a bit of a hairy patch ahead. I think I will stock up on Joey's favorites: popcorn and diet orange Sunkist.
The good news is we start with 35 minutes less of Mrs. A tomorrow, instead of Monday. She just hasn't been a good fit for my child, and perhaps that is as far as I should now discuss the matter. 35 minutes less there means 35 minutes somewhere that will be a good fit. Specifically, he will get extra 1:1 time working on language arts, social skills, and subjects he needs extra support on, such as social studies. Time is a funny thing for Joey. He is fascinated by clocks, analog and digital, and by time and telling time, and has been for over a year. However, the idea of past and history completely elude him. And I don't mean in the normal, kid-has-trouble-imagining-life-different sort of way; I mean it completely eludes him. The abstract idea of "once upon a time" gives him a lot of trouble, trying to wrap his mind around it. Some more focus will probably help, it usually does. He is good at knowing where he is supposed to be when, but asking him what he did last week- issues.
Joey is usually very good with change, as long as he has a clear idea of what is expected when the change comes. Giving him some warning- even if it will just be this evening and tomorrow morning- will help a lot. Sudden change, not so good. However, we've now shifted his school schedule twice. Winter/early spring is a funny time for Joey, he tends to get ready to "spring" in development (read: we get a huge uptick in anxiety and ritualized behaviors and then mid-spring we see him move forward. All that processing!) This could be a bit of a hairy patch ahead. I think I will stock up on Joey's favorites: popcorn and diet orange Sunkist.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Wordless Wednesday: Fur babies
For our lovely, patient girls, Luna and Ellora, who are learning to accept Momma's kittens.
And in memory of our Puma Girl.
And in memory of our Puma Girl.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Developing
Ah, things keep moving along here. As we start our preparations for next year, we begin our information gathering, organizing the data and analyzing all the clues for what we will need. Two boys. Two whole systems to meet their needs.
We are starting the process of determining appropriate placements for Joey for second grade. Mrs. Huff will be interviewing teachers, looking at rooms, considering options. All the special ed kids are required to complete a program called "Fast Forward." It usually takes a few years to do. Joey will be done this week. this will give us another 35 minutes a day to work on his goals, his social skills, and subjects he is lagging in (especially history).
In the meantime, I have started the ball rolling for Andy. I have contacted the school to start Child Find again, alerted our OT, and have a parent who is going to let me peek at her son's 504 for sensory dysfunction. I hope to get an idea of what kinds of things can be included in a 504.
So, moving right along. I'll keep you posted.
We are starting the process of determining appropriate placements for Joey for second grade. Mrs. Huff will be interviewing teachers, looking at rooms, considering options. All the special ed kids are required to complete a program called "Fast Forward." It usually takes a few years to do. Joey will be done this week. this will give us another 35 minutes a day to work on his goals, his social skills, and subjects he is lagging in (especially history).
In the meantime, I have started the ball rolling for Andy. I have contacted the school to start Child Find again, alerted our OT, and have a parent who is going to let me peek at her son's 504 for sensory dysfunction. I hope to get an idea of what kinds of things can be included in a 504.
So, moving right along. I'll keep you posted.
Sunday, February 01, 2009
An afternoon walk with the poop
We took the boys out to Wakefield for a stroll in the pretty weather, as it promises to become icky later this week. The sunshine was abundant, the eagle was winging about the river, the sheep were out, and it promised to be a glorious walk.
At ages 6 and 4, boys have a strange fascination with bodily functions. I don't remember girls being that interested in poop. However, my guys- and many boys I have met- are mesmerized. On a working farm, there is no shortage of poop about. Sheep poop. Horse poop. Cow poop. We even saw a little pig poop. And apparently, "poop" is a fun word to say when you are 6 and 4. Poop, poop, poop. The sheep were upstaged by their own poop.
So we rambled along, and came upon the beautiful magnolia tree, the pods scattered over the craggy roots, where the boys like to climb and play. JoeyAndyDad and I stopped upon Joey's command and watched them scramble happily over the tree.
And then JoeyAndyDad said, "Look! Tree poop!"
Yes, it was an instant hit. Tree pods and nuts are now tree poop. That's one way to make a nature walk a success.
We stopped into the colonial kitchen to look around. Joey has been having trouble grasping the concept of past and history, and that people did things differently and lived differently. So we popped our heads in and I asked them what they saw that was different from our kitchen at home. Andy noticed butter churns. I pointed out that there was no stove or oven, just a fireplace. JoeyAndyDad noted that there was no refrigerator. Joey noticed there was no mac and cheese.
Then we went back to exploring, and Joey slipped and fell. He's been doing that a lot more, as we have been missing OT sessions (Get better, Ms. Janene! We miss you!). He was very upset, because it was a muddy spot, and he got a lot of cold mud on his pants.
"Oh no!" he wailed all the way to the blacksmith's shop. "A cow pooped me! A cow pooped my pants!"
We managed to distract him by having him sit down for a little and catch his breath, then promising a peek at the pigs. Joy of joys, we wandered out (avoiding the poop) to see the pigs. Fortunately, there was one out in the pig yard to see (sometimes there isn't, especially in winter.) Then we wandered back to the trees (avoiding the poop, but pointing out every lovely pile) and took a rest on a bench. Andy found a walnut (more tree poop), and discovered some mole tunnels. When I told him what they were, he was delighted. He likes moles.
And so we wandered back to the car. We saw ducks diving on the river. We saw vultures playing in the air currents overhead. And we rolled the tree poop down the hill and giggled. A good time had by all.
At ages 6 and 4, boys have a strange fascination with bodily functions. I don't remember girls being that interested in poop. However, my guys- and many boys I have met- are mesmerized. On a working farm, there is no shortage of poop about. Sheep poop. Horse poop. Cow poop. We even saw a little pig poop. And apparently, "poop" is a fun word to say when you are 6 and 4. Poop, poop, poop. The sheep were upstaged by their own poop.
So we rambled along, and came upon the beautiful magnolia tree, the pods scattered over the craggy roots, where the boys like to climb and play. JoeyAndyDad and I stopped upon Joey's command and watched them scramble happily over the tree.
And then JoeyAndyDad said, "Look! Tree poop!"
Yes, it was an instant hit. Tree pods and nuts are now tree poop. That's one way to make a nature walk a success.
We stopped into the colonial kitchen to look around. Joey has been having trouble grasping the concept of past and history, and that people did things differently and lived differently. So we popped our heads in and I asked them what they saw that was different from our kitchen at home. Andy noticed butter churns. I pointed out that there was no stove or oven, just a fireplace. JoeyAndyDad noted that there was no refrigerator. Joey noticed there was no mac and cheese.
Then we went back to exploring, and Joey slipped and fell. He's been doing that a lot more, as we have been missing OT sessions (Get better, Ms. Janene! We miss you!). He was very upset, because it was a muddy spot, and he got a lot of cold mud on his pants.
"Oh no!" he wailed all the way to the blacksmith's shop. "A cow pooped me! A cow pooped my pants!"
We managed to distract him by having him sit down for a little and catch his breath, then promising a peek at the pigs. Joy of joys, we wandered out (avoiding the poop) to see the pigs. Fortunately, there was one out in the pig yard to see (sometimes there isn't, especially in winter.) Then we wandered back to the trees (avoiding the poop, but pointing out every lovely pile) and took a rest on a bench. Andy found a walnut (more tree poop), and discovered some mole tunnels. When I told him what they were, he was delighted. He likes moles.
And so we wandered back to the car. We saw ducks diving on the river. We saw vultures playing in the air currents overhead. And we rolled the tree poop down the hill and giggled. A good time had by all.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Planning the Future
For those of you who don't know, I am already starting to think about and plan for school next year. Yes, now. Actually, I'm a little late getting my butt moving.
The season is now officially open, as the subject was actually broached by Joey's teacher, Mrs. Huff. She is starting to look at second grade teachers and settings so that Joey can continue being in the "regular" classrooms for his reading, math, science, and social studies, and possibly move into "regular" setting for writing, too. She was apologetic about wanting to keep him for a couple of hour for language and social skills... I wasn't sorry. I know she's going to have a boatload of new kids next year- as many as eight, plus the four she has now- but perhaps having some group social skills would be a good thing. The bad thing about this possible scenario is I may have to put together a case for him to keep Macy, since she would be needed back in the autism room if there is going to be eight new kids there. There's just no money to hire extra aides.
In broaching the subject about Joey, and how we looked forward to keeping him "mainstreamed" (he loves having so many friends!), we also mentioned Andy. To be frank, Andy isn't going to need "special education." We've worked hard to make it that way. However, his enunciation is still not right. He has sensory issues. He is going to need some eyes on him that know what they are seeing. Otherwise he's going to be labeled a discipline problem, just as he was at our first preschool.
It isn't easy thinking about 504 plans on top of IEPs, but I will definitely keep you posted about the process. I think I may poke around and make sure I'm talking to the right folks first. But this weekend, I'm looking to exactly what a 504 plan is and how is works, and what it would mean for us. It is my understanding that 504s are more difficult to enforce (there's no force of law as there us with IDEA), so do wish us luck.
The season is now officially open, as the subject was actually broached by Joey's teacher, Mrs. Huff. She is starting to look at second grade teachers and settings so that Joey can continue being in the "regular" classrooms for his reading, math, science, and social studies, and possibly move into "regular" setting for writing, too. She was apologetic about wanting to keep him for a couple of hour for language and social skills... I wasn't sorry. I know she's going to have a boatload of new kids next year- as many as eight, plus the four she has now- but perhaps having some group social skills would be a good thing. The bad thing about this possible scenario is I may have to put together a case for him to keep Macy, since she would be needed back in the autism room if there is going to be eight new kids there. There's just no money to hire extra aides.
In broaching the subject about Joey, and how we looked forward to keeping him "mainstreamed" (he loves having so many friends!), we also mentioned Andy. To be frank, Andy isn't going to need "special education." We've worked hard to make it that way. However, his enunciation is still not right. He has sensory issues. He is going to need some eyes on him that know what they are seeing. Otherwise he's going to be labeled a discipline problem, just as he was at our first preschool.
It isn't easy thinking about 504 plans on top of IEPs, but I will definitely keep you posted about the process. I think I may poke around and make sure I'm talking to the right folks first. But this weekend, I'm looking to exactly what a 504 plan is and how is works, and what it would mean for us. It is my understanding that 504s are more difficult to enforce (there's no force of law as there us with IDEA), so do wish us luck.
Friday, January 30, 2009
F-o-t means "I'm tired!"
Ah, the spelling bee. Thirty-six kids. Each spell a word. Then we start again. How long does it take 36 kids to spell one word?
Through this lovely adventure, all the children not spelling a word are expected to sit in a chair and be silent. This is not Joey's strong suit. Come to think of it, it isn't Andy's, either.
All things considered, Joey did spectacularly well. When you think that this time last year, there was no way he could have sat in a chair for fifteen minutes, then gotten up, gone to a microphone, listened to someone ask him to spell a word, and then spell it, it was downright miraculous. Add on top the fact that they do a practice round before beginning the real bee, and you wonder how on earth he did what he did, even with divine providence on his side.
He lasted five rounds, plus the practice round, and threw in the towel on the sixth round (so he got six words right.) On that seventh word, it was pretty clear he was done. Fidgeting was way up, he was getting out of his seat to spin, he was being grumpy with people helping him, he was tired and ready to go. So when asked to spell "vote", he got up and spelled "F-O-T." He turned and waited for the bell (indicating a misspelled word), then turned to his aide (who was allowed to be with him on stage), and according to her, whispered, "Vote. V-O-T-E. Vote! I wasn't paying attention!" Now, this last has become a formula for "I am messing up on purpose!" She was upset that he threw the word on purpose, but you know what? We've been trying to teach the child to self-regulate all year. I'm not going to complain when he actually does it.
I learned some about spelling bees, and have some ideas for next year (such as, they let other contestants get up to use the bathroom, why can't Joey get up to have a walk-break?), and I think Joey did have fun with it. All in all, I am just busting proud of him. He did a great job!
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Polar Bears
Joey had a project to do for his science class this week: he had to do a project about animals. The project had to mention what covered the animal (fur, feathers, hair, etc.), whether it lived on land or in the water, and what appendages it had (arms, legs, tails, claws, etc.)
Joey decided to do his project on polar bears. I suspect this may be related to the fact that the same class has been collecting change to adopt an arctic animal, and polar bears were one of the choices (I think I'm also sending in change for a walrus.) I tried to get him to google polar bears, but that met with limited success. So we went down to the library and got a real book. We took about four days to read the book, because the easy first-grade-level book was checked out, so we went for the third-grade book (and hey, since he can read that level, why not?) So he read, and we talked about it, and talked about it, and I worked on getting him to learn something new from his reading.
Next, he needed to decide what the project would be. At first he wanted to do a poster, so I had him look at a bunch of pictures of polar bears, pick some, and we went to Walmart and printed them out together. But on the way home, he got a bright idea- he wanted to write a story. So no problem, we made a book.
Each page I had him glue a photo, then write a sentence about polar bears. He was so proud of himself, he read it to me at bedtime. Then he read it to Andy. Then it read it to me again.
And now, for your reading pleasure, I present to you, Polar Bears, by Joey Guyton!
Polar Bears
By: Joey Guyton!
Polar bears live in the Arctic.
polar bears live on the land and in water.
Polar Bears eat seals of meat.
Polar Bears Have paws! (and claws.)
Polar bears' fur is clear.
Polar bears have black skin to keep them warm!
polar bears have cubs!
Joey decided to do his project on polar bears. I suspect this may be related to the fact that the same class has been collecting change to adopt an arctic animal, and polar bears were one of the choices (I think I'm also sending in change for a walrus.) I tried to get him to google polar bears, but that met with limited success. So we went down to the library and got a real book. We took about four days to read the book, because the easy first-grade-level book was checked out, so we went for the third-grade book (and hey, since he can read that level, why not?) So he read, and we talked about it, and talked about it, and I worked on getting him to learn something new from his reading.
Next, he needed to decide what the project would be. At first he wanted to do a poster, so I had him look at a bunch of pictures of polar bears, pick some, and we went to Walmart and printed them out together. But on the way home, he got a bright idea- he wanted to write a story. So no problem, we made a book.
Each page I had him glue a photo, then write a sentence about polar bears. He was so proud of himself, he read it to me at bedtime. Then he read it to Andy. Then it read it to me again.
And now, for your reading pleasure, I present to you, Polar Bears, by Joey Guyton!
Polar Bears
By: Joey Guyton!
Polar bears live in the Arctic.
polar bears live on the land and in water.
Polar Bears eat seals of meat.
Polar Bears Have paws! (and claws.)
Polar bears' fur is clear.
Polar bears have black skin to keep them warm!
polar bears have cubs!
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
In the Snow
Yes! Snow at last! We got right up and out into the glorious white stuff. It has become a rare treat around here, so just a quick pre-breakfast, then out into the morning!
After a glorious fifteen minutes, they were both back inside. Apparently the snow is too cold to make snowballs. So then we had hot chocolate and eggs and bacon, and warmed up. Then we got ourselves back together, and I decided a walk might be more in order than freeplay. There were some folks sledding, but no one wanted to loan a sled, so we headed over to Aunt Christina's and warmed up with Max and Charlie and Jack. On the way, we looked at the snow falling, and tossed snow at the trees, and made sure we stayed away from any cars sliding by. On the way back, the snow was wet enough to pack into little snowballs. So we threw them at each other.
We played out front until Andy got cold. We actually got a little snowman together- a mini-snowman. Very cute. Then we came in for chocolate-chip pancakes for lunch. All that fun, and its just lunch time. I'll keep you posted!
Added: We've popped the corn, baked the cookies, and even had yummy chicken pieces for dinner. Another round of snow play. I now have two tired little guys... but now it is sleeting. Yuck.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Syllabi Blues
I know I created a whole other blog for my professorial snarkiness to get it off this blog, which is supposed to be about my kids and parenting issues, but seriously, I am at wit's end, you are my lovely online family. Chin up, and skip it if you aren't interested in Teaching Blues.
When I was in college- and honestly, folks, it wasn't that long ago- a syllabus was one, maybe two pages long. It included the name of the class, an overview of the lectures and what reading you were expected to do, a list of contact info for the professor, and what actual assignments would be. It kind of looked like this:
Art History Class You Will Love
Meets twice a week at this location
Professor ReallyCool, phone number, office number
email address (a big new thing when I was in school)
Times Professor ReallyCool hangs out in her office
This is a class about Art History. In an overview, it covers from such-and-such date to such-and-such date, and we will be looking at these Deeper Issues and generally wishing we were allowed to drink hot beverages in the classroom because we'll be doing a lot of learning and stuff while having an awesome time.
Buy these books. You'll be reading them.
You will have a midterm and a final. The midterm is on this date. The final is on this date.
You also are expected to complete a 20-page research project by this date. Please come see Professor ReallyCool to confirm your topic before the midterm. It is due on this date.
Here is the list of lectures:
Week 1 Introduction
Week 2 Wonderful staging stuff for what we'll be learning. Read this book.
Week 3 A really cool look at stuff. Read this book.
Week 4 More really cool stuff and what Professor ReallyCool wants us to know. Read this awesome article.
Week 5 Wow, isn't this great stuff? Now think about this... Oh, and read this.
Week 6 Stunning new issues to think about stuff a whole new way. Read this to understand what is going on.
Week 7 (Usually the midterm)
Week 8 A Deeper Issue you hadn't thought about before. Read this totally cool book.
Week 9 More really awesome art you wanted to see. Read this article about it.
Week 10 Some Deeper Questions about art. Read another book.
Week 11 How this art might relate to other art. Read these articles, they're awesome.
Week 12 Other Art that probably was influenced by this art. Here's a book about it.
Week 13 More Deeper Issues to make us rethink our assumptions. Read this book.
Week 14 Art is so totally awesome that we want all our friends to take this class. Read this article and this article.
Week 15 Either presentations about our projects, or a kick-ass wrap-lecture. (And here's some more reading).
Final on this Date.
And that was it. Were my professors tearing their hair out about students making excuses about not coming to class or not having their textbooks? Did they have students reading newspapers, email, Facebook in their classes?
My syllabus is now six pages long, before the outline of lectures. It includes policies for attendance, policies for academic honesty, policies for cell phones, computers, reading, and other distractions. It lays out the assignments in excruciating detail, from the format of the tests to the exact requirements for notating and documenting a research assignment (including font and spacing). Now I am going to have to add in a statement saying, "You are required to have your textbook when you begin this class. If you are unable to purchase the textbook, please locate and use the copies available in the library."
When I was in college, it was assumed that the student handbook policies- such as "have your textbook" and "You are only permitted two unexcused absences per class" applied to all of your classes. A professor didn't put that stuff in each and every syllabus. the idea of using a cell phone during class time was of course ridiculous, they weren't that pervasive, but anything that made noise or distraction was just known to be verboten. You just didn't. If you did, the professor could flunk you. Just like that.
I did have a friend who got through college by asking for extensions from every single professor. She was famous for it. Even the professors knew about it, and I think they just planned accordingly when they saw her name on the roster. She was also known to be excruciatingly annoying, both to her classmates and her professors, for asking for extensions. But the point was, she was famous for it because it was so rare. Not anymore. Heck, my grad program didn't permit "Incompletes." If you had an incomplete on your record, you sacrificed your funding. Period.
Two weeks into the semester, I have students emailing me for extensions because they don't have their textbook. Big red flag: problem student here. Seriously, I have never had a student who, having "issues" at the beginning of the semester, did not continue to be a pain in my patookas for the rest of the semester. Not one. I've stopped allowing late adds, I don't care who died or what medical procedure you had. No extra credit here- more painfully poor work is not going to help your grade. And if you cannot be bothered to even think of going to the library to get your reading done, are you really ready to be in a college-level class?
And folks, it is really very depressing to see so many people unable to think for themselves, to have them insist on having things all spelled out as if we were all lawyers looking for loopholes. I think I prefer the days when a professor could just flunk you for being an arrogant jerk.
Just like that.
When I was in college- and honestly, folks, it wasn't that long ago- a syllabus was one, maybe two pages long. It included the name of the class, an overview of the lectures and what reading you were expected to do, a list of contact info for the professor, and what actual assignments would be. It kind of looked like this:
Art History Class You Will Love
Meets twice a week at this location
Professor ReallyCool, phone number, office number
email address (a big new thing when I was in school)
Times Professor ReallyCool hangs out in her office
This is a class about Art History. In an overview, it covers from such-and-such date to such-and-such date, and we will be looking at these Deeper Issues and generally wishing we were allowed to drink hot beverages in the classroom because we'll be doing a lot of learning and stuff while having an awesome time.
Buy these books. You'll be reading them.
You will have a midterm and a final. The midterm is on this date. The final is on this date.
You also are expected to complete a 20-page research project by this date. Please come see Professor ReallyCool to confirm your topic before the midterm. It is due on this date.
Here is the list of lectures:
Week 1 Introduction
Week 2 Wonderful staging stuff for what we'll be learning. Read this book.
Week 3 A really cool look at stuff. Read this book.
Week 4 More really cool stuff and what Professor ReallyCool wants us to know. Read this awesome article.
Week 5 Wow, isn't this great stuff? Now think about this... Oh, and read this.
Week 6 Stunning new issues to think about stuff a whole new way. Read this to understand what is going on.
Week 7 (Usually the midterm)
Week 8 A Deeper Issue you hadn't thought about before. Read this totally cool book.
Week 9 More really awesome art you wanted to see. Read this article about it.
Week 10 Some Deeper Questions about art. Read another book.
Week 11 How this art might relate to other art. Read these articles, they're awesome.
Week 12 Other Art that probably was influenced by this art. Here's a book about it.
Week 13 More Deeper Issues to make us rethink our assumptions. Read this book.
Week 14 Art is so totally awesome that we want all our friends to take this class. Read this article and this article.
Week 15 Either presentations about our projects, or a kick-ass wrap-lecture. (And here's some more reading).
Final on this Date.
And that was it. Were my professors tearing their hair out about students making excuses about not coming to class or not having their textbooks? Did they have students reading newspapers, email, Facebook in their classes?
My syllabus is now six pages long, before the outline of lectures. It includes policies for attendance, policies for academic honesty, policies for cell phones, computers, reading, and other distractions. It lays out the assignments in excruciating detail, from the format of the tests to the exact requirements for notating and documenting a research assignment (including font and spacing). Now I am going to have to add in a statement saying, "You are required to have your textbook when you begin this class. If you are unable to purchase the textbook, please locate and use the copies available in the library."
When I was in college, it was assumed that the student handbook policies- such as "have your textbook" and "You are only permitted two unexcused absences per class" applied to all of your classes. A professor didn't put that stuff in each and every syllabus. the idea of using a cell phone during class time was of course ridiculous, they weren't that pervasive, but anything that made noise or distraction was just known to be verboten. You just didn't. If you did, the professor could flunk you. Just like that.
I did have a friend who got through college by asking for extensions from every single professor. She was famous for it. Even the professors knew about it, and I think they just planned accordingly when they saw her name on the roster. She was also known to be excruciatingly annoying, both to her classmates and her professors, for asking for extensions. But the point was, she was famous for it because it was so rare. Not anymore. Heck, my grad program didn't permit "Incompletes." If you had an incomplete on your record, you sacrificed your funding. Period.
Two weeks into the semester, I have students emailing me for extensions because they don't have their textbook. Big red flag: problem student here. Seriously, I have never had a student who, having "issues" at the beginning of the semester, did not continue to be a pain in my patookas for the rest of the semester. Not one. I've stopped allowing late adds, I don't care who died or what medical procedure you had. No extra credit here- more painfully poor work is not going to help your grade. And if you cannot be bothered to even think of going to the library to get your reading done, are you really ready to be in a college-level class?
And folks, it is really very depressing to see so many people unable to think for themselves, to have them insist on having things all spelled out as if we were all lawyers looking for loopholes. I think I prefer the days when a professor could just flunk you for being an arrogant jerk.
Just like that.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Prayers
We have heard a autistic family in the area is falling victim to ignorance. The child is a "runner" and managed to escape the house. A neighbor spotted the child and called police. The police have locked up a parent and have the child in the custody of social services. Such appalling ignorance on the part of the police and social services should not be tolerated.
I do not have the family's permission to release any details or identifying information, because I have not spoken with them directly. However, please join me in praying hard, and working towards educating our public servants so that this kind of ignorance does not tear apart other families.
I do not have the family's permission to release any details or identifying information, because I have not spoken with them directly. However, please join me in praying hard, and working towards educating our public servants so that this kind of ignorance does not tear apart other families.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Assurances
We've been having some communication issues here. Andy wants to play with Joey. Joey wants to play with Andy. Andy asks Joey to play by calling his name and inviting him to look at things and join games ("Look, Doe-y! Look what I made! I made dis for you! Let's be monsters, Doe-y. Doe-y! Look!"). Joey's preferred method is to invite Andy to sit with him ("Come sit here at your computer, Andy. Come sit with me. Play on computer number two.") Sometimes Joey ignores Andy altogether, unable to pull himself from his micro-super-focus to engage the world around him. The result is a lot of frustration. Andy doesn't want to sit next to Joey, he wants to play with Joey. Joey wants to do his own thing, but he wants his brother with him while he does it, but sometimes he doesn't want to really talk to his brother. This has aggravated the Witching Hour and two brothers who really love each other have a breakdown in trying to connect to one another on their own terms.
So today, after Andy had another fruitless attempt at getting Joey to play with him instead of beside him, and various other issues and events of the day, it was suddenly decided that Andy could go for a sleepover at Grandma's house (it is his turn, anyway, and this would give me some rare one-on-one with Joey). A great fuss was made about packing Andy up, announcing he was going to Grandma's, and generally making sure Joey understood that plans had changed and Andy was not going to be home this evening. Kisses and hugs were exchanged. Joey asked when he would be going to Grandma's (in his way... which is to state, "I'm going to Grandma's on Tuesday. Andy goes to Grandma's on Wednesday." Translation: I want to go to Grandma's, Andy should stay here.) Andy, pleased as punch (who doesn't want to go to Grandma's to get one-on-one attention and red pancakes?), settled into Grandma's truck and off they went.
Joey was in the kitchen with his computer. He had Andy's computer open, too. "Come sit at your computer, Andy, and play," Joey called. Andy was already gone.
I took some time to sit with him. I explained that Andy was at Grandma's house. Joey looked sad, and let me watch him play a few rounds of Tic-Tac-Toe. He told me he would go to Grandma's on Tuesday (BTW, he can't go to Grandma's on Tuesday, because he has school on Wednesday). Then he got up, moved to the livingroom, plopped on the couch, and stared at the silent and blank television.
"Do you want to watch something? You can watch anything you want," I offered in an attempt to cheer him.
"Oswald," he nodded. This was an out-of-character request, but I did have a few episodes recorded, so I turned it on for him, then knelt in front of him and gave him a snuggle and a tickle to get him to giggle. He pushed my face up to look into it.
"You love me." Was it a question, or a statement? It can sometimes be hard to tell.
"I sure do!" I assured him.
"And Grandma loves me."
"Yes, indeed! We all love you! You're the bestest boy that ever, ever was!" (This is a common statement of endearment in my family.)
"And Daddy. And Andy."
"Yes, we all love you."
"I love you, too. Play a game with me?"
"Of course!"
And so we entered a World Championship match of tic-tac-toe until JoeyAndyDad got home. And he kept beating the socks off me.
So today, after Andy had another fruitless attempt at getting Joey to play with him instead of beside him, and various other issues and events of the day, it was suddenly decided that Andy could go for a sleepover at Grandma's house (it is his turn, anyway, and this would give me some rare one-on-one with Joey). A great fuss was made about packing Andy up, announcing he was going to Grandma's, and generally making sure Joey understood that plans had changed and Andy was not going to be home this evening. Kisses and hugs were exchanged. Joey asked when he would be going to Grandma's (in his way... which is to state, "I'm going to Grandma's on Tuesday. Andy goes to Grandma's on Wednesday." Translation: I want to go to Grandma's, Andy should stay here.) Andy, pleased as punch (who doesn't want to go to Grandma's to get one-on-one attention and red pancakes?), settled into Grandma's truck and off they went.
Joey was in the kitchen with his computer. He had Andy's computer open, too. "Come sit at your computer, Andy, and play," Joey called. Andy was already gone.
I took some time to sit with him. I explained that Andy was at Grandma's house. Joey looked sad, and let me watch him play a few rounds of Tic-Tac-Toe. He told me he would go to Grandma's on Tuesday (BTW, he can't go to Grandma's on Tuesday, because he has school on Wednesday). Then he got up, moved to the livingroom, plopped on the couch, and stared at the silent and blank television.
"Do you want to watch something? You can watch anything you want," I offered in an attempt to cheer him.
"Oswald," he nodded. This was an out-of-character request, but I did have a few episodes recorded, so I turned it on for him, then knelt in front of him and gave him a snuggle and a tickle to get him to giggle. He pushed my face up to look into it.
"You love me." Was it a question, or a statement? It can sometimes be hard to tell.
"I sure do!" I assured him.
"And Grandma loves me."
"Yes, indeed! We all love you! You're the bestest boy that ever, ever was!" (This is a common statement of endearment in my family.)
"And Daddy. And Andy."
"Yes, we all love you."
"I love you, too. Play a game with me?"
"Of course!"
And so we entered a World Championship match of tic-tac-toe until JoeyAndyDad got home. And he kept beating the socks off me.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Mrs. Obama's Gown
I find myself in good company when I say, with all due respect, that I was disappointed by Mrs. Obama's ball gown. Now, seriously, I am no fashionista. In fact, I know almost nothing about fashion, and haute couture just annoys me. Fashions made for stick figures just don't do anything for me. I just didn't like the dress.
Not that it was a complete disaster. It just was such an opportunity to wear the perfect dress, and that opportunity, in my humble opinion was missed.
What the dress did right:
I liked the bare neckline (or would have, without that shoulder thing. Let's pretend that shoulder thing didn't exist for right now.) Mrs. Obama has good shoulders, which is a "rare fair feature" and I am glad they featured it. Also, as an art historian, the showing of strong shoulders creates such a wonderful, powerful image of a self-assertive and powerful person, it was a good thing to emphasize.
I liked the swing and flow of the skirt. When Mrs. Obama turned, there was a dramatic sweep of motion in the skirt, and I think that created a sense of motion and mystery, energy and flow that really worked.
What I would have done differently:
White? White is a color you put on really skinny people to give them an illusion of weight. And I mean really skinny. Brides wear white our of post-Victorian tradition, not for flattering the figure. In fact, many bridal dresses pull out a whole host of other tricks for flattery to make up for the color. On top of that, Mrs. Obama can really wear color, so why not take advantage of that? A rich green. A bright peacock or royal blue. (I'm not into red for inaugurations).
The textured fabric? No, no. no. What were those things? Flowers? The dress needed some sparkle, but keep it flush. Don't look like a bunch of random butterflies just landed all over you. That's more for a kid's prom dress, not an adult's ball gown. Maybe some beading, or some sequin work, a little flash without overdoing it. I'd prefer beads, but they can be a little heavy, and you don't want to disturb the motion in the skirt. Maybe a shimmery material of some kind. LAce is OK if it isn't pop-up.
Waistline- oh dear. Mrs. Obama apparently has a high waistline naturally, so why not go with a faux empire waist to flatter? Especially with the white...
The shoulder thing. Dump it. It was distracting. It was way too heavy. It looked like an afterthought, disturbing the lines of the dress. What was the point? Was that added to help her get in and out of the car or something?
So I think in the end, I wanted there to be more elegance, more of an adult feel to the dress. To me, the dress looked like a glorified prom dress, not a formal ball gown.
I put out this critique not really as a critique of Mrs. Obama. She has the right to have her own taste, and to select any gown she feels is appropriate. This critique is really more about what I feel are appropriate and desirable qualities in a a wife, a mother, a First Lady, and a woman in today's world, as communicated through clothing. In other words, this is not about the Obamas, the designers, or even really a dress; it is about me, how I feel, and what I want. So, Mrs. Obama, go for it. Set your own style, and never wear anything you don't love. Show us your ideas. We want to know!
Not that it was a complete disaster. It just was such an opportunity to wear the perfect dress, and that opportunity, in my humble opinion was missed.
What the dress did right:
I liked the bare neckline (or would have, without that shoulder thing. Let's pretend that shoulder thing didn't exist for right now.) Mrs. Obama has good shoulders, which is a "rare fair feature" and I am glad they featured it. Also, as an art historian, the showing of strong shoulders creates such a wonderful, powerful image of a self-assertive and powerful person, it was a good thing to emphasize.
I liked the swing and flow of the skirt. When Mrs. Obama turned, there was a dramatic sweep of motion in the skirt, and I think that created a sense of motion and mystery, energy and flow that really worked.
What I would have done differently:
White? White is a color you put on really skinny people to give them an illusion of weight. And I mean really skinny. Brides wear white our of post-Victorian tradition, not for flattering the figure. In fact, many bridal dresses pull out a whole host of other tricks for flattery to make up for the color. On top of that, Mrs. Obama can really wear color, so why not take advantage of that? A rich green. A bright peacock or royal blue. (I'm not into red for inaugurations).
The textured fabric? No, no. no. What were those things? Flowers? The dress needed some sparkle, but keep it flush. Don't look like a bunch of random butterflies just landed all over you. That's more for a kid's prom dress, not an adult's ball gown. Maybe some beading, or some sequin work, a little flash without overdoing it. I'd prefer beads, but they can be a little heavy, and you don't want to disturb the motion in the skirt. Maybe a shimmery material of some kind. LAce is OK if it isn't pop-up.
Waistline- oh dear. Mrs. Obama apparently has a high waistline naturally, so why not go with a faux empire waist to flatter? Especially with the white...
The shoulder thing. Dump it. It was distracting. It was way too heavy. It looked like an afterthought, disturbing the lines of the dress. What was the point? Was that added to help her get in and out of the car or something?
So I think in the end, I wanted there to be more elegance, more of an adult feel to the dress. To me, the dress looked like a glorified prom dress, not a formal ball gown.
I put out this critique not really as a critique of Mrs. Obama. She has the right to have her own taste, and to select any gown she feels is appropriate. This critique is really more about what I feel are appropriate and desirable qualities in a a wife, a mother, a First Lady, and a woman in today's world, as communicated through clothing. In other words, this is not about the Obamas, the designers, or even really a dress; it is about me, how I feel, and what I want. So, Mrs. Obama, go for it. Set your own style, and never wear anything you don't love. Show us your ideas. We want to know!
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
What is hope?
Waking up at 3 am to find boys all snuggled with you.
Asking Joey what he did today... and having him tell you.
Listening to the boys playing in the next room- and realizing they are not only having a conversation, but bouncing a little story back and forth between them, making up the play narrative together.
Joey practicing for the school spelling bee.
Reports of another good day at school.
Watching the cat voluntarily jump up on a boy bed and settle- with the boy still awake.
Asking for a boy to bring you a glass of water from the kitchen- and having two handed to you.
Two boys strapped in their seats ready to go, and you never touched a seat belt or buckle.
Two boys dressed and playing on their computers downstairs, and you discovered this after rolling out of bed and realizing it was really quiet upstairs.
An SOL nine weeks test with only one question missed.
"Knock knock." "Who's there?" "Orange." "Orange who?" "Orange is not yellow!"
Asking Joey what he did today... and having him tell you.
Listening to the boys playing in the next room- and realizing they are not only having a conversation, but bouncing a little story back and forth between them, making up the play narrative together.
Joey practicing for the school spelling bee.
Reports of another good day at school.
Watching the cat voluntarily jump up on a boy bed and settle- with the boy still awake.
Asking for a boy to bring you a glass of water from the kitchen- and having two handed to you.
Two boys strapped in their seats ready to go, and you never touched a seat belt or buckle.
Two boys dressed and playing on their computers downstairs, and you discovered this after rolling out of bed and realizing it was really quiet upstairs.
An SOL nine weeks test with only one question missed.
"Knock knock." "Who's there?" "Orange." "Orange who?" "Orange is not yellow!"
Monday, January 19, 2009
Insanity
Whenever my father makes an appearance, I go a little nutso-bonko. My father and I don't generally get along. More accurately, we often find we have nothing to say to each other. Growing up, nothing was ever good enough. There was always something you could do better. Something more you could have done. Something that should have been done differently. And stranger still, he really couldn't have cared less about it, just that it should have been better.
I have tales I could tell that made even my therapist look at me funny and question my recollection, because it was just incredible. Truth really can be stranger than fiction.
Even when a "visit" is going fairly successfully, I get left with this vibration of "you should have done this. You could have done that." Oh, and "the house is a mess." Such strangeness comes out more when things go wrong. For example, this round, Joey apparently swallowed too much pool water Sunday morning at swimming, and the result was waxing on my father. Score: Joey, one. Father, zero.
JoeyAndyDad bravely and diligently got Joey to the bathroom, and I tried to hail the waitress for a mop. The other customers in the restaurant quietly and tactfully packed up, paid their bills, and skedaddled while I waited for a mop or towels or something to appear to help clean the mess. Finally, I was informed that she couldn't get a mop, because the mop was in the men's room.
So I fetched it. Joey was still sick. Hot water was slowly fetched- then the mop placed in my hands. Huh? But the smell was getting to me, I had to get it cleaned up. Where were my children? My father? My husband? Apparently the husband was being bundled up with the sick child to take home. Car seats needed to be moved. Waxxing still needed to be cleaned. The other child was hungry. There was pizza in there somewhere, and the salad I had been eating disappeared. When the dust settled, JoeyAndyDad had taken Joey home to rest, and I was caught at the mercy of my father with Andy and my father's wife at a pizza place that would really rather we just leave.
Right. As we finally packed up and went to pay for the pizza, it was just my father and I at the register, waiting to pay for the pizza.
And now I will toss in another tidbit. Remember that brother I haven't seen or heard from in ten years? Apparently he made an appearance at the family Christmas gathering we didn't go to because driving to Pennsylvania with two small children, especially small children who may get carsick, for a two-hour upheaval in a new place, is just not a great idea. I learned this because last weekend, my cousin's husband showed up with the Cousins, and we were driving to the pizza place (yes, the same one- I got in the car with him so he wouldn't get lost), and he thought I knew, so started talking about it. He thought I knew because my aunt and uncle have already been by since the event. I think they didn't mention it because they probably thought my dad should be the one to tell me, which is perfectly reasonable in this kind of situation.
So we stand at the register, just us. Perfect moment to start a conversation about something. Anything. Would he tell me? Would he have something else to say, like "the boys look good" or "you seem to be doing a great job" or even "gee, the weather sure is nice."
We stood there in silence. Was it my place to say something? Should I have just gone ahead and put something out there? But that isn't how we work. Um, well, I guess we don't work. Silence reigned. The entire visit finally passed without one mention of my brother. I did hear a lot about their trip to South Dakota, though. Oh, and I heard about my porch needing repairs. He'll come help if I hire a few other people to help.
Skip to today, and lingering insanity. I made pot roast for dinner today. I managed to get it together enough to get the potatoes cut, the carrots in, the meat in, and turn the crockpot on. Hey, that's a big deal around here. The boys got a new toy from my father, a Mickey Motor Speedway. I don't recommend it. It would be a fabulous toy if it stayed put together. But it doesn't. I might get the glue out tonight. The boys have been playing with it. Then it falls apart, and there is much screaming until I can get it back together. Joey decided he wanted the other car. That was a mess, involving deliberate pulling apart of the toy. Really, I can't much complain, but it was enough to be on my nerves with my nerves not so great to begin with.
Poor JoeyAndyDad came home tired. Not hungry. Must have packed enough food for him today when I packed his lunch bag last night.
Six o'clock arrived. I wandered into the kitchen, took up the lid on the pot roast and looked at it. The edges were too dark. It looked dry. I must have forgotten to put in the bouillon. Why did I make it, anyway? No one is going to eat it. The boys don't like pot roast. It will sit upon their plates. Joey will poke at it, and might eat it if he's really, really hungry; more likely, he will just say he's full and push it away, then ask for a peanut butter sandwich. Andy won't be so subtle. "EWWWW!" is his favorite dinnertime word, followed by, "I don't eat that! It's yucky!" JoeyAndyDad already said he probably didn't want any.
Why did I even make it? Was it for me?
I slopped the roast into a casserole and stuck it in the fridge, and fixed the boys food they would eat- sliced raw green pepper, a PBJ for Joey, some rolled lunchmeat for Andy, some grapes, and a cheese stick each. Andy even ate a couple slices of the pepper.
I have tales I could tell that made even my therapist look at me funny and question my recollection, because it was just incredible. Truth really can be stranger than fiction.
Even when a "visit" is going fairly successfully, I get left with this vibration of "you should have done this. You could have done that." Oh, and "the house is a mess." Such strangeness comes out more when things go wrong. For example, this round, Joey apparently swallowed too much pool water Sunday morning at swimming, and the result was waxing on my father. Score: Joey, one. Father, zero.
JoeyAndyDad bravely and diligently got Joey to the bathroom, and I tried to hail the waitress for a mop. The other customers in the restaurant quietly and tactfully packed up, paid their bills, and skedaddled while I waited for a mop or towels or something to appear to help clean the mess. Finally, I was informed that she couldn't get a mop, because the mop was in the men's room.
So I fetched it. Joey was still sick. Hot water was slowly fetched- then the mop placed in my hands. Huh? But the smell was getting to me, I had to get it cleaned up. Where were my children? My father? My husband? Apparently the husband was being bundled up with the sick child to take home. Car seats needed to be moved. Waxxing still needed to be cleaned. The other child was hungry. There was pizza in there somewhere, and the salad I had been eating disappeared. When the dust settled, JoeyAndyDad had taken Joey home to rest, and I was caught at the mercy of my father with Andy and my father's wife at a pizza place that would really rather we just leave.
Right. As we finally packed up and went to pay for the pizza, it was just my father and I at the register, waiting to pay for the pizza.
And now I will toss in another tidbit. Remember that brother I haven't seen or heard from in ten years? Apparently he made an appearance at the family Christmas gathering we didn't go to because driving to Pennsylvania with two small children, especially small children who may get carsick, for a two-hour upheaval in a new place, is just not a great idea. I learned this because last weekend, my cousin's husband showed up with the Cousins, and we were driving to the pizza place (yes, the same one- I got in the car with him so he wouldn't get lost), and he thought I knew, so started talking about it. He thought I knew because my aunt and uncle have already been by since the event. I think they didn't mention it because they probably thought my dad should be the one to tell me, which is perfectly reasonable in this kind of situation.
So we stand at the register, just us. Perfect moment to start a conversation about something. Anything. Would he tell me? Would he have something else to say, like "the boys look good" or "you seem to be doing a great job" or even "gee, the weather sure is nice."
We stood there in silence. Was it my place to say something? Should I have just gone ahead and put something out there? But that isn't how we work. Um, well, I guess we don't work. Silence reigned. The entire visit finally passed without one mention of my brother. I did hear a lot about their trip to South Dakota, though. Oh, and I heard about my porch needing repairs. He'll come help if I hire a few other people to help.
Skip to today, and lingering insanity. I made pot roast for dinner today. I managed to get it together enough to get the potatoes cut, the carrots in, the meat in, and turn the crockpot on. Hey, that's a big deal around here. The boys got a new toy from my father, a Mickey Motor Speedway. I don't recommend it. It would be a fabulous toy if it stayed put together. But it doesn't. I might get the glue out tonight. The boys have been playing with it. Then it falls apart, and there is much screaming until I can get it back together. Joey decided he wanted the other car. That was a mess, involving deliberate pulling apart of the toy. Really, I can't much complain, but it was enough to be on my nerves with my nerves not so great to begin with.
Poor JoeyAndyDad came home tired. Not hungry. Must have packed enough food for him today when I packed his lunch bag last night.
Six o'clock arrived. I wandered into the kitchen, took up the lid on the pot roast and looked at it. The edges were too dark. It looked dry. I must have forgotten to put in the bouillon. Why did I make it, anyway? No one is going to eat it. The boys don't like pot roast. It will sit upon their plates. Joey will poke at it, and might eat it if he's really, really hungry; more likely, he will just say he's full and push it away, then ask for a peanut butter sandwich. Andy won't be so subtle. "EWWWW!" is his favorite dinnertime word, followed by, "I don't eat that! It's yucky!" JoeyAndyDad already said he probably didn't want any.
Why did I even make it? Was it for me?
I slopped the roast into a casserole and stuck it in the fridge, and fixed the boys food they would eat- sliced raw green pepper, a PBJ for Joey, some rolled lunchmeat for Andy, some grapes, and a cheese stick each. Andy even ate a couple slices of the pepper.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Notes to self
If you have two computers, and one is larger and gotten dinosaur stickers stuck all over it, guess which computer both children want to play on?
A crayon lost too close to the fireplace will melt if you light a fire.
If today is the day your father has decided to make an appearance, it is not the day to forget to take your antidepressants.
Do not leave blankets lying on the floor around the house. Cats prefer them to litter boxes.
Corollary: Cat pee rolls off cheap pressed-polyester blankets. Have paper towels handy.
If your child is looking pale, refusing pizza, and seeming to cover his mouth with his hand, it is already too late to get him to the bathroom. Just get a mop.
Do not tip the waitress at the restaurant who makes you do the mopping.
A crayon lost too close to the fireplace will melt if you light a fire.
If today is the day your father has decided to make an appearance, it is not the day to forget to take your antidepressants.
Do not leave blankets lying on the floor around the house. Cats prefer them to litter boxes.
Corollary: Cat pee rolls off cheap pressed-polyester blankets. Have paper towels handy.
If your child is looking pale, refusing pizza, and seeming to cover his mouth with his hand, it is already too late to get him to the bathroom. Just get a mop.
Do not tip the waitress at the restaurant who makes you do the mopping.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Fixing the heat
My house has been a bit cold lately. the spring before last winter, we had teh air conditioning on the first floor fixed with a new heat pump unit. Yay! We took out the window units and settled into a new life of cool comfort. Then came last winter. The house was a little cool, but that was OK. A sweater never hurt anybody, and we kept the bills down, and it never got so cold that the heat pump didn't work.
Flash forward to this week. For those of you unfamiliar with heat pumps, for them to work until, say, 40 degree high days, you need to have a heat coil unit. The units are expensive, the heat is expensive, and they still have issues with keeping a house with old windows heated. We do not have that coil unit. We opted to keep our gas boiler. The heating and cooling folks were supposed to set it up so we could turn on teh boiler if it got bad.
Natural gas prices have skyrocketed right with them gas prices. Only they don't go down so fast. So we have been braving it with the fireplace, space heaters, and the option to turn on the boiler if it got bad. This week, it got bad. Down the stairs went the brave JoeyAndyDad to turn on the boiler.
He flipped the switch upstairs. He flipped the switch downstairs. The boiler lighter click-click-clicked. The radiators started getting water in them. But the gas did not fire up with its glorious WHOOSH of heat and comfort. All we had was click-click-click and the smell of gas.
Not good.
So we battened down hatches, called the heating and cooling folks, and put extra blankets on the beds. Yesterday, I got the fire roaring while we waited for the heating and cooling guy. And he arrived. On time and everything, because we use the good heating and cooling people in town, we don't joke around. And they are awesome.
And he looked at the furnace, and the wiring, and what had happened with the installation of the other unit, and wow, he was hot. Apparently, the other guys were supposed to do something very different, with a whole different kind of thermostat. They were supposed to hook us up so that the boiler switched on automatically when it got to be 40 degrees outside, and not have us completely dependent on a heat pump. What they did instead was try to rig it so that I had to manually turn on the boiler- which was causing some kind of electrical signal issue, so that when we tried to turn on the boiler, we got no heat at all. And what made him mad is that apparently, I wasn't supposed to have requested this, since our heat pump had no emergency coils, it should have just been matter-of-course in the installation.
So he got us our boiler working. And now he'll be back next week with the proper thermostat, and install that like it should have been almost two years ago. And my house will not be chilly ever again... unless I make it that way on purpose, or something breaks.
Happy cold snap.
Flash forward to this week. For those of you unfamiliar with heat pumps, for them to work until, say, 40 degree high days, you need to have a heat coil unit. The units are expensive, the heat is expensive, and they still have issues with keeping a house with old windows heated. We do not have that coil unit. We opted to keep our gas boiler. The heating and cooling folks were supposed to set it up so we could turn on teh boiler if it got bad.
Natural gas prices have skyrocketed right with them gas prices. Only they don't go down so fast. So we have been braving it with the fireplace, space heaters, and the option to turn on the boiler if it got bad. This week, it got bad. Down the stairs went the brave JoeyAndyDad to turn on the boiler.
He flipped the switch upstairs. He flipped the switch downstairs. The boiler lighter click-click-clicked. The radiators started getting water in them. But the gas did not fire up with its glorious WHOOSH of heat and comfort. All we had was click-click-click and the smell of gas.
Not good.
So we battened down hatches, called the heating and cooling folks, and put extra blankets on the beds. Yesterday, I got the fire roaring while we waited for the heating and cooling guy. And he arrived. On time and everything, because we use the good heating and cooling people in town, we don't joke around. And they are awesome.
And he looked at the furnace, and the wiring, and what had happened with the installation of the other unit, and wow, he was hot. Apparently, the other guys were supposed to do something very different, with a whole different kind of thermostat. They were supposed to hook us up so that the boiler switched on automatically when it got to be 40 degrees outside, and not have us completely dependent on a heat pump. What they did instead was try to rig it so that I had to manually turn on the boiler- which was causing some kind of electrical signal issue, so that when we tried to turn on the boiler, we got no heat at all. And what made him mad is that apparently, I wasn't supposed to have requested this, since our heat pump had no emergency coils, it should have just been matter-of-course in the installation.
So he got us our boiler working. And now he'll be back next week with the proper thermostat, and install that like it should have been almost two years ago. And my house will not be chilly ever again... unless I make it that way on purpose, or something breaks.
Happy cold snap.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Hard Times
Some days are beautiful, wonderful journeys of growth and learning. And some days are floundering in the dust. That's life for you. Sometimes those days are the same day. Just bizarre.
Joey has been having some rough days. Lots of spacing invading. Lots of wild, unpredictable behavior. Lots of annoying the brother. Meltdowns. General malaise. Not good.
Mrs. H and I are trying to put together the clues and figure out what is going on. We're pretty sure the new classmate in the morning- Joey's time in the autism resource room- is a factor. We're sure the post-Christmas breakdown is feeding into the issues. Losing a tooth- especially with all the blood involved- didn't help. But is there more? Are we seeing a sensory shift? Do we need new strategies? New inputs? What can we be doing to support him?
Joey has been having some rough days. Lots of spacing invading. Lots of wild, unpredictable behavior. Lots of annoying the brother. Meltdowns. General malaise. Not good.
Mrs. H and I are trying to put together the clues and figure out what is going on. We're pretty sure the new classmate in the morning- Joey's time in the autism resource room- is a factor. We're sure the post-Christmas breakdown is feeding into the issues. Losing a tooth- especially with all the blood involved- didn't help. But is there more? Are we seeing a sensory shift? Do we need new strategies? New inputs? What can we be doing to support him?
Monday, January 12, 2009
Another day slips by
Joey was sick today. I'm not sure if he had a bug, or if he just got so upset last night that he upset his tummy. He lost a tooth, but there was blood involved, and he really melted down. He was up and down all night saying his tummy hurt. When it was still hurting this morning, I just kept him home.
Which means I had extra snuggle-time with a little boy. I was curled up with my baby, in my room, watchin' us some Max and Ruby, snuggly-buggly. It was cold downstairs, it was warm in my room. All too soon he was ready to get up, Grandma was downstairs to check on him and see the missing tooth (and the cool blue car the Tooth Fairy left for him!), and the morning was gone. Just another memory.
Joey has been going to school since he was two and a half. When other kids aren't even wondering about school, just getting their first tastes of the world, Joey was getting on a big yellow bus and having a life away from me. Parents who choose to send their kids to daycares or babysitters at young ages don't know what I am getting at. Those who sent their kids into care because they had to work have an inkling. I missed those lazy mornings with my toddler, hugging and exploring and discovering.
A morning with me and Joey is a very special treat. I love Andy, I will miss the mornings I now have with him when he goes to school. I love having two boys bouncing on the bed and giggling. But I don't get a lot of just-us with Joey. I'm sorry he has to feel bad to have a snuggle-morning of just us. Taking out of school when he isn't feeling bad wouldn't be the thing to do, though- it would create anxiety for him to not have a schedule, to not have structure and activities. I know this because of vacations and weekends. Still, I wish we had more time. Some days he feels so very far away.
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