We are having a whopper of an afternoon. Joey has so far broken one of Andy's toys, written all over one of Andy's artworks, and "ruined" something else we haven't yet clearly identified, but JOey came out and informed Andy of the deed. In the world of sibling rivalry, it is the deliberate nature of this destruction that is concerning us most. Here come our deerstalkers and pipes- another mystery is upon us.
Is this simple sibling rivalry? Are we acting out in place of lashing out with words? Instead of calling brother names, we scribble on his things when he isn't complying with our wishes? And what does Joey want? Does he want Andy to play with him? Was there some other action we missed- for example, did Andy tease him, hit him, threaten him? Did Andy tell Joey to go away?
Is this something deeper? Is he lashing out against his brother because he is having troubles elsewhere? Is he using Andy as a surrogate to lash out at, instead of someone at school or the playpark?
Is this a acting out against something totally unrelated? Other frustrations, other issues, other discomforts?
If we solve this mystery or not, we still need to do something. This is not acceptable behavior. Joey needs tools for dealing with frustration, discomfort, and unhappiness that are not destructive. We need to help him manage stress. He needs a better way to communicate stress. Screaming at the top of his lungs when we express our disappointment is just not that helpful or constructive.
UPDATE: We finally got Joey calmed down enough to talk to us. Apparently, some of the kids at school are calling him names, and it makes him angry. He felt much better after telling JoeyAndyDad all about it.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
On the Playground: Another Day
Not one to waste a decent afternoon, I took the boys to the park after Joey got off the bus today. We've been spending a good bit of time at the park whenever we can, because it is good for the boys and Andy begs to go. He likes it best when there are lots of other kids there. It likes it even better when Joey is also there, because he is guaranteed a playmate.
However, we have been increasingly running into issues at the park. Joey has a very set way of dealing with large spaces, with other people, and with play. He cannot see a couple of kids playing and just jump into the game; he has to be told very specifically what the other children are playing, and what his role can be. This has left him open to some very unfortunate situations when children are not so nice, and there are some children at the park, and even in his classes at school, who are, to be frank, mean. They don't just casually exclude Joey, or fail to include him; they actively go out of their way to make it clear that they are shutting him out and casting him off, so that he knows it. Honestly, it takes a good deal of going out of your way to make it painful enough to Joey that he actually says something about it and knows you are doing it on purpose. Little jerks.
Joey and Andy kind of help each other on the playground, as many siblings do. Andy often gives Joey a few extra cues to catch on to a game, some extra repetition to pull him into play. Also, nobody messes with his Joey. When he sees those mean kids taunting him, he has been known to walk right up to them and say, "You weave my Joey awone!"
However, this propping of his older brother sometimes gets on Andy's nerves. He wants to run and be in the game. Also, often Joey wants to play with Andy, but not always the game Andy wants to play. The natural result is that Andy wants to go play the game he wants to play, not the game Joey wants to play with Andy. The result is frustration, and often a few rounds of "I don't want to play with you!" and someone's feelings being hurt- usually Joey's.
Keep in mind that the vast majority of time, the playground chorus is, "Come on, Joey! Come play!" from Andy. Or after a few minutes, Joey's offers of, "Andy! I want to play with you!" is often met with unreserved enthusiasm. But a touch here and there, Andy gets tired of Joey, and wants to play with someone else and do his own thing; and Joey has a very difficult time playing with anyone else, because he and Andy know each other very well, and so Andy automatically and efficiently compensates for Joey's needs. Andy knows how to talk to Joey, how to play with Joey, how to draw Joey into a game and include him. Because of Joey's difficulties with language and social cues, other children have a harder time even when they are trying to be inclusive.
We were in the middle of a "I don't want to play with you!" mood. Joey gave up and started playing alone on the slides (I offered to push him on the swing, but I guess playing with Mom isn't always cool when you are feeling uncool). Andy headed over to the merry-go-round. Not too long ago, the idea of Andy getting on the merry-go-round was ludicrous. He still doesn't care to get on it, he prefers to push, or kick slowly and control the speed. But this time, he was with some new friends, a boy about his age, another older, and a third probably between the other two. They were playing pirates, and they all piled onto the merry-go-round to go "sailing." The bigger boy started pushing, faster, faster. I moved closer, because I knew the breakpoint was nearing. It was crossed. Andy hates feeling like he is going to fall off, and the merry-go-round was going too fast. He started to wail.
Suddenly, Joey darted in from my left. He must have heard Andy and slid down fast to get there so quick. He was calling to the bigger boy, "Stop! Stop! Andy doesn't like to go fast!" and he grabbed the merry-go-round and dug in his heels to slow it down. The other boys were voicing their displeasure, but Andy hopped off, Joey let go.
"Can I play with you, Andy?" Joey asked.
"Sure, come on, Joey!" was the happy reply, and they both ran off to the climbing platforms, leaving the new "friends" behind to spin at their own pace. Because, after all, they're brothers. That's what brothers do.
However, we have been increasingly running into issues at the park. Joey has a very set way of dealing with large spaces, with other people, and with play. He cannot see a couple of kids playing and just jump into the game; he has to be told very specifically what the other children are playing, and what his role can be. This has left him open to some very unfortunate situations when children are not so nice, and there are some children at the park, and even in his classes at school, who are, to be frank, mean. They don't just casually exclude Joey, or fail to include him; they actively go out of their way to make it clear that they are shutting him out and casting him off, so that he knows it. Honestly, it takes a good deal of going out of your way to make it painful enough to Joey that he actually says something about it and knows you are doing it on purpose. Little jerks.
Joey and Andy kind of help each other on the playground, as many siblings do. Andy often gives Joey a few extra cues to catch on to a game, some extra repetition to pull him into play. Also, nobody messes with his Joey. When he sees those mean kids taunting him, he has been known to walk right up to them and say, "You weave my Joey awone!"
However, this propping of his older brother sometimes gets on Andy's nerves. He wants to run and be in the game. Also, often Joey wants to play with Andy, but not always the game Andy wants to play. The natural result is that Andy wants to go play the game he wants to play, not the game Joey wants to play with Andy. The result is frustration, and often a few rounds of "I don't want to play with you!" and someone's feelings being hurt- usually Joey's.
Keep in mind that the vast majority of time, the playground chorus is, "Come on, Joey! Come play!" from Andy. Or after a few minutes, Joey's offers of, "Andy! I want to play with you!" is often met with unreserved enthusiasm. But a touch here and there, Andy gets tired of Joey, and wants to play with someone else and do his own thing; and Joey has a very difficult time playing with anyone else, because he and Andy know each other very well, and so Andy automatically and efficiently compensates for Joey's needs. Andy knows how to talk to Joey, how to play with Joey, how to draw Joey into a game and include him. Because of Joey's difficulties with language and social cues, other children have a harder time even when they are trying to be inclusive.
We were in the middle of a "I don't want to play with you!" mood. Joey gave up and started playing alone on the slides (I offered to push him on the swing, but I guess playing with Mom isn't always cool when you are feeling uncool). Andy headed over to the merry-go-round. Not too long ago, the idea of Andy getting on the merry-go-round was ludicrous. He still doesn't care to get on it, he prefers to push, or kick slowly and control the speed. But this time, he was with some new friends, a boy about his age, another older, and a third probably between the other two. They were playing pirates, and they all piled onto the merry-go-round to go "sailing." The bigger boy started pushing, faster, faster. I moved closer, because I knew the breakpoint was nearing. It was crossed. Andy hates feeling like he is going to fall off, and the merry-go-round was going too fast. He started to wail.
Suddenly, Joey darted in from my left. He must have heard Andy and slid down fast to get there so quick. He was calling to the bigger boy, "Stop! Stop! Andy doesn't like to go fast!" and he grabbed the merry-go-round and dug in his heels to slow it down. The other boys were voicing their displeasure, but Andy hopped off, Joey let go.
"Can I play with you, Andy?" Joey asked.
"Sure, come on, Joey!" was the happy reply, and they both ran off to the climbing platforms, leaving the new "friends" behind to spin at their own pace. Because, after all, they're brothers. That's what brothers do.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Defeat
One of the great myths of autism: people with autism understand things very literally, and therefore do not "get" jokes, especially jokes involving puns or other non-literal language.
Joey has had a very difficult time with knock-knock jokes. After all, knock-knock jokes require punning.
Knock-Knock.
Who's there?
Blue.
Blue who?
Why are you crying?
Joey's version:
Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Blue.
Blue who?
Blue is my favorite color.
Yes, the literal side of things shines through. Uncle Lou, famous in my family for his jokes, even did his best to get the point across when we visited at the holidays, to no avail. I think it really hit my family that Joey really is different when they couldn't get him to understand a joke. Fortunately, I bet Uncle Lou will keep trying, because it is clear that Joey understands that you are trying to make a joke, and that jokes are supposed to be funny. He just can't figure out how they work- and the faces he makes are precious.
I was in Andy's room, reading our bedtime stories, and generally trying to convince the little guy that he was, indeed, sleepy and needed to be rested for school in the morning. I had just gotten him tucked in, and snuggled in (Andy likes to be snuggled to sleep. Oh, gosh, darn. ;) ), when here comes Joey.
Joey hops into the bed, sticks his feet on my tummy, and giggles, "I defeated* you!" and leaves.
Myth busted.
*De-feeted.
Joey has had a very difficult time with knock-knock jokes. After all, knock-knock jokes require punning.
Knock-Knock.
Who's there?
Blue.
Blue who?
Why are you crying?
Joey's version:
Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Blue.
Blue who?
Blue is my favorite color.
Yes, the literal side of things shines through. Uncle Lou, famous in my family for his jokes, even did his best to get the point across when we visited at the holidays, to no avail. I think it really hit my family that Joey really is different when they couldn't get him to understand a joke. Fortunately, I bet Uncle Lou will keep trying, because it is clear that Joey understands that you are trying to make a joke, and that jokes are supposed to be funny. He just can't figure out how they work- and the faces he makes are precious.
I was in Andy's room, reading our bedtime stories, and generally trying to convince the little guy that he was, indeed, sleepy and needed to be rested for school in the morning. I had just gotten him tucked in, and snuggled in (Andy likes to be snuggled to sleep. Oh, gosh, darn. ;) ), when here comes Joey.
Joey hops into the bed, sticks his feet on my tummy, and giggles, "I defeated* you!" and leaves.
Myth busted.
*De-feeted.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Overheard at Joey's Bath-time
“Hey! I said no bubble bath!”
“What, Daddy?”
“No bubbles! You added bubbles! And I’m going to tell you when to turn the water off tonight, and you will turn it off.”
“Awwww. “
“Oh, wait, you didn’t have bubble bath last night, did you? You’re OK then. I’m sorry, Buddy!”
“That’s OK! Thank you for saying yes!”
“What, Daddy?”
“No bubbles! You added bubbles! And I’m going to tell you when to turn the water off tonight, and you will turn it off.”
“Awwww. “
“Oh, wait, you didn’t have bubble bath last night, did you? You’re OK then. I’m sorry, Buddy!”
“That’s OK! Thank you for saying yes!”
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Duck and Dodge
Andy had his eval today, the first screening step headed down the path of a possible 504 plan. The first thing we have to do is eliminate the need for an IEP. So off to the childstudy screening we went.
Good news: no IEP. Andy has tongue thrust, attention and focus issues, will probably need motion breaks and a visual schedule, but no IEP. Next step: go bug the elementary VP again and ask for a tour, with recommendations from his OT in hand with today's piece of paper (which does say he needs a visual schedule and motion breaks).
Ah, the joys of ducks getting all in a nice row.
Good news: no IEP. Andy has tongue thrust, attention and focus issues, will probably need motion breaks and a visual schedule, but no IEP. Next step: go bug the elementary VP again and ask for a tour, with recommendations from his OT in hand with today's piece of paper (which does say he needs a visual schedule and motion breaks).
Ah, the joys of ducks getting all in a nice row.
Monday, March 16, 2009
What a Day! (Mixed Bag)
Right on cue, melty days are followed by a trip to the doctor.
This morning, I heard it, the sound that now strikes fear into my heart and shudders through my brain- the bark of the croup cough. Since Joey has a tendency to turn blue, I didn't mess around. Andy was dropped at school, and Joey and I went straight to the Medic One (a miracle of medicine in this town- you see the doctor in about an hour, instead of days!) Diagnosis: the very beginnings of upper respiratory infection. We now have an inhaler and some amoxicillin for the boy.
We went to get Andy, who came out proudly sporting an Andy O'Shenanigans hat (and orange beard). Ah, 'tis time for th' wearin' o' th' green!
But wait, the excitement isn't over! Andy started on a new therapeutic listening program. This one is going to work with both vestibular and speech. I managed a sinus headache (very rare for me), so our beautiful, wonderful Miss Lisa took both boys back to play! So I got busy getting rid of my headache, and they got busy getting out the wiggles.
After that, it was time to get home and get some rest, especially for Joey. So what happens?
Yep- I now have a snaggletooth boy! Time for the Blue Bunny to come visit! I wonder if she has any blue cars left?
This morning, I heard it, the sound that now strikes fear into my heart and shudders through my brain- the bark of the croup cough. Since Joey has a tendency to turn blue, I didn't mess around. Andy was dropped at school, and Joey and I went straight to the Medic One (a miracle of medicine in this town- you see the doctor in about an hour, instead of days!) Diagnosis: the very beginnings of upper respiratory infection. We now have an inhaler and some amoxicillin for the boy.
We went to get Andy, who came out proudly sporting an Andy O'Shenanigans hat (and orange beard). Ah, 'tis time for th' wearin' o' th' green!
But wait, the excitement isn't over! Andy started on a new therapeutic listening program. This one is going to work with both vestibular and speech. I managed a sinus headache (very rare for me), so our beautiful, wonderful Miss Lisa took both boys back to play! So I got busy getting rid of my headache, and they got busy getting out the wiggles.
After that, it was time to get home and get some rest, especially for Joey. So what happens?
Yep- I now have a snaggletooth boy! Time for the Blue Bunny to come visit! I wonder if she has any blue cars left?
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Days in 360
I have a suspicion that some time this week I will be home with one or two sick boys. Whenever we have odd days like this one, we tend to have a real issue several days later.
I knew we were having an off day when Joey got to swimming. Andy didn't go this morning at all, he was sleeping in and spent much of last night saying he didn't want to see Ms. Heidi, he wanted to stay home with Daddy. He got his wish. Joey got to the pool, and right away I could see Ms. Heidi was having a harder than usual time getting Joey to do his swimming- and Joey loves swimming. Was it the rain? or a harbinger of something else?
At home, the moods are spinning. One minute we're happy, playing trucks or decorating our leprechaun trap for school, even watching a little TV or having some popcorn- and suddenly, with little to no warning, its time to melt down. A torn sticker. A dropped kernel. A truck that rolls just a little too far. The world blurs into meltdown.
Melty days are hard. For one, I have few tools to uncover the underlying issues and problems; I am stuck with trying to put out the little fires with no way to discovering what is smouldering or why. Also, the lack of warning means you have a lot of sudden noise, which means not only do I get startled, but Andy is also more likely to melt down. Trying to keep everyone engaged is harder to do, and no guarantee of peace. It also means all the usual tricks are used up by lunchtime.
They are also dizzying. Laugh, giggle, quiet, SCREAM, giggle, SCREAM, fine, quiet, giggle, SCREAM. Mood changing so rapidly that it is hard to know which one is current, and no way to know why.
Having it happen on a cold, rainy day only exacerbates the issues. You can't put them outside to make noise for a while. They are caught inside with you.
So it looks like tonight will be a swell night to pull out some amaretto after the guys are in bed, taking three deep breaths, and hope school goes OK in the morning.
I knew we were having an off day when Joey got to swimming. Andy didn't go this morning at all, he was sleeping in and spent much of last night saying he didn't want to see Ms. Heidi, he wanted to stay home with Daddy. He got his wish. Joey got to the pool, and right away I could see Ms. Heidi was having a harder than usual time getting Joey to do his swimming- and Joey loves swimming. Was it the rain? or a harbinger of something else?
At home, the moods are spinning. One minute we're happy, playing trucks or decorating our leprechaun trap for school, even watching a little TV or having some popcorn- and suddenly, with little to no warning, its time to melt down. A torn sticker. A dropped kernel. A truck that rolls just a little too far. The world blurs into meltdown.
Melty days are hard. For one, I have few tools to uncover the underlying issues and problems; I am stuck with trying to put out the little fires with no way to discovering what is smouldering or why. Also, the lack of warning means you have a lot of sudden noise, which means not only do I get startled, but Andy is also more likely to melt down. Trying to keep everyone engaged is harder to do, and no guarantee of peace. It also means all the usual tricks are used up by lunchtime.
They are also dizzying. Laugh, giggle, quiet, SCREAM, giggle, SCREAM, fine, quiet, giggle, SCREAM. Mood changing so rapidly that it is hard to know which one is current, and no way to know why.
Having it happen on a cold, rainy day only exacerbates the issues. You can't put them outside to make noise for a while. They are caught inside with you.
So it looks like tonight will be a swell night to pull out some amaretto after the guys are in bed, taking three deep breaths, and hope school goes OK in the morning.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
When Children Beg for Vegetables
My children have been amusing the folks in the grocery store lately. When you come in to our grocery store, you come in to the produce section. Our produce section has vegetables lining the right wall, and the fruits in islands to the left. Most kids will zip past even these and head for the longer aisle beyond, with the sugary cereals or the poptarts or the chips. Not my kids. They make a beeline to the right...
...and beg me to buy broccoli.
I had Andy with me this week in the grocery, and we started off in the produce. He was wound up, asking me what each thing was. He became enamoured with a spaghetti squash, so I bought it for him to try. (Hey, any of you know what to do with a spaghetti squash? Because I haven't the slightest clue.) Even later, when he was screaming for some other thing, and he could have the sweet or the squash, he decided he wanted his squash.
I'd love to be able to write a long, wistful post about how many vegetables my kids eat a day, but I really can't. Usually, getting Andy to eat dinner at home is a battle. The only place he consistently eats is Grandma's, where he will eat from the time I leave him to go teach, until the time I pick him up. Granted, I usually leave him with a supply of ham, strawberries or grapes, and Cheetos. Not vegetables. But there you are. Joey likes vegetables OK, but the on;y one he really goes out of his way for is broccoli. I tried to send it in his lunch, but apparently raw broccoli is a different vegetable from hot, steamed broccoli.
But you still have to love kids who go into a grocery store and beg for mom to buy them vegetables. It certainly gets smiles out of even the most stolid and sour-looking shoppers.
...and beg me to buy broccoli.
I had Andy with me this week in the grocery, and we started off in the produce. He was wound up, asking me what each thing was. He became enamoured with a spaghetti squash, so I bought it for him to try. (Hey, any of you know what to do with a spaghetti squash? Because I haven't the slightest clue.) Even later, when he was screaming for some other thing, and he could have the sweet or the squash, he decided he wanted his squash.
I'd love to be able to write a long, wistful post about how many vegetables my kids eat a day, but I really can't. Usually, getting Andy to eat dinner at home is a battle. The only place he consistently eats is Grandma's, where he will eat from the time I leave him to go teach, until the time I pick him up. Granted, I usually leave him with a supply of ham, strawberries or grapes, and Cheetos. Not vegetables. But there you are. Joey likes vegetables OK, but the on;y one he really goes out of his way for is broccoli. I tried to send it in his lunch, but apparently raw broccoli is a different vegetable from hot, steamed broccoli.
But you still have to love kids who go into a grocery store and beg for mom to buy them vegetables. It certainly gets smiles out of even the most stolid and sour-looking shoppers.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Friday, March 06, 2009
Upcoming Campaigns
The plan is to start some new campaigns around here. Joey is six years old; he'll be seven in April. There are lots of things around the house he ought to be doing, and needs to start learning how to do. I am calling these the "independence campaigns" because they will include skills I believe Joey will need to be independent; things like cooking for himself and caring for his own things. However, I have no idea what seven-year-olds really can do. I am basing these skills on things I was doing at about seven, and remember doing myself at that age. Let me know if any of this sounds unreasonable.
The biggest campaign will be the cooking campaign. I thought I would start easy and rewarding: peanut butter sandwiches. However, we're going to knock it up a notch as well. At the book fair, Joey fell in love with a Sesame Street snack cookbook. I bought it because he was so enamoured with it- mostly with the fact Elmo was on the cover. He's been very into Elmo because of his classmates is very into Elmo, so they've been doing a lot of Sesame Street stuff at school, as well as Andy's new interest in Sesame Street at home. He gets it double-barreled. Then I actually got home and read the book- and it is really awesome. The recipes are simple, and most of them have several child-friendly steps. They are simple enough to include JOey in the prep as well as the actual cooking. Also, the recipes are relatively healthy, and emphasize healthy ingredients. So not only are we going to work on things like preparing his lunches himself, but also more general cooking- following instructions, following steps, and coming out with a yummy reward!
The bed-making campaign will also be starting. Changing Joey's daily routine in this way is going to be a huge deal. however, keeping things in order is going to be an important skill for Joey- especially if he has inherited some of my very poor cleaning and organizing skills. I'm going to have to wade through the sea of toys and cull the things he isn't interested in as well- make sure his things all have a place- so he can put his things there himself. Yep... a clean your room campaign!
Next, dressing. We know he puts on his own shoes at school, so we need to start having him do it at home. With new shoes, we have a ready-made excuse for the new change: you have new big-boy shoes, you need to put them on yourself. We kept the velcro. One thing at a time. However, we also are going to start looking at the buttons and zippers issue. Though he can get through life in pull-up pants, it will be easier if he can do snaps and buttons on jeans. I'm going to alert school on this one. The OT there swore he could do buttons two years ago, but we have yet to see any evidence of it. Its good for his fine motor skills!
And finally: sleeping in his own bed all night. I'll miss waking up with a little guy every morning, but the many nights in the recliner are not good on my back. He needs to be comfy in his own space!
Hmm, writing it down, it suddenly looks like a lot. We'll see how it goes.
The biggest campaign will be the cooking campaign. I thought I would start easy and rewarding: peanut butter sandwiches. However, we're going to knock it up a notch as well. At the book fair, Joey fell in love with a Sesame Street snack cookbook. I bought it because he was so enamoured with it- mostly with the fact Elmo was on the cover. He's been very into Elmo because of his classmates is very into Elmo, so they've been doing a lot of Sesame Street stuff at school, as well as Andy's new interest in Sesame Street at home. He gets it double-barreled. Then I actually got home and read the book- and it is really awesome. The recipes are simple, and most of them have several child-friendly steps. They are simple enough to include JOey in the prep as well as the actual cooking. Also, the recipes are relatively healthy, and emphasize healthy ingredients. So not only are we going to work on things like preparing his lunches himself, but also more general cooking- following instructions, following steps, and coming out with a yummy reward!
The bed-making campaign will also be starting. Changing Joey's daily routine in this way is going to be a huge deal. however, keeping things in order is going to be an important skill for Joey- especially if he has inherited some of my very poor cleaning and organizing skills. I'm going to have to wade through the sea of toys and cull the things he isn't interested in as well- make sure his things all have a place- so he can put his things there himself. Yep... a clean your room campaign!
Next, dressing. We know he puts on his own shoes at school, so we need to start having him do it at home. With new shoes, we have a ready-made excuse for the new change: you have new big-boy shoes, you need to put them on yourself. We kept the velcro. One thing at a time. However, we also are going to start looking at the buttons and zippers issue. Though he can get through life in pull-up pants, it will be easier if he can do snaps and buttons on jeans. I'm going to alert school on this one. The OT there swore he could do buttons two years ago, but we have yet to see any evidence of it. Its good for his fine motor skills!
And finally: sleeping in his own bed all night. I'll miss waking up with a little guy every morning, but the many nights in the recliner are not good on my back. He needs to be comfy in his own space!
Hmm, writing it down, it suddenly looks like a lot. We'll see how it goes.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Happy Spring, Happy IEP Season
Yes, the IEP season is fast closing in on us, and I find myself opening small word files and pulling out spiral notebooks, filling them with lists of things that might need focus in next year's program. I scatter these listing tools throughout the house. This is not just for IEP lists- I have spiral notebooks full of all sorts of lists of things I wanted to remember and needed to do. Then I promptly misplace the notebook. Anyway, I have these tools scattered through the house so that when I notice something needing attention, I can write it down, and try to remember to mention it to Mrs. H so it can be considered for IEP-worthiness.
This is not as easy as it sounds. After all, to me, Joey is Joey. I have no reference to "average" 6-year-olds running around my house for comparison. I have no idea what "average" 6-year-olds do, how they speak, what they like. I am still shocked to hear of first and second graders talking about House (and I'm a Hugh Laurie fan) or even High School Musical; my kids are still on Magic School Bus and Oswald, with a new smattering of Sesame Street. Joey likes Wow Wow Wubsy and Go Diego Go, but he has never watched the shows, he just likes the arcade-style games through the website. Superheroes? Joey doesn't know any. Star Wars? Why do 6-year-olds know about Star Wars??? I thought that was for the 8-to-12 crowd???
Thinking about him in terms of deficits is just not something we do. It takes something very obvious to catch our attention. For example, I have quite a few notes about his speech patterns, especially now that we've had an uptick in original, unscripted speech. Constructing original speech is very difficult for our little Mrs. Who, so all the mistakes in language, which you might expect from someone just learning to speak a language, are coming out in force. I can break them down and write them up into lovely IEP goals to make forming speech easier and more natural-sounding.
Field Day is a good day to come out and observe Joey. I learned this last year, when I felt the shock of seeing Joey in a room full of "average" kindergardeners, and how very different Joey really was. I was invited again to chaperone this year, so i was looking forward to getting an eyeful, and prepared myself for the eyeful. Realizing how hard it is for Joey to function and how much he really does struggle with things other kids find easy- everyday things like running and following a game- is really very hard. But this year, I was ready, I knew this was a tool for me to think about focusing effort and what skills needed more attention.
Then it snowed.
So now I am left to think of other options, other ways of getting the information I need to think about Joey and what he needs. Do I try to visit school while he is in one of his inclusion classrooms? Do I make more notes about issues we see at the park and other public venues? Where else can I get a good look at Joey in "average" contexts? What will these observations tell me? And will I remember where I wrote them down?
This is not as easy as it sounds. After all, to me, Joey is Joey. I have no reference to "average" 6-year-olds running around my house for comparison. I have no idea what "average" 6-year-olds do, how they speak, what they like. I am still shocked to hear of first and second graders talking about House (and I'm a Hugh Laurie fan) or even High School Musical; my kids are still on Magic School Bus and Oswald, with a new smattering of Sesame Street. Joey likes Wow Wow Wubsy and Go Diego Go, but he has never watched the shows, he just likes the arcade-style games through the website. Superheroes? Joey doesn't know any. Star Wars? Why do 6-year-olds know about Star Wars??? I thought that was for the 8-to-12 crowd???
Thinking about him in terms of deficits is just not something we do. It takes something very obvious to catch our attention. For example, I have quite a few notes about his speech patterns, especially now that we've had an uptick in original, unscripted speech. Constructing original speech is very difficult for our little Mrs. Who, so all the mistakes in language, which you might expect from someone just learning to speak a language, are coming out in force. I can break them down and write them up into lovely IEP goals to make forming speech easier and more natural-sounding.
Field Day is a good day to come out and observe Joey. I learned this last year, when I felt the shock of seeing Joey in a room full of "average" kindergardeners, and how very different Joey really was. I was invited again to chaperone this year, so i was looking forward to getting an eyeful, and prepared myself for the eyeful. Realizing how hard it is for Joey to function and how much he really does struggle with things other kids find easy- everyday things like running and following a game- is really very hard. But this year, I was ready, I knew this was a tool for me to think about focusing effort and what skills needed more attention.
Then it snowed.
So now I am left to think of other options, other ways of getting the information I need to think about Joey and what he needs. Do I try to visit school while he is in one of his inclusion classrooms? Do I make more notes about issues we see at the park and other public venues? Where else can I get a good look at Joey in "average" contexts? What will these observations tell me? And will I remember where I wrote them down?
Monday, March 02, 2009
Snow!
Forget that namby-pamby dusting we've been getting the last few years. This, folks, is snow.
I remember as a kid getting two or three of these a year. Once we were even snowed in at my mom's house for a couple of weeks. Wild. So I'm here with two happy, if cold and snowy, boys.
I remember as a kid getting two or three of these a year. Once we were even snowed in at my mom's house for a couple of weeks. Wild. So I'm here with two happy, if cold and snowy, boys.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Grumps
I'm supposed to be doing a mountain of grading, but I'm grumpy, and it is never fair to grade when grumpy. The fact that a barrage of student idiocy and rudeness is the cause of the grumpiness is beside the point. I just can't do it. It's not fair.
Besides, I've already grumped at my children, grumped at my husband, and grumped at the falling snow. I spent an inordinate amount of time in the grocery store today. When I left the house at 7 am, the forecast said something vaguely about two inches of snow on green areas. By the time I reached my mom's house, following a swimming adventure with Frick and Frack in which Frick was all about swimming and Frack just wanted to scream instead of dipping his face in the water (sometimes I wonder which one is the "special needs" one... perhaps that is something for another post), around 9:30 am, we were expecting 6-10 inches. Its never good when it snows in Atlanta. Only I didn't know we were now expecting a blizzard. I just didn't think twice when my mom asked me to run out and grab groceries for her, because she's been sick and even two inches of snow can be a problem on her dirt road. When I got home after meeting JoeyAndyDad at Chuck E. Cheese (where the boys had a marvelous time, despite the crowd because we got there later than planned) and discovered the new predictions, back to the grocery I went. There is a huge difference between "might have to entertain the boys with snow for a few hours" and "may be stuck in house with boys for two days". (Since we live in the city, I doubt we'll be stuck here longer than that, even if it doesn't immediately warm up.)
Whenever the "s-word" hits the forecasts, people around here go nuts. I went a little nuts myself, buying things like chips and crackers I wouldn't normally buy, and more drinks than usual, but I felt I was kinda prepping for a snow party. The people around me seemed to be stocking up for a major blizzard, as if they expected to be snowed in for the week. Actually, more like for the month. A week's worth of groceries on a Sunday wouldn't be that unusual, except for the huge number of people buying them; but these folks were going crazy. It also was putting off my nice, comfy schedule. This should have been a wonderfully relaxing day: a morning swim, a visit to Grandma's, a fun early lunch at Chuck E. Cheese, then home for an afternoon of cleaning the basement and enthusiastic boy-squishing, followed by a bit of grading after bedtime. Instead, I spent a lot of time crunched with crazed idiots who thought the world was ending, or would if they didn't have a month's supply of toilet paper right now.
I could do a whole blog just on adventures I have in grocery stores.
And instead of getting to read lovely stories about snow to my beautiful boys, I spent an hour trying to solve problems for students who, it turned out, weren't interested in solutions. That makes me really, really grumpy, especially when those students sent me emails of desperation complete with TMI excuses for why their work wasn't getting done, in cranky tones- as if it was my fault they hadn't bothered to do anything earlier in the week when solutions could have been easier to implement. And I still have three weeks' of discussions and two sets of exams staring at me. If I stuck an A on each and every one of them and tossed them back, not one of those students would care. In fact, they'd probably be happy. Who needs to learn stuff, anyway? How depressing is that?
Outside, the snow keeps falling, which means tomorrow's Field Day will likely be cancelled. In fact, I'm likely to have a snow day with my little guys, so I made sure I had hot chocolate with marshmallows on hand. If I don't get to grading soon, my grumpy butt will be stuck grading exams instead of playing in the snow. And that would just suck.
Besides, I've already grumped at my children, grumped at my husband, and grumped at the falling snow. I spent an inordinate amount of time in the grocery store today. When I left the house at 7 am, the forecast said something vaguely about two inches of snow on green areas. By the time I reached my mom's house, following a swimming adventure with Frick and Frack in which Frick was all about swimming and Frack just wanted to scream instead of dipping his face in the water (sometimes I wonder which one is the "special needs" one... perhaps that is something for another post), around 9:30 am, we were expecting 6-10 inches. Its never good when it snows in Atlanta. Only I didn't know we were now expecting a blizzard. I just didn't think twice when my mom asked me to run out and grab groceries for her, because she's been sick and even two inches of snow can be a problem on her dirt road. When I got home after meeting JoeyAndyDad at Chuck E. Cheese (where the boys had a marvelous time, despite the crowd because we got there later than planned) and discovered the new predictions, back to the grocery I went. There is a huge difference between "might have to entertain the boys with snow for a few hours" and "may be stuck in house with boys for two days". (Since we live in the city, I doubt we'll be stuck here longer than that, even if it doesn't immediately warm up.)
Whenever the "s-word" hits the forecasts, people around here go nuts. I went a little nuts myself, buying things like chips and crackers I wouldn't normally buy, and more drinks than usual, but I felt I was kinda prepping for a snow party. The people around me seemed to be stocking up for a major blizzard, as if they expected to be snowed in for the week. Actually, more like for the month. A week's worth of groceries on a Sunday wouldn't be that unusual, except for the huge number of people buying them; but these folks were going crazy. It also was putting off my nice, comfy schedule. This should have been a wonderfully relaxing day: a morning swim, a visit to Grandma's, a fun early lunch at Chuck E. Cheese, then home for an afternoon of cleaning the basement and enthusiastic boy-squishing, followed by a bit of grading after bedtime. Instead, I spent a lot of time crunched with crazed idiots who thought the world was ending, or would if they didn't have a month's supply of toilet paper right now.
I could do a whole blog just on adventures I have in grocery stores.
And instead of getting to read lovely stories about snow to my beautiful boys, I spent an hour trying to solve problems for students who, it turned out, weren't interested in solutions. That makes me really, really grumpy, especially when those students sent me emails of desperation complete with TMI excuses for why their work wasn't getting done, in cranky tones- as if it was my fault they hadn't bothered to do anything earlier in the week when solutions could have been easier to implement. And I still have three weeks' of discussions and two sets of exams staring at me. If I stuck an A on each and every one of them and tossed them back, not one of those students would care. In fact, they'd probably be happy. Who needs to learn stuff, anyway? How depressing is that?
Outside, the snow keeps falling, which means tomorrow's Field Day will likely be cancelled. In fact, I'm likely to have a snow day with my little guys, so I made sure I had hot chocolate with marshmallows on hand. If I don't get to grading soon, my grumpy butt will be stuck grading exams instead of playing in the snow. And that would just suck.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Rest Well, Paul Harvey
A voice from my childhood was silenced today.
I remember riding in the back seat as my folks took a drive, bouncing down 522 through Woodville and Scrabble, listening to Paul Harvey. It was a voice from a golden age, lost to modern walkman-toting teens like me. He read the advertisements the same way he read the news, as if he were encouraging a friend to buy this wonderful thing. he used small details of lives to illuminate what it really meant to be an American, to value freedom and practice respect. He made you think about larger issues in human scale, and understand why integrity and self-respect were important, the larger effects of small acts of honesty, kindness, and compassion. He opened up the possibilities by showing how everyday people became extraordinary. It was more than just cold facts in a news article; there was a very human side, a lot of shades of gray, even in the most black-and-white moments. What choices would you make? Where would those small choices lead in the larger world?
You could count to a surprise ending, a twist in the tale that showed how this yarn, itself a masterpiece of values in hard work, caring for others, and doing the right thing for its own sake, was actually about a larger personality, a small moment in a life that was changing the world. Small moments became momentous. He revealed the deeper fiber of a person in a single episode from everyday living.
I wish I knew more about Paul Harvey, who revealed so much about others, and showed us exactly why they- and we- were great. I wish I had the rest of the story.
Good day.
I remember riding in the back seat as my folks took a drive, bouncing down 522 through Woodville and Scrabble, listening to Paul Harvey. It was a voice from a golden age, lost to modern walkman-toting teens like me. He read the advertisements the same way he read the news, as if he were encouraging a friend to buy this wonderful thing. he used small details of lives to illuminate what it really meant to be an American, to value freedom and practice respect. He made you think about larger issues in human scale, and understand why integrity and self-respect were important, the larger effects of small acts of honesty, kindness, and compassion. He opened up the possibilities by showing how everyday people became extraordinary. It was more than just cold facts in a news article; there was a very human side, a lot of shades of gray, even in the most black-and-white moments. What choices would you make? Where would those small choices lead in the larger world?
You could count to a surprise ending, a twist in the tale that showed how this yarn, itself a masterpiece of values in hard work, caring for others, and doing the right thing for its own sake, was actually about a larger personality, a small moment in a life that was changing the world. Small moments became momentous. He revealed the deeper fiber of a person in a single episode from everyday living.
I wish I knew more about Paul Harvey, who revealed so much about others, and showed us exactly why they- and we- were great. I wish I had the rest of the story.
Good day.
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.
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