Andy does not eat bread. Or noodles. Oh, that includes things like flatbread and pita.
So I need breadless lunch ideas. He's been subsisting on cheese sticks, cheese crackers, and cheez whiz snacks. I haven't had luck with cream cheese or cottage cheese. He doesn't like eggs. Sending in plain lunchmeat worked... for a while. Not anymore. He's not eating yogurt anymore, either.
And the fact is, the child needs to eat. He's skinny as a rail, and constantly on the move. I'm worried about his future health if all I can get him to eat are pre-packaged junk foods His body may be able to handle them now, but what about ten years from now? Twenty? And all that salt can't be doing him any good.
We're in a world of kids with strange food preferences and limited diets. What do you send in those school lunchboxes? Help!
Thanks!
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Pot Luck Magazine Call for Submissions
Yes, I am still the layout editor for Pot Luck! We are currently looking for your contributions! Check it out here!
For my part, I am working on a spread about winter holidays for the winter issue, due out Dec 15. I'm also working on cookie recipes! Deadline for submissions is Nov 30. However, I am also looking for gardening, crafting, and kitchen/cooking info, tips, recipes, etc. for all year round! After all, after the winter issue comes the spring issue... then the summer issue... then the fall issue... then we start over again...
Just to get folks thinking, I am looking at a variety of topics that are seasonally connected, and I'd like to build up a repertoire of material that I can include in these sections, instead of it being just my own voice. For the last issue (Fall), we did tomatoes (including canning) and corn, because we had a couple of recipes and ideas, and I just added more material to fill out the spreads and bridge between late summer and fall. Next year, I am hoping to do pumpkins and gourds and a second (as yet unknown) fall ideas spread.
So far, Pot Luck has been mostly a lit mag, but we want to expand to include a variety of voices and styles. The point is to get people reading, thinking, and talking! Come join us!
For my part, I am working on a spread about winter holidays for the winter issue, due out Dec 15. I'm also working on cookie recipes! Deadline for submissions is Nov 30. However, I am also looking for gardening, crafting, and kitchen/cooking info, tips, recipes, etc. for all year round! After all, after the winter issue comes the spring issue... then the summer issue... then the fall issue... then we start over again...
Just to get folks thinking, I am looking at a variety of topics that are seasonally connected, and I'd like to build up a repertoire of material that I can include in these sections, instead of it being just my own voice. For the last issue (Fall), we did tomatoes (including canning) and corn, because we had a couple of recipes and ideas, and I just added more material to fill out the spreads and bridge between late summer and fall. Next year, I am hoping to do pumpkins and gourds and a second (as yet unknown) fall ideas spread.
So far, Pot Luck has been mostly a lit mag, but we want to expand to include a variety of voices and styles. The point is to get people reading, thinking, and talking! Come join us!
Monday, November 08, 2010
A Tale of Two Days
Saturday.
Joey and Andy were in giggly moods. They wrestled and hugged all day long. Andy tried to pull off one of Joey's shoes, and ended up dragging Joey across the floor instead; they both thought this was hilarious. Laughter reigned.
Sunday.
After a walk around Wakefield (turkeyless, thank goodness), which just kind of went so-so, a key broke on Joey's computer while he was playing a game.
All hell broke loose.
Screaming, throwing things, throwing himself, refusing to go to his room to calm down, yelling at us to "kill me, please!" We had the talk about facing your mistakes. We talked about how the key coming off the computer wasn't entirely his fault, and that it was fixed (yay, JoeyAndyDad!), and nothing to be this upset about. It took him a good half-hour to calm down. We didn't want to over-react to the pleading, because he seems to know these words get swift and dramatic reaction. We don't want to completely ignore it, either.
But what a difference a day makes. And this morning? Got up and bounced off to school.
I hope he had a good day.
Joey and Andy were in giggly moods. They wrestled and hugged all day long. Andy tried to pull off one of Joey's shoes, and ended up dragging Joey across the floor instead; they both thought this was hilarious. Laughter reigned.
Sunday.
After a walk around Wakefield (turkeyless, thank goodness), which just kind of went so-so, a key broke on Joey's computer while he was playing a game.
All hell broke loose.
Screaming, throwing things, throwing himself, refusing to go to his room to calm down, yelling at us to "kill me, please!" We had the talk about facing your mistakes. We talked about how the key coming off the computer wasn't entirely his fault, and that it was fixed (yay, JoeyAndyDad!), and nothing to be this upset about. It took him a good half-hour to calm down. We didn't want to over-react to the pleading, because he seems to know these words get swift and dramatic reaction. We don't want to completely ignore it, either.
But what a difference a day makes. And this morning? Got up and bounced off to school.
I hope he had a good day.
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
Living The Penguin Life
Some time ago, Mom-NOS came up with the perfect metaphor for autistic kids in the neurotypical world.
Here, I present a lame imitation, because I have been watching A Wish For Wings That Work, and it so fits our world.
We live in a duck world. The world is full of ducks- versatile creatures who swim, dive, and fly. They can soar magnificently through the skies, then plunge into the depths. Nobody worries about the waddling, because hey, everybody waddles. So its cool.
My kid is a penguin.
The difference between ducks and penguins is not so great as between toasters in hair dryers. You would never mistake a hair dryer for a toaster. But with ducks and penguins, they are both birds. It might take a minute to point out differences. After all, they both waddle. They both swim. They both have feathers. They are both birds.
At the same time, a penguin is not a duck. Penguins waddle, but they walk upright. They swim, but instead of just kicking with their feet, they use their wings as well. Penguins are excellent swimmers, and they get the waddling thing done in their own way.
But they cannot fly.
Penguins living in a duck world spend their lives being ridiculed and pushed about not being able to fly. After all, they are birds, they have feathers, why can't they fly? Teachers push them to fly. Peers tease them about not being able to fly. There is an obsession with flight in their families, because after all, this is a world where birds fly!
Penguins cannot fly. They are not made to fly. They're penguins, not ducks. They can swim far better than ducks, but that is ignored by ducks in a duck world.
What is great about A Wish For Wings That Work is it shows us that it is important to have a variety of talents and gifts in the world. A duck and ice water don't get along, but penguins swim beautifully in it. We need penguins. Just in case Santa falls into an icy pond and needs to be rescued.
Another interesting sideline is how Opus treats Bill throughout the film. The rejection of others who are disabled by people with their own disabilities is something we are noticing more and more. On the surface, Bill has no talents to share. But look closer at the clips. Bill has loyalty, he has the brains to know who can help. He may smell of brussel sprouts, but he is not useless. He's trying to live in a duck world, too.
And best of all, Opus does fly at the end. With some help and support, some appreciation for the talents of others and support for their challenges, we can all live in a duck world. Or perhaps, just the world.
Here, I present a lame imitation, because I have been watching A Wish For Wings That Work, and it so fits our world.
We live in a duck world. The world is full of ducks- versatile creatures who swim, dive, and fly. They can soar magnificently through the skies, then plunge into the depths. Nobody worries about the waddling, because hey, everybody waddles. So its cool.
My kid is a penguin.
The difference between ducks and penguins is not so great as between toasters in hair dryers. You would never mistake a hair dryer for a toaster. But with ducks and penguins, they are both birds. It might take a minute to point out differences. After all, they both waddle. They both swim. They both have feathers. They are both birds.
At the same time, a penguin is not a duck. Penguins waddle, but they walk upright. They swim, but instead of just kicking with their feet, they use their wings as well. Penguins are excellent swimmers, and they get the waddling thing done in their own way.
But they cannot fly.
Penguins living in a duck world spend their lives being ridiculed and pushed about not being able to fly. After all, they are birds, they have feathers, why can't they fly? Teachers push them to fly. Peers tease them about not being able to fly. There is an obsession with flight in their families, because after all, this is a world where birds fly!
Penguins cannot fly. They are not made to fly. They're penguins, not ducks. They can swim far better than ducks, but that is ignored by ducks in a duck world.
What is great about A Wish For Wings That Work is it shows us that it is important to have a variety of talents and gifts in the world. A duck and ice water don't get along, but penguins swim beautifully in it. We need penguins. Just in case Santa falls into an icy pond and needs to be rescued.
Another interesting sideline is how Opus treats Bill throughout the film. The rejection of others who are disabled by people with their own disabilities is something we are noticing more and more. On the surface, Bill has no talents to share. But look closer at the clips. Bill has loyalty, he has the brains to know who can help. He may smell of brussel sprouts, but he is not useless. He's trying to live in a duck world, too.
And best of all, Opus does fly at the end. With some help and support, some appreciation for the talents of others and support for their challenges, we can all live in a duck world. Or perhaps, just the world.
Monday, November 01, 2010
When Silence Is Not Golden
My son is autistic.
He repeats words and phrases to comfort himself and make himself laugh. He sometimes picks up on words when you least expect him to, and then repeats them for weeks.
He uses language to communicate emotions by attaching emotions to words, even when those words may make no sense out of their original context. He often repeats blocks of words and phrases he has heard before, modifying them slightly to fit what he wants the words to do.
When frustrated or angry, he often runs out of words and cannot process language effectively, either expressive or receptive. The result can be a meltdown or an attempt to escape the painful emotions.
He loves people, but is unsure how to talk to them or react to them, and finds them confusingly unpredictable. He also loves and fears dogs for the same reason.
He reads beautifully, but hates doing it because it "hurts".
If someone is hurt, he is the first to be in at their side and trying to make them feel better.
He loves math. His favorite game is to think up math questions to ask and giggling over the answers.
If someone teases or bullies him, he does not have the social skills to manage the situation or the language skills to effectively report it to someone else. He is hurt and sad, but cannot explain why. He gets grumpy and touchy, but can't express the connections to the problem.
He understands you better if you use sign language while you are speaking. If you show him "I love you," he will say, "I love you, too!"
If you ask him about his day, he will recite his schedule, or script an answer. But he gets grumpy if you don't ask.
I remember the silence. I remember the days of wondering what was brewing in that golden head, and eagerly awaiting every sound, every word. My son's voice may not be what anyone expects, but if you listen, he is filled with the joy of the world around him, and is sharing it the best he can- and has insights to share in seeing the world through his eyes. You just have to take the time to listen.
So listen up. Joey is speaking.
He repeats words and phrases to comfort himself and make himself laugh. He sometimes picks up on words when you least expect him to, and then repeats them for weeks.
He uses language to communicate emotions by attaching emotions to words, even when those words may make no sense out of their original context. He often repeats blocks of words and phrases he has heard before, modifying them slightly to fit what he wants the words to do.
When frustrated or angry, he often runs out of words and cannot process language effectively, either expressive or receptive. The result can be a meltdown or an attempt to escape the painful emotions.
He loves people, but is unsure how to talk to them or react to them, and finds them confusingly unpredictable. He also loves and fears dogs for the same reason.
He reads beautifully, but hates doing it because it "hurts".
If someone is hurt, he is the first to be in at their side and trying to make them feel better.
He loves math. His favorite game is to think up math questions to ask and giggling over the answers.
If someone teases or bullies him, he does not have the social skills to manage the situation or the language skills to effectively report it to someone else. He is hurt and sad, but cannot explain why. He gets grumpy and touchy, but can't express the connections to the problem.
He understands you better if you use sign language while you are speaking. If you show him "I love you," he will say, "I love you, too!"
If you ask him about his day, he will recite his schedule, or script an answer. But he gets grumpy if you don't ask.
I remember the silence. I remember the days of wondering what was brewing in that golden head, and eagerly awaiting every sound, every word. My son's voice may not be what anyone expects, but if you listen, he is filled with the joy of the world around him, and is sharing it the best he can- and has insights to share in seeing the world through his eyes. You just have to take the time to listen.
So listen up. Joey is speaking.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Week 8, Meeting 8
So we met with the Math Differentiation Teacher, whom we can call Ms. Math, today to discuss Joey. She had given him the third grade test and the fourth grade test. Funny enough, he flunked the third grade test, and passed the fourth grade test. How's them apples?
First, I'd like to say that my first impression of Ms. Math is that she rocks, and she's just the kind of person Joey responds well to- very huggy, happy, and enthusiastic. Her idea was that Joey needs to have the material presented, but clearly picks things up so fast that he needs a lot of "enrichment"- activities to use the skills and expand upon them. She's going to go check him out in person and for herself next week. She seems very excited. I'd say Joey is about to rock her world in a totally fabulous way.
We'll see what happens.
First, I'd like to say that my first impression of Ms. Math is that she rocks, and she's just the kind of person Joey responds well to- very huggy, happy, and enthusiastic. Her idea was that Joey needs to have the material presented, but clearly picks things up so fast that he needs a lot of "enrichment"- activities to use the skills and expand upon them. She's going to go check him out in person and for herself next week. She seems very excited. I'd say Joey is about to rock her world in a totally fabulous way.
We'll see what happens.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOEYANDYDAD!
We love you. Hope you have a fantabulous birthday!
Added: Joey's birthday card for his Dad:
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Week 8, Meeting 7
This week's meeting: the Functional Behavior Assessment. This is the meeting you have when your child's behavior is challenging and disruptive, so the school decides they better figure it out quick. Let's not get into a discussion of the meaning of "quick." Personally, from the time I agreed to the FBA to the time of meeting, in school terms, I think they did really well.
This was one of the better meetings I've been to. After, how cool is a meeting that is specifically for sitting around brainstorming about what is possibly causing behavior, and how to help him learn to cope with those antecedents? I took my mom with me, which always helps, because she tends to cut right to what we are seeing from home without beating around the bush, and she has no fear of our school psych. Fortunately, the school psych was actually helpful this time. Oh, and the OT? Nowhere to be found. We'll count that as a positive, too.
So we had a room full of Joey's teachers, all of whom are interested in helping him. This last couple of weeks I think has really helped Joey- not only have we gotten his anxiety levels into his normal range, but his teachers have gotten a chance to see what Joey is really like. This has given people a chance to fall in love with him. Or at least in like. Or at the very least, see what he is really capable of if he is supported properly. Any of these three things can make a huge difference, because it gives these teachers a chance to realize they can make a huge difference. That's why most of these people went into teaching in the first place. Hey, I teach, too. I know how much more fun and awesome it is to teach a student who rocks, even when they need support and lots of attention. When you see the potential and the determination is there, you are more ready to go for it. Joey has potential and determination. And he's squishy into the bargain.
So everybody came out with some new ideas, new strategies, and new things to try. I think we can call this one a "win."
Up next: Meeting 8: What To Do About Joey the Math Genius.
This was one of the better meetings I've been to. After, how cool is a meeting that is specifically for sitting around brainstorming about what is possibly causing behavior, and how to help him learn to cope with those antecedents? I took my mom with me, which always helps, because she tends to cut right to what we are seeing from home without beating around the bush, and she has no fear of our school psych. Fortunately, the school psych was actually helpful this time. Oh, and the OT? Nowhere to be found. We'll count that as a positive, too.
So we had a room full of Joey's teachers, all of whom are interested in helping him. This last couple of weeks I think has really helped Joey- not only have we gotten his anxiety levels into his normal range, but his teachers have gotten a chance to see what Joey is really like. This has given people a chance to fall in love with him. Or at least in like. Or at the very least, see what he is really capable of if he is supported properly. Any of these three things can make a huge difference, because it gives these teachers a chance to realize they can make a huge difference. That's why most of these people went into teaching in the first place. Hey, I teach, too. I know how much more fun and awesome it is to teach a student who rocks, even when they need support and lots of attention. When you see the potential and the determination is there, you are more ready to go for it. Joey has potential and determination. And he's squishy into the bargain.
So everybody came out with some new ideas, new strategies, and new things to try. I think we can call this one a "win."
Up next: Meeting 8: What To Do About Joey the Math Genius.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Considering: The Joeymom Avatar
My boys are growing up. Kids grow up whether you raise them or not. It's a time thing. Time keeps marching on.
Some folks have asked me why I am Joeymom and Not JoeyAndyMom (especially since my husband is JoeyAndyDad, and the blog address is joeyandymom). It's a time thing. When I set up this blog, I was using an older blogger account, and just set up a new blog instead of starting it all from scratch. I had been Joeymom for a couple years before Andy came along. Funny enough, I don't think anybody who actually knew me online in those two years is anywhere on the radar now. Something about no longer being able to compare my kid's milestones to theirs. Moms can be funny things.
When I set up the blog, the new thing was picking an avatar: a little picture to represent me to the internet world. This was new and exciting for me four and a half years ago. I started my internet life with text-based MUDs. Even chat rooms had minimal choices for little pictures to go with your name. I knew this was important, though. When your contact with a person is exclusively online, that little visual image is how they think of you. Art is a powerful addition to a world based entirely on the visual. Now I would be more than words, I would be a little picture.
Should it just be my face? That may sound logical, and in fact, is the option selected by many online. But what does my face really say about me? After all, an avatar is a mini-portrait: a creation of your online presence, much more about who you are than what you look like. An image that gets recalled and connected to you, to your presence, to your "I was here!" in the comments section, something to search for along the many tweets and have that leap of, "oh good! something from you!" when it is scanned and found. Is my face a powerful enough message? How about using the boys?
Besides, the avatar is usually pretty small. About a half-inch square. How legible is my face at that size? And trying to fit two faces in there? Ha! Perhaps something a little more legible in mini would be better. Something like Maddy's goldfish- clear, loaded with symbolism and meaning, and yummy. Maybe something like Miss Kitty's cat, which goes with the name and expresses love for cats. Or Stimey's gerbil. Actually, that kinda fits her to a T. She kinda look like that gerbil. Cute and fuzzy with the tiny claws ready in case you threaten to mess with her, if you know what I mean. Seriously, meet this woman, and tell me I'm wrong. Stimey totally rocks, in a comforting, wonderful way.
Maybe something more graphic. Sunday's banshee comes to mind. Or one of my favorites, mommydearest's gothgirl.
Right. So I made my choice. And I chose...
Uma.
For those of you unaware of our history, Joey basically learned to talk watching Oobi, with the help and support of intensive early interventions. He loved Oobi, the talking hands on Noggin. The show is hilarious, gentle, imaginative, and beautifully captures the concerns of young children. Uma is Oobi's little sister. No, that isn't my hand. I can tell you that the voice is Stephanie D'Abruzzo, but I am not sure if she is also the "puppeteer" or not.
I have been Uma now for four and a half years. I wonder how many people think of me as a hand puppet with googly eyes. Hey, Stimey, do I look like Uma? Or more like a Shmoo?
My kids are 6 and 8 now. Oobi has been left behind with a world of preschool cares and joys. They are growing up. I do sometimes miss those little babies, so squishable and giggly, but I do so love the boys they have become, and I look forward to teh men they are going to be. Perhaps it is time to move along, and find something new.
Maybe a shmoo.
Some folks have asked me why I am Joeymom and Not JoeyAndyMom (especially since my husband is JoeyAndyDad, and the blog address is joeyandymom). It's a time thing. When I set up this blog, I was using an older blogger account, and just set up a new blog instead of starting it all from scratch. I had been Joeymom for a couple years before Andy came along. Funny enough, I don't think anybody who actually knew me online in those two years is anywhere on the radar now. Something about no longer being able to compare my kid's milestones to theirs. Moms can be funny things.
When I set up the blog, the new thing was picking an avatar: a little picture to represent me to the internet world. This was new and exciting for me four and a half years ago. I started my internet life with text-based MUDs. Even chat rooms had minimal choices for little pictures to go with your name. I knew this was important, though. When your contact with a person is exclusively online, that little visual image is how they think of you. Art is a powerful addition to a world based entirely on the visual. Now I would be more than words, I would be a little picture.
Should it just be my face? That may sound logical, and in fact, is the option selected by many online. But what does my face really say about me? After all, an avatar is a mini-portrait: a creation of your online presence, much more about who you are than what you look like. An image that gets recalled and connected to you, to your presence, to your "I was here!" in the comments section, something to search for along the many tweets and have that leap of, "oh good! something from you!" when it is scanned and found. Is my face a powerful enough message? How about using the boys?
Besides, the avatar is usually pretty small. About a half-inch square. How legible is my face at that size? And trying to fit two faces in there? Ha! Perhaps something a little more legible in mini would be better. Something like Maddy's goldfish- clear, loaded with symbolism and meaning, and yummy. Maybe something like Miss Kitty's cat, which goes with the name and expresses love for cats. Or Stimey's gerbil. Actually, that kinda fits her to a T. She kinda look like that gerbil. Cute and fuzzy with the tiny claws ready in case you threaten to mess with her, if you know what I mean. Seriously, meet this woman, and tell me I'm wrong. Stimey totally rocks, in a comforting, wonderful way.
Maybe something more graphic. Sunday's banshee comes to mind. Or one of my favorites, mommydearest's gothgirl.
Right. So I made my choice. And I chose...
Uma.
For those of you unaware of our history, Joey basically learned to talk watching Oobi, with the help and support of intensive early interventions. He loved Oobi, the talking hands on Noggin. The show is hilarious, gentle, imaginative, and beautifully captures the concerns of young children. Uma is Oobi's little sister. No, that isn't my hand. I can tell you that the voice is Stephanie D'Abruzzo, but I am not sure if she is also the "puppeteer" or not.
I have been Uma now for four and a half years. I wonder how many people think of me as a hand puppet with googly eyes. Hey, Stimey, do I look like Uma? Or more like a Shmoo?
My kids are 6 and 8 now. Oobi has been left behind with a world of preschool cares and joys. They are growing up. I do sometimes miss those little babies, so squishable and giggly, but I do so love the boys they have become, and I look forward to teh men they are going to be. Perhaps it is time to move along, and find something new.
Maybe a shmoo.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Enjoy the Ride
Sometimes when the boys are all bouncy and out-of-sorts, we find it a good idea to break it up, so each little guy gets some 1:1 time with Mom or Dad. Such was today.
It was my turn to have the Joey-Boy all to myself. Joey has been too overwhelmed to be able to actually pick out a nice pumpkin or enjoy the pumpkin patch, one of his favorite activities. I was so glad when he said he wanted to go for his activity. Off to Snead's for a fun-filled afternoon of chickens, hay, and pumpkins!
I didn't take a camera. I just spent the afternoon enjoying being with my son.
As part of the treat, he got to sit in the front seat with Mom. We drove through the fields, looking at the growing Christmas trees, the overgrown asparagus fields, and of course the pumpkins. We drove through the ford to the back fields, a very exciting moment as we were in my little neon, not the jeep, and it rained yesterday. We took our time picking out pumpkins. He picked a green one, of course, and then we picked out a really big orange one together. We wandered back to park near the barns, so he could play in the hay. We patted goats. We hugged baby cows. We giggled at alpacas. We even touched a baby chicken!
Then we went for a hay ride. The lady who runs the tractor saw us and laughed about us being return customers. Something to the effect of "you should get bulk rates!" But she didn't give us bulk rates. Besides, it was just the two of us today. Our hay ride was a small group. Joey bounced around the cart- looking through the floor slats at the ground passing beneath and the wheels turning, checking out the different places to sit in search of the best view, trying out laying down, sitting up, laying on his back, laying on his tummy. He called out random words to the pumpkins and to the people we passed. He giggled. He leaned against me. He wrote in the air with a stick. He looked at me like I was crazy when I pointed out the pumpkins and the trees and the horses. He was busy.
We played in the corn teepee for a while. It really needs some restoration now; it was really lovely when it was first done, now it is about to fall over. We wandered past the alpacas again, and picked out some gourds. Then he found the golf cart. Folks from the farm use it to tool around and check on things. Apparently, they leave the keys in it. Joey loves golf carts. He wanted to get in it, but I managed to get him over to the gourds to pick some out. He liked ones with lots of colors and bumps. When I was young, the popular gourd was a little white one that looked like a shmoo. I like those, but you don't see them anymore. (If anybody remembers them and can tell me what they are called, I would be very happy. It is not a white cushaw, they are too bumpy; these were smooth).
As I was paying for them, I heard the golf cart start up. I looked up to call Joey so he could see one of the farm people riding in it, and wave... to find that it was Joey. One quick call and he stopped, thank all goodness! But it also was a good signal that it was time to go home. Joey started on his "I'm a stupid boy" routine because he was upset (and probably embarrassed) about his golf cart adventure, so I softened it a little by letting him look at the baby chicks one more time (they were right next to the car). Then we had a talk about safety and how you have to be 16 to drive a golf cart as we started for home.
He said he'd like one for Christmas, anyway.
It was my turn to have the Joey-Boy all to myself. Joey has been too overwhelmed to be able to actually pick out a nice pumpkin or enjoy the pumpkin patch, one of his favorite activities. I was so glad when he said he wanted to go for his activity. Off to Snead's for a fun-filled afternoon of chickens, hay, and pumpkins!
I didn't take a camera. I just spent the afternoon enjoying being with my son.
As part of the treat, he got to sit in the front seat with Mom. We drove through the fields, looking at the growing Christmas trees, the overgrown asparagus fields, and of course the pumpkins. We drove through the ford to the back fields, a very exciting moment as we were in my little neon, not the jeep, and it rained yesterday. We took our time picking out pumpkins. He picked a green one, of course, and then we picked out a really big orange one together. We wandered back to park near the barns, so he could play in the hay. We patted goats. We hugged baby cows. We giggled at alpacas. We even touched a baby chicken!
Then we went for a hay ride. The lady who runs the tractor saw us and laughed about us being return customers. Something to the effect of "you should get bulk rates!" But she didn't give us bulk rates. Besides, it was just the two of us today. Our hay ride was a small group. Joey bounced around the cart- looking through the floor slats at the ground passing beneath and the wheels turning, checking out the different places to sit in search of the best view, trying out laying down, sitting up, laying on his back, laying on his tummy. He called out random words to the pumpkins and to the people we passed. He giggled. He leaned against me. He wrote in the air with a stick. He looked at me like I was crazy when I pointed out the pumpkins and the trees and the horses. He was busy.
We played in the corn teepee for a while. It really needs some restoration now; it was really lovely when it was first done, now it is about to fall over. We wandered past the alpacas again, and picked out some gourds. Then he found the golf cart. Folks from the farm use it to tool around and check on things. Apparently, they leave the keys in it. Joey loves golf carts. He wanted to get in it, but I managed to get him over to the gourds to pick some out. He liked ones with lots of colors and bumps. When I was young, the popular gourd was a little white one that looked like a shmoo. I like those, but you don't see them anymore. (If anybody remembers them and can tell me what they are called, I would be very happy. It is not a white cushaw, they are too bumpy; these were smooth).
As I was paying for them, I heard the golf cart start up. I looked up to call Joey so he could see one of the farm people riding in it, and wave... to find that it was Joey. One quick call and he stopped, thank all goodness! But it also was a good signal that it was time to go home. Joey started on his "I'm a stupid boy" routine because he was upset (and probably embarrassed) about his golf cart adventure, so I softened it a little by letting him look at the baby chicks one more time (they were right next to the car). Then we had a talk about safety and how you have to be 16 to drive a golf cart as we started for home.
He said he'd like one for Christmas, anyway.
Friday, October 15, 2010
A Day Off
Today is Friday. That means it is my "day off." This is the one day I don't work any of my jobs. The children are in school. The husband is at work. The purpose of this day is to nap. That never seems to actually happen.
What usually happens is it gets cancelled. And I end up running around getting nothing I intended to do done.
Today, I totally kicked butt and took names.
I got the guys on the buses with no pouting, screaming, or tears. Win.
I went home and moved the rest of the boxes I needed to move out of the guest room into the attic. Win.
I moved some furniture that also needed to be moved. Win.
I got dinner going in the crockpot (Autumn succotash stew!) Win.
I removed my entire fabric collection to the attic for the holiday season, so we can stop tripping over it in the livingroom or kicking it under the table in the kitchen. two large plastic storage bins, five bankers' boxes, and three assorted shipping boxes' worth. Not counting the collection already in the attic. I love fabric. Win.
I made my bed. Win.
I made Joey's bed. Win.
I cleared the mantel to prepare for Halloween decorations. Win.
I got the Halloween decorations out and the mantel decorated. Win.
I bought cat food and fish water. Win.
I dropped off some baby toys and books at school to be used or passed on to Ms. Macy's little darling. Win.
I got to talk to Ms. H and Ms. Macy. Bonus Win.
I got to have lunch with Mom. Superwin.
We tried to go to Joey's book fair, and discovered the school was in lockdown. Fail. And we never did find out why it was in lockdown.
So we went shopping at Tuesday Morning instead. I got a new roaster pan for Thanksgiving. Very win.
I got the fish tank cleaned and the water changed. Win.
We got the boys, then dropped Mom off at her truck, and spent the afternoon playing games and watching Halloween movies and squishing boys. WIN.
That's a rockin' day off!
What usually happens is it gets cancelled. And I end up running around getting nothing I intended to do done.
Today, I totally kicked butt and took names.
I got the guys on the buses with no pouting, screaming, or tears. Win.
I went home and moved the rest of the boxes I needed to move out of the guest room into the attic. Win.
I moved some furniture that also needed to be moved. Win.
I got dinner going in the crockpot (Autumn succotash stew!) Win.
I removed my entire fabric collection to the attic for the holiday season, so we can stop tripping over it in the livingroom or kicking it under the table in the kitchen. two large plastic storage bins, five bankers' boxes, and three assorted shipping boxes' worth. Not counting the collection already in the attic. I love fabric. Win.
I made my bed. Win.
I made Joey's bed. Win.
I cleared the mantel to prepare for Halloween decorations. Win.
I got the Halloween decorations out and the mantel decorated. Win.
I bought cat food and fish water. Win.
I dropped off some baby toys and books at school to be used or passed on to Ms. Macy's little darling. Win.
I got to talk to Ms. H and Ms. Macy. Bonus Win.
I got to have lunch with Mom. Superwin.
We tried to go to Joey's book fair, and discovered the school was in lockdown. Fail. And we never did find out why it was in lockdown.
So we went shopping at Tuesday Morning instead. I got a new roaster pan for Thanksgiving. Very win.
I got the fish tank cleaned and the water changed. Win.
We got the boys, then dropped Mom off at her truck, and spent the afternoon playing games and watching Halloween movies and squishing boys. WIN.
That's a rockin' day off!
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
How to Define "Dramatic Change"
So we went to the doctor, we made the decision, and we started the meds. I can tell you it was not an easy decision, and not one made lightly. The doctor said we'd probably see a change right away.
But holy freakin' COW.
I have notes from teachers about how Joey is asking permission to have breaks or leave the room. He is sitting and doing work. He read ten pages of a book for one of his teachers on Monday. He spent 25 minutes on a single activity on Tuesday. HE gives his teachers hugs, says please and thank you, and takes turns. He's being silly and smiley and... who is this child, and where has he been for the last five months?
If nothing else, Joey's teachers are getting a taste of what he can really do if he's given the correct supports. We just need to figure out what those are. Joey gets break from the overwhelming anxiety that was dragging him into the abyss. Maybe he can then help us by being able to better communicate what he needs, and have a chance to settle in to his routines and get used to his teachers.
I much prefer the giggly Joey, I can tell you. I bet he does, too.
But holy freakin' COW.
I have notes from teachers about how Joey is asking permission to have breaks or leave the room. He is sitting and doing work. He read ten pages of a book for one of his teachers on Monday. He spent 25 minutes on a single activity on Tuesday. HE gives his teachers hugs, says please and thank you, and takes turns. He's being silly and smiley and... who is this child, and where has he been for the last five months?
If nothing else, Joey's teachers are getting a taste of what he can really do if he's given the correct supports. We just need to figure out what those are. Joey gets break from the overwhelming anxiety that was dragging him into the abyss. Maybe he can then help us by being able to better communicate what he needs, and have a chance to settle in to his routines and get used to his teachers.
I much prefer the giggly Joey, I can tell you. I bet he does, too.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Happy Digital Day!
Don't you just love the digital age? We do! So Happy Digital Day!
Why do I love the digital age?
I can scan all of Joey's paperwork into my computer. If I lose anything, I just print it again. In meetings with really savvy folks, I don't have to print it at all; I can just search the desktop for what I need. Oh, and can cross-reference with supporting studies and articles, which I can also keep on my laptop for quick access.
I can get research materials delivered right to my laptop. Most journal articles are available in digital formats through my library website, which makes them searchable and instantly retrievable. Many books are also available this way. No need to go plowing through card catalogues for hours trying to find something that might or might not be relevant to what I am researching.
I can talk to my friends and send them awesome cards instantly.
I can send a letter to a friend in India, and get a reply as soon as they log in- sometimes in 15 minutes.
I can carry my entire collection of music and books in my hand, all the time.
If somebody asks me to back up facts about anything with hard study, I don't have to come back in a couple days. Now I can just say, "OK. Give me five minutes... oh, wait, here you go."
I can shop for fabric online, not just be limited to whatever they happen to have at my local store.
With one tweet, everybody can know what's up.
I can have a lot of photos in one frame on my wall- it changes every 2 minutes.
My students have Instant Access to their professor, any time of day or night.
I can watch movies in my house.
I can work from my house- and have a job that is sufficiently challenging and well-paid.
I can reach my son's teachers with important information, day or night.
I can own a computer, and have it fit in my hand.
I know you. And that is totally awesome.
Why do I love the digital age?
I can scan all of Joey's paperwork into my computer. If I lose anything, I just print it again. In meetings with really savvy folks, I don't have to print it at all; I can just search the desktop for what I need. Oh, and can cross-reference with supporting studies and articles, which I can also keep on my laptop for quick access.
I can get research materials delivered right to my laptop. Most journal articles are available in digital formats through my library website, which makes them searchable and instantly retrievable. Many books are also available this way. No need to go plowing through card catalogues for hours trying to find something that might or might not be relevant to what I am researching.
I can talk to my friends and send them awesome cards instantly.
I can send a letter to a friend in India, and get a reply as soon as they log in- sometimes in 15 minutes.
I can carry my entire collection of music and books in my hand, all the time.
If somebody asks me to back up facts about anything with hard study, I don't have to come back in a couple days. Now I can just say, "OK. Give me five minutes... oh, wait, here you go."
I can shop for fabric online, not just be limited to whatever they happen to have at my local store.
With one tweet, everybody can know what's up.
I can have a lot of photos in one frame on my wall- it changes every 2 minutes.
My students have Instant Access to their professor, any time of day or night.
I can watch movies in my house.
I can work from my house- and have a job that is sufficiently challenging and well-paid.
I can reach my son's teachers with important information, day or night.
I can own a computer, and have it fit in my hand.
I know you. And that is totally awesome.
Friday, October 08, 2010
He's good at math.
I had my sixth meeting with school folks today. This one was completely different. For one, the principal called me and asked for the meeting. For two, I didn't go in with a powerpoint or notes about my kid's strengths and weaknesses, drawn up specifically for the meeting. I just took The Notebook.*
Apparently, they figured out that when I said Joey is "good at math", what I meant was, "he's frickin' BRILLIANT at math."
So the principal wandered into Joey's class, mostly to see how he was doing. Often if Joey is having a hard time, and Mr. R walks in, Joey can pull it together and at least get to his desk (kind of like having the CEO come in to your office, even if the politics around there are awful... you do your best to pull it together so you don't get fired). So he sometimes just pops in and checks.
It was math time in the inclusion room, and the class was busily working on a math test. Well, everybody except Joey, who was at his computer. Mr. R immediately asked why Joey wasn't also working on his math test, and Ms. C handed him Joey's test: he completed it in about two minutes, and got a 100% on it.
Yeah, Joey is good at math.
Whatever else I might say or think about Mr. R, he definitely has this going for him: he knew this was Not Right, and that having Joey bored in a classroom would aggravate the problems we're already having. Hence, the meeting today.
The plan is to see where he is in math skills, and get him in a proper math section, even if he has to be in a fourth or fifth grade section. If he goes to a fourth or fifth grade section, he will absolutely have to have his own aide to take him and help him navigate all the non-math stuff that one deals with in a classroom while learning math. As I said to Joey's kindergarden teacher, Ms. S, long ago: It's not the academics that are the problem. It's Everything Else.
It was a really interesting meeting. We were seriously trying to get a general idea of what might happen if he blew away the fifth grade test and needed sixth or seventh grade math instruction. They saw it as a very real possibility. They were serious.
So was I.
*The Notebook contains all the papers, IEPs, letters, emails, etc. for a given school year. We're already into a 3-inch binder for this year.
Apparently, they figured out that when I said Joey is "good at math", what I meant was, "he's frickin' BRILLIANT at math."
So the principal wandered into Joey's class, mostly to see how he was doing. Often if Joey is having a hard time, and Mr. R walks in, Joey can pull it together and at least get to his desk (kind of like having the CEO come in to your office, even if the politics around there are awful... you do your best to pull it together so you don't get fired). So he sometimes just pops in and checks.
It was math time in the inclusion room, and the class was busily working on a math test. Well, everybody except Joey, who was at his computer. Mr. R immediately asked why Joey wasn't also working on his math test, and Ms. C handed him Joey's test: he completed it in about two minutes, and got a 100% on it.
Yeah, Joey is good at math.
Whatever else I might say or think about Mr. R, he definitely has this going for him: he knew this was Not Right, and that having Joey bored in a classroom would aggravate the problems we're already having. Hence, the meeting today.
The plan is to see where he is in math skills, and get him in a proper math section, even if he has to be in a fourth or fifth grade section. If he goes to a fourth or fifth grade section, he will absolutely have to have his own aide to take him and help him navigate all the non-math stuff that one deals with in a classroom while learning math. As I said to Joey's kindergarden teacher, Ms. S, long ago: It's not the academics that are the problem. It's Everything Else.
It was a really interesting meeting. We were seriously trying to get a general idea of what might happen if he blew away the fifth grade test and needed sixth or seventh grade math instruction. They saw it as a very real possibility. They were serious.
So was I.
*The Notebook contains all the papers, IEPs, letters, emails, etc. for a given school year. We're already into a 3-inch binder for this year.
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
Back to School Blues
Welcome to Week Five of the school catastrophe. If there was a mistake to be made, we've made it; we now stand as an example of why appropriate service is absolutely vital to the success of a disabled child in school. You can't just shove a child into a program, it has to be individualized with appropriate support- both in quantity and quality, and year-round. Poor transitioning results in disaster.
Transitioning seems to be a major weak point in our school system and faculty training. The teachers Joey has are, to be clear and honest, working their butts off trying to get his puzzle figured out and come up with appropriate solutions to support Joey. However, it is hard to think of solutions when you don't have sufficient understanding of or training in the problem. When one tends to focus on behavior rather than understanding communication and issues, everything becomes a problem of discipline. This can be reinforced when Joey can pull himself together enough to be functional when someone such as the principal or one of his old teachers comes into the room. That the distraction might give him extra incentive to swallow the frustration he is trying desperately to communicate is something that seems ignored, or at least unrecognized. How does one get teachers to recognize that my child is so overwhelming, he has shut down?
And in the meantime, what to do? I have a child so completely overwhelmed, his teachers feel the need to separate him, and have gotten to no academic work in five weeks. When I say this child has shut down, I mean he becomes so completely non-functional that he is removed to a 1:1 self-contained setting- and still gets nowhere. How do I help my child survive this problem of transition, this overwhelming new-ness, this bump on his road?
When the stress is overwhelming, what do you do? After all, shut-down is not an option for most folks who read this blog. We have to keep going, keep functioning. Our children are depending on us to be functional. We're not allowed to be tired and overwhelmed. How do we dive through anxiety, exhaustion, depression, and frustration, to come out the other side with smiles, clean clothes, and possibly a cooked dinner?
Tomorrow, we are going to the doctor with Joey. I haven't yet gotten him into a psychiatrist, so we are going to try a back door- our family physician- to see if there is anything we can do; in other words, we're exploring medication. This is a touchy subject, and I am sure I will get comments and emails, some in great detail, for both sides (pro and con); but sometimes you realize you are fast running out of options, and running out of time, and damage is being done. Sometimes you have to examine the options, so that educated, reasonable, and informed decisions can be made. If Joey continues to be overwhelmed and uncomfortable at school, we could go from bad to worse in a way that would be even more catastrophic.
We'll keep you posted.
P.S.: What she said. That's kind of my life right now.
Transitioning seems to be a major weak point in our school system and faculty training. The teachers Joey has are, to be clear and honest, working their butts off trying to get his puzzle figured out and come up with appropriate solutions to support Joey. However, it is hard to think of solutions when you don't have sufficient understanding of or training in the problem. When one tends to focus on behavior rather than understanding communication and issues, everything becomes a problem of discipline. This can be reinforced when Joey can pull himself together enough to be functional when someone such as the principal or one of his old teachers comes into the room. That the distraction might give him extra incentive to swallow the frustration he is trying desperately to communicate is something that seems ignored, or at least unrecognized. How does one get teachers to recognize that my child is so overwhelming, he has shut down?
And in the meantime, what to do? I have a child so completely overwhelmed, his teachers feel the need to separate him, and have gotten to no academic work in five weeks. When I say this child has shut down, I mean he becomes so completely non-functional that he is removed to a 1:1 self-contained setting- and still gets nowhere. How do I help my child survive this problem of transition, this overwhelming new-ness, this bump on his road?
When the stress is overwhelming, what do you do? After all, shut-down is not an option for most folks who read this blog. We have to keep going, keep functioning. Our children are depending on us to be functional. We're not allowed to be tired and overwhelmed. How do we dive through anxiety, exhaustion, depression, and frustration, to come out the other side with smiles, clean clothes, and possibly a cooked dinner?
Tomorrow, we are going to the doctor with Joey. I haven't yet gotten him into a psychiatrist, so we are going to try a back door- our family physician- to see if there is anything we can do; in other words, we're exploring medication. This is a touchy subject, and I am sure I will get comments and emails, some in great detail, for both sides (pro and con); but sometimes you realize you are fast running out of options, and running out of time, and damage is being done. Sometimes you have to examine the options, so that educated, reasonable, and informed decisions can be made. If Joey continues to be overwhelmed and uncomfortable at school, we could go from bad to worse in a way that would be even more catastrophic.
We'll keep you posted.
P.S.: What she said. That's kind of my life right now.
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