Ding.
I just turned in the paperwork to put Andy through the Child Find process again. The fourth time. Seriously, this is getting old.
I had him evaluated because his teacher was concerned that he refused to write at school, and he was getting headaches on the bus. What we got back was some very serious issues with motor integration, writing, and coordination. As in, yikers percentile. As in, if we had done something about this before, we wouldn't be here now.
Fourth time. I don't think they believe me.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Thursday, November 10, 2011
School Pictures
Yep, tis the season. First I got home this nice set:
Pretty good, for a school picture.
Then in yesterday's pack was this:
Check out the jutting bottom teeth. Great. I looked down to find you send in a card if you don't like a picture, on retake day. And retake day is....
Today.
Seriously? Un. Happy.
Pretty good, for a school picture.
Then in yesterday's pack was this:
Check out the jutting bottom teeth. Great. I looked down to find you send in a card if you don't like a picture, on retake day. And retake day is....
Today.
Seriously? Un. Happy.
Sunday, November 06, 2011
Friday, November 04, 2011
Halloween at our house
While I prepare for the next holiday season, here are some shots of the one just passed.
Tuesday, November 01, 2011
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Happy Birthday JoeyAndyDad!!!!
Because I have an awesome, wonderful, rockin' husband. And he lurvs him some squishy boys.
Happy Birthday, my love.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Missing: Robbie Wood Jr.
One of our local children is missing. Robbie Wood has autism. He bolted from his family while they were touring a battlefield, and his father was unable to keep up. Even Joey can move like lightning when bolting.
The Wood family is living a nightmare I hope I never know- but I know it is a distinct possibility. Joey bolts. Over the past year, it got so bad, we did consider joining Project Lifesaver and having him fit with a bracelet or anklet that would be able to track him. I think more families with bolters/runners (of any age! Project Lifesaver started for tracking people with Alzheimer's who wandered away) should be informed about this program and how to join, so they can consider their needs and have this important option.
If you have a bolter/runner, please consider the option of Project Lifesaver. Sometimes, you just need to find them, fast.
UPDATE: THEY FOUND HIM!!!! Alive and alert, and med-evaced to Richmond. Woo-hoo!!!!
The Wood family is living a nightmare I hope I never know- but I know it is a distinct possibility. Joey bolts. Over the past year, it got so bad, we did consider joining Project Lifesaver and having him fit with a bracelet or anklet that would be able to track him. I think more families with bolters/runners (of any age! Project Lifesaver started for tracking people with Alzheimer's who wandered away) should be informed about this program and how to join, so they can consider their needs and have this important option.
If you have a bolter/runner, please consider the option of Project Lifesaver. Sometimes, you just need to find them, fast.
UPDATE: THEY FOUND HIM!!!! Alive and alert, and med-evaced to Richmond. Woo-hoo!!!!
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Person First
We had our first Special Education Parent Advisory Committee last night. Just call me Madame Chairperson for another year, thanks. I hope this year's opportunity doesn't slip through my fingers like last year.
Our director of student services handed out a very nice article about person-first language. Language is a tricky thing, since it is so powerful, yet so flexible. Language is a tool for us to communicate ideas, knowingly... or unknowingly. Showing respect should be of the utmost importance, and person-first language should absolutely be the choice, particularly in professional contexts. A professional, not knowing me, my family, or my children, should refer to Joey as a person with autism. The emphasis when speaking about Joey should always be Joey; just as you would probably prefer that anyone speaking about you should emphasize you, not some facet of you, large or small.
You may have noticed that is not how we solely refer to Joey ourselves. In fact, I get emails about it regularly. For us, Joey is autistic. Autism is not something separate from Joey as a person. It simply is a fact, one of many ways to describe Joey. When it is the important fact in the context, then it becomes the adjective of choice as appropriate, just like any other: Joey is tall. Joey is happy. Joey is squishy. Joey is intelligent. Joey is handsome. Joey is autistic.
The great thing about using person-first language is that it emphasizes the person, something that gets lost in a world of labels and misinformation. Or more properly, someone who gets lost, especially when they are surrounded by people who are intensely ignorant of disability, ability, and special needs. It become important to communicate to such people that everyone is a person. It is vital to emphasize to our children that they are who they are, to highlight their ability rather than disability, and that their disability is a neutral factor in their existence; they are not poor, afflicted, suffering victims. They simply are who they are, and we start from here.
Yet there is something in acknowledging that they are who they are, and that some disabilities are intrinsic to who people are. Joey would not be Joey if he was not autistic. He would be a completely different person. I don't even know who that person would be, or would have been. They don't exist. Joey is not, to me, just a "child with autism", because there is no such person as Joey without autism.
But far more importantly, we are paying attention to how Joey refers to himself. He is not yet talking about autism. Just as when he was small and I had no name, I just was, for Joey, autism just is. One day, he will process that the way he thinks and understands and experiences the world is referred to by the rest of us as "autism." Then comes the true test of person-first: referring to Joey as he prefers to refer to himself. Will he be "me, with autism", or will he simply say "I am autistic"?
Our director of student services handed out a very nice article about person-first language. Language is a tricky thing, since it is so powerful, yet so flexible. Language is a tool for us to communicate ideas, knowingly... or unknowingly. Showing respect should be of the utmost importance, and person-first language should absolutely be the choice, particularly in professional contexts. A professional, not knowing me, my family, or my children, should refer to Joey as a person with autism. The emphasis when speaking about Joey should always be Joey; just as you would probably prefer that anyone speaking about you should emphasize you, not some facet of you, large or small.
You may have noticed that is not how we solely refer to Joey ourselves. In fact, I get emails about it regularly. For us, Joey is autistic. Autism is not something separate from Joey as a person. It simply is a fact, one of many ways to describe Joey. When it is the important fact in the context, then it becomes the adjective of choice as appropriate, just like any other: Joey is tall. Joey is happy. Joey is squishy. Joey is intelligent. Joey is handsome. Joey is autistic.
The great thing about using person-first language is that it emphasizes the person, something that gets lost in a world of labels and misinformation. Or more properly, someone who gets lost, especially when they are surrounded by people who are intensely ignorant of disability, ability, and special needs. It become important to communicate to such people that everyone is a person. It is vital to emphasize to our children that they are who they are, to highlight their ability rather than disability, and that their disability is a neutral factor in their existence; they are not poor, afflicted, suffering victims. They simply are who they are, and we start from here.
Yet there is something in acknowledging that they are who they are, and that some disabilities are intrinsic to who people are. Joey would not be Joey if he was not autistic. He would be a completely different person. I don't even know who that person would be, or would have been. They don't exist. Joey is not, to me, just a "child with autism", because there is no such person as Joey without autism.
But far more importantly, we are paying attention to how Joey refers to himself. He is not yet talking about autism. Just as when he was small and I had no name, I just was, for Joey, autism just is. One day, he will process that the way he thinks and understands and experiences the world is referred to by the rest of us as "autism." Then comes the true test of person-first: referring to Joey as he prefers to refer to himself. Will he be "me, with autism", or will he simply say "I am autistic"?
Down Syndrome Awareness
October is awareness month for many causes near and dear to my heart, including Down Syndrome. We now have a variety of friends with Down syndrome, and are so glad to have them. They are wonderful people, and we have learned a lot about the differences between expectations, popular misinformation, and reality.
If you are new to the Special Needs or Down syndrome community, the National Down Syndrome Congress has a wonderful page for you to visit.
One of the best things about this page is how people with Down syndrome are understood as "little packets of human potential." It reminds me of my own parents, who always said of babies, "There's a whole person in that tiny little package!"
And you know what? It is absolutely true.
Go ahead, take that first step into community, acceptance, and celebration of all people. It is worth a few minutes of reading.
If you are new to the Special Needs or Down syndrome community, the National Down Syndrome Congress has a wonderful page for you to visit.
One of the best things about this page is how people with Down syndrome are understood as "little packets of human potential." It reminds me of my own parents, who always said of babies, "There's a whole person in that tiny little package!"
And you know what? It is absolutely true.
Go ahead, take that first step into community, acceptance, and celebration of all people. It is worth a few minutes of reading.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
I So Did Not Want To Leave The Park Today
The sun was shining, the leaves are turning, one simply cannot waste such an afternoon. The boys did their reading, then off to the park! woo-hoo!
Usually, the park is a mixed success. Andy finds himself some friends, runs around, and has a grand time. Joey prefer to walk in circuits, look at the babies, and wander up to people at random and try to talk with them.
As an interesting side note, I can tell a lot about people by watching how they react to Joey. Some folks play right in. Some smile and try to participate. Some tolerate. Some shun. Some even get nasty. The gauge has yet to be wrong, either.
Today was looking pretty typical. Andy found some kids about his age, and starting running about with them, letting the slightly younger ones join in. He's good at that. They spent the afternoon playing Star Wars all over the park. Andy looked a bit like the Pied Piper, as he apparently was the leader of the battles; so everybody was running after him (and he's a head taller than all of the others, even the ones his own age).
Joey found the babies. One of the families questioned why he was in that area of the playground since he was "clearly older than five." (So are you, dude. It isn't like Joey is blocking your kid from playing on anything, or bouncing on the spring animals. He's trying to play with your kid.) Joey picked up on the nasty right away, and gravitated towards a couple other babies with nicer parents.
And then it happened. A group of four kids appeared; they looked about Joey's age. Two girls, two boys. They looked so much alike, they must either be related (siblings? cousins?) or see a lot of each other. A clique, coming to have fun in the fall sun. Joey noticed them right away, and pulled himself away from the little ones to go check them out.
He didn't directly approach them at once. He found a stick, and wandered over to that section of the playground, the one with the bigger slides and the new seesaws. He walked about the area for a while, seeming absorbed in his stick, writing in the air, making a careful circuit. But I realized he was checking those kids out. I wondered how much he really saw in his peripheral vision; I suspect he was using it heavily to observe this interesting little group. How to approach them? What to say? What to do?
They didn't wait. One of the girls called him over. One of the boys recognized him. They asked him to play- to get on the seesaw with them, help them take turns. They even had him help one of the girls, who was skittish about the seesaw; he kept the boy on the other end from taking her too high, and he patted her hand. And when it was time to go home and get dinner? They gave him high-fives, and told them they were glad to see him.
They were glad to see him, happy to include him, the one girl said she was happy to meet him, and hoped to see him again soon. He was beaming. So was I.
I can tell a lot about people, by how they treat Joey. We so did not want to ever, ever leave.
Usually, the park is a mixed success. Andy finds himself some friends, runs around, and has a grand time. Joey prefer to walk in circuits, look at the babies, and wander up to people at random and try to talk with them.
As an interesting side note, I can tell a lot about people by watching how they react to Joey. Some folks play right in. Some smile and try to participate. Some tolerate. Some shun. Some even get nasty. The gauge has yet to be wrong, either.
Today was looking pretty typical. Andy found some kids about his age, and starting running about with them, letting the slightly younger ones join in. He's good at that. They spent the afternoon playing Star Wars all over the park. Andy looked a bit like the Pied Piper, as he apparently was the leader of the battles; so everybody was running after him (and he's a head taller than all of the others, even the ones his own age).
Joey found the babies. One of the families questioned why he was in that area of the playground since he was "clearly older than five." (So are you, dude. It isn't like Joey is blocking your kid from playing on anything, or bouncing on the spring animals. He's trying to play with your kid.) Joey picked up on the nasty right away, and gravitated towards a couple other babies with nicer parents.
And then it happened. A group of four kids appeared; they looked about Joey's age. Two girls, two boys. They looked so much alike, they must either be related (siblings? cousins?) or see a lot of each other. A clique, coming to have fun in the fall sun. Joey noticed them right away, and pulled himself away from the little ones to go check them out.
He didn't directly approach them at once. He found a stick, and wandered over to that section of the playground, the one with the bigger slides and the new seesaws. He walked about the area for a while, seeming absorbed in his stick, writing in the air, making a careful circuit. But I realized he was checking those kids out. I wondered how much he really saw in his peripheral vision; I suspect he was using it heavily to observe this interesting little group. How to approach them? What to say? What to do?
They didn't wait. One of the girls called him over. One of the boys recognized him. They asked him to play- to get on the seesaw with them, help them take turns. They even had him help one of the girls, who was skittish about the seesaw; he kept the boy on the other end from taking her too high, and he patted her hand. And when it was time to go home and get dinner? They gave him high-fives, and told them they were glad to see him.
They were glad to see him, happy to include him, the one girl said she was happy to meet him, and hoped to see him again soon. He was beaming. So was I.
I can tell a lot about people, by how they treat Joey. We so did not want to ever, ever leave.
If It Is Demeaning, It Isn't Humor.
Yes, bouncing about the internet are those lovely little sayings, and now its so popular to stick bumper stickers in your facebook news. The one I shall jump upon my soapbox this evening to highlight is: "My sense of humor may hurt your feelings. i suggest you get over it."
Why do people think that demeaning others is "funny"? Why do people think it is OK to get pleasure by causing another pain? How would they like it if it was their feelings being hurt, their lives being demeaned? What happened to that basic of respect, treating others as you would want to be treated?
Do people really think I ought to keep this in mind the next time I hear or see a "retard joke" in front of Joey? Sadly, they do. Really. I wonder what those people would think if I took a baseball bat and smacked them upside the head with it. Hey, lots of people think slapstick is funny, right? Do people not understand that emotional pain can be far more damaging than physical pain?
Humor is a very culturally determined thing. As culture emerges from the dark and learns how important respecting others really is- and how well it really works- we change our idea of what is funny. Little Black Sambo is not funny, it is demeaning; and when society realized it was demeaning, Little Black Sambo jokes disappeared.
But there are still groups and people that society do not see as fully human, and so demeaning them is seen as acceptable. When those groups begin to protest, telling them to just "get over it" is not acceptable, either. There are plenty of wonderful, joyous, and really hilarious moments in the world, without having to cause another any pain at all. Causing pain isn't funny. Hurting isn't humor.
No, I will not get over it. I hope that you will, instead, rise above it.
Why do people think that demeaning others is "funny"? Why do people think it is OK to get pleasure by causing another pain? How would they like it if it was their feelings being hurt, their lives being demeaned? What happened to that basic of respect, treating others as you would want to be treated?
Do people really think I ought to keep this in mind the next time I hear or see a "retard joke" in front of Joey? Sadly, they do. Really. I wonder what those people would think if I took a baseball bat and smacked them upside the head with it. Hey, lots of people think slapstick is funny, right? Do people not understand that emotional pain can be far more damaging than physical pain?
Humor is a very culturally determined thing. As culture emerges from the dark and learns how important respecting others really is- and how well it really works- we change our idea of what is funny. Little Black Sambo is not funny, it is demeaning; and when society realized it was demeaning, Little Black Sambo jokes disappeared.
But there are still groups and people that society do not see as fully human, and so demeaning them is seen as acceptable. When those groups begin to protest, telling them to just "get over it" is not acceptable, either. There are plenty of wonderful, joyous, and really hilarious moments in the world, without having to cause another any pain at all. Causing pain isn't funny. Hurting isn't humor.
No, I will not get over it. I hope that you will, instead, rise above it.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Presents
Christmas is a-coming and the goose is getting fat. And I like to have my shopping done by now. Once again, I have failed; such is life with children.
Yes, the children. I have started putting off the shopping completion because I have children; notoriously fickle, it is better to wait a little closer to the holidays to be sure what will interest and delight them. A child into blue and Star Wars today may want green and Ninjago by Christmas. And this is October.
Fortunately, I can go ahead and get some things, hitting the sales of the pre-Christmas clear-out, because my kids are not as fickle as some. I usually set aside some budget, though, for December. You never know.
Andy is easy. Up until now, if it had a dinosaur on it, you were all good. This year, ninjas and Star Wars reigns, and he is becoming interested in superheroes. Get him some toys in theme, grab some Mario Brothers knick-knacks for the stocking, all set and ready to go. Easy-peasy-lemon-squeasy.
Joey, not so much. The themes, I can do. Toy Story, Mario Brothers, baseball, a touch of Obi-Wan Kenobi. But what to buy? Joey doesn't play much with toys. He never did. Now he's nine, he plays with toys even less. I think if I filled his stocking with wooden spoons, his cup would runneth over. Never fear, I will have some for that purpose. After all, Christmas isn't about giving people things, it is about thinking about them and trying to bring them joy, about sharing and letting them know how much you love them. I could toss a lot of Star Wars toys at Joey, and he would be fine with that; but they would then just clutter his room or be co-opted by Andy. He already has an entire bin of wooden spoons and sticks, and five calculators. What to get the child for Christmas?
Of course, just when I find myself in quandary, we get snippets, little glimpses into that head. I took Joey with me to the auction on Sunday. I was surprised he wanted to go; the first time we went, he clearly was uncomfortable with the pace and the crowds, and last month he made it clear he did not want to go. This time, he asked to go, so we went. He was happy to play with his brother. Then things got started, and he wasn't as happy. He showed interest in a box with some toy trucks in it, so as they neared it, I grabbed him and tried to teach him how to bid. He seemed very pleased, especially when he bought the trucks (whole box, $4). Then he wandered off, and didn't so much as glance at them again.
I brought them in from the car Sunday night, and put them in the hall, and forgot them (if you've seen my hall, you know how that can happen). No notice was taken of them. It dawned on me that he went because Mommy was going and he bid because Mommy told him to. Oh, well.
But then, Tuesday morning came. The trucks were noticed.
"The trucks from the auction, Mommy!" Joey chimed, touching one.
"Yes, dear, they're yours. You bought them, remember?" He picked one up, held it a minute, put it down, moved on. Oh, well.
Then Tuesday afternoon came.
"The trucks from the auction!" He seemed joyful, pleased. He took the box into the livingroom, started playing with them- lining them up, arranging them in the box, using them to drive his little Obi-Wan Kenobi figure over the carpet. He showed them to Andy, who also commenced playing with them. Happy, happy boys. The babble began. "The auction trucks! They are here! Someone donated them to the auction. Look, the trucks from the auction!"
Maybe I'll go ahead and get some of those toys after all.
Yes, the children. I have started putting off the shopping completion because I have children; notoriously fickle, it is better to wait a little closer to the holidays to be sure what will interest and delight them. A child into blue and Star Wars today may want green and Ninjago by Christmas. And this is October.
Fortunately, I can go ahead and get some things, hitting the sales of the pre-Christmas clear-out, because my kids are not as fickle as some. I usually set aside some budget, though, for December. You never know.
Andy is easy. Up until now, if it had a dinosaur on it, you were all good. This year, ninjas and Star Wars reigns, and he is becoming interested in superheroes. Get him some toys in theme, grab some Mario Brothers knick-knacks for the stocking, all set and ready to go. Easy-peasy-lemon-squeasy.
Joey, not so much. The themes, I can do. Toy Story, Mario Brothers, baseball, a touch of Obi-Wan Kenobi. But what to buy? Joey doesn't play much with toys. He never did. Now he's nine, he plays with toys even less. I think if I filled his stocking with wooden spoons, his cup would runneth over. Never fear, I will have some for that purpose. After all, Christmas isn't about giving people things, it is about thinking about them and trying to bring them joy, about sharing and letting them know how much you love them. I could toss a lot of Star Wars toys at Joey, and he would be fine with that; but they would then just clutter his room or be co-opted by Andy. He already has an entire bin of wooden spoons and sticks, and five calculators. What to get the child for Christmas?
Of course, just when I find myself in quandary, we get snippets, little glimpses into that head. I took Joey with me to the auction on Sunday. I was surprised he wanted to go; the first time we went, he clearly was uncomfortable with the pace and the crowds, and last month he made it clear he did not want to go. This time, he asked to go, so we went. He was happy to play with his brother. Then things got started, and he wasn't as happy. He showed interest in a box with some toy trucks in it, so as they neared it, I grabbed him and tried to teach him how to bid. He seemed very pleased, especially when he bought the trucks (whole box, $4). Then he wandered off, and didn't so much as glance at them again.
I brought them in from the car Sunday night, and put them in the hall, and forgot them (if you've seen my hall, you know how that can happen). No notice was taken of them. It dawned on me that he went because Mommy was going and he bid because Mommy told him to. Oh, well.
But then, Tuesday morning came. The trucks were noticed.
"The trucks from the auction, Mommy!" Joey chimed, touching one.
"Yes, dear, they're yours. You bought them, remember?" He picked one up, held it a minute, put it down, moved on. Oh, well.
Then Tuesday afternoon came.
"The trucks from the auction!" He seemed joyful, pleased. He took the box into the livingroom, started playing with them- lining them up, arranging them in the box, using them to drive his little Obi-Wan Kenobi figure over the carpet. He showed them to Andy, who also commenced playing with them. Happy, happy boys. The babble began. "The auction trucks! They are here! Someone donated them to the auction. Look, the trucks from the auction!"
Maybe I'll go ahead and get some of those toys after all.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Sign of the times
Graciously emailed to me by Uncle Evan:
Andy: I lost a tooth!
Joey: He lost a tooth! Call the Tooth Fairy!
Evan: I'm not gonna call the Tooth Fairy. The Tooth Fairy is very busy. Maybe I'll email the Tooth Fairy...
Joey: Evan, EMAIL THE TOOTH FAIRY!
Andy: I lost a tooth!
Joey: He lost a tooth! Call the Tooth Fairy!
Evan: I'm not gonna call the Tooth Fairy. The Tooth Fairy is very busy. Maybe I'll email the Tooth Fairy...
Joey: Evan, EMAIL THE TOOTH FAIRY!
Wednesday, October 05, 2011
Updates from us
Why haven't I been blogging? Because I have been busier than a swarm of ants on a tossed-away caramel apple. Hopefully, I will get some writing time in later today. But I am making no guarantees. Meanwhile, here's a quick peek:
Andy's teacher says he is definitely ADHD, "but it isn't affecting his ability to function." Question: so why are we having this meeting again? (But I will say she is being very proactive and understanding, so I think this teacher generally rocks.)
Joey starts his swimming program today through school. Pros: Joey LOVES swimming and water, he gets extra movement every Wednesday for the next six weeks, and he gets the extra sensory time. Cons: He qualifies because he is "moderately to severely disabled." You might notice that "he misses school" is neither here nor there. I doubt he'll fall very far behind in math, which is the academic subject he will miss.
We have confirmed SOL testing is a waste of time and stress.
Andy's teacher has added yet another dimension to homework. We are now up to an hour and fifteen minutes. Every night.
We have our first pumpkins! (you know you want to see that post- PICTURES!!!)
We think our last Challenger game was rained out. We're hoping for a reschedule, but since it would be the third, we're not holding our breath.
We completely re-arranged our house. I got a great, wonderful, fantastic deal on a really high-quality entertainment center set, and the dust is finally starting to settle. We have a new den, and I have two new cabinets for showing off all my collected knick knacks. I have one case just for my cut crystal bowls, vases, pitchers, and wine glasses. Happy happy Joeymom. Now I just need to clear away all the boxes, bins, and detritus from moving furniture and display cases all around.
My cats remain warm and furry. This is good, as Fall has arrived and it is now chilly.
And not for a full post, but as a note to Stimey: I got attacked by not one, but five squirrels, in a mob, driving home from my mom's house yesterday. I swear they all leapt from the trees directly at the car, in a big group, all at once. I didn't actually hit any squirrels, but it was a good thing it was a little back road with no curbs to burst a tire on. And that no one was there to hear me scream like a little girl and swear like a pirate. But, my friend, they are gathering and plotting to take over the world. I am a living witness. Warn Alex.
Andy's teacher says he is definitely ADHD, "but it isn't affecting his ability to function." Question: so why are we having this meeting again? (But I will say she is being very proactive and understanding, so I think this teacher generally rocks.)
Joey starts his swimming program today through school. Pros: Joey LOVES swimming and water, he gets extra movement every Wednesday for the next six weeks, and he gets the extra sensory time. Cons: He qualifies because he is "moderately to severely disabled." You might notice that "he misses school" is neither here nor there. I doubt he'll fall very far behind in math, which is the academic subject he will miss.
We have confirmed SOL testing is a waste of time and stress.
Andy's teacher has added yet another dimension to homework. We are now up to an hour and fifteen minutes. Every night.
We have our first pumpkins! (you know you want to see that post- PICTURES!!!)
We think our last Challenger game was rained out. We're hoping for a reschedule, but since it would be the third, we're not holding our breath.
We completely re-arranged our house. I got a great, wonderful, fantastic deal on a really high-quality entertainment center set, and the dust is finally starting to settle. We have a new den, and I have two new cabinets for showing off all my collected knick knacks. I have one case just for my cut crystal bowls, vases, pitchers, and wine glasses. Happy happy Joeymom. Now I just need to clear away all the boxes, bins, and detritus from moving furniture and display cases all around.
My cats remain warm and furry. This is good, as Fall has arrived and it is now chilly.
And not for a full post, but as a note to Stimey: I got attacked by not one, but five squirrels, in a mob, driving home from my mom's house yesterday. I swear they all leapt from the trees directly at the car, in a big group, all at once. I didn't actually hit any squirrels, but it was a good thing it was a little back road with no curbs to burst a tire on. And that no one was there to hear me scream like a little girl and swear like a pirate. But, my friend, they are gathering and plotting to take over the world. I am a living witness. Warn Alex.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
And now for a completely different child...
There are few things that strike fear into the heart of a parent than a note home from a teacher. Especially one that politely requests a conference to address the behavior of your child.
I get used to notes about Joey. In fact, if I don't have one, I worry. What did he do that day? Was there a sub? Was he OK? WHERE THE HECK IS MY JOEY NOTE???
But Andy? Um, wrong child. But, you see, I think we are heading into the world of I Told You So. I've had Andy in ChildFind three times. His speech still lags. He's ADHD. Without that special ed support, we risk him getting a teacher with no clue how to keep his little derriere in his seat and his eyes on his desk long enough to get his work done. Because, see, there are secrets for doing it. On the other hand, we may just be reaching that point when the ADHD is just going to get in the way, and start having that negative impact on his academics and education that I've been told is going to happen, that I warned everyone (including this teacher) might happen, and usually does happen. We just thought it would happen sooner. Perhaps his other teachers had more experience in heading it off.
The day appears to be here.
We've been having a slow spiral into I Don't Want To Go To School and I Don't Want To Do Homework. I have put off the latter by reverting to positive reinforcement: do your homework, and you get to watch the show you wanted on TV, or get popcorn, or get a prize. Hey, it works. And besides, this lady is sending home huge amounts of homework. Now at least I know we'll only be at it about 45 minutes.
The former? Well, I need to get in there and see what is going awry. If he's in a noisy, distracting classroom, then he's likely to be uncomfortable and distracted. This will lead to behavior and focus issues. Which will lead to visits to the office. We don't want to go there.
We'll see how this teacher is going to handle the challenge.
I get used to notes about Joey. In fact, if I don't have one, I worry. What did he do that day? Was there a sub? Was he OK? WHERE THE HECK IS MY JOEY NOTE???
But Andy? Um, wrong child. But, you see, I think we are heading into the world of I Told You So. I've had Andy in ChildFind three times. His speech still lags. He's ADHD. Without that special ed support, we risk him getting a teacher with no clue how to keep his little derriere in his seat and his eyes on his desk long enough to get his work done. Because, see, there are secrets for doing it. On the other hand, we may just be reaching that point when the ADHD is just going to get in the way, and start having that negative impact on his academics and education that I've been told is going to happen, that I warned everyone (including this teacher) might happen, and usually does happen. We just thought it would happen sooner. Perhaps his other teachers had more experience in heading it off.
The day appears to be here.
We've been having a slow spiral into I Don't Want To Go To School and I Don't Want To Do Homework. I have put off the latter by reverting to positive reinforcement: do your homework, and you get to watch the show you wanted on TV, or get popcorn, or get a prize. Hey, it works. And besides, this lady is sending home huge amounts of homework. Now at least I know we'll only be at it about 45 minutes.
The former? Well, I need to get in there and see what is going awry. If he's in a noisy, distracting classroom, then he's likely to be uncomfortable and distracted. This will lead to behavior and focus issues. Which will lead to visits to the office. We don't want to go there.
We'll see how this teacher is going to handle the challenge.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Standards of Learning, Standards of Testing, And NonStandard Children
I have Joey's SOL scores. As far as i am concerned, a standardized test is just another instrument of evaluation, intended to give us information about my child. Whenever Joey is evaluated, there are questions I need answered about the tools used to evaluated him, so I can see what the test is telling me about him. What useful information have I gained from this instrument? What is it telling me about Joey and his development? What can be done to help him?
What I have learned from Joey's SOL scores is... he is autistic.
Well, I already knew that, thanks. there is nothing more to be learned here, as far as i can see. What good is that?
For one, the scores don't match abilities we know he has. Nor do they match the reports I am currently getting from school about his abilities and knowledge. What good is an evaluation that tells me absolutely nothing? In fact, it lies to me about what my child can do? Did I learn he has difficulty answering questions? I knew that already.
People want data, but I am not sure people understand what data is or what to do with it. Standardized tests provide data, but is it useful data? Useful for whom? Is it properly analyzed? Or will these scores simply be placed in a column as a negative against my son's school, and against my son? What does this data do to help anyone? Or know anything about... anything?
I am going to be scanning and sending this report to Joey's case manager, so tends to have a much better idea about what this data means, and how it can be used to help my Joey. I'll keep you posted as I keep thinking about standardization, and testing, and data. And Joey.
What I have learned from Joey's SOL scores is... he is autistic.
Well, I already knew that, thanks. there is nothing more to be learned here, as far as i can see. What good is that?
For one, the scores don't match abilities we know he has. Nor do they match the reports I am currently getting from school about his abilities and knowledge. What good is an evaluation that tells me absolutely nothing? In fact, it lies to me about what my child can do? Did I learn he has difficulty answering questions? I knew that already.
People want data, but I am not sure people understand what data is or what to do with it. Standardized tests provide data, but is it useful data? Useful for whom? Is it properly analyzed? Or will these scores simply be placed in a column as a negative against my son's school, and against my son? What does this data do to help anyone? Or know anything about... anything?
I am going to be scanning and sending this report to Joey's case manager, so tends to have a much better idea about what this data means, and how it can be used to help my Joey. I'll keep you posted as I keep thinking about standardization, and testing, and data. And Joey.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Bus Stop Conversations: Babysitters
Standing at our bus stop is always an interesting experience. I like our neighbors. We have 6 families who use our stop, with 3 who appear regularly. Most of the time we chat lightly about the kids, the teachers, stuff that I can click into mostly by talking about Andy. They ask about Joey, and are always very nice when he is at the stop (when his bus is late in the morning or early in the afternoon). Generally, it's all good.
And then sometimes, topics pop up that remind me that life is different on this side of the street. Usually, it is one of the other 3 families who come and pop into those topics to which I have little to add or are outside our experience entirely. And usually I just either stand there nodding as if I have a clue what their world is like, or strike up a conversation with Awesome Neighbor's grandparents, and drop away from the crowd. And sometimes, I'm cornered, and it can be a little awkward.
One of those topics that rears it's ugly head at the bus stop (and at other unfortunate moments) is babysitters. One of our bus stop families actually has a regular babysitter who gets the kids off the bus in the afternoon. Sometimes there is talk of regularly weekly or monthly outings, a phenomenon called "Date Night" in Momspeak. A couple of the families have whole weekends when they go away "without the kids." And these conversations and events usually lead to a conversation about babysitters: finding good ones, who to use, who not to use, who the regulars are, and even a discussion of "nannies" (by which they mean a sitter like our one family uses, who picks up and cares for the kids in the afternoons). Apparently, most people can pick up the phone, call in a local teenager or college student, and go out for drinks or dinner or even a whole weekend.
I bet for a lot of my readers, that is foreign concept, over which you are now boggling.
Several of the families noticed that we have been having a bit more trouble with Joey than usual over the past year. All of them know he is autistic and have now experienced a little of what that means for us. So whenever these conversations come up, almost invariably, someone suggests that I should "call a sitter" and "get some Mom time."
Seriously? And who do I call? That local teenager? Don't make me laugh.
When Joey was little, we had therapists who came to work with him for an hour or two at a time, mostly doing ABA therapies. These young people sometimes had some background of working with special needs kids. Sometimes we got a fully trained therapist, or a talented one (Hi, Miss Katie!), but mostly we got college kids who were vaguely interested in education careers and had some basic training in ABA and autism- very basic- and they mostly could at least deal with Joey for their two hours. And I would clean things, or play with Andy, or usually both. A few times I actually left the house to run an emergency errand. However, that was before Bolting Joey. And Biting My Arm Joey. And Everybody Hates Me Just Kill Me Now Joey.
We did try the teenager route a couple of times. Kids around here have to get in so much community service for their high school diploma, and babysitting a disabled kid fits that bill. However, you first have to ask the parents. "my kid is autistic" shut that down very quickly. And again, that was before Bolting Joey.
Even when we get people who know Joey to watch him, it can be an issue- problems can rear their ugly heads. It only take a minute for Joey to start the spiral into a meltdown. Or be gone.
Call a local teen with no training and no experience? Fat chance. Call a trained person? Any guesses how much that costs?
No, I don't think I will be calling in a babysitter on a whim any time soon, to run out for dinner and drinks with my husband tonight, but thanks for the suggestion. And the lecture about how I just need to call our babysitter. But give me a little notice, and I'll see what I can do. Not promising anything.
And then sometimes, topics pop up that remind me that life is different on this side of the street. Usually, it is one of the other 3 families who come and pop into those topics to which I have little to add or are outside our experience entirely. And usually I just either stand there nodding as if I have a clue what their world is like, or strike up a conversation with Awesome Neighbor's grandparents, and drop away from the crowd. And sometimes, I'm cornered, and it can be a little awkward.
One of those topics that rears it's ugly head at the bus stop (and at other unfortunate moments) is babysitters. One of our bus stop families actually has a regular babysitter who gets the kids off the bus in the afternoon. Sometimes there is talk of regularly weekly or monthly outings, a phenomenon called "Date Night" in Momspeak. A couple of the families have whole weekends when they go away "without the kids." And these conversations and events usually lead to a conversation about babysitters: finding good ones, who to use, who not to use, who the regulars are, and even a discussion of "nannies" (by which they mean a sitter like our one family uses, who picks up and cares for the kids in the afternoons). Apparently, most people can pick up the phone, call in a local teenager or college student, and go out for drinks or dinner or even a whole weekend.
I bet for a lot of my readers, that is foreign concept, over which you are now boggling.
Several of the families noticed that we have been having a bit more trouble with Joey than usual over the past year. All of them know he is autistic and have now experienced a little of what that means for us. So whenever these conversations come up, almost invariably, someone suggests that I should "call a sitter" and "get some Mom time."
Seriously? And who do I call? That local teenager? Don't make me laugh.
When Joey was little, we had therapists who came to work with him for an hour or two at a time, mostly doing ABA therapies. These young people sometimes had some background of working with special needs kids. Sometimes we got a fully trained therapist, or a talented one (Hi, Miss Katie!), but mostly we got college kids who were vaguely interested in education careers and had some basic training in ABA and autism- very basic- and they mostly could at least deal with Joey for their two hours. And I would clean things, or play with Andy, or usually both. A few times I actually left the house to run an emergency errand. However, that was before Bolting Joey. And Biting My Arm Joey. And Everybody Hates Me Just Kill Me Now Joey.
We did try the teenager route a couple of times. Kids around here have to get in so much community service for their high school diploma, and babysitting a disabled kid fits that bill. However, you first have to ask the parents. "my kid is autistic" shut that down very quickly. And again, that was before Bolting Joey.
Even when we get people who know Joey to watch him, it can be an issue- problems can rear their ugly heads. It only take a minute for Joey to start the spiral into a meltdown. Or be gone.
Call a local teen with no training and no experience? Fat chance. Call a trained person? Any guesses how much that costs?
No, I don't think I will be calling in a babysitter on a whim any time soon, to run out for dinner and drinks with my husband tonight, but thanks for the suggestion. And the lecture about how I just need to call our babysitter. But give me a little notice, and I'll see what I can do. Not promising anything.
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