In Which I Get Depressing

My kiddos have been using some of their free time to watch older television shows on Netflix.  I love this option, even if it's Spongebob, because they're not being mentally flooded with a bunch of lies and deceit (i.e. "Whether it's corn sugar or cane sugar, your body can't tell the difference!" - The Corn Refiners Assoc.) or McDonald's telling them that joy if a gift you can find in a Happy Meal box.  But it turns out they may be getting something unintended from their viewing indulgences.

Reezle commented the other day about how someone learned a lesson of some kind in each episode of Dinosaurs.  "Earl learned that his family was more important than TV," she said.  And while this should be common sense, it is far from the message kids are receiving today - to the point it really stood out for my daughter.  The lesson learned in earlier family television shows were part of the feel-good aspect of those that I grew up with.  Sure, real problems don't work themselves out in 30 minutes and conclude with the entire family collectively vomiting glitter and sunshine (a common criticism of family sitcoms back in the day), but somehow it did provide a sense that hope was not misplaced and eventually things would work out.

These days we have a bit too much "reality" on television.  I realize people tune in largely for the shock value and out of morbid curiosity; after all, it's often like watching a train wreck in slow motion.  But it seems this is not a sideshow or a fleeting glimpse into the lives we all should be glad we're not living; it has become acceptable, even admirable, to live for oneself and flaunt abuses of excess and material possessions as if these things could somehow ever compensate for what these individuals lack in substance and character.  From the Bachelor to Housewives, I wonder endlessly why anyone cares about the smallest details of a person's dating life or how spoiled, entitled women spend their husbands' fortunes to the point of bankruptcy.  I'd like there to be a reality show about the benefits of making good financial decisions, saving money, and preparing to put your kids through college.

Children's shows have eroded into nothing more than screaming, whining stupidity, completely devoid of any value whatsoever.  What happened to shows that had a moral to their stories?  Where are the shows emphasizing the importance of family and friends, regardless of what form those come in?  They're relics of the past, apparently, replaced by a world that is obsessed to the point of isolation with creating virtual existences behind the screens of laptops, cell phones, game consoles, and other electronic devices.  Even when we do interact with others, it's through some device much more often than not.

Our whole existence is fake.  Our lives are on a screen, our images are filtered and Photoshopped, our language is abbreviated, we eat food-like substances instead of actual food, and kids today want to grow up and get their own reality TV show instead of being a doctor, firefighter, or astronaut.  How can we stress the importance of not engaging in stupid behavior when talentless celebrities are made famous for doing exactly what we're warning against?  What happened to wanting a good future, an interesting career, and a family?  When I was growing up, having money meant you wanted financial security.  Now it means you feel entitled to more in that paycheck because your husband's salary, which should be sufficient for a family of 6 to live comfortably in a reasonably-sized home with a couple of reasonable family cars, isn't enough to pay for the Escalade and a $500,000 house you feel you damn well deserve because, hey, everyone else is doing it and being harassed by these creditors isn't any fun!

What has happened to our society?  It's like human beings are no longer evolving; we reached a point where our technology far surpasses our intellect and ability to use it appropriately, and now we're circling the drain.

Stuff People Say to Speech Parents

When my son was just 2 years old, he was referred for a speech evaluation by the doctors who diagnosed him with autism. At age 2, Little G had the speech of a 12-15 month-old. Speech therapy was unavailable for various reasons, and we were expected to play the waiting game. Thing is, I wasn't having any of it. I started researching various options and found Baby Signing Time. I cannot even begin to express what an asset those DVDs were. We bought a few and borrowed many through the inter-library loan program, which brings materials from libraries throughout the county to those who request them. It prepared Little G well for speech therapy when we eventually did obtain services for him; prior to learning sign language, he had resorted to massive meltdowns any time he wanted or needed something because the stress of what it took for him to communicate was utterly overwhelming.

Now, as his 7th birthday approaches, he still struggles with speech but has come a very long way. His official diagnosis is "expressive-receptive speech disorder", which basically means that he has two-way communication deficits; there is difficulty processing what goes into his brain and what his brain can do in terms of speech production. It is a disorder, not a delay, and it will likely be lifelong.

Early on, when I shared with others that my son had a speech disorder and was in therapy for it, I heard a lot of trite statements regurgitated almost verbatim. I never realized that just about everyone, for example, has a family member who didn't say a word until age 4, at which point they spoke a complete and very witty sentence and never stopped talking for more than five minutes in the 40 years since. Also abundant are younger siblings who just never bothered to speak because their older sibling(s) did it for them. Another standard response was, "He'll talk when he's ready/when he wants to."

None of these things are helpful or reassuring, unless your point is to reassure me that you are completely clueless about my son's diagnosis. These all imply also that I need some sort of coddling or reassurance that my son will someday be "normal" by your definition, or that we have something to feel bad about. He's already normal by my definition and always has been, and frankly, I don't really care about your definition. Everyone has their challenges, this is one of his, and it's not a big deal. It is frustrating for him, and sometimes for us, due to the nature of the challenges posed by a two-way communication disorder. But it can be dealt with, just like people deal with any other challenge in life.

You may be wondering how, then, to respond to a friend or family member whose child has just been diagnosed with a speech disorder. First, don't go repeating some tripe you've heard regurgitated ad nauseum by others. You don't know the child's projected trajectory, and you may not have ever personally encountered a child with the same disorder, so you end up coming across as offensive and sounding like an ass. Personally, I am open to questions. When people ask questions, it tells me they are interested in understanding rather than just pretending they understand. If you have experience with a speech success story, feel free to share it. If you have experience with any speech disorder, feel free to share it. We probably just need you to listen, and if you feel the need to offer something but don't know what, simply letting us know that you have confidence in how we're handling it is nice to hear.

Clamshell Packaging

I am not a fan.

The irony here is that I got cut on the knife as a direct result of having to struggle with the clamshell packaging that was designed to, yes, prevent me from cutting myself on the knife. On the bright side, it appears to be just as sharp as advertised.

With the holiday season approaching, I will undoubtedly be facing this nemesis again, so I have to ask: is there any safe way to open this menacing stuff?

You and Me Time

Last night, just before bedtime, Little G wrote me a note on his drawing board.


He was a bit bothered by the fact that his sister gets to stay up a little later than he does, and that it means we don't get a lot of time where it's just him and me. It's interesting how his personality changes at those moments; he becomes so talkative and just loves to share his ideas and thoughts with me.

Obviously, I couldn't resist his request, and we talked a little last night and again tonight before bedtime. He was adorable, mostly sharing his excitement about K12 and his new workbooks. "I want to do homeschool until I go to college," he said. He also told me he can hardly wait until summer is over because he's looking forward to the fall weather and working in his workbooks every day. While I won't go so far as to wish away the summer, I'm excited about this fall, too.

Potentials

My son taught me how to quickly calculate larger numbers in my head.

He was 5 when he taught me this trick.

It was 38 + 42 that brought us to this epiphany. He spat the answer out in seconds. I asked, G, how did you do that so fast? The answer was 80. He said, "Moooom, it's easy. You break apart the numbers. Give the 2 to the 38 and make it 40, so then it's just 40 + 40, and that is super easy...80!."

Uh, woah.

And he was right. When he put it in those terms, it was super easy. That's now his mind works naturally. He's a problem solver by nature. I'm not built that way. I can learn, but it isn't built into my make-up like it is for Little G.

When Little G was just 23 months old, we learned that he is autistic. Just a short time later, we were told that he has hypotonia (low muscle tone) and a speech disorder (not just delay). And at the same time, we were also told that he might have a genetic condition (Beckwith-Wiedemann) that sometimes causes childhood cancer. Yes, I kinda freaked out. After leaving the geneticist's office that day, I smiled at my baby son, walked him in his stroller over to the gift shop where they had toy kitties (his fave), and hugged him to me as I choked back tears that I believe to this day could have flooded the building. But I never let on.

There was no speech therapist available through Early Intervention, so I just learned ASL (American Sign Language) and taught it to the kids and my husband. Because that's what had to be done. He started to communicate. I had great hopes for him, and yet, he still managed to surpass my wildest expectations.

I didn't expect my son to be skipping grade levels in school. I didn't expect him to be speaking so clearly and meaningfully at age 6 like he is, much less using that speech to teach me things about math. The kid is brilliant. And I want to tell all of you, with children who are diagnosed with autism and global developmental delays like my son was, that this IS NOT the end of the road. It is not a prediction. It is not a set-in-stone Way Things Will Be. Trust. Hope. Keep your minds open. And you will be surprised at what your child can do. Do not let anyone place limitations on your child. He or she holds more potential than anyone can see, think, feel, or predict. It will rock your world, if you let it.

Art and Organization

I had these great plans for a homeschool space in the kitchen. First, I decided on a shelving unit I thought would go well with my decor. Once it was all together, I hated it. It was taller than advertised (I ordered online) and looked every bit the small price I paid for it. For someone already having to make peace with non-kitchen items in the kitchen, this was not going to do. Yes, yes, I have issues. No worries, though; it will make the perfect organizer for our outdoor toys in the garage.

My second option was to buy some paint and transform my daughter's old 9-cubby bookshelf into our homeschooling kitchen storage area. My husband picked up the paint and sandpaper, and I set out to get it done before school started.

I'm ashamed to admit I never even got to the sanding part, though I still have good intentions. However, I did find that the shelf in our living room had just the right amount of space for all of our books and the printer, and the extra cabinet in the kitchen holds all of the manipulatives, shapes, DVDs, CDs, Art supplies and Music items perfectly. Little G approves.

In other news, it seems my little artist girl took us very seriously when we said she would be a famous artist selling her works someday; note the little price tags in the bottom right corners of both of the creations below!


For the record, I got a great discount because I'm mommy. I paid 3 warm and fuzzies for the pair of them! They are now proudly displayed on the fridge for all to enjoy.

There is much more art to show, but our weekend became full of other things and I am currently helping R reorganize her drawers and bedroom and sorting through clothes to determine what will still fit the kids for the cooler weather. We seem to be jumping right into cooler weather here! We're also going to work on R's giant art binder, which we've been adding to since she was a toddler. Projects, projects. Home is always full of them.

Math and Kitty

After a wonderful long weekend with the family, class resumed this morning. Weekends are so much more enjoyable now that my children aren't being shipped off to the public school cookie cutter assembly line, because I no longer have to dread the beginning of the week. I am mommy all the time, the way it should be, instead of having a school system tell me when and/or if I can parent my child between the hours of 9-3.

I apologize. To my readers and to myself. I made this quiet little promise that I wasn't going to be negative about public school. But I've going to have to modify that. I will state my personal feelings about our personal experience from time to time, and much of that has some bitterness involved. I do want to be clear that I am not judging any parent's decision to send their child to public schools. Am I judging the school system in general, though? Yes.

On a lighter and much more fun note, here is Little G and his furry study buddy:

In this photo, G illustrates the only problem I have encountered so far; he wants to do math all. the. time. He would complete that book inside of a week if I let him, I'm fairly certain. We've been using workbooks with the kids for years, and he particularly enjoys the math ones. He burned through the preschool one in less than a week, so we bought him a Kindergarten one. He was through that one in a few days as well, so we bought him a first grade workbook. That one actually lasted a couple of weeks. In the weeks before the start of this academic year, Little G had adopted the math portions of his sister's second grade math workbook and was addicted to Sudoku puzzles. While visiting my grandma several months ago, G asked (and answered) loudly, "What is 1 + 2 + 3 + 4? It's 10!!!" The kid has some sort of little calculator center in his head. It's very cool. And I'm just a little envious.

I asked R today what her favorite subject is. She said Language Arts, Science, and Art. I noticed Math did not make the list. She's very good at it, so I guess that is what counts. I want very much for my children to do well in math, because it will open so many more doors for them. I think R prefers subjects she doesn't have to try at because she doesn't tolerate anything less than perfect from herself. I try to point out that mistakes are part of the learning process, and that taking some calculated risks is critical to getting anywhere in life. But she hesitates, because she just loathes anything she perceives as failure on her part. Sigh. I wish I could get her to lighten up.

But, these being our worst school-related issues, I can't complain. No bullies walk these halls, transportation isn't an issue, and every day is Bring Your Pet to School Day! Still loving it? Yes.

Simple Pleasures

It appears that, based on our state's department of education website and a conservative estimate, we cost the school district more than $6k by removing our children.

At the end of last school year, our Superintendent made some very poor (the opinion of many, not just my own) decisions about the direction of our district. Families affected by these changes did not get a say in the matter, and there are a lot of people who are feeling more than a little upset about this. After previous unsatisfactory dealings with the Superintendent over the district's failure to enforce its own policies on bullying when my then Kindergarten student was repeatedly victimized, this was the straw - the ultimate deciding factor which propelled my husband and I right over the fence between public school and homeschool.

It's probably wrong, but my reaction to the financial loss for our district based on my children no longer attending was as follows:

LOL :D

Just Some Sentences (list version)

In the past few days I have:

• Watched all of the K-8 orientation videos.
  


• Communicated with both homeroom teachers by e-mail, and G's by phone.
  


• Completed the Introduction to Online Learning K-2.
  


• Joined a couple of Facebook groups to connect with other parents.
  


• Ordered a bunch of supplemental materials I think will be fun.
  


• Googled and found some exciting and fun supplemental science and art activities.
  


• Started planning activities to compliment our curriculum.
  


• Gotten our materials set up and ready to go.
  


• Created a to-do list of important dates.
  


• Called R's former elementary school and told them we won't be there this year. And felt so good doing it.
  


• Welcomed cooler weather with open arms and cups of cocoa.
  


• Planned a very cool project for art for Little G, which I will share soon.
  


• Spent more time than I care to admit searching for a blog design template that actually works with the new Blogger format. And did not find one.
  


• Felt a range of emotions about homeschooling from trepidation to ecstatic, and everything between.
  


• Been feeling like my husband is really on the same page as I am about homeschooling, for which I am grateful beyond words. His opinions and feelings matter a lot to me on everything, but especially where our children are concerned.
  


• Somehow earned the name Mrs. Mama.
  


• Decided with R and G that we will start a cool tradition of celebrating the first day of homeschool in pajamas with a breakfast of waffles and fruit salad, complete with first day of school photos.
  


• Felt extremely blessed and thankful.

Teacher, Mama

This morning, I shared the names of the virtual academy teachers with R and Little G. Little G looked upset and said, "I thought you were going to be my teacher." I explained that I would, but these other teachers were experienced and knowledgable, and they would help us stay on track. He brightened right back up. My sweet R chimed in right after.

R: That's the best part about homeschool. You are our teacher!

G: You're mama and teacher!

R: Yep! I'm gonna call you Mrs. Mama.

Heh. Aww.