Reezle's Farm

My sweet little Reezle turns 9 in a few days. It's hard for me to wrap my head around it.

Lately, she's been talking endlessly about the farm she wants to have when she's grown.  "I have a dream for when I'm older, and I plan to follow it," she told me earlier tonight.  "I'll have some cows. I'll only take my share of milk, not what the babies need. There will be plenty." She went on to say that she might like to have a couple of pigs, too, but that she doesn't want to raise anything for meat.

 "I want a really big farm and piece of land. I'm going to grow fruit trees, vegetables, and raise animals. I'll feed my cows non-Monsanto feed. Everything will be natural.  We already get so many delicious things just from our small garden, can you imagine a farm!?"

"I want to make my own honey, but I don't want to hurt the bees. If I want to all these things, I'm going to have to figure out a way I can work, too.  I'm going to get a Master's Degree in something.  Maybe a Doctorate, so I could be a doctor farmer.  If my animals get sick, I can figure out what it is and help them."

"I really want 3 or 4 kids, but I worry that I'll end up not being able to care for my farm. Hmm. I'm going to need a house.  How much is all of this going to cost?  The house, the farm, the animals, and all of those seeds.  Workers to build things.  All of these questions are coming into my mind!  What will I need to wear?  I think I'm worrying too much about my farm."

Indeed, my sweet girl.  But I'm so glad she has big plans for herself, and the confidence to make them.  Whatever she does, I'm sure she'll be amazing at it.
 

State Testing: An Education Super Fail

It's 4:16 AM.  Instead of sleeping, I'm here drinking coffee and blogging.  Why?  Because today was absolute utter hell in my home, and my daughter just got to sleep about two hours ago.  I'm still running on pure adrenaline and righteous anger.

Let me back up a bit.

Last year, I began homeschooling my children.  The reasons are many, but it mostly comes down to my belief that education is not one size fits all.  My children are both diagnosed with autism spectrum disorders, and my son additionally has a diagnosis of expressive/receptive speech disorder.  Both of them also have sensory processing disorder.  Mostly, in everyday life, this means little.  They have coping skills, they are really great kids, and they deal with the things that pose challenges like a couple of champs.  We realize, though, that it is having the freedom to be who they are in a supportive and loving environment which allows them to really shine like they do.  A public bricks and mortar school was not that environment.

K12 seemed to be a perfect fit for us.  I loved the curriculum.  Yes, I am using past tense words here, because I am beginning to realize that K12 is susceptible to the very same pitfalls, in terms of actual education, that any other public school suffers.  Perhaps it hit me extra hard this year because the language arts curriculum reading materials were severely slashed in terms of quantity, while at the same time we received a pile of test preparation materials which seemed more than a bit over the top.  The only reason I can think of to remove so much of the reading materials is that kids struggled with the amount of it, and spending additional time working through it would mean less time spent on test preparedness.  It also affects the kids' grades, and thus the school's reputation.  Now, I'm not blaming K12 for this at all; the state regulates their schools just like any other public school.  If anything, I think K12 is fucntioning exceptionally well given the circumstances and all of the red tape.

I wondered to myself, what would a curriculum look like if the schools were not being judged and the children were not being dragged through this nightmare known as state testing?

Today, I sat beside my daughter as she worked through a math Scantron assessment, her eyes welling up with tears, shaking with frustration, rocking back and forth.  She is good at math, but she hates it.  Her mind is definitely geared more toward right-brain activities than the logic-based, left-brain activities involved in math.  She hates math that is typical for her grade level, but this is the type of problem she had to work on:

Forgive me, since it's been quite some time since this was first introduced to me, but isn't this something you'd expect 7th-9th grade students to be working on?  I know a lot of adults who would struggle with this.  I almost wonder if they gave her the wrong assessment or something, because the problems were almost all at this level of difficulty and this was complete and utter torture for a 3rd grade child who detests math to begin with.

I have no idea what is in store on the actual state testing, but if it's anything like this, I have no idea at all what the goal is.  This is ridiculous.

I hope I feel better about things at some point, but right now I've had a rough day and I'm not feeling very warm or fuzzy about any of this.  Kids should not have to go through what my daughter went through today.  And you know, I'm quite sure that these state tests and district scores won't mean a damn thing in 100 years, but the contributions these children make to the world because of actual knowledge and experiential learning (read: not from tests for pretests for pretests to prepare for the pretest for the actual test) will.  Einstein, Tesla, George Washington, Hippocrates, and Galileo did just fine without all of this state testing crap.

Alrighty, then.

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.

Happy Autumn

Soon, the leaves will begin to change and Miss Reezle and I will be searching for more foliage shots like the one above. After their season's grand finale, the trees will grow more bare with each of the typical windy, chilly nights we expect this time of year. As for us, we will be doing more cooking and baking now that days and nights are cooler. Chili, hot cocoa, and holidays are on our minds more often than popsicles and hooping in the sun, now. We love this time of year, the perfect blend of warm days and chilly nights, shorts and hoodies, pleasant weather and howling winds. Pumpkins are showing up everywhere and we have our Halloween decorations up.

 Welcome, Fall.

Data Entry

My complaints tend to be minor and few when it comes to K12 and the curriculum.  However, I'm not a fan of the changes they've made to Language Arts (I think it is a scattered, disorganized, diluted version of the previous one), and I absolutely loathe the answer entry forms that I must do after my kids do math (and some other) assessments.  Assessments are printed from an online document, or are in the workbooks provided in the curriculum materials.  The kiddos complete them, and I enter the results in an online form when they're finished.  Instead of making a simple form where we click Yes or No the entire way through, or enter their answer in a box for each item, it goes more like this:

1. Did the student answer correctly?  Yes No
2. Part 1: one point.  Part 2: one point.  Enter the number of points the student earned.
3. 465 - 200 = ____________
4. 76 - 20 = __________
5. Did the student answer correctly?  Yes  No
6. Part 1: one point.  Part 2: two points.  Enter the number of points the student earned.
6. 98 - 45 = ___________

I mean, really?  I can't recall how many times my children have arrived at the correct answer, and I've entered the wrong one, clicked the wrong circle, put the correct answer in the wrong box, etc.  I basically feel like I am doing the assessment after they do the assessment with all of the trick data entry stuff going on.  Very annoying, time-consuming, distracting, and completely unnecessary.  Not to mention the fact that my son is prone to melting into a pouting puddle when I enter something wrong that he got right.  Ugh.  #parentfail

3rd Grade, K12, Teachers, and Learning Coaches

Miss Reezle had an opportunity to meet with the 3rd grade K12 teacher via internet/phone conference today, and for the first time ever, actually expressed an interest in doing math.  I was impressed.  I'm not sure what changed, and I kind of wonder if it is the attention her little brother gets for being brilliant at it, but I'll take it.  Math has been a struggle when it comes time for lessons, and not because she finds it difficult; Reezle simply doesn't like math.  Well, until today.

The conference went well; Reezle enjoyed it, talking about her hobbies (photography and hooping, a girl after my own heart) and excitedly announcing that she was going to send her teacher an e-mail weekly.  Oy.  After reading a few passages and word lists, the teacher asked Reezle if she read a lot.  When Miss Bookworm announced with great enthusiasm that she does, the teacher told her that she'd just been reading a list of 5th grade words.  Reezle grinned proudly from ear to ear.

People are sometimes confused when I mention my children's teachers.  "Aren't you their teacher?" they ask.  Well, yes and no.  They're independent learners, and I do present material to them and explain it in various ways to meet their unique learning styles.  I answer questions when they have them, supplement material that is relevant to our lives and in areas where they need additional enrichment or a better understanding, and basically do the things a teacher does.  K12 calls me a "learning coach".  I don't like the term; I'm not merely standing on the sidelines cheering my kids along.  All parents are teachers.

Each child is assigned a teacher (or teachers, depending on grade) by K12 for their grade level.  This person is the child's primary school contact, does assessments, holds online connect sessions like reading and math groups and other fun and educational events, and helps keep the kiddos on track.  Contact, for us, is minimal, as my children are typically pursuing their own interests and learning well beyond the assigned school day.  We might put in an hour a day of Spanish for attendance, for example, but we're speaking it and going over the words right up until bedtime.  Our learning never really stops, and the kiddos are always walking around with workbooks, notebooks, and pencils in hand.  They love to learn, and my husband and I love to teach them.  It is not uncommon for the kids to be snuggled up in the recliner with Daddy when he gets home, going over binary code or fractions, playing some strategy game like chess or Solitaire, or playing Sudoku puzzles.

Those are a couple of G's illustrations depicting fractions.  And, of course, they read so much and so fast that I can barely keep up with their books!  Not that I'm complaining...

Special Needs Kids

From a blog called Bringing The Sunshine, I felt compelled to share the following quote:

"When you’re a mom of a kid with special needs, people tend to put you on a pedestal. They admire you from afar and say things like, “God only gives special children to special people,” while simultaneously thanking their lucky stars that they aren’t you, because they “couldn’t handle it.” We aren’t worthy of the pedestal, and we handle it not because we’re strong, but because it’s the hand we’ve been dealt."

I had an almost identical conversation with my grandmother last week, and several times previous since deciding to homeschool my children.  Others have said similar things to me about how "amazing" it is that I "am able" to handle raising, let alone teaching, a child with autism and a speech disorder.  The universe must have chosen me for this, because surely there was no other parent that could handle this exact child.

I don't believe any of that.  We rise to the occasion as parents.  There are a lot of families out there raising children with various special needs, from autism to down syndrome, premature birth to traumatic brain injuries, and even gifted children who present their own surprising challenges.  We don't belong on pedestals, and we don't want to be on them.  We're not any different from you, we just do things based on the unique needs of our unique families, which is really no different than what anyone else does.  We don't need to be told how difficult our lives are, because most of us believe that the rewards are equal to the extra effort; and while understanding is the message most people intend to convey, it often comes across as pity.  With the exception of a rough day here or there, we don't feel sorry for ourselves.  Now, I realize there are exceptions to this rule, but the majority of special needs parents I've spoken to share similar viewpoints on this.

Sure, raising a child with special needs can be challenging, but raising any child is challenging at times!