Just because I can...
Dear Tea Kettle,
I hope you can assist me in understanding better how you think and operate. At this time, I am greatly concerned about your emotional well being.
When I fill you with water, you do not protest. Thank you for that. When I put you on the stove, you are compliant and you stay on your spot until I remove you. I am grateful for this as well. In a world filled with ADD diagnoses, it is quite comforting to know you will be still without reprimand.
However, when I am anxious for my tea, you refuse to boil quickly. When I walk away and sit down because I'm tired of waiting on you, the instant my bottom hits the sofa, you begin screaming like a wild banshee.
Is it absolutely necessary for you to holler so loudly? And this, when the children are in bed sleeping? Don't you know you will wake them up? I'm just trying to make a cup of sleepytime chamomile so I can rest easy too and there you go, screaming and hollering and making such a huge fuss. It startles me and hurts my ears! And the dogs protest.
Your behavior is most irrational. Of course the stove is hot and the water that is boiling within your stainless steel belly is 100'C. You knew that such would be your plight when you were forged into your kettle shape at the factory. Why scream about it every time as if you had no idea that it would get so hot? Seriously. It's too much. I need you to calm down.
Be glad I'm not using the microwave to warm my water. You and I both know that the microwave doesn't heat water as evenly as you do. In many homes, the microwave has made the whistling tea kettle obsolete so you should be thanking ME that you still have a job!
Please, kettle, boil when I watch you and don't whistle so loudly while the children sleep. That is all I ask.
Sincerely,
Matron of the Abode in which you Reside
P.S. I can always boil water in a saucepan...
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Monday, May 14, 2012
Little Things
Yesterday was such a lovely Mother's Day. Sissy greeted me with her tiara on the pillow I made her for her birthday. "Happy Mother's Day Mom. You can wear my crown today."
Of course, it was promptly put upon my head and I did indeed wear it all day, even while in the grocery store.
Sissy and WG asked to wish their birthmother a happy mother's day but at the last minute, WG chickened out. Over speaker phone, Sissy said, "Happy mother's day Mom" to her birth mom. So very, very cool.
A nice rainy day spent coloring mandalas with their Aunt who was celebrating her first mother's day as a new step-mom. Noni played cards on her laptop, Sissy and AB watched TV (and napped a little) while WG and her new cousin ran themselves ragged. Papa snoozed it out until supper. I couldn't have asked for a better day.
Recently, my biggest personal struggle has been learning to know what I need and want, putting myself before others for the first time in my life. It feel so backward and incongruent with the title of Mother to think and do for oneself. Inherently I know that if I'm happy, then my home is happy but what makes me happy? Every time I asked myself that question, I kept coming up with one thing - I wanted something little and snuggly to hold.
Our dog Hope will be gone two years this September. I've missed her very much but have always had it in my head to get another animal. Knowing I needed something little to hold and wanting to add a new family member, I'd been searching craigslist, the local shelters and foster homes for about eight months. I knew that it would be obvious when I found the right match.
Tiny little Roscoe, a brindle teacup chihuahua now sits on the recliner armrest next to me, curled up in the tiniest ball of fur, gently snoring. He's exactly what I needed and what I wanted. Indeed he has filled up a gap for all us: the kids, Gracie who grieved Hope the most and myself.
I can't remember the last time my heart felt so full and warm. I could get used to this! It's nice to know that little things really DO matter.
Of course, it was promptly put upon my head and I did indeed wear it all day, even while in the grocery store.
Sissy and WG asked to wish their birthmother a happy mother's day but at the last minute, WG chickened out. Over speaker phone, Sissy said, "Happy mother's day Mom" to her birth mom. So very, very cool.
A nice rainy day spent coloring mandalas with their Aunt who was celebrating her first mother's day as a new step-mom. Noni played cards on her laptop, Sissy and AB watched TV (and napped a little) while WG and her new cousin ran themselves ragged. Papa snoozed it out until supper. I couldn't have asked for a better day.
Recently, my biggest personal struggle has been learning to know what I need and want, putting myself before others for the first time in my life. It feel so backward and incongruent with the title of Mother to think and do for oneself. Inherently I know that if I'm happy, then my home is happy but what makes me happy? Every time I asked myself that question, I kept coming up with one thing - I wanted something little and snuggly to hold.
Our dog Hope will be gone two years this September. I've missed her very much but have always had it in my head to get another animal. Knowing I needed something little to hold and wanting to add a new family member, I'd been searching craigslist, the local shelters and foster homes for about eight months. I knew that it would be obvious when I found the right match.
Tiny little Roscoe, a brindle teacup chihuahua now sits on the recliner armrest next to me, curled up in the tiniest ball of fur, gently snoring. He's exactly what I needed and what I wanted. Indeed he has filled up a gap for all us: the kids, Gracie who grieved Hope the most and myself.
I can't remember the last time my heart felt so full and warm. I could get used to this! It's nice to know that little things really DO matter.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Have Fun
Tomorrow is the last day of instruction for my school. Next week is exams followed by graduation. My three finish school next Friday, Sissy and AB "graduating" from grade school. Then before me lies another long, hot summer with bored, arguing
children that have gotten older, stronger, mouthier and less tolerant
of, well, everything in the universe. Somehow, in the midst of that I'll have to figure out tutoring and possibly teaching summer school.
The days grow long and I feel myself being pulled to the memories of my own childhood summers, playing badminton and volleyball using the clothes line as the net. Catching fireflies. Star gazing. Watching summer thunderstorms roll in from the corner of the corn field to our back yard while we sat on the covered porch savoring the smell of the rain and the cool wind on our faces. Fourth of July in the park, walking to the library for more Agatha Christie novels. Sleep overs. Hanging laundry on the clothesline and forgetting to take it off before dusk and the June bugs clung to the cotton fibers of your shorts as though their very lives depended upon it. Mowing the tall green grass that was thicker than a carpet. Watching bunnies hop out from under the shed in the early morning. Listening to the corn grow.
I wish my childhood summer memories could be my children's memories. Instead, it will be another summer of therapists marching in and out, approaching every conflict with a therapeutic flair, listening to Sissy whine or scream or tantrum and begging inside my head that she be a neurotypical 12 year old for just one day. Dancing around AB as his moods fluctuate and threaten like the dark cloud that hangs over only Eeyore's head. Trying desperately to bring normalcy to at least WG's childhood knowing that it's futile.
Lightening bugs. Anoles. June bugs. Stars. Blue moons. Fields. Thunderstorms. Windchimes. Books. Fireworks. Swimming. Sunburns. Hotdogs. Watermelon. Corn. Sandals. Beach. Shells. Friends. Fun.
That's what I want this summer to encapsulate. I hope I can make it happen. It won't be long before their own summer plans usurp mine.
I will myself to ignore Sissy's "Mom!!! Since we're here can I get a magazine?!" shrieks from the backseat of the van when I pull up to the gas pump.
I choose to not engage when she screams in my face, "My new earbuds hurt my ears! You know my ears are sensitive!!!" when she begged for new earbuds and has no problem with the pair except that she simply wants to use the headphones designated for the television and any excuse to prove that she should have that privilege is a better expressed excuse when screamed at 180db to my bewildered expression.
I will steel my nerves when she runs through the library holding herself and exclaiming loudly that she has to pee.
I will think of lightening bugs, anoles, stars, blue moons, fields, thunderstorms, windchimes, books, fireworks, swimming, sunburns, hotdogs, watermelon, corn, sandals, beaches, shells friends and fun when she is chattering incessantly to no one in particular but getting exponentially irritated when no one in particular is listening to her.
I will chant, "god doesn't hate me" when I'm quite certain that he must unequivocally detest every fiber of my being when the children are in nuclear meltdown at the checkout of the grocery store.
With all that is in me, I will provide the children with the platform to have beautiful childhood summer memories that will stand the test of time, patience, tantrums, arguments, the blistering heat and their challenges.
I will survive, nay I will have fun.
The days grow long and I feel myself being pulled to the memories of my own childhood summers, playing badminton and volleyball using the clothes line as the net. Catching fireflies. Star gazing. Watching summer thunderstorms roll in from the corner of the corn field to our back yard while we sat on the covered porch savoring the smell of the rain and the cool wind on our faces. Fourth of July in the park, walking to the library for more Agatha Christie novels. Sleep overs. Hanging laundry on the clothesline and forgetting to take it off before dusk and the June bugs clung to the cotton fibers of your shorts as though their very lives depended upon it. Mowing the tall green grass that was thicker than a carpet. Watching bunnies hop out from under the shed in the early morning. Listening to the corn grow.
I wish my childhood summer memories could be my children's memories. Instead, it will be another summer of therapists marching in and out, approaching every conflict with a therapeutic flair, listening to Sissy whine or scream or tantrum and begging inside my head that she be a neurotypical 12 year old for just one day. Dancing around AB as his moods fluctuate and threaten like the dark cloud that hangs over only Eeyore's head. Trying desperately to bring normalcy to at least WG's childhood knowing that it's futile.
Lightening bugs. Anoles. June bugs. Stars. Blue moons. Fields. Thunderstorms. Windchimes. Books. Fireworks. Swimming. Sunburns. Hotdogs. Watermelon. Corn. Sandals. Beach. Shells. Friends. Fun.
That's what I want this summer to encapsulate. I hope I can make it happen. It won't be long before their own summer plans usurp mine.
I will myself to ignore Sissy's "Mom!!! Since we're here can I get a magazine?!" shrieks from the backseat of the van when I pull up to the gas pump.
I choose to not engage when she screams in my face, "My new earbuds hurt my ears! You know my ears are sensitive!!!" when she begged for new earbuds and has no problem with the pair except that she simply wants to use the headphones designated for the television and any excuse to prove that she should have that privilege is a better expressed excuse when screamed at 180db to my bewildered expression.
I will steel my nerves when she runs through the library holding herself and exclaiming loudly that she has to pee.
I will think of lightening bugs, anoles, stars, blue moons, fields, thunderstorms, windchimes, books, fireworks, swimming, sunburns, hotdogs, watermelon, corn, sandals, beaches, shells friends and fun when she is chattering incessantly to no one in particular but getting exponentially irritated when no one in particular is listening to her.
I will chant, "god doesn't hate me" when I'm quite certain that he must unequivocally detest every fiber of my being when the children are in nuclear meltdown at the checkout of the grocery store.
With all that is in me, I will provide the children with the platform to have beautiful childhood summer memories that will stand the test of time, patience, tantrums, arguments, the blistering heat and their challenges.
I will survive, nay I will have fun.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
New Problems
What is "under"? Because if I say, "the dishwasher detergent is UNDER the sink" why does my daughter reach for the Palmolive ON TOP OF the sink?
What is "be quiet"? Because if I say "Sissy, stop talking and BE QUIET" why does her mouth keep running? And then when I say, "BE QUIET!!!" a little more forcefully why does she scream at me that she's "NOT TALKING!"
What is "eat politely"? Because if I'm out in public and I ask my daughter to eat politely when she is having an ice cream, why does she have so much chocolate all.over.her.face.hair.hands.chin.and.clothes that it looks like she fell into a pile of poop?
What is "stop screaming"? Because if I say, "Sissy stop.screaming.at.me" why then does she proceed to get nose-to-nose and scream louder?
What is "put your things away"? Because I've asked Sissy ten times to put her personal items away and yet, they remain on the sofa, table, kitchen floor, hallway floor, kitchen counter, bedroom floor, back porch steps ...
What is "take your medicine"? Because I literally have to stand over my daughter at med dosing time and tell her five hundred times to take her pills while she gabs, talks, giggles, fusses, shouts, you name it.
What is "close the back door"? Because I've told her to close the door behind her countless times and yet, it remains open.
What is "do your best"? when my daughter comes to me with her sleeping bag all balled up and twisted into contortions with the string double knotted somewhere around the mid section and says, "i can't do it"? Because I know she hasn't done her best. And so does she.
If someone can please tell me where I'm erring in my efforts to communicate directives in the English language, I would be much obliged. Until then, I seem to have new problems to conquer, the least of which is that my 12 y/o daughter seems to have a hearing issue.
The best part so far for my Sunday morning that began three and a half hours ago? Sissy announcing that she'll be a teenager this year (eight full months from now) and not three seconds later she was in a full-blown two y/o toddler tantrum.
eh, perhaps I'd be more forgiving if I hadn't had the brilliant idea of spending quality time with the children in the tent in the backyard ... all night.
What is "be quiet"? Because if I say "Sissy, stop talking and BE QUIET" why does her mouth keep running? And then when I say, "BE QUIET!!!" a little more forcefully why does she scream at me that she's "NOT TALKING!"
What is "eat politely"? Because if I'm out in public and I ask my daughter to eat politely when she is having an ice cream, why does she have so much chocolate all.over.her.face.hair.hands.chin.and.clothes that it looks like she fell into a pile of poop?
What is "stop screaming"? Because if I say, "Sissy stop.screaming.at.me" why then does she proceed to get nose-to-nose and scream louder?
What is "put your things away"? Because I've asked Sissy ten times to put her personal items away and yet, they remain on the sofa, table, kitchen floor, hallway floor, kitchen counter, bedroom floor, back porch steps ...
What is "take your medicine"? Because I literally have to stand over my daughter at med dosing time and tell her five hundred times to take her pills while she gabs, talks, giggles, fusses, shouts, you name it.
What is "close the back door"? Because I've told her to close the door behind her countless times and yet, it remains open.
What is "do your best"? when my daughter comes to me with her sleeping bag all balled up and twisted into contortions with the string double knotted somewhere around the mid section and says, "i can't do it"? Because I know she hasn't done her best. And so does she.
If someone can please tell me where I'm erring in my efforts to communicate directives in the English language, I would be much obliged. Until then, I seem to have new problems to conquer, the least of which is that my 12 y/o daughter seems to have a hearing issue.
The best part so far for my Sunday morning that began three and a half hours ago? Sissy announcing that she'll be a teenager this year (eight full months from now) and not three seconds later she was in a full-blown two y/o toddler tantrum.
eh, perhaps I'd be more forgiving if I hadn't had the brilliant idea of spending quality time with the children in the tent in the backyard ... all night.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Another week of crazy looms on the horizon
After last week's school fiasco, Sissy ended up on a two week restriction at home and with much narrower parameters at school.
Voila. With the exception of Thursday night's rabble rousing event over toothpaste (why is it always toothpaste?!?) she has done SO.MUCH.BETTER.
We had a quiet weekend. She wanted to go full-tilt but I refused, refused, refused. We spent one and a half hours out of the house Saturday doing chores like recycling, a quick trip to the grocery store and a fun outing to browse the pet store with our dog in tow (it's silly but the kids really enjoy being allowed to take the dog into a store so even though we walk out of there empty handed, they have a blast.)
Her restriction is no TV, no Wii, no DS, no music beyond radio, early bed time. Two weeks. On her restriction contract we've included what she IS allowed to do. I made sure the list of DO's was longer than the list of DON'Ts.
The past 72 hours she's been so much better. Of course, she initially had trouble finding ways to amuse herself and wanted to pester, pester, pester for time with someone else and entertainment from another person. I simply said, "well, I have plenty of chores you can do..."
She's played with her dolls, her b.arbies, she finished another biography on E.lvis, she played outside, drew pictures, tidied up her space, brushed my hair, sat on the swing, took a bath and put herself to sleep.
Amazing how narrowing parameters makes the intense emotions fade. Of course, I'll probably be eating crow next time she hits another roadblock but I made sure to compliment her on her success of excepting her limits thus far. We've only had one ten minute time out for being mouthy since Friday morning.
I sure do like quiet in the house!
AB is loving life with his new glasses. He's also self-modulating by spending an inordinate amount of time on the trampoline. And may wonders never cease, the boy said, "mom. canIopenmywindowtogetfreshairinmyroom?" He recognized that his adolescent self had made his room a den of pre-teen boy aromas. He's such a cool kid. He watches M.thbusters over and over and over and laughs heartily at the same funny scenes a hundred times, begging for me to watch them time and again.
I'll politely say, "well, you've shown me that one before."
"Oh yeah. I forgot. It's so funny."
But I watch it anyway because I love to see and hear him laugh. He's also tremendously helpful. We made a quick run to H.ome D.epot to get a replacement blind for the back door, WG having annihilated the old one. Looking at the vinyl blinds, AB said "mom. this one is good." He was pointing to the bamboo version. He's right. It's much better. I like it when he makes suggestions that seem innocuous but are spot on perfect.
Their Aunt was here this afternoon just hanging out and I can't believe that he is only one inch shorter than she is. Good golly that boy has grown!
Speaking of growing, our caterpillars have hatched into beautiful painted-lady butterflies. One didn't make it but nonetheless, it's been so much fun. I never get tired of the wonder and curiosity of metamorphosis. Tomorrow we plan to release them and hopefully in the morning before the bus comes so the neighbor kids can participate too.
I'm rambling. It's late and it's Sunday and there's another week of craziness looming on the horizon. My but 6 a.m. comes quickly. Love to all!
We had a quiet weekend. She wanted to go full-tilt but I refused, refused, refused. We spent one and a half hours out of the house Saturday doing chores like recycling, a quick trip to the grocery store and a fun outing to browse the pet store with our dog in tow (it's silly but the kids really enjoy being allowed to take the dog into a store so even though we walk out of there empty handed, they have a blast.)
Her restriction is no TV, no Wii, no DS, no music beyond radio, early bed time. Two weeks. On her restriction contract we've included what she IS allowed to do. I made sure the list of DO's was longer than the list of DON'Ts.
The past 72 hours she's been so much better. Of course, she initially had trouble finding ways to amuse herself and wanted to pester, pester, pester for time with someone else and entertainment from another person. I simply said, "well, I have plenty of chores you can do..."
She's played with her dolls, her b.arbies, she finished another biography on E.lvis, she played outside, drew pictures, tidied up her space, brushed my hair, sat on the swing, took a bath and put herself to sleep.
Amazing how narrowing parameters makes the intense emotions fade. Of course, I'll probably be eating crow next time she hits another roadblock but I made sure to compliment her on her success of excepting her limits thus far. We've only had one ten minute time out for being mouthy since Friday morning.
I sure do like quiet in the house!
AB is loving life with his new glasses. He's also self-modulating by spending an inordinate amount of time on the trampoline. And may wonders never cease, the boy said, "mom. canIopenmywindowtogetfreshairinmyroom?" He recognized that his adolescent self had made his room a den of pre-teen boy aromas. He's such a cool kid. He watches M.thbusters over and over and over and laughs heartily at the same funny scenes a hundred times, begging for me to watch them time and again.
I'll politely say, "well, you've shown me that one before."
"Oh yeah. I forgot. It's so funny."
But I watch it anyway because I love to see and hear him laugh. He's also tremendously helpful. We made a quick run to H.ome D.epot to get a replacement blind for the back door, WG having annihilated the old one. Looking at the vinyl blinds, AB said "mom. this one is good." He was pointing to the bamboo version. He's right. It's much better. I like it when he makes suggestions that seem innocuous but are spot on perfect.
Their Aunt was here this afternoon just hanging out and I can't believe that he is only one inch shorter than she is. Good golly that boy has grown!
Speaking of growing, our caterpillars have hatched into beautiful painted-lady butterflies. One didn't make it but nonetheless, it's been so much fun. I never get tired of the wonder and curiosity of metamorphosis. Tomorrow we plan to release them and hopefully in the morning before the bus comes so the neighbor kids can participate too.
I'm rambling. It's late and it's Sunday and there's another week of craziness looming on the horizon. My but 6 a.m. comes quickly. Love to all!
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Screamfest 101
Yikes. A new blogger format. It scares me! *shivers*
Learning new technology stuff is annoying. I don't have the time to readjust. I'm too tired. Why do things change? Oh well,if they didn't I'd probably complain that it was boring.
Change has smacked me in the face this week. Sissy... she's coming undone. How she managed to avoid suspension this week is beyond me. She bribed another student: if she was paid $1.00 she'd stop stalking the student. When confronted by the teachers and the stalked student's parents, my daughter decided to reduce her fee to $0.50. If that wasn't enough, she marched up to the parents of the victimized student and told them what was what - explaining that it was THEIR daughter that was the liar.
I may have to insist that my daughter be returned to the EBD classroom. This is the third outburst during school in two weeks. Last week the PE coach was rather put-out to say the least when she approached me in the car rider lane, handing me a fist full of nail polish vials and a miniature skate board she had confiscated. Apparently Sissy was refusing to participate in PE, huddled in the corner fiddling with things. When approached by the coach who inquired what Sissy was doing, my child's first response was, "I didn't open the nail polish." But of course her hands and skateboard were covered with various colors. And whom did Sissy blame for her choice to squirrel away these items? The student she was stalking.
*bang head here*
So pretty much, it's been screamfest 101 out of Sissy's mouth every night this week including a crisis call Tuesday night. The therapist's opinion was that should she get that bad again, I should call 911. But do I REALLY want to go down that road again with her? Um. No.
Bottom line, I think this school business is driving her monkey train and moving back to EBD is likely the best bet. Let's hope I can convince the county of the same. I think I'll mention the fact that on Monday, just a few hours south of here, a six year old was handcuffed for her classroom tantrum. And do they really want that kind of publicity for our perfect little county? I don't think so.
That's enough of my pity party for today.
Learning new technology stuff is annoying. I don't have the time to readjust. I'm too tired. Why do things change? Oh well,if they didn't I'd probably complain that it was boring.
Change has smacked me in the face this week. Sissy... she's coming undone. How she managed to avoid suspension this week is beyond me. She bribed another student: if she was paid $1.00 she'd stop stalking the student. When confronted by the teachers and the stalked student's parents, my daughter decided to reduce her fee to $0.50. If that wasn't enough, she marched up to the parents of the victimized student and told them what was what - explaining that it was THEIR daughter that was the liar.
I may have to insist that my daughter be returned to the EBD classroom. This is the third outburst during school in two weeks. Last week the PE coach was rather put-out to say the least when she approached me in the car rider lane, handing me a fist full of nail polish vials and a miniature skate board she had confiscated. Apparently Sissy was refusing to participate in PE, huddled in the corner fiddling with things. When approached by the coach who inquired what Sissy was doing, my child's first response was, "I didn't open the nail polish." But of course her hands and skateboard were covered with various colors. And whom did Sissy blame for her choice to squirrel away these items? The student she was stalking.
*bang head here*
So pretty much, it's been screamfest 101 out of Sissy's mouth every night this week including a crisis call Tuesday night. The therapist's opinion was that should she get that bad again, I should call 911. But do I REALLY want to go down that road again with her? Um. No.
Bottom line, I think this school business is driving her monkey train and moving back to EBD is likely the best bet. Let's hope I can convince the county of the same. I think I'll mention the fact that on Monday, just a few hours south of here, a six year old was handcuffed for her classroom tantrum. And do they really want that kind of publicity for our perfect little county? I don't think so.
That's enough of my pity party for today.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
A welcome Return
I had the privilege of spending 16 days throughout the last month with my youngest sister as she passed in and out of town. I love her very much and wish she would stay but she's a free-agent, a traveler and has other things to do than make her big sister feel loved and at peace.
However, she did leave me a few treasures, including Tibetan meditation music, fresh sage for burning, a macaw feather,a medicine bag and the strength to keep on keeping on. With the addition of new skills learned in Orlando like hooping and practicing my own henna art (with paper and pen for now until my hand is steady), I feel like an energized woman. Incense, meditation, relaxation, mandalas all of it have given me hope.
Being back in the classroom has helped me spend my days productively. The teenagers are still teenagers but I don't mind. It gives me something else to think about during the day. My own kids think it's too cool that I'm back in the classroom and AB and Sissy are begging to be enrolled at my school next year as rising middle schoolers instead of the public school they're zoned for. Oh how I wish I could make that happen. The tuition bill alone doubles what I'd make teaching for the year. WG likes to come to my classroom and pretend she's a teacher. Sissy likes that we have a library. AB likes all the science stuff I have every where. It's really neat to see them interested in ME and what makes MOM happy.
We are even doing our own home experiments. The girls caught tent caterpillars and one has already gone to chrysalis. I think the other will die because Sissy keeps handling him. I purchased painted lady butterfly caterpillars and in one week they went from being one centimeter long to this!
The kids can't wait until they're all in chrysalis. I'm a little panicked that the tent caterpillars in the butterfly tent won't have hatched yet and as future moths, may pose a threat to the survival of the butterflies. Time will tell. But as luck would have it, cleaning out my classroom from the previous instructor, I found a certificate to order more butterfly larvae so I can repeat the experiment with my biology students. I don't know why but that just makes me so happy. Literally, I squealed with excitement when I found the certificate. I showed my students the postcard sized piece of paper and gushed and gushed about it but 14-15 year old teens don't much care about such things. So I guess that makes me the nerdy science teacher? Oh well!
AB has had some changes recently. He's walking so much better that he's not been wearing his AFO's for several months. It's a lot less hassle in the morning getting him dressed, I assure you. His growth has slowed some and he is steady at 85% height and weight. His voice is DEEP, it changed so fast and he's convinced he's part werewolf because his body hair has grown in so much. He's still not ready to shave his mustache and I teased him that it looked like one of the caterpillars we're growing. He thought that was hysterical. He's back in glasses, this time for near-sighted vision. He was so happy to put them on that he actually smiled! (If you know my son, you know that expressing outward emotion in a public place is HUGE.) Alas, in addition to getting glasses, he has failed the initial hearing test too so we're off to a specialist to rule out or confirm hearing loss. C'est la vie. We've been down this road with him before. We'll see what the tests reveal and go from there.
WG is doing much better at managing her anger and anxiety but the PTSD still affects her sleeping. She has nightmares frequently and despite my best efforts, I've not been able to convince her that sleeping alone or with a sibling will be just as good as being with mom. Thus, she is putting up royal fusses at bedtime, sleeping in the recliner, on the sofa, on the floor, in the hallway ... it's a mess. I really need to have my bed at night or I'd just let her sleep with me every night. But as tiny as she is, she can fill up a bed all by herself which makes her a lousy bed fellow. For now, we've tentatively agreed to her sleeping on a palate on my bedroom floor. *sigh* I keep telling myself this will pass. I remind myself that in no time at all she won't need me and I'll be the bane of her existence so I should revel in this time. But those admonitions are always usurped by my desperate need for alone time.
Sissy fussed and hollered at me this evening when I cut her outdoor time short for bedtime routines. Our county is doing state standardized testing and she needs proper sleep. She insisted that it didn't matter: she has already repeated fifth grade, doesn't need to pass the standardized test to move on to sixth grade and please, please PUHLEASE, she'd do anything, ANYTHING if I just let her have a few more minutes of scooter time. And anyway, she begged, she thinks she got all of the reading questions correct today. My can she wail and holler. In the long, narrow hallway her shrill screeches really echo.
When she gets like that, you can't reason with her. So I just stone-faced wait until her mouth is closed and there's no sound coming out of her being. When I open my mouth to speak, she usually starts in again with her wailing so she can't hear me. That's when I hold up my hand and count down from five with my fingers, her queue that if she's not silent to hear mom, she's getting a time-out consequence (and close to bedtime that means just going straight to bed.) My ears were still ringing when she stopped begging, just one finger still standing. "Sissy, if you hurry and do your routines you can read quietly until 8:30."
"oh."
It's so hard not to laugh! She dashed up lickety split and then when all was said and done, opted to just go straight to sleep. OK then. So all that screaming was for nothing. Fun times, fun times.
I'll never get used to seeing a 12 year old behave like a two year old but at least it doesn't ruffle my feathers anymore. I let her use up that negative energy but I don't reflect it back. Instead she gets a hug and love as a welcome return.
A quilt I made for my friend's baby who will be here no later than next Friday. I have two others like it just about finished and ready to put up on the etsy site.
My sister sporting a leather skirt she made by hand. It, along with many other items is for sale on my etsy site as well. Go check it out. The link is at the top of the right sidebar.
However, she did leave me a few treasures, including Tibetan meditation music, fresh sage for burning, a macaw feather,a medicine bag and the strength to keep on keeping on. With the addition of new skills learned in Orlando like hooping and practicing my own henna art (with paper and pen for now until my hand is steady), I feel like an energized woman. Incense, meditation, relaxation, mandalas all of it have given me hope.
Being back in the classroom has helped me spend my days productively. The teenagers are still teenagers but I don't mind. It gives me something else to think about during the day. My own kids think it's too cool that I'm back in the classroom and AB and Sissy are begging to be enrolled at my school next year as rising middle schoolers instead of the public school they're zoned for. Oh how I wish I could make that happen. The tuition bill alone doubles what I'd make teaching for the year. WG likes to come to my classroom and pretend she's a teacher. Sissy likes that we have a library. AB likes all the science stuff I have every where. It's really neat to see them interested in ME and what makes MOM happy.
We are even doing our own home experiments. The girls caught tent caterpillars and one has already gone to chrysalis. I think the other will die because Sissy keeps handling him. I purchased painted lady butterfly caterpillars and in one week they went from being one centimeter long to this!
The kids can't wait until they're all in chrysalis. I'm a little panicked that the tent caterpillars in the butterfly tent won't have hatched yet and as future moths, may pose a threat to the survival of the butterflies. Time will tell. But as luck would have it, cleaning out my classroom from the previous instructor, I found a certificate to order more butterfly larvae so I can repeat the experiment with my biology students. I don't know why but that just makes me so happy. Literally, I squealed with excitement when I found the certificate. I showed my students the postcard sized piece of paper and gushed and gushed about it but 14-15 year old teens don't much care about such things. So I guess that makes me the nerdy science teacher? Oh well!
AB has had some changes recently. He's walking so much better that he's not been wearing his AFO's for several months. It's a lot less hassle in the morning getting him dressed, I assure you. His growth has slowed some and he is steady at 85% height and weight. His voice is DEEP, it changed so fast and he's convinced he's part werewolf because his body hair has grown in so much. He's still not ready to shave his mustache and I teased him that it looked like one of the caterpillars we're growing. He thought that was hysterical. He's back in glasses, this time for near-sighted vision. He was so happy to put them on that he actually smiled! (If you know my son, you know that expressing outward emotion in a public place is HUGE.) Alas, in addition to getting glasses, he has failed the initial hearing test too so we're off to a specialist to rule out or confirm hearing loss. C'est la vie. We've been down this road with him before. We'll see what the tests reveal and go from there.
WG is doing much better at managing her anger and anxiety but the PTSD still affects her sleeping. She has nightmares frequently and despite my best efforts, I've not been able to convince her that sleeping alone or with a sibling will be just as good as being with mom. Thus, she is putting up royal fusses at bedtime, sleeping in the recliner, on the sofa, on the floor, in the hallway ... it's a mess. I really need to have my bed at night or I'd just let her sleep with me every night. But as tiny as she is, she can fill up a bed all by herself which makes her a lousy bed fellow. For now, we've tentatively agreed to her sleeping on a palate on my bedroom floor. *sigh* I keep telling myself this will pass. I remind myself that in no time at all she won't need me and I'll be the bane of her existence so I should revel in this time. But those admonitions are always usurped by my desperate need for alone time.
Sissy fussed and hollered at me this evening when I cut her outdoor time short for bedtime routines. Our county is doing state standardized testing and she needs proper sleep. She insisted that it didn't matter: she has already repeated fifth grade, doesn't need to pass the standardized test to move on to sixth grade and please, please PUHLEASE, she'd do anything, ANYTHING if I just let her have a few more minutes of scooter time. And anyway, she begged, she thinks she got all of the reading questions correct today. My can she wail and holler. In the long, narrow hallway her shrill screeches really echo.
When she gets like that, you can't reason with her. So I just stone-faced wait until her mouth is closed and there's no sound coming out of her being. When I open my mouth to speak, she usually starts in again with her wailing so she can't hear me. That's when I hold up my hand and count down from five with my fingers, her queue that if she's not silent to hear mom, she's getting a time-out consequence (and close to bedtime that means just going straight to bed.) My ears were still ringing when she stopped begging, just one finger still standing. "Sissy, if you hurry and do your routines you can read quietly until 8:30."
"oh."
It's so hard not to laugh! She dashed up lickety split and then when all was said and done, opted to just go straight to sleep. OK then. So all that screaming was for nothing. Fun times, fun times.
I'll never get used to seeing a 12 year old behave like a two year old but at least it doesn't ruffle my feathers anymore. I let her use up that negative energy but I don't reflect it back. Instead she gets a hug and love as a welcome return.
A quilt I made for my friend's baby who will be here no later than next Friday. I have two others like it just about finished and ready to put up on the etsy site.
My sister sporting a leather skirt she made by hand. It, along with many other items is for sale on my etsy site as well. Go check it out. The link is at the top of the right sidebar.
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