Very Expensive Knick Knacks

Being the good mother that I am, and wanting the best for my children, I’m always on the lookout for wholesome opportunities that will help me grow strong, healthy children. In addition to watching their diet, keeping them safe, and loving them beyond words, I realize that it’s important to provide them with opportunities to exercise their growing muscles. . .

Therefore, please explain to me why my children spend most of their time glued to their computers, or reading books, or working on arts and crafts? I’ll tell you what, it’s time for an intervention, that’s what that is!

A reality check moment occurred the other day. Googie was whining to me about how I never let him do any exercise, and how much he loved to run, and how I never let him go out for a run. When he was done with his exposition, and after I was done laughing uncontrollably (kids say the darndest things), I calmed down enough to ask him if he would like to join a cross country team. His brother was on a high school cross country team that also had a grade school team. It seemed to be a great solution to this problem.

He was so excited that he jumped up and down, hugged the guts out of me, and proclaimed me the best mother in the world. After I collected my guts and put them back in my body, we went to the cross country information meeting. He liked what he heard, so off we went to get a pair of real running shoes (real=expensive) and a couple of running outfits. All the bases were covered. No chance for an epic fail.

Eager to begin his first day of practice, Googie was dressed and ready to go. Running shoes. Check. Running clothes. Check. Giant water bottle filled with ice-cold water. Check. And out the door we went. We showed up to practice about thirty minutes early so we relaxed under a tree. The team started to show up. The coaches showed up. Practice began.

Googie had a lot of fun meeting the other kids on the team and taking part in the ice-breaker activities where everyone introduced themselves. Then just like that, the coach told everyone to run around the field to warm up, and a herd of runners took off. After the dust settled, I looked and saw Googie standing in the middle of the field, all alone, crying. 

I ran up to where he was. “What’s wrong?”

“Everyone is faster than I am”

“That’s okay, they have been running for a while. You’re a beginner. It’s okay.”

“I’m going to die!” he cries.

“No, you’re fine. Let’s just walk back.”

“I hate running! Why did you make me run? You think this is fun?”

“Yes, running is fun. You just went out too fast. You’ll be fine.”

“No! I will never run again! I don’t like cross country. I don’t like running on the grass. Why did you make me join cross country? I want to play soccer”

Thinking (or not thinking), I quickly point out, “Sweetie, soccer is running on grass after a ball.” This rational, statement flipped his switch. Did I say rational? Everyone knows that rational and children don't go well together. If Googie was upset before I said that, then he was completely unhinged at that point.

“You just don’t want me to do anything! You don’t want me to exercise! You don’t want me to have fun! You like to see me suffer! I never want to do this again!”  He was hysterical. I would also like to point out that there are not enough exclamation points in this world to express how that child sounded at that moment.

He was upset. I was upset. After I spent a fortune on cross country gear, he just quits on the first day of practice. Although I’m a firm believer that a person should finish what they start, I’m also a firm believer in peace and quiet. I think that twenty-plus years of practice as a mother have taught me this, at the least. And ten years of practice with this particular son have taught me that the probability of a good outcome if I insist he stay on the team and attend practices, would be zero. Weighing my options, I decided that he could quit.

Today, Googie is perfectly happy reading his books about Chemistry, building Rube Goldberg machines, and making a mess in our living room— while his running shoes sit nearby. His running shoes, very expensive knick-knacks, go really well with the décor in that room right now. Trés Chic!

The Reverse Miracle

It's really strange how sometimes a child can feel perfectly fine until it's time to go to school. We've been having some problems with getting Googie off to school in the mornings. He has a behavior contract at his school stating that if he finishes his homework before 8:30 in the evening, I sign his homework notebook and he gets extra time in the gym when he gets to school. You'd think it would be that simple?  Ha!

The main problem we seem to be having is that he comes home completely exhausted from his school day. I pick him up from school (which is about ten minutes away) and as soon as we get home, he falls asleep and stays asleep until the morning. You can imagine how hard it would be for someone to complete their homework while sleeping. You can also imagine how hard it would be to wake up a sleeping child that is either a very heavy sleeper or a gifted actor, one so talented that he won't even wake up for pizza and ice cream.

And so, here we are, it's morning and the dreaded homework wasn't completed the night before. Everyone wakes up, eats breakfast, and starts their day. Googie is happily sitting on the sofa reading a book about family games (that child doesn't read fiction, but I digress) when he calls out, "Mom, do I have to go to school today?" Which actually means, "I didn't complete my homework so I don't want to go to school."

I continue what I'm doing and casually answer, "Yes, it's Thursday. You go to school on Thursday, you know that." He doesn't say anything for quite a while and I continue to pack his lunch and get ready to leave.

Suddenly, and unexpectedly, I start to hear strange, wild animal sounds coming from the family room. It either sounds like a raccoon is dying or a coyote is giving birth. As I ponder how a raccoon or a coyote got into the house--maybe the kids left the back door open again last night, or there is something trapped in the chimney; stranger things have happened at this house--I walk over to the family room and find Googie doubled over in apparent pain, groaning, and clutching at his stomach. "My stomach hurts," he moans.

"It's a reverse miracle!" I exclaim as I usher him to the car and take him to school.

NaNoWriMo: Day ARGH!

No, I didn't just go all pirate on you. That's the sound of stress, but not stress caused by writing my quota of words for my NaNoWriMo novel. No, it's the sound of the stress caused by my attempt at trying to manage the stress in my life. When I embarked on this great, non-pirate filled journey, I envisioned long nights spent trying to come up with the words to fill a 50,000 word novel written in just one month. It does sound stressful, right? What I wasn't expecting was that coming up with the words wasn't the problem, the problem was that my life really is pretty stressful, and no amount of denial will cancel that out.

While I'm working on the novel, the words just seem to flow. Granted, I can't vouch for the quality of said words, which may end up being as good as a banshee screaming or me singing out loud (which actually sound like the same thing). Yes, while writing the novel I actually get lost in the story; I become the protagonist in my made-up world, and experience things that I have never done or will ever do as long as I retain my sanity (the jury is still out on that one). It's been an exiting, lucky, thirteen days of non-stop action.

My real life, on the other hand, has gone on as it usually does. With things needing to be done around the house, and me doing these things around the house. Then, today, I had an epiphany. Why don't I ask the other members of this household to help around the house a bit, especially now that I've taken up this temporary, new task of attempting to write a novel in one month. Some support here people, please? So I pick easy jobs like, "Someone, anyone, could someone please let the dog out?" I wait, repeat myself, no response, repeat myself again, then I hear "ARGH!" coming from the other room. Apparently, letting the dog out is a stressful job. So now I have myself under stress from all that needs to get done, and another family member that is stressed out beyond belief because of my bright idea to ask for help around here.

Then, I have an epiphany (great day for those, I hear). I will reduce my stress by not asking for help around here. Hear those crickets chirping? That's the sound of peace and quiet. The sound of stress reduction. The absence of ARGH!

It's a Thing!

 

As if life around here isn't complicated enough, now I have a new challenge: finding delicious gluten free and dairy free recipes.

I just recently learned that Bubba is gluten intolerant. We were already dealing with his casein allergy (a milk protein), and his peanut allergy, and my soy allergy. Yes, with each additional allergy, entire food categories are eliminated.

If you have ever been quoted as saying: "I just love pizza. I can't live without it, " watch out, you just might find yourself having to cut gluten (pizza crust has that) and dairy (um, hopefully I don't have to mention that cheese is a dairy food item) from your diet.

But I digress. What in the world is xanthan gum? That is the question. At our house, we spend a lot of time reading food labels, ingredient lists, nutritional information, recipes, and we do a lot of cooking from scratch. It's partly because we're concerned with eating a healthful diet, but mostly because we need to watch out for allergens in our food. While reading food labels we frequently would encounter xanthan gum. We would laugh about it, wonder what it was, joked about how delicious it was and about how we were all out of it and needed to add it to our shopping list. Little did we know that it was "a thing." Yes, you can walk into a store and actually buy xanthan gum.

And how do I know this? Because I found myself in the position of having to bake gluten free/dairy free brownies, and I learned that you need to use xanthan gum when you bake with wheat flour substitutes. It has something to do with having to make up for the elasticity that is lost when gluten is taken out of a recipe. Now, I can't speak for other recipes, but the first gluten free/dairy free brownie recipe I tried did not turn out too well. The brownies ended up being dense, crunchy, and not very chocolaty. And since I used oat flour, they sort of tasted like really bad oatmeal cookies.

However; being one to not give up so easily, the adventure will continue. I will explore strange new ways of baking, I will seek out new recipes and new ingredients, I will boldly bake what I have  never baked before.

Let's hope that it's yummy!

Where Are My Six Hours?

You would think that homeschooling two special needs children is very time consuming, you know, with the having to be responsible for all aspects of their schooling, their mothering, and the getting them to their various appointments, and you would be correct, it is time consuming. It's not just time consuming, it completely consumes you. It can consume you to the point that you forget you even exist.

Don't get me wrong, I loved homeschooling my children. By being with them all day long for so many years, I've come to know them and understand their challenges in a way I would have never gotten to know had they been in school for six hours every day. But I digress. The point I wanted to make was that now that my children are in a "brick and mortar school," I seem to have even less time. I'm busier than I ever was before.

What happened to the extra six hours a day I was supposed to gain by placing my children in a school outside the home? It seems that I spend all my time in the car, driving two children in two separate directions, driving them to two different schools,  getting them to their schools on time, taking them to separate doctors' appointments, taking them to all their various therapies, and picking them up from school on time, just so we can hurry back home, eat dinner, and spend more time driving around to their after school activities. And this is with just two children.

So, yes, although it defies all logic, I seem to have even less time now that my children are in school.

Where’s Your Pencil?

We homeschool.  We buy pencils. We buy lots and lots of pencils. We buy pencils by the case, big cases of fancy, Ticonderoga pencils, the ones that sharpen nicely, have nice strong leads that don’t break, pencils that last a long time—well theoretically they would last a long time, but I will never find out if that’s true, because once I sharpen one of these pencils, they get sucked into the black hole that I’m convinced we have in our house.  

Yes, I can always find a brand-spankin’, new pencil in the top drawer of my desk, an everlasting supply of pencils.  And all would be well if I didn’t give them to the children. 

“Googie, here is your phonics assignment for the day, and a pencil.  Go work on this in the other room.  I’ll check with you in about fifteen minutes to see how you’re doing, okay?” I say to my son as I hand him a freshly sharpened pencil and his phonics page.

“Uh, huh,” he says and quickly scampers away.  Fifteen minutes later, I go searching for him all over the house.  Surprisingly, he’s not in the other room.  Pencil, phonics page, and child have all gone AWOL.  And, no, I really didn’t expect to find him in the room, but a mom can dream, a mom can believe, a mom can hope, that her child will actually listen to her.  After another fifteen minutes of searching, I find the child hiding in the bathroom, under a blanket, in the bathtub (no, he didn’t fill the tub with water), reading a book about (his current obsession) astronomy.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Nothing”

“Where’s your phonics page?”

“I don’t know,” he says, still under the blanket.  Realizing that asking him to try to find the phonics page and the pencil would waste a few hours, I decide to go looking for them myself. Fifteen minutes later I find the phonics page under a pile of books in the family room, but the pencil is nowhere to be seen. 

 

“Fine,” I say.  “Here is your phonics page and here is another pencil.  Let’s go over to the other room to work on the page together.”  I follow him to the other room. Ha! I drag him to the other room. 

  

He decides that he wants to sit on the floor to work on his phonics page; I sit on a chair right next to him and pretend to read a book in order to make sure that he’s focused on his work.  Five minutes later I look down to check on him.  “So, how much have you gotten done?”

“I’m almost done,” he says.  I check his page and notice that he has barely started the assignment.

“Where’s your pencil?” I ask.

“What pencil?”

“The one I just gave you.”

My Children, the Space Cadets

I am the proud mother of two bona fide space cadets.  This past weekend Googie’s Cub Scout pack had an astronomy presentation for the astronomy belt loop, a type of award that Cub Scouts can earn. The program was going to start with a presentation and would conclude with some field work to give everyone a chance to use their telescopes. 

When we arrived, the scouts were already sitting on the floor in the front of the room while the adults were sitting behind them. The room was packed.  You could feel the excitement in the air.  Everyone that had a telescope had brought it.  Astronomy is one of Bubba’s hobbies so he brought some of his astronomy books and his six-inch Dobsonian telescope.  As soon as we walked in, Googie decided that he would be sitting in the very front of the room and since Bubba is a Den Chief, he was standing to the side with the leaders.  Normally I like to sit next to my children so I can remind them to keep quiet but all the adult seats close to the front of the room were taken.  This meant that I was as far in the back of the room as possible while still being in the same room.  

The man giving the lecture was very knowledgeable.  His presentation was clear and the scouts were very interested in what he had to say, especially mine as everyone there found out.  Now, for fun, my children are constantly reading books about astronomy and watching documentaries about space.  They don’t know much about popular music, video games or T.V. shows, but they can tell you everything you ever wanted to know (or not know) about astronomy.  Homeschooled children are weird that way, especially hyperactive or autistic ones.  The presentation started and so did my children.  They kept answering the questions and blurting out facts.  The leaders were trying really hard to get them to be quiet and give the other children and the presenter a chance to speak. Each time I heard one of my children’s name being called, I kept wanting to crawl and hide under the table.  Wait, I think I actually did crawl under the table. There was no stifling their enthusiasm.  They were convinced that they knew all about astronomy and they were going to let everyone there know it. 

Finally, we got a chance to go outside and look through the telescopes.  Although it was very windy that night, it was clear and cool and we were able to see quite a bit.  We were able to see Jupiter on the horizon with three of its four viewable moons.  We also saw the Orion nebula, the Pleiades cluster, and the craters on our moon.  (Yikes, it sure sounds like I know what I'm talking about!  Actually, Bubba filled me in on the details.) This wasn’t too bad for a night of stargazing in the city.  By then it was getting late so we had to pack up and leave.  I wanted to duck out ASAP when the presentation was over, but my space cadets didn’t let me.  They wanted to stick around and keep bombarding the man giving the presentation with questions and facts about space. I could see the poor man’s pleading eyes searching for mercy.  I literally had to drag each of my space cadets, one at a time, out of there by the elbow.  After that night I couldn't wait to go home to get some space.  Yes, beam me up Scotty…and hurry!

Multiplication with Regrouping

Eight-year old Googie was having problems getting his math assignment completed.  The topic was multiplication with regrouping.  He had to multiply a three-digit number by a one-digit number, and regroup or "carry over" the tens place of the answer.  His assignment consisted of two sheets.  One sheet had 32 problems

and the other sheet had 8 word problems

He started to cry when I told him that this was his assignment.  "It's too hard, Mom."  So I decided to do something to get him to complete his assignment.  Part of the beauty of homeschooling is that we can adapt the assignment.  First, I turned this into a two-day assignment. Then, I rewrote the problems sideways on pieces of notebook paper.  This helped him to keep his digits in the right place value position. 

Next, instead of having him regroup the tens place digits of his answers above the numbers, I had him write them below.

This made all the difference.  He was able to complete the entire assignment without any incident.  Of course, it also helped that I fashioned a study carrel out of my cardboard cutting board to help him stay on task.

He really enjoyed this, but I don't think that I'll be getting my cutting board back.

Anyway, not only was he able to complete his math in a timely manner and with a good attitude, he was able to finish all his other subjects, plus he earned the privilege to watch a movie at the end of the day.  I would say that it was a good day.

No Cheap Shots Here

The day started with a trip to the pediatrician's office. Five year old Goggie was due for his Kindergarten physical. Part of the physical included a developmenal screening including a vision and hearing screening. Well, the little man tested with possible language processing deficiencies/delays and poor vision. YIKES! I had no idea. After all the challenges of having Bubba diagnosed with Asperperger Syndrome, Sensory Intergration Dysfunction, Poor Gross Motor Skills, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Gifted I.Q. (with what they called and Engineer's Profile), poor vision, and Tourette's Syndrome, I thought that I had payed my dues. Not so. The journey continues.

Anyway, back to the shots. We had a total of seven shots today. Goggy had three "Kindergarten Shots" plus a flu shot. Bubba had a flu shot and I had two allergy shots. And the day had just started...

Later we had music lessons, tap class (for Mama) to which I had to take Googie and then a Boy Scout meeting. It was a long, long day. But at dinner time Goggie made this for us.

It puts things into perspective, doesn't it? What a day.