We were going to officially start grade 8 for Rob last week. But finally getting hot humid summer weather for a bit made us put that off till this week. After our unusually wet and chilly summer the sudden onslaught of heat left us all sort of brain dead.
We started this Monday though. I teach math and english. I thought I would make our first English unit "easy." This year there is a heavy focus on (cue scary music) creative writing. To say that creative writing does not come naturally to my son is the greatest understatement in the history of my blog.
However he recently read a book given to him by his mentor at church. It is called My most excellent Year. It has some really good "coming of age" themes running through it but it is also a good launching pad for creative writing. The main characters write very entertaining diary entries as the chapters unfold. It also has a strong baseball connection. Rob lives and breathes baseball. In my happy little world I figured since he had read the book all ready, that i would read it too. (I had all ready started it) I would create some unit questions and some talking points for us to consider and essentially this would be a walk in the park. So here is our first English class.
Me: Rob, this first unit I thought we would use "My most excellent Year." It will give us some great examples of different writing styles and I know that it is a book you enjoyed..
Rob: (staring at me like I have 3 heads) But I all ready read it.
Me: I know that, and that is why I thought it would be fun to launch English with this. Now, can you tell me x y and z about the characters?"
Rob: (staring at me again remains silent for so long that I go pour myself a cup of tea.)
Me: Rob, did you hear the question?
Rob: Yup.
Me: Well do you have any thoughts on that?
Rob: I dunno
Me. Why is that?
Rob: Well I read it weeks ago!
ROFLMAO Oh my inspired little English student. So I had him re-read the first 50 pages and then answer my questions. On the plus side, I like the book too. Wait till we have to do Lord of the Flies or something icky though! Sigh.
KC will not officially start his Kindergarten homeschooling till after Labor Day. K and i thought it would be easiest to phase them in at different times. This way Rob gets used to his schedule and will in my happy educational utopia become the self motivated eighth grade student I envision him to be. In reality, KC typically schools some every day regardless. He is a strong emerging reader and loves to read, write and do math. But still, adding a formal class time for himself took a little thinking and preparing on our part. Wait till a few years from now when Lissa is in there too! LOL
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Screaming Sunday!
Well not the whole day, but significant portions thus far. And just for the record, it is KC screaming, not me! I am not a screamer by nature. Come from a family of non screamers, so it just isn't in me to scream. I am stern yes, and down right mean sometimes (at least that is what the kids say, but scream? Nope)
Normally KC's my easy going guy, but of late, he has been going through a bit of a rough patch. Suddenly if he is angry he is *very* angry. Not just yelling and screaming but pitching things about. Sigh. Two days ago he lost his art table for the night because when I asked him to do something he didn't want to do (shower!) he pitched it end over end across the living room.
This morning he has screamed and wailed off and on most of the time he has been awake. Not constantly. He was fine when we all went grocery shopping. But in between times, any time life didn't go exactly his way, he screamed. Or pitched something. And lunch was a cheese quesadilla which ,according to KC ,is the equivilent of eating poison from the dark side. Much screaming. Much histrionics. Finally he did eat a quarter of it. Or else hid it really really well as I can't find it anywhere! LOL
One of the things I find different about parenting children who are mine through adoption is that I am always second guessing myself about what is "normal" and what might need intervention or assistance. Both of my two youngest were very slow to talk and I jumped right on the early intervention bandwagon. I don't in retrospect think that they spoke any quicker or more clearly as a result of EI. They talked when they were ready. In KC's case, he was just happy to observe the world. In Lissa's, music class unlocked speech for her in a way EI never did.
It is like that with emotional stuff too. Rob is quiet and entering the teen years. I spend time wondering if he is quiet and moody because he is a teen or because he has some festering issue that I should be ferretting out.
Chet's aspergers makes for the need to explain everything and to try and reduce emotions to something quantifiable that he can wrap his mind around.
Lissa is very high energy and impulsive, very prone to physical responses. Most times I think it is that she is 2. Well 2 and has 3 brothers! Sometimes I wonder if it is behavior that is in some way tied to the regular substance use by her birth mom.
And with KC I have the same worries and wonders. Most likely, he has just been challenging himself in so many areas to be "a big boy" that periodically he melts down over inconsequentials. But he too, has a history in his bio family that could impact abilities and behaviors. So I worry occasionally, and wonder. But for now, I am going to go make bread. Very therapeutic for the parent!
Normally KC's my easy going guy, but of late, he has been going through a bit of a rough patch. Suddenly if he is angry he is *very* angry. Not just yelling and screaming but pitching things about. Sigh. Two days ago he lost his art table for the night because when I asked him to do something he didn't want to do (shower!) he pitched it end over end across the living room.
This morning he has screamed and wailed off and on most of the time he has been awake. Not constantly. He was fine when we all went grocery shopping. But in between times, any time life didn't go exactly his way, he screamed. Or pitched something. And lunch was a cheese quesadilla which ,according to KC ,is the equivilent of eating poison from the dark side. Much screaming. Much histrionics. Finally he did eat a quarter of it. Or else hid it really really well as I can't find it anywhere! LOL
One of the things I find different about parenting children who are mine through adoption is that I am always second guessing myself about what is "normal" and what might need intervention or assistance. Both of my two youngest were very slow to talk and I jumped right on the early intervention bandwagon. I don't in retrospect think that they spoke any quicker or more clearly as a result of EI. They talked when they were ready. In KC's case, he was just happy to observe the world. In Lissa's, music class unlocked speech for her in a way EI never did.
It is like that with emotional stuff too. Rob is quiet and entering the teen years. I spend time wondering if he is quiet and moody because he is a teen or because he has some festering issue that I should be ferretting out.
Chet's aspergers makes for the need to explain everything and to try and reduce emotions to something quantifiable that he can wrap his mind around.
Lissa is very high energy and impulsive, very prone to physical responses. Most times I think it is that she is 2. Well 2 and has 3 brothers! Sometimes I wonder if it is behavior that is in some way tied to the regular substance use by her birth mom.
And with KC I have the same worries and wonders. Most likely, he has just been challenging himself in so many areas to be "a big boy" that periodically he melts down over inconsequentials. But he too, has a history in his bio family that could impact abilities and behaviors. So I worry occasionally, and wonder. But for now, I am going to go make bread. Very therapeutic for the parent!
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Home Repair Day
Our back door has a narrow walkway so it is pretty tough to find an angle that shows our new storm door to its best advantage. Last winter during the big ice storm, our old door nearly got ripped off the hinges. Never wanting to rush into anything, we replaced it today. LOL Actually it is more about getting the perfect convergance of money, time and good weather which luckily happened today. The new door is really nice. It closes. And latches without all the unusual drama that happened after the old one was damaged. You can even lock it with a key from the outside, though why anyone would consider a storm door lock secure I don't know. For security, I want my deadbolt locking system thank you!It only took about 4 hours to get the old door off and the new door on. When we put on the first storm door many years ago we didn't have power tools yet and it was an all day job. Power tools rock! I was even allowed to use the drill twice. Kirsty kind of micromanages me with power tools. I have what might be called "Tim Allen Syndrome." (all things can be solved with MORE POWER. I am showing my age here with the dated TV reference) Also I don't read instructions when I build things. Ever. I would rather figure it out as i go along. Yes, I will agree this sometimes means that i build it over. And over. Till it is right. But I don't sit around for 15 minutes staring at specs and saying "I just don't get it" and flipping the Z bar around in the air so much that i look like I am twirling a baton. LOL
In reality her way is undeniably better. The end result is awesome.
Thunderstorms and a clarification
OK, first a clarification. When I started the yesterdays post with the term "crazy liar" I wrote poorly. Sometimes my need for speed writing overwhelms using the english language more accurately and correctly. The sentence makes it sound like my son is crazy when I re-read it today. (as you may have surmised I didn't have time for proof reading last night and since I can't figure out how to edit a draft I don't use that feature and I just hit the publish button.) At any rate, to be clear, my son is not crazy. He exhibits what is commonly referred to as "crazy lying."
Last night we also had a bunch of thunderstorms. I am not surprised. The air quality has been poor lately. Heavy and hard to breathe. This is especially bad for K who has some asthma issues and I worry also for the younger kids who have histories of asthma in their bio families.
The storms didn't really clear the air but they did knock the temps down a bit.
Lissa doesn't like thunder. She was very cute though in her crib. She was crying and I ran up to comfort her. She said "Ooma me no like booms, me sleep with you." This is the most words she had strung together ever, so while I was wanting to comfort her I was also thrilled at the level of communication and articulation. I cuddled her and the storms rumbled off. It was too early for me to go to bed (7 pm.) so I told her that if she was still feeling like she wanted to sleep with us when I went up to bed that I would bring her in. She nodded and went happily back into her crib. And was also sound asleelp when I went up to bed at 10. Yahoo. There is room for her in the bed and she does sometimes join me, but in general she likes her own space when she sleeps.
While I have had lots of energy with the onset of the heat, I clearly must not have been hydrating myself adequately. I woke up in the night with a huge leg cramp. I used to get them all the time when I danced. I couldn't massage it out so I jumped out of bed thinking I could hobble around and loosen it. Bad plan. The right leg hurt so much that I hadn't noticed that I also had a big knot in the left leg and a cramp there as well. I literally dropped like a stone on the floor. In a bizarre way this was very amusing to me as the coolness of the floor felt good on the leg cramps and none of my kids or my wife stirred during this. Once I got them worked out, I fell back into bed (not literally folks!) and went right back to sleep.
I googled leg cramps this a.m. and the primary cause is dehydration or electrolyte imbalance. The latter doesn't happen to me often and I totally loathe drinks like gatorade so I am going to go on the assumption I need to drink more water. I have a hard time with water. My one unhealthy love is diet coke. Actually it is the bite of diet soda and the carbonation that I adore. This is not to say I do not drink water. I drink 3 to 4 glasses daily. But I don't love our city water. When I used to live in the country and have a well, now THAT was water! I can't really justify bottled water, especially since two big companies use regular city water in their bottles anyway, it doesn't taste any better to me. And I drink tea too, so I figured I was good. But it has been very hot and my bedroom is on the second floor and had no a/c or fan (I could have a fan but the noise of it makes it hard for me to sleep). So my plan for today is to install a new back storm door. . . oh yeah, and drink lots more water! :-)
Last night we also had a bunch of thunderstorms. I am not surprised. The air quality has been poor lately. Heavy and hard to breathe. This is especially bad for K who has some asthma issues and I worry also for the younger kids who have histories of asthma in their bio families.
The storms didn't really clear the air but they did knock the temps down a bit.
Lissa doesn't like thunder. She was very cute though in her crib. She was crying and I ran up to comfort her. She said "Ooma me no like booms, me sleep with you." This is the most words she had strung together ever, so while I was wanting to comfort her I was also thrilled at the level of communication and articulation. I cuddled her and the storms rumbled off. It was too early for me to go to bed (7 pm.) so I told her that if she was still feeling like she wanted to sleep with us when I went up to bed that I would bring her in. She nodded and went happily back into her crib. And was also sound asleelp when I went up to bed at 10. Yahoo. There is room for her in the bed and she does sometimes join me, but in general she likes her own space when she sleeps.
While I have had lots of energy with the onset of the heat, I clearly must not have been hydrating myself adequately. I woke up in the night with a huge leg cramp. I used to get them all the time when I danced. I couldn't massage it out so I jumped out of bed thinking I could hobble around and loosen it. Bad plan. The right leg hurt so much that I hadn't noticed that I also had a big knot in the left leg and a cramp there as well. I literally dropped like a stone on the floor. In a bizarre way this was very amusing to me as the coolness of the floor felt good on the leg cramps and none of my kids or my wife stirred during this. Once I got them worked out, I fell back into bed (not literally folks!) and went right back to sleep.
I googled leg cramps this a.m. and the primary cause is dehydration or electrolyte imbalance. The latter doesn't happen to me often and I totally loathe drinks like gatorade so I am going to go on the assumption I need to drink more water. I have a hard time with water. My one unhealthy love is diet coke. Actually it is the bite of diet soda and the carbonation that I adore. This is not to say I do not drink water. I drink 3 to 4 glasses daily. But I don't love our city water. When I used to live in the country and have a well, now THAT was water! I can't really justify bottled water, especially since two big companies use regular city water in their bottles anyway, it doesn't taste any better to me. And I drink tea too, so I figured I was good. But it has been very hot and my bedroom is on the second floor and had no a/c or fan (I could have a fan but the noise of it makes it hard for me to sleep). So my plan for today is to install a new back storm door. . . oh yeah, and drink lots more water! :-)
Friday, August 21, 2009
Earning Trust
My crazy liar is at it again. Last night I let him stay up late to watch the football game. We are all about football in our house, even the very littles! LOL But Rob most especially so. Staying up late is a pretty big gift in our house also because he has a hard time functioning with less sleep. He just as my grandmother used to say, "can't think his way out of a paper bag with both ends open and a pair of scissors" when he is tired. So I always plan for the next day to be super low key if he is up late.
I was alternately watching Project Runway and the football game. (I know, weird, but it is still preseason guys!!) I realized I could hear this weird unidentifiable noise. I went to our hall and peeked into the living room. There I watched Rob slowly tip his head back to the ceiling, then haul off and spit onto the living room floor. Actually make that living room rug. Can we all have a unison "ewwwwww" here! LOL OK I am not sure if I was really just mesmerized by the grossness or if I was being diligent in making sure my eyes were not deceiving me, but I watched him do this 3 more times. At which point I went into the living room and told him he could go to bed now and why. That would be when he told me he wasn't spitting, he was blowing on a fly. Uh, huh. Swamp land in Lousiana for sale!!! I don't know what all he could have come up with to explain the tell tale wet spot on the rug, but I didn't give him time to create.
This morning I asked him to write 10 pairs of adjectives for the word "spit." That was really just his English brush up for the day. We have been struggling with getting him to use sufficient meaningful adjectives. I figured use what he was apparently interested in. I must say the pairings were well thought out and effective in their descriptive abilities. Ugh. (laughing though)
Then I asked him to write me three paragraphs about honesty and responsibilty. He wrote this while I was at work and I read it after supper tonight. It was telling. It is clear that he feels the need to be honest to his siblings and that he feels responsibility to them. But there is nothing there that would indicate those feelings translate to Kirsty or I.
This is undeniably sad. It is also what I expected he felt. My guess is that he is perpetually waiting for us to show him that we can not be trusted. That we will fail him somehow in some way that I don't even know about. Because the first five years of his life, that is what the adults in his life did. Over and over. And at some deep level all adults are the same to him.
What he doesn't know is that I will keep working every day to show him that I may not always be the parent he wants. But I am the parent he can trust. Always. That I follow through on my promises. That I love him unconditionally. Even when I have to steam clean my rug.
I was alternately watching Project Runway and the football game. (I know, weird, but it is still preseason guys!!) I realized I could hear this weird unidentifiable noise. I went to our hall and peeked into the living room. There I watched Rob slowly tip his head back to the ceiling, then haul off and spit onto the living room floor. Actually make that living room rug. Can we all have a unison "ewwwwww" here! LOL OK I am not sure if I was really just mesmerized by the grossness or if I was being diligent in making sure my eyes were not deceiving me, but I watched him do this 3 more times. At which point I went into the living room and told him he could go to bed now and why. That would be when he told me he wasn't spitting, he was blowing on a fly. Uh, huh. Swamp land in Lousiana for sale!!! I don't know what all he could have come up with to explain the tell tale wet spot on the rug, but I didn't give him time to create.
This morning I asked him to write 10 pairs of adjectives for the word "spit." That was really just his English brush up for the day. We have been struggling with getting him to use sufficient meaningful adjectives. I figured use what he was apparently interested in. I must say the pairings were well thought out and effective in their descriptive abilities. Ugh. (laughing though)
Then I asked him to write me three paragraphs about honesty and responsibilty. He wrote this while I was at work and I read it after supper tonight. It was telling. It is clear that he feels the need to be honest to his siblings and that he feels responsibility to them. But there is nothing there that would indicate those feelings translate to Kirsty or I.
This is undeniably sad. It is also what I expected he felt. My guess is that he is perpetually waiting for us to show him that we can not be trusted. That we will fail him somehow in some way that I don't even know about. Because the first five years of his life, that is what the adults in his life did. Over and over. And at some deep level all adults are the same to him.
What he doesn't know is that I will keep working every day to show him that I may not always be the parent he wants. But I am the parent he can trust. Always. That I follow through on my promises. That I love him unconditionally. Even when I have to steam clean my rug.
Botox and Migraine relief?
I have pretty consistant migraines. Not as many as some people but between 2 and 3 monthly. They can last anwhere from 1 to 3 days. I have had them since I was 19. However I have never really done anything about them. I don't discuss it on the rare occasions when I visit my family Dr. I have zero interest in taking things like Imitrix. The drug and others like it have some pretty strong warnings about heart stuff. This was enough to make me "just say no" because heart disease runs on both sides of my family. I am not going to have a heart attack just so my head stops feeling like I should chop it off.
So for the most part, I have learned to live with this. I wear really dark sunglasses a lot. And I think the kids can tell when I sort of move more gingerly. I am a sort of high speed person so I think that there is a cautiousness in how I move when my head hurts that they pick up on. KC in particular seems able to tell without even asking me which is sort of wild.
I have done the non medical things that are supposed to help with mixed results. Getting rid of caffiene for a few years did nothing. Getting rid of dairy helped slightly but not enough to make me permanently sever my love affair with a dish of ice cream. Niacin didn't help at all. I am apparently unable to learn how to meditate (laughing). I have tried. I either fall asleep or start making "to do " lists in my mind.
But yesterday a resident where I work came in and was talking about the fantastic results she had for her migraines with botox injections. I have since been researching this on the net and it looks intriguing, though it of course doesn't work for everyone. And it is i think probably expensive. And the idea of botox creeps me out a bit. Hmmmm.. . .
So for the most part, I have learned to live with this. I wear really dark sunglasses a lot. And I think the kids can tell when I sort of move more gingerly. I am a sort of high speed person so I think that there is a cautiousness in how I move when my head hurts that they pick up on. KC in particular seems able to tell without even asking me which is sort of wild.
I have done the non medical things that are supposed to help with mixed results. Getting rid of caffiene for a few years did nothing. Getting rid of dairy helped slightly but not enough to make me permanently sever my love affair with a dish of ice cream. Niacin didn't help at all. I am apparently unable to learn how to meditate (laughing). I have tried. I either fall asleep or start making "to do " lists in my mind.
But yesterday a resident where I work came in and was talking about the fantastic results she had for her migraines with botox injections. I have since been researching this on the net and it looks intriguing, though it of course doesn't work for everyone. And it is i think probably expensive. And the idea of botox creeps me out a bit. Hmmmm.. . .
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
The wheel turns
I have railed against the changing of the seasons this year. I feel cheated because we didn't get real summer weather till about a week ago. 2 weeks ago it was only 50 degrees in the morning when I got up at 5:45. Now I'll grant you that's not frigid, but it isn't hot either. And I LOVE hot! I get energized in hot. Weird but true.
But this week has been making me feel like it was really summer after all. We have played with water balloons in the yard, done "fishing" in our "pond." Washed the car so we could squirt each other with the hoses. Played with water shooters. It has been fun. Saturday and/or Sunday weather permitting I will take them all to the beach. But there is a hurricane coming up the coast and it may rain this weekend so all of that is subject to weather.
I am glad to have at least had this bit of summer. The wheel of the year is turning, try though I might to pretend otherwise. It is a lot darker at 5:30 or 5:45 when I get up in the morning these days, and night is enfolding us more quickly. Twice I have heard geese honking as the premigratory flocks begin to gather on the pond down the street from us. The sumac is red. The flowers that grace our kitchen altar are different now too. We pick wildflowers at the park almost every time we go. The bouquets mark the progress of the seasons. Violets and mallow in the early spring, queen anne's lace and asters for high summer. Then suddenly the bouquets become studded with the bright yellow of goldenrod and I have yet another indication that summer is passing and fall is around the corner.
It is hard to be ready. But I am trying to embrace it. I really think it is important to find beauty in all the seasons, because the earth we live on is such a gift.
But this week has been making me feel like it was really summer after all. We have played with water balloons in the yard, done "fishing" in our "pond." Washed the car so we could squirt each other with the hoses. Played with water shooters. It has been fun. Saturday and/or Sunday weather permitting I will take them all to the beach. But there is a hurricane coming up the coast and it may rain this weekend so all of that is subject to weather.
I am glad to have at least had this bit of summer. The wheel of the year is turning, try though I might to pretend otherwise. It is a lot darker at 5:30 or 5:45 when I get up in the morning these days, and night is enfolding us more quickly. Twice I have heard geese honking as the premigratory flocks begin to gather on the pond down the street from us. The sumac is red. The flowers that grace our kitchen altar are different now too. We pick wildflowers at the park almost every time we go. The bouquets mark the progress of the seasons. Violets and mallow in the early spring, queen anne's lace and asters for high summer. Then suddenly the bouquets become studded with the bright yellow of goldenrod and I have yet another indication that summer is passing and fall is around the corner.
It is hard to be ready. But I am trying to embrace it. I really think it is important to find beauty in all the seasons, because the earth we live on is such a gift.
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