Best Census PSA! Live long and prosper!

Trend spotting: high fashion rubber art boots

In true Vashon style, they came out of their houses, left their gardens, stumbled to town and showed up at our "Bling the Boots" art party.

Some people jumped right in. Others were sort of confused and needed some urging. But, boy! Did they deliver!

We tried to keep the hot glue gun burns to a minimum as it was an all ages event.

We took over the big excellent craft table at Books by the Way. Jenni was kind enough to host the event and get us set up.

I had been gathering bling for weeks.

Many trips to grannies for wacky little crafty do-dads to glue onto boots; lace, electrical tape, fringe, beads, buttons.

Mission accomplished.

I gathered bags of bugs and gems and frogs and flowers all just looking for a new home on the art boots islanders created for the much anticipated Rubber Boot Fashion Show April 9th at The Red Bicycle, 8:00 - 11:00.

Ok, people! There is still plenty of time to create your own masterpiece and support BARC all in one fell swoop!

We had so much fun, plus there were a few people who couldn't make it so we're going to do another one, April 6th, 12-2 at Books by the Way.

This has been such a fun and motivating event to work on. The buzz is happening and people are jumping on the bandwagon!

How about you!?

Vashon Idol & Rubber Boot Fashion Show - April 9th

When I moved to Vashon 10 years ago, I noticed something right away:

1.) Us islanders sure have a lot in common; mainly a high tolerance for pretty much anything - as long as we can live here. And, 2.) We are all a bunch of notorious hams and talented show offs!

Therefore, I am sure you will not want to miss this much-anticipated all ages event: The Vashon Idol Talent Contest & Rubber Boot Fashion Show at The Red Bicycle on April 9th, 8:00 – 11:00 pm.

Join us for a fun and entertaining evening! Show off your high-fashion wellies on the “cat walk” plus see all the one-of-a-kind art boots created by island artists. Three discerning judges will pick the winning art boots with audience participation. The winning pair will be auctioned off to support BARC which is making its next big push on the next phase of the master plan.

All proceeds will go toward a $5,000 challenge grant for BARC (Burton Athletic Recreation Center) secured by freelance grant writer, Allison Shirk who has been working tirelessly for the Vashon Parks District with excellent results.

We are also thrilled to announce a mystery “Fashion-ista” to hostess the evening! Who is she? Nobody knows! You will just have to show up to find out!

How about you songbirds! Who will get the title of – Vashon Idol for the evening? A professional karaoke machine with 4,000 songs assures that all will be able to belt it out with the best of them.

Knowing Vashon, the competition may be fierce but don’t let that stop you! Come on out and ham it up with the best (or worst) our island has to offer! Or just be part of the highly amused and entertained audience! Either way, this is the party for you!

Kids will need to scram by 11:00 but adults older than 21 will be allowed to continue until the Red Bicycle sends them packing.

So warm up those pipes and dust off these boots and mark your calendar for this fun and frolicsome community event!

To enter either contest or for more info contact Shelley at 206-463-3256 or freshground@comcast.net

Bubble goes to kindergarten

Our beloved SLP (Speech Language Pathologist) has been threatening to make a school visit for some time.

Logistics made it difficult until lately because Bubble now lives on Vashon! She spends long weekends out here and sees Shea every Saturday or Sunday depending on what is going on.

I blubber my thanks and more thanks every once in a while because I don't have to drive Shea to the big city every week anymore and we still get to see our beloved, Bubble. I feel so dang lucky!

With all the shake up with placement for next year, she offered to go in an see how he was doing and give me her opinion of whether moving onto 1st grade would be a good idea.

She visited yesterday and then called immediately and gave me a long, detailed report.

Shea listens in class! He pays attention! He converses with his classmates! And, he raises his hand to answer questions!

Bubble says he gets along well with his typically developing classmates and they seem to like him. I mean, who wouldn't, right? But she says he smiles all the times and greets other enthusiastically, is in good humor and he draws others to him.

To say that I literally gasped with relief and joy is an understatement. For a long time I have wanted to be a fly on the wall, to see him objectively, but my presence is just too big and encumbering when I am there. Shea is way too aware of me and my being there effects how he acts.

Bubble is leaning more and more toward 1st grade for our sweet boy. And, unless some of the standardized assessments paint a wildly different picture, I think we will go for it.

Part of it is: raising the bar high. Last year, when I was sure Shea wasn't ready for Kindergarten but the school thought he should give it a try, I was joyously amazed at his progress and how far he has come. I am thinking that the tendency to coddle and protect, although understandable, might hold him back.

If his very familiar specialists feel he is ready to blaze a new trail, who am I to contradict? I am the worry wart. I am the frettful mommy always with the "What if?" rolling around in my head.

Maybe that is what happens, after a while you learn to listen. Is that age? Is that wisdom? Is that fatigue and relief that someone else is making decisions?

I have decided it doesn't matter.

A dear friend had a little dinner party the other night at her place on the beach with all my favorite people. There were tons of kids and Shea was down there doing all that they were doing; canoeing, throwing rocks in the water, helping to build a beach fire.

I was watching from the deck and thought, "Shea is 6 and Molly is almost 12." In 6 more years she will be 18." There is something about these numbers. I know I will never stop being a mother but I feel like 2/3 of my heavy lifting is done with Molly and 1/3 with Shea.

And, then that soft, sticky, cloud of doubt descends again. I know that Molly will be well prepared for life at 18. Oh, don't worry, I will still be checking in on her no matter what. But Shea? What will he be like at 18?

If this, raising the bar high strategy is any indicator, he will be just fine. Maybe not quite as independent as his sister but who knows.

There is a secure and happy place in this world for Shea. A place for us all.

"Bling the Boots" free art party @ Books by the Way in Vashon March 27th

Sometimes a really wonderful fund raising event comes along and everything just falls into place.

The ideas roll off your tongue and plop happy and fully formed in your collaborators midst, decisions get made matter of factly, nobody has power struggle problems and the goal always stays in site.

Because I am a steward for the Skate Park or BARC (Burton Adventure Recreative Center) I got pulled in to help with the event. And, I am glad to do it because the Vashon Parks department secured a $5000 challenge grant for the next phase of the project which will offer multiple upgrades plus a large outdoor skating area.

The event is...drum roll please....

The Vashon Idol & Rubber Boot Fashion Show! :-)

I did not come up with this idea but it is so perfect I am giddy.

It will be held at a local bar and eatery, The Red Bicycle on Friday night, April 9th, 8:00 - 11:00. It will be all ages until 11:00 then all the under-agers have to scram.

So, I started thinking, "Hmmmm....we better have some good entries for the fashion show." and a plan started swirling and formulating in my brain. Why not have a party and decorate a bunch of boots? We could auction some off!

Their eyes goggled when I brought it up to Molly and her friends and suddenly the party outgrew my kitchen.

So, we are having the party at the charming bookstore on Vashon called Books by the Way where the lovely and talented owner has a huge craft table all set up. We have multiple hot glue guns at the ready and will supply literally pounds of plastic gems and all sorts of bugs, frogs, fish and butterfies plus ribbon, paints, lace and anything else we can think you would need to "bling up" boots.

This it the creative art process in action, people! Join us if you can!

**************************************************************************************

We need creative people to gather and “bling” some rubber boots. Join us at Books by the Way on March 27^th, 12:00 – 2:00 and help us transform a whole bunch of ordinary recycled Granny’s rubber boots of all sizes into fabulous fashion “wellies” worthy of the catwalk.

Show your support for BARC and utilize Book by the Way’s excellent craft zone where free art supplies, plenty of artistic doodads, multiple hot glue guns and tons of inspiration with be on hand. Feel free to bring your own boots and “blings” if so desired.

All boots will be displayed at Books by the Way until the upcoming “Rubber Boot Fashion Show” where they will be “modeled” by islanders, judged and the winners auctioned off.

All proceeds will go toward a $5,000 challenge grant for the BARC (Burton Adventure Recreation Center) as they make a big push toward the next phase of building.

For more information call Jennie at Books by the Way 206-463-2696 or Shelley Dillon at 206-463-3256.

Failing schools....

Rep. Bunning says "Tough shit..."

When confronted with the reality of stopping the Unemployment Bill that would extend unemployment benefits and COBRA to millions of Americans, Rep. Jim Bunning of Kentucky says, "Tough shit!"

Wow. I wonder if he has drowned any kittens lately too. Heartless bastard.

What is a diagnosis?

I am probably thinking about this because Shea is coming up on his big "6th" birthday and he will be crunched through a whole battery of new testing to define his needs for his new Elementary school IEP.

I was thinking about a diagnosis and what if they decide to change Shea's. Wondering if it will change how I see his needs. Wondering if it will change our plans. Wondering if it will piss me off again.

I have been nervous about this for a while. Typically, I hate standardized testing and the attempt to pigeon hole a child with some test that someone made up and charged the school big bucks for. In reality, these tests are just a brief little window into how the child is doing that day, at that minute. And, may not even be a very accurate one either. But, it is all we have.

It is understandable that the school needs to put the child is some sort of measurable framework. I get all that. But it still rubs the wrong way.

Although, it is sort of frightening how a person gets used to it over time. Now, I am anxiously looking forward to these tests to just see where Shea lands in with his peers. Looking for some clues on how we should proceed with placement for next year. Hoping for a "good news" that mainstreaming will be the obvious choice yet they will not try to deny him speech services. All of the above.

How things have changed. When Shea went through this at 3, I resented every single standardized test. I resented the pigeon-holing. I resented everything. Obviously, I was in a pretty bad place at the time or I might not have literally cried through that 3 year old IEP meeting.

I felt the tests were superseding what I knew instinctively. I felt the test were given more weight than what I saw and felt. I wondered how a non-verbal child could take a predominantly verbal test. And, yes, I was pissed! Pissed at the world. Pissed that we had to do this. Pissed that my kid was being pigeon-holed and slapped with a pre-determined future. Pissed at myself because surely I must have done something wrong. Pissed at the whole damn show.

So, now looking back. Did I cry through the whole IEP meeting because I was pissed? Probably. But, unfortunately, not as simple to define as that.

Parents who have gone through this know. They know that it is a sometimes toxic emotional stew that we fester in as we get used to the idea that our child has special needs and what the hell that will mean for the future.

Literally; a stew. Anger, fear, guilt, indignation, skepticism, disbelieve, annoyance, anxiety, shame.

I remember sitting there needing a constant supply of kleenex. I could not keep the tears in check. I am not a person who cries often. Sure, I will tear up at movies and books and be overwhelmed with emotion at time but I have never NOT been able to stop crying. I took tissue after tissue and shoved them wadded up, snotty and drenched in my pocket.

Over heated, over-stimulated, hyper-emotional, near panicked with fear; that is why I could not stop crying. So, saying I was pissed is a gross over simplification although not completely untrue.

I won't be like that this time, I know. I have learned so much. I am not sitting in the role as a passive person anymore. Advocacy changes all that. Connecting with other parents and organizations change all that. Seeing that life lessons teach us even when it is sometimes sad, changes all that.

But it hasn't been easy, it never is.

The earth is a shakin'!

After Haiti, I thought about it. After Chili, I really started thinking about it.

Living on the Pacific Rim in an earthquake zone, the likely potential of an earth shake up never quite leaves your worry sheet.

Oh sure, the Pacific NW is beautiful and mild and we all those cute ferries and Orcas and stuff. But we also happened to have built this beautiful city right on top of the most active fault line on the planet.

Not very good planning. But we are humans after all, what does that have to do with long term planning? During those early rough and tumble Seattle days, they were way to busy selling camping and mining gear to the gold feverish at an obscene profit to think about long term. In fact, if there is anything about the NW that I can pin point is that they didn't do much thinking about long term at all. Like the I-5 double decker viaduct built on marshland for example. Oh, and the monorail.

Hense back to imminent big one.

I sometime have nightmares about earthquakes. That I am somewhere and the earth starts flopping around like someone is jumping on the bed. It is terrifying. Normal everyday objects become missiles and I wake up with that sick feeling in my stomach.

I haven't had one in a while. But reality is filling in the blank space for me nicely.

I was certainly around for the last good sized one here in Seattle, I guess it was 2000. I had just gone through the Battery Street tunnel, yet another place you wouldn't want to be during a quake, and was heading up to Greenwood. I watched people sidewalk surfing. That is exactly how it looked. I watched telephone poles swaying. I looked around at the other people in the cars and, yes, they were terrified too.

There really isn't much you can do. Strap your house to the foundation. Know which wall in your house is a bearing wall.

Pray if you're the praying type.

I am not.

But I do get the idea sometimes that the earth is mighty pissed off at us. Couldn't blame her really with all the shallow regard we have been heaping on it for say... a very long time.

My thoughts are with my human neighbors is Haiti and Chile. It might just be use someday.

We say "Weeeeee!" for Wii

Being late adopters, it takes us a while to jump on the bandwagon. But for Christmas, I buckled and got a Wii for the family.

First, I barely knew what I was buying and if it wasn't for my tech savvy 11 year old I would have given up with annoyance.

But the contraption has arrived and has become a much bigger presence in our house than the little box implied.

Secondly, who likes the Wii? Oh, I tried it out, did some bowling, even through my back out a bit from being to vigorous (the first Wii injury in the house?) but the blush is off now and I couldn't care less.

Shea is the undisputed Wii king with Molly popping in every once in a when her Facebook chat is not as stimulating as usual. Although, it seems to devolve into argument which was definitely NOT the idea.

But Jake is the surprise. I was hoping he would like the tennis or baseball but WOW! does he like tennis and baseball! Nightly Jake and Shea battle it out on the courts. Shea has always been amazingly athletic with good reflexes and excellent hand/eye coordination but I didn't really think it would roll over to the Wii. I mean it is just a blasted computer game right?

I guess not.

Jake says it is really fun to play with Shea because he is so good. In fact too good to bowl against as he bowls a consistent 200. Is that even possible?

So, out of a box and magically plugged into the TV, my boys connect nightly with wicked overhead slams and amazing cross court volleys.

Psychologically, I think it helps Jake's winter blehs. And, I know it is some excellent bonding glue for Shea who admittedly is a bit of a mommy's boy.

While Shea and Jake tear up the courts from the comfort of our TV room, Molly sends me abbreviated comments on Facebook chat.

"Hi!" and "How r u?" she types from the other room. I always drop what I am doing and answer back although I can't get the hang of the jargon.

In a fit of worry, I asked her, "Will you always be honest with me if I ask who you are chatting with?" She hedges as graphic fears reach up my gullet, coupled with visions of the creepiest creepster somehow getting access to my beautiful daughter.

Annoyed, she changes the subject, thinking that I am being nosy about what boy she likes or what so and so said in the hall and then "OMG! She said what?". It prompts yet another talk about creeps and keeping yourself safe and not chatting with people you don't know. She nods, grave, a bit scared at my seriousness.

And, when she is at school sometimes, I check to see what she has been up to.

I am a spy...for love.

The brainy math girl posse

I was trying to describe my middle schoolers group of friends recently. Trying to define where she fit in, if she does at all. All I could come up with was that she hangs with the smart, kooky brainy kids. Kooky in the way that she is shamelessly ok with being clowny and possibly obnoxious at times but definitely unique and an individual. She has found some similarly kooky and irreverent kids and seems to have a solid thing going.

Perhaps we could call it the "odd duck" posse but what a posse to have.

I know there is mean girl stuff happening. Even in our bucolic little small town. Most of these kids have known each other since they were teenie. I know that the odd duck posse is very easy to point and laugh at although I think they are a little afraid to bug them too much. Who knows what they are capable of? Somthing horrendously embarrassing, no doubt.

But the odd duck posse seems to hang together for the joy and fun of it, not for preservation or protection. Thank god! But it is early daze yet.

Today the 6th grade math kids go off to the Math is Cool competition. This will be the 3rd year that my middle schooler has participated. The amazing lack of nerves and bold, raw confidence shows what it feels like to have a couple of these under your belt. She is "fired up and ready to go".

This year there are 2 full classes of advanced placement math. That is like 45 kids out of 110. What is that? Around 40%? When the try outs came down for the competition, my brainy math girl got the highest score in her one class shocking more than a few of the other kids and maybe the teacher too.

Needless to say she got her place on the team. They assemble 4 teams of 4 with 2 alternates. 16 kids out of the 45. I am sure there was disappointment out there. Wish it didn't have to be that way. Frightening how we hone these kids to be so competitive, putting them through the paces. Scary really. For some of them, competition is all there really is. We try to keep it a bit more balanced around here but it is hard.

So, 2 girls and 2 boys on each team. Thankfully, at least, they make sure there is gender equality for this thing! The other girl on my brainy math girls team is a kid she has known forever, a very competitive kid and not really a friend. Could she be considered one of the mean or popular kids? Probably, although I don't know. My kid's exuberance and joie de vive probably just bugs the hell out of her. Can't say I blame her. And, she is from a much more conservative family; politically, socially, everything.

Initially there was some dismay, so I tried to turn it on its head, "Because you guys are on the same team, all that competitiveness can be directed out! You guys will be a very strong team partly because she is so driven. She won't be competing against you but with you."

"Good point." she says and hasn't brought it up since. Hope that is how the other kid sees it too.

Because, you see, I am going to have to go strictly by hearsay. Again, I will not be going to help out. I wanted to, don't get me wrong. I wanted to real bad but my kid said no. But I went for the 4th grade one so I can pretty much imagine it.

So, I will hoover up the details, the gory and the glory, and send positive math thoughts and happy equation wishes to her all day! And, of course, faithfully report back.

Good luck brainy math kids! Life is so much more than winning a contest but, hey, winning feels pretty good! Go get 'em!

Update:

Just got the word; 1st place 3 years in a row!

Camelia. Camelia? Camelia!!!

Here in the NW we are skipping through the warmest late winter in our history. Or since anyone decided to keep track. A real honest to goodness El Nina year.

Unfortunately for our dear friends to the north in Canada, they have been forced to truck and helicopter in snow to Whistler for the Olympics. Can you smell the bacon burning on that one? So much for reducing our carbon footprint.

Oh well. I guess that will be the last time anyone tries to put on any Winter Olympics in a maritime climate zone.

So, all you folks out there still slogging through snow, I feel for you. It probably doesn't make it better but it makes me feel less guilty.

Instead of tossing out pointless platitudes, I am going to share my Camelia which does usually bloom in late winter or very early Spring around here but never so gloriously until now.

You know, some things take patience and this Camelia is one of them. I have had this baby for years, forgotten how many, perhaps 5. Bought it in a 1 gallon pot with 1 bloom on it that was so heavy it bent the whole thing down Charlie Brown Christmas Tree style.

But look at it now! I have planted it up against a south facing wall of the house that is somewhat protected. And, because I have loved it and actively NOT killed it, it is rewarding me with the boldest, pinkiest display of its life. Count them! Hard to. Lots of blossoms.

So, I have now decided I don't really mind getting older if I can see slow to medium growing stuff mature and bestow their gifts. And, its a damn good thing too. There is always another birthday around the corner!

That time of year. Spring? No IEP meetings.

Shea is almost 6. This post is not about his birthday although we will be thinking of that quite soon.

6 is when the public schools crunch each kid with an IEP through all the developmental tests again plus reading, writing and math. They did the whole gambit of testing when he was three and now they will do it again for 6. Boy. Have we learned a thing or two since then.

Every year there is a mandatory IEP meeting near your child's birthday. Incidentally, a parent can request an IEP meeting whenever they want. Anytime you feel you need to share something important with your child's team, you can request a meeting.

But this year it is different. He is 6!

This morning we had the 1st of 3 meetings that will all happen within the next 6 weeks. It was the "intake" meeting asking us what we wanted to focus on, etc. General impressions, comments.

The 2nd will be after all the battery of tests are done and they will go over all the results. That was the one 3 years ago, where they pointed to a chart to show that Shea landed "less than average intelligence" for one of the test. Ugh.

The 3rd will be the IEP meeting that formally puts into writing everything we've decided.

Whew... Epic. No wonder they only do it every 3 years.

It was a lively meeting and several thoughts popped into my brain to share.

Like scheduling. They keep on suggesting 8:00 AM for these meetings! But Shea doesn't go to school until 9:00. So, how are both parents supposed to go to the meeting? The theory being that for teachers to be involved it has to be before school.

I think we all remember the main lesson I got out of doing this whole thing when Shea was 3. Never go to the meetings alone!

So, I gently insisted that 8:00 AM meeting isn't going to work. I suggested maybe it wasn't that important to have the teacher in the room with us at the same time as long as his case worker was there.

Sure enough. We worked around it. The teachers met early and then Shea's case worker and the psychologist met both Jake and I at 9:00.

But now they want to do the 2nd meeting at 8:00 again! Sorry, same answer. How many times do I have to explain this? I guess I don't blame them for asking but "hello?".

I did offer to do it after school and have Molly watch Shea. They probably won't like that but I don't really care! They can figure it out.

Another weird thing, sort of good I guess, that came up is the Kindergarten teacher thinks Shea may be ready for 1st grade next year.

Just as a reminder: the plan was to do another round of full day Kindergarten next year. This year was just a try-out and I was relieved to know that he was going to get another year to work on expressive language and social stuff, etc.

But now they say that there may not be full day Kindergarten next year. So they are sort of encouraging us to think about that but I have mixed feelings.

On one hand I am happy that Shea appears to be at grade level for academics and that the teacher sees him that way. Although all this upcoming testing will really help determine if he really is.

Yet his social skills and some behavioral stuff continue to come into play regularly. I am nervous about sending him off where so much more is going to be expected of him. Worried that he won't be able to succeed, that he will get lost in the shuffle

And, there lies my other concern, maybe I am the one that is holding him back. Maybe we need to push him a bit more, set the bar higher. I mean, so far it has worked out well this year.

Earlier than expected he could be part of the multi-age 1, 2, 3rd program that Molly went through. I know all the teachers. I love the program; it is very flexible and creative. Simply wonderful, in fact. I know the exact teacher. He would be hanging with the big kids and emulating up.

So, we are chewing on big things tonight and for the next few weeks. But I don't have to make it alone. I immediately sent off the news to his OT, SLP for comment with good observations and excellent points coming in as I write.

Oh, and another thing; the teachers say he raises his hand repeatedly in class to answer questions!

Close calls

It never fails to amaze me how a split second can and does change everything. One minute you are trotting along happily through life and BOOM! something happens to make it all different. Everything changes; sometimes just for a moment, sometimes for the rest of your days.

The human body is a frail thing; soft mushy tissue, delicate bones, flimsy muscles. Really no match for much of what life tosses at us. Luck is the trump card we hold close to the vest, jealously guarding it for just when you might need it most.

If you are lucky, which apparently I am, you get a strong stiff whiff of "what if?" and can try to resume your regularly scheduled existence.

It happened just like that over the weekend.

The kids and I were out and about on rainy, drippy typical Saturday in the NW. Popped into the tea shop for some refreshment and even enjoyed it. The kids didn't bicker much, Molly ran into one of her pals. Shea had a new little car to drive around the tabletop. All was right with the world.

After that we went to our favorite book store whose praises have been sung on my blog before.

Congratulations were in order as they may be one of the only small businesses in America doing so well they are able to expand their space during this blasted recession. The unveiling was close. The new room was painted with new wooden bookshelves lining the walls just waiting for the books that would soon fill them.

Kids being kids were farting around on the floor, rolling like puppies and actually not being too obnoxious. I poked around looking for something to leap out at me from the shelves and yell, "Read me!"

When I heard one of the nearby father's say, "Hey! Hey! HEY!!!!!" I looked up and one of the bookcases was not secured to the wall and was tipping forward and was heading for Shea. He was in the direct path and I could see one of the shelves headed straight for the base of Shea's scull.

The father who yelled and I raced across the room and caught the shelf with only about a second or two to spare. I really don't even know how long it took as time seemed to go into slow motion.

Shea was oblivious, he hadn't seen what was coming. Most of the other shoppers were oblivious too.

The father and I just looked at each other quite dazed. I thanked him as I was trying to get my breathing back to normal. My heart was beating fast as I tried to recover from the extra large squirt of adrenalin.

All I could do was herd by brood out of the store still visably shaken with a pounding heart. The image of that bookcase coming down on Shea is etched in my memory and will be there for a long time.

Then the "What ifs?" started rolling. If we hadn't gotten there in time. If that father hadn't been there to help me. If that bookcase squarely fell on Shea's head. If the local EMTs would've been able to handle it. If we would have been helicopter lifted to the city. If we would have spent the weekend, week, month at the hospital. If, if, if. The horrific possibilities are still swirling around my head.

When life slips you a free card like that, it is wise to acknowledge it. I did and do. I am quite aware of how close that was and how we squeaked through.

May we all be so lucky next time.

Blog guilt defined

Noun; the act of deep remorse for not updating your blog more often due to life, taxes, clients and epic middle school ancient Egypt projects.

Grows quickly and exponentially and will soon end up bigger than a bread box.

The only known antidote is to stop the bleeding! Sit down and start writing, for goodness sake!

Early diagnosis is helpful but doesn't necessarily shorten the duration.

Healthy sprinkling of condolences and/or apologies often greeted with quizzical expression. Only the afflicted appears to be in discomfort.

Do the Dems have the Balls to get the people's work done?

If it was only as easy as opening up a bottle!

On keeping the communication flowing....

I haven't heard a peep from the teachers since the fall conference where we were told (again) that he was having a tough time at Kindergarten recess. You know, the one with 50+ running and screaming all over the place. It seems he gets a little over excited. (really?) and can't keep him hands to himself.

But I hadn't heard anything so I sent this e-mail to prompt an update.

"Hi there, Could I just get a brief update on how Shea is doing out at recess? Is he still hitting and terrorizing the others kids when he is getting over excited? Or have things mellowed some? Please let me know so we can help reinforce the appropriate play behavior when we talk about it at home. Thanks so much!"

Sent mid-day, I had not gotten a reply by the time I picked him up at school for OT. "Hi mom!" he says and promptly bursts into tears. This never happens. This is not at all normal. I try to get him to tell me what is up. All he can really spit out is that his pal keeps on calling him "Dude" which has been their game for about 2 years now.

I asked him if he had fun at recess and he told me he had to sit out. Uh oh...

I get this e-mail from Kindergarten teacher with an add on from the aide the next day in response:

"Thanks for your email. As I am not at recess with Shea, I forwarded your email to J ...the following is her reply. Hope this information helps...thanks for continued support at home."
"Shea is still requiring frequent prompts about not grabbing other students. This applies to both recess and line behavior. Shea seems to have relatively lengthy stretches of time (4-7 days) where his behavior on the playground is mostly age appropriate punctuated by several days of difficult behavior. He requires frequent time outs on those days. I have been asking students to use deliberate "stop (fill in the blank with the unwanted behavior)" when Shea is getting too grabby. Shea then is prompted to apologize. He is compliant. In comparison to the beginning of the year, Shea is on a positive behavioral track but, again, still needs frequent reminders about keeping his hands and body to himself, both in line and at recess. We continue to work on this behavior."

Shit!

I reply:

"Thanks, you guys. I am not sure how or if we can do this but I think it would be helpful for us to know when his tough time is occurring so that he will loose privileges at home if it continues. Would it be possible to just get a quick e-mail when he is getting in trouble so that we can talk about it at home with him sooner rather than later? Obviously he is not telling us about any of this. Sorry to add more work but I think that would help because we do not know when it is happening, he is thinking he can get away with it. Let me know if that is possible. Also, yesterday when I picked him up for OT, he burst into tears. Which is so rare that it has NEVER happened before. I couldn't really get a straight answer but something about X calling him "Dude" which has been their running joke for 2 years and hardly an insult or teasing. Still not sure what happened. I asked him if he had a good recess and he said that he sat out. I was always pretty nervous of that recess time, knowing it was going to be a bit too much for him. If it really isn't working out and significant progress isn't being made, I guess I would rather try something else for the 2nd half of the year. Thanks for all you do."

Then I got a better e-mail from his IEP case manager:

"So, a new plan is for me to email you every couple days/week to let you know "how it's going" on the playground. Just a reminder that this "grabby" behavior is never considered to be malicious. He really gets so excited! He is able to tell J what he "did" every single time. Reinforcing the preventative strategies have helped. As agreed, if we are able to catch him as he is winding up...Jennifer intervenes and practices the steps towards "reorganizing". He and I practice facial cues." Show me a happy face." "This is a grumpy face. If your friend shows you this, do you think he likes what you are doing?" He has made significant improvement as compared to this time last year, and even as compared to the beginning of the school year. He leaves the playground appropriately when recess is over and listens to redirection and complies with time out requests. As you suggested, the toys in his pockets help him reorganize when he does have to sit for a few minutes. There are usually one or two little Kindergarten buddies needing to sit and reorganize at recess for a few minutes. The frequency of these instances for him as Jennifer are sporadic, cyclical and decreasing in intensity. Shannon reports incidences during preschool recess as much more rare. I was absent yesterday, but X, Shea and I can try to figure out what is going on with the "dude" game."

Now, that sounds better. And, in which I respond:

"Thank you so much, K! I am glad that you guys have a strategy and he seems to be responding and improving. I am also relieved to know that he isn't necessarily the only kid who has to sit out sometimes. Whew... But please let me know if you feel home reinforcement would benefit. A little talk about not getting to play his DS because he was naughty is incredibly powerful with him. So, feel free to use that stick or cue me! Thanks again for all your quick responses. All in all, I think it is going really well. I just feel sort of out of the loop."

Sometimes its hard to push for the information you want and it can be intimidating at times. But just keep at it. Know your rights. Know your kid's rights. Be an advocate.

If you inquire with tact, kindness and genuine appreciation, they will (usually) respond accordingly.

Also, it is not a bad idea to do the Special Ed correspondence in e-mail. Not only for the reason that you can quickly make it into a blog post but you have documentation and you can sound a little less emotional. The worst encounters I have ever had was when I was talking directly on the phone with the teacher. Some things I never would have written slipped out, never to be retrieved again. And, in a system that documents everything in the IEP form, having it all out in writing with a date on it, is mighty good.

But keep your cool folks. Let's remember MOST of the people who work with kids with special needs are wonderful, caring people who are doing this job for the best of reasons. Be extremely taciturn about escalating because these folks have your kid under their thumb on a daily basis. If you feel that you might have too much of an edge to your correspondence - STOP - pull back. Either send it to a calm friend to proof read and/or sleep on it. Sometimes after I have slept on it and re-read it, I can barely believe it was me that wrote it!

Is my kid special enough?

I was interviewing this very nice guy today. The Director of The Father's Network, a support network developed at the University of Washington 30 years ago, now the national model for bringing dads of kids with special needs together and making some very profound, positive benefits for their families.

If you haven't checked them out, you should, and can right here.

He was so awesome and knowledgeable and had been part of the development of the program from the beginning. He has his PhD in Special Education then moved to administration and was a principal for years. I mean the guy was just a treasure trove of experience and sane thoughts. And, yes, he is also a father of a son with disabilities.

Anyway, after all of my somewhat pedantic questions which he very graciously answered, he asked me a little about myself.

So, I launch into my short version. My son Shea, severe speech delay, Apraxia, blah, blah. I told him about the early intervention and the developmental preschool and that he really is doing great but it is and will continue to be a long road and it is sometimes really hard.

He said, "You know, there are many studies that show that parents of high functioning or border lines kids with special needs have an even higher stress level than parents of kids with severe needs because their needs are not as obvious, there seems to be less understanding from peers and the parents are constantly teetering on the differences between their child and typically developing peers."

Wow. I was sort of stunned. But, then a huge wave of validation washed over me and I have been thinking about what he said ever since.

On this journey of reaching out to other parents of kids with special needs, I have felt almost shy and awkward talking about my son's needs. Sort of like, "What am I complaining about? There are so many other kids who have much more dire needs." I felt I was sniveling, that Shea was not "special enough" and I should just feel glad and thankful that he is as high functioning as he is.

I felt guilt, in fact, that this pain and worry I have that just won't go away was somewhat unseemly because there are so many others who must be hurting more.

And, yes, there are many, many others who are having a harder time than Shea. My heart bleeds for them. And, for those parents.

But, my boy has a tough time talking. He may not look "special" but as soon as he opens his mouth everybody knows he is. And, even as we work hard toward acceptance, I guess it will always hurt.

I talk to my GGFs wondering aloud if Shea is a "lifer". Will he be with us forever? Will he be able to move out, go to college, have a lover, find and keep a job? No one knows and certainly no one will speculate.

So, that is the limbo we live under and probably will for some time. That is the added stress that wonderful Mr. Father's Network spoke of and validated for me today.

And, to think all this time, I thought I was just being a selfish shit.

Huh. Go figure.

God, help those poor people...

My thoughts are prayers to Haiti for the fallen and those who are digging out. And, to all who are there in mind, spirit, in reality or those who were just able to send a few bucks.

Such devastation is hard to imagine.

Update on perfectionism

Well, as many of you probably predicted, my middle schooler came home from school on Monday with the exact opposite of mood then when she left. She dragged herself out and bounced her way in.

Meaning: she was no longer bleak and wimpy.

What happened to change the dynamic so drastically?

She talked with her teacher. Eureka!

You know, it really is amazing what happens when you open your mouth and communicate. People listen, begin to understand and changes can take place.

We are all about communication in this house, as freely and as unencumbered as possible. Within reason, of course!

She went to her band teacher, first thing, and asked if she could play the song for the quiz in private. I wish I was a fly on the wall to see how she looked: down cast, uncharacteristically glum, scared poop-less probably.

He said, (insert suspenseful music here - Dun-Dun-Dun!) "Of course, come in tomorrow morning before home room."

Wow! After all that! How anticlimactic! But, extremely illustrative to how we all build up so much manufactured anxiety when it really is no big deal. You know, like a mountain out of a mole hill?

I suppose these sorts of encounters need to happen because I am sure I would get the requisite eye ball roll if I regaled her about that mountain or that mole hill myself.

Some things you just have to go through.

I asked her how everyone else did on the quiz. I have to document this here because she only admits I was right fairly infrequently.

She said, "Mom, you were right. A bunch of other kids forgot about the quiz until Sunday night and had to scramble like me. And, one kid," (complete with blushes because it is the boy she likes) completely forgot and didn't realize there was a quiz until he walked into the band room!"

Ahh...sweet retribution.

So, she practiced the quiz song a good long while on Monday night and ended up getting 19 out of 20 the next morning.

Tragedy averted...until the next time.