Monday, October 14, 2013

Two Week Check-In

Well, two weeks down, seven more to go until we move back to the US. Wow. Well, seven more school weeks; we have a vacation in there too.

The new schedule is working really well. Really, really well.

We're rather unconventional in that we stay up late, the kids go to bed at the same time as the grown-ups, and we let them sleep until they wake up. As such, the oldest boy gets started with his classes around 11 every day, and works until whenever he's done, often six-ish or so. He likes this plan.

I didn't think he would. I thought he'd balk at not having any free time between the end of school and his dad getting home from work. I was wrong. He much prefers this to starting school the minute he wakes up. Fine by me; he works hard, gets his stuff done, and is succeeding in his classes thus far. One of the biggest reasons we homeschool, and why we chose this online program over others, is for the flexibility, so I consider this a win-win.

He starts off with Algebra II, which is going remarkably well thus far. There's a bit of review of Algebra I, which he's doing pretty good with, and so far the new curriculum is fantastic. I'll do a review on that once we're a bit farther in; as he's only finished one week of Algebra II thus far, I feel it's still to early to give the glowing report I'd like to at this point.

After Algebra II, the most revolutionary thing --- Chemistry via Skype. My husband The Chemist calls The Writer and they video-chat over the reading for that day. The Chemist answers any questions and uses an online, interactive white board app on his iPad to write examples and things. Then they go through the homework assignments together; The Writer gives his answers and if he's wrong, The Chemist helps him find the right answer. If he's correct the first time, great! The Writer takes all quizzes on his own, and they do labs in the evenings & on weekends. I am so so so grateful I'm married to a scientist; I cannot imagine trying to do Chemistry completely and utterly alone at home.  The Chemist uses his lunch hour at work to do this, so it's on "his time" not work's, and he enjoys it so much he's thinking of teaching all the boys science in this manner.

After Chemistry and lunch, everyone else gets started and the day goes along relatively smoothly, much like any other homeschool around the world. I work with The Adventurer immediately after lunch, and then he has quite a bit of free time between when he finishes and when his brother's finish. As such I'm introducing a new tweak today --- scheduled breaks for both The Adventurer & The Artist, where they will stop and play a quick board game, stop and walk the dogs, stop and do art, etc. The Writer can break with them if he wants to, though it will slow his day down considerably if he does. I think and hope that the breaks will help The Adventurer to feel like he's not just left alone all afternoon to wallow in boredom. We shall see.

If you have a younger child who relies on older siblings to be his playmate, how do you help him fill the hours that the siblings are otherwise occupied? I'm open to any & all ideas! 

Friday, September 20, 2013

Already changing the schedule.....

Much discussion ensued at my house yesterday, as I prepped the schedule pages for the kids.

A certain teen is really bemoaning the fact I want him to get up early, and says he much prefers to start later even if it means ending later as well. Compromise has been reached in that he will not have to start school until 11, but then will have to work until 6 or 7; if  he is not finishing school by the time The Chemist gets home from work, we will begin having him start earlier. He claims that he only needs a 30 minute break to eat lunch, as he prefers to walk the dogs in the afternoon when he's done. And he is pretty sure he won't need a full hour per subject as I had envisioned.  We shall see......

The Chemist is going to, fittingly, help The Writer with chemistry during the day; he's even found an on-line white board that can be used so that he (the Chemist) can draw equations and notes so our son will hopefully understand a bit better. Put with Skype calls, this should be a huge help, and is something they can do even when The Chemist has to travel for work. I'm so glad I married a scientist.

The Adventurer and The Artist then will also start later, but meals and snacks will stay at their given times; The Adventurer requires frequent feeding or he gets cranky. And by cranky I mean downright unmanageable. Not fun.

I discovered I can drop a few of the therapy items from his rotation, too. We did some work on sequencing yesterday, just for the fun of it, and he put every set of cards in order in record time, even building double sets from similar-themed cards. For example, one set showed a woman knitting a scarf. Another set showed the same woman knitting a cap. He first assembled each set on its own, then turned them into one long string, wherein the woman first knit the cap, then the scarf. I think we've got sequencing down well enough to drop it from our work.

I plan to spend some time next week printing up worksheets and puzzles for him, so that I'm ready. He needs to do hidden pictures, word finds, code games, pattern games, and the like, but those require printing. Which I stink at, printing the day of. So I thought I'd print a few weeks' worth all at once, and have them on hand.

I did threaten the boys that if they can't get along, we definitely can start school early. They're meant to have off until October 1st, but yesterday was a grouchy day, due to boredom levels. School would be a perfect remedy there.....

What does your school year look like? Anything new on the horizon?

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Back from Vacation --- Plans for 2013/2014 School Year

Yikes, what a long break! I didn't mean to neglect this blog for so long, so if anyone is still reading -- thank you!  We had a family trip to the US over August, and now are busy preparing for our move back to Texas this December, but meanwhile, school still has to happen. For that to work, I need plans. More scheduled plans than usual, because there's too much to juggle in my usual "it happens when it happens" method.

My youngest needs a predictable routine, and I'm finally admitting that and trying to work that into our day-to-day life. I didn't attempt it before our visit to the US -- no sense starting a routine that would just be disrupted the minute we stepped on the plane. But now, a new school year, and an upcoming move, having a familiar routine in place well before then -- one we can maintain in our own new home -- will be key to helping him adjust to the changes going on around him.

For most of our family, this move is a move "back home."  For him, who came to Brazil as a 2 year old, this is a move to a foreign country, even if it is one we've visited often. He told me this last trip, more than once, "I think I am more from Brazil than I am from Texas/The United States." Of course he's my most change-resistant child anyway, so this move should be lovely.

Sorry, getting sidetracked there....where was I going? Oh yes, schedule. Plans. Routine. With The Writer entering 10th grade, and after a 9th grade year that was slow going, he needs a more set schedule to stay on pace. Ditto that for The Artist, who is entering 7th grade this year. And as mentioned, The Adventurer needs the routine for stability. So, a schedule.

I decided to mimic a public school, with periods. Time slots. Start at this time, do this subject, then do this, then this, then that, until finished. My older boys will still have some freedom within that framework; they can move right from one subject to the next, or they can take little breaks in between as needed, but anything not finished within the hour-long "period" for each subject will be "homework" to be finished after-hours or on the weekend. No more saving hard projects for later.

Luckily for me, their on-line school is implementing a new tool to help with just that; lessons will only be unlocked in consecutive order, the next one available when the previous is turned in & graded. Two will be open at a time, so that the student can work on the second while the first is graded, but no  more than that. This will be a huge help, and hopefully alleviate the one flaw we felt with their system.

Here's what their schedules will look like, then:

10th Grade/The Writer --
9 a.m. -- breakfast
9:30 a.m. -- 1st period/Algebra II
10:30 a.m. -- 2nd period/World History
11:30 a.m. -- 3rd period/Music History
12:30 p.m. -- lunch/Chemistry help
1:30 p.m. -- 4th period/Spanish I
2:30 p.m. -- 5th period/Psychology
3:30 p.m. -- 6th period/English II

He may have to use extra time for Chemistry; we're not sure yet how that is going to work out. My husband The Chemist is going to help him with this, hopefully over lunch, but I'm not sure how it will play out. He might have to do book work ahead of that Skype session, or he might then have homework to do in the evenings, I'm not sure. English is scheduled last so that he has plenty of time to do whatever written work is required.

7th Grade/The Artist --
9 a.m. -- breakfast
9:30 a.m. -- free time on the computer
10:30 a.m. -- 1st period/Pre-Algebra
11:30 a.m. -- 2nd period/History
12:30 p.m. -- lunch
1:30 p.m. -- 3rd period/English
2:30 p.m. -- 4th period/Science
3:30 p.m. -- art/projects/free time

His schedule is a bit lighter since he's not in high school yet; his art class is a home course (Artistic Pursuits), and Pre-Algebra is Teaching Textbooks; the rest are on-line with Texas Tech University ISD.

2nd Grade/The Adventurer --

After much debate, we're calling this 2nd grade although he is 8.5 years old and could be considered 3rd grade. With his delays, and state laws in Texas that allow us to delay his Kindergarten start until age 6, and a firm belief I would have done so (in fact, I did do so in our home school), this is where he is.

His routine will look like this:
10:30 --Writing Road to Reading -- 1 lesson per day
 11:00 -- Therapy Block -- alternate activities, 2 activities per day (approximately 15 minutes)
11:15 -- Handwriting Without Tears -- half a lesson per day, in the Kindergarten book, + sight word review
11:30 -- Game Time -- he will choose one board game from a designated selection, as a mental break/recess
12:30 -- lunch
1:30 -- History -- one chapter, more or less, per day; studying an overview of American & Texas history
2:00 -- Math -- one lesson per day from Singapore Math 2
2:30 -- Earobics & Edmark -- phonics/reading therapy software, one session of each per day
3:00 -- Activity & Science -- he can choose a hands-on activity, from a pre-set selection, and I will read Science to him
3:30 -- story telling -- he'll tell me a story, using story starters, that I will type, he will illustrate, and we will read together throughout the week; aiming for one story/week

Times on his schedule are best-guesses; things may or may not take this long, but breaks are built in so what looks like a long day, isn't really. Mostly the guide is "what comes next" which is the part we'll follow and stick with.

Going to be a busy year! We're scheduled to start October 1st......wish me luck!

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Getting Some Help

Things with The Adventurer have hit a bit of a wall, and I'm turning outside our home for some help.

While we got a very detailed report a year ago, as part of his initial evaluation, the tips and suggestions were, are, so many and so varied that I find myself overwhelmed with what to do, when.

The short list  of what needs to be worked on includes Working Memory, Processing Speed, Phonemic Awareness and Visual-Motor Coordination.  Unfortunately, that breaks down to a very long list of specific tasks, and I find myself letting slide the more "minor" aspects.  Which is not good, because all of those "minor" aspects are actually key components to his ability to really learn to read. Sigh.

So, outside help.  An on-line friend has just launched a business to look over data supplied by the family and help come up with a plan of action for teaching the student.  Basically, she takes the big goal, "Teach Child to Read" and breaks it into smaller, manageable goals for you, and then suggests activities, links, materials, etc. to help you get there. I've sent off a summary report to her, will schedule the payment and then she'll schedule a phone consult with me to make sure she understands what are current struggle is, and where we want to go.

I cannot wait. As I was summarizing things for her, I realized just how much I've let slip through the cracks. All those little bitty therapy type activities.......set aside. Oops.

Meanwhile, The Adventurer continues to make completely random progress, which is honestly the most mind boggling and overwhelming aspect of teaching him, at least to me. Since he was evaluated in August 2012, he's gained 7 letter sounds, bringing his total to 18 letters for which he knows the sounds (some of those have more than one sound). He still stumbles over some of the same exact ones he's been stumbling over, which is not the most encouraging thing. The letter f, for example, we've been reviewing for years.

At the same time, though, he has learned how to segment words into sounds, has learned to recognize a vowel sound when in the middle of a word, and has learned how to decode a series of three letters into the three sounds represented and thus read the word, so long as it's made up of letters/sounds he knows. Which is all huge, and super encouraging.

This non-linear progress is present in math, too, wherein he can divide and multiply (not on paper, but in his head, he can tell you if we have 12 or 15 donuts, how many that means each person in our family gets to eat).  At the same time, subtraction drives him batty. Non-linear learning. Fun stuff. Very challenging for me, and I am really hoping my friend has some great ideas to work around that.

What's the point of this post, then....?  Well, to not be afraid to get outside help when you need it. Don't feel you have to do this all alone; whether it's outsourcing higher level maths & sciences, or seeking advice on helping a student with learning disabilities, or even just hiring an artist friend to do art lessons, or a music teacher for music lessons.  If there's anything you aren't comfortable teaching, get some help. I know I am.

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Motivation, and lack thereof....

Okay, friends, I need your help.  Best tricks for motivating an older student????

My oldest, The Writer (15/9th grade) is a wonderful student. Very self-driven, a bit of a perfectionist, works hard, does well, really a dream student.

Except for art. Which he's required to take, more or less. The state of Texas, in which we do not reside but will soon(ish) be moving to, requires one year of a Fine Arts credit for all high school students. Faced with that, he chose between Art, Drama or Music, and landed on Art.

His perfectionist tendencies collide with the course requirements, such that most projects take him a bit longer than they should, which in turn completely zaps all motivation for working on the projects.

Case in point: a multi-step project which has been "in progress" for roughly a month now; he's on the final step, with a small fraction left to go, and there it sits, unworked on, day after day after day.

In all his other classes, he's motivated. A self-starter. Diligent. Really a model student.

Just not with art.

The work he does turn out? It's pretty good. Not art scholarship good, but not bad, either. So it's not a quality thing, just a "how do I get this kid moving" thing.

Which brings me back to the question --- best tips for motivating an unmotivated older kid?

How have you dealt with this in your home school? Or even in other tasks, if you are not a homeschooler?

I'd love any suggestions you might have!

Thursday, May 16, 2013

One Week Later.....


We took him for pizza to celebrate. I still get happy tears when I watch this...yes, we've a long way yet to go, but look how far we've come already. Wow.

Sorry the quality is bad; I had to shrink it to get it to upload. You'll want your speakers on full blast, as his voice is soft.

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Seven Words

Hope. Excitement. Encouraging. Fear. Worry. Cautious joy.

Those are the seven words I'm feeling right now, because of these seven words:  cat, bat, rat, mat, sat, hat, pat.

My Adventurer read those seven words to me today. He didn't realize that's what he was doing, but he did it.

We reviewed letter sounds first. He again, still, said that the letter h makes the sound /j/, and that the letter d makes the sound /p/ or else /b/ or maybe /g/ as in girl. And that the letter l makes the sound /j/, except, no, wait, it makes /l/ as in lollipop.

He noticed, apparently for the first time for him, that both g and j make the sound /j/.

He spent a few moments after each letter repeating the sound over and over again, just to cement it in his mind before we moved on to the next letter.

Because he was doing so very well, I decided to try something. To show him that just as he can point to or touch individual tokens, or tap out the separate sounds of a word (such as pointer finger, middle finger, ring finger, each tapping the table in turn as you say the separate sounds of the word "cat" -- /c/ - /a/ - /t/), so too we could point to letters as we said the sounds.

We (I) laid out all the letter tiles, in order, a to z. Then I pulled down b, a, t. On purpose, because he has those letter sounds down pat, and because it would allow me to swap just that beginning letter and make lots of new words.

No sooner did I put b-a-t in front of him did he say, "/b/-/a/-/t/; /bat/"

"Yes! exactly!" I said. "And look, if we swap the b for a c, now what?"

"/cat/. Duh...."

Right! Now what?, I asked, as I swapped the c for an m.

Mat, dummy.

Exactly!

And so it went, all the way through all seven words, me swapping out just the one letter, correcting him for calling me names, him calling out the word almost before I moved my finger away from it.

I asked him, at the end, "Do you know what you just did? You read. Seven whole words. You read them!"

I forgot that he absolutely detests praise, particularly for things he is self conscious about.

He declared he didn't really do it; I told him the sounds. He argued that it was supposed to be impossible to teach him how to read. He defiantly protested that he didn't do anything, I told him the answer; and that all I did was tell him the sound, he could have, did, figure it out on his own and he didn't need me. He boasted he could have done it blindfolded, without my help. He spewed anger as he said if he did, in fact, read, then he already knew how and always had. That he didn't need me. And that it was impossible to teach him how to read.

Round and round in circles his protests chased one another, from pride & joy in his success, to embarrassment over the fact we were cheering such a seemingly small thing, to insecurity as he wondered if it was a valid success, since I did prompt him with the sounds of some of the initial letters, to fear over whether he really had done it, and whether it would still be easy tomorrow or if it would keep getting harder, back to wanting to feel joy for reading, and unsure if it counted, since I helped.

No, he didn't say any of that. He ranted and protested and down played and belittled, his usual defense mechanism when something like this happens. So I let him rant, and quietly said I as proud of him, and we moved on to math, and I moved on to the other seven words.

Hopeful. Excited. Encouraged. Fearful. Worried. Cautiously  joyful.

And these: Careful to let him see only the hope and joy and excitement; careful to only encourage. Today, he read seven words, and I will celebrate that, holding at bay the worry and fear over whether or not he'll still be able to read those same words tomorrow.

He read. Seven whole words. And I could not be more proud.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

A Peek on the Inside

This is a little peek at what I think goes on in the head of my Adventurer when he's doing school with me, based on actual quotes he's made over the time we've been doing this. 

Bottom line is, learning frustrates him. He's not lazy. He's not a quitter. He's not impatient or inattentive; learning is hard. Scratch that, learning is HARD for him. And he gets frustrated, because he knows enough to realize that he doesn't know all the things a kid his age usually knows. And because, he wants to know.

That last bit, that's important. Sometimes, people on the outside think that a kid with learning challenges could get it, would make faster progress, "if he really wanted to....."  That if you gave him some kind of motivator or reward system or something, he'd do better. That he quits because he just doesn't want to do it.

I am here to tell you, through quotes from my son, that is not the case. He wants to learn. Desperately. But it is exhausting, and so he can only manage it in small bits at a time.  Allow me one example, and I think you'll see what I mean.

It was actually a frustrating day for me, because I pulled out an aid that I thought would help, and instead, it just aggravated things.

As part of the evaluation we initially had done, the EduPsych wrote up a thorough report complete with suggestions for curriculum, what aids we should use for him, what assistive technologies, etc. One of those things was a calculator; specifically one that displays the entire problem (so he can see he's typed it in correctly). 

I hadn't been using it yet, because he was doing okay with math. His math skills are....ummm, interesting. He grasps some things that seem advanced, while at the same time he struggles with things that seem really basic. So we use a lot of manipulatives, such as Cuisenaire Rods, a 100s chart, a simple abacus, counting bears or other counting tokens -- anything you can think of. And they help. A lot.

Until they didn't, and I pulled out the calculator.

We were staring at a page of adding with regrouping. That's the new term for carrying, where you take 16 + 8 and realize that 16 + 4 would make 20, and that 8 is made up of two 4s, so 16 + 8 is 24. It makes more sense when you see drawings of little objects and some circled and some not.

Except, The Adventurer was not getting it. So, the calculator. Which showed him the answer, but did not help the frustration, and is when he said the thing that proves to me that he wants to learn:  "But I don't get it! That doesn't make sense, because 4 is less than 8. It should get bigger!" 

I tried to explain. We counted up, together, from 16 to 24. With no visual, this didn't really help. Being able to count, for him, is a little like being able to recite the ABC song without putting the names together with what the letters look like. So, I switched gears.  I got out the cuisenaire rods. If you aren't familiar, these are little blocks that increase in size in regular increments. So the "one block" is half the size of the "two block" and the two block is half the size of the four block, and a 2 block + a 1 block = the size of a 3 block, and so forth and so on.

I laid out a 10 rod. Below that, a 6 rod. I showed The Adventurer, see, we have 16 to start with.

Then I counted out 8 one rods. I showed him, "Now we are going to add 8 to it."  Starting from the right hand side, beneath the empty space next to the 6-rod, I began laying out, one by one, the 8 one-rods, until all 8 were there. I showed him how, if we just slid these 4 one-rods up into the empty space next to the 6-rod, we'd have another 10, so instead of 16, we now had 20. And below that, we had 4 left over from the 8, and so we had 24.

He agreed with me all the way through, until having four left, when he said, "But we added 8. We should have 28." 

I reminded him that we used part of the 8 to make the 16 into a 20. He did not, does not, get it. And it frustrates him.

I suggested we go back to the calculator; we did. Same thing, problem after problem. What's 27 + 6?  He types it in, sees 33 and says, "But I don't get it! That doesn't make sense! How does the 2 turn into a 3??" So we count up. We use the rods. He remains perplexed, confused, and frustrated.

Because having the answer is not enough for him; he wants to understand why that is the answer. He wants to learn. Learning is hard. He gets frustrated. He, or I, put things away and move on, because a frustrated boy is not a good learner. I know that we will have lots and lots of days and weeks and months and years for him to master this new concept. He wants to learn, and that motivation will carry him through the days and weeks and months and maybe even years of frustration that lie before him.

He might sometimes stop in frustration on a given day and refuse to do math anymore at that moment. Because learning is HARD, and HARD is exhausting. He might shout at me, "Why do I have to do school?! This is dumb! I won't learn it anyway, I'll just forget!!"  I don't take it personally, because I know it comes from a place deep inside that hurts when, where other kids celebrate small victories, or take learning for granted, he suffers defeat, daily, as he tries to understand these seemingly simple things.

That might seem like quitting, but it's not. Because he returns to math the next day, and the next, and the next, facing those frustrations over and over and over and over again, because his motivation is bigger than the hardness of it all: He wants to learn.

He wants to learn. Challenges and all, he wants to learn. And though it tears him up inside when he struggles, when he feels like he can't learn, I will not let it tear him down. 

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

The Ups and Downs....

I had a very up & down day this week with The Adventurer. Teaching him, trying to teach him, is a huge challenge. Not surprising, given the list of ways that his brain struggles with processing new information. I've shared in earlier posts, but suffice it to say -- every way that the brain has of taking in & processing new information, is, in him, disrupted to some degree. Every single aspect of learning is affected. 

I've learned, recently, that I cannot look to where he "should" be. I realized as I plotted out course options for the boys and sat down to figure out what grade The Adventurer "should" be in, if he were in school, that he would be entering 3rd grade in the fall. That was a smack in the face, a punch in the gut, as I thought of all those lovely 3rd grade books he "should be" reading, by himself, almost by  now. And then thought of the up & down of the day we had yesterday, which is where he is. 

We were reviewing phonograms -- the sounds letters make. I pulled out the stack of cards, and the letter tiles, and an ABC Bingo card printed with all the letters of the alphabet, capital & lowercase paired together in the same square. He still struggles to remember that each letter, each sound, is represented by 2 variations of the same letter and struggles with remembering that L is the same as l, that H is the same as h, and which b, d, p, q goes with which B, D, P, Q. He is, however, beginning to remember most letter sounds, so we're working on that and using the capital/lower case BINGO sheet as a subtle cue on those pairings. 

To start, we laid out all the letter tiles, in alphabetical order. I pointed to each letter and he & I, together, said the name of each one. He can sing the song, but doesn't always remember when he sees a letter, what its name is. So we pointed and named, in order. Then we went back to the beginning and said the sounds for each one, again, as we pointed. 

When I got to e & f, we had one of those "ups" that are small & infrequent & thus extra cherished:  we pronounced /e/ (as in egg), and then /f/ (as in fox), and The Adventurer piped up, "/ef/!" That's the name of this one (pointed to the f), and that (pointed to e-f, together) is how you spell it!" "/ef/! just like the letter!"  

"Yes! Exactly, Adventurer! You are so right!! That does spell the name of this letter, because e says /e/, and f says /f/ and together, /ef/, makes the name of the f. So cool! Great job, noticing that!!" I was excited, to say the least. 

Then we continued on through the alphabet, giving the sound each letter makes, just as a quick review because mostly he knows all the sounds now. Mostly. 

Then I handed him the BINGO card, the idea being I would speak a letter sound, he would find the letter tile that represents the sound and place it on the appropriate square on the card. Given our breakthrough moments before, when we discussed the name & sound of  Ff in such detail, I started with that: /f/. 

He didn't know. He pointed to 2 different letters before declaring his frustration and I showed him the f tile, reminded him of our conversation and had him place it on the bingo board. 

He placed it on the Tt spot.  Which, granted, looks very similar to the Ff spot, so shouldn't surprise me (he never ever mistakes it when he is looking for T or t; that one he knows). 

I move on, deciding that I will casually call out the letter sounds that make a straight line, allowing him to quickly get a Bingo before one of us (most likely me) gets discouraged. There are more mistakes along the way, and I am glad I chose to take the short way out today. 

Later, he selects the letter tiles that spell his name. He knows how to write his name in capital letters, but still mixes up what lower case letters he needs. His name ends in an H, which he knows. He gets the first few letters right, then starts hunting for that last elusive H. He picks up a g and asks, "is this one H?"  I try not to sigh as I hand him the "h" to end his name. And then I cheer when he shows me he has spelled his name with the letter tiles, overlooking that he's also put the c in backwards, which he  never does when he writes it. I celebrate this small victory with him, and we move on to handwriting as I am just done with letter tiles for the day. 

These are the ups and downs we face each and every day. 

My mom-in-law reminded me, when we started, "remember, this is just like his very first year in school now, because you just now found out how to really help him" and I cling to that, daily, any time I start feeling sorry for myself about where he is compared to where he "should be."  

I remember what she said, and remind myself that he should be right where he is, and that he is right where he should be: home, learning with people who love him and cheer on his successes without belittling him for his mistakes.  Home, learning with people who work hard to understand and help him compensate for all the challenges he faces. Home, learning with people who make a point of remembering, as hard as this is for us, so much more so it is for him. Home, teaching the people who love him not to judge a person by his abilities, because the whole person is so very much more than that. 

Yes, my Adventurer is right where he should be: Home. Teaching, and learning from, people who love him. 

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Diet and meltdowns and tantrums, oh my!

We had a recent break through in the battle against meltdowns, which I want to share with you. First, some background....

The Adventurer has always been high strung, strong willed, etc. A well-meaning parent gave me a copy of James Dobson's book on raising strong willed children, and as I read this book, I wanted to laugh and throw the book across the room in anger, fear & disgust. There's something quite daunting about reading his example of this terribly over-the-top strong willed little toddler, the most extreme example he can think up, and realizing his example of extreme is your idea of a good day.

I've joked before about the fact (yes, fact) we let The Adventurer eat (carefully screened for any disgusting or harmful ingredients) dog treats as a toddler, but let me expound on that for a moment: as you sit,  horrified by that admission, please know that it takes a weary person to decide that a battle over dog treats is not a battle worth fighting.

We've all heard, "Pick your battles. Don't say NO unless it's a NO you know you can win/stand firm on." Well, see, when your child makes *everything* a battle, not only the "don't do that!"s but also the "you need to do this..."s, you cut what you can. The Adventurer was (is) the kind of strong willed back then that I let anything and everything go if it wasn't a safety issue for him or someone else. I rearranged the kitchen cabinets so that he could safely empty the lower cupboards while we did school. I banished all Big Kid Toys to the Big Kid Bedroom so I didn't have to police whether he was trying to eat Legos or Magnetix, because I was busy making sure he didn't climb the bookshelves or cabinets. I put away all permanent markers and bought only non-toxic washables, so that when he would inevitably draw on himself, it would wash off easily, and when he also inevitably chewed on the marker tip, it would not make him sick.

This all sounds like I was incredibly negligent; I wasn't. I can offer the testimony of the Early Childhood Intervention specialists who came every other week; they can attest to his strong will, and his well being during that time. Case in point: the speech therapist who was flummoxed because he made progress at every visit, but never ever ever on whatever word or phrase she had instructed me to work on. Seriously. At 2.5 years old, he dug in his heels and refused to voice any word we specifically tried to teach him. He was just that stubborn.

As such, when I did have to say No, I  made sure it was something I could be more stubborn about than he could. Thus, mostly safety issues. For a long time. Because anything else resulted in the type of tantrum that special needs moms know all too well, but outsiders can't really imagine -- the meltdown. The inconsolable, child has lost all control and can't stop himself even though he wants to, screaming, raging meltdown. Those have been a constant in our lives since he was old enough to exert his will in that manner.

A while ago I realized that these meltdowns are worse if or when he's hungry, and can be shut off by feeding him a single m & m, quickly followed by real food (preferably protein), once he's calm again. I started making an honest effort to feed him well timed snacks, in hopes that would help. It did, but not as much as I'd hoped.

By this time, of course, we've added other things to the list of "NOs" -- no longer just safety issues, but manners, how to be polite, how to treat people with respect, all of that. It's one thing when a child is 2; it's another when he's eight. With the NOs increasing, so have the meltdowns, and so I've been investigating and journaling and tracking and trying to figure out any additional outside causes, just in case.

With the food/hunger connection, I started thinking about blood sugar. Once I started thinking about that, I started tracking what he eats and how his mood is affected afterward. One glaring thing stood out above all else -- cereal turns him into a raving lunatic. For a solid week, every single meltdown he had was exactly 2 hours after eating a bowl of cereal. Every.single.one. For a week. I decided to limit cereal.

I tried just limiting it; it is the boys' one and only junk food treat here, is often a morning meal, and even more often an afternoon snack. For all the boys. So I tried letting The Adventurer have it, if he ate protein with it. Didn't work. Two hours after a bowl of cereal, tantrum of epic proportions. With protein, it was better -- only a meltdown if triggered by a situation he didn't like (without the protein, he'd go into a rage just almost for no reason; things like, "Get me some chocolate milk!!!" would turn into him screaming at you if you didn't answer or comply in exactly the way he wanted. Not cool.)

This was my much longed for outside trigger; my big breakthrough. Would it make a difference?

Yes. With the family's support, I have banned cereal. Completely. For everyone. And while of course The Adventurer still has bad moods, and even yes, the occasional meltdown when he does not get his way, things are better.

I also implemented a new, easy to follow through on, method of handling the meltdowns. If he hits us  (key meltdown behavior for him), we go to his room for 15 minutes. I carry him, kicking and screaming and grabbing at door jams to try not to go, and then I sit in his doorway, blocking his escape. I carry a timer with me, and as he cries and rages and the meltdown washes through him, he begs to get out. "When can I come out? Why can't I come out now?" and I just reply with however many minutes are left on the timer. I don't engage. I don't argue back. I don't try to stop the rage, I just let it play out.

Now, it's not pretty, but I noticed something else since we started this. I implemented this routine before pulling cereal from his diet, and here's the thing. On cereal, I sometimes had to extend his room time to 20 minutes to give him enough time to calm down. Never, in a cereal-induced meltdown, did he calm sooner than 12 minutes. Seriously.

Off cereal, he has not once raged longer than 10 minutes, and often as short as five minutes. We spend the remainder of the time chatting pleasantly, reading a book, talking, playing, whatever. I still have him stay in his room for 15 minutes, just in case. The time apart helps us both reset. But the cereal, or more importantly the absolute lack thereof, has made a phenomenal difference.

If you have a child who rages, for whatever reason, don't lose hope. Track his eating, sleeping, raging patterns for a while, just in case. Maybe there will be a diet change you can make, maybe not. I had never thought one single food could make a difference. He doesn't respond to other wheat products that way, at all. Nor other sugar products. He definitely does better when he starts with protein in the morning, but the simple removal (of granted, his favorite food outside spaghetti or pizza) has been a huge breakthrough, as has my new calm method of handling this.

I hope, if you struggle with this, you find something here that might help. If nothing else, know you aren't alone, and that it can and does get better.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Three Week Check-In....

Midway through the third week of our second semester, and I thought I'd check in and update on how things are going.

The Monday to Thursday schedule is working beautifully! Now, there's a definite feel of "projects get done on Friday, or carried to the weekend, but no later" which helps tremendously. Also, if any other subject gets "behind" the boys are able to use what would be free time on Friday and finish that up, as well. Having an almost free day once a week cuts down the "we need a break" syndrome, too. All in all, it's been a fantastic schedule help -- I am so glad I remembered a friend doing it and decided to try it in our home school. Yay!

The Writer is currently working on an art project that has been a multi-step thing; I can't wait to see the finished product. It's an abstract self portrait, with very specific guidelines, and so far it is amazing. That should be a Friday finish this week, so I can post pictures this weekend or Monday. yay!

The Artist is pushing, hard, through his English course so that we can move on. The writing projects are not the easiest thing for him, but he's doing well. I am so proud of him in that he doesn't give up, even when things are hard. And he's getting pretty good grades on things, with helpful feedback as well -- his teacher is fantastic and really seems to use grading as a teaching tool to show him where  he can improve for next time. I hope he gets the same teacher next semester (with TTUISD, you register one semester at a time, and the 2nd semester teacher is not always the same as first semester).

The Adventurer is plugging along. We've hit a bit of a stall on phonics acquisition, and I remind myself that this road to literacy is a marathon, not a sprint. I thought we'd found a trick to help with the portion of Earobics that most frusttrates him, but he is still not able to do that particular game very well, and I'm not sure why; I think it's a matter of brain maturity, and his is just not there yet. So, I've tabled that game, and we will plug on and keep working.

He is showing some strong dislike for the curriculum we use as far as history, Bible & science -- he sees his brothers "doing" stuff for school, and he wants to "do stuff" too. So I'm on the hunt for history & science curriculum that has him "do stuff." If anyone has ideas or suggestions, I would love to hear them! Something activity or computer based would be awesome. I have some DVDs to try for science, but I fear that watching a DVD will not be enough "doing stuff" for him and he'll protest that as well. With his multitude of learning challenges, finding a curriculum that interests and excites him and thus gains his cooperation is vital. With so much else to overcome, resistance to the very curriculum is just not something I want to add/keep in our school day. In the meantime, I'm focusing only on his math and reading skills, and trust he'll pick up history and science later on.

We have made strides in his behavior, through a very simple diet change...more on that in an upcoming post!

Hope your semester is going well, whether you are just starting like we are or winding down like much of the US is. Happy Wednesday, all!

Friday, April 5, 2013

Character Traits, in Pictures

As a part of The Artist's studies with TTUISD, he had to draw a picture depicting some of his character traits, what makes him unique. It was a difficult project for him, as he has a hard time thinking of himself in those sorts of terms, but he did it.

Honest
Kind
Good Reader
Good Chef
Thoughtful

Yep, all things I'd use to sum up my boy! And I love the creative way he depicted each one -- note the "thought bubbles" for "thoughtful." I think that's my favorite!

Character Traits Drawing
What are your kids up to these days?

Monday, April 1, 2013

2nd Semester, 2013

Today we start back to school after our oddly timed Semester Break! The boys are a bag of mixed emotions, some grateful for something to do, some wishing for more time just to play, but everyone at least understanding that we have to start up again and get back to work, so hopefully today goes well. We shall see!

I thought I'd start off our semester by posting everyone's new schedule. We are continuing with the on-line distance education program (TTUISD) for the oldest, partial enrollment in same for the middle schooler, and at-home school/remediation for the youngest.

The Writer, 9th Grade, 2nd Semester-- 
English
World Geography
Geometry
Biology
Foundations of Personal Fitness (replaces Health)
Art

The Artist, 6th Grade, 2nd Semester -- 
English
Science
Math (Teaching Textbooks 6)
Geography (Around the World in 180 Days, tweaked schedule)
Typing (via Typing Instructor Deluxe)

The Adventurer, Age 8 --
Handwriting Without Tears K
All About Spelling 1
Earobics Software
Edmark Reading Software
Spalding/Writing Road to Reading (maybe)
History -- continuing through "Child's History of the World"
Bible -- continuing through Egermeir's Bible Story Book
Science -- continuing through a National Geographic Society series of books we own
Assorted Therapy Games/Activities

I've revamped the schedule so that everyone mostly has Friday off, except for projects. We got very overwhelmed last semester with all the writing assignments, art projects, and other projects for each class and thus projects tended to get shoved aside as we plodded through the rest of the "regular" material, such that we had a back-log of projects at the end of the semester.

In an effort to avoid that this semester, I have scheduled the regular course work to be done only Monday through Thursday, with Friday's set aside for Cleaning Day (which we desperately need to return to), and Project Day. Hopefully being able to focus ONLY on those projects, whether art, English, or Other, will allow the boys to actually finish projects when scheduled. We'll institute a "must be submitted by Sunday night" policy to ensure we don't fall behind again.

While the on-line course allows us 6 months to complete each course, which means an expiration date of roughly October 1st, we are aiming to finish by early to mid August, as we've recently learned we'll be returning to the US sometime in September. We very much want to be done with the semester, including final exams taken, before we move home, which means we need to stay on our (self-imposed) schedule this semester. I really think the Monday to Thursday tweak will help a great deal with that. I hope.

Looking forward to a great 2nd semester, and wishing each of you a happy spring today!

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Wordless Wednesday: Caught Reading...

Ignore the blink, he was reading this.
For fun.
While on Semester Break.

and I couldn't resist a picture of The Adventurer,
who knows that breaks are for playing.

Monday, March 11, 2013

Fall Break!!

whew! We did it!! We survived the exams, all the grades are in except for Geometry, and our first semester of on-line school is over!!!! yay!!!

Assuming a passing grade on the Geometry exam (and I have no reason to think it won't be), The Writer will finish the semester with 3 As and 2 Bs. We are so stinkin' proud of him!!!  He has worked so hard, and now, time for a much-deserved, hard-earned break!

The Artist finished science; we're waiting on that grade still but expect an A. Hooray!! He has a few weeks of English left, because the school did not release the new English course at the same time and so that course doesn't finish up until early May. I  have checked his schedule, and he will be able to take the next three weeks off with us and then pick up English and finish it; he'll just have to work later at the end of next semester to finish that English course.

So, a three week break. Wow. We'll start our 2nd semester right after Easter.  Meanwhile, I'll be busy sewing and quilting and organizing/decluttering, and I trust the boys will find things to keep themselves busy as well.

Hope your school year is going well!

Thursday, March 7, 2013

Exam Update

Well, half way through the week and The Writer has finished 3 of his 5 exams.  We are all feeling a little less intimidated, thank goodness.

We had a minor snafu with the Geometry exam -- the school sent our Proctor a printable exam, which the Proctor printed and administered to The Writer. He used a #2 pencil, as instructed, which turns out to have been a bad idea.

The Proctor had to scan in the exam and email it back to the school. Pencil doesn't show up well in a scan, so we're waiting to hear back from the school how to fix it --- can he, in the presence of the Proctor, trace over his answers in pen and rescan it? Will they instead send out another exam for him to retake? We have no idea.

Of course, this morning I checked his Geometry grades (why I didn't do this yesterday is beyond me), hoping that even though I'd not received the standard emails letting me know the chapters had been graded, that maybe the grades were there anyway.

They were.

Including a grade for the review exercise, which was very similar to the final exam.

The review itself was just a completion grade, but the teacher is going to send out a step-by-step correction to every single problem so that The Writer can check over every problem, follow along, make corrections and study for the exam.

The exam he took yesterday before I saw that this email will be coming.

The exam that is sort of already turned in, because The Proctor sent in the illegible scan, to find out what the school wants us to do to fix said scan.

Why oh why oh why didn't I check this yesterday?????

(sigh)

Oh well. What's done is done, and I did look over his review before we turned it in, and I don't think he did poorly on the review. Which means, if he did the exam in the same fashion, he probably did okay. He has exactly a 90 average so far in Geometry, pending the final exam. The exam is worth 25% of his final grade, so if he passes the exam (which he must, in order to pass; it's a strange loophole the school has), he'll have an 85 overall. That's with the minimum passing grade on the exam. So, really, I think he'll be okay. I'm just kicking myself that we pushed ahead and thus robbed ourselves, robbed him, of this tool that would have helped him do even better.

As for the other exams, he has completed Health and World Geography. Those are partially graded already, as they were completed on-line and so the multiple choice, True/False and Matching type questions were auto-graded; his grade could increase on each one if he did well on the short-answer type questions. As it is, he did well enough on each of those exams to maintain his A average in those two classes. Yay! I am so very  proud of him!!

Today, the Biology exam. Tomorrow, English. I am feeling, and I think he is too, much more relaxed now. He is doing so very well, and I am so very proud of him. Not just for the grades, which are fantastic, but for his work ethic, his determination, and this proof of his good character above all else. The good grades are, for me, gravy.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Vulnerability....

When I signed my oldest son up for an on-line distance learning program, I didn't imagine all the emotions I'd feel about it. I knew I was relinquishing control, giving up all the good books, allowing someone else to decide what he needed to learn and what he didn't. I was, am, okay with that. It's high school, and he's still at home, so I can still chat with him about what he learns (I am so thankful he does that, chats with me about what he's learning...), and be a part of the shaping of his opinions, the forming of his world view.

It happens, right? We all, eventually, grow up and make our own decisions, sometimes ones that don't coincide neatly with what our parents want. I'm glad, then, that he includes us and that his first taste of An Outside Voice is coming while he still lives at home.

Because after High School comes college, University. And he may or may not live at home for that, depending on where we're living by then, what school he goes to, etc. But he will, without a doubt, be inundated with Different Opinions. Outside Voices. Teachers, professors, telling him What To Believe. Friends. Peers. Roommates and Suite Mates and a whole big college campus full of ideas and opinions coming at him from every which way.

I don't want that to be his first exposure to information that wasn't hand picked by me or his dad. I just don't. If I were still hand-picking all of his curriculum, carefully crafting a structure for building his world view around my world view, it would not be tested, tried, and sure by the time he leaves for college. And when those differing views come at him, fast and furious, we would not be there, his dad and I, to help him sift through what's right, what's wrong, what's in between, and why each one is what it is.

So, when I handed over control of curriculum choosing, signed him up for TTUISD, I was ready for that. I had thought it through, analyzed it, weighed it, sized it up and arrived at my conclusion: This was, is, a good thing. And it is. It has played out much like I thought -- he is beginning, now, in the safety and comfort of our home, to bounce his new ideas off of us, testing them for validity, waiting to see our reaction. Do we like this new idea of his? Are we okay with it? Is he becoming a young man we're proud of?  (he is, and we are).

What I didn't expect, wasn't prepared for, is the vulnerability. Of sending my son out into this world, not just to be hit with differing opinions as solid teachings, but opinions. Not about subject matter, but about his performance as a student. Grades. From someone else. I am finding that to be a scary feeling.

When you've been the only teacher in your child's life, ever, it's nerve wracking. Suddenly, someone else has the deciding vote, "Is he a good student? Is this assignment well done? Did he do, is he doing, a good job??"

Suddenly, because you've always ever been his only teacher, it feels like someone else is not grading just your son, but you. Did you teach him well?

Except, as we near the end of our first semester, I am more scared about how he is being judged than how I am being judged. Insecurity. Vulnerability. Wanting to see him succeed, to hear that his teachers are pleased with his work. Just like I wanted him to be liked on the playground, to make friends, just as we all want our kids to do well.

And now here we are. He has finished 3 of his six courses. He is finishing up 2 more, and will request an extension for the 6th; Art was a bit overwhelming for us. His grades at this point are all As, pending the assignments waiting to be turned in. He has such a high A in Geography that he could get a 69 on the final exam, which is worth 25% of his grade, and still have an A in the course over all. Except that he is required to pass the exam, or it doesn't count.

I'm proud of him, of how hard he's worked so far. Of the job he has done, of the work ethic he has shown.

But my heart is in my throat as he gets ready to take these exams, these first real tests of his; exams that will set his grade for the first semester that will go on a transcript that will one day be sent to colleges as he seeks admittance to their institutions.

I have no reason to think he'll do anything other than awesome, truly. But I am nervous. Insecure. Vulnerable.

Wish us me him luck.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

One of the down sides of non-Mom-led schooling....

This school year we embarked on a new adventure: on-line school.  We researched several different options --- Potter's School, K12 Virtual Academy, Kolbe Academy, Connections Academy, and a few others --- before we found, and decided on, TTUISD.  TTUISD is a K through 12th on-line distance learning program run by Texas Tech University; the elementary grades are print-based, not on-line, and middle school is about half & half, while high school offers either one.

TTUISD is different from other on-line programs, in that there are no on-line lectures to attend; no video lectures to watch; no peer interaction. For many, that's a definite negative. However, the other side of that is, there are no due dates, no "you must participate in this lecture at this time" sorts of deadlines. For us, with a fluctuating time difference (we can be as few as 2 hours, or as many as 4 hours, ahead of Texas), internet service that can drop on a whim, and a travel schedule that is random and spontaneous, we saw this lack of deadlines as a plus; in fact, this was the single biggest reason we chose TTUISD over the other programs.

A semester in, I am glad we did. The flexibility has been wonderful.

What's been less than wonderful is the adjustment to a lack of a different kind of flexibility: the ability for Mom to skip any assignment that doesn't make sense, seems pointless, is redundant, etc.  Now, most of the work the boys have been assigned has been good stuff; challenging stuff. The Writer has learned to work Power Point, making several very detailed slide shows for Geography.  He's learned to research, gathering facts from various sources, filling in charts, and then using that information to write summaries and brief essays.

His health class had an extensive project, mandated by the state of Texas, about parenthood/teen parenthood.  At first glance, I felt this was a bit.....unnecessary. But as I read through the questions that his teacher composed to round out the instruction, I was impressed. She didn't just focus on statistics and she gave next to zero commentary on whether a teen ought to avoid pregnancy via abstinence or protected sex; as a Christian, I appreciated, greatly, that the content was not weighted in either direction. Instead, the content of this unit focused on the numerous natural consequences of teen pregnancy; things like budgeting for a baby, determining paternity, paying child support, and even various decisions a parent has to make throughout the life of a child, from newborn to high school graduate, which I think really helped drive home the fact that a baby is a life long thing. A project that I at first wanted him to skip, but proved to be well-written and worthwhile.

Science and math haven't had too many outside projects, though both are well done courses. English, however, has had several. Writing is a big part of his English course, and it's been....interesting. His current project is one I would skip, if it were up to me.  He's read Romeo & Juliet, and over the course of reading it he's answered multiple quizzes to show he understands the plot, understands the language, understands the significance of various quotes in the play, etc. In other words, the unit on Romeo & Juliet was thorough. Very. So the final project for this unit seems redundant and unnecessary:  compile a sound track for the play.

Not only does he have to choose 2 songs to accompany every Act of the play, as well as an introductory song and a concluding song, but he also has to tell where each song fits --- Act, Scene & Lines. Then he has to write an "8 to 10 sentence paragraph" explaining what is happening in this scene in the play, what is happening in the song, and how the song & scene fit together. For every song. He also has to include the lyrics, and make a cover-art for the album.

I understand that the teacher is wanting to make double, triple sure that the students really understand Romeo & Juliet. I understand that she's trying to relate it to something that clicks with most teenagers -- music. I get it; I really do. But my son is not most teenagers, and he does not listen to music much at all.

If we were still actually home schooling, I would have him write me an essay about Romeo & Juliet, showing that he understands the plot, themes, etc. I would not make him tie it to modern music, particularly not with his perfectionist bent.  His father and I have helped him decide on songs, and he is now writing up his required paragraphs. He keeps balking, though, because a line here or there in the song doesn't fit 100% with the story of the chosen scene in the play. He wants the lyrics to be a perfect match; I understand this, I'm the same way.

When I chose what song to play at my wedding, my gift to my husband, I skipped over songs that held sentimental value because they did not *perfectly* describe us. I listened to every single wedding tape I could find at a local bookstore, painstakingly listening to every lyric of every song until I found one that said exactly what I wanted to say. Trouble is, I've lost that tape and have no idea what song I played for my husband, at our wedding. No idea whatsoever.

Now my son is doing the same thing with this play project. He wants the lyrics to be perfect. The problem is, there aren't 12 songs out there written exactly for Romeo & Juliet, so no song is going to fit exactly. They just won't. It's his job to take the song lyrics and the scene and explain how they do fit, not worry about how they don't.

Six songs in, he's getting it, but this is not an easy project for him, at all. I wish I could just let him skip it. I really do. He understands the play, very well. He writes beautifully, so he really doesn't need the writing practice. In fact, he's having to write more poorly than normal, because of the sentence requirement. He likes to write lengthy sentences, and for this assignment he is having to chop them up into smaller ones. His teacher sort of hyper-focuses on whether or not the students meet the technical requirements of any given writing assignment, so while he could write perfectly legitimate and thorough paragraphs for each song, if they are not exactly "8 to 10 sentences" and in one paragraph, he'll lose points. A lot of points. He is pouring as much effort into that sentence count as he is into the content of his paper, which saddens me. Greatly.

If I could, I'd ditch the whole project and not require it. But I can't. I'm only the mom now, not the teacher, which means my job shifts from deciding what he does to ensuring he does his best at whatever he's been assigned, even the mundane and redundant.

A down-side, for sure. Not a big enough con to have us switch programs, but something to be aware of if on-line school is something you are considering.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Progress....

"Slow and steady wins the race...." --- this has become my mantra as I adjust to schooling my youngest, recently diagnosed with a whole laundry list of learning differences. I'm learning to notice and cherish all the little signs of progress, because this is going to be a long road.

Yesterday was one of those days with the ever elusive "progress."

Roughly ten days ago, I started working through All About Spelling (AAS) with The Adventurer, one of the things we're doing as we slowly but surely work towards literacy.  One aspect of AAS is teaching the phonograms; that is, showing a card with a letter on it, and having the child learn (and memorize) the sounds represented by that letter.

As we're learning English, the vowels especially have many sounds, and when we started this, The Adventurer knew 10 phonograms. Out of the 26 letters, and all the sounds those represent, he knew ten. Here we are ten days later and he's moved two more letters (and 5 more sounds) to the mastery section, and almost gained a 3rd letter (with 4 sounds) as well. yay! I'm beyond thrilled with this, but that's not the progress I wanted to share.

Another aspect of AAS is having the child segment words into individual sounds. If you think about segmenting words into syllables, you're almost there. Now take it a step further and think about isolating every individual sound. For example, the word "go" can be segmented into /g/-/o/; the word "dog" into /d/-/o/-/g/.

AAS starts with "2-sound words" --- things like go, do, to, see, be, of, etc. --- and then moves onto "3-sound words." In the beginning, the child is handed two (and then three) little tokens, small plastic discs, one for each sound. The teacher (aka, me) speaks the word, then the child repeats the word followed by each sound of the word. As the child says the individual sounds, he pulls a token down towards himself as a way of putting a physical component to the exercise and really making the idea of "separate sounds" something concrete, tangible.  Later on, letter tiles will replace the tokens and the child will pull the right letters; we're not there yet, though.

Ten or so days ago, when I started this, The Adventurer struggled with separating out the individual sounds even in "2-sound words."  I modeled for him, several times, and we did a series of 5 words per day for two or three days before he was really catching on and able to pull tokens with the separate sounds. Once he got it, though, he really got it. Suddenly we flew through the whole 20 word list, and then the next 20 word list, and he looked at me with his, "This is so boring, Mom...." look that tells me he's really mastered it and it's time to move on. So we did.

Three-sound words were next, and I prepped myself for a slow start, just like we'd had with the two-sound words. It had, after all, taken a week to get to mastery of that, and I wasn't sure he could isolate beginning, middle, ending sound of a word.

But he did.

Right away, first word I gave him. I showed him one example, "pig -- /p/-/i/-/g/, pig" and he took it from there. He was so bored that at first he pulled tokens in the wrong order, going right to left instead of left to right, but I gently reminded him that when we read, we read left to right so he needed to pull the tokens in that order, too. It's a concrete reminder of first/middle/last, so it's important he go in order. Five or so words into it, he was doing that as well.

He blew through the entire 25 word list. Without a single error, hesitation, mistake....just perfectly segmented every word I gave him.

Wow. Progress. These are the moments I cherish.

Friday, February 15, 2013

Let the censoring begin....

In fifteen+ years of parenting, I have never, not once, told any of my children that they were not allowed to read a certain book. Ever. It is just not something I've ever felt I had to do.

Partly because we are pretty liberal with what we allow:  I don't mind make-believe, even of the magical, wizardy sort. Or of the killing bad guys sort. Or really any type of make-believe, at all. Because, well, make believe is exactly that -- made up. Not real. And I think most kids understand that difference, even if they later run around acting out scenes from the make believe.

I know, for instance, that my boys know that pointing a stick and yelling, "Expeliarmus!" at their brothers will not, in fact, cause the brother(s) to drop whatever they are using for a wand. Even when an indulging big brother pretends that the fake spell did, in fact, work, I know that the little brother still knows it is all pretend.

So I don't mind them delving into fantasy, and adventure tales, and worlds of talking cats and half-blood kids who are part Greek gods, and wand-wielding teenagers, and what have you. I don't. Even when sometimes they come to me and report that this wonderful series has a bad word (or three) in it.

But today my oldest was found reading a book that gave me pause. For the first time in my parenting career, ever. He is of an age where make-believe has given way to realism, where the tales he picks up are firmly rooted in reality, giving a version of real life, of what is, not what could maybe be. Suddenly, this makes a difference.

What an uncomfortable place this is for me.

I have a deeply ingrained belief that censorship is wrong. Period. And I've let that color my parenting; I'm the parent who goes out and buys the books from the Banned Books list, who scoffs at those who allow X while prohibiting Y. I'm eating my words a little bit today.

You see, this book that my boy wanted to read -- had, in fact, started to read -- portrays a slice of reality that I just don't think he's ready for. More importantly, what finally pushed me to flat out tell him he's not allowed to read this book just yet, is that he showed me he's not ready for it yet.

As I explained to him the many things about the book that made me uncomfortable, the many things which I knew would also make him uncomfortable, my son portrayed a bit of innocence about these topics.  Okay, a lot of innocence. Innocence that I was touched to see, but that confirmed to me that this book is not the proper book for stripping that innocence away.

I'm not trying to shield him forever. I know that he will, gradually, come to an awareness of all the topics in this book. And I'm okay with that. But I am not okay with handing him this book to strip all of that away at once.

I can't explain all of the whys about this; it comes down to one thing. My gut, which never ever says "you can't read that!", screamed at me this time, loud and clear. When I saw the book in his hand, I was gripped with....something. Not fear, it wasn't that, but a deep-seated discomfort. And that never happens to me. I don't say no to books. Ever.

Until now. Because old enough, mature enough, nearly adult enough -- all of that might be true. But so is still innocent enough; innocent enough that this book would pull back a curtain he's not ready to peek behind. And as his mom, it's my job to keep that curtain closed a little bit longer; to give him permission, in the guise of my prohibition, to not peek yet.

And that's a more comfortable place, for both of us, even though it's a parenting first I never imagined having. 

Monday, February 4, 2013

High School Writing: Six Word Memoirs


My oldest son, The Writer, had an interesting assignment last week --- write not one, but five, six-word memoirs.  His teacher (he is enrolled in an on-line distance learning program for high school) stressed the importance of each sentence telling a story, not just stating a fact.  She used the example of Ernest Hemingway, who once (it is said) answered a challenge by telling the following six-word story:  "For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn."  The Writer's teacher asked her students to do the same --- tell a story, tell five stories, in six words each.

My boy rose to the challenge, and earned a grade of 100 for his efforts. In the process, he delighted me as well, and I can't help but share his stories with you. Enjoy!



1. Do school, eat, walk dogs. Repeat. 

2. Architect, explorer, game-maker... On Minecraft. 

3. Moved to Brazil. Learned unique things. 

4. Joined a youth group. Made friends. 

5. Wrote some six word masterpieces today! 


My favorite, of course, is number five. That sums up my boy's humor in one perfect sentence. That he would have that confidence throughout all of his life.....that is my hope and prayer for him.  He writes well. He is a hard worker, unafraid to try new things, to push himself beyond his comfort zone. I love all of this about him, every story so carefully told in the allotted six words.....each one means something to me. My boy, my oldest son, who wrote some six word masterpieces this past week. How I love my boy!



Monday, January 28, 2013

A Little (really exciting) Victory

If you've been reading here very long, you've seen that my 7 year old (who'll be 8 in February) can't read. At all. You'll also know that we're working on it, with guidance from the experts who tell us that he has a laundry list of things standing between him and literacy.  And you'll know that we see that list more like cones to drive around than a wall to scale; in other words, The Chemist and I don't really accept the possibility that The Adventurer might not ever learn to read. He will learn, and we'll help him on every step of the journey from here to literacy, however long it takes. Period.

This past weekend, we had a little, really big, victory in that arena and I just have to share it with you.

On Friday, The Adventurer asked for a book to be read to him over and over and over again. I read it to him once, and The Artist (his 12 yr old brother) read it to him two or three times, and The Adventurer laughed and giggled through every reading.

I noticed while I was reading, which happened to be the third reading of the day, that he was beginning to whisper the dialogue portions under his breath as I read them, anticipating the text just a bit.

Now, pretty much anyone who has ever read to a child, even one as young as three or four years old, knows that kids tend to memorize text when it is repetitive and predictable enough. Most children can, when being read a book like that, fill in the last word or two if the reader pauses and lets them. Think about Green Eggs & Ham --- everyone knows "I do not like them, Sam I Am!" comes at the end of just about every page. Even three and four year olds, once they've heard the book often enough, and they will gleefully say that phrase along with their parent, or instead of, if the parent stops and lets the child fill in the missing words. Nearly every parent on the planet knows this, has experienced it.

The Adventurer has never done that. Not once. In all his nearly eight years, he has never filled in a missing word, never completed the next line, never shouted out with glee "I do not like them, Sam I Am!" when I paused in reading Green Eggs & Ham to him. Never. Not with any book, even the ones that he has been read on a nearly daily basis.

To say that I was excited that he was now whispering the dialogue along with me......yea, that would be an understatement. I was pretty much giddy, but I tried not to show it and just kept reading. The Adventurer has the sort of personality that, if you cheer for him too soon over something he's still unsure of, he'll stop doing it. So, I kept a poker face (more or less) and just finished the story.

But that is not the end. What happened on Saturday is what really excited me. 

We were in the car, heading out for dinner. The Adventurer piped up from the back seat that "if we had a fat cat, and a pet rat, and a mat, and a crazy broom, that would be a recipe for trouble!"  and continued on to explain to his father, The Chemist, that he knows this because of the book from Friday; the back of the book clearly states that if you have a fat cat, a pet rat, a mat and a crazy broom, then you have a recipe for trouble.

I stifled a grin as I listened to him quote this, and then stifled a few laughs as he went on to explain that it really should be a fat and lazy cat, even though the book doesn't say lazy. And definitely it has to be a pet rat, not just an ordinary rat. And a crazy broom, not a normal broom. And then.....then he asked his dad, "Do you want to hear the book, Dad?"

When The Chemist answered, "Sure," The Adventurer went on to quote the story. 

Not summarize. Not just a word here and there. The entire story, the repetitive dialogue of each character (a rat, a bat, a hat, a cat, and a witch). In order. Getting every line right, each time. Beginning to end, with voice inflection and everything, just the way it had been read to him the day before.

I did not stifle that grin, did not even try to. I did hold back the tears, just barely. I did not hold back the praise; confident that he was confident, I said as nonchalantly as I could that I was proud of him, that he did a great  job remembering the story and telling it to Daddy. The Adventurer confessed he skipped a part (he did); I told him that was okay. He moved on to other topics of conversation, and I just kept smiling.

No, he's not reading yet. No, the fact he can memorize a story does not mean he'll be reading next week. But it does mean that the work we're doing is working. A skill that he simply couldn't do in the past, mastered. Progress. Hope. Proof that he can do this. And for that, I couldn't be happier.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Benefits of Homeschooling

Mindy at Grateful for Grace is at it again, this time asking "If you had 5 minutes to sum up the benefits of homeschooling, what would you share?"  Wow. Ummm........

As she didn't have a chance for deep thought before answering, I'm just going to dive in and say what comes to mind.

For me, the biggest benefit is that it allows us the freedom to set our own travel schedule.  We are able to go with The Chemist on business trips; we are able to travel to the US regardless of school season; we are able to vacation in the off-season when prices are lower and people are fewer; we are able to be in charge of our own time rather than handing over those reigns to an institution. This is the single biggest thing that has kept us from using more structured options, and is the biggest factor in which on-line program we chose for our oldest son. Seriously.

I struggled with handing over the educational reigns when we first chose to use an on-line program; it was hard to resign as teacher and become only mom (at least to that son). I was not willing, none of us were, to also hand over control of our schedule. A school does not know our family enough to get to tell me (us) when we can vacation, when we can take a holiday, or that we can or cannot travel with The Chemist when he has long business trips. That flexibility is a benefit we hold tightly; no surprise that it's the first thing that springs to mind for me.

Other benefits.....the ability to meet each child exactly where he is. If we need to spend 18 months on Algebra, because I foolishly jumped from 7th grade math straight into Algebra (skipping over Pre-Algebra), we can.

If a child needs to move through more readers in a month than some of his siblings read in a year, we can do that, too. If one child needs for me to scribe for him (he dictates, I write) because of difficulties with handwriting, I can do that and I don't even need an outside expert to give me permission or authorize it for me.

If we need to stop and spend 6 months on multiplication facts before returning to regular math, we can. If, after that amount of drill, the child is ready to speed through the regular math, we can accelerate our pace and he can speed through.

If another child needs intense remediation to learn to read, we can do that, too (though we did in that case seek out expert help).   Each child, each student, gets exactly what he needs, at exactly the right time and at the right pace. No one is forced to move too quickly, or too slowly, through the study material because there is not a class full of other students who are setting the pace.

There's more, of course. Family togetherness, though I think even non-homeschooling families can have that. Tailoring not only the pace, but the subject matter as well, to the needs of each student. For example, I can skip over books about giant tidal waves when I'm working with a child with major anxiety. Or I can read it to him, as an example of how people survived such an event, in hopes it encourages him. The key factor is, I get to decide, because I know my child best. And even now that some of mine are in on-line programs, with someone else dictating what they read, I can read alongside each one and help them navigate these sometimes muddy waters.

We can tailor not just the subject matter, but also the curriculum, the learning/teaching style. If one student needs a workbook approach, we can do that. If another needs a very hands-on, project based approach, we can do that. Never has that been more true than now with The Adventurer; he is using very few of the curriculum choices that worked for his older brothers, because he learns very differently than they did.

If the boys had all attended public school, The Adventurer would now be expected to learn in whatever manner his teacher used; she would not be able to adapt her teaching style to meet him where he is.  As his mom & homeschool teacher, I can do what she cannot: I can, and have, adapt my teaching methods so that they are exactly the style through which he best learns.

These are the biggies for me, for my family. We remain in control of our schedule; we set the school pace to meet the needs of the student rather than force the student to meet the pace of the school; and we tailor the curriculum & subject matter to meet the learning styles, interest & other needs of the student rather than force a square peg into a round hole. I suppose all three of those fall under the heading of flexibility, in one way or another. What it means to me, though, is that we can give totally individualized, tailor-made tutoring for each individual student. At a fraction of what that would cost us if we were to outsource such a thing.

That's the benefit, for us.  What about you? Which benefits make your list? 


Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Home Again....Let the Decompression Begin

Mondays. I hate them. Especially Mondays that are the first day back after a break. The weekend break is bad enough, but add in returning from a week's vacation....yuck.

Yesterday was the worst Monday we've had in a very long time. The Adventurer was extremely not impressed to be back in a normal routine. Our week away, which was truly wonderful, really did something to his attitude. He gets very unsettled when we travel, and I suppose since it's been a long time since our last trip, it was worse this time. Either that or it's been long enough that I've forgotten; maybe it's always this bad.

He was quite out of sorts while on the trip, although only when I tried to inject structure into the non-structure environment of vacation. He was absolutely delightful in the down times, when nothing was expected of him but to have fun. And he was a delight this weekend, again, no expectations.

Then Monday morning came.

He is genetically predisposed to hate Mondays; you should see his father. Everyone at work knows, don't talk to The Chemist on a Monday before lunch. After lunch is probably okay, but not before.  So it really shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. Like I said, it's been a long time since we've had such a rough morning.

Ironically, once it was time to do school, he was fine. Thank goodness.  He started off cranky, though, and just got crankier.  Right up to lunch time.

Normally, a cranky Adventurer means one of two things: tired, or hungry/low blood sugar. Yesterday, though, it wasn't either. He'd gone to bed early the night before, woke up at his normal time, ate breakfast.....and was still a screaming, kicking, fighting mess of a cranky boy. Hooray for Mondays.

The art of distraction brought a lull, and when he started back up I just picked him up and carried him to the hammock for a reset swing. He fought me all the way, but once I got him into the hammock and started swinging, the fight just melted away. Slowly, but it melted. See, one thing I hadn't mentioned yet is that  he also has Sensory Processing Disorder.

In some ways he is a sensory avoider --- he detests loud noises, sticky, messy hands, and being touched on the head; in fact, fastest way to become his worst enemy? touch him on the head.

 In other ways, he is a sensory seeker --- he likes to swing fast and high, be swaddled in blankets, and the bigger, scarier the movement, the better. I've found that a nice swing in the hammock, starting low & slow and building to fast & high, is a near miraculous reset button for him when he's stuck in a tantrum. Yesterday was no different, and I only wish I'd remembered earlier in the day. Once he had his swing time, he was fine.

Meanwhile, The Writer jumped right back into school; I am so proud of this boy's work ethic. He knows what he has to do, and he does it. Period. No argument, no fussing, no complaints, just diligent work until it's done. He escaped to his room to read during the loudest parts of the shouting, but he kept working and got everything done that he needed to do.

The Artist took a bit of warming up. He is the cutest work-avoider ever, because he asks, smile on his face, if he can skip math. Or English. Or science. Or school all together. The giant grin shows that he knows the answer will be no, and that he's accepted that, but he can't help asking just in case. Who knows, maybe one day I'll say yes. I love that he gets right down to work as soon as I say he really does have to; he asks to be let off, but accepts the answer graciously. Like I said, cutest work-avoider ever.

Once The Adventurer was nicely reset and after he ate lunch, we did his school. I did give him a light day to ease him back into working (and because I was exhausted after the difficult morning); a Scribbles page, I read his history and Bible to him (comprehension today was only so-so), and then we did math. He is finally getting those teens and higher numbers, without forgetting or mixing any up. Yay!

He is still struggling with the wording of "less than" and remembering what that means (as in, what's one less than 27?). He can easily go forward and add; he has a bit of trouble going backwards/subtracting. We were told to keep an eye out for dyscalculia (aka, math dyslexia, basically.....); I imagine this is a part of that, but hopefully he'll overcome it easier than the reading.

So far this morning, everyone is in a better mood. Here's hoping we had only a one day decompression and the rest of the week will go smoothly.

How was your Monday??


Saturday, January 19, 2013

Homeschooling on the Road: Flexibility at its Finest

For my last post in the "Day in the Life..." Home School Link-Up party at Grateful for Grace, I thought I'd highlight the reality of the past week for us: Homeschooling on vacation. Or rather, on a business trip.

The Chemist has to travel for work; roughly 25% of his year is spent away from home on one business trip or another.  Sometimes, that means he leaves early in the morning, flies to a nearby city to visit clients, then returns late that same night. Sometimes it means he goes for 2 to 3 days at a time, and sometimes, like this past week, it means he is gone for five days straight.

We can't always go with him, but when everything lines up just right, we love to tag along. As he doesn't usually have more than a few weeks' notice that he has a trip coming up, it is usually a last-minute type affair. Flexibility in action.  This past week was no exception to that rule.

With only 2 week's notice, I scrambled over Christmas break to rearrange the 6 week lesson plans that I'd just completed, so that one week would then reflect "go on a trip with Dad" and thus lighter work loads. Lighter in the sense of less work than normal, and in the sense of "I'd rather not pack all those bulky, heavy textbooks..." as well.

Since we do have an outside deadline this year, due to using an on-line distance learning program, I couldn't just give the boys the week off altogether; they are closing in on crunch time and need to finish this last six weeks of material in time to request final exams, take said exams, submit, get them back graded, and still have time to retake the exams if needed (their program allows only the final exam to be retaken, and only once; I doubt we'll need to use the do-over option, but just in case, I want them to have time to exercise that right). 

Plans rearranged, we packed up. Three laptops. Art supplies. A few textbooks. Notepads, paper, pencils, crayons. Coloring book and math workbooks. Assignment folders. Big plans to catch up on some time-intensive projects. Even that had to be flexed a bit as the week came together. Here's a typical day...

7:00 -- up & at 'em so we can all eat breakfast together before The Chemist goes to work for the day

8:00 -- breakfast in the hotel: cake, jello, scrambled eggs, bread, cheese, grilled sandwiches, fresh orange juice, chocolate milk, fresh fruit. No coffee, because the hotel coffee was horrid. Which is crazy, given where I live.

9:00 -- The Chemist goes to work for the day; I check email, link my already written blog-posts up, check Facebook, etc. while the boys either finish waking up, play, sleep a bit longer, whatever.

10:00 -- Okay, really; school. I direct The Writer to read & summarize the article over the Arizona Immigration Law and do that paper for Geography; I instruct The Artist to do his English assignments (I first make him daily pages to fill in so he can brainstorm for his short story assignment), and I sit down with The Adventurer for a nice, quiet math session.  Except, no one told The Adventurer it was to be a nice, quiet session.

The Artist, being goofy, looking at his assignment folder for the day


10:01 -- The Adventurer is beside himself with anger, frustration, and defiance. Learning challenges at their ugliest; taken out of his home routine, all the little signals he looks to that help him understand his surroundings are gone, so he is out of sorts (because, remember, everything coming in visually or auditorally is garbled). He thrives in routine; the predictability takes away the guess work and the effort he has to put forth to understand what we want him to do.

Also, he finds great comfort in his familiar surroundings, toys, games, etc. I bring as much as possible for him, but two under-bed sized boxes of Legos just do not pack well when traveling. He fights me, mightily, about having to do school. Full on, haven't seen this level of anger in a very long time, meltdown. Kicking, screaming, yelling meltdown. I stay calm (really), love him through it, and eventually we do a math page, a Scribbles page, and some sequencing cards. We are both exhausted at the end of it.

11:45 -- The Adventurer is still cranky, even though we've just finished his school work. He wants me to make The Artist play with him, but The Artist still lacks Science before his school day is over. The Writer has stared at the same article for the past hour & a half, unable to summarize it because in the confines of our hotel suite, he can't think over the screaming. I declare a break for lunch --- down to the beach. Go. Now.

11:48 -- we stop for ice cream or a snack and then sit on the beach for a few hours. One day was ice cream, another day snacks & drinks from a beach-side restaurant, another day we stayed in and watched a movie instead. Some days the fussing did not last quite so long, but we had to take this break every day. The Adventurer is instantly transformed once he's had  a bite of food and is turned loose to play in the sand & the surf. I relax and enjoy the moment.

The Artist & The Adventurer play in the sand & surf

1:15 -- while The Artist & Adventurer play, The Writer sits with me in the shade of a tree, sipping fresh juice on the beach. He picks up a handful of sand, sifts it onto a white napkin, and comments on all the colors. Intrigued by the awe in his voice, I scoop up my own handful of sand, eager for this moment of precious connection with my oldest son. He's right; the sand is multi-colored; grains of red, pink, orange, yellow, tan, white, clear, gray & black, plus some that sparkle like diamonds when the sun hits them. Beautiful. Without looking closely like this, it just looks tan & black. I love that my son looks for ways to see beauty, and shares it with me when he finds it. Precious.

The Writer & I sit in the shade

2:00 -- back to the room. The Adventurer has been a delight while we took our break; The Writer reads the next part of Romeo & Juliet and takes his on-line quiz for that section; he did very well with this, reading more than I thought he would and finishing the play & all quizzes. Now he just has to create a soundtrack for the play (using 20th century music, though from any part of the 20th century) and he'll be done with that unit. The Artist does his science, and The Adventurer fusses only a little while I set up a movie for him to watch; I sit with him for a bit, he settles in and watches Sponge Bob, and the next hour & a half is quiet. I read a free book I downloaded to my Kindle, once I've finished scheduling Geography for The Artist.

3:30 -- The Chemist is done for the day and home from work. The Artist & The Writer are done with school for the day. The Writer promises to try the Geography project tomorrow (he will finish it this weekend, as it just was impossible to get done). The Adventurer is all smiles, mostly, and makes it hard for The Chemist to believe just how grumpy he'd been earlier. We go back to the beach for the afternoon, where we all share a snack & drinks. *our hotel was literally across the street from the beach. Nothing fancy, just a beach town where everything is across from the beach...

a crab we saw on the beach
his big brothers (much bigger) become snacks later, but I did not take pics of those

our hotel, seen from the beach. The white building with all the balconies.
our room was on the side and did not face the beach directly.

6:30 -- up from the beach; showers, change into non-sandy clothes, walk to dinner.

9:30 -- home from dinner; brush teeth, put on a movie for the boys, in bed by 10:00 because we are all tired.

Far less school work got done than I had planned; The Artist did pretty well, though 2 papers are still not written. The Writer did well, considering the challenges. He did very well with R&J, never did write the sonnet he was supposed to write, tried the geography project, and I never even mentioned geometry or art to him, as we just did not have time. The Adventurer's outbursts in the morning meant I was not available to help; The Chemist's short days meant we did not have sufficient time for long days of school; our mandatory break in the middle likewise cut our time for school short.

But. We will just keep being flexible. Projects can be homework, done evenings & weekends. The boys understand and accept this, no problems. The time together was priceless; despite the very rocky mornings, I am very glad we went. I am grateful, again, for the flexibility we have to just get up & go when The Chemist asks us to tag along.

This side of flexibility (vs. the kind you need when kids are sick, life interrupts, etc.) is my favorite part of home education; we set the hours, days, and overall schedule. Love that. Absolutely love it.