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.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
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.
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.
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!
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!
What are your kids up to these days?
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 |
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!
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!
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