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!
Monday, October 14, 2013
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?
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!
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.
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!
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.
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.
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!
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| 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!
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Wordless Wednesday: Caught Reading...
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| Ignore the blink, he was reading this. For fun. While on Semester Break. |
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| 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!
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.
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.
Wishus me him luck.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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