hallway thunder

A few days ago, G and L decided it would be a completely and totally awesome idea to roll all of their marbles down the hall.  At once.  So they collected the marbles, two dump trucks and headed to the end of the hall and proceeded to spend the next hour bowling with handfuls of marbles at a time, pushing them with blocks and filling up the trucks and then dumping loads of marbles to careen down the linoleum.  It was loud... very very loud.  Wishing we had a supply of earplugs in the house loud.  I cringed a few times, but mostly I was thrilled because they were happily playing together, taking turns, working together.  They have found a special world together, where they can share and play and imagine with each other and have even more fun than with mom and dad.

There is not much I like better than to watch them enjoy one another, even if it is the cause of a few headaches.  I believe that as time goes on, the best person to help G with his social skills, his language and APD in general may be his little sister.  She understands him better than I do sometimes and there's nothing in the world she wants more than to follow his every move and ask him lots of questions!  I can't wait to see (and hear) what they come up with next.

to school, or to another school?

Today I put in an application for G to go to an alternative program within the local school district, one that is about community and individualized learning and family involvement in education.  This program (I hear music in my head every time I think of it) is an amazing place for children, considering each person's needs and taking the idea of learning can be fun seriously. It has many similarities to the alternative (okay, maybe a little bit hippie) college where my husband and I met.  I really hope we can get in since I don't believe that a typical class would have enough support and individual awareness and care for him to succeed.  As his Auditory Processing disorder causes him to need more repetition and extra eye contact and a whole lot of patience and understanding, a lone teacher with thirty loud kids just isn't going to be able to meet his needs, and probably not even really understand where he's at, what he can and can't do.  

He's in a Special Education preschool now and I'm not very happy with it.  I mean, they are very patient and he loves being part of a class and being with other kids (besides his sister) but.  But it's not the right fit for him.  Their expectations are so low.  The other kids need a lot more attention and help, so he gets less.  The other kids have the same or lesser verbal skills and so they aren't helping him develop his communications.  Parents aren't welcome in the classroom.  It's just not right for him, for us.

If we can't get into the alternative program it will mean homeschool next year, taught by moi.  Which I'm terrified of doing, as I feel very underqualified and which I am also loathe to do because he needs social interactions in a classroom.  It's so important for his communication development and for his self esteem and so many other aspects of his development.

We spoke with our speech therapist about transferring G from his current Special Education preschool class to the alternative (but not Special with a capital "S") program and she said to go for it.  It made my eyes tear up to hear that she thinks he's ready.  And tear up again when she said that when she first met G, it would have been out of the question, but now she thinks he can be part of a classroom with "normal" kids.

In the meantime, we are waiting to see if we get in.  We are waiting, as always, to learn where the next leg of this journey will take us.  It felt good to decide to try to get in the program now.  My personal experience in most things has been that safe is sorry and I think it applies.  I want to school dangerously, and parent wherever and however G takes me.  Like the story of The Runaway Bunny, I am determined to find a place to fit into each day of his, each mood of his, each new challenge. To love him in whatever way he needs.

non-toys... the best toys

The kids are showing me again just how crazy I am to buy expensive toys.  Today the item of the day is a large stainless steel mixing bowl, which they are spinning like a top, rolling across large expanses of living room and wearing on their backs as a "turtle shell".  The best part (in my opinion) is when the bowl stops and makes a sort of gong-like sound and both kids shout "Too loud!"  The dog is unsure what to make of this.

fish

Because of Red Lobster we went to the pet store.  I'll explain.

G and I were out running errands this afternoon and drove past the Red Lobster restaurant.  He saw the big lobster and said "Mama, look, a crab."  I said "That's a lobster but it does look a bit like a crab, you're right.  Do you see the fish?" (pointing to the large painted fish on the side of the building)  G looks for the fish and then asks to see the fish.  He decided that the fish paintings meant it was an aquarium, which he loves and thought I was asking him if he'd like to see the fish.  I try feebly to explain that no, it's not a place to look at fish, but he doesn't understand.  It doesn't matter what I say now, he wants to see fish and thinks that I am denying him for some unknowable reason.  We have come to an impasse.

This happens often, less than it used to, but still too often.  It breaks my heart to know that from his perspective I offered something and then took it back, refused him.  Sometimes I imagine the whole world seems that way to G.  Our miscommunications make it hard for him to trust... hard for him to know that we care about his opinions and desires.  And so, whenever we can, we show him that we hear him, understand him and aren't going back on our word.

So we went to the pet store and saw the fish.  And we had a wonderful half hour watching fish and frogs, cats and birds and gerbils, and we picked up the dog bags we needed.

to draw and not to draw

G doesn't draw at home.  He tells me what to draw.  Occasionally he will color big messes and we tape them up on the wall to admire.  And admire them I do, but I also long to see his awkward and misproportioned self portraits, houses with no doors and mile-high pink roofs and cowboys riding spaceships.  So how excited was I when his teacher showed us a lovely circle, an "X" and a square that he drew all by himself at school?  Very!  Now I am left to wonder how to get him to draw shapes at home...

Maybe I need to go on a drawing strike myself.  Do it wrong or don't do it at all.  He says "Right here, cat, Mama" and I shake my head or draw a football instead.  Probably he's too clever for these tricks.  I'll have to find out.

doctor yay!

No, that's not our pediatrician's name, though we love him.  That's what G said on the way to the office this morning.  "To the doctor.  Doctor.... Yay!"

This was our very first doctor's visit without tantrums from G.  What made it different?  We told him what to expect and he was able to hear us... to understand, and therefore to feel it wasn't scary.  Last year's visit involved dragging him onto the scale and unsuccessfully trying to convince him it was alright for several minutes while the nurse added to the problem by giving him instructions he couldn't understand in a forceful tone, making him scared of her as well as the scale.  This time, he actually thought it was pretty cool to see how the scale works and the nurse wasn't upsetting even if she did look a little surprised by my enthusiastic response to G's success on the scale.  And there was a big fish tank, with a toy car that blew bubbles from under its hood... definitely cool.

It was such a relief to see him happily being weighed and measured, answering the Dr's questions happily, understanding.  I know it was a relief to him too.  L carefully watched to see what her big brother thought of the office, and then grudgingly let the doctor listen to her heart and poke her tummy.  After all, if G enjoyed it,  it must be safe.  A big brother is a wonderful thing!

fun at school

When I picked G up from preschool today, he looked happy.  He even said "bye" to his class.  So I thought I'd ask him that question I've asked so many times before with no luck.  "Did you have fun at school?"  And this time, he answered.  "I had fun at school."  Yay!  It wasn't unique, and it was definitely modeled after my question, but he answered in the first person and said every word of the sentence and the little smile on his face told me that he understood what he was telling me.  I am so proud of his progress!