Spinning Yellow

The Reality of School

Today was the start of Parent Observation Week at Scott's school.  While Jane played at her good friend Annie's house, I went in to see what the hell goes on Scott does while he is at school.  I am not sure if it was particularly eye-opening, but I did gain a little bit of insight.

I arrived while the class was sitting on the rug in the back of the room doing some kind of share-something-about-your weekend activity.  I watched as the teacher called on each child who had their hand raised and listened intently to what they had to say.  She was fully engaged and interested in each child.  She asked them questions and spoke kindly to the child if they were upset about something (my soccer team lost!  I hurt my foot!).  She told the children that they did not have to share if they did not want to and also reminded them that it was perfectly fine to say, "I just hung out at my house with my family."  There was no requirement to one-up each other as kids this age tend to do.

I was happy that I arrived in time to hear Scott tell her about his weekend.  How his Aunt and Uncle from California visited with his two cousins.  The teacher said, oh that must have been special, I bet you don't get to see them a lot.  And she was absolutely right.  In fact, Scott had been crying ever since they left the night before.  He was so sad that he will not see them again for awhile.

I liked that each child was given an opportunity to share and that the kids seemed genuinely interested in listening to their peers.  I could sense that the group of children cared about each other.  This is important for Scott, who does not have many friends and often feels uncomfortable with kids his own age.

Next up was a looonng math activity.  It started with the kids sitting at their desks while the teacher told them what materials to take out (their white board, easer, markers, coins, and math box).  I'd estimate that 50% of the class was able to do this without any trouble.  The other half of the class had one issue or another to a varying degree.  They couldn't find the stuff or they couldn't arrange the necessary items on top of their desk.  The teacher reminded them that they could ask to borrow something or they could look around the room to find what they needed, but they had to be ready quickly.  I felt Scott's anxiety as the activity started and he still hadn't gotten his things in order.

It was all I could do to sit quietly in my seat and not get up and help him.

The teacher arranged a nickel and 11 pennies on an overhead projector and instructed the children to write the amount on their white boards.  Fine.  But then she had to go around the room and check each child's work, correcting as she went.  I think she is a good teacher, but as the activity went on, I felt that the pace was excruciatingly slow.  The next task was to replicate the coins that she had and then to exchange the current money for fewer coins.  The tasks were valid, but boring, and I couldn't help but wonder if the children who didn't understand were any further ahead afterward.

And it was then that the reality of school really sunk in.  I know I sort of joke about homeschooling Scott.  I have such respect and admiration for people like This Mom who do this and do it so well.  I love teaching Scott and having discussions with him about anything.  The other day we talked about the prefix "omni" and tried to come up with silly words like "omni-sports-athlete".  I know he could learn a whole lot more in the hour I was at his school if he were home and moving at a different pace.  We could also concentrate on some of the things he has trouble with, like writing, without any pressure to get it done quickly.

But where I would fail is with making him be more independent and confident in a group.

He needs to learn how to get by without me.  This is painful to realize because I feel I am sacrificing his intellectual potential for more social competence.  Am I right?  The ideal situation would be for him to attend school for 3 or 4 hours and then be able to come home or do more challenging work in a small group.  But I also wish there was a debrief of sorts about his day.  Like, if I knew about the desk problem, I could suggest he make a list of what goes on each side and in what order so that he could find the items and stay organized.  Is this too minuscule of an issue to bring up?

I started to wonder whether I should have stayed home.  I knew Scott was happy I was there, but was I?

After the math lesson came a story about the girl who was Star of the Week.  The children asked her questions and the teacher wrote up sentences on a big piece of paper behind her.   When Scott was called on, he asked a question that had already been asked.  His teacher smiled and said she got a point, making a big deal out of putting a tally mark on the board.  Apparently, this is her way of emphasizing the importance of paying attention.  Scott didn't look too bothered by it, but I felt my school issues come flooding back.  I would have hated this as a child and probably wouldn't have wanted to raise my hand for fear of messing up and letting the class down.

I had a flashback to learning times tables in fifth (I think) grade.  Our teacher would play a game called Round-the-World where two children would stand up and try to answer a flashcard with a math problem.  Whoever answered got to stay standing up and the next child would get up to challenge them.  I never stood up for more than one question.  Never.  Even if I knew the answer, I wasn't confident enough to yell it out.  When I came home in tears, my mom sat with me night after night with flashcards until I finally learned my times tables.  If she had not done this, I would have never learned them.  The teaching method in school was completely ineffective for me.

Public school has to teach to the masses.  I am sure some schools and teachers are much better than others.  A friend of mine once said, "wouldn't it be great if each child had an IEP (Individualized Education Program) and the teachers had to accommodate it."  That would be fabulous but is completely unrealistic.  You can only expect so much.

Finally, finally, the teacher said, "You've been sitting on your heinies for too long.  It's time for snack."

And with that, I said goodbye to Scott and quickly made my exit.

Left Of Center

If you want me,
You can find me
Left of center off of the strip
In the outskirts and in the fringes
In the corner, out of the grip

- Suzanne Vega with Joe Jackson from Pretty in Pink

This song keeps going through my head these days.  I often feel that I am on the outskirts, on the fringe.  I am not really a writer, yet I am a blogger.  I am a SAHM but I also understand the working mother perspective from, among other things, my time spent at my parents' day care.  This feeling of being in but not really in, of sort of hanging out on the edges, has been a running theme for most of my life.  I am used to it and, for the most part, am comfortable with this position. 

I can apply this analogy to all sorts of things:  Being smart, but not super ivy-league worthy smart; being attractive enough, but not beautiful; having enough money for the decent house, but not enough to go on Disney World vacations and such; being part of the neighborhood groups but not the leader or go-to person; being in a sorority but not the A list one; etc.

The good part about being on the outskirts is that you don't get labeled.  You aren't stuck in one place or another.  I like this because I can be friends with the cool girls and also the geeks.  Flow from one group to another.  Be involved one day and not expected to be another.  I am used to this.

Enough about me, though.  The point of this post was to explain how Scott is the one on the fringe.  He is not Autistic nor is he completely NT (neurologically typical).  He doesn't qualify for the label special needs but he does have some needs that are special.  To most people he probably appears normal (I hesitate to use that word, knowing that it is relative).  His issues are not bad enough to warrant an IEP and special instruction from school.  But.  There are still things that are there.  Things that we see that others may not, or may be interpreted differently.

Sometimes we just get used to the way things are.  We give Scott a cloth napkin and things to chew.  We listen to him talk endlessly and rub his back.  We usher him away from his sister and let him throw balls against the wall in the basement.  We hope for few changes or disruptions.  We stay mostly to ourselves.

Last week we went to Scott's original OT (who now knows about this blog and has read some of it, yikes!).  She hadn't seen him in awhile, over 6 months, and was impressed with the progress that he's made.  But she was also concerned with several things.  His inability to form letters quickly from memory.  The obvious change in his alertness from when he arrived to when he was done with the session.  His excessive throat clearing.

She e-mailed me about these concerns so as not to talk too much in front of him.  I felt badly that I hadn't been better about working on his writing and helping him to self-regulate this summer.  I do some things, but it is difficult to fit it all in, especially when he isn't exactly willing.  Sure, I had noticed his throat clearing and yeah, I think it is a sign of his anxiety, just like how he has been chewing his clothes more lately.  But he's also doing so well, weathered so many changes, been able to control his temper and mood swings better.  To anticipate what might make him anxious and to maturely realize that it is temporary or to make adjustments that help himself.

So, I guess I forget a little bit about the other stuff or choose to look around it.  Of course he's more anxious, he is about to start full day school.  I'll bet there are few kids in his situation who aren't a little out of sorts now.  Who may be acting up or overly needy.  How do I know what is expected and what is too much?

We went to see a good friend and her boys last Friday (hi tac!).  When the kids were playing together I felt slightly nervous.  I know that my friend understands Scott's issues and has had her own difficulties with her kids, but it is hard to know what will happen and how his actions will be perceived.  We do not have many play dates and also do not visit with people a lot.  Scott has problems negotiating social situations and can either get wound up and destructive or pitch fits.  I get worried that he will do something wrong and feel terrible, hurt someone or break something.  He gets so excited and is then disappointed with what happens.  It seems like more than he can handle.

The visit went pretty well.  There were times when he couldn't stop himself and lost control.  He knocked over some stuff and wouldn't eat the lunch because the wet food touched the dry.  He was upset later that he couldn't ride the scooters like the other kids could.  Maybe he could if he had more practice or maybe this is a motor planning thing that is too difficult for him.  Hard to say exactly.

I remember when I first called the Parenting Consultant about Scott's pooping issues (months before we knew about his SPD) and, after explaining the current problem, she asked me if there were any other issues we needed help with.  Well, no, nothing out of the ordinary, I said.  I mean, sure he can be difficult, but isn't that just the way kids are?  I felt that whatever trouble we might have with him was par for the course.  Kids are trying.  I could read books and consult with friends.  Why would I need anyone's professional help unless the situation were desperate?

That summer of 2005, when Scott was 4, was when I began to see that he was more than just a little difficult.  Since then I have come to view him as extremely complex.  His actions often being dictated by the way he senses and experiences the world around him.  And, maybe just as often, he's completely normal.  A bright, curious, slightly anxious, energetic, six year old boy.

He will be starting first grade in two weeks.  He will, no doubt, have some trouble adjusting.  He is concerned about being away all day, about wanting to tell me things and not being able to remember them.  About lunch time and all the unknowns.  He will be reading and doing math at at least a grade level above most of his peers.  He will not be able to write or draw as well as most of the children.  He will probably get tested for the gifted program where he might qualify.  Most likely he will be right on the edge, like his mom, who squeaked by at a 130 IQ (my parents loved to tell me this to keep my ego in check).  He is smart but not a genius like these kids.

I can drive myself crazy trying to decipher where exactly he fits in.  The right place for him is in both worlds.  Somewhere on the fringe.  Mostly OK.  Not quite all the way.  Often misunderstood.  Needing extra assistance sometimes.  Ahead of the game in other ways.  Smart and athletic while also socially immature and physically awkward.  I am sure he will be able to see that his place is in between.  Hopefully, he will learn how to move fluidly from one group to another as it suits him.  And to feel good about being a little left of center.

Just like his mom.

DO Try This at Home

The kids were playing outside this morning in the driveway while I was in and out of the house.  We have a fenced in backyard but sometimes they want to play basketball or color with chalk and that can only take place on the blacktop.  I know this is a risky thing to do because they are not protected by the enclosed fence and they are exposed to the road.  But the dog was out and she would bark if anyone came by and the kids know the rules about going to the end of the driveway. 

Besides all that, I was in and out, like I said.  Putting in laundry, then getting the mail, back in for more coffee, back out to pick up dog poop.  And I had to intervene entirely too much in what was going on.   Scott, you cannot throw the ball at her.  Work it out kids.  Jane, move away from under the basketball net if you don't want to get hit.  Scott, give her back her chalk.  Now what?  Why is someone crying? 

At one point I went outside and didn't see Scott.  I called for him and he sheepishly appeared from behind the car that was parked in the garage.  "What are you doing?"  I interrogated him.  He said he was sad but then wouldn't explain why.  I lost my patience and screamed, "GET IN THE HOUSE, NOW!!!"

Neither kid moved.  "NOW! NOW! FAST! RUN!!!"  I yelled.  The kids looked at me, but still did not move.

I stared at them.  They stared back at me.  I screamed like a raving lunatic.  "GET IN THE HOUSE!!  RUN!"

Finally, Scott walked slowly toward me.  Jane still stood by her chalk.  I continued to yell at her and wave my arms with the universal "come here" circle toward me.  Eventually, she walked into the garage and then the laundry room.

I was dazed and beyond angry.  Why didn't they come inside when I told them to?  Are they so used to me hollering that they don't notice?  Did they figure whatever evil might be lurking outside was better than their crazy mom inside the house?  What if some lunatic with a gun was out there and they just stood like statues in the driveway while I screamed?  Or do they know that I would have reacted differently, quietly grabbing them instead of yelling?

All I know for sure is that I felt completely powerless.  In a real emergency, I think my kids would be totally inept.

And it would be because of me.

So we had a big talk.  You know about how they need to do what I say especially if it is clear that I am hysterical.  Act first, question later.  Scott said, "But no one was out there".  Right.  But what if they were?  I now know that he has a false sense of security. 

I might need to do an experiment like Lynette on Desperate Housewives did.  Where she sent one of her coworkers to her house to see how gullible her kids were.  They walked right up to the car and would have been abducted in a second. 

Are my kids like that or is it just about me?  The mom who seems to have lost my position as credible authority.

Maybe I should come up with a secret word like "Shazam" that means "get your ass in the house as fast as humanly possible" in case of an emergency.

Or perhaps I need to just chill out.  I mean, would you have come running if someone was screaming at you?

Also, I named this post DO try this at home because I was going to include the story of my quest to join the "I Do Follow" movement, but I am still not done hunting down and replacing code.  Alas, maybe tomorrow.