Wednesday, May 23, 2012

A Startle

Every time I step out on the back patio, I get a jolt.  First, because there is the face out there.  Second, because it looks like my good pot has been painted.  It really hasn't been painted.  EM put painter's tape on it.

 So, today, I stopped and decided to pull the tape off.  As I looked at it closely, I see that EM took some time to carefully draw out the eyes, nose, and mouth.  So I decided to leave the face alone.  And, yes, I have already told him that it startled me, so he is satisfied.  But don't you think the nose is upside down?

Monday, May 7, 2012

Middle School Moment


Middle school.  First day of sixth grade, but first you need some background.

AT attended a private preschool and kindergarten.  It was a magical place and was just around the corner from our house.  We often walked to or from school.  The children had to go outside every day for at least a little while to play no matter what the weather. We were encouraged to send them in old clothes so they could get dirty.  Children were allow to climb high in trees, as long as they could get themselves down.  The kindergarten teacher told me she was relieved when the big kindergarteners were leaving at the end of their school year because they almost reached her fear limit.  There were bicycles to ride, zip lines and rope swings to use.  The kids rode on a trailer in parades.   They had hay rides in our neighborhood.  They ran from the mythical "killer beaver" that lived in our creek.  If the city schools were out for snow, the school was open for sledding on the property.  On a snow day, I asked the teacher if she worried about the blades on sleds hurting someone, and she replied, "Oh, they have on thick clothes."  We loved this school.

Then first grade.  It was also within walking distance from our house.  It was a small public elementary school, with a great reputation, with only two classrooms per grade.  I was working where I work now - at a rural school 17 miles from our house.  I could have chosen for AT to attend school with me or stay in town.  Our town has good schools and I was determined that she would stay in town.  I wanted to have every chance to meet as many parents as possible so I would be ready for high school.

So I started AT in school in town with great hopes.  It was first grade.  She did not learn to read in kindergarten, but she had some good skills.  She could not have had more exposure to books.  At home, we usually read books twice a day.  She loved being read to.  She could rhyme words at age 3.  She knew her letters and sounds.  She was ready to go. 

But we hit the perfect storm.  Her first teacher quit after one month of school.  Her second teacher was an entry-year teacher.  The class was heavily weighted with special needs students.  If you have read my blog very many times, you know that I am a strong proponent of inclusion with special needs students, but this class was too heavily weighted with special needs students, behavior problems, and gifted readers.  My child was in the middle of the class and getting no attention at all.  I wanted to be relaxed about her learning to read.  She would do it on her own time.  But I was increasingly concerned at the school year progressed.  When I talked to the teacher, she did not seem to be concerned or have any suggestions.  How could my child, immersed  in reading as she had been, not be progressing more?  Should I be freaking out or relaxed?   Was she not learning to read because of poor instruction or because she had a true learning disability?  It was surely not because of lack of exposure at home.  By the end of the year, I wasn't the only one stressed.  AT was having physical symptoms, health problems, often crying when I dropped her off at school.  Something was stressing her and something had to change.

So, after fretting for months, I took her out of school and put her in my school for the last month of school.  By that point, I did not care what she learned.  I just wanted her to enjoy school.  Within two days, her new teacher sent home words that she needed to learn to read.  I realized I was just given the first piece of prescriptive information to work on at home.  This had not happened in her old classroom, in spite of my expressing my concern several times to the teacher.

On to second grade...at my school.  She was still behind in reading.  Her second grade teacher that year told me that, if she had not been my child (meaning she thought we would work at home), that she would have recommended that AT return to first grade.  And within 9 weeks, she was reading on the second grade level.  You decide:  maturation, or poor instruction.  We'll never know.

AT continued at my school until she completed elementary school.  The reading problem never appeared again.  I'm so glad we had those years together, all those rides together back and forth to school.  Inside the school,  AT's and my relationship was somewhat formal.  In general, she can be a very independent being.   If I passed her in line, we would smile and wave, but just as I wave at any other student.  However, there were a few moments when  "mean" girls were overwhelming and she ran to me after school and climbed up in my lap for comfort.  My heart hurt at the time, but now, I'm filled with thankfulness that I had those precious moments. 

The plan had always been for AT to return to the town school system for middle school.  My rationale was that, in high school, the larger school would provide more variety for AT's creative intelligence, her strength.   AT was very happy at my school and had many friends, so the summer after fifth grade, she was very frustrated with me.  Well, not frustrated.  Mad.  All summer, when people congratulated her on moving to middle school, she let her feelings be known.  "My mom is making me change schools.". I stayed firm.  She changed.

Now...back to middle school.  First day of school.  This was emotionally our Kindergarten year, at least in my mind.  Her true Kindergarten year and first grade were long past.  She had been with me at school for the past five years.  Now I was sending her off with strangers.  She was growing up too fast.  She was still frustrated with me for making her change schools.  We wandered around outside the school, looking for the sixth grade gathering area, then looking for the line for her homeroom teacher.  She said, "Don't leave me!"  I assured her I wouldn't until we found the right line.   Ahh, there it was.  I heard a teacher announce her teacher's name.  She was in the right line and I was about to cry.  I quickly told her.   "I'll be here to pick you up after school.  Love you." and turned away.  I did not turn back to look since I did not want her to see me cry.  I was about 50 feet away and I felt a hand on my arm.  I turned.  It was her, coming for one last "Love you."  She said, "Love you.  Are you crying?"  "Love you and no."  We both turned away and went on with our day.





Saturday, May 5, 2012

Our Saturday

Marathoners, bikers, bicyclists, yard workers, toddlers, vintage cars, convertibles, everyone was out this morning at 8 AM.  It was a softly windy day, perfect temperatures.  We started our day at Midway Grocery.  AT was required to come with us, and, after she saw the unique grocery store/deli, she was charmed and interested in our day.  Midway is where EM's car club usually meets every Saturday.  Here below she is asking her dad if she can tell the old gentleman nearby that smoking is bad for his health.  She knew her dad would say no, but loved the opportunity to torment dad.

Midway is where the club usually meets on Saturday mornings; however, today it was just the starting point.  We headed our 10 car caravan, hot rods, street rods, vintage cars, south on Route 77 to a vintage airplane show.  We thought there was also going to be a car show, but there wasn't until our group showed up and drove through the barriers, parking next to the airstrip.
On the right is EM, admiring his car.  He loves it so.


The airplanes were fascinating and tiny.  I have only been up in a small plane once or twice.  For a while, planes were landing every 10 minutes.  Except for the heat of the day, which was certainly climbing by noon, I could have watched them all day.  


We heard that the planes used 25 gallons per hour.  Is this true?  Between the small interiors and the expensive gas, we decided that we would rather be in a Buick convertible.

Then, joy, we did some destination dining, one of my favorite hobbies.
EM and I had catfish.  I really wanted the BBQ, but am trying to be more determined about eating better EVEN IN A RESTAURANT!  I know fried catfish is not super healthy, but isn't it better than my first love, BBQ?  I did not have fries!  

We were home by 1:30 and AT ventured off to spend the night with a friend.  Tonight, EM, the convertible and myself are off at 10:30 to see the moon!

Have you noticed that I have photos for the first time in my blog?  No telling what long-winded photo-heavy blogs will be posted this summer when I am out of school.  Maybe there will be photos of the moon.  Don't expect much.  My photography skills and camera are not very powerful.