Wow! I really never thought these two would ever start to get along...but I did suspect that the little one would one day be bigger than the big one.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
MJ and the Zombie Ballerina
Wow! I really never thought these two would ever start to get along...but I did suspect that the little one would one day be bigger than the big one.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Cussing Moms and Sticker Charts
Lately I've been taking the time to read at a blog, which may have put me off in the past. Nah...probably not. Well, maybe a little. There has been some discussion there, about her use of cuss words in her blog posts. I'm not writing this post to comment on that, or to agree or disagree with some of her commenters. I'm just writing this post because reading her blog got a few thoughts kicking around in my head, and that's what usually inspires me to write something down. (So thanks Corey, for getting the dendrites moving.)
I am also writing about sticker charts, because I have seldom experienced such a united sentiment of venom and disdain from the adoption community, than when one mentions the words "sticker chart". Someone should definitely warn the mental health community. Apparently I radiate a certain aura which clearly communicates that I am not a woman to be trifled with, and I have never had a sticker chart suggested to me.
Come to think of it, I think the two things might just go hand in hand. First, because the phrase, "Have you thought of trying a sticker chart?" makes most adoptive moms want to let loose a string of profanity, and second, because both the irrational hatred of sticker charts and the desire to cuss, are expressions of the depths of frustration with which we live each day.
First, my thoughts on sticker charts, first thought when I was a small child. Sticker charts are lame. What is so cool about having to do something HARD, and then "getting" to mark this labor with a sticker? Just give me candy or cash, and maybe we can talk. Yet... sticker charts can be mildly satisfying to an overachiever, because one does understand that a sea of stickers on one's chart, does signify superiority over lowly children with only a neat, modest row of stickers. Of course there is my son, who had his own thoughts on sticker charts. To him, each unfilled blank spot represented an absolute necessity to do a chore, or memorize a verse. Call it an obsession. It ate at him into the night, and he would move heaven and earth, and run over the top of you to get the job done, and get the last sticker neatly seated in its little box. And then he would be done and never think of it again.
Sticker charts make my adopted children yawn, as well they should. They made me yawn when I was a child. Rewarding them with stickers for doing things they DO NOT WANT TO DO seems, well, ridiculous. And telling them that if they accumulate a number of stickers, qualifies them for a reward? Yawn. Unless the reward is I NEVER HAVE TO DO WHAT I DON'T WANT TO DO, don't call me...I'll call you.
Here's how it works in my world. I don't need a sticker chart to remember whether my children are behaving themselves. I am a Mom with a memory like a steel trap. When you do good things that please me, it's like all these shiny star stickers are scattered in my mind. And when you do things that tick me off, it's like someone is digging the shiny stars off with their fingernails. When I look at you I generally see a combination of shiny stars and messy spots where you have been ripping the stars off. Your reward is often tied to how I feel about this state of affairs. Sorry, child of mine, if you don't like it, but that's the way it works with human beings. In fact, it has been proven that my ability to form the word y-e-s, is directly related to the shiny stars and scratchy spots. So maybe I do believe in sticker charts after all.
On to the cussing. I don't generally do it. I don't do it when I blog, or when I write, for that matter. First and foremost, I am completely against using words that are offensive to the awesomeness and beauty of God. But most cuss words don't fall in this category. They are in fact, simply vulgarities. The way they are used in a sentence often seems to defy all rules of grammar or even their generally accepted definitions. Really when you think of it, the way most people commonly swear is downright comical if you translate the statements into non-swear words. My personal opinion about these sorts of swear words, are that they are like exclamation marks. I don't generally use them all that much either, when I write. As my children will testify, this homeschool mom does not allow the use of them. Use words to convey strong emotion, not a string of exclamation marks. In our house, the use of vulgarity will likely result in the same sort of chastisement as the excessive use of exclamation marks; that is to say, you will receive a poor grade, which may result in undesirable consequences.
And now I must confess. Sometimes I have a potty mouth. Sometimes the stuff I deal with is the stuff that elicits strong emotion. But I can't use words to express that, because it would tear down a lot of what I am working so hard to build up. It would make people who don't deal with this sort of stuff stare at me aghast, even if I used the most eloquent words and my best punctuation. So sometimes, not on my blog, and generally not in front of my children or in polite company, I use a cuss word to express my extreme frustration. If I were to write it down here, it would probably have a string of exclamation marks after it. I'm not necessarily proud of it, but I don't lose sleep over it either.
I am also writing about sticker charts, because I have seldom experienced such a united sentiment of venom and disdain from the adoption community, than when one mentions the words "sticker chart". Someone should definitely warn the mental health community. Apparently I radiate a certain aura which clearly communicates that I am not a woman to be trifled with, and I have never had a sticker chart suggested to me.
Come to think of it, I think the two things might just go hand in hand. First, because the phrase, "Have you thought of trying a sticker chart?" makes most adoptive moms want to let loose a string of profanity, and second, because both the irrational hatred of sticker charts and the desire to cuss, are expressions of the depths of frustration with which we live each day.
First, my thoughts on sticker charts, first thought when I was a small child. Sticker charts are lame. What is so cool about having to do something HARD, and then "getting" to mark this labor with a sticker? Just give me candy or cash, and maybe we can talk. Yet... sticker charts can be mildly satisfying to an overachiever, because one does understand that a sea of stickers on one's chart, does signify superiority over lowly children with only a neat, modest row of stickers. Of course there is my son, who had his own thoughts on sticker charts. To him, each unfilled blank spot represented an absolute necessity to do a chore, or memorize a verse. Call it an obsession. It ate at him into the night, and he would move heaven and earth, and run over the top of you to get the job done, and get the last sticker neatly seated in its little box. And then he would be done and never think of it again.
Sticker charts make my adopted children yawn, as well they should. They made me yawn when I was a child. Rewarding them with stickers for doing things they DO NOT WANT TO DO seems, well, ridiculous. And telling them that if they accumulate a number of stickers, qualifies them for a reward? Yawn. Unless the reward is I NEVER HAVE TO DO WHAT I DON'T WANT TO DO, don't call me...I'll call you.
Here's how it works in my world. I don't need a sticker chart to remember whether my children are behaving themselves. I am a Mom with a memory like a steel trap. When you do good things that please me, it's like all these shiny star stickers are scattered in my mind. And when you do things that tick me off, it's like someone is digging the shiny stars off with their fingernails. When I look at you I generally see a combination of shiny stars and messy spots where you have been ripping the stars off. Your reward is often tied to how I feel about this state of affairs. Sorry, child of mine, if you don't like it, but that's the way it works with human beings. In fact, it has been proven that my ability to form the word y-e-s, is directly related to the shiny stars and scratchy spots. So maybe I do believe in sticker charts after all.
On to the cussing. I don't generally do it. I don't do it when I blog, or when I write, for that matter. First and foremost, I am completely against using words that are offensive to the awesomeness and beauty of God. But most cuss words don't fall in this category. They are in fact, simply vulgarities. The way they are used in a sentence often seems to defy all rules of grammar or even their generally accepted definitions. Really when you think of it, the way most people commonly swear is downright comical if you translate the statements into non-swear words. My personal opinion about these sorts of swear words, are that they are like exclamation marks. I don't generally use them all that much either, when I write. As my children will testify, this homeschool mom does not allow the use of them. Use words to convey strong emotion, not a string of exclamation marks. In our house, the use of vulgarity will likely result in the same sort of chastisement as the excessive use of exclamation marks; that is to say, you will receive a poor grade, which may result in undesirable consequences.
And now I must confess. Sometimes I have a potty mouth. Sometimes the stuff I deal with is the stuff that elicits strong emotion. But I can't use words to express that, because it would tear down a lot of what I am working so hard to build up. It would make people who don't deal with this sort of stuff stare at me aghast, even if I used the most eloquent words and my best punctuation. So sometimes, not on my blog, and generally not in front of my children or in polite company, I use a cuss word to express my extreme frustration. If I were to write it down here, it would probably have a string of exclamation marks after it. I'm not necessarily proud of it, but I don't lose sleep over it either.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Family Needed
Go to this blog and read about this little boy. Maybe you or someone you know can help. Maybe you can pray for him and his family.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
How We Roll...
We have a child who struggles in school; not that she struggles to succeed, but that she contends heartily with anyone who tries to make her do her work. She is the queen of "I didn't know" and "I forgot". If she would use a tenth of the energy she uses trying to outsmart her teachers and parents to do her work, she would pass her classes without breaking a sweat. And now she is a teen, and firmly ensconced at the high school, where teachers tend to expect students to be responsible for themselves.
Here is what we do. When she arrives home in the afternoons, she is expected to sit down in the appointed place and work on her homework. There is always work to do, even if it is just review, or extra reading, or an ongoing project. This spot is quiet, and away from the distractions of siblings and any sort of electronics. Mom is at hand if she gets hung up on something. In addition, Mom and Dad have forged regular email contact with teachers, watch school websites for homework info and grades, and are learning the normal routine and regular assignments for most classes. Later, family dinner is served. After dinner, children are free to have their turn in the bath, finish up homework, and engage in quiet activities until bedtime. There is no television or video games allowed on school nights.
Our evenings on school nights are quiet, low key, and geared toward homework, family time, and preparation for the following day. Each morning the children rise with a minimum of prompting, get dressed in clothes laid out and approved the night before, eat breakfast together, have morning prayer, and depart for school with very little fuss or muss, since all the work was done before they retired the night before. Our daughters like this method, because it is highly structured and leaves nothing to chance. They understand what is expected of them, and they do it. They don't ever have to ask if their lunch is packed, clothing is clean, papers signed, homework complete. It always is. They generally leave for school in a tranquil state of mind.
So how in the world can one of these children be failing at school? Because she wants to. Because no matter how much structure and support a family tries to put in place, a child can still choose to fail. They can decide not to do their classwork and homework. They can lie at school about what goes on at home, and lie at home about what goes on at school. They can sit in their homework spot and take three long hours to complete twenty minutes of work. They can pretend they don't understand the material, and write so sloppily that no one can decipher their answers. They can use the toilet every ten minutes, and break their pencil lead in between.
And I am not going to sing the opera I normally sing. I am not going to get drawn into the battle this year. I am just going to keep cooking meals and packing lunches. I'll wash clothes and sign permission slips. I'll check school websites and email teachers encouraging notes. I'll keep the homework spot quiet and stay close by in case I'm needed. And she will fail, and I will feel badly about it. Those parts I can't really change. Pretty much the only part I can decide is whether I will yell and holler, and if I want an ulcer. And I won't, and I don't.
Here is what we do. When she arrives home in the afternoons, she is expected to sit down in the appointed place and work on her homework. There is always work to do, even if it is just review, or extra reading, or an ongoing project. This spot is quiet, and away from the distractions of siblings and any sort of electronics. Mom is at hand if she gets hung up on something. In addition, Mom and Dad have forged regular email contact with teachers, watch school websites for homework info and grades, and are learning the normal routine and regular assignments for most classes. Later, family dinner is served. After dinner, children are free to have their turn in the bath, finish up homework, and engage in quiet activities until bedtime. There is no television or video games allowed on school nights.
Our evenings on school nights are quiet, low key, and geared toward homework, family time, and preparation for the following day. Each morning the children rise with a minimum of prompting, get dressed in clothes laid out and approved the night before, eat breakfast together, have morning prayer, and depart for school with very little fuss or muss, since all the work was done before they retired the night before. Our daughters like this method, because it is highly structured and leaves nothing to chance. They understand what is expected of them, and they do it. They don't ever have to ask if their lunch is packed, clothing is clean, papers signed, homework complete. It always is. They generally leave for school in a tranquil state of mind.
So how in the world can one of these children be failing at school? Because she wants to. Because no matter how much structure and support a family tries to put in place, a child can still choose to fail. They can decide not to do their classwork and homework. They can lie at school about what goes on at home, and lie at home about what goes on at school. They can sit in their homework spot and take three long hours to complete twenty minutes of work. They can pretend they don't understand the material, and write so sloppily that no one can decipher their answers. They can use the toilet every ten minutes, and break their pencil lead in between.
And I am not going to sing the opera I normally sing. I am not going to get drawn into the battle this year. I am just going to keep cooking meals and packing lunches. I'll wash clothes and sign permission slips. I'll check school websites and email teachers encouraging notes. I'll keep the homework spot quiet and stay close by in case I'm needed. And she will fail, and I will feel badly about it. Those parts I can't really change. Pretty much the only part I can decide is whether I will yell and holler, and if I want an ulcer. And I won't, and I don't.
Friday, September 25, 2009
"...gently in Thy fire I will lie burning;
On Thy potter's wheel I will whirl patient..."
George MacDonald
Sunday, August 23, 2009
The Most Wonderful Time...
I remember a television commercial, back in the days when my homegrown children were small and precious. It played the Christmas song "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year," while parents frolicked and rode carts through a store, gleefully throwing school supplies into their carts, and the children trudged miserably behind them. I thought it was horrible. I couldn't understand why any parent would be happy to see their little ones depart the nest. I just knew I would never feel that way.
And now I find myself humming the same little tune, counting days, and thinking about riding on my shopping cart. Yes, the girlies are going to school this year, and yes, I am happy about it. Well, kind of. I'm sad because I would prefer to have them at home, but I would also prefer a whole lot of other things that definitely aren't going to happen. My first choice definitely is to homeschool, but after almost three years of enormous effort, I have concluded that my girls do not want to be homeschooled. They demonstrate this by their complete disregard for us as their parents...and quite frankly, if your child does not regard you as their parent, and respect your authority, I do not recommend trying to homeschool them. Not unless you enjoy activities like beating your head against walls.
So we are sending them off to school this week, two to the public school, and one to the little private school she went to a year ago. Again...not my first choice, or even my second for that matter, since I would love to send all three to the private school. But alas, Boo is too old for the private school which only goes to grade eight, and LaLa has burned her bridges there, shall we say. They really can't, and shouldn't have to try, to manage her special needs and her not so special behaviors. So it is what it is, and these are the choices we are left with.
To be fair, the folks at the public school have been very kind, and are scrambling to come up with a good plan for both girls. I am hopeful that we will find this to be a positive experience. Of course Boo is getting nervous, so her angry behaviors are ramping up, but she is a smart girl with limitless potential. The school was impressed with her work samples, and feels she can be an excellent student. LaLa is delighted at the new and endless opportunities school will offer her to make bad choices. I tried not to laugh, or even snort when they gave her the pep talk about how she would have to be responsible for herself...behaving, getting to class, writing down assignments, doing her homework. But we'll see. Maybe for once, she'll take the help offered and run with it. Of course we'll have to be careful not to get run down by any of those flying pigs on the way to the bus stop.
'Tater, on the other hand, is thrilled to be going back to her little school, her beloved teacher, her familiar classmates. This time, she will return a grade level ahead, all caught up, having worked very hard to accomplish it. I am happy for her. I am also happy she is going alone, unencumbered and unembarrassed by her sisters' endless behaviors. 'Tater is a quiet girl with a quirky sense of humor, a good student and very eager to please. I suspect she will do very well.
The first day of school comes even before the last days of camp wind down. At the end of it all, the camp gifts us with two weeks of "Stillness", which is really comp time for the crazy hours of the summer season. It will be less than still, since I have a LIST, but I won't start school with the boys until it's over. We'll see the girls off to school in the mornings, and then we'll work and play hard for a few weeks. It will give us time to reconnect with the boys, get caught up on a million things that get neglected all summer, and maybe even slip away by ourselves for a night.
By the end of Stillness I plan to:
And now I find myself humming the same little tune, counting days, and thinking about riding on my shopping cart. Yes, the girlies are going to school this year, and yes, I am happy about it. Well, kind of. I'm sad because I would prefer to have them at home, but I would also prefer a whole lot of other things that definitely aren't going to happen. My first choice definitely is to homeschool, but after almost three years of enormous effort, I have concluded that my girls do not want to be homeschooled. They demonstrate this by their complete disregard for us as their parents...and quite frankly, if your child does not regard you as their parent, and respect your authority, I do not recommend trying to homeschool them. Not unless you enjoy activities like beating your head against walls.
So we are sending them off to school this week, two to the public school, and one to the little private school she went to a year ago. Again...not my first choice, or even my second for that matter, since I would love to send all three to the private school. But alas, Boo is too old for the private school which only goes to grade eight, and LaLa has burned her bridges there, shall we say. They really can't, and shouldn't have to try, to manage her special needs and her not so special behaviors. So it is what it is, and these are the choices we are left with.
To be fair, the folks at the public school have been very kind, and are scrambling to come up with a good plan for both girls. I am hopeful that we will find this to be a positive experience. Of course Boo is getting nervous, so her angry behaviors are ramping up, but she is a smart girl with limitless potential. The school was impressed with her work samples, and feels she can be an excellent student. LaLa is delighted at the new and endless opportunities school will offer her to make bad choices. I tried not to laugh, or even snort when they gave her the pep talk about how she would have to be responsible for herself...behaving, getting to class, writing down assignments, doing her homework. But we'll see. Maybe for once, she'll take the help offered and run with it. Of course we'll have to be careful not to get run down by any of those flying pigs on the way to the bus stop.
'Tater, on the other hand, is thrilled to be going back to her little school, her beloved teacher, her familiar classmates. This time, she will return a grade level ahead, all caught up, having worked very hard to accomplish it. I am happy for her. I am also happy she is going alone, unencumbered and unembarrassed by her sisters' endless behaviors. 'Tater is a quiet girl with a quirky sense of humor, a good student and very eager to please. I suspect she will do very well.
The first day of school comes even before the last days of camp wind down. At the end of it all, the camp gifts us with two weeks of "Stillness", which is really comp time for the crazy hours of the summer season. It will be less than still, since I have a LIST, but I won't start school with the boys until it's over. We'll see the girls off to school in the mornings, and then we'll work and play hard for a few weeks. It will give us time to reconnect with the boys, get caught up on a million things that get neglected all summer, and maybe even slip away by ourselves for a night.
By the end of Stillness I plan to:
- Get the girls settled into their school routine
- Reconnect with the boys
- Finish the LIST
- Be ready to begin the school year with the boys
- Have a few laughs with my darling husband
It seems like a good plan, and I'm going to work hard to make it happen. We are also employing some new behavioral strategies with the girls, which I may report on later. So far the results have been interesting to say the least. I'll save that for another day.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
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