Yesterday closed the fastest 10 years of my life as my older son turned 10. We sat two pews behind a young couple with a new baby girl in church, and I wanted to lean up and poke the mother when the baby started chewing on her tiny fists. Any mom who's been there knows it's chow time.
It's amazing how immediate that knowledge remains, even when the time is long since past.
I'm sitting here with the sunlight flooding in my windows, overwhelmed with feelings, thoughts, and gratitude. I find myself thinking on a woman long dead as part of her lives on. I look back on my life and motherhood with a grateful heart. And I laugh a little bit about how I look to the rest of the world.
Case in point. At 7:55 this morning I sat filling out forms and labels while directing my 6-year-old on a project he needed to finish today. Hubby is yelling at me for my procrastination. Nic is yelling down that he has no clean underwear. I stuff G's work and papers into his bookbag as he is running for the bus. I hastily finish Nic's paperwork, stuff everything into his bookbag, and race to the computer to ask when would be a good time to drop off Nic's birthday brownies? And by the way, I haven't baked them, yet.
HIs teacher shoots me an almost instantaneous reply, that they will be at the planetarium until 10:30.
Clock ticks. I pull a brownie recipe off the Internet and get to work.
The brownies are done shortly after 10. I throw on some clothes, cover the pan with tin foil, grab some potholders and head out.
I still have ice on my windshield, but I figure it will melt off.
I pull into the school parking lot, moving the van slowly and cautiously. However, I fail to take that kind of precaution stepping out of the van and land hard on my left side.
The first thing I did was look around to make sure no one saw my spill. Then I thanked God that I didn't grab the brownies first, or they would have become crow food.
The front office lets me in, then promises to deliver the brownies. I hear some one joke "If they make it there!"
The secretary looks surprised when I hand her the potholdered pan. "Still warm? Nice."
The only reason they are still warm is because I am just not that organized.
But I know Nic will appreciate them. That's why I do it.
And all he has to do is clean up his room when he gets home. I figure it's a fair trade.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
A Quiet Mind
I just spent the last hour clearing off the front walk and driveway in the silence of the falling snow. I get tired of getting stuck indoors and like the workout that comes with clearing snow.
The rest of my family, however, are changelings. Two of three of them are sitting in front of computer screens; the third is upstairs reading to himself at top volume.
Just wanted to look back at the week and admire my older boy--first-time member of his IEP team this week. He told me he was done OT on Tuesday night; I asked him if he was prepared to tell the team himself at Wednesday's meeting. He said yes.
I emailed ahead. Not thinking too hard about the eyerolls that email generated.
Anyway, Nic did great; he signed in, said his piece, and both the data and the OT herself supported his position. OT consult written in, session to be replaced with cross-discipline work in inferencing and problem-solving.
A few loose ends remain, but I sent an email out to his team to address those.
G didn't qualify for ESY. I think I am actually okay with that.
I finished my project, emailed it, and have to think about what I will be doing next. A path is suggesting itself, but I have to do some due diligence before I pursue it. Trolling for some writing and training in the meantime.
Oddly, the way ahead seems quiet, but I am okay with that. I'll be poised, listening, waiting for instruction.
The rest of my family, however, are changelings. Two of three of them are sitting in front of computer screens; the third is upstairs reading to himself at top volume.
Just wanted to look back at the week and admire my older boy--first-time member of his IEP team this week. He told me he was done OT on Tuesday night; I asked him if he was prepared to tell the team himself at Wednesday's meeting. He said yes.
I emailed ahead. Not thinking too hard about the eyerolls that email generated.
Anyway, Nic did great; he signed in, said his piece, and both the data and the OT herself supported his position. OT consult written in, session to be replaced with cross-discipline work in inferencing and problem-solving.
A few loose ends remain, but I sent an email out to his team to address those.
G didn't qualify for ESY. I think I am actually okay with that.
I finished my project, emailed it, and have to think about what I will be doing next. A path is suggesting itself, but I have to do some due diligence before I pursue it. Trolling for some writing and training in the meantime.
Oddly, the way ahead seems quiet, but I am okay with that. I'll be poised, listening, waiting for instruction.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Driving Where Life Takes You
So on my way out to give my talk today, I had to stop and pay off a bill that was delinquent (the usual story about hubby and I thinking the other paid it). I needed to make a slight deviation from my route, but no matter, I had a way of getting back on it from my errand.
I thought I did, anyway. I was well through and past the intersection I should have turned before it occurred to me that I was heading to a different destination.
No matter. I made the next right and figured that would eventually take me where I needed to go.
And I couldn't have planned a more serendipitous ride. I had no idea there was still this much open space in Eastern Montgomery County. I enjoyed the relief from the usual house-farm/strip mall helter skelter development that marks much of suburbia. And the quiet landscape allowed me to focus on the talk I was to give about parenting, advocacy and my own story.
I never plan my talks so much as sketch out an outline. Usually, the feeling of the room tells me what stories I need to tell. And I had plenty to share.
As I stood in front of the class of girls (all born well after I graduated high school and probably even college), it occurred to me that I was exactly where I needed to be at this particular moment of my life.
I liked the teacher. She challenged me and some of the decisions I made, and a couple of the more adventurous students asked whether I would recommend my methods and considerations to other parents.
My last slide answered that question: One size does NOT fit all. Individualized Education Plans are JUST THAT.
And I said that if you had 15 or 20 different parents up here, they would have 15 or 20 different stories. Our journeys are as unique and as individual as our kids.
One thing I would add here, and this is something I have meditated on at great length. It's damned hard to be a teacher today. Many parents expect teachers to raise their kids for them. I'm not making a judgment, just an observation. And that was the thesis that launched my talk; it is more difficult to teach now than it was 30 years ago, because much, much more is required of you.
And expected of you. Whether fair or not, I know it's true.
I have been phenomenally lucky in that Nic has had such dedicated teachers who believe in him. That's all I want for any kid. Some one who is invested in his or her success. In his or her future.
So to all the teachers out there, I salute you. And thank you.
I thought I did, anyway. I was well through and past the intersection I should have turned before it occurred to me that I was heading to a different destination.
No matter. I made the next right and figured that would eventually take me where I needed to go.
And I couldn't have planned a more serendipitous ride. I had no idea there was still this much open space in Eastern Montgomery County. I enjoyed the relief from the usual house-farm/strip mall helter skelter development that marks much of suburbia. And the quiet landscape allowed me to focus on the talk I was to give about parenting, advocacy and my own story.
I never plan my talks so much as sketch out an outline. Usually, the feeling of the room tells me what stories I need to tell. And I had plenty to share.
As I stood in front of the class of girls (all born well after I graduated high school and probably even college), it occurred to me that I was exactly where I needed to be at this particular moment of my life.
I liked the teacher. She challenged me and some of the decisions I made, and a couple of the more adventurous students asked whether I would recommend my methods and considerations to other parents.
My last slide answered that question: One size does NOT fit all. Individualized Education Plans are JUST THAT.
And I said that if you had 15 or 20 different parents up here, they would have 15 or 20 different stories. Our journeys are as unique and as individual as our kids.
One thing I would add here, and this is something I have meditated on at great length. It's damned hard to be a teacher today. Many parents expect teachers to raise their kids for them. I'm not making a judgment, just an observation. And that was the thesis that launched my talk; it is more difficult to teach now than it was 30 years ago, because much, much more is required of you.
And expected of you. Whether fair or not, I know it's true.
I have been phenomenally lucky in that Nic has had such dedicated teachers who believe in him. That's all I want for any kid. Some one who is invested in his or her success. In his or her future.
So to all the teachers out there, I salute you. And thank you.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Special Guest Today!
About two months ago, an old friend I reconnected with on Facebook asked if I'd be interested in taking part of a blog tour. We chatted online, and as a result, I'm happy to be taking part in the Sydney Taylor Book Award Blog Tour today!
Seeing as I talk about nearly everything else here, this seemed to be fair game, and in the process, I got to know a wonderful writer. Today I am happy to introduce her to you. Her name is Jacqueline Jules, author of Benjamin and the Silver Goblet, silver medalist in the STBA young readers category.
EL: As a writer, it's fair to say that your subject matter somehow chooses you, rather than the other way around. How and where did you get your start as a 'professional' writer? (in this case, 'professional' means actually getting paid for what you produce--I believe anyone who writes as a mean to communicate can call themselves a writer!)
JJ: My first children’s book The Grey Striped Shirt was published in 1995. Before that, I had published poetry, short stories, book reviews, and local newspaper articles. In grade school and high school, I dreamed of being a writer, but I didn’t actually do much writing. In college, I got a B.A. in writing and became more diligent about actually putting words down on paper. I have been writing seriously now for over thirty years. But while I do make some income as a writer, I can’t really support myself as a writer. Right now, it is more accurate to call me a “published author” rather than “a professional writer.” (Though I wouldn’t be disappointed if that status changed one day.)
Your excellent definition of a writer—anyone who writes as a mean to communicate—really intrigues me. In our society, everybody needs the skills of a writer. The ability to write an effective business e-mail is essential in the workplace. In my current teaching job, I am a writing coach. Though I do some whole class lessons, I spend most of my time one-on-one, helping individual students express themselves in written form. Last October, I participated in The National Day on Writing. This day, created by the National Council of Teachers of English was designed to call attention to the importance of writing in everyday life. At my elementary school, classrooms brainstormed to come up with lists of all the different ways people use writing in their lives and their jobs. I compiled those ideas into a long scroll of over eighty-five unique items and wrote about this eye-opening lesson at Schoolwide Blog.
Writing is not a talent reserved for authors and journalists. It is a means of communication everyone needs to succeed in contemporary life.
EL: I see we share a common love of puzzles and the use of such as a metaphor as a way to describe your writing process! But what particular ideas set the process in motion for you?
JJ: I am a person who loves to play with words. They spin in my head until I can arrange them in an order that pleases me. Some people are passionate about gardening or birding or cooking. I am passionate about words. And just about any activity can trigger a writing project for me. I think of ideas while I am driving, taking a walk, doing dishes, taking a shower, reading a book or the news. Conversations with friends come back to me at a later time and inspire poems. A student or teacher can ask me a question that makes me decide to write a story on that topic. I don’t run out of ideas. I run out of time and energy to pursue all the ideas I have. Writing calms my psyche. Especially poetry. When I write a poem, I often cage thoughts that have been nagging me. Behind the bars of a poem, troubled feelings can be contained and tamed. It’s my adult method of self-soothing, like a pacifier or a thumb.
EL: What challenges do you face as a writer? Meaning: what are those things that stand in your way when you have a particular idea you want to get across?
JJ: It can often take a very long time to get a story or an idea right. I often think of my first drafts as caterpillars, crawling creatures hungrily nibbling on leaves. Sometimes those first drafts need to spend months or years in the cocoon stage until they emerge as wet butterflies, ready to learn how to fly. Every time I re-write a story or a poem, I am more pleased with it. I enjoy the process of rearranging words to tell the same story in a better way. However, it can also be discouraging to re-write something for years and years, hoping that this time it will connect with an editor and have the opportunity to find readers.
EL: I love that faith is an overarching theme in your work. Is that by design or happenstance?
JJ: Many of my ideas for books have grown out of my work as an educator. For many years, I worked in Jewish education. I wrote Once Upon a Shabbos, my first story for Jewish preschoolers, to perform at a Tot Shabbat service. The Hardest Word, the first book in a series about the giant mythological bird, the Ziz, was written for a family Rosh Hashanah service where I was the featured storyteller. My bible series began ten years ago, when I was working as a synagogue librarian. A religious school teacher asked for a good picture book about Abraham. I couldn’t find an attractive one young children could relate to. So I began researching and writing. The result was Abraham’s Search for God which was followed by Sarah Laughs, and Benjamin and the Silver Goblet.
In the fall, Miriam in the Desert will be released. Lately, I have been getting ideas for bible stories when I go to Shabbat services on Saturday morning and read the weekly Torah portion.
EL: You have a wonderful career that spans a love of education in multiple settings. Have you achieved everything you wish to accomplish? If not, what more do you hope to do?
JJ: I haven’t begun to achieve everything I want. I’d like to finish two middle grade novels I have been working on for years and I’d like to start writing the one in my head. Though my poetry has been published in over sixty journals, I do not have my own published collection, which is high on my list of goals. And of course, I’d like to publish more picture books, a medium I truly adore.
For more information about this fabulous author, visit www.jacquelinejules.com. Please also check out the wonderful pages at Association of Jewish Libraries blog at www.jewishlibraries.org/blog, and to the official Sydney Taylor site at www.sydneytaylorbookaward.org.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
A Beacon of Something
In addition to trying to knock out my latest article and finish putting my presentation for Thursday, I find myself sorting through a variety of dilemmas and teachable moments.
Dilemmas first. Much to my chagrin, the boys languish in the Learn to Swim rung of the township lessons because neither of them will swim on their backs.
It was frustrating to watch the Level 3 swimmers kickboarding up and down the deep end, knowing BOTH my sons were doing just that at their pool before Christmas, when instead they are stuck on the platform waiting to take their turn swimming out, with a floatie attached and a teacher.
The teacher was smiling, but dismissive, when I told her this.
Lest you think I am taking this lying down, I AM working on a plan B. But dealing with the soft bigotry of low expectations is what I do daily. I get tired of it, but at least I can name it and deal with it.
Anyway, we head to the library, and I am pleased to watch Nic join a pair of brothers at the computers. He logs on, talking to both brothers about Poptropica. One of the brothers logs on, and Nic leaves his game from time to time to help coach one, then the other, brother as they discover this new game.
We stayed at the library much longer than I planned to, just because this interaction was just too cool and too NORMAL to interrupt.
From there we joined dad, who was setting up Nic's Pack's Pinewood Derby. We all helped set up chairs, and I ended up working the concession stand for pretty much the whole time. After trying to redirect Nic (unsuccessfully), I eventually invited him back to help me work.
He enjoyed making change. He also enjoyed talking to the rest of the women working the stand. And I found myself talking to a mom I hadn't seen since Nic was in K. Once upon a time, Nic was *that kid* to her--now, she remarked on how mature he was, how far he's come, and that she's dealing with her own *that kid* issues.
What's interesting, I'm finding, is that I am very much a go-to person in our school district. People know me and Nic, and as a consequence, I find myself increasingly sought out, and I'm not sure about the why. Maybe it's just enough that Nic is doing as well as he is.
But he's not doing it in a vacuum.
And the other plus is that we didn't have to worry about G eloping. He is excited about racing his own car next year.
The kids are growing up. It's amazing to watch.
Dilemmas first. Much to my chagrin, the boys languish in the Learn to Swim rung of the township lessons because neither of them will swim on their backs.
It was frustrating to watch the Level 3 swimmers kickboarding up and down the deep end, knowing BOTH my sons were doing just that at their pool before Christmas, when instead they are stuck on the platform waiting to take their turn swimming out, with a floatie attached and a teacher.
The teacher was smiling, but dismissive, when I told her this.
Lest you think I am taking this lying down, I AM working on a plan B. But dealing with the soft bigotry of low expectations is what I do daily. I get tired of it, but at least I can name it and deal with it.
Anyway, we head to the library, and I am pleased to watch Nic join a pair of brothers at the computers. He logs on, talking to both brothers about Poptropica. One of the brothers logs on, and Nic leaves his game from time to time to help coach one, then the other, brother as they discover this new game.
We stayed at the library much longer than I planned to, just because this interaction was just too cool and too NORMAL to interrupt.
From there we joined dad, who was setting up Nic's Pack's Pinewood Derby. We all helped set up chairs, and I ended up working the concession stand for pretty much the whole time. After trying to redirect Nic (unsuccessfully), I eventually invited him back to help me work.
He enjoyed making change. He also enjoyed talking to the rest of the women working the stand. And I found myself talking to a mom I hadn't seen since Nic was in K. Once upon a time, Nic was *that kid* to her--now, she remarked on how mature he was, how far he's come, and that she's dealing with her own *that kid* issues.
What's interesting, I'm finding, is that I am very much a go-to person in our school district. People know me and Nic, and as a consequence, I find myself increasingly sought out, and I'm not sure about the why. Maybe it's just enough that Nic is doing as well as he is.
But he's not doing it in a vacuum.
And the other plus is that we didn't have to worry about G eloping. He is excited about racing his own car next year.
The kids are growing up. It's amazing to watch.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Phonage
I need to achieve draft by the end of today. Can't focus to transcribe, so I thought I'd knock out some notables to get me rolling.
Nic answered the phone for the first time ever last night. I knew his dad would be calling, so I gave him my cell phone and instructed him to answer it because it was dad.
And he did. Such a small thing, but such a big step. Hubby couldn't believe it and didn't recognize Nic's voice, so unused to hearing him on the phone is he.
Nic realized it was a big deal, too. He was very pleased with himself.
I'm pleased with him, too. It's the little things that keep me going.
Nic answered the phone for the first time ever last night. I knew his dad would be calling, so I gave him my cell phone and instructed him to answer it because it was dad.
And he did. Such a small thing, but such a big step. Hubby couldn't believe it and didn't recognize Nic's voice, so unused to hearing him on the phone is he.
Nic realized it was a big deal, too. He was very pleased with himself.
I'm pleased with him, too. It's the little things that keep me going.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Heart and Hands Open to Receive
I wanted to know what next last week. And the answers came faster than I can process them.
I'm working to turn around an article--draft out of here late today/early tomorrow. I have two firm speaking engagements with another five tentatively scheduled. And there's a bullying prevention training program that I will apply for.
Meanwhile, Nic continues to amaze. I made a nonprefered dinner last night, and he actually ate everything on his plate--not ALL of it, but a few bites of rice, a few bites of meat, and all of his broccoli. Huge. I think I am going to have to insist that here on out, both boys will eat whatever I put in front of them--because I know they actually will.
Nic wrote an essay that the teacher felt moved to call me to tell me what a great job he did, and that she read it out loud to the class. He is also needing fewer prompts to get work done during the day. AND he actually wore a button-down shirt and slacks (he is playing a businessman in a play his class is doing--I stowed his tie in his pocket and a 'normal' shirt for him to change into when he's done).
Everything has its own order. Sometimes, I just have to let it go, and let what needs to happen, happen.
This is hard for a control freak like me, it's but becoming easier as I see the results--and trust in them.
I'm working to turn around an article--draft out of here late today/early tomorrow. I have two firm speaking engagements with another five tentatively scheduled. And there's a bullying prevention training program that I will apply for.
Meanwhile, Nic continues to amaze. I made a nonprefered dinner last night, and he actually ate everything on his plate--not ALL of it, but a few bites of rice, a few bites of meat, and all of his broccoli. Huge. I think I am going to have to insist that here on out, both boys will eat whatever I put in front of them--because I know they actually will.
Nic wrote an essay that the teacher felt moved to call me to tell me what a great job he did, and that she read it out loud to the class. He is also needing fewer prompts to get work done during the day. AND he actually wore a button-down shirt and slacks (he is playing a businessman in a play his class is doing--I stowed his tie in his pocket and a 'normal' shirt for him to change into when he's done).
Everything has its own order. Sometimes, I just have to let it go, and let what needs to happen, happen.
This is hard for a control freak like me, it's but becoming easier as I see the results--and trust in them.
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