I'm Just Sayin'

Samuel, Vol. 1

Samuel was evaluated a year ago for speech and other developmental delays. He definitely needed speech therapy, specifically articulation. The therapist made a few other observations: he hadn't decided on being left- or right-handed yet, was easily distracted and unusually fidgety. Since he was only 4 years old, we decided to focus on speech and let the other things work themselves out. He made huge progress in articulation and I was immensely relieved. You know it's bad when a child's mother cannot understand 75% of what he says.

Here we are a year later and it appears that Samuel still hasn't determined his handedness and is still very easily distracted. (The fidgeting has improved some, probably because he's matured a bit.) His teacher and I have talked about this to some degree on several occasions. I agreed to have an occupational therapy evaluation done. He can't hold a pencil firmly enough to write letters on a page. The teacher has also mentioned that he cannot stay focused on one task to finish it.

I'm fully on board with the OT evaluation; I really think Samuel could benefit from some exercises in that area. What rubs me the wrong way is the push to get 5-year-olds to Focus. I think school has become so competitive that kids aren't getting to be kids any more. (For example, I referenced parts of speech in Samuel's homework in a recent post here and I wasn't kidding. More about that in a minute.)

I was scheduled to have a conference with Samuel's teacher this morning but we had to postpone it because her child is sick today. I hope I'm wrong about how the classroom is set up and how much work the students are expected to complete independently. I guess I will find out when we do get to meet.

Now, about the parts of speech. Samuel brought home a sentence diagram a few weeks ago. It consisted of a piece of paper with words glued onto it. The sentence read "The baby eats yogurt." Each word was cut in a different shape: circle, square, moon and triangle. The instructions were to review article, subject, verb and object. I asked Samuel about it and he correctly explained it all to me. I was very impressed and so proud but thought to myself that he wouldn't retain the information.

Two weeks later, Miriam's homework assignment was to change verbs from present tense to past tense. I was working on it with her and asked her what a verb was. She stared blankly at me for a few seconds and then Samuel piped up, "A verb is what the subject does!" I almost fell on the floor. (For the record, Miriam caught on very quickly once she remembered what a verb is.)

Since then, Samuel has demonstrated that he really does know his grammar. Obviously, he can retain information that he hears at school. I'm not concerned about that. What concerns me is that if this kind of thing is being taught in kindergarten, what will next year be? Will he be able to keep up then? What other subjects are advanced past a kindergarten level? I know I'm probably borrowing trouble from the future and I know I have to chill out on that. But he's already showing problems in the aforementioned areas so I can't help but be a bit worried.

Bleh. If you made it through that, bless you. I know I'm a tad paranoid. I'm also making what may be unfair assumptions about what is expected of my kindergartner. If I'm wrong -- and I so hope I am! -- I'll be happy to admit it.

Mocklate vs. Choxie

I like chocolate. I enjoy chocolate cake with chocolate icing. I do love fudge and hot fudge sundaes. But just a chocolate bar? Not so much. However, for a couple of years I've seen this stuff at Target called Choxie. The pictures on the box look really good and I've wanted to buy a box to try it. You want to know why I haven't? Well, I'll tell you.

Big dorks like myself, that know practically every Friends episode by heart, will remember an episode when Monica attempted to cook with some stuff called Mocklate. It was an artificial version of chocolate that was supposed to be healthier or something. All of Monica's Mocklate recipes were miserable failures. It was utter garbage. That's why I haven't tried Choxie -- I imagine it to be akin to Mocklate.

At least, I did. I finally broke down and bought a box of Choxie Truffles last week. Sweet mother of Buddha, they are awesome. They consist of a heavenly, light chocolate-ey, mousse-type filling surrounded by a layer of dark chocolate and sprinkled with shaved bits of white chocolate. The entire box is gone now and my mouth is still watering.

Moral of this story: don't let your favorite television shows -- entertaining as they may be -- color your perception of yummy confections. Or something like that. I don't really care, as I'm off to Target for more Choxie Truffles.

Thursday Thirteen: Memories from Early Childhood

1. Mom making my Cinderella birthday cake. age 2

2. Someone scrubbing my hands with stinky soap and putting a gown on me so I could see newborn Jennifer in the hospital. age 2

3. Dad singing me to sleep in the rocking chair. age 2

4. Tossing a balloon to my aunt over the shower curtain while I took a bath and she was babysitting. age 3

5. Making mud pies in the back yard with the kid that Mom babysat. He was so old, at least 5. age 3

6. Going on vacation with Grandma and Grandpa and being eaten up by mosquitoes. age 4

7. Wearing my favorite dress at least part of every day at Dover. It was red and covered with flowers. age 4

8. Watching Dad milk cows on the dairy and getting to feed bottles to the calves . age 5

9. Waiting for the kindergarten school bus by Granny and Paw Paw's honey suckle bush. age 5

10. Thinking that an 'E' should look like this: age 5

11. Lance being born and Dad telling Jennifer and me that he was a big baby; me thinking that meant he was already bigger than me. age 5

12. Playing dentist and pretending I had a loose tooth, only to realize I really did have my very first loose tooth. age 6

13. Trying to take my cat into the wading pool and getting the full benefit of his claws on my back as he scrambled away. age 6

And a bonus story because I can't leave it out --

A skunk spraying our front porch. While we were outside. With all the windows open. And box fans sitting on the window sills blowing into the house. age 6

Why I Cannot Wait for Thursday

And, the icing on the cake:

Selfishness

I feel bad for my boss. She fell while hiking last week and cracked her patella. Her left leg is in a brace and she can't flex her knee joint for the next 3 to 6 weeks. After that she will need several weeks of physical therapy. This is a very bad situation for anyone, but especially so for a nurse. One cannot effectively care for patients with in immobilized knee.

As bad as her injury is, I can't help feeling sorry for myself, too. I'm the only other full-time nurse in the office so I am picking up the slack. The old timer is lazy. Another sort-of old timer is slow. The fill-in nurses are good but they're fill-ins and they don't do the extra stuff like track down lab results and x-rays. They don't remember which nebulizers are accepted by which insurance companies or where the face masks are. They don't enter vaccine lot numbers or even know which vendor delivers insurance doses and which delivers VFC doses.

So, I'll be happy for my boss when her leg heals. I'll be really happy because she can go back to doing her job and I can pitch in when I have a chance. That might make me sound selfish but I can't help that.

Thursday Thirteen: To Do List

1. Cut the kids' hair. Both the boys need to be buzzed and Miriam's hair desperately needs a trim.

2. Take Solomon to the doctor. He swears that there is something "stuck to the thing that makes me be able to hear."

3. Wash the car. And vacuum it. And throw out the accumulated junk in it. And clean the fingerprints off the inside of the windows.

4. Stay on top of the laundry. I'm caught up and I want it to last as long as possible.

5. Call the apartment manager about the lights being out in the breezeway. Remember to tell them the kids' bathroom doorknob is jamming up.

6. Take the kids out for ice cream. They've worked hard this week and they deserve it.

7. Sweep and mop the kitchen floor.

8. Make lasagna to use up all the extra marinara I made this week.

9. Watch the season finale of 'Swingtown.' And hope that it comes back to CBS instead of going to HBO.

10. Plan an outdoor activity for this weekend. Biking? Kites? Hiking?

11. Play trains with Samuel. He asked me tonight while I was busy with something and then we both forgot about it later.

12. Catch up on my Sim families. I haven't played in almost 3 weeks. I'm a little ashamed to say this, but I miss playing dolls.

13. Unwind. The last two work weeks have knocked the wind out of me.

Someone Should Call CPS

I am starving my child. He won't have energy to eat the food on his plate at dinner if I don't give him a snack at 6:15. He's going to keel over and die rightthisminute. He needs food, and he needs it now, darn it! The two peanut butter and cracker sandwiches weren't enough and he needs cheese -- lots of cheese. I don't care about him at all.

/facetious

What I Did Last Night

I work with someone who always asks me what I did 'last night.' She asks this in the same leisurely, half-interested way that people with no responsibilities ask each other what they Did Over the Weekend. If it were anyone else, it probably wouldn't bother me but she annoys me in lots of other ways so this is just one more straw.

(This same woman commented on my children being with their father for a month this summer and said, "Man, I wish I had had a set up like that when my kids were little." Really? You wish you didn't see your kids for a month and that during the school year, they missed their dad constantly? Really? You wish you had had that? She's also the same one that thinks everyone with state-funded insurance is lazy. She's a real gem.)

Plus, she's really out of touch with what it's actually like to have young children. She has 2 grown children and she seems to have forgotten what it's like to have them constantly needing something. For example, last week I walked into the office at 8:28, gulping down the rest of my lukewarm coffee from a travel mug with my first patient already in the waiting room. She breezed past me and said, "You have more time than I do in the mornings if you've already had your coffee." My jaw dropped. She had no clue that my morning started at 5:30 with a child's wet bed, a 5-minute shower and make up put on at red lights. I kind of wanted to kick her in the shin, just a little bit.

Later that day she stretched lazily and asked me, "So what did you do last night, besides go home and crash?" I was already ticked at her for the earlier comment about my morning and I didn't trust myself to answer nicely. So I didn't answer her. But if I had, I might have said something like this:

Well, I left here at 5:25 at a dead run to avoid paying $5 per minute per child for missing the 6:00 pm pick up deadline for the after care program. I barely made it there in time due to the horrendous traffic.

By the time we got home it was after 6 and all the kids had homework so I simultaneously signed homework folders, read homework instructions, cooked dinner, unloaded the dishwasher and moved more clean laundry to the ever-growing pile of clean laundry. We had dinner and finished most of the kids' homework.

Then I sent the eldest to the shower, bathed the middle child and put off the youngest's bath until this morning. I supervised the kids' teeth brushing, called their father so they could tell him about their day, picked up some toys, straightened beds, turned on night lights and music and finally turned out the light. I tucked in all 3 children and barely resisted the urge to pass out in their beds with them.

After that I cleaned up the dinner dishes, put away leftovers, swept the floor, reminded myself to take out the trash this morning, started another load of laundry and wiped up pee splatters around the toilets. I debated whether or not to watch television and decided to go to bed instead. And I forgot to brush my teeth.

Thursday Thirteen: Pet Peeves

I've been testy lately. I attribute that to a hormone surge and the fact that we aren't adjusted to the routine of the school year yet. In an effort to get it all out of my system, I'm posting a list of thirteen pet peeves.

1. Mouth noises: breathing, chewing, smacking, even certain sneezes.

2. Talking with one's mouth full: this is technically a mouth noise but it's so entirely gross that I have to list it separately (plus, I work with a bunch of people who do this all. the. time.).

3. Parents that smile dumbly at me instead of helping me wrangle their child onto the exam table.

4. People that invade my personal space; seriously, the 18 inches surrounding me in all directions should not be entered unless we share DNA or you have been expressly invited.

5. DJs talking over each other or music. Yes, I know you get paid to talk, but you don't get paid by the word, so chill.

6. Laziness. Pure and simple. I hate it.

7. Waste. Another simple one.

8. Parents who get more worked up about their kid's shots than the kid does.

9. After care program workers who can't explain to me the payment rate for my children and why my statement reads that I have a $60 credit but insist that I have to fork over another check for $112 for next week.

10. Kindergarten homework instructions that take too long to decipher so I end up doing whatever I think the kindergartner needs to do for homework. Come on, it's kindergarten. Does he really need to know the subject, verb and object parts of a sentence yet?

11. Cashiers who act like it's a huge chore to load up my reusable shopping bags as opposed to their cheap, wasteful plastic bags.

12. Parents who think that everything their kid does is cute, including grabbing at expensive medical equipment, slamming drawers and ripping table paper to shreds.

13. Whining. Oh, how I hate whining.

Well now, that's that. I'll take a deep breath and sleep better now. I hope.

Well Now She's Just Bragging

My daughter is a wonderful student. She works hard, listens well and is eager to please her teachers. She's too afraid to call attention to herself so she doesn't speak out of turn in class. She's usually at the top of the behavior mountain peak.

I suspected this would be the case before she even started school and the last 3 years have confirmed those suspicions. But tonight took the cake. We were talking about our favorite and least favorite parts of the day. Her least favorite part of today -- I only got one Scholar Dollar today.

As it turns out, Scholar Dollars are play money that the teacher hands out to students who make good choices. When a student accumulates a certain number of Scholar Dollars they can choose a prize from the treasure box and buy it with their well-earned monies.

So Miriam's bummer is when she fails to garner multiple Scholar Dollars in a single school day. I asked her how many she got yesterday and she wasn't sure. I asked how many she has total and she shrugged and said, "I don't know. A lot."

Now, my sons are very different stories. More about them in future posts. And, lest you think I play favorites, it's not bad stuff. They are all different kids, therefore they present me with different challenges.