The third big event of 2009 occurred in the area of health. This was the year that I discovered that I have spinal osteoporosis. I felt devastated for quite a while after the diagnosis, like roll me into that nursing home. But, unlike my grandmother who up and quit when she broke her hip, I wanted to do what I could to get better.
I hit the gym. Weight bearing exercises are good for the bones, so I went three to four times a week. Then, once spring arrived, I walked in the morning and worked out after Andrew went to bed. I started to feel great and the weight fell off. From January to August, I dropped 30 pounds. That might be my proudest accomplishment.
I can't quite maintain that schedule now that I am back to work. I get to the gym twice a week and I try to exercise a little at home. I still have to worry about my back, especially now that winter is here; I can't risk falling on the ice. It's still a drag to have this old ladies' condition. Now, if I can just hold off the need for bifocals, I can maintain the illusion of youth.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
2009's greatest hits con't
Aside from my leave, the single biggest event in my life was Andrew's diagnosis of autism. From time to time, I still feel overwhelmed at the whole prospect of have a special needs child - even one who is categorized as mildly autistic.
When we started on this journey, Andrew was really struggling in school. He played almost exclusively with the parapro aligned to him. He still played exclusively in parallel with his peers as opposed to with them. He had never spontaneously told me that he loved me.
So much has changed since June. He actively plays with the other boys at daycare. He shares and verbally interacts, albeit in a limited manner. School is still a bit of a struggle, at least socially. He is, however, in a large class - 34 little bodies. He often zones out and can't focus when there is too much activity happening around him.
He still struggles with eye contact. I'm quite certain that making eye contact will be a long term project for Andrew. He also continues to be obsessed with pinching my thighs and arms and .... That is a behavior that has to cease before he gets too big and someone clocks him one.
Verbally he has just soared. He will sometimes tell me he loves me, especially when he wants to to stay and "sleep" with him. We provide him with a concrete script for social situations and he seems to really appreciate it. If he has enough practice with these scripts, they become part of his routine and he is often able to use them without prompting from momma.
Naturally, I still worry about my baby. Many situations will simply be more complicated for him to maneuver on his own. It seems as though we will always have to practice before entering new situations and practice often. That's okay, though. We just keep plugging away and he gets a little better and little more independent everyday.
When we started on this journey, Andrew was really struggling in school. He played almost exclusively with the parapro aligned to him. He still played exclusively in parallel with his peers as opposed to with them. He had never spontaneously told me that he loved me.
So much has changed since June. He actively plays with the other boys at daycare. He shares and verbally interacts, albeit in a limited manner. School is still a bit of a struggle, at least socially. He is, however, in a large class - 34 little bodies. He often zones out and can't focus when there is too much activity happening around him.
He still struggles with eye contact. I'm quite certain that making eye contact will be a long term project for Andrew. He also continues to be obsessed with pinching my thighs and arms and .... That is a behavior that has to cease before he gets too big and someone clocks him one.
Verbally he has just soared. He will sometimes tell me he loves me, especially when he wants to to stay and "sleep" with him. We provide him with a concrete script for social situations and he seems to really appreciate it. If he has enough practice with these scripts, they become part of his routine and he is often able to use them without prompting from momma.
Naturally, I still worry about my baby. Many situations will simply be more complicated for him to maneuver on his own. It seems as though we will always have to practice before entering new situations and practice often. That's okay, though. We just keep plugging away and he gets a little better and little more independent everyday.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
2009 - a year so fine?
Lately, the papers and other media are replete with stories reviewing 2009. Seeing as I desperately desire to break into the writing business, I thought that I should add my two cents on the subject. The biggest event for me in 2009 was my sabbatical.
Andrew started school in the fall of 2008 and took the whole 2008-2009 school year off. By the time January rolled around, I had realized that I was not meant to be a stay-at-home mom. I was deeply depressed and bored. Due to the loss of my salary, we had no money and I was constantly worried about the debt we had incurred over the previous three years. I did not express these concerns aloud and instead internalized it all.
Despite those negatives, I would have to say that taking a year off from my job was the best career decision I have ever made. I am not sure that I would be able to continue as a teacher if I had worked last year. I work in a high stress, high needs, low resource school district and I felt ready to snap by the time June 2008 rolled around. The place still makes me crazy, but, I feel that I have gained a better perspective on the insanity. It doesn't quite roll of my back like water from a duck, but at least the acid reflex has not returned.
As a mom, the year proved to me that I am a good mother. Previously, I had my doubts. Andrew was happy and healthy. He and I bonded in a manner that had not existed before I took this sojourn. There were, naturally, obstacles that emerged. I now feel far more confident to tackle the hard times than I had before.
Would I ever take another year off? Our contract allows one more leave. Depending on my circumstances, I might consider it. I would have a plan to beat back the depression and Andrew will of course be older. But, I sense that there are many changes on my horizon that will make this decision for me.
Andrew started school in the fall of 2008 and took the whole 2008-2009 school year off. By the time January rolled around, I had realized that I was not meant to be a stay-at-home mom. I was deeply depressed and bored. Due to the loss of my salary, we had no money and I was constantly worried about the debt we had incurred over the previous three years. I did not express these concerns aloud and instead internalized it all.
Despite those negatives, I would have to say that taking a year off from my job was the best career decision I have ever made. I am not sure that I would be able to continue as a teacher if I had worked last year. I work in a high stress, high needs, low resource school district and I felt ready to snap by the time June 2008 rolled around. The place still makes me crazy, but, I feel that I have gained a better perspective on the insanity. It doesn't quite roll of my back like water from a duck, but at least the acid reflex has not returned.
As a mom, the year proved to me that I am a good mother. Previously, I had my doubts. Andrew was happy and healthy. He and I bonded in a manner that had not existed before I took this sojourn. There were, naturally, obstacles that emerged. I now feel far more confident to tackle the hard times than I had before.
Would I ever take another year off? Our contract allows one more leave. Depending on my circumstances, I might consider it. I would have a plan to beat back the depression and Andrew will of course be older. But, I sense that there are many changes on my horizon that will make this decision for me.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
For C.D.W.
I was quite recently chided by a self-proclaimed "faithful reader" that I needed to provide some content here on the old blog. It's another Saturday night spent at home contemplating school work and drinking Bailey's, so I'm game.
Perhaps an up-date on the novel would be apropos this evening. I am into chapter six and I find that I need to do a fair bit of research to complete the chapter. I need to research cabins and wooded areas in the northern Lower Peninsula. I saw the season's first snow flakes, so I guess I will wait until spring for that bit of research.
I have been in contact with an editor who is willing to look over what I have written thus far and make suggestions. The editor also runs a self-publishing company, which is how I think I will publish the book once it is done. Two published writers have looked over some early chapters and have given me useful feedback. One thing that everyone seems to like is my use of dialogue and how it seems to jump off the page.
I will probably try to plunk out a few words tonight. Vacation will be a wonderful thing because I plan on writing everyday.
I will leave my readers with a serious question, not driven by any alcohol consumption. If two characters in the book are sexually involved, how explicit should the description be? Currently, I have included two scenes in the book that explicitly imply that sex is imminent, but I leave out the salacious details. Your thoughts would be most welcome.
Perhaps an up-date on the novel would be apropos this evening. I am into chapter six and I find that I need to do a fair bit of research to complete the chapter. I need to research cabins and wooded areas in the northern Lower Peninsula. I saw the season's first snow flakes, so I guess I will wait until spring for that bit of research.
I have been in contact with an editor who is willing to look over what I have written thus far and make suggestions. The editor also runs a self-publishing company, which is how I think I will publish the book once it is done. Two published writers have looked over some early chapters and have given me useful feedback. One thing that everyone seems to like is my use of dialogue and how it seems to jump off the page.
I will probably try to plunk out a few words tonight. Vacation will be a wonderful thing because I plan on writing everyday.
I will leave my readers with a serious question, not driven by any alcohol consumption. If two characters in the book are sexually involved, how explicit should the description be? Currently, I have included two scenes in the book that explicitly imply that sex is imminent, but I leave out the salacious details. Your thoughts would be most welcome.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
An interesting dinner party
I'm supposed to be grading papers right now. Scratch that, I always have papers to grade, but I needed to take a break from this completely mundane task. I haven't been here in a while because I was tired of my own continual whining that I found coming out of my fingertips. I decided to wait until I had something more interesting to say until I wrote again. I don't really have anything interesting, but for many, this is a weekend of big meals and company. I thought that it might be interesting to create a list of interesting guests we would like to have at a dinner party. The people need not be famous, just interesting.
My first choice would be my high school English teacher, Mrs. Masters. First and foremost, I would want to talk with her about all the changes in education that have occurred. I'm sure that she would have viewed this new emphasis on testing as anathema to true education.
Allen Ginsberg would be second on my list. He would have great stories and I always found him to be very engaging. And yes, the meal would be vegetarian.
Next on the list would be Harry Shearer. He was in This is Spinal Tap and he has done dozen of voices on The Simpsons. Between him and Ginsburg, I'm not sure that the laughter would stop.
Terry Gross would have to be at my dinner. I am often terrible at small talk and she does it for a living. She makes everyone sound so smart.
I should pick a novelist here, perhaps Atwood or Twain, but I'm afraid that my dinner needs some erudite eye candy - for me. I have two choices in my head and I'm going to go with...George Clooney. He's liberal and articulate and well-dressed and manly. Ginsberg would probably give George googly eyes, whereas he might leave GT alone, but George wins on this one because I have not yet met him.
I noticed that my list is hopelessly US-centric and I wasn't really expecting that. Maybe you could recommend me to some more worldly voices.
My first choice would be my high school English teacher, Mrs. Masters. First and foremost, I would want to talk with her about all the changes in education that have occurred. I'm sure that she would have viewed this new emphasis on testing as anathema to true education.
Allen Ginsberg would be second on my list. He would have great stories and I always found him to be very engaging. And yes, the meal would be vegetarian.
Next on the list would be Harry Shearer. He was in This is Spinal Tap and he has done dozen of voices on The Simpsons. Between him and Ginsburg, I'm not sure that the laughter would stop.
Terry Gross would have to be at my dinner. I am often terrible at small talk and she does it for a living. She makes everyone sound so smart.
I should pick a novelist here, perhaps Atwood or Twain, but I'm afraid that my dinner needs some erudite eye candy - for me. I have two choices in my head and I'm going to go with...George Clooney. He's liberal and articulate and well-dressed and manly. Ginsberg would probably give George googly eyes, whereas he might leave GT alone, but George wins on this one because I have not yet met him.
I noticed that my list is hopelessly US-centric and I wasn't really expecting that. Maybe you could recommend me to some more worldly voices.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Now Accepting Bids for Mid-Life Crisis Sponsors
Much of what I have written in the past year seems to deal with a overall feeling of malaise that encompasses my world. It's clear that I must be suffering from some type of identity crisis. I know that I can pinpoint some of my feelings to a direct source; some of which I can discuss and some of which will need to remain locked in a vault. Much of what I am experiencing, however, feels hazy. Therefore, I can only guess that, at 42, the much maligned mid-life crisis has descended upon me. I suppose I could go find someone who would prescribe a plethora of anti-depressants for me. That idea seems highly distressing. If I'm going to have a mid-life crisis that requires me to find myself, I might as well have as much fun as I can. Sadly, I am but a poor school teacher. To be honest, I make a pretty good salary. Unfortunately, much of which could help me relieve the symptoms of this mid-life crisis, not unlike medicine, is expensive. Traveling, more educational opportunities, attending cultural events, and exploring new hobbies are all part of my plan to help me come to terms with the life I have led to this point,make spiritual sense of my world and my being, a to create and road map for the remainder of time I have left.
This is where you, an interested corporate sponsor can help. You might wonder why should my company sponsor you? I have a number of fine qualities that should appeal to a demographic that is currently at or about to enter its peak earning cycle. To begin, I am highly educated. I earned a B.A. in French, with a strong minor in English at Alma College, a small liberal arts college with an excellent reputation. After completing my degree, I worked a variety of jobs, none of which were satisfying. These jobs, however, did give me a strong appreciation for what the working class in our society experiences and I developed a deep empathy for service workers in general. I tip extremely generously (this particular characteristic might be of special interest to those in the food industry. You could greatly improve the morale of your dining room staff if you choose to underwrite a portion of my mid-life crisis). After earning my teaching certificate and working in socio-economically deprived districts for a few years, I returned to school to earn an M.A. in Humanities. From this program, I grew to love art history, historic architecture, and even opera. Thanks to my love of reading, I am fully capable of holding an intelligent conversation about any of these topics and I am very happy to learn more.
Another quality that should interest the potential corporate sponsor is my connection to the youth market. As a teacher, I interact with 150 teenagers a day. I have an excellent reputation as fair minded and academically challenging. I also have an excellent rapport with many of my students. From a marketing point of view, I could have an advantage over traditional advertising in swaying students to consider certain products over others. Many students view traditional advertising with a cynical eye. Product information from a trusted teacher is far less invasive and can be targeted directly to students most likely to be interested in the product. Under no circumstances can any portion of a lesson plan be sponsored.
Yet another attractive quality that I can offer any corporate sponsor is a high level of flexibility. Let's say, for instance that you are an 80s pop band named Squeeze. The range of services I could offer are wide. For a week on tour with the band, I would gladly sell merchandise. I am petite, and attractive - assets that can only help in the realm of sales. This is an offer that should be taken immediately before those assets drop. I am able to take on such a task because my husband is fully capable of handling our son for long stretches of time on his own. I don't worry that the house will burn down and laundry will eventually get done.
A final reason your company should sponsor my mid-life crisis is that I am technologically savvy enough to broadcast my mid-life adventures in a broad range of mediums. I am a writer who is capable of producing essays highlighting my exploits. I would most certainly compose a memoir recounting my mid-life crisis. I have this blog, which I advertise on my Facebook page. I have an account on youtube and would be more than willing to post videos of my experiences using your product. Finally, I am articulate enough to handle any radio or television interviews.
I would like to end by thanking you for your interest in my mid-life crisis. I hope that we have an opportunity to discuss how your entity and my mid-life crisis can help each other reach their maximum potentials.
UPDATE: Here is the link to the eBay listing for Sponsor this Mid-Life Crisis.
http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=250516463129
This is where you, an interested corporate sponsor can help. You might wonder why should my company sponsor you? I have a number of fine qualities that should appeal to a demographic that is currently at or about to enter its peak earning cycle. To begin, I am highly educated. I earned a B.A. in French, with a strong minor in English at Alma College, a small liberal arts college with an excellent reputation. After completing my degree, I worked a variety of jobs, none of which were satisfying. These jobs, however, did give me a strong appreciation for what the working class in our society experiences and I developed a deep empathy for service workers in general. I tip extremely generously (this particular characteristic might be of special interest to those in the food industry. You could greatly improve the morale of your dining room staff if you choose to underwrite a portion of my mid-life crisis). After earning my teaching certificate and working in socio-economically deprived districts for a few years, I returned to school to earn an M.A. in Humanities. From this program, I grew to love art history, historic architecture, and even opera. Thanks to my love of reading, I am fully capable of holding an intelligent conversation about any of these topics and I am very happy to learn more.
Another quality that should interest the potential corporate sponsor is my connection to the youth market. As a teacher, I interact with 150 teenagers a day. I have an excellent reputation as fair minded and academically challenging. I also have an excellent rapport with many of my students. From a marketing point of view, I could have an advantage over traditional advertising in swaying students to consider certain products over others. Many students view traditional advertising with a cynical eye. Product information from a trusted teacher is far less invasive and can be targeted directly to students most likely to be interested in the product. Under no circumstances can any portion of a lesson plan be sponsored.
Yet another attractive quality that I can offer any corporate sponsor is a high level of flexibility. Let's say, for instance that you are an 80s pop band named Squeeze. The range of services I could offer are wide. For a week on tour with the band, I would gladly sell merchandise. I am petite, and attractive - assets that can only help in the realm of sales. This is an offer that should be taken immediately before those assets drop. I am able to take on such a task because my husband is fully capable of handling our son for long stretches of time on his own. I don't worry that the house will burn down and laundry will eventually get done.
A final reason your company should sponsor my mid-life crisis is that I am technologically savvy enough to broadcast my mid-life adventures in a broad range of mediums. I am a writer who is capable of producing essays highlighting my exploits. I would most certainly compose a memoir recounting my mid-life crisis. I have this blog, which I advertise on my Facebook page. I have an account on youtube and would be more than willing to post videos of my experiences using your product. Finally, I am articulate enough to handle any radio or television interviews.
I would like to end by thanking you for your interest in my mid-life crisis. I hope that we have an opportunity to discuss how your entity and my mid-life crisis can help each other reach their maximum potentials.
UPDATE: Here is the link to the eBay listing for Sponsor this Mid-Life Crisis.
http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=250516463129
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Getting Emo
The return to school has been more difficult than I anticipated. All the stress of grading papers, never being alone, and large classes have hit me with a double shot to the kidney. I feel myself being sucked into a black cloud of depression. I did not enjoy the isolation of being a stay-at-home mom and I had eagerly looked forward to returning to work. I am of a completely different mind at the moment.
Our school is under the gun because we have not made Adequate Yearly Progress (AYP) in five years. I'll explain all of that later, maybe this weekend. Anyway, if our test scores (and a variety of other factors) don't achieve AYP this year, the whole staff could be fired. No stress there. We have turned into test prep central and that is not why I became a teacher.
It has not helped that some of Andrew's behavior's have grown wearisome and worse. His inability to stop himself from pinching my thighs has me down. He looks at me and the only thing he almost ever says is "Momma's pinchy squishy skin." I must hear this two, three dozen times a day. Naturally, the stress I'm feeling from work must trickle down to Andrew. He must sense how I'm just not feeling right.
Then there's my book. I haven't even given it a passing glance in three weeks. What a waste of some fine material. I'm not saying it's Pulitzer material, but it is a huge dream that I have to finish it. Of course, if I lose my job, I'll have all of the time in the world to write. I just won't be able to make it to Wimbledon for my 45th birthday. Plus, who knows what I'll eat when I am an old woman without a pension.
My head is swimming with confused thoughts. I need to get my act together or I'll burn out and be of no use to myself or anyone else.
Our school is under the gun because we have not made Adequate Yearly Progress (AYP) in five years. I'll explain all of that later, maybe this weekend. Anyway, if our test scores (and a variety of other factors) don't achieve AYP this year, the whole staff could be fired. No stress there. We have turned into test prep central and that is not why I became a teacher.
It has not helped that some of Andrew's behavior's have grown wearisome and worse. His inability to stop himself from pinching my thighs has me down. He looks at me and the only thing he almost ever says is "Momma's pinchy squishy skin." I must hear this two, three dozen times a day. Naturally, the stress I'm feeling from work must trickle down to Andrew. He must sense how I'm just not feeling right.
Then there's my book. I haven't even given it a passing glance in three weeks. What a waste of some fine material. I'm not saying it's Pulitzer material, but it is a huge dream that I have to finish it. Of course, if I lose my job, I'll have all of the time in the world to write. I just won't be able to make it to Wimbledon for my 45th birthday. Plus, who knows what I'll eat when I am an old woman without a pension.
My head is swimming with confused thoughts. I need to get my act together or I'll burn out and be of no use to myself or anyone else.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
The Vortex
I have been trapped for about a week now and the only reason I seem to be free at the moment is because I am actively blowing off papers that need to be graded. I haven't posted here in 10 days and I haven't touched my book in two weeks. I need some me time.
The beginning of this school year feels like the craziest one I have ever experienced in my whole career and frankly that's saying something. I had mentioned previously that I anticipated chaos on the first day of school and that was what we got. There was a reporting room for the students that wasn't remotely related to homeroom. There was no communication about when to hand out emergency cards and other forms. The id cards were not available, nor was the code of conduct. Hell, we still don't have those. It took two days to distribute lockers to students.
Without id cards, students are unable to obtain textbooks, so who knows what the math teachers are doing. I don't cleave to the textbook, but I do use it as a handy reference tool, so I don't have to make copies, which of course I am now doing. We have science classes with more than 40 students. We have kids showing up for the first time during week two. Who knows what they've been doing for the past week. I have had a new student or two every hour foe the past week. Those kids have missed two or three assignments in my class already.
I just had to vent. Thanks for listening
The beginning of this school year feels like the craziest one I have ever experienced in my whole career and frankly that's saying something. I had mentioned previously that I anticipated chaos on the first day of school and that was what we got. There was a reporting room for the students that wasn't remotely related to homeroom. There was no communication about when to hand out emergency cards and other forms. The id cards were not available, nor was the code of conduct. Hell, we still don't have those. It took two days to distribute lockers to students.
Without id cards, students are unable to obtain textbooks, so who knows what the math teachers are doing. I don't cleave to the textbook, but I do use it as a handy reference tool, so I don't have to make copies, which of course I am now doing. We have science classes with more than 40 students. We have kids showing up for the first time during week two. Who knows what they've been doing for the past week. I have had a new student or two every hour foe the past week. Those kids have missed two or three assignments in my class already.
I just had to vent. Thanks for listening
Saturday, September 5, 2009
It's almost here
Shhh, don't tell anyone, but I'm really excited for Tuesday to roll around. I know that I said earlier that I'm nervous and I am, but I think it's a good nervous. I just can't wait to stand in front of my students and start the year.
First of all, the start of the school year has given me a reason to go clothes shopping. I know it is a completely superficial reason, but after dropping 25 pounds in the last year, I need a whole new wardrobe. Yesterday, I did a power shop through the mall and bought a suit, a skirt, a jacket, and a new fall outfit from Jones of New York. I found a pair of shoes. Last week, I finally replaced my old, fat jeans that I could pull on and off without unsnapping or unzipping.
Secondly, many of my AP students are in Student Council or on Facebook. They have been talking enthusiastically, to each other, about the summer reading they had to do. They had to read Frankenstein and Oedipus Rex. They all went out and immediately got the books and promptly read them. Many of they e-mailed me or wrote on my Facebook wall (unprompted) that they really liked the stories. A few of them have helped me in my class and have seen the books we'll be studying and I could see the excitement on their faces. Even one of them furtively put the books to her nose and inhaled deeply. That class will be my last class of the day and what a way to end the day.
I just can't believe how much I've missed adult company on the last year. I knew that I went through a pretty extensive bout of the blues while on leave, but now I know one reason why. During our two days of meetings this past week, I just couldn't shut up. Of course, many people were interested in how Andrew is doing and some remarked on my weight loss, but other than that, I just chatted with anyone who would listen.
The communication for our opening day procedures has been abysmal and I am anticipating nothing short of chaos. I can't wait.
First of all, the start of the school year has given me a reason to go clothes shopping. I know it is a completely superficial reason, but after dropping 25 pounds in the last year, I need a whole new wardrobe. Yesterday, I did a power shop through the mall and bought a suit, a skirt, a jacket, and a new fall outfit from Jones of New York. I found a pair of shoes. Last week, I finally replaced my old, fat jeans that I could pull on and off without unsnapping or unzipping.
Secondly, many of my AP students are in Student Council or on Facebook. They have been talking enthusiastically, to each other, about the summer reading they had to do. They had to read Frankenstein and Oedipus Rex. They all went out and immediately got the books and promptly read them. Many of they e-mailed me or wrote on my Facebook wall (unprompted) that they really liked the stories. A few of them have helped me in my class and have seen the books we'll be studying and I could see the excitement on their faces. Even one of them furtively put the books to her nose and inhaled deeply. That class will be my last class of the day and what a way to end the day.
I just can't believe how much I've missed adult company on the last year. I knew that I went through a pretty extensive bout of the blues while on leave, but now I know one reason why. During our two days of meetings this past week, I just couldn't shut up. Of course, many people were interested in how Andrew is doing and some remarked on my weight loss, but other than that, I just chatted with anyone who would listen.
The communication for our opening day procedures has been abysmal and I am anticipating nothing short of chaos. I can't wait.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
The only thing we have to fear is...starting all over
In a little over two weeks, I will stand in front of 30 teenagers for an hour at a time a attempt to engage their minds with the greatest authors our country has produced. I have done this job for 13 years, but not for the past year. I am scared that I have lost whatever touch I had gained in the previous 13 years.
My strength as a teacher is the rapport that I have with my students. I can empathize with them as my painful teenage years still run crystal clear in my head. I remember the confusion, the optimism, the anger, the angst, and the reckless joy that I felt, sometimes within minutes of each other. I remember wanting more than whatever my treeless suburban life was offering me. My ability to conjure up these feelings allow me to treat my students with respect that many adults cannot find when dealing with high school students.
As I face the prospect of returning after my year of respite, I fear that I won't be able to be as effective as I had been. The daily grind of marking papers, running Student Council, cooking, running a household prevented me some exploring long lost dreams and goals. Will I be able to maintain a workout schedule that will keep off the weight I've lost? Will I find the precious time to write 600-1000 words a day in my novel? If I lose either of those long desired wants, will it affect me in the classroom? Somewhere else?
Unlike a rookie teacher, I fully understand what is about to hit me as soon as the kids hit the door. I can't help but wonder if ignorance isn't bliss.
My strength as a teacher is the rapport that I have with my students. I can empathize with them as my painful teenage years still run crystal clear in my head. I remember the confusion, the optimism, the anger, the angst, and the reckless joy that I felt, sometimes within minutes of each other. I remember wanting more than whatever my treeless suburban life was offering me. My ability to conjure up these feelings allow me to treat my students with respect that many adults cannot find when dealing with high school students.
As I face the prospect of returning after my year of respite, I fear that I won't be able to be as effective as I had been. The daily grind of marking papers, running Student Council, cooking, running a household prevented me some exploring long lost dreams and goals. Will I be able to maintain a workout schedule that will keep off the weight I've lost? Will I find the precious time to write 600-1000 words a day in my novel? If I lose either of those long desired wants, will it affect me in the classroom? Somewhere else?
Unlike a rookie teacher, I fully understand what is about to hit me as soon as the kids hit the door. I can't help but wonder if ignorance isn't bliss.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
A first
One of the issues with Andrew's autism is that he has never spontaneously told me that he loves me. Usually, he'll turn his head (eye contact - never) and mumble the words, after I have prompted him several times.
I've been extremely busy these last few weeks. Homecoming is a mere three weeks into school and I have been meeting with Student Council in order to hit the ground running. I want us to have a significantly better year than we had last year. Anyway, that has taken me away from home for whole work days at a time. My husband has told me that Andrew asks after me several times a day - which is his way of saying he misses me.
Last night, after yet another day apart, I was leaving Andrew's room so he could go to sleep. He had already told me, with a huge grin on his face, that he would not give me a hug or a kiss, so I started to walk out of the room. He grabbed my hand to prevent me from leaving and said "I need you Momma. I love you soooo much." Needless to say, I immediately began to cry like a baby. He, of course, repeated the phrase a dozen times in a row and asked me to lay down with him. I did for a few minutes and then left.
I floated on air for the rest of the night. My little guy is going to be just fine.
I've been extremely busy these last few weeks. Homecoming is a mere three weeks into school and I have been meeting with Student Council in order to hit the ground running. I want us to have a significantly better year than we had last year. Anyway, that has taken me away from home for whole work days at a time. My husband has told me that Andrew asks after me several times a day - which is his way of saying he misses me.
Last night, after yet another day apart, I was leaving Andrew's room so he could go to sleep. He had already told me, with a huge grin on his face, that he would not give me a hug or a kiss, so I started to walk out of the room. He grabbed my hand to prevent me from leaving and said "I need you Momma. I love you soooo much." Needless to say, I immediately began to cry like a baby. He, of course, repeated the phrase a dozen times in a row and asked me to lay down with him. I did for a few minutes and then left.
I floated on air for the rest of the night. My little guy is going to be just fine.
Monday, August 3, 2009
A year in review - the sucesses!
It is hard to believe. My one year leave is almost over. I had set a number of goals for myself and I have achieved or made progress toward achieving some of them.
The biggest goal I set for myself was to get in shape and that goal is firmly in the positive column. Since January, I have lost 20 pounds and all of my clothes are too big. I will need to retool my wardrobe for the fall. I feel as though I am physically stronger and that I have far more stamina than I had previously. I am extremely proud of the progress I have made here.
The second goal I that I have made substantial gains on achieving is my writing goal. I am three chapters into my novel and I have bits and pieces of other stories started. That may sound like a hodgepodge of results - it is. But, I am set to finish within the next 12 months because my soul now understands how important this goal is to me. I feel invigorated when I write. Time is still a serious issue, but I hope to tackle that within the next two months.
There are a few goals where I feel that I let myself down. I'll get to those next entry.
The biggest goal I set for myself was to get in shape and that goal is firmly in the positive column. Since January, I have lost 20 pounds and all of my clothes are too big. I will need to retool my wardrobe for the fall. I feel as though I am physically stronger and that I have far more stamina than I had previously. I am extremely proud of the progress I have made here.
The second goal I that I have made substantial gains on achieving is my writing goal. I am three chapters into my novel and I have bits and pieces of other stories started. That may sound like a hodgepodge of results - it is. But, I am set to finish within the next 12 months because my soul now understands how important this goal is to me. I feel invigorated when I write. Time is still a serious issue, but I hope to tackle that within the next two months.
There are a few goals where I feel that I let myself down. I'll get to those next entry.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
A meditation on age
I turn 42 tomorrow. Unlike some female stereotype, I do not hesitate to state my age. Over the years, students have often told me that I don't look my age. They have said this at 30 and at 40. I'm not too sure what one is supposed to look like at any given age.
I am surprised how many of my peers stopped celebrating their birthdays. Some have said that they don't want to be reminded of how old they are getting - as if ignoring the slow march will stop it. Personally, I've never been big on birthday parties for me, so celebrating has usually meant a special dinner. Hitting 40 has made me realize that there is still lots of time and that there are about a billion things I'd like to do or see. I have some of these events pegged to certain birthdays. I don't consider these things to be a bucket list, but I guess that it could be taken this way. Here are a five of the more appropriate things I've just got to do.
1. For birthday 45, I'm going to Wimbledon, for the fortnight. I have loved this tournament since I was a kid and I've decided to go. I have a couple of friend lined up and once I start collecting a paycheck in the fall, I'm going to start a little Wimbledon account.
2. Go to the Grand Canyon. Growing up, my family did not really travel. There were no summer cottages, no summer camp. We'd stayed at home. Because of that, I've missed out on this spectacular sight.
3. Publish my book. Dammit, if it's the last thing I do, I will get this thing finished and published and at least a handful of strangers will buy it.
4. Go back to China. I hope that one day, Andrew will want to go back to China. I want to see the country without feeling the exhaustion I felt on the first trip. I need to see Changzhou, the Andrew's actual hometown.
5. Get back to Paris and go to Florence. I can't imagine that I need to explain either of these. Was David a real guy?
What are those places you just have to visit?
I am surprised how many of my peers stopped celebrating their birthdays. Some have said that they don't want to be reminded of how old they are getting - as if ignoring the slow march will stop it. Personally, I've never been big on birthday parties for me, so celebrating has usually meant a special dinner. Hitting 40 has made me realize that there is still lots of time and that there are about a billion things I'd like to do or see. I have some of these events pegged to certain birthdays. I don't consider these things to be a bucket list, but I guess that it could be taken this way. Here are a five of the more appropriate things I've just got to do.
1. For birthday 45, I'm going to Wimbledon, for the fortnight. I have loved this tournament since I was a kid and I've decided to go. I have a couple of friend lined up and once I start collecting a paycheck in the fall, I'm going to start a little Wimbledon account.
2. Go to the Grand Canyon. Growing up, my family did not really travel. There were no summer cottages, no summer camp. We'd stayed at home. Because of that, I've missed out on this spectacular sight.
3. Publish my book. Dammit, if it's the last thing I do, I will get this thing finished and published and at least a handful of strangers will buy it.
4. Go back to China. I hope that one day, Andrew will want to go back to China. I want to see the country without feeling the exhaustion I felt on the first trip. I need to see Changzhou, the Andrew's actual hometown.
5. Get back to Paris and go to Florence. I can't imagine that I need to explain either of these. Was David a real guy?
What are those places you just have to visit?
Sunday, July 19, 2009
A lull in the action
From the very beginning, I was determined not to allow this to be a mommy blog. Sure, my kid is the cutest, smartest boy ever, but I am a person outside of him.
Unfortunately, not a lot has been going on lately. We're pretty broke, so no vacation is planned for the summer. We did travel to Cleveland to visit the zoo and Laura - a very lovely day.
Lately, I've been consumed with trying to squeezing out as much writing time as I can. I am currently enrolled in a very short creative writing class, offered through the Detroit Opera House. I am the only person in the class writing prose, everyone else is writing poetry. I find my poems to be dreadful, so I haven't shared any of them. They are usually inspired by some brief image or event that fully captures my attention. I have, however, gotten a lot of positive feedback on my prose - in particular my use of dialogue. I usually feel pretty good coming out of class.
Currently a girlfriend and I are exploring the option of renting a work space in an industrial complex. She's a photographer/art teacher and she finds it near impossible to work at home - like me. We've checked out two spaces and we are investigating another spot in a week or so. I have found that just the thought of having a private work space is invigorating. I'm excited to make a decision in the next month or so.
At this moment, I am working on three different stories. I'm not quite sure how that happened, but it did. If I'm not ADHD I'd be shocked. The one is the novel I started last fall. The second is a story about dumpster diving and the third is a story about a young-ish guy who is better at planning for his great thereafter than living in the great here and now. The last two stories arose out of assignments for my class and I'm very interested in pursuing both of them My classmates suggested that the dumpster diving story has novel potential and the funeral guy is short story material only. Both of the two latter stories require a fair amount of research, in particular the dumpster diving story. That one might go on the back burner for a while.
I did just enter my first writing contest for fast fiction. It's through NPR and it is called Three Minute Fiction. They've gotten tons of entries, so I'm sure that mine will land at the bottom of some trash heap, but at least I'm feeling confident enough to start putting my work out there for people to see. If I can complete this funeral story, I might actually try to submit it to real magazines. Wish me luck.
Unfortunately, not a lot has been going on lately. We're pretty broke, so no vacation is planned for the summer. We did travel to Cleveland to visit the zoo and Laura - a very lovely day.
Lately, I've been consumed with trying to squeezing out as much writing time as I can. I am currently enrolled in a very short creative writing class, offered through the Detroit Opera House. I am the only person in the class writing prose, everyone else is writing poetry. I find my poems to be dreadful, so I haven't shared any of them. They are usually inspired by some brief image or event that fully captures my attention. I have, however, gotten a lot of positive feedback on my prose - in particular my use of dialogue. I usually feel pretty good coming out of class.
Currently a girlfriend and I are exploring the option of renting a work space in an industrial complex. She's a photographer/art teacher and she finds it near impossible to work at home - like me. We've checked out two spaces and we are investigating another spot in a week or so. I have found that just the thought of having a private work space is invigorating. I'm excited to make a decision in the next month or so.
At this moment, I am working on three different stories. I'm not quite sure how that happened, but it did. If I'm not ADHD I'd be shocked. The one is the novel I started last fall. The second is a story about dumpster diving and the third is a story about a young-ish guy who is better at planning for his great thereafter than living in the great here and now. The last two stories arose out of assignments for my class and I'm very interested in pursuing both of them My classmates suggested that the dumpster diving story has novel potential and the funeral guy is short story material only. Both of the two latter stories require a fair amount of research, in particular the dumpster diving story. That one might go on the back burner for a while.
I did just enter my first writing contest for fast fiction. It's through NPR and it is called Three Minute Fiction. They've gotten tons of entries, so I'm sure that mine will land at the bottom of some trash heap, but at least I'm feeling confident enough to start putting my work out there for people to see. If I can complete this funeral story, I might actually try to submit it to real magazines. Wish me luck.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Student Council - Cosmos style
I left my first teaching job after only two years. I arrived at my new school after a friend of mine helped me get an interview. She subsequently left me after a year. Anyway, my new school already had a Student Council Adviser. She was, however, a very busy young woman. She was, if I recall correctly, also the cheerleading coach, a softball coach, a class sponsor, and one of the sponsors for the engineering team. I offered to help her with Student Council and slowly but surely, by the end of the year, I was the sole sponsor.
I had made the vow at my previous school to fight hard for my students, and that's just what I did. I learned very quickly that my new school hadn't had a Homecoming pep rally or a non-Homecoming dance in several years. It seems that the biggest things this Student Council accomplished every year were the Homecoming Spirit Days and the parade - no small feat, I will tell you! Apathy on everyone's part had to be defeated or at least addressed head on. Unfortunately, the many of the seniors I inherited for my first full year as the only adviser weren't really interested in working for me. That first president, however, was great. I remember when she worked all day on an award that we had no chance of winning, but she wanted to prove that we could complete the task. She called me at home around 11 at night to tell me she was done and I rushed to her house to take her and the award package to the 24-hour post office. I paid, with my own money to overnight that binder. This is the precise moment where I can pinpoint how my life would be changed by my involvement with Student Council.
My third year at the school and my second year as THE adviser witnessed some amazing accomplishments. We hosted a conference for the Michigan Association of Student Councils, brought in an amazing speaker (Stu!), had dances, and our first Homecoming pep rally. The next year, we finally won that award and continued sponsoring more and more events. The my fifth year at the school would be the most eventful. We hosted a conference on the other side of the state (Grand Rapids area), won that award again, and sponsored our first Blood Drive. My students nominated me for the Adviser of the Year - which I won for the county. Each year, I found that my presidents got stronger and more capable of acting without me holding their hands. That is exactly what I hoped would happen. I regularly stayed at school until 6, getting things ready for activities. Over the years, I have spent hundreds of my own dollars for whatever we have needed.
We have hit many rough patches. The first leave I took and then this most recent one seemed to cause a bit of a vacuum in leadership, at least among the general members. Students have become a little less dedicated to putting in time and effort. I probably lost a little focus when I became a mother. I want that edge back. Student Council is what has kept me teaching. I love the camaraderie with the kids and sense of pride we all feel when we have pulled off a big task.
I just met with my new officers this morning and I am so excited to start on the new year. We might not hit the lofty highs of past years, but we will accomplish far more than any of them believe.
I had made the vow at my previous school to fight hard for my students, and that's just what I did. I learned very quickly that my new school hadn't had a Homecoming pep rally or a non-Homecoming dance in several years. It seems that the biggest things this Student Council accomplished every year were the Homecoming Spirit Days and the parade - no small feat, I will tell you! Apathy on everyone's part had to be defeated or at least addressed head on. Unfortunately, the many of the seniors I inherited for my first full year as the only adviser weren't really interested in working for me. That first president, however, was great. I remember when she worked all day on an award that we had no chance of winning, but she wanted to prove that we could complete the task. She called me at home around 11 at night to tell me she was done and I rushed to her house to take her and the award package to the 24-hour post office. I paid, with my own money to overnight that binder. This is the precise moment where I can pinpoint how my life would be changed by my involvement with Student Council.
My third year at the school and my second year as THE adviser witnessed some amazing accomplishments. We hosted a conference for the Michigan Association of Student Councils, brought in an amazing speaker (Stu!), had dances, and our first Homecoming pep rally. The next year, we finally won that award and continued sponsoring more and more events. The my fifth year at the school would be the most eventful. We hosted a conference on the other side of the state (Grand Rapids area), won that award again, and sponsored our first Blood Drive. My students nominated me for the Adviser of the Year - which I won for the county. Each year, I found that my presidents got stronger and more capable of acting without me holding their hands. That is exactly what I hoped would happen. I regularly stayed at school until 6, getting things ready for activities. Over the years, I have spent hundreds of my own dollars for whatever we have needed.
We have hit many rough patches. The first leave I took and then this most recent one seemed to cause a bit of a vacuum in leadership, at least among the general members. Students have become a little less dedicated to putting in time and effort. I probably lost a little focus when I became a mother. I want that edge back. Student Council is what has kept me teaching. I love the camaraderie with the kids and sense of pride we all feel when we have pulled off a big task.
I just met with my new officers this morning and I am so excited to start on the new year. We might not hit the lofty highs of past years, but we will accomplish far more than any of them believe.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Student Council - Part 1
I started teaching in the fall of 1995. That is also when I first became a Student Council Adviser. I got tricked into the job. I was the new teacher (and the only white woman in the building) and the kids swore up and down that they ran themselves. At my first school, the position was unpaid, I was teaching five completely different classes, and I did not want an extracurricular activity interfering with my single social life. I agreed, knowing that I was getting suckered. That first school had very few student run activities. Adults held onto control of most activities, including Homecoming. I think this gave them the false sense that they were in charge and the the chaos that existed was an illusion. Of course, the daily smell of weed in the hall was not an illusion.
As a Student Council, we did very little. We did manage to sponsor the first Valentine's Dance in years. For me, the best part was the fact that I became acquainted with an organization called Michigan Association of Student Council (MASC). This organization gave students lots of room to create and be leaders. I was impressed as were my students. Everytime we attended an MASC conference, my students would ask "why can't we do that?" That might include over night lock-ins, more dances, or goofy spirit days. I didn't have an answer; I was too new.
I left that school after only two years. I had trained a new president and then left her. I felt tremendously guilty, but I knew that I had to move on. I did vow to myself that if I had a chance to be the Student Council Adviser at my new school, I would take it and not allow stodgy old ideas to block my students true leadership potential. Little did I know how much my life would change at the next (and current school).
More in a day or two.
As a Student Council, we did very little. We did manage to sponsor the first Valentine's Dance in years. For me, the best part was the fact that I became acquainted with an organization called Michigan Association of Student Council (MASC). This organization gave students lots of room to create and be leaders. I was impressed as were my students. Everytime we attended an MASC conference, my students would ask "why can't we do that?" That might include over night lock-ins, more dances, or goofy spirit days. I didn't have an answer; I was too new.
I left that school after only two years. I had trained a new president and then left her. I felt tremendously guilty, but I knew that I had to move on. I did vow to myself that if I had a chance to be the Student Council Adviser at my new school, I would take it and not allow stodgy old ideas to block my students true leadership potential. Little did I know how much my life would change at the next (and current school).
More in a day or two.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Summer in the City
Today was Andrew's last day of Junior Kindergarten. It has been such an eventful year, I am kind of glad that it is behind us. His report card showed us everything that last week's assessment showed us, so it was a bit anti-climatic.
The question becomes what will happen for the next two months. Of course, Andrew will get some old-fashioned summer school work, thanks to having two parents who are teachers. We have no money, so there will be no vacation.
I still have some personal goals to accomplish. There are the last 5-8 pounds to drop. I imagine that my visits to the gym will increase to about four days/nights a week. I still have a ton of writing to do on my "book." Next week is the start of a writing class, so that will give me a conducive work environment.
I have to get ready for school and I don't even know what I am teaching. I have to get ready for Student Council and I haven't even contacted my new officers. This last month has been such a haze and maze of Andrew-centric activity that I have let the ball drop in other areas.
I have the new goal of not getting lost in Andrew's diagnosis. I still need to go out and have fun and be me. I'm trying to convince some people to go to Long Island to see a certain singer (GT) in September. I have to keep vigilant to simply be a mom who happens to have a child with autism, not the Autistic Kid's mom.
That's enough to keep me busy for a while.
The question becomes what will happen for the next two months. Of course, Andrew will get some old-fashioned summer school work, thanks to having two parents who are teachers. We have no money, so there will be no vacation.
I still have some personal goals to accomplish. There are the last 5-8 pounds to drop. I imagine that my visits to the gym will increase to about four days/nights a week. I still have a ton of writing to do on my "book." Next week is the start of a writing class, so that will give me a conducive work environment.
I have to get ready for school and I don't even know what I am teaching. I have to get ready for Student Council and I haven't even contacted my new officers. This last month has been such a haze and maze of Andrew-centric activity that I have let the ball drop in other areas.
I have the new goal of not getting lost in Andrew's diagnosis. I still need to go out and have fun and be me. I'm trying to convince some people to go to Long Island to see a certain singer (GT) in September. I have to keep vigilant to simply be a mom who happens to have a child with autism, not the Autistic Kid's mom.
That's enough to keep me busy for a while.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Just the beginning
The end of the assessment process is just the beginning of a lifelong journey to manage a condition that seems to touch on every aspect of life. Andrew has been diagnosed as mildly to moderately autistic. As much as I had anticipated the results, as much as my intuition told me shortly after we came home with him in 2005, hearing the psychologist talk about the formal results of the testing was a blow for which I had no defense.
The written report is ten pages long and is a combination of the statistical results of Andrew's tests and family and observational narratives. Both my husband and I are teachers, so looking at statistics related to assessment is something we are used to doing. I can't help but think about those parents who are far less educated than we are and how they confront a litany of numbers and percentages. What was most striking to me was Andrew's score on verbal-based skills. He could easily answer many questions aloud. He stumbled, not surprisingly, at defining things in a manner that another person could understand. I remember that his definition for train (an object of obsession) had something to do with tracks and that was it. Overall, his verbal score was in the mid-normal range. His performance skills, on the other hand, were very low - 16th percentile. Tasks in this skill set included pencil and paper tasks (which he did not complete) and grouping pictures together based on similarities. The categorizing test was the one I thought he phoned in. As with any assessment, the picture you get at the time is it. If a child is not trying, that lack of effort is just mixed into the results. Overall, there was nothing in the assessment report that surprised me. I've been living this for four years now.
The report ends with nine recommendations. Some of those tips address the cognitive skills (welcome to Momma's summer school) and some address the social/behavioral issues that he exhibits. The social worker will contact us next week to set up a meeting. From there, we will set up a series of goals to help Andrew. For example, he has been screaming "I NEED HELP" when he grows frustrated at the littlest thing (i.e a Lego won't stick exactly as he wants it). Teaching him breathing exercises to help him regulate himself is very important.
I've received a great deal of encouragement from many people. I've been reminded that I am a fierce and strong and there isn't anything I wouldn't do for this little boy. I told myself that I would give myself one night for crying and then get to the business of living. That's easier said than done. I know that it will take a great effort on everyone's part to help him figure out these social situations that have prevented him from getting any birthday party invitations this year. It will take great effort to help him understand that making eye contact is important. It will take great effort to encourage to one day tell me spontaneously tell me that he loves me(I get jealous when I see his classmates run to their parents and jump in their arms and scream I love you). All of this and balancing it with the life I've been trying to carve out for myself is a daunting task.
Andrew has had to fight from the day he was left on that bus station floor. It is a marvel to me that he has come this far and I know that he will zoom to great heights. If there's one thing we can do as a team, it's to fight for what we need. I am physically and emotionally drained. I'm also grateful that my son is healthy and generally happy. His condition is not disabling and can be managed and somewhat diminished. I need to catch my breathe and get started on a different leg of this journey.
The written report is ten pages long and is a combination of the statistical results of Andrew's tests and family and observational narratives. Both my husband and I are teachers, so looking at statistics related to assessment is something we are used to doing. I can't help but think about those parents who are far less educated than we are and how they confront a litany of numbers and percentages. What was most striking to me was Andrew's score on verbal-based skills. He could easily answer many questions aloud. He stumbled, not surprisingly, at defining things in a manner that another person could understand. I remember that his definition for train (an object of obsession) had something to do with tracks and that was it. Overall, his verbal score was in the mid-normal range. His performance skills, on the other hand, were very low - 16th percentile. Tasks in this skill set included pencil and paper tasks (which he did not complete) and grouping pictures together based on similarities. The categorizing test was the one I thought he phoned in. As with any assessment, the picture you get at the time is it. If a child is not trying, that lack of effort is just mixed into the results. Overall, there was nothing in the assessment report that surprised me. I've been living this for four years now.
The report ends with nine recommendations. Some of those tips address the cognitive skills (welcome to Momma's summer school) and some address the social/behavioral issues that he exhibits. The social worker will contact us next week to set up a meeting. From there, we will set up a series of goals to help Andrew. For example, he has been screaming "I NEED HELP" when he grows frustrated at the littlest thing (i.e a Lego won't stick exactly as he wants it). Teaching him breathing exercises to help him regulate himself is very important.
I've received a great deal of encouragement from many people. I've been reminded that I am a fierce and strong and there isn't anything I wouldn't do for this little boy. I told myself that I would give myself one night for crying and then get to the business of living. That's easier said than done. I know that it will take a great effort on everyone's part to help him figure out these social situations that have prevented him from getting any birthday party invitations this year. It will take great effort to help him understand that making eye contact is important. It will take great effort to encourage to one day tell me spontaneously tell me that he loves me(I get jealous when I see his classmates run to their parents and jump in their arms and scream I love you). All of this and balancing it with the life I've been trying to carve out for myself is a daunting task.
Andrew has had to fight from the day he was left on that bus station floor. It is a marvel to me that he has come this far and I know that he will zoom to great heights. If there's one thing we can do as a team, it's to fight for what we need. I am physically and emotionally drained. I'm also grateful that my son is healthy and generally happy. His condition is not disabling and can be managed and somewhat diminished. I need to catch my breathe and get started on a different leg of this journey.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
What a day!
Today saw the last of the formal tests that have been administered to Andrew as we attempt to find out if he falls somewhere on the autism spectrum. Today's test was an MRI as requested by his doctor. She wanted to eliminated any possible medical reasons for Andrew's behavior, so besides a gazillion blood tests, she also ordered up an MRI.
To prepare for the MRI, Andrew could eat nothing after 8 this morning. Before that time, all he could consume was Jell-o, broth, and clear juice (like apple). When I told him last night that he was going to eat Jell-o for breakfast, he just giggled. In solidarity with my son (and so he wouldn't ask me why I was eating), I had a bowl of cereal and nothing else all day.
The appointment was for 12:15. I wanted him to take it easy and yet I needed to get a couple of jobs done. He helped me water the newly planted hostas and we ran three short errands. As we returned to the car after the third and final stop, the car would not start. It did not click. The only noise it made was a soft whimper, much like the one coming from Andrew in the back seat. A quick glance at the clock showed 10:45. Okay Andrew, we're going to walk. No hat or sunblock. But the route back to our house has full of trucks. I would have taken a bus, but the routes are weird and I would have had to wait for who knows how long. With a boy like Andrew, movement is the best choice. The walk took about 45 minutes (probably less than a journey on the bus). The sun was bright and we encountered very little shade. I was worried about Andrew becoming dehydrated, because he could have nothing to drink before the test. He turned out just fine and I called my husband and left him in charge of handling the car.
I had been preparing Andrew for the test by telling him that he was going to lay on a conveyor belt (like the ones at the grocery store), go into a tunnel where a big camera was going to take a picture of his brain. His reaction? "This is going to be pretty cool." We walked to the hospital (only three blocks) Of course when we got to the clinic, they had been set back in their schedule by an emergency MRI. We went in about an hour after our scheduled appointment. The technician gave Andrew the sedative and about 40 minutes later he was completely zonked out. They wheeled him into the MRI and I returned to the waiting room. A half-hour later, I went and and waited for him to wake up. He slept for another hour and would have slept for more if the technician and I hadn't woken him up. He was extremely groggy and couldn't walk. We were wheeled out to our ride at the front of the hospital.
I had no energy to cook, so pizza and ice cream were on the menu. On Thursday, the psychologist will give us her report. This one will determine if we will be eligible for special services or not. So, until Thursday, I hold my breathe.
To prepare for the MRI, Andrew could eat nothing after 8 this morning. Before that time, all he could consume was Jell-o, broth, and clear juice (like apple). When I told him last night that he was going to eat Jell-o for breakfast, he just giggled. In solidarity with my son (and so he wouldn't ask me why I was eating), I had a bowl of cereal and nothing else all day.
The appointment was for 12:15. I wanted him to take it easy and yet I needed to get a couple of jobs done. He helped me water the newly planted hostas and we ran three short errands. As we returned to the car after the third and final stop, the car would not start. It did not click. The only noise it made was a soft whimper, much like the one coming from Andrew in the back seat. A quick glance at the clock showed 10:45. Okay Andrew, we're going to walk. No hat or sunblock. But the route back to our house has full of trucks. I would have taken a bus, but the routes are weird and I would have had to wait for who knows how long. With a boy like Andrew, movement is the best choice. The walk took about 45 minutes (probably less than a journey on the bus). The sun was bright and we encountered very little shade. I was worried about Andrew becoming dehydrated, because he could have nothing to drink before the test. He turned out just fine and I called my husband and left him in charge of handling the car.
I had been preparing Andrew for the test by telling him that he was going to lay on a conveyor belt (like the ones at the grocery store), go into a tunnel where a big camera was going to take a picture of his brain. His reaction? "This is going to be pretty cool." We walked to the hospital (only three blocks) Of course when we got to the clinic, they had been set back in their schedule by an emergency MRI. We went in about an hour after our scheduled appointment. The technician gave Andrew the sedative and about 40 minutes later he was completely zonked out. They wheeled him into the MRI and I returned to the waiting room. A half-hour later, I went and and waited for him to wake up. He slept for another hour and would have slept for more if the technician and I hadn't woken him up. He was extremely groggy and couldn't walk. We were wheeled out to our ride at the front of the hospital.
I had no energy to cook, so pizza and ice cream were on the menu. On Thursday, the psychologist will give us her report. This one will determine if we will be eligible for special services or not. So, until Thursday, I hold my breathe.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Sports
I have a real love/hate relationship with sports. On one hand, I am lucky (some might say) enough to live in a city that can support sports franchises in the four major leagues. I know, it is a bit of a stretch to call the Lions a professional team, but the players do draw a salary. Conversely, I feel that sports play an all too important role in our society.
Some of my happiest memories with my Dad involve sports. We watched endless hours of professional and college athletics together. As a family, we often kept baseball statistics together. Our family never had season tickets to any of the teams in our area, but we usually went to three or four Tigers' games and one or two Red Wings' games (even when they were miserable).
I carried my enthusiasm for sports into adulthood and I found it a useful interest. Men loved that I could wear a mini skirt and talk sports. Dates took me to games using tickets that their companies gave them. Eventually, I took a second job (during my second year of teaching) as an usher at Joe Louis Arena - the home of the Wings. The first game I worked was the now infamous Wings-Avalanche game that broke out in bedlam. The goalies fought. Darren McCarthy beat the hell out of Claude LeMieux. Now that I think about, the blood lust from the crowd was a little frightening. I was completely oblivious at the time, though. The Wings won the Stanley Cup for the first time in 40 some years and I witnessed the whole thing. The following Christmas, I even drank beer out of the Stanley Cup.
Life got busy. I started a Masters program and I had to give up the ushering job. This gave me a chance to think about how weird sports are. Young men (mostly) in high school dream of being a big time athlete. Many push their still growing bodies to ridiculous limits in order to win big college scholarships. As a teacher, I can't help but wonder why we, the richest society on the planet, refuse to more heavily subsidize higher education. These young men could use their brain instead of brawn, Or even better, they could get paid right out of high school to play minor league sports and leave spaces available at universities for those who actually want an education.
These athletes are placed on a pedestal. Their every move is monitored by 24-hour sports television and radio. These forms of media create a crazy amount of faux outrage about something someone in another city wrote about our city. Oh no, someone noticed the abandoned houses in the city - damn them!
I say all this because I will watch the Red Wings tonight. With a little luck, they will win the Stanley Cup tonight and I will feel happy. It will be a tempered happiness. It will not be the same joy I felt in 1997, because I look at it with different eyes.
Some of my happiest memories with my Dad involve sports. We watched endless hours of professional and college athletics together. As a family, we often kept baseball statistics together. Our family never had season tickets to any of the teams in our area, but we usually went to three or four Tigers' games and one or two Red Wings' games (even when they were miserable).
I carried my enthusiasm for sports into adulthood and I found it a useful interest. Men loved that I could wear a mini skirt and talk sports. Dates took me to games using tickets that their companies gave them. Eventually, I took a second job (during my second year of teaching) as an usher at Joe Louis Arena - the home of the Wings. The first game I worked was the now infamous Wings-Avalanche game that broke out in bedlam. The goalies fought. Darren McCarthy beat the hell out of Claude LeMieux. Now that I think about, the blood lust from the crowd was a little frightening. I was completely oblivious at the time, though. The Wings won the Stanley Cup for the first time in 40 some years and I witnessed the whole thing. The following Christmas, I even drank beer out of the Stanley Cup.
Life got busy. I started a Masters program and I had to give up the ushering job. This gave me a chance to think about how weird sports are. Young men (mostly) in high school dream of being a big time athlete. Many push their still growing bodies to ridiculous limits in order to win big college scholarships. As a teacher, I can't help but wonder why we, the richest society on the planet, refuse to more heavily subsidize higher education. These young men could use their brain instead of brawn, Or even better, they could get paid right out of high school to play minor league sports and leave spaces available at universities for those who actually want an education.
These athletes are placed on a pedestal. Their every move is monitored by 24-hour sports television and radio. These forms of media create a crazy amount of faux outrage about something someone in another city wrote about our city. Oh no, someone noticed the abandoned houses in the city - damn them!
I say all this because I will watch the Red Wings tonight. With a little luck, they will win the Stanley Cup tonight and I will feel happy. It will be a tempered happiness. It will not be the same joy I felt in 1997, because I look at it with different eyes.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Grrr - writer's block
In the beginning of April, I was struck by some divine force and wrote prolifically. Not so much on the blog, but on my dream - my book. For the last month, however, I have found that I can't even look at what I've written. Perhaps my mind is too busy with the assessment ride we have been taking lately.
I find this to be very frustrating. I know that there are writers who have children and still manage to accomplish something on a regular basis. I need to figure out for myself how to get to that spot. I sometimes fantasize about going away for a week or two to some secluded spot, in a far away city, in order to find my muse. New York, London, and Paris all come to mind. A small cramped room with something that resembles a kitchen and a busy bar just down the street. I'd spend all day writing and at night, I'd devour the lights and sounds around me.
I'd come home, completed book clutched to my chest and then I'd make dinner.
I find this to be very frustrating. I know that there are writers who have children and still manage to accomplish something on a regular basis. I need to figure out for myself how to get to that spot. I sometimes fantasize about going away for a week or two to some secluded spot, in a far away city, in order to find my muse. New York, London, and Paris all come to mind. A small cramped room with something that resembles a kitchen and a busy bar just down the street. I'd spend all day writing and at night, I'd devour the lights and sounds around me.
I'd come home, completed book clutched to my chest and then I'd make dinner.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Blocks, questions, pictures, and even more questions
Today was the first day of the formal Andrew assessment. We had a 9:30 appointment to meet with the psychology student who came to our house last week. We had dutifully completed both of the questionnaires she had given us. We have shared about a million stories. Now, it was Andrew's turn to show what he could do.
Unfortunately, he woke up crabby. His body still needs to nap 3-4 times a week, but he simply refuses. He hadn't napped all week, so his body was feeling the cumulative effect of not enough sleep. Therefore, we had a number of mini meltdowns long before we left the house. Needless to say, I was a little concerned with how he would react to a formal testing situation. He kept asking me what would happen if he wanted to see me while he was with the psychologist. I didn't know how to respond, so I kind of left it unanswered. I packed a small snack and off we went.
When we got to the center, we were taken to a sparse room with a kid-sized table, a few kid-sized chairs and a mirror. No bright pictures on the wall. No windows. I suppose that the spartan like conditions reduce distractions. Andrew stayed in the room while I went into an adjoining room with our social worker. We listened on an intercom and watched through a two-way mirror. I felt a like I was on a police drama behind that mirror.
What I witnessed was an eye-opener in so many ways. I discovered that my son is very capable of repeating simple patterns using small blocks. I discovered that, if necessary, he can sit for long periods of time, attempting boring tasks (maybe he will work in a cubicle one day). I discovered that when bored, Andrew will begin to phone in his answers and roll his eyes.
Overall, he seemed to do okay on the cognitive tasks he was asked to complete. The tester asked me if there were items that I knew he could do, but blew off. I pointed out several instance where just put no effort into his answer. She told me that she would try those specific ones again on Monday.
On Monday, I was told that the testing would be more play based, more fun. I will actually be in the room, though off to the side. I will be interested to see how that goes. If I remember correctly, this testing will more directly address Andrew's social skills.
Unfortunately, he woke up crabby. His body still needs to nap 3-4 times a week, but he simply refuses. He hadn't napped all week, so his body was feeling the cumulative effect of not enough sleep. Therefore, we had a number of mini meltdowns long before we left the house. Needless to say, I was a little concerned with how he would react to a formal testing situation. He kept asking me what would happen if he wanted to see me while he was with the psychologist. I didn't know how to respond, so I kind of left it unanswered. I packed a small snack and off we went.
When we got to the center, we were taken to a sparse room with a kid-sized table, a few kid-sized chairs and a mirror. No bright pictures on the wall. No windows. I suppose that the spartan like conditions reduce distractions. Andrew stayed in the room while I went into an adjoining room with our social worker. We listened on an intercom and watched through a two-way mirror. I felt a like I was on a police drama behind that mirror.
What I witnessed was an eye-opener in so many ways. I discovered that my son is very capable of repeating simple patterns using small blocks. I discovered that, if necessary, he can sit for long periods of time, attempting boring tasks (maybe he will work in a cubicle one day). I discovered that when bored, Andrew will begin to phone in his answers and roll his eyes.
Overall, he seemed to do okay on the cognitive tasks he was asked to complete. The tester asked me if there were items that I knew he could do, but blew off. I pointed out several instance where just put no effort into his answer. She told me that she would try those specific ones again on Monday.
On Monday, I was told that the testing would be more play based, more fun. I will actually be in the room, though off to the side. I will be interested to see how that goes. If I remember correctly, this testing will more directly address Andrew's social skills.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Meltdown and Recovery in Detroit
Last night, I attended a symposium, sponsored in part by The Nation magazine, focused on the current economic crisis. The moderator, John Nichols, stated that the decision to come to Detroit was easy. FDR came here when he was campaigning against Hoover. The modern labor movement was born in Detroit. Malcom X came to Detroit and Dr. King first gave his "I Have a Dream" speech in Detroit. Finally, the collapse of the auto industry has had a devastating effect on the city and the surrounding communities.
The panel consisted of six highly regarded activists, both local and national. The local activists were Dianne Freeley, a retired UAW worker; Joann Watson, a city council member; Elena Herrada, a community organizer in the Latino community; and the legendary Grace Lee Boggs. The national voices included John Conyers, author Barbara Ehrenreich, and economist/author Robert Pollin.
John Conyers spoke first (and he stayed the whole evening). The speech was a bit rambling, but the essence spoke to the notion that President Obama is a smart man, but that not everyone around him is not, including advisers. Of course, in my mind, that begs the question why did such a smart President pick a bunch of dummies to advice him. But, I digress.
The rest of the evening saw the various panelist answering a specific question from the moderator. For example, the first question went to Robert Pollin. It was a nice, simple question - What went wrong? His answer to this question was truly an eye-opener.
According the Pollin, in the 1970s, our political system turned itself over entirely to capitalist. This is marked by two "events" The first is that "full employment" ceased being the central premise in politics. In 1972, the average, non-supervisory worker made a little over $19 an hour (adjusted to current values). By 2007, before the current crisis really took hold, that wage had fallen to $17.40 an hour. This represents about an 11 percent decrease. In the same time period, U.S. productivity rose a whopping 90 percent.
The second thing that began to happen in the 1970s was the slow dismantling of the Glass-Steagall Act which separated commercial banking and investment banking interests. The bill was full repealed in 1999 (thanks a lot Bill).
It was important to hear from Barbara Ehrenreich that her book, Nickled and Dimed, was published in 2001 (pre-9/11). Her research was done during the boom years of the 90s. That means all the low wage workers she met were not seeing any noticeable boom. That was, of course, due to the fact that housing costs were sky rocketing out of control.
City Council woman Joann Watson reminded us that corporations have never voluntarily done the right thing - including stopping child labor. Grace Lee Boggs said that we have to re-image both ourselves and our planet as we attempt to rebuild. We can no longer afford to be crass consumers, the planet can simply longer sustain that type of behavior.
There was so much good information that it's hard to piece it all together. The most important feeling I took out of this symposium was the realization that there are people out there fighting for the poor, the planet, and our future. It was good to get my hands on information about actions that are currently taking place in the city or will be soon. For example, from June 15-17, CEOs from a number of giant corporations will meet in Detroit. To counter all that unfettered greed, a People's Summit and Tent City has been organized and will take place near the ballparks. Additionally, from June 22-26, 2010, the US Social Forum will take place in Detroit. One of the goals I had set for myself at the beginning of the leave was to reconnect with the activist I was in college. These two events will give me a perfect opportunity to do just that.
The panel consisted of six highly regarded activists, both local and national. The local activists were Dianne Freeley, a retired UAW worker; Joann Watson, a city council member; Elena Herrada, a community organizer in the Latino community; and the legendary Grace Lee Boggs. The national voices included John Conyers, author Barbara Ehrenreich, and economist/author Robert Pollin.
John Conyers spoke first (and he stayed the whole evening). The speech was a bit rambling, but the essence spoke to the notion that President Obama is a smart man, but that not everyone around him is not, including advisers. Of course, in my mind, that begs the question why did such a smart President pick a bunch of dummies to advice him. But, I digress.
The rest of the evening saw the various panelist answering a specific question from the moderator. For example, the first question went to Robert Pollin. It was a nice, simple question - What went wrong? His answer to this question was truly an eye-opener.
According the Pollin, in the 1970s, our political system turned itself over entirely to capitalist. This is marked by two "events" The first is that "full employment" ceased being the central premise in politics. In 1972, the average, non-supervisory worker made a little over $19 an hour (adjusted to current values). By 2007, before the current crisis really took hold, that wage had fallen to $17.40 an hour. This represents about an 11 percent decrease. In the same time period, U.S. productivity rose a whopping 90 percent.
The second thing that began to happen in the 1970s was the slow dismantling of the Glass-Steagall Act which separated commercial banking and investment banking interests. The bill was full repealed in 1999 (thanks a lot Bill).
It was important to hear from Barbara Ehrenreich that her book, Nickled and Dimed, was published in 2001 (pre-9/11). Her research was done during the boom years of the 90s. That means all the low wage workers she met were not seeing any noticeable boom. That was, of course, due to the fact that housing costs were sky rocketing out of control.
City Council woman Joann Watson reminded us that corporations have never voluntarily done the right thing - including stopping child labor. Grace Lee Boggs said that we have to re-image both ourselves and our planet as we attempt to rebuild. We can no longer afford to be crass consumers, the planet can simply longer sustain that type of behavior.
There was so much good information that it's hard to piece it all together. The most important feeling I took out of this symposium was the realization that there are people out there fighting for the poor, the planet, and our future. It was good to get my hands on information about actions that are currently taking place in the city or will be soon. For example, from June 15-17, CEOs from a number of giant corporations will meet in Detroit. To counter all that unfettered greed, a People's Summit and Tent City has been organized and will take place near the ballparks. Additionally, from June 22-26, 2010, the US Social Forum will take place in Detroit. One of the goals I had set for myself at the beginning of the leave was to reconnect with the activist I was in college. These two events will give me a perfect opportunity to do just that.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
That was relatively painless
For two hours this morning, my husband and I answered questions about Andrew's various quirks, his behavior, and his growth over the last four years. This was the next step in the assessment merry-go-round. A psychology student completing her practicum came out to our house to observe Andrew in his natural habitat and to talk to us.
I have to admit that I was slightly dreading this step. I couldn't help but feel that our parenting skills were going on trial. Heck, I thought that even our marriage might work it's way into Andrew's overall evaluation. From what I can tell, my concerns were baseless.
The interview started off with allowing us to freestyle tell her our concerns about Andrew's behavior, along with anecdotal evidence to support our concerns. I started with my concerns about Andrew's social (or lack there of) skills with peers. At some point, my husband sucked some of the air out the room with a long series of anecdotes. I did a fair amount of head knodding and agreeing. Our narrative seemed to take about an hour.
The second hour was centered around a long list of questions that she asked us, which again we supported with yet more anecdotes. This poor woman now knows every detail of Andrew's short life, as I think she heard every story possible about the little guy. Of course, Andrew put on quite a show for her, from the very second she walked in the house. He immediately asked her what her favorite animal and color were - as these have been the latest in a series of obsessive questions that Andrew asks and asks and asks and asks...
Next week, Andrew and I will go into the Children First office. She explained that he will go through a series of cognitive tests, while sitting at a table. Very formal. This is to get some sort of baseline on his intellectual ability. I don't worry so much about his intellect. I'm not one of those mom's to brag that my kid was reading at 20 months, but he certainly is a bright cookie in several areas. He's great with numbers and easily counts to 100 and he seems to be trying to figure out the pattern for everything that come after 100. Based on letter sounds, he can pick out words from short texts. So, those are really positive things.
On to round two.
I have to admit that I was slightly dreading this step. I couldn't help but feel that our parenting skills were going on trial. Heck, I thought that even our marriage might work it's way into Andrew's overall evaluation. From what I can tell, my concerns were baseless.
The interview started off with allowing us to freestyle tell her our concerns about Andrew's behavior, along with anecdotal evidence to support our concerns. I started with my concerns about Andrew's social (or lack there of) skills with peers. At some point, my husband sucked some of the air out the room with a long series of anecdotes. I did a fair amount of head knodding and agreeing. Our narrative seemed to take about an hour.
The second hour was centered around a long list of questions that she asked us, which again we supported with yet more anecdotes. This poor woman now knows every detail of Andrew's short life, as I think she heard every story possible about the little guy. Of course, Andrew put on quite a show for her, from the very second she walked in the house. He immediately asked her what her favorite animal and color were - as these have been the latest in a series of obsessive questions that Andrew asks and asks and asks and asks...
Next week, Andrew and I will go into the Children First office. She explained that he will go through a series of cognitive tests, while sitting at a table. Very formal. This is to get some sort of baseline on his intellectual ability. I don't worry so much about his intellect. I'm not one of those mom's to brag that my kid was reading at 20 months, but he certainly is a bright cookie in several areas. He's great with numbers and easily counts to 100 and he seems to be trying to figure out the pattern for everything that come after 100. Based on letter sounds, he can pick out words from short texts. So, those are really positive things.
On to round two.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Best Concerts
FM has requested a topic from me. I am a very kind person, so I am going to kindly oblige my friend. Here are the Top 5 concerts I have ever attended.
1. The Clash (1983-ish): This was my first concert and it took place at the beautiful Fox Theatre. We were in row three and I remember very distinctly that I was wearing my leather motorcycle jacket. I also remember the boys sitting behind us. They were wearing varsity jackets and were completely stoned out of their minds. They couldn't even sit up properly to watch the show. Joe Strummer was amazing, tearing through each punk classic with passion. My ears rang for a weak after the show.
2. Glenn Tilbrook and the Fluffers (3/27/2009): There were so many personal magical moments in this evening, I am not sure where to start. The meet and greet gave me a chance to get my geek on. Then Glenn call ME on stage. After the show, I had the opportunity to hang out with Glenn. Plus, his stage persona here was so different than the one he projects on stage with Squeeze. He was buoyant and chatty, a side I had never seen and I have seen Squeeze in concert six times.
3. Rent: La Boeheme set to rock music, this musical shook me to my core the first time I saw it. I cried the first time the cast sang "Seasons of Love" and then I couldn't stop weeping when Angel died. I just love this musical.
4. The Violent Femmes (1986-ish): This show occurred well past their heyday. But, if all a band has is that magical debut record that everyone of my generation has, that's enough for a show. Everyone in the audience could sing every single song, which made for a joyous atmosphere.
5. They Might Be Giants (2005): We went to this concert just before we went to China. The show took place in the Majestic, which is not air conditioned. Enormous fans were place around the perimeter to the seatless audience section. The crowd was a family crowd because the band had just release a kids CD (Robot Parade - it's great). We all looked miserable due to the heat, until the band came out. By the end of the evening, the audience had formed a conga line and the band had screamed "thank you to the lady in glasses" and pointed at me.
* Bonus - All Squeeze shows except the 2008 show. Chris Difford looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. Other than show, they have been awesome everytime I have seen them.
1. The Clash (1983-ish): This was my first concert and it took place at the beautiful Fox Theatre. We were in row three and I remember very distinctly that I was wearing my leather motorcycle jacket. I also remember the boys sitting behind us. They were wearing varsity jackets and were completely stoned out of their minds. They couldn't even sit up properly to watch the show. Joe Strummer was amazing, tearing through each punk classic with passion. My ears rang for a weak after the show.
2. Glenn Tilbrook and the Fluffers (3/27/2009): There were so many personal magical moments in this evening, I am not sure where to start. The meet and greet gave me a chance to get my geek on. Then Glenn call ME on stage. After the show, I had the opportunity to hang out with Glenn. Plus, his stage persona here was so different than the one he projects on stage with Squeeze. He was buoyant and chatty, a side I had never seen and I have seen Squeeze in concert six times.
3. Rent: La Boeheme set to rock music, this musical shook me to my core the first time I saw it. I cried the first time the cast sang "Seasons of Love" and then I couldn't stop weeping when Angel died. I just love this musical.
4. The Violent Femmes (1986-ish): This show occurred well past their heyday. But, if all a band has is that magical debut record that everyone of my generation has, that's enough for a show. Everyone in the audience could sing every single song, which made for a joyous atmosphere.
5. They Might Be Giants (2005): We went to this concert just before we went to China. The show took place in the Majestic, which is not air conditioned. Enormous fans were place around the perimeter to the seatless audience section. The crowd was a family crowd because the band had just release a kids CD (Robot Parade - it's great). We all looked miserable due to the heat, until the band came out. By the end of the evening, the audience had formed a conga line and the band had screamed "thank you to the lady in glasses" and pointed at me.
* Bonus - All Squeeze shows except the 2008 show. Chris Difford looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. Other than show, they have been awesome everytime I have seen them.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Time Travel
This is a game that I play frequently. It usually happens when friends and I are cooking an elaborate meal and consuming too much wine (as if there is such a quantity). I'm usually the one who starts it. It starts with the question: If you could travel to any time to see any musical act, who would it be? I'll give you my top five.
1. David Bowie on the Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars tour. Debauchery on stage - I'm there.
2. The Beatles at Shea Stadium. I want to be a part of history.
3. The Smiths, any time. On the day of my high school graduation party, the Smiths were performing in town (I can't remember the venue). I begged my mother to let me go, but nooooooo. Those relatives had come to see me. Sigh, it appears that I might have to bring this up with my therapist.
4. Lollapalooza #1. What was I thinking? Pearl Jam? Siouxie and the Banshees? The Red Hot Chili Peppers? I can't believe I didn't go.
5. Woodstock. I promise that I would not have taken the brown acid.
Which performers would you travel back in time to see?
1. David Bowie on the Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars tour. Debauchery on stage - I'm there.
2. The Beatles at Shea Stadium. I want to be a part of history.
3. The Smiths, any time. On the day of my high school graduation party, the Smiths were performing in town (I can't remember the venue). I begged my mother to let me go, but nooooooo. Those relatives had come to see me. Sigh, it appears that I might have to bring this up with my therapist.
4. Lollapalooza #1. What was I thinking? Pearl Jam? Siouxie and the Banshees? The Red Hot Chili Peppers? I can't believe I didn't go.
5. Woodstock. I promise that I would not have taken the brown acid.
Which performers would you travel back in time to see?
Thursday, May 7, 2009
27 tests
No, that's not how many tests I'm giving my students between now and the end of the school year. I'm on leave - remember? That number represents the number of medical tests Andrew will undergo while we begin the assessment process.
The first thing our social worker wanted us to do was to take Andrew to the pediatrician to see if she wanted to test Andrew for any possible medical conditions that could explain his behavior. So, I took Andrew yesterday. The pediatrician is thoroughly competent, if somewhat distant. She took copious notes about his language and asked me dozens of questions about his appetite and his interactions with peers. Yesterday was even the first day she had ever joked with me, laughing after he stepped off the scale. He currently weighs 37 pounds. Three more pounds and he can switch to a booster seat in the car. I joked that it was time to fill him up on cake and ice cream and she chimed in with "Ah, the summer diet."
As we walked out the door, she handed me three sheets of papers with tests that she wants to run on Andrew. He has to have 24 different blood tests, two urine tests, and one MRI. She wants to check his chromosomes, his metabolic something-or other, and his brain. Our social worker told us that the psychiatrist was glad to hear the name of our pediatrician because she is so thorough.
I went this morning to a small lab near my gym. It isn't as busy as many of the other labs in town and it's walking distance to a bakery. I wanted to know how many vials of blood would be taken and how long all of these tests would take. I wanted to have a strategy going into this; I don't want to overwhelm Andrew with too much on one day. Unfortunately, the technician told me that there would several tests she couldn't run and that the only place to do them was the hospital. Also, it appears that Andrew will have to fast for eight hours before one of the tests.
The hospital is only 3 blocks from our house - so that's a plus. A serious negative is that I'm sure it will be packed, unlike the little lab I visited today. I think I'll find the lab tomorrow and the just pick a day next week to go. I suspect I might make cookies before we go to the lab. I don't know who'll need them more, Andrew or me.
The first thing our social worker wanted us to do was to take Andrew to the pediatrician to see if she wanted to test Andrew for any possible medical conditions that could explain his behavior. So, I took Andrew yesterday. The pediatrician is thoroughly competent, if somewhat distant. She took copious notes about his language and asked me dozens of questions about his appetite and his interactions with peers. Yesterday was even the first day she had ever joked with me, laughing after he stepped off the scale. He currently weighs 37 pounds. Three more pounds and he can switch to a booster seat in the car. I joked that it was time to fill him up on cake and ice cream and she chimed in with "Ah, the summer diet."
As we walked out the door, she handed me three sheets of papers with tests that she wants to run on Andrew. He has to have 24 different blood tests, two urine tests, and one MRI. She wants to check his chromosomes, his metabolic something-or other, and his brain. Our social worker told us that the psychiatrist was glad to hear the name of our pediatrician because she is so thorough.
I went this morning to a small lab near my gym. It isn't as busy as many of the other labs in town and it's walking distance to a bakery. I wanted to know how many vials of blood would be taken and how long all of these tests would take. I wanted to have a strategy going into this; I don't want to overwhelm Andrew with too much on one day. Unfortunately, the technician told me that there would several tests she couldn't run and that the only place to do them was the hospital. Also, it appears that Andrew will have to fast for eight hours before one of the tests.
The hospital is only 3 blocks from our house - so that's a plus. A serious negative is that I'm sure it will be packed, unlike the little lab I visited today. I think I'll find the lab tomorrow and the just pick a day next week to go. I suspect I might make cookies before we go to the lab. I don't know who'll need them more, Andrew or me.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Mother's Day
Shhh...I have a confession to make. I'm just not that hip on Hallmark holidays. Valentine's, Sweetest Day, you name it, I don't really celebrate it. This creates a small dilemma. This coming Sunday is, of course, Mother's Day. The papers are loaded with jewelry ads, chocolate ads, even small kitchen appliance ads. None of it is particularly appealing to me. Don't get me wrong, I like flowers and chocolate. I'm not that big on bling and if anyone ever buys me a small kitchen appliance as a gift - I hope he likes the guest room.
What I want more than anything on Sunday is a day on my own - perhaps to wander the Detroit Institute of Arts. I'd have a chance to actually look at artwork without worrying that small hands are trying to reach through the canvas. Maybe I'd even take my notebook and try to do some writing.
Of course, I'd also settle for a night where I could go dancing at a loud, dark bar. I've been wanting to do this for months. I don't know why. Logically, I understand that those dancing days are long gone. I haven't been dancing in 10 years. I miss it. That would be a great gift.
A blender, on the other hand, would suck.
What I want more than anything on Sunday is a day on my own - perhaps to wander the Detroit Institute of Arts. I'd have a chance to actually look at artwork without worrying that small hands are trying to reach through the canvas. Maybe I'd even take my notebook and try to do some writing.
Of course, I'd also settle for a night where I could go dancing at a loud, dark bar. I've been wanting to do this for months. I don't know why. Logically, I understand that those dancing days are long gone. I haven't been dancing in 10 years. I miss it. That would be a great gift.
A blender, on the other hand, would suck.
Monday, May 4, 2009
The Assessment Merry-Go-Round
When we decided to seek assessment for Andrew, we were told that we were on a waiting list and that the assessment would start some time in the fall. Well, it turns out that Children First hired a few more psychiatrists in order to clear up the backlog. We will now know by the end of May if Andrew does indeed fall in the autism spectrum.
The start of the assessment program means that we will have a plethora of activities to complete. The first was to compile a list of red-flag behaviors that we have observed over the three and a half years Andrew has been home with us. We were given this task on Thursday afternoon and it's due late Monday afternoon. We chose to break the list into language concerns and social concerns and as I have mentioned before, these concerns are pretty extensive. The biggest lately is the repetitive nature of his language. Everyday he asks the same questions, dozens of times, even though he knows the answers. I have spent the year listening to his classmates and they simply have more varied speech than he does.
The second task was to make an appointment with the doctor to determine if there are any medical (i.e hearing) issues that could be the cause for the red flag behaviors. We'll go to the doctor on Wednesday morning to determine all of that.
We meet with the social worker on his case later this afternoon. I know that she observed him in his class today, so we'll get some feedback about that. I'll keep everyone up to date as we move through this process.
The start of the assessment program means that we will have a plethora of activities to complete. The first was to compile a list of red-flag behaviors that we have observed over the three and a half years Andrew has been home with us. We were given this task on Thursday afternoon and it's due late Monday afternoon. We chose to break the list into language concerns and social concerns and as I have mentioned before, these concerns are pretty extensive. The biggest lately is the repetitive nature of his language. Everyday he asks the same questions, dozens of times, even though he knows the answers. I have spent the year listening to his classmates and they simply have more varied speech than he does.
The second task was to make an appointment with the doctor to determine if there are any medical (i.e hearing) issues that could be the cause for the red flag behaviors. We'll go to the doctor on Wednesday morning to determine all of that.
We meet with the social worker on his case later this afternoon. I know that she observed him in his class today, so we'll get some feedback about that. I'll keep everyone up to date as we move through this process.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Do the meditation rock
Unfortunately, I couldn't find a you tube video of Allen Ginsberg reciting his poem "Do the Meditation." I saw him perform that poem probably two or three times, the most exhilarating at my very own high school. He came and read poetry during my senior year and he led an auditorium full of high school students in a brief meditation. Ever since that moment, I have been interested in both Zen Buddhism and meditation.
I never followed up on this interest for too many complicated and shallow reasons. I now feel that I will no longer delay following an interest because I feel so much more confident in my ability to handle the consequences, whatever they may be.
A few weeks ago, I noticed that something called the Yoga House opened in a small office space down the hall from my gym. There were some information cards posted along the window, so I took one. I read the schedule and saw that there was a session called Meditation & Breath Awareness. This took me back to my long standing interest and I decided that I would go.
The space was really quite small, with three or four mats laid out on the floor. The instructor, Rupert, had lit incense and candles. One other person showed up for the session. He suggested that I sit on an oval shaped pillow, to elevate hip hips over my knees.
We then spent to next 60 minutes focused on controlled breathing for example breathing in different parts of our lungs. It was quite a remarkable feeling the air enter and leave different parts of my lungs, due to a conscious decision on my part. I felt relaxed and refreshed at the end. The only trouble I had was my right hip and knee were hurting a bit. Next time, he told me that I could sit differently to alleviate the pain. I will definitely go back.
I never followed up on this interest for too many complicated and shallow reasons. I now feel that I will no longer delay following an interest because I feel so much more confident in my ability to handle the consequences, whatever they may be.
A few weeks ago, I noticed that something called the Yoga House opened in a small office space down the hall from my gym. There were some information cards posted along the window, so I took one. I read the schedule and saw that there was a session called Meditation & Breath Awareness. This took me back to my long standing interest and I decided that I would go.
The space was really quite small, with three or four mats laid out on the floor. The instructor, Rupert, had lit incense and candles. One other person showed up for the session. He suggested that I sit on an oval shaped pillow, to elevate hip hips over my knees.
We then spent to next 60 minutes focused on controlled breathing for example breathing in different parts of our lungs. It was quite a remarkable feeling the air enter and leave different parts of my lungs, due to a conscious decision on my part. I felt relaxed and refreshed at the end. The only trouble I had was my right hip and knee were hurting a bit. Next time, he told me that I could sit differently to alleviate the pain. I will definitely go back.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
My evil plot
I do not like lawns. Expanses of suburban green squares. If it were solely up to me, our lawn would disappear under rocks, ferns, and flowers. I have repeatedly made this suggestion, pointing out how we would no longer need to water and cut. To be honest, our front yard is very small and mowing it takes all of about 15-20 minutes. But, still, that's 15-20 minutes that could be spent doing something more enjoyable. My husband is NOT on board. Therefore, I must proceed in small increments.
I am a less than novice gardener, so I take bits of advice from many resources. For this little project, I used an idiot-proof book called The Way We Garden Now, by Katherine Whiteside. This is the second time I've checked this book out from the library and I find her directions for projects to be undestandable and realistic.
I started today by plotting out a small strip for a flower bed, along the walk from the driveway to the porch. In the spring, this area gets a ton of sun because the leaves on the trees have not yet come in. It will be perfect for tulips, daffodils, etc. In the summer, It gets filtered light, so I foresee ferns and maybe some hostas. I hammered six stakes into the ground and tied string around them to mark off the area. I didn't measure, I just eye-balled the dimensions. That was a deliberate choice; I want the area to look more natural and less manicured. I then attempted to cut the grass as short as possible. Unfortunately, the lawn mower handle was broken, so I didn't cut the grass as short as I should have. I soaked the grass and laid newspapers on top of the wet ground. Today is extremely windy, so I had to scrounge to find rocks to keep the paper in place. Next, I soaked the newspapers and then laid a weed barrier on top. This is the step I am not sure is going to work. The store I went to this morning sold only a biodegradable paper weed barrier. That sound good, except I'm not sure that it will last long enough to kill the grass underneath. I'm pretty sure that I'll have to find a woven weed barrier that I'll be able to use a few times. I soaked the weed barrier and voila, in about a month, I should have a spot for low light flowers and ferns.
I am a less than novice gardener, so I take bits of advice from many resources. For this little project, I used an idiot-proof book called The Way We Garden Now, by Katherine Whiteside. This is the second time I've checked this book out from the library and I find her directions for projects to be undestandable and realistic.
I started today by plotting out a small strip for a flower bed, along the walk from the driveway to the porch. In the spring, this area gets a ton of sun because the leaves on the trees have not yet come in. It will be perfect for tulips, daffodils, etc. In the summer, It gets filtered light, so I foresee ferns and maybe some hostas. I hammered six stakes into the ground and tied string around them to mark off the area. I didn't measure, I just eye-balled the dimensions. That was a deliberate choice; I want the area to look more natural and less manicured. I then attempted to cut the grass as short as possible. Unfortunately, the lawn mower handle was broken, so I didn't cut the grass as short as I should have. I soaked the grass and laid newspapers on top of the wet ground. Today is extremely windy, so I had to scrounge to find rocks to keep the paper in place. Next, I soaked the newspapers and then laid a weed barrier on top. This is the step I am not sure is going to work. The store I went to this morning sold only a biodegradable paper weed barrier. That sound good, except I'm not sure that it will last long enough to kill the grass underneath. I'm pretty sure that I'll have to find a woven weed barrier that I'll be able to use a few times. I soaked the weed barrier and voila, in about a month, I should have a spot for low light flowers and ferns.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
"The Bird" is the word
I turned nine in the summer of 1976. It was a busy exciting summer. Of course, it was the Bicentennial celebration. My Girl Scout troupe marched in our hometown parade and I wore dress that was kind of "colonial" style. It was a long dress with a brown gingham pattern on the skirt.
1976 was the summer that I fell in love with baseball. The Tigers were a hopeless team, usually mired in fifth place. As fans, we were pleased if they finished ahead of the Indians. The big story on the team had been a home town guy named Ron LeFlore who came out of prison into the big leagues and stole a ton of bases. He had been the story until this lanky kid from Wooster, MA pitched. Mark Fidrych made his major league pitching debut in mid May and beat the Indians. I remember exactly where I was. My family was driving somewhere on Telegraph Road and the radio announcers started talking about this pitcher and how he would kneel down on the mound to smooth out the dirt. We laughed, but the kid won the game and I was hooked.
Later that summer, my parents took us to our first game and it was a game when Fidrych was pitching. The Tigers had poor attendance, except for his games. I've read that his games averaged 40,000 plus while non-Fidrych games averaged 14,000. We waited in a huge crowd outside of old Tiger Stadium waiting for tickets. It was hot, probably in July and I remember feeling woozy. As we made out way through the gate, ushers handed out Bird whistles. The game was magic. He won, but I can no longer remember if it was a complete game.
That summer saw Bird-mania all over Detroit. I had at least two t-shirts, one was an iron on decal from the Free Press. There were songs and people seemed happy.
His career never panned out; a knee injury did him in. He died this week on his farm, crushed by a truck. He won the Rookie of the Year award in 1976 and then basically faded away into a regular life. I know that Detroiters never forgot him. Who could forget a summer like that. Thanks Mark
I haven't quite mastered the art of linking to YouTube but here's a little video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gzJui7dqVaw
1976 was the summer that I fell in love with baseball. The Tigers were a hopeless team, usually mired in fifth place. As fans, we were pleased if they finished ahead of the Indians. The big story on the team had been a home town guy named Ron LeFlore who came out of prison into the big leagues and stole a ton of bases. He had been the story until this lanky kid from Wooster, MA pitched. Mark Fidrych made his major league pitching debut in mid May and beat the Indians. I remember exactly where I was. My family was driving somewhere on Telegraph Road and the radio announcers started talking about this pitcher and how he would kneel down on the mound to smooth out the dirt. We laughed, but the kid won the game and I was hooked.
Later that summer, my parents took us to our first game and it was a game when Fidrych was pitching. The Tigers had poor attendance, except for his games. I've read that his games averaged 40,000 plus while non-Fidrych games averaged 14,000. We waited in a huge crowd outside of old Tiger Stadium waiting for tickets. It was hot, probably in July and I remember feeling woozy. As we made out way through the gate, ushers handed out Bird whistles. The game was magic. He won, but I can no longer remember if it was a complete game.
That summer saw Bird-mania all over Detroit. I had at least two t-shirts, one was an iron on decal from the Free Press. There were songs and people seemed happy.
His career never panned out; a knee injury did him in. He died this week on his farm, crushed by a truck. He won the Rookie of the Year award in 1976 and then basically faded away into a regular life. I know that Detroiters never forgot him. Who could forget a summer like that. Thanks Mark
I haven't quite mastered the art of linking to YouTube but here's a little video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gzJui7dqVaw
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Music, music, music
A few weeks ago, MaryB at alone with each other wrote about 25 books or authors that had a big impact on her. I am the world's lamest English teacher, so I actually added nothing to the conversation. Well, I haven't yet come down from my Cleveland high, so I am still in a musical mood. I thought that I'd post a list of the top 30 (I tried to stay to 25, but I just couldn't) of songs or musical acts that have had a big impact on my life. The list is alphabetical.
1. "Saturday Night" by the Bay City Rollers: Okay, laugh all you want. I was 9 or 10 years old and I couldn't get enough of these Scottish boys. It wasn't the plaid on their clothes. It was that they left the top button on their pants undone. I knew that made them slightly dangerous and it peaked my very youthful attention.
2. The Beatles: For a while, as a non-baby boomer, I was completely sick of the Beatles. As a matter of fact, I still feel that way about Led Zeppelin. Unlike Led Zeppelin, I have come to fully appreciate how brilliant these guys were. I made sure that Sgt Pepper was the first CD I ever purchased.
3. David Bowie: I'd have to say that I love everything that David Bowie has ever recorded (except for China Girl). For me, the best are the albums from the Berlin trilogy: Low, Heros, and Lodger. He is artist who stayed one step ahead of trends and provoke controversy before Madonna could spell the word.
4. The Clash: This is yet another artist that I can't make one single song choice. London Calling is rife with amazing songs that touch on many genres. The Sex Pistols may have been the first, but, like Bowie, the Clash wouldn't be pigeon holed into making only one type of music. The first concert I ever saw was The Clash on the Combat Rock tour. I wore that t-shirt thread bare.
5. "Appalachian Spring" by Aaron Copeland: I love the scope and sweep of this composition. I am a complete novice when it comes to orchestral music, but this took my breath away the first time I heard it.
6. "32 Flavors" by Alana Davis: This is a one hit wonder that just struck a nerve. I have always felt like I am so much more than what people can see - a virtual 32 flavors.
7. "Tangled up in Blue" by Bob Dylan: In the summer of 1985, I was the full-time baby-sitter for this very annoying yuppie couple who lived around the block. The three-year old spoke in a perma-whine and the six-year old was already telling his parents that he didn't want to attend the University of Michigan. The best part of this deal for me was the parents copy of Bob Dylan's "Blood on the Tracks." I was already a Dylan fan, but the story telling in "Tangled up in Blue" has influenced the way I write short stories and poems.
8. "Lost in the Music" by Eminem: Heads and shoulders the best song ever about wanting to be famous. I don't really like the rest of Em's songs, but I can't get enough of this one.
9. Billie Holliday: She was my introduction to blues. An excellent place to start.
10. "Raw Power" by Iggy and the Stooges: Punk before the Ramones and the Pistols. This band is not in the Rock n' Roll Hall of Fame and I won't visit until that is rectified. Good Detroit rock n'roll.
11. "Hammer and a Nail" by the Indigo Girls: I often like music that has a message and I love the message in this song. If I need a pick me up, I crank this tune, just to remind me that I can do anything.
12. "At Last" by Etta James: Yet another that introduced me to a different type of music. It's sexy and sophisticated.
13. Janis Joplin: I don't know what I can say about Janis Joplin that hasn't already been said.
14. John Lennon: He is the Beatle I followed for the rest of his career. He wasn't afraid to experiment or lay raw emotion out on the floor. I admired his courage.
15. "American Pie" by Don McLean: I was born in 1967 and this song is like a history lesson for me. I love all the cultural references and I love Buddy Holly.
16. "Sing! Sing! Sing!" by Glenn Miller: When I was a small child, we had this enormous stereo and at night, my father would play big band music. I need total silence to fall asleep, so I would beg my father to turn the music off. As a result, I hated big band music. At some point as a teenager, I heard "Sing! Sing! Sing!" and I did a 180. Of course, I didn't tell my dad.
17. "Smells Like Teen Spirit" by Nirvana: Thank Buddha for grunge and in particular this song. Without it, we might have been stuck with big hair bands like Ratt and Poison for longer. Kurt Cobain's lyrics about complete boredom and detachment from the world are powerful.
18. "Bizarre Love Triangle" by New Order": This song is a mish-mash of memories for me. Right after college, I was engaged to be married. Three months before the wedding, I went and visited a friend in Indiana. She and I went with her brother and some of his friends to the bar. This song came on and one of the friends, Joe, asked me to dance and let's just say that something...sparked. I went home and called off the wedding. More recently, this is the first "pop" song that I played for Andrew and it is the first song to which we danced.
19. "Black" by Pearl Jam: I love the line "I know you'll be the sun in somebody else's sky, but why can't it be mine." Eddie Vedder delivers it in such an angst driven way, I just want to give him a hug. I find the whole song to be very romantic.
20. "South Central Rain" by R.E.M.: There were so many choices from R.E.M. Time and time again, I come back to this song. It's comfort food for my soul.
21. Rent: I have seen this musical perhaps four or five times. There is something there that speaks to a part of me that is hidden away for my own safety. "Forget regrets, or life is your's to miss."
22. "Gimme Shelter" by the Rolling Stones: I love, love, love Marianne Faithful's solo in this song. Everytime I hear it, I want to sing like her.
23. Squeeze: Hmm...where to start? Chris Difford's positively brilliant lyrics or Glenn Tilbrook's masterful construction of perfect pop tunes? It doesn't matter, this has been my number one band forever and I suspect that they always will be.
24. The Smiths: Snarky and cad-like lyrics backed by Johnny Marr's amazing guitar playing. This band could have given Squeeze a run for the number one spot, except Glenn is soooo much cuter than Morrissey.
25. Tosca: This first opera that had me in it's grip from the opening curtain. I changed my mind about opera after seeing Tosca.
26. "Herion" by the Velvet Underground: A dangerous song. I was overwhelmed by the feedback and honesty of the lyrics. I have never taken drugs, but this song is great.
27. Paul Weller: It doesn't matter if this man is in The Jam, the Style Council, or on his own - he is GOD!
28. Stevie Wonder: I could write the same thing here as I wrote for Paul Weller. Stevie has tackle so many different types of music and a wide array of subject matters. Most of it amazing.
29. "Everytime You Go Away" by Paul Young: The summer after I graduated from high school, 1985, my family took in a French exchange student, Staphane, for a month. He was very cute, but my parents kept a very short leash on us - planning events or outings every night. I should have lost something that summer, but we couldn't shake my parents. This song was playing in the car as we drove him to the airport. We both cried like babies.
30. X: The best American punk band of the 80s and Excene Cervenka rocks.
Do you care to share any of your favorite songs or performers.
1. "Saturday Night" by the Bay City Rollers: Okay, laugh all you want. I was 9 or 10 years old and I couldn't get enough of these Scottish boys. It wasn't the plaid on their clothes. It was that they left the top button on their pants undone. I knew that made them slightly dangerous and it peaked my very youthful attention.
2. The Beatles: For a while, as a non-baby boomer, I was completely sick of the Beatles. As a matter of fact, I still feel that way about Led Zeppelin. Unlike Led Zeppelin, I have come to fully appreciate how brilliant these guys were. I made sure that Sgt Pepper was the first CD I ever purchased.
3. David Bowie: I'd have to say that I love everything that David Bowie has ever recorded (except for China Girl). For me, the best are the albums from the Berlin trilogy: Low, Heros, and Lodger. He is artist who stayed one step ahead of trends and provoke controversy before Madonna could spell the word.
4. The Clash: This is yet another artist that I can't make one single song choice. London Calling is rife with amazing songs that touch on many genres. The Sex Pistols may have been the first, but, like Bowie, the Clash wouldn't be pigeon holed into making only one type of music. The first concert I ever saw was The Clash on the Combat Rock tour. I wore that t-shirt thread bare.
5. "Appalachian Spring" by Aaron Copeland: I love the scope and sweep of this composition. I am a complete novice when it comes to orchestral music, but this took my breath away the first time I heard it.
6. "32 Flavors" by Alana Davis: This is a one hit wonder that just struck a nerve. I have always felt like I am so much more than what people can see - a virtual 32 flavors.
7. "Tangled up in Blue" by Bob Dylan: In the summer of 1985, I was the full-time baby-sitter for this very annoying yuppie couple who lived around the block. The three-year old spoke in a perma-whine and the six-year old was already telling his parents that he didn't want to attend the University of Michigan. The best part of this deal for me was the parents copy of Bob Dylan's "Blood on the Tracks." I was already a Dylan fan, but the story telling in "Tangled up in Blue" has influenced the way I write short stories and poems.
8. "Lost in the Music" by Eminem: Heads and shoulders the best song ever about wanting to be famous. I don't really like the rest of Em's songs, but I can't get enough of this one.
9. Billie Holliday: She was my introduction to blues. An excellent place to start.
10. "Raw Power" by Iggy and the Stooges: Punk before the Ramones and the Pistols. This band is not in the Rock n' Roll Hall of Fame and I won't visit until that is rectified. Good Detroit rock n'roll.
11. "Hammer and a Nail" by the Indigo Girls: I often like music that has a message and I love the message in this song. If I need a pick me up, I crank this tune, just to remind me that I can do anything.
12. "At Last" by Etta James: Yet another that introduced me to a different type of music. It's sexy and sophisticated.
13. Janis Joplin: I don't know what I can say about Janis Joplin that hasn't already been said.
14. John Lennon: He is the Beatle I followed for the rest of his career. He wasn't afraid to experiment or lay raw emotion out on the floor. I admired his courage.
15. "American Pie" by Don McLean: I was born in 1967 and this song is like a history lesson for me. I love all the cultural references and I love Buddy Holly.
16. "Sing! Sing! Sing!" by Glenn Miller: When I was a small child, we had this enormous stereo and at night, my father would play big band music. I need total silence to fall asleep, so I would beg my father to turn the music off. As a result, I hated big band music. At some point as a teenager, I heard "Sing! Sing! Sing!" and I did a 180. Of course, I didn't tell my dad.
17. "Smells Like Teen Spirit" by Nirvana: Thank Buddha for grunge and in particular this song. Without it, we might have been stuck with big hair bands like Ratt and Poison for longer. Kurt Cobain's lyrics about complete boredom and detachment from the world are powerful.
18. "Bizarre Love Triangle" by New Order": This song is a mish-mash of memories for me. Right after college, I was engaged to be married. Three months before the wedding, I went and visited a friend in Indiana. She and I went with her brother and some of his friends to the bar. This song came on and one of the friends, Joe, asked me to dance and let's just say that something...sparked. I went home and called off the wedding. More recently, this is the first "pop" song that I played for Andrew and it is the first song to which we danced.
19. "Black" by Pearl Jam: I love the line "I know you'll be the sun in somebody else's sky, but why can't it be mine." Eddie Vedder delivers it in such an angst driven way, I just want to give him a hug. I find the whole song to be very romantic.
20. "South Central Rain" by R.E.M.: There were so many choices from R.E.M. Time and time again, I come back to this song. It's comfort food for my soul.
21. Rent: I have seen this musical perhaps four or five times. There is something there that speaks to a part of me that is hidden away for my own safety. "Forget regrets, or life is your's to miss."
22. "Gimme Shelter" by the Rolling Stones: I love, love, love Marianne Faithful's solo in this song. Everytime I hear it, I want to sing like her.
23. Squeeze: Hmm...where to start? Chris Difford's positively brilliant lyrics or Glenn Tilbrook's masterful construction of perfect pop tunes? It doesn't matter, this has been my number one band forever and I suspect that they always will be.
24. The Smiths: Snarky and cad-like lyrics backed by Johnny Marr's amazing guitar playing. This band could have given Squeeze a run for the number one spot, except Glenn is soooo much cuter than Morrissey.
25. Tosca: This first opera that had me in it's grip from the opening curtain. I changed my mind about opera after seeing Tosca.
26. "Herion" by the Velvet Underground: A dangerous song. I was overwhelmed by the feedback and honesty of the lyrics. I have never taken drugs, but this song is great.
27. Paul Weller: It doesn't matter if this man is in The Jam, the Style Council, or on his own - he is GOD!
28. Stevie Wonder: I could write the same thing here as I wrote for Paul Weller. Stevie has tackle so many different types of music and a wide array of subject matters. Most of it amazing.
29. "Everytime You Go Away" by Paul Young: The summer after I graduated from high school, 1985, my family took in a French exchange student, Staphane, for a month. He was very cute, but my parents kept a very short leash on us - planning events or outings every night. I should have lost something that summer, but we couldn't shake my parents. This song was playing in the car as we drove him to the airport. We both cried like babies.
30. X: The best American punk band of the 80s and Excene Cervenka rocks.
Do you care to share any of your favorite songs or performers.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Cleveland Rocks!!
I spent this past Friday night in Cleveland at a place called the Beachland Ballroom. I went there with my girlfriend Laurie to see my favorite singer, Glenn Tilbrook, with his new band The Fluffers. Glenn had previously been the singer for Squeeze.
I have to first admit that I have had a crush on Glenn since I was 13 years old and I first saw him on MTV. His voice and his good looks sent me to the moon. I have seen Squeeze perhaps a half dozen times.
In January, I found out that he was touring and that meet and greet tickets were available. Unfortunately, he wasn't coming to Detroit. The closest he would be was Cleveland. My other problem was our lack of money. But, undaunted, I set about convincing my husband. When I told him that Laurie had agreed, he said sure.
We left the Detroit area around 11:30 and the total trip took us a little over three hours. Unfortunately, our hotel was a bit of a pit (the Comfort Inn in Wickliffe is not worth $90/night). Laurie took a nap while I read the Squeeze: Song by Song book that I brought for Glenn to sign.
When she woke up, it was time to get dressed and find a place to eat. I wanted to look attractive, but not slutty, so I brought way too much clothing. Eventually, I decided on the knee length black skirt, the new calf high black boots, and a tank top with a lacy front (not sheer) that showed some cleavage. I never show cleavage, so I felt very odd in this shirt. I threw on my jean jacket and away we went.
We found the Beachland and then went to dinner. Laurie has a GPS system on her phone and it has a restaurant finding feature. She read some names and we decided on Bistro 185. The food was wonderful. We ate appetizers, I had a small plate with scallops and shrimp in a cheesy alfredo sauce and she had a smoked duck breast on potato pancakes.
We timed everything perfectly and arrived on time for the meet and greet. There were only six people signed up for the meet and greet. We were taken to a back bar area and were given tour posters. Simon Hanson, the drummer, arrived first and gave hugs all around. Glenn arrived next and proved to be a very genial fellow. He graciously posed for pictures, hugging and kissing complete strangers. He signed my book. He asked what I did for a living and he said that he thought that teaching was a cool thing to do, like good for the world.
The meet and greet lasted about a half-hour and then the band went to go get ready. On stage, the band was joyous, bouncing, and tight. A real highlight came for me during the first set. On their album, Pandemonium Ensues, Johnny Depp (a big Squeeze fan) does a voice over for an instrumental piece called "Too Close To the Sun." All Johnny does is repeat those words a intervals. Needless to say, Mr. Depp is not on the road with Glenn and his band, so an audience volunteer was sought. I jumped up and raised my hand and Glenn picked me. I went around to the stairs, Glenn had remembered my name (wow!) and he told me just to watch him for my cue. Glenn played guitar to my immediate left and I spoke "too close to the sun," into the microphone whenever Glenn told me. Before leaving the stage, both he and the bassist, Lucy Shaw gave me big hugs. Where ever I went in the audience after that, people screamed my name and gave me high fives.
After the show, Glenn and the band came out to the merchandise area, where more autographs were signed. I bought the new CD and the whole band signed it. I had the chance to chat with Glenn for quite some time. I can't believe how many pictures I have where it is just the two of us chatting. He was very kind and generous with his time.
I only hope that next time, he and his band swing through Detroit.
I have to first admit that I have had a crush on Glenn since I was 13 years old and I first saw him on MTV. His voice and his good looks sent me to the moon. I have seen Squeeze perhaps a half dozen times.
In January, I found out that he was touring and that meet and greet tickets were available. Unfortunately, he wasn't coming to Detroit. The closest he would be was Cleveland. My other problem was our lack of money. But, undaunted, I set about convincing my husband. When I told him that Laurie had agreed, he said sure.
We left the Detroit area around 11:30 and the total trip took us a little over three hours. Unfortunately, our hotel was a bit of a pit (the Comfort Inn in Wickliffe is not worth $90/night). Laurie took a nap while I read the Squeeze: Song by Song book that I brought for Glenn to sign.
When she woke up, it was time to get dressed and find a place to eat. I wanted to look attractive, but not slutty, so I brought way too much clothing. Eventually, I decided on the knee length black skirt, the new calf high black boots, and a tank top with a lacy front (not sheer) that showed some cleavage. I never show cleavage, so I felt very odd in this shirt. I threw on my jean jacket and away we went.
We found the Beachland and then went to dinner. Laurie has a GPS system on her phone and it has a restaurant finding feature. She read some names and we decided on Bistro 185. The food was wonderful. We ate appetizers, I had a small plate with scallops and shrimp in a cheesy alfredo sauce and she had a smoked duck breast on potato pancakes.
We timed everything perfectly and arrived on time for the meet and greet. There were only six people signed up for the meet and greet. We were taken to a back bar area and were given tour posters. Simon Hanson, the drummer, arrived first and gave hugs all around. Glenn arrived next and proved to be a very genial fellow. He graciously posed for pictures, hugging and kissing complete strangers. He signed my book. He asked what I did for a living and he said that he thought that teaching was a cool thing to do, like good for the world.
The meet and greet lasted about a half-hour and then the band went to go get ready. On stage, the band was joyous, bouncing, and tight. A real highlight came for me during the first set. On their album, Pandemonium Ensues, Johnny Depp (a big Squeeze fan) does a voice over for an instrumental piece called "Too Close To the Sun." All Johnny does is repeat those words a intervals. Needless to say, Mr. Depp is not on the road with Glenn and his band, so an audience volunteer was sought. I jumped up and raised my hand and Glenn picked me. I went around to the stairs, Glenn had remembered my name (wow!) and he told me just to watch him for my cue. Glenn played guitar to my immediate left and I spoke "too close to the sun," into the microphone whenever Glenn told me. Before leaving the stage, both he and the bassist, Lucy Shaw gave me big hugs. Where ever I went in the audience after that, people screamed my name and gave me high fives.
After the show, Glenn and the band came out to the merchandise area, where more autographs were signed. I bought the new CD and the whole band signed it. I had the chance to chat with Glenn for quite some time. I can't believe how many pictures I have where it is just the two of us chatting. He was very kind and generous with his time.
I only hope that next time, he and his band swing through Detroit.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Looking for a job
I knew that things would be tight financially when I decided to take a year off of work. I just didn't realize that I would have to get a job.
I have spent the last few mornings going to retails stores of the big box nature, filling out applications. I have been surprised by one change since my retail days (in college 20 years ago), all of these stores want a resume. I can't understand why. These are minimum wage jobs. I have a resume, displaying how wonderful a teacher I am. I can't justify skewing my CV to show the vast retail experience I accumulated before becoming a teacher.
My job search took me to the mall today. I was struck how by how youth orientated the mall really is. I didn't feel comfortable filling out an application at most of the stores in the mall, mostly because the merchandise is not meant for me. Those places don't want someone with wisps of gray hair selling size 2 pants to teenage girls.
Unfortunately, the economy is such that almost no one is hiring anyway. I got a lot of "we're just not hiring." Well, tomorrow, I hit the big box hardware stores. At least at those places, I won't be tempted to spend too much cash.
I have spent the last few mornings going to retails stores of the big box nature, filling out applications. I have been surprised by one change since my retail days (in college 20 years ago), all of these stores want a resume. I can't understand why. These are minimum wage jobs. I have a resume, displaying how wonderful a teacher I am. I can't justify skewing my CV to show the vast retail experience I accumulated before becoming a teacher.
My job search took me to the mall today. I was struck how by how youth orientated the mall really is. I didn't feel comfortable filling out an application at most of the stores in the mall, mostly because the merchandise is not meant for me. Those places don't want someone with wisps of gray hair selling size 2 pants to teenage girls.
Unfortunately, the economy is such that almost no one is hiring anyway. I got a lot of "we're just not hiring." Well, tomorrow, I hit the big box hardware stores. At least at those places, I won't be tempted to spend too much cash.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Testing PaLooza
I have come to the realization that I miss work. The chaos, the noise, the kids - all of it. Except this week.
This is the week during which all juniors in the state of Michigan take standardize tests to prove that their teachers are worthy of holding down a job. I always hate testing week. First of all, thanks to the pressure of NCLB and the parasitic charter schools, I spend the whole month of February doing intensive test prep - during class time. Because juniors will take the ACT tomorrow, I spend an inordinate amount of time drilling them on grammar rules that we have gradually reviewed all year. We also perform timed reading tasks. By the time we actually get to test week, everyone is stressed and anxious.
The two days of testing that follow the ACT (yes, there are three day of testing - for a grand total of 12 hours), students will take state one test that cover some of the same material, but at a lower skill level. This test is called Work Keys and it seems to be geared toward entry level job skills. The final test students take is a social studies test that requires two essays in three hours.
To accommodate all of this testing, my district runs half days, keeping non-testing students at home. At the end of it, everyone is spent and drained. And for what? To tell me that my immigrant students don't test as well as their suburban counterparts? To try and drive a stake in my heart and make me feel like I'm a failure? To get more kids to go to privately operated charter schools, circumventing teachers' unions?
If students from lower socio-economic neighborhoods tend to do drastically poorer on tests - doesn't it stand to reason that poverty is an underlying cause? Maybe we should address the larger issue.
This is the week during which all juniors in the state of Michigan take standardize tests to prove that their teachers are worthy of holding down a job. I always hate testing week. First of all, thanks to the pressure of NCLB and the parasitic charter schools, I spend the whole month of February doing intensive test prep - during class time. Because juniors will take the ACT tomorrow, I spend an inordinate amount of time drilling them on grammar rules that we have gradually reviewed all year. We also perform timed reading tasks. By the time we actually get to test week, everyone is stressed and anxious.
The two days of testing that follow the ACT (yes, there are three day of testing - for a grand total of 12 hours), students will take state one test that cover some of the same material, but at a lower skill level. This test is called Work Keys and it seems to be geared toward entry level job skills. The final test students take is a social studies test that requires two essays in three hours.
To accommodate all of this testing, my district runs half days, keeping non-testing students at home. At the end of it, everyone is spent and drained. And for what? To tell me that my immigrant students don't test as well as their suburban counterparts? To try and drive a stake in my heart and make me feel like I'm a failure? To get more kids to go to privately operated charter schools, circumventing teachers' unions?
If students from lower socio-economic neighborhoods tend to do drastically poorer on tests - doesn't it stand to reason that poverty is an underlying cause? Maybe we should address the larger issue.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
An Up Date
When a parent thinks that her child might have a condition like Asperger's, the best thing to do is to get right to business.
Yesterday, I told Andrew's teacher that we wanted to proceed with any testing that would be available. She in turned got word to the special education coordinator for my son's school. Because she knows my husband, she e-mailed him, asking him to call.
He spoke with the special education coordinator who told him that the waiting list for testing through the school district is a year. She suggested that we use Children First. This is an organization with which we have been involved since Andrew came home. They have helped us with information about attachment, speech/language development, and even toilet training. To be honest, I don't know what we would have done without all of the wonderful people from their organization.
I e-mailed the speech pathologist who has been assigned to Andrew's case for the whole time. No sooner had I done that than she knocked on our door. It turned out that we had an appointment today with her and the social worker. We had not written down the appointment, so we weren't expecting them. They will put us on their testing waiting list. Unlike the school, the wait list for Children First is only seven or eight months long. That means some time in the fall, Andrew will be assessed.
In the meantime, on top of all the reading I have to do for the AP course, I will now have to add books about Asperger's. It seems I always have four books on the go. Maybe that is why I never finish one.
Thank you to everyone who has sent ways thoughts this way. I truly appreciate it.
Yesterday, I told Andrew's teacher that we wanted to proceed with any testing that would be available. She in turned got word to the special education coordinator for my son's school. Because she knows my husband, she e-mailed him, asking him to call.
He spoke with the special education coordinator who told him that the waiting list for testing through the school district is a year. She suggested that we use Children First. This is an organization with which we have been involved since Andrew came home. They have helped us with information about attachment, speech/language development, and even toilet training. To be honest, I don't know what we would have done without all of the wonderful people from their organization.
I e-mailed the speech pathologist who has been assigned to Andrew's case for the whole time. No sooner had I done that than she knocked on our door. It turned out that we had an appointment today with her and the social worker. We had not written down the appointment, so we weren't expecting them. They will put us on their testing waiting list. Unlike the school, the wait list for Children First is only seven or eight months long. That means some time in the fall, Andrew will be assessed.
In the meantime, on top of all the reading I have to do for the AP course, I will now have to add books about Asperger's. It seems I always have four books on the go. Maybe that is why I never finish one.
Thank you to everyone who has sent ways thoughts this way. I truly appreciate it.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
The 'A' word
There has been a small portion of my brain and heart that has dreaded this moment for a long time. As I picked Andrew up from school, the para-professional who has been working with him mentioned that she attended a workshop yesterday. That workshop was about Asperger's Syndrome. She said, "You know Miss, he fits many of the symptoms." I abruptly nodded my head and said, "I know." I didn't mean to be so rude to her. She has been wonderful with Andrew. Patient and loving, she has worked hard to help Andrew integrate with his class mates.
As the Mayo Clinic site states, all kids have quirks. It evens reassures parents that just because your child displays a couple a symptoms, it doesn't means that your child has Aperger's.
Andrew displays five symptoms in a fairly over-the-top manner.
1. One-sided conversations: This accounts for about 80% of my day. Andrew will get lost in his own obsessive train of thought (i.e. How many years until I am 20? What will my voice sound like when I'm 20?) to the point that he doesn't even hear me asking him to put his boots on. Either I end up raising my voices (which causes an Andrew meltdown) or I have to physically drag him to the boots and force them into his hands. Every fucking morning - this is our routine.
2.Lack of eye contact: Since day one, we have worked on eye contact, as a means of attachment. Adopted children have a tendency to avoid eye contact, so this has been a huge issue in our house. Still, if we ask Andrew to look at us, he'll look at the top of our head, over the shoulder - any place but our eyes.
3. Intense obsession over one or two objects: I would cry almost everyday in the fall because Andrew felt compelled to pick up every leaf, acorn, or pine cone we would see on the sidewalk while walking to school. His constant yanking on my arms gave me a mild case of carpel tunnel. It also took us forever to get to school and garnered him the nickname - Nature Boy.
4.Lack of empathy: He has been getting better here. Just yesterday, he asked me how my back was feeling. There are many times where he doesn't pick up social cues from his classmates. Today, as we were leaving, a little girl gave him a hug and he just stood there until I encouraged him to hug her back.
5. Poor coordination: This has been another major area of concern since day one. For the first two weeks, Andrew's 14 month-old back muscles were so weak he would randomly flop over knock his little head on the ground. He's better now, but his core muscles still show signs of weakness.
Mother's intuition has told me that somewhere along the line, a teacher would express these concerns about Andrew. My husband has tried to allay those concerns by telling me that Andrew is a "young" four. I don't know. I sense that we will enter the testing before the end of the year.
As the Mayo Clinic site states, all kids have quirks. It evens reassures parents that just because your child displays a couple a symptoms, it doesn't means that your child has Aperger's.
Andrew displays five symptoms in a fairly over-the-top manner.
1. One-sided conversations: This accounts for about 80% of my day. Andrew will get lost in his own obsessive train of thought (i.e. How many years until I am 20? What will my voice sound like when I'm 20?) to the point that he doesn't even hear me asking him to put his boots on. Either I end up raising my voices (which causes an Andrew meltdown) or I have to physically drag him to the boots and force them into his hands. Every fucking morning - this is our routine.
2.Lack of eye contact: Since day one, we have worked on eye contact, as a means of attachment. Adopted children have a tendency to avoid eye contact, so this has been a huge issue in our house. Still, if we ask Andrew to look at us, he'll look at the top of our head, over the shoulder - any place but our eyes.
3. Intense obsession over one or two objects: I would cry almost everyday in the fall because Andrew felt compelled to pick up every leaf, acorn, or pine cone we would see on the sidewalk while walking to school. His constant yanking on my arms gave me a mild case of carpel tunnel. It also took us forever to get to school and garnered him the nickname - Nature Boy.
4.Lack of empathy: He has been getting better here. Just yesterday, he asked me how my back was feeling. There are many times where he doesn't pick up social cues from his classmates. Today, as we were leaving, a little girl gave him a hug and he just stood there until I encouraged him to hug her back.
5. Poor coordination: This has been another major area of concern since day one. For the first two weeks, Andrew's 14 month-old back muscles were so weak he would randomly flop over knock his little head on the ground. He's better now, but his core muscles still show signs of weakness.
Mother's intuition has told me that somewhere along the line, a teacher would express these concerns about Andrew. My husband has tried to allay those concerns by telling me that Andrew is a "young" four. I don't know. I sense that we will enter the testing before the end of the year.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Funny boy
The other night, my son Andrew made a very funny comment at dinner. He stated quite directly that he wanted to be a girl. I am a very open-minded, progressive woman, but those words out of my four year old's mouth threw me for a loop.
I took a deep breath and asked him why. He explained that he like girls, especially ones who wore pretty clothes. "Oh", I said, "what kind of pretty clothes?" Andrew thought for a second as he explored his dinner plate with his fingers. It turns out that my son likes girls who wear clothes with flower patterns.
I took a deep breath and asked him why. He explained that he like girls, especially ones who wore pretty clothes. "Oh", I said, "what kind of pretty clothes?" Andrew thought for a second as he explored his dinner plate with his fingers. It turns out that my son likes girls who wear clothes with flower patterns.
Monday, February 9, 2009
A Double Whammy
Well, the results from the second test are in and it's official, I have spinal osteoporosis. The surprise was that I am also developing arthritis in my lower back. This came as a shock as I have not been really suffering any unusual back discomfort.
My doctor has prescribed Actenol and physical therapy so I can really focus in on strengthening by back and ab muscles.
If I were not trying to lose weight, I might have dived nose first into a pint of Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Brownie ice cream. Or Cherry Garcia. Alas, I fought off the urge and maintained some will power. The ice cream would have given me a huge calcium bump today.
My doctor has prescribed Actenol and physical therapy so I can really focus in on strengthening by back and ab muscles.
If I were not trying to lose weight, I might have dived nose first into a pint of Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Brownie ice cream. Or Cherry Garcia. Alas, I fought off the urge and maintained some will power. The ice cream would have given me a huge calcium bump today.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Not exactly nostalgia
I'm not a very sentimental person. I don't sit around moping about the inevitable changes that happen to places that tie me to my past. Of all the places that have disappeared since my wistful youth, I only miss three of them - School Kids Records, Drakes, and the original Borders. Ironically, all of those places were within three blocks of each other in Ann Arbor.
Lately, I have been feeling like I'm missing the past, a little. I find that I miss living in the States.
I was overwhelmed with the desire to move home last weekend. I was running errands in the Detroit area and quite suddenly it hit me. I sense that this feeling has been growing since the presidential election. I want very much to do what I can to help fix the mess from the past eight years. Here in Windsor, my ability to affect change in the States is somewhat muted. I know that I should concentrate on helping Windsor through the same tough times that Detroit is experiencing. I just don't feel the same attachment to Windsor as I feel to Detroit. If someone asks me where I'm from, I'm still just as likely to say Detroit.
Maybe once the weather breaks I'll start to reconnect with my neighborhood.
Lately, I have been feeling like I'm missing the past, a little. I find that I miss living in the States.
I was overwhelmed with the desire to move home last weekend. I was running errands in the Detroit area and quite suddenly it hit me. I sense that this feeling has been growing since the presidential election. I want very much to do what I can to help fix the mess from the past eight years. Here in Windsor, my ability to affect change in the States is somewhat muted. I know that I should concentrate on helping Windsor through the same tough times that Detroit is experiencing. I just don't feel the same attachment to Windsor as I feel to Detroit. If someone asks me where I'm from, I'm still just as likely to say Detroit.
Maybe once the weather breaks I'll start to reconnect with my neighborhood.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Fighting
I'm fighting writer's block.
Maybe it's really writer's apprehension
My mind is full of jumbled
mumbled
thoughts.
Some of them bad.
I can't put them to paper.
The old adage tells us that
"the pen is mightier than the sword."
Breathing life into my incoherent
naughty thoughts could kill someone.
That would be messy.
Oh,
to have the money to make
a frivolouspurchasethatcoulddistractmefor
a few hours
OOOO. Look! Shiny!
Instead, I build a wall.
Maybe it's really writer's apprehension
My mind is full of jumbled
mumbled
thoughts.
Some of them bad.
I can't put them to paper.
The old adage tells us that
"the pen is mightier than the sword."
Breathing life into my incoherent
naughty thoughts could kill someone.
That would be messy.
Oh,
to have the money to make
a frivolouspurchasethatcoulddistractmefor
a few hours
OOOO. Look! Shiny!
Instead, I build a wall.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
This sucks
I am 41 years old. I have never been one of those women who thinks that shaving a few years off her age is as natural as shaving her legs. Unfortunately, my body is much older than 41.
About 14 years ago, my cycle was very erratic. To be honest, I was living a rather...rambunctious lifestyle. Every time I missed a period, or it was late, I feared that I was about to become a single mother. I was also just starting my teaching career and experiencing high levels of stress. I mentioned my concerns to a friend who told me to get to the doctor because I could have cancer. I hadn't really considered cancer, so I immediately sought medical advice.
Well, I was poked, prodded, and pricked. I went to see my doctor one day and got a biopsy I wasn't expecting. Finally, at the ripe old age of 32, it was determined that I had started menopause. No babies for me. I was utterly bereft. I'll never forget just losing it in front of a group of fairly wild ninth graders I was teaching. I had just had the biopsy and I simply couldn't handle their incessant chatter. I broke down and cried in front of the students. They were stunned and many of my Student Council babies came to my room to help me get through the rest of the day.
I'm pretty much over the fact that I have never been pregnant. Adopting the world's cutest and smartest boy helped alleviate those anguished feelings. The only reason I have felt the need to relive all of this is a diagnosis I received from my doctor today. Based on a bone density scan, it appears that I have developed osteoporosis of the spine. While I certainly won't die from this condition, it can lead to complications, as I get much older, that could kill me. It can also lead to me getting a lot shorter or to that humped over look that some elderly people have.
If I am anything like my relatives, I figure that I've got another 40 years or so, all of it while managing this condition. I'm horrified at the thought of being all hunched over. My doctor would like to run one more test, to see if the reading is accurate. She said that sometimes conditions like scoliosis (which I have) cause a false reading. I hope that she's right.
About 14 years ago, my cycle was very erratic. To be honest, I was living a rather...rambunctious lifestyle. Every time I missed a period, or it was late, I feared that I was about to become a single mother. I was also just starting my teaching career and experiencing high levels of stress. I mentioned my concerns to a friend who told me to get to the doctor because I could have cancer. I hadn't really considered cancer, so I immediately sought medical advice.
Well, I was poked, prodded, and pricked. I went to see my doctor one day and got a biopsy I wasn't expecting. Finally, at the ripe old age of 32, it was determined that I had started menopause. No babies for me. I was utterly bereft. I'll never forget just losing it in front of a group of fairly wild ninth graders I was teaching. I had just had the biopsy and I simply couldn't handle their incessant chatter. I broke down and cried in front of the students. They were stunned and many of my Student Council babies came to my room to help me get through the rest of the day.
I'm pretty much over the fact that I have never been pregnant. Adopting the world's cutest and smartest boy helped alleviate those anguished feelings. The only reason I have felt the need to relive all of this is a diagnosis I received from my doctor today. Based on a bone density scan, it appears that I have developed osteoporosis of the spine. While I certainly won't die from this condition, it can lead to complications, as I get much older, that could kill me. It can also lead to me getting a lot shorter or to that humped over look that some elderly people have.
If I am anything like my relatives, I figure that I've got another 40 years or so, all of it while managing this condition. I'm horrified at the thought of being all hunched over. My doctor would like to run one more test, to see if the reading is accurate. She said that sometimes conditions like scoliosis (which I have) cause a false reading. I hope that she's right.
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