Beauty

Tonight we’re enjoying the company of our three grandchildren.  As we drove west toward our home, from the backseat Lucy, four years old said to me, “Grandma of my favorite things is to watch the sunset.”  "Your favorite thing is to watch sunsets?  "No Grandma, one of my favorite things."  “Look now Grandma!”   Beauty with a child's eyes.

Small World, I Hope!

When I was in my late teens our church sponsored a refugee family from Eritrea.  My father was a very generous farmer and he would often supply the family with beef and pork when he sent animals to slaughter.   It was not uncommon for Dad to get Christmas cards from families years after they’d moved to other areas of the nation.

My daughter and I had dinner tonight and in conversation she mentioned a friend’s family were from  Ethiopia –Eritrea.  She mentioned that the community is very close knit.  As the sponsored family gained independence we lost touch.  I’m now wondering if news may be forthcoming.

Is that a Mountain?

When my son asked me tonight if he was always a worrier as a child I was taken aback.  I never thought of him as concerned, never as worried.  Oh the things you don’t know about your children.  Then I recalled myself as a child.  When we went for long car rides, like the trip north to my grandparent’s house, I was full of concern. I always worried that our car wouldn’t be able to make it up big hills I saw as I peered over the seat.  From my back seat spot I thought every hill was a mountain and we surely wouldn’t make it to the top.  I also worried we’d roll backwards to the bottom and crash the cars behind us.  I’m fairly certain I never voiced my concern to my parents!

Drama

“Mrs. Kidder, Wanie is hearting me on the wug, and I don’t wike it.” 

“Lanie is,… I don’t understand?”"Tell me more."

“When we’re on the wug, she does this.” 

“Oh, did you give her a bug and a wish?”

“Yath, and she keeps doing it.”

“I’ll keep out eye out for that.”

“Mrs. Kidder?”  Said with a heavy sigh, “Wainie keeps moving her name magnet next to my magnet”

“Did you give her a bug and a wish?”

“Yath, and she keeps doing it?”

“We’ll talk about our name magnets in morning meeting.”

“Fanks.”

Interesting Class This Year

I’ve been heard to tease the special education teacher, that this year my caseload is higher than hers.  I have two students in my class, A & B, who’ve been identified as cognitively impaired, another little guy (C) I’d be shocked if the recent testing did not identify as even more profoundly cognitively impaired, and a little cutie (D) that is selectively mute with a motor planning delay and sensory issues.  This isn’t even addressing the other little fellow (E) who runs around the room and talks (yells) a mile a minute, yet can count well over 100, knows all his letters and sounds and can’t hold a thought long enough to draw or write it.  I have another student with severe speech and language problems (F), so challenging I’ve just now been able to understand what he’s talking about without 6 or 7 repeats   questions.  Oh, and (G), another little one with BIG speech challenges, but fortunately I’ve had her older sister and brother and they had the same issues, so I quickly relearned to understand her dialect. 

Today was the perfect storm of paperwork.  A 135 question survey and another 60 question survey for “E”, a survey for my nonspeaking child (D) and a classroom involvement questionnaire for our school psychologist for “C”. Each one asked for written narratives and examples of learning, learning concerns and any other situations I felt needed to be known.  Three hours after dismissal I completed all the forms and letters.  Were it not a violation of confidentiality any one of those narratives would have made a wonderful Slice!

I am not Qualified for this...

I have a unique challenge in my class this year.  One of the oldest children in my class is also my smallest.  This little cherub is being helped by a team of specialists.  She is  “selectively mute”, with about 13 words.  To further complicate her learning she has motor planning delays and various sensory concerns. 

I have never felt so inadequate.  I want her to have a happy and successful experience.  I want her to be a member of our class, not to be treated as a mascot.  Because she is so small her classmates want to baby her.  While to some this looks precious, to me it takes away her independence 

I have pushed our Intermediate School System to service her.  I welcome all suggestions, ask questions and even grumble to my principal.  “She’s six, we don’t have time to waste.”  In our rural district we don’t have many resources but I will push to see that she gets all I can muster. 

As we made our Cat in the Hat projects earlier this week I struggled.  I’m alone in a room with 17 other 5 year olds.  She uses a special pair of scissors, I pretend to be an alligator, “chomp, chomp chomp, make your scissors eat the line”, each hand movement needs an encouragement. Those scissors are perfect for her small hand and weak grip, but gosh they sure take small snips.   When her eyes begin to dart side to side I know she’s had her fill.  I finish the cutting. 

I ask her to touch where the glue will be placed.  Hand over hand we apply the glue stick.  The hat is on.  Then I apply the glue and guide her hand to place the red stripes. “Push them down hard so the glue will stick!”   We add a nose and whiskers.  The glue on her fingers bothers her, but she seems to tolerate it for now.  “Touch where you want your name.” I quickly write her name.  I hold up the completed project.  Her eyes dart to her name, “It says your name,” I acknowledge, noting her eye movement.  “Whiskers” “Eyes” “Nose” “Hat” I touch and name. I try to squeeze language in to every moment.  “Do you like it?”  She nods and smiles.  “Me too,” I smile. 

I want her to have the same fun of making something developmentally appropriate.  I want to increase her skills with scissors.  I want her to have the pride of knowing she’s made something. 

Let’s not even think about what the other 17 kids have been doing during this time!

Steve

Today “Steve” went home ill at noon.  The past 3 weeks have been rough.  He’s had some strange symptoms.  I know he’s been to our local hospital’s ER, to his pediatrician, and to a regional children’s hospital.  No one has found anything.

Usually he’s bright and very busy!  

In recent weeks he’s been so uncomfortable.  He has cries out in pain and his coloring doesn't look right.  The times I've seen his pain he’s gone from engaged in play or work, to sobs.  He’s missed things he really likes, this isn't acting.

Yesterday he spent playtime just sitting, cuddling up to a soft chair.  Today at lunch recess he was curled up on his side in a snowbank complaining about his head. Usually I’m drawn to slice things that make me laugh, but this is making me fearful.