I put DuckyBoy on his bus at 7:10 this morning, got in the car and drove his dad to work, and had exactly enough time to get to his school as his class was walking to the library to do their Scholastic Book Fair shopping.
I fell in line next to him and as he saw me he said, "I knew you'd be here!"
That made the 90 minutes in the car all worth it.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
Another Haiku Friday
I almost missed it!
Haiku Friday a highlight
of a dreary day.
So tired of Queens --
Must everyone be a jerk?
Don't honk at THIS bus!
Started the morning
on a sour note for sure
and then another;
But things did improve
and ended with a movie
and a lion's roar.
* * * * *
I'm counting "lion's" as 2 syllables, anyone have another opinion?
These Friday haiku are inspired by blogger Christina at A Mommy Story.
Haiku Friday a highlight
of a dreary day.
So tired of Queens --
Must everyone be a jerk?
Don't honk at THIS bus!
Started the morning
on a sour note for sure
and then another;
But things did improve
and ended with a movie
and a lion's roar.
* * * * *
I'm counting "lion's" as 2 syllables, anyone have another opinion?
These Friday haiku are inspired by blogger Christina at A Mommy Story.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Saving Every Little Thing
This post was inspired by a post I came across earlier today, from a mum, er, mom in Australia. I love how the Internet has enabled those of us with hit-or-miss chunks of time to share common experiences at the times we have available, yet it’s still able to be interactive and timely. Anyway this started out as a comment on her blog post and I ended up saying so much that I cut it short and thought I’d muse longer in my own space.
I save most of DuckyBoy’s artwork and his school papers. I even try to keep the homework in order, though it does pile up haphazardly.
Most schoolwork I keep in a drawer. Last year for the preschool stuff and so far this year, I've managed to fit everything in one dedicated drawer. At the end of the school year last year I went through and got rid of a few duplicates, transferred the rest to a box and put it who-knows-where.
I want to keep almost everything, even the handwriting exercises from school, so I have a record of where he was at this point. Those of us with a child on the autism spectrum get a little freakish about tracking progress (one mom I know even puts everything in a 3-ring binder; I only wish I were THAT dedicated).
Once DB can really write all his letters, I won't be so in love with the preliminaries anymore and can toss them then... maybe. Or maybe I’ll let him decide once he’s old enough that I can keep all the boxes in HIS closet. Meanwhile, he seems to enjoy looking back through the homework to see what he’s learned.
I've dedicated a whole wall to artwork I can tell he's proud of. Occasionally I take something down to make room for a new favorite; by then there's usually something old enough that I can stand to say goodbye (only as it goes into the drawer, not discarded, mind you).
And I've got a couple of favorites I want to frame, like the homage to Joan Miro they did in art class. In kindergarten! Wild. And the one I scanned and put on DuckyBoy’s blog. I wish I had the technical enthusiasm to do more of that. But even if I scanned everything, as someone suggested to the Aussie mum, I’d still never throw out the original! Especially after I deemed it scan-worthy, it must be archived properly!
I do sneak the lesser-loved pieces into the recycling bin by folding and burying them ... things like drawings on the back of a diner placemat, and other things he scribbles while trying to occupy himself somewhere. Generally I let them lay around for a week or so first until we're all tired of the pile.
We have issues with saving things larger than paper, too. It pained me to get rid of "the clubhouse," which started life as the gigantic box that our 65-inch flatscreen TV came in. We had a blast with that for a long time, even moving it from one room to another when it got in the way. It lasted through multiple playdates, even a party. We turned it on its side for awhile and it became an indoor lemonade stand.
But, after a couple of months, it was just … in the way. I got tired of the compromises I had to make to keep it – like not being able to get at DuckyBoy’s bookshelves. Not only were we limited in which books we could reach, uh read, but also I couldn’t put any away of the ones we did finagle out.
And as for the craft projects—well, let’s just say I have 2 Mars rovers and one moon rover I don’t dare get rid of. Because, God forbid we read or see something about a moon rover and our model made from a broken plastic car, tin foil, a straw, and a cupcake liner is no longer accessible! It would be a disaster of Biblical proportions! At least, I think so. The best-case scenario would be that we’d have to immediately make another one. So I might as well keep this one.
We also have a felt octopus and a toothpick-prickly sea urchin. The octopus is from a Cheerios recipe book, but thankfully we never got around to putting the O’s in place, so I don’t mind it sitting around.
DuckyBoy was on a kick for, like, 6 weeks, where he was bringing home a craft book every week from school. I thought we were gonna have to move to a bigger place!! Fortunately he didn’t insist on making every project, and we didn’t even have to do one from each book after a couple of weeks, but it was still a sweat for me. Which I really, really didn’t want to let show, because I love that he likes to make things from found objects, and I’d bet he picked up on my enthusiasm for the first craft book and wanted that to continue.
He especially loves the Crafts for Kids Who Are Wild About... series, which I see on Amazon is about 10 years old and also, I might add, aimed at grades 2-5. I’m sure he also enjoyed that Mommy had to read it to him!
He also loves to make things from the 2 bins of materials—from foam trays to coffee tins to cardboard tubes—that I keep “just in case.” In fact, the other day he wanted to make a marble run, so I went to get the (expensive, I might add) heirloom-quality wooden marble run set from the closet. But no, he said, he really wanted to make one from “the stuff,” which means I have to fashion a Rube-Goldberg creation that never really gives us much marble action (a fact which is lost on him).
*Sigh.* Can I love this in him and grow weary of it at the same time?
I save most of DuckyBoy’s artwork and his school papers. I even try to keep the homework in order, though it does pile up haphazardly.
Most schoolwork I keep in a drawer. Last year for the preschool stuff and so far this year, I've managed to fit everything in one dedicated drawer. At the end of the school year last year I went through and got rid of a few duplicates, transferred the rest to a box and put it who-knows-where.
I want to keep almost everything, even the handwriting exercises from school, so I have a record of where he was at this point. Those of us with a child on the autism spectrum get a little freakish about tracking progress (one mom I know even puts everything in a 3-ring binder; I only wish I were THAT dedicated).
Once DB can really write all his letters, I won't be so in love with the preliminaries anymore and can toss them then... maybe. Or maybe I’ll let him decide once he’s old enough that I can keep all the boxes in HIS closet. Meanwhile, he seems to enjoy looking back through the homework to see what he’s learned.
I've dedicated a whole wall to artwork I can tell he's proud of. Occasionally I take something down to make room for a new favorite; by then there's usually something old enough that I can stand to say goodbye (only as it goes into the drawer, not discarded, mind you).
And I've got a couple of favorites I want to frame, like the homage to Joan Miro they did in art class. In kindergarten! Wild. And the one I scanned and put on DuckyBoy’s blog. I wish I had the technical enthusiasm to do more of that. But even if I scanned everything, as someone suggested to the Aussie mum, I’d still never throw out the original! Especially after I deemed it scan-worthy, it must be archived properly!
I do sneak the lesser-loved pieces into the recycling bin by folding and burying them ... things like drawings on the back of a diner placemat, and other things he scribbles while trying to occupy himself somewhere. Generally I let them lay around for a week or so first until we're all tired of the pile.
We have issues with saving things larger than paper, too. It pained me to get rid of "the clubhouse," which started life as the gigantic box that our 65-inch flatscreen TV came in. We had a blast with that for a long time, even moving it from one room to another when it got in the way. It lasted through multiple playdates, even a party. We turned it on its side for awhile and it became an indoor lemonade stand.
But, after a couple of months, it was just … in the way. I got tired of the compromises I had to make to keep it – like not being able to get at DuckyBoy’s bookshelves. Not only were we limited in which books we could reach, uh read, but also I couldn’t put any away of the ones we did finagle out.
And as for the craft projects—well, let’s just say I have 2 Mars rovers and one moon rover I don’t dare get rid of. Because, God forbid we read or see something about a moon rover and our model made from a broken plastic car, tin foil, a straw, and a cupcake liner is no longer accessible! It would be a disaster of Biblical proportions! At least, I think so. The best-case scenario would be that we’d have to immediately make another one. So I might as well keep this one.
We also have a felt octopus and a toothpick-prickly sea urchin. The octopus is from a Cheerios recipe book, but thankfully we never got around to putting the O’s in place, so I don’t mind it sitting around.
DuckyBoy was on a kick for, like, 6 weeks, where he was bringing home a craft book every week from school. I thought we were gonna have to move to a bigger place!! Fortunately he didn’t insist on making every project, and we didn’t even have to do one from each book after a couple of weeks, but it was still a sweat for me. Which I really, really didn’t want to let show, because I love that he likes to make things from found objects, and I’d bet he picked up on my enthusiasm for the first craft book and wanted that to continue.
He especially loves the Crafts for Kids Who Are Wild About... series, which I see on Amazon is about 10 years old and also, I might add, aimed at grades 2-5. I’m sure he also enjoyed that Mommy had to read it to him!
He also loves to make things from the 2 bins of materials—from foam trays to coffee tins to cardboard tubes—that I keep “just in case.” In fact, the other day he wanted to make a marble run, so I went to get the (expensive, I might add) heirloom-quality wooden marble run set from the closet. But no, he said, he really wanted to make one from “the stuff,” which means I have to fashion a Rube-Goldberg creation that never really gives us much marble action (a fact which is lost on him).
*Sigh.* Can I love this in him and grow weary of it at the same time?
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Ready to Be Six
DuckyBoy told me tonight he's tired of being five. He wants to be six.
You're five and three-quarters, I told him after doing the mental math.
But that wasn't good enough. Wonder what's up.
He had a great day today, went to Build a Bear to make what he calls his "Citizen Bear"-- reward for being Citizen of the Month last month. We meant to do it right after he got the award, but life happens. In-laws need to be visited before the jet off to Italy for a month. Boot camps start and finish.
Anyway, once it was belated, we decided to time it to coincide with the next citizen award ceremony (which was yesterday), to remind him that he hasn't lost anything by it being someone else's turn, that "Once a Citizen, Always a Citizen."
He wasn't upset by the selection of a new citizen... just uninterested in sitting through the assembly AT ALL. When I arrived to help with the end of the school plant sale, he was sitting in the lobby with the librarian reading a book. One kid out of a couple hundred, mine, is sitting in the hallway being babysat. Happy As A Lark. Later he told me he said the Pledge of Allegiance and then [insert a lack of detail as big as a black hole] sat in the hall with Mrs. L. I heard through the grapevine there was minor commotion involved, as in noise being made. Otherwise I got no details from anyone -- yet.
How is he going to survive the next 11 years of school when he cannot tolerate what does not interest him? (Or, should I instead be asking, Why do we all tolerate so much when it's possible to behave like him and not have to do it?!?)
Oh wait, I get it. He wants to be six so he can be Citizen of the Month again next year in first grade. Here's a hint, lovey: Try sitting through an assembly!!
You're five and three-quarters, I told him after doing the mental math.
But that wasn't good enough. Wonder what's up.
He had a great day today, went to Build a Bear to make what he calls his "Citizen Bear"-- reward for being Citizen of the Month last month. We meant to do it right after he got the award, but life happens. In-laws need to be visited before the jet off to Italy for a month. Boot camps start and finish.
Anyway, once it was belated, we decided to time it to coincide with the next citizen award ceremony (which was yesterday), to remind him that he hasn't lost anything by it being someone else's turn, that "Once a Citizen, Always a Citizen."
He wasn't upset by the selection of a new citizen... just uninterested in sitting through the assembly AT ALL. When I arrived to help with the end of the school plant sale, he was sitting in the lobby with the librarian reading a book. One kid out of a couple hundred, mine, is sitting in the hallway being babysat. Happy As A Lark. Later he told me he said the Pledge of Allegiance and then [insert a lack of detail as big as a black hole] sat in the hall with Mrs. L. I heard through the grapevine there was minor commotion involved, as in noise being made. Otherwise I got no details from anyone -- yet.
How is he going to survive the next 11 years of school when he cannot tolerate what does not interest him? (Or, should I instead be asking, Why do we all tolerate so much when it's possible to behave like him and not have to do it?!?)
Oh wait, I get it. He wants to be six so he can be Citizen of the Month again next year in first grade. Here's a hint, lovey: Try sitting through an assembly!!
Friday, May 9, 2008
Haiku, Do You?
My confidence got a real boost this week.
This was the last week of my Business Plan Boot Camp, wherein I and several others attempted to wrestle vague ideas out of our heads and make them not only sound lucrative but also back that up with hard numbers – in 5 weeks' time. Yesterday we had to present the highlights to the rest of the class. (Which wasn’t too scary since there are only 3 of us who made it all the way through.)
And what was I doing Wednesday night INSTEAD of preparing my PowerPoint slides? Driving to Brooklyn for the chance to meet, or at least, I hoped, see, the writers of two of my favorite blogs, Dooce and finslippy. What a chance! There they would be, so close! I expected the place to be mobbed. And it was, sort of – the 50-person backroom of a bar had about 80 people in it. But where was everyone else? As it turned out, it was such an intimate gathering that I had the chance to speak to both of them.
I also read from my high-school diary, and everyone laughed in the right place and applauded, which was a confidence booster of its own.
But I kept thinking, how is it that I am here and the entire rest of the Western world is not? This is New York, we are supposed to be so cutting edge! And these are 2 of the best bloggers out there!
When I got home my husband looked up Dooce’s blog for the first time and commented, “She’s got a 7 [Google ranking] – six is really hard!” In other words, zillions of people visit her site and link to her.
So it turned out to be the best possible thing to do on the night before my final presentation, because it made me feel like I Am Not Wrong. My ideas can work.
I have an odd mix of failure issues: On the one hand, I am desperately afraid to do anything I might fail at. On the other hand, I tend to think everyone else is more right than me anyway, so why bother.
And this – this made me feel like I get it. For once in my life, I am one of the ones who get it. And that feels good. Really good.
A poem to end the post, in honor of another thoughtful mommyblogger’s Haiku Friday:
Moms connect online.
Today show doesn’t get it;
Can it be, I do?
Hard to imagine --
How can I be cutting edge?
It’s a whole new world.
Maybe, just maybe,
My ideas are not wrong!
What do I do now?
This was the last week of my Business Plan Boot Camp, wherein I and several others attempted to wrestle vague ideas out of our heads and make them not only sound lucrative but also back that up with hard numbers – in 5 weeks' time. Yesterday we had to present the highlights to the rest of the class. (Which wasn’t too scary since there are only 3 of us who made it all the way through.)
And what was I doing Wednesday night INSTEAD of preparing my PowerPoint slides? Driving to Brooklyn for the chance to meet, or at least, I hoped, see, the writers of two of my favorite blogs, Dooce and finslippy. What a chance! There they would be, so close! I expected the place to be mobbed. And it was, sort of – the 50-person backroom of a bar had about 80 people in it. But where was everyone else? As it turned out, it was such an intimate gathering that I had the chance to speak to both of them.
I also read from my high-school diary, and everyone laughed in the right place and applauded, which was a confidence booster of its own.
But I kept thinking, how is it that I am here and the entire rest of the Western world is not? This is New York, we are supposed to be so cutting edge! And these are 2 of the best bloggers out there!
When I got home my husband looked up Dooce’s blog for the first time and commented, “She’s got a 7 [Google ranking] – six is really hard!” In other words, zillions of people visit her site and link to her.
So it turned out to be the best possible thing to do on the night before my final presentation, because it made me feel like I Am Not Wrong. My ideas can work.
I have an odd mix of failure issues: On the one hand, I am desperately afraid to do anything I might fail at. On the other hand, I tend to think everyone else is more right than me anyway, so why bother.
And this – this made me feel like I get it. For once in my life, I am one of the ones who get it. And that feels good. Really good.
A poem to end the post, in honor of another thoughtful mommyblogger’s Haiku Friday:
Moms connect online.
Today show doesn’t get it;
Can it be, I do?
Hard to imagine --
How can I be cutting edge?
It’s a whole new world.
Maybe, just maybe,
My ideas are not wrong!
What do I do now?
Monday, May 5, 2008
Being Part of the Group
This phrase gets used a lot in DuckyBoy's classroom, "being part of the group." It's a difficult concept for him, since he wants everyone else to ...
I had an enlightening experience earlier this week; I rode with my friend to a dance festival Duckyboy’s class participated in, and the other moms wanted to leave right after our class had performed. Although I was looking forward to having lunch with that group of moms (which is why we all left together), I was unhappy because I wanted to see all of the performances.
I seriously considered how else I could get home from there, like, which main street nearby might have a bus line, but since it was a part of Queens I don't really know, I had no idea how to get home from there without riding with my friend.
And so, I had to leave; I had to be part of the group. And I was unhappy about it for longer than just a moment; it took until we got to the diner to snap out of it!
That doesn't happen to me very often. For one thing, I'm pretty easy-going. For another, my social circle's just not that big, and I'm sure I surround myself with people I'm not going to disagree with very much about what we do.
So it was a good reminder that what we're asking DB to do is.not.easy.
You can read what we did this weekend at the blog I started for stuff that he'll want to see. I'm hoping one of these days he'll start to have some ideas of things to post. I'm also hoping they're not as long as the Peeps Adventure; there's a second one I haven't even posted yet.
- do what he wants them to do
- when he wants them to do it,
I had an enlightening experience earlier this week; I rode with my friend to a dance festival Duckyboy’s class participated in, and the other moms wanted to leave right after our class had performed. Although I was looking forward to having lunch with that group of moms (which is why we all left together), I was unhappy because I wanted to see all of the performances.
I seriously considered how else I could get home from there, like, which main street nearby might have a bus line, but since it was a part of Queens I don't really know, I had no idea how to get home from there without riding with my friend.
And so, I had to leave; I had to be part of the group. And I was unhappy about it for longer than just a moment; it took until we got to the diner to snap out of it!
That doesn't happen to me very often. For one thing, I'm pretty easy-going. For another, my social circle's just not that big, and I'm sure I surround myself with people I'm not going to disagree with very much about what we do.
So it was a good reminder that what we're asking DB to do is.not.easy.
You can read what we did this weekend at the blog I started for stuff that he'll want to see. I'm hoping one of these days he'll start to have some ideas of things to post. I'm also hoping they're not as long as the Peeps Adventure; there's a second one I haven't even posted yet.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Morning Rant
I could not meet one of my child’s basic needs – to eat.
I made a mistake (forgetting to bring his breakfast downstairs) that MADE HIM CRY as he got on the bus,
which I couldn’t do anything about.
I hate THAT THAT WHOLE BUS PROCESS IS OUT OF MY CONTROL. I HATE that we are always running late and now the matron has muttered something about the DOE guys or some sort of inspector timing them as they pull up in front of the school building, so we need to try extra hard to help them be on time (and in fact we like her and the driver and wouldn't want them to get in trouble).
I also HATE to make a mistake, it makes me feel ashamed and angry at myself.
I hate that I feel like that. I want to be different.
I want to be able to say, "You have to wait, I have to run upstairs and get his breakfast." I've done that before, but with the whole inspector thing I feel cowed. The idea that a mistake I make can get someone else in trouble freezes me.
All this over a flippin’ Pop-Tart, which is close to the world’s worst breakfast in the first place. Geez!
I made a mistake (forgetting to bring his breakfast downstairs) that MADE HIM CRY as he got on the bus,
which I couldn’t do anything about.
I hate THAT THAT WHOLE BUS PROCESS IS OUT OF MY CONTROL. I HATE that we are always running late and now the matron has muttered something about the DOE guys or some sort of inspector timing them as they pull up in front of the school building, so we need to try extra hard to help them be on time (and in fact we like her and the driver and wouldn't want them to get in trouble).
I also HATE to make a mistake, it makes me feel ashamed and angry at myself.
I hate that I feel like that. I want to be different.
I want to be able to say, "You have to wait, I have to run upstairs and get his breakfast." I've done that before, but with the whole inspector thing I feel cowed. The idea that a mistake I make can get someone else in trouble freezes me.
All this over a flippin’ Pop-Tart, which is close to the world’s worst breakfast in the first place. Geez!
