I've been feeling pretty crazy lately. Yes, more than ever. Be afraid. Be very afraid! ;)
In this case, I think I've earned the right to feel crazy. Four human funerals between friends and family within a 12 month period justifies that, I think. [There have been animal funerals, as well.] I am not yet ready to talk about the big one, but here is the most positive one, if a death experience can be a positive experience. I think it can. A memorial is supposed to be a celebration of life. I think I witnessed that.
The passing of Maya Angelou reminded me of a more sane value structure based on people, and we have been blessed to have one of those in our own lives. I need to back up, though.
When family life got complicated, some new people stepped in to be admin in our main homeschool coop, so I could step down, and they even offered me an early leave with no guilt over the mess of paperwork I handed over. I received thanks for what I had done, even as I felt I was backing out prematurely. A few days later, a beloved aunt died. I had the freedom to fully enter into celebrating her life and mourning her loss without the guilt of admin responsibilities. It was such a gift, from both those that I had known a while, and some who I had just gotten to know. I was so touched!
I cried about our situation in coop. Yes, I am that scary open person. I received countless hugs and support and prayers and thoughts and juju - I'll take it all, so long as it's positive. I shared some of the yarn stash that Aunt Mary had left & was genuinely happy as people came by & thanked me & told me they were thinking of her in her final days. I smiled watching people select what they would use and knowing that it all would be used, and that more people would think of her in her final days and send positivity her way. Some stopped and offered words or a hug, and others did not. I appreciated all of it.
It didn't really feel like Aunt was gone as the family gathered in her home following the funeral. There were only a couple of the grandkids that are not already adults, but all the grandkids drifted to one room, and my young daughter was so kindly included and humored and enjoyed. . . I don't know the names of all the people in that generation, as some are so distantly related, but it was a gift to watch M drift in with them & try to fit in and be comfortable. It was a room full of iPhones, so she grabbed our iPad and joined the fun in her own fashion.
Being and introvert, and the newest family member of my generation (having known the deceased for only 15 years), I sat in a living room next to the grandkids' chosen hangout. In the room opposite the grandkids sat a very different group, including mostly people of the older generation and my own generation. It was calming and comforting to listen to them. There was laughter and sincere interchange. It was a somber occasion, but there was still significant laughter. Aunt would have liked that.
In the middle of that, her voice and smile were absent, but *she* didn't feel absent. Thinking about that, I realized that I sensed her spirit in the hearts and heads of so many in that house. She was still there. She will remain for a very long time in a very positive way. She invested herself in other people. I hope to be so lucky when I depart. Even at her funeral, she was inspiring and teaching. What an example!
A man of our generation who I know little, yet admire from every encounter, had been talking with M when I wasn't in earshot. He told me his impressions and gently probed for some information. This is something I am used to, and I was tired, so I did not react ideally at first. He looked surprised, and we both apologized, but were able to turn the mood of the talk. His parents were listening and not talking, which made me more self-conscious; I had not met them before. I ended up telling them a little bit, and he impressed me yet again. His reaction was to say "That must make you feel_____" and pinpoint where I live.
I don't remember that perfect word, of course, but he nailed it. He did so kindly. He really paid attention, and he really saw my daughter in his brief interchange with her. The more I thought about it, the more he impressed me. M will shut down when someone notices her differences and reacts even in subtle ways. She does not want to stick out. Not only did this man accept her for who she was, but he reacted with acceptance. She did not feel the need to hide her sparkle. I can understand why he was chosen by his equally amazing wife.
As we got ready to leave for our long drive home, our aunt's daughters escorted us into her bedroom, where they pulled out a quilt from a stack. My husband teared up at her handwriting on a note pinned to a quilt with our names on it. I cried, and could only say, "wow." M jumped and ran around the house with excitement. She had left her own memorial for many individuals and chosen which of her brand new quilts she wanted to leave to different people. It was so touching and perfect. I cannot imagine where she ever found the time to make so many. Ours is now on our queen size bed. Wow.
Since then, I think about her often. I have chosen to do and say some thing intentionally that I think she would have chosen and said herself. She remains a good example of how to live life well. She continues to improve my life and my daughter's, and we were the latest of each respective generation to the party that was her life. Such quiet power. Love.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Just a normal summer afternoon musing?
Last weekend, being a long weekend, we were at a slower pace than usual. A friend was over as we were going about our everyday things. It gave me a new view of what our "normal" looks like to an outsider who knows us as well as anyone does.
We were discussing wood and bark, and it started because M used one word when she should have used the other one, in my opinion. Four of us were in the room. Here's what followed:
M: Aren't wood and bark the same thing?
me: Well, bark is usually the outer layer and the wood comes from the interior layers.
M: Yeah, but they are part of the same tree, and essentially the same.
me: Maybe at the atomic level. I'm not sure. However, they are different. Bark is rougher, for instance.
our visitor: crooked smile starts getting bigger as she appears to be watching a ridiculous scene on TV.
M: Doesn't the atomic level determine things like roughness?
me: the DNA of a butterfly and caterpillar are the same, even though they are different. Maybe it's how they are arranged, I'm not sure.
M: I think they are the same.
me: Most people refer to bark and wood differently, whether or not it's technically accurate. Besides, I think bark might float more easily than wood.
the dad: rolls his eyes and gets up, telling the visitor "welcome to my world."
visitor: "Mmmm hmmmm" in her very attitude-filled tone.
M: Don't the atoms make it float more or less?
me: I'm not sure. It's about density.
the dad: Yup, mass and density.
me: We're on summer schedule. It's something you can look up.
Just an average afternoon of sitting around with no plans in particular. I'm not sure it would have occurred to me as atypical. That fact alone makes me laugh, actually. Hope you had a great holiday weekend and are entering the short week in good spirits.
We were discussing wood and bark, and it started because M used one word when she should have used the other one, in my opinion. Four of us were in the room. Here's what followed:
M: Aren't wood and bark the same thing?
me: Well, bark is usually the outer layer and the wood comes from the interior layers.
M: Yeah, but they are part of the same tree, and essentially the same.
me: Maybe at the atomic level. I'm not sure. However, they are different. Bark is rougher, for instance.
our visitor: crooked smile starts getting bigger as she appears to be watching a ridiculous scene on TV.
M: Doesn't the atomic level determine things like roughness?
me: the DNA of a butterfly and caterpillar are the same, even though they are different. Maybe it's how they are arranged, I'm not sure.
M: I think they are the same.
me: Most people refer to bark and wood differently, whether or not it's technically accurate. Besides, I think bark might float more easily than wood.
the dad: rolls his eyes and gets up, telling the visitor "welcome to my world."
visitor: "Mmmm hmmmm" in her very attitude-filled tone.
M: Don't the atoms make it float more or less?
me: I'm not sure. It's about density.
the dad: Yup, mass and density.
me: We're on summer schedule. It's something you can look up.
Just an average afternoon of sitting around with no plans in particular. I'm not sure it would have occurred to me as atypical. That fact alone makes me laugh, actually. Hope you had a great holiday weekend and are entering the short week in good spirits.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Yes, we're still alive! Well, most of us. . .
It's been rough for quite a while around here, and I am proud of us for doing as well as we have through an awful number of difficulties. We have an amazing network of caring friends who are the reason I am not in an institution. I feel like I'm finally coming out of a fog.
I have intentionally kept this blog vague, and avoided being obviously linked to it. I think it's time I forget about that. One of the lessons for me in the last few months is that being myself actually is OK. No, it's much better than that. It's invigorating, liberating, courageous, refreshing, frightening, vulnerable, and much more. My biggest lesson learned over the last few months is that people are more loving than I assume, more supportive than I expect, and being vulnerable with some people can be safe.
Pretty intense for the first post since January, I realize. Sorry. Kinda. No, not really. I am a scarily intense person. If you don't like it, you won't like me, and that's OK. For the first time in my life I am feeling secure in my own skin. For today. It will likely change soon, so don't hold me to it!
Morgan is actually awaiting me in heaven. I used her name instead of my living daughter's, after being hurt deeply by a family we had trusted completely and been wounded by. My daughter & husband were as hurt as I was. I was afraid others would do the same, so I used Morgan's name. The internet is not secure enough that I want to reveal my living daughter's name outright, but I will be honest here and today.
Recently, we did our annual testing, which is a homsechooling requirement in Minnesota. I finally switched to the Peabody test, which tells me the average grade level M is performing in each subject. We are almost done with vision therapy, and after two and a half years of homeschooling, I was really looking forward to some guidance about how to plan for our upcoming year, as well as honest insight into how she is progressing.
M has some test anxiety, so she was asking lots of questions. We tried to explain, but probably didn't do a great job, since it was also our first time using this particular test. She was scared of failing, which is something that we have never been concerned about, so we're not sure where it originates. I said, "PLEASE don't get the top score in any are of the test. I can't handle that yet! Seriously, you have a lot of time to get through high school!" We all laughed and slept peacefully the night before the test.
I texted the results to my husband (who was anxious, as well). "Congratulations! You have a seventh grader." She is 9. We are so proud of her, and yet it's pretty terrifying. My husband told her he was proud and told her to pick dinner - in or out, and anywhere or anything she wanted. Perkins, of course!
I listened to most of the testing from the adjoining room. This sums up my experience:
Tester: Next we're going to do some spelling.
M: What's Spelling?
me: Palm- forehead, followed by an apparent blackout, because I am certain the tester responded, but I cannot recall anything that was said for a while . . .
Test results: M maxed out the Peabody in spelling. This means she spells as well as the average high school grad. Without knowing what spelling is.
Overall, she did not graduate yet, LOL! And thank God for that! However, we all laughed heartily about spelling. I guess I should let go of the guilt I had been carrying for ignoring spelling (and some other things) while we tackled vision therapy this year. It has been a family effort, involving almost daily practice with at home, as well as weekly appointments for a year. Let's face it, she's ahead of grade level in everything. Why should anyone care that we haven't actively worked on every subject? Does it matter that she knew what spelling was if she could spell at an adult level? I think not.
There have been a lot of family changes in the last year or so. In early March, a new niece was born. About 24 hours ago, I found out what her name is.
When I told M she had a new cousin, she did not ask when we would see her. She knew we would not. At least not now. She asked what her name was, and I had to tell her that I didn't know. She asked if we would send a gift, and I told her "of course." She picked a gift. We mailed it addressed to the family. We received a thank you note. We still were not told her name in that note, nor did we receive a birth announcement from family that lives about 15 minutes away.
Yes, this is sad, but knowing her name brings me some peace. That gives you enough of an idea about how our life has been challenging, I think.
I felt like a bum mother. I apologized to M again, telling her that I wish I had a more loving, healthy, supportive extended family to give to her. I simply don't have it. She said, "Mom! Family is just a group of people that care about each other and take care of each other. We have that!"
Yes. She's right, of course. And I have been experiencing that over and over in a variety of ways, including a couple of homeschool coops. Today, I watched a newer homeschooler talk about how cool and different it was in our coop than in the "real world" and realized how right she was.
Backing out of an evening of childcare was part of my day, and I felt bad about it, even though there was some notice and it was the right decision. I expected disappointment from the mother accompanied by averted eyes & attention from her lunchtime playground companions.
I got none of that.
The mother told me that she had expected it, and that it was fine. She knows I am very introverted, and she offered to give me some solitude during a time when my husband will be out of town. All this in one breath. What a loving and unexpected (by me) response! Her companions affirmed my self-awareness, as they are also both quite introverted, and talked about how important it is that M is learning about those boundaries at an early age. It was so . . . peaceful. Encouraging. Loving. Accepting.
I was blown away by the peacefulness and support of the encounter.
As I told my husband about it, I said, "Who does that? What is that? It's so cool!" He smiled sadly at me in a not-at-all-funny way and said without a pause, "that's family."
Yes! Ouch! Wow. I really don't get that. I'm so glad to have it. I have a lot to learn!
M is SOOOOOOO right. Family is a group of people working together to improve the lives and experiences of all. We have that. Thank you, Lord!
I have intentionally kept this blog vague, and avoided being obviously linked to it. I think it's time I forget about that. One of the lessons for me in the last few months is that being myself actually is OK. No, it's much better than that. It's invigorating, liberating, courageous, refreshing, frightening, vulnerable, and much more. My biggest lesson learned over the last few months is that people are more loving than I assume, more supportive than I expect, and being vulnerable with some people can be safe.
Pretty intense for the first post since January, I realize. Sorry. Kinda. No, not really. I am a scarily intense person. If you don't like it, you won't like me, and that's OK. For the first time in my life I am feeling secure in my own skin. For today. It will likely change soon, so don't hold me to it!
Morgan is actually awaiting me in heaven. I used her name instead of my living daughter's, after being hurt deeply by a family we had trusted completely and been wounded by. My daughter & husband were as hurt as I was. I was afraid others would do the same, so I used Morgan's name. The internet is not secure enough that I want to reveal my living daughter's name outright, but I will be honest here and today.
Recently, we did our annual testing, which is a homsechooling requirement in Minnesota. I finally switched to the Peabody test, which tells me the average grade level M is performing in each subject. We are almost done with vision therapy, and after two and a half years of homeschooling, I was really looking forward to some guidance about how to plan for our upcoming year, as well as honest insight into how she is progressing.
M has some test anxiety, so she was asking lots of questions. We tried to explain, but probably didn't do a great job, since it was also our first time using this particular test. She was scared of failing, which is something that we have never been concerned about, so we're not sure where it originates. I said, "PLEASE don't get the top score in any are of the test. I can't handle that yet! Seriously, you have a lot of time to get through high school!" We all laughed and slept peacefully the night before the test.
I texted the results to my husband (who was anxious, as well). "Congratulations! You have a seventh grader." She is 9. We are so proud of her, and yet it's pretty terrifying. My husband told her he was proud and told her to pick dinner - in or out, and anywhere or anything she wanted. Perkins, of course!
I listened to most of the testing from the adjoining room. This sums up my experience:
Tester: Next we're going to do some spelling.
M: What's Spelling?
me: Palm- forehead, followed by an apparent blackout, because I am certain the tester responded, but I cannot recall anything that was said for a while . . .
Test results: M maxed out the Peabody in spelling. This means she spells as well as the average high school grad. Without knowing what spelling is.
Overall, she did not graduate yet, LOL! And thank God for that! However, we all laughed heartily about spelling. I guess I should let go of the guilt I had been carrying for ignoring spelling (and some other things) while we tackled vision therapy this year. It has been a family effort, involving almost daily practice with at home, as well as weekly appointments for a year. Let's face it, she's ahead of grade level in everything. Why should anyone care that we haven't actively worked on every subject? Does it matter that she knew what spelling was if she could spell at an adult level? I think not.
There have been a lot of family changes in the last year or so. In early March, a new niece was born. About 24 hours ago, I found out what her name is.
When I told M she had a new cousin, she did not ask when we would see her. She knew we would not. At least not now. She asked what her name was, and I had to tell her that I didn't know. She asked if we would send a gift, and I told her "of course." She picked a gift. We mailed it addressed to the family. We received a thank you note. We still were not told her name in that note, nor did we receive a birth announcement from family that lives about 15 minutes away.
Yes, this is sad, but knowing her name brings me some peace. That gives you enough of an idea about how our life has been challenging, I think.
I felt like a bum mother. I apologized to M again, telling her that I wish I had a more loving, healthy, supportive extended family to give to her. I simply don't have it. She said, "Mom! Family is just a group of people that care about each other and take care of each other. We have that!"
Yes. She's right, of course. And I have been experiencing that over and over in a variety of ways, including a couple of homeschool coops. Today, I watched a newer homeschooler talk about how cool and different it was in our coop than in the "real world" and realized how right she was.
Backing out of an evening of childcare was part of my day, and I felt bad about it, even though there was some notice and it was the right decision. I expected disappointment from the mother accompanied by averted eyes & attention from her lunchtime playground companions.
I got none of that.
The mother told me that she had expected it, and that it was fine. She knows I am very introverted, and she offered to give me some solitude during a time when my husband will be out of town. All this in one breath. What a loving and unexpected (by me) response! Her companions affirmed my self-awareness, as they are also both quite introverted, and talked about how important it is that M is learning about those boundaries at an early age. It was so . . . peaceful. Encouraging. Loving. Accepting.
I was blown away by the peacefulness and support of the encounter.
As I told my husband about it, I said, "Who does that? What is that? It's so cool!" He smiled sadly at me in a not-at-all-funny way and said without a pause, "that's family."
Yes! Ouch! Wow. I really don't get that. I'm so glad to have it. I have a lot to learn!
M is SOOOOOOO right. Family is a group of people working together to improve the lives and experiences of all. We have that. Thank you, Lord!
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Giftedness is scary
"Dan. I'm worried about him. It's not right that a 13 year old knows as much as he does." ~ Amy Cahill . . . . "I hear you. Atticus already knows more than I will in my entire life. It's scary. On the one hand, he's a little kid [11 years old]. On the other hand, he's a supercomputer with two legs." ~ Jake Rosenbloom
~ Shatterproof by Roland Smith - Cahills Vs Vespers Book 4
Giftedness is scary. I have yet to meet a parent going through this adventure who is surprised to hear me say this. Enthusiastic agreement is the usual response, actually. I think the above exchange captures it, even though parents are not involved and it is fiction.
The truth it, I wish M did not know so much. Some of the amazing volume of information is simply fascinating. However, some of it requires her to wonder about information that she would not otherwise encounter at her age. Unfortunately, this has not changed, and I don't anticipate it ending until her adulthood, if then.
Not only does she have a lot of information, she has an amazing imagination. This sounds like a wonderful thing. However, it's a mixed bag. Yes, she imagines wonderful, entertaining, fascinating and valuable things. She also worries about things that her same-age peers would not be contemplating for lack of awareness. She experiences the scary side of giftedness. She has the intellectual capacity to understand information far beyond her emotional ability to process information.
Just last week, M told me, "I used to have nightmares every night. It's been a while since I've had one." While I was relieved to hear that she is sleeping soundly, as she emotionally matures, I was also sad for my baby girl. She went through YEARS of nightmares every night.
She's always been fascinated with biology. Because of that, she has had intimations of diseases and dysfunctions that are often unimportant but can be quite serious. She had the intellect to extrapolate and understand the potential dangers. However, she did not have the emotional maturity or the life experience to temper her fears. She still will not look at the anti-piracy warnings at the beginning of DVDs. This began years ago, and she was worried that she might accidentally get into big trouble, since she was not sure how piracy might happen. For months, she left the room whenever a movie was started. That is the effect of some of the asynchronous development of these children.
Like Jake Rosenbloom. I am intimidated at having responsibility for a child with so much information. I have been accused by many, including a children's pastor, of pushing her too hard. I regret to admit that I was guilty of the same kind of impressions of others before learning how much I still had to learn. The truth is, I am being dragged behind this speeding supercomputer on two legs, trying to keep it together. Stopping is not a healthy option. All I can do is my best to facilitate her journey.
Most parents are concerned with the emotional development of their children. With the asynchronous child, it is more complicated. There are countless books of advice and research on raising children, considering their emotional needs. A very small percentage of these address the asynchronous child. Many parents joke that they need an owner's manual for their child, but the grain of truth is there, since the books sell so well. There is less support and information available for these atypical children.
I often say that I am the dumb one in our family. It's mostly a joke. However, there is evidence that intelligence range is largely hereditary. As a woman who believes in Scripture, I believe that God gave us the perfect child for us, and gave M the perfect parents for her. I often think He overestimates me. It's scary.
A psychiatrist told me a story from his recent vacation. They were in a cutesy souvenir shop and saw a decorative sign that said, "It's all about family." His companion was also a psychiatrist, and they shared a joke about how they interpreted that statement, but they believe it.
It's a serious responsibility. I do not take it lightly, and that makes it scary, whether or not I feel like my daughter is smarter than I'll ever be. That impression changes hour by hour, in case you were curious. . .
My daughter will have scars from her parents. Her parents have scars from their parents. The pattern continues indefinitely. We admit to her that we make mistakes, and we hope that we will do our best and always work with her. Our constant effort is to gather the best information available, use the resources we can find, and make the best choices we can. When something doesn't work, we adjust. When something works, we exhale, and hope it keeps working for a while.
Giftedness is stereotypically associated pride and arrogance. I would argue that terror is as common. Wishing you many nights of deep, calm sleep - free of nightmares.
~ Shatterproof by Roland Smith - Cahills Vs Vespers Book 4
Giftedness is scary. I have yet to meet a parent going through this adventure who is surprised to hear me say this. Enthusiastic agreement is the usual response, actually. I think the above exchange captures it, even though parents are not involved and it is fiction.
The truth it, I wish M did not know so much. Some of the amazing volume of information is simply fascinating. However, some of it requires her to wonder about information that she would not otherwise encounter at her age. Unfortunately, this has not changed, and I don't anticipate it ending until her adulthood, if then.
Not only does she have a lot of information, she has an amazing imagination. This sounds like a wonderful thing. However, it's a mixed bag. Yes, she imagines wonderful, entertaining, fascinating and valuable things. She also worries about things that her same-age peers would not be contemplating for lack of awareness. She experiences the scary side of giftedness. She has the intellectual capacity to understand information far beyond her emotional ability to process information.
Just last week, M told me, "I used to have nightmares every night. It's been a while since I've had one." While I was relieved to hear that she is sleeping soundly, as she emotionally matures, I was also sad for my baby girl. She went through YEARS of nightmares every night.
She's always been fascinated with biology. Because of that, she has had intimations of diseases and dysfunctions that are often unimportant but can be quite serious. She had the intellect to extrapolate and understand the potential dangers. However, she did not have the emotional maturity or the life experience to temper her fears. She still will not look at the anti-piracy warnings at the beginning of DVDs. This began years ago, and she was worried that she might accidentally get into big trouble, since she was not sure how piracy might happen. For months, she left the room whenever a movie was started. That is the effect of some of the asynchronous development of these children.
Like Jake Rosenbloom. I am intimidated at having responsibility for a child with so much information. I have been accused by many, including a children's pastor, of pushing her too hard. I regret to admit that I was guilty of the same kind of impressions of others before learning how much I still had to learn. The truth is, I am being dragged behind this speeding supercomputer on two legs, trying to keep it together. Stopping is not a healthy option. All I can do is my best to facilitate her journey.
Most parents are concerned with the emotional development of their children. With the asynchronous child, it is more complicated. There are countless books of advice and research on raising children, considering their emotional needs. A very small percentage of these address the asynchronous child. Many parents joke that they need an owner's manual for their child, but the grain of truth is there, since the books sell so well. There is less support and information available for these atypical children.
I often say that I am the dumb one in our family. It's mostly a joke. However, there is evidence that intelligence range is largely hereditary. As a woman who believes in Scripture, I believe that God gave us the perfect child for us, and gave M the perfect parents for her. I often think He overestimates me. It's scary.
A psychiatrist told me a story from his recent vacation. They were in a cutesy souvenir shop and saw a decorative sign that said, "It's all about family." His companion was also a psychiatrist, and they shared a joke about how they interpreted that statement, but they believe it.
It's a serious responsibility. I do not take it lightly, and that makes it scary, whether or not I feel like my daughter is smarter than I'll ever be. That impression changes hour by hour, in case you were curious. . .
My daughter will have scars from her parents. Her parents have scars from their parents. The pattern continues indefinitely. We admit to her that we make mistakes, and we hope that we will do our best and always work with her. Our constant effort is to gather the best information available, use the resources we can find, and make the best choices we can. When something doesn't work, we adjust. When something works, we exhale, and hope it keeps working for a while.
Giftedness is stereotypically associated pride and arrogance. I would argue that terror is as common. Wishing you many nights of deep, calm sleep - free of nightmares.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Night at the Museum - we are not mainstream, but we have lots of fun!!!!
Over the holiday break, I was watching Night at the Museum, and M walked by it. She is getting old enough to watch those, but still prefers animated movies, in general. She asked if it was an adult movie, and I said she could watch it, but watching from the beginning would be better.
She had a hard time tearing herself away, but we agree to watch it from the beginning later, after some father-daughter wrestling time, which is extremely silly & completely cherished.
We made the movie a family affair, and she had a lot of fun watching the animals, which I could have predicted. However, there were reactions that I did not anticipate from her.
Theodore Roosevelt explains who he was as president, and she seemed impassive. Sacajawea, I thought would get her attention. She was completely unaware of Lewis & Clark as well as Sacajawea. I paused the movie and explained briefly.
This made me realize that while our sequential approach to history will help her have a better grasp of the overall timeline & progressions, it leads to her being unaware of the United States quite a bit longer. After all, in the scheme of human history, it is quite a young nation.
The miniatures scene got M very excited. "Octavius?! As in, Emperor Octavius? I'm so excited to see real Romans fighting!" This caught me a bit off guard. Yes, I knew she loved the Roman history, but I was still surprised at her reaction to the laughable and entertaining character in the movie.
As I was processing that, she burst out with, "Attila the Hun?! YES!!!!!!!!!" jumping up and down. Her father & I were shooting private looks at each other, realizing just how confusing it was to learn history jumping around, and marveling at how different her experience is from the typical school child's.
We are continuing the sequential history approach of Biblioplan curriculum, and still believe in its efficacy for M, at least. I wish I had learned that way. She is learning about so many facets of life in the different times, as well as how the changes affected various groups. We are using novels set in those times, as well, so she really immerses herself in that time, and she is writing essays and letters as if she were living through the experiences. She likes it, and so she soaks it up. Fun makes effective learning, after all.
In the meantime, the standardized tests will continue to indicate that she has very little political science understanding for her age. I laugh and disagree. She may be unaware of the parts they are teaching her same-aged counterparts in the schools, but I maintain that her understanding is stronger, and that she knows a great deal about political science. In fact, she can carry on an intelligent conversation with a teacher who specializes Medieval and Middle Ages history and point out facts that I was not aware of until those conversations occurs. To further stretch my abilities to parent, her observation in that particular conversation has political, military & theological significance. Yikes! I am not pushing her. I am getting dragged along behind her, while trying to maintain my footing!
What is my point? Well, we were reminded that we are not mainstream. I am okay with that.
No. I am more than okay with that. I am excited that M is learning deeply and having fun simultaneously. I am glad she is learning history sequentially and knows that the US is a very small part of the timeline. I am glad that she doesn't learn history from a self-importance slant, as I believe most countries teach it in their schools, including the US.
I cannot help but smile as I watch her in her different ways. Neither can her father. We are not mainstream. We are happy. I wonder if mainstream people are generally happy . . . I delight in things different . . . Happy New Year. As Amy Adams as Amelia says at the end of Battle of the Smithsonian (the sequel to Night at the Museum), "Have fun."
She had a hard time tearing herself away, but we agree to watch it from the beginning later, after some father-daughter wrestling time, which is extremely silly & completely cherished.
We made the movie a family affair, and she had a lot of fun watching the animals, which I could have predicted. However, there were reactions that I did not anticipate from her.
Theodore Roosevelt explains who he was as president, and she seemed impassive. Sacajawea, I thought would get her attention. She was completely unaware of Lewis & Clark as well as Sacajawea. I paused the movie and explained briefly.
This made me realize that while our sequential approach to history will help her have a better grasp of the overall timeline & progressions, it leads to her being unaware of the United States quite a bit longer. After all, in the scheme of human history, it is quite a young nation.
The miniatures scene got M very excited. "Octavius?! As in, Emperor Octavius? I'm so excited to see real Romans fighting!" This caught me a bit off guard. Yes, I knew she loved the Roman history, but I was still surprised at her reaction to the laughable and entertaining character in the movie.
As I was processing that, she burst out with, "Attila the Hun?! YES!!!!!!!!!" jumping up and down. Her father & I were shooting private looks at each other, realizing just how confusing it was to learn history jumping around, and marveling at how different her experience is from the typical school child's.
We are continuing the sequential history approach of Biblioplan curriculum, and still believe in its efficacy for M, at least. I wish I had learned that way. She is learning about so many facets of life in the different times, as well as how the changes affected various groups. We are using novels set in those times, as well, so she really immerses herself in that time, and she is writing essays and letters as if she were living through the experiences. She likes it, and so she soaks it up. Fun makes effective learning, after all.
In the meantime, the standardized tests will continue to indicate that she has very little political science understanding for her age. I laugh and disagree. She may be unaware of the parts they are teaching her same-aged counterparts in the schools, but I maintain that her understanding is stronger, and that she knows a great deal about political science. In fact, she can carry on an intelligent conversation with a teacher who specializes Medieval and Middle Ages history and point out facts that I was not aware of until those conversations occurs. To further stretch my abilities to parent, her observation in that particular conversation has political, military & theological significance. Yikes! I am not pushing her. I am getting dragged along behind her, while trying to maintain my footing!
What is my point? Well, we were reminded that we are not mainstream. I am okay with that.
No. I am more than okay with that. I am excited that M is learning deeply and having fun simultaneously. I am glad she is learning history sequentially and knows that the US is a very small part of the timeline. I am glad that she doesn't learn history from a self-importance slant, as I believe most countries teach it in their schools, including the US.
I cannot help but smile as I watch her in her different ways. Neither can her father. We are not mainstream. We are happy. I wonder if mainstream people are generally happy . . . I delight in things different . . . Happy New Year. As Amy Adams as Amelia says at the end of Battle of the Smithsonian (the sequel to Night at the Museum), "Have fun."
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Toys Are Overrated
When M was younger, I was convinced I was doing something wrong. She didn't play with her toys. Preschooleers are supposed to love toys. I must be doing something wrong.
We found some things she played with a little bit, then they stayed on the shelf while seh did crafts or read books or sat around looking aimless. I felt like a bad mom. Maybe I was being too frugal. I bought more toys.
Whenever she liked something, we went all out. Everyone in the family pitched in at birthdays and Christmas to get her the theme toy that she had been playing with. It didn't last long. I decided I had overdone it and ruined the enjoyment of that toy. I would have to do better next time.
After a while, I decided she must be really tired and just wanted to do art and watch movies. I bought more movies. I happen to love kids' movies more than M, so this was a less uncomfortable adventure for me. However, she got bored of the movies, too. It became another thing she'd sigh and accept, but not thoroughly enjoy. Fail. Again.
I recently heard a mom talking about a similar experience and it got me remembering. After we figured out that giftedness had a lot to do with this dynamic, we bought as many used nonfiction books as we could carry at a used curriculum sale.
We snuck them into the basement and onto a bookshelf, then surprised her with it. Finally, we got the reaction you'd expect on Christmas morning. It was Timelife Books and Usborne books and National Geographic books, etc. We had purchased almost everything science or animal related that we could find. We were both shaking as our muscles barely made it to the car with our load. It even took more than a week for her to read them all. Seriously, that's like a lifetime supply for some kids. Score. Finally.
Emma Watson is quoted as saying something like, "Don't think you're stupid just because you don't like the things everyone else pretends to like." I love that quote. I felt like the temporary toy interest was very much like that. I think M felt that she was supposed to like toys, listened to friends/classmates and latched on to that. When it was ust her, however, she'd much rather have a book. Only when we gifted her in an area of passion did she get excited. That is obvious to me now, but took us a long time to figure out.
Even though I have some intelligence and am aware of (and even embrace) my idiosynchrosies as fun ornaments on my personality, I fell victim to the social norms. Whether or not a person of any age is gifted or not, they need to feel free to pursue their passions. So long as it's not destructive, I think anything should go. As adults we do that. Why do we treat kids differently?
So, am I having a contest to give away all those unused toys? No. M sold almost all of them (because I made her keep some) in a garage sale and used the money to buy pet supplies. She has had no regrets & made a killing at that garage sale. My niece thinks I got rid of all my daughter's toys. She must think I'm the meanest mom ever. . .
The lessons I learned are:
1. Spending money on something the gift receiver isn't interested in is a huge waste of money.
2. Happiness is pursuing your passions.
3. Being like other people doesn't create happiness.
4. Being a good mom might look like something entirely different to an outsider.
5. People will judge.
6. I need to get over my insecurities and suck it up.
7. "Thou shalt not judge" probably means I shouldn't get all worked up about the judgement.
This was a good reminder just before the holidays as I'm tempted to enlarge the pile of presents. This year, our present situation is even more atypical than usual. M is the one reminding us that we already have our big Christmas present - we got a new pet this Fall & the timing was better earlier, but it really was a Christmas present plan. It was an awesome choice for the whole family.
Merry Christmas & Happy New Year. Wishing you comfort & peace, relaxation & laughter.
We found some things she played with a little bit, then they stayed on the shelf while seh did crafts or read books or sat around looking aimless. I felt like a bad mom. Maybe I was being too frugal. I bought more toys.
Whenever she liked something, we went all out. Everyone in the family pitched in at birthdays and Christmas to get her the theme toy that she had been playing with. It didn't last long. I decided I had overdone it and ruined the enjoyment of that toy. I would have to do better next time.
After a while, I decided she must be really tired and just wanted to do art and watch movies. I bought more movies. I happen to love kids' movies more than M, so this was a less uncomfortable adventure for me. However, she got bored of the movies, too. It became another thing she'd sigh and accept, but not thoroughly enjoy. Fail. Again.
I recently heard a mom talking about a similar experience and it got me remembering. After we figured out that giftedness had a lot to do with this dynamic, we bought as many used nonfiction books as we could carry at a used curriculum sale.
We snuck them into the basement and onto a bookshelf, then surprised her with it. Finally, we got the reaction you'd expect on Christmas morning. It was Timelife Books and Usborne books and National Geographic books, etc. We had purchased almost everything science or animal related that we could find. We were both shaking as our muscles barely made it to the car with our load. It even took more than a week for her to read them all. Seriously, that's like a lifetime supply for some kids. Score. Finally.
Emma Watson is quoted as saying something like, "Don't think you're stupid just because you don't like the things everyone else pretends to like." I love that quote. I felt like the temporary toy interest was very much like that. I think M felt that she was supposed to like toys, listened to friends/classmates and latched on to that. When it was ust her, however, she'd much rather have a book. Only when we gifted her in an area of passion did she get excited. That is obvious to me now, but took us a long time to figure out.
Even though I have some intelligence and am aware of (and even embrace) my idiosynchrosies as fun ornaments on my personality, I fell victim to the social norms. Whether or not a person of any age is gifted or not, they need to feel free to pursue their passions. So long as it's not destructive, I think anything should go. As adults we do that. Why do we treat kids differently?
So, am I having a contest to give away all those unused toys? No. M sold almost all of them (because I made her keep some) in a garage sale and used the money to buy pet supplies. She has had no regrets & made a killing at that garage sale. My niece thinks I got rid of all my daughter's toys. She must think I'm the meanest mom ever. . .
The lessons I learned are:
1. Spending money on something the gift receiver isn't interested in is a huge waste of money.
2. Happiness is pursuing your passions.
3. Being like other people doesn't create happiness.
4. Being a good mom might look like something entirely different to an outsider.
5. People will judge.
6. I need to get over my insecurities and suck it up.
7. "Thou shalt not judge" probably means I shouldn't get all worked up about the judgement.
This was a good reminder just before the holidays as I'm tempted to enlarge the pile of presents. This year, our present situation is even more atypical than usual. M is the one reminding us that we already have our big Christmas present - we got a new pet this Fall & the timing was better earlier, but it really was a Christmas present plan. It was an awesome choice for the whole family.
Merry Christmas & Happy New Year. Wishing you comfort & peace, relaxation & laughter.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
HAPPY Holidays, you say? Inspiration from sadness through a gifted friend.
Let me begin by telling you that I do wish everyone the happiest possible holidays. I apologize for the big break in posts. I had a happy Thanksgiving, but I haven't had a happy season of life.
Happy holidays is not a reality for everyone. Statistics attest to the fact that major health issues (that are complicated by stress like stroke and heart attack) go up during the holidays, and I'm sure it's not entirely from culinary overindulgence or increased debtload with holiday expenses. Worse yet, suicide rates go up during the holidays.
Life is not a Hallmark card, and the Hallmark company's spin on things has become a cause for derision from me. Why is it so bad that it's not a happy time for some? Most people who have gone through major struggles/trauma will attest to this conclusion. While they wouldn't wish it on others, they would not give up what they gained from the experience. Less than happy does not necessarily mean less than anything else. There is great value in the less euphoric emotions and seasons in life. They are real and valuable.
If you are in a happy season of life, I am genuinely happy for you. I hope that you can snuggle into that, basking in contentment or whatever positive experience you're in. Better than that, I hope it produces outflow that shows the best of you. That might mean smiling at strangers, financially supporting an amazing charity, doing amazing volunteer work, or simply being a bright spot in the daily lives of others just by being yourself. The last example reminds me of an amazing friend who has had a difficult year and yet is more present and thoughtful and generous than most people, even in the midst of difficulties. Such grace. . .
If you are not in a bright spot, my wish for you is a safe place to embrace the reality of your situation . . . your season . . . yourself. The things you are going through right now are part of you, reality and important. "Your story isn't boring, by the way. We're only given the one life. . . they matter. Maybe only to us, but they matter." ~ Tea Leoni as Gwen in Ghost Town.
One part of my life this year was the death of a friend. It was not the first time I had lost a friend "too young" - whatever that means. It will not be the last. It was not a quick or easy passing. There are opportunities and possibilities I grieve for her. I grieve for her husband who had too few years with her. I grieve for her mother, who never expected to bury her daughter. . . . so many possibilities for such an amazing person . . .
She continues to inspire me after her death. She's that kind of a person. I shared this link on facebook and she responded to it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJi_7f1cpbk It is an artist she had heard of and loved. It was a song she had somehow not discovered previously. Her embrace and enthusiasm of the song really impacted me. You'd think that she would be just depressed and a mess as she listened to it. Maybe she was sometimes. She certainly was justified to feel some self-pity, but I never saw it. This song seemed to invigorate her. She believed it with every fiber of her being.
I had listened to it repeatedly before her comments, but afterward . . . I has become a calming song, rather than a ranting song. At her funeral, all I wanted to do was hug the people who loved her so much and thank them for what an amazing person they had enabled to be in my life. I wanted to tell them my selfish reasons for missing her. Since then, I have thought that I may have finally figured out what's important to do at funerals. I have attended many in the last 34 years, but this one left me feeling like a better person afterwards.
My goal was not self-congratulations or self-promotion. My goal was to maintain self-control enough to be a comfort there, rather than add to the grief. Keeping it together might be accurate as my goal heading in. However, when I approached her husband, who barely knew me, all I wanted to do was thank him for making my friend so happy. I did. He seemed surprised and said, "She made ME happy." Her mother embraced me so much more strongly than I expected. Apparently, my friend had talked about the ladies I attended the funeral with and about me, and she felt a connection. I never knew. I held her mother, cried with her, rocked her, and told her what an amazing woman she raised and how much I loved having her in my life. That is honestly what flowed from my heart and my mouth. She cried even harder, but also smiled.
Oh, to be the kind of person who could inspire this kind of reaction from others after I am gone . . . it is a new passionate ambition after this experience. She still inspires me to be a better person. Even though I miss her and still cry, I like remembering her. I feel a mix of sadness and pleasure at the memories. In order to have my Hallmark card moments, I would lose the tears and grief, but I'd also lose the richness and love and inspiration. Never would I choose such a thing!
There are other sadnesses in our lives that have less inspiration attached to them. Those take longer to see benefit from, in my experience. They are still part of me. Again, I would not trade them. If I did, I would no longer be the person I have come to like better with passing time. They were an opportunity and impetus to evolve as a person. They are valuable, even when they resulted in injuries, pain, or even a necessary chasm.
If you are in a sad season, and you want to embrace that right now, I hope you will. It's genuine and can be very honorable and healthy. It doesn't make your holidays a failure. We are trying to take the opportunity to start some new traditions, and also to do some one-time things this season. I hope that my friend's family misses her terribly & tells stories about her that make them cry and smile and laugh and wish she were there . . . Those are very valuable moments. That is a successful holiday season.
If you are estranged from family, as so many are, I hope you gather some chosen family or new friends and have fun. One of my favorite traditions was inspired by a casual friend whose family saw a movie on each holiday. They went in their pajamas, and it was never busy. I love movies. We are incorporating more of those into our holidays, and sometimes with new friends. It feels good. Different? Yes. Good? Definitely!
Wisdom is knowing that rich experiences are worth so much more than smiles and pretty hollow words. I wish you an inspirational holiday season. We celebrate Christmas, so I wish you Merry Christmas, but not in the sense of hollow pretty words. I hope it is time to reflect, make choices, relax, grow and sink into the moments. May they be warm ones, happy or otherwise.
Happy holidays is not a reality for everyone. Statistics attest to the fact that major health issues (that are complicated by stress like stroke and heart attack) go up during the holidays, and I'm sure it's not entirely from culinary overindulgence or increased debtload with holiday expenses. Worse yet, suicide rates go up during the holidays.
Life is not a Hallmark card, and the Hallmark company's spin on things has become a cause for derision from me. Why is it so bad that it's not a happy time for some? Most people who have gone through major struggles/trauma will attest to this conclusion. While they wouldn't wish it on others, they would not give up what they gained from the experience. Less than happy does not necessarily mean less than anything else. There is great value in the less euphoric emotions and seasons in life. They are real and valuable.
If you are in a happy season of life, I am genuinely happy for you. I hope that you can snuggle into that, basking in contentment or whatever positive experience you're in. Better than that, I hope it produces outflow that shows the best of you. That might mean smiling at strangers, financially supporting an amazing charity, doing amazing volunteer work, or simply being a bright spot in the daily lives of others just by being yourself. The last example reminds me of an amazing friend who has had a difficult year and yet is more present and thoughtful and generous than most people, even in the midst of difficulties. Such grace. . .
If you are not in a bright spot, my wish for you is a safe place to embrace the reality of your situation . . . your season . . . yourself. The things you are going through right now are part of you, reality and important. "Your story isn't boring, by the way. We're only given the one life. . . they matter. Maybe only to us, but they matter." ~ Tea Leoni as Gwen in Ghost Town.
One part of my life this year was the death of a friend. It was not the first time I had lost a friend "too young" - whatever that means. It will not be the last. It was not a quick or easy passing. There are opportunities and possibilities I grieve for her. I grieve for her husband who had too few years with her. I grieve for her mother, who never expected to bury her daughter. . . . so many possibilities for such an amazing person . . .
She continues to inspire me after her death. She's that kind of a person. I shared this link on facebook and she responded to it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJi_7f1cpbk It is an artist she had heard of and loved. It was a song she had somehow not discovered previously. Her embrace and enthusiasm of the song really impacted me. You'd think that she would be just depressed and a mess as she listened to it. Maybe she was sometimes. She certainly was justified to feel some self-pity, but I never saw it. This song seemed to invigorate her. She believed it with every fiber of her being.
I had listened to it repeatedly before her comments, but afterward . . . I has become a calming song, rather than a ranting song. At her funeral, all I wanted to do was hug the people who loved her so much and thank them for what an amazing person they had enabled to be in my life. I wanted to tell them my selfish reasons for missing her. Since then, I have thought that I may have finally figured out what's important to do at funerals. I have attended many in the last 34 years, but this one left me feeling like a better person afterwards.
My goal was not self-congratulations or self-promotion. My goal was to maintain self-control enough to be a comfort there, rather than add to the grief. Keeping it together might be accurate as my goal heading in. However, when I approached her husband, who barely knew me, all I wanted to do was thank him for making my friend so happy. I did. He seemed surprised and said, "She made ME happy." Her mother embraced me so much more strongly than I expected. Apparently, my friend had talked about the ladies I attended the funeral with and about me, and she felt a connection. I never knew. I held her mother, cried with her, rocked her, and told her what an amazing woman she raised and how much I loved having her in my life. That is honestly what flowed from my heart and my mouth. She cried even harder, but also smiled.
Oh, to be the kind of person who could inspire this kind of reaction from others after I am gone . . . it is a new passionate ambition after this experience. She still inspires me to be a better person. Even though I miss her and still cry, I like remembering her. I feel a mix of sadness and pleasure at the memories. In order to have my Hallmark card moments, I would lose the tears and grief, but I'd also lose the richness and love and inspiration. Never would I choose such a thing!
There are other sadnesses in our lives that have less inspiration attached to them. Those take longer to see benefit from, in my experience. They are still part of me. Again, I would not trade them. If I did, I would no longer be the person I have come to like better with passing time. They were an opportunity and impetus to evolve as a person. They are valuable, even when they resulted in injuries, pain, or even a necessary chasm.
If you are in a sad season, and you want to embrace that right now, I hope you will. It's genuine and can be very honorable and healthy. It doesn't make your holidays a failure. We are trying to take the opportunity to start some new traditions, and also to do some one-time things this season. I hope that my friend's family misses her terribly & tells stories about her that make them cry and smile and laugh and wish she were there . . . Those are very valuable moments. That is a successful holiday season.
If you are estranged from family, as so many are, I hope you gather some chosen family or new friends and have fun. One of my favorite traditions was inspired by a casual friend whose family saw a movie on each holiday. They went in their pajamas, and it was never busy. I love movies. We are incorporating more of those into our holidays, and sometimes with new friends. It feels good. Different? Yes. Good? Definitely!
Wisdom is knowing that rich experiences are worth so much more than smiles and pretty hollow words. I wish you an inspirational holiday season. We celebrate Christmas, so I wish you Merry Christmas, but not in the sense of hollow pretty words. I hope it is time to reflect, make choices, relax, grow and sink into the moments. May they be warm ones, happy or otherwise.
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