My Own Little World

When I was growing up, I attended Catholic school.  It was never a question; it was simply what we did.  I come from an Irish Catholic family, and I grew up in areas where the other families were very much like mine.  We attended church every Sunday with many of our neighbors, and it never dawned on me that not everyone did and believed and lived as we did.

It wasn't until I was in the third grade that it dawned on me - innocent and oh-so-naive me - that there were people who are different.  I remember very clearly my mother driving me to school one day in the winter and seeing other children playing on some huge snowbanks.  My mom explained that they were waiting for the bus, but there was more.  She warned me to stay "away from those Publics" as she termed them.  I was somewhat afraid of children who attended public school for awhile after that, as my mom had very clearly communicated to me that there was something wrong with them.

It was clear to me - intentionally or not - that the way we lived was the only right way.  That what others did wasn't valid and wasn't even worth talking about.  I remained immersed in my little world for a long time, and I knew no different.

As I got a little older - and moved to a slightly more diverse area - I realized that there were people who were different from me.  There were people who were Lutherans (I lived in Minnesota by this point).  I even was friends with some of them, as they lived in my neighborhood.  One of my best friends went to Lutheran school, and I remember being jealous that I couldn't attend her school, as it was so much larger and more beautiful than my 1950s crumbling parochial school. 

Eventually, I discovered that a neighbor three doors down who I am still friends with today was Jewish, a religion I had heretofore only known as something that existed in the Old Testament.  Go figure.  I was fascinated by the fact that she went to Hebrew school every Wednesday and by the little yellow bus that came to pick her up each week.  I wanted to learn a foreign language like she did, as much as she complained about the homework and Hebrew practice she had to do.  It was so far beyond my ken, but I was hooked.

I wonder in a way if making these friends wasn't part of what pushed me to separate from my own Irish Catholic upbringing.  As I entered eighth grade, I talked my parents into letting me attend public school (with those nasty publics, ya know).  I pushed back on the faith I'd grown up with, and it took me a long time to work my way back towards finding my place within it again as an adult.

Those friends opened my eyes to so many different parts of the world, and I'm grateful.  I think it's served me well over the years to know that the little corner of the world that I grew up knowing is just that - a little corner.  There's so much more out there, but that doesn't mean that I've abandoned that corner.  I still attend Catholic Mass (almost) every Sunday, and Mister Man just made his First Communion on Saturday.

As a parent, I don't want to do that to the wee ones.  While it's important to have a life view and to identify with a certain group - whether religious, ethnic, sports teams, or otherwise - it's just as important to recognize that it isn't the only point of view out there. I want the wee ones to have a different view on life.

I'm very glad they already know that many different corners are out there.  I enjoy explaining to Mister Man what a bat mitzvah is - something he recently read about in a book - or talking about Hindu gods or debating the merits of various sports affiliations.  I wonder if that doesn't make our own little corner of the world more treasured for the wee ones, not more valid and not more special but more treasured because we know its ours.

What does your corner of the world look like?

In the interest of full disclosure, this post is a part of the From Left to Write book club.  I received a copy of "I Am Forbidden" by Anouk Markovits for review purposes.  In this book club, we don't do traditional reviews but instead write posts inspired by the book.  I was not compensated, and all opinions expressed remain my own.

Oh Yeah... Laundry!

I know I'm not the only one. I'm tired of laundry. I don't actually hate doing it, but I'm just tired of it. It feels like I never have a chance to finish a load of laundry before someone in the house has put yet another item of clothing into the just emptied basket.

Yes, we are now all Sisyphus.

Every once in awhile, I just pretend like the laundry isn't there. I'll go for a few days or even gasp a week without doing laundry. I do have to check to ensure that Mister Man has enough uniform pants and shirts so that I don't get into trouble there. We've only had to go into the dirty clothes basket once to get a pair of pants this year, and that was because he somehow outgrew three pairs that we didn't realize until those were the only three pairs left.

Yesterday, Mister Man called down to me as he was getting dressed. Mooooom, I only have bad socks left. Ummm, ok. So they aren't your favorite socks. Big deal. Wear them anyway for one day, and I'll do laundry so that there are clean socks for today.

Apparently I should have delved a little deeper and found out exactly what Mister Man meant by "bad socks." Ahem.

And why yes, it was Mass Day for his school. The day when they have to wear their full uniform. Which includes only white, navy, or black socks. Oops.

I washed a lot of socks yesterday. He's good to go on socks for a good three weeks now, but I promise I'll do more laundry long before then.

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What Ever Happened To Leslie?

Friends are such important people in your lives. They come and they go - sometimes - but they all have a purpose in our lives and teach us various things about ourselves or others.

When I moved to Minnesota before fourth grade began, my family didn't have a house, so we stayed in a hotel until we found one (ha - good luck finding that relo package now). Being that Minnesota isn't exactly a tourist destination, living in a hotel after awhile becomes ... boring.

Finally a girl arrived at the hotel pool one day who appeared to be around my age - a first, I believe. We stayed and played together for a few days and became fast friends. She had also just moved to Minnesota, and her parents were just waiting for their house to be ready to move in. She was only there a week or so, but I really missed her when she left.

Fast forward to me moving into a house - a week before school - and getting signed up for that new school. It was a small Catholic school, and I knew no one. The first day of school was tough, as the cliques had already formed by fourth grade, and it was not easy to break in.

On the fifth day of school, I rounded the corner after getting a drink of water and spotted Leslie (my friend from the pool) coming around the corner the other direction. Imagine my shock - and joy - at seeing her again. Apparently she had been on the wait list for my fourth grade classroom (speculation is that my second grade sister got me in ahead of her) but had finally made it, so she'd just registered that morning.

You have no idea how wonderful it felt to have a rock like that. My life in school was instantly so much easier. We were best friends, and we spent so much time at each others' houses. She was an only child, so she had her own bedroom plus a playroom for her cool things like her dollhouse and unfolding chair into a bed. She had a Scottie, which I thought was the coolest thing ever. Plus, she had a really great singing voice, and her parents talked my parents into letting me join the children's choir. While I was never a soloist - she sang the Tin Man verse of "If I Only Had A Heart" - I enjoyed my experience, and it's probably a big reason why I enjoy singing today.

We were pretty much inseparable through fourth, fifth and sixth grades. In the seventh grade, there were finally two sections of classes, so I didn't see her as much, although we rehearsed The Sound of Music together frequently - she was Maria, of course, but I was Liesl (hey, it's a small school, apparently you didn't need that much talent).

But come the summer after seventh grade, I decided that I wanted to go to a public school for the increased opportunities - from larger classes to more electives. It was decided just before the start of school, and with my typical preteen selfishness, I threw myself into my new world. Finally, I was in a school with the other kids from my neighborhood. I wasn't the odd kid out, and I loved it.

I never saw Leslie after that. By the time I was a little older and realized how much I missed her friendship, I found out that her family had moved back to Washington state (she had come from Spokane). I did find out that she went to St. Mary's College by Notre Dame for college somehow, but I've never been able to track her down to apologize for disappearing and to try to renew our friendship.

I have no idea where she is today, but I wish I did. She made my fourth school in five years (due to moving) a pleasant experience for me, and I would have been lost without her. Although I made other friends at that school - including many I now keep in touch with via Facebook - hers is one of the two friendships from that period in my life that I most regret letting slip away.

So hey - if anyone knows where I can find Leslie Smith Field, have her shoot me an email, would ya? Ditto with Katie McCall while you're at it.

What friends do you most regret losing touch with?

Good Deeds Gone Wild

This year, we put Mister Man into a parochial school instead of our (admittedly, very good) local public school for a variety of reasons. It was something that I agonized over before finally making the decision - and of course afterwards.

I feel pretty confident that it was the right decision now. We love this school for so many reasons, from the truly differentiated education for students starting in kindergarten to the specials (art, music, gym, Spanish) that also start in kindgarten to the truly caring teachers there.

They've come up with some projects and activities for the kindergarteners that have really been winners. One that we're working on right now is focused on Lent. Each child was sent home with green strips of paper. Whenever the child does a good deed, we write it down on the paper and send it back to school. The good deeds will all be woven together to make one giant chain of good deeds showing how these little people can together make a big difference in the world.



I BIG puffy heart this idea. I love the concept, the explanation, and the execution.

And you know who else does? Mister Man thinks it rocks.



He is now walking around all day looking for good deeds that he can do from cleaning up the nursery at church to putting away groceries with Daddy to clearing all the plates at dinner (instead of just his own). And he isn't satisfied with just that; he wants to find more things he can do.

It feels kind of wrong, but I had to tell him today that he'd done enough good deeds for now and didn't need to look for any more right then. He had a long time yet to do more good deeds and didn't have to do them all right away. That still feels wrong just typing it - telling a child not to do any more good deeds?

This has been such a huge success with him that we may continue it once Lent is over. While he won't send it into school to make a chain with his classmates, we can do it at home. And this will also allow Little Miss to get involved (who of course wants to do anything her big brother does).

I'll be really interested to see if and how this changes his behavior at all in terms of some of the (typically) selfish six year old behavior he sometimes exhibits. Regardless, it sets him on a great path.

What do (or did) you do at home to help build a strong character?

I'm At The End Of My Rope

Mister Man is a good kid. I know all parents say that, but he really is. Or was.

He's a sweetie who loves to be a helper and really tries to please people. Most of the time. But his social skills and cues are low, and his impulse control sometimes causes issues, especially if he's overtired.

I fully acknowledge this. But he's a good kid. He has never gotten into trouble at school, and for that I'm grateful. Or at least, I was.

This year has been hard. The kindergarten teacher told all of us parents that the first month would be a hard transition because they were all getting used to a new environment and being in school all day. She told us not to worry.

Mister Man got in trouble for silly things like putting his hands down the back of another kid's shirt one day or pushing a kid who told him he wasn't going fast enough in the line to head to lunch. It wasn't anything major, but it was consistent enough that we set up a reward and punishment scheme at home.

If he was good all week, he earned a special prize like getting to see a movie with me. If he had a bad day, he lost that week's prize and also lost something he enjoyed like a library book or a stuffed animal. It seemed to make a big difference, and after a spate where he didn't think he could do it, we were sailing smoothly.

But... not so much anymore.

I don't know what's changed, and I can't get a good handle on it from him. He's getting in trouble again. He's having "no" days (each day is a different goal such as listening or keeping your hands to yourself, and you get a "yes" if you achieve the goal and a "no" if you don't) a couple times a week. Bigger than that, he's having yellow days, which is when you have multiple warnings for major infractions.

I know he isn't the only kid who acts out in school, as I hear from Mister Man some of the things other kids do, but they don't do it every day. And even when the first grader we carpool with was getting in trouble most days, it was for talking during class which is less of a concern (although still obviously an issue).

So far this week, he kicked a boy on Monday. He went into a corner and wouldn't come out later that day. Tuesday was a green day and no issues. Yesterday, he had a yellow day again for not keeping his hands to himself and not listening to the teacher in separate instances. Today, he had another yellow day where he hit two different boys on two different occasions.

The teacher wrote a note this time explaining that they've talked to him several times this week to no avail and that he's had to miss recess a few times as a consequence. It isn't helping.

At home, he long ago lost all his library books, and he'd already lost the privilege of going to the library to get new books. He has now lost his special sleeping buddies, and he knows that if he doesn't have a green day tomorrow, he isn't going to a birthday party on Saturday.

Today, he wrote apology notes to the three kids he physically bothered this week in addition to both his teachers. He's written apology notes before.

He's ashamed of the incidents, and he hates having yellow days. He doesn't want to misbehave and can't tell me why he is. And I'm trying to figure out how I can help him. I reinforce the rules before he heads off to school, and we go over what he should have done in provoking situations rather than react physically when he comes home.

But right now, I'm at the end of my rope. I don't want to have him kicked out of school, and I don't want him to feel badly about himself for his actions. He knows that he's disappointed us and that his behavior isn't acceptable. But I have got to find a solution.

PLEASE don't tell me to have him tested for ADHD. That isn't the problem or the solution, and I won't be medicating him.

I do wonder if it has something to do with the probiotic I started him on about three weeks ago... a few days before we really started having these issues. I had experimented with a homeopathic spray to help with focus and learning, and I stopped it a week and a half ago to see if that was it, but it's getting worse without the spray rather than better. I think I'm going to try stopping the probiotic as of tomorrow -- another friend of mine recently switched her probiotic and her younger son (who is an angel) has been acting out enough that the school psychologist called to talk to her.

I'm wondering if we don't need to get him to bed even earlier, as he's now waking up at 6am but telling me at 7:10 that he's super tired and wants to sleep. We know from experience that the more tired he is, the earlier he wakes up. Tonight, he went to bed at 6pm, and I haven't heard a peep from him.

Have any of you gone through behavior issues like this? Please give me some sort of hope... some suggestions (other than medicating him). What do you do in these situations? I'm debating asking the teacher if he should be held out of the kindergarten Christmas Program (he has a major part since he can read fluently and likes to perform), but I don't know that they can replace parts so close to the program.

I don't need any more grey hair. I just want my sweet little boy who does what he's asked. What can I do to help Mister Man find that little boy again?

A Fork In The Road

I've written before about our mental struggles over what to do for Mister Man with regards to his education. Do we keep him where he's at, or do we try something different?

Prior to this year, it hasn't been too much in the forefront, because the answer was easy. He was significantly delayed in his fine and gross motor, and he needed assistance in learning proper social behavior. While he doesn't have an official diagnosis, he is definitely in need of special services. Ergo, he attends the early learning center in our district.

He's spent three years there almost, and in that time he's made huge progress in all areas. His first year teacher was so wonderful and engaging, and she made a big difference. The fact that I didn't have to drive him because there was a bus available and -- oh yeah -- the preschool was free were just added bonuses.

He's a child who has physical deficits, but academically, he is way ahead of where he should be. He's just spent the last hour or so reading the last book in the Andrew Lost series. And he has just a few pages left in the nine chapter, eighty-six page book. The kid also does math in his head and just generally figures things out.

That's where the challenge comes in. When he's bored, he acts out by wandering the classroom and disturbing other children. We were concerned about this last year and wondering if we should have him try kindergarten (he's a deadline misser) since I was younger than him in the grade and had no issues. In the end, we kept him with his class, but we definitely saw some problems arise over the course of the year.

In elementary school, it's a whole new ballgame. You're a special needs child in a "normal" classroom setting, and once you are labeled a problem child, that dogs you through high school in our unit district. They don't do any sort of differentiated education, which means that he will do Jolly Phonics for the fourth year in a row. He will learn how to count to twenty. And I just don't see that working out too well for him.

We were hopeful that we would get into a special program our district offers where you learn Spanish. Half the kids in the program are native Spanish speakers, and the other half are English speakers. While he knows most kindergarten material in English, the Spanish part would be a good challenge for him. Unfortunately, the spots in that program filled up before they even got to the lottery, so no dice. That particular program also had the added benefit of being an extended day program, so he spent more time in the classroom giving him more chances for interaction with the other students, something we know will benefit him.

The other possibility was a local private school. It's really hard to justify paying tuition when we live in a "good" school district, but this merited consideration. The school offers full day kindergarten and because it's full day, they are able to offer gym, music, art and Spanish twice a week. I love the idea of having a full day kindergarten to transition to the rigor of elementary school. Oh, and did I mention that they provide differentiated instruction? Whatever level your child is at, they'll teach him there. That's a huge benefit for the kids who need some extra help and support to avoid getting frustrated by constant failure, as well as the children who have mastered the basic concepts.

But, it's a private school. They don't offer special services. And I don't want Mister Man to fall behind on any of his problem areas. Oh, and did I mention private school tuition?

We've been debating back and forth for months, knowing that we'll never know what the "right" decision is until it's too late. I did find out that the private school is supported by the school district and has to offer services. That made me feel better, even knowing I'd have to drive him to the therapies on my own time. Except that they only offer speech services to private school students.

*sigh*

We continued dithering.

Mister Man has been in summer school so far this summer, and I'm amazed at how well it's going. We had him do a gym class and a kindergarten class through the school district, never saying that he was special needs. He loved it and did well. The teacher told us that he was a model student. Hmm.

This week, he's doing a program sponsored by the Junior Women's League, and it's run by middle school students (supervised by adults!) in small groups. He loves it. He comes home telling me all about the friends he's made, and how he's getting to be better and better friends with the children in his group.

Hmmm.

He's down to forty minutes a week, and twenty of them are speech. Ten of them are likely to only be for the fall quarter. I can do some work with him at home, right?

So we took the plunge this afternoon. Luckily, the economy means that the school still had openings in the kindergarten program. He's officially registered as a Catholic school student.

Now I have to worry about uniforms and packing lunches. And carpooling. And finding a way to be in two places at once, since Little Miss's bus is bound to be dropping her off or picking her up when I'm needed at the school.

But Mister Man? He's in heaven (no pun intended). He is so thrilled that he's going to that school. He fell in love with it when we visited, especially the music class, the classrooms, and the fact that he could have pizza on Thursdays there.

When I told him there were still openings, he started his happy dance.

When I told him that he was officially registered, he gave me a huge hug and kiss.

I'm at peace with our decision. How can I not be? If only I'd had the wisdom to listen to Mister Man in the first place!

Soooo wish us luck as we start school on August 24!



PS Does anyone have any good recommendations for fun lunchboxes that I can do bento style that aren't $$$$$?

Shhh! Don't Tell

Do you ever have the urge to mess with people? Or just to pretend you're someone else? Maybe it's just my twisted personality, but when I'm in a situation where I'm never going to see someone again, sometimes I have fun pretending I'm someone entirely different.

I remember when my mom took me to Regina High School for a visit to see if she was going to send me there. Yes, I went to Catholic school up until 8th grade when I refused to go back to the school I had been going to where I would have to take Spanish from a woman who didn't speak it herself among other indignities.

Before I started junior high though, my mom looked into some schools as options for me. Regina, shockingly an all girls school, was one of those.

For some reason, I pretended my name was Stephanie. I loved the name at the time (and I'm still a fan now). I told everyone I introduced myself to that I was Stephanie. I wrote it on my nametag. I had glorious tales about myself and how I loved to sing in the choir and was really interested in history and all sorts of things that nuns love to hear.

And would never suspect to be false.

All was going well until the principal Sister ummm Someone (like I said -- people I'm never going to see again. Sue me, I don't remember her name) walked up to my mom and started talking to her. I didn't notice the conversation at the time, or I might have intervened.

The sister talked to my mom about her daughter Stephanie and how wonderful she was and how great it would be to have such an addition to the choir at the school and how excited she was to have such a great student coming.

My mom is quite polite. Picture Donna Reed (including the pearls and flip hairdo), and you've envisioned my mom. The poor woman kept trying to tell the sister that she had the wrong family, but to no avail.

The sister finally pointed me out, and it clicked in my mom's head. All I know is that I heard a very shrill "STEPHANIE" in my mom's voice. I froze and turned my head only to get the death look.

My mom politely smiled at the sister, and thanked her for her time. She marched over to me, grabbed me in the meat of my arm with a pincer grasp and dragged me out of the school building, muttering at me through her gritted smile.

Oddly, Regina was never an option going forward. Instead I stayed at my tiny local parish school for another year and then ventured into the public school system. After the tongue lashing I got and punishment so horrible I've blocked it from my mind, you'd think that I'd have learned.

But nope. On airplanes I'll pretend to be an architecture professor from Ohio State. Or at a play, I'm Sara with my husband Bobby. Sometimes, it's just fun to step into other people's shoes. I just make sure that my mom's not around when I do it now!