I guess I forgot to knock on wood...

Because homework has been awful!  I think there are two reasons that its been so bad recently.

First, G has hit a wall.  The novelty of the beginning of school is done, the shine is gone.  All that writing he has to do?  Not fun anymore.  Now it just sucks.

Second, the work is getting harder.  Its getting difficult for me to swallow my thoughts and just have him do what his teacher has assigned.  I don't always see the point of his assignments, but his teacher is also a colleague.  She's so nice and organized, and I see lots of positives.  I refuse to air negatives to G, and I also try very hard to never air negatives to our colleagues.  However, I don't like all the assignments, and the one time I tried to ask for an alternate way of doing the work, I got shot down.

What do I do?  Some of the assignments are pointless or could be done a different way.  I don't want to be the crazy parent that harasses her, especially since we work together.  I don't think we'd qualify for a 504 plan to get the assignments altered.

Rock and hard place.  That's where we are at.  For now, I'll just keep trying to stay sane while G is having meltdowns over all the homework, and I'll farm some of it off to Hubby.  I deal with kids with ADHD that don't want to do their work all day long.  It'll be his turn.

Halloween

Ugh. I absolutely hate Halloween. I think a large part of it comes from being a teacher and having to deal with the excitement leading up to it, then the candy coma on the flip side.  All day Friday, I felt anxiety clenching in my gut.  Wild kids at school.  Wild kids at home.  G hadn't slept well in days.

School was actually okay.  We worked hard this year on keeping the excitement to a minimum, hoping to decrease the number of significant behavior problems.  I don't know for sure, but I feel like it worked.  My students, 5-11 year-olds with disabilities, were great.  No major issues.

We had to stop by the grocery store on our way home to pick up a couple of staples.  G and J were monsters.  Not in costumes- just in behavior.  We made a mad dash and got out.

I fed the kids while waiting for Hubby to come home, all the while making sure the kids knew not to open the door if I was downstairs or in the bathroom.

We live in a quaint neighborhood with lots of smaller houses very close together.  We hire off-duty police officers to close our streets so that its safer.  It gets crazy.  For a town of 70,000 people, its a big deal to get 1,500 of those people in your neighborhood.  People were ringing my doorbell much earlier than they should've, but I ignored them since our porch light was off.  (Doesn't everyone know that's the rule?)

At 6pm, the kids were fed and in costumes, so out I went with them while Hubby handed out candy.  The first bit was great.  It was light enough out that I could easily visually track both boys.  J gets a little more nervous, so I hung with him.  G, with his poor social skills, was accosting people.  He'd walk up to other kids, get 12 inches from their face, and say loudly, "I know what you are!  You're a _________!"  I tried explaining that they know what they are, seeing as they picked the costumes out and were currently wearing them.  It didn't help much.

We made it through about a third of the neighborhood, then headed home to meet up with our friends who were going to go with us.  By this time, it was starting to get dark.  We were lucky that Ms. D, the mother who was going with us, was dressed as a giant glowing jellyfish.  She became our traveling meeting point.  We went by a few houses that we'd been to before, waiting for Ms. D's boys to get their candy.

Two houses down from us, G decided to practice his balancing skills by using a small retaining wall as a balance beam.  Sure enough, in the near dark, he toppled it.  Fortunately, we know the neighbors pretty well, so we went up to let them know.  I explained that we'd come back in the morning to fix it.

Off we went, turning down another street.  By this time it was pitch black.  Oh, did I mention what G was for Halloween?  Darth Vader.  In an all black costume.  "What about his glowing red light saber?" you may ask yourself.  He didn't have it.  I had to confiscate it since he'd been whacking people with it.  People we didn't know and who probably didn't like being hit with some random kid's light saber.

G got lost twice.  Took a couple of years off my life.  Ms. D and the boys, including J, would go one direction, and G would go another.  Fortunately Ms. D, the glowing jellyfish of awesomeness, took J with her while I went looking for G.  Both times, G showed right back up 3-5 minutes later near where he'd disappeared.  I tried not to panic, but you always hear those stories about abductions.  He sure came off looking like there wasn't anyone watching him at a few points.

Anyhow, I'd grab him, give him a good stern talking-to, then look around for the jellyfish.  After the second disappearance, I took him home and made him put on pajamas.  I did let him come back down for awhile after the candy was all given out.

I survived.  And I learned a really important lesson.  Next year, G will be dressed as something enormous and glowing.  A jellyfish, maybe?  A hot air balloon?  A twenty foot tall lightsaber?  Be prepared, people.  Its on.

Second Grade, One-Fourth In

We've finished the first quarter of the school year, and I thought I'd post an update on second grade so far.

- G is reading short chapter books independently.  He can read a Poppleton or Henry and Mudge book in one sitting, and then successfully take an AR test on it (a short comprehension quiz, giving points that can be used for rewards).  He can read a Magic Treehouse book over several days and take an AR test on it, although his scores aren't quite as good.  Maybe he forgets details in the two or three days he reads?

- G can do most of his homework independently.  Some days he does all of it on his own!  I talk to him before he starts about what all needs to be done.  I sometimes have to prompt him to keep going or to start the next activity.  When he's done, I look over it to make sure he did it correctly, then we pack it all up together so that nothing gets left at home.  Overall, I'm pleased with the progress he's making towards independence on homework.

- We've had one referral to the office.  He was fighting with another boy on the playground; they both got written up.  Unfortunately, he gets going over the dumbest things.  The playground incident was over his place in line.  He tussled with a girl over a piece of paper in the classroom.  These situations aren't anything for him to get worked up over, but it shows that he lacks self control.

- He's learning a whole lot.  I'm thrilled to pieces with his academic progress in reading, math, and other subjects.  The two teachers he works with seem to like him and enjoy having him in class.

I think there are several reasons that things are going well this year.  First, we've laid some extensive groundwork between the medication he takes and the teachers he's worked with.  We've put a lot of energy into helping him take responsibility for learning and behavior, while keeping him safe and secure in himself.  Second, I talk to his teachers frequently.  I know what's expected and I do what I can behind the scenes to meet those expectations.  I don't want to be the helicopter or the bulldozer, but I'm checking up on things often.  Third, (but just as important as others) he has teachers that are organized and consistent, along with caring.  We've handpicked his teachers, and its part of the success.

We have some areas that need work.

- His writing is awful.  His handwriting is illegible at times, although my OT friend says he's going to be okay.  He hates writing, so he doesn't practice much, and so he doesn't get much better.  Tough cycle.

- He's got his sensory issues still.  Picking, chewing, etc.

- Behavior will always be a work-in-progress.  We medicated him three years ago because the kids around him were getting hurt.  If his behavior was appropriate, we wouldn't medicate him.  It'll just take time.

Big picture?  Things are going well.  There's room for growth, but I'm pretty pleased.

A Tale of Four Shirts

The shirts I speak of are the four that my kids ruined this week.  We can start with J, who is mimicking his big brother without even knowing it.  J put holes in the waist and wrist areas of two shirts.  He enjoys putting his fingers through the holes, so he just goes for it during listening time at school.  He got off the bus Wednesday and handed me the whole cuff of a long-sleeved t-shirt.  He'd ripped it clear off after putting some holes in the sleeve.  One of the shirts was Hubby's favorite to see the kids in, and the other was a Superman shirt with a detachable cape.  I'm letting the Superman shirt stay in rotation for now, three holes and all.  Because I'm the kind of mother that doesn't mind her kid looking like a ragamuffin.

Now, on to G.  Man, oh man.  I was in a meeting with some parents on Thursday when G's face appeared at my classroom door.  He started to open it, his teacher appeared behind him, she noticed there was a meeting, and they left.  I was a little anxious, as they haven't shown up at my door all year.  It didn't look like an emergency, and five minutes later, I hadn't been called to the clinic or office.  So I knew no one was hurt too badly.  Once the meeting ended, I found Mrs. P, his teacher.

Mrs. P explained the situation to me.  The scab picking is still an issue.  G had picked a scab on his arm and then used his shirt to blot the blood.  He blotted the blood no less than 37 times.  How do I know?  I counted the dots of blood all over his new orange Cub Scout shirt.  (Thanks to All Free and Clear detergent, it all came out!  I forgot to pretreat it.  Not surprising.)

The second shirt for G was Friday.  He chewed through the neckline of another shirt.

So one shirt went into the trash, two are just ratty but usable, and one still looks fine thanks to modern laundry science.  I have ordered chewy necklaces for the boys to use, primarily G.  I may try them with J, too.  Hopefully we can have something for hands and mouths to do that won't involve ruining more shirts.  And I'm going to keep saying yes to hand-me-downs.  Then I won't feel so bad when the shirt doesn't survive these boys for very long.

More Medicine Antics

This morning G needed to take his meds so we could peacefully complete our fall activities with as little drama as possible.  We have no applesauce, so he would have to take it with yogurt or a drink.  He wasn't thrilled, so I left the pill by his breakfast and went about my morning routine in the kitchen.

I guess he was trying to beat me at my own game.  "If I walk away, he'll have to take it without arguing, because I won't be there for him to argue with."

"If I don't take it, she won't notice, because she's not here to see."

Stalemate for ten minutes until J says, "Hugo (the cat) is eating the thing G's supposed to eat."  I'm thinking breakfast bar or peanut butter crackers.

"Well, J, go take it from him."  I see J stick his hand in Hugo's mouth and pull something yucky out.  I figure he's just saved the eat-anything cat from some human carbs.  No big deal.

One minute later, G is yelling, "I can't take it now!  I can't take it now!  The cat had it!"

Realization dawns on me.  My cat nearly ate 10 mg of Focalin XR.  I jump up to investigate and find a slimy, chewed-up capsule that fortunately has no holes in it.  I'm relieved that I won't have to take the cat to the weekend emergency vet for accidental poisoning.  Boy, that would've been a fun story, right?  I'm sure it happens all the time...

I pitched the chewed up pill and get him a new one.  This time, I stand and watch him take it, and he takes it willingly with some yogurt.  And we both felt like winners.

Liar, Liar

We are currently having an issue with G and lying.  Up until the past month or so, he was faithfully truthful.  He would flat out tell you that he hurt someone or took something or climbed somewhere he wasn't supposed to.  I've cultivated that truthfulness and always told him how proud I am of him for telling the truth.  We've talked about the consequences of lying for years, so that he would understand why I am proud that I can trust him to tell me the truth.

Not anymore.  The lies aren't over big things.  One was about who made the mess in J's room.  G said it was J, while J said it was both of them.  G went to bed early over that, with lots of crying and promises to never do it again.  We had a long discussion about the consequences for the two situations.  If he'd told me that they both made the mess, I would've had them both clean it up.  Because he lied, there was a punishment involved.

This morning, the Lego city was partially deconstructed.  G insisted that J did it.  Upon arrival at the scene, J informs me that they both did it.  G immediately apologizes for lying and begins bawling.

So he's in his room for the day and has lost screen time for two days, at least.  I'm at a loss about other consequences.  Treat him like a younger child to show that I can't trust him?  Make each punishment longer and more severe since the earlier one didn't work?  I'm open to ideas, Internet.

How do you stop the lying?

Oh boy.

This afternoon, starting at 3:40 when G came into my classroom, was awful.  G had his hands on his brother for minor annoyances.  He shrieked and wailed about doing his homework, going so far as to stomp out in the hallway and throw his pencil.  He insisted that he needed help with his homework, which involved doing a spelling activity with 14 words.  He said he'd do "creepy writing", but couldn't get past scribbling on the paper.

I wrangled the boys home, and I emphasized the need to finish the homework the whole way home.  G kept talking about needed help, but he seemed game to get it done and move on to screen time.  Then we get home.

Homework?  Nope.  He was everywhere but at the kitchen table.  Quiet?  Nope.  He kept talking about needing help, which I told him I wouldn't provide.  Calm?  Nope.  We tried getting the blankie and the Smencils.  I yelled.  I begged.  I ignored.

Finally, I said, "G, What is going ON?  Why won't you just do your homework?"

G took a deep breath and then wailed, "Because you forgot my medicine today!"

Uh oh.  I thought and thought and thought.  Then I realized he was right.  I forgot the medicine today.

I had two realizations upon realizing I had indeed forgotten to give my kid his prescription stimulant. First, it hit me that it explains why he made some funny noises when I went in to visit his classroom and why he had to move his clip down for playing with all his crayons at once instead of doing his work.

Second, it hit me that NO ONE GOT HURT.  I sent my kid to school unmedicated, and no one got hurt.  I swear- the clouds parted, a beam of light struck me, and the Hallelujah chorus was playing.

 Okay, so I made up that last part.

But it makes me feel so amazing.  He handled it.  And thank goodness for his teacher.  She must have the patience of a saint and amazing teaching skills.  Sometimes we go forever without seeing growth and maturity, and then we get a great look at how wonderful our kids really are.