We learned today that Athens Clarke County likes in line far more than online when it comes to registering for county recreation department programs. Clara and Margaret and I started standing in line at 9:15 this morning, and finally left at 2:45 p.m., having secured one of three summer classes we were interested in. They didn't get into a puppet making session at the art center, nor an animal-centered one. But we did make a gymnastics program that Margaret will enjoy far more than Clara, I believe. M isn't as coordinated as Clara, but she enjoys being upside down and bouncing and spinning around.
The girls were great while we were waiting. Not any whining or complaining. We did manage to go to the potty twice, traveling there by elevator and then returning by the coolest of all, an escalator. Both girls knew what an escalator is from the book Corduroy, but had never been on one until today. It was so exciting for both of them. Clara insisted I hold both their hands, which I was happy to do. And this particular escalator was really really long.
A couple of times today, as the line crawled along, Clara lost sight of me. She panics when that happens, whereas Margaret is happy just to find a new friend and be on her way. I am torn between making them paranoid and having them be too friendly. I don't want them to be afraid of people, but I do want them to be cautious. To speak to my friends and acquaintances, but no one else. I'm not sure how to do this. In familiar places, like Publix, they expect everyone they meet to be kind and friendly. For the most part, other customers and those who work there are kind and friendly. But I have read and written stories about children being snatched from grocery stores.
WWPD? What would Peg do?
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Being a Mama
So there we are, me in the driver's seat, Clara and Margaret in their car seats. I am spaced out a bit, but alert enough to eavesdrop on their conversation. When they play, sometimes Margaret is "Mother," and Clara is "Baby."
This afternoon, Margaret says, "Baby, I really am your mama."
Clara: "Mother, you can't be my mama. Real mamas have big feet, and your feet are little. And real mamas sit in the driver's seat and drive. Look at you, you're in a car seat like me. Mama is the real mama."
I laughed and laughed. So, that's all one needs, big feet. They are fixated on my feet, and my shoes. No matter what kind I've been wearing, they pounce on them and clomp around. Luckily, none of the heels are too high.
Yesterday was one of the most difficult days I've had with Clara. I don't know what was going on with her. She gets so excited and/or angry and then lashes out, sometimes at Margaret, sometimes at me. They had been playing in the sprinkler in the front yard, spraying each other and screaming with delight. Yup, it was 88 degrees here on April 5th!) When they came in to get washed off--they had grass in their hair--Clara was miffed about having to stop spraying. After being rinsed off and toweled dry, she was pressed up against my thigh and I was drying her hair. She bit me in the leg, and it really hurt. To the uncooperative chair she went, with restrictions about playing with Harper, our lovely next-door neighbor. In the course of the evening, Clara also kicked and hit me when things didn't go her way.
She told me later that she does these things when she doesn't think. So I encouraged her to start thinking, or she will never see her friends again. It takes a lot of self control on my part not to hit her back when she hurts me, but you know what? I'm way bigger than Clara is, and I could really hurt her.
Whenever I put her in the uncooperative chair, Margaret starts calling, "Dee Facts! Dee Facts!" The Department of Family and Children's Services, or DFACS, takes children away from mean parents, they both know. So Margaret calls them to rescue Clara.
Where was DFACS on Sunday? We went to a church-sponsored egg hunt after church. Some well-intended parents had scattered about 400 eggs around a playground, without hiding them. These are little plastic eggs filled with candy or toys. We were the first to the playground, because the girls wanted to play, and had to wait about 20 minutes before things got underway. Other children and parents arrived and crowded on the stairway leading to the playground. We moved into the shade to wait and let the others go into the playground first. About a minute after the gate had opened, all the eggs were gone. Clara found one, Margaret found none, while some children walked away with thirty or forty eggs. One dad and his son were high-fiving. I didn't like this event; it wasn't a hunt, it was a free-for-all, competitive candy grab. I may stage an egg hunt at home myself next year and actually hide the eggs. That's what Clara and Margaret like, finding things.
Candy isn't the primary reward, discovery is. Besides, they know I'm going to dole out their candy. Because that's what big-footed mamas do.
This afternoon, Margaret says, "Baby, I really am your mama."
Clara: "Mother, you can't be my mama. Real mamas have big feet, and your feet are little. And real mamas sit in the driver's seat and drive. Look at you, you're in a car seat like me. Mama is the real mama."
I laughed and laughed. So, that's all one needs, big feet. They are fixated on my feet, and my shoes. No matter what kind I've been wearing, they pounce on them and clomp around. Luckily, none of the heels are too high.
Yesterday was one of the most difficult days I've had with Clara. I don't know what was going on with her. She gets so excited and/or angry and then lashes out, sometimes at Margaret, sometimes at me. They had been playing in the sprinkler in the front yard, spraying each other and screaming with delight. Yup, it was 88 degrees here on April 5th!) When they came in to get washed off--they had grass in their hair--Clara was miffed about having to stop spraying. After being rinsed off and toweled dry, she was pressed up against my thigh and I was drying her hair. She bit me in the leg, and it really hurt. To the uncooperative chair she went, with restrictions about playing with Harper, our lovely next-door neighbor. In the course of the evening, Clara also kicked and hit me when things didn't go her way.
She told me later that she does these things when she doesn't think. So I encouraged her to start thinking, or she will never see her friends again. It takes a lot of self control on my part not to hit her back when she hurts me, but you know what? I'm way bigger than Clara is, and I could really hurt her.
Whenever I put her in the uncooperative chair, Margaret starts calling, "Dee Facts! Dee Facts!" The Department of Family and Children's Services, or DFACS, takes children away from mean parents, they both know. So Margaret calls them to rescue Clara.
Where was DFACS on Sunday? We went to a church-sponsored egg hunt after church. Some well-intended parents had scattered about 400 eggs around a playground, without hiding them. These are little plastic eggs filled with candy or toys. We were the first to the playground, because the girls wanted to play, and had to wait about 20 minutes before things got underway. Other children and parents arrived and crowded on the stairway leading to the playground. We moved into the shade to wait and let the others go into the playground first. About a minute after the gate had opened, all the eggs were gone. Clara found one, Margaret found none, while some children walked away with thirty or forty eggs. One dad and his son were high-fiving. I didn't like this event; it wasn't a hunt, it was a free-for-all, competitive candy grab. I may stage an egg hunt at home myself next year and actually hide the eggs. That's what Clara and Margaret like, finding things.
Candy isn't the primary reward, discovery is. Besides, they know I'm going to dole out their candy. Because that's what big-footed mamas do.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Take my girls. Please
This morning, we spent an hour or so preparing to go to the library. Rather, the girls and Gene were headed to the library. To get books and draw with the computers and have fun, I hoped. As they were climbing into the car, Margaret started yelling for me to put her in her carseat...but I still had on my pj's and was barefooted. Gene said, "Well, if you don't want to go, just stay home," and I yelled, "No! No! and ran out into the driveway in my pj's and no shoes and put her in her carseat. Gene said, "Do you want to be like that woman? What are you doing?"
That woman was Mae Eggert, who jumped over her backyard fence buck naked one day while a group of kids was playing basketball in the adjacent yard. She was manic, jumping over and over this low fence, cackling. I don't want to end up like Mae. Which is why I wanted Gene to spend time, alone, with the girls this morning. I have to head to the store for some Easter basket goodies (I know, I'm late!) when they aren't around. Also need to pick up the house, wash some clothes and plan food for tomorrow.
Clara has taken to saying very snappy things. Like "What are you up to?" And "How's it going, Mama?" Gene and I were talking about how much fun it is to walk and think and Clara announced, "I never think when I walk." That struck us as funny. Margaret told me "I've told you a million times," about something or other. I understand more and more why Daddy made up words. That way no little ears every caught ugly words and repeated them.
Am off to the day's duties. Will report on Easter later. It's lovely outside here.
That woman was Mae Eggert, who jumped over her backyard fence buck naked one day while a group of kids was playing basketball in the adjacent yard. She was manic, jumping over and over this low fence, cackling. I don't want to end up like Mae. Which is why I wanted Gene to spend time, alone, with the girls this morning. I have to head to the store for some Easter basket goodies (I know, I'm late!) when they aren't around. Also need to pick up the house, wash some clothes and plan food for tomorrow.
Clara has taken to saying very snappy things. Like "What are you up to?" And "How's it going, Mama?" Gene and I were talking about how much fun it is to walk and think and Clara announced, "I never think when I walk." That struck us as funny. Margaret told me "I've told you a million times," about something or other. I understand more and more why Daddy made up words. That way no little ears every caught ugly words and repeated them.
Am off to the day's duties. Will report on Easter later. It's lovely outside here.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Spring is coming
The girls don't go to school on Friday. So we had big plans today....first, swimming at the Y, then lunch at the pharmacy, then a nearby playground, and finally some errands downtown requiring a bus ride. They love riding the bus. Well, while I was putting on my shoes, they got into an argument which ended with Clara biting Margaret's finger hard enough to draw blood. Needless to say, Clara ended up getting a swat (I swat them if they hurt each other on purpose, and with delight) and then was confined to the Uncooperative Chair for a few minutes. And she was not allowed to go swimming. The last one was the hardest to enforce. She wanted to go swimming and had even gotten out our swim bag and swim suits and a snack for afterwards. And then she didn't get to go. Even Margaret missed her. But when we got home, Clara told me she wasn't going to bite Margaret anymore. She had not bitten her in two years, and she had never drawn blood. I don't think she will do it again.
We walked to Five Points, a nearby commercial area, and they helped me return some cereal at our local health food store. Then we stopped at the toy store for a quick viewing of possible Easter bunny gifts and at the consignment shop to see if anyone had purchased some clothes i was trying to sell. Lots of new toys and great gifts but no one has yet bought anything of mine. Too bad, the two are related.
Clara wants a few things. She wants so many things, she told me, that we need to get a bigger house to hold them all. Ha ha, I said to her. She said I don't need them, Mommy, I just want them. I explained everyone wants things they don't need. And that sometimes it's fun just to look. She agreed. Margaret wanted what else? A bunny. And a fake cell phone so she can call Roxy. We haven't seen Roxy in weeks. Her husband is making her clean houses instead of babysit, because house cleaning pays more than twice what babysitting does. I always thought you dance with the one what brung you, and i did direct her to all her house cleaning clients....but they do things differently in Salvador. I'm needing someone just one or two afternoons a week, just so i can think quietly for a little while. If anyone knows anyone, send them my way.
We walked to Five Points, a nearby commercial area, and they helped me return some cereal at our local health food store. Then we stopped at the toy store for a quick viewing of possible Easter bunny gifts and at the consignment shop to see if anyone had purchased some clothes i was trying to sell. Lots of new toys and great gifts but no one has yet bought anything of mine. Too bad, the two are related.
Clara wants a few things. She wants so many things, she told me, that we need to get a bigger house to hold them all. Ha ha, I said to her. She said I don't need them, Mommy, I just want them. I explained everyone wants things they don't need. And that sometimes it's fun just to look. She agreed. Margaret wanted what else? A bunny. And a fake cell phone so she can call Roxy. We haven't seen Roxy in weeks. Her husband is making her clean houses instead of babysit, because house cleaning pays more than twice what babysitting does. I always thought you dance with the one what brung you, and i did direct her to all her house cleaning clients....but they do things differently in Salvador. I'm needing someone just one or two afternoons a week, just so i can think quietly for a little while. If anyone knows anyone, send them my way.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Help is on the way
It's a little difficult to sit in a room with eight professional education types and listen to them talk not quite English about your child. But I listened well, and asked a lot of questions and learned quite a bit. The upshot is Margaret is just fine, a little above average cognitively, but not up to peer level on her fine and gross motor skills or her social skills. Which I already knew. The great part is that she's going to get special education services at her pre-school. And that she is going to advance to the four-year-old class come fall, and to have a fabulous teacher.
They're even going to evaluate her for more occupational therapy, to be given to her in the school setting as well. We already go to a private pediatric occupational therapist once a week. Clara went with us last week, and told me, confidentially, with her hand over her mouth, "All Tita does there is play, Mama!" Which is true, but some of that play is hard work. And all the services and help Margaret is going to get are free. She doesn't need speech therapy, which kind of astounds me. She was way above average verbally, though not with physical verbal cues. Something the special ed person will work on with her. Such as, if you make an angry face at someone, chances are that person will make an angry face at you.
But I was so relieved to have the meeting convene and then end on a positive note. I learned that many parents who hear their child needs help just refuse to accept the help or the conclusions. They expect their kid to be perfect, and don't want to hear anything but that. Kids have been withdrawn from our pre-school because the parents didn't want to hear anything but positive news. I am convinced that, with help, Margaret will be ready for kindergarten when Clara is ready, which will be in the fall of 2011.
We have discovered on line all these old Mickey Mouse cartoons from the late 1920's. They are hilarious, black and white and just wacky. I understand that Walt was involved in these cartoons. Very very funny stuff. The girls love them, and so do I.
Clara has picked out her next big purchase. She wants a bunk bed from the Land of Nod that has a double bed down below and a single bunk above. It's a very cool setup, but it costs about two thousand dollars. We can't swing that, but maybe Gene can build something similar. It's such a good idea. Margaret has claimed the bottom, and Clara wants the top bunk. Don't think this is happening for them right now.
I can hear Margaret snoring. She has snored since she was a baby. There's nothing wrong with her lungs, and she doesn't get ear infections or have any problems. But, Lord, the girl can snore!
They're even going to evaluate her for more occupational therapy, to be given to her in the school setting as well. We already go to a private pediatric occupational therapist once a week. Clara went with us last week, and told me, confidentially, with her hand over her mouth, "All Tita does there is play, Mama!" Which is true, but some of that play is hard work. And all the services and help Margaret is going to get are free. She doesn't need speech therapy, which kind of astounds me. She was way above average verbally, though not with physical verbal cues. Something the special ed person will work on with her. Such as, if you make an angry face at someone, chances are that person will make an angry face at you.
But I was so relieved to have the meeting convene and then end on a positive note. I learned that many parents who hear their child needs help just refuse to accept the help or the conclusions. They expect their kid to be perfect, and don't want to hear anything but that. Kids have been withdrawn from our pre-school because the parents didn't want to hear anything but positive news. I am convinced that, with help, Margaret will be ready for kindergarten when Clara is ready, which will be in the fall of 2011.
We have discovered on line all these old Mickey Mouse cartoons from the late 1920's. They are hilarious, black and white and just wacky. I understand that Walt was involved in these cartoons. Very very funny stuff. The girls love them, and so do I.
Clara has picked out her next big purchase. She wants a bunk bed from the Land of Nod that has a double bed down below and a single bunk above. It's a very cool setup, but it costs about two thousand dollars. We can't swing that, but maybe Gene can build something similar. It's such a good idea. Margaret has claimed the bottom, and Clara wants the top bunk. Don't think this is happening for them right now.
I can hear Margaret snoring. She has snored since she was a baby. There's nothing wrong with her lungs, and she doesn't get ear infections or have any problems. But, Lord, the girl can snore!
Sunday, March 21, 2010
spring is coming....eventually!
Redken Smooth Down. I love you.
This is the shampoo that's saving me half an hour every day. That's letting me brush and even comb Margaret's hair without fighting her. That makes her beautiful hair even more lovely. Ahhh. Before I learned about Smooth Down, I spent 45 minutes a day combing and brushing her oh-so-curly hair. One week, I decided to forgo a good de-tangling, and her hair almost went completely to reddish blonde dreadlocks. So now we have hair that's down to the middle of her back when wet, and just a little above her shoulders when dry, floating like a cloud. And both she and I are much happier.
Margaret and Clara are going to be singing in church this coming Sunday, along with 20 other little people. I can't wait to hear them. I am sure I'm going to be that obnoxious mama crowding to the front of every performance. Maybe I can find a way to get it on film! Both girls like to hear me sing, which I do constantly, and both love to sing. Clara can actually carry a tune; Margaret sings herself to sleep at night, and she, too, can sing recognizable songs. Though she won't do it in the day. Probably doesn't want to compete with her hammy mama and sister.
Tomorrow we meet with Clarke County public school system officials. I had them do a pre-school assessment on Margaret to see if she will be ready for four-year-old work come fall. If they decide she's not ready, they will offer a plan for how they can help her get there, by providing occupational therapy, speech therapy and other services. We already see an occupational therapist every week, and her sessions are having a very positive effect on Margaret and her abilities, thank God. Gene and I are going, along with the principal of the school Clara and Margaret attend, and our occupational therapist. I need someone to translate all that educational jargon for me. Keep your fingers crossed.
This is the shampoo that's saving me half an hour every day. That's letting me brush and even comb Margaret's hair without fighting her. That makes her beautiful hair even more lovely. Ahhh. Before I learned about Smooth Down, I spent 45 minutes a day combing and brushing her oh-so-curly hair. One week, I decided to forgo a good de-tangling, and her hair almost went completely to reddish blonde dreadlocks. So now we have hair that's down to the middle of her back when wet, and just a little above her shoulders when dry, floating like a cloud. And both she and I are much happier.
Margaret and Clara are going to be singing in church this coming Sunday, along with 20 other little people. I can't wait to hear them. I am sure I'm going to be that obnoxious mama crowding to the front of every performance. Maybe I can find a way to get it on film! Both girls like to hear me sing, which I do constantly, and both love to sing. Clara can actually carry a tune; Margaret sings herself to sleep at night, and she, too, can sing recognizable songs. Though she won't do it in the day. Probably doesn't want to compete with her hammy mama and sister.
Tomorrow we meet with Clarke County public school system officials. I had them do a pre-school assessment on Margaret to see if she will be ready for four-year-old work come fall. If they decide she's not ready, they will offer a plan for how they can help her get there, by providing occupational therapy, speech therapy and other services. We already see an occupational therapist every week, and her sessions are having a very positive effect on Margaret and her abilities, thank God. Gene and I are going, along with the principal of the school Clara and Margaret attend, and our occupational therapist. I need someone to translate all that educational jargon for me. Keep your fingers crossed.
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