Final Week of School/Moving Out

We have less than one week to go before school is out.  We're attending our first bigger gathering this weekend, which I'm interested in logistically.   The point of the meeting is a good one—to celebrate the end of the school year and the graduating classmates, moving on to Upper Elementary. 

Upper Elementary is the last classroom at the Montessori school, my son (and formerly my daughter) attends.  My son started in 2011 as a toddler, and this coming week, he will graduate from his current class that he has been a member of for three years.  He came in as a first grader and an underclassman to the second and third-grade students.  He looked up to the other students who could confidently read anything because he couldn't read at all yet.   He watched them write detailed reports and give a fully memorized Mystery History presentation about a famous person in history.   He watched them and was inspired.   He learned from them as they graciously modeled proper behavior in the classroom.   He grew and now, in just one week, he will leave his class and will start the process all over again.

Next year my son will be a fourth-grader in a class that also has fifth and sixth graders.  But this time he will be one of the most senior students in the entire school.   He will come early some weeks to perform a special duty as a "Toddler Walker."  Only Upper Elementary students have this privilege because it requires maturity.   He will stand at the front of the school during drop-off and help the tiniest members of our school, some who can barely walk, get to class as they hold their heavy purple bag proudly on their shoulder, demonstrating that even the smallest humans are capable—something the toddlers become very proud about once they've mastered keeping the bag from falling off their shoulder.  Dragging the bag is allowed, however.  The bottoms of my children's purple bags were worn through.

My son will do many other things, like reading books to the toddlers if he wants to volunteer for this coveted job.   His class will do much in the way to help those in need and to help save the world by doing their part.   They will begin to become members of their community, more than just children in grade school.   This is one of the beautiful things about Montessori.  And by the time he graduates and continues on to middle school, we won't have to remind him to do his homework, because he will have learned to be self-directed with a sense of time management—because he's been learning how to do so since first grade. 

That's the future though.  This weekend his class is celebrating his departure and graduation from their class.  They have prepared a booklet, each student drawing a picture and writing their thoughts about him as they got to know him over the past one or two years.   

It's a surprise my son knows nothing about.  He hasn't complained about missing his annual camping trip with his class or the fact that the five-day trip to Washington, D.C. all third-years go on with their teachers was canceled.   He hasn't complained about anything.  I think Sunday will mean a lot to him. 

There will be more people present than I've been around except in the grocery store in many months. The event is taking place outdoors in a large space at one family's home.   We are meeting the same requirements that, for example, pools must adhere to in people per square foot.  Still though, it is going to be a bit strange.   It will be exciting too, getting to see his friends and he won't be the only one as I am very much looking forward to seeing the parents of other students who have become my friends since we joined the school. 

The Move Out Decision:  I think we're going to let my daughter, "move out" into Nana and Papa's bedroom.   It is going to be a minor move in that we're not redoing the guest bedroom into a child's room; all we're doing is moving her clothes and belongings into the room.  Later, we'll decide what to do once they've gotten accustomed to being apart.  Her brother, who I thought would want to go first, has now decided he likes his room and wants to stay.   He's not happy about her moving out though, he says he'll miss her and be lonely (this from the child who instigtes fights daily?)  My daughter has offered a compromise: she will sleep two nights each week in what will now be "his" room.   That's the plan as of lunchtime today.   Things could easily change, knowing how children are.   It's time though, and they're helping make the decision.

Colored Letters

My daughter and her class did a drive-by parade today to say goodbye to their second-grade teacher.  The children were making banners to wave from their cars and then give to their teacher as they passed her in her driveway.  

I had come up with an idea my daughter could do easily and successfully this morning that would still be readable by her teacher: I would print out thick block letters with her message, "you will always be in my heart" and then her name.   She would then color over it all, not having to worry where the letters were.  

Things went awry with her having a bad stomach ache that went on for a good bit of the morning so she never got the poster colored, but I asked her before I printed if she wanted her name in any particular color.   She did.

She wanted each letter a specific color—a very specific color that she had pictured in her mind's eye that she associated with that particular letter.   We went through all the letters in "Love Reese" and I made a mental note to come back later for more alphabetic color information.

Just before writing this, I talked to her and got colors for the rest of the alphabet.  And to make sure she wasn't making them up on the fly, I let her tell me the letters from earlier without any reminders.   She got them all exactly right.

These weren't any colors, mind you, these were very specific.  Like, "You know the color orange when you're looking at a pumpkin that has the candle lit inside it?   That's what it looks like."  There were sky blue and chocolate brown, coral and dark coral as well as some basic ones like dark blue.

I had a heck of a time getting some of them though.   Especially when she would say, "with a tinge of white" which she said several times.   She had a lot in the orange, yellow, and yellow-orange family which to her were all distinct, but caused me to go back and revise earlier letters when we got further into the alphabet.

There were several purples that were dark.   She said to me after one letter, "I'm really, really, really sorry here...but do you have an even darker purple?"  I got a break with the letter T as it was white.  "plain white?" I asked her, expecting there to be qualifications, but no, it was just white.  And then there was Y, which she said was, "yacht yellow".  Upon asking for more details I got, "A flag, any kind of flag that would be yellow.  Like that...but darker."  I asked her if it was sort of a dirty yellow, hopeful because I was running out of distinct yellows and was glad when she said, "yes, exactly like a dirty yellow!"



The Big Boy Update:  My son was watching what was clearly a baby television show today.   They had one episode for each of the numbers.   There were cartoons, songs and dancing.   I asked him why he was watching it as opposed to some of his other, preferred shows like Power Rangers.  He didn't know, but he showed me there were five seasons of the episodes.   I came out later and he was still watching, now all the way up to the number 100.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter had told me earlier her numbers had colors too, but I think wanted to be done with me tonight, saying, "Numbers are my secret.   I mean, I could tell you cocolate brown is number nine...but a lot darker."  Then she laughed at me because she knew that was  going to be a tricky color to find,

Elevator Speech

I talked with my daughter and her Orientation and Mobility teacher the other day during their video call.   I told him I had explained to other children in the past what her cane was for and the way I explained it bothered my daughter.   I asked if he had any advice.

He told me he always let the student explain if they wanted to, but in many cases, they fell silent.   What I had been saying was that my daughter's cane helped her find things she couldn't see because she didn't have the same vision they did.   She used the cane to locate obstacles so she could safely move around them.

He said his answer was always about what the cane did, not what the student couldn't do.   He would say the cane helped find things so my daughter could move around them safely.   If they asked follow-on questions, then he would explain more, but that more often than not, that's all the child wanted to know.

I talked to my daughter about it later.  Both Mr. Adam and I had explained that other children were fascinated with the cane and wanted to know how it worked.   Then I asked my daughter what she would say if someone asked her.   She told me she would say, "Excuse me, I am half blind and I need it so I don't bump into things."

I asked her if I could say those same words if she didn't want to talk at the time.   She said I could, but, "Momma, be sure you say, 'excuse me' first."

We had another conversation about what she and I could say if someone was talking to her and didn't realize she was blind.  Say, for instance, if they wanted to show her something.   She said she would say, "Excuse me, I am half blind, so I can not see what you are showing me.   Can you explain?"

Now I have approved elevator speeches with words my daughter doesn't mind me saying.   She didn't want to talk about this for a long while.  I'm glad she told me because I hated upsetting her by saying what I thought was best.

The Big Boy Update:  My son had an art assignment to do this week, drawing a Picasso-styled picture of himself.  This is what he drew:



The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter loves to get on the swing out in the back yard, place the phone on the picnic bench and sing at the top of her lungs while Mimi listens on the other end.  My mother sent me an email with some of the words my daughter was singing yesterday: "I love this swing.  It is my special swing.  I would cry if this swing were ever taken down."  My mother told her she was very creative in her songs.  My daughter replied back, "it's not me, it's the swing."

Time Apart

My children are doing a number on where they want to sleep at night.   They are on the verge of wanting to make a break and move out of the room they've shared for over eight years.  It's a perfect time for them to mull oversleeping alone in a different room without the other sibling because we have no plans for visitors to come to stay with us for, well, ever right now.

This means the other two bedrooms on our second floor that are set up as guest rooms, knowing that at some point we'd lose a guest room but gain two more independent children.

My daughter was all about "Mimi and Gramp's Room" for several nights.   This is the room my parents have stayed in when they've come to visit.  They live in the same city during winter months, but there was a prolonged energy outage so they came to stay with us for a few days, and therefore the room is now referred to by that name.

My in-laws gave us this entire bedroom set when they moved not that long ago.   It's solid as a rock and the mattress is really comfortable.  I know this because I used to sleep on that bed when we went to visit them.  Black Dog is guarding the bed.  (He is stuffed.)



The back bedroom my daughter is currently sleeping in, with the first night having her brother tag along.   That didn't go well so it was a good thing he didn't want to sleep with her again the second night.   Here's the guest bed with Tigger and Weasel on Secret Pillow.



They're both are aware we're in testing mode and that we'll make a decision with them possibly soon.

The Big Boy Update Tiny Girl Egg Hunt:   My children are currently having a social distancing Easter Egg hunt.   I gave them some eggs I had from Easter that I didn't put out (remember I got overzealous?)  They have paper or plastic bags and are hiding eggs for each other and then finding them.   I knew those extra eggs would come in handy.

Spelling Fail

There are a lot of words that aren't caught by spellcheckers.   This happens when a word is specific to a field, language or expertise.   I rely on spellcheckers to make it look like I can spell—which I'm terrible at.   I'm still tricked by the "i before e except after c" rule not because I don't know it, but because I'm typing away and the letters come out in an order that sounds right inside my head.

Words I still can't get correct no matter how many times I spell them include Hanukkah, hemorrhoids (which fortunately I don't have cause to spell often, still, it is a mystery how those letters come together), ophthalmologist, not to mention many shorter words that I'm stuck spelling wrong after years of misuse.

Sometimes I get to spelling a word and because spellcheck doesn't have a better suggestion, I add it to my dictionary so the little red squiggles don't come back.   Typically before I do this I confirm the spelling, but apparently not always.

I realized only a few days ago that I've been spelling "braillist" incorrectly as "braillest".   This is the job my daughter's teacher has.  I talk about her and the retired braillist, Mrs. Aagaard, all the time.    How rude of me!  I've got to figure out how to remove the incorrect spelling and add in the correct spelling.   And to top it all off, I look silly.

When this happens, the best thing I can do is point it out, laugh at myself, and do a better job going forward.   It makes me feel better, poking fun at myself for my mistakes.   We all make them, you might as well take the opportunity to laugh about.

The Big Boy Tiny Girl In-game Currency Discussions:   My son is prone to wanting to spend his money on in-game currency that, once converted to something other than dollars, seems like it isn't real money.   He's gone through his allowance in record time this way.   We've let him do this as a life lesson about how money can be spent quickly, without realizing it.   He's spent money on outfits, weapons, or other things inside one game that give him little time enjoyment from the game.   He's spent enough that when he wanted to buy another game, he couldn't because he was out of money.   We pointed out this to him and it is given him cause to rethink future expenses.   My daughter prefers to save her money but today she found an Amazon game she was enjoying and wanted to buy more "cheddar" so she could pop some more popcorn.   She bought a small amount, using her own money, not once but twice, that being the limit we would allow.   She still has cheddar to spend, but tomorrow I wonder if she will consider how fast the money went and the value of the time it took to spend it.   She might be a little harder to get a lesson brail because she has lots of money having rarely spent any of it.

Braillist Assistant

I got to be the assistant to my daughter's braillist this week.  She prepares materials for my daughter and I print them out, but some materials just can't be printed.   In this case, it was all about graphs.   There was a collection of videos my daughter would be listening to that would talk about the different graph types and while conceptually she could understand the information, she needed something to understand what the videos were describing—that the other students were able to see.

Here's what I created for my daughter.   She referred to them throughout the videos to reference the different parts of and types of graphs the videos were describing.   She seemed to get it fairly easily.  My daughter wasn't overly impressed with my work but her braillist said I did a good job, which made me feel good since she always does such a thorough job for my daughter.







The Big Boy Update:  My son really needs to interact with some children other than his sister.   He's getting in trouble because the way he wants to play with her is not at all how she wants to be played with.   I talked to him about going on some bike rides or other outdoor activities with the children closest to us.   Hopefully, he will get out with friends more this coming week.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  This morning my daughter came in and woke me up, saying, "Mom, I'm proud of myself."   I asked her why and she told me she had heard Kevo make a noise and realized he was stuck.  (Kevo is our Roomba.)  She remembered she had dropped a hair tie on the floor so she went to Kevo, turned him over, pulled out the stuck hair tie, flipped him back over and pressed his butten.   "Then he started up again and he was fixed!"   I was proud of her, too, I said.

The Chef and The Crab

This afternoon my husband talked the children into watching The Little Mermaid.  In some households, you wouldn't find that to be a problem—getting the children to agree to watch a movie.   Here, we have a two-fold problem.  

My son is the first obstacle: he doesn't want to watch a movie unless he's seen it already.   And sometimes, he doesn't want to watch the movie even if he has seen it.   Maybe he's a little like me in that he doesn't want to commit to a long period in front of the television.   It's hard sometimes to even get him to the theater to see a movie he wants to see.

What we have to do typically is put the movie on and as long as he's in the room for thirty seconds, he's hooked.   The one exception to this rule is movies in a series, like Harry Potter or Star Wars.   In those cases, he wants to watch them all in a row, preferably in one sitting if we'd let him stay up until morning in the case of Star Wars.

My daughter doesn't want to watch movies because she can't see them.   Movies don't describe things in the same way that a book does.  There is descriptive audio on many movies and we try to suggest and try to find movies that provide it.  

Saturday's sunny late afternoon rays must have shone on my husband and given him powers of movie persuasion though because both children came to the living room to watch.   They watched until dinner was ready and then finished the movie afterward.

And then, because there is a second movie, they started that one with my son's hearty enthusiasm.  After a bit, we all headed outside to jump on the trampoline before darkness set in.   I came in after talking to the neighbor about unexpected emergency surgery their dog had to have after inhaling a four-inch bone (she is a Daschaund).   My son came in shortly thereafter and started the movie again while his sister and father continued to jump.

I was working on the computer when I heard uproarious laughter coming from my son in the living room.   He ran in and told me excitedly, "it's the entire point of the movies, the chef and the crab!"   If you haven't seen the movies, the crab, Sebastian, has altercations with the palace chef throughout the movie.   The chef trying to make dinner out the crab is my son's favorite part of the movie, he told me.

We've been trying to get them to see The Little Mermaid for a long time.   I wonder if their play for the rest of the weekend will be mermaid-related?

The Big Boy Update:   My son just ran in the room here, where I'm typing this on my bed.   He grabbed some pajamas and told me more about the chef and the crab going as far as saying, "I mean it should be a meme.   That's how important it is."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter might not have liked the movies as much as she did today were it not for the office chair she's recently made her newest obsession.   She spins in it all the time.   It's annoying to all the adults, including her teachers she meets with online.   I went through a spinning on chairs and piano stools during piano lessons phase myself, so I can understand in a long ago and far away way.   She brought the chair downstairs tonight and rolled around inbetween bouts of spinning while listening to the movies.