Reading

Seeing Nicholas struggle with reading has been real difficult for me. He learned his alphabet real early and could point out letters by two. We would do letter flash cards and he would know all the letters in any order presented to him. He also learned the sounds to most letters. At two years old, I thought I would have an "early" reader.

But that was it.

Then he regressed.

It should have worried me when shortly after his 4^th birthday I pointed to his name and asked him what he said. He looked at me blankly. I asked him what the first letter was and his response was "B." I thought he was being silly, just not interested. But that was to be the way it would be. He no longer knew which letters where what and letters and numbers were the same to him. While I understood confusing an "O" with a "0" I didn’t know how he didn’t see "7" as seven.

I remember watching him push all the button on his microwave attached to his play kitchen. He pushed them in order, one by one, and calling, "I, S, E, H, S, B, T, B, P, O." He was about three years old when this happened and while I found it odd, red flags did not come up.

By the time he started kindergarten he knew the alphabet once again, though confusing letters such as "b" and "d" and he could not write any letters. He could recognize him name. I felt that would be enough to get him started. But that just wasn’t the case.

The first half of kindergarten was a nightmare for all of us. He would not be writing any letters, with prompting and help, until the end of kindergarten. First grade saw a lot of progress. He began trying to spell words and though they were mostly incorrect his attempts were genuine and you could tell what he was thinking. I still have the paper on which he wrote "wtr" to let me know he wanted some water. It was very special. At the end of first grade he had a couple of kindergarten sight words down and he could copy words but his penmanship was almost illegible.

During the summer I was determined to not only not let him forget what he had learned but to also get him to make progress. I came up with a curriculum that included daily writing and sight word flash cards. He resisted a bit but did make excellent progress. He started reading level 1 books with help. I was proud.

The second day of second grade I get a call from his new teacher. Amongst other things she wanted to know what had happened to Nicholas over the summer. The child she was seeing did not match the report she received from the first grade teacher. He knew many kindergarten sight words and some first grade words too. He was blending sounds and reading. I beamed.

School has been in session for a month and a half and he is making progress.

Several months ago we started a subscription to Zoobooks. I knew he wouldn’t be able to read them but thought we could read them together and by the time he could read them on his own he would need to re-read them anyway. So yesterday he was flipping through the pages of one of the books. I spotted a short description next to an image and I asked him to read it to me. His anxiety kicked in and he was stumbling. I started breaking down the words, showing him they were sound combinations he knew. After two words he was reading. He was actually reading a Zoobooks magazine!

It was wonderful.

He is no where near the reading level is supposed to be at. But the way I see it, he is reading no worst than I was at the beginning of second grade. Actually, I know he is reading better than I was. Back then reading didn’t start in kindergarten and no real reading was done until second grade. So he is doing well. And making progress.

Answers! Sort of...

We finally got the much awaited phone call and appointment and psych report.  We got answers!  Of course, being Nicholas, they are not the clean cut answers we hoped for.  But ANSWERS!

Lessons: Careful What You Wish For

When I was pregnant I had many "when you're older" conversations with my belly.  These consisted of things I wanted him to experience, things I wanted to do with him, things he'd be allowed to have, etc.  Because I was fairly certain he would be an only child I thought about extracurricular activities.  Would he like to join a sports team at a park?  Maybe he'd prefer some sort of martial arts.  Or dance.  Or chess!  Then I thought about how I'd react to these preferences, if there were any I'd object to.  Some women eat pickles and ice cream, I talked to my growing abdomen, to each her own.

I Have Failed

Across the street from where I live there is a little house.  An older lady lives there with what appears to be her teenage son.  I sometimes see a girl but mostly just the mother and son.

Choosing To Help

One of my parenting principles is not requiring my child(ren) to help.  I believe that by teaching compassion they will WANT to help out of the goodness of their heart and not from a feeling of obligation.  As such, Nicholas doesn't have chores and he is not required to do anything that is for maintaining of a home.  What he is required to do are things that are done for sanitary or safety purposes, because that is something else I also have to teach.  So he throws his trash in the trash can and he puts his dirty clothes in the hamper and picks up his toys (because we can trip and fall over them).

The Grocery Store

I have been wanting to write this post for a while, put down in words what a typical outing is like with Nicholas.  It just never happens because it never seems quite right.  And then I saw this video.  So let me start with our experience.

This is what a typical trip to the grocery store looks like:

We walk in, the flower display is on the immediate right.  Yes, Nicholas, those are very pretty flowers.  No, we cannot buy any flowers.  Please let go of the flowers.  I walk away in hopes that he will follow.  Come on, Nicholas, stay with me.  He runs to the berries.  You can have one kind of berry.  You want raspberries?  But look, there aren't any raspberries.  You can have blueberries, strawberries, or black berries.  Are you sure you don't want any?  I grab blueberries anyway, he'll ask for them as soon as we're home.  Nicholas, please stop spinning.  Stay close to the cart.  No running Nicholas, please stay close.  Can you help me?  Get some cheese for me, the one in the purple bag.  The purple bag, Nicholas.  Close the door nicely.  Nicely... Nicholas, please don't slam any doors!  Come one Nicholas, lets go get milk.  Stop spinning, please stop spinning.  Watch where you're going, Nicholas.  Please look in the same direction your body is moving.  Keep your hands to yourself, you're going to knock something over.  Please stop spinning.  Nicholas, no running!  No we're not getting cake today.  Because we have some at home.  No running!  Stay next to the cart, here hold the box of sandwich bags.  Oh good, peace, we're almost done.  Nicholas, please don't open that.  Here, can you put it in the cart?  Thank you for helping!  Please stop spinning.  Look!  You hit someone!  Can you apologise for hitting them?  See, this is why I say no spinning.  Keep up Nicholas....

The Homeless

*warning: very long*

Timing is everything and maybe this is a sign.

On Saturday we went to have a late lunch/dinner at a fast food place and not far from us was a homeless man just sitting, minding his own business.  He wasn't bothering anyone and I didn't smell anything when I walked passed him (I have a very sensitive nose) so I didn't find him bothersome.  It was a really hot day and he was probably just trying to stay cool.  He asked a couple of people, maybe 3, if they had spare change after they took time to give him a look longer than the normal split second.  One lady offered to buy him a burger, which he accepted.  A young man, probably older teen, was selling chocolate for some religious something or other.  I don't know what possessed him to go ask the obviously homeless man if he would buy a chocolate bar for his cause.  The man replied with, "If I had any money on me I'd buy the whole box."  They talked a little and the young man with the chocolates gave him a postcard with information to some sort of shelter or group home or something sponsored by his charity and a chocolate bar.

Unsolicited Advice

Part of being a parent is getting unsolicited advice.  I have come to accept that and, as a parent, I have several responses that I use for such advice:

“Oh, that sounds interesting. I’ll look into it.”

“Thanks, but that doesn’t really align with my parenting style.”

And an oldie, but works:

“Thanks...”

Back! Again...

Back in November I had written a rather lengthy post but did not publish it because it was late and I wanted to give it one more read through for grammar and what not.  Well, life happened and I never went back to it.  In retrospect, it seems senseless now and I may tell that story at a later date or in a series of posts later on.  Life has happened and so lets get caught up.

Teen Suicide: A Little Close to Home

It's been too long, a lot has happened, and the truth is I've been lazy.  Catch up may come later...

A little less than a year ago someone shared a video somewhere, I'm not really sure where, called "60 Days Later..." which was made by the parents of a teenager who committed suicide and how they were doing 60 days later.  Through this video I found their Facebook page and have been following them since. 

Yesterday, this page posted a link to a page recently created to keep people updated on a teenage girl who attempted suicide this past weekend.  Apparently she shot herself in the head and, as of this point, looks like she may recover (though with many problems).  As I was reading through the page and the comments I was overwhelmed by how many people were posting that they lost children to suicide.  I couldn't keep count!  I knew it was a problem and in recent years bullying has been highlighted as a major cause but I just hadn't been forced to see so many actual accounts.

The Potty Thing

We've been potty trained for a while now and I'm still not fully satisfied with it.  Not with the results, we're doing quite good, but how it all works.

My child only pees 2, maybe 3, times a day.  While this is good because I don't have to make a potty stop every couple minutes, it can be quite frustrating with planning.  I know he can hold it for several hours but that is several hours after he has gone.  So if he has not gone I do not have several hours.  And I can't make him pee.  I've tried sitting him on the potty when he has not asked and he simply does not pee.  So I have to resort to back ups like diapers or disposable trainers just in case he decides he needs to go when there is no way I can take him, like on the bus.  It would be great if I could have him pee right before we leave and know with certainty that I can get to my destination that is only an hour away with no problem.  But he won't pee.  And if I have a time I need to leave by and he does not pee I have to go through the process of undressing him to put on a disposable trainer.  Then when we get to our destination undress him in the bathroom to get him on underwear.  Too much hassle!

The Attack

Today I was attacked, scratched in my face, neck, arms, and hands.  I was attacked by Nicholas.

A tantrum over not getting his way turned really violent turning our visit to The Happiest Place On Earth into a scary ordeal.

It started during the flag retreat ceremony.  We do this ever time we go, it's something I feel we need to do and it is by far not the first time we do it.  He accidentally lost his soothie during the ceremony and it rolled in front of the conductor.  It wasn't even in his mouth, he had it in his hand, and he wanted to go get it.  I told him he had to wait and he was not happy with that.  He started throwing a tantrum over it but I stood firm that he had to wait.  It would have been easy to just let him go get it but they're paranoid there with their performers and I know having him approach the conductor was going to cause issues with them, even if for the briefest moment.  And really, he could wait.  It was almost over.  Patience, right?  So I told him that if he did not calm down and wait he would not get to go play on the firetruck like he wanted to.  He did not calm so when it was over and he had his soothie I told him we were not going to play on the fire truck and we were going home.  All hell broke loose.