Does Coffee Come From Chickens?

I woke up to that question this morning.

Rant of the Mommy Homework "Helper"

In Confessions of a Mommy Homework "Helper", I wondered just how much homework help is appropriate. But that's just a part of the big problem, which is, how the heck is a parent supposed to find time to help with hours of homework a day?

I work full-time and am in school myself, my husband works around the clock, and my three-year-old is desperate for attention at all times, especially when Theo's getting all of mine during homework.

Not to mention the small details of getting Theo fed and cleaned after school. A bath is considered a triumph in this house. Keeping up with laundry and housecleaning are fantasies long since forgotten.

And because I'm a ridiculous mother who insists that Theo should have some fun in his life, he's in play rehearsals after school twice a week, which means by the time he gets home at 5, homework hasn't started yet. Theo must be in bed by 8 because he's on the school bus at 6:30 a.m., so that gives us three hours to make dinner, clean up dinner (ha! sometimes), do homework, and stumble through bedtime. And bedtime often isn't quality time with fun books and cuddles like it should be.

If we do get to read, it's usually one of the boring books he's assigned, since that's the only time we can squeeze them in. There are a few Roald Dahl books I'm dying to read to the kids that keep having to wait. And my toddler gets shortchanged, because I don't have time to read to her as much as I'd like.

I used to savor weekends for family time, but as the NYC Board of Ed views the weekend as two days that serve no purpose but 48 hours of available homework time, the assignments double and triple. (Notice I'm not blaming teachers.)

I thought homework was supposed to reinforce what was learned in school. So how did I end up giving my son a 3-hour lesson on Ben Franklin? And apparently not very successfully. If I -- a mom who works with words for a living -- can't get my kid to do a writing assignment, how are the non-English speaking parents doing it? Which is 90% of the parents in Theo's class.

Google tells me that plenty of other parents of third graders are fed up at the amount of homework their kids get and the help required from the parents.

I'm lucky to at least have a little guy who likes homework and who is always compliant. He even asks to do homework Saturday so he can play all day Sunday. I know many parents in my boat have kids fighting them every step of the way.

To all of you parents in homework hell, my heart goes out to you. And so does this rant. 

Did you know it's possible to learn stuff outside of school and homework? Here's Theo with the Metrocard train he, er, engineered at the Transit Museum.

Confessions of a Mommy Homework "Helper"

How did a grown-ass woman end up writing a third-grade biography on one of our founding fathers?

It was the third weekend in a row my 8-year-old had to write a biography for homework. And of course, in order to write one, he had to read one first. I pulled the Benjamin Franklin book out of Theo's bag and practically fainted when I saw its thickness. I glanced out the window at the first snow of winter, which had Theo in little-boy ecstasy as soon as he woke up. Sorry, snow, it's gonna be a while before he can play with you.

The book was on Theo's reading level, so I asked him to read it to me. It took 20 minutes to get through the first two chapters, and as I knew we'd never get to the writing portion at that rate, I read him the rest of the book. It took about an hour.

And so we sped through Ben's life. The printing press stuff, the invention stuff, the famous sayings stuff, the Declaration of Independence and Constitution stuff.

When we were finished reading the book, I asked Theo why Ben was important. "I don't know." I asked him what he invented. "A swimming machine." Yeah, buddy, when he was a kid. What did he invent as a grown-up? "A hot-air balloon." I sighed, partly with the understanding that of course those are the things that would interest a little boy, and mostly with frustration that he'd absorbed almost none of what we read in the last 90 minutes and we still had a whole biography to write.

It was very clear who would be writing the thing.

And so we sat at the table and worked on an outline of Franklin's life, and the topics we would cover in each paragraph. Or more accurately, I worked on it, but discussed what I was writing out loud so I could at least feel like we were doing it together.

Off we went, one painful teeth-pulling paragraph at at time. It would go something like this:

What do you think we should say for the introduction?
I don't know.
How about where and when he was born?
Yeah.
So where was he born?
Philadelphia.
No, that's where he lived later. Let's check the book. I open the book to the first page and he skims it, looking for the answer. Impatient, I just point at the answer.
Boston.
Yep. Write it down.

And in paragraph 6:

Why is July 4 important?
We go to Coney Island.
Yes, because it's a holiday. Why is it a holiday?
I don't know.
Because that's when the Declaration of Independence was signed. Do you know what that is?
No.
And so I explain and hope he'll kinda sorta put it in his own words when he repeats my explanation on paper.

The result was a nicely written biography that was no real indication of Theo's skill level. Had I done nothing, the bio would've read "Ben invented a swimming machine. The End."

I squeezed as much as possible out of Theo. Tried to make the homework as authentically from him as I could. But if I'm gonna be honest, I fed him a lot of the words--OK, sentences. And while I tried to check in with him on every piece and make sure he understood what he was writing, I'm sure if you asked him about the Declaration of Independence today, he'd still say he doesn't know.

I don't know what else to do.We highlight important facts as we read them. We discuss what we've read every page or two. But he is simply not good at processing large chunks of info at at time. If we could read one chapter a day and write one paragraph at a time, Theo might actually walk away knowing something about Benjamin Franklin. If Theo can't grasp an entire movie in one sitting, no way is he going to absorb an entire book.

I don't know where Theo's autism fits into this problem except that it accentuates it.

But I bet Theo isn't the only boy who can write 3 pages on Mario Party without help, yet struggles on a subject that isn't interesting to him.

Theo is a gifted creative thinker and writer. His imagination is one of his strongest suits. He'll wake up and decide he's going to write down his dream. He makes up wild stories for Melody every night at bedtime. He randomly sits down and writes plays, complete with roles for his friends and his sister.

It surprises me that reading and absorbing content for school is such a struggle for him. But that's the reality, and it's only going to get harder. I need to figure out how to get through this. I can't go on feeding him answers and pretending he's coming to the conclusions himself because I showed him where to find them in a book. It doesn't do him any favors and I certainly don't have the time.

As a mom of a kid on the autism spectrum, I want my son to be treated like other kids, I want him to advance in school on pace with his peers, and I want him to get assignments on grade level. So how can I then complain when he gets an assignment on grade level, and it's too hard for him? This is a parenting paradox that I deal with every day.

So tell me...how much homework help is appropriate?

 

P.S. Theo did make it to the snow. His insistence on a banana mouth turned out to be a great move.

Executive Chef at 3 and a Half

I tried making post-surgery muffins for Lisandra this morning. Melody watched me struggle taking them out of the tin.

"Why are you spooning them out?"

"Because they're stuck to the pan."

"But mom, did you ever use food spray?"

Man, it amazes me how smart she is and just how much attention she pays to everything (except for TV, when I need her to).

Incidentally, I had used Pam, so I don't know what went wrong! 

I'm not above using this tactic again

Last night, the kids threw pennies all over the floor and were behaving otherwise atrociously. Joe, exasperated, threatened to throw away the Christmas tree if they didn't pick up the pennies.

Later, when the kids were in bed -- Theo was asleep and Melody called Joe in. He walked over to her and she said in a groggy voice,

"Daddy, when I fall asleep, please don't throw away the Christmas tree."

Because Uncle Elliot always buys them awesome PJs

Melody tells Theo about the toys she wants for Christmas.

Theo: You can get other things besides toys, like pajamas.

Melody: I already have pajamas.

Theo (with great enthusiasm): Yeah, but you can get NEW pajamas!

Melody's Secret

Upon seeing me in my new pink bra from Vicky's this morning, Melody yelled, "Mommy! I like your pink boobs!"

He Did It

Here is a compilation of Theo's scenes from his performance in Annie Jr. with Unity Stage Theatre Company this past weekend.



You may recall my nerves when the rehearsal process began. Can he do this? The odds seemed stacked against him. Here was a little boy with autism in a giant space with 27 typical kids who were forming instant friendships and excited about their roles in the play. Theo was eating by himself and not quite getting what he was doing...there was a point when he thought he was playing Annie (because he really wanted to!).

In the beginning, he threw chairs, ripped other kids' homework, hit his castmates. He was so lost and confused that he acted out. If he didn't get a turn in a theatre game, he cried. I asked Sofia, the director, if I could start attending rehearsals with him, and she agreed.

His behavior was so awful at the first rehearsal I saw...I knew in my heart that we had to quit the play. And I cried for three days. But I couldn't bear to call Sofia and tell her. And in case you're wondering, I couldn't bear to blog about it here, either. I talked to Joe about it all week and consulted a couple of message boards, and at the last minute, we decided to give him another shot. Maybe the hour and 45 minute rehearsals were too much for him. What if we just stayed an hour?

So we went back. This time, we had a talk before rehearsal. We went through the list of rules. "Listen, no hitting, wait your turn in games," etc. I acted as a para for him. I did my best to remain in the background, but gave him a gentle push or redirect when he needed it. The next rehearsal, Theo turned a corner. We never did need to leave early. I think that talk we continued to have before rehearsals really helped. Theo does well when prepared for what's about to happen, and when he knows what's expected of him.

As he grew comfortable with the other kids, the adults, and the teenage assistants, his behavior not only improved, he was one of most cooperative kids there. He loved the theatre games so much that he sat focused and participated beautifully. He even became one of the boys. I remember the first time I watched the boys walk over to his table and sit with him. I think I had to cover my wet face with my hair.

When he finally got to rehearse his scenes on stage, he was over the moon. It was clear how much he enjoyed it -- not just peforming, but watching. While the other kids grew restless watching scenes they weren't in, he sat spellbound.

Theo now knows theatre lingo -- scene, rehearse, props, and director, just to name a few, are words he didn't know before.

To say we're proud of him doesn't seem to convey what Joe and I experienced. All the parents were proud of their kids. But when your kid overcomes as much as Theo did to stand on stage, say a few lines and do a few dances with a big smile -- no, pride doesn't even begin to cover it.

Sunday night, we laid in bed talking about Theo's face on stage when he said his lines, finally nailing them. He was beaming. We remembered the quintessential "Hi, mom" wave he gave when he spotted us in the audience. We talked about all the people who came -- so many friends, family members, and even two of his teachers. All the people who love him and are rooting for him. And we cried, because our son inspires us. We hope this story can inspire others.

Sweet Dreams

She just opened her eyes, groggily sang "QRSTUV" and went back to sleep. God, I wish I had the dreams of a 2-year-old.

At a Local Stop and Shop...

Melody said two things that blew my mind today. One was "thank you for dinner," unprompted. The other was "My feet are fucking freezing."

Bring On The Chiffon

In response to the NYT article on the book "Cinderella Ate My Daughter":

I did a college paper comparing the early Disney princesses to the later ones. They made significant strides. Snow White and Aurora (Sleeping Beauty) were both pretty pathetic, so in comparison, Cinderella is pretty badass. The princes were just as vacuous as the princesses as far as I'm concerned. Really, none of the characters were very developed. The villains were evil for no reason beyond basic jealousy. That doesn't make me love those early movies any less--they were beautifully drawn, and the music--wow. I can watch the movies a million times, because they are classic and wonderful and frozen in time.

Fast forward to the Golden Age of Disney, 1989 to late 90s. The heroines were strong-willed, independently-thinking. Pocahontas kicks a whole lot of ass--what a gorgeous film that sadly no one talks about. Beauty and the Beast was nominated for Best Picture. Mulan, Jane in Tarzan, Nala, Jasmine. Not Disney, but princess Anastasia--these are all characters I'll be proud for my daughter to watch.

My wedding dress looked a little like Ariel's. And my daughter and Ariel's daughter share the same name--Melody. So yeah, I never grew out of the princess phase. I grew up with the movies, knew all the songs, memorized the dialogue. But I also killed bugs, climbed trees, played on basketball and soccer teams and wore only boys clothing for two years. The key is to make sure our kids are well-rounded. For the record, my son loves Sleeping Beauty and asked for a SB doll for Xmas. We got one for him.

My neverending quest to get skinny is not at all princess related. It's Hollywood related. :)

When it comes to female role models and body image, I think we have much bigger problems than princesses. Scantily clad pop stars and actresses, models, magazines...you know what I mean.

If anything, emulating princesses helps little girls feel beautiful in those early years. What's wrong with that? They'll have the rest of their lives to hate their nose, their zits, their muffin tops--why not let them enjoy these years of feeling pretty?

I say bring on the chiffon.

Meeting Santa

Santa made an appearance at our dear friend Nannette's Christmas party this weekend!


I loved how my kids were front and center when Santa came out! Theo said to me, "how does Santa know our names?" And I loved Melody running to show Santa her gift after she opened it. "Look, Santa!"

His First Letter to Santa

It's an image I'll always have burned in my memory. Theo in his sweatshirt and teddy bear pajama pants, sitting under the new Christmas tree he helped Joe bring home today...closing his eyes and imagining Christmas morning, so he can figure out what he wants to ask Santa for.

It's because we are in the middle of writing a letter to Santa. We're up to the part where Theo has to say what he wants. He knows the first thing right away--he wants a lower hook to hang his coat on, since all we have is the high hooks up in the closet that are out of his reach. So he asks Santa for a hanger. After that? What else do you want? "Mmmm..I'm not sure."

What kid doesn't have a list a mile long of things he wants? My kid. And so he sat and thought for a while, and each time finally came up with something to put on his list.

While of course I prodded Theo along and kept things going, I tried to keep the letter as organic as possible, based on what he was telling me. This letter is all him.

I loved him looking over the note and correcting handwriting errors, saying things like "Santa won't be able to read that."

I want to always remember this special experience. Thank you, blog.

A Colorful Response

This happened months ago, but I just thought about it and it put a smile on my face.

We were out to dinner with Theo's friend Jasper, whose dad is an artist. Jasper told us that her daddy is a painter.

"My daddy is a painter, too," Theo said, proud and excited. I corrected him and told him no, his dad's a photographer.

"But he painted the wall in the kitchen purple! Remember, it was blue? You forgot?"

(I won't ruin the charm of this story by mentioning how we had to have a professional come in and fix the job.)

Ain't She Delicious...

Yesterday morning Melody had some peanut butter on toast.

When we went outside, I realized she had PB all around her mouth. I giggled and said "Come here and let me clean you up, Peanut Butter Face." I proceeded to wipe her down with a universal solvent (saliva).

We walked down the block, and half a block later, she suddenly broke down, wailing. In her hysterics, she let out a series of unintelligble words.

I told her to calm down and tell me in a nice-girl voice what she was trying to say.

"I don't want to be a peanut butter face," she pouted.

I love that it took her half a block to ponder the label and form an opinion about it.

Glad Someone's Paying Attention...

I was out grabbing pizza with the kids the other night and pulled a fourth chair to the table. Theo was puzzled and pointed out that there were only 3 of us. I was pretty dumbfounded.

Thanks, kid. Never too early to pick out nursing homes for mommy.

Me Too Too

Melody's latest thing--If I respond to her comment with "me too," she says, "me too, too!"

Theo, What Are You?

If there were a lovebug aptitude test, Theo would score off the charts. He has achieved genius level with his ability to say things so sweet it's impossible to think the words are from a 7-year-old boy. An impromptu improvised song about his love for his little sister and her hugs and kisses, for example. His ability to cuddle, protect, and all-around send your heart a pitter-patter are at a level so high, his peers may never catch up.

But my Theo isn't a savant. He doesn't calculate complex numbers in seconds. He still can't add 5+3 without a number line. He can't compose music. After 10 months of piano lessons, he still struggles to plunk out Twinkle Twinkle. And he doesn't have a photographic memory, though his memory does surpass most kids his age, probably.

People who don't know about autism (and I surely would have raised my hand 5 years ago, so no judgment here) think of Rainman. An autistic savant. Someone who is genius but "weird."

But the truth is, obviously, that autism is a huge spectrum. Theo would be called high functioning, but with a below-average IQ (though I've never believed any of the IQ tests. I'm not in denial, I just know he  hasn't been tested properly because he doesn't respond well to that form of testing).

Temple Grandin, an Aspie (aspergers) woman who has basically revolutionized what we know about autism, says there are three types of thinkers:

VISUAL THINKERS 

These children often love art and building blocks, such as Legos. They get easily immersed in projects. Math concepts such as adding and subtracting need to be taught starting with concrete objects the child can touch. Drawing and other art skills should be encouraged. If a child only draws one thing, such as airplanes, encourage him to draw other related objects, such as the airport runways, or the hangers, or cars going to the airport. Broadening emerging skills helps the child to be more flexible in his thinking patterns. Keep in mind that verbal responses can take longer to form, as each request has to be translated from words to pictures before it can be processed, and then the response needs to be translated from pictures into words before it is spoken.

MUSIC AND MATH THINKERS

Patterns instead of pictures dominate the thinking processes of these children. Both music and math is a world of patterns, and children who think this way can have strong associative abilities. They like finding relationships between numbers or musical notes; some children may have savant-type calculation skills or be able to play a piece of music after hearing it just once. Musical talent often emerges without formal instruction. Many of these children can teach themselves if keyboards and other instruments are available.

VERBAL LOGIC THINKERS

These children love lists and numbers. Often they will memorize bus timetables and events in history. Interest areas often include history, geography, weather and sports statistics. Parents and teachers can use these interests and talents as motivation for learning less-interesting parts of academics. Some verbal logic thinkers are whizzes at learning many different foreign languages.

Theo definitely doesn't fit into two and three, so the visual thinker category seems closest -- though not perfect. I wonder if he really does think in pictures. His language is developing rapidly now, and little by little I get a clumsy idea of how his brain works. I am hopeful that he'll eventually find the words to express the machinations in detail, as lots of spectrum teens and adults do to support children in discussion boards, blogs, etc. It's an exciting thought.


By the way, if you haven't seen the movie Temple Grandin, see it immediately.


I'm hearing her speak at a conference tomorrow. She's the keynote at an Autism/Aspergers conference. I don't even pay $100 bucks to see people I like in concert, but the chance to see her speak was too incredible to pass up. I think one day it will be like saying you saw MLK or the like. Particularly exciting is that her mom will be speaking too; she will talk about what it was like to have a daughter with autism in the 50's, when doctors told mothers that they ruined their children by not giving them enough love.


Temple will be speaking about her new book on social skills. Theo's lack finesse, but he sure has the heart. The other day he said, "You know what I'm imagining? I have lots of friends and I keep them forever."


There is still so much more to learn about the pictures in his head. 

Annie, Week Three

When I picked him up at rehearsal, he was calm. This gave me the courage to approach the director and ask how it went. I told her how he's loving the experience, and she said, "Oh yes, the kids are loving..."

I expected her to say "it, too."

Instead, she said, "working with him."

I nearly fell over after what happened last week.

Relief! Happiness! Joy!

Guess there will be good days and not-so-good days. I can live with that.

Why, Whatever Do You Mean, Son?

So the other day Theo comes home to find Joe and me cleaning. He says "Ooh, are we having a party?"

Epic housewife fail.