Change - of Course

It is Friday, so click the link here or the button on my sidebar and head over to DadBlogs to read some wonderful blogs.

Speaking of DadBlogs, I recently (5 minutes ago) read a blog there about whether or not becoming a parent changes your views. It started me thinking rusty machinery that it is. I responded in a decidedly ambiguous manner. But I was changed, forever and markedly by a child. Only he wasn't mine.

While in high school my dad and step mom became foster parents to Joey. He was a tiny thing whose mother was in an institution and father was also institutionalized. Joey was the first foster child in my life. Here I was a high school snot who put herself above most other objects and on a visit to my dad's I meet this little guy. Having nephews & a niece whom I adored, I knew I loved kids. I had been looking forward to a visit with a baby to keep me busy and entertained. But, Joey was different. He was adrift. I adored him.

Over 3 years Joey came and went. He went to his mother when she was well and came back to my dad's when she went crazy. When he was with her my dad and stepmom would babysit and bring her clothes, food, and take her to file for benefits. Because they couldn't just leave Joey. I had conversations on the phone with her, I had seen pictures - she was the mother. She was insane.

Everyone became attached to Joey. He was simply part of our family, my brother. My father would joke that being a foster father is easy "because men become attached after a child is born." Joey was loved.

After these years and many ordeals, that would fill a book. Joey was murdered by his mother. She hung him in the kitchen.

I have no idea what he felt or thought. I imagine that there were angels there to shield and protect him. I hope there were.

This precious little life who would run through the park and say "fick it daddy" every time his radio turned off. The innocent boy who would believe that electronics were sleeping so that we could have some peace with dinner. He was gone. Everyday that fact is with me.

The effects were numerous. My father was changed, there was tragedy and ruin in his eyes. My step-mother threw herself into changing the laws to protect children. The mother was imprisoned and my father went to court to ask for life instead of the death penalty. She was insane. I became an advocate for children. I worked in prevention and education. I made DCF calls on parents and with teens who were abused. I tried to teach parents how to play, care for, and respect their children. Honestly I can't say that I would have made these choices if not for my experience. Life is experience wonderful and terrible and it is the experiences we face that shape who we are and who we become. So, yes - children change us..

Some people call it practical

I call it creative.

Instead of Halloween Youngest celebrated "culture day" at school. An exciting event in which the mother found information suitable for a kindergartner to know, remember, and share child did some research, made a food and dressed in traditional clothing of the location. With a mix of cultures in her blood how was a girl to choose which to represent?

By the clothing of course! We spent time looking at traditional clothes from three cultures and settled on the Ukraine, because their dresses had ribbons, embroidery, and best of all they have princess headbands. Who could ask for anything more?

While looking for the basics of the outfit you didn't honestly think I was going to make the time to sew the skirt and vest did you? we picked-up a pair of scrubs for Boy's costume. He wasn't totally sure what he wanted to be, but he knew it involved fake blood and doctor scrubs. A great start for any haunting outfit.
 

Under the close scrutiny of Youngest and ample use of stitch witchery, her outfit was completed. Thursday she brought in a poster hastily made by mom she colored in herself, and perogies to share. Grandma came to the event, bringing Ukrainian eggs that she was able to pass around. All in all she had a great day.

The next evening we were having a costume dress rehearsal. The temperature being near 90, I thought it unwise to dress Youngest in the dragon costume formerly worn by Boy not to mention the hours I spent working on a perfectly good Ukrainian outfit that needed some more wear. It was time to improvise. We filled Youngest in on the future telling abilities of fortune tellers and turned her into a lovely gypsy. The make-up was a huge selling point on this costume.

Boy took some unsolicited advice and became Dr. Frankenstein. Complete with dirt and blood smeared arms and face. He was even able to cannibalize an old doll to have body parts in his pocket. It was great fun and brought in much candy. Hmmm, speaking of that I better go check the packaging on a few of the snickers bars. Hope your Halloween was scary and your treats were plenty!

Babies or Puppies

For as many hours of my life as the puppies are sucking away from me needing my care, I have restrained myself from saying too much about them. But very, very soon they will be leaving us for their new homes; and I was feeling a bit joyous at the prospect of having some fun money melancholy at their imminent departure. So, I began to ponder as I scrubbed the floor of the puppy pen while trying to hold my nose and keep from gagging. I have some friends for whom a pet fills-in for a young child, either because they are single, their children are grown, or they just prefer it that way. So, what exactly are the differences?

1. Feeding: puppies eat from a bowl on the floor while babies dump their bowls onto the floor.

2. Potty training: puppies go anywhere anytime you clean it up, babies do the same just with a diaper attachment.

3. Attention: puppies whine for it and babies cry for it, but you can shut the door on the puppies.

4.Bathing: babies wiggle and squirm, puppies do the same but with grip-action fur

5. Babysitting: babies overnights can be costly, but no one will volunteer to sit for 11 puppies

6. Cuteness factor: this one is a dead heat.

7. Cuddle factor: while both are cuddly, with a baby you wonder what's in his pants and with a puppy you wonder what's on his paws, nose, head - ok all his body parts.(yuck)

Each baby type has its draw backs and attractions. Maybe if I had 11 babies at once I'd shoot myself in the head I'd feel differently. But though I will be sad to see them go, I will really be ok with them going. Most days I can't say the same about my children

Testing Questions

The State Test. It is a phenomenon that brings out a strong opinion in almost everyone. Should there be a test that measures student performance? What should be the measure? Is it fair? etc etc ad nausea um.

My opinion on testing is fairly simple and straight forward. Yes, there should be tests. It seems pretty obvious to this simple person that when you teach something you need to assess if the students have learned it. (though I am of the firm opinion that a test score is simply a snapshot of a student - not a portrait of progress)

And that brings me to my point. There is a debate here in Sunnyland that teachers are spending too much class time teaching to The Test. Hmm. Let me see if I can get this straight. The "great minds" that make-up the powers-that-be have decided at each grade level there are certain skills and knowledge that each student should learn and exhibit. Ok. Next, teachers are taxed with imparting said knowledge to their students. It is just such knowledge that the curriculum is designed to cover. Sure, makes sense so far... Next teachers design interactive and engaging lessons even at the expense of any sleep to spread said knowledge far and wide. Still with me? They teach, practice, and test these skills. THEN students take state tests that cover the same skills. So, where is the problem?

This is precisely the point at which I always become lost. How can a teacher be accused of teaching to the test when the "great minds" said it is just such material teachers should be covering in the classrooms? Was the teacher supposed to wait until spring to start teaching these skills? What would they rather students learn in LA - weaving? Maybe LA teachers should teach football plays 101 for a few weeks each fall and to hell with the elements of literature or author's purpose. Maybe they should make tests that cover bizarre trivia. Because walking into a test completely unprepared is just exactly how we want children to prepare for the future.

The Joy of Reading

It's Friday, so that means there are many great posts here at Fatherhood Friday on DadBolgs. Click either link for a journey to some great blogs.

When I think of books and fatherhood some images come immediately to mind.

There was the time my dad gave me The Velveteen Rabbit and inside the cover he had even written an inscription. This was as shocking as anything in my almost 5 years of experience. My father actually wrote in a book - for me. In the evenings we would sit in the living room and he would read me that story. A picture book with chapters, very grown-up for a girl who had not even begun her elementary school career.

Much later there were the times the same man would insist I stop reading and spend some time in the sun. Obviously pre skin-cancer worry days. Having nothing against the sun, I would gladly drag my reading materials out to the lake and read there.

The second inscribed book from my father came at my confirmation. It was the Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes, bound in leather with gold-leaf edges. It was a mark of my "growing-up."

These are books I still have today and cherish. I've read all of the Sherlock Holmes stories many times, but they are a comforting friend that can ease me to sleep after a stress-filled day. I have shared the story of a much loved rabbit with my own children, even sharing the picture I drew of my dad after his inscription.

Now, I listen to my husband read to my children. Listening to them laugh along with Dr Seuss and worry about Wilbur's fate are new reminders of the impact a parent and a good story can have on a child.

A Different View

Youngest began kindergarten this year. Now for a child who has spent all but the first 4 months and a few summers in daycare you would think that kindergarten is simply an extension of school. Well you (and I) would be wrong. It began as a place that put fear into her young heart and had her shaking with enthusiasm. To enter the "big kid" school where there is reading and math, tests and homework was her marker that she had in fact made it, to what I am not sure, but she seemed very excited to have done it.


With this excitement in mind we diligently scour her Friday folder each week. She insists on overseeing the entire operation sharing each paper with us, explaining the nuances of the assignment that we are too old and dull to see for ourselves. So it happened that Hubby stumbled upon the first worksheet and was unable to shield the surprise and shock from Youngest. His apparent displeasure, as evidenced to our young 5 year-old by his questioning of the work, sent her into tears of displeasure. He soothed the child and let the matter drop. 


It was a while later before I had a chance to sort through the mountains of paper that come home from school look at her work. I should probably mention that while I am an involved parent, I am not obsessively so. In sorting through papers alone, I am a skimmer. But this paper caught my attention. At first glance something appeared "off." My brain seemed to say, "hey! hold on, look a bit closer." The paper was an innocuous sort of beginning sounds with animals pictures and the word minus the first letter. The student was to write in the first letter and then there was a space beside each word to copy the entire word. Normal kindergarten fare. Except that my daughter had copied each word in its mirror image. 


Yep, we are talking The Shining, REDRUM style backwards. (with each letter being backwards as well) It was truly amazing. When my brain processed what it was I was seeing I actually ran to the mirror to hold the paper up, and sure enough in kindergarten scrawl there were the words clear as day. When asked about the paper, Youngest glumly replied, "I know, I did it wrong." And yes, technically she was right. But, how amazing it seems to me; that mirror-style backwards is even a option to her brain. Of course I won't be taking her to any secluded winter retreats.

Complaints and Other Usless Things

I have a confession to make. There are afternoons that I leave my job in an absolutely foul mood. The massive cuts placed on our budgets combined with the increased needs of the students due to economic stressors and massive flu absences have created additional strain on everyone. For the large part, I avoid the "moan areas." There is no pay-off to complaining about conditions, so unless you are looking for a solution I will only nod politely and move along. Thankfully, I have a great team and together we try to find solutions that will work for us. Ways to share the load and people in whom we can confide without fear of complaints turning into a moan-fest. 

But yesterday was incredibly busy. With one demand after another falling on our shoulders. So, it was in this weakened condition I found myself driving home. I was irritated and frustrated. Wanting badly to vent, I reached for my cell. Unintentionally I was on the verge of dumping all my woes upon the shoulders of a friend. Whomever I chose to call at this moment would not be solution-focused. Sure she would listen and sympathize, but she would be left feeling bad for me without that being my intention at all. I dropped the phone, call unmade. 

I replayed the day in my head and added all the items I could not complete and would move to the next day. I considered how I would help a new student who absolutely refuses to pick up any sort of writing or reading device. How I can possibly keep students current with week long absences due to flu. How I can stay effective and energetic. In other words, I was wallowing. 

Driving along fuming at myself for not knowing all the answers and preparing myself to face the chaos at home, I happened to look into an opening in the trees. Here there was a shaded area housing a field of wild flowers. Just that glimpse and my shoulders released, my stress began to abate. It is truly a wonderful world and the beauty is all around us. I just needed to look around.

ps: There are several such areas and today I made sure to look at each on the way to and from work. ahhh - nature's release.