This is the first year since I've kept this blog that I have not participated in 31 for 21 (blogging for 31 days in honor of Down syndrome awareness/October as Down syndrome Awareness month).
I am not happy about this. I miss this blog. I miss reflecting on this crazy life. It's not that I'm NOT reflecting, I just don't have the same kind of time to compose my thoughts on said crazy life.
As I always do, I will blame them.
They are so helpful while raking leaves, said no parent of preschool twins EVER.
Fall is in full swing. Our neighborhood is awash in orange twinkly lights and porches are bedecked with pumpkins, hay and mums. There also seems to be a proliferation of zombie decorations this year (or as the twins call them, "b'zombies," to which I echo, "pastrami?"). Don't ask--this is what happens when you spend WAY too much time with two three year olds.
We are almost two months into school (what?) and this week was parent teacher conferences.
I met with Leo's teacher first. It was...ok. He's doing FINE. Math is still his biggest struggle and I'm trying to figure out if it has to be this hard. I mean, I'm not looking for some kind of miracle but I have to wonder if part of it is the way it's being taught. We discussed my interest in him using a more visual math program. I brought up (TouchMath) a program I'd heard good things about and was met with blank looks. I will continue to pursue this. One lightbulb moment though: I don't have to help Leo with his homework. In fact, according to his teacher I shouldn't be doing so. I can't tell you how huge this is. Up until this point I've been sitting with him, dictating some words when he asks, helping him form sentences. The teacher's response: Stop it. He can do it himself and SHOULD be. And guess what? She was right. Of course Leo is not happy about this new development but he'll get used to it.
Our annual visit to...the apple farm parking lot. Ha ha kidding. We did go apple picking, it was just so hectic that I forgot to ask Erin to take a picture until we were about to pack it up go home. Be assured it was scenic!
I can't go into too much detail here but I will say that I am getting VERY NERVOUS about the upcoming transition to middle school. Preparations are already beginning. We are touring a prospective school on Monday and another the following week. This is a time I've been dreading for years, leaving the safe, familiar comfort of his sweet elementary school. The rumor has always been, as one of my dear fellow "special needs" moms puts it, that middle school is "where it all falls apart." Let's hope (OBVIOUSLY) that's not the case. Stay tuned.
Ellie is really into Halloween. Talking about Halloween. Drawing Halloween (seen here: haunted house).
Ellie's conference felt decidedly lighter. When I walked into the room, the teacher welcomed me to a little table and announced that "this is a conference I've been looking forward to."
Swoon.
Of course I teared up. I almost always do at conferences. Yes, Ellie is doing well and fine academically. She's reading at grade level. Math-wise, she's right where she should be. But what her teacher remarked on is Ellie's sensitivity and helpfulness, her compassion and innate ability to recognize when other children need assistance. She detailed how Ellie will help another child, but do it in such a way that she's not drawing attention to herself or seeking out commendation, nor does she in any way make the child feel inferior because they need extra help.
Hmm. Wonder where this comes from? Could it be, that all those articles and studies about the benefits of growing up with a sibling with special needs might actually be true?
Another small example: Ellie's teacher told me that the other day she asked Ellie to bring something to the office and told Ellie she could choose a "buddy" to accompany her. All arms went up in the air. Rather than choose one of her little friends, Ellie, by her own volition, picked a child that is one of the most troublesome, who requires a lot of attention (for behavior). And Ellie's teacher thought that was a pretty impressive choice.
Last night Ellie was asking me about middle school (she listens to everything I say. When will I actually digest this?). "Will Leo and I go to the same middle school?" She asked. I told her no, that it wouldn't work out because of the age difference, but then I did the math and realized they could potentially be in the same high school (OMG. HIGH SCHOOL?).
"But we wouldn't be in the same class, right?"
I said no, not the same class. And then I paused and asked her why she thought that was. I wanted to know if she was going to say something about special needs (she does know the term and she does know about Leo's Down syndrome).
"We won't be in the same class because they don't allow brothers and sisters to be in the same class," Ellie announced with certainty and pride and just a tinge of irritation for my not knowing this.
Swoon again.
So there you go. And maybe this is my accidental "31 for 21 post."
