The Penny

My Girl

2011-12-06T18:16:00.001-05:00

I went to visit Morgan Thanksgiving weekend. A few days after I returned home, I opened my camera app to find about two dozen pictures of Morgie! I am attaching a few of her stunning self portraits.

Being Happy Now

2011-11-06T14:02:00.000-05:00

Today's Relief Society lesson was on President Uchtdorf's forget-me-not talk. One of the things that was discussed was the importance of being happy now. I thought back about seven years, when I learned that lesson. I cried as I shared what I learned with Laynie--one of those interpreter sidebars. ;)

For four years, I was a nanny for the best child on earth: Morgan. For the last year, I also took care of the sweetest, easiest baby: Carson. I loved them dearly. (Still do.) However, I was getting rather burned out. Young mothers know this feeling. Breaking up fights, teaching kindness, settings limits--raising kids really takes it out of you. The days seem to drag, one turning into the next in a blur of hungry tummies and poopy bottoms.

I worked all day, and I hid down in my little apartment in the evenings. Spending your days with a four-year-old and a one-year-old can be exhausting.

And then I went back to school to finish my education.

Going back to school was the right decision, but it turned out to be more difficult than I expected. That first semester, I cried so often for the children I had left behind. Two thousand miles away! I remember sitting in the temple one time, just sobbing. I was really missing "my" children that day. Sometimes it seemed physically painful to be apart from them. I realized that I had made a huge mistake.

When Morgan would want to be with me in the evening, her parents would tell her, no, Annie needs to rest. When Carson would try to get through the gate to come downstairs, his parents would stop him. I appreciated their thoughtfulness.

I realized that I had not made the most of my time with the children. Walking around the BYU campus, sitting in class, or in my room at my mother's house, Morgan was often on my mind. I would have given anything to have an hour with her.

I had gone back to school in January, and I went back in April to take care of Morgan and Carson again. I stayed for the summer and enjoyed my time there so much. And me tell you, I made the most of the time with them. When Morgan's parents began to tell her no, it is Annie's rest time, I would tell them to let her come to me. I allowed the kids unrestricted access to me.

That summer was one of the best times in my life. I had learned the secret of happiness: enjoy was you have. Enjoy the people and places for what they are. Do not spend your time thinking about tomorrow or wishing things were different.

Nothing had changed about the children. The tummies were just as hungry, the bottoms were just as poopy, and the fights were just as frequent. But somehow the days did not seem so long. Or I enjoyed their length. Despite the challenges, I enjoyed every day.

And that is how I learned to be happy now.

Slow But Steady

2011-10-28T16:09:00.001-04:00

I hope she'll win the race!

Laynie continues to make very slow but steady progress with her listening skills. Apparently she rocked the difficult word list she has been working on for the last 4-5 weeks in therapy; she got every word correctly on the first try. Wow!

Even bigger wow, upon arriving on the first floor of the tower building and leaving the elevator, she wondered, "Was the last word that elevator said 'lobby'?" That elevator says which floor you are on, and on the first floor, it says, "This is the first floor and main lobby."

Great Sabbath Morning!

2011-10-09T16:09:00.002-04:00

I had a fantastic time at church today. My dear friend, Cindy, came to see Laynie speak and me sing (as part of an octet... not a solo), and it was so fun having her there.

And Laynie did an A-M-A-Z-I-N-G job with her talk. Her topic was faith, hope, and charity; she ended up focusing mostly on hope. Truly wonderful.

She Understood!

2011-09-28T16:41:00.001-04:00

On Sunday, my home teacher was here. We talked for a long time, and then he was ready to share the message. He asked if Laynie would like to come downstairs and hear it. She was upstairs working on her talk, which she will give the week after General Conference. I said that I thought Laynie would love that.

I yelled, "Laynie!"

Nothing. But I knew that she was still, listening.

I yelled again, "Laynie!"

She called back, "What?"

I said, "Come down!"

She came downstairs.

I figured that she had just understood from context that I must want to see her, so she should come downstairs. But I was wrong! After the bishop left, I told Laynie I was impressed that she had heard her name, that she knew I wasn't just talking to the bishop. She said, "Yeah, I heard you say, 'Laynie, come down.'"

I said yes, but you could have gotten that from context. She replied that I could have said, "I'm finished," or "He's gone." Good point. But she knew the exact words that I had said. She said she just heard it. What a good listener.

They're Worth It

2011-09-28T16:28:00.002-04:00

Sometimes the days feel so long. Kids to see, notes to write, meetings to attend, emails to read, parents to pacify... It's impossible to get it all done. Today I had a meeting and was late seeing all my Head Start students. I went to the first center and found that my kids were doing fine. Except for one--the teacher wanted to tell me her concerns about him. Darn, I thought he was going to be an easy one.

I ran home to grab a quick lunch (nice that both Head Start centers are about 5 minutes from my home) and did not want to go back out. Of course, I had to. I went to the other Head Start center.

Went to the first class. My boy was doing great! Needed some help to use words not his hands to solve problems.. but he's three. And learning English: he speaks another language at home. I went to the other classroom to see my twins.

I had worked with them last year, when they weren't really talking or forming relationships with people. They used to sit together, stoney expressions on their little faces. It was like pulling teeth to get them to play with other kids, and they used to torture the special educator by refusing to look at her or talk to her.

Today they jumped up, waving and begging me to sit with them. One of them ran over to hug me. She was stuck to me like glue the whole time I was there--holding my hand, wanting to hold both of my hands. When we sat down to pop bubble wrap (preschool rocks), she leaned in, trying to get my to put my arm around her.

The twins and I chatted together while we popped our bubbles. They were using complete sentences, asking questions, making comments, and generally behaving like typical four-year-olds. We danced together during music time, making a big circle with the other girls who wanted to partake of our awesomeness.

The class went outside to play. I wrote my notes to the twins' mom, letting her know how they did today. I walked by the playground to leave, yelling goodbye to the twins. The one ran to me full barrel and hugged my legs so that I couldn't walk. She looked at me and pleaded, "Don't go! Don't go!"

We all know the pay is crappy; I'm on a teacher's salary. But the real pay is in love. Awww....

Bad Blogger

2011-09-27T21:07:00.000-04:00

Yes, yes, I'm a very bad blogger. Well, I've been busy.

I'm looking forward to General Conference. So, so much. Which reminds me, I need to upgrade my Fios package to include BYU TV...

Ugh, it's going to cost $10/mo for a while, then $20/mo. I already pay so much for Verizon. I'll have to think about it. Conference is online with ASL interpretation or in the stake center with closed captions. Laynie likes closed captions better... would be nice to have it at home. I'm sure we could go to someone's house, but ours is best. Besides, I'm not sure everyone likes to watch all the sessions, like I do. Saturday Conference is the best!

Work is good. I feel like I'm always catching up, but I love all my kids.

Church is GREAT. Have I said that I love my ward?

I guess I don't have much to say. That's probably why I haven't blogged.

Did I Mention That I Love My Ward?

2011-09-16T22:43:00.002-04:00

I love my ward! Tonight was ward temple night, and I really enjoyed seeing people that I know. Laynie and I sat with our cute little RS Pres (Hi Cari!), and she signed with Laynie. Yes, the ward is learning to sign. It's so neat when several people say hi to Laynie and sign some basics with her.

One sister came up to Laynie after the session and started signing.... and she hasn't even gone to the class Laynie began two weeks ago! I wonder how she learned. How brave of her to come up and start signing when she doesn't know very much.

Now I look forward to going to church instead of [I hate to admit] kind of dreading it.

Obligatory 9/11 Post

2011-09-11T17:39:00.003-04:00

Everyone asks, "Where were you?" So I'll tell mine.

I was in bed, asleep. I was living in New York, working two jobs, as a retail junior manager and a nanny. On September 11, 2001, I had the day off from both jobs.

I was planning to head in to Manhattan that day, but I ended up sleeping in. I'm glad I didn't go there! I wouldn't have been hurt, because I would have been in midtown.. But I would have been stuck on the island. They closed the bridges and tunnels, I think for a few days.

So I was peacefully sleeping when my cell phone rang. It was my mom, panicking a little and relieved to have reached me. Apparently phone circuits were full; cellular networks were overloaded. Mom told me to turn on the TV. So I watched it all unfold on TV, just like everyone else did.

By the time my mom called me, both towers had already been struck. Of course, the news replayed the impact on the second tower repeatedly. Then the towers fell, one after the other. What was happening in DC seemed minor compared with that. It was freaky that things were happening in more than one place, and I wondered, along with everyone else, where would be next.

People in New York were concerned about other parts of the state. Large malls. Tourist spots.

There were several planes unaccounted for or not responding to the tower. That made everyone nervous for a while.

So that's it. My "where were you?" memory.

Great Friends Are Great

2011-08-26T18:44:00.003-04:00

Cindy and Cari, I love you girls!

And of course Laynie and Kate. :)

Earthquake, Curriculum, and Chinese, Oh My!

2011-08-23T18:47:00.002-04:00

We had an earthquake in Maryland! The epicenter was in Virginia, but we certainly felt it up here. I was in a large meeting room, and it felt like I had vertigo... just swaying and moving around. It was a trippy feeling, made me wonder if something was wrong with me. But everyone else was feeling it!

The teachers in my county (probably whole state) are FREAKING OUT. New curriculum! Aaaagh! I am loving it, because the new curriculum is much better than the current one--it's language based. All about thinking and reasoning.

And I might be learning Chinese this fall! My elementary school is participating in a pilot program with immersion world languages instruction. All of the students (yes, even my deaf darlings) will have an hour each week of Chinese in the fall and Spanish in the spring. I may decide to go in with them. Certainly at the beginning of the school year I will, to help them understand the concept of language. I'm afraid they'll think it's just more speaking that they don't understand. Chinese, English, it's all Greek to them.

Three Musketeers

2011-08-21T21:30:00.003-04:00

We are planning to hang pictures in a variety of black and gold frames to adorn the very large wall above the fireplace, so we have been choosing pictures. This is one that we're going to use, which I think Bryndi took. (Hi Bryndi!)

It is so us.

We haven't played Guitar Hero together is sooo long, but we still do nerdy things together. For example, today we played Rummikub while watching Kung Fu Panda. We're very homey and familyish.

Katie is funny, because she generally refers to Laynie as her sister. She'll say to her friend, "I went there with my sisters," or "My sisters would love that," meaning Laynie and me. It's very sweet. I'm glad we all get along.

Good Listener!

2011-08-16T15:46:00.002-04:00

Laynie has been spending a lot of time upstairs at the desktop computer, working on a project. We email each other if we need to say something, so that we don't have to run up and down the stairs all the time (I hang out downstairs).

The visual email notification isn't working right now (dumb OSX Lion), but it still pings when a message is received. I can't believe that Laynie hears that ping every time! I asked her whether she was keeping the mail program on top of everything else, and she said no, she just listens for the ping.

Even if I'm watching TV downstairs, which is very audible upstairs since Laynie's in a loft room that is open to the living room, she hears that ping!

Just now I turned down the volume on the TV a little to hear a video on the internet, and I got a message from Laynie right away. She was asking what that noise was, whether someone was yelling or if I was on the phone. She's such a good listener!

Last Quiet Week

2011-08-15T08:19:00.003-04:00

I can't believe I'll be back to work full time again next week! Next week will be a blur of meetings, trainings, and set up; the kids start back the week after. I am looking forward to seeing my kids again and meeting some new ones.

Wicked Awesome Pictures!

2011-08-11T17:47:00.005-04:00

Laynie, Katie, and I went to a sign interpreted performance of Wicked a few week ago at the Kennedy Center. It was such a fun night. We got there early, so we went up to the terrace for pictures!

Me and Kate

Laynie!

No, those are not long earrings... They're Laynie's 'plants! She changed her cochlear implant processor batteries before the show.

Look, she's so happy to hear! (Or she nearly dropped her left 'plant and barely caught it.)

You can see the Lincoln Memorial on the right and the Jefferson with the dome.

Yay! Almost time! Check out the interpreter--on the left. She was a fantastic actress!

The Wasps

2011-08-11T17:41:00.005-04:00

I'm finally getting around the posting pictures of the unwelcome guests on my old balcony.

Big nest!

My poor finger was swelling up. I tried a baking soda paste, which helped. That was after the initial half hour of stabbing pain. Wasps mean business!

New Friend and Family History

2011-08-09T22:24:00.003-04:00

After a Relief Society activity focusing on family history, I spoke with the woman teaching the class, Mary. She offered to work with me one on one to help me find my ancestors--who seem like they don't want to be found. Challenging. Well, I went to her house yesterday at noon... and didn't leave until 5:30! We chatted, worked on genealogy, and then chatted some more.

And I have already made some progress with my family history and am so excited to get more done.

Benefit? YES!

2011-08-07T16:38:00.004-04:00

On Friday I went with Laynie to interpret for her rehab appointment, where a rep from Laynie cochlear implant company, Med-El, would be present. The woman showed up early, and they were chatting in the waiting room. One thing she asked Laynie was, "Do you think you benefit from having cochlear implants?"

Benefit? How do you quantify that. Laynie was surprised by the question and not able to answer it fully. The simple answer is YES. But how to explain why? It's especially tough when she's really not understanding much spoken language yet. (yet)

For someone who is hearing and becomes deaf, gets an implant, and understands when people talk, I think a CI would be such a relief. The benefit would be clear. Similarly, a young child implanted and learning to hear and speak, as many implanted kids do, would clearly benefit. But for someone in Laynie's situation, the benefit is less externally apparent. She shared an anecdote about understanding her mother say, "I love you," which made an impact, as well as a few small examples of ways that hearing aids and cochlear implants have been different for her.

At dinner later, we were talking about it, trying to think back on life before implants. After two years with them, it sort of feels like she's always been this way.

I was telling Laynie that I have a very clear memory of an instance when we were standing in a busy area on the BYU campus between classes. I had asked Laynie what she heard, as she happened to be wearing her hearing aid that that day. She said that she heard noise. I asked her to describe it. All she could say was that it was noise, that it was all one sound blended together, at a constant volume. People talking, construction nearby, cars passing... all one sound.

The other day we were in a restaurant, and she asked if there were kids around. I told her which direction, and she nodded knowingly. Later she asked if a table was being cleared nearby. She had heard the clatter of dishes. Not only is she distinguishing the sounds, she's identifying what they are. She can identify laughter in another room. Jazz music, which she hates. A piano amidst the din of a department store. A car vs. jetliner vs. prop plane vs. truck vs. motorcycle going by. Thunder. A baby vs. a toddler screaming during sacrament meeting.

In the kitchen today, Laynie's back was toward me. The microwave was in use, the fan over the stove was on, and food was sizzling in a pan. I don't remember what her attention was on... throwing away trash or something. I said her name at a conversational level and she turned to me.

With hearing aids, Laynie could hear some things, but she could only identify a few. Whistling. A drum. A piano, if she knew it was music and focused on it. But she couldn't tell a voice from a car going by. Not that she couldn't hear the voice. Everything just sounded pretty much the same.

Laynie is hearing quieter things. Today she heard distant thunder from inside the house. She hears all the speech sounds, including very quiet ones like H and TH. Today I whispered quietly from three or four feet away, just to see if she heard me... she did. With her hearing aids there was a whole slew of sounds she didn't hear at all.

Obviously hearing and understanding are two different things. Two different levels of the same thing. Hearing is the bottom rung of the ladder, and understanding is the top. Laynie understands some things when listening purposefully in therapy. But she also understands things occasionally outside of therapy. Just simple things like asking a question and not looking as the answer is given, listening for the yes or no.

Yesterday she was sitting next to me on the couch, telling me something--showing me something on the computer. I don't remember exactly. But I remember that I asked, "Where?" She told me what it was again. I said, "I know, but where?" She said, "Right here," and showed me. I didn't sign it, and she wasn't looking at me. She heard and understood. I asked her if she knew what I said, and she answered, "Where." She didn't realize that I didn't sign it until I told her.

Things like that happen every day. Just the fact that she uses her CIs every day, all day long, is testament to the benefit she receives. She likes them. They help her feel connected to the world around her.

Like many children with CIs, she's beginning to prefer sound over sight for some things. Sometimes sound is easier.

She was saying that she wanted to get a doorbell, because some people knock quietly, which is hard to hear (even for me, and I'm "very hearing" as she says) from the kitchen. We discussed getting a flashing light doorbell, which she's had before. We realized that she hasn't used one in two years! With her CIs, she doesn't need one. She hears a knock just like everybody else. She thought that she would prefer a doorbell that chimes rather than flashes. A flashing light can be easy to miss in the daytime, if you're not looking in that direction. But she could hear a chime from wherever she is, whatever she's doing. So she'll be getting a doorbell that chimes... and she found one that has a portable receiver with a blinking light.

That doorbell will be a perfect fit for a girl who's straddling two worlds. She's Deaf yet very much a person who hears.

Off the Juice

2011-08-01T17:44:00.004-04:00

I am so glad to be off Benadryl!

I was sleeping way too much, and I was miserable and cranky when I wasn't sleeping. Or maybe I was miserable and cranky because I was ready to tear my hand off to stop the itching and burning.

I'm doing much better now. The itching had increased and decreased since I stopped icing and began massaging, but it generally decreased. Today it's not bad at all. The allergy junk seems to be stuck in the base of my finger, because that's where it's stiff and itchy now.. but nothing like Friday and Saturday! I'm definitely counting my blessings. I got a blessing yesterday evening, which didn't end up really addressing the wasp allergy problem but did address others on my mind. Love that!

So here's something funny: I'm wearing makeup again. I gave up on it for several years, because it just seemed to accentuate my acne... But now that my face has mostly cleared up, I'm into it again. I'm obsessed with eye makeup. Laynie thinks I've gone mental.

And.... get ready for it... Wasps have built a nest above the front door to my new home!

Sweet Relief

2011-07-30T19:02:00.004-04:00

My hand was not a bit better today, and I was really suffering. My middle finger, part of my ring finger, part of my palm, and part of the back of my hand were hot, stiff, swollen, and itchy. So itchy! After taking Benadryl for more than 24 hours without a change (although being knocked out for a few hours after each dosage was a nice break from the agony), I was frustrated.

Topical creams and sprays did absolutely nothing for me. I found that icing it took away the itching and burning, so I would keep an ice pack on for 20 minutes, then off for 20 minutes. That's how I got through yesterday and this morning. But the swelling was getting worse. I could hardly move my finger. I thought ice was supposed to bring down swelling! It didn't make sense. My finger was hot, with pink streaks up the sides and onto my hand. This morning the itching spread to the knuckle above the sting.

When I got up at 2:00 pm from a three-hour, Benadryl/gabapentin-induced nap, I decided to take a shower. The water beating down on my hand while I washed my hair felt like fiery needles. I didn't know how I could take this for another two days. I was thinking that I couldn't go to church if I had to ice it every 20 minutes. And Monday... I have to test a child for several hours Monday morning. How on earth would I get through that? I couldn't like this. I couldn't go anywhere or do anything.

I prayed.

I read my scriptures, and I had an idea. It wasn't anything that I read, per se, it was just a thought that came while reading.

Massage.

That sounded crazy to me, because I knew that scratching or messing with an itchy spot made it worse. Aren't we advised not to touch mosquito bites? Then I understood that the histamine and dead cell innards and fluid were just hanging out in the finger, that they needed help to leave it. I needed to massage my hand to get things moving.

So I tried it. The itching got much worse! It was just burning now. It got worse for an hour... but then it got a little better. The skin of my finger seemed looser. Now the itching was horrible on the back of my hand, and there was a line of itching up my arm. I went on faith and kept massaging my hand. For the next two hours, it was about like it had been for two days. Then, in the last hour, it dropped off considerably. After four hours of massaging while cleaning, unpacking, cooking, etc., I stopped. The itching was not gone, but it was a million times better.

Now it is five hours since I began massaging my hand. I am occasionally massaging and applying deep pressure, especially to the hot area between my knuckles, and it has not gotten worse. I'd say that the itching is about a 4 on a scale of 0-10. Wow.

I am so grateful that Heavenly Father hears our prayers!

Wasps 1, Annie 0

2011-07-29T05:13:00.007-04:00

On Wednesday, Laynie and I went to our old apartment to clean it and get the last of the stuff out.

About three hours in, I remembered the balcony chairs. They are the zero gravity kind--just cheapish ones from Target. I went out to fold them up and bring them down to the U-Haul van I had rented for the mega Goodwill trip that was sorely needed. I tried to fold one up and it was stuck. I realized that I had to release the latches under the arms. After doing that, it folded easily. I went straight for the latches on the second, grabbing both chair arms at the same time... and touched bodies. fluttering wings. Filament legs.

Things are kind of blurry after that. I think I was processing with the right side of my brain, because I can remember snapshots of what happened. I backed up quickly; the wasps swarmed the balcony. A few chased me. One caught me.

Right as I got to the door, a felt the stab into the knuckle of my right middle finger. I couldn't believe that I had been stung and how much it hurt.

I went in and stuck my hand under cold water. I was shocked. The wasp attack was unexpected and had happened so fast. I was shaking hard, the pain was really hitting now. It got worse and worse. I needed to think. I had no idea what to do. All I knew was that my mom was highly allergic to wasps, and I was scared that I might be allergic, too. I didn't want to have an anaphylactic reaction, because I didn't want to go to the ER. That was because a. I didn't want to pay to return the U-Haul van late, and b. I wanted to finish the apartment that day. And I didn't want to waste time and exhaust my body's already limited resources.

So I knew what I didn't want to do: go to the ER. But I didn't know what I ought to do. I couldn't think straight. My hand was shaking hard, and I didn't know if that was from a reaction or because I was scared and the adrenaline was flowing. I checked my other hand. Also shaking. I assumed that it was just because I was freaking out; I was relieved. I was still scared but felt calmer.

The pain kept increasing. I would give it about an 8, almost 9, on the pain scale. And I am talking about PAIN, not itching. It was nothing like a bee sting or bug bite. It swelled up horribly; the skin on my finger looked like it was about to burst.

Some snapshots my brain took from the next 45 minutes:

Icing my hand with a bag of shrimp. The only things left in the freezer were the shrimp, some tilapia, and a tub of strawberries. I found this mildly hilarious.

Texting Katie, who suggested a baking soda and water. Oh boy, if only the baking supplies weren't already at the new house. Wait! The refrigerator contained exactly one thing: a box of baking soda.

Feeling stabs of pain on my left knee. Come to find out I had a red, DC-shaped bruise forming right on my kneecap. No idea what happened.

I called the office to have someone get rid of the wasps. After an hour or two, the pain subsided. It turned into an ache with occasional stabs of pain. While waiting for maintenance to come, Laynie took pictures of me (will post when downloaded), and we studied the wasp-nest chair. I laid on the carpet near the sliding glass door, watching the wasps crawling around under the chair arm and flying to and from the nest. At one point, I counted 11 bodies on the arm, plus whatever was out and about.

A maintenance man from the apartment complex came out with an amazing, quick-acting, foam spray. It seemed to kill on contact. He took out 8 or 9 wasps, knocked the chair on its side, sprayed the nest thoroughly, and said to give it a few minutes before spraying it with a hose (which I didn't have). He said that the wasps that were away from the next would come back for the next few minutes but would quickly vacate the area, because they hate the poison. With that, he left. Dead wasps littered the porch. Later I found out (thanks, Google) that dead wasps emit an attack signal.

Four hunting wasps came and went... mostly came. There was at least one there nearly always. Laynie tried to get the chairs, but every time she went out onto the porch, a wasp would show up. They kept heading for Laynie, and she kept heading for the door. We gave up and went on a Goodwill run then returned the van.

As the afternoon wore on, the wasps did not give up. When I noticed one favoring the arm of the other chair, I had had enough. Wielding oven cleaner, I drove away the wasps and got the chairs down to the garage. The nest was huge! Six or seven inches long, three inches across, and an inch or so thick. Full of babies.

The ache in my finger continued yesterday, accompanied by itching. It felt like I had mosquito bites all over my finger and up the back of my hand. Alternating hydrocortisone cream and baking soda paste, it was manageable. Late in the evening, the itching began to increase. My middle finger was much warmer than the rest of my hand. It was very uncomfortable, so I took a Claritin. I didn't have any Bendryl.

I went to bed, but sleep was not to be mine. I lay awake until 2:30, mainly because I couldn't shut off my brain. Just thoughts, not worries. I was exhausted but couldn't sleep. My hand was itching, though not severely. I finally nodded off...

...but woke up at 4:00 because my hand was on fire. And I was generally hot. I went downstairs to check the thermostat, which was set a little too high by one of my roommates. I sprayed Benadryl spray on my hand and tried to go back to bed.

The itching intensity rapidly increased to "tear off my hand." I gave up and went back downstairs at 4:45.

I had a very difficult morning. I worked on this blog post, which was difficult one handed on an iPad. I was exhausted and my hand felt like burning needles were stabbing me. It was swelling up again. I got some relief from an oatmeal paste, but even that stopped working after a while. A little after 9:00, Laynie and I went to Giant to get Benadryl and and few groceries.

I got back and took the two Benadryl. I typically have an opposite reaction to Benadryl and Dimetapp: they make me wired, jittery. Not today! After an hour, I felt like I would pass out. I checked drug interactions online and found that Benadryl and another medicine I'm on, gabapentin, have a synergistic effect--they increase each other. It warned that someone should monitor the patient for CNS suppression, stopping breathing, etc. Uh oh. Katie was at work and Laynie was getting ready to go to a rehab appointment.

I'm not sure what time I passed out, but I woke up at 2:00 pm. I was still tired, but unfortunately my hand was on fire. My finger was quite swollen.

It hasn't been an easy afternoon since then. Ice... baking soda... Oatmeal... More ice... Stinging, itching, and burning.

I took one Benadryl at 3:30. It's almost 6:00, and I'm having difficulty staying awake. I have that weird feeling in my chest. Just not a happy camper. But I want to stay awake until at least 8:00, if possible.

Dr. Google says that I'm having a local allergic reaction. It will probably last five days. Three more days of this? Heaven help me...

Listening Girl

2011-07-25T08:29:00.003-04:00

I went to Laynie's rehab session on Friday. Of course, she continues to make progress and is doing great.

Laynie started a new word/sound list from the WASP program. That program introduces the listener to every sound in the English language, as well as various syllable shapes, like vowel-consonant (of, in) and consonant-vowel (my, be).

I couldn't help comparing how she did with these new words/sounds with how she did the first time with the first WASP list. For one thing, she is much quicker. I think she spent half an hour on the first five words of the first list. On Friday, she got through 10 words in about 10 minutes. And they were much harder words. I was impressed. All of this is through listening only, with the teacher's mouth covered.

Her comprehension has really improved, too. On the first visit, she often said the words perfectly (after many attempts) but had no idea what she said. "Me, me, me, me, hmmm..." Now she knows what she is saying. And these are new words!

So that was cool.

Then they got into the meat of the session: listening to sentences. The teacher says a short sentence, and once Laynie gets all of the words in the sentence, the teacher expands the sentence. Laynie has to listen to where the expansions occur: sometimes adding to the end of the sentence, sometimes inserting words in the middle of the sentences. Sometimes a word from the original sentence is changed.

Obviously this is pretty hard, because Laynie has no idea what the sentences might be. It's not like she has a list of choices. She just has a blank sheet of paper in front of her.

She did such a great job! The teacher says the sentence until Laynie makes a guess at one of the words. Sometimes she just gets a word right. Often she is close, like guessing watch for walk or your for are. It's so neat that she can do that just from listening.

I am so proud of Laynie! And glad that she has weekly rehab sessions for the next few weeks. Imagine: she's doing this well after only having two or three sessions in the last two months, because of vacations and whatnot. She's going to do great when she's focused on listening more often.

This Life Is the Test

2011-07-17T15:21:00.004-04:00

I started thinking today during church... Why is this happening to me? What am I supposed to learn from it?

I have this hope that when I learn whatever it is that I'm supposed to learn, this trial will be over. So far, I am learning that I need to take things slower. I need to have faith that I'll be able to earn enough money to support myself even if I don't put in crazy hours. That's hard! I don't have anyone to fall back on if I can't support myself.

Maybe I need to learn what it feels like to have a disability, since I work with people who have disabilities.

Maybe I need to learn that slow doesn't mean lazy or stupid.

I need to think about this more.

Maybe the learning will come after the trial is over. I remember when I moved into an apartment with bed bugs, that it was such a nightmare. Months of the nightmare, and then months of healing from the psychological damage. Seriously, psychological damage! Well, after the bed bugs were gone, really gone, the feeling of relief was indescribably delicious. My home felt clean, and I appreciated that feeling. That was two years ago, and I still stop sometimes and realize how lovely it is to live unterrorized by those horrible creatures.

Maybe after I'm well, I will appreciate the strength I have. It's been long enough now since I was strong, that I miss it. I remember being able to run and lift things and go go go all day. When I stop and think about it, I realize how much I've lost. Hopefully not forever.

The funny thing about trials, and about earth life in general, is that you don't know how long things will last. If I knew that I would have another month of this or another year, I would say that I can do it. I would be able to plan. Just knowing that a trial will end is somehow heartening. But of course we don't know when our trials will end, and we don't know how bad they will get.

Normally I'm a bit of a planner, but I can't do that now. I just don't know what the next day or week or month will bring. I'm taking it hour by hour. If I have energy for a morning, I'm happy. If I have energy for a full day... well, that doesn't happen. But I think I would appreciate it. Maybe that's what I am learning.

I joked to a friend a few weeks ago that I hoped to get A's on my [medical] tests. But there's a bigger test, isn't there? I wonder how this problem will help me gain the knowledge and skills I need to pass that test.

Cool Kids and Conferences

2011-07-09T17:08:00.007-04:00

I went to the ASHA Schools conference today, which was down by DC. Nice for me! Still, I hemmed and hawed over going, just because of the cost. Oh, and getting up at 5:30 on a Saturday morning. There were a few sessions whose titles interested me, but you never know what the actual session is going to be like. Will it live up to the promise of its title? These ones did!

First I attended a session on Legal Hot Topics. I know, I am so, so nerdy. My boss was in that one, as was everyone's boss, I think. She came over to give me a hard time about going to that session, out of everything that was offered. What can I say, I like to learn. The other topics were stuff I can do well already. I don't need to have someone tell me how to work in the general education classroom or collaborate with general ed teachers (which a few lectures focused on), because I do that every day!

We attended the same afternoon class, as well, which was called "Understanding Comprehension." It was so good! The woman teaching the course was from Utah, although not really, judging by her Kentucky accent. She teaches at Utah State. And she is most definitely not a member of the church. But she gave one of the best lectures I've ever heard, and I am planning to email her thank her profusely for giving me information that I will use the very next time I work with kids.

Speaking of people from Utah, during lunch I made a new friend. All of us were wearing badges with our name and where we're from, and the woman who sat down next to me was from Salt Lake City. Of course, I had to comment on that. Who would come from Salt Lake to DC for such a small conference (about 900 people)? It turns out that she is the head of all of the school SLPs in the state of Utah. We chatted for 45 minutes straight, on everything from playing the piano (she lamented her lack of ability to sight read, and I gave her pointers) to service delivery models in the schools (I explained how to push services in to the general education classroom, which is apparently unheard of in Utah). Come to think of it, it was more of an advice session that anything. She asked me tons of questions about working in gen ed. But I also listened to her tell about her background, her grandchildren, and her niece-in-law who will be attending BYU in the fall. She was super nice, and I was so glad to make a new friend. Better than eating lunch alone! And hopefully I got the wheels turning in her brain and may have influenced better outcomes for students in Utah. Pull out for language intervention is so last century.

And on to cute kids... Alright, let's just say that I'm working with one of my favorite students for summer school, and let's just say that said student is a soon-to-be-9-year-old deaf child who has had ASL exposure for three years and a CI for less than two. With me? So I worked with him and some other kids in the morning one day last week. Because I had to condense some kids together to see all my students in four days due to the holiday, I took him again during math (since he's on grade level in math already) so he could have more speech fun. This child lives for speech.

I've never grouped him with a hearing child before, because I only see deaf kids at his location during the regular school year. But for ESY, I have the deaf and hearing kids at this school. I pulled two hearing kids to work with him: a child in his class and one in the next grade up. They were both working on articulation. Frankly, they were harder to understand than my deaf kid, who has had a CI for less than two years. Sad. I wish I worked with them during the school year, because I could get them intelligible... trying not to let it bother me too much.

But that's not the point. So one of the kids had his word cards sent by his regular SLP, and the other did not. I checked his IEP, and he was to work on saying R and TH. After checking R and finding that he could not say it at all (and ESY is supposed to be for maintenance, not teaching new skills), I opted to work on TH. It's much easier to teach than R.

I had the boys take turns saying their words correctly and taking a turn in Chutes and Ladders. This was old hat to the hearing kids, but I watched as my deaf child absolutely blossomed. He had no concept of what I call "say and play," because I don't work on articulation with him. I work on listening and language, which impacts articulation. He thought artic therapy was the coolest thing ever. He told me later that he wants to have speech with friends all the time. No more individual sessions.

When it was TH boy's turn, I asked him if he knew any words that start with TH. He suggested "two." Then "top." I asked if anyone else knew of a TH word. My deaf kid suggested, "Throw." TH boy said, "Tow." (For any SLPs who read my blog and have a brain, I know... Why on earth would they work on TH for a child who is stopping??? I didn't write the IEP.) Deaf boy prompted, "No, THHHHHrow," pointing to his tongue between his teeth. Haha. I let him. TH boy said, "Thhhhtow." I corrected the error. When TH boy said, "Thow," and I accepted it (because I'm not working on cluster reduction, unfortunately), deaf boy said, "Good job!" and gave him a thumbs up. Then he gave me a knowing look and said, "I finish, I learn that." Meaning: been there! And he has... the math teacher used to ride him about saying thousand correctly.

Then it was deaf boy's turn. I asked him what he wanted to say. He chose SH, which is what his classmate was working on. I offered him the SH cards, but he declined, saying, "I think." Oh, boy. "Shopping." Good one! "Ship." Wait... Does this kid understand the English sound system?

He demonstrated an incredible knowledge of the English sound system (called phonology) throughout the session, thinking of words for TH boy and for himself. He thought of two different words for himself each time, and he produced the target sounds correctly every time. When he ran out of SH words, I suggested switching to K. He said, "Key. Car." I know that he knows how to spell car... He was absolutely relying on the sounds rather than memorized spelling to come up with words. Cat, king, careful, cut, kite...

Then he said he wanted to do T. He said, "Hot." I told him, "That starts with H, not T." He said, "Hot. Hat. End T." He was thinking of words that end with /t/. Ending sounds are much harder than beginning sounds! Hearing kids years older than him struggle with this.

And his family is worried he'll "rely" on ASL forever. This kid is processing sound on a level superior to his hearing peers, after less than two years of part-time exposure! He hears English at school. It's not like they're AVTing it up at home. I am in awe of him.

And simultaneously annoyed with his "gen ed" ESY teachers. There is no true general education during ESY, but these gen ed teachers are assigned to teach the hearing special ed kids (who are occasionally pulled out by a special educator). My deaf babies are in and out of the hearing class. I'd rather more out than in. Those teachers do not "get" my kids.

Case in point: I explained before ESY began that Little Mr. Smarty Listener is on grade level for math. His language is extremely delayed and so is his reading, but with visuals and examples he does fine in math. Well, for whatever reason (because his speech intelligibility is poor and they associate that with learning disabilities?), they ignored my comments and treated him like he couldn't understand.

One day last week I went in during math to help the teacher of the deaf (who just graduated and was understandably terrified of writing interim progress reports that would not set off our rather difficult parents). While I worked with her at the back of the room, I listened to the classroom instruction. And got very, very annoyed.

They were working on decomposition, which sounds disgusting but just means breaking a number into component parts: tens and ones. They were trying to get the kids to see that there's more than one way to do this; for example, 28 can be broken into 2 tens and 8 ones or 1 ten and 18 ones or even 0 tens and 28 ones. My kids were absolutely stuck on the simplest decomposition possible and could not see the numbers another way. With a class of special education rising second graders, the teacher was explaining this verbally in a full-class setting, with the only visual being "____ tens, ____ ones" written on the board. These kids can't read! And they can't understand a verbal explanation. Most of them are in special ed because they have language learning disabilities!

I finally got fed up and went to teach my children. Or at least the one I knew had a fighting chance at understanding it. The multiply handicapped one... of course it would be too hard for her. She's working on counting to 10. But Mr. I'm on Grade Level? Please. There's no reason he can't do this.

I apologized to the interpreter and asked the two deaf students present that day to turn around. Luckily they were already at the back of the group, so they didn't have to move. I asked the other teacher, who was at a table catching up two students who had not yet completed the previous activity, if I could use the blocks at the feet of the idiot teaching. She looked surprised and told me that there were tens and ones manipulatives at the back of the room. (Then why aren't you people... nevermind.)

The TOD came to sit by me. Fine, she can learn how to teach math to low-language kids. I began with the example on the board, 47. I used ASL so as not to disrupt the hearing kids (and because it was more effective).

First, I took a tens stick and lined up 10 ones cubes next to it. They were the same length. I had the kids count the cubes and emphasized that there were 10. Then, I gave them 4 tens sticks and 7 ones cubes and had them verify that it was 47, which they did. I asked how many tens, how many ones. They answered correctly (we taught them this months ago). I took one of the tens sticks and made a show of replaced it with the 10 cubes that he had counted. I asked how many altogether. They both said 47. I asked how many tens. The little "deaf plus" cutie quickly said four. About what I would expect from her--she doesn't understand the concept of tens (I think she thinks "tens" means "first number"). Smarty counted and said three. I asked him how many ones. He looked up at the ceiling (his thinking face), smiled at me, and spoke, "17." And the hearing teacher asked, "Who said that???" I was tuning her out and didn't know that she had been asking the hearing kids to answer that question. I told her it was Smarty, and she was shocked. I hope she realized that deafness does not make you stupid. She told Smarty that he was right, and he played at being embarrassed, smiling behind his hands. I asked him in ASL if he understood, and he nodded. He went on to make quick work of the rest of the problems.

Because that's how you teach math to deaf kids.

New Home and Old Talent

2011-07-06T18:31:00.003-04:00

First, let me say that I love my new home. There are things that are less than perfect, and there are things that are downright annoying, but overall I am very happy with it. The neighborhood is great! Quiet, with lots of trees. I'll take pictures one of these days. There are many good things about this place, and probably the best is the short commute. One of my schools is five minutes away.

And the ward is fantastic!

That's not why I wanted to blog. I really wanted to brag about my finely tuned hearing.

I went for an EEG today, and the electroencephalographer (who does the EEG) was very nice. She was chatting with me while attaching the electrodes. Laynie was with me, because she couldn't pass up the chance to take a picture of me with wires coming out of my hair. I'll post it once it's downloaded.

As I was listening to this woman, I was trying to place her accent. Slower cadence... slightly more precise final stops... devoiced final consonants... I enjoy identifying the tiny differences in people's speech. I'm nerdy, so what?

I said, "You know, your accent reminds me of Laynie's mom. She's from Austria."

Her response: "Wow! I'm from West Virginia, but when I was a young clinician, I tried hard to suppress my accent. My mentor was an Austrian man, and I guess I picked up his accent."

If only this talent were marketable...

Let's Go Already!

2011-06-20T18:29:00.005-04:00

I seriously can't wait to move. I'm not looking forward to the actual move itself (especially since I'm a weakling these days), but I am looking forward to being in the condo. Two neighbors instead of... I don't even know how many. No one living above or beneath me! No screaming kids in the lobby--no lobby!

I am totally stressed out about the actual move. I am stressed about getting the truck (as in, it actually being there, as reserved). I am stressed about driving the truck into my apartment complex. I am stressed about inconveniencing the neighbors by blocking their garages, although I really shouldn't be. They inconvenience me every day with their screaming kids, smoking, and generally trashy loudness.

One thing that's nice is that we have overlap between the apartment and the condo, so if everything doesn't make it into boxes this week, we can always bring the rest of it down by car. Of course, we want as much of our stuff to go on the truck as possible--so that we don't have to carry it. People from church are helping us move.

Which brings me to another stress topic. I don't trust them to show up! Renting a truck is NOT cheap, so I'm hoping they will show up. My ward is not.. um.. what's the word... reliable. But I have hope.

I can't wait to be in the new place, because my 45-60 minute commute will become a 10-20 minute commute. Oh, yeah! I will save a lot on gas. It will be lovely for days when I take a freelance interpreting job in the evening. I can go home for a couple of hours instead of hanging around work until time for my other job. I'll be able to accept a lot more jobs!

Ooo, and I might be able to run home for lunch sometimes. That would be nice. Two of my schools are within 5 minutes of my new home, and so is my boss' office, which is one of my new workplaces. That's kind of a long story.

Another thing I can't wait for but is stressing me at the same time is my neurology appointment tomorrow. I'm glad it's late in the day instead of in the morning, not only because I don't have to take off work but because I tend to get worse as the day goes on. I'm not going to take painkillers tomorrow, so he can see how fun it gets.

I hope this doctor is smart. I don't care if I get a diagnosis or label; I just want the symptoms to go away! Give me a shot or something.

I have a feeling the process will continue, but I'm okay with that as long as we're narrowing in on a target. I got a blessing yesterday. What I really wanted was for the doctor to have a blessing.. but getting a blessing myself was the next best thing.

One thing I'm not stressed about is Laynie getting a job. Way to go, Laynie! Hopefully they recognize the magnitude of her awesomeness and decide to renew her contract in the spring.

The Right Thing

2011-06-14T20:37:00.004-04:00

At new teacher orientation several years ago, as I began working in this county, one of the themes was Doing the Thing Right and Doing the Right Thing. Doing the Thing Right means following policies and procedures, which is important. Doing the Right Thing is exactly as it sounds.

This has stuck with me, maybe more this year than ever before. Maybe it's delaying re-evaluation to keep a kid on one more year so that she goes to kindergarten with an IEP. Maybe it's nudging an educator to qualify a borderline kid. Maybe it's taking the time to email a parent EVERY SINGLE WEEK despite never receiving a response and certainly never enjoying the same courtesy from her. And maybe it's teaching a student a few life skills that are not exactly on the IEP.

I have a little guy who walks between two worlds. He had no language exposure until well past age five. When he was nearly six, he finally began learning to sign. A year later, he received a cochlear implant. A year after that, a second cochlear implant. He is brilliant, but he is quite delayed in both ASL and English. And his parents do not sign and speak very little English.

This child wants to know everything. He loves to sign. He understands ASL better. However, he tends to speak (despite being understood less than half the time) and tries to gain meaning by listening, because he thinks that is the "right" way to be. He has unfortunately internalized that ASL is somehow a lesser language. No wonder: he gets that message from most of the adults in his life.

Sometimes this gets him into trouble, when he thinks he understands but doesn't. It also gets him into trouble, because he is an excellent little parrot, which makes people think he understands more than he does. And of course, he has perfected the "deaf nod."

One of his teachers is a grumpy person. It must be said: she is just grumpy. She is grumpy with her colleagues, and she is grumpy with students. If a child gives the wrong answer, they are often embarrassed by her harsh response. If they look away during a group lesson, they will be called out on it... again, embarrassed. And heaven forbid someone should not follow directions. My little guy has been mildly embarrassed in class more than once, as have most of the students. This teacher is well-liked by the principal, so there is not much that can be done from my end; the TOD is similarly powerless. Mostly she ignores our kids, which we like. Two of them are so low that she doesn't deign to work with them. Parrot is at the top of the class, so he is on her radar.

Something must have happened in that class last Tuesday, when I was not there. On Wednesday, a member of Parrot's family said that he does not want to go to school, that his teacher is mean to him and doesn't like him. The teacher of the deaf assumed that the child was referring to her, because she had scolded him that day for pushing in the lunch line and deliberately stepping on other children's feet. She explained this to the family member and didn't think much more about it, besides being a little bothered that the child thought she didn't like him.

On Friday, the child's family member came to the school to report that the child was really protesting going to school that day, saying that a teacher was mean, and he didn't want to see her. This time he said which teacher. You guessed it: Grumpy Pants. Not the teacher of the deaf.

I was not at this school Friday or yesterday. During lunch today, the TOD told me what the child had said, and I remembered something that had happened on Thursday. The TOD was in another classroom that day, and I was in with Parrot.

I was working one-on-one with another student when I heard the hubbub. Grumpy was upset with Parrot, much worse than ever before. Parrot is definitely one of her favorite students, but that didn't save him today. Grumpy seemed genuinely angry with him. Apparently he was supposed to do the first four items on the page and then stop. A line and the word "stop" were on the paper below the fourth item, and Parrot certainly knows what that means. I don't know if he was trying to impress her by completing the page--whatever he was trying, it backfired. She let him have it. Then she told him to erase his work on item five.

He must have been in shock. He appeared not to comprehend the direction to erase. He was told more forcefully, and the interpreter tried to help. I tried to sign to him that it was okay, just erase, and Grumpy gave me a Look. The interpreter told him again to erase. Grumpy moved on to another student. I asked the interpreter if Parrot had received the initial directions, and she said that he had. In fact, when he began working on number five, the interpreter reminded him that he was supposed to stop, and he waved her off. I didn't have a great deal of sympathy for him at that point, and I told him to erase number five.

When Grumpy came back around to him two minutes later, I guess he still hadn't erased. She became more angry and yelled at him again. To his credit, he didn't cry. I think I would have! Now I definitely had a great deal of sympathy for him. However, I didn't get a chance to speak with him about it.

When I told the TOD about this incident, she was disappointed that Parrot had willfully disobeyed a teacher but shocked that the teacher had behaved that way. Grumpy's responses were clearly inappropriate. I think she knew she was inappropriate by the look she gave me afterward.

The TOD and I brainstormed, knowing that we needed to give Parrot tools to handle situations like this. One issue we often have with this teacher is that she will say, "Look at me!" This prevents Parrot from looking at the interpreter--Grumpy will turn his face toward her. We have to be careful, because the child's parents would probably like this: they barely tolerate his having an interpreter as it is. I've certainly seen them jerk him around when he "doesn't listen."

We came up with a plan.

When Parrot came back from lunch, I pulled him in to the TOD room to speak with him. I let him know that Grumpy's behavior was wrong. Then the TOD and I had him role play similar scenarios: directions given without sign support, being yelled at for no apparent reason, etc. We taught him to raise his hand and get the TOD's attention. The TOD taught him the phrase, "Must interpreter please." We taught him to sign it and speak it. "Must" is one of his favorite words, which is why she used that. It's something he can understand.

As we ran through the scenarios, Parrot became more confident.

Then we explained that we love him and want him to come to school. If he didn't come to school, we would miss him and feel sad. As we told him this, he began to cry! He understood. Sweet little thing. After taking some deep breaths and drinking some apple juice, he went into that teacher's class, newly empowered.

So it wasn't on his IEP. So it didn't involve speech (much). So there's only a week of school left. Doing the Right Thing felt so good.

Washington DC Temple

2011-05-30T17:47:00.008-04:00

I love the Washington DC temple. It's where I did proxy baptisms as a youth, and it's where I received my endowment. I was so glad that my stake in New York was in this temple district when I was endowed! We switched to the Boston temple shortly thereafter, and later we were in the Manhattan temple district. I love those temples, and they may be prettier inside, but the Washington DC temple has a special place in my heart.

Although I detest Beltway traffic, it's neat when you take the outer loop, because the temple suddenly rises to greet you as you come around a bend.

Isn't this next picture cool? God did some of his best landscaping work on Maryland. If you know the area, you can see where Beach Dr winds through the trees. Check out the stake center, north of the temple--it looks so tiny!

When you finally turn in to the parking lot, you see the temple again:

It is truly magnificent! I'm so glad that I went today. I stayed for over an hour after my session was done, because I didn't want to leave. It was so peaceful.

While I was there I had an attack of what's troubling me, and it was scary... but at the same time not. I can't say that I didn't get upset, but I just moved slowly and stayed until I knew I could manage my legs effectively. I used the time to pray and read and think. And cry. And pray some more. I got some good advice. I should write it down, since I'm so forgetful lately!

As I was leaving the temple, I got an email from my ward Relief Society presidency. This Wednesday is stake temple day! As in, two days from now. I thought it was next week, since our stake conference is not this coming Sunday but next. But I'm not complaining... going twice in one week would be great. If I can be done with my IEP meeting that afternoon in time to get down to the temple by 5:00. Yes, they're meeting quite early.

Alright, I'll wrap this up. I'm so glad I took the time today to go to the temple!

Allergist

2011-05-28T20:27:00.003-04:00

I had my allergist appointment earlier this week. First time for me... I figured it couldn't hurt to see if food allergies could be a factor in my problems.

They're not! I kind of figured that, but now I know. It's one more thing to tick off the list.

It was funny how the allergist appointment came about. I was having a bad health day and stayed home from church Easter Sunday. Someone was worried that I might have gotten my feelings hurt over some foolishness with the ward choir and called to check on me. Not at all--I was just a sickly girl. It was sweet of this sister to think of me, though. I told her that I was going through a rough patch again with my health, and she started asking questions. My problems reminded her of her son's, and she urged me to see the allergist that figured out his problems. So that's how I ended up seeing this guy.

As an aside, I was again struck with how funny it is that everyone thinks my problem is whatever they have or their mother had or their kid had or whatever. I guess it's human nature to see connections.

Back to the topic...

The good news is that I don't have allergies to the 11 most common foods (yes, they jabbed me 11 times for that) or 9 of the 10 most common environmental allergens--jabbed me 10 times and then injected 6 for that one. They injected higher doses of some to make sure. I'm allergic to mites, but not severely.

The bad news is that he thinks I have at least four different problems. He thinks I should start with two different specialists (one being an SLP!), but probably will need at least one more. Crazy, right? But what he said made a whole lot of sense. This guy spent over an hour asking me questions and LISTENING to the answers, and later he took another half hour telling me the results of my testing and sharing more thoughts he had while I was being tested. He totally broke the 10-minute limit on time with a physician.

Well, I guess the bad news is still good news. I was so glad to have information that makes sense that I haven't worried much about any of it. I took a few days to self-evaluate then put out the word that I'm looking for a referral to a particular specialty within my field, so hopefully that will yield fruit. I already have a referral for the other specialty he mentioned (like 100 times).

What I really need is a good general practitioner or internist. I think my nurse practitioner is good, but I need someone great. Now that I've experienced excellence, I really don't want to settle.

Grateful...

2011-05-28T19:58:00.003-04:00

I...

Qualified to buy a condo on my own, despite being way over ratio (darn student loans). My dad was willing to co-sign, but it looks like I won't need him to. The guy at the mortgage company kept running the numbers through FHA's system and scratching his head. All he could say was, "I don't know, I guess it likes your credit score..." My hard work at repairing my credit (I was unspeakably dumb between the ages of 18 and 21) paid off.

Have the opportunity to pick up freelance interpreting jobs.

Have the opportunity to tutor wonderful children.

Get to play one of my favorite hymns, "All Creatures of Our God and King" at stake conference. And finally meet the other interpreter in the stake (I was having a super fun medical procedure last time we had stake conference and on vacation the one before, so I haven't met him yet).

Really good at writing IEPs. I get compliments from colleagues and hugs from parents.

Teaching inservices! Woohoo! I love teaching. When I work with kids, I help half a dozen kids a year become more intelligible. When I work with other therapists, I help a hundred kids a year become more intelligible.

Have found support and something like friendship in an unlikely place.

May be able to work full-time this summer. It's almost too good to be true.

Got fantastic advice from the allergist. I don't have allergies (yay) but it was fortuitous that I was referred to him... He's brilliant.

Have the ability to help a friend.

Can go to the temple Monday morning! What a great way to start the week.

Stressing...

2011-05-28T19:31:00.003-04:00

I am...

Buying a condo. Maybe. Offer accepted, but not certain until I read the inspection report. It's an estate sale, and the family is bitching out over it. They know the systems are old and don't want to replace them or cut the price. If the inspection is terrible, I might have to walk... in which case I begin the search over, and I have to be out of my current place by the end of July.

Freelance interpreting as much as possible. See item one.

Tutoring as much as possible. See item one.

Playing the organ for one session of stake conference (in two weeks) and interpreting the other. I've never played the organ in that building, so at some point I need to go there and check it out. In my copious free time.

Writing a million IEPs. Or it might be a dozen. Feels like a million...

Teaching two inservices at work. I volunteered for it, and I'm looking forward to it, but preparing is just one more thing taking up my time.

Coordinating employment for the fall. I can't say much, except that I have had it about up to here (think high) with my agency.

Negotiating pay for a Baltimore City early intervention job. I know, am I crazy? I know people who've worked early intervention in Baltimore City, heard about the drug deals that go on in front of you. You count your blessings if your car is still there when you leave the kid's house. But I need to money (see item one!).

Dealing with my health issues. Slowly. Oh, I'll have to blog about fun times with the allergist.

Thinking how I'm going to help a friend pass the Praxis and certify as a sped teacher. My current thought is just to take the darn thing for her (I work in special ed and could pass the test cold), but that would kind of quash the next item on my list.

Wanting to go to the temple but never seeming to have the time. I'll admit that Beltway traffic is intimidating. That two-hour session requires a five-hour time commitment. Wish they were open this Monday, but they're closed every Monday. Oooooo! I just checked their website and they are open on Memorial Day 8:00-12:00! That's the best news I've heard all week. :)

What to Do...

2011-05-01T15:55:00.004-04:00

As a Speech-Language Pathologist, people often want to show me their kids, especially for articulation issues. "Will you listen to little Johnny?" It's understandable. I'm sure I would do the same thing--you want to be sure your kid is developing appropriately.

But then there are the kids whose parents don't ask but who are screaming, "I have autism!" or "I don't understand anything you say!" Or occasionally there's a kid who is totally unintelligible, but the parents seem unaware that they should be able to understand their kid by that age. It's hard, because I know that early intervention brings great results.. well, appropriate early intervention does. Sometimes the early years are wasted by therapist doing things that fly in the face of reason (not to mention research), like gum brushing and tongue push-ups. But on the whole, early intervention is a very good thing, so I hate to see these kids not get any help until kindergarten.

Because of this, I feel a real conflict when I encounter kiddos who quite obviously are delayed or have a disability. On the one hand, it would be so good for the child to receive services to help their development. On the other hand, the parent has not asked for my expertise. So I keep my big mouth shut.

For example, a friend of mine has a toddler who has many of the signs of autism (or something else neurological). Even Laynie noticed--she can't identify the speech/language concerns, but her eyes got wide when she saw him toe-walking in his heavy Sunday shoes. This child would probably qualify for a special education preschool, with speech and OT. I haven't said anything, but sometimes I wonder if I should. If I were in the parents' place, I think I would want to know. I'm sure they're not ignoring the signs; they just don't know better. He's the oldest child, so they probably don't have a basis for what "typical" is. But maybe they wouldn't want to know or would not be ready to hear it if they weren't seeking the information.

I have thought about offering to have a church "playgroup" once in a while, where the parents could bring their kids if they had concerns or to make sure they were on track. Pediatricians are supposed to fill that role, but I've had so many of the parents of my students (who all have disabilities) say, "My pediatrician thought he was fine, but I just felt like there was something wrong." The child turns out to be deaf, have autism, have a severe language disorder, etc. So I think a lot of pediatricians may not be well-versed in child development.

Hm, maybe I'll talk to the Relief Society President and see what she thinks about having a playgroup or mommy workshop or something. And hopefully those parents would take advantage of it.

Sick of Being Sick, Tired of Being Tired

2011-05-01T14:30:00.002-04:00

I've been sick on and off (definitely more on than off) for the past year and a half. The pain has been so bad sometimes this week... I was not a happy camper. I think I have a better attitude about it since listening to Brother Richards' talk in General Conference last month. It's true that pain brings humility, and it also brings gratitude in a roundabout way: when you're feeling good, it's easy to be grateful for that because you have the memory of not feeling good fresh in your mind. Opposition.

So although it's been a rough week, I'm feeling hopeful. A friend from church called me earlier this week to check in with me, since I wasn't there last Sunday. She thought I should see an allergist, in case I have food allergies, and she gave me the name of her son's allergist. I have an appointment with him later this month, which I am looking forward to. Even if I don't have food allergies, I think I do have other allergies, because I'm always sniffly/coughy, and I have awful dark, yellow circles around my eyes.

People are so funny. I generally do not say anything when I feel sick, and the only people who know are three people at church, three people at work, my sister, and Laynie. My principal and assistant principal knew but I think they assumed I got better when I had my gallbladder removed. I'm not a big whiner. And I would never tell people all of the symptoms, because I don't want them to think I can't do my job or something. When people find out I'm sick (which doesn't really describe it, but whatever), they always want to advise me on what they think it is. People think it's whatever they have heard of or have experienced themselves. I don't mind hearing their theories, though, because I know they're trying to help.

Since I can't change it, I'm now focusing on what I need to learn from this experience. That has been really positive.

Sometimes it's scary and overwhelming. I guess when I think about it, that's how I feel, but I don't think about it a lot. Mostly I focus on compensating, like saving my energy during evenings and weekends. And I've tried some elimination and challenge dietary changes, which gives me a purpose, even if it doesn't help much.

I'm gearing up for another round of "Let the doctors poke and prod, ignore most of what I say, and find nothing." I've been off doctors for a few months, so it's probably time. I have the new allergy guy, and I got a GI recommendation from my boss, who has Crohn's. She's a discriminating GI consumer, so hopefully her recommendation is good. I want to find a new internist/GP. Laynie's family doctor seemed pretty with it, although she was a really strange person. I have a GI doctor who I think is a really good doctor... if your symptoms fit his research interests. He's into Barrett's esophagus and stomach problems. I became less interesting to him when he concluded that my GERD is due to a plain, old, run-of-the-mill hiatal hernia, and when my biopsies showed no signs of Barrett's. Too bad, because he is a brilliant guy, and I want brain power on my problem!

GI is a part of it, the only part that anyone knows. I get a lot of stomach cramping, and sometimes I'll have diarrhea for a day or several days, for no apparent reason. And the surgeon removed several lower abdominal lesions, which he speculated were to due to inflammation/infection unrelated to my poor, tired gallbladder, which had given up the ghost by that point. But there's more.

What's up with limb weakness, abnormally high muscle tension (torso), tingling, and a feeling that I need to MOVE my limbs. I think it might be what they call "restless leg syndrome," but sometimes it's my arms--like right now. I've had a few times where I had a problem with my left hip, that it's weak and hurts when I try to use my leg. I literally cannot support myself. One time it happened just after I entered a preschool classroom, and I had to stand there, balancing on my right leg, because I could not bear weight with the left. Luckily the class was in circle time, so it was not abnormal just to stand there watching them. It happens more often when I'm sitting and go to stand up, and my body says, "Surprise! I've been saving this for you.. You can't stand, silly!" It's not like this happens frequently, but I doubt it's normal to happen at all. I just go ahead and stand with my right leg, and I gently stretch the bad hip. That helps. Or I can wait for it to go away.

I am loath to admit that I have cognitive symptoms, like word retrieval issues, losing my train of thought, and confusion. I know that everyone experiences going into a room only to forget why you're there. But there are days or weeks that it happens to me frequently, then I'm fine for weeks or months. And have you ever suddenly not known where you are? Not just forgotten where you're going but not even known where you are. I'm not sure if that's normal or not. It happened to the title character in Still Alice (a book I highly recommend), and she ended up having Alzheimer's. When it later happened to me, of course I thought about that book, but I don't think I fit the profile for Alzheimer's. Whew. But the description in the book was right on the money.

And then there's the exhaustion. Sometimes I'm so tired when I get home from work, I can't do anything but lay there. That's pretty much guaranteed to happen on days when I work my regular job and take a freelance interpreting job in the evening. Even thinking about doing anything when I feel that way is enough to make me cry. I feel like such a weenie. It's not like I'm out on a construction site all day! My job is mentally and emotionally draining (try interacting all day with people who need you precisely because they can't interact with people), but I really don't think I should be that tired. It's not all the time. And maybe food plays into it, because there are times I'm too busy to eat properly.

The tough thing is that I don't even know that my problems are related. I wonder if the GI stuff is separate from the rest of it.

I'm so glad [next to] no one reads my blog. It's so helpful for me to process.

OK, I'm formulating a plan. I have the allergist appointment. I'm going to make an appointment with my nurse practitioner (give her one last chance--she did order the right tests to identify the gallbladder problem, after all). I'm going to make an appointment with my boss's GI doctor. And I think I'll make an appointment with Laynie's weirdo doctor. When it comes to doctors, I'll take intelligence over good social skills any day, and I think she's intelligent.

Sometimes I feel like I need to get a medical degree to solve my problems!

Listening Therapy Videos

2011-04-20T13:48:00.006-04:00

Laynie recorded some listening therapy we did over the weekend.

First is the Ling 6 sound check. The sounds mm, ah, ee, oo, ss, and sh cover all of the frequencies of speech, so they should be checked before you practice listening. Probably should be checked every day. The point is for Laynie to hear them (like raising your hand when you hear a beep), but she can usually tell what they are, which is great.

In the next clip, Laynie is listening and saying the words she hears. She chose these ten common words, and we have been practicing them off and on for a few weeks.

Next is a list of words that has groups of words beginning with the same letter. Laynie might have the choices "pan, pail, Pete, pitch" and have to say which one she heard. It's not too hard, except that she hasn't heard the words before (or not anytime recently)--that makes it harder. She has to use her phonics knowledge and her listening skills to figure out which word I'm saying.

The last activity is me reading a book to Laynie and pointing out things that I see on each page. I don't think she's really listening to me read, because she's thinking about what I'm going to ask her to point to or say. Most people haven't really heard Laynie talk, but I can tell you that her speech has definitely improved. I should look for an old video of Laynie talking before implants, so you can see the difference. It's just amazing that she can imitate just using her hearing, without visual cues. In these videos, you can see Laynie using strategies, including narrowing down the choices by sound, focusing on one word at a time, and saying what she thinks she hears to check if she's right. So here is the train book. Oh, I split up the videos because someone (ahem) got distracted by a bird on the balcony and wasted some time. ;)

Laynie Is Making Great Progress

2011-04-20T10:09:00.003-04:00

My spring break is this week, so I got to go to Laynie's auditory rehab session yesterday. She is doing so well!

Last week the therapist, K, told her that she is done with closed sets, because she is doing so well with them. K has been giving Laynie lists of words or sentences and saying them with her mouth covered. Even with lists of 16 words or 10 sentences, Laynie has been getting 100% right with only a few repetitions. It's too easy for her!

Laynie has been doing one open set task every week, the WASP list (sounds, syllables, and simple words that cover all of the sounds of English). K says something, mouth covered, and Laynie repeats it. This was pretty hard at first, but Laynie just finished the first list of 25 sounds/words, and she's on to the next list. She is really improving with being able to say what she hears. She uses some strategies that K and I have taught her, as well as a "cheat sheet" that K made for her during therapy showing groups of sounds that are similar, to narrow down her guesses to the right kinds of sounds. Sometimes her brain knows the sound and doesn't tell her what it means--she can say it but not know what she's saying. She is doing just amazing with this task. It's the same one K initially thought would be too hard for Laynie even to attempt, which she almost didn't include in the original assessment.

Yesterday Laynie did all open set tasks, which is what she will be doing in rehab from now on. She did the whole first WASP list, and she learned five new sounds/words from the next list. She whipped through them! Then she did a new task, which K warned would be much harder. She was going to say a short sentence and Laynie would repeat it. Or at least try to figure out how many words were in the sentence--whatever she could do.

K said, "I saw him." Laynie said, "I saw cat." K and I nearly fell out of our chairs! After we had recovered and K said the sentence again, emphasizing the last word, Laynie said, "I saw hat." She heard the /h/. Of course then she started trying to guess, thinking of all the H words she knows instead of really listening. When she got back to listening, she got the whole sentence right. Wow.

Then K added a word to the sentence: "I saw him yesterday." They worked on strategies like first focusing on how many syllables, then on a specific syllable, then on the beginning of that syllable, etc. Laynie got the word. K added another word: "I saw him yesterday afternoon." Using the same strategies, Laynie got it.

Then her hour was up! K explained that they will do another open set task in their next session, where K will show Laynie a sentence with a word or phrase missing, and Laynie will listen and fill in the blank. I'm sure she will do a great job.

Aren't you impressed?

I'm working on uploading some videos to YouTube of Laynie and me doing some listening therapy over the weekend. Hopefully I can add a blog post with those videos soon.

Mister Personality

2011-03-27T20:04:00.006-04:00

One of the deaf high school students coordinated a deaf/hard of hearing ice skating trip, inviting the teachers, interpreters, and d/hh students throughout the county. It was surprisingly well-attended! There were two kids that the d/hh program head and I had targeted as really needing to attend: one because the parents need to see that talking and signing are not mutually exclusive; the other because the poor kid has no friends. He gets along great with everybody at school, but he's basically hidden away at home, playing video games and watching television. I think it's a combination of a cultural thing (acute embarrassment at disability) and being the only "kid" in the family--brothers are 17 and 18. He's 8.

Both of these kids came! I don't know how much success was had with the adorable little guy who desperately needs sign language (he has an unrepaired cleft palate and can't talk), because I was out on the ice with the 8-year-old. I was so happy that his oldest brother and his mother brought him. I think I've seen mom's face twice in the last two years. They are an overworked, poverty-level family--she doesn't have the luxury of taking off work to volunteer in the classroom or attend IEP meetings. But she is such a sweet person. Laynie got to chat with her a little, which I was happy about. She can see that sign language doesn't make you a bad person. Yeah, pretty much all of the elementary kids' families need this lesson. By middle school they start to accept the idea, and by high school they couldn't care less how their kid communicates as long as they will become a tax-paying citizen at some point.

So Laynie and my sister, Katie, who also signs, came to the little event. Katie hung with the teenagers or with me. I was kind of glued to little man, who at first was terrified, then clingy, then confident--but wouldn't let go of his stabilizer device. It was a metal, walker-looking thing that looks like this picture I found online:

But the kid was fast using that thing! As he began to get comfortable, he started chatting with the deaf students I passed, and with his interpreter, who was one of the few brave adults to get on the ice. I guess I should give little man a name. Let's go with Macarius.

Macarius is a great implant user, although he hasn't had them very long, just since he turned 7. But the noise level at the skating rink made it difficult for hearing people to communicate--you had to lean in to hear people. The hearing teachers were signing to each other to support speech (and of course to be polite). But luckily Macarius also signs, because the school district kind of put down its foot at not signing with a 6-year-old who knew five words.

He got quite the schooling in the basics of deaf cultural communication:

-Repeatedly signing someone's name sign does not get their attention.

-Vocalizing does not get their attention.

-Yeah, you have to wave your hand and get your little body in front of them so they'll see you.

-Just presenting your name sign is not enough. Everyone is going to ask you to fingerspell your name.

-And they're going to fingerspell their names. Get ready for normal speed fingerspelling, because they see an 8-year-old--they don't know you've only been signing for two years. And you learned from hearing. Sorry.

-If you want a turn in conversation, get those arms up when you see a pause. Nobody's going to say, "Macarius, what do you think?"

-"You have cochlear implants too!" is a conversation killer.

-Facial expressions will get you far.

Macarius had a bit of a crush on the d/hh program head's college-aged (I think) daughter. At one point, he told me to go on ahead, he was going to wait for her. Ouch! He loved racing with the college girl's hockey-player boyfriend.

He kept asking me HOW?? as I was skating.

Watching the deaf teenagers try to communicate with him was a rude awakening for me. He couldn't understand much of what they said. "Do you go to a school for the deaf or mainstream school?" Right, like he knows what mainstream means. I modeled answers for him to imitate when needed, and I think they thought he was dumb. Again, two years of learning language! He just doesn't know much. He did learn a new sign and English word while he was there: hockey.

Mom spent the first hour fretting at the sidelines, trying to get Macarius to wear his jacket over his fleece sweatshirt. Of course he was way too cool for that, and he told his mother that the heaviness of the coat would make him fall. (Same kid who argued that he doesn't like to do homework while the moon is out--could you tell?) It honestly is not cold at all when you're skating--I wore a light fleece and no gloves and was fine. Laynie had explained this to Macarius' mom using gestures, and she understood--but you can't keep a worried mom down. Finally I took pity on her and showed Macarius that I had on a tee shirt and fleece. "See? Two. You how many?" He immediately put on his coat. Mom thanked me profusely, nearly crying with relief.

During a Zamboni break (he watched the ice become smooth and said, "Oh, no, now I'm going to fall!"), I made him talk to the cleft palate kid. Just to show that the kids in our program talk. I fingerspelled the other kid's name, and Macarius spoke it aloud.. correctly. It's a weird name, but Macarius is my little phonics champ. Boo-yah. He tried to say hi and stuff. But the other kid was pretty boring for Macarius, since he doesn't communicate, so Macarius went off to stalk the college girl.

When Macarius' mom told him it was time to go (before everyone else was leaving), he was NOT a happy campter. But the Zamboni came out five minutes later and I called it a day, which mollified him. Mom and Brother were trying to get me to meet them at the rink again, because the child obviously had a great time, and they could see that he has a natural talent for skating. He could have ditched the stabilizer thing 30 minutes in.

I told them maybe I'd go skating with them again (how could I just outright say no?), and Macarius suggested tomorrow. Or March 31. Haha. I told him March 31 is a Thursday, and he has private AVT on Thursdays. Older brother suggested next Saturday. Oh, boy.

Another Listening Update

2011-03-27T19:04:00.005-04:00

Wow, this is my 200th post. I thought I'd lose interest long before 200 posts.

Laynie has gone to auditory therapy twice now, and I got to go along on her second visit (it was while I was recovering from the kidney stone incident).

I like her therapist, Kristen. She is so positive, and she really "gets" deaf people. And did I say she is so positive?

Classic Kristen: "Mistakes are wonderful! I just love that you had the opportunity to listen to your choice and what I said and decide for yourself. Didn't that help you so much?"

I don't want you to get the wrong picture: she's not all valley, peppy, bubble-person positive. She's urban, hipster positive. Picture this: 50ish, haircut resembling the nasty (yet chic) queen on V, with chunky glasses and gold hoop earrings. She seriously cracks me up.

The positive vibe somehow communicates "I'm totally confident that you are going to succeed eventually, yet I'm pleasantly surprised by every little bit of progress along the way." That's just the antidote for a person who thinks slow means forever and forever means never.

They spent an hour doing two tasks--nice, slow pace. Laynie listened and repeated sounds and words. Yes, she can do it! Wowie! She can make her voice go higher and lower, louder and softer, matching what Kristen did (hiding her face behind a screen--no lipreading). She needed repetition, of course, because she is just learning. Laynie remembered three of the words she had done before: I/eye, be/bee, and shoe. Then she listened to sentences of about seven to eight words, with a group of five sentences as choices, and she pointed to the one that Kristen said. She did a great job with that, too, with not many repetitions. After doing each sentence several times, Kristen covered up the sentences and asked Laynie just to listen. She got the first one right away! She got the rest with just a few repetitions.

The tasks were standard issue auditory therapy, but I think having a good teacher makes all the difference in the world. I loved her approach and want to emulate her positive-even-through-difficulty attitude. And although none of the activities are things we haven't or couldn't do at home, just the fact that she has an appointment and drives to the clinic for the express purpose of working on listening skills makes a difference--she's very vocal after therapy sessions and comes home wanting to practice more.

Laynie has made a big leap by learning to repeat what she hears. The next step is realizing what she is saying, what the words she is repeating are. Remembering what the words sound like. Hearing the same words over and over is the key, which Kristen said as well. So Laynie chose ten words to learn this week: help, want, hungry, thirsty, food, computer, bed, store, clean, shower. She is doing a great job with them!

Laynie's favorite thing lately is whispering. I think it must have been about four years ago that I explained what whispering is (she sort of had an idea of what it was, but not exactly), but now that she's an implanted girl and can hear it, she loves it. Sometimes she'll whisper from across the room, probably to test my hearingness. It's funny to play with sound, right?

So the gist of the listening update is: Laynie is doing great, and I heart Kristen. So glad Laynie got the perfect therapist for her. Kristen feels like Laynie is just about to climb up to the next rung of the listening ladder: comprehension. That rung is spaced pretty far from the one below it. But she will do it. She's only had her implants (well, the first one) for two years, and the first year was a mess of mapping issues (struggling to get them programmed right). The audiologist said she'll take at least 5-7 years to reach her potential and might continue to improve long after that.

Speaking of the audiologist... I love him, but maybe she needs to switch. She was getting an eye blink with some sounds, which could mean too much stimulation overall or a problem with a certain electrode. It might mean that some electricity is learning the cochlea, where it's supposed to be, and stimulating the nearby facial nerve. The audiologist just globally decreased the power on both ears, which made things quieter, which she did not want. The problem is that it's hard to find an audiologist who knows how to program Laynie's brand. She has Med-El, which I guess you could say is kind of like the Apple of cochlear implant brands... think pre-iPod Apple. Okay, so it's more stable and user-friendly, and the quality might be higher... but it's not on most people's radar, and good luck finding programs for it. Med-El has a fantastic track record (no "oops we accidentally put out YET ANOTHER BAD IMPLANT that went down in a blaze of glory or maybe killed a few kids" like AB or paying off doctors like Cochlear), and the company has been wonderful with the few minor technical problems Laynie has had, but it sure is a pain to find an audiologist who can map it.

There's a fantastic audiologist at GBMC that a lot of deaf people go to, whom they bring their deaf children to.. but she only maps Cochlear and AB. Maybe she'd be willing to learn? I did hear of a good audiologist who maps Med-El, who is down at the University of Maryland. There's another guy at Hopkins who specializes in mapping adults, but it's kind of awkward to switch to someone in-house. And her current audiologist signs, which is a bonus--not fluently but enough to get by if I couldn't go with her. (Sure she could get an interpreter, but that's a crapshoot.) And of course I have to admit that Laynie is probably a very difficult patient to map, just because she doesn't know what things are supposed to sound like and can't provide very good feedback yet. Who's to say that the current audiologist didn't do the right thing by turning everything down? I'd like to see him spending more time with her and figuring out problems, though. I guess I'll just close this little digression by saying that I don't envy Laynie her decision of which audiologist.

And I'll close this whole post by reiterating that I'm so proud of Laynie for the work she is putting in. Oh, I forgot: the other day she recognized that her dad answered the phone not by his linguistic style but by his deeper voice. She is doing great!

A Wee Pioneer

2011-03-24T20:48:00.005-04:00

I had a fun new adventure! Yesterday morning, I woke up at 2:00 because of pain.. sort of generalized back pain and sciatic nerve pain down both legs. Too hazy with sleep to recognize exactly what I was feeling. I went to the bathroom, trying to decide if it was really back or abdominal pain. The two can be confusing in the middle of the night... or I'm pain-impaired. I went back to bed but couldn't sleep. At 2:30, I gave up, took some ibuprofen, and sat down at the computer to play a game.

My back/stomach started feeling better! But by then I was wide awake. I kept playing on the computer.

Around 4:00, the pain came back, as well as strong urges to use the bathroom. Oh brother. I had already taken 600 mg of ibuprofen. Whatever, I took 400 more. Ran a bath.. Lay flat on my back.. Tried sitting.. Walking.. I was not a happy camper. And then, around 4:30, someone stuck me in the back with a knife.

I mean, I couldn't see the knife, but it was definitely there, in the right side of my back. It surprised me. I tried the bath thing and kept running to the bathroom without much luck. I just assume everything is a bowel problem, because for me, it usually is.

The pain got better. It had been an 8 but went down to maybe a 5. About half an hour later, it hit again, this time worse. Tears sprang to my eyes. I emailed my home teacher (it wasn't even 5:30 am, so I didn't want to call) to ask for a blessing on his way to work.

The pain started coming in ever-more-frequent waves, going down to a 7 and up to a 9. For me, gallbladder pain is a 10, and it wasn't quite there. But it was bad!

Laynie woke up around 6:20 to find me cowering on the bathroom floor. She told me to CALL our home teacher. I texted him as I took more ibuprofen. He got back to me pretty quickly, and I got my blessing before 8:00. Ugh, it wasn't what I wanted. I fully expected to be healed, but no: "slowly subside," "due time," "trust medical system." Doctors? Not my cup of tea.

There are about a million hospitals within half an hour of here, and my home teacher said he liked GBMC when his wife gave birth there. I had a not-so-enjoyable experience at Johns Hopkins (waiting five hours in excruciating gallbladder pain before a doctor even laid eyes on me, leaving the next day without answers), so I didn't think I wanted to go there. Northwest, 10 minutes away? I wouldn't leave my car in the parking lot--probably come back to no radio or tires. I decided to give GBMC a try.

I got right in! Score! I went straight to triage, right back to the actual ER, and saw a doctor within 20 minutes. Oh, yeah. I was loving it, although the waves of pain (still 9 at worst, 7 at best) were coming every 10 minutes. But I thought the end was in sight. The doctor immediately ordered dilaudid and something for nausea. The nurse tried to get blood but I was too dehydrated--managed to start an IV at least. I really didn't care what they did, as long as I got pain medicine SOON. They ended up giving me two doses of dilaudid, because the first one didn't do anything.

The dilaudid helped for a little while, but it seemed to wear off within an hour. Then my pain was ranging 8-10. Yup, 10. It was actually worse than gallbladder pain, although it didn't have quite the staying power. At least it was coming in waves and not being continually excruciating.

They gave me more dilaudid. I guess it helped. I had a CT scan of my abdomen and chest. Abdomen for obvious reasons (the pain was in the right side of my back, sort of near my waist), chest because I had pain when the doctor pushed on the right side of it--different pain than the other one. And some test was elevated that could mean a pulmonary embolism. Again, I didn't really care what they did, as long as they made the pain go away, so I said fine, scan my whole body if you want. Radiation shmadiation.

After I got back from CT, my pain was back up at 10. Laynie flagged down the nurse, and she stopped at the door to say, "I'm obviously in the middle of something; you're going to have to wait." Aaaah! I was in agony. I answered email and gave instructions for an IEP meeting I was missing--tried to distract myself. Mostly I held Laynie's arm and cried. The nurse came back in a while with a percocet pill.

Later (by now it was after noon) the doctor came in to say that I had a kidney stone in my right ureter. Great. I sort of thought that was what it was. Despite not having a family history of it, I knew there was a wee pioneer blazing trails through my unsuspecting innards. What else is going to cause single-sided pain in that area? On with it, make the pain go away. I was thinking that they should just put you under general anesthesia to pass kidney stones...

The doctor ordered toradol (anti-inflammatory and pain med) and flomax (old men with prostate problems medicine--relaxes the urinary system or something, less spasming as the stone goes through). And more nausea medicine, because I was pukey by that time. Still had pain fluctuating between 8 and 10.

Well, something started to work.. or maybe it was the combination of everything: dilaudid, percocet, toradol, and flomax. Suddenly my pain was fluctuating between 6 and 7. Beautiful. They kicked me out. Gave me some funnel sieves to pee in and sent me on my way.

Around 2:30, Laynie drove me home. She hit the cement base of a pole trying to navigate the tight ER circle. Poor Laynie. I screamed when the impact happened and freaked her out. I couldn't really be mad though--I cracked her front bumper when her car was pretty new, failing to a short sign in the little road around UVSC. And sadly this impact was not the first damage to my less-than-9-month-old car. The roofers dropped a canister and dinged the hood. The bumper was abraded, but I don't care, because it's plastic and won't rust. Poor little Bug, though.

On the way home, I got this weird feeling. It's hard to describe. Definitely psychotic. My heart raced, heat rushed through my limbs, and I had the uncontrollable urge to hit myself in the face. So I did. I slapped the sides of my face, and I kept saying (signing), "Something is wrong, something is wrong." I didn't want to slap my face, so I wrung my hands, bumped my knuckles, finally clapped my hands. That was good--closer to normal. I just had to keep the rhythm. Bad trip? The feeling subsided within 15 minutes and didn't happen again.

That's why you don't do drugs, kids.

Well, my pain didn't go past maybe 8 the rest of the day. The worst was over. Well, not really--the worst was controlled by drugs. Laynie went out and got my percocet and flomax prescriptions filled. I was dizzy, getting nauseated every time I picked up my head. I tried to sleep but kept getting woken up by small noises. I passed the rest of the afternoon in a haze. I ate chicken soup broth and saltines for dinner. I traded emails with friends. I texted with my sister. I texted with my dad, who is a PA. I think he specializes in urology. He said it would stop hurting when the stone got to the bladder. The doctor had said that could take hours or days. One thing dad had said made me feel better: it wouldn't hurt coming out. I could now pee with confidence.

I fell asleep at 8:30, knocked out by the percs. I got up a few times during the night and took medicine, but I slept a lot. I woke up feeling better but hating the drug side effects more. Dizziness to the point of vertigo, which caused nausea. But there was no way I was taking a chance that the crazy pain would come back.

Around 11:00, I started passing sand flecked with dark stuff that I thought was blood. Now I don't think so. I think it was bits sheared off the stone, which passed around 12:30. Hooray! It was dark red, looked like little spheres stuck together. Dad was right: it did not hurt coming out. It was only 3 mm.

So now I have the little devil in a specimen cup, ready for my urology appointment on Tuesday. They will analyze it and let me know what kind of stone it is and what kinds of foods to avoid or vitamins to take or whatever.

If you are thinking about my previous blog post and scratching your head, yes, I passed the stone at 12:30 and got to work by 2:30 for a 3:00 meeting. Because I rock. And I'm crazy: I was soooo dizzy. Of course Laynie was my chauffeur.

My little inquisitive guy asked why he didn't have speech today. It's Thursday, after all, and Thursday is speech day! So life goes on.

"Interactive"

2011-03-24T20:33:00.005-04:00

You know how four-year-olds go through the "why" phase? Why is the sky blue? Why do we have fingernails? Right, so one of my first graders is in that stage of language development.

I got a chance to chat with him after school, keeping him distracted during a meeting with his parent. He is always fun to chat with, and today was just like every time I talk with him... except that the assistant principal was listening. I don't think she has ever talked with him (well, she doesn't sign, and you kind of need to in order to have an effective conversation with him), and she was floored by how "interactive" he is.

What is that dark stuff in your teeth and how did it get there? (fillings)

Why does hair turn gray?

Does that mean you're a grandma? (yes, directed to me--guess I'll have to flesh out his concept of "grandma" meaning mother's mother, not just gray-haired woman)

How do lava lamps work?

Will it be dark at 6:00?

Why don't french fries make you grow tall?

Older brother has a big computer--is that because it ate a lot?

Do hot dogs count as meat?

And he informed me that he cannot drive because he cannot see over the steering wheel. And that he doesn't want to turn 9 because he really likes the number 8.

He made an impassioned plea for doing homework on the bus (his bus ride is like 45 minutes) instead of at home. He gets grumpy doing homework because he doesn't want to do it when the moon is in the sky. The moon means it's night time. Night is for sleeping. He asked me to explain that to his father.

Related to our gray hair conversation, he told me that his mother dyes her hair and asked me how much hair dye costs. (He's really interested in how much things cost.) Like $25? I told him it's about $10 if you want to do it at home. But it's more like $100 if you go to the salon. Palms slapped against his cheeks, he exclaimed, "One hundred!" then whispered, wide-eyed, "Oh my god."

Who I Am

2011-03-04T19:36:00.013-05:00

Somewhere out there is a little boy going through the evaluation process for special education. I'm not testing him, but a good friend of mine is. She's a special educator, and when she gave him the usual test for reading, writing, math, and content, she was just blown away by what this first grader could do. By what he understood. He enjoyed word play and interesting math problems. He was certainly the highest child she had ever tested, and then she told me that he had scored 141 on a nonverbal intelligence test that the school psychologist gave him. Apparently everyone in the special education system was blown away by this. I thought, That's cool. But personally, I'd be disappointed with that score.

Before you go thinking I'm a Snooty Sneech... well, don't jump to conclusions. I just didn't think 141 was that impressive. The day after this conversation, the special education team leader came into the room I share with the educator who tested the child. I was the only one there. As he dropped something on her desk, I commented, "I hear little Gary (made up name, of course) had a rough day today. Couldn't handle the change in the language arts schedule or something." He responded, "What else is new? By the way, did you hear about his IQ score?" He went on to point out, "Gary is as different from regular kids as your kids are, just in the opposite direction."

First off, I corrected his assumption that deaf kids have mental retardation. I mean, 141 is to 100 (exactly average) what 100 is to 59. That's MR, as it was called until last year when it changed to intellectual disability and everyone began pretending that they had never used the "r" word in their lives. But although "my kids" do not have terribly low IQs, they do have abysmally low language abilities. One scored right around 55-60 last year... so I know what 59 looks like, and it's LOW.

Although I was disgruntled at his casual dismissal of my students' intellect, the sped master got me thinking. Actually, he set my feet on a path I should have gone down long ago.

If Gary is that different from regular kids... no wonder he can't get along with them. I mean, he has emotional disabilities (crying in the coat closet, freaking out at changes in routine) that are over and above his giftedness, but even discounting that, what could he possibly have in common with regular kids? Think about it. How much do regular kids enjoy playing with intellectually disabled children? I can tell you from experience: not much. It takes some persuasion to get typical children to play with my students who have Down Syndrome or what have you. The intellectually disabled child doesn't understand what the peers are saying, doesn't get the games they play. Similarly, an intellectually gifted child wouldn't enjoy playing with regular kids who don't understand what he is saying and don't get the games he wants to play.

I borrowed a book from the library entitled When Gifted Kids Don't Have All the Answers. I did this partly because I was interested in the topic--but I'm interested in most topics. Well, really I was in the education section because I wanted to brush up on special education law, and I happened to spot this book, thinking, Maybe I can give [special educator friend] some ideas for writing Gary's IEP.

Reading this book, I saw myself on every page.

The book presented a list of 14 general characteristics of a gifted children, with the caveat that gifted children will demonstrate many but not all of the characteristics.

1. Shows superior reasoning powers and marked ability to handle ideas, can generalize readily from specific facts and can see subtle relationships; has outstanding problem-solving ability

2. Shows persistent intellectual curiosity; asks searching questions; shows exceptional interest in the nature of humankind and the universe

3. Has a wide range of interests, often of an intellectual kind; develops one or more interests to considerable depth

4. Is markedly superior in quality and quantity of written and/or spoken vocabulary; is interested in the subtleties of words and their uses

5. Reads avidly and absorbs books well beyond his or her years

6. Learns quickly and easily and retains what is learned; recalls important details, concepts and principles; comprehends readily

7. Shows insight into arithmetical problems that require careful reasoning and grasps mathematical concepts readily

8. Shows creative ability or imaginative expression in such things as music, art, dance, drama; shows sensitivity and finesse in rhythm, movement, and bodily control

9. Sustains concentration for lengthy periods and shows outstanding responsibility and independence in classroom work

10. Sets realistically high standards for self; is self-critical in evaluating and correcting his or her own efforts

11. Shows initiative and originality in intellectual work; shows flexibility in thinking and considers problems from a number of viewpoints

12. Observes keenly and is responsive to new ideas

13. Shows social poise and an ability to communicate with adults in a mature way

14. Gets excitement and pleasure from intellectual challenge; shows an alert and subtle sense of humor

The list was quite an eye-opener for me. Because the list IS me. (Mm, I don't know about #13--not sure if I had "social poise" as a child, but I know that I saw adults as equals.)

The funny thing is that I thought I was normal. I just thought other people were dumb when they didn't understand things as readily as I did.

In church I spent many years after high school working in Primary with the children. At some point I was called to teach Relief Society (women's class), which meant that I was now going to the adult Sunday School class every week, as well as to Relief Society. I found that I really liked Sunday School--the teacher was great. I also found that other people don't understand everything they read. They needed the teacher to explain what many of the passages meant. I'm not saying I automatically understand everything, just most of it. I didn't know that was special until I was in a class with other adults, but I still didn't think of myself as smart or gifted. I thought I was the normal one. And I thought maybe I had a gift specific to the scriptures. I assumed that other people had difficulty just with the scriptures--I've since learned that people have difficulty reading works of literature, technical reports, journal articles, instructions, etc.

At the beginning of last year, I had two parents who became VERY upset with me when they didn't understand some information I had given them regarding their children's speech difficulties and how to do the homework. I thought I had written very clear explanations and instructions. I really didn't understand why they didn't understand--and why that made them angry. That situation came to mind following my colleague's comment about a gifted person being as different from typical people as a mentally handicapped person is. If a typical person wrote an explanation that made sense to them, would a person with severe Down Syndrome understand it? I realized that I would need to "dumb down" my language if I were to write instructions in the future. It also occurred to me (ahem, number 1, generalizing readily) that I should simplify my language in reports and on IEPs. I don't mean using jargon--of course I know not to do that. But apparently my regular vocabulary or syntax or something can be difficult for people to understand.

I noticed in Utah that people often couldn't understand me. I consciously modified both my accent and my vocabulary, because communication is really the goal. That was probably good, because my success with communication dramatically increased following that decision, but maybe I regret it a tiny bit. I got out of the habit of using words that I like, because they allow me to express myself with more precision. I'm kind of torn, because there's no point in using words that people don't understand... but I like those words! I like all words.

I thought everyone could remember the phone numbers of all of their acquaintances. I thought everyone could remember conversations word for word. I thought everyone could remember what their teachers said in class.

I didn't study in high school. I'm embarrassed to say that I didn't know how. But I didn't need to, so I never learned. Actually, I thought I did know how; I thought that studying was what I did when I read over my Latin vocabulary words while dashing to class. When I got to college, I thought I was dumb, because I didn't get As on all of my tests without studying and without going to class all the time. I gave up and quit going to class altogether, which didn't do great things for my grades. I finally got a clue when I went back to school as a 25-year-old. I learned that I could get As by writing the information again and again until I had memorized it. This worked for any amount of material, even pages and pages of truncated phrases. I found that memorizing how many details went with a topic helped, because I could picture where in the list each phrase should go. My method worked well for me. That was good, because to me, a B is an embarrassing failure. Even an A- is a disappointment--alright, I'll admit it, I see an A- as failure. And I don't think I'm wrong: I just think As are normal. Using my "write it out" method, I got straight As for 2 1/2 years finishing my bachelor's and throughout my master's program.

That made me happy, but not because I thought it was a great achievement. It was more like relief at having avoided failure.

I wonder if you might read this and think I'm being egotistical. Even as I write all this, I feel like a fraud, like I'm really not smart and will be "found out." Being as insecure as I am, I naturally enjoyed the section of the book that delineated the many problems related to giftedness, including:

-being impatient

-having difficulty getting along with less able peers

-wanting to move on quickly to more challenging problems, despite what the rest of the class is doing

-getting bored (welcome to my world!)

-driving you crazy with questions

-feeling that everyday class work is trivial and meaningless

-seeming scattered and disorganized

-taking on too many projects at once

-resisting direction or interruption

-talking too much

-seeming pompous or conceited--a "show-off"

-playing word games that others don't understand or appreciate

-burying self in books and avoiding social interaction

-getting bored with the regular curriculum

-resisting assignments that don't present opportunities for new learning

-getting impatient with peers for being "slow"

-disliking drill and practice

-wandering off the subject

-having tunnel vision, hating to be interrupted

-being stubborn

-having difficulty working with others (um, they'll just mess it up)

-seeming bossy and disrespectful

-being unable to accept help

-setting unrealistically high goals

-being perfectionistic

-lacking tolerance for others' mistakes

-fearing failure

-FEARING FAILURE

-FEARING FAILURE

-avoiding taking risks or trying new things

-becoming depressed

-being a loner

-having difficulty focusing on or finishing assignments

-having trouble making decisions

-seeing too much

-resisting sameness and routine tasks

-taking things personally

-feeling powerless to solve the word's problems

-becoming fearful, anxious, and sad

-having trouble handling criticism or rejection

I saw myself in many of those negative characteristics, unfortunately. I also learned that I'm a classic underachiever: I don't believe what apparently I'm capable of. It's only since reading this book that I think I may really be capable.

When I shared the book and my thoughts with Laynie, she got a little upset and wondered how we can be friends when we're so different. The chasm seems unbridgeable.

I don't have an official IQ score to report. I know that I tested into some kind of gifted magnet school when I was 6, but my parents decided not to send me. Whenever I take online IQ tests, they results are around 150. I think they highest one was 162 and the lowest was 145 (some tests ceiling out at 145 though--three standard deviations about the mean). I guess I didn't realize the impact of scores like that until sped man made that comment about little Gary. If you took 10,000 kids his age, he'd be smarter than all of them. But people definitely don't understand what that means.

The child's evaluation team held a meeting in my room the other day to discuss how they're going to handle this very unique situation (how to qualify a child who is far above grade level for special ed, which he certainly seems to need), and the psychologist made the comment, "He's using all his energy thinking about algorithms or whatever, so he probably doesn't have any energy left to respond when people talk to him." That's not what being gifted is about. It doesn't take energy to think about "hard" things. You want to think about those things, you enjoy thinking about them--it's not a matter of diverting energy from other things. You can do many things at once. I used to get in trouble in grad school for doing the crossword puzzle or sudoku in a couple of classes, but I was absolutely following the lectures. Those classes were too easy. I didn't need to use my whole brain to process what the professors were saying. In fact, when I wasn't doing the crossword puzzle to keep me grounded (for lack of a better word), I'd be totally out of class mentally, thinking about other things--things that interested me. That happened a lot in high school. I remember practicing the Greek alphabet backwards when I was bored in high school classes. I had already memorized it forwards. I'd practice writing the beautiful Greek characters--the teachers probably thought I was taking notes. I'd also memorize the posters on the wall.. the periodic table, Latin noun declensions, characteristics of poetry, math formulas.. whatever was around. I cannot handle boredom.

I laughed at one list in the book. It was called "The Ten Commandments that Foster Elitism."

I. Thou shalt be told that boredom is part of life and that easy, redundant work must be tolerated.

II. Thou shalt often hear classmates express frustration because the test was hard... when thou thought it was easy. (Ever been accused of being a "curve-wrecker?" Yeah.)

III. Thou shalt procrastinate on long-term assignments until the day before they are due... and thou shalt turn them in and get A's.

IV. Thou shalt hear classmates ask questions of thy teacher that thy teacher answered clearly yesterday. (haha)

V. Thou shalt receive numerous telephone calls from classmates the night before a test asking how to solve a difficult problem.

VI. Thou shalt consistently get good grades without having to work or study hard.

VII. Thou shalt know the answer to every question the teacher asks... and can answer the questions no one else can. (FYI: this annoys teachers.)

VIII. Thou shalt have thyself, thy grades, and thy work held up, by thy teacher, as examples to be emulated.

IX. Thou shalt be chosen first by the team captain for spelling, math, and geography bees.

X. In short, thou shalt have ample opportunity to believe that aptitude is equated with human value and that if thou art smarter, thou art better.

Five and ten really hit me. I had people become "friends" with me just so that I would "study together." Free tutoring! It took a few times before the pattern became clear: hm, this person always wants to hang out before a test. Number ten... This was made quite clear to me by a person close to me. I don't want to hurt her feelings by saying too much about it, but this is something that still plagues me. I have to remind myself that being smart doesn't make you a better person, that God loves everyone. That everyone has a talent.

Speaking of talents, let me be clear: mine are from God. Of course. I know that God gave me musical talents so that I could be of service at church. And thinking in music helped me improve my auditory processing as a teenager. That's a whole other post. I probably don't recognize all my talents or what I'm here to do. Today, as I knelt to adjust Laynie's ski boots for the fifth time, I thought, I'm a pretty good friend. That made me happy, and I recognized it as a talent. I'm not sure why I have the intellect that I have. It often does not seem like a gift. Maybe it's a trial.

I don't tell people that I'm smart. I usually try to pretend that I'm just like everybody else. Sometimes I say that I forgot something when I really didn't, or that I don't know the procedure for something when I do. Last week, I told my friend, the teacher of the deaf that I work with, that I think I'm gifted. On many occasions she has asked me, "How do you know that?" or "How do you remember all that?" I will deflect with, "I just looked it up for another student," or something similar. Last week she started to say, "Wow, you are gifted." Every time I did something she considered unusual, she'd point it out. Like when the mainstream class voted on their favorite Dr. Seuss books (they were creating a bar graph) and I noticed that a little girl raised her hand twice--and I knew which book she had already chosen. I knew which books all of the special ed students had chosen. That didn't seem unusual to me. I just remember things. Now the teacher of the deaf is convinced that I have a photographic memory, which I do not. It's hard to explain. Things just go into my brain and stay. It's not like I see a picture of them. Most of the time. I guess sometimes I can see pages from textbooks when I need information. But usually I just think and the information is there.

I had another insight this week. I now understand why deaf adults feel connected to or possessive of young deaf children. Every day I want to pull Gary aside and talk to him, help him understand himself. He's my people. I feel a surprisingly strong kinship toward him. I want him to have a better experience than I had. Maybe I should just let the regular people take care of it--let them chisel the corners off him so that he fits into the hole.

I know how all this sounds. I don't mean to be a jerk. That's why I've kept it to myself for... oh, my entire life. Not only have I kept it to myself, I've kept it from myself.

I suppose I'm a little late getting on the path of self-discovery. But better late them never.

Saying Yes

2011-03-01T19:33:00.011-05:00

So somebody from church (okay, it was the Bishop) asked me to accompany him for a trombone solo in sacrament meeting on March 13. That's in two weeks! Well, it was when he asked.. now less than two weeks. My mouth said, "Sure," which is what it always says.

He said he wanted to play "The Lord's Prayer." I said I wasn't really familiar with it. He said it has a lot of flats and is kind of hard at the end.

Yesterday, the Bishop emailed the music to me, and this is what he sent.

I'm actually fine with the five flats. I think well in flats for some reason. If you know music, you're probably thinking that it doesn't look so bad, and I thought the same thing. It says lento, which is 56-60 for the quarter note.. slow. But there are few quarter notes. It's all triples, which are three to a quarter note.. math.. 168-180! What killed me were the simultaneous arpeggios on the first two pages. And the jumps in the middle of the last page, where it's down-up-up and up-down-up so quickly, and with 4 or 5 notes in each chord.

The first few times through were pretty painful. Laynie thought I had lost all musical skill--she actually looked worried. She's only seen me play familiar pieces and regular church music; for example, the choir director also gave me a piece of music on Sunday, which I took home and played right through with nary a missed note. I explained to Laynie that the process I was going through with the music from the Bishop is normal, and I'll get better as I build muscle memory for that piece. I used to go through this process regularly in high school, when I did a lot of accompanying and when I was motivated to learn hard music. Just because you can't play something the first time you see it doesn't mean you can't play it. I'll learn it, but it's going to take a lot of work, a lot of time.

I don't know that I'll be so quick to say yes next time.

Oh, who am I kidding... Of course I will.

My inability to say no affects me at work, as well. Despite being busy with my own caseload, I can't help but say yes when others ask me to consult on their cases or observe a kid or whatever. Case in point: Today I went with one a resource SLP to visit an adorable little boy with hearing loss and cleft palate. The resource gal is a friend of mine, but I didn't know the SLP assigned to that elementary school, the one who was working with the child regularly.

As I listened to the child's speech and language errors, which were many, it was immediately apparent to me that the speech errors were mainly due to issues related to the cleft. Hearing loss seemed to be impacting his language to some degree, but the articulation errors were classic cleft palate speech. He reminded me of a couple of kids I worked with in the past.

Following a consult visit like this, it's customary to discuss observations/findings/recommendations with the SLP working with the child regularly. Typically they give lip service to agreeing with you, argue a few points, thank you for your time, and go back to doing what they were doing. Not so in this case.

She argued with everything we said. Not politely disagreeing but becoming quite agitated. The things she said were absolutely off the wall. All I could think was a. Is this person for real? and b. Why did she ask for help and then reject everything we said?

And there's more to the situation.. I'm not even going to get into it. Sometimes fighting for the best interests of a child involves fighting a powerful machine. And I HATE educational politics.

I don't know that I'll be so quick to say yes next time I'm asked to consult.

Ack. Yes I will.

I was going to close the post here, but I was just thinking about another time that I said yes. Last year, an SLP posted a question on the conference about two tough preschool articulation cases. I emailed some suggestions to her, which began a dialogue about how to work with a problem like the little boys'. It happened to be a specialty area of mine. At the next speech meeting (all the SLPs get together for instruction and once a month), she found me and somehow convinced me to come out to her school to see the boys for myself and give suggestions. As you might imagine, I wasn't difficult to convince.

I went out and had some suggestions. She didn't argue with a thing; she took notes! She thanked me profusely as I left and seemed quite genuine. I felt great that I had helped her and that the boys would make more progress now.

Months went by. This past fall (so probably six months later), she tracked me down at a speech meeting again to tell me how the boys were doing. One was doing great, and the other had made little progress. She understood what to do with him now, which was progress, but she still couldn't get him to say the sounds he needed to say next. Of course I agreed to go out and see him.

The first time I went out, this little guy was so shy that he wouldn't speak directly to me. The other SLP ran the session. The second time, I ran the session--I brought fun toys and games and was EXTRA fun and SUPER silly, and the little boy was willing to play me and try what I asked him to try. I was lucky, because I got him to say one of the target sounds. The other SLP, who was again taking notes, nearly cried. She had been working on that since the spring. He said it about a dozen times for me, and I passed the baton to her.

After that visit, she and I talked for a long time, about work and also about her personal life, some of the hardships she'd been through in the past few years. This time, we didn't part with a "thank you" and "oh no problem." We parted with a hug, as new friends.

Which goes to show that saying yes is a very good thing.

"Sister Hasting Taught Us.."

2011-02-20T12:33:00.002-05:00

I've was out of Primary last week and the week before.. but back in today. Playing the piano! Fun times. The music leader was introducing a new song today, The Books of the Old Testament. I may have mentioned this song before.

Right, so the music leader had me play the first line, and apparently no one recognized it. Well, my kids have never actually heard the music--just my lousy voice. As I looked around, only four of the eight kids in my class last year were here: three girls and a boy. And one of the girls only comes to church about once a month. But I would think that one of the other three would recognize it! Oh, well.

Then the music leader asked if anyone knew the first book of the Old Testament. One hand--one of my girls. Then the light went off in the other three kids' heads, and they about leapt from their chairs to answer the rest of her questions: "And what comes after Genesis? Does anyone know how to say this long word? And what comes after that?" Four hands up after every question.

Then one of my girls said (with typical 10-year-old patience), "We already know this song."

Poor music leader. She stuttered for a minute. I know exactly what was going through her head: This is all I have planned for today! She asked how they knew the song, and the same girl responded, "Sister Hasting taught us in class."

The music leader was visibly relieved. She still needed to teach the song to everyone else.

She had them sing the first line (four books) and stop... and naturally my smart alecky class didn't stop but softly sang as she told them, "We're not ready for that yet!"

So then she decided to challenge them. This was mainly directed at two girls. My boy (my favorite student) was also singing, just not so obviously showing off that he knew this wordy song. He's a respectful kid. The music leader said that they would sing that first line again as a group, then she would have me play until she didn't hear anyone singing. They would be on their own, singing for as long as they could last.

We haven't sung this song since probably November. I thought they might get lost at Lamentations--they've certainly never sung it on their own. And it's a difficult song, because you're basically just memorizing words in isolation, without the benefit of context.

But wrong me! (Yes, I speak ASL sometimes. So?) Those little angels got all but the last two books.

About a minute later, I heard one say to another, exasperatedly, "It was Zechariah, Malachi!" Hey, at least she knew where to find them, even if she didn't remember every book.

This was a big reminder to me that kids really do listen and remember what you teach them, so make sure it's something worthwhile! Of course I was very, very proud of them.

And a wee bit amused at a certain non-Hasting-fan-club adult's slack-jawed expression as my kids rocked what is arguably the most difficult Primary song.

Evaluation

2011-02-05T08:21:00.008-05:00

Laynie was interested in seeing how she was doing with her cochlear implants in relation to other CI users, and she wanted to see if she could improve her listening skills, so she went for a rehabilitation consult at The Listening Center at Johns Hopkins.

Let me give extraneous background information... My experiences as a professional working with members of The Listening Center team has been negative so far. Audiologists who don't email us back, AVTs who are anti-signing for every deaf child (including my favorite little guy, who had no language until he began learning ASL at age 6 (yes, years, not months) and was implanted at age 7), who diagnose apraxia for any deaf child who hasn't caught up in spoken language by two years post implant... the list goes on. And it's not just The Listening Center. Kennedy Krieger, which is the Johns Hopkins clinic for hearing kids with developmental/speech/language/whatever issues, is even worse. They have SLPs diagnosing autism (should be a psych or doctor), and they also love to call everybody apraxic. I actually had them diagnose one child with a language disorder after she scored within the normal range on all of their language testing. Basically, parents pay for the diagnosis. Whatever they went in thinking is what the child ends up having. So based on all of this, I did not have high hopes for Laynie to get much out of the appointment, especially with her being so ASL and Hopkins being famously anti-ASL. Well, I was wrong, and I was happy to be wrong.

The appointment was great!

Laynie's name was called, and I tapped her. The woman came over to introduce herself, and my interpreting hands went up.. and back down as the woman fingerspelled her own name. Then she signed, "I sign but lousy." It was English signing (L handshape for lousy.. hehe) but it was signing! She explained that she had requested an interpreter and was going to look for that person. Laynie was kind of anxious about that, because interpreters usually make it harder for her to communicate. Not harder than relying on lipreading and gestures, but harder than.. um.. me. Or writing. She usually gets, and I quote, "Stink terp." They miss half of what she says and don't ask her to repeat herself, just make stuff up to fill in the blanks. And they don't do much better with the English message. But, another happy surprise, the interpreter was good! He missed only about 5% of what she said, and I spoke up when it was important and let it go when it wasn't. He was so nice. I wonder if you can request specific interpreters or if it's just whoever the agency sends.

I thought that the woman Laynie would see was an SLP, but no, she was a teacher of the deaf. I'll call her the TOD. She was kind and patient, and she seemed genuinely interested in what Laynie had to say. The purpose of the consult was to determine Laynie's current level of performance with listening and spoken language, but mainly with listening. The TOD explained the four levels of listening:

1. Detection--you know that you hear something

2. Discrimination--you can tell whether it's this sound or that sound when given choices

3. Identification--you can tell which sound you hear (without choices--could be anything)

4. Comprehension--you understand what you hear

For example:

1. Someone says "see," and you raise your hand.

2. Someone gives you a paper with the words see and go on it and says "see," and you point to or say "see."

3. With no visuals, someone says "see," and you use your voice to repeat "see." When they ask you what word it was, you shrug.

4. Someone says "see," and you sign or voice "see," and you know that it means to look at something.

Jumping from level 1 to 2 isn't bad. From 2 to 3 is a bigger jump, and from 3 to 4 is a huge jump.

Before the testing, the TOD had Laynie fill out a short checklist using a Likert scale: 1 for almost never, 2 for rarely, 5 for practically always.. you get the picture. It focused on understanding language through listening without the person signing, and it had items like, "I have difficulty communicating in small groups," and "I become upset with my hearing skills." The TOD had me fill one out, too. I gave Laynie all 5s (as in, practically always difficult) except for the ones about becoming upset and it preventing her from making friends. We didn't look at each other's forms, but later we compared notes, and I think we answered pretty much the same.

The TOD asked questions about sounds Laynie doesn't like to hear, music she likes and why, etc. It seemed like she was mostly interested in Laynie's enjoyment of sound and making sure that if Laynie didn't like something or got frustrated, she was thinking about why that happened. She was surprised that Laynie reported being able to understand a few words and phrases over the telephone. Actually, she was surprised that Laynie understood anything without lipreading. She doesn't understand much, but occasionally she gets something. The TOD explained that she would do some closed set (given choices of answers) tasks and some open set (no answer choices--could be anything) tasks, and that Laynie should just roll with it and not worry if she couldn't do something. There were six tasks: one closed set detection task, three closed set discrimination tasks, and two open set identification/comprehension tasks.

All of the tests were done with the TOD's mouth obscured by an acoustic screen. It's just speaker fabric stretched over an embroidery hoop, but it does double duty: blocking all visuals but letting all sounds through without distortion (if you cover your mouth with your hand, you distort the sounds).

1. First was the Ling test. Laynie was already familiar with the Lings, because we've done them. There are six Ling sounds: ss, sh, mm, oo, ee, and ah. They are used as hearing checks, because they cover all of the speech frequencies from low (mm) to high (ss). Laynie correctly identified ss and sh. She got mm and mixed up the vowels. But the task was really just detection, so she got 100%--she just needed to hear them. I think identification was hard, because the TOD used a very quiet voice for all of the sounds. Much quieter than conversation level.

2. Laynie was given a page with three columns of words: single syllable, two-syllable, and four/five-syllable. For example, hot, table, qualification. The TOD would say a word from each row, and Laynie would have to tell which word she heard. She had to have one item repeated several times, but she got the rest correctly pretty quickly. There were about 20 items.

3. Laynie was given a page with sets of four sentences, such as:

A. She is ten years old.

B. Close the back door when you leave.

C. The man was eating a salad.

D. He went to work at nine o'clock.

So all of the sentences were pretty different. Laynie had the woman repeat the sentences several times and used process of elimination, which the TOD thought was a good strategy. Laynie missed one of the ten sentences.

4. For the fourth task, Laynie was given a page with 15 or 20 sentences. Each sentence had a "missing" word with two choices, such as:

His wife said he was all take/talk.

Laynie would have to tell which word was said. It was really hard, because the word choices had the same sounds at the beginning and end, with only the vowel being different (the spelling doesn't matter, just the sounds in the word). She got all of them right except one! I was shocked. We had worked on vowels last year, but we ended up skipping it and focusing on other things, because she just wasn't getting it. We haven't worked on it since then, but she has obviously made progress just from listening experience.

5. The fifth task was the first open-set task, and it certainly was harder. The TOD read simple sentences and questions, and Laynie was to say what she thought she heard. They were really common sentences, such as Turn on the TV and What time is it? I think Laynie was pretty nervous about that one. She got a couple of word right; she got "are you" in one of the sentences. I can't remember the rest of that sentence. But even when she missed all of the words, she was able to identify some sounds, and she always knew how many words and syllables were in the sentences. I was impressed that she recognized that Turn on the TV had five syllables but only four words. And she thought on was are. Pretty close.

6. The last task was one that the TOD thought would be harder than the fifth one, but as soon as she explained it, I knew Laynie would do better on it. It was imitation of what you hear. You would think that would be harder, but Laynie has become pretty good at imitating simple sounds/syllables. She doesn't know what they are, but she can parrot them. The TOD wanted Laynie not only to make the right sounds (or try to) but to try to get the suprasegmentals right: pitch, duration, number of repetitions, etc. So it might be a long, "Mmmmmmmm." Or a high and low alternating, "OOooOOooOOoo." Or just "bee." Laynie was able to get almost all of them with repetition. The Mmmmm was the first one, and Laynie shook an M handshape in front of her. Up until now, Laynie had not used her voice. She had signed back all of the responses. The TOD said, "Can you use your voice and try to say what I said?" So Laynie said a perfect, "Mmmmmmm." And the TOD's face lit up. She was shocked and amazed that Laynie could use her voice, and she commented on what a nice voice quality Laynie had. That was when she started to get excited. And she got more excited when Laynie imitated the high and low pitches on the OOooOOooOOoo. And when Laynie could make consonant sounds, like the S in see and the SH in shoe. The TOD exclaimed, "You have really good speech!"

She had been cheerful and giving off positive vibes the whole time, but after seeing how well Laynie did on the testing and the fact that she was able to make most speech sounds (Laynie can say everything except R, but she's not good at sequencing the sounds when there are more than two syllables--she'll start to omit sounds and substitute sounds), her demeanor changed. The only way I can describe it was excited. I know exactly how she feels: when you can tell a student has great potential, you become excited that you will be able to witness the progress. And Laynie looked so proud of herself. I knew that she was embarrassed to use her voice with the interpreter there, but she did a great job. The TOD thinks Laynie has great foundational skills and just needs some more practice. And confidence! And time. Laynie is able to identify many sounds (with repetition--but she'll get quicker at it with practice and time). The comprehension piece isn't really there yet, but it's starting to emerge. One weakness the TOD identified was auditory memory. Laynie might remember one sound from the word but forget what else she heard and need repetition. So of course there were weaknesses but so many strengths and positive indicators. The TOD thinks Laynie has the potential not just to enjoy what she hears but to understand what she hears.

Of course, I left the consult with a very happy girl. And I was happy for her. The TOD said that Laynie could continue to practice at home or come in weekly for therapy at The Listening Center. I am hoping Laynie will go weekly to The Listening Center (and I'm hoping she can see this particular person, because she seemed pretty realistic), because using her voice with someone who is not me or her mother will build her confidence. And I think it will keep her motivated to practice, knowing that someone will ask, "So how was practice this week?"

I am so glad Laynie went for this evaluation, and I am so proud of her for being willing to do everything the woman asked her to do. And I'm proud of her for the progress she has made!

Change Is Good?

2011-01-30T13:56:00.003-05:00

I've been teaching the 8- to 10-year-old Primary (junior Sunday school) class for the past few years. I had a challenging group last year and the year before, mainly because of two children with disruptive, disrespectful behavior. One was in my class two years ago, while he was 10 turning 11. He was supposed to be in the next class up, but he and another boy his age were too much together, so they put him in my class. The other boy was in my class while he was 8 turning 9 (a younger) and again last year while he was 9 turning 10 (an older). Last year, I had a particularly large class of nine children, including the one disrespectful child, one with moderately severe autism, and one with severe learning disabilities as well as behavior issues. The one with learning disabilities ended up being pulled out in March so that a teacher could work one on one with him, which improved his attitude, if not his gospel knowledge. The child with autism had spotty attendance. So my main challenge was the disrespectful child, who hated me (along with his parents and basically every adult on the planet). We got through it. Now he hates Sister Frye, and may heaven help her.

When I learned that I would continue teaching the 8- to 10-year-olds this year, I was excited, because a. the curriculum was the New Testament; b. I would have the youngers from last year's class, including one boy that I cherish; and c. the new youngers seemed like great kids. The child with autism and mister surly were both olders last year, so now they are youngers in the next class up, the 10- to 12-year-old class. As far as I knew, the child with learning disabilities would continue to have his one-on-one teacher.

The first Sunday of this year, I was surprised to fine him seated at the table (I have a long table in my room, so that the kids have somewhere to put their scriptures, which we make frequent use of) along with his age mates. Surprise! I ran and grabbed the Primary president to make sure he was in the right place, and she said, "Oh, I put him back in your class, so he'll be with you this year, thank you." Communication? Never mind.

That was challenging, and I had to stop the lesson many times to ask him to stop humming or moaning or poking his neighbor or what have you. But we made it through. One girl, a younger, apparently had different expectations on her last year, because she spent a lot of time chatting with neighbors. We had a little talk after class, and she was quite chastened. I chose her as a special helper the following week to make sure she knew I wasn't holding it against her, and she has been good as gold ever since. They all have.

I have the best class, seriously. I have eight kids: four boys and four girls. I love them all, even the ones I have only been teaching for a month. The curriculum is fantastic, and I've been chomping at the bit to get to the stories and parables. (So far we've talked about who Jesus is, and we had one lesson on John the Baptist.)

Today, before church started, the second counselor in the bishopric asked to talk to me. No! I gave a talk and said a prayer in sacrament fairly recently... maybe he wanted to talk about single adult activities (which are nonexistent, but they want me to go to the planning meetings for said nonexistent activities)? No, it was about callings. You guessed it: I'm not going to teach that class regularly anymore. Instead, I'm going to be a senior Primary (ages 7-12) permanent sub.

Of course, I agreed, but I felt like crying. I still feel like crying. I love my class so much, and I will miss them. We've bonded. They gelled faster than any class I've taught. As a contrast, last year's class took a good two months to gel.

I also got a new calling: ward organist. They already have a ward organist, but we're going to share the duties. I guess we'll alternate weeks or something; I need to talk with her about it. So now I'm interpreting, playing the organ, and sometimes teaching Primary. I like all of those things, and I'm willing to do them. Everyone seems to dismiss interpreting like it's no big deal, but it's by far the most demanding of the three. For me, anyway.

I'm really going to miss my class. It's so wrong, but I feel like no one else will teach them like I could. I'm worried that one will go down the dark path his older brother has (that 10/11-year-old I had two years ago? his older brother, who is 12 and has fallen in the abyss known as Young Men). I've built a strong relationship with the younger brother, though, and I can get him to do things like put down the hood of his hooded sweatshirt, read scriptures, and even sing. He's too cool for school--you know the type. Today he unslouched during sharing time, which is a first. I finally hit on a strategy that is working for him and another boy, that helps them behave appropriately during sharing time and even participate. I was really hoping to get this boy to meet with the bishop and talk about something that's been bothering him since last summer, and I'm a bit distressed that we haven't gotten to that point.

I will miss another boy so much, because he is just full of light. He's going to be a general authority, count on it. I've been in Primary for 10 or 15 years, in four different wards, and this is the most pure child I have ever encountered. He just wants to be good. He has grown into such an excellent student. In the past year, he has gone from a vacant-eyed, sit-and-nod-your-head automaton (I actually thought he had a low IQ when I first interacted with him) to an energetic, first-one-to-raise-a-hand risk-taker, who is developing faith and critical thinking skills. He has really blossomed, and I consider myself privileged to experience the transformation in him.

I will also miss a girl I have only been teaching for a month. Yup, one of the youngers. She is bright and loves to learn about the gospel. She wasn't in my class last year, but I guess she has learned a lot at home. That is not at all a given--none of the others seem to know anything that I haven't told them. Poor memory for things their parents say, I guess. But not this girl: she's on the ball. We were talking today about some of the things that Mary and Joseph were told about Jesus before he was born. One was that Jesus would reign over Jacob. So I asked, "Who is Jacob?" We reviewed the lineage of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (the olders studied the Old Testament last year, but this was new information for the youngers), and I crossed out Jacob's name, explaining that it was changed to something else. To what? This little girl about fell out of her seat, waving her hand. And she knew the answer! Israel. She reminds me of myself: often knowing the answer and eager to say it, but keeping quiet if not totally sure of herself. Especially with the "what do you think about..." and "why do you suppose..." questions. But she is starting to take risks and describe her line of thought or give a good guess, not just try to predict what I want her to say. She is developing rapidly. Who wouldn't want to teach a child like that?

There are five more that I enjoy and will miss. I realize that not teaching every week is a blessing, that it means I can go to Sunday School (which I LOVE)... And I can visit the ward that has a deaf teenager and people who sign, which Laynie desperately needs.... But I grieve to leave the children I love. This class was my reward for making it through the last two years without wringing anyone's neck!

But I am looking forward to playing the organ, and I'm happy that Laynie will get what she needs sometimes. And I am very much looking forward to the times that my kids' new teachers are absent and I get to sub for their class.

Ski Lesson

2011-01-21T22:13:00.004-05:00

This is totally gratuitous (hm, come to think of it, all of my blog posts are.. they're for me, sorry people), but I don't want to forget what I'm supposed to work on. I'll lose a paper note, but I don't think I'll lose a blog post. :)

I am working on keeping my upper body facing downhill and letting my legs move out to the sides.

I am working on keeping my hands up and not dropping my uphill hand on turns. Driving forward with my hands.

I am working on pole plants--light, out to the side and a little forward. Wrist action, not arm action.

I am working on choosing my path on a mogul field.

I am working on pole plants on the tops of the bumps, letting motor memory help me with mogul field turns.

Ugh. It's a lot to remember! I went skiing after work today and took a lesson. Glad I did, because I learned a lot. Holy cow. Usually they give you one thing to work on, but this guy piled it on. That's cool.

Oh, the tray of food exercise helped me with my turns and remembering to face downhill and keep my hands up (tied everything together!). Hold poles together across hands with arms at chest level, don't tip the tray and spill the food.

The shuffle exercise might help with balance. When cutting across the hill, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle the feet.

Weight 60% downhill ski, 40% uphill ski. (Sigh, not happening here.. more like 75/25.)

As always, I'm working on staying forward. Especially on steeps.

Basically, I pick one or things to work on at the same time. There is so much happening so quickly; I know that I have to get the techniques into muscle memory.

2011-01-21T21:50:00.005-05:00

You know my little mute student? I'm referring to the one who speaks ("in paragraphs," per mom) at home but gives everyone else suspicious stares when they try to interact with her. Right, that one. She's making great progress!

I think Betsy would be a good name for her.

Betsy makes comments to me during circle time, like, "My Dabby idoo!" Translation: My Gabby igloo. She's kind of hard to understand, but I'm not even bringing up articulation until she's comfortable with talking. I asked, "Oh, Gabby made an igloo like that one in the book?" "No, daddy." Daddy made an igloo for Gabby. (Go dad!) So she's volunteering information, which we call initiating; and she is answering questions, which we call responding. IEP goals, check and check. Betsy has goals to initiate and respond consistently with at least three different adults (not counting family).. and at least three different kids in the class. Well, that second part is not really happening, unless you count screams of, "No!" "Stop!" or "Mine!" while pushing/hitting/grabbing. It's a work in progress.

I just love this sober, perpetually stressed-out, little child. She got into my heart very quickly and is one of my favorites.

Here's a little gem from one of my deaf students. He gets into little obsessions, and last month it was pencils. They MUST be shark. After a brief glance at a pencil, he'd say, "It's not shark. I need to shark it." Maybe he was just looking for an excuse to use the totally cool, electric pencil sharpener. Whatever, I let him. Who am I to judge a boy's need for shark pencils?

Did That Kid Just Give Me the Punk Test?

2011-01-20T21:59:00.003-05:00

I was at a Head Start preschool this morning, where I see an adorable little boy.. whose mother is a hooker. Literally. So my little guy, Jeans, had some bruises and scratches, as always, and I asked him what happened. First he said he fell down. Then he said he was fighting with his brother. Another kid, Sweatshirt, piped up to say that he's really strong and a good fighter. They're barely four years old.

I made it clear that fighting is not cool at all, that it does not mean you are strong. Sweatshirt wandered away, and Jeans was interested in continuing the conversation. The fighting at his house (there are 8 kids between the mother and her sister, who is also a hooker--grandma's their pimp) was really getting to him.

While we sat on the floor talking, Sweatshirt walked behind me and pressed down on my right shoulder--not hard but in a way that didn't seem accidental. I gave him a look and said, "Make sure you have nice hands." I went right back to my conversation with Jeans.

About a minute later, Sweatshirt poked a finger into my left arm, HARD. He was standing next to me with a stony expression on his face. I gave him my best I'm-a-teacher-and-I-mean-business look and asked, "Are you having nice hands with me?"

"Huh-uh," he responded, and I could see the challenge in his eyes. This four-year-old was ready to throw down with me!

I gave him a stern talking-to and let him know in no uncertain terms that this kind of behavior is completely unacceptable and he cannot treat me that way. The classroom aide (I'm itinerant, just there half an hour a week to work with Jeans) realized that something was up, and she made Sweatshirt sit on the carpet for a while before he could choose a center (play area). He sat there totally unfazed. Then she gave him a talking to. Our words made no impact. This kid has the demeanor of a hardened criminal.

As he was doing his time on the carpet, I realized that pressing on my right shoulder was the punk test... and I had flunked it.

I learned about the punk test from Patrice O'Neal, who plays the warehouse guy on The Office. He explained it on the Opie & Anthony radio show. I can't do the punk test justice like Patrice can, so I don't want to explain it myself.

This show uses foul language--consider yourself warned.

Zoku

2011-01-19T07:04:00.003-05:00

What's a Zoku, you ask? Oh, you are such an unfortunate person.

Zoku is like an ice cream machine bowl, the kind that you put in the freezer overnight and then use in the machine. Except this "bowl" has three slots for making pops. Yes, it's as amazing as it sounds. McConn got one for Christmas, and we were making apple, orange, and grape juice pops while I was in New York.

When I got one myself, we really got to the business of making pops. Fancy ones! There are recipes you can make, such as Bananaberry, and Strawberry Banana, and Orange Creamsicle, which are what we made the first time we tried it out. Soooo good. You throw some fruit in the blender, with either sugar or agave nectar (like sugar but lower glycemic index), along with lemon juice or yogurt or vanilla or whatever. Then pour it in the molds. Well, you do have to strain the seeds out first if you're using berries.

Katie and I love Zoku pops!

Heck, we all do!

Later we made mint pops with chocolate magic shell. I thought they weren't too bad, but Laynie thought they were bitter from the peppermint oil. So I modified the recipe, and it worked out much better. Here is what I made up:

1/2 c half and half

1 c whole milk

3 Tb agave nectar (try the natural/organic area of the supermarket)

1/2 tsp vanilla

3/4 tsp mint extract

1/4 tsp peppermint

pinch of salt

3 drops of green food coloring

I also added a tablespoon of sweetened condensed milk, but I'm not sure it needed that. It was maybe too creamy, kind of hard to get out of the mold. Next time I'll make it without that.

Vacation

2011-01-19T06:42:00.003-05:00

I went to New York for a few days over Christmas break, and I saw my teeny, tiny, little Peanut (Hi Morgie!). She keeps getting less tiny. Actually, she's almost 11.

Here is what Morgan wanted to do pretty much all the time:

iPad awsomeness definitely had her in its thrall. Unfortunately, her brother and sister were similarly enthralled, and adult intervention was warranted more than once. I do not have any pictures of Carson and McConn, because I was the worst picture-taker ever on this trip. I took a couple of pictures of Morgan while I was packing to go home, and that was it. Sad.

I had fun skiing with Morgan at the little place ten minutes from their house. And I had fun working on the LiPS program, to help Morgan improve her literacy skills. English spelling certainly is tricky. McConn also worked with me, but Carson refused. Tearfully. Real, dramatic, soul-wrenching tears, that he would not be made to improve his reading and spelling skills.

We saw Yogi Bear 3D, which seemed enjoyable for people under four feet tall. I watched most of it 2D, because I'm a wimp: 3D makes me feel almost like motion sickness. The best part of the movie was that we went with Sue and Jane and the boys; it was great to see them.

Basically, I had a really good trip.

A cute little Peanut

Skiing

2011-01-19T06:39:00.002-05:00

Skiing is my favorite thing in the world lately. I love it!

Laynie took a video of me skiing down an easy black. I'm the one in the Barney-purple jacket, hard to tell at the beginning. I slow down because I feel someone right on my tail, and I nearly stop, trying to figure out why he doesn't just pass me. Turns out he only has one leg.. whatever. So that's me--the slow one.

Skiing

2010-12-25T14:51:00.004-05:00

Katie, Laynie, and I went skiing yesterday. I recorded my girls!

And Laynie recorded Katie and me... plus some.

So it's an easy hill... Who's going to videotape on a steep one? ;)

Who, Me?

2010-12-18T21:37:00.001-05:00

I went skiing today, and they were offering $10 group lessons. Score!

I was the only person in Level 5, so they combined me with the three people in Level 6. I wasn't too comfortable with that, but we had two instructors, and they promised to split up the group once they had seen us ski. I was saying that I ski parallel turns but prefer greens (easier runs). The two kids said they ski blacks, which is what every kid says. They still skied in a wedge. The other woman said she skis blues.

They took us straight to the highest part of the mountain. I was reeeeally hoping we would ski down the one green that is up there. The instructors were planning on blue. I made it clear that I was nervous about that. I know it's all in my head but whatever.

One of the instructors, a guy probably 5 or 10 years older than I, said, "You can handle blue. I can tell by your eyes." Eh? It sure isn't confidence you're seeing! While I was processing that, he continued, "You have beautiful blue eyes."

Who, me?

It's been years since anybody flirted with me. That was so not on my radar. Somehow I ended up with him when the group split, and it was the best lesson ever. I got plenty of attention. I kind of felt badly for the other woman, who got less attention, found out that although she was skiing blues her technique was wrong, and got plowed down by a reckless snowboarder.

That guy kept flirting with me and giving me way too much praise. Haha. I totally encouraged it, because I'm usually ignored during group lessons. I improved a lot today. I'm now a solid level 6! Last week I was Level 4. :) I think I'll request that guy if he's available next time.

Opeibea

2010-12-14T19:03:00.006-05:00

A few weeks ago, I was visiting one of my kiddos that I see as an itinerant teacher. I'll call her Hattie. She's a hearing child who is pretty much caught up with her language... except for her social language. She can use her words pretty ruthlessly, without really meaning to hurt others. I'm not sure how much she recognizes that others have feelings like she does.

On this day, Hattie sat down to do a puzzle, and her little friend from class, Opeibea, wanted to join in. She picked up a piece and said, "Hattie, I'll help you." Hattie grabbed the piece and responded, "No, don't touch it!" Opeibea said, "Why?" Hattie answered, "Because I hate you."

Hattie does not hate Opeibea. They play together every day and have a great time. She just wanted to play alone at that moment, and she said what she thought would make Opeibea leave her alone, without considering Opeibea's feelings.

But Opeibea did not leave her alone, nor did she strike back after the hurtful comment. With a concerned expression on her face, she gently said, "Is it me?"

This exchange has stuck with me, and I keep thinking what a good example Opeibea set, and how I want to be more like this 4-year-old child.

Proud of My Boys

2010-12-11T19:40:00.007-05:00

Earlier this week, my deaf kiddos went with all the first graders to a play, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. The classroom interpreter went up separately, because she wanted to look over the script and music beforehand. The teacher of the deaf and I rode on the bus with the kids.

So the kids had not seen the interpreter that morning when they got to school. We got them unpacked and set up with their FM receivers, and then it was time to get on the bus.

When we got to the theater and got our kids seated (in the third row, while their poor hearing classmates were up in nosebleed), arranging Oil and Water so they were not sitting next to each other... My superstar boy happily greeted the interpreter and watched as she and I discussed where she would stand. The theater company had her way off to the side, which is totally unrealistic--like a first grader is going to look away from the action on stage for a second. Hm, a dancing mouth, a talking dog, and a wolf that loses his teeth all over the stage... or the interpreter that I see every day. Yeah. We got that changed.

When the interpreter was set and the kids were positioned so they could all see her (no grown-up heads blocking them), Superstar waved to get her attention and signed, "Interpret? You interpret?" When she said yes, he smiled.

The poor child thought he'd have to try to make sense of the action without the benefit of language, like in other non-school situations. I don't think he realized that interpretation was even possible outside of school.

That was sad, but I was happy at the same time, because he demonstrating understanding of the concept of interpretation. Oh, how I have worked on that! Our assigned interpreter is frequently absent, which is sort of frustrating, but I'm making lemonade. When different interpreters walk into the classroom, three of the kids could not care less, but this child is always interested in learning their names (signs and spelling). He is quite outgoing, introducing his deaf peers and me to the interpreters. The interpreters are always charmed by this brilliant and very big-D Deaf child. And I take a minute to emphasize, "So-and-so is not here today. So-and-so will not interpret. Today we have a substitute interpreter. Whatever-her-name-is will interpret." I guess somewhere along the way, those explanations clicked!

On a side note, our most oral child shocked me while we were at the play. I had the two boys sitting near me, which gave me the little superstar and the oral boy, who happens to be visually impaired. And have fine motor difficulty. And appear generally clumsy and immature. He rarely signs, and when he does, it's usually inaccurate, such as "bathroom" with an A or N handshape, "fun" with an R handshape, or "math" that frankly looks like the sign for "celebrate." But he's always happy, and he's a lot of fun. He's also the noisiest deaf child you'll ever meet. He loves to ask questions, and any instructions given will be met with a quick, "Why?"

During the play, he kept asking questions, like, "Why that dog sad?" and "What the mom said?" so I encouraged him to watch the interpreter. And I shushed him. Frequently. I guess he really wanted to talk to me, because he SIGNED, "What next?" The child knows the sign "next." And produced it clearly.

He signed, "Mom what-do?" You know, the "do-do" sign, not the "action/doing" sign--as in, the correct sign for the context.

We have worked on answering "what doing" questions for over a year, using that very sign. He rarely looks at us, seems to depend completely on his CI for language. When his processor broke last month, he stared at us like he had never seen ASL before as we explained that we couldn't get it working and mom would have to call his audiologist. And he knows "do-do"!!! Little stinker.

The teacher of the deaf likes to remind everyone that this boy is more with it than he shows, and she is soooo right.

Little stinker.

Sick Day = Ski Day

2010-12-10T15:43:00.014-05:00

I've had a sore throat since Tuesday, and yesterday morning I woke up with palms that were funkifying and ready to peel. In my family, this is a sure sign of strep, so I went to the doctor. The rapid strep test was negative, but she was confident that I have it or at least something communicable, so I was ordered not to be in close contact with people for 24 or preferably 48 hours after starting antibiotics. At first I was upset, knowing that I would miss a Thursday, which is my insanely busy day, and that particular day happened to include a planned observation by the head of sped and an IEP meeting. Then I realized... I have to take a sick day, but (aside from a sore throat) I feel fine. Score!

So I went skiing. Wouldn't you?

It was a beautiful opening day at Whitetail Resort, in PA.

Not all the runs were open yet. Fake snow, natch.

So ready to ski!

Of course I dragged my bug with me.

It started snowing... from the ground up?

Yeah, it was just the cannons.

The place was dead. It was so nice having the mountain pretty much to yourself!

Laynie got a helmet this year. The chances of getting hit on an implant site is low, but it's not worth the risk. the helmet fits with her processors on (hooray for small Med-El processors), which is nice. She doesn't have to worry about them falling off and getting skied on. The goggles are also new. They are meant to fit over glasses, which means she can see where she is going. Bonus.

After two runs down the hill, Laynie was dead.

Hehe, she can't smile with her goggles on.

Better!

More ski! More ski!

I Learned So Much!

2010-11-24T09:03:00.002-05:00

I went to the ASHA Convention, which is for speech-language pathologists and audiologists (OK, mainly for SLPs). They have seminars, poster sessions where people present research and you wander around chatting with them, info sessions for masters and doctoral programs, vendor booths with tons of free junk (pens, bags, lip balm--I got a pen/bubble wand for my selective mute kiddo), ummm... career fair... just lots of stuff. I was mainly interested in the seminars/classes and the doctoral program information.

This year the conference was in Philadelphia, which I had never been to before. Never touched.

I learned three things at the convention:

1. I hate Philadelphia. I didn't mean to... it just happened.

2. I miss interacting with brilliant people.

3. I MUST get a doctorate.

Yes, it's a must. So now I'm looking at PhD programs. It stinks, because you can't really choose where you're going to go, like hm, I enjoy Maryland, I'll just go to University of Maryland. Uh-uh. You have to go where there is someone doing research in your area of interest. One of my areas of interest is phonology, and the phonology guru is at Wichita State. That's in Kansas! My understanding is that they don't have a beach there.

I actually met said guru at the conference. Totally unexpected.

I was in the poster hall, and one caught my eye, something about phonological errors of cochlear implant users. As the young master's student was explaining her thesis to me, I noticed the other name on the poster: PHONOLOGY GURU. Well, actually, her name is Barbara Hodson. Whoa, Dr. Hodson was your mentor for this project? I looked at the name tags of everyone who looked over age 50 and lo and behold, she was right nearby! Of course I had to accost her and babble on about how much I love her work, that I use her phonology program all the time. She hugged me.

So I have one contact in the academic world. I mean, besides the BYU faculty. But BYU doesn't have a doctoral program in my field, so that's not an option. Y'all know how I feel about Utah, but I'd probably choose it over Kansas. It's the devil I know.

Hopefully I can find a program somewhere that I won't totally hate, but even if I don't, it's only for four years.

I went to a lot of seminars on auditory processing, which was great. I learned so much! I went to one on motor speech disorders, only because my favorite BYU professor, the best teacher in the whole wide world, Dr. Dromey, was one of the presenters. I took down some "DromeyQuotes" for my friend Rachelle. We used to write down the acerbic, very British things he says--think Hugh Grant humor. Or whoever writes for Hugh Grant. Here are a couple for you:

-Now you're thinking, "My larynx doesn't make yogurt."

-We'll blame those vocal folds for not doing the honorable thing.

A woman presenting in the same session as Dr. Dromey was also kind of funny. I took down a quote from her:

-This can make your life more blissful or miserable. I'm always on the side of bliss.

I guess you have to realize that the words surrounding these quotes include hyolaryngeal, dysarthric, obturator, musculature, hypokinetic, nasalance, prosthedontic, formant frequencies, articulatory specification, and vocal tract configurations. Blogger's spell checker doesn't think half of those words even exist. Then someone starts saying how the larynx makes plain yogurt... refreshing. The idea, not yogurt. The bliss quote was in the context of considerations for palatal lift recommendations for patients with velopharyngeal port incompetence. Now you're thinking I'm crazy for even saying that I enjoyed the conference. Really, I did.

I went to several sessions on cochlear implants/aural habilitation. One presentation absolutely blew AVT out of the water. It was fantastic. And I saw a stupid AVT from Johns Hopkins there, who recommended not signing with a newly implanted SEVEN YEAR OLD whose family DOESN'T SPEAK ENGLISH. And who had only been signing for a year (do the math... that's right, no language until nearly age six). When we asked how we would educate the child without being able to communicate with him, she said that listening skills were more important than education. Hopefully she took in some of what that session was saying.

One other session was on differential diagnosis (figuring out what's wrong) of cochlear implant kids who have other problems. They're implanting kids so early that they don't know what challenges the child is going to face in addition to deafness. They also don't know who is going to be successful with listening and spoken language. This was from the AVTs at Children's Hospital of Philadelphia. Interesting (and sad): CHOP doesn't implant unless they think the person will develop spoken language. If they think the person will need to use sign language, they won't do the surgery. I guess they wouldn't have implanted my seven year old international student. Even with their stringent criteria for implantation, and given intensive AVT (auditory verbal therapy--teaching deaf kids to listen and not use any lipreading), only 25% of kids become "primarily listening and spoken language" kids. Fifty percent use listening and lipreading. Twenty-five percent use listening and lipreading but primarily sign language. Hm, so one out of four kids who they thought would become a good listener and who had intensive AVT ended up using primarily sign language... wouldn't those kids be so far behind in ASL development by the time they begin it that they'll always struggle in school? I don't even want to think about it. And I was surprised that only 25% end up being AVT poster children. The session did have a lot of useful information, and I was glad I went.

The whole conference as a whole was very enjoyable to me. I took copious notes and am now happier in my job, knowing that the world is much bigger than the insanity currently surrounding me. This too shall pass, and I will be on to bigger and better things, like teaching at a university. It's going to happen.

This Is Kid Is So All Mine

2010-11-24T08:52:00.004-05:00

OK, that kiddo with selective mutism? I've got her right where I want her... bwahahahaha!

I stopped by her house yesterday just to drop off an IEP draft. This is a good thing: we're modifying the IEP because she's going to start preschool on Monday. Yay! And I'm going to stay with her the whole morning, just to make sure things start off on the right foot.

I ended up chatting on the front porch with her mom, while Little Miss and Big Sis ran around the front yard. They were racing across the yard to jump in a leaf pile, then back to the fence to say hi to their dog. Every time Little Miss ran past us, she yelled, "Hello!" Well, more like, "Ewo!" Apparently she has a Cockney accent and also can't say her L's. It don't make you a bad person.

I don't know who she was yelling to, Mom or me, but I acted like it was to me and answered back, "Hello!" every time. She thought it was funny. She came over to me and pointed at the dog. I pretended not to know whose dog that was and she said, "Crockett buddy boy!" Yup, she talked to me.

As I was leaving, she came running at me, full speed, and I bent down to her level. Without even slowing her stride, she scooped up some leaves and threw them on me. You can't say she doesn't have personality! Poor Mom was mortified. Please, I've had much worse than leaves on me in preschool. Leaves don't stink or stain!

I threw them right back at Little Miss, and we had a little leaf war.

I love this kid!

She Talked to Me!

2010-11-06T06:29:00.003-04:00

I know, I'm all about work lately.

I have this little girl with selective mutism, meaning that she is basically very choosy about whom she will talk to. She spoke to no one until about 6 months ago (she is three), and now it's just immediate family. She does talk to grandma but stopped for a few weeks after grandma moved to a different apartment. Yeah, she's easily rattled and takes time to warm up. She was in the EB problem (birth to three) for about a year, with weekly SLP visits, and she said a total of one word to the EB SLP. "Yeah" slipped out once. She's a tough nut to crack!

This is the little girl who got kicked out of nursery school for not being potty trained, who languished for six or seven weeks without services until I got the ball rolling about a month ago. I've been out to see the child three times now. I actually look forward to it, because my whole goal for the visits is to build a rapport with the child--and give mom strategies--but mainly to develop a relationship. I need the child to like me and trust me. I don't need to build "therapy" into things, just focus on having FUN. How awesome is that?

I had mom use her camera phone to record the child talking, to "surprise" me with when I came for my second visit. The child loved my first visit, because I am an insane person with no sense of embarrassment when playing with a three-year-old. I don't care that mom is watching. If it gets the child to talk, I'll make a fool of myself! Apparently Little Miss told her family a million times that week about throwing monkeys and laughing with Miss Annie while she (that would be me) made crazy monkey sounds. When mom told me that, I knew Little Miss would talk to me. I didn't think it would be so soon!

When I walked in the door for my second visit, the child ran at me full speed, skidded to a stop right in front of me, waved a drawing at me, and said, "Daddy!"

That was great... but she said not a word for the next 30 minutes.

The reason I had mom record the child and let me watch it was so that the child's "secret" would be out, and one barrier to talking to me would be removed. I hoped it would speed up the process from a year of not talking to me (though I hoped that my awesomeness would get things moving more quickly than the very vanilla EB SLP did) to mere months of not talking to me. The video started (audio only.. mom wisely hid the camera in her lap), and I heard Little Miss singing her ABCs. Adorable! I acted all excited about it and asked Little Miss (who had grabbed the camera, enthralled by her own talent) to play the video again. I just enjoyed it so much. She did, and then she flipped through the videos and found one of herself cleaning up with daddy, and she said, "Daddy clean up abba flabba blah bee famma mappa!" Yeah. I understood about a quarter of what she said. That was disheartening. But she was talking! To me! And she kept talking for the next 10 minutes. Unfortunately, when I said it was time for me to leave, the light left her face. She shut down and wouldn't say good-bye when mom prompted.

She didn't talk on the third visit, because the educator was with me. It was really disappointing, but not unexpected. I would say the chances of this child talking the first time she meets someone are zero to none. But she talked to me!

Save the Mods for Somebody Who Needs Them

2010-11-06T06:14:00.004-04:00

The other day I was giving a math test to two children. Bet you wouldn't expect an SLP to be giving a math test! We do a lot of role sharing. :) So I'm giving this math test to two of the deaf kiddos, and I had the visuals used in class available for them during the test. I was letting them work at their own pace and presenting individual directions for each item, and the boy got to the story problems the girl. I began to set out the visuals for "in all (+)" and "left (-)" but he shooed them away, tapping his head to indicate his intelligence and saying, "I know it, I don't need those. Give them to [girl's name], she doesn't know it."

Picture the sign for "ego." Yeah. But you have to respect his confidence!

Kids These Days

2010-11-04T07:11:00.002-04:00

Yesterday my kiddos were having a stimulating discussion on pets during their hour-long group pull out. I had read a silly story about a boy wanting a polar bear and a shark and a bison for a pet, and we talked about what real pets people have. The TOD has asked their parents about their pets and heard back from all but one (our highest kid--he can answer for himself), so we knew what pets they have. This is important whenever we talk to our kids, because some people will say "Yes" no matter what you ask them.

I'm going to call myself S (for speech or for "Saysee" as one child calls me, since my name is Hasting). T = teacher of deaf.

Child Circle has a cat.

S: Circle, do you have a pet?

C: Cat.

T: What is your cat's name?

C: (Fingerspells) C-A-T.

T: No, your cat's name is Tara. [We did think the name was Cat all last year... sigh..]

Child Triangle has two cats and two rats.

S: Triangle, do you have a pet?

Tr: [Holds up four fingers--great ASL listing!] Cat cat rat rat. [Signs this while pointing to fingers in the opposite direction used for ASL listing, starting with the pinky. Alrighty.]

That's okay, because she answered the question, and she was CORRECT.

Child Square does not have a pet, but I remember that he told me before that he had a fish over the summer that died. Big brother flushed it down the toilet.

T: Square, do you have a pet?

Sq: (signs) No, me none.

T: You had a pet before, though. You had a fish.

Sq: Fish me none.

S: Past. Remember? Fish died?

Sq: [Comprehension dawns on his face] Yes, fish died.

S: Fish color what? Fish black?

Sq: Fish orange. One (shakes head) six!

S: You had six fish!

T: Do you want a pet?

Sq: No. Pet me don't-like.

S: Same.

T: OK, write about your six fish.

So Square drew and wrote about his six dearly departed goldfish.

Oval has never had a pet. We were going to let him write about a pet he wants.

S: Oval, do you have a pet?

O: Yes.

T: No, you don't.

O: Yes, I do.

T: What kind of pet do you have?

O: A dog. [He says this every time they bring up pets in the classroom]

T: You do not have a dog.

O: Yes I do!

S: Where is it?

O: At home.

S: Where at home? In the living room?

O: In my bedroom.

S: Does it stay in your bedroom?

O: Yes. It's on my bed.

S: That is a toy. You have a toy dog. It's not real. Do you have a real pet?

[Sqare is looking disdainfully at Oval, and Circle is thinking this is great fun.]

O: Yes. I have a dog.

C: No!!

[TOD shows him a picture of her dogs and explains that they are "real dogs." She gets a stuffed zebra and asks..]

T: Is this a real zebra?

O: Yes.

C: No!!

[Triangle is really annoyed, so she blocks her eyes so that she cannot see Oval.]

T: This is not a real zebra. This is a toy zebra.

S: Oval, you have a toy dog. You do not have a real dog.

O: Yes, I do. I have a real dog.

[Square rolls his eyes]

Sq: No. Wrong you.

S: A real dog? A real dog eats. Does your dog eat dog food? Does your dog drink water? Does your dog bark? Does your dog go outside and go pee and poop?

C: Poop in butt! [points to her behind]

S: Yes, poop does come from your butt. Good thinking, Circle.

Yes, I actually said that! I guess I'm so used to responding to everything the kids say. The conversation pretty much unraveled at that point. TOD and I were laughing, and the paraeducator was so proud of Circle for knowing something. She spoke truly!

Oval can pretend a lot with his toy dog, but surely he does not bring it outside and pretend it is relieving itself! I thought my rhetorical skills would win out, but he continued to insist that he has a real dog.

The writing prompt on the board was "My pet is..."

Square wrote, "My pet is fish. water in fish six orange fish." He was writing ASL, setting the scene with a rhetorical question: "What's in the water? Fish. Six orange fish."

Triangle, who had apparently been inspired by Square to draw her own deceased fish, wrote, "My pet is cat rat. fish. cat scare run." I am not at all surprised that her cats get scared and run away from her. That was mostly independent, although I helped her find the pages in the ASL dictionary for scare and run, because she didn't know the beginning letters.

Circle wrote, "My pet is cat taRa." Cat is Brown and BLack."

Oval wrote, "My pet is a yellow and blacK dog."

And we said, "This is a nice sentence. Fix your K. Lowercase."

Budding Pianists

2010-10-25T06:47:00.001-04:00

Since rearranging the living and dining rooms last week, we're using our stuff more. The piano is now in the dining room, and Laynie and I have both played it several times over the past week. Yup, Laynie plays the piano. She's learning.

Practicing...

Katie (my sister) was over on Sunday, and I had Laynie teach Katie while I cooked dinner. Teaching is the best way to cement your skills, right?

Laynie explains note values to Kate.

Good teacher! Good student!

Yay, She's Oral!

2010-10-20T19:28:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I wonder how much my students with CIs hear--or more like how much they miss. One student that I like to call "Glued-To-Me" showed me recently how much guesswork she's doing on a daily basis.

A couple of weeks ago, I was reading (over several days) the Knuffle Bunny trilogy. I highly recommend these books, if you have not read them. In the first book, toddler Trixie and her daddy, who live in Manhattan, take their clothes to the laundromat, where they (gasp!) lose Trixie's stuffed bunny. The TOD and I spent some time discussing laundry and explaining what a laundromat is. We showed the children pictures, sequenced the process of doing laundry... I thought Favorite, Obsessed, and Oblivious had it, but Glued? You just never know. So I'm reading the book (using a combination of ASL, spoken English, and Sim-Com), and I got to the part where they go to the laundromat and load the washing machines. I asked the children, "Where did they go?" Favorite answered right away, signing "Laundry store," which was what I had dubbed the laundromat. Oblivious spoke, "Laundry." Close enough. I made Obsessed imitate my signs: "Laundry store" (she's not really a fan of communication). Glued's turn. Yes, she had seen/heard the answer three times (after I said it to begin with). I always ask her last, to give her a fighting chance at getting the right answer. Or at least close. And what, you must wonder, was her answer?

She signed and spoke... "Math."

Technically, she signed Math and spoke Mat. She can't say "th."

I guess you could confuse laundromat and math... if you completely ignored all the signing... sigh.

Today, we discussed Halloween, practicing describing words, such as, "scary ghost," "orange pumpkin," "furry bat." The kids were really into it. Every time you say the word Halloween, Glued says, "Hae-uh Tae-uh." Hannah Montana. Her costume. "This month is October. Soon it will be Hallo--" "Hae-uh Tae-uh." It's kind of cute how excited she is to be Hannah Montana.

So we used this simple book, Boo Who?, to work on the describing and on answering "who" questions... TOD took notes. The kids LOVE this, because she writes down what they say. As always, I did the reading, using both languages (sim-com or consecutively). After the book, I was describing things and having them look on the board (or use their brains!) to figure out what I was talking about. "It's white and scary. It says boo! It can fly." Glued said, "Gote!" I turned to her to correct her articulation, only to see that she had signed it as well... and her little V hand was on her forehead.

She was saying goat. Not mispronouncing ghost. Goat.

I would think that she would wonder how goats fit into Halloween, but I suppose there's so much she doesn't understand that she's used to things not making sense.

I like CIs, because the kids like them. Oblivious was heartbroken and became practically catatonic the day he broke his in PE. He cannot handle silence. Laynie loves her CIs, doesn't go a day without them--even though she is and always will be primarily an ASL user.

But it worries me when parents have their kids rely only on the cochlear implants for language development, because they are NOT like hearing people's hearing. Many kids do very well, but there will always be things they miss, and I hate to see guesswork involved in education. And yes, I suppose that there is more going on with Glued than just deafness... most deaf kids would at least pick up on the signs. She's just so used to relying on her hearing, because that's what she did as a toddler and preschooler (family only signs when her CIs are off, preschool program was TC but heavy on talking). Plus, she's mainstreamed nearly all day. Although there is an interpreter around, I think very little of what the interpreter says is comprehensible to her--too advanced, trying to meet Obsessed and Favorite's needs, and their language is a couple of years ahead of Glued's. Glued is definitely more attuned to her hearing than her vision for language. And now for education. But her hearing is not cutting it!

I will say what I've said in the past: Deaf kids need ASL.

{stepping off my soapbox}

Now that I'm off my soapbox, I want to write an addendum entitled "Good Things about Glued."

-She is very responsible. If she knows what to do or where to go, she is all over it.

-She is always happy to see me, especially on Thursdays, when I come to her school just for the afternoon. I feel like a celebrity walking in, the way she exclaims "Haytee!!" and nearly hyperventilates. (My name is Hasting, in case you couldn't tell. ;)

-She becomes beside herself with excitement when we both have a ponytail on the same day.

-She feels guilty when she answers wrong (I don't know if this is good so much as endearing).

-She wants to mother the other kids, especially Oblivious. She can often be found herding him to where he ought to be. Or waving at us and pointing to him, wrinkling up her nose. "Mammin no wur." [Name] no work. Her artic is so bad, I'm not even worried you'd get his real name from that. Sigh.

-She has a decent moral compass for a 6-year-old (although she has been known to smack kids who don't follow her motherly directives... hehe).

-She loves to be helpful--passing out pencils is her specialty.

-She is understanding of Obsessed's moods, often shrugging and giving me a wry smile when Obsessed snaps at her.

-She always wants to hold my hand and sit in my lap. She is very direct about it, too, pointing at my legs and saying, "Ap," or threading her little fingers into mine. Unfortunately, I can't let her... but it's the thought that counts.

-She looks up to her big sister SO MUCH. Apparently, she will sit and do "homework" with Mom for hours, as long as sis (several years older) is doing hers.

-Her smile always brightens my day.

Upsetting

2010-10-20T14:25:00.002-04:00

Favorite almost started crying Monday morning, saying that his right CI (pointing to the internal device, just anterior of where the coil sits) was hurting and itching. He had tears in his little eyes. We tried to send him home, but his parents could not be reached. Of course, I got in touch with his district audiologist (Ski Bum) right away, and she forwarded my email to the child's Johns Hopkins audiologist. I'll call her Useless. We heard nothing from Useless, and Favorite soldiered through the rest of the day.

On Tuesday, I stopped by before care (babysitting before school) to check on Favorite, who reported that his head hurts and itches still. I had a 504 meeting before school, so I went right into that. As the meeting finished, the teacher of the deaf came to the door to speak with me and Ski Bum, because favorite was now sitting in the nurse's office, in tears. He said it's red, it hurts, and it itches. Ugh. It actually was not red, but I understand that feeling. The nurse was annoyed that she couldn't get in touch with the family, as always. We finally got someone at the factory where dad works, and the guy agreed to track down dad and get him to call us. In the meantime, Ski Bum and I had Favorite try his implant turned off but stuck to his head, totally off his head, etc., just trying to see if anything made it better. And I was trying to ask him if it hurt when he woke up that morning. He said it did. It hurt all the time but was made worse by the processor being turned on.

He did end up going home that day. We tried to convey to his Baba that this is a BIG DEAL, and that he needs medical attention. To his credit, Baba brought the child in to see someone at the clinic at Hopkins that very day. We finally heard back from Useless, and she forwarded an email from the nurse practitioner:

I saw him today urgently. He was at school and when he put his right processor on, he had pain. They sent him home(W******* school). I saw no redness or middle ear problem. I had him turn it on and place it on his ear and head and there was no problem at all.

so they should try back up equipment then let someone know if there are still concerns. if the right ear is the new ear (and i cant look that up right now) it could be the feeling that happens when the nerves start working again after surgery.

I was so pissed, I didn't even answer. But Ski Bum did. She kind of let Useless have it, and Useless said she would mention it to the surgeon.

I realize that they don't want him to sign, but come on, we're talking about his health. He should have had an ASL interpreter.

Even without an interpreter, surely they can ask him to point to where it hurts. They could gesture. And he does understand the English word "hurt." He's eight years old; he is old enough to know where it hurts and to point to the correct area!

Today (Wednesday), I again checked on the little man in before care, and he said, with an exaggerated smile, "Better!" Eh? Okay...

Then the nurse called us down to let us know that before care had told her that when mom dropped off Favorite this morning, she filled his pockets with Skittles and told him to have a good day ALL DAY at school. (I love that before care keeps us informed... everyone really likes this kid and wants what's best for him.)

I hope he really does feel better.

What a Difference an S Makes

2010-10-15T06:32:00.004-04:00

I got to the school where I see my deaf kiddos yesterday during their lunch. I was waiting for a college student, who was coming out to observe me, so I hung out in the cafeteria, which is close to the front doors. Of course, my little Favorite came right up to me, as did Glued-to-Me girl (Obsessed with Speech and Oblivious were also there).

As a side note, Favorite and Obsessed got their math tests back yesterday. The ones I had administered on Wednesday. 95% and 90%. With no modifications! Standard issue district tests! Obsessed got moved from sped math to regular lowest math group math. Favorite was already there. And I spent most of math class yesterday trying to get her to look at the interpreter (TOD was out, and the sub was useless). Rolling my eyes. You'd think a deaf child would want to look at the person who makes sense, but she'd rather take the crumbs that fall from the general educator's hands. "Oh, she touched the number two on the board; I'll touch a random two on my paper." And she expects that the para will repeat any directions she missed (which would be all of them) and can't figure out by copying others, so she just ignores all the language coming out of the interpreter and waits for the Reader's Digest version from the para.

Anyway... Glued was trying to hold my hand and showing me her headband and how she put her lunch box on the cart, and Favorite came over to say hi. I'm going to differentiate between spoken and signed in this little story. It kind of matters.

I signed to ask him how he was, and he signed fine, and he spoke, "Obsessed!" and pointed to her. Well, he used her actual name. I signed, "Obsessed happy?" (Sadly, we're at the mercy of her moods.) He nodded, smiling. Then he frowned. He shook his head and spoke, "Obsessed bitch!" The lunch monitor (hearing, of course) gave me a "What do you people teach these kids?" look. He did NOT learn that at school! I said something to the para, who told me that he's been picking up vocabulary from his adult brothers. Hm. I went to where he was now sitting with Glued, and he looked at me and spoke again, "Obsessed bitch." I signed, "Obsessed what? Bitch?" He looked at me like I had ten heads. Of course he absolutely would not know the sign, since he sees signing only at school, and we would never swear in front of kids. Actually, we don't even swear when we're not in front of kids. I signed, "Word [spoken]bitch, [signed] not nice. Mean. Obsessed she friend." He shook his head and spoke again, "Obsessed bitch" while signing, "Obsessed speech."

Right. Thursday. Obsessed has speech. And it did relate to my original question of whether Obsessed was happy... Obsessed had probably been told scolded all morning for signing, "Speech! Speech! Speech!" during class. Yes, she signs with exclamation points. If you saw it, you'd agree.

I don't normally drill Favorite on his articulation, but I can see that there's one word we need to sit down and practice.

Little Smarty Pants

2010-10-13T21:06:00.003-04:00

So you all know that I have a favorite student... I don't exactly keep it a secret. I was really proud of him today!

He showed up to school last week with new CI processors on, ones that doesn't work with the FM system he had. The district audiologist came out yesterday to set him up with a neckloop FM receiver but realized that she had no idea whether his processors were set to work with a telecoil. His new processors have a remote control. Which was at home. And the family doesn't speak English. Or sign. (Yes, IEP meetings are interesting.)

So the audiologist found pictures of the remote online and told the child to tell Baba (dad) to let him bring it to school. We never know how much this child understands, and honestly, who's going to trust a first grader to bring something in when you ask them to do so?

Well, get what the little genius hands us this morning? That's right, the remote, in a Ziploc bag. Cindy (the teacher of the deaf) gave him a sticker. The kids consider me a human sticker dispenser, but Cindy? Getting a sticker from her is HUGE. Usually she rewards kids by putting a bottle opener shaped like a thumbs up on their desk.

Well, after we got said child set up with his new FM, it was time to administer a math test. We pull the kids for all math testing to reduce distractions. I was glad this test was on a day I was at that school, because we have two sets of kids: the youngers, who are pretty oral (though DELAYED) and the olders, who are pretty signy (though DELAYED). It's hard to give them a test and meet everyone's needs. Plus, the youngers take longer, and one of the olders will act up when she's bored. Today one of the youngers was absent, and Cindy gave the test to the other younger one on one. I gave the test to the olders. This was a good arrangement for the kids, because Cindy's more oral and I'm more signy--go figure, the SLP is more signy than the CODA. If I'm not there, she will speak the test and let the interpreter handle the signing.

Anyway, it was a district test. We were to read the directions as is, and we were to read each item, and the kids could use some visual supports that they had used in the classroom, but we couldn't help them, stop them if they were on the wrong track, etc. Neither of the olders used the extra supports. Actually, one tried to use the visual support of the other's paper, but I stopped that with a folder placed between them. Can't blame her for trying, I guess. She missed a few items, and my favorite missed one. One! The funny thing was that he didn't even need me to read the items to him--he read the English himself. What a good day for him.

I Did Good

2010-10-13T16:42:00.000-04:00

I have a little student that I met four or five months ago, when she was transitioning from the birth-three program to the preschool program. We were all set for her to be a Pals child, meaning that we would provide her IEP services in whatever preschool her parents placed her in, rather than having her come to a special education preschool. Wouldn't you know it, she got kicked out of the preschool due to losing her potty-trained status (got sick over the summer and developed hardcore potty fear).

We're now six weeks into the school year and the child has had no IEP services, because the special educator, who is the case manager, is new to preschool and is new to Pals, and she hasn't followed up on things. She'll send an email or leaves a message, and if no one responds, she just lets it go. Sometimes it's really frustrating that I'm not the case manager, although it's great when you work with a good special educator.

Technically, we couldn't have seen this child even if she had been in preschool, because she wasn't registered with the county (you have to do that before an IEP can be implemented), because the special educator didn't tell mom to do that. Ugh.

So our assumption has been that the child would go to the special education preschool at the local elementary school, since the family couldn't get her back into the private preschool. No one expected the potty training saga to drag on this long. Never underestimate the willpower of a nonverbal 3-year-old!

On Monday, the mom registered the child at the local elementary school and told someone there that she doesn't want their preschool. She has a good reason: she works late afternoon into the evening, and she loves her morning time with the child. The special education preschool is four days per week, and she wants more than one day with her child. I think it's great that mom is pushing to keep the child home a couple of days a week. But she was ready to deny services for the child, which I didn't think was great. Like I said: nonverbal 3-year-old.

Anyway, so that statement by mom set off the email chain. The special ed preschool teacher told us what she had said and asked what was going to happen at our IEP meeting on Wednesday (that would be today). The Pals special ed teacher (new girl) didn't know. Eh? Not an answer I can accept! I got fed up with people not getting down to brass tacks with mom, so I called her Monday evening. I knew she was a reasonable person, because I had worked with her to transition the child from IFSP to IEP, and she was great.

After a long chat, we got some things in motion. She has canceled on us several times now and avoided returning phone calls, and I learned that it was because she was nervous to face everyone after being kind of flaky up to now and because she honestly didn't know what she wanted for her child. Totally understandable! I explained what to expect at the meeting and gave her the names of other preschools to try, including one co-op that I adore. I worked it out to have home visits for "parent training," just to keep the child on an IEP until she's in preschool again and can have direct services. Parent training is currently being piloted by one special educator, so I was glad to get that approved. So we got all of that worked out Monday and yesterday, I modified the IEP document, and we were able to have a quick, smooth meeting today. And the mom shared that the super-awesome co-op I recommended has ONE space left in the 3's class! And they definitely do not require potty training!

The was nice. But here's the part that made me feel good:

The mom said she had been stressing herself out on Monday, not knowing what to do, feeling guilty for saying what she had said at the local elementary school, and that my phone call was exactly what she needed. Seeming kind of embarrassed, she said, "Actually, you were an answer to prayer."

Babies!!

2010-10-08T06:58:00.003-04:00

E and R in my now-babyproofed living room.

I love babies!!! Yesterday, I got to babysit the twins of a couple in our ward (church), who also live in my apartment complex. Laynie was home, so she also babysat them. They are so cute! They are 9 months old, and they are champion crawlers and cruisers. They can even stand unassisted for a few seconds, and I swear E tried to take a step. Fantastic gross motor skills.

Their babbling is a bit delayed (pretty common to develop either motor or communication skills but not both at the same time), but E plays with her tongue and makes a "lahdee lahdee lahdee" sound. R just started saying, "Da! Da! Da! Da!" I worked on "Mamamamama" with them, because babies who are at home all day with mom really ought to show some appreciation and say her name. No luck yet. They both SCREAMED with excitement when we brought them into the bathroom to bathe them. They were clawing at the tub, trying to climb in! We got to keep them right up until their bedtime--their parents showed up at the perfect time, just as they became truly crankified.

They are so cute. Seriously. And they have fantastic hair. And I get to babysit them again today! I wanted to help our their parents, who are packing and moving. :( But only about 15 minutes away. Sam is in med school at Johns Hopkins, and they are moving closer to where he is doing his rotations. When I said 15 minutes, that would be without beltway traffic. Where they are moving to is just inside the Baltimore beltway, so it will probably cut the commute greatly in the mornings and afternoons. I guess I understand why they have to move. I will miss holding babies during sacrament meeting, though. And watching Sam try to contain one baby while Sara is out changing the other. E loves to shriek randomly during the meeting. I guess she's following the infantile philosophy of, "If I've got a voice, I might as well use it!"

E is eating a maraca and a drumstick, and R is just looking pretty.

Fourth Brandi Carlile Show!

2010-10-06T18:21:00.005-04:00

Laynie and Katie and I went to another Brandi Carlile concert. It was great! Except...

There were these drunk women that were being real jerks--pushing and shoving, swinging their heads around, getting in people's faces. I don't know why they didn't get bounced. They happened to be right behind us, and at one point, one of them actually hit her head into Laynie's head. Laynie gestured that she had hit her head, grabbed the woman by the arms, and pushed her back. Haha. They kept trying to strike up conversations (yes, while Brandi was performing and being AMAZING), and they were miffed when people said things like, "Look, I just want to enjoy the show." While one of the drunk women was singing loudly and off-key, a girl in front of us politely asked them to keep it down, and the woman responded, "Oh, am I too loud? I'm bothering you. Oh, I'm so sorry. SUCK IT BITCH!" They kept yelling things to Brandi, especially the one girl. Brandi usually responds to people when they call out to her, but not these dumb girls--she totally ignored them. The drunkest, loudest girl got in my face at one point, and she kept asking me to lean in to her so she could talk to me. Yeah, right. When I wouldn't, she said, "Let's just be sweet, come on, we're just trying to have fun." At other people's expense! Most people were really patient with these idiots, but it was hard to pay attention to what was going on, and I probably missed about a third of the show dealing with their crap.

They started trying to push their way up to the front (the show was at the Rams Head in Baltimore, which, if you haven't been there, is just an open house with a bar--no chairs except the few bar stools), and people shoved them back. Hehe... Laynie shoved them back the second time they tried, wagging her finger at them. They'd go back and head bang, laugh, spill their drinks on people and the floor, basically be raucous, then they'd try again. Finally, they got around us and the girls in front of us, and they bothered the people in front of them. They were trying to rush the stage. Whatever, they were way too drunk to be able to climb up. As they'd get behind new people who hadn't dealt with them before, they would be propelled further forward--no one wanted them nearby. They ended up at the very front (like 8 feet in front of us), where they stayed for a while. Oh my gosh, they were partying hard! Whatever.

As the encores were starting, I saw the girls making their way back through the crowd toward us. I was thinking NOOOOOO. Go back to the front. Then I noticed their faces--green! Especially the girl who had been having the most fun. She looked like she was really to puke any second. They were totally subdued now.

It was so pleasant after they left. Everyone was able to listen to Brandi and enjoy the wonderful performance. She did a few covers, including a new one that I hadn't heard her do before. It was so good! Forever Young. Thanks to whomever uploaded that onto YouTube!

On the way out, I noticed one of Brandi's picks on the floor, unclaimed! Swooped in and picked up that bad boy. Now I have two of them. :)

As I drove home, I started thinking how much the situation with the drunken fools reminded me of Lehi's dream. The people in the party house think they're so much better than everyone else, that they are having F-U-N and the people behaving themselves are losers. But it's not going to last. And guess who gets to hear the awesome Forever Young cover at the end? Not them!

Presume Competence

2010-09-28T07:55:00.000-04:00

Last night I went to special ed back to school night. One of my little first grade students was there! He showed me a shiny new iPod touch and emphasized, "Mine. Mine." I guess he got it for his birthday two weeks ago. He showed me the cool games, and I asked him if he was planning to play during the meeting, which he was. Back to school night is for parents, not kids.

We had an ASL interpreter there for a deaf parent who didn't show up, and the interpreter made the decision to stay for my little guy. It was really sweet how he watched the interpreter for a good 20-30 minutes, although the presentations were way over his head. Polite. One thing that was discussed during the meeting was a new buzzword in county, which we got from our awesome consultant for the year, Paula Kluth. The phrase du jour is "presume competence." Act is if. Act as if the child is already a reader. He will be. Act as if he already can walk. Maybe he will. Act as if she understands. Maybe she does. We've all heard stories of kids thought to have severe cognitive disabilities in addition to severe autism... Only to find out later that the child understood everything going on around her. Google Carly Fleishmann.

After the meeting, the teacher of the deaf and I greeted "our" parents, and while she spoke with little man's mother and adult brother (through a foreign language interpreter--enough people involved without me), I let my student show me how to lose at Street Fighter. And how to torture stick figures in StickWars ("Look! Blood!"). After a while, he went back to the home screen and noticed that the battery was less than half full. He said, "Oh! Eat!" and mimed plugging it in. I said (and signed--our agreement is TC with him, although I'd rather do a bi-bi thing of keeping talking and signing separate), "Power. It needs power." He got VERY annoyed with me, and said, "No, eat! Food!" I could not believe that this bright (though language delayed) child was being told that electronic devices need to eat. So I had to tell him that people eat food, machines like this use electricity, when you plug it in power goes through the wire and fills up the device's battery, etc. He said, "Power eat?" Close enough.

The reason I bring this up is because it is such a perfect example of presuming INcompetence. He could have understood power in this context--as much as any other first grader understands it. But in a culture where deaf=retarded (with all the connotations of that word), he doesn't stand a chance at being smart. Knowledge is kept from him by well-meaning people.

Treat them like they're smart and maybe they will be. That's presuming competence.

Small World

2010-09-27T06:36:00.003-04:00

The deaf world (well, Deaf world) is famous for being small. In fact, I remember "small world" being a phrase I learned very early on in ASL, when the teacher showed us her old boss on the Signing Naturally video.

A couple of weeks ago, I interpreted for a woman who asked me listen to her hearing daughter and tell her if the child was pronouncing words wrong... and later one of my students brought in a "My Weekend" book with the very same child's face in all the pictures.

The LDS world is apparently also small.

I work on the Pals team, which includes special educators, paraeducators, and related service providers from different schools all over the county. A few years ago, when I started on the team, I found out that one of the paras was LDS. Actually, she figured out that I was, because I wore a BYU sweatshirt.

This past Saturday, I agreed to help set up for the Relief Society broadcast activity at the stake center. When I got there, they didn't need help setting up in the gym, which they anticipated needing me for, so I helped out in the kitchen. There were three ladies on the kitchen team. They were each at least old enough to be my mother and had known each other for upwards of 20 years, and it was hard for me to get a foothold in their chatter... until I heard one mention that at her school they did such and such. I asked if she works in Howard County.. yes..

me: Oh, so do I. Which school?

Deep Run Elementary.

me: I work at Waverly Elementary.

Oh really, what do you do there?

me: I'm a speech language pathologist. [getting ready to explain what that is]

So am I! I work in the RECC.

me: I work in the deaf/hh program and the Pals program. [she knows that Pals is a RECC program]

That's right. Not only do we work for the same school district and share the same profession, we even work in the same "specialty" of the RECC (meaning preschool/kindergarten). And we happened to be in that small group of people preparing food for the RS broadcast dinner.

It makes me wonder how many other members of the church work for Howard County. I know that they had another LDS freelance interpreter until she moved last year. When the interpreter coordinator first hired me and found out I was LDS (BYU on my resume gave me away), she told me that, as well as how much she loved LDS people. She had a great neighbor who was a member of the church.

When she hired me, I'm sure she thought, "Small world!"

Kids Are the Darndest Things

2010-09-25T08:53:00.003-04:00

I love little kids. They can make me mental sometimes, but at least there is never a dull moment. I have recently had the pleasure of experiencing:

A student who has become obsessed with going to speech, signing speech about a thousand times a day. She even told her teacher she was going to the cubbies just so that she could look through my window to see what exciting things her classmate was doing. This started last week and is already so bad that she cannot concentrate in school, because she's thinking about speech all the time. Hopefully the behavior specialist can give us some strategies. Funny, I used to have to give this same child the choice of speech or thinking chair (time out) last year.

A four-year-old in a preschool where I have an IEP student, who came up to where I was writing notes in the "housekeeping" area of the classroom with the conversation opener, "How old is your Honda?" My keys were in the table. That's right, this four-year-old recognized the Honda symbol on a key and instead of saying Hi to me asked that. Although I was tempted to say, "My friend, you might be on the spectrum," I said, "Well, it's a 2006." He nodded knowingly.

A student who loved speech so much last year that he chose it over PE. He's a boy. Boys don't choose anything over PE. When I went to get him out of content recently, he signed, "Don't-want. Later." Sniff.

A student who loves me so much that she gives new meaning to the phrase "on me like white on rice." She wants to sit on my lap, hold my hand, lean her head on my knee. It breaks my heart to tell her no.

A student who boxed my ear when I bent down to say hi to him. He wasn't having a bad day or anything. Something was in front of him and he punched it. End of story.

They Are Listening!

2010-09-12T12:48:00.005-04:00

I blogged here about how I began singing the Books of the Old Testament song to my Primary class in February, and that I was excited that they had finally begun joining in to sing with me almost two months later. The reason I introduced this song to them was because it's what helps me find scriptures, and I was thinking along the lines of "teach a man to fish." I could just tell them the page numbers, or I could give them the same references they will use for the rest of their lives (chapters/verses) and teach them how to find the scriptures themselves. After each time we sing the song, I tell them where we will be for the lesson and sing a bit of the song, kind of making my thoughts audible. "Today we will begin with 1 Kings, chapter 17. Hm, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Ruth, Samuel, Samuel, Kings... that's the one! So I'll start kind of close to the beginning and I'll know I'm on the right track if I see Joshua or one of the Samuels. First Samuel.. First Kings!" Totally stream-of-consciousness. And I stream-of-consciousness them, too: "Leah, I see you're on the right track! You're in Joshua.. keep going.. Samuel, Samuel, there it is, Kings!" Yes, I get a bit cheerleadery. Scripture skills are important. The kids humor me, probably because I'm so happy when they find the chapter they are looking for.

But I hadn't heard the kids use this strategy themselves. Until today!

We were in Sharing Time (large group: our class plus two others), and my class was split into two groups; each group was to read a scripture and identify which gospel standard (from a list) related to that scripture. I worked with the two boys, and the three girls were going to work on their own. They were given the scripture Exodus 20:7. I was listening to make sure they began on the right track, when I heard one of the girls, the youngest child in my class, who never raises her hand, who speaks inaudibly when called on in Sharing Time, about whom I have worried so much that I was almost ready to call her mother to make sure the child was happy in class and it wasn't too far over her head (presuming competence, I pretty much teach them like they were Seminary students, filling in gaps as needed)... this timid child said to the two older girls she was working with, "Genesis, Exodus, oh, it's gonna be near the front."

The things I do make a difference. I floated home from church today on cloud nine.

Smart Me

2010-09-08T06:30:00.003-04:00

{totally off-topic picture}

I'm so proud of myself. As you know, I hadn't blogged for a while, and I also hadn't visited my blog. When I tested the post a couple of days ago, a twitter prompt was popping up. Eh? That was new. I tested my site again today and it was still popping up.

I knew it must have been something in the HTML code of the template, and I began looking at new templates. I figured I would never be able to fix that. I do kind of like the one I have, though. So I decided to try to troubleshoot the HTML. Scary, right? I don't know very much about reading and writing HTML. But I found the offending lines of code and deleted them! I am so proud of myself! Just wondering how it got there in the first place...

Similarly to Phyllis Nefler...

2010-09-06T18:49:00.007-04:00

...I've lost my will to blog!

Maybe not exactly lost my will... I want to write things, but sometimes I'm lazy, sometimes I'm busy, and sometimes I just can't say that "in public." The internet is as public as it gets, right? So that means I can't say much about work.

But I can say some things about work. I went back two weeks ago, and the kids started last week. Yippee. I didn't really get a summer break, because I was working. Not full time, but still.. working. Blah. I'm happy to have my deaf kiddos back, though. One child has been SO on the ball since coming back. Our fingers are crossed that it continues. They're all doing at least as well as they were in the spring, which is a relief.

I haven't begun working with my Pals children yet. Pals is an itinerant position where my county has me visit children in private preschools and daycares to work with them there, rather than bringing the children into special education preschools. It's wonderful for children whose disabilities are not severe, and it's wonderful for parents who are uncomfortable with the idea of special education. This week, Pals team members will meet with parents and settings to get an agreement signed so that we can work with the children again this school year. Hopefully we can start seeing the kids next week.

Speaking of Pals... my Pals "home base" has been one school, Dayton Oaks Elementary, while the deaf program is in another school, Waverly Elementary. Dayton is not close to any of the preschools and daycares where I have Pals students, so I didn't really make it out there much last year. I guess it was my home base because I worked with preschool students in the Dayton Oaks special education preschools two years ago, so it made sense. It no longer makes sense, so I asked the powers that be to have my basehood transferred to Waverly. A couple of hours later, I was officially a full-time Waverly person! Not that I'll spend more time there than I already did, because it is just as far from the Pals preschools/daycares... but it will be easier to decide what to do on days when preschool has no services, professional days, etc. Mainly, it will decrease my guilt at only hitting up Dayton Oaks once a quarter. They had even started sending my mail to Waverly by the end of last school year. Yeah. I was "that" person.

This year, I get to work with little guys and gals who have hearing loss, language disabilities, autism, selective mutism, speech disabilities, cognitive impairment, and autism. And my caseload is still small. It will grow, as it always does. But it looks like a have a bit of variety to begin with, and I'm really looking forward to the challenge of selective mutism. It means the child understands everything (or at least as well as others the same age) but refuses to speak to most people. Typically, they will speak in their home, without strangers present, or they will speak to other children at school but not to any adults. Fun times, right? When you can help them feel secure enough to communicate with more people, it's the best.

So, there is already drama in one of my programs. I won't go into it, but I'm just mentioning it because it brings me to one of the highlights of my work week. I had the opportunity to sit down with some professionals while they worked out issues, and I tried to be a neutral party. It wasn't hard, because I could see both of their perspectives. I was also trying to defend one person I know has a tendency to freeze and lose her train of thought when under pressure--but I tried to do so without offending another person, who is someone I respect and who, frankly, has a great deal of power. Afterward, two people higher up on the food chain told me that they were pleased that I was on the team at this school, that I was a good communicator, had a level head... just saying nice things. One of them is a person I never thought particularly cared for me, so it was nice to hear that from her. Hope she tells my boss!

Aside from work... let's see...

I got to babysit the twins again! Oh my, I haven't blogged in so long, I probably haven't mentioned the first time I babysat them. A couple from church has twin baby girls, who are about 8 months old now; last month, while Laynie was at her family reunion, I babysat them. First non-family babysitter, which was probably because their very young mom respects me as a former nanny. Whatever, I got to play with babies!!!!! They are so cute, and their personalities are already so different. One is adventurous and independent (backward-crawling into corners and under furniture), and the other is a bit clingier but likes to be up high and see everything. And she has an infectious giggle. Of course, they are both delightful. Well, last week, Laynie got to go with me and babysit them again. It was much easier with two people! Naturally, I got the fun jobs like booger-extracting (both had colds) and diarrhea-diaper-changing, but it was so nice to have company and an extra set of hands. One (Miss Independent) was HILARIOUS when I fed her. Even after having her nose suctioned, she couldn't breathe and eat at the same time, so she would greedily slurp for as long as I left the bottle in her mouth. The formula would run down into her neck folds... oh gosh. She would noisily suck on the bottle until I pulled it from her mouth, which would about every 10 seconds. I was afraid she'd drown herself! Then she'd gasp for air, milk running right out of her mouth. Laynie was cracking up. Miss Independent's sister, Miss Giggles, is going with "starve a cold." I know, 8-month-olds don't make very good decisions. Anyway, I had a great time with the girls, and I'm about ready to call their mom and ask if she doesn't have something she needs to do outside the home... child-free.

Ah, church. Church is great. My class is great. I never know who's going to be there, because apparently some families take loooooong vacations... and some take many vacations. But I love, love, love my kiddos. They are professional tangent-inducers. And I am always good for a digression, so we're a great team. Yesterday, a lesson on Rehoboam and the impact of peer pressure devolved into a 10-minute discussion on who Jews are and what the deal is with Hanukkah, which they now want to celebrate. Oy vey.

On to my next topic: Bug. Laynie is still a happily-implanted girl. I laugh when one of her batteries dies and she has to take off the other one, because hearing with one ear is just not pleasant. What a Picky Patricia! I guess I can't knock it, because I haven't been there. It IS pretty annoying if I lie down to watch TV and a pillow blocks one of my ears. I guess having NO hearing in one ear would be worse. But she had no hearing in *both* ears for so long! Anyway, she can still understand some simple words in context. She understood something recently that surprised me.. I'm trying to remember what it was. Oh, yeah. I was in the bathroom, and Laynie yelled through the door, "What do you want for dinner?" I understood her (yay!) and called back, "I don't know!" She understood me (a billion yays!) and said, "You don't know??" It was a really productive conversation. The other day when I stayed late--very late--at work, I guess Laynie got worried, because she called my cell phone. I showed it to my friend, Cindy, teacher of the deaf, who got all excited. She got to hear a scintillating call, which went something like this:

Me: Hello?

Laynie: Hi, Annie.

Me: Hi.

Laynie: Are you coming home?

Me: Yes.

Laynie: OK.

Me: OK.

Laynie: Bye.

Me: Bye.

Cindy got all misty-eyed, saying how she would have loved to have had even that simple a conversation with her deaf mother over the phone. Cindy's such a good egg. I can always count on her for a cheer when little listening triumphs happen. I'm sure there have been more of those little triumphs lately, but I just can't think of any. It's going to take a long time for Laynie to learn to listen--especially if I continue to sign voice-off! After a couple of tough years learning not only to turn off my voice when I sign but not even to mouth English words (ASL grammar!), it's really hard to use my voice at home. It's hard to remember, and it feels awkward when I do. Usually, I only use my voice when I'm mad. Not that I get mad... Anyway, I always notice the quietness of my home after my sister has been around. We get pretty noisy together, and the difference is glaring. Laynie always comments on how LOUD we are, and Katie tosses back, "Quit being so hearing then!"

Laynie is getting very good at identifying environmental sounds. She can describe a sound (with classifiers, which turn out to be far superior for describing sounds than any English words) and predict what probably made that sound. Next stop, speech? I guess time will tell.

Well, isn't this just like me? Once I get going, there's no stopping me! I guess I'll call it quits for today. I hope everyone is having a wonderful start to the school year, fall, and whatever other transitions are going on in your lives.

Watery Weekend

2010-07-07T18:41:00.016-04:00

Laynie and I went up to New York last weekend to babysit the Honor kids while Maureen and Eric went away. We had a great time, especially taking pictures in the pool. Water-proof camera!

Me and my favorite kids: Carson, age 7, Morgan, age 10, and McConn, age 6.

The pool area. You can see a little Laynie in the top right corner, ready to go down the slide.

The slide went pretty fast... surprisingly fast, apparently.

Morgie on the slide.

Heehee, what a geek.

McConn is so light, she practically flies up the side!

Laynie and her getting-less-little-all-the-time boy (too bad Laynie's face is blocked by bubbles). It is a well-known fact that Carson adores Laynie and is the only one who does not need my help to communicate with her. He doesn't sign either. I think they might use telepathy.

McConn smells like teen spirit... oh, nevermind.

Me and Mor. Everybody had fun taking underwater pictures.

The kids showed off their personalities...

McConn's personality is a model/singer/actress/princess.

I don't know why I like this pictures so much.. Carson is just stinking cute.

Me and my favorite boy!

Can you believe these children have a pool and did not know about chicken fighting? We were able to educate them. (Videography by Morgan)

I still can't believe Laynie let Morgie get on her shoulders. I told her no!

Poor Laynie.

McConn wasn't really good at the whole "using your muscles" thing.

But she was very good at carrying her older brother!

We threw the little kids around for a while.

They showed off their awesome jumps.

"Save me from these insane people?"

The next day, the kids went to a friend's house and we had the pool to ourselves. Yay! Time to play with the camera...

It's hard to take a good underwater picture.

Very hard...

Got one!

Little devil Laynie.

Scary girl!

See? Crazy eyes.

I love swimming!

We had a good time in New York, and I want to go back again before the end of the summer. Next time, Katie, you are coming with! Two musketeers need the third!

Did I Just....

2010-06-25T19:38:00.004-04:00

Oh, boy. Did I just do what I think I did?

I bought a new car!

I loved my 2002 Corolla S, which treated me great, but with the amazing deals at Toyota right now, combined with my USAA discount, I just couldn't pass up this opportunity.

Two weeks ago, I was at the dealership with my sister, Katie, who got herself a new Yaris. It's so cute! Black. Very sleek. I started to think gee, I might be in the market for a new car in a few years, and I'll bet the deals won't be as good... I doubt 0% financing will come around again. I thought about it for a couple of days and decided not to do it.

Then it came to mind again two days ago. Yesterday I went back to the dealership, this time with Laynie in tow. I wouldn't want to go alone. Katie is at a deaf campout this week, lucky girl. So poor Laynie had to hang out watching mouths move for a few hours. She was a big help though, especially in deciding what color to get. And agreeing that the fabric is unbearable: leather is a must. The fabric would create static easily, which is dangerous for the electronics in her head, and besides, the texture was giving me sensory issues. You know that feeling of yarn between your teeth?

But I digress.

Yesterday I drove a Camry and a Corolla. Hated the Corolla, loved the Camry. I planned to get the base model, but they only had silver (had enough of that) and a blue that I didn't really care for. So I was looking at the Camry LE in "spruce mica" (translation: green). The guys put together the numbers for me and I about had a heart attack. It turned out that the price I had gone in expecting was for a 2010 Camry, which is no longer available, what with us already being halfway through 2010 (note my distinct eye roll). The manager, who I already knew from when I set things up for Katie, tried his spiel, but I had to sleep on it.

Oh, and my Corolla trade-in was worth $4500 at Carmax! And the dealership beat the price by $300! Score!

So I went home feeling like I probably would not do it, really unsure. I kept playing games with myself, looking for signs. Okay, I'm checking the mail... if there's a bill in the mail, I won't get the car. Hm, no bills. (Score!)

This morning I woke up feeling good about it. Surprising. I said that to Laynie, and she said she had the same feeling. Of course, I decided to pray about it. I hate to do that about something as "worldly" as a car, which is why I hadn't up until then. I always remember something my mother used to say: "God doesn't care what color your carpet is." Some things that we think are important decisions really are not, in the eternal scheme of things. But I prayed about this decision, and then I opened my scriptures, which is my habit. I asked, "Should I get this car?" I opened to D&C 130 and looked straight at the first line of verse 5: "I answer, yes." I nearly laughed out loud, I was so surprised! Seemed like a pretty clear answer, and I felt really good.

I spent some time doing due diligence online, looking at every other car in the range of a Camry. Camry was still the clear choice for me. I started to get cold feet again, so I went to pray and just talk about it. I got some pretty clear impressions on exactly why this was a good decision, and I recalled the time when the Lord told Oliver Cowdery, "Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter?" OK, OK, I'm good.

So I called Chris at Toyota and told him to get a green Camry ready for me.

I was pretty sad about saying goodbye to my Corolla. Is that weird? I felt almost teary about it. I went through my records and carefully removed my identifying information from service paperwork, so I could hand that over, along with the title, etc. Then I ate a couple of Tums and headed down to clean out my car.

When I saw it, it looked like any old (and I do mean old) car. Not my precious anymore.. or not as much. Seriously, I loved that car. You have no idea.

But I said goodbye to it at the dealership. Goodbye. You will be good and take care of some young family or college student, won't you? Remember mommy loves you.

I test drove my new car before signing the paperwork, and it was RIGHT. Whew. I met with the "jack up your price" lady, who was disappointed about my lack of desire for undercoating, paint shield, or LoJack. She made sure to emphasize the number of Toyotas that get stolen right out of people's driveways on their first night home.

I met with the financing guy, who was the same one that helped Katie. He's really nice, very laid back. He thought it was so cool that both Katie and I sign with Laynie, whom he assumed was our sister (basically right). He remembered that Katie and I signed some things while he was working up her paperwork... Duh, so we could talk without you listening in. Sign language is the best.

He had to change the price (down) a bit, because I told him that I had just renewed my registration this month. My monthly payment went down... to 5 cents more than the monthly payment had been on my Corolla. I remarked how funny that was, and he typed some stuff and then said, "Wanna give me $3?" He showed me on his screen that the monthly payment was exactly the same as my old one, to the penny! That will certainly make it easier to remember. What a difference financing makes, hm? I was sim-com'ing (signing and talking at the same time), and I commented that my dad was nerdy (like me!) and would get a kick out of that. A few minutes later, I realized that I had signed "Nazi" instead of "nerd." Oops. If you know ASL, you'll understand why that was an easy slip to make!

So here is my beautiful new 2011 Toyota Camry LE in spruce mica, which will have leather installed next week. Just in time for me to drive it to New York on Friday.

Here am I, the happy owner:

Looking fab, I know. I was totally focused on the car issue all morning and did not take the time to make myself look presentable. Well, life isn't a beauty pageant, is it? At least I'm rocking my Brandi Carlile t-shirt!

Oh, that reminds me... I may have left a burned CD of Brandi songs in the CD player of the Corolla.... Every fan a missionary? ;o)

Scary

2010-06-20T13:59:00.005-04:00

This morning began like every other Sunday morning. I got up around 5:30 and prepared my Primary lesson, got ready for church, etc. We were planning to leave early, at 8:00 instead of 8:30, so that we could get there early and decide where to sit--basically so that I could see where I needed to sit in order to see Laynie at the lectern. Laynie was speaking in church today. Second speaker... perfect position in the lineup.

We left around 8:05. I knew that we would get there later than we had planned, but I didn't feel like speeding. I wanted to keep my stress level down this morning, so I drove less, shall we say, "competitive" than usual. We were about halfway to church, driving on Route 30. It's a long, country road, with just one lane going each way, but the speed limit is 50 mph. As we came over the crest of a hill, I saw a gold SUV coming from the other direction drift into my lane. He was coming directly at us! It felt like it was happening slowly and quickly at the same time. I didn't even honk my horn... I don't remember slowing down, but I might have. I guess I thought he would get back in his lane. But he continued to drift over onto the shoulder of the road (on our side of the road), and I thought he would go right off into the field lining the road. I was wrong! Without slowing down at all, he crashed head-on into the utility pole at the side of the road, going at least 50 mph.

Somehow his car turned so that the passenger side was angled toward us. Laynie said the force of the crash lifted the car off the ground, and it settled back down facing a different direction. I don't remember that. I remember quickly looking around, knowing that I would need to hit my brakes to avoid hitting the wreck (and because I wanted to stop and see if the people were okay and call 911). I pulled over on the shoulder. I called 911, told them what happened, and answered their questions. While I was on the phone, I checked the car and saw that there was only one person: a 40-ish Mexican guy. Also while I was on the phone, two other cars pulled over, who happened to be bossy guys. One started directing traffic (hooray for bossiness), while the other started talking to the Mexican guy. He was pretty out of it, but he kept trying to get out and saying stuff that I couldn't understand. The whole front of his car was pushed in, and he was pinned to the seat. It looked like the lower half of his body had been severed. We couldn't get the passenger door open either, so the other guy who had stopped just opened the door behind the driver (his chair was pushed halfway into the backseat anyway) to talk to him and keep him calm.

As I got off the phone, I noticed a buzzing noise that was increasing in loudness. At first I thought it was coming from the car, but then I realized it was coming from the power lines overhead. They had been damaged by the impact with the pole. It looked like broken wood had partially severed one line, and I was afraid it might snap. I was ready to call 911 and tell them that when the first police car pulled up. He asked us to hang out for a while, that they would want statements from us. Several more police cars arrived, as well as fire trucks and an ambulance.

We began to write out our statements when Laynie pointed out that we really ought to call the church. Of course, I did not have the number. The one that came up on google had been disconnected. Then I called Westminster, and they gave me a number that had been disconnected. Maybe it was the same number... I don't know. I was a little frazzled. Finally I went to the church website and looked up the number (iPhones are really quite handy), but it was busy. By this time, it was about 8:50. The crash had happened at 8:23.. that's when the police officer said he heard from the 911 people. I kept trying to call the church, but the number remained busy. At 9:15, I finally gave up.

Meanwhile, as we were writing our statements, another police officer came up to ask if we were in a hurry to get somewhere. No, Laynie's only speaking in church! He said that this had turned out to be a "special situation," and the investigators would be coming out to get our statements. Turns out the guy was an illegal, and it seems he stole the car or something. They didn't tell us that, but I overheard them talking about his identification and that they couldn't figure out which car the tags belonged to, that the vehicle was not in his name... Anyway, we had to stick around. It's not like we could go anywhere, with all the emergency vehicles blocking us.

A med-evac helicopter came for the guy. He was too critical to be sent by ambulance, because he needed to go to a major trauma center. Like I said we were on a country road, out in the middle of nowhere. That turned out to be convenient for the helicopter, which landed in a field.

We kept working on our statements, and the emergency response team kept working on getting the guy out. Yes, he had been trapped in the car. I wonder if they might have left him in there until the trauma people on the helicopter arrived, because of the way he was pinned? At any rate, the helicopter was there for a good 10 minutes before they finally loaded the guy on.

They had to remove a good portion of the car to get him out. You can see about a quarter of the car has been removed--the windshield, the hood, the dash, and part of the roof.

One exchange with a police officer has stuck with me. He read my statement and asked if the car was in our lane for any length of time or if it had quickly veered over into the pole. I told him that it was in our lane for a while. He looked angry. He asked, "He was driving right at you, in your lane?" Yeah. He just shook his head. That's when it hit me that we could have died. Up until then, I was only thinking about the man in the SUV, but if I had been going a little faster, or if he had drifted a few seconds later, or if things had just been a little different, we could have been in a head-on collision, with both cars going 50 mph.

I felt sick to my stomach. I just wanted to go home. After a couple of the fire trucks left and we were able to get out, which was around 9:25, we started to head home. Laynie and I were both shaking and feeling sick. I guess it's normal to have it come over you after the excitement settles down.

About 5 minutes down the road, we both decided that we wanted to go to church. And I felt strongly that Laynie should go ahead and give her talk, if we got there in time. She thought she was shaking too hard to sign. But she decided to go ahead and do it.

The third speaker had gone in Laynie's place, and we caught the last 5 minutes of his talk. As I sat there, I started to cry, which was exactly why I had wanted to go home in the first place. I knew it would hit me. Just thinking about that man stuck in the car, dying... and how close we came to being seriously hurt or dead ourselves. I prayed for peace, but I didn't feel it. How on earth would I interpret?? I couldn't see through my tears, besides the fact that my voice would betray me. I took out my scriptures and opened up my Book of Mormon. As I started to read, I immediately felt the peace I was seeking. Laynie got up and gave a great talk, and I interpreted it just fine.

Then I taught my Primary class. I was a little spacey at first, but then I was able to focus and it went just fine. One of my problem children was really good today, and another one was halfway decent. Wish I could say the same for my other problem child, but two out of three is not bad. I was really glad that we went ahead and went to church. Now we've been home for about two hours, and every now and then the man's face pops into my head, and I can hear the buzzing and smell the acrid odor. It's scary.

I'm really grateful to Heavenly Father for watching over us.

I Heart Brandi Carlile

2010-06-08T19:19:00.005-04:00

Y'all know I love Brandi Carlile.

I got to see Brandi play in Norfolk this past weekend, and it was the BEST SHOW EVER!! I went with my sister, Katie, my friend, Laynie, and my aunt, Megan. Aunt Megan and Katie ditched Laynie and me to hang out at the bar and walk around drinking.. whatever. Losers. ;)

I enjoyed this show so, so much. It's the fourth time I've seen Brandi (so I'm a little obsessed), and it was definitely the best one. The crowd was really into it. People were yelling out requests, so I yelled out mine, and she looked at me and played the song I asked for as the next song! Yahoo! I am not thinking I'm so special or something. I know it's the ASL: I'm pretty noticeable in a small crowd, when I'm interpreting all the songs for princess deafie. I do try to sign small, so I won't be too distracting to the performers.

I'm beginning to understand Phish Phans.... I would follow Brandi on tour!

Figures

2010-05-31T07:25:00.002-04:00

I gave a talk in church yesterday, and not only were there a million people there for a baby blessing, the stake president was in attendance. That's pretty much my luck.

And I got a "paraeducator" for my Primary class. Yahoo!!!!!!!

Bad, Bad Blogger - But Good, Good Speech Pathologist!

2010-05-28T07:21:00.005-04:00

It's not that I have nothing to say, I'm just so busy writing IEPs and attending meetings that cause me to question my sanity. I still have 5 or 6 more IEPs and a re-eval report to write in the next three weeks.

But I had the last of my deaf kiddos' IEPs on Wednesday, hallelujah! Those are the most time-consuming ones. The teacher of the deaf (TOD) and I sit down together with the curriculum and mark the skills our kids have, write the present levels from that, chose goals from the curriculum items they don't have, write the goals, then write the rest of the IEP pages. It takes forever to do present levels, supplementary aids (we have like 30 things in that section for each kid), and goals. It also takes forever to figure out the services page, because we have to look at the regular ed schedule and extrapolate the times we can pull them, etc. Of course, the district wants them in gen ed at least 80% of the time, so they are in LRE-A. The TOD and I think LRE should be the amount of time they are with people who can sign directly to them, not through an interpreter. IDEA does say to consider communication needs for deaf kids' LRE. ;)

Speaking of the TOD, um, she and I rock. And I have proof.

Just a quick note to comment on what a great lesson or really lessons that we had the pleasure of observing in your classroom and in the Kindergarden classrooms that you collaborate with so well. The reading, writing, listening, speaking, signing, behaving skills were all addressed by the two of you so seamlessly and effectively!!

Please convey our commendations and appreciation to your support staff and co-teachers.

Thanks again for what you do so well.

Woohoo! That was from the Director of Special Education for our county. I'll call him Bill.

Yesterday, Bill and the Coordinator of Special Education for our county (I guess if Bill is the biggest special ed wig, she's the second biggest, and I'll call her Debbie) and another fairly big wig, (I'll call her Kay) came by to observe our program. The TOD told me that they come see her every year. Kay has been out to see us many times this year, because she was handling a situation where we were in mediation with the family. But Bill and Debbie have not been out to see us, and although I've seen them at various trainings, they didn't know me.

They saw the TOD interpreting/co-teaching phonics in gen ed and then working with two of the kids in their classroom. They came to glance in at me working with the other two kids, doing journals. It was AWESOME, because My Favorite Student has recently realized that writing conveys meaning, is able to come up with ideas to write about, and will not accept words that do not fit his writing vision. All of a sudden he has jumped from writing three words to writing 8-12 words. This was what he wrote yesterday (keep in mind that this is from a deaf child who began learning to sign two years ago, at age 5, and has had a CI for less than one year): "I like Pe. red ball two fras run tag. me sat." (I like P.E. Red ball two friends run tag. Me sit.) I did help him spell two and tag; he spelled friends himself; and he sounded out "sit" but wrote sat because he's not good at distinguishing vowels yet. Anyway, he's awesome. And his deaf classmate wrote, "Me Zachary can slide." Four words? I'll take it! She usually wants to write one or two words and just illustrate.

My Favorite clammed up when Kay came into the room, because she's the one who was there throughout the time he was under a lot of pressure to be very auditory. He doesn't like her. But I immediately said, "Bill, come on over and let (My Favorite) read his journal entry to you!" Big smiles. I didn't want the kids to get weird with Bill and Debbie like they are with Kay. I introduced Bill as my friend, fingerspelled his name, and My Favorite orally read his journal entry. Bill was quite impressed. Then we went to the TOD's room for our pull-out.

We had planned for me to read a story and then have the kids write about it, which we normally do on Wednesdays, but we moved it to Thursday, because we didn't think they'd want to see our usual Thursday activity of playing a game. Games are wonderful for working on communication and other skills (especially math--how many do you have, more, less, equal, etc.), but big wigs don't necessarily recognize that.

So the TOD pretaught some vocabulary and I read Knuffle Bunny. I read the book and asked questions throughout it, like usual. Now, I am a crazy person and do not mind looking like a total fool, so I did my usual facial expressions, gasps of surprise at what happened to Knuffle Bunny, exclamations of shock at what happened next, etc. The TOD "took notes" on a huge piece of paper, writing down things the children said and drawing little pictures. We used that to review the book. Then we had the kids explain their favorite part, write a sentence (or 3, in My Favorite's case: "The bunny is in laundry. Baby. Dad is mad.") using the note TOD made and the sight words they know, and illustrate their writing. Usually we have them illustrate first, because it helps them stay on topic, but I was afraid they would take too long with that and not have time to write. Didn't want that to happen with Bill and Debbie there. Then we had them read their sentences to anyone who would listen (Debbie was very into this).

Throughout all of this, Child A was great, Child B was his usual inattentive and slightly defiant self (although he just turned 6, he's going through that 3-year-old stage where everything is "no" or "why?"), Child C was inattentive and obsessed with Child B was doing, but she didn't hit him, so we were pleased, and Child D (My Favorite) was excellent. Child A and Child D were making comments throughout the story. Child A had an advantage, because she has the book at home.

It was interesting how people behaved different watching us. Debbie tried to interact with the kids using facial expressions, and she gave me a lot of positive nonverbal feedback during the story--almost like a deaf person would. Kay and Bill sat whispering throughout. I wasn't sure how much they heard, since they seemed to be talking most of the time. Later I found out it went something like this, "She's a speech pathologist, you know." "Really?? That's extraordinary. I've never seen a speech pathologist able to lead the lesson." "Yes, we're very fortunate to have her." "She stops so often to get Child C to look at her. What a challenging youngster." "That child has made great improvement with her behavior, but she is quite a challenge." "I love the way they work together. It's quite ideal." "Oh yes, I've been very pleased with them this year."

Of course, in the moment, I was wondering if the whispering was a good or bad sign. But I just looked at the kids, and I wasn't nervous. Child C kept me too busy for that! Plus, I spent two years of grad school being observed nearly all the time when I worked, and once a month during my first year after graduating. You get used to people taking notes about you.

Afterward, Debbie gushed about how that was the BEST storybook reading she had ever seen. Bill wants to videotape me and the TOD as a model of co-teaching, to be used throughout the district. We said sure! What a relief that it went well. After the 45-minute pull-out session, the kids went to math, and the big wigs stayed for most of it. Apparently math went well, too. I wasn't in there, because I had my little preschool speech only students.

I'm happy that they were happy. I wonder if the videotaping thing will really happen.

Now if only they would explain our awesomeness to the parents of our students.

Sweet

2010-05-09T13:13:00.005-04:00

One of my students warmed my little heart today in class.

Oh, I'll just talk about the day--I'm kind of bored. :) First, I had a rather large class today. All seven of my "regulars" were there, plus somebody's cousin (who happened to be a well-behaved boy, whew). I separated my two behavior problems, and although I did have to say their names and give them the look a few times, in general everyone was very good today! Pleading with the the Lord this morning must have helped.

When Laynie left the room at the beginning of class to get scriptures for some of the boys, I had the thought that I should share with them my struggles with teaching in ASL and English at the same time. I explained that I have to remember the content/flow of the lesson, how to say it in English, and how to say it in ASL. But I can't seem to do more than three things at once. If I add in thinking about dealing with disrespectful behavior, something ends up getting dropped, and that something is ASL. I used the ASL listing on the hand technique to illustrate this. :) They seemed to understand. Then I explained that for Sister Fife, sitting here when I'm just speaking English is like if they were sitting in a class where everyone was using Chinese. It would be pretty boring and frustrating. I asked if they would try to behave appropriately, so that I could speak and sign at the same time, and they agreed to do so. I think they might have felt a bit of empathy for Laynie. Don't get me wrong, they haven't been horrible lately, but two of the boys have been very irreverent in their attitude. Light-minded, you might say. There's a perfect ASL sign for it, which looks like "silly" but with two hands and a specific facial expression--no perfect English translation though. It's been hard to feel the spirit when they behave that way.

Today we were learning about Joseph in Egypt: his experiences in Potiphar's home, the dream interpretations in the prison, the dream interpretations for Pharaoh, and how he became the second most powerful man in Egypt. The lesson ended with the famine, which extended far and wide... even to Canaan. Four or five kids gasped, realizing that Joseph's brothers would have to come to Joseph for food. Bless their hearts, they remembered where the family lived and made the connection!

When we got the "be done now" knock, one of the boys who often causes problems said quite sincerely, "No!! I wish we could stay here forever!" That was the heart-warming part. But then he continued, "I don't wanna go in there." There meaning sharing time.

If I could just figure out how to get them engaged in sharing/singing time... Funny, they can attend to instruction well in class, but they "can't" in sharing time. They sing with me in class, but they don't in singing time. (When I say they, I don't mean all of them.)

Every week in class, we sing the songs with the names of all the books in the Old Testament and New Testament. In February, I started singing these two songs to them every week. I explained that this was how I find verses so quickly in the scriptures--I sing part of the song in my head and know where the book will be that I am looking for. Every week I invited them to sing with me if they would like (while reading the table of contents--they've always had the words in front of them), but they hung me out to dry for at least six or seven weeks.

Then one day, every kid sang along! Well, all except one--but he vocalized. He has a tough time learning. Anyway, they've been joining me, singing these songs enthusiastically for the past month or so. Last week, they began asking me to sing the Book of Mormon song, too. They're disappointed that there is no song for the Pearl of Great Price. And I showed them how to use the text features--the chapters are right at the top of the page, and they're in numerical order! You'd think that would be obvious, but kids do need to be shown these things. When they use the scriptures in sharing time and the teacher starts to give them a page number, my kids will say, "Wait, which chapter?" Yeah, they're awesome.

Except when they're completely disrespectful to all of the teachers in sharing time. Sigh. Those kids who sing the books of the scriptures songs? You would see them picking their cuticles (or other body parts) during singing time. Total ennui. One very bright boy will sometimes sing and other times will look me in the eye and swear that he does not know one word to any of the songs. When I encourage him to try, he grunts loudly to the rhythm of the song. Across the room, his older brother laughs, and so does his older brother's teacher. It's like something you'd see on those Mormon movies, like Singles Ward or The RM. I could write one called Senior Primary.

But let's get back to the point... They were so good during class today. I was able to teach with the spirit, and I felt wonderful about it. They are learning concepts and skills, which makes me very happy. Sure, they're a mess during sharing time, but less of a mess than before. They no longer yell out disrespectful comments or poke each other. I have downgraded their insanity level in sharing time from "nightmare" to "kind of scary dream." Let's hear it for progress.