Mariposa Academy Homeschool

Zeke gets speech therapy twice a week at our local elementary school. The speech room is right inside the entrance of the school, and for the 1/2 hour the kids are in there I sit on a bench either right outside the room, or right outside the office.

Today when I was sitting there nursing Goosey, a class or two came in from the playground and walked past me to their classrooms. A little while later, a woman came up to me and asked me to go into the office the next time I had to nurse the baby, because it “caused quite a stir” among the 4th grade boys and was “pretty disruptive.” This was the first time someone asked me not to nurse in a public place. Of course I’ve read news stories about such things, but it never happened to me before. I was a bit flummoxed, but I said, “I have the right to nurse anywhere I want, and I hate the thought of being shoved into a corner because I’m nursing.” She said, “Oh, no, you’re not being shoved into a corner; I was going to offer you a private office,” repeated the bit about causing a stir and being disruptive, and closed with, “Think about it, okay?” I said okay (yeah, I’m thinking about it, and I’m thinking I’m pissed!).

I understand that 9yo boys might snicker about nursing. I’m not trying to make their teacher’s job harder. I know how difficult it can be to maintain order in a classroom. But I don’t see why I should be prevented from doing something that is completely within my right to do, just because 9yo boys snicker about it. And it’s precisely because nursing is kept hidden in our society that they find it amusing/embarrassing. It should be as matter-of-fact as bottlefeeding. And the teacher should treat it as such. Is it so hard to say something like, “Yes, boys, the baby was nursing. Humans are mammals, you know. Now let’s settle down. Take out your math books.”? Have these boys really never seen a mother nursing her baby? That’s pretty damn sad.

I am not planning to go into a private office to nurse. So I think it’s a reasonable assumption that someone’s going to say something to me again. And I need to figure out how I’m going to handle that. Meanwhile, I can only say that I wish those kids, and the woman who asked me to nurse in private, had seen these videos growing up:

Today I watched, teary-eyed as President Obama took the Oath of Office.

Let me see something……

I can’t imagine what President Obama must be feeling right now.

I wonder what’s on President Obama’s agenda for tomorrow.

I’m hopeful about President Obama’s plans to revive the economy.

President Obama sure has a beautiful family, doesn’t he?

…Nope. I really can’t get tired of saying and hearing those two words together.

Aside from this magnificent, historic occasion, we had a great day in smaller ways. It snowed last night and this morning:

This was the blizzard that caused the schools to close and people to buy up all the eggs, milk, and bread in the store:

This is the same patch of grass 20 minutes after I took the first picture:

Llani and Zeke threw snowballs at each other and made mini-snowmen:

Unfortunately, the mini-snowmen melted about ten minutes later.

Once my kids had finally had enough, we went in and had lunch. For dessert, we had Zeke’s Potty Cake. That’s not as gross as it sounds. Adrian baked a cake last night to celebrate the fact that Zeke uses the potty now. Zeke wanted a strawberry cake, so that’s what he got. I frosted it with Fluff, and the kids and I decorated it with sliced strawberries and colored sugar.

While Llani was eating the cake, one of her top front teeth fell out.

All in all, it was an absolutely fantastic day.

Friday, about a year after putting in a request, Zeke finally had his Occupational Therapy Evaluation. Guess what? The therapist said he is fine. She said he is completely different from the kids she usually sees, and she asked me what kinds of problems I’d been having with him, because she was not seeing problems. He did everything she asked him to do, he stayed on task, he had no problem with her touching him (such as laying a hand on his shoulder or tousling his hair), he answered her questions… in short, he interacted with her just as a “normal” five-year-old boy should. As I talked to her about the issues we’d been having, I realized that he has grown out of most of them. He finally let me cut his hair, and he lets me brush it and even put product in it. He can deal with me wiping gunk off his hands and face. He will even wash his hands with some coaxing and help from me. He changes his clothes. He is not always grumpy. And, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, he is potty trained!!!

Yes, he can be grumpy and moody a lot of the time. Yes, he is easily frustrated and has more intense tantrums than the average kid. He is stubborn. And he is more sensitive than the average child his age. But it is not at a level that indicates a sensory disorder, or any disorder, for that matter. He is just a quirky kid. Specifically, he is a quirky kid who is extremely intelligent (he solved some high-school-level problems during the eval) and who has verbal apraxia, which makes it difficult for him to communicate what he is thinking. Who wouldn’t be easily frustrated by that?

What I am going to do now is improve my parenting skills, and figure out ways to work better with Zeke’s temperament. I need to find my copy of Raising Your Spirited Child. I think that book will really help me. I’m also thinking of learning more sign language with Zeke, to ease his communication-related frustration. Even though his speech has improved immensely, he does a lot of pointing, whining, and grunting instead of saying the words. I don’t know if it’s because sometimes speaking seems so difficult he doesn’t want to bother with it, or if he’s afraid I’ll correct his pronunciation and make him do “work” when he just wants to ask for something, or what. But maybe signing will take some of the pressure off him. I’m going to ask his speech therapist about that.

Hey y’all, I’m still here! I survived a week with my mother-in-law. I didn’t cry, and I didn’t make her cry, so it’s the most successful visit to date. I even have some nuggets of MIL wisdom to share:

1. My MIL cannot eat Splenda, because it will give her diabetes. It is made from sugar, after all.
2. It’s a good thing I cut Zeke’s hair, because otherwise lice would jump into his hair from other people in the supermarket. They just love long curly hair, you know.
3. On a related topic, never put your coat on someone’s bed at a party, because you will get bedbugs. Especially on the corners of the bed– that’s where they hide.
4. Orange juice has calcium. No, not the “plus calcium” kind, just regular orange juice. Drink it for good bones.
5. If I don’t give my kids cough syrup when they have a cold, they will get pneumonia.

Overall, though, it was a pretty painless visit. It was made sweeter by the fact that Luz and my MIL totally bonded. Luz actually would cry out for my MIL, reach to be held by her, or crawl towards her room on various occasions. She’s been grumpy for the past two days and I’m wondering if it’s because she misses my MIL.

Luz, by the way, is not only crawling all over the place, but has started pulling up to standing, and even furniture-cruising a tiny bit. I have a feeling she’ll be an early walker. She is also a big fan of the solid food. The other day we went to a Mexican place for lunch. Goosey ate so much guacamole that I thought she must be full… then ate a generous amount of rice, beans, cheese, and spinach.

The biggest child development news around here by far is that Zeke, who turned five on New Year’s Eve, is finally using the potty. I don’t know exactly why it was so hard for him to potty-learn, but I know it is a common problem in children with apraxia. We had been gearing him up for a long time, telling him that they don’t make diapers for five-year-olds. When he turned five he would simply have to start wearing underwear. He has been handling the change remarkably well. He has had a couple of accidents, but is fine wearing underwear and has hardly balked at sitting on the potty, even in public restrooms. I can’t express how thrilled I am at the prospect of having only one child in diapers.