Mariposa Academy Homeschool

Then:

Now:

Happy birthday, Llanina!

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.

Today is Christmas day, and do you know what that means? Peace and joy and love and no mail? Yeah, that, too, but what it really means is that my mother-in-law will be here tomorrow. She is coming here tomorrow afternoon and staying for a week. Let me explain the seriousness of the situation. For seven days, we are going to share our 917-square-foot apartment with a crazy, irritable, middle-aged Dominican woman who never stops talking and has absolutely no tact, no filter between the brain and the mouth. I’m just glad that, because Spanish is her first language and her English is heavily accented, I won’t be able to understand most of what she says. It’s better for both of us that way, better for everyone in the house. Trust me.

My mother-in-law, God bless her, means well. She really does. I will try to hold that fact in my mind as the week drags on. She loves us all, especially her grandchildren, and it is that love that motivates most of her actions. Well, that love, and craziness. I will try to remain calm when she criticizes everything I do and tells me, in excruciating detail, the way she does it instead. I will take deep breaths and smile when she criticizes my parenting, which is the thing I’m most sensitive about. I will listen to her crazy theories about the world and I won’t argue with her. I will let her believe that Jews believe in Jesus, or that the reason tropical fruits are expensive has nothing to do with the fact that they’re imported, but is instead because the grocers want to cheat Dominicans. When she hands me cards with prayers and pictures of saints on them, I will thank her for her thoughtfulness. I will even let her anoint me with oil and Agua Florida and bless me, spinning me around and lightly running her hands over my body as she prays aloud in Spanish (and maybe in tongues).

Because of this post of Jason’s, I feel compelled to post a picture of this lovely lamp:

I knew you’d love it. Maybe I should drape some tinsel over it?

That piece of dreck art used to belong to my parents, who bought it at an antique shop or auction or something. When they were selling it in a garage sale, Llani decided it was “beautiful” and she wanted it. Adrian, who hates to say no to the kids, bought it for her. Of course, because it is easily breakable (and half-broken), it can’t go in the kids’ room. It’s on our dresser, instead. It doesn’t have a bulb in it, so it’s not even useful. It just sits there looking tacky pretty.

Today, I am thankful that:

1. It’s Thursday. One more day till the weekend.

2. When the baby fell off the bed today, she did not seriously hurt herself.

3. Even though Llani did next to no schoolwork today, I am confident that the advantage she gets from one-on-one attention and the ability to school on weekends, evenings, and holidays more than makes up for the lazy days we have now and then.

4. Adrian will be home soon.

5. Llani is finally registered as a homeschooler in the state of North Carolina.

6. Zeke is finally going to get an OT evaluation.

Happy Thanksgiving Happy Black Friday Happy, um, Saturday, everyone! Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving. I sure did. We went to my parents’ house for Thanksgiving dinner. My sister and her family are away on vacation, so it was a small group– just my parents, my immediate family and me, and my dad’s friend. We had a delicious meal. As you might know, Adrian, the kids, and I are all vegetarian. Every year as Thanksgiving approaches, people ask us “What do you eat?” They seem really flummoxed by this question, as if they couldn’t possibly imagine experiencing Thanksgiving without turkey. I don’t get it. I know turkey is the iconic Thanksgiving food, so much so that teh holiday is casually called “Turkey Day.” But really, are these people saying that if the turkey wasn’t on the table, they wouldn’t have anything else to eat? Do they think we are sitting there with empty plates because we don’t eat turkey? Come on! Thanksgiving is one day that a vegetarian is certain to leave the table with a full stomach!

This year we had two scrumptious “turkey substitutes”: a Tofurkey and a Celebration Roast. But even without those, we would have been fine. We started our meal with a wild mushroom soup. I really have to ask my mom for the recipe; it was delicious. Then, along with the fake turkey, there were dinner rolls, cornbread, traditional cranberry sauce, cranberry-orange relish, stuffing, sweet potatoes, braised red cabbage, green bean casserole, and noodle kugel. Trust me, starving we weren’t. After sitting around and letting the food digest a bit, we went back to the table and enjoyed coffee, pumpkin pie, and apple cake. Yum! And of course my mom sent us home with leftovers, which we enjoyed throughout the day yesterday.

Yesterday, rather than taking part in all the Black Friday meshugass, we went thrift shopping. I only found one skirt for myself, but I found a ton of things for the kids. Llani was especially lucky– ten shirts, 3 or 4 skirts, a pair of pants, and a dress. Zeke got two pairs of pants, two button-down shirts, a t-shirt, and two neckties. Yes, my funny little boy who usually looks like a ragamuffin with a dirty face, unkempt hair, and a stained shirt, loves wearing ties. Go figure. Luz just got a few things, one of which, a pink stripey dress, she is wearing today with her rainbow-striped leg warmers. Because babies + stripes = teh cuteness.

Oh, speaking of rainbow stripes, listen to this. My dad just recently learned that the rainbow is a symbol for the gay community. You must understand, this is a man whom I’ve referred to as a “male fag hag” because he always hangs out with lesbians. Even though he is straight and married, he was involved with the Gay and Lesbian Community Center for a while, just because he had lots of friends there. Some of his closest friends here in Charlotte are gay men. But it was only when his friend, a gay male, told him that the rainbow flag means gay rights, that he realized it wasn’t a coincidence– his gay friends didn’t just all happen to love rainbows so much that they put rainbow stickers on their cars! How is this possible?

Today I am thankful:

•That I’ve been able to hold down the fort this week.
•That Adrian is coming home tomorrow.
•That even though I’m getting a cold and am sniffly, stuffy, and froggy, I actually feel just fine.
•For warm clothes, including the babywearing poncho that keeps both me and Goosey warm.
•For food on our table, clothes on our backs, and a roof over our heads.
•For coffee.
•That I’ve been liking Charlotte lately.
•That I’ve just generally been happy lately.
•That I’m managing to do a weekly meme the third week in a row!