6/5/2011 Easy Sunday

Very low bar for success today -- and we met it!

My goals: quick workout at the Y, get the boys to write thank-you cards to their teachers, more house cleanup (that was a VERY lofty goal actually), and then let them watch Harry Potter And the Sorceror's Stone. Gabriel and I had watched it together last night anyway, but of course he'd want to watch it again.

Julian and Katrina, like yesterday, were not with the cleanup program until the movie was really in their faces. I said "3:00 and the movie goes on, with or without you!" Julian stepped up, and magically, his PROBLEMS with cleanup vanished. He got his jobs done fast. Katrina refused and insisted she didn't want to watch the "dumb movie" -- until the TV actually went on. Then, wailing, she said she was in a HUGE HURRY to get her work done. This included folding and putting away her laundry, and picking up hundreds of yarn scraps from snipping an entire skein of yarn into tiny pieces.

In the end, everyone got to see Harry Potter, and the house is ready for the cleaners tomorrow. Yay!

Gabriel had it easy today, since he'd helped me so much yesterday. While Julian was cleaning up and Katrina was putzing, Gabriel made banana bread, with guidance and occasional lifting and reaching from me, but for the most part, on his own. He's very proud of his creation!


Gabriel is slowing getting some toys back, but I'm really amazed at how he doesn't seem any more bored than before most of his toys were put into a box in the garage for horrendous behavior last week. He's spending more time on the piano, for starters.

Unfortunately, I missed Gabriel's Spring Concert this year because I was back East for my Dad's service, but I've gotten a lot out of it indirectly because he's been playing one of the songs his class sang on the piano at home. This isn't a complex song, but I still can't help to be impressed that he can play it, even though he didn't play it in the concert. It's not a huge deal for an experienced pianist to pick up a song this simple, but a kid who's had only a few months of lessons, years ago?

Maybe I'm too much of a musical amateur myself, but it still blows me away that he does on his own, just for the heck of it. I asked Dave how he learned it, and Dave said, "he heard it." It's eerie sometimes; it's like he's just wired differently.

The song is about Peace, called "Circle The Earth."


My son making banana bread and playing piano, and his siblings cleaning up after themselves for once -- now that's magic!

6/5/2011

6/4/2011 Harry Potter Day

A rainy indoors weekend, Dad is away, and cleaners are coming Monday and the house is a mess. This all adds up to : video incentives to clean up!

Today our one kid-outing was to go to Barnes & Noble, to get the remaining Harry Potter books I didn't already have (episodes 5, 6 and 7). The plan was also to get gift cards for Gabriel and Julian's long-suffering teachers, and thank-you cards for the kids to write in for their teachers. I forgot about the cards somehow, so we're in for another trip tomorrow (or make our own cards at home tomorrow), but we also went to Blockbuster to rent the first Harry Potter movie.

Mean old me, I insist on LOTS of cleanup and laundry before movies. Gabriel had the least to do of all the kids, and he has a point: why should I clean up after them? I hated as the firstborn being expected to do more and clean up after my messier younger siblings. Katrina makes by far the biggest toy-messes, but I tell Gabriel that since I have to help her clean up, then he's helping me, not her.

And Gabriel did help a lot tonight. He cleaned up parts of her room (things that are hard for her to do), he took out the garbage and recycling, cleaned up common areas of the house, folded and put away all his laundry.

It's tricky with him since all his toys were put away last week for his offenses at the CDC -- another subtle side-effect of the oh-so-NOT-simple consequence of putting all his toys away: now he's immediately the best-behaved about cleanup, since he has almost nothing to do. But he still was by far the best tonight anyway.

Julian and Katrina were on notice that there was no movie for them unless they helped, and both of them blew it off. And naturally, both threw major fits when it was bathtime and they realized they weren't going to get to watch the movie. Katrina accepted reality quickly, but Julian -- oh my, he screamed, and I mean screeched at the top of his lungs for no less than an hour (including a 5-minute stint out on the front porch in his pajamas). He was outraged and stunned at being stiffed the movie, insisting that he'd "done enough." He refused to listen to reason that he'd ignored me when I'd told him to clean up something, as usual blaming it all on someone else.

On the outside, it appears easy: "State the consequence, follow through, that's it!" In practice, having your kid SCREAM for an hour is extremely disruptive. It's not "that's it," though I sure as heck wasn't about to back down. It'd be worth it if he meant he learned his lesson and will comply next time, but I'm sure I'm in for the same exact painful hassle again.

There are good reasons I wanted a 2-story house in this 1-story ranch-house area, and tonight that played out. While Julian screamed his head off in his room, Gabriel and I started the movie. I'd planned to only watch half of it - it started way late after all, but he'd really helped me above and beyond and it was so nice watching together, that I said "eh!" and let him stay up really late watching the whole thing together.

I had the Harry Potter books 1-4 because I loved them, well before having kids. I remember thinking that they'd really appeal to kids, so what a treasure for me to experience that kid-appeal first-hand with my own kid now. It's about time Harry Potter fever swept this household!

6/4/2011

6/3/2011 Neighbors

For the last 11-1/2 years, this is a sight that we've seen across the street:


far more often than this one:


In fact, we've never, ever seen no cars in the driveway or lining the street -- and often on the lawn.

Really, we've never seen fewer than 3 cars across the street, usually one or more not running. For many years there was a camper parked in the driveway, with guys living in it. Numerous domestic disputes (and one anonymous call from a nosy neighbor to Adult Protective Services) have summoned Sunnyvale's Finest here, the biggest assembly ever being this past Wednesday night with a fire truck, two ambulances and 4 police cars. All the disputes have been between men, and included a lot of shouting and pounding and cars screeching away.

Activity increased yesterday, with more cars, more guys hanging around, trailers attached to pickups, and a U-haul truck. And today, they're gone. The driveway is empty, and there are no pickups parked all down our street. We've never, ever seen an empty view from our own living-room window. It's been a very strange white trash outpost in the midst of an otherwise quiet family neighborhood.

I don't think the house sold though. The For Sale sign that had broken in half and was swinging in the wind is also gone now. What -- who is next?

6/3/2011

6/2/2011 Critical Thinking

Maybe I'm too sensitive or skeptical, but receiving this sort of catalog actually offends me.


Better Grades & Higher Test Scores - Guaranteed!
More than 100 National Award Winners!
Empower the Mind!

Oh Freakin' PLEASE!!!

And I say this coming from a job and career that very highly value critical thinking. (Well, except for Mr. Horrible who has no idea what that means.)

In my line of work, as in many others, being able to separate the noise from the signal, the wheat from the chaff, is very important. I have two coworkers off whom I routinely bounce ideas -- who might have little knowledge of the specifics but who are able to isolate, analyze, evaluate; ask the right questions and guide me to the right answer. I have two other coworkers -- hired by Mr Horrible with no interview or vetting, hired only based on their loyalty and ability to kowtow and say YES -- who are sorely lacking in stepwise, methodical, logical reasoning.

By far the most able critical thinker I know is my dear husband, who never fails to strike me with his remarkable ability to think clearly and cut through a situation or discussion to its most valuable and relevant elements. This doesn't send your girlfriends into titters of "oooooh!" about your guy, but there's a solid reason I married him.

How do some get there and others not? I doubt it was from buying from catalogs like these.

As critical as I find critical thinking skills, I can't yet buy into the idea that they must be established in toddlerhood, or even childhood. I lean too far towards nature on the nature v. nurture argument. Some people are more inclined that way than others, and some just aren't -- thank goodness, because that's where out-of-the-box, creative, outrageous thinking and ideas come from. Some people are born with the inclination toward rational logical thinking, others are born with the inclination toward free random thinking; most of us fall somewhere inbetween. Each inclination greatly benefits from exposure and practice and experience in the other.

But selling "award-winning" "test prep" workbooks and toys oriented to paranoid parents who can't accept where their own kids fall on the art--science spectrum really irritates me. And that despite the fact that I tend to be a free-marketer: if you have a market for it and can sell it, go for it!

My life in a facts-ruled engineering department depends too heavily on critical thinking -- and the costs of its lacking -- for me to believe that this is important now, when my kids are still just kids. Maybe my thinking is rooted in the 1940s, or skewed by a firstborn who appears capable of little else besides critical thinking, but cripes, let kids be kids. Play, laugh, run, be silly, stare at the sky, cut a skein of yarn into 1000 tiny pieces as Katrina did tonight, be bored, draw random mazes, play for the hell of it and for no other reason. Not everything has to be "learning-oriented." I don't mean to be negligent in their education of course, but at this age (9-4), make it broad, make it cover the whole spectrum. The seriously critical thinkers and the seriously free thinkers will be so regardless.

Sell it if you can to the high-achieving set, but don't try to sell it to me.

6/2/2011

p.s. I may have to retract everything I just wrote after noticing that this otherwise offensive catalog contains a "Moral Dilemmas: What Would You Do?" set of books. I'll bet they've never dealt with a kid who's so literal that he needs active training in empathy.

6/1/2011 Coffee Night

Intensely stressful day, but mitigated with some sushi for dinner, relatively few kid problems (kicking Julian out to sit on the porch 4 times counts as relatively few around here) (oh yeah and Katrina had a rare meltdown but really that's in the noise), and some nice chatter with old friends. I'm REALLY psyched that one of those friends just got a new car -- she so needed and deserved it! All the kids she's always driving around will probably be grateful too. With my sister's family visiting soon, I've got to look into a minivan rental myself.

Some unwelcome excitement across the street tonight too: a loud domestic dispute (fight), lots of yelling, cars screeching around; then a firetruck, two ambulances and four police cars showed up. Usually our quiet block isn't a siren-magnet, but this one set of neighbors keeps 'em visiting every year or two. Their dump of a house is for sale; would someone PLEASE scrape up the $50K it'd take to demolish the place?

I'm very happy to put the last 24 hours behind me.

6/1/2011

5/31/2011 Tough Love

I got a call from Dave today as I was driving from work to pick up the kids, and had to interrupt a precious call with my mother.

"Just to warn you," he said, "the boys are in SERIOUS trouble today."

When I arrived at the CDC, I talked at length with the CDC Director about (mostly) Gabriel's trangressions, trying to contain my increasing irritation and frustration. Gabriel had ignored a fire drill, threw rocks at another kid, and had threatened to take off and just walk home. Any one of those by themselves is a major transgression. Three together, and where do you even start?

Julian's offenses were more typical: disobeying and disrupting, but nothing as serious as throwing rocks at kids.

I keep hearing from other grownups about how they wouldn't have dared to defy their parents, because of the threat of The Belt. For the first time, I told Dave on the phone, "That's it, this time, Gabriel really needs it." This isn't the first time we've dealt with Gabriel disobeying during a fire drill, but it is the first time we've dealt with throwing rocks at other kids, and in the same day.

I didn't say anything to Gabriel on the way home, instead telling him in low, curt tones to put his lunch away, wash his hands, and meet me upstairs. Dave got home early to deal with this too, and we quickly formed a plan: while I talked to Gabriel in our room, Dave would put away every single toy he has. We agreed that my talk with Gabriel would include a demonstration.

Dave started emptying toys from Gabriel's shelves, while I confronted Gabriel in our room. I first asked him if what we'd heard was true, and he said yes, with concern but without fear. I have to hand it to him -- he knew he was in serious doo-doo, but he still didn't lie or try to duck out.

Then I stepped it up and told him sternly that throwing rocks at kids and disobeying during fire drills is absolutely, completely, totally NOT ALLOWED. With no opportunity for explanation or excuse, I went into my closet and emerged with a belt. I explained that this is what parents used to do all the time to disobedient kids. I smacked it across a bench and told him that it would hurt. I then told him I was going to show him how it felt, and instructed him to pull his pants down and lie down on the bed.

Gabriel's face clouded over with anger and upset over what he saw was going to happen. "OK MOM," he said defiantly, "I'LL SAY I'M SORRY." I didn't waver -- appear to waver -- and repeated my instructions. He lay down, I told him to move his hands protecting his rear end, then raised mine with the belt, and then smacked the end of the 1" leather across his bare rear end. He didn't react at first, then he leapt up suddenly and screamed at the top of his lungs.

It was an out-of-body experience for me. Did I really just take a leather belt to my son's bare bottom?? Am I that kind of parent? Or am I a regular parent who's been pushed too far? What will the alternative crowd say? What will the traditional crowd say? Has either ever actually been pushed this far?

In truth, the actual impact was pretty minor. The real impact was in the shock value, and with that, I think I succeeded. He was really shaken.

But I succeeded in reaching him even more after leaving him alone for a few moments, then returning to explain to him firmly that all his toys were being put away. He was horrified, but still calm from the overall shock if the situation.

I sat down next to him with genuine dejection. "I don't know what to do, Gabriel. I just can't teach you that you must do what you're told sometimes. Maybe a military boarding-school camp can help, because I just can't seem to do it."

I told him how much I hate to waste our precious time together talking about his bad behavior, instead of hanging together. I told him that there's nothing I love more than being with him and talking to him, but instead here I am talking about his throwing rocks at other kids. I told him that I'm responsible for him, and that sometimes means doing things I hate, like whacking him with a belt or being apart from him. I told him I'm responsible for his behavior and responsible for how the other kids' mother feels.

I sent him to his now-empty room, locked myself in a bathroom, and cried.

It occurred to me that everyone I know who's remembered The Belt as a child hasn't actually used it as a parent. Even those that did in the Olden Days did so because that was just what was done -- not because they were dealing with a truly difficult child.

Most modern parents couldn't dream of resorting to The Belt -- but if do you try to dream it, first dream of months of notes from his teachers, countless apologetic complaints from the after-school care director, numerous explosive conflicts at home, and then -- just by itself -- imagine hearing that your child threw rocks at another kid, and then dream how the other kids' mother must feel.

Gabriel stayed in his room crying and threatening to kill himself (threats I shrugged off but in fact did make me run up and check him frequently) while I made dinner. I guess his crying that his life was horrible and not worth living means we got through to him tonight. It certainly got through to me.

Dave and I also dealt with Julian, who'd also had his problems today but much more on ordinary lines. Julian took keen note of how Gabriel's toys (except books, which are shared here) were all gone, and appeared wide-eyed and concerned when we warned him that he was next.

I see no benefit to depriving a kid of food, so Gabriel joined us for dinner, where he sat sadly for most of it. He cried at one point: "What could be worse than not spending time with you (me) and losing Bear?" I talked to him calmly and persuaded him to eat, after which he relaxed. I told him that if his behavior was PERFECT tomorrow - at school and at CDC, then we'd talk about how to start getting his toys back. I told him how much I love being with him and how it sucked that he had to choose rock-throwing over me.

To my amazement, he agreed without the usual massive resistance to write a letter of apology to the CDC director, who's gone WAY WAY out of his way to accommodate our special cases. He got sadder at first at Katrina's talk of Truckee and skiing, then got happier when I told him November was plenty of time for him to get his act together.

I actually don't believe The Belt is the answer. It's a piece of the answer to deal with immediate severe problems -- a "timeout" just doesn't cut it anymore. Tonight's demonstration was designed to lend weight to future threats, without the intent of employing it on a regular basis.

Still, Gabriel seemed far more deeply affected when I told him how sad it made me that we couldn't hang together and talk. He tuned out about how bad that the other kid and the other kids' mother must feel, but there was no doubt his demeanor changed when I told him how disappointed and sad he'd made me.

Like his father and grandfather, he's not one to form relationships lightly or with many people. He'll have very close long loyal relationships with a few people. Family is built-in for long close relationships, and none moreso than your relationship with your mother. Gabriel's father didn't have a particularly close relationship with his mother, but times were such that people accepted those things back then and didn't examine them, but I'm determined that not be the case with us.

It's already not the case -- Gabriel and I are very very close, and every day we have wonderful moments together. I'm completely sincere when I tell him that I think about him all the time, and that I love him completely, through my bones and my blood, no matter how mad he makes me. It's completely true that he's been there for the happiest times in my life -- not just the exciting times like skiing or camping, but even just our one-on-one yaks together after dinner when Dave is getting the younger two ready for bed.

I know I'm the key. I can get through to this extraordinary child. He really really needs me. I just don't know what lock or set of locks to use the key in, or which way to turn the key and how hard. I can't seem to find the way to influence him before the crisis happens. This is Tough Love for me.

5/31/2011

5/30/2011 Real Kids

Productive weekend! All weekends should be 3 days long: 2 for detox, then the 3rd to get something done.

I'm delighted that in addition to some indulgent gardening yesterday, I actually made a dent in our heaping garage project today. To the uninitiated eye, today's product still looks a major junkpile -- and it is -- but that little bit less means oh so much to me.

And I got a huge, out-of-control, rolling-on-the-floor laugh out of Gabriel when I found a box I'd labelled years ago as "Plumbing Crap." Dave also made a tremendous effort not to wince every time I proposed throwing away a torn rubber band. Getting rid of Stuff in a Garage is soooo hard for guys, but he did great.

Not all the day was so productive though. Our "fake" children -- deemed so by their absence of the self-identity-creating video games -- discovered another common childhood pursuit, thereby re-affirming their reality as children. I'm relieved it finally happened.

Yes folks, Gabriel has finally discovered Harry Potter!!


I didn't get a photo, but Julian (arguably the "family reader") was also absorbed for hours today in Harry's adventures in Book 1 (which mercifully we have two copies of -- I'm a fan myself!).

Katrina is never one to be left out of the action, and also spent a lot of time looking at the words, though there was no indication she was following the story. Katrina can read really well for her age, but her comprehension is about where you'd expect for a 4-1/2-year-old, and that's well below Harry Potter.


Lest you all think our children are too electronically deprived, each was allowed an hour on the computer today (after laundry of course), but children being children there was no delay of gratitude -- the boys chewed up their time early in the day. So it was up to good old Harry and Hogwarts to entertain them for the rest of the day.

That and Mom's sarcastic comments on box labels in the garage.

5/30/2011

5/29/2011 Gardening

I was pretty wiped out today despite a great start: meeting my friend Betsy at Rancho San Antonio at the ungodly hour of 7am to run. We ran to the farm, where I peeled off to tackle some hills -- I hated to miss the company of a running partner, but I also couldn't resist my beautiful Rancho and seeing some of the trails I haven't seen for months. It's so hard to park there on weekends, I don't even try anymore at decent hours. At 7am, there are still spaces.

Still, my chronic gastric issues bothered me on the run and had me lying down most of the rest of the day. But I had to get some plants under control today! Also, yesterday Katrina and I had gone to a home store to get some better pruners, but we also came home with some blue flowers, at her request, and it needed to be planted.

So though I really wasn't feeling very energetic, I had a great afternoon working with Katrina on the landscaping. We'd also gotten her some "Katrina-sized" gloves and kid-sized pruners. She was great at pruning, easily following my instructions about snipping something as far down as possible, and only the super-long ones. Not only was she great company, but she really helped! Her nonstop anthropomorphic chatter is delightful: "There, plant, now you can BREATHE again after your haircut!"





On another note --

Usually I don't pay much attention to Katrina's schoolwork, but for some reason I went through some of this Friday's preschool papers, and I was blown away to find this.


Dave said "Oh sure -- also, did you know about her homework file?" She'd put together her own "homework file," with a title page that says "funfile.com," and her own "math homework."


I guess I shouldn't be too surprised that a 4-1/2-year-old preschooler would be doing subtraction workpages, but I can't help but to be really amazed that she then comes home and does it on her own?!

A recent article in the NY Times talked about how Connecticut is considering moving its kindergarten age cutoff date up, so that 4-year-olds don't go to kindergarten. California recently did the same thing, but is phasing it in, so Katrina is still old enough for kindergarten this year (in 3 years, her October birthday would have held her back a year).

I'm definitely on the side of social readiness being far far more important than academic readiness for kindergarten. Fortunately, all agree that Katrina is socially ready for kindergarten too, though she'll be on the young side.

But if she weren't socially ready, we'd have something of a dilemma because though normally I dismiss academic readiness for kindergarten, I think this level of readiness would have to be considered. I can't imagine sending a kid who understands subtraction to another year of pre-K! Unfortunately, if she doesn't get past this "leaking" / accidents problem, that might well be what happens.

Meantime, I'm so glad to have such a pleasant and cheerful gardening companion!

5/29/2011

5/27/2011 Obsessed

OK, that's a strong title, but it sure seems it. I've been working WAY too much lately. Tonight until almost midnight, because a strange problem just HAD to be pursued.

I'm also working a lot because I feel like I have to cram it all in and learn as much as I can before my sorry rear end is canned, or worse, sidelined, because of my offensive transgressions of daring to question authority. (Hey, they had T-shirts for that, doesn't that mean it's allowed?) Being bored to death is worse than being fired, and since I've made an official complaint, firing is unlikely, but being given stupid useless busywork isn't. Meantime, I do have useful things to do and some of them tickle the perfectionist and detective in me. Odds are the problem I spent hours chasing today will turn out to be nothing, but realities like that don't sway the geek in me that just can't let it go.

Finally what makes me give it up is the sharp shooting pains in my back from sitting in one place too long. So what do I do? Get up and move to a different chair to sit down and blog.

I really really REALLY should have done something useful tonight, like watch Fashion Police. Other than a long talk with Gabriel after dinner, just shooting the breeze, it was probably a total waste. As if I could do any differently?

5/27/2011

5/26/2011 Shoe hole

This is what I'm talking about. For some reason, I was near Gabriel's feet tonight and noticed his shoes. Holes again/


These are brand-name brand-new shoes I got him after our trip to Death Valley -- they're barely FIVE weeks old!!

They'll never make it to four months. I'm sure the next time I think to check his shoes, they'll be shredded. I'm prepared this time, I have 3 more boxes of shoes for just Gabriel, but sheesh! How is a scatterbrained overloaded Mom to keep up?!

5/26/2011

5/25/2011 The Principal's Office

Whew -- today it was me and Dave who went to the Principal's office. This time, for a meeting with the principal, Gabriel's teacher, and the school psychologist who had observed him.

Gabriel's been much better-behaved lately, but the discussion was about broader concerns of his "social pragmatics." He does too many things that are just not within acceptable social norms; too many things that are blindly inconsiderate to others, inappropriate, and that interfere with his work and his classmates' work.

For example, in art class, when the art teacher announced that today was the last day of art, Gabriel blurted out, "GOOD!" He doesn't care if it hurts anyone's feelings or if it's inappropriate.

The psychologist also noted that often he's pushed away from his table, doesn't appear engaged with his class, he's off in his own world, tilting on his chair at times when the rest of the class is paying attention.

And then there's the humming. Behaviors to shut out outside sounds aren't all that unusual, but they're not all that common either. Gabriel hums and sings at times that really aren't appropriate, like when he's in a group that needs to be listening to what's going on.

The psychologist suggested we look into a series of books about "Social Stories," to help make him more aware with normal, sensitive, acceptable social interaction. I was struck, because it reminded me of last summer, when my thoughtful brother-in-law brought the movie "The Bridge to Terabithia" and showed it to all the kids. He did that with Gabriel in mind, thinking that it would demonstrate the notions of empathy and being aware of others' feelings. I suspect the lesson was lost on Gabriel, but it's not lost on me -- if we're to help him become more in touch with other people, and in turn, himself, it will be a gradual, incremental process.

Gabriel's teacher commented that sometimes Gabriel stays behind after class is over, just to talk to her. She also commented that she sees changes in him when there's something going on with me, like if I'm away or when I went back to work. Gabriel is such a not-sensitive kid that it's not easy to detect outside factors that affect him, but I am increasingly aware of how important a close relationship with me is to him. Of course, all kids need their mothers, but not all kids have the same level of emotional resiliency. Gabriel is the most emotionally resilient kid I know -- or is he? Maybe it's more like he concentrates all his emotional needs in a few places, in a few people. He's not the kind of person who makes many friends or who has (or at least expresses) deep need for approval or closeness with other kids or even adults. That's not to say he doesn't have it -- it's just harder to detect, and much harder to see when it's not being satisfied.

Gabriel's emotional makeup is so much like his father's and (paternal) grandfather's that it's almost frightening.

But Gabriel's father's relationship with his mother is nothing like Gabriel's relationship with his mother (that would be me), and I'm determined to continue that. It's just so hard to know when I'm doing something right or wrong.

I know some things I do very right with Gabriel, that he loves -- he really likes the active things we do together, which are also the highlights of my life. But we can't camp and hike and ski together every day; I need to fill in the gaps inbetween. It's not as simple as just spending more time together; often if we're both available he wants to do something else.

Another thing that came up several times in our meeting today, and this is a little weird talking about but maybe I've underestimated it, is that if the school district were still doing this, he'd probably be classified as "gifted." The school psychologist made sure to clarify that there are "high-achieving" kids and so-called "gifted" kids. Most who do very well in school are "high-achieving" -- motivated, commited, invested in their work. That's SO not Gabriel. He doesn't care. And he doesn't do well in school, to the point of frustrating teachers and aides because they sense that he's so capable.

"Gifted" kids are different from "high achievers" -- often they have social issues, they don't necessarily do well on tests (though many do), they show extraordinary talent in specific areas, and often fall flat in other areas, don't always fit in well to regular school, and just think differently. That IS Gabriel, to a tee. If our school still had a "gifted" program, his teacher would recommend him to it.

I'd have objected to a "gifted" program because I assumed that just means more work and competition for grades, plus I find the term "gifted" offensive. But from what we learned today, the former "gifted" program wasn't exactly for "high-achieving" kids, it was for weird geeky kids. I'm OK with "weird." I have to be -- my son sings and hums all the time and frankly can be pretty weird.

Anyway, in the end, we gave our permission for a "full assessment," a complete psychological profile that the school will do in August, partly to screen for autistic-characteristic traits and Asperger's. We talked about the flags Gabriel had as a toddler, but thinking has evolved in the past 6 years. Some kids who show minor signs, as Gabriel did, outgrow those specific signs as toddlers (spinning, lining things up), but then those traits manifest themselves in other ways when they're older. Definitions have changed too; Asperger's is now officially not on the autistic scale, it's its own syndrome. We were told when he was 4 that Gabriel most definitely was not an Asperger's kid (speech delay is not characteristic of Asperger's), but apparently that's been re-thought too.

This is exhausting. At least now I have a little more vindication of my frustration and struggle when he was the world's toughest toddler -- it's NOT ME! He really is different! But while I could do without struggle and being on first-name basis with the principal, I deeply, deeply love different. And weird.

5/25/2011

5/24/2011 More leaks

SO frustrating...Katrina's on a new roll: 6 straight days with at least one, usually two, changes of clothes. She's going to CDC with her brothers in 5 weeks, this HAS to stop!! They're not a preschool, there are no cubbies with boxes of extra clothes for those "oops" times for potty-training toddlers -- they're an after-school care place for school-age kids who are mature enough to handle their own toileting. This is getting downright frightening.

Meantime, tonight Katrina took it upon herself to write her own "calendar," including days of the week, to show when "boys don't get dessert." She's very used to the calendar coming out and getting marked for days her brothers have lost dessert for some or other offense (mostly one brother, who's not getting any treats until well into June). She also wrote down numerous years and "equations" that show how to calculate the years -- I think a preschool exercise gone awry -- but she clearly grasps the concept of years being identified by numbers and knows what this year is and when everyone was born (well, except me, since that was in a different millenium).

Her academic efforts say she's ready for first grade, never mind kindergarten, but her stinky leaky wet pee-soaked bottom says she needs to go back to the potty-training baby room at preschool. I don't need this!!

5/24/2011

5/23/2011 Gardening Day

My hands are sore!! I need an electric pruner -- do those exist? I attempted to bring our landscaping under control on Sundat, but all that snip-snip has made my thumb muscles exhausted and worn out my already-fragile wrist from repetitive stress syndrome. And I only whacked back a tiny portion of our fast-overgrowing yard!

Seeing how some plants grow out of control, while other pretty little ones are so well-behaved, makes me want to revamp our entire garden. Some plants just don't belong here; but many spots need more of the well-behaved ones.

In any case, it was great fun to garden with Julian, who picked up all my scraps and smooshed them into the rapidly-filling yard-waste can. He really was a help! I cut a LOT and he totally took care of it. That's what sons are FOR.

And we need some of Julian's favorite -- sticky monkey flower!

5/23/2011

5/22/2011 Paperwork

Too busy filling out forms to blog tonight. Summer means a lot of paperwork!!

5/22/2011

WWII plane ID

One of the fun things about going to the Collings Foundation tour, aside from flying on vintage military aircraft, is talking with the enthusiastic volunteers, who are all well-versed in WWII aviation history, both Axis and Allied.

I thought there was a good chance they could identify aircraft in some of my grandfather's pictures, and brought some of the tiny photos with me last year. This year, I had found one more photo and brought it with me.

My grandfather is the shorter man on the right, standing in front of what's left of an airplane. This one was bombed on the ground obviously; it didn't fly home like this. Judging by how the wheels are dug in, it had been here for a while.


Though there's not much plane left to identify, these aficionados were able to say this plane was most likely German because of the double wheels and the square-shaped fuselage.

A few other photos with intact airplanes had just enough detail to I.D. them as most likely German. In some, the swastika was the big giveaway.

(My grandfather is on the far right.)

These pictures are really darned small, about 2" x 2.5".


So this leaves the next mystery: where and when was my grandfather when he was posing with captured and destroyed German aircraft?

5/21/2011 B-24 flight

I flew on another WWII bomber plane today! The Collings Foundation is here for a week on their annual Wings of Freedom tour. The past two years, I've flown on their restored B-17. This year, it was time to try the B-24 Liberator.

This plane is pretty funky-looking. It's larger than the B-17, has a broader wingspan, and a big fat tall belly. This particular B-24 Liberator, named Witchcraft, is painted a dark color, making it look like something of an ominous apparition in the air.


Plus the nifty tail fins.


I "volunteered" to be up front on the flight deck for takeoff, which means sitting right behind the pilots. My seat was a tiny swivel chair, as opposed to a piece of plywood on the ground. But that meant I got one of the headsets and could hear the pilots talking to each other and to the control tower during takeoff.



I was amused that the few questions or confusions the pilots had ("is that on button number one or two?") had to do with this modern navigation system installed on the plane.


I was less amused by their discussion of what to do in case they had to abort after takeoff, but I felt better hearing that this runway is so long that it wouldn't be a problem. Yikes!

We wouldn't be needing this today.


Takeoff was by far the smoothest takeoff I've ever experienced on a plane. In fact, I didn't even know we were airborne, so I stopped the video early thinking I'd re-start when we were closer to taking off. Then I looked out the window and realized we were flying!


Like with the B-17, this is a military aircraft and a vintage one at that. Everything is out to see, there are sharp edges and things to bang your head on all over the place, many places open to the outside, and lots of doors and hatches that are designed for quick-release.

And getting from point A to point B involves some hands-and-knees action. I wasted no time going to the nose of the plane, which involves climbing down and crawling through the belly of the plane.


The nose was incredible. It's really small, but your head is surrounded by plexiglass and you can see on all sides, below and above tou. The noise, the wind rushing around, and the panoramic view make it almost feel like you're not in a plane at all -- just out there.





There's also a plexiglass view at the bottom part of the nose.


This is what I mean by "nose" -- the top area that's surrounded by plexiglass, where a gunner would sit; but at the bottom of the nose there's more plexiglass to see down (in an upside-down teardrop shape) -- that's the view in the previous photo.


There's also a curious little portal looking straight down.


It's remarkable looking out the window and seeing these old props keeping us in the air.


Getting to the back of the plane meant walking a catwalk to cross the bomb bay. This catwalk is wider and quite roomy compared to the B-17, but it's much longer, about 20 feet. The bomb bay doors below are meant for wind protection and quick-release -- not to hold someone who stumbles. I tried to imagine walking across the catwalk with the bomb bay doors open -- that'd be a trip.


This is what this same catwalk looks like with the bomb bay doors open (on the ground) -- but they used to fly it this way too. What else are you going to do when it's time to blow away German munitions factories?


The side windows were completely open, making it easy to take shots at imaginary Japanese Zeros. I was surprised how hard it was to move the gun around in the wind.


This small side window had plexiglass, so was easier to look out without being blown around. You could see and track the shadow of the plane from there.


(Shadow at bottom center.)


The tail was also remarkable. These spots are intended for a person of apparently about my size to slide their legs down into a pretty small space and sit on a small piece of wood (perhaps added by the Collings Foundation restorers, as were the "seatbelts") and shoot at the enemy. Another panoramic view, with the interesting sensation of following the plane.


When it came time to land, everyone took the nearest spot, but there was one person left over (musical chairs!). Being among the more agile (and younger and smaller) of passengers, I volunteered to scoot quickly to the front of the plane, and zoomed around the ball turret and across the bomb bay catwalk and up to the flight deck -- only to find that it already had 3 people.

The flight engineer motioned for me to sit below the flight deck, in the belly part of the plane that you have to crawl through to get to the nose.


Uh, really? Is this allowed? With the landing gear down, the space around the nose wheel was completely open, and the wind was REALLY strong. I could barely breathe in the wind. The flight engineer offered to move me up to the flight deck where it was more protected, even if there were 3 guys there already. No way, I wasn't missing this, breathing or not!

This was a really amazing, terrifying and thrilling experience all at the same time. It was SO loud and windy. Worse, or better, I could see all around the wheel, so I could see the ground getting closer and closer. I couldn't take my eyes off the runway as we approached it, and had the closest sensation possible to what it must be like just before a crash. The wind got much stronger just before touching down, and seeing the runway rush up at us from my spot about 3 feet off the ground was pretty shocking. Despite the intensity of hearing, feeling and seeing the landing so up close, the landing was really really smooth.

The landing from my stowaway vantage point behind the nose wheel was really exciting and amazing and I'm so happy I got to experience that!

Where I sat for the landing (though facing away). The red flag on my left points down to the nose wheel, and it's all open around it.


The landing. The video doesn't show much, but the white spots are where everything is open. I'm still not sure what was freakier: the wind or being able to see the ground rushing up (which unfortunately the video doesn't show). Touchdown is right at the end of this, but you really can't tell.


Taxiing after landing, a not-great panorama, but here's the view of where I was.


I took the kids to walk the planes the next day. Gabriel demonstrates about where I sat for the landing, just behind him.


In front of the Liberator. I actually think this one was more fun to fly in than the B-17, though I wouldn't trade my B-17 experiences for anything. I have great respect for the B-17's hardy reputation, and I'm always about function over form.


From everything I've read about the B-24, including the best-seller "Unbroken" which I'm halfway through, it wasn't the airmens' favorite because it wasn't as robust as the B-17. The B-24 flew faster and smoother and carried a heavier payload, but the B-17s were known for getting guys home on just one engine or practically blown apart and for doing better in water landings. The B-24 had a very different feel to it than the rougher, smaller B-17, but I take the reports to heart that if you really were under fire from anti-aircraft flak or enemy fighters, or were about to make a crash water landing, you really were better off in the B-17.

Regardless of which WWII-era vintage aircraft you're riding in, it's unimaginable that guys would be up in these planes for hours at a time, with oxygen masks, being shot at. My comfy half-hour on the plane gives barely a teensy inkling of what that must have been like, and makes what I read all just a little bit imaginable.

A joy ride in history!


5/21/2011

5/19/2011 Sleepy Boy

Once again, Dave and I were both called at work because one of our children was sent to the principal's office. This time, it was because Gabriel fell asleep in class after a field trip. He slept soundly in the office until Dave was able to pick him up, just after school was dismissed, well over an hour after we were called.

Can I just say: ARRRRGGGHGHGHHHH!!!!

Can we possibly make it through a single week without getting called by the school? What will it take to get off their speed-dial?! This is out of control!!!!

Gabriel wasn't sick, he was acting fine this morning, and acted fine when Dave picked him up. For the record, they had no screen time last night, and while lights were off later than usual (as is usual on soccer nights), lights were still off by 8:45. I had to drag Gabriel out of bed this morning at 7:15am, which if my math is correct, adds up to over 10 hours of sleep. The boys went to sleep unusually calmly last night and didn't wake each other up this morning.

Really, this isn't our fault. It can't be. Otherwise, we're screwed, and so is the school. We do all the right things. We follow the modern magazine advice. We're positive yet firm. We balance time together with fostering independence. But whoever's writing the magazine articles isn't having their kids sent to the office pretty much every week for one reason or another. I'm increasingly convinced it's just biology, it's just the kids themselves.

Tonight when Julian was at Kung Fu, I was trying to wrap up a comment on my work laptop before making dinner, and Dave was trying to catch up work after missing the afternoon to pick up Gabriel and the kids, and we were distracted by the most delightful sound. Katrina in the dining room was singing and chatting happily to herself about the "magic castle" she was coloring (some Barbie coloring book and colored pens with glitter), and alternating between random singing and talking in a sing-song voice about the little magical world she'd created.

I once thought this little-girl stuff would be barfsville for me, but it was so powerfully, totally adorable, cute and unequivocably compelling. Who can work when our little girl is being SO sweet as just...a little girl? Dave also can't resist her. What a stunning contrast to her rude, defiant, smart-mouthed obnoxious brothers -- who I adore totally but who really need a mouth-washing-out with soap.

After they wake up from class that is.

5/19/2011

5/18/2011 Pre-K Girl

Off to Coffee tonight!

But first -- Katrina's "official" pre-K graduation photo. The photographers take them unless you request they don't, then they do everything they can to get you to buy them on a designated show-and-pay day: robo-calls, sending home flyers, putting a reminder sticker on the child's clothes the day before.

It works of course. What mom could resist this beautiful little face? I parted with $61 in a flash.


5/18/2011

5/17/2011 Home again

Surreal. Walking into my house, back into my life, this afternoon, it was like it all never happened, or happened in a dream. In dreams, it all seems so real at the time, then the life you were just living in vanishes in the moment you woke up. That's sort of how it felt walking back into my house today.

Did I really fly back East, into a green rainy world, and go to the house of my childhood, and then be surrounded by family and friends to say goodbye to my father? Did we really visit his gravesite, and really feel ashes and rocks slip between our fingers as we scattered his remains -- him -- in the fields he loved so much? As I stepped into my own bedroom and started thinking about all the laundry I had to do, it seemed so far away, even though this very morning I was there.

The service we had for my Dad was really wonderful. My sister, brother and myself each spoke, then we opened it up for other friends and family to speak as well. My 6yo niece read an Irish blessing, and my 9yo nephew sang a song accompanied by his father on the guitar. This for me was really the highlight, if there can be such a thing at a memorial service. My Dad himself would have been moved to tears seeing his grandson sing like that, so confident, so heartfelt.

"All the diamonds in this world," by Bruce Cocburn.


After the memorial at the funeral home, we had a reception the house in Stephentown that was my father's beloved home for over 40 years. Somehow as kids we named it La Maison Verte -- the green house -- even though whatever's not white has pretty much always been red. In all its rusticness, it was a perfect place to hold his reception.

I spent most of the reception getting to know Lea, a cousin I knew of but had never met. My father had two older half-sisters, and Lea is one of those sister's daughters. We have one grandmother in common, and our grandmother's second husband was my grandfather and Lea's step-grandfather, so she remembers him well . I was thrilled to find a living memory of my grandfather (she was born in 1943 and is more my mother's generation than mine). Lea has done some research on our family history on ancestry.com, and she was fascinated to hear what little bits of family history I've figured from old photos, so we will most certainly be following up together.

(left to right: my brother Ronan, me, our cousin Veralea, my sister Stephanie)

My sister and brother and I shared an incredible odyssey together the past 5 years or so, supporting each other in different roles of managing our father's life. It is a real testament to my father -- and mother -- how we embraced our responsibility together and cooperatively in the formidable job that is caring for someone with dementia. It was so important and comforting to me to be with these two wonderful people during this time.


The one thing that's missing in all this grieving is the shock factor -- that doesn't happen after years of Alzheimer's. To my surprise, the sense of loss and sadness is no less. Though it might sound corny, it really is true that now I really can enjoy my father's memory now that I'm not burdened with guilt at "remembering" someone who's still alive. He's more real and present to me now than he has been in years.

And, as my laundry and my father's grandchildren remind me, life goes on.

5/17/2011

5/11/11 1st-grade performance

I left work today to attend Julian's spring performance at school.

When Gabriel was in first grade, the whole first grade did songs. Each class would sing a few songs, then the whole first grade did one together. This year, they split up the performances into one or two classes together at various times throughout the day. This made seating and parking and actually seeing your kid much easier.

This year, the first grade did some mini-musical plays instead of songs. Some kids played xylophones, while others had speaking parts. Julian was one of three "soldiers" in a story about "Stone Soup," in which 3 hungry soldiers arrive in town, and the townspeople try to save their food by pretending to make soup with stones. I couldn't quite follow the story actually, though it sounds familiar.

Julian's role as soldier meant a few things. One, it meant that he finished all his schoolwork yesterday on threat of being left out of the play altogether. Two, it meant that he wore a "costume" -- a helmet -- and a mike headset. Kids are terrible with mike headsets, and constantly had their hands at their mouths holding the mikes.

First, a soundcheck.


Julian as a soldier waiting to say his (mostly unintelligible) lines.


Toward the end, Julian joined the xylophone group.


Of course, the photo-op at the end. Notice how Julian, back row far right, is reaching out to touch a classmate's head. He can't quit pestering other kids for even 10 seconds.


He's friends with these kids, but the one in the red shirt is such a good friend that Julian has mostly alienated him and pushed him away. In fact, this happy smiling little boy is one of the reasons Julian went to the principal's office last week, because the poor kid was tired of Julian's constant physical play with him. (I'm not sure who the dark-skinned one in the middle is.) I passed the time before the show chatting with the kid's mother, mostly apologizing.


This was all very sweet and fun to see, at least for those of us whose kids had some speaking to do. I wondered if the parents of the xylophone kids felt gypped.

I brought Julian home with me after school, where I continued to work and he continued to putz around not doing his homework.

I really shouldn't even be working with all I have to do to prepare to leave for NY tomorrow, but with my impending absence I feel more pressure to get things completed.

It's also hard mentally to wrap my head around scanning photos of my Dad for his service coming up next weekend -- it's what I need to do, but it's a surprising emotional investment. I'm now past the initial shock of my father's passing, but it seems my coping mechanism has been to set it all aside. It's not working. When it does re-enter my mind, or rather when I re-enter that part of my mind, the pain and loss is as fresh as ever, and I burst into tears yet again. I guess this is what it's like losing a close family member, even one who was lost in many ways long ago.

A close friend wisely observed that I don't do well with finality. Never moreso has that been more clear than now, when for the first time in my life, I have to deal with the finality of the loss of someone close. I think this will be easier for me when I'm in my father's home and with my brother and sister this weekend.

5/11/11

5/10/2011 Laura and Gabriel

I am SOO behind in blogging....I give up trying to "catch up." We just can't keep up with all the events, especially not with wonderful in-laws visiting until last night, and all the trouble our dear boys are giving us right now. Not to mention keeping up with a challenging work situation, and arranging my trip to NY and my father's service.

Uncle Ryan was able to take a few photos while he was here, fortunately. This one really strikes me. Look how grown-up my son looks, and how beautiful my sister-in-law looks.


The same two together almost 9 years ago.


Laura's barely changed (stroke and astounding recovery notwithstanding), but Gabriel really has.

This picture will look very interesting in about 3 years when Gabriel hits puberty!

5/10/2011

5/8/2011 Fun weekend turnaround

We had such a nice relaxed (mostly) day with Aunt Laura and uncle Ryan, with lots of outdoor play. I got them these "dodge discs" toy that shoot light foam disks rapid-fire from a hand-mounted "gun" that can also be used as a deflector shield.

Katrina played too, but she's been a little out of it today with a cough, and enjoyed hanging with Aunt Laura.


Being so busy and tired this weekend, I did the few things I really had to do (flight reservations to NY next week), but that didn't include going through the boys' knapsacks and seeing what they had in store for us. Dave did it when he got home from being away for the weekend, and it was a nightmare.

Both boys had classwork they needed to finish at home. Gabriel's wasn't clear what it was supposed to be from, but he'd never mentioned it. Julian, we learned, had been sent to the principal's office again on Friday -- two days after getting sent twice -- for throwing other kids' lunchboxes around.

But alone with the Laura and Ryan and the kids -- those are the best times for everyone. I'm almost glad I didn't know about all that, or I'd have spent the whole weekend struggling to get them to finish their work, and looking for ways of punishing Julian for the principal office visit again. It just has to stop and there seems no getting through to them.

Didn't schools used to have "detention," where kids sit after school and finish classwork or homework, or do extra work if they were being punished for bad behavior? Something tells me that there's not much need for a detention room in Cupertino. Well, we certainly need one here.

Well, it was a fun weekend until discovering how un-fun it could have been if I'd had a chance to check their knapsacks on Friday!

5/8/2011