Summer Kickoff 2015!

You may remember the ill-fated Ice Cream Party of 2014, wherein many tears were shed over un-earned toppings and sprinkles.  We had set up our end-of-the-school-year-ice-cream-party as one that was conditional upon the kids earning each part of their sundae by memorizing times-tables.  Ellie had particularly struggled with both the math memorization and the sad consequences of slow progress.  It was flat-out no-fun for anyone.

We have since learned that Ellie has several learning disabilities a blocked sensory gate that includes dyslexia, memorization problems and struggles with math concepts.  She also has an auditory processing component, and does not do well at all with instructions that are spoken.  Picture a bunch of items in a certain order on a conveyor belt being sent through a door, only to go to the other side to you where you find all of the items jumbled together in a big, indecipherable mess.  That is what it is like for her to follow verbal instructions.  Her testing has shed so much light on her questioning "What?"  in response to every direction.  What appeared to be lack of attention and laziness all this time had actually been a real learning problem. I feel so badly that we hadn't learned this all sooner in her life, and particularly bad when I reread last year's post.  I can see so easily how a child with a learning disorder can be so misunderstood.  All she needed was for someone to recognize her struggles. I am glad, at least, that I asked for more help from our Educational Supervisor through our charter.  She brought me testing materials and an at-home therapy program, and we haven't looked back.  Better late than never, right?

So last year's ice cream party was pretty much a set up for failure for Ellie.  

This year we held the party again, but this time it was not conditional on a one-size-fits-all requirement.  This time it was based solely on effort.  And I am pleased to announce that Ellie's efforts have been true.  She does her reading therapy diligently.  She reads endlessly, though she grows tired easily.  She has worked to memorize the Articles of Faith of our religion, and though she has made very slow progress, it is progress, and I am proud of her efforts.  She was able to relax knowing that she didn't have to attain a seemingly impossible goal, which also seemed to help a lot.

And she got an awesome sundae with ALL the fixin's.  

(And I pray I never make a mistake like that one again, but I know I probably will!  Parenting is so challenging!)

A while later we dove into summer!

Our sweet neighbor Betty and her family let my kids pee in their pool. 

I mean swim!  

But who are we kidding?  No matter how many times I remind him, do you really think Jonah tells me every time he has to go?  That means getting out into the nippley air and walking all the way to our house to peel off last summer's hand-me-down orange shark trunks to piddle, and then somehow squeegie them back on again.  I question the boy's urinary integrity.  

Then there is Natalie.

I mean, just look at that face. 

 I think she's doin' her bizness right there!  

Thank the heavens above for chlorine!

(Swim diapers are made by, and bought by, adults in denial, choosing to ignore the reality that a wet swim diaper CANNOT and DOES NOT catch or hold a single drop of of pee.  It is more like a strainer.  I'm pretty confident it would hold little brown floaters and sinkers, but that's about it).

(I think I just successfully got us uninvited to Betty's pool in the future.  If you're reading, Betty, I'm just kidding!  My kids would NEVER do such a thing!  (I hope!) We love you!!!!)

My friend Ellen once told me that each member of a family plays a roll, and one of the rolls is "mascot".  Yup.  That's Nanobot.  She was never not in someone's arms while at the pool.  She was passed from Ellie, to the boys, to daddy, all evening long.

Oh,

 to be so adored.

All in all we had a splashingly great summer kickoff!  And there's more to come!  Once I get you passed all of the back-logged birthday and graduation posts, you will get to hear about our Now-In-Progress family vacation to a fabulous location, which includes sand, water and lots of sunblock.  

To be continued!

Math and Mercy

All year we have been looking forward to the last day of school.  Yah, 'cuz duh, it's the last day, but also, because of the ice cream.

The kids worked this year on memorizing times tables, and as incentive, the moms (Kathy and I) dangled a banana-split flavored carrot - first kid to memorize all of their times tables got to have a banana split party, hosted by the other family.  Each item in the sundae was connected to a number... 0's = Dish, 1's = spoon, 2's = banana - you get the idea.

Of course, Owen won the honor of not hosting the party by finishing first.  He knocked it out of the park, as usual.  The rest of the kids dragged along learning just the easy ones, or the ones that were coupled with their favorite items.  Tessa realized she had only earned a banana and sprinkles, and moved ahead to earn some ice cream before bothering with toppings (6-9) or a cherry (12).  Ellie puttered along, not trying too hard, and not making much progress.  She figured she had time to spare. 

The day arrived for the party.  I told my girls they had to actually know the tables, not just have checked them off weeks ago, only to have forgotten them.  It was then they realized that they hadn't earned much.  Time was almost up.  There ensued a mad rush to learn and earn toppings.  But it was too late, and Ellie found herself with only a banana and two scoops of ice cream earned.  Tessa had a banana, one scoop and sprinkles, but seemed to take it in stride, knowing that this would not be the last banana split she would ever eat in her life.  But as we were dishing up the fancy treats into fancy boats, I noticed we were one child short.  Ellie had gone missing.

I wandered the house and found her under her quilt, tear streaked and tragic.  She was sad to be missing out on all of the choices, she was miffed that there had not been more time (only 4 months!), and she was embarrassed, first that her sundae would show to everyone in the room how little she had earned, and also that she had been, as she put it, "a cry baby".

I tried to comfort and encourage, but the bottom line was this: she had made her choice when there was time to choose, and now, in fairness to everyone, she must live with her choice.  But it broke my heart.  I remember missing out on a party that my 5th grade teacher offered each Friday to kids who had gotten all of their homework in.  I had cried, and the teacher wanted to just let me come to the party, but I knew I didn't belong there.  That almost felt worse.

As Kathy and I tried to coax Ellie out to enjoy what she had earned, we exchanged troubled expressions with each other.  We knew how much this hurt her on the pain-scale of an eleven year old girl.  We knew we had to be fair to the kids who had worked hard for their reward.  As Kathy and I scooped ice cream for Ellie, we found ourselves being a bit generous with the size of scoops we gave her, somehow compensating a little for what would not be there.  We wanted badly to show her Mercy.  It was so tempting to just give her a full sundae, but it wouldn't be fair to the rest.  I think "fair" was redefined for me that day in some subtle ways.

I have always told my kids, "Fair is not 'everyone gets the same'.  Fair is 'everyone gets what they need.'  It would be fair if we all got wheelchairs, but we don't all need them."  The lecture resolves with me explaining how the perceived injustice they are whining about now isn't what they need, necessarily.

I am learning that just as the reward was tailored to the effort of the individual, in the future I need to consider the requirement.  We had not required Jonah to do any of the math memorization.  He's three.  Lauren had memorized a few addition and subtraction facts, but earned her whole sundae, not for what she retained, but for how hard she tried.  But we had clumped all of the other kids together just because of their ages, neglecting to consider temperament and attention levels.  Maybe that wasn't quite fair.

I think in the future I would have a different set of expectations for each child.  One might be based on effort, another, quantity... speed, scholarship, time spent; possibly as many ways as there are children.  It would seem that in this way both Justice and Mercy may be served.

Ellie didn't eat her ice cream until the Jensen's had gone home that day.  By then she had been able to enjoy it a little.  She came to me later and asked if we could try again, feeling that next time she knows she would work harder.  I told her that sounded like a great idea.  Second chances and Mercy go hand in hand.