Dead Tigers

This post is concerning a lovely conversation I had with my mother around this time last year, "this time" meaning Football Season.

We were walking companionably along in a parking lot, possibly Hobby Lobby, and we saw an image similar to this:

My mom pointed to it and commented, "Now I don't understand that. I just don't see how that is showing support for Auburn. Do you get it?"

I was (understandably) confused by this, so I gave her a quizzical look and asked her what she meant. She elaborated: "Well, it's supposed to show support for Auburn, right?" I confirmed. "Well then, how is it supportive to act like you're driving around with a dead tiger in the trunk?"

I stared at her for a minute or two. Then, after I finished laughing, I explained to her that the point of the tail is to make it seem as if the CAR ITSELF actually is a tiger, what with the tail hanging off the back of the car just as it does the back of a tiger.

And now I am proud to say she knows and is no longer walking around with the idea that people are trying to pretend they have dead tigers in the trunks of their cars. Happy birthday, Mama, I love you!

Perspective

Perspective is a powerful thing, and it can change quickly. My perspective on several aspects of life has seen some things in a new light lately.

1. Texting and driving. Since the texting ban took effect in Alabama however long ago, I've sent maybe two texts while in the car, and have made/received less than 5 phone calls. Cause, you know, I don't want to get a ticket--I hate being stuck behind somebody driving the speed limit, can you imagine how frustrating it is to have to STOP and WAIT for a cop to write you a ticket? And then that slow person has just had that much more time to back up traffic EVEN MORE. But I digress. That's not what changed my perspective. A ban on something won't stop people from doing it. Seeing billboards and commercials and magazine ads won't stop people from doing it. What scared ME most was when I was on my way home from school one day. I was exiting off 65 south at Montgomery Hwy and going straight across to Lorna Road, and I was stopped at the light, third car back. The light turned green, and I had enough time to think, "WHAT'S TAKING SO LONG?!" before the little red Honda took off. The other light had been red for several seconds. And yet, that little red Honda got t-boned by somebody going over 50. 31 was shut down for awhile, and I'm sure both cars were totaled. It was LOUD. That's the worst wreck I've ever witnessed. Now, I don't know that the driver of that car was texting, but something distracted them from the road for a good 5 seconds or more. And that's what can happen in 5 seconds. I don't want to be the one responsible for totaling somebody's car, breaking somebody's leg, or killing somebody's child.

2. Prenatal care. Because I work in special ed, I see what can happen when you don't take care of your body, when your body is busy creating somebody else's body. I work primarily with a child who has Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. Just so you know, this is what alcohol exposure in utero does to a baby's brain:

This child is such a sweetie. Many kids with FAS can be aggressive, but he is not. When his medication is in full effect, he can sit at a table or on the floor, listen, and attend (somewhat) to a task. This doesn't mean he understands--what many kindergarten students come to school already knowing, he struggles daily to learn. Things like colors, numbers, shapes, and letters, and writing his name, things two- and three-year-old children know, he doesn't fully comprehend. Before his medication has kicked in, or after it has worn off, all self-control is left behind. He is incapable of keeping still, he constantly touches or pats his classmates, he makes inappropriate comments that get all the other kindergartners riled up, and he spontaneously attempts to do back-flips and lands on his head. When he's in that state, there's absolutely no way he's going to be able to learn efficiently.

I also have worked with kids whose disabilities are attributed to prenatal drug exposure--blindness, extra fingers, mood disorders, and mental retardation. Kids whose lives could have been so different. Don't get me wrong, each one is a blessing and I love each one for all that they are and all that they can be. But I see the frustration when a first-grader tries to write his name for the thousandth time and forgets how to spell it, or when a third-grader has to ask how to spell "him." And there's every chance that some of these challenges would be present even if every precaution was taken--but please, ladies, if you are of child-bearing age, even if you don't WANT children, take care of your body. I'm sure these kids' mothers didn't have malevolent intent, but the consequences are what they are, and it can't be changed. Some of these kids will never be independent. They will rely on others for care for the rest of their lives, robbed of the ability to make responsible decisions, control their impulses, or fill their own basic needs.

3. I'm grateful for so many more things in my life. I'm grateful that I have fruit flies to deal with at the moment (though I hate them too) because it means there's food in my kitchen. I'm grateful for the alarm clock that goes off at 5:45 in the morning because it means I have a job to go to, even if it's not the one I have dreamed of for the past 6 years. I'm grateful that I have twice as much laundry to do as I used to, because it means I have a husband who loves me and puts up with my erratic moods and various ailments, real or imagined (although I'd be grateful too if he'd put clothes IN the basket instead of NEXT to it, HINT OH HINT.) Finally, not to upstage the hubs, I'm grateful for the parents I have who have supported me (and us) when it was needed, whether I (or we) wanted it or not.

Yes, yes, I know, I've blathered on and you're probably all asking yourselves why you're bothering to read this far. Well, I'm done now. Go enjoy your weekend. Roll Tide.

Week X

School starts for kids on Monday, August 20th. This is the first week for teachers, although Monday and Tuesday all the regular classroom teachers (i.e. not me) were at AMSTI training. That means that the past two days I haven't had much to do. Today everybody came back, and we had a lovely 3-hour meeting about the following.....

We are on a six-day schedule. Monday will be Day 1, Week A. Our resource classes (art, music, computer, library, and counseling) are scheduled based on day number, not Art on Monday, etc.

Each Day 6 is a no-resource day and is reserved for meetings, especially for us special ed folks. Each class also has another day during the week with no resource class--it might be any day 1-5.

We also rotate counseling and library, each every other week. Some people have counseling during Week A, some during Week B. So if you have counseling on Day 3 during Week A, that means on Day 3 Week B, you'll have library.

AND IT CHANGES EVERY WEEK! Monday will be Day 1 Week A. The next Monday will be a Day 6. That means Tuesday will be Day 1 Week B.

This means that kindergartners NEVER know which resource they have, they just know that Day 6 is always a "bummer." It can be for teachers too, because that's one less outlet for busy kids and one less break during the day. But this may or may not affect me much this year because.....

WE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT WE ARE DOING. I am deadly serious. Well, okay, we know we will be helping kids with their schoolwork and helping coordinate therapies and services, but we have no idea how many kids, how old they are, or what type of services they will need. I heard today we may have as many as THIRTEEN KINDERGARTNERS with IEPs (individualized education plans) coming up and that is HUGE. We know of another two that we will definitely be servicing, but we don't know whose room they'll be in yet, which is kind of important because they will both need a LOT of services.

Two of our staff went to a training workshop about autism and communication today. Originally it was going to be me and April (the chick I'm working under) because we're supposedly the "early childhood" folks. But since Mandy has the self-contained class (the class for kids whose needs can't be met in a traditional classroom) they thought these kids might go in there with her, and we might not even have enough kids for an early childhood unit and me and April would just go all over for whoever, wherever, whenever.

Then we heard about these thirteen kindergarten kids. Who we know nothing about. Who may or may not be enrolled at our school.

Oh, did I mention we are supposed to start providing services for all these kids on the first day of school? At least 13 is my lucky number.

Second Post of the Day....

....in which I wonder if I may have Adult ADD. I've been sitting around reading blogs (well one blog, which led me to the second blog, which I am still reading. I have also been on Pinterest, Twitter, Facebook, and Gmail. I think I said that in my other post.) Anyway, one of the blogs I've been reading chronicles the life of a mom of four kids, all of whom have special needs ranging from ADHD to Asperger's. She herself has also been diagnosed with Adult ADHD and I just read a post about how she just started medication for it and how wonderful and productive she felt that day. Now I am a firm believer in Better Living Through Chemistry, and if medication has helped solve, or at least maintain at a functional level, my anxiety, depression, and GERD, then if I have ADHD and something out there can make me more functional and doesn't cost a billion dollars, then why not?

Now first of all I don't want you people to go thinking I have self-diagnosed (even though I sort of have) and am running out this minute to purchase black-market speed. Are you crazy? That crap is probably WAY expensive and if I get an actual diagnosis by a doctor who I already see on a monthly basis, then I can get a generic for like $4 a month instead of $4 a pill. So stop worrying, Mom, this is not just a quest for more medication, it's just a quest for productivity.

Which brings me to the reason I started writing in the first place. I'd love to be a more prolific blogger--who wouldn't love to make a living swigging coffee and playing on the computer in their pajamas all day?--but I have just never been able to keep at it for any length of time, usually more than about 2 weeks. This one has been the exception, but as you can see in my posting history, I'm still sporadic at best.

So the real real reason I started writing was to chronicle my journey from reading blogs to Doing Something Productive. I was talking to Bob about the symptoms of ADHD that I have--not the hyperactivity, but never being able to finish anything (like a sentence) such as washing dishes. It is only through God's good grace that we ever have clean dishes, because this blessed apartment has a dishwasher. But some things either can't be washed in it or just don't fit. So I have a habit of putting things in the dishwasher and whatever doesn't fit just has to wait. I'll wash what I need if it's urgent, but usually it waits several days. Or Bob washes it. (That's usually what happens.) I'll get started, and halfway through decide I am done, and go wandering off. Sometimes I leave washed, but still wet, dishes in the sink and they get dirty again just by association with the yet-unwashed dishes.

Well, I decided I was GOING TO WASH DISHES, DAMMIT (sorry Mom.) I actually said this to Bob, in hopes it would help me finish the job. I said, "I am going to wash the dishes, just you watch." And then he didn't say anything. I watched the back of his head. He did not turn around to watch as I had commanded. So I said, "Did you hear me?" Then he turned around and I repeated what I just said. I went in the kitchen and looked at the dishes. Then I realized that I had to go to the bathroom. And I had a headache. So I went to the bathroom first so I didn't forget to. (Yes, I HAVE forgotten to go to the bathroom.) As I was getting on with it, I thought, "I need to remember to get some headache medicine while I'm in here. Did I weigh myself today? I don't think so." So I weighed myself. Then I washed my hands and thought, "I need to get some hand soap for the kitchen sink so I'm not always using Dawn every time I need to wash my hands. The sink is dirty. Should I wipe it down now? I have those Clorox wipes conveniently under the sink for occasions just such as these. No. I am on a Mission. To Wash Dishes. This can wait. I need to get medicine." So I reached into the medicine cabinet and doled out my two acetaminophen and single ibuprofen, noticing that we were dangerously low on both. "I need to check these off on my grocery list so I don't forget." I left the bathroom, took the medicine with me to where the grocery list (which is one of two, both of which have a magnetic strip on the back to hang on the fridge--neither of them is on the fridge) sat quietly on the coffee table. I searched for a pen and checked off pain reliever and hand soap on the list (haha! I remembered!)

Now, as you may have forgotten, my Mission is to Wash the Dishes. To actually Finish. I put up the clean dishes--a spoon, a pot, and a bowl, which I placed on top of the stack then rearranged because we have Fiestaware and I don't like two dishes of the same color to be stacked directly on top of one another.

Hold on, I have to check my email. I signed up for this ADD newsletter about how to manage things and get them done when you have ADD and I just got like 5 emails from it and I can't stand having that number in parentheses staring at me, waiting.

Okay. Focus. Focus focus. I checked my email, which included a link to the "Clear Clutter the Fantastic Never-Tried Way That I Have Developed Just For You Because I Am A Psychologist and Very Special Human Being" document. I opened it and started reading--well skimming, cause it was a lot of garbage I probably don't really need--and found a whole lot of stuff that, sure enough, I already know. Small steps, duh. Have everything you need before you start, duh. I KNOW THAT. The point is that I just don't do it. Then I hopped back over a couple of Chrome tabs and looked back at the Mommy blog for a minute and realized I was in the middle of writing a blog post. (This happens every time I write a post, I'm just trying to illustrate my logic behind thinking I may have ADD.)

So. The dishes. I poured the water out of the soaking chicken dish from Thursday, ran the disposal, and proceeded to wash it. Then I washed the colander. I put some silverware into the dishwasher, along with a coffee mug. I washed another dish, and a pot that had some residual water staining on it and I didn't know if it was just hard water or actually dirty. Then I had to dry those dishes so I had room on the mat for the dishes I still had to wash. I put one up, then had to rearrange it all because one dish had to fit inside another and it was full of pot lids. Now I return to the remaining dish, which is leftover from when I tried to make no-bake chocolate peanut butter oatmeal cookies yesterday, which did not set up right and now I eat them out of the pan with a spoon. They're still good, I just couldn't take them to Sally's for dessert last night so I ended up having to go by Gigi's and get some cupcakes. They were awesome, but they use too much icing I think, and also it was 5 p.m. on a Friday in June and traffic was awful.

Anyway, the pot is all sticky with chocolate and sugar residue, and little bits of oat are cemented to it, so clearly the best thing to do was to put hot water in it and let it soak, probably for several days.

Sleep Schedule Fail

So at about 11 last night, I thought to myself, "Self, you must utilize your access to prescription medication with the objective of getting a full night's sleep, else you will fail parlously in any endeavor in which you partake tomorrow." Or something like that.

Well at 8:30 this morning I awoke to hear my cell phone alarm dingling away happily in the kitchen, and I staggered out of bed to silence it. I considered, briefly but not seriously, staying up, and then I staggered back to bed, thinking I'd sleep for another hour or so and then get up and do something.

Fast forward to time of waking. Roll around bed for awhile, sit up and put on glasses, smack phone to turn the light on and it's 1:30.

Obviously the day is over and there is no point whatsoever in trying to actually do anything, so all I have done all day is sit on the couch or floor and read blogs, check Pinterest, Facebook, Gmail, and Twitter. With the TV on in the background. Occasional snacks.

While I enjoy days like these on some level, and in fact during the course of the day do not actually feel any desire to do anything, I always like having the feeling at the end of the day of HAVING done something. I have done NOTHING today. AT ALL. This just makes me a failure at so many things, but my logic is, since I have already failed for the day by sleeping until 1:30, there is no longer any point in trying, so I might as well just do whatever the hell I want. So there.

I've Never Liked Musical Chairs

Musical Chairs is one of those games that just sucks. Somebody's going to be out, and it's always by the skin of your teeth that your butt misses the invisible line that divides the chair in half, while the other person smugly wiggles just a smudge and you fall off. Then everybody points and laughs, and you have to go stand dejectedly on the sidelines while everybody gleefully rejoices in their chairs, safe for another round. But even if you survived that round, you always have that innate fear, that sneaking thought in your mind: I could be next.

But what if they mixed it up and made it even MORE risky? What if all the players were blindfolded, and after each stop the referees (what else would you call them?) remove MULTIPLE chairs--it could be one, it could be all BUT one. And then they hide the rest. So when the music stops, not only are you worrying about how many of you won't get a seat, but you're also scrambling frantically about the room looking for the chairs, wasting precious time at every corner that turns up blank. So at the end of each round you have people standing, bewildered, in the middle of the room wondering, "Did we miss one? Is there a chair still out there? Do I still have a chance?" while the seated onlookers are taking a deep breath and thinking, "Thank God it's not me."

Well, that's how this week at school has been. We thought they took out three chairs, maybe more--turns out two of the people left standing managed to find chairs in hidden corners. Only one chair got snatched, and it belonged to the person I'm going to miss the most. She's okay with it, though; more okay than I am, probably.

I got a chair, but it's one of those that's made for toddlers. It's a chair, but slightly too small for my rear end and if Bob tried to sit on it with me, it would collapse. (That's a financial metaphor, by the way.) Bob's playing his own game at the moment, and hopefully he'll find one of those big throne-like La-Z-Boys hidden behind a curtain somewhere, one big enough to hold both of us, even if we're a little cramped. Of course, best case scenario is that we each manage to find a chair that is an appropriate size for one person. But nobody knows where those chairs are, or if they even exist right now.

I have had an idea that I think would be quite the viral YouTube sensation: Synchronized Roll-y Chair Dancing. Think of it: Ten people in rolling, spinning office chairs, whirling in and out of one another in a perfectly choreographed routine set to "Pumped Up Kicks." Amazing, right?

Screwing with the Universe

Ever have those days where you feel like the universe is just playing with you, and you want some way to get back at it? Today was one of those days.

Earlier today at school, I was going through sight words with a kid. I would ask her to tell me the word and she'd say, "I don't know." Now this is her strategy for whenever she doesn't want to work--just say you don't know, and hope they leave you alone. This same child remembered something entirely new we taught her two weeks ago and haven't discussed since. I KNOW she knows more than she lets on, which can be frustrating because she could be advancing so much faster if only she would realize it! But little kids don't think that way.

Anyway, I just got in the, haha, take that! kind of mood a little while ago. So I posted a Facebook status soliciting people to shoot the chickadee outside my window. (If my grandmother were dead, she'd be rolling in her grave, but she's alive and if she checks Facebook, she'll probably scold me. Life goes on--it won't be the first time. I love her dearly, and she's taught me a lot.)

Let's get this straight--I don't like birds. I know that's a blanket statement, and in fact it isn't entirely true. I don't hate ALL birds. I just don't like the boring, annoying ones--the ones that sit outside your window at ridiculous hours of the day and night screeching, who don't do anything cool like hunt small animals and other birds, or who can't be considered for purchase in the poultry aisle at Publix. I do, though, have a vendetta against a particular gaggle of geese that lives in the Inverness area, because they will regularly take up residence in the road and refuse to move even when you nudge them with the bumper of your car. I also have a vendetta against ALL swans--this is another story, though.

So anyway, the point to this post is that today my mission is to stick it to the universe in as many small ways as I can. The first way I chose today is to look up a very specific recipe for chicken, and then purposely get "creative" with it. I don't think it will have a major negative effect--rather than use lemon, for example (because I don't have any, they are expensive, and I don't like them), I sliced some onion and threw some minced garlic in there. I am kind of winging it with the rest of it, but with chicken, potatoes, and green beans in a pan with olive oil, onion, and garlic, it can't be that bad as long as it's all cooked, right?

Way #2 that I am showing the universe who's boss: I'm drinking Pepsi out of a Coke glass. Small, I know, but it's the little things that give you satisfaction.

Oh, and back (way back) to what I was saying about my Facebook post about asking people to shoot the bird? Well, underneath that, I posted a comment about what I'm doing tomorrow--volunteering at the Humane Society. Being hypocritical in a way that doesn't hurt anybody satisfies the rebellious streak in me. Which is good, usually it's asking me for chocolate and caffeine and battling my will for a happy tummy.

Such is life. Sometimes you get along, and sometimes you don't, and either way, it's the little things that matter.