Our 26 month old son talks pretty well for his age. He has a pretty vast vocabulary, thanks in part to his ridiculously verbal older sister, and he strings together six to ten word sentences like a pro. While he has been talking for a while, the quantity and duration has greatly increased in the past few months. One of the things he is now obsessed with is talking on the phone. He wants to call my husband at work, his grandmother on both the phone and Skype and his great-grandmother at home as well.
Most of the time I indulge him, he'll talk for a few minutes, lose interest, and then think it is hilarious to hang up on whoever he is talking to. Today, however, he was upset and wanted to call his grandma. So, I dialed, gave him the phone, and then continued putting laundry away. I could hear him talking for a couple of minutes and went in the room a couple of times to tell him to say goodbye. Each time he said no and went back to talking. I finally got tired of waiting and went into the other room.
Twenty minutes later he brought the phone in to me. According to my mom, he talked to her the entire time, telling her about why he was upset (I hurt his feelings), what he did today (went to the gym and played), and a variety of other things going on in his world. Such a crack up.
I figured when my daughter reaches a certain age the phone will become permanently attached to the side of her head. What I didn't count on is that the same scenario is now a distinct possibility for my son.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Weekend Getaway
The fish that the kids liked to go and watch.
My son in the pool.
My daughter (in pink) in the pool with some random folks in the background.
My husband and son conked out.
Saturday morning I had spent ten minutes outside doing some light gardening and when I came back inside I was just dripping wet. I wanted nothing more than to just jump in a pool. So, spur of the moment I tried to Priceline a room at one of the handful of resorts here in town. No surprise that our low price was accepted....Tucson isn't really a desirable place to be during the summer months....so we quickly packed our swimsuits, sunscreen, hats, and some clothes and headed to the Hilton.
My son in the pool.
My daughter (in pink) in the pool with some random folks in the background.
My husband and son conked out.
Saturday morning I had spent ten minutes outside doing some light gardening and when I came back inside I was just dripping wet. I wanted nothing more than to just jump in a pool. So, spur of the moment I tried to Priceline a room at one of the handful of resorts here in town. No surprise that our low price was accepted....Tucson isn't really a desirable place to be during the summer months....so we quickly packed our swimsuits, sunscreen, hats, and some clothes and headed to the Hilton.We spent the next 24 hours either in the pool or sleeping. It was wonderful. The kids had a great time and there was just enough breeze that at times we were even chilly in the pool. My daughter would seriously live in a hotel if we could afford it. She loves everything about "hotel life": room service, comfy beds, constant swimming, water slides, and just exploring outside. My son, while he loved the swimming, asked constantly to go home. He even woke up most of the night crying because he wanted to go home. If I could have slept with him in the pool all would have been okay, but he is definitely a home body.
Anyway, we are back home. Back to reality and sweating again. What was your weekend like? Did you do anything fun or exciting?
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Tender Feelings
I am four years older than my brother A and ten years older than my brother T. Because of this, there is quite a bit of my brothers' childhood that I remember vividly. One of the things that sticks out most to me is how tenderhearted both were. They were so sensitive and got their feelings hurt if someone simply looked at them wrong. There were numerous occasions where they would end up running from the room in tears because their feelings were crushed.
My son is the same way. He is so sensitive and tenderhearted and always so cognizant of others and their feelings. He dissolves into tears if his sister ignores him, his father speaks sternly to him, or if I give him a look that he feels is anything less than loving. It can be heartbreaking. Usually, when this happens he will let me hold him and comfort him until he calms down.
Lately, however, he screams for my husband. He's utterly beside himself crying, "Call my daddy now."He won't stop until I call my husband at work, at which point my son gets on the phone and tells him his sob story....it usually involves his sister not sharing, his sister taking a toy, waking up on the wrong side of the bed, and his mommy not letting him go to the store naked. Things like that. In the past few weeks my husband probably takes five or six calls a day with my screaming son on the other end. I feel horrible interrupting him, however my son will simply not stop the hysterics until he can talk to his daddy.
So, for now I suppose my husband will just have to continue fielding calls to comfort our tenderhearted boy.
My son is the same way. He is so sensitive and tenderhearted and always so cognizant of others and their feelings. He dissolves into tears if his sister ignores him, his father speaks sternly to him, or if I give him a look that he feels is anything less than loving. It can be heartbreaking. Usually, when this happens he will let me hold him and comfort him until he calms down.
Lately, however, he screams for my husband. He's utterly beside himself crying, "Call my daddy now."He won't stop until I call my husband at work, at which point my son gets on the phone and tells him his sob story....it usually involves his sister not sharing, his sister taking a toy, waking up on the wrong side of the bed, and his mommy not letting him go to the store naked. Things like that. In the past few weeks my husband probably takes five or six calls a day with my screaming son on the other end. I feel horrible interrupting him, however my son will simply not stop the hysterics until he can talk to his daddy.
So, for now I suppose my husband will just have to continue fielding calls to comfort our tenderhearted boy.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
The Joys of Teaching
One of the things you learn fairly early on in your career as a teacher is to not expect a lot of appreciation from either parents or students. I suppose nobody goes into teaching for the money or fame, anyways. However, one of the nicest compliments, in my opinion, is when a student thanks you or otherwise expresses his/her appreciation for what you have done. Over the years I have had former students thank me for helping them, believing in them, being patient with them, teaching them, showing them a real world application to my lessons, giving them boundaries, setting high standards and then holding them to them, and the like. The majority of the time these words of thanks come years after graduation, when they realize everything I demanded or encouraged was in preparation for life outside of high school, whether it be college, the work force, a trade school, or the military.
It has been four years since I quit teaching to stay home with my children and people ask me all the time if I miss it and/or if I will return. I loved teaching. I loved being in the classroom with the kids, interacting with them, challenging them, seeing the "light go on" as they grasped a concept for the first time. If my day consisted of solely teaching my job would have been wonderful. Unfortunately, it is the political bull and hoop jumping that sucked the joy out of teaching for me. Towards the end it seemed like it was less and less about the kids and actual learning and retention and more and more about test scores and appeasing disgruntled parents.
Over the years I have kept in touch with a handful of students and former athletes that played for me. Many of them were students my first and second year teaching when I was only 23 and they were 18. The age difference was not that great and so I had to "lay down the law" so they understood there was a boundary. Much to my surprise I found that "attitude" really worked and with clear boundaries and expectations kids stayed within those boundaries and met those expectations. Now, many of these first students are 25 or 26 years old and the dynamic of the relationships have changed. I've veered off topic a bit....
Anyway, a former student who was a senior in one of my English classes in 2003 "friended" me on Facebook the other day. He was a kid I really liked, but who other teachers labeled difficult. They thought he was lazy, had an attitude problem, and was generally a lost cause. I made it a point to never base my feelings of a student on what other teachers said and I didn't with him either. The first few weeks all of what these teachers had said was true. However, for some reason he and I connected. I kept on him, called him at home and woke him up when he ditched my class (which was first period), demanded he participate, kept on him about work he owed me. Basically, I drove him crazy and held him to a standard that no other teacher had apparently held him to. I didn't really think much of it because I did this with all my students. I expected a lot and more often than not students rose to meet those expectations. Second semester he had a free period and he asked to be my aide. I agreed. During the time when he was running copies for me or cleaning the classroom we would chat just about general things, mostly music which he and I both loved. I also had him use that time to make sure his work from other classes was done, had him organize each class into binders, made him clean out his backpack...just things that seem like common sense but that a lot of highschoolers don't do.
He graduated, I got five new classes of 30 + students, and years passed. Until yesterday when I get this incredibly touching note from him about how there are very few things or teachers he remembers positively about high school, but that I was one of them, as was my English class. He then thanked me for teaching him so much, not just about English but about life in general, and said that I was the only reason he actually ended up graduating on time. He said I was the first teacher who held him to such a high standard and demanded that he reach it and that he appreciated my "no bullshit, no excuse" attitude when it came to school work, education, and behavior. One of my non-negotiable policies was that I never accepted late work. There were no exceptions. This was always a point of contention as other teachers would accept it for reduced credit. My reasoning was that it is rare that any college professor will accept work late and even more rare that your boss will accept half-baked excuses for missing a deadline. He pleaded with me on more than one occasion to accept his work that was a day to weeks late. The answer was always NO. In this note he apologizes for "hassling me" about the "late work stuff" and says somewhat unbelievably that his college professors won't accept late work either and that his boss made him stay late to finish a job because it had to be ready to go the next morning. He seemed dumbfounded that my reasoning was actually based on what goes on in the "real world."
Honestly, it was one of the most touching things I have had said to me in a professional sense. I think part of the reason was because of the source; I would not have expected this from him. I was also happy to learn that he was gainfully employed and had gone back to college to finish his degree.
When I think about returning to teaching I am truly undecided. I know I was good at my job and that my students learned a lot, but I sometimes wonder if that is really enough or if any of that really makes a difference. When I hear things like this from students years later it really exemplifies all that is right with education. Lord knows there is plenty wrong with it, whether it be public, private, parochial, charter, alternative, or home school. It makes me think that maybe I really do belong in a classroom and that maybe students are getting a lot more out of it than any of us are giving them credit for.
It has been four years since I quit teaching to stay home with my children and people ask me all the time if I miss it and/or if I will return. I loved teaching. I loved being in the classroom with the kids, interacting with them, challenging them, seeing the "light go on" as they grasped a concept for the first time. If my day consisted of solely teaching my job would have been wonderful. Unfortunately, it is the political bull and hoop jumping that sucked the joy out of teaching for me. Towards the end it seemed like it was less and less about the kids and actual learning and retention and more and more about test scores and appeasing disgruntled parents.
Over the years I have kept in touch with a handful of students and former athletes that played for me. Many of them were students my first and second year teaching when I was only 23 and they were 18. The age difference was not that great and so I had to "lay down the law" so they understood there was a boundary. Much to my surprise I found that "attitude" really worked and with clear boundaries and expectations kids stayed within those boundaries and met those expectations. Now, many of these first students are 25 or 26 years old and the dynamic of the relationships have changed. I've veered off topic a bit....
Anyway, a former student who was a senior in one of my English classes in 2003 "friended" me on Facebook the other day. He was a kid I really liked, but who other teachers labeled difficult. They thought he was lazy, had an attitude problem, and was generally a lost cause. I made it a point to never base my feelings of a student on what other teachers said and I didn't with him either. The first few weeks all of what these teachers had said was true. However, for some reason he and I connected. I kept on him, called him at home and woke him up when he ditched my class (which was first period), demanded he participate, kept on him about work he owed me. Basically, I drove him crazy and held him to a standard that no other teacher had apparently held him to. I didn't really think much of it because I did this with all my students. I expected a lot and more often than not students rose to meet those expectations. Second semester he had a free period and he asked to be my aide. I agreed. During the time when he was running copies for me or cleaning the classroom we would chat just about general things, mostly music which he and I both loved. I also had him use that time to make sure his work from other classes was done, had him organize each class into binders, made him clean out his backpack...just things that seem like common sense but that a lot of highschoolers don't do.
He graduated, I got five new classes of 30 + students, and years passed. Until yesterday when I get this incredibly touching note from him about how there are very few things or teachers he remembers positively about high school, but that I was one of them, as was my English class. He then thanked me for teaching him so much, not just about English but about life in general, and said that I was the only reason he actually ended up graduating on time. He said I was the first teacher who held him to such a high standard and demanded that he reach it and that he appreciated my "no bullshit, no excuse" attitude when it came to school work, education, and behavior. One of my non-negotiable policies was that I never accepted late work. There were no exceptions. This was always a point of contention as other teachers would accept it for reduced credit. My reasoning was that it is rare that any college professor will accept work late and even more rare that your boss will accept half-baked excuses for missing a deadline. He pleaded with me on more than one occasion to accept his work that was a day to weeks late. The answer was always NO. In this note he apologizes for "hassling me" about the "late work stuff" and says somewhat unbelievably that his college professors won't accept late work either and that his boss made him stay late to finish a job because it had to be ready to go the next morning. He seemed dumbfounded that my reasoning was actually based on what goes on in the "real world."
Honestly, it was one of the most touching things I have had said to me in a professional sense. I think part of the reason was because of the source; I would not have expected this from him. I was also happy to learn that he was gainfully employed and had gone back to college to finish his degree.
When I think about returning to teaching I am truly undecided. I know I was good at my job and that my students learned a lot, but I sometimes wonder if that is really enough or if any of that really makes a difference. When I hear things like this from students years later it really exemplifies all that is right with education. Lord knows there is plenty wrong with it, whether it be public, private, parochial, charter, alternative, or home school. It makes me think that maybe I really do belong in a classroom and that maybe students are getting a lot more out of it than any of us are giving them credit for.
Death to Insurance Companies
I am tired of insurance companies. Really, if there was a legitimate and cost effective way to do without them I am all for it. There are actually a few doctors in our town that don't take insurance at all. It's a cash business for the wealthy and if I were among the wealthy I think I'd take advantage.
My son has had this lip condition for over a year now. We have seen doctor after doctor and no one yet has been able to diagnose or effectively treat it. Meanwhile it's getting worse and I am worried about scarring or disfigurement. I am trying to get our son into a specialized facility to be seen by one of their world class doctors. To do this, it has required a lot of research and investigation on my part, which is fine. All I ask in return is that our insurance company demonstrate the slightest bit of competence. Oh yeah, and that those that interface with customers actually speak the English language.
I can get most of the information I need via the Internet. I can log into our insurance account, find doctors, look at the status of claims, etc. When I set the account up I put it in my husband's name since he is the primary on the insurance. However, he has never once logged into it. A month ago I went to log on and it said my password was incorrect and it locked me out. I called and they said they'd send reset instructions in seven to ten days. Problem number one. I am supposed to wait seven to ten days to be able to access anything? Ten, eleven, twelve days pass and I receive nothing in the mail. So, I call back and they supposedly are going to send it out again. So now my seven to ten days has turned into at least fourteen to twenty. A full month passes and I receive nothing.
I called back yesterday as I was still locked out of our online account. The guy was a total douche and said he basically can't tell me anything since I set up the online account in my husband's name. We went round and round with me trying to explain that I set the account up, that I have permission to access the account, and that I need to know how to access our benefits. He tells me that he needs to speak with my husband. So, I have my husband call and he's pissed because a)he was in a meeting and b)he's already on two separate occasions given my "permission" for full access to the account. He then says he wants to reset the account to which they tell him they will mail him something in seven to ten days, but that if I want to set up my own online log in I would have to call back myself.
I call back and am again told that i don't have any permission to access the account. It is at this point that I lost it. I am usually pretty calm on the phone even when dealing with incompetent idiots. This was it, though. I flipped. I told them that my husband had just called in, that I was sick of being given the run around, that they were the most incompetent bunch of idiots I have ever dealt with and that's saying a lot considering I taught in a public school for six years (not a knock on the students). I told her I have called twice before, it's now been 30 days and we still don't have the reset. She then looks it up, verifies that I have called twice, and then admits that the paperwork has never been sent out. Surprise, they really are incompetent.
There may have been vague threats about what would happen if another ten days passes without getting this paperwork...something about contacting every governing board and agency that oversees them, there may also have been the suggestion that they don't hire idiot douche bags or people that can't speak English in any recognizable dialect. And possibly there was something about why people become so frustrated, freak out and open fire. I know I probably sounded like a lunatic, but honestly after trying to handle it in a mature fashion and getting nowhere because the combined IQ of those working for the insurance company is 0 I just couldn't take it and simply flipped out.
My son has had this lip condition for over a year now. We have seen doctor after doctor and no one yet has been able to diagnose or effectively treat it. Meanwhile it's getting worse and I am worried about scarring or disfigurement. I am trying to get our son into a specialized facility to be seen by one of their world class doctors. To do this, it has required a lot of research and investigation on my part, which is fine. All I ask in return is that our insurance company demonstrate the slightest bit of competence. Oh yeah, and that those that interface with customers actually speak the English language.
I can get most of the information I need via the Internet. I can log into our insurance account, find doctors, look at the status of claims, etc. When I set the account up I put it in my husband's name since he is the primary on the insurance. However, he has never once logged into it. A month ago I went to log on and it said my password was incorrect and it locked me out. I called and they said they'd send reset instructions in seven to ten days. Problem number one. I am supposed to wait seven to ten days to be able to access anything? Ten, eleven, twelve days pass and I receive nothing in the mail. So, I call back and they supposedly are going to send it out again. So now my seven to ten days has turned into at least fourteen to twenty. A full month passes and I receive nothing.
I called back yesterday as I was still locked out of our online account. The guy was a total douche and said he basically can't tell me anything since I set up the online account in my husband's name. We went round and round with me trying to explain that I set the account up, that I have permission to access the account, and that I need to know how to access our benefits. He tells me that he needs to speak with my husband. So, I have my husband call and he's pissed because a)he was in a meeting and b)he's already on two separate occasions given my "permission" for full access to the account. He then says he wants to reset the account to which they tell him they will mail him something in seven to ten days, but that if I want to set up my own online log in I would have to call back myself.
I call back and am again told that i don't have any permission to access the account. It is at this point that I lost it. I am usually pretty calm on the phone even when dealing with incompetent idiots. This was it, though. I flipped. I told them that my husband had just called in, that I was sick of being given the run around, that they were the most incompetent bunch of idiots I have ever dealt with and that's saying a lot considering I taught in a public school for six years (not a knock on the students). I told her I have called twice before, it's now been 30 days and we still don't have the reset. She then looks it up, verifies that I have called twice, and then admits that the paperwork has never been sent out. Surprise, they really are incompetent.
There may have been vague threats about what would happen if another ten days passes without getting this paperwork...something about contacting every governing board and agency that oversees them, there may also have been the suggestion that they don't hire idiot douche bags or people that can't speak English in any recognizable dialect. And possibly there was something about why people become so frustrated, freak out and open fire. I know I probably sounded like a lunatic, but honestly after trying to handle it in a mature fashion and getting nowhere because the combined IQ of those working for the insurance company is 0 I just couldn't take it and simply flipped out.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
My Lap is Free, Please Take a Seat
My husband and I actually got to go on a date today thanks to my mom. I think we average two a year, sadly. Anyway, we went to see The Hangover and then out for sushi and beer. When we walked into the theatre it was completely empty. We were the only ones in the entire place. We picked our seat and settled in. A few minutes later an older couple walked in.
Before they even headed our way I knew exactly what was going to happen. With all the empty seats in the theatre they came and sat right next to us, leaving only one seat between the wife and my husband. Every other darn seat in the entire theatre was empty and remained empty the entire movie. Yet they had to sit THAT close. What is with people?
I wish I could say this was the first time it has happened to us, but I'd be lying. It happens frequently. I don't understand it. When I walk into a relatively empty theatre I make it a point to sit as far away from the other patrons as possible.
So, there we sat. The four of us all nestled close together listening to the lady munch her popcorn and slurp her soda.
Before they even headed our way I knew exactly what was going to happen. With all the empty seats in the theatre they came and sat right next to us, leaving only one seat between the wife and my husband. Every other darn seat in the entire theatre was empty and remained empty the entire movie. Yet they had to sit THAT close. What is with people?
I wish I could say this was the first time it has happened to us, but I'd be lying. It happens frequently. I don't understand it. When I walk into a relatively empty theatre I make it a point to sit as far away from the other patrons as possible.
So, there we sat. The four of us all nestled close together listening to the lady munch her popcorn and slurp her soda.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
When I Think About You I Touch Myself or Something Like That
We went out for lunch today and my son was sitting next to me in the booth. In typical fashion he cannot sit still so he is climbing on me, leaning on me, pulling on me, and altogether just constantly touching me. I'm fairly used to it but it started to drive me crazy as I was trying to eat. So, I told him to sit down and just not touch me. My daughter, very loudly, says, "Hey, you can just sit there and touch yourself." My husband and I glance at each other as she continues, "Mommy, you can touch yourself too and daddy you can go and touch yourself too, but you can't touch mommy or my brother. You all can just go and touch yourselves."
It gave the waitress and the older couple at the table next to ours a good laugh.
It gave the waitress and the older couple at the table next to ours a good laugh.
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