Like David Against the Mighty Goliath

Yep just when I was getting geared up to lob rocks at Tricare for months if needed, the hospital commander approved my request to keep our current civilian primary care managers instead of going to the Post hospital.
Yep, that right..we get "free" (only cost me my hubby's life) civilian healthcare.

I prevail!!!!!
HA!!! I laugh in your general direction.

Actually it's a shallow victory because I still have to have everything reapproved and reassessed but at least it's with my same old doctor and not some CPT whose going to PCS as soon as we get our appointment. I don't have to trek out to base for every episode of croup, or ear infection, or what-ever-odd-and-nasty bug my kids pick up.

So I faxed my ID card to my oh-so-wonderful (she really is) pediatrician. Then she called to remake the referrals I needed. J to the urologist. M and A for OT and Speech therapy. Oh, and also to the developmental pediatrician.
yep...developmental ped.
That "A" word came up again. Thankfully, it was the Asperger's "A" word and not Autism. What surprised me was that it was for both M and A. Non-verbal learning disorder was also mentioned.

Of course reading the descriptions of symptoms, I see a good bit of both of them there. They don't fit the mold in all areas, but they both are very verbal, have poor social skills, and have some serious motor-planning problems. The appointment is not until late October*** so it's way too soon for me to even think about.

All these labels. I know lots of people in the homeschooling community are anti-label and anti-assessment But for me, it's nice to know what the monster's name is. It takes away some of the fear and apprehension. I like to know my enemy.
"So that's what you are. How can I combat you? What size rock do I need in my tiny sling?"

Goliath comes in many forms.

*** ZooDad quite snarkily responded,"Expletive, are there any needs we need to anticipate for their 65th birthdays? We need to make those appointments now." He doesn't use a slingshot. He flings boulders.

I know it's wrong...

But I do actually laugh at my special needs child.

I can't help it. The boy is funny.
In the van today on the way to speech he was attempting to tell me about some superhero that he made up.

A has apraxia of speech and dysfluency. Dysfluency is a form of stuttering. But A doesn't repeat first sounds like c-c-c-c-c-car. Nope. He repeats whole words. Sometimes, entire phrases, as he tries to figure out how to form the next sound he wants to make.
It tends to get in the way conversationally but he is never embarrassed.

Today in the Van.

A: "Hey Momma. Hey, hey, hey Momma. I think, I think, I think..Hey Momma, I think....I think......"
(We are all waiting patiently to find out what he thinks.)
A: "What was I talking about?"
The van explodes with laughter.
Me: "I don't know buddy. What were you thinking about?"
A: '"I don't know. I'll just think about something else."

This was before the dreaded speech therapy at which he spent the whole hour on the floor refusing to do anything. I don't know what set him off. I'm sure school ST will have a letter for me on Monday. Well, scratch that. She'll probably have a discussion ready on Thursday when I go to discuss M's services for next year.
(sigh)

In her defense, she doesn't get to hear our fun in the van.

Zoo Academy of Art and Design

A couple of weeks ago, I bought J one of Mark Kistler's art instruction book: Draw Squad.
It has 30 self driven lessons for basic drawing instruction, each consisting of sub lessons and work sheets.

For the past few days, J has been conducting his own art school for younger brothers. Today's lesson was shading to form 3-D objects. J made a worksheet (instead of having me copy it) for each of his three brothers, complete with grading line and a place for them to write their name.

M apparently decided to skip this morning's lesson and J is a harsh grader. He gave M an 'F' and stated M couldn't attend any more lesson until he completed the unfinished work. The boy is one tought teacher.

A got an 'A+' on shading even though he did more shadowing than shading. J gave him points for trying and following instructions.

Here's J's latest cartoon.
He informed me that this drawing uses foreshortening, shading, surface, size, contour lines, overlapping, density, and shadows.
And since he's learning to draw, everyone else is too.

Right now there is a discussion on super heroes. We watched Sky High this weekend which only added more fuel to our obsession. A makes them up, M adds details and clarification and then J draws the comic books.

Oh...and since I haven't posted

Zoodad passed all the medical. He's back to being an official Army Dude.
One more week at the training camp then he'll be back here for refresher training for 3 weeks.
Then it's off to Mississippi for a month or two, then Kuwait for 12 months. Once he's done there, he'll hang out in Atlanta for a bit. All in all....it's 18 months away from home.

This week won't be as bad as the next three weeks will be. I remember the last time ZooDad deployed. In the weeks before he left, we wanted to spend every moment we could with him. We wanted to cram as much family time in as possible.

I feel the same thing coming on this time. I want to horde his attention and I'm feeling resentful at the thought of sharing him with anyone.

Right now, we're in wait mode. We're waiting for the real stuff to begin. I almost feel like yelling...."JUST GO ALREADY! GO! Go, so can get back home."

I can even imagine how we are going to handle the next year.
A whole freaking year!

Dang.

Jumping on the bandwagon

Where I'm from

I am from iron skillets black from years of use, from glass bottled Coca-Cola and Magnolias blooming sweet and thick.

I am from a house with a window fan with chicken frying in the kitchen and a dish towel calendar hanging on the wall and a dirt swept path from the backdoor.

I am from flower-covered Azaleas, tall Southern Pines, and old Hydrangeas dug up and moved from one house to the other.

I am from Easter Egg Trees and big rabbit cakes and stoic, hard-working women who never complain, from Esther and Uncle Earl and Aunt Ora laughing even though it wasn't proper. I'm from yes ma'am and yes, sir and not touching the shot gun behind the door because Daddy said not to and not because the gun might hurt you.

I am from big family Sunday dinners, tending to cemetery plots, stepping up to help out family without ever being asked, and knowing that nothing ... nothing can ever mean more than family.

From the man who could wish away your warts if you just believed and growing a watermelon in your stomach from the seed you swallowed.

I am from every church in town: Catholic, Baptist, Pentecostal Holiness, and occasionally Methodist. And knowing that God didn't care how you worshipped or where.

I'm from the Olde South, from the place the family has just always been. From grits with salt and butter. From fried bologna and hot boiled peanuts.

From a Southern Matriarch grandmother who claimed “I’ve whipped all my grandchildren.” and a father who taught me to love “The Man in Black”, I’m from folks who pick up stray animals and give them a proper home.

I am from ‘forgetting’ the bad times, embellishing the good times, and knowing that I whole slew of people have my back if I need them. I’m from knowing that no matter what I do…no matter how bad or good…I will always be loved.

A Series of Interesting Events

Wednesday my Mom said cryptically, "Bill*** wants to talk to you about something" Bill is my nephew-in-law if there is such a thing. He's married to my oldest niece who..Thanks to Southern peculiarlarities...is only 4 years younger than me. Her children are actually older than my children.
Anyway, I had a feeling about what the "something" was.

Last summer, their middle child, was trying to recover from a particularly bad year in public school. He had a bad teacher. He got left behind. He fell through the cracks and nothing Niece and NIL did made that any better. NIL had mentioned me possibly tutoring him during the summer but baseball took precedence and I tore up my ankle and had therapy and kid therapy.

Yesterday, my niece called instead of NIL. She's a tender-hearted thing and loves her children. She struggled in school, pitifully. Barely graduating after 2 summer school sessions and five years in school. She wants so much more for her kids.

Her oldest is a star. I mean really. Straight A's, beautiful, great athlete, polite, and gracious. Her second is struggling and it breaks his mother's heart. The school had contacted her. He was in danger of failing. (Yes, first school meeting...with 2 weeks left in school. Draw your own conclusions but I know NIL and Niece are good parents so it isn't them.)

So we talked.

She brought up private school but I know they can't afford the 5K+ a year the a mediocre private school in this area, which, as niece put it, might end up the same for T (her son) as public school. Too many kids, no time for him.

I knew where she was going but she couldn't get the words out.
So I said them for her.

"What do you think about T joining us next year and homeschooling with the boys?"
She started crying.

So we talked and we planned. She's going to talk with NIL. (who has also been called up for Active Duty and ships out for sandbox Duty in early June) I talked with ZooDad last night. (Who is still at the God-forsaken "Camp" doing training so he can also do Sandbox duty though not in the same unit/area as NIL.)
ZooDad is fine with the idea, just as long as it is legal; (I think that part is easily taken care of.)we're not liable for accidents; (I think that's a moot point but I'll humor him.) and they pay for curriculum. (I'm with him on that one. I'm skimping with my own.)
I also can't be responsible for transportation to and from my house and T has to be subject to my rules during his school day. He's just going to be part of the family school.
thankfully, T is a real sweetie. He's a grade ahead of J officially but I'm sure he's not working on that level. He and the boys are tight cousins and play great together. Plus he's blonde and blue eyed so he matches the rest. Most people confuse him with J anyway. No one would believe he wasn't one of the brothers.

So at least for the summer, the Zoo will have a new boy. If things go well, he'll join our little kitchen table school and hopefully flourish with the rest of the Zoo children.
Just wait until he finds out he has to diagram sentences. He's never had Grammar before. Shocking huh? Finishing 5th grade and no actual grammar. (sigh)


***Names changed to protect us from all the internet creeps and freaks.

Another day bites the dust

Today was pretty much a repeat of yesterday. School, therapy, baseball.
School work was finished early. We finished listening to Ginger Pye on CD and started Five Little Peppers and How They Grew. No one made any math mistakes and there was much sentence diagramming. M started a new A to Z Mystery and extolled the wonders of audible books.

M and A got the results from their OT assessments. (sigh) Not as much progress as I expected and some regression. A has gone from 3% on the Peabody preschool test to 1%. It's hard to accept that. He's so smart and clever and funny. But he just isn't catching up in motor skills. He may "fail to make progress." That's the first step to a PDD label (Pervasive Developmental Disorder) and will mean a lot of intrusive tests that I really don't want to do. It also brings up the big "A" word which like a bullet through the heart for me.
M is making progress in some areas but not in others. He even went down in a few areas. Gross motor and writing skills. His speech therapist says that she doesn't know what to do for him. That's nice to hear.
What a downer! At least they are brilliant.

From there we went to the commissary to buy food. The prices are so good. At least we will eat well while ZooDad is gone. The little zoo kids kept parroting the que prompt. "Next please...Next please...Next please." They thought it was hysterical.

From there was baseball for J. To keep s busy this year we have two sessions of baseball. Upward ball ends this Saturday and Y-ball started tonight. J is on a machine pitch team for 10 to 12 year olds. We have a good team in the making. We also have three very involved dads coaching. J will need that this summer.

ZooDad called. Tomorrow is his birthday. He's getting ACU's and some cool Army stuff. M created a picture book for him. It is hysterical. It's called Army Dad and ZooDad has apparently been promoted to General. On one page, ZooDad is commanding an army (all in green) who have slain an entire enemy army (all in red.) Both armies are stick figures except for General ZooDad who is decked out in camo and a battle helmet, smiling over the carnage.
M has no issues with war at all. As long as no one is shooting at his Daddy.

Tomorrow is pretty much a repeat of today except with no baseball. The school therapist comes to the house, so I have to tidy up. Instead of baseball, I have a co-op organizational meeting.

SSDD here in the Zoo.

I guess they are motivated

All year, the boys have been...well...reluctant to do school stuff. Well, that's not right. They are happy to do the work, it just takes them a fair amount of time to do it. Some of it was dawdling. Some of it was ease of distraction.

Whatever it was, now it is over.

The boys are doing work that used to take them four hours....in about 2 and half hours.
Not only to they finish everything, but they start suggesting assignments that are normally done on other days.

Odd huh?

Another unusual thing to note is M's math. Normally, he pouts through his math, missing a few but getting most correct, with his normal terrible handwriting. (He has motor skill issues.)
That is until I started assigning just the odd numbered with the treat of doing all the problems if he got one wrong.
Guess how many problems he's missed since the new way assigning math. Guess. Yep...none. Perfect score.
And his handwriting is no nice and neat too.

Today he even voluntarily read a book. For M...that is massive news.
For J, not so much. He's finished both Ginger Pye and a Time Warp Trio book since Sunday night. That boy goes through books like water.
J has also been extraordinarily motivated. He did a week's worth of geography today because he'd "just have to do it eventually and might as well do it all today."
Not only that...he did an extra lesson in English because...get this..."diagramming sentences is kind of fun."

If it weren't for their continued forgetfulness to unload and load the dishwasher, I would swear they had been replaced by podpeople kids.

Mild Support, Moderate Support, Full Panel Very Firm Support

I wish being a wife was as easy as picking out pantyhose.

The being a supporting wife is tougher than it seems. Last night I told ZooDad to just be truthful when filling out his medical stuff. I then informed him that there were three kinds of truthful, Unbiased truth, positive spin truth, and whinny truth and told him to pick which truth would help him achieve his end goal. (Whatever that might be.)

Well, that's positive spin truth.
I do know what his end goal is. He wants back in. He doesn't want to be rejected. So I'm here trying to be supportive and unbiased. I'm trying to be encouraging and not freaking out at the fact that if ZooDad does get this goal that he will leave us for quite a bit of time.

I find myself being uber-wife and positive spinning everything in my head thinking..."My God WOMAN!!!! If he gets this, he's going to leave the freakin' country and spend two months in a "Camp Crystal Lake" in Mississippi." (How odd that I find the Mississippi camp as frightening as the Kuwait option. But I was less than impressed with the place I dropped him off at yesterday. The other camp can't be much of an improvement.)"How in the world could he do this to us. 12 months BOG! 12 months not even counting the time in SC and Mississippi. What the heck is he doing? Is this some midlife crisis!!"

But then the next moment, I am beaming with proud that he's back to being a soldier again. That we are back to that ridiculous life that is the military family. Look at my darling ZooDad. Isn't he so majestic in his ACU's. Who wouldn't be proud to be a an Army wife?

You see. Crazy like Sybil.

Some of it might be denial. Some of it is just blind patriotism. Most of it is just trying to support this man I married who above all else loves God and country.

I think I need the Full body, uber-firm support with steel rod inserts. Does Hanes have that option?

He's my Cosmo!

Cosmo: "I married the smart one."
Wanda: "I married the....Well, he is cute."

Not only are the kids funny but the Dad is too.

Yesterday, ZooDad called me on my way home:
ZD: It's Ceso Demile Day, Friday.
Me: What? (Seriously, what the heck.)
ZD: They are celebrating Ceso Demile on post Friday.
Me: (Incredulously) Cecil B Demile? They are celebrating Cecil B Demile on post?
ZD: Whatever? Anyway, that's why the fair rides are set up. Do you want to take the kids?

Now the gears in my brain are revving. What the heck does Cecil B Demile have to do with fair rides?
Lightbulb moment

Me: Do you mean Cinco de Mayo? That's Mexican Independence Day.
ZD: Whatever. Cinco de Mayo....uh...just whatever it is. That's why they have the stuff set up. Do you want to go or not?
Me: Sure but Cinco de Mayo isn't on Friday. It means 5th of May. That's not until next week.
ZD: They don't seem to have that information. The email says it is on Friday.
Me: Well that's just false advertising. Friday is Veintiocho de Abril.
ZD: That must be the day the Mexican army had a big fair.

It's a whole lot better than Cecil B. Demile day. I had to call my sister so we could laugh over this. I swear he's a brilliant computer person.

It's time for Lynard Skynard to write a new song

Or maybe they should just start playing the old one and just alter the lyrics a bit.

Well I heard mister young sing about her
Well, I heard ole neil put her down
Well, I hope neil young will remember
A southern man don't need him around anyhow


The entertainment people (which includes most of the MSM) are just so jolly over the idea of turning all this into "another Vietnam." They can barely contain their giddiness.
Of course since they created the last Vietnam, they already have the experience to make that happen.

Can you tell I spent the week watching DVR stuff from the Military Channel? The report of the Tet Offensive was particularly informative.

Grateful Dead Sea Scrolls

Yep, the sacred scrolls are touring the country.
Last weekend, Me and the rest of the Zoo went to Discovery Place in Charlotte and lo and behold...the scrolls were there. And there wasn't a bit of tie dye to been seen anywhere.***

Well not all the scrolls but there were a quite a few of them and a very nice display of other artifacts. Including some bona fide Sumerian seals. (For the rubber stampers, just think of them as ancient SU stamping wheels.)
ZooDad and I did the tour separately so we wouldn't have to pay $11 extra for each kid. It was a self guided tour with these little hand held digital players which were far too much for us uncivilized Southerners. I couldn't handle the narrators lack of discernible accent, so I just read the placards on everything.

ZooDad was a smartass as usual. Afterwards he told my sister that not only did we see the scrolls, but he also deciphered them. That's right. He said he saw the meaning in both Hebrew and English, illuminated in white light right there beside the scrolls. A Holy Vision.
When I explained to my sister that there were strips of cloth hanging from the ceiling by each scroll case and the writing on and translation of each scroll was projected onto the cloth...ZooDad replied, "You mean everyone saw that?"

Dy, you thought your man was a lightening rod. Mine is perfecting his own brand of blasphemy.

I didn't get any pictures of the scrolls. (It was forbidden.) But I did get some shots of the boys in the science halls.

Here's the whole gang in front of a brown bear. I didn't know they were that big. This particular stuffed guy caused about 30 minutes of "Brown, Brown Bear jokes." (I see a shellacked octopus looking at me.)
















Here's M using a double pulley to pull himself up. We spent an inordinate amount of time playing with these pulley things. The giant eye was also a big hit but it didn't photograph well. It was a really big eye.













More pulleys and Frick and Frack with their matching heads. People ask if they are twins. Yeah, it was a 32 month pregnancy.
Monster boy S is pulling the heck out of the fixed pulley. While A is taking it easy with the compound pulley.

We also got to see an IMAX movie. Journey down the Nile or something like that. It was wicked. The little guys kept pointed up, out, down...all over. They'd also cover their heads when the water splashed.

Charlotte is one of those hip urban areas where having 4 children borders in irresponsibility. The place was full of older people and professionals that came to see the scrolls. We got lots of Stair-step handmotions, (Those of you with 4 or more know what I'm talking about.) double takes, rubber necks and at least three "Are they all yours?"I always look around when someone asks me that. I assume I must have picked up a couple of strays. I did get one "You're my hero!" when I made A stop touching the seat in front of him and I got a whole bunch of hugs.
But I get those everyday.





***We didn't go to Carowinds. But ZooDad did pitch a high holy duck fit and call the cops on them for gross mismanagement and endangering the public. Then we went to Discovery Place.

What she's been doing Part 1: Da Wild, Da Crazy, Da Vinci

Apologies first. Sorry I just dropped off there. I've been a bit busy with all this "back in the Army" stuff. But that's not what this post is about.

This post is about what I've been reading while waiting in the endless lines. Wait, that's not right. I've actually been knitting in the ques also. In fact, I usually bring both the book and the knitting so I can be prepared. Long, take-a-number lines are for sock knitting. The wait-step-forward-wait-read lines are for the book.

I'm a total Type A personality. Down time annoys me.

So, I'm finally getting around to reading The Da Vinci Code. I'm only, what, two years behind the times on this.
I haven't gotten very far yet, I've had more knitting lines than reading lines. But I have read enough to wonder why anyone ever thought this stuff could possible be "real." I actually said to ZooDad at one point, "Holy Moley...who in the world would be so hare-brained to think this is plausible."
If you haven't read it, the first few chapters are pretty. far. Fetched. You can't even view it as an attack on the Catholic Church because it is so "Out There Flapping."

Then I caught an interview with the slick, camera friendly, Opus Dei spokesperson that admitted that some members actually did do the whole self flagellation thing as a method of purification.

um......huh? Wha? Whoa.

Hmmmmmm...... I thought that part had to surely be made up.
And they also trotted out a non-albino Simon. ("Yeah, some of us beat ourselves but the albino guy part is totally wrong. Our Silas is black.)

Now, I'm a fairly tolerant person. I really don't care about who and how you worship or who you sleep with or what you do. I don't mind what individuals do in the privacy of their own homes, I just don't see the need for the rest of the population to be forced to accept un-natural things as normal. Or to bend over backwards to accommodate your chosen needs.
Tolerance doesn't mean that I accept and respect your beliefs. It just means that I don't stop you from doing them if they don't involve me watching or joining in.

But I draw the line at any religion or sect that preaches the literal beating the hell out of a person. I'm sorry, but I don't care what you call your God...if you require a person or a child to be physically harmed in order to remove sin or guilt...you are way off base in my book.

Now, I'm not talking about the individual following the "spare the rod, spoil the child" verse. I myself will swat a child to reinforce a idea, like Do not run out into that parking lot again young man. But there is a difference between the parent deciding to spank and a religious leader saying that you have to wail on your kids (or yourself) in order to make sure your children (or self) is pure of sin and can enter Heaven. (Nirvana, spiritual oneness)
That's just wrong. It's an abuse of power.

The self punishment is especially wacko to me.
So some Opus Dei whack themselves with a rope cat-o-nines and wear that ring thing with hooks on it. Some Muslims in Iraq have that parade where they whip themselves to bloody as they march along the street. (Kind of makes you understand why Hussein banned that particular holy march.)
I can't even respond properly to the thought. It's just wrong on a gazillion levels.
It's not something I can put my mind around.

But it does make me read with a little less skepticism.
I'm not going to see the movie though. I'm in this anti-hollywood frame of mind right now.
It goes back to that "do what you want to do but don't be mad when I don't accept what you have to say" thing from above. Plus Tom Hank's hair in the previews is skeeving me out.

Update on the van

Our insurance guy came by to assess. The guy's insurance didn't know about the accident until ZooDad called them just a few minutes ago. (This is deja vu.)

Anyway, Our insurance guy deemed the van unsafe to drive. The rear door is unlatched and won't lock. So if I was hit again, the van could not absorb the additional blow or the rear door cold fly open endangering the children back there.

It was towed to the repair shop and now I start gathering police reports and arranging for a rental.

We already have tickets to go to Carowinds on Friday.

I need my van!

CRASH!!!!!!

I got rear-ended.

I stopped fast at a red light because I couldn't see that it was red. (West bound traffic with the sun right at light level.) When I stopped, I looked in my rear view mirror and watched the truck coming closer and closer, without slowing one bit. Then I saw the guy's expression when he finally realized that I was in front of him and not moving.
(I need a little "EEEEEEEEEeeeeeeekkkkkkk" smiley.)

I took my foot of the break and turned my wheel to keep him from knocking my into the intersection.

boom

Scared the boys to death. The driver was scared to death too once he saw that there were lots of little kids in the car. He was such a sweet guy.
The 911 operator was idiot. Way too many irrelevant questions.
The police officer was great too and we all made jokes about hammering the dent out and using a little Bond-O and spray paint to fix it up.
The other guy's car was barely hurt. His bumper just rode over mine and into my trunk. He did lose his front tag...somewhere.

As for us, it wasn't bad as wrecks could go. The guy was traveling 35 MPH and I was sitting at a stop. It could have been worse...as I have pointed out to ZooDad who feels the fates have bestowed us while an unreasonable amount of misfortune.

No one was hurt.
The van still drives.
The lights still work.
The read door stays closed, though it won't open.
The window didn't break.
The guy is insured.
Only the rear door and bumper was damaged.


All that dirt is where my read deck cover was. That part is supposed to be covered by my rear door. The black foam stuff is actually the inside part of my van trunk. The paint cracked all the way down to bare metal.
A police officer friend said that I did exactly what I should have done and the van did just what it was designed to do.
That's a blessing.
My windshield wiper still works too. So do the interior trunk lights.
Weird huh?


Oh...and I finished some socks and our foyer tile. For a peek at both, click on the link to my knitting blog over there on the right.

I've been putting this off

Because seeing it in print makes it looks so much more real.
Here's my news.

On April 30th, I will once again be an Army wife.
My sweet husband has been involuntary activated from the Individual Ready Reserves (IRR) and most likely will deploy to Iraq.

We've been out of the Army for 7 years and ZooDad is 40% disabled, so this was quite a surprise for us.
His deployment is for 18 months with an option for extension up to two years.

My family is running out of men and we didn't have that many to begin with. My nephew is already in Iraq as a contractor. My niece's husband reports for deployment in early June.

Nine children whose fathers are away from home fighting.
Three wives worrying about their husbands.
One family who has had solders/sailors/and airmen in every war this country has ever fought in.

No one can say we aren't dedicated.

Running Commentary and an Active Imagination

Do any of you have that type of child?

The type that has creative make-believe play with a running commentary through out the whole scenario.

I've had 2 of them.
J, our oldest is now 10. But when he was smaller, we loved to play with toy figures, Winnie the Pooh characters mostly. He would spend hours in his own tiny little world carrying on conversations between the brightly-colored plastic critters. He never needed a playset for his creativity. The arm of the couch could easily be a mountain ridge. A pile of pillows was a cave to be explored.
I don't remember when he stopped doing this. I guess it was about the same time that his younger brother got old enough to play with.

S is almost 3 now. He has that same sense of creative play. Since he's the baby, he gets left out of the "big boys" play. It doesn't bother him. All he needs are some of those miniature Rescue Heros and he's away in his own little world.

Usually that little world is located right beside the chair I am sitting in.
While I'm typing, surfing, knitting or reading...he's acting out a multi-character play in several scenes. More often than not these plays involve shooting bad guys and blowing up space ships.

I try not to laugh as I'm taking in these litle scenes. I don't want to interfere with his intimate play. I also don't want to risk running him off to some other location. I like being part of his sound stage, his scenery for his imagination. It gives me insights on the values he has picked up and the way his little growing brain is shaping up.

"We'll make it work!" said the pilot of the one man space ship to the alien he was trying to rescue but had no room for. "I won't leave you behind. You're my friend."

He'll be a good man someday.

In which the poor girl's head explodes

Well, almost.

Last night, while sitting at the kitchen table, I looked up.
Then I immediately yelled for ZooDad.

ZooDad came running like the wonderful and concerned husband that he is to find me looking at the ceiling.
"(Gasp) How long has that been there?"
"I don't know. I'm short. I never look up. How long do you think?"
"I don't know. I'm tall. I never look up. The real question is where did it come from?"

Well the "it" wasn't a bug or some alien species that had chosen to take residence on our kitchen ceiling. (Unlike the snail that really does live on our stairwell ceiling.

It was worse. far, far worse.
Aliens or bugs would have been good news.
Much better news than......dum, dum, DUM...A waterspot.

Yep, a brown, wet, and growing water spot.

Near as we can tell, and we have no contractor or plumbing experience, the spot must be coming from the overflow pipe in the upstairs bathtub.
I sure hope so anyway because that part can be accessed through the drywall in A and S's closet.

I was supposed to call the plumber today but I forgot. Instead I hung out at my Mom's after my ophthalmology appointment and knitted all day. (The eyes are fine. No eye lasering needed. I go back next year to check again.)

So tomorrow, I call the plumber.
In the mean time, I'm checking all the ceilings.

ARRRGGGGGG!!!!

That's the sound of me pulling my hair out.

I was trying to do the 3 needle bind off on my second sideways sock and I totally mucked it up. Well, I mucked up the third stitch.

Now, I start the great debate. Do I pull it out and start over? OR do I take it to the LYS on Saturday between baseball games and beg the sock class teacher to help me fix my colossal mistake?
And if I wait until Saturday, should I start a new project or go ahead and pick up the stitches for my first sock's gusset. (I had wanted to knit both feet at the same time to make sure they were even.

I an a stinky knitter. This is so discouraging.

Hmmm, I do have some nice lime and white yarn for another set of sideways socks....

Funnier than cable TV

Me and 4 year old A in the kitchen.

A: Mom, when you a little girl, what you costume on Halloween?

S: What were my costumes? Let's see. I was a witch once and black cat. I was Princess Leia too.

A: What about Darth Vader?

S: Well, I'm a girl. You have to be a boy to be Darth Vader.

A: You have to be a maaaaaan to be Darth Vader.

S: Nuh-uh. You were Darth Vader last year and you're not a man.

A: Well, I do poop in the potty.

Sadly for some "men" in society. It takes more than pooping in the potty to make you a man.

Check that box

One less thing to worry about thanks to BJU.

I am the Achievement test coordinator for our homeschool support group. It's not a bad gig. I just have to collect orders, round up test administrators, run the whole dog and pony show, and do some private testing and...oh...order $2500 worth of tests in one pop.

Then I sit back and worry until they get arrive. I'm always scared that they won't get here in time for the scheduled test date.

Well, now I don't have to worry. I placed the order Friday night and this afternoon a nice box of tests arrived on my front porch.

I can just sit back and wait until the end of April.

Thank you BJU.

I ain't dead.

Nope, I'm still around. Sitting on my fingers. Waiting for the 31st to arrive when I can spill the beans pretty openly. Though in real life, I'm already spilling the beans. Oh well. I have to get things done and I can't wait for the 31st to get this party planned.

I'm knitting and planning school stuff for next year. And it's baseball season. So that is keeping me fairly busy.

I'm trying not to cry every few hours. As long as I don't think about "it" in great detail, I'm ok. But the minute I start thinking about how this will affect us, especially the boys, I get all upset.

I keep praying for God to make me open to his plan and to remind me that his is there when I forget.
I'm trying to not be bitter.
I'm trying to keep ZooDad from getting bitter.
I'm also trying to project an air of confidence and competence. I don't need ZooDad worrying any more than he already is.
He needs to know that his wife and family is not going to fall apart.

It's not fun though.
Denial helps. ;)
ZooDad and I have developed a code. "It ain't just a river in Egypt." means, "I'm handling it, just barely..but only because I'm not thinking about it in full detail."

The full details are just too hard to think about.

Great day in the morning!

Sasquatch Jr. is alive and well and living at the Zoo.

That's right. He lives right here. Apparently, I birthed him.
My oldest boy-child. The one who is just 2 months past his very first decade. The one who is 5 foot 1 inch and weighs 107 pounds. That boy went to get a new pair of shoes today.

I had thought that he old size 7.5's were looking a little tight and filthy. They were quite filthy and they were even tighter.

My 10 year old has a new pair of Nike's sized 9 and a half. That's right 2 full sizes larger. The guy was going to suggest getting a 10 but they slipped a little on the giant feet. I felt like such a bad mom. Geesh, no wonder he was blowing holes in the sides of them.

Salesguy said, "When that boy is 14, you'll be buying shoes off the internet."

He didn't get it from my side of the family. My little elf dad wore a size 7.

Still making phone calls

I think I have spoken to half the free world in the past three days.

I'm still trying to get stuff squared away. We're digging through old files and boxes. My ancient vocabulary has risen from some dark, and dusty corner of my mild. I find myself a little shocked when the old acronyms and vernacular spill from my mouth like I've been speaking them for years.

It's amazing how it all comes back to you.
Kind of scary too.
I got my first shock on caller ID yesterday. I did a double take until I realized that it really was who it said it was.

(sigh)

Some of you know. Some of you might guess. But I have to wait to post it here until everyone has been notified. Until then just pray that we, and our family, will accept what we've been given.
As I told MIL last night, "No change at all would be better but that's not an option. Now I just have to get all I can out of what we are getting."

My plain, old, normal,life is not an option anymore. I either accept it and ride the wave or fight it and get crashed against the rocks.

Because I am in denial and have done a bunch of calls this morning..

I'm doing the meme that Jacqui tagged me with

Six Little known/weird things about me.

1. I have had my rabies shots. I was years old when I little furry dog crossed the street and bit me on the leg. The owners were out of town and the dog's careperson could not be found. The dog went off for testing and I got shots in the tummy.

2. I was once allergic to chocolate. Same age, I sat down and ate a one pound bag of M&M's in about an hour. (To keep my brother from eating them) It resulted in an impaction, a stomach pumping, and a sensitivty to chocolate that lasted for years. I could only eat white chocolate (not really chocolate) that you only found at Easter. I was so happy to see those little white bunnies every year.

3. Although I will touch/hold all manner of 4 legged, 2 legged, and no legged animals. I am totally skeeved out by anything with more than 4 legs.
Irrationally skeeved out about them. As in I won't step on the critter because I can't handle the crunch. And don't get me started on grubs. I have had grub nightmares thanks to some very old firewood.

4. I am afraid of heights. Open heights in particular. I created quite a scene at Grandfather mountain, Home of the tallest suspension bridge. Not only would I not cross it, but I stood at the entrance panicking because Zoodad had taken my children across.

5. I have extra teeth. Freaky. The women in my family tend to do this. I lost a set of molars twice.

6. Every dog or cat I have had in my entire life (10 total) has been an abandoned animal. They have all been found or rescued. Two cats were rescued by others. The other 7 animals were found by my family.
Our perpetual puppy was found on our wedding night. He had Parvo and we postponed out honeymoon by 2 days until we could get vet care.

So what about you?
I'm not going to tag anyone but you're welcome to tell me your little known oddities here or on your own blog.

Not-so-good-stuff at the Zoo

I'll have to be cryptic. But we got some pretty bad news here at the zoo this weekend.

I won't be posting much for the next few weeks until we get all our ducks in a row.

We in shock and denial but trying to prepare while hoping that it's just a false alarm. (I think that's the denial part.)

I'll post the whole deal once we notify all the people who need to know first.

I can't even make a prayer request yet. Except maybe for strength, peace, and us to open to whatever God has planned for us.

I would blog but the zoo has been boring.

Seriously boring.
Nothing at all of interest or even funny.
MIL had a stint in the hospital. Same issue as the previous times, same battery of test. They still can't find the problem.
She spent the night and then we took her back to the farm on Wednesday. That gave the boys a chance to chase goats, fed the pony, and blow dandylions. (or as J did by accident, inhale them.)
Thursday, my mom and great-nephew came over for a visit while I began my yearly "Oh heck, what program do we want to use next year. I'm throwing it all out and buying Abeka" planning.

Today we did school stuff and I pulled weeds.
Big fun here at the zoo.

I also made a about a dozen phone calls about A's medicaid status and the ITBS testing that I'm coordinating.

And I'm wearing my old glasses. Everyday. All day.
My new glasses haven't come in yet. I'm kind of bummed about that but it's good in a way. It's gives me a chance to get used to wearing them before I get the stronger lens.
My ophthalmologist appointment is April 3rd. My sister has to accompany me (That's her job. She's always the designated driver.) because my eyes will "dilated like crazy and monitored in case my pupils lock."
Joy.

Well I fear I've made enemies with the new family.

I put up a sign to handle the constant visits.

The little guy was coming down to play at 12:30 on a school day. That's just a bit too early.
So I put up a sign so he would know when play time was and when we were still doing school or family stuff.
That's been working out fine.

But today I yelled.

We have two dogs. One, Stamper, is our "baby." We found him in the road, on our wedding night. He had parvo virus and was slowly dying. He lacks any normal dog sense and lives in perpetual puppy-dom. He's and part chow. But he has also inherited a shepherd's hip displasia. One hip was operated on and the ball was removed from his femur. The other hip is only 20% in socket but we couldn't put him through a second surgery. He's also an old dog. He'll be 12 this year and he's getting arthritis.

So when I saw a 7-year-old boy sitting on him like he was a little pony, I lost it.
I sent the little friend home and the older boys had to go upstairs to clean their room. They should have had the sense and the fortitude to tell their friend not to sit on their old pet.
(When I told ZooDad of the incident, he asked, "And what was Stamper doing? He was just taking it, wasn't he. He'll be limping tomorrow."
Yeah, the sweet, dumb boy was just taking it. He would never dream of complaining.)

As a precaution, I warned all the boys in the yard against sitting on the cat, hamster, and fish. It was a "Don't eat the daisies" moment.

I'll have to damage control, I'm sure.
But if you ever come over to play, please don't let the kid sit on my poor dogs.

Oh WOW, oh wow, oh wow, wow, wow, wow!

My college roomie is coming to visit next week.
This is my ultra funny roommate who tolerated my college antics for 2 years.
We haven't seen each other in more than 10 years. He parents live about an hour from me and she is coming for a family event and then driving to visit me and all my men.
She's going to be a hit with the boys. She works on the Cassini project for JPL (the Mars Rover people.) And rehabs seal and sea lions in her spare time. She plays a mean flute too. Cool huh?

Now I just have to get the house all ready for guests and get psyched up for the visit.
Oh my gosh! I am so excited.

So I can't see

I'm far sighted. I knew that. I have an astigmatism. I knew that too. But apparently, I've been cheating my eyes for so long that I am losing my far vision also. Or so my eye doc says. I've got new glasses on order, but they aren't the strength I really need. My eyes can't handle the correction I need so this in the middle ground for the next year or so.

Oh, and I am at risk for developing acute angle glaucoma. So I can't do a full dilation and have to see a ophthalmologist to see if he wants to do a pre-emptive iridectomy. My mom also has this. She's also had iridectomies on both eyes. Usually, if you are prone to this eye problem, it develops as you get older. It's a fast acting glaucoma and you can lose all eyesight in 24-72 hours if the pressure gets bad.

But my iris already has a low angle and last week I was having eye "headaches" bad enough to make me feel nauseous.

Joy.

But I have cute new glasses on order.
****It's not a state of denial. Some people are worriers. I prefer making a plan. As long as I have a plan and know what is going to happen, I'm all good. I'm in the "do what you can and then don't worry" camp of people. Plus stress increases eye pressure.

I'll give him a week.

Then we'll have to start setting some limits.

We have a new little boy in the neighborhood. He can see our driveway and front yard from his yard. He's also an only child so my 4 boys are like his first trip to a candy store.

Oh and he's homeschooled too.

Yeah.

He's been over every day since Saturday. Some days, twice. I'm assuming he gets finished with his work a lot quicker than my brood does, because he's come over right at 2:00 once.
The boys like playing with him though. It's just that we have a very busy life. Monday we have baseball from 4:45 to 7:30. Tuesdays are speech at 10 and 11 and then scouts from 2:30 to 4:30. Wednesdays we go to OT and leave the house at 12:15 and don't get back until 3. Thursdays, is OT at our house for an hour and then more speech Monday morning.
That's not even counting our support group activities and field trips, visits to my mom's, and school. We're not just homeschoolers. We are van-schoolers, waiting room-schoolers, mom's house schoolers, and sitting on the grass outside the public school-schoolers. We're flexible but I do like a little privacy.

I haven't met mom yet.

Update: Two balls hit over the fence into the brambles of the woods today. One lost yesterday. I can't afford to buy 3 baseballs each week.

Remind again why homeschooling is a bad thing?

This is long so draw up a chair.
Yesterday, we had one of those unfortunate encounters while A and M were at therapy.

Yep, some well intentioned fellow therapy-getter asked, "Why aren't you boys in school today?' For one brief moment I thought the following diatribe: "Excuse me. Do you see me... the mother of these children, sitting here? If you have any questions about my children, you should direct them to me only. I have taught my children about the dangers of strangers and YOU, being well aware of all the things going on in the world, should know better than to try to undermine my parental authority by tempting them into conversation with a stranger. And while we are on that point, why should I and my children have to answer questions about our private business. I would never dream of asking you why you weren't at work today. I would assume that you were a responsible adult and capable of making decisions for you own and your families wellbeing."

I'm a fast thinker.

But I didn't say any of that. I just grinned because my 10 year old, who was very busy doing his math work when the person interrupted him, answered..."I am at school. I'm homechooled."

I knew immediately from the pursed lips of the stranger that this was the worst answer my son could possibly give. Thankfully, my son had a question about multiplying multi-digit numbers with decimals and the explanation lasted until the annoyed person was called back to therapy.

Yes, I know that many people have problems with homeschooling.
My children will be sheltered.
My children will not learn what they need to know.
I can't teach them what they need to know.
My children won't learn how to deal with bullies.
My children will miss out of school friends.
My children will be socially awkward.

Homeschooling is not at all what some people think it is.

It's impossible to shelter children these days. And I really don't try. They watch the news so they have some idea of atrocities that occur around the world. They listen to mainstream music, though I do seek out music without profanity and overt sexual references. But I don't protect them any more than a parent should protect a child.

They aren't missing anything academically. Well, I take that back. My children are unversed in most of the political correctness and dumbed down curriculum that is rampant in our school system. My 10 year old has read MLK Jr's "I have a dream speech" instead of being fed bits and pieces of it by teachers who may not have read the whole thing themselves. (I'm still reeling from the "I have a dream that you will learn your math facts." poster that is still on the wall of the school. I just find it so offensive.)
We have this wonderful opportunity as homeschoolers. I get to teach to mastery. That means, if my kids don't learn it...we don't move on until they do. No child gets left behind at our house. There are no cracks to fall through. They get individualized private instruction in all areas with programs tailored to meet their needs.

And I think I can teach them what they need to know. Let's just pretend that I didn't have degree in Biology and a minor in Organic Chemistry with all the math classes that a science degree calls for. Let's also pretend that I don't have any experience in teaching children ages 5 through 16. School was not that hard. I mean really. not. that. hard. I managed to graduate from high school with what I would have to assume was enough high school knowledge to make it in the world. If I did not have enough high school knowledge...I shouldn't have that lovely blue and orange diploma. I should know enough to impart that hard won wisdom upon the shining faces of my numerous offsrping.
Ok, ok, ok...assume I didn't learn enough. We have access to libraries, internet, magazines, and other educated people. If my children can't figure it out and I can't figure it out, I think we can manage to find someone who can.

My children do learn how to deal with bullies and pushy people. We get lots of experience in dealing with them in the waiting rooms, grocery stores, and other public spaces. But they don't learn how to deal with these annoying people by watching other children (who don't know how to deal with bullies either.) My children get to watch how I and my husband handle these people who have overstepped their boundaries. They see us stand up for what we feel is right. They see us hold our tongue when pushed and apologize when we loose our composure. They get to see the ways to respond before they are put into the situation. They never have to fend for themselves.

As for the rest...the socialization problem...it's not a problem. My kids have friends. In fact, they keep too busy sometimes.
Right now my "unsocialized and awkward" children are in the front yard playing with 2 friends in the neighborhood. Currently, there are 6 boys and two girls who just stopped by to join the game of basketball. Everyone is playing wonderfully even though my children are ages 10 through 2. The brothers are looking out for each other and their friends are OK with that. Sometimes they even bring their siblings along too. In our yard no one is allowed to exclude. You play with everyone or you go home.

So I have 4 boys who have great friends, some of which live in the house with them. They have sports and scouts to round out their experiences. They have an education that meets their individual needs. They get to learn how to handle the ills of society by observing from a safe distance and modeling behavior. They get to spend time with family on our own schedule instead of one dictated by the state.
And none of them has a desire to wear designer clothes.

And homeschooling is a bad thing?

I'm done.

I have suceeeded on my goal.

I am done with the massive hat. I have reached my Olympic goal.
UPDATE**
Pictures are now on my knitting blog. The link is on the right, if you want to take a peek.

Those 10 days went flying by...

***Updated because I found my flash card reader.***

Ok, let's see. Recap of the last ten days. Think of it as a Cliff notes version of life at the Zoo.
I and 2 of the kids got and got over a cold and stomach issues.

Baseball camp:
J had a baseball camp with 3 minor league ball players. He really enjoyed himself and learned a lot. I found out that a. the boy can hit a pitched ball better than a machine pitch and b. it takes about four hours for a frozen behind to warm up again.
5 hours out in 40 degrees, windy, overcast skies shows true dedication as a parent. I spent the time working on ZooDad's hat and wearing Mom's hat to stay warm.

7 speech and OT sessions:
Going well. A had a high holy duck fit when the new pre-school therapist showed up at the house. It was nice for someone in school authority to see that side of him. Open defiance is rare for him but BOY is it ugly.
St Linda had an episode at one session and miraculously fixed herself once again. Chrysler Dude and I may have uncovered the cause but it's not a fixable issue. Crazy van.

Valentine's day: I got a skin for my ipod video from the boys. I also downloaded a whole bunch of chick music and podcasts.

House: Was clean but now I have a mountain of laundry to fold. Carpets are clean though. I had Duraclean come and do them. Those people are wonderful. $100 and two rooms, two halls, one set of stairs and the top landing are all sparkling. All the UCS's (Unidentified carpet stains) are gone.
This is so much better than me doing it.

Knitting:
ZooDad's massive hat had a catastophe due to my figgling around with the pattern but I think I may have pulled that one out. I should finish it in the next few days. I've had to rewrite the whole pattern to accommodate thinner yarn and a bigger head. This is the same Cascade Quatro yarn from the last hat. #8 needles in the round. This will eventually have two jester's braids with tassels.










I started sock class with Penny. I'm working on a new sideways sock with some wild purple variations.

This is Lorna's Laces Watercolor and some funky purple. That's waste yarn from a provisional cast on. Thankfully that lovely yarn will go away. #1 DPNs. ONES!!! They are ridiculously thin. If I get through these socks without breaking a needle...it will be a miracle. I hope to get the other sock panel done before class next week. I have two skeins of the watercolor, so I can work both socks at once.









Cub Scouts:
Oh my. Pine wood derby was Saturday. (We made the cars Thursday and Friday. I stuck the wheels on Saturday morning.) Both boys won first place in both of their dens. J won second place in the whole pack and M took third.
I was shocked. All the parents just looked at me. Thankfully, all I really did was polish the axles. You can tell by the boys' cars that I did not make them for them. They weren't exactly pretty but they sure were fast. M was especially ecstatic. His goal for this year was to just make it over the finish line. His first car had some clearance issues and got stuck on the track. J's car is the alligator. He carved it himself. M's is the red. He did all that sanding and painting. BTW...The green circle is Uranus. Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Cake making:
My great niece's party was Sunday. She wanted a princess cake with pink and purple butterflies. So imagine if you will (until such a time when I can upload pictures.)a small wedding cake with flowers and candy butterflies...all done in Barbie Pink and Purple. M's only comment was, "Ugh....too girly." The birthday girl was thrilled beyond words. All she could do was gasp and smile.
All the other great nieces and nephews have put in requests for their own cakes. (There are 7 of them and one niece on ZooDad's side.)

Why children are fabulous entertainment

Baby S is 2 years and months old.
He talks.
He really talks.
He carries on full conversations, sometimes with just himself.

He was upstairs while his brothers were outside playing. Apparently, he was watching everything that was going on outside.
I heard him upstairs yelling:
"Hey Brothers. Hey, What you doing?
Hey Angel. (The dog)
Angel, you eat a dog bone?
Stamper! (The other dog)
Stamper, you eat a dog bone.
Hey Stamper, you eat it all.
Stamper! Stamper!
You done?
Hey Stamper.
I know you hear me Stamper."

I finally suggested that he go outside and speak with the dogs directly.
"But I have no shoes. I have no socks. I have on my pants though. Hey....I stink too. You change my diaper? No...no...It's just gas."

He is currently beside me playing with little Rescue heroes as I type. Full running commentary.
"walk, walk, walk
Nope, still too far to go.
Pshooo (shooting noise)
I got the silly bad guy.
You dead Silly bad guy?
Oh no, a space ship.
Help, help
Yeah space ship you hear me saying help.
Help me get down. It's too far to walk.
Pshoom, pshoom. (space ship noises)
Thanks for the ride.
Do you know the way to the mountain?
You fly right over that mountain
You'll see the silly bad guy.
I shot him.
He's dying, dying, dying.
He won't get better."

I smell a sci-fi channel screenplay. I guarantee it would be better than that English made were-wolf movie they showed last year.

The flame

Opening ceremonies.

Oh how I love the Olympics. ZooDad hates the Olympics. He has a special hatred for Ice dancing and Rhythmic gymnastics. Thankfully we have DVR and I can just record everything and then watch it when ZooDad is at work.

I love the opening ceremonies best though. All those athletes, so proud to wear their countries' colors. Full of hope. Dedicated. All set to do their very best for themselves and their countries.

Most of these proud men and women won't ever see the medal stand. They knew this before they even arrived in Italy. But they still came to do their best. Citius, Altius, Fortius. That's all they are shooting for. A medal is just gravy.

One more...

J had a birthday a few weeks ago. I totally missed my chance to wax poetically about his birth 10 years ago. But frankly, I don't remember much of it and what I do remember is hysterical and a total 180 of a natural homebirth. So I will spare y'all the details.

The kid turned 10 and much fun was had.
And we had cake.
A dragon cake to be more specific. J had requested a black dragon but I have already learned the lesson taught by black food coloring.
So we compromised on a chocolate dragon.
And here he is.

Now just look at this dragon.
He has quite an expression on his face. He looks a bit morose or it might be a case of indigestion...as if he is saying with his sad dragon eyes..."Wow! I can't believe I ate the whole herd."

Now don't be fooled by the small picture. You can't appreciate the scale of this cake. That body was made from a 10" pan cut in half. His eyes are full sized cup-cakes. His scaly armor is made from candy melts. and those pupils are M&M's.


He was a mighty cake dragon. And we ate him all up. If I ever make another dragon cake, well let's just say I learned quite a bit from this monster.

More knitting

So you might wonder. Why does the woman have a knitting blog while she still posts all that knitting junk here instead. It would be because I am inherently too lazy to have 2 blogs. I can't really compartmentalize my crazy life enough to have two separate blogs. It all kind of runs together. Case in point: This is supposed to be a homeschool blog and just how much homechooling do I actually talk about?

So bring on the knitting.



Here's Mom's finished hat. This is what she asked for. Brown cotton, plain Jane, roll brim hat. After much cajoling and me attempting to photograph myself, I finally got one of the boys to model the "girl's hat."

So there it is ...in all it's brown, rolled brim glory. In fact it has a serious brim on it. My Mom could actually unroll it down to cover her chin if she were so inclined. I kind of got crazy with the stockinette.
Specs: Two strands of Tamany Tweed cotton done on #8 DPNS. This is the hat that I was doing on #5's and then frogged it all out because it was the hat that would not end.




Same kid, different hat.

(sidenote: All of my kids have these blue eyes. It's rather shocking. The baby's are almost crayon blue. I have golden hazel eyes and ZooDad's are like chocolate. Gotta love those recessive genes.)

Here's ZooDad's hat that is way too small for his massive head. It stretches like crazy but it's just too snug. So J has commandeered it and I am knitting a new hat (my Olympic challenge) for ZooDad in the exact same yarn.

cascade Quatro on #8's. I love the #8 don't I? This yarn knits up so easy. Even the dark colors are easy to see the stitches.

So there's all my knitting news. Tomorrow, the knitting Olympics starts and you'll be overrun with knitting news.
Just what you wanted right?

My Possessed Van: Part Three...Linda is Back

Back in October and November, I told the tale of my van and its...um...odd behavior.

The van has had a history of unusual problems. First of all, there is the automatic door that might or might not close when you want it too. The same door has a habit of not giving the right away to people when it is closing. Like some Detroit Chicken game, the door just decides that it is closing regardless of what obstacle is in its way. And let me tell you, it can use its 20 pounds per square inch of pressure in the most efficient way. Most times the door loses, but every now and then, I am forced to concede that it is just too powerful for me.

Then there was the window incident where the window would not roll down and then spontaneously fixed itself. Oddly enough the same door had a lock issue. I never mentioned it...or maybe I did. I know I grumped about it quite a bit in Real Life. Anyway, the "unlock" button stopped working. And you had to either unlock it with the key or reach over. Either way it was a pain in the butt.
That fixed itself too. One day, it just stopped working and then one day, it just worked.
Weird? I think so.

Oh and we can't forget the day it stopped parking. That one was fun to explain to ZooDad and the guys at the Chrysler Fix-em-up shop. No one believes you when you say your van just won't park.

And I know for a fact that I didn't even bring up that the thermostat just froze in the open position leaving me with a van that never warmed up (the little engine pointer stayed on "C.") and lacking all manner of heat. It took the guys 2 trips to the shop to figure out that lovely little problem last week. Even after I told them that it was the thermostat.

So, just imagine the look on my face today.
At speech at the school as usual on Tuesday mornings.
With the boys doing school work and listening to SOTW on CD.
Just imagine my face when the CD player went dead after 20 minutes.
Dead.
No power.
Then I instinctively turned the key to hear... "click, click, click, click."
It was all I could do to keep the flood of profanity from erupting from my mouth.

It was Deja' Vu. I had lived that very moment. Heck, it hadn't even been long enough for me to get my oil changed again.

I got out of the van and stomped and flailed my arms, scaring the dickens out of the custodial worker taking out the trash. (Crazy homeschool mom.) Then I called ZooDad who made me do the whole "start the van" thing again. (Didn't work.) Then called my guy at the Chrysler place, (They know my voice. They know my van. They know my children.) to let them know that I was returning once more with my van ASAP and that I was not happy.

By the time, ZooDad arrived to rescue me....the van started right up.
Yep...another Chrysler miracle. If my van were a nun, she'd be a saint by now.

But I wasn't falling for it this time. I took it straight to the shop, straight to the manager and had a loooooooong discussion about the fact that my van stops working and the fact that is miraculously and disturbingly starts working again.

They think they know the problem now. Some regulator from the battery to the rest of the van. It should be ready by lunch tomorrow. I sure hope that's it because my van will be paid off next month and I plan on driving that bad girl into the ground.
Even if the face of Jesus fogs up in my rear window.

Saint Linda...Patron Saint of the mini-vans.

Swatched, designed and all ready to go.

I'm all set for the Knitting Olympics. (I know this should go on the knitting blog...but I clicked this one, so there ;P

I'm making another hat for ZooDad. I finished his first one and even with the massive amount of K2,P2 ribbing, it barely fits his massive noggin.

So I am starting a new hat, designed just for him.
I planned to do the Rebel, Rebel hat from the Lion Yarns book of hats. (picture to come later) That's the one hubby picked out. It has cables up the sides that turn into knitted braids that end in two (like pigtails) tassels on the top of the hat. It will be absolutely ridiculous on ZooDad's head.

The problem was that I didn't have any chunky weight yarn that ZooDad liked nor did I have #10.5 DPNs. My hat plan was foiled. (I have too significant of a yarn staff to justify buying more yarn right now.)

So I swatched a few rounds of Cascade 220 on #8 circular needles to determine how many stitches I would need to go around ZooDad's head. (104 with a little stretching on the ribbing) Then I swatched out the cables to see how to do it and rewrote the whole pattern to accommodate the smaller yarn and increased amount of stitches.
Now I am all set to go.

In fact, the project seems that it just might be a bit too easy. I mean, this is supposed to be a challenge. Something that is to push us to go beyond our level of expertise.
So I have a back-up Olympic challenge. I have cable socks (Never done any patterned socks) ready to go too. I plan to knit them on 2 circular needles (which I have also never done) at the same time. (New for me too.) I've already swatched that yarn and rolled two little balls.
The swatching went well. I'm right on gauge. The rolling of the little balls was a fiasco. I need a ball winder.
Since I don't have one and had never made two balls from one...I pulled out the whole skein. (Picture that mess)
And then folded the two ends and made one ball with two strands. Cut the end and unwound the ball into two piles. (twice the mess) And finally wound each ball separately.
Next time I will just buy two skiens and make two pairs of socks. It was bad. The yarn made it through but my nerves were shot.

Just letting you know

According to the official Zoo Schedule, The following dates in February are free (not counting our regular school stuff): 9th, 20th, and 27th. Every other day is booked up. Some are double booked.
Yep...To quote the Veggies..."I'm busy, busy...dreadfully busy."

I'm looking at the calendar and wondering how it's all going to happen.
sniff...sniff
I smell a challenge.
I Loooooooove a challenge.

I know it's big

It's really big. I'm sorry.
Photobucket is having some sizing issues and I'm too lazy to go upstairs and fire up the Harrier so I can use Photoshop.
Just scroll past the family. But while you are doing that, please notice just how close to the water my family is standing. We saw two alligators that day. TWO! One was about 25 feet from the location of the sign.

Thankfully, we didn't feed any alligators and came home with all four kids.

The kid has surpassed me

We have several bird feeders on our deck, right outside a bank of kitchen windows. I love having little feathers friends and I'm a sucker for a pretty brass bird feeder. Our yard also backs up to a Wetland habitat with a large open field that draws lots of non-bird feeder types.
So the Boys have grown up watching our daily visitors. A couple of Christmases ago, J was given an Audubon Bird Guide and the NG Field Guide to Birds. These really help cement a love for casual birdwatching. And they made it much harder for me to let the feeders run empty.

Both books are lacking front covers now and the two oldest boys have become quite proficient at picking out the important details needed for identification. My MIL has watched in wonder as 6 pairs of cardinals have perched all around the deck. (She never gets them on the farm and they are her favorites.) Lately, we've had Red-Bellied Woodpeckers at the feeders and picking at bugs between the deck boards.
It's quite entertaining to see a big woodpecker trying to perch on a feeder that the Cardinals barely fit on.
One morning we awoke to a Blue Heron in the back yard. We often see Turkey Vultures riding the thermals in great packs. We occasionally have a family of Canadian geese stop by but none live in the wetland. Red Tailed Hawks search for rodents, as does Max the Cat...but he seems to specialize in moles. Fat Mourning Doves sit on the Deck Rails waiting for food to drop. They've learned that they are just too awkward to even try to perch on the feeders.
We see Robins hunting for worms, Little Black-capped Chickadees hopping nervously, and Field Sparrows have claimed our front porch as prime nesting real estate.
Thrashers, Warblers, Sprarrows...all eating and fighting around the back deck.

So today I looked outside and spied something I hadn't seen before. (or so I thought.) I yelled for J to come and see this new little bird with black on the top, white on the bottom, and an orange stripe under its wing.

"Mom...It's just a female Tufted Titmouse. They come all the time."

Shoot. How could I miss a Tufted Titmouse

The sword has shifted slightly

It's still hanging up there but the position has shifted slightly.

Edited to add obscure lyrics to relate to the obscure mythical reference: "Oh Woe is me...My life is a misery." 100 ZooPoints to whomever can name that particular song. 50 for the mythical reference.

The school system has decided to provide OT/Pre-school readiness services to A one hour a week. AT HOME! Woohoo! And if the school person feels his need is too great, they will add services from an Occupational therapist...AT MY HOME!

No added running around. So we're back to just running around on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I'm so happy. Happy that he will get services and happy that they will come to me. It's a big relief.

Here's a bit for my "A cracks me up" file.
The other day he told me that when he's a Dad, his children will pick out their own names. I was kind of heart broken for a moment. Don't you like your name? It was my Daddy's name. It was a wonderful name and one to be proud of. Why don't you want to name your own children names that are special too?
"But I don't KNOW any names. So they can just name themselves."
Hee, hee, hee.

When I asked him what he would call these children until they were old enough to actually name themselves, he replied, "I'll call them Baby, Little Man, and Boo." (Our terms of affection for the boys.) Everyday, he talks about his "children that will have to name themselves." The speech therapist even brought it up. When I explained it to her, she didn't even try not to laugh.

You should hear his plan for their rooms, wall colors, and TV situation. He's got it all planned out...except names.

An education post

Lessons learned so far this year:

Rod and Staff grammar is great for my advanced reader and highly creative writer who just happens to be a gifted speller.
Rod and Staff grammar is a horrible fit for my troubled reader with poor fine motor skills that can not pick out details and gets frustrated by a lot of information in a small area.

Singapore Science is great for all learning styles as long as the Mom has a extensive background in science or knows someone with a great background. It is great for fostering scientific thinking but lax on vocabulary and hands-on learning. Thankfully, I can easily make up for that. I have more trouble paring down the info than beefing it up. For non-science moms or science moms with "Barney-brain" the teacher's guides are worth the money.

Explode the Code is awesome for kids who just aren't getting the "code." It also help with spelling and handwriting. The Pre-code books are equally fabulous. The drawings are all a bit...well...Unprofessional but that just seems to be Mom's issue and the the kids'.
MCP phonics isn't nearly as good as ETC and the Teacher's Guide is a total waste of money.

Spelling workout doesn't help spellers with speech problems and it isn't a challenge for natural spellers. But it is great for vocabulary.

Wordly Wise is an asset for children who gifted with words but torture for those who aren't.

MCP math is the bomb baby! Singapore math is just not for kids who have their own strong, spatial, understanding of math. In fact it can be a detriment for kids who have a good grasp on math. It messes with their way of figuring things out and not in a good way. It's cute though and has great word problems.

Story of the World is best done without all the activities and stuff. Just read and discuss. If you need pictures use a supplement book or look up stuff online. All the extra stuff just keeps us from getting it done.

Evan-Moore Daily Geography is fast and incredibly useful. We do the whole week in one setting and it covers most of the "social studies" stuff that SOTW doesn't.

Latin doesn't get done but that is ok.

Mind benders, Building thinking skills, and logic games like Rush Hour and RIver Crossing are worth their weight in gold.

Oh...and snap circuits are the greatest invention ever for boys ages 8 and up.

Because I just can't leave things alone

After Monday's meeting, I starting working up my new plan. (See I can manage anything with a plan. It's the whole "out there flappin' thing" that just rails on my nerves.)

My current plan for the "fellows of many needs" in our little zoo is:

Tuesdays: A gets 30 minutes of speech at school and them M gets his own 30 minutes of speech at school.
Wednesdays: M and A alternate OT in private therapy for 20 visits each and then we shell out some more big bucks to make up the rest of the 12 weeks of the year.
Fridays: A goes back to school for another 30 minutes of speech.
When summer hits, both boys go to private speech 1 hour a week for 20 visits each.
In the mean time I continue to fight the state for Medicaid bennies for A. I think this will turn out in our favor. So far all of the local cases have been reinstated. Let's just hope the judge agrees with us.
We will also have A re-evaluated using the Miller and Peabody pre-school tests. These new results go to the school and the state to fight for school therapy and re-instatement of state benefits.

Other news. I just got a call from our special needs coordinator. We have another meeting scheduled for the 30th, after she received further information from the state. I have no idea what that information is but I would HOPE that we wouldn't schedule a second meeting to tell us that A didn't qualify for services. That would just be cruel.

This all brings me back to that "things I have learned that I never thought I would have to" kind of feeling. Sometimes, I kind of step back and listen to the words I throw around in these meetings and think, "Dang girl, I don't remember anyone mentioning this stuff in childbirth class. This is soooooooo not what we signed up for."
A friend of mine told me that God gives parents these children with special needs to see how we will respond to the challenge. Whether we will view these children as a gift from God to treasure and do all we can for. Of if we will see them a burden to deal with.

I have to admit that sometimes I feel both ways. I see parents whose biggest worry is a kid with a cold and I envy them. They've never had to put a child under anesthesia for surgery. They've never watched a child with a feeding tube cry for milk. They've never sat with a child on a nubulizer fighting to breathe. They don't spend 4 hours a week in a waiting room, every week.

But then again to those people that first "momma" just isn't as sweet. Running down the hall without falling even once isn't that big of an achievement. A handwritten name with all the letters well formed and facing the right directions isn't grounds for a huge celebration. And they will never understand that making eye contact and saying "hello" to a stranger is a massive mountain to surmount.

And while I would love to spend just one day not having to make accommodations, I could imagine my life any different. My children's disabilities are just part of who they are. They will overcome them and it will make them stronger, more compassionate people in the end. And their "normal" brothers will benefit from watching their brothers preservere and succeed despite all that stuff in the way. They will learn true tolerance and acceptance. They will learn that anything that has value is worth working for. They will learn that it is their job when they become parents to do all they can for their own children and never, ever give up.

At least I hope that is what they will learn.

Out of holding pattern and starting to descend

Ever since we found out that A had lost his special needs medical benefits, I've been in standby mode. I just can't handle the unknown, especially an unknown dependent upon the whims of other people.

Today, things are not quite so unknown. We hired an advocate and yesterday we all sat down at the school to discuss what care he would get through them. He missed out on OT by .07ths of a point. Rules state 2 standard deviations below the norm in one area on two tests or -1.5 SDs in two areas. He scrored -2.33 in one area and -1.93 on the other test of that area (that translates into one point too high.) and he scored -1.4 in two other areas. (N retest was done since he "passed.")

He does qualify for speech though. He'll get two 30 minute sessions each week.
We're still fighting the other. He'll be retested and the school says that they will accept the results. They know he needs help. They know he does have significant developmental delay, even if the scores are a tad too to high. And they know he has know he has no cognitive problems (1.4 SD above average) and his language is wonderful (1.3 SD above average.)

So while it isn't the best outcome, I can now take the next steps. I'm not just circling and waiting on someone else to do their job.

Banging head against the table

I know his spelling isn't that great. I know his fine motor coordination makes his handwriting unbeautiful. I know his vision affects his reading.

But WHY, WHY, WHY is he not getting that sentences start with a capital letter and end with some sort of punctuation. We've done the first chapter of R&S grammar. We've done all the sentence stuff form at least 3 other workbook/textbooks and the kid still won't start a sentence with a capital letter and put punctuation at the end.


You know what bugs me the most though. For anyone else, he would feel compelled to perform well. He wants to please other people and tries hard to meet expectations...except mine.

All I want is a capital at the beginning and a period at the end.

I have a new blog

I didn't want to bore you with knitting and crocheting posts. (not that I mind boring you with all the other stuff.) So I started A Zoo Full of Knitting because the knitting needs its own darn zoo.

Just two posts and one of them you've seen before. But you have to see my socks. In fact if you know anyone who mind need the pair in their current condition...I'll RAK them to you. LOL

Close...very

From my IRL friend at Lover of Dolphins

What LoTR Character Are You?

You are most like Merry. Hooray for you! You have no problems fitting in with a crowd, and you are often the life of the party. Good thing you're really smart too. Although many people like you, you are very serious about life. Go ahead and make the best of it. Just remember that those who are closest to you will be lost forever if you forget them.

The remembrance thing hits home. I am the family memory. I keep all the special photos and trinkets, wedding rings, glasses, rosaries. When my father died, we called the cemetery for get the plot number. For some reason the needed to look it up by the death date of the last person buried. January 10, 1984. I knew it without thinking. My Nanny died that day. My brother was dumbfounded that I remembered it when I was only 13 at the time.

But I forgot MIL's birthday this year. So I am far for perfect. LOL

A victory for the kid who can't see so well

M has eye problems. He was diagnosed at 3 with strabismus. It was temporarily "cured" with glasses. When he was 4, the diagnosis was strabismus (accommodative esotropia), 4th nerve palsy and astigmatism in both eyes. Oh yeah, and he's far-sighted. By that time his vision in his turning eye had gone to 20/100. We patched for several months...8 to 10 hours each day.
It hard to teach letters to a kid with one eye...with 20/30 vision. Then there was the first surgery and the time without glasses to help his eye muscles learn to work again. And then the second surgery and more time without glasses.

It's been a year since his last surgery. His vision is currently 20/30 and he is still out of glasses until we get those eyes aligned as well as possible. We're close.

During this whole eye ordeal, reading instruction has been not been as dedicated as it would for a child with no vision problems. Plus his speech problems cause some difficulty in decoding. His ophthalmologist has viewed our homeschooling as a positive thing. We've been able to focus on his eye health instead of school grades. A school kid would have been back in glasses way before now and wouldn't get the chance to let his eyes align naturally. For us, vision and ultimately binocular vision is most important. The school stuff can wait.

The fact that the kid doesn't enjoy reading (and you wouldn't either if you had to close one eye and cock your head to see things. And if your eyes jumped enough to make you lose your place on the line with every few words.) doesn't help either.

But tonight I pulled out a copy of "My Father's Dragon" and he read the first chapter for me with very few problems thanks to bright lighting and a blue highlighter line to help him stay on the correct line. He's even over that "race right over the periods but stop sentences at the end of the line" thing that drives me crazy about little kid oral reading. He was able to understand what he was reading and didn't have to focus all his attention on decoding.

First chapter book. One chapter down...nine more to go.

It's better than Comedy Central

S is having a fine funny day.
Well not at the very moment. At this very moment he is asleep on our bed in time out for hitting one of his brothers in the head with a rather large stick/pine tree branch.
But earlier he was down right funny.

He came running to me and rubbing his head.
"Ouchie, ouchie, ouchie...I hurt myself"
Where did you hurt yourself?
"In the living room."
drum riff

This was after he told me
"I don't want to go to the car wash. I said NO!" Complete with finger waving and stern look.
I told him that didn't have the option of "saying no" but he sure was cute trying to be the little big man. It's hard not to laugh.

And the Little Big Man is might be wishing he hadn't whacked his brother with a stick also. He's going to have to start rethinking the whole "give me what I want or I'll hit you" thing. His brothers have shown great patience but they are no Job.

It's tough being two going on twenty.

Test season already

My second son goes to the local PS for speech therapy once a week. It's actually interesting to walk through the school on a weekly basis and see what the kids are up to.

Friday, we had a special visit for A to have a speech evaluation. Apparently it is already time to start pushing that State testing. The CRCT posters are up at every turn. The poor kids can't go anywhere without being reminded that the CRCT is coming soon. Because as we all know, the fate of the free world relies how well the school scores on a state test. Poor kids. They face months of testing stress at every turn.
Some of these posters are to me, borderline offensive. Rosa Parks says, "I will not move until you learn your multiplication facts." Martin Luther King, Jr. says, "I have a dream that all students will learn the parts of speech."

seriously.
I guess I am the only parent that thinks that the great stand that Mrs. Parks made shouldn't be used to get kids to score well on a silly state test. I also don't remember any thing about parts of speech in the I Have A Dream speech. It seems cheapening and it doesn't teach these children anything about the Civil Rights Era, math, or grammar.

Instead of pushing this test on every flat surface in the school, maybe the school should start pushing the information students should learn instead. Take down the posters about the high stress, up-coming, every-so-important test. And put up posters ON the parts of speech and multiplication facts. Homeschoolers do this. We do it.
Why not list the states and capitals on the wall for the lunch line. If state symbols are that important to know...put them on the lunch tables. Instead of just putting a calendar up of class parties, testing schedules, and field trips...make a "this day in history" calendar. Education is not just something spoon fed to you by a teacher. Kids can pick up all kinds of things by just being repeatedly exposed to it. If you read that list of capitals enough times...you can't help but learn a few.
Use those flat surfaces to educate students instead of scaring their wits out of them.

Oh...and when an art class does an exhibition on athropromorphic art, if would be more educational if you'd include an explanation and maybe a history lesson for the kids NOT in that particular art class. That way they get something out of the display.

That would be a lot better than the felt posters reminding students that about "The Keys to CRCT success."

The question might be, who cares about a bathroom?

Why even bother fixing up an out dated upstairs bathroom in the first place? Especially one that get frequented by 4 boys.

Well, because they are my four boys and I've already wasted 7 years bathing little ones in a cramped dark room that I absolutly hate. I've rushed bath time for 7 years because I just couldn't hang out in that room any longer than I had too.

The boys deserve more than that...even if their toilet aim leaves much to be desired. So the room is something special for them. Something bright and easy to clean. With 4 siblings, the bathroom becomes a refuge of sorts. A place to read and be alone. The one place wher you are gauranteed a little privacy.

It shouldn't be so ugly.

And if the boys get tired of the frog theme...we can always change it to SpongeBob. It's that yellow up there.

I smell of bleach and paint

A few months ago, I started redo-ing the boys' upstairs bathroom. I stripped the original 80's wallpaper to find horrible walls underneath. I primed the walls and then painted them a light yellow only to discover that there were holes everywhere. ZooDad tore out the 6 bulb light bar and found NO light box. None. Just a gaping hole with an electrical wire hanging grotesquely from some unknown origin.
After the original shock, he went out and bought a light box, installed it, and put in a sweet new silver light fixture with only 2 bulbs.

Well this weekend, I once again took up the task in the bathroom.
After spackling and sanding, I decided that the light yellow was just too light.
Thankfully, I have a paint stash. I decided on a darker yellow. (Pismo Dunes Behr) and starting painting everything all over again. I primed the vanity and painted it an antique White. Once, I had painted everything I could...I called ZooDad to remove the toilet. The plan was to cover the old original 80's yellow linoleum with new, seamless, sage green speckled vinyl.
That was the plan. After removing the shoe molding, I found that the old linoleum wasn't as glued down as I hoped. I pulled up a corner and it shattered.

So tomorrow the plan is to pull up all the old stuff. I figure this will be a lot harder than I expect. I'm sure that it is still glued down right in the middle. I'd love to be wrong though. Then I have to clean everything...again and make a template of the room to cut the new vinyl.**

After that, I paint trim and start gluing down the new floor. Finally is the details. Hanging all the doors and adding hardware. Shower curtain, border, and the accessories. This is going to be the frog bathroom. Since it is my least favorite room to hang out in, I thought I'd pick a fun decor that I liked. Oh yeah...and reinstalling the toilet. That's got to happen too.
It is currently in the tub. The boys are having a huge laugh over that and the gaping hole in the floor.

It will be finished by Friday. I'll take pictures.

** You might wonder why we aren't tiling the floor. Did I mention that I have 4 boys? Did I mention that this is their bathroom. Would you want to clean grout around the toilet used by 3 and soon to be 4 four boys? Don't you think that solid, seamless vinyl would be a better idea and easier to clean? Yeah, me too.

Awwwwww, Man!

I just checked my camera. I "forgot" to take pictures. Well, that's not true. I took some pictures but not nearly as many as I should have.
I have NO pictures of:
the gigngerbread house the boys made
the ornaments the boys made
the other trees in the house
the boys baking cookies
the special ornaments we collect. (I vow to take pictures every year and never do)
the boys in front of the tree
my fireplace with all the stockings, garland, Santas, and the other tree.
the outside lights
the toys before the boys "found" them
my mom

I am so disappointed.
The pictures I do have, well, let's just say they aren't goign to winning any blue ribbons.

It was a great holiday though. The house looked awesone until the toy bomb went off. I guess there is alwys next year.

8 hours 'til I hit the ground running

Tomorrow is our first day back to school. We've taken about 3 weeks off for the holidays and we have to reluctantly get our collective noses back to the grindstone.
Of course, I have to go all out. No half hearted start up for me, so sir-ee. Tomorrow, we'll have school, speech therapy at the school, and 2 hours of Cub Scouts.
Wednesday, we'll start A back at speech and OT. At least for a month or so. On the 23rd, we meet with the school to see what services they will provide and what they want from us in return. I also have to call A's social worker and see where we are in getting out trial date for Medicaid.

In all honesty, I'm beginning to feel defeated in my quest to get my son the treatment he needs. I feel that I have lost the fight before even getting the chance to speak for my son. Every one has already decided that his need is not great enough. The school has the teacher from the special Ed Class coming to the evaluation. This is the class for intellectually disabled children. The state has denied our continued coverage until the hearing. They say he doesn't need 5 day a week treatment. (He does but his therapist can't request it because the state will only pay for 10 sessions a month.)
So we are at an impasse.
The state says he's doesn't have a high level of need.
The school says he needs to be in a special ed classroom.
The therapist say he is profoundly speech disabled and severely developmentally delayed.

But no one but me really knows this little boy.
It funny...when he goes for these evaluations, I tell the evaluator what his problems are, what are his strengths are, and how to get the best out of him. When the test is concluded, they are always so surprised that I was right.
I'm not sure why they are so shocked.
Why shouldn't I know my son best.

I wish I could get the state, the therapists, the judge, and the school all together in one place and just sit them all down and say:
"This is my son. He has Severe Apraxia of Speech. He is also dyspraxic and is developmentally delayed. However, he is extremely intelligent. His cognitive abilities are above average. He is clever, creative, and loving. He will someday be a productive citizen if we can get his body up to the speed of his wonderful mind. I will do all that I can to make this happen. This is what I need you to do to help. A needs 3 one-hour individual speech sessions each week and one one-hour occupational therapy session. I would be interested in adding one or two group speech sessions and possibly a group OT session each week. We can do the group sessions at school, but A will not be enrolled in the special-ed classroom as he is not mentally handicapped. I will make sure that his education is equal to or superior to anything the school can provide a "normal" student. If you could make sure we can get appropriate therapy, A will turn out just fine."

You think they'd make that happen?

Well, tomorrow we catch up on math, start teaching A how to blend sounds other than "fat cat sat," and introduce some new triangular pencils and see if M and A can hold those a bit better.
Wish me luck