Tragic Sandwich

Category: Education

  • BookTalk: Petunia, The Girl Who Was NOT A Princess

    Disclosure: I was provided a free copy of this book in exchange for writing a review. All views expressed are my own.

    Looking for new books to mix up your child’s library? Baguette really likes to revisit her favorites, but we want to add to the mix without taking away her comfort zone. So let’s kick off a new series with a book about broadening your comfort zone while being true to yourself.

    M.R. Nelson is a technology management consultant who has two young daughters, and her daughters love stories. Her second children’s book is Petunia, The Girl Who Was NOT A Princess.

    book cover for Petunia, the girl who was NOT a princess

    Petunia prefers sweatshirts to frilly dresses and mud pies to tea parties, and she can’t understand the girls around her who love playing princess. Then Penelope moves in next door, and Petunia realizes that she may have been misjudging princesses and the other girls she knows.

    The book is about growth, but it’s not didactic; it’s fun and funny, and I enjoyed reading it (and I enjoyed Holly Liminton’s illustrations). I also like that Petunia and Penelope’s world is multicultural, and that the focus is on appreciating both similarities and differences, not on changing who you are. “Princess” and “NOT A Princess” are equally valued and valuable–which is just what I want Baguette to learn.

    So if you’re looking for a nice read about nice kids who learn to appreciate one another, this book may be for you and yours. (Available in hardcover and Kindle editions. Also available in Spanish.)

    I was not compensated for this post, however I did receive a sample for my review. All opinions are my own and not influenced in any way. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

  • Lifelong Learning

    Baguette has a significant language delay. We do a lot of interpretation.

    NighYouRah

    She works so hard at communicating. I’m so impressed with her, and how diligent and persistent she is with any number of tasks. These are traits that are going to serve her well no matter what she chooses to do with her life.

    These traits are invaluable with ABA. She makes no secret of the moments when she is bored, or frustrated. There are plenty of times when she resists completing a task or participating in an activity (to the point of banshee screams). But there are so many other times when she will Just. Keep. Trying.

    She does this with speech, and I want to encourage her. So I try really hard not to tell her that she’s saying something incorrectly. Instead, I say things like this:

      “Mommy doesn’t know that one yet.”

      “Mommy still has to learn that.”

      “Maybe you and I can figure that out together.”

    Because I want to let her know that communication is a two-way street, and the burden isn’t entirely hers. I want to let her know that I’m still learning, too. I want to show her that adults also struggle. I want to let her know that it’s possible to share tasks and work together.

    Ultimately, I want to help her make herself understood to others. But first, I have to show her that I understand her. I have to show her that I’m going to work hard with her. I have to show her that I think hearing her, listening to her are worthwhile, even if it’s not immediately easy for me.

    Oh, and Nigh You Ra? She requested it for days. I asked her ABA providers and her teacher and Bestie’s mom and a co-worker with a daughter slightly younger than Baguette. And then (as you can see above) I turned to Twitter–and I was not surprised at all when the answer came from Cloud, with an assist from one of her daughters:

  • Baguette, of Late

    The last six weeks have been pretty incredible. Toward the end of December, both Baguette’s day care and our workplace closed for the holidays. At the same time, her evening ABA therapist got married and took a few weeks off. We did schedule one session with the therapist who goes to her daycare, but for the most part it was a real break for all of us.

    We’ve discovered that these breaks are very important. Routine lets Baguette learn new skills; the breaks are when she shows us what she can do. And when this break ended, she kept going. Here is a not even remotely exhaustive list of the new things we’re seeing from her.

    • She answered a question with a specific response: When Rockin’ Elmo said, “What do you want to do now?” she answered, “Run on the grass.”
    • She didn’t just quote, but imitated the “how do you wrap a present” segment from the Elmo’s World about birthdays.
    • On New Year’s Eve, she let Bestie watch videos with her on the iPad.
    • One day, after several viewings of a “Happy Halloween” Sesame Street compilation on YouTube, she came up behind us when we were in another room and said “Boo!”
    • One evening, she said, “Want carry you.” Then she jumped up into my arms and yelled, “Whee!”
    • Another evening, before bed, she sang first the first two lines of her favorite lullaby by herself.
    • She played with her Connect Four game and took turns with her stuffed lion.
    • When coloring, she enhanced a drawing of an elephant to show it spraying water with its trunk.
    • This morning, she used her Sesame Street-inspired gift-wrapping skills to help wrap Bestie’s birthday present.
    • At the zoo:

      • * “The elephant is eating the carrots”
      * “Look, an elephant”
      * “I see a lion”

    • After climbing and playing on the elephant statue at the zoo playground, she ran back, hugged it, and said “I love you. I love you.”

    small girl sitting on statue of elephant

    To a lot of people, these developments may not sound like much. But for Baguette, and for us, they’re huge.

    She’s communicating in ways she never has before. She’s expressing a complexity of thought that is new. She’s interacting in ways that we haven’t seen.

    Because not only will she let the lion take turns at Connect Four, but when she completed a task at day care and her teacher asked her if she wanted to pick a friend to jump with, she walked up to one of the little boys in her class and held out her hands to him.

    It’s hard to know who was happiest about this–us, her teacher, or the little boy, who apparently was overjoyed that the girl who talks to no one had picked him out of the group. But probably the answer is that we were happiest. Because we know what it took her to get here.

  • What Comes To Mind

    • I’ve read Tuck Everlasting more than once and have no idea what happens in that book.
    • Ditto Wide Sargasso Sea.
    • I also don’t understand the appeal of ripped jeans as attractive fashion. I didn’t get them last time, either.
    •  Is there a way to eat meringues gracefully?
    • Why am I eating this meringue?
    • High temperatures still are in the 80s in our part of L.A. Hello, November!
    • I baked pumpkin bread anyway.
    • We are entering the world of LAUSD. I’ll admit it, just like everyone else does–I’m apprehensive.
    • But, hey, at least there’s pumpkin bread.

     

    loaves of homemade pumpkin bread

  • Back to School

    Baguette is four. Today she started her second year in a 3-year-old room at her day care.

    In fact, she’s been in a 3-year-old room for close to 18 months already, because she moved into that group just before her third birthday. So why are we keeping her there?

    Because it’s the best solution for her, although we didn’t arrive at that in a straightforward way. If it weren’t for a screwup on my part, she’d be in pre-K today. But that wouldn’t be the best solution. It was a fortuitous screwup.

    Baguette’s day care has a re-enrollment system. Each year, in the spring, you pay a fee and file some forms to indicate that your child will be coming back in the fall. (My friends with children in similar centers find this surprising, but it’s how Baguette’s center does it. And, yes, I do think it’s weird considering that we paid a deposit up front when we first enrolled her four years ago, to cover her last month, but that’s how the center does it. Fine.)

    The director sent out the re-enrollment information, and I submitted the form and paid the fee. Later, she sent out a reminder, and I thought, “Should I confirm that I submitted everything? No, I know that I did.”

    Except I was wrong. I hadn’t sent them in. We learned this in June, when the director emailed me to ask if Baguette would be coming back in the fall, because there was no re-enrollment form for her. Oh, and all of the pre-K classes were filled, but we could be first on the waiting list.

    Cue discussion of how we’ve been there for four years; how we’d paid for a year of Friday pizza at the school fundraiser in the spring, and maybe that indicated an interest; and how the policy really makes no sense to begin with; and so forth.

    Also, cue panic. I sent off inquiries to a number of other day care centers, one of which we later toured. Mr. Sandwich and I each sent emails to the director to get clarification on our options. Finally–maybe a day later, but it felt longer–the three of us had a conference call.

    The director offered us a solution: One of the existing 3-year-old classes was very large, and was being split into two. While pre-K did not have any open spots, one of the new 3-year-old classes had room. Baguette already knows the teacher, who gets her and who she loves. The class, while still for a 3-year-old bracket, is a little more academic than the developmental class she’s been in for the past year and a half. So she’ll get new experiences and challenges, but in a more comfortable and familiar environment.

    Pre-K would not be as good a fit for her this year. The thing that stands out for me is that the children are required to sit still at a table and work in workbooks for 30 minutes at a time. And each week, they have homework.

    I don’t think 4-year-olds should do that, period. That’s not how they learn, and that’s not how they should be taught. But I really don’t want to ask that of Baguette. She loves to learn new things, and she has an amazing memory. She’s much better at listening and following instructions than she used to be. She should not be asked to sit still for that long so that she can complete worksheets.

    I also don’t think that they should be doing homework. At this age, they should be learning through play, and they should also just be playing. In Baguette’s case, she gets 10 hours of ABA at home each week–on top of the 15 hours per week she’s getting in the classroom. That’s enough homework. She’s doing enough.

    If I’d turned in that re-enrollment form when I meant to, she’d be in a pre-K classroom right now. And that would be wrong for her.

    I want my girl to be confident, to be capable, and to have the skills she’ll need to succeed in whatever way she chooses. She doesn’t need to be doing worksheets and homework this year in order to accomplish that.

    Next fall, she’ll be 5. She’ll be old enough for kindergarten. Will we have her go into pre-K instead? I don’t know. We’ll figure that out over the next year. And we’ll decide based on what seems best for her at that point. I have the feeling that this is going to be a big year for her. Without worksheets.

  • I’m Not Fine With It

    I am so tired. I’m tired of being told that I’m talking about the wrong thing. I’m tired of being told that I’m talking about it in the wrong way. I’m tired of having the subject changed.

    Remember how #YesAllWomen got #NotAllMen-ed? Because we couldn’t talk about what happens to us, and our perceptions of society and the world, without people insisting that their point of view was the one we really should be talking about. Well, that happens a lot, and it’s not limited to one topic.

    Earlier this week, I participated in an online discussion about female genital mutilation. Ten people participated. Three of us were women. One woman made a single comment; another made three or four. The discussion went on for more than 12 hours, and I was the only woman participating throughout. On its surface, it was for the most part a civil discussion.

    Only it wasn’t always about FGM. As seems to happen again and again in discussions about FGM, the topic of male circumcision was brought up, and once it was introduced, it refused to leave. When I had the temerity to suggest that maybe a new thread could be started for that, I was accused of acting like the discussion police. Because we wouldn’t want to miss the chance to stop talking about women.

    Yesterday, I came across an article about a new crowdfunding initiative for Miss Possible, a series of dolls “modeled after real women who’ve had path-breaking success in science, technology, space and information technology.”

    Nice idea, right? Sure, unless you consider, as one commenter did, “Why no emphasis on the lack of boys and men in HR environments, then? Where’s the effort to recruit boys to HR and other female dominated fields?” He then went on to say that this project will accomplish nothing, because society deems women to be successful when they marry (or partner, presumably), not when they are recognized in their careers of choice.

    You know how you get more men in HR? Pay HR more. Raise the salaries, and the men will come. That’s easy. But the idea that there might be value in getting more girls involved in STEM and related subjects? No. We will talk about men, and that is how it is.

    But I don’t want that to be how it is. I don’t want to keep people from talking about men and their issues. I just want not to be cut off when I talk about women’s issues. I just want not to be told that I should be accepting of that interruption.

    I don’t even want to include a link to #YesAllWomen, as I was planning to. I just went and did a search, and the hashtag is in use. But now it’s being used in ugly misogynist jokes, and I’m not going to help them get more traffic.

    Think about that for a minute. We can’t even have a hashtag. We’re not supposed to realize that if we’re being silenced, the discussion is inherently uncivil. We’re not supposed to talk in the first place. And we’re supposed to be fine with that.

    I’m not. I’m not.

    I’m not.

  • Why Baguette Has Her Own iPad, Part 3

    She started prying the keys off of the bluetooth keyboard on mine.
    She started prying the keys off of the bluetooth keyboard on mine.

    Part 1

    Part 2

  • Why Baguette Has Her Own iPad, Part 2

    She can use it to teach herself sign language.
    She can use it to teach herself sign language.

    Part 1

  • Why Baguette Has Her Own iPad, Part 1

    It spurs her speech, helps her expand her vocabulary, and reinforces sorting and matching skills.
    It spurs her speech, helps her expand her vocabulary, and reinforces sorting and matching skills.

  • Disruption Can Be Good

    We spent the last week visiting family out of town. For Baguette, routine is king–but this morning, I was reminded of why disruption can be good.

    The trip was great, and I’ll write more about it later. But it was also exhausting, because we were constantly on the move, seeing new places and spending time with people who Baguette doesn’t know all that well yet.

    Last night, after we got home, Baguette used more full sentences than we usually hear in a week. And they were new ones, like “Mommy, get the ball” (it had rolled under a piece of furniture) and “Mommy, I want green Play-Doh” (more typical is simply “Green Play-Doh”)

    This morning, she started reciting the alphabet. This is not unusual, but here’s what was: She was also signing it. All that time this week she spent playing with the Baby Sign and Sing app we’d bought her?

    She’s been teaching herself ASL.