Oh, Poop!

Youngest will only use the following phrase when she needs to eliminate:  "MOM, I NEEDA GO POOP."  As you read that, make sure you do it in your LOUD reading voice to fully understand the vigor with which she communicates.

Yesterday she yelled this to me from the living room, "MOM, I NEEDA GO POOP."  She had a dress on, so I said, equally vigorously, "OK, GO ON INTO THE BATHROOM AND GO POO-POO."

She said, "NO, MOM, I NEEDA GO POOP, NOT POO-POO, AND I NEEDA GO IN THE LIVING ROOM." 

I say, "NO, you can go to the bathoom honey.  Off you go." 

Next thing I know, there's a lot of grunting and straining coming from . . . the hallway. 

Time to investigate. 

 Here comes Youngest, huffing and puffing down the hall, CARRYING her potty, in order to GO POOP in the living room per her request.  That I denied. 

I say, "Honey, what are you doing?" 

She says, "Mooooommm, I REALLY wanna GO POOP in the living room.  I told you that two times already!" 

Montessori and its "kids are capable" stuff.  Really, sometimes it's just too much.  2 year olds moving toilets to eliminate in the location of their choice takes "kids are capable" to a whole new level, doesn't it? 

Got any good summer day stories of your own to share today? 

The "Tomato" Drill

My children had a tornado drill at school on Friday.  According to Youngest's teacher, it was "traumatic."   

Apparently, the mere word "drill" totally freaks out Youngest and one other little boy in class.  So a loud fire drill is hugely traumatic, but even a quiet "just walk into the hall and assume the position" tornado drill causes all kinds of wailing and nashing of the teeth on the part of Youngest. 

So Friday was a tornado drill and Youngest was so distraught that the Executive Director of the whole place took pity on her and sat down behind her while she was in "tornado position," rubbing her back and trying to calm her. 

Youngest (2) was so appreciative that when she went back into her classroom, she asked her teacher if she could "write a letter" to the Director.  So she scibbled blue marker all over a paper and then the teacher wrote this letter, as dictated by Youngest:

Dear Name of Director:
I really liked it when you rubbed my back during the tomato drill.  You made me feel very safe today.
Love,  Youngest

Melts a mommy's heart, doesn't it?

If you have kids, have you ever been at school on a drill day?  When I am, it brings me to tears, watching the reality of our trust in the place we take our children every day.  We don't just trust them to educate, we trust them with their very lives in case of emergency.  To see how seriously they take this charge is overwhelming to me from the parent perspective.  And to think about "what if the real thing" did occur, how important all of these Drill Days would become is just mind-boggling. 

So today is Teacher Appreciation Day at their school.  And I will thank them here (and there) for teaching our children many life skills, not just academics.  I am blessed this year that all of my children's teachers view their job as more than a job, but a true calling to help each and every child reach their full potential and I am grateful to their dedication and selflessness. 

Thank you, Teachers.

The Real Christmas Spirit

I've bellyached off and on this holiday season (more on than off, I suspect) about ungrateful children, too much to do and not enough time to appreciate the season for its true meaning. 

Last week, I saw a microcosm of the true Christmas spirit in my children.  You know, the ones who have been struggling (I'm practicing my nice words) with each other over, well, anything they can think of?   

Oldest spent the entire month learning Christmas songs on piano for one reason and one reason only.  To play them for her sister's class full of 2 and 3 year olds.  She was only there for 5 minutes, but it was 5 minutes of love and sharing that made this mommy a little weepy over their bond.

  Here are the pictures. 

The next day, of her own volition, Oldest decorated several cards to take to our local retirement community.  She visited there last year with her Brownie Troop (which didn't continue this year) and wanted to bring the residents some happiness. 

Two days in a row, I was blown away by Oldest's giving spirit. 

Then they got back to the basics in the car - arguing over who was talking during songs and who got to pick up Lilly first when we got home.  You'd never think these two were 5 years apart (and one of them 2, for goodness' sake!) with some of the verbal sparring they can muster.   But they are siblings, after all.  ;) 

So I'll take my victories where I can.

Stone Soup Feast

Youngest's class had the Annual Stone Soup Feast yesterday.  Everyone familiar with the story? 

I especially love the moral - "By working together, everyone contributing what they can, a greater good can be achieved." 

Youngest's teacher takes the theme of the story and asks everyone to bring a vegetable to class the day before the feast. That night she makes soup, stone and all, and serves it to her students and their families the next morning.

It's been 5 years since I partook in the Stone Soup Feast with Youngest's teacher.  The last time was when Oldest was 2 years old.  And truthfully, I thought it strange that the teacher was doing such an odd thing at 10am in the morning with her students.  I was so green, not in the environmental way, then. 

I didn't yet know that community, respect and greater good are all Montessori tenets. 

As the years have passed, I've learned a lot.  About Montessori, about the Stone Soup Feast (finally read it), about what we (as in our family) really, really want our children to learn about life. 

The first time around, I looked at Oldest's school time as a way for ME to get a break (I still do like that), as a way for the teacher to be completely impressed with Oldest like I was (typical first/only child issue I think many of us share, especially when they are very young - we want everyone to see how "perfect" they are).

I certainly didn't look at school as a way for children to become "whole," in the sense that they are thinking, caring, respectful self-starters, who are expected to be responsible for themselves and their actions.  Productive members of society in that they make the world a better place.

I thought the Feast was silly, then.  And looking around the room yesterday, I now see the profound and subtle way this teacher, year after year, trains her parents to be better parents.  How she plants the seeds in them that their children have so much more capacity than they ever thought possible.  Because, even at 2 years old, a child can start to learn that "by working together, everyone contributing what they can, a greater good can be achieved."

I've watched parents and their kids come and go from this particular classroom for 5 years now.  I wonder how many this teacher has successfully planted the seed in - the seed of community, rather than the current culture we find everywhere - the culture of ME. 

She's a special woman, this teacher.  She has changed the lives of so many children and their parents.  I don't know that she has any idea how far-reaching her influence has gone.  I hope that she does.  I am so thankful that she was MY first experience with a teacher, from the parent perspective.  Our entire parenting philosophy began its formation with what she taught us.  She deserves much greater recognition than this blog. 

And having Youngest in her classroom again after 5 years?  It's kinda like coming home. 


 

A Step in the Right Direction?

Monday, I was called to school unexpectedly.  I love it when the teacher starts by saying, "She's fine."  Because we know there's a "but X happened" coming when they begin that way, don't we? 

I haven't received a call since Kindergarten.  And while I'm not going to give the basis behind the call (I really DO have boundaries with this blog - swear!), I CAN talk about the emotions it brought out of me.

I expected her to be in a full meltdown.  I expected a litany of "I'm so stupids."  I expected to need to talk to the teacher about how to transition her back into class without major drama after we took care of our business.  I expected her to scream "LEAVE ME ALONE" at her sister who was VERY concerned about why we were going to school and wanting to give her a "feel better" hug.  So empathetic, that one.

What I got was a calm, collected, composed child who, truthfully?  I didn't really know how to handle.  I'd been bracing myself for every other time I'd ever had to come to school in years past and was completely blindsided by this kid I discovered.

Wonderfully blindsided.  Drop me to my knees and make me want to sob blindsided.  With relief that she self-regulated?  Disappointment that she didn't need me to kiss away her hurt?  Heartbreak over my baby growing up? 

Probably all of the above.  I know I say it a lot, but the day to day minutiae - so hard.  So UGH.  The major milestones of independence, though - heartwrenching to Moms everywhere, I bet. 

This particular one, though, it's stuck with me.  Because of the last 30 seconds of our visit.  My newly composed Big Girl kept it together until we finished our business.  Then I said "I'm proud of you - how about a hug before you go back?"  She replied, "Sure Mommy.  Can you give Lilly (our puppy) a hug for me too?"  And THAT'S when she started crying.  That's when my Little Girl peaked back through the Big Girl we found when we arrived. 

Oldest and I, we've been through so much in these 7 short years of her life.  So many times I am so exasperated with her I could just scream.  And I sometimes do.  But Monday, I wished for a moment or two that she still needed me as much as she used to.   

Being needed feels pretty good, you know.  Sometimes it's hard to remember that the whole point of raising your kids right is to achieve moments like these. 

Moments where they take another step away from you - toward independence. 

Super Sunday Series - Week 2 - "You know your child is gifted when . . . "

Last week in the Super Sunday Series, I gave you the broad overview of "gifted kid traits." 

This week I promised to delve into some of the traits.  Bring it home a little, humanize it. 

Let's start with asynchronous development.  To me, this is one of the biggest hallmarks of gifted children, these huge GAPS in abilities.  In A Parent's Guide to Gifted Children, the authors say "intelligence and knowledge are simply not the same as emotional maturity, understanding, or wisdom."  Guide, pg. 122.  Further, they break it down into three categories:

1. Emotional and intellectual maturity - where you "have the intellect of an older child, adolescent, or even an adult, but have age-appropriate emotional development.
2. Asynchrony of abilities - saying the "brighter the child, the more widespread her abilities . . . it is common for a young gifted child to be frustrated that her fingers will not do what her mind wants them to do. 
3. Interpersonal asynchrony - where the child "doesn't fit into the world around her."

Guide, pages, 122-123. 

Carol Fertig goes on to say the following about asynchronous development:

Asynchronous development is uneven development academically, physically, and/or emotionally.  A student might be a whiz kid at science, but can't throw a ball; or she may read years ahead of her classmates, but perform at grade level in math.

Raising a Gifted Child, Carol Fertig, Prufrock Press, 2009, pg. 32.  She also notes that asynchronous development is particularly difficult at the K-3 grade levels because these ages are not "mature enough for independent work."  Id. 

Maybe this is why many gifted programs don't start until 4th grade in elementary school?  Just a thought.

In our house, the biggest asynchrony we see is in the abilities, or #2 above.  Oldest couldn't write, at all, until between 4 and 5.  At school, she had mastered the alphabet and was starting on Easy Reader Books, but when she was asked to write her name, sometimes the tantrums she had would be so forceful that at minimum she would lose playground time - sometimes I got a call from school.  The teacher thought she was being stubborn - the truth was she just couldn't do it.  And that, as you gifted parents WELL know, is unacceptable to a gifted kid - it makes them self-destruct when they think they can't do something they should be able to do - especially at 4 when they don't yet have emotional maturity to handle it better, even if just a little bit. 

Her conferences are in two weeks. I'm cuirious to see how her math level and reading level compare. Last year, at mid-year, she was at 5th grade for reading and 1st grade for math. HUGE difference. I can't imagine if we had her in a public school, trying to get her language needs met, and I feel so much empathy for those of you who do have this struggle.


The other big one we see here is academic "age" being so much more advanced than emotional age.  Oldest, as I have mentioned, was completely computer proficient by age 4.  She could navigate her way through Google to "her" sites and get anywhere in any particular site she wanted - even before she could really read the stuff, she just had a good instinct with it. 

I completely take this for granted, by the way.  Two nights ago, she came to me crying in the middle of the night because she'd discovered a "movie so scary I can't even talk about it, Mommy" on the Kiki Strike website and it was haunting her at 3am.  I just assumed if she was reading Kiki Strike at school, then it wouldn't have "keep you awake" stuff at night on the website.  Because if something's on a site that she's allowed to go on, she will find it.  Period. 

Though she has all of these abilities, she has the emotional maturity of a 7 year old (sometimes younger, too, I suspect, depending on what's going on in our lives, time of year, etc).  Things she can handle reading because she can are not necessarily going to be things she can handle emotionally. 

And finally, "interpersonal asynchrony," where the child doesn't fit into the world around her.  We see this in certain venues - a club we belong to tends to be very rough for her in the summer.   She thinks very differently from the kids there and ends up in tears or fighting quite often.  She has no CLUE how to "play the game" socially.  And a lot of these kids, while nice, have a different level of Social Savvy that she doesn't have.

Her school environment is great for her - Montessori - it truly does have the potential to change the world, one child at a time.  Plus her fellow Suzuki kids tend to be on the same playing field as her.  It's amazing to see how seamlessly they blend together at the recitals when they don't even know each other - all age levels!  So different from other places we go where she doesn't know people. 

So this is asynchronous development and it's longer than I thought.  I'm going to save my other planned "stuff" for down the road. 

Next week?  Perfectionism, though I've been avoiding it because I'm afraid I won't get it right. 

Get it?  Avoiding doing something for fear of failure?  Perfectionism in a nutshell.  We'll talk about the positives and negatives of it next week. 

See you! 

Early IQ - Round 2

I'm not quite finished with my basis behind testing Oldest's IQ so young.  A very good friend of mine has a gifted son and I asked her one time whether she would feel better knowing his IQ? 

She replied, adamantly, "HELL NO!  If I knew it, I would never let him slack off a little or take a break.  I would always push him to what the IQ number was." 

She does have a point.  But for us, getting the testing done early gave us solace rather than a high bar with which to measure her. 

Our deepest, darkest fears were assuaged A LITTLE.  She was still extraordinarily emotionally exhausting, but we no longer wondered if:

1. It was our bad parenting.
2. There was something seriously emotionally wrong with her.  Look up Oppositional Defiance Disorder sometime if you never have - it's enough to make your hair curl and my heart goes out to anyone who is struggling through that.

I spent years thinking "if I only parent better, harder, more effectively, if I only read another book about childrearing, if I only retake the class on positive parenting again, if only, if only, if only."  The burden was overwhelming.  Because things that worked for virtually every other family we knew, didn't even register with Oldest.   

And to learn that it wasn't our parenting, but the cards she'd been dealt was so much better than the self blame.  Instead of choking on uncertainty, we could become experts in raising a gifted child and how to help her with her emotional intensity.  And she has learned to manage her emotions now so much better than she used to - because we are approaching it from the aspect of "what does a gifted child need in this area?"  And yes, sometimes a swift kick in the pants is still the answer!  Speaking figuratively, OF COURSE!  Though sometimes you do want to . . . at least those of us willing to admit we're human. 

So for us, it was never "OH MY GAWD, when we find out her IQ we know how hard to push her."  It was "OH, THANK GOD, we aren't complete parental neanderthals and now let's teach her how to best help herself."  It was so liberating. 

So there you have it.  IQ testing, not just for ascertaining academic potential, but for helping struggling parents ease their guilt burden, even if just a little bit.

IQ testing at 5? Are you kidding?

I guess by now it's time to share why we think our daughter is gifted.  Because everyone thinks their kid is gifted, right?  So what makes us so sure? 

We tested Oldest's IQ one month shy of her 5th birthday. We didn't really want to do this, but we were in a disagreement with her teacher over her behavioral challenges. It was a civil disagreement - she thought we needed to test for things like ADHD and Oppositional Defiance Disorder. Our sense was that she wasn't buying that our daughter might be acting out in class because she was/is highly intelligent and her needs weren't being met.  We weren't sure yet, either.  It was a terrifying, scary time.  Isn't not knowing always scarier?  I think so. 

So we did a full evaluation, including IQ. Because what the hell?  If the teacher wanted to learn about  the other stuff, I wasn't going to take any chances.  She tested well into gifted range and came up negative for other behavioral disorders.

She was then (and still is) at a Montessori school.

When I researched our public elementary school her Kindergarten year, the Principal virtually scoffed at the IQ numbers I gave him, saying they had to be inaccurate b/c of her age and told me that the GATE program (Gifted And Talented Enrichment) started in the 4th grade there (in other words, don't bother me with this until then was the message I received). Our school system is one of the best in our state, by the way.

In part because of his cavalier attitude toward her abilities, we decided to keep her at the Montessori school where she started at 2 1/2 years old. She started second grade two weeks ago, and ended first grade reading at a fifth grade level. Mathematically, she's right at grade level.  Which is so typical of a gifted kid - the asynchronous development. 

I shudder to think what challenges we would be facing in our public school right now, while not even yet eligible for the GATE program. She would be THAT KID (future post on our experience with that already coming soon to a blog near you).

We are happy she is at a Montessori school, which follows the philosophy of  "follow the child" and that every child should be allowed to work at their own pace and level, regardless of whether that level is the official grade level of the child's age.  Each child is treated as an individual, not just as a class that must cover certain requirements, whether they are ready for them or already learned them.