Get real!

 
   I've been thinking a lot about idioms lately. Idioms, not idiots. Although I do a fair amount of thinking about them too, and how they're always either in my way when we're late for school, or asking far dumber questions than should be allowed by law. (Despite what your teacher tells you, there is such a thing as a dumb question!) Idioms. They're funny little things. Amusing. I like to use them. I've touched before on how folks on the spectrum typically take things literally. It's said that they see the world in mostly black and white. So when they come up against an idiom, it must be pretty confusing! When you sheepishly say to your autistic child, after one of those idiot drivers cuts you off -and you let loose a string of rather rough words-  "excuse my French!", and she replies, "You weren't speaking French", well - you'll be doing some pretty quick back-peddling. I recall once telling Georgia that she'd gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. She very adamantly informed me that, NO, she'd gotten up on the RIGHT side. The "right side" being the "correct side", which is to say the same damn side she always got up on. Geez, mom, you're such an idiot! Oof. Idioms are torture.


"An idiom is a natural manner of speaking, to a native speaker of a language"

   Sarcasm is another form of torture we like to employ in our house. I used to think Georgia had been done a great disservice by being born into this family of smart-asses, with a passel of pun-loving, equally as smart-assy friends. But now I've come to believe it's been a blessing in disguise. Sometimes it's a blessing that's gone under deep cover, and only emerges at brief, impromptu intervals to give darkly veiled progress reports. Like a NARC disguised as a high school student, or Johnny Depp as Donnie Brasco. Nevertheless by being exposed to so much chaos, in our conversations as well as general household goings-on, Georgia has gained a fairly substantial grasp of idioms and sarcasm. She appears to be able to take that understanding with her out into the world. Her reading teacher, Mrs. Patrick, (I'll talk more about her in another post) phoned this morning to chat about what they're covering in class right now. She said she worried about joking with Georgia, like teasing about wanting to steal her snack, or saying "everyone can go to the pep rally except Georgia" -that she might take things the wrong way and become upset. So she is relieved when G just laughs, and dishes it right back to her. One day she was drawing something on the board relating to their story, and Georgia piped up and said "Wow, that is really terrible. You can't draw, can you?" And they all had a good-natured laugh over it. Mrs. Patrick told me "it wasn't said in a mean or disrespectful way, she was totally ribbing me. It was great!" She doesn't always get what we're saying, but she senses it isn't what we mean, so she'll ask "you are being sarcastic?", and we will clarify. Yes, yes we are.

    To make a contribution to the familial purse I work as a substitute teacher. (Because at the rate I paint, art is not going to support us. And also my subject matter might be a bit too dicey for normal peoples tastes.) I take it as a challenge to try to pick out the autistic kids in the class, before I read my schedule and find out who I need to pay special attention to. While it is true that people on the spectrum don't look any different than anyone else there is always *something* that gives them away, and I can spot them pretty quickly. Well, I AM tuned in to the little behaviors that most folks might overlook. There is such a wide range of spectrum kids in every single class. It's fascinating! I was subbing for an aide in a 4th grade classroom earlier this week, and the teacher was talking about bull sharks, so she decided to show a short cartoon about a shark that a little girl keeps as a pet. In her house. The shark prances around the living room on his caudal fin, dressed in a cheap knock-off of Tony Manero's white disco suit. One of the little boys I was in charge of, who is on the spectrum, raised his hand and very sincerely said "I thought sharks lived in the water?!". This little boy is really, really smart, yet he could not wrap his head around someone taking a shark home, and letting it sit on the sofa and eat popcorn. It simply isn't right! Georgia would have recognized this premise to be just plain silly, pure imagination - and she might have laughed- but she'd still have to state to you, and then to herself multiple times, "That is not really real!"

   Ultimately we all live in our own realities. Some of us just have wackier realities than others!

Speak for yourself!

  Georgia may be getting out of mic work today simply because I cannot string more than three words together without coughing up my spleen. I'm considering making up a turban soaked in Vicks VapoRub and wearing it EVERYWHERE until after flu season. I'd be like Professor Quirrell walking around with a smelly Voldemort on my head, only hopefully the VapoRub wouldn't be hissing orders at me to kill Harry Potter. After a few months of donning my odiferous headgear though, I imagine someone might want to do ME in!



  And speaking of things that don't smell quite right, I have only recently been made aware of some information that Autism Speaks isn't exactly the organization I believed it to be. (Shout-out to PDDWorld/Moms!) Now, this blog was never intended to be used as a forum for promoting, or bashing, any particular agency or therapy that might believe itself doing good deeds to further autism awareness, or improve the lives of those on the spectrum. But A.S. evidently has only just begun using the term "awareness", having been founded on the premise of "curing" autism by funding a ton of research to that end. They seem to be trying hard now to cover their tracks, as the autism community at large has called them on it. As I've seen on the Autism Self Advocacy Network site, ("Nothing about us, without us" http://autisticadvocacy.org/ ), it's not a cure they want, but acceptance. Being autistic is being themselves. This was echoed in an old NPR interview I dug up where a young man on the spectrum said "What the rest of the world needs to know about autism is that it's not something that can be separated out from the person, it's part of the person. And so you cannot meaningfully say I love my child, but I hate the autism. That's like saying I love my child, but I hate that she's a girl and I'd like her to be a boy instead." When asked if there were a cure for autism, would he take it, he answered "No. Never will. I love the way my brain works."


  On the A.S. site under "initiatives" they state "...In fact, many experts agree that a collaborative approach to autism research is the only way science will solve the mysteries of this devastating disorder." The definition of "devastating": 1) highly destructive or damaging. 2) causing severe shock, distress, or grief. The synonyms are destructive, and ruinous. You can see why someone on the spectrum might take exception to the A.S. approach. Now, the man in the NPR interview did state that he knows his life would be "easier without his Asperger's. He would understand social cues. He would get along better in work and everyday interactions." But he's "come to like being autistic. He even celebrates it." I know there are parents out there who might have felt shock, distress, or grief at first hearing a diagnosis of autism, but that doesn't mean the child's life, or the family unit ends in a ruinous state. For me the diagnosis was just validation, and then it was time to keep seeking out therapies which could help Georgia unlock all of her potential. I am not a shout-in-the-streets activist. I just quietly go about my business. So if Autism Speaks is shouting for a cure for autism, I will shout back in the form of not funding their research.

   A friend of mine with an Aspie son told me "You know the saying, 'If you've met one kid with autism, you've met one kid with autism.'" I do not claim to know all there is to know about autism, or every intricate detail of every advocacy group. I've done enough research to know that I don't know half of what's out there! What I do know is my child. I do know that, even though I want to help her overcome her learning problems, I do not want to help her overcome who she is at her core. She's silly, and goofy, and funny. She talks incessantly, (and obsessively!) on the way home from school. But sometimes she says the most amazing things! Yeah, sometimes she's a pain-in-the-ass, (Yep. I said it out loud.), but I usually put most of that down to being a teenager. The autism thing I can handle. This teen thing? OY VEY.

                                                                                 

                                                                         
                                                                     

                                                                       

Wheeling and dealing

 
   I've gotten fairly adept at cutting deals with Georgia for just about anything. And she's picked up my talent for it pretty well. I'm hoping the devil isn't keeping tabs, as I would not enjoy being offered a training position in his fiery corporation. Besides, I know quite a number of people who would be way better suited for the job than me. And anyway, I abhor that kind of heat! Yes, I am aware that I live in the deep South, but contrary to popular belief, it is not *typically* hotter-than-hell here. Well, with the exception of the month of August.

   Thursday afternoon I made a deal with Georgia that we could skip mic work, if she promised to make up for it on Sunday. After all, I was anxious to meet up with my LWDC peeps later (Liberal Women's Drinking Club. Whether you're a liberal, or you just drink that way, we welcome you!), I'd had a really long, tiring day of wrangling second graders, and frankly still had a cough and sore throat.(Have I mentioned I'm also good at rationalizing just about anything?) Geo hemmed a bit, then agreed, and we shook on it- but with a dangerously impish twinkle in her eyes. I said "You think I'm gonna forget by Sunday, don't you?!" I don't know how or why, but somewhere along the way I've managed to instill in my children the concrete certainty that Mommy will always forget things she is supposed to remember. Important things. They are convinced that I will forget to show up to retrieve them from school, or sign an important life-or-death form, or - heaven forbid- WASH THEIR SCHOOL CLOTHES. I honestly can't recall an event that would have imprinted this fear so indelibly on their little brains, and so I've decided to just blame it on my father-in-law, who actually DID forget to pick them up from school one time. Not my fault!          

   You will be relieved to know that I did not forget our Pact Of Procrastination! After letting Georgia have an entire morning of uninterrupted screen-time, I called to her that it was time for our mic work. She did not go quietly, but I could tell that her whole heart wasn't in the whine, and she was cracking a smile. We got right down to business. This was a difficult lesson, but she did such a great job! We went over that pesky "tion" ending, Me: Holds up card: "This is the word 'mention'. The 't-i-o-n' says 'shun'...." Georgia: Blank stare: "HUH?!" Me: "What part says 'men'?" Georgia: "m-e-n". Me: "What part says 'shun'?" Georgia: "s-h-u-n?!" Me: "No, sweetie, remember the 't-i-o-n' says 'shun'. Georgia: Looks at me like I'm insane. Me: Thinks: "Oh, yeah, this is the ever-confusing, always ridiculous English language!!" Honestly, who came up with these rules? I WAS impressed she could distinguish the sounds though, and spelled it like she HEARD IT. She did eventually catch on, after ten more words ending in "tion", and we kept our cool for the most part. The reading passage in this lesson was more challenging, and she was irritated that she had to spell so many words, but she gained a little more confidence once she read a bit from her chapter book. It's always nice when we can end a session on a positive note!

   Only two and a half more weeks of school until the Christmas break. I know because Georgia obsessively goes over this information with me every day. I'll do my best to keep on track with our Stowell work over the holiday, and Georgia will do her best to help me forget!

 

There will be a quiz on this later

  I  thought it would be a good time to give a refresher course on a few things related to this blog. Namely: why I do it. Get your pencils sharpened and poised to take notes, and - as always- I believe it's good to grab a snack before travelling into my Blogdom. (That's sort of like a kingdom, only it's the realm of my blog. Although I can't say I really rule it. It's more like a puppet monarchy.)

                                                               
   This blog started so that I could keep folks informed of the wild adventures my youngest daughter and I were encountering at the Stowell Learning Center in California. I took her there in order that she might be helped to overcome her many, varied, and unusual learning delays. But aside from her learning issues, Georgia is also somewhere on the autism spectrum. Her diagnosis is considered to be PDD-NOS, which is an acronym for Pervasive Developmental Disorder-Not Otherwise Specified. Sounds pretty vague, right? Here is a link to a great definition on the Autism Speaks site: http://www.autismspeaks.org/what-autism/pdd-nos  If you don't follow that link, and read the page, you will fail the quiz later. OK, not really. If you don't read it, at least read the following paragraph that I've lifted right from the site on a description of three subgroups of PDD-NOS:

    "More helpful, perhaps, are studies suggesting that persons with PDD-NOS can be placed in one of three very different subgroups:

• A high-functioning group (around 25 percent) whose symptoms largely overlap with that of Asperger syndrome, but who differ in terms of having a lag in language development and mild cognitive impairment. (Asperger syndrome does not generally involve speech delay or cognitive impairment).

• A second group (around 25 percent) whose symptoms more closely resemble those of autistic disorder, but do not fully meet all its diagnostic signs and symptoms.

• A third group (around 50 percent) who meet all the diagnostic criteria for autistic disorder, but whose stereotypical and repetitive behaviors are noticeably mild.

As these findings suggest, individuals with PDD-NOS vary widely in their strengths and challenges."

  Georgia most definitely falls into the first category. I will admit to daydreaming at times, imagining her without all of her learning issues, the language delay, and have decided that she would probably be considered an Aspie! That wouldn't be so bad, huh? I mean, if ya gotta be on the spectrum.....

.....and that leads me to report that I recently stumbled upon a terrific resource for families with loved ones on the spectrum! It's billed as "the official social network and resource guide for Autism Speaks". It's like Facebook, but just for ASD folks! It's called My Autism Team. Go check it out: http://www.myautismteam.com/  As I've perused the site, I've seen many people lament that their extended family members just do not "get" autism, or their child's weird behaviors. We've been pretty lucky  in that regard. It has taken some folks a bit longer to "get it", but most all of our family, and friends are understanding and incredibly supportive!

  So.Over the course of the last 10 months I've talked about the ups and downs Georgia and I (and really the whole family) have gone through with our Stowell work, and life with a special-needs kid in general. I've never been on a quest to cure my child of autism. In fact I regard any treatment, therapy, or program which claims a *cure* to be nothing more than a snake oil salesman. (With apologies to any snake oil salesmen in the audience!) I do believe that with certain therapies you can help lesson your child's more troubling (or troublesome) behaviors. This can help tremendously with their self esteem, and with easing tension at home and school. But they are always going to be autistic. Georgia will always be Georgia! But I DO hope to *cure* her of dyslexia, and help her language to evolve to a higher level. And to that end, we will keep plugging along with our Stowell programs, and I'll keep dragging you all along with us! One of these days - I promise - I will try to covertly video tape Georgia reading, and post it here. One of these days - I hope - she will let me candidly video tape her reading because she's just so dang proud of herself!

...Abby-something....Abby Normal!

   Our eldest daughter Emily, who will be twenty next week, read and wrote her first word at age two. ("HOT". I still have that slip of paper....somewhere!) She began reading in earnest at age four. So when we sent her off to an all-day preschool program at our little neighborhood Catholic school, we knew she would do just fine. One evening while waiting in the hallway with the other parents for our parent-teacher conference, we all mingled and admired the artwork and writings taped to the walls. The kids had all been instructed to write the same sentence about a school bus, and then do a drawing of a bus to accompany the writing. Their names were on the back of the papers, but I knew instantly which one was Emily's, because I knew her handwriting and drawing styles. One mother noticed that a particular little writer/artist was far advanced of the others, and she said "I wonder who did THIS one?", so she peeled back the corner to reveal Emily's name. Then she turned to look at me, with a rather accusing eye, and said "Oh, you must REALLY work with her, huh?" I said "Um, no. She's just.....like that". There were some other comments by a few more parents, mainly discussion about developmental levels, and by the time we were all walking into the classroom this mom glanced over to me and said, "Huh. Well, I'm just glad my kid's normal!"

  Now, I know you aren't supposed to hold on to negative things like that, but I have never forgotten her words, or the way she said them, or her face when she uttered them. I especially think about them when I'm worried over issues with Georgia, so you can imagine I've been hearing that phrase in my head ALOT lately. Most of you might say "Oh, but what really is 'normal' anyway? NOBODY is 'normal'!" And this may be true. And I am glad of it. But I like to think of "normal" as being zero on a number line (hahaha, look at me using a math analogy! *cough*), and zero is, well, BORING. So what if my kids are -50 and 45,46?! That just means they are infinitely more interesting than normal, boring, stuck-in-the-middle zero! So although there are definitely days when I am feeling low, and wishing that Georgia could be just like her sisters, I hear those words in my head and think "Nope. My kids are awesome just as they are." We are all individuals, and my three girls all learn in very individual ways. They are UNIQUE!



   And as it happens, we discovered at our IEP meeting this morning that there is a "track" we were not aware of which is an option for *unique* kids like Georgia who don't quite fit the mold of our modern educational system. We let the team know that getting her diploma was a secondary concern. It's more important that Georgia keep moving forward at a pace which allows her to build functional skills, to be confident, to enjoy school. And then we heard the words "Graduation Certificate". Magical words. This will essentially let us pick and choose which classes will benefit Georgia, and allow whatever accommodations we need for her. (yes, BUFFET STYLE) It is not a diploma track. No, she will not get any credit towards a High School diploma. But she will be able to "graduate" with her regular class, to walk across the stage, and that is something that will be important to her. When and if we think she is ready to get a GED, then we might pursue that course. In changing to the certificate program, she will be in regular classes, but with the work modified. Her teachers will help highlight only the things they feel she really needs. She will participate in a program that helps teach basic life skills! AND, she'll be part of a group who go to lunch together and eat with typical-functioning kids to model appropriate social interactions. We plan to present these changes to her tonight. Or, as Brad says "Now we gotta sell it to Georgia!" Her schedule will change (AHHH NOT CHANGE!), but it will be for the better.

  But maybe most importantly, our homework load will lighten considerably. Which means we will have time for our Stowell work in the afternoons!!! Georgia's IEP will have to be totally rewritten, so we will meet with the team again next week to finalize and sign all the papers. And even though legally they aren't supposed to implement the changes, everyone has agreed to proceed with her new schedule as if it were a done deal. The relief I feel cannot be measured.

  I'm climbing out of that tiny, dark metal box now, and MAN is it bright out here!

Tightrope Walking

  HOLY MACKEREL what a month. The school year is underway, and we are caught in an undertow. Well, maybe it's more kin to a rip current! The jump from Middle School to High School for a student such as Georgia is like trying to leap across the Grand Canyon. You might get a few feet out from the ledge, but then you plummet straight down like an overweight, drunk Wallenda on a dare. The work load is nearly insurmountable to Georgia, and we're barely keeping her together.

  Here in Baldwin County, in the Great State of Alabama, kids must choose one of several "diploma track options". Our High School offers an IB (International Baccalaureate) track, Honors track, A/P track, Standard track, (insert another track here, haven't found out what it's labeled), and Occupational track. What they advised us at our end-of-year IEP (Individualized Education Plan) meeting was to start on the Standard track, because "you can always move down a track, but you can't move up." Since our two older girls went IB, we had absolutely NO IDEA what the Standard track entailed. But we thought "Hey, she'll have her aide, and she'll be in inclusion classes, so how bad can things be?" Uh.....bad. I'm convinced that her IEP coordinator (who is also her Lit. teacher) didn't even glance at the report from Stowell. I'm beginning to wonder if she even really thoroughly read her IEP! The pace of these "inclusion" classes is so fast that it's no wonder the drop-out rate is so high. (34% in Baldwin County last time I checked) There doesn't seem to be any concern on the part of the teachers whether the kids are getting the information or not, they just keep moving on. I understand there are standards that have to be met, material that MUST be covered in a certain time frame. But MY KID can't keep up with that time frame, and I'm certain there are others who would be considered normally functioning kids who are getting lost in the shuffle.

  In addition to her high-stress, fast-paced school day, we are spending three or four hours a night on homework, and skipping our Stowell work because of it. (I handle work for Science, Lit & the "7 Habits of a Successful Student" classes. Brad tackles math.)This is NOT productive, nor is it beneficial to Georgia in any way. When we sit down to do homework I start to feel like I've been put into a very dark, very small, metal box where every time I try to yell "THIS ISN'T WORKING", all I get is my own voice echoing back on me. No one seems to hear me! Except Brad, 'cause the lid to my box is slightly ajar so that I can gulp some oxygen occasionally. We need to fix this, to slow the pace for her, extend the time frame, to be HEARD.

  So Brad and I began mulling over, discussing, hashing out ideas on how to slow things down so that Georgia has the time she needs to actually ABSORB and process all of this information being thrown at her. We agreed that continuing with our Stowell work is the most important thing. When Brad said "How important is it that she get her diploma in 4 years?", it was like an ephiphany. Oh, my goodness. What a radical, AWESOME thought! By law she could stay in school until the age of 21. I can't imagine letting her do that, but if we look at it that way it certainly buys her more time. While chatting with several of her former Resource teachers in the last few weeks, one of them suggested "Why can't she just take TWO classes per semester, instead of four? Or have her spread out something like Algebra over the whole year?" So if we determine that getting her diploma in 4 years (or at all) is not a priority, can't we just pick and choose her classes and work load? Sort of buffet-style education!

  Of course another road to follow would be homeschooling. I have to admit that when Brad and I started delving into that idea, I initially felt lost. Then when I imagined days of setting our own schedule, doing the Stowell work every day, going over a subject until Georgia "got it"...I felt so peaceful. THINK OF IT! Days of NOT STRESSING about getting homework in on time, of NOT cramming for a test on material you barely comprehend that you end up failing anyway. A very appealing thought indeed.

  We've finally gotten a meeting set up for tomorrow morning, so all of our concerns - and ideas on how to deal with them - can be discussed. If, for whatever reason, we can't *personalize* her plan more, and keep her in the public school system, then we'll be looking into what it will take to pull her out. Or...I don't want to say we may be looking for a lawyer....but....

Nurse Ratched on the job!

I had a remarkable conversation last week at Lowe's Home Improvement with the young guy who came to help me figure out which lamp to buy to hang over Georgia's work desk. I explained the purpose of the lamp: that I am setting up a space to do work with my daughter, "she's got some struggles!". He nodded knowingly and said "Oh, yeah, I hear ya. My son and my nephew have some issues of their own!" That, of course, started me asking questions. Shocking, right? I'm like my mother in that I can strike up an in-depth conversation with pretty much anyone, anywhere. But, I'm also like my dad in that the oddest people seem to seek me out and talk to me. I have to do some quick assessments sometimes "Hmm, this could either turn out fun, or scary..." As it happens, my Lowe's assistant has two sons: a 6 year old in Kindergarten who is super-smart, on ADHD meds, but still struggling; and a 3 year old who is exhibiting anger for which they can find no reason. His nephew is 8, and severely autistic. He helps care for him several days a week. This guy looked SO young, but he is very obviously committed to doing right by his kids. I gave him some ideas of therapies and school programs to look into. When he described to me some of the odd behaviors his 6 year old was exhibiting on the meds, (hearing bees buzzing around his head!) it was my turn to nod knowingly. I told him Georgia had the same thing happen to her on Concerta. His eyes opened really wide, his jaw dropped, and he said almost breathlessly "I thought I was crazy! I thought my son was crazy! I've never had anyone else tell me that they had that same thing happen!" I felt like my head would explode with all of the information I wanted to impart! But it just wasn't the time or place. I was worried his boss would give him a hard time for talking with me for too long. I wondered about getting a resource packet together for him and bringing it back up to Lowe's. Maybe I will!

Our second week of Distance Learning went pretty well. Liz gave us another "step" to add: The AST Language portion. This involves using picture cards, and essentially talking or telling a story about each picture. It's covering a lot of ground: auditory processing, expressive and receptive language, visual organization, and sensory input. This is all done on the mic, along with a Samonas CD on headphones. Georgia has a really hard time blending certain sounds together. "S" is particularly difficult. She'll often leave off the beginning OR the end of a word with "S". When she was little it was kind of cute. She'd ask for a "nack" instead of "snack", that kind of thing. But at age 14, it's a bit of problem. It makes her sound so much younger, and people will glance sort of sideways at us with a look that says "What is *wrong* with that kid?" As we're going along in this lesson though, she's doing a lot more self-correction. With a prompt of "what's that *little* word we're looking for...?" ("is") She'll say "IZZZZZ!" She also just seems a lot more chatty, and personable, and not nearly as sensitive to sounds or touch. Progress. Slowly but surely.

I'm letting Geosie off the hook for mic work today, since she woke up with a stomach bug. You know, I try to be a compassionate mother. It's a little challenging for me though, since I grew up with a nurse mother and doctor father. If you weren't running a fever, didn't have any bones sticking out, and weren't having *obvious* convulsions, the standard response to illness was "Go to school! You'll feel better!" I've commiserated with other Adult Children of Medical Professionals, and they corroborate my story. I used to think school nurses must have some sort of mutated compassion gene, since they seem to exhibit a higher degree of benevolence toward sick children. But then, there is that pesky modern policy of not sending your kid to school until they've been fever and vomit-free for at least 24 hours. So maybe it's not so much a greater degree of empathy, just fear of the policy-makers that compels them to phone me when my child complains of a movable, mystery stomachache. In fact, I do remember the school nurses back in the day didn't readily call home. They tried to handle things first. They'd tell you to lie down on one of the cots with the crisp white sheets, and turn the lights low, then bustle out on their squeaky shoes to smoke a cigarette in the other room while you rested. Twenty minutes usually did the trick, (long enough to miss the quiz you forgot to study for) and then it was back to class. Ahhh, the good old days before smoking bans and the frenzied War On Bacteria! Still, I'll keep Miss G home tomorrow. If I pump her up with soup, I'm sure I can get at least *some* work out of her!

Candy cigarettes and Xanax

After getting Georgia off to a good start back at school, and a new routine, she came down with nasty cold. I kept her home Thursday and Friday, but all was not a total loss. We were actually able to complete all of our lesson plans. It made me briefly consider just keeping her home for the remainder of the year, but I know she would miss school, and she desperately needs that socialization. And we'd also probably both go bonkers after a few weeks.

I'm getting more and more familiar with the lessons, and how to conduct them. We're now three weeks into this learning adventure, and if there's one thing I've gleaned from all of these lessons it's that the English language is a bitch! It's a wonder anyone learns to speak it or write it at all. Really! Right now we're trying to get Georgia to hear, and identify vowel combinations correctly: short and long vowel sounds & what they look like, and their variations: oe, ee, oo, o_e, i_e, aw, au, .... you get the picture. Well, I skipped ahead to see what was down the road for us, and found a laminated "AST-Reading Multisyllable Guidelines" chart. HOLY MACKEREL. So after I've got her to recognize one set of rules, I basically have to tell her "Now that you've finally got those pesky little devils down, TOSS THE BUGGERS OUT!"

On Friday I began feeling like "WOW, I think I may really be able to pull this off!". But then Georgia will start to give me some attitude, and I start to get frustrated. Things have not totally unraveled yet, though. I've managed to keep my cool. But I had to kind of let her have it this morning after a particularly annoying whine-fest. In a stern, but level-headed voice (and today "level-headed" is substituting for the word "demented"), I told her I am not here to torture her, and I understand she wants to be doing other things, but this is important work. Trust me, there are a million other things I could think of I'd rather be doing. Especially when it takes up weekend time. But under no circumstances am I letting up, giving in, or aiding and abetting her ESCAPE! (cue maniacal laugh) Bribes have been instituted, and she received her first on Friday. An M&M's Candy Fan. It got me to musing about inventing a candy chill pill and marketing it to stressed-out parents. Then my mind wandered to visions of the hate mail I'd find in my inbox from the anti-drug task-forcers. Yeah, they'd pound me for sure. I mean can you even FIND candy cigarettes anymore?! But really- who are we kidding..... the *best* parental "chill pill" is Xanax.

Cakes of Llama crowd!

First day back at school = success! I had one happy girl get in the car yesterday afternoon. There were a few bumps in the day, but overall I consider it moving in the right direction. Went in for a quick meeting with Kelly, Georgia's IEP coordinator. Geo and her aide came in and joined us. It was actually good that she was there, so  Kelly could kind of back me up, and let Geo know that Mom isn't the only one who is counting on her to cooperate with all of these programs. She basically told her "I KNOW you like to have your nice, neat, set schedule. But you knew when you came back that the schedule would change so that you can fit these programs in. So do like Rafiki says in Lion King and put it in the past! It's time to move on!" Georgia thought it was pretty funny when Kelly said she'd go get a big stick if she had to, and bonk her on the nose like Simba. We worked out that I'll go up to school during her study hall hour and work on PATH reading and AST stuff. Might even be able to fit in some of the Core work.

I was reading through the instruction booklet for Samonas sound therapy, and read that over the course of this 20 week program the student should really be on a "sound diet". Not a "sound diet" as in a "good, solid diet of healthy food", but taking a break from too much extraneous NOISE. This is a difficult area for us, since Georgia is a computer and t.v. addict. And our house always seems to be "on". I thought she did well today without too much fussing when I told her we were limiting her viewing/listening time. Weekends will be harder to deal with, so we'll have to figure out how to get her out of the house. Maybe tossing her iPad into the yard and locking the door.

We've been noticing small, but nice changes with Georgia. Like tonight when we all lumped on the couches and turned on the American Idol auditions. (A guilty pleasure. Sue me. We don't like the *actual* show, just the audition part!) Our family loves (and I mean  LOVES) to play with words and their meanings. This can sometimes be a great aggravation to Georgia, as you can imagine. Per our family M.O. we proceeded to mock commercials, accents of Idol contestants, and each other. We find great satisfaction in "mis-hearing" what is being said, twisting it, and making it into something else entirely. OK, maybe I find more satisfaction than anyone else. One of my all-time favorite language morphing exercises: Maggie was stranded in the bathroom without a toilet paper refill. She shouted out to me in the kitchen "MOOOOM-MEEEE! I'M OUT OF TOILET PAPERRRRRR!" To which I replied: "WHAAAAT? YOU'RE STUCK IN THE ELEVATOR??!!" It went on like this, with me shouting back various ludicrous possibilities of what she might actually be saying. She was not amused. *I* thought it was hilarious. This is what we were doing to some of the t.v. ads tonight, and Georgia totally got it! She laughed! And a few times she repeated it to herself. After one doozie, where she did a short chuckle, I asked her "Do you get that?" And she grinned and said "Yes." and explained WHY it was a funny play on words. *sigh* Makes a Mamma proud. WHAAAAAT?? Cakes of Llama crowd?!

The smeller is the feller!

We are finally back home! It was an adventurous day of travelling. As we scanned our boarding passes, and headed down the ramp for our flight from Chino to Dallas, I was hailed back by the Keepers of The Gate to place my bag in the "overhead luggage simulator" to see if it would fit on the plane. I guess I didn't do as good a job packing this time (sorry, Ma!) because they said it appeared "too thick". As I lifted and shoved, it just made a sickening "thunk" sound and was stopped by that maddening metal frame. After trying and failing to rearrange things to make my bag skinnier, I finally threw up my hands and said "FINE, check it!". This upset Georgia greatly. She just didn't understand HOW they would get my bag back to me in Biloxi. It really did make things easier, though, not having to manhandle my bag AND Georgia's down those impossibly narrow aisles. It was bad enough that she kept whapping people in the head with her backpack as she ambled along. I'm pretty sure I made apologies to every person in a "B" seat from rows 1-20. There were a few I really should send "get well" notes to.

We eventually made it to our seats- almost all the way at the back of the plane. I reached up and tried to move the air nozzle toward the aisle, but the thing wouldn't budge. It stayed shooting directly at the top of my head, like Chinese water torture, the rest of the flight. Sitting in the back near the bathrooms on an airplane isn't really an ideal location. Especially when flying with someone who is so sensitive to smells. And also doesn't have a good grasp on social conventions. Like knowing not to say aloud what everyone else in a room is vigorously trying to ignore. After we'd all been served drinks, there was a constant stream of people heading to the toilets. One dapper gentleman was cuttin' one loose all the way down the aisle, and as the smell wafted over to Georgia she said (and by "said" I mean "yelled"...voice modulation and all that) "P.U. MOMMY! DID YOU FART?!?" I gave her the violent head-shake-while-scowling look that says (or should say) "BE QUIET! GOODLORDICAN'TBELIEVEYOUSAIDTHATOUT-LOUD!" Too late. It was out there.

On our second flight from Dallas to Gulfport-Biloxi our seats were to be one behind the other, but the young gal in Georgia's row graciously offered to switch with me when she saw the situation. (SO sweet!) Georgia was very relieved! We stowed our stuff. I reached up to adjust the air nozzle. Just the briefest of wrestling matches with *that* one. It relented- but at the expense of my thumbnail. The captain turned on the "fasten seat belt" and "no smoking" signs, so I tapped Georgia on the arm, pointed upward and said "Look, Georgia, you've GOT to put out that cigarette now!" She laughed SO hard. It was very gratifying.(Yeah, I'm really liking the Un-medicated Georgia a lot!) Ever the rule-follower, Geo snapped to attention when our flight attendant came on to give the safety spiel. She dutifully got her Safety Instruction booklet out of the chair pocket in front of her, and followed along as best she could, thoroughly studying the illustrations.

It was just such a wonderful sight to see Brad, Emily and Maggie waiting for us at the end of the day! Geo ran and hugged both of her sisters right away. Something that she normally would not do. She was all smiles and giggles. The ride home was really fun. It amazed me to hear her actually participating in the conversations. Things kind of fell apart at bedtime, though. I guess it was to be expected after an incredibly long day. She was really resistant to doing her Samonas listening, but after some struggle she finally caved and did it. The phrase "Oh, God, what have I gotten myself into?!?!" has attempted to creep to the edge of my pool of consciousness and dive in - but I keep telling it to "GET BACK!". We'll get started on our "new" schedule tomorrow. Wish me luck!

Superfund, or SuperFUN?

Simply stupendous day today! After only a smidgen of grumpiness directed toward me, Georgia got down to business. She worked especially hard, but also seemed to be in a much jollier mood. (In fact she got the giggles quite often!) I wondered if that had to do with her starting the p.m. listening track of Samonas last night, and that she slept in longer than usual. Hard to believe tomorrow is our last day at the center. What started out as a seemingly endless journey is wrapping up. Well, this two week journey is wrapping up. We still have several months stretching ahead of us in which to carry out these 4 programs. (I thought we were just doing 3 at one time, turns out it's 4) We'll be working with the Samonas Sound Therapy; PATH to Read; Core Learning Systems, and Auditory Stimulation Therapy. (Which really can be broken down into about 3 programs. AST- Language; AST- Spelling; AST -Reading). I'll have to do some pretty creative packing, since we will be hauling some sound equipment home with us. I'm thinking my ratty black clogs may just have to find their way to the Chino garbage dump. But - my mama did teach me to pack efficiently, (ROLL EVERYTHING UP TIGHT LIKE A CIGAR!), so we should be fine!

We're hoping to be able to come back in the summer, as Jill would like to reevaluate Georgia, and train me in the next programs. I'll scout out the area for any other "extended stay"-type places though. Not that this hotel was so horrible, but they've been doing renovations to the floor above us and at 7 in the A.M. the workers (who are all apparently staying AT THE HOTEL) start running floor grinders, fans, and God-knows-what-else right over our heads. It's similar noise to what I experienced while on a five day stay in the hospital during The Maggie Pregnancy. I swear they were using jackhammers up there! And then there's the small factor of it being jammed between the 71 freeway and what appears to be several desolate chunks of land up for Superfund site status.

mmmmmm....chipmunk.....

We had a really long day today. But it was productive! Things started out a bit rough when Geo tried to kick me while I watched her work with Elena. I've talked with Jill and Liz about G's attitude, and they've said that THEY will sit down with her on Friday and have a heart-to-heart. Liz has offered herself as "the bad guy" when I'm trying to get Georgia to do things she just doesn't want to do. Jill worked a lot with Georgia this afternoon, and had me do some lessons while she observed. We found out our Distance Learning Coordinator will in fact be LIZ! YAY! We'll meet Friday afternoon to talk about what equipment they'll be sending us home with, and how to use it. Technology is not my friend, but I feel better knowing I'll have support peeps!

Like I said, it was a productive day. Georgia got a movie pass last week for filling up one sticker reward sheet, and since she filled in TWO more today she earned a second pass. I let her decide on the flick, because they were her tickets. Her film choice was payback. But I have to say, Alvin and  the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked is a must-see for any over-stressed parent needing a few zzzzz's. Although  - I may have missed a few critical plot twists while "resting my eyes" sometime after the Chipmunks and Chipettes became stranded on a desert isle, engaged in mango-chasing hijinx, and then began rowing for their lives on an Alvin-made raft away from an erupting volcano. I'm not sure why "Chipwrecked" is in the title, being a play on the word "Shipwrecked", because they were not actually stranded by a wrecked ship. Their Carnival Cruise Ship (product placement is everything) merely sailed away from them after they flew overboard on a kite. No matter! Georgia enjoyed it immensely, even elbowing me once during a particularly sweet scene between....uh....a Chipmunk and....uh... another Chipmunk. (I've just *got* to learn their names. *cough*) Have I already said it was a long day?

Time to whip up some supper. Mac-n-cheese and chicken fingers! Mmmm. (I'm not sure how Georgia can be hungry after snarfing a six-dollar bag of popcorn though!) Emily sent me a picture of their meal back at home: Portabella caps stuffed with marinara, ricotta, parmesan and spinach. I think I may have to "rest my eyes" while consuming my Stouffer's, and envision portabella caps instead.

flotsam and jetsam and brains, OH, MY!

Only a few days left of our stay in Chino. I've been watching what Georgia is doing, what the teachers and therapists are doing, reading the materials, asking questions. An old friend is interested in how we're dealing with Georgia's proprioceptive issues, (her sense of where she *is* in space) and what the current research is. First, a nifty definition of proprioception:
 Proprioception ( /ˌproʊpri.ɵˈsɛpʃən/ pro-pree-o-sep-shən), from Latin proprius, meaning "one's own" and perception, is the sense of the relative position of neighbouring parts of the body and strength of effort being employed in movement.^[1] It is distinguished from exteroception, by which we perceive the outside world, and interoception, by which we perceive pain, hunger, etc., and the movement of internal organs.
Along with the Samonas Sound Therapy, we're following a program of Core Learning Skills Training, which is a "series of physical balance and movement activities designed to improve visual skills, internal organization, coordination, self-awareness, self-control, and attention". Georgia has retained primitive reflexes and underdeveloped visual and motor skills which cause interference. It's thought that these Core exercises will work to eliminate that interference, thus allowing her to develop an understanding of space and time, which is "critical for developing attention awareness, and control and organization skills." A few of her exercises: The Starfish - she sits on the edge of a chair, leans back, drops her head over the back of the chair while extending her arms and legs, keeping her torso straight...like a starfish. This is incredibly hard for her to do, because of her retained Moro reflex. Something that most of us wouldn't even have to think about to be able to do it. She looks completely uncomfortable and off-balance! Another: The Robot - she lies flat on her back, arms loosely at her side, legs just a bit apart as she lifts one arm straight up, then brings it down and *gently* taps the mat twice. Then lifts the corresponding leg, brings it down and gently taps twice. It continues around clockwise, then counterclockwise three times each. THEN, she has to mix it up by doing left leg, right arm etc. There are others, but hopefully you get the picture! As far as what "current" research is saying, here are some links to a few articles I found: http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2004/02/040220074652.htm
http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2005/05/050513103548.htm

It's a daunting task ahead of us when we get home, but we'll have plenty of support via our distance-learning teacher.We'll be working on 3 programs simultaneously, trying to carve out 2 hours each day to fit in all of the activities. But it has to be done. No question.

We're not sure yet who our distance teacher will be, but I'm hoping for Liz! She has the BEST voice, and she didn't get all freaked out when I told her what it is I paint. Liz actually seemed to brighten up, asked if I had a website instead of getting that glazed, faraway look like most people do when I tell them I paint brains (and lungs, and intestines, and uteruses...or uteri...I had this debate with Margaret, now I can't remember how it turned out!), and wanted details of my subject matter. I told her "Alot of people say 'Oh, doctor's offices would LOVE your stuff'', but who wants to be sitting in a waiting room, anxious about your diagnosis, staring at a freaky brain floating around with a bunch of flotsam and jetsam bumping into it!" She gave a big laugh, and concurred!

Waltzing Matild.....Georgia!

So after spending the entire day sitting in with Georgia while she worked at Stowell, I've pretty much determined one thing: She works her butt off. Now that isn't to say it was all happy, rosy and sunshine. First of all she was NOT happy to have me there. Which I fully expected, but still felt slightly.....slighted. All of the teachers who worked with her were so great, though, and told her (gently) in no uncertain terms that Mom *had* to be there to learn too. It appears that the "core" work is what is going to be hardest for Georgia, and Jill said if time became a factor, we should definitely just leave out some other things and focus on the core. This is a series of physical exercises which will address balance, sensory input and body awareness among a host of other things. Research has apparently determined that folks with dyslexia have never integrated certain reflexes from infancy, which causes a lack of physical control (a sort of constant static that the dyslexic is dealing with on a certain level) that takes up their energy and focus, leaving no energy for higher level functions. Georgia has always, ALWAYS had problems with coordination, knowing where she "is" in space, voice modulation....the list goes on.

I chatted a little more with the 10th grade girl who has befriended Georgia. She told me that she worked for 12 weeks, took a 2 week break, and was now on another 12 week course at the center. I asked her if she felt that she had improved alot, and she said "Oh, yeah. Before I was reading on like a kindergarten level, and I've gone all the way up to a 6th grade level!" You could tell she was so proud of herself, and confident.

Georgia and I talked this afternoon on our way back from getting a few groceries. I told her how much work this is going to take, but that we are ALL willing to put the time in if she is willing. She seemed pretty cool with it! I guess I'm looking at this as a kind of 12 Step program for waltzing dyslexics. We'll just put one foot in front of the other, live one day at a time, and see where we end up.

SOCAL So Cool

What a whirlwind weekend we had! Georgia put in 5 hours at the learning center on Saturday, and then we hopped in the rental and wound our way south to San Diego, to the truly one-of-a-kind home of the Albagdadi-Roberts clan. Louisiana transplants Talal and Robin, and 12 year old daughter Ella greeted us with open arms, as they stashed the cleaning supplies, and tossed the stage-design models from the guest bed. We were absolutely privileged to be able to bunk in Robin's design studio! Their 19"teens" bungalow is an architectural wonder, having been "modernized" by the previous owner sometime in the 1950's. (I don't care what Robin says, I ADORE their kitchen countertops!) I only wish the guy had left the original river stone fireplace intact. Tragic, that. After getting a tour of the digs, we headed out to a terrific little burger joint. It was a pretty hip, happening place! But the sight of hipsters with babies made me squirm. (as I know Emily would have done as well!) After downing a rather obscenely large amount of garlic fries and red meat, we sauntered across the street to a row of groovy shops hawking retro wares. We digested while we knocked about, rummaging through ancient fur coats and a few pairs of lusciously soft, orange leather 1950's ladies heels. From Nordstrom no less. Size 6. Darn! (sorry Maggie and Emily!) Back at the house, we lounged around on the couch and caught up, gossiped,(yeah, we were talking about *YOU*) and finally began yawning. As we turned in I drifted off with the sound of the furnace kicking on, and thoughts of Community Dark Roast waiting in the morning. You can take us out of Louisiana....but you can't NEVER drain the Community Dark Roast from our veins!

Sunday morning we had a lovely breakfast in the back garden, then headed out to OB (Ocean Beach) and the oh-so-cool home of the sagacious Christina Low and Noelle Perini. Chrissy is another crony from my LSU days, who used to ride us around campus smoking camels in her ancient Karmaan Ghia. (I loved that car.) She moved to CA and became a non-smoking, Subaru-driving, half-marathoner. Go figure. We walked down to the Pacific ocean from their bungalow, took off our shoes, wandered down to the pier while dodging enormous, freaky, completely astounding strands of giant kelp. There were a few tide pools to be investigated,  with anemone and sea glass bits swooshing around as waves washed over them. We collected some interesting specimens, and then headed back to clean up and find lunch. I just have two words for you: Calamari. Taco. Oh, and a third: Delish. After downing our tacos in a quiet little park in University Heights, Robin made good on her promise to get us to the World Famous San Diego Zoo! Georgia grabbed a map, and set off. Her one *must-see*? The elephants. Our path was set for Africa, but when we got there, all the pachyderms had been unceremoniously parked in their cages so the keepers could fill up the hay troughs! Undeterred, we found a couple of enormous concrete elephants who were willing to take some staged photos with us. Next up: the sky gondola! Georgia was incredibly excited about riding the swinging car of death back to the entrance, where we made a round of the petting zoo, and then hit up the gift shop. Leaving the animals behind, we drove out to South Park and snagged some ice cream at The Daily Scoop. Mmmm. It was time to hit the road back to Chino after that. We loaded up our bags, and Robin being the good mom she is, mapped out a better route than the one we rode in on, and packed us some snacks for the trip.

Intentions to post this last night went by the wayside. Sleep took over. Georgia slept really well, and didn't wake up until nearly 7:00! It was so great for us to take that mini-vacation. She got some needed fresh air and exercise, and I got some fun adult conversation! I did notice that Georgia seemed to struggle more than usual with her word-retrieval. It could have just been that she was in an unfamiliar situation. I'll talk to Jill about that today. This promises to be a week jam-packed with information, but I'll try to pass on what I can each day before passing out!
Peace~

"Polyester" and "Comfort" just shouldn't be used in the same sentence

I had no intention of waking up early, but since Georgia is usually up by 5:30, I was only able to stay buried under the polyester comforter for about another hour. After hoisting myself up and getting the coffee brewing, I zapped on the tee vee. I'm finding the local L.A. news stations to be quite amusing. Especially weather reports. The saucy weather girl on the NBC station keeps telling me about some ocean-related stat that I think is only relevant to surfers. No matter how hard I try to listen, I can not decipher what it is she's saying. It's a completely foreign word! We don't get many surfers on the Gulf coast, so really I can't be blamed. Another local L.A. news phenomenon: a report on how the porn film industry is all up-in-arms over some new tax they're going to be assessed. Not really a top story in Coastal Alabama. The anchorman didn't even try to disguise it as "The Adult Film Industry", it was just "Porn", right out there for all to see. Which I guess is how they operate really, isn't it? It's all just out there. I hit the "mute" button before I got too many questions.

Georgia had a good day despite displaying some *attitude* with me. She's grumpy after lunch about having to go back to the center, but once she's done it's all smiles. I've only briefly observed her sessions this week. They really wanted to get to know her first without mom hanging about. This is usually best for Georgia as well. Next week though- I've warned her - I will be required to sit in and learn all of the tortuous methods we'll be needing to take back home with us. They've told me they're seeing improvement in her visual memory already! She read some from a Frog and Toad book this afternoon, but she didn't want to read it once I was there. It's just going to take time. I've got loads of that.

We're considering venturing out to see a movie tonight. Although it is usually pretty difficult to get Georgia back out once she's ensconced in the room. And to be honest, my bottle of screw-cap wine is looking pretty darn tempting right about now! I think I'll kick back, turn on the local news, and see what harrowing stories they have to entertain me with this evening....

Meatloaf chunks and Swiss Dot

Another lovely, crisp morning greeted us, followed by another round of clothing-choice battles. "Mommy, can I wear what I wore yesterday?" "No." "BUTWHYNOT?!?! I WANT TO WEAR WHAT I WORE YESTERDAY!" "It's just not what people do, Georgia." Which isn't entirely true, I know, but c'mon. Besides, Georgia is not known for her dainty eating habits, nor for necessarily using a napkin. I didn't want to risk walking in the door of the learning center only to discover a hunk of meatloaf defiantly clinging to the back of her shirt. What would these people *think* of ME?! This attitude goes way back. I've never forgotten when I was on bed rest while pregnant with Maggie (who is now 16) and Brad had to take care of getting Emily dressed and off to her Mother's Day Out program. He let her wear the same pink Swiss Dot dress and black patent leather shoes 3 days in a row. OY! What was a mother to do? Not much from where I was lounging, except shake my head as a tiny tear of mortification hit my pillow. Georgia relented, as I had done yesterday over the Crocs, and wore a different outfit. She even put on clean socks of her own accord!

We made it to the center right on time, sans meatloaf chunks, and got started with the PATH reading therapy program. It's pretty freaky stuff- designed by Dr. Teri Lawton, a fascinating neurobiologist who is reportedly beyond brilliant, to the point that everyday folks like me would have a really difficult time having an everyday conversation with her. PATH is a computer-based program that uses shades of grey lines moving in various directions, in which the student must hit arrow keys indicating which direction the lines are moving. I'm sure I'm not giving it the description that Dr. Lawton would prefer, but like I said - "everyday folks" and all. Here is a link to the hand-out Jill gave me: http://www.pathtoreading.com/images/PATHProdSum.pdf  Please read it! It's thoroughly fascinating! Part of our fee to the center paid for the licensing rights, so it's now on my computer, and we will continue to work with it once we're back home.

I told you about the Samonas listening therapy yesterday, designed by Ingo Steinbach. Again- someone so brilliant, regular people just can't relate. He's also German, so I suppose if you don't speak German, it's a double-whammy. Here's the link to a description: http://www.listening-ears.com/samonas.html  We also paid for licensing rights for this program, so we will be getting all of the CDs as we need them. And they threw in a really groovy pair of specially designed headphones too! The portable Sony CD player was not included, so we borrowed one from the center yesterday. I wandered off to Wal Mart while Geo was working at the center this morning and bought our own Sony Walkman. (which is a completely different creature from the Sony Walkman I received on my 17th birthday.) I EVEN remembered to buy batteries. What I didn't consider was how the hell I'd open the hermetically sealed plastic package once I got it back to the hotel. You will be happy- and relieved- to know that while I did momentarily entertain the thought of using our one "sharp" knife (it's serrated with a rounded tip) to saw my way into the Walkman, my better judgment took over, (which was really just visions of my hacked-off hand creating a blood stain on the carpet, much like the one in the hallway by the elevator), and I trotted downstairs to the front desk to borrow a pair of scissors. Problem solved, and 911 call averted!

It is now time to unwind for the day. Georgia is looking forward to noshing on some microwave popcorn while watching a Barbie movie. I'd better supervise said microwave, since it only wants to work on "Dinner Plate" mode, which is 3 minutes longer than popcorn cares to be popped.

Marvelous pigs in satin

My fears of Jill telling us "sorry" have been put to rest. She is beyond excited about the possibilities that are ahead for Georgia! Nothing too surprising came out of the testing, it was really what we expected. Georgia's auditory skills did test lower than I thought, but it is not anything that Jill thinks cannot be helped. For those of you not familiar with what the Stowell Learning center does, here is a link to the website: http://www.learningdisability.com/   I would have written a brief synopsis myself, but it would not have been brief.

This morning we woke up to a really lovely sunrise hitting the mountains outside our window. There was only a small debate about what to wear. Georgia insists on shuffling around in these ratty, electric blue Crocs that belonged to her sister about a million years ago. *shivers* I bought her some cool looking slip-on's before we left, so of course she refuses to wear them. I relented, deciding to fight other battles instead, so we headed in to the center at 9, and got started with the Samonas listening therapy right away. Samonas is a similar program to ILS, but works at a bit higher frequency for longer periods of time. Another young lady came in while we were there, a Chino 10th grader who has nearly the same profile as Georgia. They took their break together, played some games, and seemed to hit it off right away. It's always good for Geo to have a peer to connect with! Jill told me that this gal comes to the center for 6 hours a day, 4 days a week. I can't remember how long she's been working at it, but she is now at a point where she is beyond needing her special ed classes, but not *quite* ready for regular classroom yet. You have no idea how tremendously exciting it is to hear that, and to be able to imagine it for Georgia. She worked SO HARD this morning, and at one point Jill came to tell me "I wish I could keep her! I WANT to keep her!" I was surprised when Georgia rounded a corner, saw me at a workspace, and said "I need a hug!" Has she ever said that?? EVER??!!

We're on a lunch break right now, back at the hotel after hunting down Trader Joe's to pick up something "fun" for lunch. Cheap sushi is my idea of fun lunch, ready-made meatloaf is Georgia's. (I didn't tell her it's turkey!) And I found a nice bottle of screw cap pinot grigio. Not "Two Buck Chuck" but pretty darn close! I wanted to tell the check-out lady "Don't worry, I won't be crackin' it open til later!" but I'm not sure she'd have believed me - I discovered once we were back in the car that a strategic button on my blouse had popped open. I wondered why she kept giving me an odd look. I thought maybe I'd accidentally said "Y'all".

There's another session at the center from 2-4, and Georgia has to do 15 minutes of listening before we head back, so I'll sign off with my favorite line from the Glowworm in James and the Giant Peach: "Did he say 'Marvelous pigs in satin?'" If you know me, you will understand. ;D

Peace