Accepting and Understanding Autism

My husband began to suspect before I did that our daughter may have it. I, being such the experienced teacher that I was ( ha!) thought that all kids acted that way sometimes. Furthermore all kids develop at their own place. Then came the talking issue. She had a vocabulary at age 2 of about 20 or so words.  I guess that was not enough. I still did not see my daughter as different from the rest. I was still excusing and going with the "wait and see" approach. Finally we had her "officially evaluated" by a linguistic.  She gave us results and stated that she most probably has autism.

Again, I was in denial. I remember the follow up meeting with the language lady. "That's a pretty strong conclusion after just meeting with my daughter for just one hours time." I said.
"I think I am more right than I am wrong." she said.  I walked away wanting to prove her wrong. Awhile later we had her evaluated officially by the guru of autism in these parts. This doctor was impressive, knowledgeable, personable, -pretty much the only doctor that could tell me the heartbreaking news  "Your daughter has autism." 
"Okay, okay," I said with tears "So we'll aim for the Temple Grandin kind"
"Oh," he said "I think her social ceiling could be higher than that - sky is the limit."
I hear these words from him over and over again. In a way, I am encouraged and then there a setbacks and I am reminded- she has autism.

I understand she has autism. But I fight it at times. I observe kids all day long. Considering the humongous size of the spectrum, I am probably on it and you too.  When I consider the symptoms which were indicative of my daughter  being diagnosed autistic, I often think of the number of times of I have seen the same symptoms in the typical child. Consider :

Eye contact- I know that a principal I had for many years, once told me to make better eye contact with my classroom parents. I notice my students look off into the distance whenever they are speaking to me. And how many times did your mother say to you- Please look at them and say "hello".

Sensory needs- In this day in age there is so much at us. Lights, action, noises, all at speed faster than light. It's no wonder we need our nature music - you know the kind you might hear in a massage parlor. I see kids each day needing to touch, move, and needing step by step visual direction in order or concentrate and relax.

Socialization and play-these things did not and still do not come naturally for my daughter and with her brother acting as Congressman want to be - it is sometimes a real stick out for her. Yet, is is the complaint of many teachers and parents, that kids need to play and need play practice. Because it does not come naturally anymore. They know the ropes of the video game but they can't invent their own kick the can. Socially, the young child needs to do the same things - say hello using a person's name, take turns, follow through with a sequence of play, and carry on an actual conversation related to the play scheme.

But the reality is my daughter is not typical. She is out of the box. More so than others I guess. Because there is no normal out there is there? If there is than what is normal? For me as a mom of a not so typical child, life goes from "pretty smooth and count my blessings" to "couldn't I just go  the zoo and have a good time without a child crawling up my legs or see the Nutcracker all the way through without a girl on my lap plugging her ears or walk into Lowes without dragging a heavy weight into the store or be able to go to the car wash with her in the car because I just need to get it done... ?   For me we go to therapy to learn how to process and control sensory input, carry on a relevant conversation, use connected language, play, and move safely and meaningfully in this world. For me, I story all the time- about things I would care NOT to story about. For me I coach on the sidelines of play all the time. For me my food bible is Jessica Seinfeld. ( and that is a huge surprise for me- I wanted my kids eating Armenian and Greek food by now)

The acceptance and understanding is that with God all things will work out for good and all things are possible.  (A little paraphrase from Romans and Matthew) She has autism. With that come all the predictions and what ifs. Accepting is not easy because I am still learning to understand. Life of three steps forward and one step back. A lesson learned. A challenge before me. Autism. A life of understanding it and accepting it all in one day.

Now I understand

My memory recalls this day at  Elementary school as a sunny day. It was early spring and we were picking dandelions at recess. A bunch of us girls were pretending we were at a wedding and each one of us was a flower girl. Along came a boy who I will call Bobby. He walked funny, talked funny, and pretty much was the social outcast. I don't remember that he had a friend in the world. We as girls were afraid of him. He was unpredictable. This day was the day we decided to conquer our fear I guess. Bobby approached us making kissing noises and said "What do we have here- lovely little girls." He came closer making kissing noises and we screamed. Then one threw dandelions at him. Others joined in. He fell to the ground. One even smooshed the yellow from the dandelion on his face. He was helpless. It was a memory that haunts me because it was one of the times (and there were others too I, being a sinner, ) where I was in on treating someone with cruelty. After some time of this, his dad, who lived in the school's backyard,  came up and shouted at us. "Stop that you girls". He picked Bobby up from the ground. Bobby hugged his dad and they walked away. The girls and I stood in silence. I don't know what others were thinking. But I knew that he just wanted friends like the rest of us.

Bobby had struggles making friends. He was the first quirky boy that no one knew what do to with. The teachers sometimes took his quirkiness for misbehavior. He had no social graces that we all just happened to know. He was a puzzle to many.

Fast forward and I am teaching a first grade class. There is a girl in my class similar to Bobby from way back. She is also very dramatic, energetic, and crushed when something wasn't like it routinely should be. I will call her Rose. Rose was new to our school. She loved learning and was essentially very smart. Her mother was kind and nurturing. Her dad was stern and cold on the outside but underneath the prickles he was very loving and nurturing as well. No one really labeled or diagnosed her - at least I was not aware. I remember feeling impatient with her and even struggling to "like" her at times. My inexperience was not helping her situation. I did make her Goldilocks in our class play and she enjoyed it. I did read books with her one on one. I did reward her for accomplishments. But that seems like small potatoes now.

I have a teacher friend who was close enough to me to sing at my wedding and be with me in the ER to see the heart beat and first ultrasound of my first child because my husband was away. She has a son with autism. For years, when we taught together, she told me stories of struggle and trial and joy and success and starting all over with that again as her son grew up. I listened and did my best to encourage.

Autism was something I knew about only really through my friend. Little did everyone else know about it. Except the experts who were mostly in my mind,  parents of those with autism.  But more and more of the unusual type were becoming common. Now I hear a statistic that one in 88 have autism.

 Now, it all comes together. All those children who were not in the square that I knew of in childhood and as my own students, likely had autism. I was on the outside of that world looking in and wondering. Now, I am on the inside. where my own child has autism. My first child, a girl, and born when I was two years shy of 40. I have a child who could one day be the dandelion victim - but won't be if I can help. I have the child who would gladly star in Goldilocks and the Three Bears. I have a child who has sensory issues, meltdowns, social quirks, and language work to do. My child is not typical.

Bobby, now I understand that you were still learning to interact socially with others in appropriate ways. You needed support and help not isolation and ridicule. Rose, now I understand that you needed the security of the same thing all the time even if it meant me feeling like a Robot. Friend, now I understand your tears when your son was struggling or hit a wall and your rejoicing at the victories he made. Now I understand, more of what I need to do to help my daughter, whom I have high hopes for despite this thing called autism which I am just beginning to now understand.

Reflections on Writing for Children

When I was as young as six or seven years old, I would go into my room, lie on a pink fluffy rug, and with pens and pencils and stacks of paper in hand, I would write the greatest children's story ever written. I wrote poems, about the color pink, adventures of a girl who discovered a world behind a bookcase, toys that talked, and a little family called the Tootles. I would spend hours writing. I loved every minute of it. Time stood still as I was not aware of it. I had literally climbed into another world. The stories I invented after experiencing and loving other stories, brought me to a wonderful place of goodness, creativity, and fun. Time was only interrupted when my two "charming" brothers as they liked to call themselves, would barge in grab my work of art from my hand and make fun of my writing. Little did I know that was what the real world of  being published would be like.

  I moved from that to third grade creative writing class. Where Mrs. B had the best writing topics for us each Wednesday.  I still have those stories. They are yellow and need to be in sheet protectors. But Mrs. B's red pen comments say things like - very nice description or Very good writing. Her positive endorsement was a true sign that I was going to be a writer someday.

My first "ready for submission" story  was written back in college. It was called One, Two, Three, Bread Magic. Some of you readers out there have read it. All the labor of the "first edition" was so enjoyable. Seeking out a publisher wasn't so much. Having someone from my critique group rip it to shreds wasn't so much either. Since then I have hidden in a world several times where I felt freedom to write from my schema. I have to admit the stories got much better since the Bread Magic One.

Just as I am known as teacher, mom and wife, I also like to be known as writer of  childern's stories. Yet I am not published. I have made submissions to several publishers. But I have several rejections. Not as many as Madeline L'Engle- who said she had been rejected at least 50 times before her award winning Wrinkle in Time was published or accepted into the reading world.  I am near halfway there in my collection of rejections.

The world is changing and I am ever so mindful of it. The media influence, the fast pace, the sensory overload, the lack of play and imagination, all influence my thinking of what would kinds of stories would be likable to a child. Would a reader in third grade read my TV Bug  and learn a  lesson? Would a first grade think my Custodian and the Ducklings was funny? Would someone cry or feel a  heart tug when they read Grandmother's Melody? I want to hope so but my qualm is that these kinds of stories are dear only those in the Dinosaur Circle.

Dinosaurs are not just those who feel so ancient because they can remember back when dirt was invented and how they used to wear fig leaves.  They are those that feel in the minority almost to the point of being endangered. In a writer's circle it is those who just appreciate a rich story told.  I do feel a part of this dinosaur circle when it comes to writing for children. I tend to take time to go "deep" when I write, Let my heart ache a little, and labor. The words flow but I get stuck. So it is easy but hard. I want to tell the story just right. Its gotta be rich with words not fluffy and trite. Getting a good story out there in the world - on paper, does have it satisfaction. It's like a captured memory forever there. If someone else could be touched in some way by the story that too is satisfying.  The recognition through publication would be an added bonus. But also the idea that many could appreciate it would be an accomplishment simply for making some difference in this troublesome world.

I won't put myself in the shoes of a children's literature critic and analyze the low quality of  some recently published stories. But it is extremely frustrating that the books that sell are those that have a gimmick attached. The kind that go with a movie, a television show, rock song, a toy,- a book that says to the child- gimme that one as they go through the phase of princesses or Transformers. And those gimmick stories do not last the test of time. The next year there is a new trend and a new kind of gimme. There's also the stories written by celebrities. You don't have to be a writer to be published if you are a celebrity.  Some of  those stories seem "cute" and even heart warming. But well written and quality? A memorable story that stays with you forever? Maybe if it was personally autographed.

I do weigh my stories against those I admire. Oh the richness of stories like Chrysantheum or anything Kevin Henkes. Thundercake or Fireflies in  jar or anything Patricia Pollaco. A true story teller that woman! What about Jenelle Cannon who makes the ugly things of this world so beautiful with her rich language. Stellaluna- Crickwig- Verde. Oh to be accepted and remembered  as they are!
There are classics that I remember as read aloud experiences that have influenced me as I longed to write. Sylvester and the Magic Pebble, Bread and Jam for Frances, Harry the Dirty Dog, One Fine Day, The Little Engine that Could. - are some. This is my world of story that I draw from in order to write.

And as a teacher, I need those good mentor texts. I want my work to be just that. One that could be a good example of some trait of writing that needs to be taught. One that can be used to teach a great reading strategy and aide in comprehension. I want my story to be needed in the learning and development in the child's reading and writing. Debbie Miller, a reading guru, and Katie Wood Ray, a teaching writing to children guru, both say how important it is for us as teachers to introduce the kids to quality literature. Our validation speaks well and has an influence. Pretty much if my work was endorsed by either of those - I could be all set with my dream.

It has been awhile since I have sat down and actually written a new story. It may be about time. I will get to it when I do have the time.  But what to do with all the others that have been written and are sitting, resting, and collecting dust.

Thanks for reading this writing.

Early Childhood Report Card

It is come to the time where I as a teacher must complete twenty report cards.  I have never been at a loss for words to provide my insight into a child's progress. There is so much personality and development going on in these early years. At this time I am struck by the remarkable way kids grow and change.

Before I complete one card on one of my students. I will vent by writing my own report of the progress of Early Childhood. Currently how are we as parents, teachers, friends, family, doing to support the Early Child? Do we allow them to be kids? Are they confident as they "grow up? Are we applying Developmentally Appropriate Practices that is learning opportunities that match the development of the child?

Here are a few prefaces. First, I am not an Early Childhood Specialist. I don't even have a degree in Early Childhood. What's more I have only been a mom for nearly six years. I am no doctor either.  My experience- mainly just teaching kids mainly in those Early childhood years.  I won't even bore readers with theories of Piaget or Erickson. I  shall simply give my two cents.

One more preface. I write and offer my opinion. Many I know will totally disagree with me. I appologize for striking a bad cord.

Currently our school report card has various benchmarks in the various subject areas. My benchmark areas for the Early Childhood Report Card are Social, Emotional, Cognitive, Fine Motor,  and Gross Motor Development. I am considering the practices of today and do they help develop a confident child in these areas?  Every area counts. Not one more important over the other but all just as equally important in a child's development.

Social Development: I give us a D or a rating of experiencing difficulty. Yeah, we allow our kids to socialize.  The practice has been that it starts with play dates but all too quickly it evolves into activities such as dance, karate, soccer, chess, basketball, mad science, hockey- I am sure there are several others to add to the list. When I was younger- age 6 or so, I was in Busy Bees. We met at a neighborhood house and did various projects- similiar to Girl Scouts.  One thing that was it. Because the rest of the time I was playing libary, school, grocery store, making forts, or making cakes on the Easy Bake Oven with Suzie or Heidi. My play time was sacred and that in itself allowed me to grow socially.
D because the play time is being taken away and there is no time for it because there is a schedule of activities to meet. At soccer and dance, you socialize and have fun. And when you are home - you are too tired to have a round of marbles or kick the can, so you are off to the Wii or whatever it is called. ( We do not own one nor do we intend too) D because playtime should be the main part of the Early Child's life not a supplement or an after thought.

Emotional Development: This area gets a rating of C-. The self assurance and character of a child depends much on their emotional state.This is ignored. We push ahead or forward without considering the state of the child's emotions and their ability to handle certain situations. These days situations happen earlier than later. Ear piercing begins not at 16 when I had mine done but as early as infancy. OUCH! Okay maybe for some its a cultural thing.

Peer pressure comes immediately to mind not just can they deal with someone daring them to jump off the top of a slide on the playground either. The next thing that comes to mind is tears, tantrums, and meltdowns. This ranges from what happens if their ice cream cone top falls and melts to what happens if they get laughed at for wearing clothes that clash. But also can they handle a spelling test in first grade?  How about leaving  you- the parent  for a bus ride to school for the whole entire day and then coming back on the bus? My Thanks to Miss Terry who found me asleep on the bus upon coming home from school one day and missed my bus stop for home - maybe I was in first grade??? No Thanks to my older Brother who was supposed to look out for me when he got off the bus. Or How about can the child handle not getting their way, or taking turns, or  things not going just right?

We all too easily think our kids can handle something that they are just not ready to handle. Therefore, no spiderman for my almost four year old. He is too sensitive. He can't decipher yet what is real or imaginary. ( And the way movies are these days- I don't think I can handle it without turning every light on in the house after watching....)
Therefore, no painting plates at the mudroom for my daughter. Too dainty and meticulous. At five, it's not about being dainty- it is about being dramatic and exploratory.
C- because on average I think we provide some experiences too soon they have had a chance to grow more secure in themselves.

Motor skills: We do allow for physical activity for developing gross motor skills. I mean there is a lot of karate and hockey playing and football going on. Those structured activities do provide some good development. But I give the gross motor a B- because we need to pay attention to the build and size of their bodies. We need to provide the exercise that they can handle to develop gross motor wise. Let them run, climb, skip, hop, swing, etc. Then when they weigh 50-60 pounds and can handle all of that and be tackled- okay- football it is! Exercise kind of play much needed over the structured sports in the early child. 
Fine motor wise- Does the working of an I-pad or WII remote control count? How many of us have our kids do the old fashioned cutting, gluing, or sewing card? I am a little stumped on this one as far as a grade.. I do think kids would be better fine motor wise if they colored, drew, wrote, scissor cut, sewed, knitted, whatever -more than operating a remote control whatever. Tough in these day of the Jetsons to actually make our fingers work.

Cognitive: I could get on a real soap box here. If  I really spilled the beans on my thoughts, I may have to go into the witness protection program. I would not give our practice an A. Maybe another B minus. Some of this is not our fault. Curriculum has been pushed down and we are forced to teach things that are not right for the age we teach. Yet it is our fault when we expect something over the head of the young child. It is our fault when we forget - hey they are just kids right now. It is important to weigh activities as appropriate or not. Worksheet or drama center? Play dough or color by number? Singing or Sentence Dictation. Spider in the Web or Tackle Football? Reading groups or just lets look at books right now? Two digit addition or working with higher sets of manipulatives?

All and all we aren't doing too well in our Developmentally Appropriate Practices. I know I have room for improvement. In this fast society there is a hurry up mentality. Hurry up and Grow! Suggestions are to take one day at a time with our children. We shouldn't be afraid to use the phrase- you need to wait until you are older. "

My son has been very interested in jungles lately. All the animal life in the jungle is especially interesting to him. He asked one day- "Can we visit the jungle sometime?'
I said "yes, when you are older."
 He understood why. I happened to have visited the jungle for the first time at age 36- when I was really grown up and ready. I even went zip lining. Not sure I would do it again. I think I actually prayed I would make it out alive. The jungle was sure adventurous. We even saw the fresh footprint of a jaguar. It was a jungle! The real thing.  Our son is counting the days until he can go to the jungle. But at four years old- He must wait until he is older.

Much like this world- it is a jungle out there- give it time for them to grow and develop- decide what they can or can't handle. Age appropriate activities are so key!
We cannot afford to lose their childhood. If we take that away from them by giving them experiences too soon or opportunities that are not age appropriate then, we are ridding them of crucial learning to be more confident, creative, and independent.
Thanks for reading!

Christmas rush to Christmas hush- Mary and pondering

All the events leading and during the time of Christ's birth were both exciting, troublesome, and horrific.  Heaven opened up and sent God's son. There were angels filling the sky and appearing personally to Joseph, Mary, and the Shepherds. There was an amazing star. There were three wise men bringing very expensive gifts to the Christ Child. There were a herd of shepherds who wanted to see. The stable was crowded and stinky and animals were all around. Some say the animals may have talked that night. The bothersome journey to Bethlehem was long and hard especially with a pregnant woman.A jealous King Herod murdered all babies two years and under to eliminate the threat of the King of Kings . All a part of God's plan of how things should be for the coming of a Savior.

Mary had her hush when she treasured up all of these things and pondered them in her heart. It says this twice in Luke. The first one is after the shepherded told people and they were in shear wonderment. Mary treasured these events up and pondered them in her heart. It doesn't say she went and told her best girlfriend. It says she pondered and treasured. The second time it says just about the very same phrase it is after Jesus, as a boy went into the temple to teach and his parents could not find Him. This part is not easily remembered, but Mary again, treasured up these things and pondered them in her heart.

As the earthly Mother of Jesus, perhaps she was writing things down after meditating on them. Perhaps gave Luke some hints as to how to record all of these things so that others even in 2012 might believe. She took time for the hush. The pause and the time of reflection on all that had happened and what it all meant for the world was important.

My real hush comes now the day after Christmas Day. I don't have to really get up and do something out of necessity. There is no deadline or schedule today. I did much forging and creating and just plain work over the past month all for Christmas. I enjoyed it but lost sleep. I have some few hushes and pauses here and there to help slow time down and try to get something new and meaningful out of THIS Christmas. But the activities and even sometimes the "fun" of Christmas diminishes the hush and makes time speed on until next Christmas where you start all over again. So my hush was delayed until now.

During my ponderment I realized, miracles happened this Christmas. Miracles consisting of new developments in my children that I thought would never happen.  The miracle of being in a neighborhood where kids all wanted to partake of a small celebration of the Christ child in the woods. Miracles of a realizing the Savior that was born was born to me. Miracles that this message IS slowly being passed on to my children. It IS sinking in.

During my ponderment, lessons were learned. I realize through the rush that I have no control over time. I can't stop it or even pause it . Yet, I can use my time better so that time is more meaningful making it possibly less rushed. I have taken more time to write and hope to do more. Simply because it helps slow time for me and deepens my pondering time.

I have pondered over and over again the need for a Savior. Come Lord Jesus come! Murdering, a straying away from our faith, a country crumbling, sickness, such a laundry list of sins in this world. Come Lord Jesus come!

So in these last days of this year, I strive for more hush. It seems to me that in these times of pause and meditation on Him that He whispers to us and works in us to move forward more carefully and in a pondering state.

Santa Claus at age Five

When I was five I was afraid of Santa Claus. The beard, the glasses and the big fat body were all real factors. But also who could really tell what he looked like covered in red velvet and white fluff? Santa had a low ho ho ho ho which did not sound jolly. If you asked me at five it sounded more like a barking dog which I was not too found of either.

On this particular Christmas, I was willing to forfeit all my wishes for a cinnamon doll, a purse, and an easy bake oven for nothing but safety from Santa. My request to my mother was to phone Santa and tell him not to come. I can still after 45 years visualize the yellow telephone attached to the wall with the boingy cord attached. She went to the phone and told him the problem. My brothers were so angry with me not even session of name calling would help.

Christmas Eve came and the most beautiful part about it was the Silent Night singing candlelit church. We got home and had some snacks and a night family gathering.  Grandma stayed over at our house and slept on the couch right by the fireplace. I was lying in bed thinking about the prospects of seeing Santa anyway. I could see the living room from my bedroom. I couldn't lay awake very long.

Waking up Christmas morning, I heard two thumps. It was my brothers coming down the hallway to check out the living room then they ran to my room, pounced on me, and said- He came! He came!

At age five, Santa came despite my wish for his absence.  He gave me some of the things I wished for. He came quietly and without me knowing. I had slept all the way through it. Grandma said, he was so quiet, even she didn't here him and she was sleeping right there in the living room.

Year after year, I tell that story to my classroom kids. I've not told it to my own yet. Year after year, I  find that kids can relate to this story. They want Santa to come to their house, but he is a little bit of a scary looking man. What Santa stands for is much stronger than a visit from a man in a suit, with a beard and sometimes glasses! He brings us joy . He is good. He thinks of others before himself. He comes to remind us to believe - have faith.

Too many years later, the lesson of Santa Claus has grown to a larger one. I know what it means to believe in something that you aren't sure about - you don't fully have all the facts. Believing means being satisfied even without the facts. Baby steps to Faith in the One that is Christmas.

And more than ever do we need to believe. So much even in this last year we have seen a real crumbling of our world. The older I get the more sin is abounding around me. I've lost that child like faith and need it back again to be fully satisfied in the Savior that we so desperately need. I am not sure why or how God came fully in a the form of a baby who was conceived by the Holy Spirit. Why did He leave all the glories of heaven to come down to the stink of a stable. More and more I need to be satisfied in the One who is more than Santa Claus. He is our Savior. He came even though we may have feared it. He came and will come again even though we don't know when and can't understand how. He is more than the faith and goodness and mystery of Santa. He is our Lord and Savior.

I want Him to come. Come this Christmas in the joy of the life that morning. Come and let us adore You. Come and let us know the same wonder that those who witnessed it live. Come Lord Jesus and enter in again to this weary dark world. Come our Lord and Savior.

william tell Overature

The William Tell Overture is running through my mind daily. It is the theme song to the Lone Ranger. The music starts as soon as I hit the floor. Time races through the day and I am on the journey of here and there and everywhere. As  teacher and a parent of young kids - age five or under, my season of life at this time is about serving well the needs of kids and squeezing in some refreshment in life. While it races on, it is with the "If you give a mouse a cookie" flare. If I ask kids to help me fold laundry, they will want me to bury them in the clothes. It will remind them of taking a little rest. So they will bring all their books and snuggle up in the clean clothes. When they are rested, they will want a snack ... so they will ask for some crackers and milk. It will remind them of a gingerbread house... etc...

I am not a children's writer reviewer but I never did like those "If you give a mouse, moose, dog, cat, pig, etc books. " ( Though many are out there and author is making money on them right and left so I know nothing...) Those stories have events unfolding that never seemed related. Yet, I guess it reminds me that the unexpected does happen with kids and unrelated things happen because each child has their own ideas, make their own connections-- leading you sometimes on a crazy William Tell Overture paced goose chase. If I make pretzels with my kids, they will get flour on the floor. They will want to slip and slide in it. Slipping and sliding will remind them of ice skating in the winter. They will want to build a snowman - ( even though there is no snow) So you give them some cotton balls. ... etc...

I just celebrated 44 years of life. Not very old.. but still feeling like time has really flown. Time is so eaten up by so many things. I've been challenged to use each minute wisely. I don't want to miss out on quality of life because I've wasted time. I have a mile long list of things I want to do that take up time but there are so many things that take priority over those. Even those without kids face the same challenge. Are we all ADD or do we all have the William Tell Overture drive?

With two young kids and teaching young kids, I am finding out that the holidays beginning in October are running together. And yet there is time each month to celebrate each... thirty days - longer for Christmas. I don't want them to run together into confusion and a "what happened ?" state. So I am striving for ways to slow time down - with quality and not quantity. Reduce my agenda and pick what's most special and do it to the fullest- give it the depth and breadth- ( and this is even required of us teachers as we take on the common core) . Do the play scheme to the fullest and invent new things to do with the toys already in possession. Enjoy the wait when it is time to be patient. A real challenge- I need/want it now - is my son's favorite sentence.  But why and No that's not fair is my daughter's favorite. I am just as bad- But I want my husband home from work now! I want to wave my magic wand and have the dinner made, laundry put away, and have time for ....... something else.  Enjoy the wait- talk, pray, sing, do a quick game... It is time to brainstorm that one closely.

I am older each year as you are too. 20 years older than my hair dresser. 15 years older than a good neighbor. Old enough to say I lived years without cell phones, computers, ipads, microwaves, and color television. Time has flown and I sometimes wish it were yesterday.  That sounds too much like my grandma who lived to be 100 so I am not nearly that old. Time still flies. But in the meantime, if a different song could run through my head.. than it is a start at least.