A Busy Week for Teeth

At the start of last week, Mira had a loose tooth that had reached that super-wiggly stage but refused to come out. Each day she asked if I’d try to pull it out for her, and I refused, mostly because she winced whenever she wiggled it too much, so I didn’t want to hurt her if it wasn’t ready to come out yet.

Cordy also had a wiggly tooth, only in her case she didn’t want it to come out. This was her silver tooth, and despite all of the trouble that tooth had caused her when she was younger, she loved that it was “shiny” and didn’t want it to go away.

I tried to reason with her. “Cordy, the tooth needs to come out so the adult tooth can come in.”

“Will a shiny silver tooth grow in to replace it?” she asked.

“No, sorry sweetie, teeth don’t grow in silver,” I explained. “Yours has a silver cover on it because it had a weak spot in it when it formed that caused it to crumble. The silver cover made it strong so they didn’t have to pull it and we could wait until the adult tooth was ready to come in.”

That didn’t convince her. She still didn’t want to give it up.

So I should have guessed why Cordy seemed so upset when Aaron picked the girls up from school one day. As they got out of the car, Cordy looked defeated, frown fixed on her face and disappointment in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” I asked Aaron.

Aaron held out his hand and gave me the silver tooth. It had fallen out after school, and Cordy was distraught. Unlike the other baby teeth she had lost, this one was important to her and she was sad it was gone.

Meanwhile, Mira was also sulking, upset that her sister lost a tooth without even trying while she was wiggling away at her tooth that wouldn’t come out.

I tried to cheer Cordy up: “Hey, I’ll bet the tooth fairy probably pays extra for shiny silver teeth like that!”

“Noooooo!” she wailed. “I don’t want her to take it! Please don’t let her take it, mommy!” That didn’t work.

“Ok, ok, we won’t let her take it. How about this: I’ll hide it away until you decide what you want to do with it? Sound good?”

It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it worked for her. So now I have a silver-crowned tooth sitting in my nightstand drawer, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to safely get rid of it.

A few days later, Mira got off the bus with a big grin and something hanging around her neck. “I lost my tooth!”

The gap in her grin confirmed the missing tooth as she held up the tooth locket for me to see. At school they put lost teeth in a little tooth-shaped container that’s on a necklace, to keep the hallways free of misplaced human teeth.

Missing a tooth

Mira was triumphant, of course. And unlike Cordy, she couldn’t wait to hand her tooth over to the tooth fairy for a reward.

That night, as I tucked her in and made sure her tooth was also tucked in to her tooth-fairy pillow, Mira motioned for me to lean in close. “Mommy,” she whispered, “will you help me wiggle my other teeth to see which will come out next?”

No. Two teeth in a week is plenty for me.



No Wind, Nor Rain or Bus Woes, Shall Stop These Heroes…

…from getting their CANDY.

For some strange reason, the weather prediction of a 100% chance of rain and high winds up to 50mpg during trick-or-treat didn’t persuade the city to move the annual candy grab back a day or two, like most sensible counties around us did.

Instead, they changed the trick-or-treat time from 6:00-8:00pm to 5:30-7:00pm. Because moving it up half an hour when the rain was scheduled to arrive around 4pm would make ALL the difference.

Our trick-or-treat was further hindered by school bus delays. (Again.) It would seem one overturned semi-truck on a highway that their bus doesn’t even travel on is enough to stop all traffic in the city. Columbus has no concept of how to drive in the rain.

Around 5pm, another parent tweeted me that he had received a robocall that all buses were running an hour or more late due to the single accident in the city. I was thankful to know where the kids were, but wondering why we hadn’t received the same robocall? I contemplated calling Transportation, to be That Parent again, but knew it would likely be pointless since there was probably no one there.

At 5:30, right when trick-or-treat was starting, the bus pulled up. And at the same time, the phone rang with the robocall regarding the bus delays. Too late.

We ushered the kids in quickly, sat them down for a few bites of dinner before letting them skip the rest and hurry into their costumes. Instead of two hours of trick-or-treat, they only had one and a half hours now, and they were anxious that they’d miss out.

Holding their pumpkin buckets for the loot and umbrellas to fight off the wind and rain, they ventured forth into the storm in search of free candy.

Yucky Halloween weather

At first, Mira nearly blew away with her umbrella as the wind caught it before we left the driveway. We didn’t make it a block before she handed me her umbrella and said she’d rather get wet than keep dealing with her unruly windcatcher.

Cordy held her umbrella high, enjoying the struggle against the wind as she believed she had the super powers to use the umbrella to fight off the weather.

They didn’t make it as far as they usually do before the damp penetrated their costumes and they were weary from trying to remain upright when the wind pushed them every which way.

But they still had buckets full of candy, so the night was declared a success.

Halloween 2013

And because we’re days away from election day, I’ll also ask locals who are Columbus City Schools district residents to go check out the site I’m helping out with:

It's OKAY to Vote NO



Is My Child Hearing Ghost Voices?

“Mommy, did you hear someone say hello?”

Mira walked over to where I was sitting and asked that question. She had been standing by the door, watching for the bus, and just before that I had noticed her head snap up from looking at her feet, as if slightly startled, followed by her looking all around as if she had heard something.

“No. I didn’t hear anything,” I replied.

She looked lost in thought, somewhere between puzzled and frustrated. She took a few steps back to the door, looking out again to make sure no one was out there. “Are you sure you didn’t hear anything?” she asked again.

“Yes, I’m sure. Did you hear someone say hello, Mira?”

She nodded her head, frowning. “I was standing by the door and I heard a voice say ‘Hello’ quietly but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.” Then she added, hesitantly, “Sometimes I hear things that my friends can’t hear, too. They don’t believe me when I tell them I heard it.”

At this point I was curious as to what she’s been hearing. I asked her to tell me what she hears that others don’t hear. She told me she often hears someone saying her name, quietly but clearly, although sometimes she hears other things and can’t always tell what the voice is saying. It’s happened at home and at school, when she’s by herself and with others around her. She was hesitant to tell me the details, and I think she worried that I’d think she was crazy.

I then asked her what the voice who said hello sounded like. Was it a girl’s voice or a boy’s voice? Did the voice sound nice or mean?

“It’s a scratchy voice. I can’t tell if it’s a boy or girl. It’s a little weird, but I don’t think it’s mean. It kinda sounds like Mr. Invisible Man’s voice.” She then tried to imitate the scratchy voice, which sounded totally creepy to me.

Spirited AwayMr. Invisible Man was a make-believe nuisance that we blamed much of her clumsiness on when she was younger. The kid has a natural ability for tripping over nothing, falling down unexpectedly from a standing position, and dropping things even with a strong grip. Never would I have thought that Mr. Invisible Man now had a voice that she recognized, or that he was actually real to her.

Way to start out a morning, right? Especially so close to Halloween!

I could see she was bothered by this (and I was starting to get uncomfortable as well), so whether or not I thought she was actually hearing voices, I wanted to give her some comfort. I suggested that maybe the voice was her great-grandma Polly (Aaron’s grandmother), who passed away almost a year ago. Polly was a woman of strong faith, and equally strong devotion to her family. “Were you thinking about grandma Polly recently?” I asked.

Mira’s eyes brightened a little. “When I woke up, I was thinking about when we played a game with grandma Polly at the restaurant.”

“Maybe that memory brought her closer to you, and she wanted to tell you hi so you knew she was still with you?”

Mira thought about that for a moment, then smiled. “Yeah, even though she’s gone, she’s not really gone ’cause she still lives in our hearts. Maybe my heart called to her and so she came to say hi.”

Oh, my sweet girl.

I think she felt better knowing that I took her seriously and didn’t think she was making it up or crazy. She told me more about how this may have been grandma Polly saying hello, but she’s been hearing voices say her name before grandma Polly had died. At that point, the bus arrived (the one time I wish it wasn’t later than it already was!), and she skipped down the driveway to go to school, completely unfazed at disembodied voices greeting her.

I got both kids onto the bus, came back inside the quiet, empty house, and immediately felt creeped out.

Mira is a little girl with very deep thoughts. She ponders this kind of stuff all the time. Cordy has few questions about death and is scared of it, but Mira often asks about death, the idea of a soul, and remaining close to those we love when we die.

When I told Aaron about the morning’s events, he reminded me that Mira somehow has a strong faith in some kind of god, even though we’re not particularly religious. We’re a mixed-faith family, with Jewish/Christian backgrounds and Unitarian/atheist/agnostic beliefs, and generally want our kids to choose for themselves if they want to have faith or not.

And while she knows and will tell us that monsters and zombies aren’t real, she draws the line at ghosts and believes they are very real. No matter what we tell her, ghosts are real. And Santa Claus – he’s also still real for her.

Does Mira have some kind of a gift to hear ghosts, or is her imagination running away with her in the Halloween spirit? I don’t know. But I believe that she believes she hears them, and so I’ll respect her belief. As long as she doesn’t feel threatened and isn’t frightened, I’ll support her and help her try to make sense of it if she wants my help. Or I’ll let her explain it to me if she’d rather. She’s the one hearing things, so she’s the better judge of what she’s experiencing.

This happened last week, and she hasn’t mentioned it to me again since then. But since then I’ve become more aware of when I hear her talking to herself – short, one-sided interactions of a few words here and there. I wonder if she’ll continue to hear the voices or if she’ll grow out of it?

I’ll admit that this freaked me out a little. Not only that it brings up questions of unseen forces, but also if it’s somehow real, I want to know who is speaking to my child.

Has anyone else had a child that admitted they saw or heard things that others couldn’t? How did it affect him/her, and did he/she grow out of it?



It’s Still Non-Fiction, Right?

Four nights of the week, part of Cordy’s homework is to read a book for twenty minutes, then fill out a paper that asks her to summarize what she’s read. Two of those nights, it’s a fiction book. The other two nights are non-fiction.

It’s been a lot harder to get Cordy to do the assignment with non-fiction books. She’s far more interested in getting lost in the world of a fiction book than having to face the real world and all of its limitations.

A few days ago, I got the kids off the bus and we started the usual homework routine. I asked Cordy if she brought home a non-fiction book for her homework or if she needed my help to find one in our house. (Despite our overflowing bookshelves, it’s harder than you might think.) She enthusiastically said, “Oh yes, I have a GREAT non-fiction book for tonight. Here, I’ll show you!”

She ran to her backpack and dug through all of the books she insists on keeping in it every day. Then she pulled out a book triumphantly, walked back to where I was sitting, and proudly presented the book to me:

Dictionary - a non-fiction book?

A dictionary?

“Um, Cordy, I don’t think this is what your teacher meant by a non-fiction book…” I tried to explain.

My concerns over her choice of book sent Cordy into a fit of, “I can’t do ANYTHING right! I’m horrible at picking books and this homework is just TOO HARD!”

I calmed her down and tried to explain why her book wasn’t a good choice. “Your book isn’t fiction, but it isn’t really non-fiction, either.”

“Of course it’s non-fiction,” Cordy replied, “It’s a dictionary, and dictionaries only tell you about words that exist!”

At least I didn’t need to worry that she expected a coherent story from the dictionary.

And really, I couldn’t argue with her logic.

So I gave in. I told her she could use it for her non-fiction reading. She does four of these a week, every week. If she loses credit on one worksheet, it won’t be that damaging. Hopefully her teacher will find it amusing, too.

She read through her dictionary for twenty minutes (skipping around a bit) and later that night she completed her worksheet.

I’m especially fond of the main idea:

A worksheet about a dictionary

Perhaps, in the weeks ahead, her class will begin learning more about the select group of books known collectively as reference materials?



Testing Update (& A Bit More School Politics)

Sorry for the not-so-brief trip down education politics boulevard. Well, I’m not all that sorry, to be honest. I dislike seeing people try to force action by spreading fear and half-truths, and I’m glad I have the platform to tell the story of what really happened at the PTA meeting I attended. If the district is upset, they only have themselves to blame – I wouldn’t have been at that meeting if it wasn’t for the transportation issue.

And now it seems I’ve unintentionally positioned myself as part of a mini-revolution against the school district’s status quo policy of spending more to get the same results. People are saying I should run for school board. They clearly don’t know just how unorganized I am.

I never thought my post would be shared as much as it has been. Thank you, Columbus, for taking notice and agreeing that our kids deserve better. If/when the levy fails, I hope you’ll all stay just as mobilized to demand better from our school leaders.

Also, quick shout-out to a group of parent volunteers who set up the website It’s Okay to Vote No. I’ve helped them with this project (mostly helping them get the site up & organized), and will continue lending a little of my time when I can to write for them. Locals, go check them out. Right now it looks like they’re the WikiLeaks of the school district.

Moving on.

Because of this school drama, I completely forgot to let everyone know how Cordy did last week on her state testing! We don’t have the results yet, of course, and really the score results don’t matter as much as the results of how she did taking the test.

Despite the stress, despite her anxiety, she went to school that day ready to take the test. Her teachers told us that she seemed anxious when she got there, and they tried to relax her as best they could. She had her special needs teacher with her during the testing period, and her teacher gave her glittery pencils to use for the test. Cordy loves anything that glitters or is shiny, and apparently she calmed down quickly once they explained the schedule wasn’t going to be all that different from her usual class day.

All of our interventions ahead of time worked. Teachers and parents together, downplaying the stress involved, reminding her that there’s no score she has to beat on the test, asking her only to focus and do her best – it all worked. Her teacher reported that once the test began, she was focused and worked very hard.

Because of her IEP, she has the option of taking frequent breaks between sections of the test. I wasn’t sure if she’d take advantage of those breaks to not let the test get to her or if she’d forget. She was reminded that she had breaks available to use, but we were told that she chose to keep going as she finished each section.

The third grade OAA test is two and a half hours long. Cordy finished in just under 45 minutes. Seriously, less than 45 minutes for a two and a half hour test! That’s my girl, racing to the finish line just like I did as a kid, as if finishing before everyone else earns you additional points.

When I was told how quickly she finished, I confessed that I was worried that she didn’t read the questions fully. Her teacher, who sat right with her for the test, reassured me that Cordy was carefully checking her work and, she suspects, did very well on the test. We’ll know for sure when the results are released next month.

Of course, finishing the test early meant that Cordy got to have some free reading time, which is the best reward you could ever give her. And after that she got to watch part of a movie, too. When I got the full report at the end of the day, Cordy told me how AWESOME (all caps for her emphasis) the day was, and how she loves taking tests if she gets free reading time and movies after each test.

I’m incredibly proud of her for overcoming her anxiety so she could focus and do well on her OAA exam. It sounds like she aced the test, and no matter the score, she gained greater control over her anxiety that will hopefully carry forward to future schoolwork. That’s a win for me.

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