A Little Hard To See

Each Monday at school, Cordy’s class starts their week by writing down all of that week’s homework assignments on a homework log provided by the teacher. This helps the kids plan their week and, more importantly in our case, helps Aaron and I guide Cordy on her homework for the week. I absolutely love the homework log.

At first, Cordy’s homework log was written in pencil. However, I think she was getting bored with pencil, and so she started bringing home a log written in different colors of pen each week. I wasn’t concerned, other than pen made it impossible to erase or make corrections without scratching something out.

Apparently she became bored with pen, too, because two weeks ago she brought home the homework log with everything written in pink highlighter. Not terrible, but it wasn’t a fine point highlighter, so it was a little hard to read.

Last week, however, I think we reached an intervention point:

Cordy's homework log

“Yellow highlighter?” I asked as I squinted and tilted the page to try to read what was written. “Don’t you think that’s a little hard to read?”

“No, mom, it’s okay. I know what it says,” she responded dismissively.

“You do?” I asked incredulously. “You must have better eyes than me, because I can’t even read the dates at the top of the page.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” she cooed. (At this point I’m reminded to be careful to not sound too condescending to her at any point, because she mimics the tone as well as the phrase. And clearly in this moment she was giving me the verbal equivalent of a pat on the head.) “See? That right there says December 3 to December 12.”

“Uh, Cordy? The dates for this week are supposed to be December 8 to December 12.”

She paused for a moment, looking at the log with her eyes wide. “RIGHT! 8! It says December 8. I said the wrong thing earlier. I meant 8.”

Sure you did, kid. I’m just thankful there weren’t a lot of assignments last week to decipher.



At Least I’m Appreciated For Something

Mira’s kindergarten class has been practicing the art of writing letters. They’ve mostly been working on the “hey, how are you?” type letters, but it has been mentioned that they can write thank you notes, too.

We’ve also tried to teach our kids the importance of saying thank you and being grateful when someone gives you something or does something helpful for you.

So I shouldn’t have been surprised when Mira proudly presented me with a thank you note. She admitted she got help from daddy on spelling some of the words, and help in taping it back together when it ripped as she pulled it out of her notebook. But the sentiment? All hers.

Mira's note to meI’m the blue person on the left, Mira is the pink one in the middle – her marker was drying up and it got fuzzy.

Of all of the things she could think of to thank me for, she chose taxes. I’m really not sure what to say to that.



Faking It

Last summer we signed Mira up for gymnastics after she expressed an interest in finding an activity for herself. Mira had tried ballet before that, but we decided she just wasn’t right for ballet. No matter how hard the instructor tried to calm the kid down, it all moved too slowly for her. We hoped gymnastics, with the ability to jump, tumble, and flip, might be more her style.

One week into it, Cordy decided she wanted to be a part of it, too. We never thought Cordy would like gymnastics, but she really wanted to join in. We signed her up as well in the hopes that she might gain some confidence and improve her coordination.

Since then, Mira continues to love gymnastics and while not even close to the most coordinated kid in her class, she’s making progress. Mira insists she’ll be in the Olympics someday. Considering she’s an entire head taller than every other kid in the class of five year olds and trips over air, I doubt it, but I’m thrilled she has goals and works hard at improving.

Cordy, though, is not making any progress and instead is showing signs of being uninterested. She insists she likes going, but once there she’s usually too distracted by what the other classes are doing and then doesn’t want to try anything new or push herself outside of her comfort zone. Her teacher has been incredibly kind and patient with her, but I can tell even she is getting discouraged with Cordy’s unwillingness to put any confidence in herself.

She enjoys gymnastics and comes out with a smile on her face, but she’s made practically no progress with her skills and is becoming more and more distracted during class. We haven’t told Cordy yet, but this is her last session of gymnastics and we’ll encourage her to try another activity she might like more.

Last week, both girls appeared happy to go to gymnastics. After dinner, they put on their leotards and were all ready to go. Once there, they went to the benches to wait for their class to start, but then Cordy looked around for a minute and then went to the bathroom. Several minutes later, she came out frowning and sat back on the bench, clutching her stomach and looking miserable as she looked at me.

I waved Cordy to come talk to me, and she said she felt sick. I put my hand on her forehead (classic mom first move for a sick kid, right?) and she wasn’t warm. “My stomach really hurts, mom. I feel like I’m going to be sick,” she continued.

“Can you get through gymnastics?” I asked.

She sighed and clutched her stomach again. “I don’t know. I don’t think I can tonight because I don’t feel good.”

Her class was gathering to begin, so I had to make a quick judgement call. She was completely fine before we got there, but this is also my child who is honest to a fault at times. Her fear of missing out on something she’s supposed to do and disappointing a teacher generally pushes her to keep going even when she shouldn’t. Maybe she really was sick?

I texted Aaron, who was on his way from work, and let him know that Cordy was sick and needed to go home as soon as he got there. Cordy then came to sit in the parents’ waiting area with me. She walked there hunched over, looking miserable, but as soon as we reached the bleachers, she perked up as she climbed to the top row.

“Wow, mommy, these are fun! Look how high I can sit!”

I frowned. “I thought you didn’t feel good? Maybe you could join your class if you’re feeling better.”

Her eyes widened, and then her bright mood disappeared again. “Oh! Oh, I really don’t feel good. I just thought these seats were interesting.” She resumed crossing her arms over her stomach again.

Mira and her class were soon in front of us starting their first activities. And within minutes, Cordy was once again distracted. “Look, mommy, there’s Mira! Let’s wave to Mira!”

Again I asked, “Cordy, I thought you were sick?”

“Um, I can still cheer for my sister even when I’m sick, right?”

“Not with that much energy,” I responded.

She continued to go back and forth between looking ill and being distracted by something until Aaron got there. I realized by then that she had faked the whole thing. She wasn’t sick at all, she just didn’t want to do gymnastics that night. It’s the first time Cordy has ever lied about being sick to get out of doing something, and I totally fell for it. What’s worse – she had a good idea that I’d fall for it or she wouldn’t have done it.

In some ways, I’m proud of her for faking it. It’s often believed that kids on the autism spectrum have a hard time with lying, or can’t do it at all. She’s made up creative stories about why something didn’t get done before, or used the convenient “I forgot” excuse a few times (which in her case is often true), but she’s never out-and-out lied about being sick to avoid a task, complete with acting the part. True, she wasn’t very good at continuing the act, but she managed to keep it up long enough to fool me. So really, this is Cordy portraying very typical kid behavior, which is progress for her.

But on the other hand, I don’t want to celebrate a child who lies, either. When Aaron arrived, I specifically mentioned to him that I was certain she was faking it, and so he took her home to finish her homework and go to bed, since sick children don’t get to do anything fun like watch TV. She wasn’t so happy about that part, and I hope that will keep her from trying it again. He told me she seemed totally fine at home, too, further confirming my suspicions that she was never sick to begin with.

Even if she’s losing interest in gymnastics, I’m not letting her quit until this session is over. Both kids were asked if they wanted to sign up for the winter session and both said they wanted to, so I expect her to finish out what she agreed to. After that, Cordy is free to choose another activity to try.

I only hope she won’t try repeating her “sick day” again this week. I don’t like having to play both mom and talent scout to determine if she really is sick or is trying another performance piece in the hopes of winning the award of getting-out-of-work.



Fighting Inner Demons and Zombies

We’re several weeks into the new school year now, and for the most part it’s gone well. We had bus issues at the beginning, but since they readjusted the pick-up time in the morning, we haven’t had any problems with the kids arriving late to school. We’re still choosing to pick them up from school each day because no solution could be found to shorten the afternoon bus ride to under an hour and a half.

I had originally worried Mira might be challenging for her kindergarten teacher. She’s not only smart, but she’s clever and knows how to manipulate a situation to her favor. But so far everything has been great. She’s already gathered her own gang of friends, she’s progressing quickly with learning to read, and she claims she’s never had to move her name once on the behavior board. (If they get in trouble, they have to move their name to a different spot – the lower you go, the more privileges you lose.)

Cordy’s year has been a little more of a struggle. When the bus was running late and they were helping her deal with the anxiety related to that, she quickly picked up on the concept that if she had anxiety in class, she was taken to the special needs room where she got to swing and relax. So, like most kids would do with this knowledge, she’d fake anxiety to get out of boring class time and go relax.

I realized what she was doing very quickly and collaborated with her teachers to remove this as a reward. Now if she has to go to the special needs class, she loses computer time. With that change, her behavior immediately improved and she remained in class all day for the past few weeks. Other than her complaints that they’re only learning “kindergarten-level” math (can you tell she’s bored?), she’s enjoying school.

This week has been harder, though. I don’t know if it’s the weather change or the full moon earlier in the week, but she took a full step backwards in behavior. Unfocused, hyper, irritable – it’s been a challenging few days for her.

Then yesterday I received a call from the special needs teacher. A group of kids were playing “zombies” at school, and the play got a little rough. Cordy, trying to protect other kids from the zombies, grabbed a boy around the neck and left small scratches on his neck. There’s no way she meant to hurt him – the teacher said all of the kids were playing rough and that’s when they were told to stop.

But because Cordy had hurt another kid, school policy required her to lose her second recess and spend it in their behavior correction class. It’s a classroom with a behavior specialist in the room at all times, who helps kids work through better choices for their actions. Some kids spend most of their day in that room, others (like Cordy) only are there for a recess and hopefully never return.

For a perfectionist like Cordy, the world came to an end. That is where the Bad Kids go, which means she must be a bad kid. Unable to separate out the difference between a bad action and a bad person, she immediately became upset. Her teacher said she was crying in class and couldn’t focus on her schoolwork, so she was taken to the special needs room to calm down.

She told her special needs teacher that she should be “thrown away” or that we should “kill” her because she’s such a bad person. They were shocked at her reaction and didn’t know what to do. My heart ached to hear it, but I wasn’t shocked. Cordy often overreacts like this when she makes a mistake, and we have to walk a very thin line in discussing the problem with her while also protecting her ultra-fragile self-esteem.

No matter how often we tell her that everyone makes mistakes, and we learn from our mistakes so we don’t make them again, she still believes that a mistake means she’s a failure as a human being. Her inner voice – or inner demons, really – convince her that each mistake is THE biggest mistake she could possibly make, and she will never be able to right the wrongs or redeem herself.

Cordy did eventually calm down after her teacher repeated much of the script we use when she overreacts, and she served her sentence of missing second recess. But she was still upset when she came home.

I was fighting back tears the rest of the day. Cordy is our gentle soul who doesn’t understand why anyone would hurt someone on purpose. She internalizes every mistake as a personal failure, with even the smallest error on her part worthy of the most extreme punishment in her mind. It hurts to see her struggle and tear herself down so much. She is a smart, happy, and kind child who likes to please others, but no matter how much I try to show her that and praise her, she only sees her flaws.

Also, at the moment she’s still mostly unaware of what her classmates think of her, but I’m sure that she’ll find out eventually. How long will it be until someone calls her “weird” or a “freak” and it sinks in? How will we handle that? I love this kid with all of my heart, but I know I can’t protect her from the rest of the world forever.

No one prepares you for this part of parenting. What To Expect When Your Kid Navigates The Social World of Elementary School and The Happiest Elementary School Kid On The Block aren’t handed out at baby showers when we’re anxiously preparing to become parents. Add in special needs and autism, and it’s three times as difficult. My heart aches.

(And yes, I’m already starting to worry what’s ahead when puberty sets in and kids get really mean.)



Don’t Let The Praise Go To Your Head

We signed the girls up for gymnastics over the summer. The once a week classes were our best hope for our two daughters developing any coordination, balance, or the ability to not trip and fall while walking on a smooth, level surface.

Both kids insisted they wanted to take gymnastics for the fall session, so we signed them up again. Last night was the first night of gymnastics, and both Cordy and Mira did a fantastic job. We were really impressed with how enthusiastic they were and how much progress they made in a single night. So impressed, in fact, that we told them on the way home that we had a surprise for them.
“Since you worked so hard tonight at gymnastics,” Aaron told the girls, “we’re stopping for ice cream on the way home!”

“YAY!!” both girls cheered.

“You’re the BEST parents in the WHOLE WORLD!” Cordy exclaimed.

Mira looked at her sister and sighed. “Weeelllll…I don’t know about the WHOLE WORLD, but they’re pretty nice sometimes.”

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