December 15, 2010
A lot has transpired since we decided to move Nitalia back to kindergarten in September. She continued to get negative reports from her new teacher. She wasn’t sitting still, she was distracted, she was bossy…the list was, in my mind, endless. Each day I would pick Nitalia up from school, I would receive a new negative report. It felt overwhelming.
Let me go back, Nitalia has been in some form of school since the fall of 2007 that means she was almost 3 when she began her first Montessori school. At conferences three months into the school year we found out that Nitalia was not choosing work. The idea that a teacher would wait three months to tell a parent there seemed to be a glitch in the learning of the child was outrageous to me. I am a teacher; a week into the school year I would call parents and let them know what is happening if it didn’t fit the educational plan of the child.
Montessori is not the right choice for everyone, and at the time we felt maybe it was not the right choice for Nitalia. So in the fall of the next year we moved her to a private pre-school housed in a Catholic church. At 4, Nitalia did well playing with the other children, doing crafts, learning about Jesus. That year at her annual wellness exam, the pediatrician who has been seeing her since birth asked when we planned to do for kindergarten. He suggested something non-traditional as his observations of Nitalia during the twenty minutes each year he saw her suggested to him that she would be board in a traditional classroom. He thought she would need something extra.
So began our quest to find the right fit for Nitalia when it came to schools.
At the time she was doing well in the private, church based, preschool, so we re-enrolled her. That fall with the changing of the leaves came the complaining about Nitalia’s behavior. She speaks out of turn, she can’t sit still, she doesn’t follow the rules.
One day on my way home from teaching, I noticed a small bus in front of me with the name and number of Primrose School in Eden Prairie, Minn. I called and got an appointment. This was the week prior to the winter holiday break, so I schedule the tour and meeting for the following week.
Nitalia went to Primrose with me that day. The school’s director, Ben Adams, took her into a room and gave her an assessment the next day. In his words, she would be able to handle the kindergarten curriculum easily, so after the first of 2010, Nitalia began kindergarten. 8-3 Monday-Friday, she had her mind exercised. She studied math, reading, science, social studies, music, and got to exercise her body too.
Then we moved to California, and with the changing of the school came the complaints about her behavior. So, to make it easy for myself and the first grade teacher I moved Nitalia to kindergarten, where for a week or so it felt as if we had made the right choice.
Going back to kindergarten should have been the best thing for everyone. The facts are simple; last year she only had half a year of kindergarten, she didn’t turn six until October 10, 2010, and if we were in Minnesota she would be in kindergarten. Simple, she should have been happier; I should have been happier.
But the behavioral complaints just kept coming in, so I took steps to have Nitalia tested. Each and every teacher who has complained about her behavior has been asked the same question; is Nitalia’s behavior substantially worse than most kids her age? The answer, no one gives us one! They pussy foot around as if I haven’t asked it so they can recues themselves of any responsibility.
Then I found Dr. David Palmer. Dr. Palmer is a highly regarded licensed child psychologist who specializes in gifted and talented children. December 11, 2010 e gave Nitalia a standard IQ test for children her age. He told us that she is “profoundly gifted” when it comes to her cognitive and reasoning abilities and “above average” academically. His first recommendation, a grade adjustment to FIRST GRADE!
Just having the information makes me feel better. Knowing that her “busy” behaviors such as taking and moving around are because her brain is trying desperately to stay engaged at school is a breath of fresh air. Knowing her serial killer handwriting is not just genetic, her dad has terrible handwriting too, but also “normal” for someone who sees so much of the big picture helps me to know there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
On Monday I approached Nitalia’s teacher as I would want to be approached with this information. I am a teacher, and I had no idea what characteristics accompany a child with these abilities. All along I knew Nitalia did not have a learning disorder, but how could I be sure. So we had the tests done. Now, I can express to the teacher in a way that is quantifiable that my daughter is not intentionally being “bad” in class, she just can’t sometimes help being distracted, questioning the rules, or already knowing what is being taught.
When I said the number 155, Nitalia’s kindergarten teacher’s facial expression softened and she sighed, “ohhhhh…”
Yes, when you Google “IQ score 155” you will understand.
So while it is a relief knowing she does not have a learning disorder, there is a different kind of stress that goes along with a child whose IQ is higher than your own.
From what I have read so far, I can always make a different choice for her in terms of schooling if the first choice doesn’t fit. And what I am quickly learning as a parent is that the school will do whatever they can to help me. So we do have that going for us.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
You Can't Go Back
September 25, 2010
You can’t go back. You can never turn back time and have a “do over”, so why do we let kids do it? Is it because we know this to be true and feel badly about it? You can never go back, are the words that keep filling my head these past few days.
We are in the middle of acclimation period here in California. Our daughter is trying to become acclimated to school, we are acclimating to this life; I am acclimating to having nothing to do.
Acclimation is the SAT word of the week. Within all this acclimation, I find myself wondering if I am making the right decisions about things. Specifically, am I doing the right things for my daughter and myself?
Let me go back, when we began our research on schools here in California, we became aware that her birth date would make her a first grader here. She had recently finished a five month stint in a private school kindergarten classroom, so we asked them how they thought she would fair in the first grade. We gave them a copy of the curriculum standards for our current school district, and we got a figurative thumbs-up on her ability to handle the course work. At no time did we ever consider asking her current school for an assessment of her skills or did we think she doesn’t belong in the first grade. After all we are parents in the 21st century. Most of us want to be on top of the pile via our children, and without even thinking it through that was where we were heading. She is five. She will be six in October. At no time did I ever think she can’t handle it. I mean, after all, her birthday falls in the timeline of those who are supposed to be considered first graders in California this year.
Then, the first day of school came. There we were nervously standing on the line, waiting for the teacher to open the door and allow us admittance to the room, and I began seeing the children around her, most seemed to be a head taller. Then, I began to hear the kids around her, all seemed to be mature well beyond her. She entered the room, the teacher closed the door, and we began our walk back home. I began to cry. Now that I look back, I may have been crying because I knew in my soul this what not the right room for her, not the right class, but at the time I thought it was just the idea that my baby is growing up so quickly. Well, duh, your baby will feel like she is growing up too fast if you throw her to the wolves of the first grade in California.
As the days have gone by, I have learned that one girl who sits near Nitalia has done kindergarten twice and is seven and a boy she sits next to just celebrated his seventh birthday. Did I mention she is not even six yet? I also learned that she is one of only three 5-year-olds in the class. I began to panic. Then, three days in the teacher asked for a conference. Nitalia’s behavior was not where it should be for the first grade. She was having trouble sitting still and was talking out of turn. Ok, I thought nothing serious and nothing new. Nitalia has been pegged as chatty and fidgety before, we can work on this, and we did. Then her ability to write drew attention. She needs to write without using capital letters, a skill I figured was taught in first grade, apparently I was wrong.
When I saw her first writing compared to the other kids in the class; on her sheet I saw what looked to me like a bunch of jumbled letters on a sheet of paper with repeated words and very little space between words, on the other kids sheets I saw neatly crafted letters that spilled into extensive simple sentences better than some of my ninth graders back in Minnesota. I knew we were in over our heads. Still, we worked on small letters, and leaving spaces, and being neat. Then, there was the problem with her reading ability. She is not the worst; no, she falls right into that void called borderline. Not good enough for benchmarks, but not bad enough for extra services. 91% instead of 95%, but there are at least five kids in her class who fall below that. Her own teacher’s enrichment group for reading was already filled, but the teacher next door had room and could take Nitalia, only catch? The group meets at 7:20 before school.
Here is a caveat; I do not handle stress well. I also internalize all of the issues my daughter experiences at school. Her shortfalls are mine; her strides…you get the picture; however, I am an adult, so the shortfalls feel like failures to me. I am sure, in fact I am positive these do not feel like failures to Nitalia, as she is five and loves school, but to me – I was devastated. I know this sounds immature, but at this point I don’t care. She is my baby. I worked damn hard to get her. I am not the greatest mother on earth, I am not even that good of a mom at times, but I do know that I love my child with every fiber of my being and when I feel things aren’t going well for her, well, it just echoes off my soul like an old, damp, dark cave.
We came up with behavior strategies to support the teacher in her quest to get Nitalia up to speed with the first graders socially and maturity wise, we worked with her to write more clearly using only small letters each day, and we began to push her to read each night. Mind you there have only been two and a half weeks of school. I could feel myself becoming bitchy with her when she used a capital letter in the middle of a word, I heard the crabby tone of my voice as I chastised her for not tracking the words with her finger as she read (a skill I had always thought a child should not use until now) and I realized I was not about to become that mother. Then, I drove her to school, waited as she had enrichment for reading, met her at the playground, kissed her goodbye, and ran directly into her reading teacher who proceeded to express to me that Nitalia was having difficulty with ‘b’, ‘d’, ‘p’, and ‘q’. She went on to show me a little hand game I could play with her to help get her up to speed, and as I walked away, I burst into tears.
Why was I doing this? Why was I working so hard with my five year old who had not even completed an entire year of kindergarten? Why did I want her to be in the first grade so badly in California, when she would be in kindergarten if we were still in Minnesota? Needless to say the conversation with the first grade teacher was not as helpful as I would have liked it to be. What I derive from our conversation is this; while Nitalia is chronologically 5 (almost 6) she does have some skills that allow for success in first grade. She is good at math, science and social studies; however, she is not 7 (for all surveying, the average age of the kids in her first grade class is 6.5 or 7) and therefore her maturity level is not the same. Let me be clear in saying that she is appropriately mature for a 5-6 year old.
There is a huge difference in one year. Every parent knows this, and while she can maintain a conversation with an adult at a level that would knock your socks off, she still thinks fart noises are funny, and emulates them out loud when another kids has had a gas problem. We would all laugh at this on the surface, but we all also know that it is unacceptable social behavior, and if one of our co-workers did it in a meeting we would chastise them and exclude them from our social circle. You know I am right. Well, in kindergarten we learn these behaviors are unacceptable and our teachers help us. Nitalia has not had that guidance from school. Also, coming from the family she comes from, she has had little help there as well. I have family members who think these behaviors are funny and they are sixty-year-old men. I also have a family member with no filter who says whatever is on their mind no matter the situation, and she is 40. These are/were my daughter’s family role-models, and as much as I try to be irreverent, sophisticated and exemplar, my mouth can get me in a heap of trouble too. Nathan and I have a tendency to discuss things and people we should not in her close proximity or presence, and we need to fix it, but that is easier said than done.
But this all leads me back to my recent daily mantra, you can’t go back. I will never be able to get these moments back, I will never be able to go back and do my daughter’s life over, so I am trying now to do things as right as I possibly can. So, Nathan and I asked for Nitalia to be moved into the kindergarten at her current school. She was unhappy with the decision at first, but she is also a logical kid. After explaining to her that she would still see the kids she knows on the playground and that she could still invite those girls she loves to her birthday party, she conceded that kindergarten sounded like a good place for her. Literally, as we were driving in the car a while after Nathan and I had spoken to her about the possible change she said, “Mommy, I have had some time to think about it, and kindergarten sounds like the right place for me.”
What always confounds me about Nitalia is her ability to rise to my level in conversation and then sink to the lowest possible level in her classes. She always seems to make friends with the boy or girl with outright behavioral problems. She always talks to me about the girls she befriends and they sound so bossy. Hmmmm, the realization that likes attract each other scares me to death, so can we all just pretend that this is not the case. I like to think that she befriends these kids out of the goodness of her heart, because she knows they will be social outcasts and wants to help them overcome their personal flaws. Not until now did I ever entertain the thought that she is drawn to kids whom are like her.
Dear God, please let this not be the case.
We meet with the some type of learning committee on Monday morning to finalize her move to kindergarten, and from there I hope it will be smoother sailing. Do I feel like a failure and as though I gave up, yes. But I also feel as though I have done what is in the best interest of my child, who will not be 6 for another three weeks and would continue to be the youngest in her class had I left her where she was. My hope is that now she can go into kindergarten as a leader with skills that will help her feel successful. That is my hope.
You can’t go back. You can never turn back time and have a “do over”, so why do we let kids do it? Is it because we know this to be true and feel badly about it? You can never go back, are the words that keep filling my head these past few days.
We are in the middle of acclimation period here in California. Our daughter is trying to become acclimated to school, we are acclimating to this life; I am acclimating to having nothing to do.
Acclimation is the SAT word of the week. Within all this acclimation, I find myself wondering if I am making the right decisions about things. Specifically, am I doing the right things for my daughter and myself?
Let me go back, when we began our research on schools here in California, we became aware that her birth date would make her a first grader here. She had recently finished a five month stint in a private school kindergarten classroom, so we asked them how they thought she would fair in the first grade. We gave them a copy of the curriculum standards for our current school district, and we got a figurative thumbs-up on her ability to handle the course work. At no time did we ever consider asking her current school for an assessment of her skills or did we think she doesn’t belong in the first grade. After all we are parents in the 21st century. Most of us want to be on top of the pile via our children, and without even thinking it through that was where we were heading. She is five. She will be six in October. At no time did I ever think she can’t handle it. I mean, after all, her birthday falls in the timeline of those who are supposed to be considered first graders in California this year.
Then, the first day of school came. There we were nervously standing on the line, waiting for the teacher to open the door and allow us admittance to the room, and I began seeing the children around her, most seemed to be a head taller. Then, I began to hear the kids around her, all seemed to be mature well beyond her. She entered the room, the teacher closed the door, and we began our walk back home. I began to cry. Now that I look back, I may have been crying because I knew in my soul this what not the right room for her, not the right class, but at the time I thought it was just the idea that my baby is growing up so quickly. Well, duh, your baby will feel like she is growing up too fast if you throw her to the wolves of the first grade in California.
As the days have gone by, I have learned that one girl who sits near Nitalia has done kindergarten twice and is seven and a boy she sits next to just celebrated his seventh birthday. Did I mention she is not even six yet? I also learned that she is one of only three 5-year-olds in the class. I began to panic. Then, three days in the teacher asked for a conference. Nitalia’s behavior was not where it should be for the first grade. She was having trouble sitting still and was talking out of turn. Ok, I thought nothing serious and nothing new. Nitalia has been pegged as chatty and fidgety before, we can work on this, and we did. Then her ability to write drew attention. She needs to write without using capital letters, a skill I figured was taught in first grade, apparently I was wrong.
When I saw her first writing compared to the other kids in the class; on her sheet I saw what looked to me like a bunch of jumbled letters on a sheet of paper with repeated words and very little space between words, on the other kids sheets I saw neatly crafted letters that spilled into extensive simple sentences better than some of my ninth graders back in Minnesota. I knew we were in over our heads. Still, we worked on small letters, and leaving spaces, and being neat. Then, there was the problem with her reading ability. She is not the worst; no, she falls right into that void called borderline. Not good enough for benchmarks, but not bad enough for extra services. 91% instead of 95%, but there are at least five kids in her class who fall below that. Her own teacher’s enrichment group for reading was already filled, but the teacher next door had room and could take Nitalia, only catch? The group meets at 7:20 before school.
Here is a caveat; I do not handle stress well. I also internalize all of the issues my daughter experiences at school. Her shortfalls are mine; her strides…you get the picture; however, I am an adult, so the shortfalls feel like failures to me. I am sure, in fact I am positive these do not feel like failures to Nitalia, as she is five and loves school, but to me – I was devastated. I know this sounds immature, but at this point I don’t care. She is my baby. I worked damn hard to get her. I am not the greatest mother on earth, I am not even that good of a mom at times, but I do know that I love my child with every fiber of my being and when I feel things aren’t going well for her, well, it just echoes off my soul like an old, damp, dark cave.
We came up with behavior strategies to support the teacher in her quest to get Nitalia up to speed with the first graders socially and maturity wise, we worked with her to write more clearly using only small letters each day, and we began to push her to read each night. Mind you there have only been two and a half weeks of school. I could feel myself becoming bitchy with her when she used a capital letter in the middle of a word, I heard the crabby tone of my voice as I chastised her for not tracking the words with her finger as she read (a skill I had always thought a child should not use until now) and I realized I was not about to become that mother. Then, I drove her to school, waited as she had enrichment for reading, met her at the playground, kissed her goodbye, and ran directly into her reading teacher who proceeded to express to me that Nitalia was having difficulty with ‘b’, ‘d’, ‘p’, and ‘q’. She went on to show me a little hand game I could play with her to help get her up to speed, and as I walked away, I burst into tears.
Why was I doing this? Why was I working so hard with my five year old who had not even completed an entire year of kindergarten? Why did I want her to be in the first grade so badly in California, when she would be in kindergarten if we were still in Minnesota? Needless to say the conversation with the first grade teacher was not as helpful as I would have liked it to be. What I derive from our conversation is this; while Nitalia is chronologically 5 (almost 6) she does have some skills that allow for success in first grade. She is good at math, science and social studies; however, she is not 7 (for all surveying, the average age of the kids in her first grade class is 6.5 or 7) and therefore her maturity level is not the same. Let me be clear in saying that she is appropriately mature for a 5-6 year old.
There is a huge difference in one year. Every parent knows this, and while she can maintain a conversation with an adult at a level that would knock your socks off, she still thinks fart noises are funny, and emulates them out loud when another kids has had a gas problem. We would all laugh at this on the surface, but we all also know that it is unacceptable social behavior, and if one of our co-workers did it in a meeting we would chastise them and exclude them from our social circle. You know I am right. Well, in kindergarten we learn these behaviors are unacceptable and our teachers help us. Nitalia has not had that guidance from school. Also, coming from the family she comes from, she has had little help there as well. I have family members who think these behaviors are funny and they are sixty-year-old men. I also have a family member with no filter who says whatever is on their mind no matter the situation, and she is 40. These are/were my daughter’s family role-models, and as much as I try to be irreverent, sophisticated and exemplar, my mouth can get me in a heap of trouble too. Nathan and I have a tendency to discuss things and people we should not in her close proximity or presence, and we need to fix it, but that is easier said than done.
But this all leads me back to my recent daily mantra, you can’t go back. I will never be able to get these moments back, I will never be able to go back and do my daughter’s life over, so I am trying now to do things as right as I possibly can. So, Nathan and I asked for Nitalia to be moved into the kindergarten at her current school. She was unhappy with the decision at first, but she is also a logical kid. After explaining to her that she would still see the kids she knows on the playground and that she could still invite those girls she loves to her birthday party, she conceded that kindergarten sounded like a good place for her. Literally, as we were driving in the car a while after Nathan and I had spoken to her about the possible change she said, “Mommy, I have had some time to think about it, and kindergarten sounds like the right place for me.”
What always confounds me about Nitalia is her ability to rise to my level in conversation and then sink to the lowest possible level in her classes. She always seems to make friends with the boy or girl with outright behavioral problems. She always talks to me about the girls she befriends and they sound so bossy. Hmmmm, the realization that likes attract each other scares me to death, so can we all just pretend that this is not the case. I like to think that she befriends these kids out of the goodness of her heart, because she knows they will be social outcasts and wants to help them overcome their personal flaws. Not until now did I ever entertain the thought that she is drawn to kids whom are like her.
Dear God, please let this not be the case.
We meet with the some type of learning committee on Monday morning to finalize her move to kindergarten, and from there I hope it will be smoother sailing. Do I feel like a failure and as though I gave up, yes. But I also feel as though I have done what is in the best interest of my child, who will not be 6 for another three weeks and would continue to be the youngest in her class had I left her where she was. My hope is that now she can go into kindergarten as a leader with skills that will help her feel successful. That is my hope.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
On another note
As the days go by here, I am finding more and more to do. There is still a sense that I should be doing more and that I am missing out; however I am finding things I like a lot about this place.
First, Torri Hunter. He used to be my favorite Twins' player, so it is great that he is right fielder for the Angels.
Next, the sun and blue sky. Typically, it starts as a foggy overcast day here in SoCal, but it always clears up to sunny and somewhere near 70 with these beautiful blue skies.
Then there is In-N-Out Burger. Enough said.
Another thing I love is that I can dress the way I love, all blingy and stuff and no one even looks at me twice. Also, in the morning when I take the kiddo to school, I can wear my gym clothes and no one minds. This is simply because every mom works out here in the morning.
I am sure I will find more and more things I end up loving about this place, but for now this is a non-exclusive list.
First, Torri Hunter. He used to be my favorite Twins' player, so it is great that he is right fielder for the Angels.
Next, the sun and blue sky. Typically, it starts as a foggy overcast day here in SoCal, but it always clears up to sunny and somewhere near 70 with these beautiful blue skies.
Then there is In-N-Out Burger. Enough said.
Another thing I love is that I can dress the way I love, all blingy and stuff and no one even looks at me twice. Also, in the morning when I take the kiddo to school, I can wear my gym clothes and no one minds. This is simply because every mom works out here in the morning.
I am sure I will find more and more things I end up loving about this place, but for now this is a non-exclusive list.
Hmmmmmm
Well, I got my first "bad" call from the kids back at home. Now, the question is what did I do? They are not getting along with their new teacher and feeli like she is mean and confrontational.
I wonder to myself, what would happen if I told them to be horrible, not turn in their work, and argue with everything she says. I mean that is what happened to me after I took the job when she left three years ago.
I feel bad for the kids, but what am I supposed to do. Of course I took the high road. I told them to make a list of the things that are bothering them and then come up with some solutions that would be better in their minds. Then make sure that they take the high road always. I am sure there are some truths to what they are feeling about her, but I am also sure they are feeling ultra sensitive because she is new. These same things happened to me, but I also worked with the kids to make them feel better about what was happening.
I hope things work out for them all or else this is going to be a very long year.
I wonder to myself, what would happen if I told them to be horrible, not turn in their work, and argue with everything she says. I mean that is what happened to me after I took the job when she left three years ago.
I feel bad for the kids, but what am I supposed to do. Of course I took the high road. I told them to make a list of the things that are bothering them and then come up with some solutions that would be better in their minds. Then make sure that they take the high road always. I am sure there are some truths to what they are feeling about her, but I am also sure they are feeling ultra sensitive because she is new. These same things happened to me, but I also worked with the kids to make them feel better about what was happening.
I hope things work out for them all or else this is going to be a very long year.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Life or something like it
Recently my family moved across country for a new job my husband took.
I gave up everything. The hardest thing was giving up my job. I loved it. It was everything I ever wanted in a career. I began teaching about seven years ago after I went back to school with my husband's support. So, in the end, I would have never been a teacher had it not been for his supporting me in quitting the job I had at the time and making the money for me to go back to school.
Now, I am sitting in a rented apartment half the size of the home we own in our old community, with no transportation, trying to keep myself from eating myself into oblivion.
I am trying to put on a good face, and I am enjoying this as much as I can, but again, I have no means of getting myself out of this apartment hell hole!
The apartment is really not that bad. There is a workout room and a pool. The most difficult part of all of this is just pulling myself out of this stupor and not feeling sorry for myself any more.
So I ahve really made an effort to get out and do something active, take a shower, and look good for myself.
Now, however, just when I am getting into a pattern and learning to live the life I have, I have to go back to the state we moved from. I am in a friend's wedding.
I made the flight reservations before we moved, so I was still feeling nostelgic and thinking I would really want to go back. Now I just want to stay here, or go there for the weekend and come right back, but I will be there for ten days.
I do not handle change or stress well at all. I flip out easily, I shout, and I get angry. I must find a way to vent these frustrations. When I get back from this trip, I am signing up for a personal trainer. I am also going to look for a dance or activity class.
I have options, I just feel like they are on hold until I get back from this trip and that bugs me. I just want to stay here, keep rolling on and get my kid ready for school.
Ok, so now that I have vented I feel a bit better. Thanks!
I gave up everything. The hardest thing was giving up my job. I loved it. It was everything I ever wanted in a career. I began teaching about seven years ago after I went back to school with my husband's support. So, in the end, I would have never been a teacher had it not been for his supporting me in quitting the job I had at the time and making the money for me to go back to school.
Now, I am sitting in a rented apartment half the size of the home we own in our old community, with no transportation, trying to keep myself from eating myself into oblivion.
I am trying to put on a good face, and I am enjoying this as much as I can, but again, I have no means of getting myself out of this apartment hell hole!
The apartment is really not that bad. There is a workout room and a pool. The most difficult part of all of this is just pulling myself out of this stupor and not feeling sorry for myself any more.
So I ahve really made an effort to get out and do something active, take a shower, and look good for myself.
Now, however, just when I am getting into a pattern and learning to live the life I have, I have to go back to the state we moved from. I am in a friend's wedding.
I made the flight reservations before we moved, so I was still feeling nostelgic and thinking I would really want to go back. Now I just want to stay here, or go there for the weekend and come right back, but I will be there for ten days.
I do not handle change or stress well at all. I flip out easily, I shout, and I get angry. I must find a way to vent these frustrations. When I get back from this trip, I am signing up for a personal trainer. I am also going to look for a dance or activity class.
I have options, I just feel like they are on hold until I get back from this trip and that bugs me. I just want to stay here, keep rolling on and get my kid ready for school.
Ok, so now that I have vented I feel a bit better. Thanks!
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Words
Having the opportunity to be around young people all day also provides me the insight into their vocabulary use, and I must comment on the lack of understanding they posses regarding hurtful and hateful words.
Walking through the halls of this school is often accompanied by an assault on my ears. Slut, whore, ho, and bitch are the most popular ‘terms of endearment’ for freshmen girls to hurl at their friends. The boys are much less imaginative and typically call each other fags or gay.
What is going on? Please, if there is one piece of knowledge you transfer to another human being in your life time, let it be that words have impact and meaning. Once a word is spewed by an unknowing, uncaring person, it cannot be reeled back in. It is out there forever, and like the toothpaste you carelessly squeezed, in excess, onto your brush this morning, it cannot be put back.
Walking through the halls of this school is often accompanied by an assault on my ears. Slut, whore, ho, and bitch are the most popular ‘terms of endearment’ for freshmen girls to hurl at their friends. The boys are much less imaginative and typically call each other fags or gay.
What is going on? Please, if there is one piece of knowledge you transfer to another human being in your life time, let it be that words have impact and meaning. Once a word is spewed by an unknowing, uncaring person, it cannot be reeled back in. It is out there forever, and like the toothpaste you carelessly squeezed, in excess, onto your brush this morning, it cannot be put back.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Here I am...
For a long time now my husband has been telling me I should write a book about etiquette. Recently I offered to throw a bridal shower for a friend, and as a result have found myself more than frustrated by her (as well as others) lack of knowledge with regard to etiquette, or just common courtesy for that matter. So, here I am bringing you the blog on everything from etiquette and common courtesy to just plain common sense. Also, I am sure there will be a rant here and there, as that seems to be in my nature.
Welcome to my blog. Thank you for visiting, and I hope you’ll come again.
Welcome to my blog. Thank you for visiting, and I hope you’ll come again.
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