Welcome Back, Baby!

Due to some unexpected events, my school attendance has been sporadic this week.  I have been at school just enough to confuse my kids and make them wonder why on earth their ever-present teacher has been MIA.  Apparently, my Talker has developed her own (and very incorrect) explanation for my absence and has felt compelled to share it with several people. Here's how my conversation went with her today:

(I walk through the door)

Talker:  Ha!  I found you!

Me:  Ha!  I found you!  Hi Talker!

(gives me a very inappropriate hug)

Me:  One armed hugs.  Remember?

Talker:  Darcie at doctor?

Me: Yes, I've gone to the doctor.

Talker :  Darcie has baby in her stomach!  She go to doctor!

(very pleased with herself for solving this great mystery)

Me:  Ummm...no.

Good night.

 

Does anyone have any idea how I can fix this one?

At the risk of being sued for slander...

I recently received a Facebook message from 6YearMed.

She told me that she had listed something on Craigslist.

She didn't tell me what she listed.

Soon after, I saw this story on the news:  

FBI: Woman sought hit man on Craigslist

Hmm...kind of makes you wonder...

On an unrelated not, in celebration of PBS's Jane Austen extravaganza, I am passing on the link to find your most Suitable Suitor.  Each Sunday night they are playing one of her films, and it's pretty much wonderful!

Inclusion, Part 2

After several threats, bribes, and stern lectures, my Talker and I ventured to the world of second grade music class and here are some realizations I had

• Second graders are so tiny, especially when they are scared sitting next to a 5th grader doing her happy dance.
• My talker attended the school we visited before switching to our school, and she apparently is a legend.  I was very unprepared to hear students say, "Is that (insert Talker's name here)?" "She's back!" and "Oh man, do you remember her?"  What can I say-she leaves quite the impression.
• The "Push It Out" song really wasn't such a great idea, I'm realizing.  What seemed like a great strategy in the privacy of your classroom quickly becomes embarrassing when you have to sing it in front of a bathroom full of little girls.  Although the alternative of wet pants was much worse.
• I have a little more influence on this girl than I thought.  Before we left I told her that I wanted to be proud of her and that she must behave.  Halfway through the music class she asked, "You proud of me?"  That made my anxiety about this inclusion fiasco pretty much worth it (and I was proud of her).

One trip down, eleven more to go.

Girls Gone Wild

Each January a local all boys Jesuit high school sends around ten of their students to our school to complete their senior service project.  The boys stay about three weeks, and each one is assigned to a classroom.  This year our classroom had the good fortune of getting one of the volunteers. Keep in mind that four of my five students are pubescent girls, and do you remember how squirrelly girls act in middle school?  Now take the squirrelliness of those middle school girls and remove the filters and inhibitions that people without mental impairments have, add in the fact that the hottest boy in school is a wannabe thug with Down's syndrome, and you will see why this high schooler looked so good to them.  I have been on hormone patrol for the last two and a half weeks.

Here are some of the funnier moments I experienced:

• My girl with Down's, out of the middle of nowhere, runs over to our volunteer and starts kissing him all over his neck, leading me to shout "No kisses!  Remember, no kisses!  We can only blow kisses!"  while prying her arms off of his neck. Not kissing in school is something we have been working on ALL year.
• Every single morning upon seeing our volunteer, instead of saying "hi,"  my Talker would exclaim, "Ha!  I found you!!!"  She'd then run and give him a too-long hug while I reminded her that we only give "one arm hugs" at school.  It was like she'd been playing a long game of hide-and-seek all night and finally found who she was looking for.
• I just had a student (I'll call her "T")  return to school after a two month absence due to a medical procedure.  She only speaks a couple of words and phrases: "one ear," "come here," and "mama."  She also makes a "mmmmm" noise when she eats, like people do when something tastes wonderful.  T is quite the diva and arrives to school fashionably late each day.  Her first day back to school, she walked in, laid eyes on our volunteer and went, "Mmmmmm!"  Her aunt, who drops her off and is a character herself, said to me, "You better tell that boy to watch out."
• My Talker likes to act like she has a difficult time remembering names.  We're always having to remind her to say the name instead of  "Hey girl" and "Hey teacher."  When we say, "What's my name?" she'll respond with, "I forgot."  I'll then give her a reminder of the letter sound the name begins with, like "D-d-d."  If she's on the ball, she'll respond with "D-d-d-Darcie!"  It's pretty much become a game.  She started the name forgetfulness with our volunteer and would say, "Hey boy" or "Where's that boy?"  I'd correct her with, "What's that boy's name?"  One day she responded with, "D-d-d-Matt!"  

Inclusion updates Thursday or Friday!

Who Knew You Could Base a Trip Around Coffee?

 

Thank you, Seattle.

She'll Be Coming Round The (Walton's) Mountain

As some of you may know, one of my resolutions this year is to have a more gentle spirit, and one of my role models for this is Olivia Walton. Laugh if you want, but I am being completely serious (watch all of Season 1, and you'll fall in love, too). I have yet to move to a mountain or start reproducing, but in my pursuit of Olivia Walton-ness I have been trying to spend less time online.   Somehow I just don't picture this woman hunched over a computer typing a new blog post.  

Blogging can be wonderful.  It's a great way to stay updated on friends' lives, creatively express yourself, and get a myriad of opinions on a plethora of subjects.  

But removing myself from the blogging realm for a few days spurred my thinking as to why we (namely I) blog.  Do we blog because we sense a sort of community we are unable to attain in real life? Is blogging "real" life?  Can true community be found online or is it community that is made up people putting their best foot forward hoping to be liked?  Can true authenticity be found online?  

Those are mainly rhetorical questions I have, but please feel free to comment if you'd like. 

On an unrelated note,  the "Push It Out" song is becoming quite the hit at school, partially because my talker sings it ALL the time.  This song could be my big break into becoming the next Dr. Jean!

(if you know who Dr. Jean is before clicking the link, you deserve a prize)

Potty Mouth

One of the most unglamorous aspects of my job is the amount of time I spend in the restroom with my students. All but one need either supervision or assistance, and at the risk of sounding pretentious,  there are many times I wonder why on earth I spent four years going to college when standing in the restroom does not require a degree.  Then I realize that when I have thoughts like that I need to be humbled.  But I digress....

My talker has some major bathroom issues.  That is, she doesn't like to go.  I think most of the time it's because she doesn't want to miss anything going on in the classroom, but the excuse she uses is "I scared." It takes  a lot to coax her into the bathroom and even more to get her to actually go once she gets there.  One trick that seems to work is a little chant my aide and I came up with that makes us sound like we're on a twisted version of "Bring It On."  It goes a little something like this:

Push it out, push it out

 P-U-U-U-S-H it out

Push it out, push it out

P-U-U-U-S-H it out

Push it to the left

Push it to the right

Push it out, push it out 

With all your might

And I wonder why people just look at me like I've lost my mind when I tell them work stories...

And because I have an awful time figuring out how to end my posts, I'll end this one with

Inclusion, Part 2

After trying to set up the music class inclusion for three days now, I finally was able to speak with someone.  I have to meet with the principal of the school we will be visiting on Friday to "discuss concerns and set down some ground rules."  I'm not going to lie, I'm a little scared.  Oh, and we're going to an elementary school.  Second grade will never be the same.

Inclusion, Part 1

Today I learned that I will be delving into the world of inclusion.  In theory, inclusion is a wonderful thing.  It teaches social skills to students with special needs in a natural setting and helps them move toward a less restrictive environment.  Inclusion also benefits the "normal" students by exposing them to those who are different than themselves and teaches them compassion and acceptance.  But remember, I said "in theory."

Most of the students at my school do not participate in this due to the nature and severity of their disabilities.  When a student does participate, we try to insure that they can behave appropriately in public.  Attitudes from the community toward those with disabilities are often poor, so we try our best to be a positive example instead of confirming negative stereotypes.

But I guess some fall through the cracks, like my Talker.  I just discovered that her parents and former teacher decided she needed to be included, and in order to be in legal compliance with her IEP, she must complete several hours of inclusion in a local middle school's music class by the end of February.  If you've read some of my past entries, you will know that this student does not have a history of "appropriate." When I went to schedule our time in the music class, I was informed that some higher ups need to be contacted before I obtained permission from the music teacher to attend her class.  Apparently my Talker was so inappropriate in her previous inclusion experience, that she was asked not to return to the school.  No one would tell me exactly what happened (it must have been pretty scarring), but I think it involved a table and some hip gyrations. Heaven help us all.

I'm sure my inclusion experience will provide many stories (and many traumatic memories of those awkward middle school years), so keep tuning in for updates.

On a completely unrelated note, I would like to welcome all of my Ragamuffin visitors!  Thanks for stopping by!

Seriously?

Transitioning between activities is difficult for children with disabilities, especially those with autism.  I try to follow a set routine to help with this, but more times than not, it falls apart by lunch.  I try to pull it back together around the time to go home, but no matter what kind of preventative measures I take, the last fifteen minutes of the day are always chaotic. Inevitably, there is some sort of situation that demands my attention-someone has to use the bathroom after we spent ten minutes putting on coats, hats and gloves, someone tries to take Poo Poo Bear away from my talker, someone decides to put all of the clean dishes in the dirty sink to "wash" them, etc.

One day a couple of weeks ago, amidst the madness, one of my therapists attempted take a picture of what she called my "friendly teacher face" for the class picture schedule.  Instead, she captured my "I'm-trying-to-be-nice-but-seriously-why-are-you-bothering-me-ten-minutes-before-the-kids-have-to-go-home-and-I'm-trying-to-get-them-ready" face.

Today, I am making the same"I'm-trying-to-be-nice-but-seriously" face when I think about going back to school tomorrow.  I couldn't have asked for a better break, but must it be over so quickly?

::EDIT:: My students plotted a wonderful a wonderful plot for me.  Apparently they realized that I needed to be eased back into this whole school thing and only one of them showed up today.  Bless them!