Genius Jeffy

Jeffy can identify letters...most of them, actually. He's 22 months old. So it appears that while he may be a little behind physically, mentally he's pretty stinking smart. Here's a fun video showing off my genius little man.

Meme too

So I didn't know these things were called "meme's". But I LOVE them. And I think Sherry tagged me, but I could be wrong...I'll go for it anyway.

Eight Things I'm Looking Forward To:
1. Visiting my family in Victoria, BC
2. Getting my stinking classroom finished so I can officially be done for the summer
3. Sleeping through the night (sigh)
4. My next trip to Starbucks
5. Watching Harry Potter with the fam
6. Eating Peanut M&M's with milk tonight
7. My next date with my husband
8. Seeing my dad again

Eight Things I Did Yesterday:
1. Went to church
2. Took a nap with Kadee Joy
3. Waited a looooong time for one meeting to finish so that I could....
4. Go to the second meeting.
5. Went to Youth Group
6. Got punished at Bingo
7. Had an outstanding dinner (thank you Pam)
8. Had a late night "discussion" with Chris and Charlie

Eight Things I Wish I Could Do:
1. Have a conversation with my son, Andrew
2. Understand what my husband means the first time he says it without immediately feeling defensive (ENFP + ISTJ=frequent miscommunication)
3. Speak Spanish fluently
4. Take less time to get comfortable enough to call someone "friend"
5. Be completely debt free (I'm working on this one)
6. Go out in public with Andrew and not have him run
7. Have a clean house ALL THE TIME
8. Be able to eat WHATEVER I WANT without worrying about the sodium content

Eight Shows I Watch:
1. ABC News
2. West Wing (reruns)
3. FRIENDS (reruns)
4. Seinfeld (reruns)
5. Wipeout
6. Dora the Explorer
7. BackYardigans
8. Max and Ruby

Eight Favorite Fruits:
1. Blackberries
2. Kiwi
3. Grapes
4. Honey Crisp Apples
5. Green Apples (with caramel)
6. Raspberries
7. Strawberries
8. Huckleberries

Eight Places to Visit:
1. England
2. Ireland
3. Hawaii
4. Mexico
5. Germany
6. Israel
7. Italy (been there, but I'd like to go back)
8. Spain (been there, but I'd like to go back)

Eight Places I've Lived:
1. Reedsport, OR
2. Newport, OR
3. Toledo, OR
4. Siletz, OR
5. Dinuba, CA
6. Tillamook, OR
7. Kirkland, WA
8. Nampa, ID

Benign

Biopsy results came back benign. Naturally a huge relief. Thanks all for your prayers.

Prep Teacher

In the eyes of a many of my colleagues at my elementary school (when I say many, I mean about 75%), my main function in life (at least at school) is to give them a 45 minute break.

At least, that's what I feel at this particular moment in time. It's not so much that it is actually true (I really don't know that), it's just some wording they use that makes me think that.

For those of you who don't know, most contracts give teachers a mandatory break in the day in which to prepare themselves for upcoming lessons. This time is called "prep time." I have a prep time...it's right around lunch, but it's still my prep time.

But the majority of the other teachers at my school, when the kids come to my classroom, they are sent to "preps." Not music. Not PE. Not art. Not computer. "Preps." As if the only good I am to them is to provide them with their prep time. And not just teachers. Administrators. EA's. The kids themselves. They catch on very quickly.

I am a certified teacher. I went to college for four and a half years to complete a five year program to become a music teacher. I have a Bachelor's Degree specifically in music education.

I have a Master's Degree in Education. I worked very hard right up until the day before I delivered my first born to get that degree.

And yet, it seems to me that the 45 minutes I see students once a week is valued very, very little. Well, let's be honest...the fact that I see these kids only once a week for 45 minutes shows how really little a music education in general is valued. But, as far as those 45 minutes go it seems to be valued very little, at least as far as opening up the world of these students to the beauty, art, intelligence, and magnificence of music. It's value is in giving their teachers a break.

I don't think it's an "enrichment" subject. I don't think it's froo-froo. I don't think it's something to just give the kids some "fun time."

I have 45 minutes once a week to try and give the students of my school a music education. This is an education that I feel is worthwhile, important, and for some students will be absolutely life saving to their education. I have 45 minutes in which to expand their vocabulary in MANY languages. I have 45 minutes to allow them to work on unity of sound, watchfulness of subtlety, creative expression in dance, joy in improvisation and in the successful interpretation of a piece of music, a chance to look through a window into the soul of another human being through his or her music. I rehearse, correct, praise, and teach. I am responsible for taking an entire grade level and teaching them a variety of songs, instrumental techniques, performance etiquette, stage safety, and basics of musical vocabulary, most of which is in Italian.

So please don't call me a prep teacher. I really do work very hard to give your students an actual education in music. If you just need a babysitter, there are actually many cheaper and less meaningful ways of providing you a 45 minute break. I really do worry sometimes that if there was another alternative to me as far as giving consistent prep time to regular classroom teachers, I would be booted pretty quickly. I take up one whole FTE. And man, is that expensive childcare from a school perspective.

And yeah, I mind when you keep your kids out of my class to catch up on other work. And I do mind when you ask me if they're doing anything "important" today. And I do mind when you could care less about the time of day that would work best for the kids to try and absorb my subject in a 45 minute class time.

And I really do get that you're under the gun to get test scores up. And I really do get that to the majority of politicians and administrators, getting their math and reading scores up is more important than them having a meaningful music education, or making sure that their kids are in shape, or tapping into their creative energy and working on ways to expand their skills as artists.

But seriously...we question that philosophy in every way possible on a daily basis...don't let it diminish the importance of what we, as individual subject specialists, are trying to teach your kids. There are no standardized tests on music, PE, art, computers...but don't let that skew your view of the importance of any of them.

No really...I don't like being called a prep teacher. :) And I don't think you like it when parents view your role as little more than free daycare. So don't treat me like I'm that for you. I will gladly take your kids during their designated time because frankly I really, really enjoy what I do, and I really, really want to teach them. And I will continue to respect what YOU are doing in teaching them your respective subjects. And I will try to remember that ALL of us, want what is best for kids.

And thank you much to the teachers who send their kids to specials, to music. Thank you to the teachers who care to be on time, who care what their kids do, who who care what their kids did while there were there, because that is a reality too. The difference in attitudes of the kids is very much a reflection of the teachers who bring them.

And don't get me wrong...I know you need a break. I know you need time to prepare. If we were honest, you generally use a whole lot more than 45 minutes to prepare to teach 20-30 uniquely diversified individuals on a variety of levels. And so do I.

Sadly, I realize to most readers, and maybe even most teachers, it just really doesn't feel like that big of a deal. But to me, in my chosen profession, in this moment in time, it is. Because I am a dying breed...and generally the deaths come out of the same attitude that refuses to acknowledge me for what I really am...a teacher of music. A teacher of kids. And someone who genuinely loves her job and tries her best to make sure that the education these kids are receiving from me in my subject area is one of quality, and one that they can take with them for the rest of their lives.

Biopsies

During a routine female exam, my doctor checked my thyroid and found it to be, as she put it, "full." Bloodwork came back normal, but she still wasn't totally okay with the way the thyroid actually felt. So I went in to get an ultrasound on my thyroid. Turns out I have three solid nodules on the right side of my thyroid. I went in to my ENT yesterday and found that out. He wasn't particularly comforting, and let me know that I would need to have a fine needle biopsy done on all three nodules to rule out cancer.

Chances of them being malignant? 5-10%. It depends on who you ask. My percentage goes up based on my age, the fact that the nodules are solid and not cystic, and the fact that I don't exactly have a good family history with cancer.

My mind has been preoccupied with it for the past 24 hours. It's not that I fear cancer, or even death...it's just the not knowing that's dominating my thoughts. Chances are they will simply be benign, and I'll just have to watch them for the rest of my life.

But all the same, if you could keep me in your prayers, I would be most appreciative. I get the biopsies done on Tuesday and then find out the results however long after that. My nurse was good enough to tell me that if the results were benign, they would tell me so over the phone and then schedule an appointment to see what's next. If they were not...well, they'll just call me and tell me to come in. I think it would have been better if she'd told me that she would just call me when I needed to come in and discuss the results. :)

Oo-kay?

So Chris and I go to marital counseling. No, we are not in a marital crisis. Yes, we were in marital crisis the first time we went. We went another time in between then and now as well.

Counseling was ALWAYS something that had a negative stigma to me. I figured only really screwed up people went to counseling. When I was a kid, I knew of only a couple of kids who went to counseling, and I always thought badly of them. Judge me if you will.

Of course, after you get married you realize how futile arguments seem to become after multiple failed attempts at reconciliation. Pre-marital counseling didn't feel like real counseling...everybody has to go if they want to be married in that particular church. But after a couple of years, I wanted to go to marital counseling with Chris. A whole bunch of friends in my bible study went with their spouses, and I was sure this would be the end-all be-all to my marital frustrations.

Chris was not so open to the idea. He had had his own experiences with counseling as a child after his parents' divorces and subsequent remarriages to other people. I don't think he looked back on them fondly.

Another three years later, we found ourselves smack dab in the middle of marital crisis. "Divorce" was being thrown all over the place, I was severely depressed. It got to a point where I ended up in personal counseling, which quickly turned into marital counseling.

While the first several sessions did very little to help our marriage, the sessions after the truth came out about why we were actually in marital counseling were life changing. I am still amazed at the progress and healing that came about as a result of marital counseling, and it was definitely a good healthy mixture of the amazingness of our counselor, and both Chris and I's persistent work on the things we so badly needed to work on.

Recently we've been going as more of a preventative type thing. We still have issues (don't all married people though), and we've enjoyed the first few sessions.

However...A funny and sort of "huh?" moment came out of it.

At the end of a particularly soul-bearing session, our counselor stopped talking, and so did we. She looked at both of us and said, "You know, if you guys hadn't had your faith, you would have been divorced a long time ago. I have never met two more polar opposites in marital counseling than you two. Your communications styles, personalities, everything are all completely opposite of each other. Steph, you're "slow and steady wins the race" and Chris, you're "fast and.......jumpy."

I thought the fast and jumpy part was funny. The rest was a little disheartening. My "half-glass empty" brain started going, "Is she saying that we SHOULDN'T be married? That we never should have been married? That marriage for us will always be incredibly difficult?" I drove home with those same thoughts zooming through my head.

Chris had class later that night, and was getting ready to go, when he noticed I was looking pretty down. He came over to me, pulled me up, and gave me a big hug. "Did the stuff our counselor said make you upset?"

"Yeah...," I said, the tears starting to come down again.

"Well I think it's a good thing," (my "glass overflowing" husband said) "and you want to know why?"

"Why?," I said, in my most pathetic voice.

"Because it means that we're not just both being incredibly selfish! The stuff we deal with is just because we're so different! Don't worry, honey, we'll make it." And with that, he gave me a big kiss, another hug, and fed me dinner. :)

And that is where I think that while we are indeed polar opposites, God has been and will able to work through us and our marriage in mighty ways. Because, as our counselor pointed out, were it not for Him, there would be no way we could be here, in our home, with our beautiful kids, and recognizing His mighty power to work miracles...including helping two polar opposites have a happy marriage.

Yaaaayyyy!

I know it's sideways, but the day has finally come that we thought never would....

He's 20 months old, almost 21...but he did finally do it. Yaay, Jeffy!

"I'm Wishing..."

Andrew LOVES movies. He'll get on a movie kick and stay with the same movie for weeks. Lately it's been "Snow White." And while he still can't hold a conversation, he can memorize a song like it's nobody's business. Here's his latest musical triumph, accompanied by Kadee Joy and sometimes loud Mommy.

Failure to Thrive

So after being denied for Medicaid...again...We're going the Katy Beckett route. This route can provide Medicaid to people who make too much money, but who have children with severe enough disabilities. I think it's funny that the government thinks we make too much money with my lone teacher's salary.

Amid the mass of paperwork is the Physicians Evaluation. Today, Chris took the boys to our pediatrician, the wonderfully empathetic Dr. Copeland.

As I read through the long medical history of both my boys, my eyes caught the words "Failure to Thrive" on Jeffy's evaluation. Our rheumatologist was the first to use these words when referring us to the neurologist. Jeffy is in the 1st percentile for weight. I knew he was small...I just didn't realize he was that small. But then again, as I took him out of his evening shower (he loves them), I was able to carry him easily in my arms, just as I always have, just like a newborn baby. He is so tiny.

I also had the strange thought that I sometimes get that wonders how I would have reacted had I, before children, before marriage, looked into the future on this day-what would I have thought about the words that stuck out?

"Motor Delay"
"Expressive speech delay"
"Failure to Thrive"
"Metopic Craniosynostosis repair"
"Sensory Integration Disorder"
"Autism"

My beautiful boys.

What has invaded their bodies and minds, bringing these upon them? And what has my own part been in them?

I feel some days, like today, that Andrew was robbed of his mind, and Jeffy was robbed of his body. I see these words and scoff at my own naivete that assumed my children would be completely healthy, without flaw, without pain. That I could hold conversations with them...that I could make them understand me...that they would grow up, graduate from college, marry, have children...without even a thought about just how many thing have to come together for life to work like that. But this is foolish thinking, weak thinking, negative thinking...For the time being I would be excited for my dear Jeffy to walk without pain...or even just to WALK, for Andrew to tell me how he feels, or to care how I feel.

But in the meantime, I will seek all the help for them I can. And I will remember what I already know...that these labels come nowhere close to defining my sons. My Jeffy, with his beautiful big brown eyes, infectious giggle, and funny little gait. My Andrew, with his irrepressible joy at the unseen, his songs, his dances, his amazing strength, and his warm snuggles.

And so I look forward to the day when we will all be restored from our weak earthly vessels into our new heavenly bodies, and where we may all understand and be understood.

Bleh.

It's Thursday, the day before Good Friday, and I'll admit that I'm pretty nauseous.

Chris had class tonight and I had choir practice for the Good Friday service. Chris' 17 year old brother Charlie moved in with us yesterday, and so we worked it out that he would go with Chris' older brother Rich to his house for the evening while Chris went to class and I took the kids with me.

So Chris, Rich, and Charlie all left for their respective places, and I started to make a little dinner for the kids and I. And five minutes later, Jeffy puked all over himself, the kitchen floor, and some of the carpet in the living room. SICK.

He's acted pretty miserable since then, although the upchucking has ceased. You'd think I'd be used to the ill bodily functions by now...but gross churned milk vomit is still a point of weakness for me, and I've been on the edge since the aforementioned puking.

It's been another week of change. We're feeling very positive about Charlie coming to live with us. He, his parents, and Chris and I all reached the point at relatively the same time where this particular change in living quarters seemed to make sense. So we are hopeful that Charlie's prospects will come into clearer view, and that he will find strengths and opportunities that will help grow him into the man God so lovingly desires him to be.

Jeffy's playing the piano right now. I'm pretty sure he's going to be the artistic one in our family. We can set him down with a Magna Doodle or in front of a piano and he'll be content to create on either for much longer than any normal 1 year old.

Kadee Joy decided to increase her mother's overall amount of patience by testing it the other night. She had been begging me to be allowed to chew a large wad of that gross, cheap bubble gum that comes in the huge packs of candy. So, finally, I assented. She wanted to take a bath, and Andrew did as well, so I piled them into my jacuzzi tub, poured in the bubbles, and left them for two minutes.

Apparently, two minutes is all you need to get a wad of gum stuck in your brothers hair. Mind you, it was in her mouth. Still not quite sure what she was doing to get it into his hair. Andrew had quite the mane when this happened, and the gum was so big that it turned his scalp into quite the disaster. Needless to say, after working on it for a while, the decision was made to cut Andrew's hair. Chris was at class, so the task fell to me. Andrew did not appreciate it, and Kadee Joy was sent to bed.

I must say that I don't think I've ever seen a more pathetic hair cut. And now the poor boy has a cold sore. All in all, he looks like a very sad little fellow. Kadee Joy is still apologizing for it. I had to cut the hair around the gum shorter than the rest, so he has a little bald spot to add to the pathetic effect. Ugh.

So now I'm hoping that Chris will get done with class early and come relieve me of the baby boy and his puke. It doesn't seem to matter how much I clean him...the odor lingers.

I had another dizzy spell yesterday, right around the time my kindergartners were set to come in. My team of specialists (teachers, mind you :) once again came to the rescue and took my classes until a sub was able to come in. I came home and slept for five hours. Sleep really does seem to be the only way of abating the symptoms once a spell has started.

Alright, Andrew wants to shower, and let's be honest, he needs to. Off to the races again.

I don't want to play anymore

My adventure with the withdrawal of my anti-depressant took a sharp turn downward this morning. I think I was working on day 5 without it (remembering, of course, that the tapering off has been going on for several weeks) and felt like I was doing well.

Then Chris was late getting back from the store, making it so that I missed the hair appointment I had scheduled for this morning.

And friends, I cried, and I cried, and I fell asleep, and I cried, and I did the dishes while I cried, and I took another nap, and I cried.

Naturally...my crying had very little to do with my hair appointment having to be rescheduled. But I certainly created a fun morning for my husband and children. It got to the point where I started trying to come up reasons for why I was crying. And when I spoke them aloud, they sounded even stupider than they had sounded in my head.

So, I took my dose of anti-depressant. Apparently a week is still too long to go without. It was horrible, although luckily my poor husband was able to deal with it fairly cheerfully, and got a lot of outside work done while I sobbed over the household chores.

On a not all that less slightly irritating note, Jeffy went into to the pediatric neurologist on Thursday. After being in the office for an hour and a half, we were told that it didn't appear that there was really all that much wrong...at least from a neurological standpoint. He became the fourth doctor to suggest physical and occupational therapy, which we've been on several waiting lists for for a few months now. He had nothing to say about the high rate of inflammation in Jeffy's body, other than that area was not his area but rather in the area of the rheumatologist who had referred us. Oh bother.

My great grandmother also passed away this week, so instead of going to Women' s Retreat, I will be flying over to Oregon to attend her memorial. I'm bummed about missing Women's Retreat, but really there was no thinking about which was more important. My grandmother's house (at least, where she lived before being put in a wonderful home for seniors needing assistance) complete with a beautiful garden, waterfall, and forest as her backyard, has always been the closest thing to heaven I have found on this world.

Back to work was up and down as well. I had some fantastic days with my kids, but some classes that were simply out of control. I'm looking forward to summer now...In my heart and mind in can't come fast enough.