I always heard that the month of May with a high school senior was busy, but I never really believed it... until now. The last few days have been so busy that blogging has not been a priority. Catch up posts are coming... Sunday? Monday? Soon... Here's a preview list:
Yea! It's over. One of my least favorite days of the year. Why? Well, I think it's sad that we dedicate one day of the year to treat a person the way she ought to be treated every day. One day out of a year to be kind, helpful, appreciative, etc? Rather than "Mother's Day" perhaps we should have "Treat Mom Like Carp" Day so all the other days can be "Mother's Day". Okay, off my soapbox...
Just because I don't adore Mother's Day doesn't mean that I get ignored on Mother's Day. This year I got just what I asked for...
A couple of weeks ago, I got the dreaded phone call- it was time to redo Miles' IEP for the 2013-2014 school year. I hate this meeting. So far my experiences with these meetings have been less than positive. It's me, his teacher, the speech therapist, the occupational therapist, the adaptive PE teacher, and the principal sitting around a table. I get to listen while they tell me all of Miles' deficiencies (and hopefully some progress?). Thus far, the negatives have far outnumbered the positives. The child that is presented to me by the teacher and therapists is not the child that lives with me. Yes, he's withdrawn, quiet, anxiety riddled, but I've never believed that his deficiencies were as severe as the professionals believed. For example, last year, I learned that my child who learned to jump at 15 months was incapable of jumping. My child's language was essentially unintelligible (yes, there's a delay there, but the bigger problem was that he didn't feel connected to his teachers/therapists, so he refused to "perform for them". I dread the "updates". Today, I was hopeful, but not expecting much. I left the meeting floored. Miles has reached benchmark across the board. Each therapist commented how much progress he has made in the past few months. They commented how much they enjoy working with him. He actually doesn't qualify for services any more, but once admitted to early intervention, one stays in the program until kindergarten. Once more year! His goals for the next school year include writing his first and last name with correct letter formation, spacing, and sizing, improving his socialization skills, adding more adjectives and pronouns to his language usage, a better understanding of prepositions, and stepping forward with the left foot while throwing a ball overhand.
Ummm, maybe not. Yesterday I was out in the back and I heard scurrying noises coming from the BBQ. Being the brave woman that I am, I sent Dan out to investigate; meanwhile, I grabbed a camera. Dan opened the BBQ, and here's what we found inside...
Nolan's final band concert of the school year was on Thursday. He played a lot.
He played with the Concert Band...
Miles likes to label things based on the sound of the first letter of what they are. However, he doesn't say, "What start with ___", he says, "___ says." This morning Miles woke up and the first thing he said to me was, "B says." I replied, "What starts with 'B'?" Miles said, "Boogers!". I agreed with him and suggested that "boy" also starts with the letter "B". Miles laughed and joyously added "and barf and burps!" Such a stereotypical gross little boy.
Last week, while driving on State Street through American Fork, right in front of a TechnaGlass, Smack! Something hard pegged my windshield. A star shaped rock chip appeared. How ironic that it happened right in front of a windshield rock repair shop... could they be sabotaging the area with the hopes of drumming up some business? Anyway, on Monday I went to a different TechnaGlass to get the chip filled. The guy at the shop said it would fill without a problem. I paid $20 for the repair.. Leaving the shop, it appeared to me that the chip had started to spread while the guy was filling it. Yesterday I took Nolan to his trumpet lesson. He got out, shut the door, and I heard two pops... I now had 2 "spider leg" cracks in my windshield. It now has to be replaced. So glad I paid to have it fixed so I didn't have to replace the windshield. Today I was looking at the service contract and while the repair isn't guaranteed, it does say that if the repair fails, they will take the repair cost off the windshield replacement bill or refund my money. Guess where I'm going tomorrow? Back to TechnaGlass, not for a replacement, but for a refund. Here's to hoping they'll give me my money back without a hassle.
Without a doubt, lilacs are lovely. However, I hate them! Last week I commented, "The lilacs are about to bloom." I was right. How did I know? The clues- watery eyes, itchy eyes, runny nose, sneezes, constant dull headache. Hay fever. The lovely flowers that don't love me. Fortunately, they have a short blooming season!
And lest Nolan feels left out of today's blog posts, he gets his very own post. 'Tis lacrosse season again; Nolan's team continues to compete against giants. But Nolan doesn't care and isn't intimidated. He still thinks lacrosse is a lot of fun and is proud of all his bruises...
This year the THS Wind Symphony qualified for State Concert Band Festival. They received a Superior rating! It's been a long time since a THS band has done this well... if ever!
Playing Valdres...
I hate going to the post office, but today it was necessary. I was rewarded though! I went to the PG post office. Next to the Center Street Orem post office, the PG post office is my least favorite- long lines, weird patrons, weird staff with overly helpful Lael (who makes mailing a simple package a complex process with every possible mailing option available with every add on offered presented) and strange "Mountain Man" with the British accent. It's always an adventure; one I prefer to avoid. So I got to the post office. First, I was happy because it was nearly deserted, two clerks and only 2 people in line ahead of me. The lady in front of me provided entertainment for me. While standing in line, she "shouts" out, "Steven, how much is it to mail a letter to Mexico? Is it $1.05 or $1.10" She was told it was $1.10. Then she drifted off to daydream land and refused to go to the available clerk, who finally had to shout, "Next please" to snap her out of Fantasyland. She walks over to the "Mountain Man" clerk, hands him an envelope, then the transaction went as follows:
Lady: This goes to Mexico.
Mountain Man Clerk: (looks at envelope) This is addressed to Belgium.
Lady: I don't want it to go to Belgium. I want it to go to Mexico.
Mountain Man Clerk: But it's addressed to Belgium.
Lady: Steven, will you take a look at this?
Steven: It says Belgium. Did Robbie get transferred from Mexico to Belgium?
Lady: No. This letter needs to go to Mexico.
Steven: Well, it says Belgium.
Lady: (gives Steven a long hard look, then turns to Mountain Man Clerk) Fine. Mail it to Belgium then.
So odd. It was really funny. I want to know who she was mailing a letter to in Belgium when, as she insisted, the letter needed to go to Mexico. Perhaps the Nigerian email scams have be relocated to Belgium...
Miles has a new trick- he can skip. He thinks it's a pretty cool method of transportation.
Today has been one of those days where I've been easily bothered. For example, the sound of a certain 4 year old sitting on the kitchen table picking his nose is enough to make me want to throw up. The volume of a certain someone's voice is like nails on a chalkboard. The insincerity of another person made me want to smack them a good one. It's been a day where nothing has gone too wrong, but I'm bugged by everything. I should put myself in time out. In Hawaii. For two weeks. At least.
The day did start off with an adventure though. At 5:30 this morning, I staggered into the kitchen to make the daily pancakes only to find the pot that I cooked ravioli in last night sitting on the stove full of (now cold) water and waiting for me to do something with it. I took it over to the sink and, unceremoniously dumped the water out and was planning on putting it in the dishwasher. However, my reaching for the dishwasher door was halted as I realized that the water that I dumped into the sink didn't "sound" right. Perplexed, I put the pot down and opened the cabinet under the sink. Somehow the hose connecting the dishwasher and the disposal sink was disconnected and the water I'd just poured down the sink was now running out the hole where the hose was supposed to be and all over the inside of the cabinet. There was a nice wet mess to attend to and a plumbing repair to deal with all before dawn. Ugh. The repair took 2 minutes; the water clean up took a bit longer. I'm still wondering how the disconnect happened. Perhaps it's a life allegory-often we don't notice disconnect a little at a time, but instead, all at once, and at that point, there's a big mess and quite a bit of effort is required to fix the problem. Wow. That's quite the deep thought. Waxing philosophical... Or maybe it was just a past due April Fool's joke played by one of the boys.
