Scooter Ride

Last night we went for a family walk around the block.  Well, a partial family walk.  The older two stayed home so the Tall One, Ranger, Pixie and I took the dogs out.  The girls rode their scooters.  

A few months ago I had taken to hiding Pixie's scooter because she was so terrible at it that a 100 yard walk took 30 minutes and always ended with me carrying a scooter (is there a comfortable way to do this? I always end up banging myself in the leg no matter how I carry it) and a crying 3 year old.  Not fun. 

But, last night I was in a good mood and decided that after hours of practice in the driveway we would attempt for her to scooter around the block.  And Tall One was along to carry the scooter if it all fell apart.  We rounded the first two corners with no problems as Tall One and I talked about how much better Pixie was on the scooter and watched Ranger perform tricks on hers.  Then, right as we stop to talk to a neighbor there is a crash and a cry.  

Somehow, standing still, Pixie had managed to fall and hit her eye.  Our dear neighbor gets a bag of ice, but in the way 3year olds have, Pixie refuses to actually put the ice on her swelling eye.  We’re talking about a cut on her eyebrow and abrasions under here eye and a black eye forming as we watch. We offer to carry her home but she wants to ride the scooter.  I gotta say that my heart swelled a bit with pride.  

That’s my girl- not stopped by busted eye.  Mommy finally let her ride that scooter around the block and she is NOT giving that up.  

We did stop by another neighbor’s house for a quick medical consult that she didn’t need any stitches, and then all the way home.  We washed it out and put her to bed.  She was asleep before Tall One left the room.  We hope to make family walks a habit but I could do without the drama.  That will never happen- not in our house.

Labels

Labels

So, so often I hear parents say they don’t want their child labeled.  Drives me batty. Everyone has a label- either self proclaimed or given by others.   Great reader, polite, bookworm, troublemaker, athletic, funny, and so on.  The parent who says, “I don’t want my child labeled” is lying to themselves.  

You child already has a label.  

Do you want it to be, “Child whose parents are in denial” or “Child whose parents won’t get her the help she needs” or “Child who has so much potential but his parents’ pride gets in the way”???  If an educational professional is counseling you to pursue special education services for your child DO IT.  Get the testing, get the information, learn everything you can about your child and how he learns and what you can do to support that.  A label of Learning Disabled, Autistic, Dyslexic, Apraxia, Developmentally Delayed, or any other string of the ABC’s is just a search term to look up on Google.  Its just a name to give you direction in finding support and guidance for helping you child. Bring on the labels!  

Bring on the acronyms and committee meetings and new vocabulary to learn.  Your child will be labeled and categorized by her strengths and weaknesses, whether you are conscious of it or not. So be conscious of it- be proactive.  Listen to the teachers, childcare providers, and friends who tell you that your child may need some additional support or may learn in an atypical way.  

A label merely provides you a handle to hang onto as you navigate the educational system. By being a participant and advocate in the special education system, you and your child participate in choosing a label and have ownership of it.  Empower your child to claim his label and love it! 

Introductions

So here I am, going out of my comfort zone.  I've joined the masses and am blogging.  For purposes of annonimity, I've decided to use our family "camp names."  In Girl Scouts, when you go to camp, you are called by your camp name.  At the end of camp, other campers try to guess your real name. So, to introduce us:

Me- Buttercup (can you guess my favorite movie?), wife to the Tall One, mom to Ya-Ya, Sparky, Ranger, and Pixie.  Current stay-at-home mom working to create pockets of peace in our crazy life.

Tall One: My mom told me to marry him after the first date.  She said he had height and musical ability and we needed that in our family.  And here we are 22 years later celebrating our 17th wedding anniversary with 4 children.  He is a hard working hubby who loves loud music, coffee, and being goofy with the girls.

Ya-Ya: My first born.  11 and just finished 6th grade. She is taller than me, wears a shoe size bigger than me, and we can share clothes. What??????   She is a huge help and I'd be lost without her.  She loves to read and I mean  ALL THE TIME. 

Sparky: She picked this name because she loves the fire when we go camping.  But the name says so much more.  She is 9 and a rising 4th grader.  Her mind is constantly on overdrive and she amazes us with her vocabulary and ideas.

Ranger: My only blondie at 6 years old- she was given the gift of coordination and strength like no other.  She has boundless energy and a kind heart.

Pixie: Our bonus baby.  She may be only 3years old, but trust me, she thinks she's 11.  If those big sisters can do it, so can she.  Best snuggler in the house.

Molly: 14 year old beagle.  Only another beagle lover can understand living with an old beagle.  She is stinky and messy and drives us batty but she's ours. I always tell our children she an example of how we show unconditional love, because nothing else explains her survival in our house after all the trouble she causes.

Shastie: our 8? year old mutt.  Easygoing and smart and tolerant of the lopsided cuts I try to give her every summer.

Midnight, Sugar, Spots- our 3 mice.  Yes, I PAID to bring mice into our home.  We got them from a local rescue organization.  Can you believe there is a rescue for mice?  They've turned out to be my favorite pets.

So, now you've been introduced to us all.  I've been kind and gentle, presenting us all in our best light.  Keep reading the blog and I'm sure the truth will come out.