Perspective from a B Day
A window into what's going on behind the MS mask and brian pain scowl; A day in the life of an IH-er.
On more than one occasion in my life, it has been brought to my attention that not everyone thinks like me. Through careful listening and observation, I know this to be true. The old me got into college in the seventh grade. I read my first chapter book with no pictures in first grade. My second grade school had a library with wondrous books about these things called atoms and elements that bonded together to form the world around us. My calculus professors marveled at the unique ways I'd solve their problems. I could walk up on a group of men taking a break from hours of trying to get the window glass back into a car door, see how it needed to be done and slide it right it. It sounds like bragging, but I really thought I was just being useful. I saw a problem and wanted to help. To me my gifts seems so natural, I never thought I was anything special. Age brings wisdom. I am now able to embrace my uniqueness and see how all our gifts compliment each other to form a beautiful tapestry. Where as I used to feel my place as a willing servant meant I was beneath everyone else, I now see us all as seconds only to our Creator. We are beautifully unique and equal. I carry this new insight into this new facet of my life.
It has recently been brought to my attention again to be careful my words are not misunderstood. I have some A days, mostly B days, and a few "sick" days. But what those mean to me may not be the same as my audience. Let me clarify that at no time is the care of myself nor my son in question. We are in no danger. If at anytime I think, or those close to me think there is a problem, we will not hesitate to take appropriate actions. And so I clarify.
B days I revel in my time with my son and the 2-3 weekly social obligations to which I intentionally commit myself. The three things (you'll quickly realize three is my favorite number. It's how I see things in our world arranged.) I've got down is math, honoring commitments and mothering. Now, I am imperfect like the rest of the world, but I will toot my horn about these. So I will describe my B day compared to A days and sick days in relation to those three.
Math
On an A day, I can look at a trig proof and immediately see the line of logic. I fill spare time reviewing old Calculus books and refreshing impartial differentiation. I can solve an easy level Sudoku puzzle on my phone in 64 seconds, a medium level might take upto 3 minutes. No notes. No mistakes. That would be cheating. On A days, I ROCKED the classroom. I could apply, extend, and enlighten seamlessly and effortlessly. Kids learned to love math and look forward to class. It is one of the things I miss most, interacting with those young minds and showing them, yes, they can accomplish anything they set their mind to do. I nailed that season of my life.
On a B day Algebra 1 is my limit of proficiency. But I would not be able to teach secondary math like I used to, nor would I be reliable to be fully present every class of everyday. But my son's first grade lessons are a joy. We have a lot of fun with the Math U See curriculum I chose for him (the man who wrote this is a genius...just saying). Easy Sudoku may take 3-4 minutes. Medium I can usually get in 5-10min. As "sick days" approach I know. Sudoku becomes harder. It takes longer. I make mistakes. Until finally I don't even want to look at screens.
Sick Days are rare and almost always only a day at a time. We still get our math lessons done, but I usually opt for a review type activity with which he will need little guidance. I am not able to give freely of myself. It requires effort.
Commitments and Mothering
I have been accused of hanging onto a commitment longer than is healthy. Thank you, God, for good therapists. But my parents impressed upon my that once you make a promise, you do everything in your power to honor it. Knowing that, I commit to a minimum of 2 social interactions a week. One is a women's Bible study. It's a wonderful small group that is flexible and gracious about my current circumstances. They love me for who I am and where I am. They are my sanctuary. It is selfish in that it is purely for me. Yet I am a better mother for it and my son gains more confidence in his abilities and builds trust beyond me in my absence. The second is Friday co-op classes. My son gets to choose up to four classes to attend that interest him and get classroom experience. He gets unstructured (but "sidewalk supervised") socializing during the free lunch/ playtime 1 1/2 break. I get friend time too. Triple bonus.
On a B day, I do those no problem. Often we do Wednesday park days and field trips with our home school association. My favorite was the video conference call to the Alaska wildlife preserve. We meet up with friends and play and hang out. We do scouts, fish, camp, learn about archery, BB guns, and slingshots together. We play in the rain, build levies along the curb. We build sandcastles and climb trees. It all depends on how high functioning of a B day it is. We live. We laugh. We love.
Sounds pretty good. And it is. Because I love him, he is my priority. So yes, it hurts to move my eyes or lower my head below my heart. But I wouldn't miss sharing in his life for anything. I push past the pain and fatigue for him. An A day would be with out these and more. We wouldn't just read about Montezuma conquered by Cortez. We reenact it from both perspectives. Then we'd pack a lunch, get our map, and explore our own neighborhood but being careful to respect the local culture. We'd collect pond water to take home and look at under the microscope. We'd do daily experiments instead of just weekly hands on + Brain Pop virtual exploring. We'd build a spinal column out of toilet paper tubes and rubber bands. We'd do schooling to the extreme. But like too much icing, maybe it's good to have a few fanfare days sprinkling the solid core.
Part of that solid core is prepping, always prepping. Having the next day ready, knowing the whole week's schedule, the whole semester's scope, the whole year's goals, the following years' extensions. It is this advanced planning that gives me a fall back for sick days. I'm still present. I'm still nurturing and caring. But I am not ashamed to admit I do review activities for the core 3 tools of learning (reading, writing, arithmetic) and Netflix, Leap Frog books/videos, Wii Fit, and Brain Pop for the 3 fields of exploration (science, social studies, and languages) and the 3 fields of expression (arts, movement, and communication). Screens are the exception rather than the rule. Not ideal, but it gets us through a low functioning day.
These are not absolutes, but generalizations. There are days in between. There are fluctuation throughout the day. But always, ALWAYS, my son is very well cared for. It's hard to help people understand. If you enjoy an occasional movie, then you must be exaggerating your screen sensitivity. If you can home school your son, you should be able to teacher full time. If you're accepting your son's challenge to Just Dance, your light sensitivity induced sunglasses wearing two hours earlier was just for pity. And the scowl you sport isn't from the brain pressure pain, you're just holding back pent up hostilities toward them. Um.....the great thing about memory issues is I couldn't hold grudges even if it had been in my character previously. I can't remember ever being angry with anyone for more than the flash of the moment. I'm a deal with now and move on type of gal. Makes life way easier.
But I digress. This is about understanding the day to day life of an IH-er. Life is different now. Not different bad, just different. Accepting the permanence of the disability has been the hardest for me but facilitated so much internal growth. I no longer cook with my stove or oven without another adult in the house. But I have a microwave, a coffee maker, toaster, and crock pot that all turn off automatically. I've learned to adjust. I function. It takes longer and requires more effort. It's not the glory days of past. But I function. I've accepted this new season of my life. I've embraced it for the lessons it must have for me to learn.
So, don't pity me. But don't judge me either. Just like I don't know your plight, you haven't walked my path either.
No worries. I am loved. I am forgiven. I am blessed. And for today, I am enough.
As a man that I once cared very deeply about used to say, "It's all good."
Peace and Love to you and yours.
On more than one occasion in my life, it has been brought to my attention that not everyone thinks like me. Through careful listening and observation, I know this to be true. The old me got into college in the seventh grade. I read my first chapter book with no pictures in first grade. My second grade school had a library with wondrous books about these things called atoms and elements that bonded together to form the world around us. My calculus professors marveled at the unique ways I'd solve their problems. I could walk up on a group of men taking a break from hours of trying to get the window glass back into a car door, see how it needed to be done and slide it right it. It sounds like bragging, but I really thought I was just being useful. I saw a problem and wanted to help. To me my gifts seems so natural, I never thought I was anything special. Age brings wisdom. I am now able to embrace my uniqueness and see how all our gifts compliment each other to form a beautiful tapestry. Where as I used to feel my place as a willing servant meant I was beneath everyone else, I now see us all as seconds only to our Creator. We are beautifully unique and equal. I carry this new insight into this new facet of my life.
It has recently been brought to my attention again to be careful my words are not misunderstood. I have some A days, mostly B days, and a few "sick" days. But what those mean to me may not be the same as my audience. Let me clarify that at no time is the care of myself nor my son in question. We are in no danger. If at anytime I think, or those close to me think there is a problem, we will not hesitate to take appropriate actions. And so I clarify.
B days I revel in my time with my son and the 2-3 weekly social obligations to which I intentionally commit myself. The three things (you'll quickly realize three is my favorite number. It's how I see things in our world arranged.) I've got down is math, honoring commitments and mothering. Now, I am imperfect like the rest of the world, but I will toot my horn about these. So I will describe my B day compared to A days and sick days in relation to those three.
Math
On an A day, I can look at a trig proof and immediately see the line of logic. I fill spare time reviewing old Calculus books and refreshing impartial differentiation. I can solve an easy level Sudoku puzzle on my phone in 64 seconds, a medium level might take upto 3 minutes. No notes. No mistakes. That would be cheating. On A days, I ROCKED the classroom. I could apply, extend, and enlighten seamlessly and effortlessly. Kids learned to love math and look forward to class. It is one of the things I miss most, interacting with those young minds and showing them, yes, they can accomplish anything they set their mind to do. I nailed that season of my life.
On a B day Algebra 1 is my limit of proficiency. But I would not be able to teach secondary math like I used to, nor would I be reliable to be fully present every class of everyday. But my son's first grade lessons are a joy. We have a lot of fun with the Math U See curriculum I chose for him (the man who wrote this is a genius...just saying). Easy Sudoku may take 3-4 minutes. Medium I can usually get in 5-10min. As "sick days" approach I know. Sudoku becomes harder. It takes longer. I make mistakes. Until finally I don't even want to look at screens.
Sick Days are rare and almost always only a day at a time. We still get our math lessons done, but I usually opt for a review type activity with which he will need little guidance. I am not able to give freely of myself. It requires effort.
Commitments and Mothering
I have been accused of hanging onto a commitment longer than is healthy. Thank you, God, for good therapists. But my parents impressed upon my that once you make a promise, you do everything in your power to honor it. Knowing that, I commit to a minimum of 2 social interactions a week. One is a women's Bible study. It's a wonderful small group that is flexible and gracious about my current circumstances. They love me for who I am and where I am. They are my sanctuary. It is selfish in that it is purely for me. Yet I am a better mother for it and my son gains more confidence in his abilities and builds trust beyond me in my absence. The second is Friday co-op classes. My son gets to choose up to four classes to attend that interest him and get classroom experience. He gets unstructured (but "sidewalk supervised") socializing during the free lunch/ playtime 1 1/2 break. I get friend time too. Triple bonus.
On a B day, I do those no problem. Often we do Wednesday park days and field trips with our home school association. My favorite was the video conference call to the Alaska wildlife preserve. We meet up with friends and play and hang out. We do scouts, fish, camp, learn about archery, BB guns, and slingshots together. We play in the rain, build levies along the curb. We build sandcastles and climb trees. It all depends on how high functioning of a B day it is. We live. We laugh. We love.
Sounds pretty good. And it is. Because I love him, he is my priority. So yes, it hurts to move my eyes or lower my head below my heart. But I wouldn't miss sharing in his life for anything. I push past the pain and fatigue for him. An A day would be with out these and more. We wouldn't just read about Montezuma conquered by Cortez. We reenact it from both perspectives. Then we'd pack a lunch, get our map, and explore our own neighborhood but being careful to respect the local culture. We'd collect pond water to take home and look at under the microscope. We'd do daily experiments instead of just weekly hands on + Brain Pop virtual exploring. We'd build a spinal column out of toilet paper tubes and rubber bands. We'd do schooling to the extreme. But like too much icing, maybe it's good to have a few fanfare days sprinkling the solid core.
Part of that solid core is prepping, always prepping. Having the next day ready, knowing the whole week's schedule, the whole semester's scope, the whole year's goals, the following years' extensions. It is this advanced planning that gives me a fall back for sick days. I'm still present. I'm still nurturing and caring. But I am not ashamed to admit I do review activities for the core 3 tools of learning (reading, writing, arithmetic) and Netflix, Leap Frog books/videos, Wii Fit, and Brain Pop for the 3 fields of exploration (science, social studies, and languages) and the 3 fields of expression (arts, movement, and communication). Screens are the exception rather than the rule. Not ideal, but it gets us through a low functioning day.
These are not absolutes, but generalizations. There are days in between. There are fluctuation throughout the day. But always, ALWAYS, my son is very well cared for. It's hard to help people understand. If you enjoy an occasional movie, then you must be exaggerating your screen sensitivity. If you can home school your son, you should be able to teacher full time. If you're accepting your son's challenge to Just Dance, your light sensitivity induced sunglasses wearing two hours earlier was just for pity. And the scowl you sport isn't from the brain pressure pain, you're just holding back pent up hostilities toward them. Um.....the great thing about memory issues is I couldn't hold grudges even if it had been in my character previously. I can't remember ever being angry with anyone for more than the flash of the moment. I'm a deal with now and move on type of gal. Makes life way easier.
But I digress. This is about understanding the day to day life of an IH-er. Life is different now. Not different bad, just different. Accepting the permanence of the disability has been the hardest for me but facilitated so much internal growth. I no longer cook with my stove or oven without another adult in the house. But I have a microwave, a coffee maker, toaster, and crock pot that all turn off automatically. I've learned to adjust. I function. It takes longer and requires more effort. It's not the glory days of past. But I function. I've accepted this new season of my life. I've embraced it for the lessons it must have for me to learn.
So, don't pity me. But don't judge me either. Just like I don't know your plight, you haven't walked my path either.
No worries. I am loved. I am forgiven. I am blessed. And for today, I am enough.
As a man that I once cared very deeply about used to say, "It's all good."
Peace and Love to you and yours.