4 June 2010
Two days away from WI and in the middle of hot, steamy Brooklyn with the dearest person in the world and my mind is cleared. Thank you, David! I needed a break. NYC is intense. Of course, it is. Cheshire is intense. Ditto. But the energy around us is once again alien to me. How can I say it without sounding New Wavy weird -- I am at home here, I am very new here. The underling rhythm of the place changes my clock back to a very recognizable time. Like hearing a waltz for the first time and physically knowing that the tempo of 3 is your heart beat. Madison is a wonderful place, and the first place that I have loved since NYC, but like a second love, it suffers, if just a little bit, by the glow of first love.
Two days and I remember and I shake myself awake. I see better from a distance.
Julia was sick yesterday with a fever, and probably an ear ache. David had to stay home with her which was not what he had planned. I had moments of guilt. She has not been sick at all this year -- maybe one day in the winter. David is not used to spending days with purpose with her.
I am sure they did fine and that Julia had a wonderful time with Daddy. Her favorite!
Julia's class did a play on Wednesday and Thursday. It was then that I posted on Facebook that it was tough to have a child different from every other. But, ya know, it is so not about me. She did so well, taking a great step forward by staying on the riser and in her position, albeit sitting, and even singing a few words of her flower song. She did not look at the audience, but sat picking a scab on her leg. Ok, do I paint too sad a picture. Can I announce being proud of such behavior? But before this she has not even been willing to be with the rest of the class. For her play her was. She came off the stage and walked down the aisle like everyone else. She beamed at me, like she had been the star of the show who had performed brilliantly. I stopped her and kissed her and told her what a good job she had done. And I meant it from my bottom of this heart.
I spent yesterday, Friday, in Cheshire's first grade classroom. She has 24 kids and could so use an aide in the class with her. She cannot stop and attend to one child, one emergency, one message over the phone, without loosing some control of the entire group. There are a lot of control issues buzzing around the class, there is one little boy afraid of life, a few girls who are 6 going on 25, no 30, and all sorts of attention getting behaviors. I am not sure how Cheshire does it. Having a year of teaching experience under your belt does not qualify anyone to do the best by anyone.
But watching these kids, who have not come from educationally rich homes (and that of course, is a grow generalization. Some of her students are quite evidently loved, cherished, and taught at home), and still in first grade they have learned to read and write, they can write sentences, they can add and subtract a little bit, some are thinking about multipication. When Cheshire says, do pages 99-104 in the math review book, they take out the book and do it. "How did you teach them that?" I ask. And I have an ah-ha moment about the reason to teach autistic children something that they are passionate about. Maybe, just maybe, tapping into a passion is about as close to normal brain work as Julia can get. Yes, I go from general to specific, but then everything I think about now regarding education is about Julia, is specific.
I see how behind she is when I look at this bunch of ragged Brooklyn kids, but, I tell Cheshire, that behavior-wise, she could disappear into this first grade class.
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End of Saturday
It is the end of Saturday. Today, Cheshire and I slept in a bit after a very late night. Ah, to come home a two in the morning and not have to be scraped up and put in bed. We went to the Great Jones Spa -- I had a hot stone massage and then the two of us hung out in the water room. There were water falls, a very active hot tub, a very cold plunge, and a sauna that I could not bear to be in for more than a few minutes. There were also relaxing chairs and chaises and groups of women of various sizes, celebrating and talking. All very friendly. Very informal. Something that we should all be assigned to at least once every two weeks -- maybe more.
We walked some of Union Square and then a wee bit of Park Slope and then had a late super with friends. In all, such a relaxing day. I have to take David to a spa like this somewhere closer to home.
At home, David said all was well.
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