Winkie has spring break this week. And I have been using the services of KumariAunty for an extra member of the family now. Its been 2 days and he's adjusted really well. In fact, he was quite excited to be going to Thambi's babysitting, and kept saying he couldn't believe he was going there. And I am just as taken with his innocence in finding delight in the situation, as I am with his flexibility in accepting it. Though somewhere inside I felt a little sad I guess, that he would probably get a little bored, and not be gainfully employed (ugh!), so I would pack him little things in his bag, so he would have something to do, besides play with 2 small kids. And thus, cursive writing books, dot to dot puzzles, a small notebook with math sums which I wrote in, and his Ramayana all found a way inside his regular school backpack alongwith his snack and lunch.
But it looks like I needn't have worried, either about him being bored, or of not being gainfully employed! For he found a guru for spring break.....a mentor twice his age, and an angel in every sense of the word. Kumari Aunty's son was also home for spring break, and rather than immerse himself in video games, or behind a paperback, or TV, or go off to play with his friends, this young pre-teen has taken it upon himself to tutor my son everyday. And its not just any random taking-under-the-wing giving of dictations or reading etc. It is a well thought out, resourceful, planned, professional enterprise, which just pulsates with dedication and involvement.
When I stepped into the house to pick them up, this young and handsome angel appeared at the door, with a sheaf of papers in his hand. Once his mother was done telling me what the boys ate and all that Thambi did, he stood next to me, and started talking. He had surfed the internet using google, located and printed out age appropriate worksheets, covered a range of areas, right from spelling, to reading poems, to math problems and more. The first leaf of paper contained a summary of the work they had done together, and it was dated, everything was sequentially laid out, and words like beginning sounds, word recognition, alphabet fun & reading readiness greeted my stunned eyes. Moreover, he had signed himself off as teacher and Winkie as student! In the pages that followed, all the work was laid out, and my eyes popped out when I saw that he had taught him the technique of double digits counting!! OMG!! He had graded each workpage with his stars and comments, he had even stamped little birds as a fun recognition for the little guy's work. Observing my amazement, he said that he would be working with him in this manner everyday.
!!!!!!
My admiration and appreciation for his efforts must have been in my eyes, for he blushed a little as I thanked him in no few words. He even commented that Winkie was a very good reader and was definitely above kindergarten level, which was the stamp Uma had made on him when she graduated him from her school. And coming from this guru too, I was immensely grateful and happy.
And beyond the immediate happiness of Winkie having constructive pursuits, which I could not immediately provide to him and learning new things, the real happiness lay in something else. In all this process of parenting, we, and by this I mean our generation of parents, invest so much of our thoughts to how we should bring up our children. We read parenting books and take peer advice and think through every decision we make, however small, for the effect that it will have on our kids. Sometimes, we overthink, over analyse, and overkill the more flowing and harmonious act of just being with our chidren. But we mean well by it. We want a happy, well adjusted, well rounded kid at the end of the day who will be of some value to society. In the process, we lay tremendous guilt on ourselves, when the littlest thing goes wrong. Beyond society and professional experts, we are the ones to lay sole pressure on ourselves to do better, be better, give better, always under the shadow of that ever lurking fear....that somehow we may end up psychologically damaging our children in some way. This is our fear is it not? I know that it is mine.
Today, and through incidents like this, my faith in myself and all of us as parents, and children is restored. When I see a young boy, on the threshold of being a young man, utilising his time off from school to be a loving mentor to a little kid, whom he has no obligation to give the time of day, I feel that this world is right. A 100 things may go wrong, and tragedies abound everywhere causing despair, but one single act of unselfish, unknowing service is enough to tip the scales and restore the balance, and make the love outpour! His parents are simple people. They are the kind that work hard everyday, the husband at work, the wife at home, and they try and provide the best for their children. This much one can gather based on an instinctual assessment of a home situation. Beyond that, I see no more complicated efforts, as being made. And if such a simple everyday flow can bring out the best in a child (with due consideration to his innate nature, of course!)...then there is indeed hope for us all, isn't there???
His name in short is Vidya, and he is conducting himself as the very personification of knowledge, teaching Winkie double digit additions, and goofy games with the soccer ball, and me.....to hope.
[Insert to add the link for the workbooks he printed : TLSBooks]
The weekend saw me initiating Winkie to Free Willy. Its one of the products of Hollywood that I love, and when it was sold on clearance at our library, I picked it up, excited at the thought of watching it with Winkie. He was definitely intrigued that a killer whale and a boy could be friends, what with the whole 'killer' aspect. And I think he exhibited immense patience for the movie, given all he wanted to see were the interactions between the two of them, and for the part where Willy is set free. He chuckled happily when Jesse and Willy began interacting and the manner in which they struck a friendship. He looked forlorn whenever he heard that mournful sound that Willy made. It does sound totally torn and tears you up too. And he was completely riveted by that final climax scene, when Jesse exhorts Willy to jump over the wide obstacle of rocks out to the vast open ocean, where he would be finally be free and rejoin his family. That really was the best part of the movie, wasn't it?? I always have goose pimples when I see that scene.
Right after, when we were both swimming in that feel good aftermath of a fitfully happy ending, I asked Winkie whether he would like to draw what he just saw. And he said yes. Out came the sketch pens and recycled paper, and the sound of the chair being dragged on the floor, as he settled atop it and got busy. He drew two scenes from the movie....two of his favorite ones. The first one is that lovely scene, where Jeese and Willy are playing with each other in the pool. And the other, is the climax scene. And there's a story here. At first, he drew the boy standing on that bridge of rocks, and the fins that look like they are ramming into the rocks. When I looked at it, I told him it didn't look like Willy was jumping across it. So he modified it to show a whale, clearly in the air over the boy, who was hooting for him with a Horay Willy, and he declared that the original fins now belonged to Willy's mother who was waiting for him on the other side. I thought it was a pretty neat modification.
And with that, another weekend draws to a close. Another drawing gets filed into the folder that is spilling over with creative expressions. And another moment that we shared in peace and harmony, can be added to our string of memories!
Its Saturday, and I've cried bucketfuls all morning. My little one who was sitting next to me, looked at me in alarm and patted my hand thinking it was a booboo. I look at him and tell him I'm okay...I didn't get hurt...its only that my heart is full.
I've watched AbhiyumNaanum for the first time, and while I expected some histrionics, melodrama and an overkill on the father-daughter concept, I was in for a very pleasant surprise. What a lovely touching tribute to the relationship between a father and daughter. For that matter, what a poignant look at the birth and evolution of a parent and child. I am intensely touched. Whether it was the super cool way in which the father treated his daughter's first love letter, given how ultra protective he could be at all other times, or the cool sense of practical reason which peppered the mother's love, or the slightly irritated confidence with which the daughter says for the first time at 15, that she knows what she is doing....there was something in all of that for me to relate to.
But perhaps the most touching aspect of the story was the day, when as a girl of 10, she brought a beggar home because he lay faint from hunger, outside her school, and her heart went out to him. From that day forth, he was adopted by the family and became one among them. This is the story which reaches out to me the most....because it is a story of the human spirit, and pure love. On an anniversary, when the family was to go out to dinner to a fancy hotel, this new adopted member was also asked to go alongwith them, and when the girl spoons out a dish onto his plate asking him to eat it...his eyes become full, his emotions choke, and he looks at the father and says...this is my mother. There must have been a lights, camera, action to prompt that take, but the words and the feeling far surpass the medium of cinema, and touches you deep down. I am grateful that such a concept was born and seized creative interest, that people came together to give their energies to it, that it made it to viewing distance.
" Happy is he who still loves something he loved in the nursery: He has not been broken in two by time; he is not two men, but one, and he has saved not only his soul but his life. ~G.K. Chesterton"
The movie ends with a picture of a baby on a father's shoulder, with a line that says...Child is the father of man. Is that any new thought around here? :) Cliched as it has become, it is still true and there is living proof of it almost everyday. Children are living, breathing, walking 101's and we really start off being the dummies that need all the lessons. In the process of imparting values to them, we have to live with our hypocrisy many a times, knowing that we are still hopelessly flawed, yet...how can we stop preaching, what we must follow ourselves? Life has to go on, parents have to do what parents will have to do and love flows...mostly downwards.
There are a lot of disjointed thoughts which refuse to cooperate in coming together in a more orderly fashion. The aftermath of this lovely movie speaks and I feel like November 14thhas come a whole 8 months early. Today, R has gone in to work and its a full day for him, and he will be back only in the evening. That leaves me and my boys....me and my two children. And I think its time once again....to grab the moment...and make it count!
It is my job in my office, amongst many other duties to write a thought for the day everyday. My boss gave me this pleasurable task, knowing all about my writing aspirations. And I must say...I enjoy it quite a bit. The first thing I do after entering the office is take off my jacket, boot the computer and get out the whiteboard. Some prior research would have already taken place earlier in the morning for what should go on it next. And I try to alternate between ligth quotes and more intense ones. Between a theme and a random pick. And something relevant to the day, or time of month, or season and so on. And when everyone else comes in, one by one...they make time to stop by and read what I have written. There is almost always a smile, a slight nod of the head, a point of relation, and hopefully...some inspiration. Its one of the most fulfilling aspects of my day, each day. And today's thought for the day reads like this...
Weekends are a bit like rainbows; they look good from a distance but disappear when you get up close to them.
I don't know about weekends, but I already had a glimpse of that elusive rainbow this morning. For the first time in 3 weeks, since I started working, Thambi managed to wave a cheery goodbye, instead of the tears and the unwillingness to stay back. Hallelujah!
On that note....wishing you all a wonderful weekend splashed with all the rainbow colours possible!
Since this interesting question by Winkie raised some interesting responses, I thought I would document the conversation we had on this.
Me : Do you remember that question you asked me the other day about Hanuman? Winkie : Yes.
Me : Are you still wondering why he spoke in Hindi, even though he is in your heart? Winkie : Yes...why?
And this was the part. I told him the truth. That as a Divine Power, Hanuman probably knew all the languages, and was basically beyond them. That this was a movie made about Hanuman. That it was made in Hindi because the makers of the movie spoke a lot of Hindi, and thus projected this movie and in that language. If the makers had been Tamil speaking, they may have made a movie in Tamil. If the people who made the movie were from USA, it might have ended up being an English movie.
He chewed on this thoughtfully, and then slowly nodded his head. He seemed to understand. I had only meant to tell him this much, but unbeknownst to me, the conversation flowed.
Me : Why do we speak Winkie? Winkie : Huh?
Me : Why do we speak? Who do we talk to each other? Why does Ms. F talk to you guys in school? Why do you talk to your friend, Juan? Winkie : So we can learn new languages?
:)
Me : We talk to communicate right? To tell each other something...to discuss something...right? Winkie : Yeah!
Me : And do you know we can sometimes talk without even opening our mouth?? Winkie (face all scrunched up into this clown expression!) : Huh??? How can we do that???
Me : Think about it...think think think!
He seriously ponders on it for awhile and gives me answers like...with the nose, and with the brain etc etc, tittering loudly for each one.
Me : How about your eyes and your face? Can you speak with them, without opening your mouth ? Winkie : No! How can you Amma!!
Me : Let's try this...I am going to tell you something with my expressions, and you can tell me what I am saying.
I then proceed to demonstrate an angry face (it always comes on first anyway!), then a happy one, a sleepy one, a sad one, an excited one, a sulky one etc., and he guessed all of them correctly, thus understanding that facial expression can speak volumes, even if words never come out of the mouth.
We moved onto body language next, and he learnt that the body also has a language all its own, which needs no words. I gave him instances such as the time he shifts uncomfortably around from foot to foot and I know he has to use the bathroom. Or the time he flexes his muscles for me to show me that he is growing strong...or the time he rubs his knee gingerly, and I know that he is hurt there, or the time I gather him close for a hug, to show him I care. And the more I spoke to him, the more I realised how little spoken language has to do with our daily communication to the people around us.
I had all his attention right now and we did a quick synopsis of all that we had spoken about so far. And that could have been the end....only, my tongue was loose and I talked some more. An idea had begun forming in my head and I wanted to see how it would come out sounding to his 5 and 1/2 year old mind.
Me : Do you know that there are more than 1000 languages in the world? (Wiki quotes this figure as a staggering 5000-6000!!!). Winkie : Woooooooooooow!
Me : And do you think you can learn all of them?? Winkie : Noooooooooooooooo..!
Me : That's right! You can't. And not everybody understands everybody else's language. But there is one language in the world, just ONE language, that everybody knows and understands very well....do you know what that could be? Winkie : Hmmmmmmmm. *long pause with a smile*....I don't know....what is it?
Me : *pausing for effect*....its one language that every person in the world is capable of speaking and understanding, even you, and me and Appa and Thambi....do you know what that is??? Winkie : Nooooooooooooo...*looking bright eyed and expectant*...
Me : Its the language of LOVE Winkie. Its a language of the heart....we all know it, and understand it... Winkie : Wow! I didn't think of that! But how can love be a language....?
...and just as I started to answer that one, R's train rolled in. Winkie got distracted, and I lost MY train of thought. Which is just as well...because this is one loaded question...is it not???
Have you ever had a powerful sound moment in your life? The kind that you heard for the first time somewhere or heard often times in your life in the past, that somehow seeped down to your core and settled there, recalled from time to time as a wisp of unconscious thought, still reverberating with the vibrations from when it was first heard?? I have at least two of these kind of moments in my life that have stood out, which today, I find, are shaping the way I begin my day and treat myself...
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It must have been a Friday morning, and we all woke up early, showered and dressed to go to the Marundeeswarar Temple. It was the time when I was vacationing with a then 6 month old Winkie in Chennai. He was falling sick ever so often, with the customary wheezing, colds and viral infections, that my parents who were living in Bahrain then, had arranged for prayers and an offering at this temple. The presiding deity of this temple is Lord Shiva, the Divine Healer. Legend has it that He introduced Sage Agastya to the mysteries of herbal medicine. Hence the name Marundeeswarar (marundu meaning medicine, in Tamil, and Easwara meaning Lord Shiva.)
We reached the temple quite early, around 7:30 AM, and despite the rumbling in our tummies, offered prayers, circumambulated the shrine and then came back to the hall of the main sanctum sanctorum to wait for the doors to open after the adornments that were taking place inside. We were sitting, a little tired from the drop in blood sugar (we were there on an empty stomach), when the slow chanting began. A group of men and women worshippers standing behind us were chanting theMahaMrutyunjaya mantra. It was one I knew well, thanks to Tattha's particular teaching of it to me, and I have recited it myself several times. But this was the first time I was hearing this particular rendition of it. The voices rose and fell in harmony, the intonations, deep and calming, the soft female voices melding with the deeper baritones of the males, casting an effervescent glow on an early morning....
And on and on it went in this beautiful calming loop, filling the minutes of tired waiting, leading upto the opening of the shrine, with a palpable energy. It cast such a spell on me, that when the doors opened and everyone scrambled to their feet for the worship, I found myself quite disoriented and unwilling to come back to the reality. The sounds of their chanting have stayed with me for a long time, and I have searched for this particular way of chanting it (with the om saha...) many times on the internet, but to no avail. Then, this past Monday, I was looking on youtube, the resident pit stop right after google, for some Shiva slokas, when all by chance, I clicked on this chant and the familiar sounds wafted through. Imagine my delight...and the sense of deja-vu!!
But what was I doing on a Monday morning, searching youtube for Shiva slokas????
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When I was in school and had scores of studying to do, Pops always insisted that I sleep early and wake up before the break of dawn, at brahmamuhurtham, to study. And I did. As did Amma. She's one of those people that have woken up at this hour pretty much their whole life, in order to get started on her chores, that even today, when her work is a little diminished, her body will still rouse her at this hour and she cannot sleep past it. So she and I would wake up and the rest of the house would still be asleep. And while I pored over my books, rubbing my sleepy eyes every once a while, she would be pottering about in the kitchen, cooking fresh lunches and fresh breakfasts and the ritual coffees and teas. And while she went about her work, she would listen to her prayer tapes on her dusty red mini tape recorder. A thin coat of grease had settled on it from all the fumes of the cooking, but it worked and faithfully, played her the slokas, or the bhajans she asked from it. My bedroom was a long passage away from the kitchen and my door would be shut, but I could always make out the distant strains of the Sulamangalam Sisters' rendition of the MahishasuraMardhinistotram. For a whole year, when I was in the 12th standard and studying for the larger than life board exams, I was woken up by a pair of loving hands, handed a good cup of hot coffee and with the energy of that maternal touch, I ploughed through derivatives and Manjeet Singh guides, with the comforting notes of ayigirinandhini...playing faintly in the background every morning.
And with a sound as powerful as this shaping my life at a time when I was most malleable, it is no surprise that I would turn to the power and vibrations of these sounds once more, as I find myself struggling to rise at brahmamuhurthamevery morning, to start my own routines of making fresh lunches and fresh breakfasts and the customary rounds of coffee and milk for the sleeping household. In these early pre-dawn hours, youtube is my lovely companion, taking the place of that dusty old red mini tape recorder, faithfully playing whatever I ask of it, and performing the added task of searching for that perfect one, and offering me so many options to wade through and pick from....On Monday mornings, I listen to the mahamrutyunjayaand several other Shiva slokas. Tuesdays it is the Subramanyaashtakam or the KandaSashtikavacham. Wednesdays and its time for Ganesha Pancharatnam. Thursdays and without a doubt, it is HanumanChalisa(MSS version here). Fridays are for listening to this particular version of MahishasuraMardhiniStotram. I have yet to make a habit for Saturday and Sunday mornings, but perhaps from this week, I will.
Even now, at the other end of nostalgia, it is a wonder how a vibration, recalled from the days of childhood, had enough power to propel me towards discovering the source of the other, thus giving my action packed mornings, the kind of deep, soulful start that they deserve!
Winkie's recent fascination with the world of Karadi Tales, and the stories from Hindu mythology is having a cascade of effects in our lives.....in the content of daily conversations, in the quality of evenings spent and the bonds forged between two brothers.
Firstly, the questions. The deep thinking, often profound questions, a lot of them answered by his very self, when our own answers are not quite enough. Such as the day he had a throat irritation, and declared to me that he knew why it was paining. Why...I ask. Because Krishna is being naughty inside...he replies calmly, conviction in his eyes.
Or this question. Krishna is in Rama. Rama is in Hanuman. Hanuman is in Pillaiyar. So Krishna is everywhere? Yes....we reply. Then is Krishna in Krishna?
The other day, after he was done watching the Hanuman DVD, he came upto the table, a thoughtful expression on his face. Amma, Hanuman is in our heart right? Right...I say. Then why does he talk in Hindi? Why does he not talk in Tamil? I still have not found an appropriate for this one. I told him I would think about it and let him know.
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Summoning the astra, praying before its use and then....unleashing it!
There used to be a time when cricket was the game of every evening. After R came home, father and son would get out their bat and ball and immerse themselves in the intricacies of the game. Now...that is a thing of the past. Now...every evening after work, all the boys fight. Yes, fight. And these are not regular fights with guns and modern armaments. They are conducted in ways as ancient as the stories that have inspires these battles. The legendary confrontation between Rama and Ravana. Vali and Sugreeva. Shiva and Bhasmasura. And so on. Winkie, very obviously, assumes the role of the good, the mighty, the victorious. R is always the demon, the evil rakshasa, the one in the wrong. Mighty weapons are summoned to the cause. Powerful astras, mighty gadhas, a hangar used imaginatively as a bow to send forth the shower of powerful arrows. The evening noises in our home is a potpourri of sounds...... of the twang of the bow, the blow of the gadha, the thunder of the astras, R's deafening (attempted) roars as he falls to the ground, vanquished....Thambi's squeals of delight as he tries to get into the action himself. There is no question of enjoying a peaceful domestic evening, at the end of a long day, unwinding in a civilised manner....its all noise, action, and packed thunder, and its all I can do to make my voice heard when I declare that dinner is ready...
Even the littlest one in the house is not spared because of his littleness from this mythical world of good and bad. Every afternoon after Winkie gets back from school, there is some unspoken understanding between them as they head to the loveseat, and plonk themselves next to each other. Winkie would have inserted his CD, and the book will lay open on his lap. And the two will wait...for those first strains of the Karadi music to begin, and for the bear to begin his narration. Not a word is shared or spoken, but the sync between them is a very tangible thread, and at the precise point when the rhythmic opening music begins, their heads will start bobbing up and down delightedly, as they look at each other for cues and keep up with the music....in this shared enjoyment of a life beyond their own.
Wondering why this post looks like a collage of blog headers??? Because it is part of a sisterhood award. A sweet surprise was Sujatha's words and her thought to pass this on to me. It is always fun to read what someone you value thinks of your blog and your writing. And it made me think about some of the blogs that I value as well, which is something that I haven't done in a long time. So I want to take this time to correct that and let these lovely people know that their writing touches my life in the best possible way.
Sheela'sThe Joy of my Life, is always a sweet stop for me. And its oddly comforting because from time to time, she talks about the intense challenges of raising 2 young children in our eternal race with time. And when I read her feelings, I feel validated in my own. And I breathe a little easier that I am doing the best I can, as we all are.
This beautiful ethnic portrait belongs to Priya'sDreaming in Suburbia. She writes on a potpourri of subjects and the ones I connect with, with a deep sense of admiration are the ones where she talks about herself. They are clear, honest and incisive, and so touching.
Dottie needs no introduction. And half the time I leave no comments on her posts. But read...! Oh I read every one of them. She writes intelligently and I am always taken with the sophistication of her posts. She pays attention to detail and structures her writing beautifully. And together with her subjects, these aspects of her writing are a delight to experience.
, dear Ana! She fills me with affection, I don't know why. Here is a writer who can say a lot with so little. And her words have this magical effect of reaching out, touching your heart, and leaving you with a gentle thoughtful smile. Ana's a treasure!
And my dearest Gauri. I have a very personal stake in her blog, because I love those 2 kids of hers! And I had the pleasure of meeting them, albeit for a short and fleeting 1/2 hour this time in India. Witnessing them as a family together left a deep impact on me. Their warmth and mutual affection was so evident and what comes across on the blog is every bit a part of their real life!
It sounds so awkward to quote this as rules of the tag, because it is hardly that. But since it is customary to lay down the requisites, here are some guidelines for those who would like to use this opportunity to pass on the good vibes!
1. Put the logo on your blog or post.
2. Nominate at least 5 blogs which show great ATTITUDE and/or GRATITUDE.
3. Be sure to link to your nominees within your post.
4. Let them know that they have received this award by commenting on their blog.
5. Share the love and link this post to the person from whom you received your award.
He was woken up for the first time at 7AM. A second alarm was set for him 10 minutes later. It went unheeded, unheard even. So deep was his sleep. By the time I made it to the bedroom after packing all the lunches, it was 7:25. R was leaning over him speaking softly in his ear, trying to set the right note to his morning. I came charging in, all set to serve ultimatums, but on R's behest, I backed off, thinking all the while what to do. R carried Winkie into the bathroom, to brush his teeth, but was met with absolutely no cooperation. 10 minutes later, he gave up, walked off and left me to hand out the sentence.
I don't know when the morning routine morphed into such a power struggle. As a baby, he would wake up mega early and I would groan in annoyance. And now I long for those days! He sat on the counter, looking sullen and defiant. I am not going to get ready...he declared. He had just thrown me a gauntlet. On any other typical day, I would have lost my cool, and dragged him through his tasks. Today, I decided to walk away from it. I was in just no mood for a confrontation, and I realised, rather calmly, that if he had made up his mind not to get ready, there was very little I could do to make him. But I did fall back on a conversation I had had with Uma last week, when she had suggested that I could use her name as a little motivator for desired action.
Here's what I said. I told him that he still had an option to get ready. But if he didn't want to use it, he needn't. But since I had to go to work, I would drop him off at Uma Aunty's place instead. So, in essence, little boys that cannot motivate themselves and get to big boy school like all kids do, will have to go back to their old little kids' school. How about that? Well, I didn't say....how about that. It was never a question. Just a simple statement, which I had full intention of following through with action. It was an amazing moment of parenting, where I felt no anger, no panic, no ulterior motives to my words, and no manipulative instincts. It was just simple. If he didn't go to school, I would still have to drop him somewhere, and that somewhere would be his old school. Period.
He sat chewing on that. I don't think he believed me when I said it. I got ready. Thambi got ready. R got ready. Winkie watched all the while, thinking one of us would go to him, cajole him, help him, do his work for him and ultimately be out the door, like we always do. But nope. Today was turning out a wee bit differently than the usual play by play. Nobody even glanced in his direction, and I could see a bit of desperation creeping on his face. It was 8:00 and time to leave for the station. And that was when he said he wanted to brush his teeth!!! I coolly replied that he would have to do it only upon returning because now was the time to leave. That is why I wake you up early Winkie, and give you time to do all this leisurely...! This was my first sign of an I told you so...kind of statement, only, I remembered to make it a little kindly and not rub it in, like I would have been tempted to.
We left. He cried in the car. We let him. He calmed after a while. And on the ride back home, I started talking to him at length. I told him that I did not like to fight with him in the morning, that I wake him up early so he need not rush for anything. That I put him to bed early, so he can sleep. That if he does not want to help himself, it makes it very difficult for us to help him. That I love him. He listened to it all, quiet and reflecting. I decided and told him that if he could manage to brush his teeth, wear his clothes and drink a glass of milk, all within the 10 minutes we had left till the bus came, he could still go to school. Otherwise, I would have to....well, he knew this part well, alright!
We came home. He realised what a task he had set for himself. Having limited time handed out to him as numbers, really stresses him out. And instead of speeding up, he is ready to give up altogether. He whined for me to help him, otherwise he would miss his bus. But I had thought this one through. I hung back and just let him figure it out. With no assistance from me forthcoming, he finally understood that everything lay in his hands. With a newly born sense of purpose and urgency, he traipsed up the stairs, and got all his things down. Toothpaste and brush, clothes, milk, everything. And while I packed our things into the car, he got ready. He fretted in the midst of it many times. Nothing was done without the requisite huffing and puffing. I took the time to call Uma and quickly fill her in. The laughter was there in her voice as she heard me out and backed up my resolution of handing him over to her. I apologised for any inconvenience this caused her, but she brushed it away saying....anything for a student. He is anyday more important. So I'll see you when I see you...she said.
In the meantime, I was getting nervous. Suddenly, a lot seemed to be at stake. My hands were itching to jump in and just help him on with his clothes, and snap on his shoes and tie up the zipper, and it took all my self restraint to stand back and stay neutral. I reminded myself why I was doing this. It was important for him to live out the consequence of his difficult behavior. It was important for him to accomplish this on his own. At the end of the day, all this meant for us now, was that he would miss a day of school and spend his morning elsewhere. The stakes were so much simpler today, when he was 5 and 1/2, rather than many years down the line. So let him succeed or fail today, but let it be on his own, my inner voice urged.
It was 8:40, when he was all set to go. His bus arrives everyday by 8:37 AM. So did he make it? Or were all his efforts in vain? Was he meant to face the consequence like I had resigned myself to accept? Will this one day be forever etched in his memory, the way life lessons leave an imprint? The only question I cannot answer out of this is the last one, for only time can reveal that. As for the remaining answers....well, let me throw the floor open to you readers...you who know Winkie almost as well, you who have glimpsed his nature and his mind from time to time...you tell me what you think could have happened....and I'll tell you if you're right! :)
EDITED TO ADD
...It was 8:40, when he was all set to go. His bus arrives everyday by 8:37 AM. I looked at the clock with a sinking feeling, certain that the bus had already come and gone. I dreaded that moment of impact when Winkie noticed his empty stop, you know that crushed feeling that he would have....that sore disappointment of being left behind. All these things are sort of magnified when you are small, and its almost too much to bear. He raced outside and I followed him slowly behind. He stopped at the driveway and stared. 2 seconds later, I was at his side and I looked. And whaddaya know!!!! I see 5 little bobbing heads in multicoloured jackets, still waiting for their bus! Its never late, usually. This young man had gotten extremely lucky! He shot off before I could even say bye. He ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, his bag flying awkwardkly off his shoulders. He stopped midway and walked a bit trying to catch his breath, before shooting off again. And just as he reached the stop, the bus rolled around. He was the last in line to get in, but nobody would have thought he was this close to missing it. The triumph was truly his, and it felt every bit like mine. And I had to share this with the person who would understand my happiness right now. Actually, make that 2, but I called Uma first. He made it Uma!...I told her. She squealed in response and we both had a good laugh at the interesting morning. She said that her name had magic, in the way it created responses, and I couldn't have agreed more, though her name is the least of her magic. R laughed quietly at the other end, pleased with the outcome, and having the relief of a smile, now that everything had ended well.
Now, it is 7:00 AM, the morning after. 24 hours since all this excitement. And time to wake up the little buddy again....wonder how today will go...any guesses for that? :))
Its been exactly one week and I can already count my blessings w.r.t Thambi's new babysitter. Today morning, as I extracted Thambi's lunchbox out of his bag, cursing myself for not doing it last evening itself, expecting to see a smelly lunchbox, but it out came clean and rinsed. Wow! Just that one little small attention to detail is something that is unexpectedly touching and profound at the same time.
It took me back to when I was first about to enter her place just before our initial meeting. A big part of me was keyed up in the tension of how it would go, how I would find her, how Thambi would take to it, etc. And I had forgotten to pray! I try and remember to pray for even the little things, so its a huge oversight on my part to not pray before going to meet her. Anyways, I was holding Thambi's hand in mine and had rung the doorbell and was waiting for it to open, when my eyes darted up. And across the frame of the doorway, was a string of the plastic neem leaves, and just above it, a small picture of Lord Muruga. That was my formal reminder and I realised with a start what I had forgotten, and I just barely finished taking His name, when the door opened and I saw her face for the first time.
One week later, there are many blessings that have followed. One of them is the other little boy that goes there, and the sweetness of his disposition. Somehow seeing him gives me this incredible feeling of love and happiness. Such is this child's aura. Thambi still cries everyday when I drop him, but I know that he has stopped after I leave. His own easy nature, her confident handling, and this little boy's presence all make it work. When I go to pick him up, he is already ready, jacket and shoes on, waiting with anticipation. She will give me a detailed report of all that he had been upto and every little morsel of food he ate. It is of little surprise to me that he eats more at her place than he eats at home. The other day, he greeted me by name at the front door. Thanineethaninee... he squealed excitedly, holding his hands out to me. It had been her little surprise to me, teaching him to say my name all morning, so he could delight his mother with it by the morning's end. She's willing to continue his potty training and takes him as many times as he asks for, and he sometimes dupes her into taking him one time too many. I know because he's done that to me so many times at home, that I would have thrown in my towel at the end of it, refusing to go with him the next time! I am thankful that she prefers to wash him with water in place of using the wipes after potty time, because that is what I do at home, but wouldn't have thrust that on her, knowing it is not everybody's preference. Its little little things, but they ultimately induce that climate of understanding and trust that is so important in a caregiving relationship.
I had often thought as a passing observation, that I have always been lucky that first time that I ever looked for a caregiver. Winkie's first ever babysitter Anna was a first time find, and I had liked her very well. But within one month of his joining, she had to take a long India vacation. But she averted a possible dilemma by offering her best friend's services. And that best friend turned out to be the AnuAunty, whom I was heartbroken to leave, when Winkie joined his Montessori. Uma Auntyis of course a beautiful history that will, with Grace, repeat itself very soon in our lives. And now Kumari Aunty.
And no wonder, it is said that when angels visit us, we do not hear the rustle of wings, nor feel the feathery touch of the breast of a dove...but we know their presence by the love they create in our hearts.
This will not be one single cohesive post, but a mish mash of stuff that I want to put down!
First! The whole lunchbox issue! We still have not overcome that, and out of 5 days of the week, I can be certain that on 3 days, he will bring it back pretty much unfinished. Approaches attempted to lure him back to a finished lunchbox:
1. Reminder notes every once a while (worked on those days, but I couldn't be reminding him everyday.).
2. A threat I made good that he would have to eat the same thing for snack when he came back. (He just somehow did, and on other days, it looked so blatantly unappetising that I couldn't let him eat it!)
3. A promise to talk to his teacher and mention this so she would talk to him in turn. (He doesn't want to be singled out like this..)
4. On very desperate days, an ultimatum that he would not get lunch the next day, only raisins in his lunchbox. (He feels very deprived, so promises to eat.)
5. Talking to him about what he likes in his lunchbox and making sure he gets some of that every week.
And what is the BIGGEST excuse for not eating his lunch. Its because his friend Juan, talks to him all the time. And Winkie can't ignore him because he is his friend and that would be rude, right???
*sigh* This child knows how to turn the tables on me very well. But I do see his POV. I told him that he would just have to tell his friend that he would talk to him as soon as he finishes his lunch because he is really hungry!
Yesterday, with no other idea on how to tackle this, I called and spoke to my biggest Winkie-counsellor...Uma. First off, she burst out laughing when I bared my predicament. And then she told me soberly that this is the biggest and most popular excuse for uneaten food. (not that it's not valid or anything, but its rampant!). She told me that there is very little that we can do here. I can keep talking to him whenever he is in a receptive mood, but for now I will have to let go of trying to control this situation. (Reminded me of Manisha's words...not so long ago!). She said that as long as I don't fill his lunchbox with junk, it is still ok if he goes hungry for one meal! Somehow, her saying it, makes things more lucidly clear than if I were to come up with it my own or thru R. So, I am going to step back from the stress of this now and just talk to him everyday!
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You know what's the nicest things about going to work??? At the end of the day, I may not have done one other thing besides the mundane and the routine, the chores and the daily tasks. But that will be ok, because I went to work right?? :) But I would have tortured myself over this same kind of day, if I had been at home, and riddled myself with guilt that I had accomplished nothing besides!
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I had the model day yesterday. Where I woke up at 5 AM, prepared a fresh lunch, put together a fresh breakfast for all of us, had everything packed and ready, didn't skip a beat with the boys, and we were all out the door by 8:35!! And thanks to my pre-made list, I knew what to cook for dinner, and that got done in 1 hour flat, and we were in bed by 8:20, after a book! Yes, me too...and early as it was, I realised that I was deliciously tired and that hour felt perfect for laying down. On the one hand it puts some pressure on me to emulate this kind of day everyday, and on the other hand, it gives me hope for the longterm, that I can still do all the things I hold important to do on a regular day, without too much stress.
A new form of letter writing has been born in our house. Spearheading this novel venture is our youg man, Winkie, of course. He wrote a note to his Dad last Sunday and it flowed in a conversational interview format. One line of Winkie speaks and one line of Daddy speaks. Over and over, till the note finally ended. Today, I was the recipient of one such conversation and I am not entirely sure what to make of it. Feel kicked with amusement about his new style of expression? Or wonder whether we should spend more time talking to him in real life???!!! Hmmm!
Last night as I lay in bed with the boys, in the hope that they would sleep early, my mind kept up its ceaseless activity of thought after thought. And among many other trivial, trivial things, I also thought about how rushed our lives have become. The biggest part of everyday is spent in a never ending race with the minute and hour hands of a clock, trying to cram in the maximum things in the least amount of time, so enough of it is still left over for relaxing and spending time together as a family. I was feeling particularly dejected, that after rushing about the whole day, we still had to rush and get the boys to bed right after dinner so that they could have enough sleep, without being still tired in the morning. Where was the family time? To sit around and catch up on the day? To read a book together? To unwind the evening leisurely?
I went to sleep with this thought tucked away somewhere in the cobwebs of my mind. When I woke up in the morning and began the morning routine in the kitchen, I realised that I was feeling so dejected with life because I was still so attached to so many things and especially attached to the idea of what should constitute an evening in a family. If I could drop the attachment, I could look past it all and see the simplicity of an evening routine... one where we paid attention to body rhythms and natural cycles. Where we ate because we were well and truly hungry, and shortly after, followed it up with going to bed, because the length of the busy day had finally caught up and was nudging our bodies to rest. It wouldn't matter if we spent a 1/2 hour together or not, perhaps, or read that last book while cuddling. Maybe it is ok enough to give in to the delicious rest we have earned and just submit to the silence within our selves?
If I lose this attachment to emotions, I can accept the simple disciplines of everyday life as natural and just, and not something that makes us lose out on something bigger...???!!
So we that first day today. I woke up at 5 AM just to be sure I was on top of things, and still ended up stressing and rushing. Is there any way to avoid the chaos altogether???!!! Things would have been ok had it not been for Winkie's morning hartal. He claimed he was still sleepy and didn't want to get out of bed. I gave him a hug and a kiss and lots of understanding smiles, accepting his feelings of tiredness. But the little mister was serious. He wouldn't budge. I tried the sympathy approach and tried to explain that today was my first day back and I was excited about it, just like his first day of school, so could he please just cooperate with me and get up off the floor, where he lay in a heap, so I could help him brush his teeth? (This was a true concession because he is supposed to groom himself in the mornings!). But nope, even that didn't work! Then I lost it. There was a 1/2 hour left to go and there was no time for the sweet talk and mollycoddling. It was time for the ultimatum. If he didn't get up and get ready quick, he would have to go to school in his jammies and with unbrushed teeth! Yes yes, not very practical and doable I know...but by then I was livid and stressed and with no other options to make him budge. I gave him 5 more minutes when I got Thambi ready and gave him that moment to think what he was going to do. He decided to take my help with brushing but with poor grace and refused to open his mouth, refused to bend over into the sink etc etc, generally making things harder. By now of course, all love and logic had flown out the window, and I was hyperventilating from the time pressure and just forcing him to do things rather cruelly! *sigghhh*
This is the exact situation I hate to find myself in, and the exact manner of dealing which I wish I could change about myself. One would think the easier solution for the long term is to just get him to bed very early, and oh I try! But it always ends up around 9:00 by the time he is in bed. Which I think is just not enough for him, even if he wakes up as late as 7:30. So, I decided then and there that he would be in bed by 8:00, hook or crook! I'll just have to push that thru somehow, otherwise, its the same ugly scene every morning, which leaves me feeling battered in spirit and energy by 9:00.
With all this confusion, we were late to drop R off at the station, and he had to call in and say he was working from home. Thank God for that. Winkie finished his 2 waffles, R dropped him at the busstop, while I got ready upstairs. And 20 minutes later, I was finally out the door. When I walked Thambi to the front door of the babysitter's house, he figured out what was about to happen and resisted coming in. He thrashed about while I tried to remove his jacket and sobbed in her arms as I left. No, it wasn't a heartbreaking scene. I knew he would be fine soon enough. Sure enough, 10 minutes later when I called, he was doing some colouring. Work was alright. Everything was just as I had left it 2 years ago, and while it was all so familiar on the one hand, it was also a little surreal. It was nice to have a desk and computer and login, and lunchrooms and coffee breaks and conference room meetings. I felt so official. :)
4 hours is pretty meager time to kill, and before I knew it, it was 5 minutes to 1:00. I picked up my bag and headed out eagerly, waiting to see the little guy. He was asleep when I got there. Seems he had enjoyed himself playing with the other little kid and been very communicative of his needs....poopoo for diaper change, paal for his milk, thacchi when he was sleepy! When I lifted him up, he woke up, and he was still groggy when I settled him into the carseat. When I picked him up after we got home, he looked deep into my eyes and gave me the most beautiful smile and snuggled his cheek next to mine for a cuddled kiss. *sigh*
And that was how our first day went. Rushed, hurried, frenzied, fruitful, uneventful and wholly unremarkable in any way, save for the fact that it was our first day of a new kind of life!
Listening to the Karadi Tales CDs day after day after day has whet Winkie's appetite for fierce battles! He loves playing imaginary games where the mighty Gods battle the demoniacrakshasas with powerful astras, and bows and arrows and mace and swords, and emerge victorious. Most times when he is lost in thought, he is quite likely replaying these scenes mentally in his head and sure enough, the next question will be about that. If you're in a good mood and feeling patient, a pleasant, leisurely conversation follows. But on most days this is not the case.
But it so happened that one day, he was having his after school snack, when he shot me another question about Gods and rakshasas, and how they fight each other. I don't remember now what the exact question was, and I wish I did, but all I remember is that a lightbulb went on inside my head and with that, the whole conversation turned around, and what ensued was a very simplified understanding of spirituality, and the purpose of life, based on his newest interest in these mythological tales.
I told him that in each one of our hearts, there lives a rakshasa and a God. And depending on the moment and situation, sometimes it is the rakshasathat emerges victorious, and sometimes God. He looked quite intrigued by that revelation, and his expression was begging me to continue. I told him that rakshasaswere the bad qualities that resided in us, making us angry, impatient, mean, greedy, violent, hateful or selfish by turns, and whenever we exhibited one of these traits, we were being rakshasas ourselves. He digested that. And when I asked him the next question...so when do we act like Gods?...his answer was quick to come forth...when we are being sharing, caring, loving, not hitting, being a good brother....
It was amazing to see his thoughts latch on so quickly to what I was getting at. And the more we talked about it...the more I realise that this indeed is the scene within each and everyone of us. And the whole of life's purpose, if it has any at all, is that we must strive to create a climate within us where the God always emerges victorious over the rakshasas. He was able to grasp this idea fairly easily. For the next time I showed my impatience with him, he reminded me that I was letting my rakshasa win. You might think this an inconvenient truth, but when the journey is long and need for striving, immense...it helps to have your conscience prod you from the outside every once in a while...in a way that you will hear and simply have to heed!
Spring arrives outside my door with warmer weather and sunshine and the sound of the birds tweeting. But spring arrived within, long before this. The signs were many. It was in the way I comforted myself at the thought of returning here after a whirlwind time in India, thinking that spring was not too far behind. Its in the way I don't worry about how I will make time for gym once I start working...because I can always walk outside! And for once I don't have to think about how to fruitfully entertain the boys, because they take can their cycles out. Its in the spring brochures from our local community college, and the colourful spring catalogues from Pier 1 that sit alluringly in my mailbox. So when the actual signs of spring make an appearance outside, the first thought is...its about time!
And with that first sign of the winter thawing, it somehow becomes tradition to kickstart the new season with a garage overhaul, the way I have been doing it the past 2 years. As I rummaged through the archives to pick out those posts, it was amusing to note the dates. March 25, 2007. March 14, 2008. March 06, 2009. Through every progressive year, spring was supposedly coming earlier. Is this the definitive sign of global warming in our part of the world?
I was supposed to send Thambi off to babysitting for a few more hours of warmups before the real drill from next week. But when I threw open all the windows and smelled the fresh air, I changed my mind. He could stay home and watch me clean the garage instead. I couldn't bear the idea of him cooped indoors on a day like this, and Monday will come soon enough. He enjoyed himself thoroughly, and played with the car while I broomed and dusted. And when it was time to hose down the floor and soap it up, he sprang to attention and stayed by my side. I let him hold the hose for a little bit, and the jetting water entranced him. But 10 minutes later he handed it back to me because the water was cold. The job got done, and the feeling of achievement as always, was immense. Piles and boxes of clothes and toys in disarray in a corner of the garage, now found their way to a more orderly chaos and sat in neat stacks, waiting for their next VVA pickup on Friday. I wasn't going to miss the truck this time!
I clicked a picture of the cleaned out garage, and when I look back at the same pictures from the years past, I notice that there's not much change at all. In fact, hardly any. But on closer inspection, I find that some things have changed. The lives of the people within the walls of that home have changed. 2 years ago, it was an almost 4 year old Winkie that watched on with fascination at the water streaming from the hose. Now, he was grown and gone off to school on a weekday morning, and Thambi has taken his place. 1 year ago, Thambi had just about managed to steady his toddle in his baby shoes. And now, he was driving a car! :D:D. 2 years ago, R had the luxury of time to join me in my spree and help hose it down. This year, he works 18 hour shifts and barely manages a cursory glance at the result of my toil. 1 year ago, I was secure in the knowledge that my time at home was a given, because my baby was still not old enough for school. Now, my mindset undergoes a change as I opt for financial security instead. 1 and 2 years later, we have all grown older, without a doubt. But have we grown the wiser for it?
And the more I ponder on this question....the brighter is the light that dawns on me...making it radiantly clear that even though our lives have undergone many superficial changes, the way it should, to mark the passage of time....the core of our creation remains unchanged. Unheeding of the minutes and years rolled by. Timeless in the face of time. Changeless in the face of change. Unmoved in all the shifting patterns of the seasons. And resolute beyond our own quicksilver attitudes and fickle minds. And somehow, this answer that question...
I know this is not a certainty of warm days coming up in quick succession, though the heart and soul seems ready for it. I know that many winter days still lie ahead. But now, I know that their days are numbered...
This is a drawing that Winkie did when he was angry. Very angry. Great big angry gashes across the page in circular motion helped him expend some of that negative energy building inside, and when he was emptied, what started off as morose, unhappy expressions turned into downright goofy, happy ones. All in a space of 2 minutes. What a metamorphosis huh??? I agree. And I wouldn't have known to give him a paper and pen to express himself if I hadn't read the book. At first, I had tried accepting his feelings with those simple monosyllabic replies, but that only seemed to incite him further. He seemed to want more of a reaction from me. Then suddenly this idea struck and I took a chance. He looked puzzled with the invitation to draw...and threw me a suspicious look, but I looked dead earnest. And he said...yes, he would like to draw and show me HOW angry he was!
I also invited him to draw how his face would have looked so angry, and he did. And in just under 30 seconds, his countenance calmed, his breathing became more regular and the muscles on his face relaxed, and struggle as he did, he could not stop that smile from escaping. Pretty soon, he openly acknowledged it and smiley faces began to appear on paper too. And we were both laughing together like a merry lot, and it didn't seem like only minutes before, we had a potential disaster waiting to happen.
But of course, the success of each technique is not set in stone. What might work today, is bound to flop miserably tomorrow, and we once again have to rely on our own creative instincts to diffuse an intense situation. But while it works, what it does achieve, in addition to effective result, is that it creates more trust and understanding. Smiles that are shared deepen the goodwill and a value of a light moment is never to be underestimated, right? :) For me, it just gave me some faith as a mother. I felt more capable when my son responded to me. I felt wonderful about keeping my dignity and grace intact, which is usually the first thing to go in a confrontation, at least in my case!
Before reading further, please note that the info presented here is purely cursory information based on some online research. It is by no means conclusive and if you feel that your child exhibits one or more of these warning signs, it does not mean that he/she suffers from a learning disability! Thank you.
March has been dedicated to awareness of learning disabilities in children in our little slice of the blogosphere. To be frank, I have no experience or knowledge about learning disabilities. But that should not stop any of us from understanding more about what it is, because being educated is being empowered. And when Kiran gave us a list of topics to address I chose 2. Namely, types of learning disabilities and warning signs that parents and teachers need to watch out for.
But before we get into any of all that....let us first clarify our understanding of what learning disabilities in children really are about. Some individuals, despite having an average or above average level of intelligence, have real difficulty acquiring basic academic skills. These skills include those needed for successful reading, writing, listening, speaking and/or math. These difficulties might be the result of a learning disability. It is basically a condition when a child's achievement is substantially below what one might expect for that child. Learning disabilities do not include problems that are primarily the result of intellectual disabilities, emotional disturbance, or visual, hearing, emotional or intellectual disabilities.
Many children with LD have struggle with reading. The difficulties often begin with individual sounds, or phonemes. Students may have problems with rhyming, and pulling words apart into their individual sounds (segmenting) and putting individual sounds together to form words (blending). This makes it difficult to decode words accurately, which can lead to trouble with fluency and comprehension. As students move through the grades, more and more of the information they need to learn is presented in written (through textbooks) or oral (through lecture) form. This exacerbates the difficulties they have succeeding in school.
What are the types of learning disabilities (LDs)?
LD is a broad term. There are many different kinds of learning disabilities. Most often they fall into three broad categories:
Reading disabilities (often referred to as dyslexia)
Written language disabilities (often referred to as dysgraphia)
Math disabilities (often called dyscalsulia)
Other related categories include disabilities that affect memory, social skills, and executive functions such as deciding to begin a task.
Here is some general information on the more common forms of LD. We will not get into too much of detail, and restrict this to an overview understanding of the types of LDs.
Dyslexia (difficulty reading)
Dyslexia is characterized by difficulties with accurate and/or fluent word recognition and by poor spelling and decoding abilities. Reading disabilities affect 2 to 8 % of elementary school children.
To read successfully, one must:
Focus attention on the printed symbols
Recognize the sounds associated with letters
Understand words and grammar
Build ideas and images
Compare new ideas to what you already know
Store ideas in memory
A person with dyslexia can have problems in any of the tasks involved in reading. Dyslexia is not due to either lack of intelligence or desire to learn; with appropriate teaching methods, dyslexics can learn successfully. Remedial reading specialists have developed techniques that can help many children with dyslexia acquire these skills.
However, there is more to reading than recognizing words. If the brain is unable to form images or relate new ideas to those stored in memory, the reader cannot understand or remember the new concepts. Other types of reading disabilities can appear in the upper grades when the focus of reading shifts from word identification to comprehension.
Dysgraphia (Writing difficulty)
Dysgraphia is a learning disability that affects writing abilities. It can manifest itself as difficulties with spelling, poor handwriting and trouble putting thoughts on paper. Just having bad handwriting doesn't mean a person has dysgraphia. But if a person has trouble in any of the areas below, additional help may be beneficial.
>Tight, awkward pencil grip and body position
>Illegible handwriting
>Avoiding writing or drawing tasks
>Tiring quickly while writing
>Saying words out loud while writing
>Unfinished or omitted words in sentences
>Difficulty organizing thoughts on paper
>Difficulty with syntax structure and grammar
>Large gap between written ideas and understanding demonstrated through speech.
Dyscalculia (Difficult in Math)
Dyscalculia is a term referring to a wide range of life-long learning disabilities involving math. There is no single form of math disability, and difficulties vary from person to person and affect people differently in school and throughout life.
Since math disabilities are varied, the signs that a person may have a difficulty in this area can be just as varied. If a person has trouble in any of the areas below, additional help may be beneficial.
>Good at speaking, reading, and writing, but slow to develop counting and math problem-solving skills
>Good memory for printed words, but difficulty reading numbers, or recalling numbers in sequence
>Good with general math concepts, but frustrated when specific computation and organization skills need to be used
>Trouble with the concept of time-chronically late, difficulty remembering schedules, trouble with approximating how long something will take
>Poor sense of direction, easily disoriented and easily confused by changes in routine
>Poor long term memory of concepts-can do math functions one day, but is unable to repeat them the next day
>Poor mental math ability-trouble estimating grocery costs or counting days until vacation
>Difficulty playing strategy games like chess, bridge or role-playing video games
>Difficulty keeping score when playing board and card games.
Other related conditions
Many aspects of speaking, listening, reading, writing, and arithmetic overlap and build on the same brain capabilities. It is not surprising that people can be diagnosed with more than one learning disability. There are many disabilities that are related to learning disabilities. Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) makes it difficult for children to control their behavior and pay attention.
[This has been a very brief overview of LDs. More exhastive information can be found at http://www.ldonline.org/]
GENERAL WARNING SIGNS OF LDs
Warning signs may differ depending on whether it is a preschool child, or elementary school or secondary school.
PRESCHOOLER
Language
* Slow development in speaking words or sentences
* Pronunciation problems
* Difficulty learning new words
* Difficulty following simple directions
* Difficulty understanding questions
* Difficulty expressing wants and desires
* Difficulty rhyming words
* Lack of interest in story telling
Motor Skills * Clumsiness
* Poor balance
* Difficulty manipulating small objects
* Awkwardness with running, jumping, or climbing
* Trouble learning to tie shoes, button shirts, or perform other self-help activities
* Avoidance of drawing or tracing
Cognition
* Trouble memorizing the alphabet or days of the week
* Poor memory for what should be routine (everyday) procedures
* Difficulty with cause and effect, sequencing, and counting
* Difficulty with basic concepts such as size, shape, color
Attention * High distractibility
* Impulsive behavior
* Unusual restlessness (hyperactivity)
* Difficulty staying on task
* Difficulty changing activities
* Constant repetition of an idea, inability to move on to a new idea (perseveration)
Social Behavior * Trouble interacting with others, playing alone
* Prone to sudden and extreme mood changes
* Easily frustrated
* Hard to manage, has temper tantrums
ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
Language/Mathematics
Slow learning of the correspondence of sound to letter.
Consistent errors in reading or spelling
Difficulty remembering basic sight words
Inability to retell a story in sequence
Trouble learning to tell time or count money
Confusion of math signs (+, -, x, /, =)
Transposition of number sequences
Trouble memorizing math facts
Trouble with place value
Difficulty remembering the steps of mathematic operations such as long division
Motor Skills Poor coordination, or awkwardness
Difficulty copying from chalkboard
Difficulty aligning columns (math)
Poor handwriting
Attention/Organization Difficulty concentrating or focusing on a task
Difficulty finishing work on time
Inability to follow multiple directions
Unusual sloppiness, carelessness
Poor concept of direction (left, right)
Rejection of new concepts, or changes in routine
Social Behavior Difficulty understanding facial expressions or gestures
Difficulty understanding social situations
Tendency to misinterpret behavior of peers and/or adults
Apparent lack of "common sense"
SECONDARY SCHOOL
Language/Mathematics/Social Studies
Avoidance of reading and writing
Tendency to misread information
Difficulty summarizing
Poor reading comprehension
Difficulty understanding subject area textbooks
Trouble with open-ended questions
Continued poor spelling
Poor grasp of abstract concepts
Poor skills in writing essays
Difficulty in learning foreign language
Poor ability to apply math skills
Attention/Organization Difficulty staying organized
Trouble with test formats such as multiple choice
Slow work pace in class and in testing situations
Poor note taking skills
Poor ability to proofread or double check work
Social Behavior Difficulty accepting criticism
Difficulty seeking or giving feedback
Problems negotiating or advocating for oneself
Difficulty resisting peer pressure
Difficulty understanding another person's perspectives
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