Minding My "q's and p's"
I think the single thing I love the most about homeschooling is the flexibility it affords. Doctors appointments and little trips are never a problem to schedule. Snow days are non-existent but Too Nice To Stay Inside days abound. Field trips to our local science centre usually result in one-on-one time with the staff since we are often the only ones there. We recognize our flexibility as a luxury we are thankful for.
I am not, by nature, a flexible person. I like routines. I like structure. I like things to be done my way, at my pace, in my time. I am self-centered and stubborn....but at least I'm honest! I taught my two older daughters exactly the same way. While they each excelled in different areas, they both learned. I was happy to say I had "normal" children. Not brilliant, not gifted, but wonderfully, happily, beautifully average. The eldest loved math but was not particularly keen on learning how to diagram a sentence. The younger loved science but couldn't care less about place values. My confidence in my teaching abilities was beginning to grow as I became more and more comfortable in my routine of homeschooling. Then it was time to begin teaching my third daughter.
Girl #3 was a joy to parent from the beginning. A sweet and calm baby who was always a good sleeper. She gave us quite a scare at 9 days old when she was hospitalized for 4 days with a high fever but came through the event seemingly unscathed. She grew into a robust and happy toddler. We never noticed any issues except the fact that she didn't seem to talk until a bit later than her sisters. We assumed that it was due to the fact that her sisters adored her and helped to meet her needs before she had an opportunity to ask. She was doted on, plain and simple. As she matured and did begin talking, she mispronounced many words. I remember asking Hubby, "When do you think she'll start speaking like a big girl?" I'll admit, I was growing weary of correcting "psgetti" and "aminal". I furrowed my brow every time she asked questions like "What we going to do else?" But she was bright and inquisitive and excited to start school! When she did begin K4, my (tried and tested) method of teaching failed. Miserably. Nothing seemed to click. We decided she just wasn't quite ready and put it off until the next year. When she was five, I resumed MY way of teaching her. It still didn't work. I was becoming concerned. In my self-centered way I assumed it was ME...I am doing something wrong...I am to blame for this. So in my stubborn way, I kept doing more of the same..teaching her the same way but louder and longer. I was praying that one day it would just "break through".
As time went on she did learn. It was very much a two-steps-forward-one-step-back experience for both of us. She would finally understand a new concept after much review so I would move on to the next just in time for her to forget the first. I just could not understand how a 5 year-old couldn't remember the Alphabet Song! After all, she had been hearing it since before birth. As soon as she could sing the song we moved on to letter recognition. I watched her face as her mind tried to decipher between "p" and "q" or "b" and "d". It was almost painful. I could see her eyes cloud over with unfamiliarity and then show a glimmer of determination. When she still couldn't conjure the name, her determination gave way to panic and her efforts erupted into a flurry of frustration. Every. Day.
By the time she turned 6 and still wasn't reading the way I felt she should be able to, I became very concerned, partially for her but I can admit (with a certain amount of shame) a little for (self-centered) me too. I would be lying if I didn't say I was worried what people would think/say since I had not been able to teach my daughter how to read by the age of 6! As a home-teacher, one always feels a certain level of scrutiny. The need to prove one's self is ever present in the mind (not that disapproval from outside sources would ever discourage me from my convictions). So that school year began the same way, MY (stubborn) way.
On New Year's Eve the year she turned 6, the precious child that had frustrated and confounded me so suffered a severe seizure in my arms. You can read about that here. She was diagnosed with a seizure disorder and put on a regimen of medication. This is when my thinking started to change. My view of her (and me) started to soften. Perhaps her learning deficits weren't my (self-centered) fault. I still taught her my way, but in a wee bit gentler tone. She made progress, slow, slow progress. There were still tears, but she was finally remembering the sound "e" made. I was encouraged.
Then came time for the Buddies to begin their foray into the world of education. This presented an entirely new challenge. It did not take long for the boys to catch up to and surpass my struggling girl. When Buddy #1 began to read (aloud) pages in 2 minutes that took her 10, her already delicate confidence took another blow. But rather than cry and fold, she determined that her little brother would NOT show her up. So, she began reading...fast...and didn't get a single word right. When I called her out, she tried another approach. She asked for the same bedtime story every night. Memorized it. Then one night proclaimed she could read and recite it she did! I then decided that she may benefit from sharing classes with the Buddies. After all, I can only imagine the pressure she must have felt to get all the right answers and having no one to bounce ideas off of being the only student in her class. So, I worked through Grade 1 with the Buddies in 5 months. I had all three of them begin Grade 2 this September with a promise to my girl that I would research different ways of teaching her.
Last month, Hubby's cousin had posted a video with a short description that enticed me to watch. As the lady began her monologue, I stared open-mouthed at the computer screen. She was talking about my girl. Talking late...."psgetti"...."aminal".....mixing up "b" and "d".....can't tell right from left...can't tie her shoes....As the information flowed from the computer, my mind shouted, "That's my girl! That's my girl! My sweet, inquisitive, bright, empathetic girl has dyslexia." I called her into the room and let her watch the video with me. She burst into tears. "That's ME, Mama! The lady is talking about ME!"
That afternoon, I asked her forgiveness. I asked her to forgive me for my frustration and stubbornness, for my lack of understanding. We made a decision to enjoy the TRUE flexibility of homeschooling and do away with grade-level labeling. I promised to let go of some of my routine and structure and she promised to not compare herself to anybody else. School is so much more enjoyable now that I've learned to mind my P's and Q's...or should I say, my "q's and p's"?
I am not, by nature, a flexible person. I like routines. I like structure. I like things to be done my way, at my pace, in my time. I am self-centered and stubborn....but at least I'm honest! I taught my two older daughters exactly the same way. While they each excelled in different areas, they both learned. I was happy to say I had "normal" children. Not brilliant, not gifted, but wonderfully, happily, beautifully average. The eldest loved math but was not particularly keen on learning how to diagram a sentence. The younger loved science but couldn't care less about place values. My confidence in my teaching abilities was beginning to grow as I became more and more comfortable in my routine of homeschooling. Then it was time to begin teaching my third daughter.
Girl #3 was a joy to parent from the beginning. A sweet and calm baby who was always a good sleeper. She gave us quite a scare at 9 days old when she was hospitalized for 4 days with a high fever but came through the event seemingly unscathed. She grew into a robust and happy toddler. We never noticed any issues except the fact that she didn't seem to talk until a bit later than her sisters. We assumed that it was due to the fact that her sisters adored her and helped to meet her needs before she had an opportunity to ask. She was doted on, plain and simple. As she matured and did begin talking, she mispronounced many words. I remember asking Hubby, "When do you think she'll start speaking like a big girl?" I'll admit, I was growing weary of correcting "psgetti" and "aminal". I furrowed my brow every time she asked questions like "What we going to do else?" But she was bright and inquisitive and excited to start school! When she did begin K4, my (tried and tested) method of teaching failed. Miserably. Nothing seemed to click. We decided she just wasn't quite ready and put it off until the next year. When she was five, I resumed MY way of teaching her. It still didn't work. I was becoming concerned. In my self-centered way I assumed it was ME...I am doing something wrong...I am to blame for this. So in my stubborn way, I kept doing more of the same..teaching her the same way but louder and longer. I was praying that one day it would just "break through".
As time went on she did learn. It was very much a two-steps-forward-one-step-back experience for both of us. She would finally understand a new concept after much review so I would move on to the next just in time for her to forget the first. I just could not understand how a 5 year-old couldn't remember the Alphabet Song! After all, she had been hearing it since before birth. As soon as she could sing the song we moved on to letter recognition. I watched her face as her mind tried to decipher between "p" and "q" or "b" and "d". It was almost painful. I could see her eyes cloud over with unfamiliarity and then show a glimmer of determination. When she still couldn't conjure the name, her determination gave way to panic and her efforts erupted into a flurry of frustration. Every. Day.
By the time she turned 6 and still wasn't reading the way I felt she should be able to, I became very concerned, partially for her but I can admit (with a certain amount of shame) a little for (self-centered) me too. I would be lying if I didn't say I was worried what people would think/say since I had not been able to teach my daughter how to read by the age of 6! As a home-teacher, one always feels a certain level of scrutiny. The need to prove one's self is ever present in the mind (not that disapproval from outside sources would ever discourage me from my convictions). So that school year began the same way, MY (stubborn) way.
On New Year's Eve the year she turned 6, the precious child that had frustrated and confounded me so suffered a severe seizure in my arms. You can read about that here. She was diagnosed with a seizure disorder and put on a regimen of medication. This is when my thinking started to change. My view of her (and me) started to soften. Perhaps her learning deficits weren't my (self-centered) fault. I still taught her my way, but in a wee bit gentler tone. She made progress, slow, slow progress. There were still tears, but she was finally remembering the sound "e" made. I was encouraged.
Then came time for the Buddies to begin their foray into the world of education. This presented an entirely new challenge. It did not take long for the boys to catch up to and surpass my struggling girl. When Buddy #1 began to read (aloud) pages in 2 minutes that took her 10, her already delicate confidence took another blow. But rather than cry and fold, she determined that her little brother would NOT show her up. So, she began reading...fast...and didn't get a single word right. When I called her out, she tried another approach. She asked for the same bedtime story every night. Memorized it. Then one night proclaimed she could read and recite it she did! I then decided that she may benefit from sharing classes with the Buddies. After all, I can only imagine the pressure she must have felt to get all the right answers and having no one to bounce ideas off of being the only student in her class. So, I worked through Grade 1 with the Buddies in 5 months. I had all three of them begin Grade 2 this September with a promise to my girl that I would research different ways of teaching her.
Last month, Hubby's cousin had posted a video with a short description that enticed me to watch. As the lady began her monologue, I stared open-mouthed at the computer screen. She was talking about my girl. Talking late...."psgetti"...."aminal".....mixing up "b" and "d".....can't tell right from left...can't tie her shoes....As the information flowed from the computer, my mind shouted, "That's my girl! That's my girl! My sweet, inquisitive, bright, empathetic girl has dyslexia." I called her into the room and let her watch the video with me. She burst into tears. "That's ME, Mama! The lady is talking about ME!"
That afternoon, I asked her forgiveness. I asked her to forgive me for my frustration and stubbornness, for my lack of understanding. We made a decision to enjoy the TRUE flexibility of homeschooling and do away with grade-level labeling. I promised to let go of some of my routine and structure and she promised to not compare herself to anybody else. School is so much more enjoyable now that I've learned to mind my P's and Q's...or should I say, my "q's and p's"?
Comments
Every child is different. Very few fit the NORM.
I am so thankful you were able to find the reason. It gives so much hope and understanding.
Dad
;)