Sunday, February 12, 2017

Accidentally Perfect

Letting things happen, as opposed to making them happen, has its share of magical moments.  Last week, the Natural History Museum had another free homeschool day on a day we happened to have free.  We hadn't been in a while, so we grabbed our TAP passes and headed out to the Metro train station down the block.

Liam listened to the announcer and decided to re-announce each stop as if it were a bumper for a TV show.  "Hollywood and Highland, coming up next - part of the Red Line family of stations."

When we got to the museums, the rose garden approach to the NHM was closed and we were closer to the Science Center.  Since the California Science Center is always free, I had planned to visit the NHM first, but decided to take advantage of proximity instead.

As we entered, we were greeted with signs announcing a special exhibit of the art of Pixar animation.  Holy crap - how perfect could it get?  The exhibit cost extra, so we hurried to the ticket booth and threw down for two tickets.  Let's just say, we never made it to the Natural History Museum.

Liam stopped to play at every station.  Digital animation incorporates math, science and art.  Liam doesn't think about the mechanics, but he intuitively grasps visual concepts.  At each station, there was a visual puzzle to solve and he was in Heaven.

Designing a virtual set

Programming the visual effect of grass

Making robots from various shapes

In this simulation, the visual effect of Miranda's hair was added and taken away, which Liam found to be endlessly funny.
Here, Liam plays with lighting colors, effects and sources in a scene from "Finding Dory."

Playing with extruded 2D shapes to create 3D objects

Listening to descriptions of the various character models

Working at the stop-motion station to create the video below

At the end of the day, we exited through the park and back to the subway, taking a moment to enjoy a natural wonder.
Proving once again, that the most beautiful discoveries are often made by accident.

Saturday, February 4, 2017

The Pimple of Doom (or Autism and Adolescence)

My son got his first pimple.  "Well, here it comes," I remember thinking.  And it did.

If you asked an adult if they wanted to go back and relive any part of their early life, I'd be willing to bet nobody would choose the middle-school years.  Nobody.

I knew that pimple wasn't just a blemish, but a bright, red sign, signalling the start of the Hellscape known as puberty - new interests, new passions and new hormones making everything more dramatic.

Life was about to get. . .exciting. . .

It started in a way which would annoy anyone - an operating system update.  I'd been pressing the "remind me later" message for a few weeks on my own phone.  It never occurred to me to tell Liam that he might want to do the same.

A few days ago, I heard "IT'S UPDATING THE SYSTEM!!!!" from my son's room.  I thought he was upset because the iPad wouldn't respond while the system was updating.

"It's OK," I said.  "It will work again as soon as it's done."  I removed it from his room for the update and then returned it when it had finished.

A few moments later I heard, "It's OS 10.2 - I don't like 10.2!  MAKE IT 9.4!" 

"It's just a system update.  There is nothing wrong with your iPad.  Try it like this for a while!"

"Put it back to 9.4 please, put it back to 9.4 please, put it back to 9.4 PLEEAAASSEEEE!" With each "please" he was getting more and more upset.  I even went online to see if it was possible.  I tried the suggestions I found.  I tried three different suggestions.  None of them worked.

"I'm sorry, buddy, but I can't change it.  It can't be put back."

"FUCK you!"  he shouted.  My husband spirited him away to his room, letting him know it was not OK to say that to Mom, but afterwards, we smiled.  Why?  Because it was a clear, direct expression of how he felt to the person he needed to hear it.  He didn't say, "through the park," an expression of discontent he uses, by equating his least-favorite way of getting to Urban Homeschoolers with whatever unpleasantness is happening at the moment.  He dug deep and let me have it in the way every 10 year old has (at least under his breath), for all time.  It showed that there were new connections to us and to his own emotions.

To be clear, I don't relish verbal abuse from anyone, and we made it clear that it wasn't OK to scream that at people, but we did acknowledge his frustration - something I'd have to do for the rest of the week, because he's also holding onto things longer.  The difference between his childhood meltdowns and now seems to be his attempt to manage it - himself.  He does keep trying to get me to fix it, but after each rebuttal, he goes muttering off, then finds something to cheer himself up.  He's learning.

Now we jump off of the big cliff.  The precipice of adolescence, where most people start to use justification and rationalizations to handle the bigger problems that come with a more complicated relationship to the world.  But for Liam, those concepts of "justification," "rationalization,"  and sometimes even the more general "cause and effect" are meaningless.

He posts his visual effect video clips on YouTube where there is a whole community of kids modifying and re-posting the same clips.  And he's even learned to write descriptions for others to read (he didn't realize there were other people watching for the longest time). But he doesn't understand the difference between posting his own work and re-posting someone else's work (and why that might piss someone off).  I still have to monitor his channels and moderate the comments and explain some angry responses to him.  He's started to add new channels, but originally, he just hijacked mine (with permission).  Most of the effects were created in Sony Vegas Pro:

Now we have to help him grow his talents, grow his new-found communication skills and find new ways to bridge the gaps in his understanding to allow him, if not empathy, then at least a sense of the "rules" of the game.

Music is also helping him forge some bonds.  He "gets" music and how to listen and be a part of a musical dialogue - much more easily than engaging in a verbal one. Band rehearsals have been bumped up to once-a-week and they even entered a video audition for "America's Got Talent."  I never dreamed he'd be writing songs and playing in a rock band.  Here's the "official" band picture included with their audition.
All of the kids picked their own outfits for the photo shoot.  Liam picked a graphic tee and wore a necklace I let him choose on Etsy (it's imprinted with the coordinates of our house).  It looks like he's found his "cool." Usually, when we take a picture, he fixes a goofy grimace. We also set up a YouTube channel for their songs, so the producers could hear them playing in front of an audience:

While puberty scares me, it also holds the seeds of adulthood and I'm very excited to see what kind of man my son will be. 

In the meantime, I guess it's time to get him some facial cleanser.  It's going to be a "bumpy" ride!


Monday, December 19, 2016

A Steady Gig

Liam singing with P.A.N.D.A.  He's on the far right, singing on the song he wrote.
Like many parents of kids on the spectrum, we wonder what Liam might do for work, or if he will be able to hold down something resembling a job, or contract work. He has crazy skills, but planning and executing a project, especially one that someone else initiated, is still out of reach for him.  Lately though, he's been taking small steps out into the world and sharing his talents.

I began to receive email notifications, asking me to take the final step to upload my video to YouTube.  Since I haven't created YouTube content in ages, I realized Liam had figured out how to upload his Adobe After Effects projects, using different effects on his favorite television bumpers.  So far, he's uploaded over 70 videos. He even has some subscribers (who aren't spammers).

The most collaborative thing he's been doing, is playing in the band that formed over the summer (see the post entitled "Tribes."  They all worked hard and ended up sounding good enough to be asked to join their teacher on actual gigs around town.  So far, P.A.N.D.A. has three covers and five original tunes and Liam wrote one of them. They're planning a recording session in January, to lay down all of their originals and will be playing a show on New Year's Eve. Not bad for a band ranging in age from ten to thirteen years old. 

He's continuing to grow his talents as an artist, beyond his favorite digital mediums. Right now, he's working in acrylics and loves using the paint itself to create texture.  He just went to a birthday party at an art space that teaches graffiti art and stop motion animation.  When we left the party, he said, "I really like that place." After I finish this post, I'll be signing him up for the winter session. Some day, one of these things may turn into a steady gig for him.  For now, I'm happy to encourage the exploration.

With schools all over the country dropping art programs for lack of funding, I love that Liam's passions turn the traditional model on its head.  What happens when your academics serve your art? And can your art, in turn, power your future?  We're going to find out.
Liam giving himself a stencil tattoo at Art Rebel in Sherman Oaks
Liam's latest acrylic painting from Pastimes for a Lifetime in Van Nuys

Wednesday, December 7, 2016


"Ponat!  That's Liamese for pine cone!"
Liam was swinging on our neighbor's swing and referring to a large pine cone in their yard.
"Eesh ta Ponat.  That is a pine cone,"  he continued.

What had started as an inside joke for words Liam made up, had suddenly gelled into a fully-conceived language.  He began to recite the Liamese alphabet, as he swung back and forth.  It sounded like a synthesis of all of the languages he had listened to over the years, French, Russian, Cherokee, Spanish, Polish - all of the sounds combined into "Liamese."

I started pointing to other things around us.  Gesturing to a chair on the porch I said, "what's Liamese for "chair?"

"GHRES,"  he said, without hesitation.  The first sound was throaty as in Hebrew.  We had fun naming things.  This morning, while petting the cat, I said, "Jake likes to have his pets - how would you say, "I like pets" in Liamese?"

"Ee loo paas."  Verbs.  Cool.  In a million years, I couldn't have predicted that Liam would take his interest in other languages and invent his own.

It makes me wish I could watch his brain forming all of the new pathways that come with adolescence.  Lately, there have been many more "a-ha" moments.

One that felt like the sky breaking open, was Liam agreeing to use the Roto Clipper I'd bought from a TV ad, to trim his nails.  Nail trimming has been a problem since he was old enough to pull his hands out of mine.  For a wee while, I could sneak in a trim while he was napping, but soon, he learned to curl his hands into fists while asleep.  Therapists tried.  I tried.  Eventually, I let him bite his nails.  He is even flexible enough to be able to bite his toenails (gross, but impressive).  He would agree to use a nail file on the rougher edges, but it wasn't pretty.   

Yesterday, he was changing clothes and when he pulled off his socks, I could see a few nails that were getting too long.  "Time to file," I said.  I went into the bathroom and reached into the drawer where we keep the files and saw the Roto Clipper. We'd tried it once before and only succeeded in munching a small hole in a shirt (yes, it will eat fabric).  I almost left it in the drawer, but decided on one more try.

I came in, trimming one of my own nails.  "You should really try this.  It's so easy- and better than the other file."  I'm not sure what prompted him to take it from me.  He first held it up to a fingernail and pushed the nail into the little slod.  "It doesn't tickle."

"Nope. Try one of your toenails - the big one.  Then I'll leave you alone."  I guess the prospect of Mom getting out of his face was enough for him to try anything.  He started to work on his nail and he kept at it until it was a reasonable length and smooth.  I suggested he look at the next nail.  In no time, he'd done one, whole foot.

"I did it!"  He said, more as a cue for me to leave than in triumph.  I knew it was risky to push it, but I had to try.

"Yes - you did a perfect job, but you have two feet!  You need to make them both look good."  I guess that made sense enough to go ahead and tackle the other foot.  My husband's face appeared in the doorway for a moment.  I smiled and shooed him away - afraid to break the spell.

When Liam finished the last toe, I told him what an excellent job he'd done and told him he'd earned a treat.  Liam chose Gummy Tummies.  I gave him the treat and his wish - I left him alone.  Then I did a happy dance!

Last week, in World Literature at Urban Homeschoolers, the kids were using staffs they'd made to drum out the alliteration in a Viking play (have I mentioned how freaking cool this teacher is?).  Unfortunately the wooden dowels were not so smooth and Liam was the second kid to get a splinter.  It obviously bothered him, but he didn't cry or scream.  He tried to work it out, and when it was clear that the splinter would be the all-consuming focus, I took him to the office to beg a pair of tweezers.  I offered to take it out, but he refused and carefully, deftly took it out himself.

I had long suspected that things which were frightening for him would become easier when he developed the dexterity to deal with them himself.  This is the year that dexterity has met desire and created confidence.

Patience is hard, for all of us, but it has been the key to his growth.  In his own time, in his own way, he's developing skills in language, communication and self-care.

Excuse me, I think I feel a happy dance coming on again.

Sunday, November 27, 2016

A Change of Clothes

I once joked that, with my luck, my son and I would hit puberty and menopause at the same time.  I really need to be more careful when throwing those ideas out into the universe!

Due to menopause, my body has gone through some interesting changes (see the post "Mom Reset" for details).  At the same time, Liam had his mid-ten-year-old growth spurt, and began to have very clear ideas about what he would and wouldn't wear.  I bought us both some new, better fitting clothes and assembled bags of our used things for the San Fernando Valley Rescue Mission.

Digging deep into the front closet for out-sized coats, I found a forgotten plastic bin full of hanging files and plastic baggies.  It was the box we hauled to Liam's ABA clinics every month from age three to age eight-and-a-half.  There were sheets to track his programs and Sharpie-labeled bags full of pictures related to people, transportation, school-related objects, actions, gender and more.

Despite the fact that it has only been about three years since we discontinued ABA and began to homeschool Liam, it feels like we have been away much longer.  Or, maybe it's that we've come so far from the thinking we had at the time we started with that therapy.  Much of it had been focused on getting Liam to interact in "an appropriate manner."

When we left therapy and school, we decided to discard the word "appropriate," both in education and in personal development.  In the post "Free Falling,"  I noted how terrifying and liberating that choice had been.  It would take some time of growing into our new life choices, to see how they would fit.

Now, instead of choosing from among those things proscribed by the school district, or the state or the insurance companies, we choose from among those things that make us happy and work for us, as a family. Accepting Liam's growth, as it happens, as a natural consequence of him following his passions, has allowed us to let go of anxiety over where he is, compared to his peers, in education or personal development.

Without that tried-and-true (or not so true, but accepted) road map, we have to find our own way.  We accept that our lives will not be like other lives and we will not celebrate the milestones we were expecting to celebrate.  When I saw my Facebook friends' posts about their children's plans to graduate from 5th grade and go on to middle school, I will admit to a momentary pang of "oh, yeah, Liam would be in that group."  But beyond the image of him in the auditorium, "graduating," there was the memory of the overbearing curriculum, and the knowledge that his peers would soon expect even more of him socially, as they entered the painful middle-school years.

By allowing him to participate only in classes where he has an intense interest, among other homeschooled kids of varying ages, there is a greater deal of acceptance, a joy in learning and budding friendships born of common interest.  He is also developing relationships with clerks and baristas and the staff at the bank, who seem to really enjoy him and even ask after him, if he isn't with me.

As a menopausal woman, it would be foolish for me to expect my body to look like those of the twenty or thirty-somethings that take my spin classes.  I am a fit fifty-two, but I am fifty-two. There's no sense pretending otherwise.  Likewise, it would be a mistake to expect my autistic son to look and behave like someone who is not autistic.  He is sweet, brilliant, funny and talented, but he is autistic.  There's no sense pretending otherwise.

Freedom from expectations has brought a number of changes, but one of the nicest is that we are now much more comfortable in our skin and our clothes.  It just occurred to me that this discovery came, almost to the day, on the third anniversary of our journey.  I can't wait to see what's next.

Thursday, November 24, 2016


Sometimes life appears to me like swirls of dye suspended in oil.  The patterns shift, coalesce into beautiful patterns, then bleed into visual noise before coming back together again.  It is never fixed - always fluid and dynamic.  Today, on Thanksgiving, I see jagged eddies around the edges of this life, but in the center, something truly beautiful has emerged.

I am grateful for so much right now.  That I am here, in this house, with a cat curled up on the pillow beside me, my son and husband sleeping peacefully nearby.  We are healthy, we are together, we have food to eat and clothes to wear.  And we are all able to pursue our passions.  My home is filled with instruments and art supplies.  Two days ago, we drummed together in a community drum circle.  In three weeks, Liam will perform again with his band.  And tomorrow, I will be honored to teach a spin class.

Just now, the pattern has shifted again, as my son has joined me on the bed, the cat has moved to a nearby bench and dawn creeps around the curtains.  Soon, a parade will begin and kitchens will fill with the smells of sage and butter.  There will be turbulence in the oil, as people reach for respite from the lingering malignancy of a bitter election in familiar rituals and tradition.

But as comforting as traditions can be, I'm grateful for the communities of people that our non-traditional choices have brought into our lives, and the friends and family who have supported us from the beginning. I'm ever hopeful that my words, shared in groups like Unschooling Special Needs, Homeschool/Unschool Bloggers and Secular Homeschoolers, help give some support to parents who haven't found it close at hand.

And in the constant ebb and flow, I hope everyone can find a few moments of pure beauty. 

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Variations on a Theme

The letter "Q"
One of the reasons we walked away from behavioral therapy when we left traditional school was ABA's focus on working away from areas of intense interest (the clinical term would be "perseverations") and towards more "age appropriate" activities.  With ABA, his areas of interest were often used to entice him to do other things which would connect more with his peers, or make him function better in a classroom setting.  While introducing Liam to games like Mario Brothers was a hit and definitely expanded his universe (and every kid gets it), he's never lost his love of alphabet and number sequences.  We had a choice - worry that our kid was fixated on what would be a preschool aged interest, or allow him to enjoy something that obviously still brings him great pleasure.  We went for door number two.

At times my husband has said that he wished he could be as excited about anything as Liam is about numbers and letters.  I honestly didn't know if there would be any practical applications for his interest, and it's only now that I can see the growth that happened at every stage, as he explored his passion:

In preschool, this interest led him to develop extremely delicate fine motor skills as he would cut various alphabets in all shapes and fonts from paper and draw them on anything and with anything.

Between ages 5 and 6, he realized that he could create his own alphabet videos, which led to him learning how to do stop-motion animation and teaching himself video editing software including VideoPad (around age 8) and Adobe After Effects (around age 9). 

And looking at different alphabet videos of course led to "related videos" in other languages.  This has been ongoing since about age 3.  On his own, Liam learned to decode and read Japanese, Spanish, Russian and recently Cherokee (at one point he could count in as many as 20 languages).  His Mandarin teacher was amazed at how quickly he picked up both the written and sound sequences of Chinese. And last semester, he surprised his Urban Homeschoolers teacher by demonstrating that he already knew the entire Greek alphabet and could speak/decode it as well.

Eager to see different alphabets expressed in unique fonts (in English or other languages), he's learned how to create fonts in iFont Maker.  He started taking photos of found-object alphabets, then imported the images into his font program and created usable, fonts based on the photos.  He's memorized thousands of Fonts and will often point out the fonts on signs around town or in ads on TV.
The font Liam created from photos

The reference photos before he imported them to iFontMaker

The most important thing about all of those achievements, is that they were self-initiated.  During traditional school classes, every task was prompted and monitored.  Liam happily works for hours on his ideas on his own and will come out to tell us to "come into my room" to see some really cool work.  I even caught him in his room, watching an instructional video on how to create a specific font, and another one on pixel art.  He's learning to find and use tutorials to further his skills.
A pixel art Yoshi that Liam drew while watching a how-to tutorial.  I gave him some graph paper and he came up with the idea to do this, after creating a few on his own.

What might not have been evident in a clinical setting, is setting the stage for what may become his life's work, or at least, his life's joy. On the iFontMaker site, I found his creations and discovered many similar variations on a theme (or a font).  Looks like he was perfecting, experimenting and refining each time.Check out another font he created.  Very cool.  And it looks like 37 other people thought so too (see below). 

For anyone else on this journey who worries about screen time, or one, single "obsession" that seems to drive your child's life - instead of judging it, watch it, study it, try to understand it.  If you can introduce something to add to it, try that.  Otherwise, relax.  You may be amazed at what's growing in those minds.  Here are a few of my favorites, from the alphabet photos, blown up to see the detail.  Enjoy!
The letter "M"

The letter "P"

The letter "W" (also happens to start with "w" so bonus points there)

The letter "X" (which took a long time to make in iFontMaker, as he had to use vectors to get the curves right)

Thursday, August 18, 2016

Season Three

It's the first week back-to-school for kids in Los Angeles Unified School District.  Across LA, moms and kids wake up earlier and rush to get to school before that 8 am bell.  I see proud pictures that my friends post of their kids, in front of their school, proclaiming their grade level.  Liam would be in 5th grade this year.  So, I figured we should slide back into it as well. On Monday, we opened up the ST Math program and picked up where he had left off, 25% through the 5th grade program when we took a break for the summer.

I was pleased to see he was into the puzzles, and after a few minutes, he was back to where he'd been months ago.  We've also been pushing forward with the animation program from JAM - "Animate with the Cartoon Network" ( The course has kids building an animation short from brainstorm to post production.  Coming up with a basic story line and honing characters is a great way to ease back into writing.  And communicating online with the instructor and mods helps him be specific in what he writes.
A synopsis of Liam's idea.  Drawing done in a coffee shop.

A free-form spider diagram of the second version of his Spiffyman Show Idea involving the Russian letter "Yus."
Actually, that last bit is important, since Liam is used to using text in a graphic way - playing with fonts and texts and not so worried about content.  He typed a note in the comments section of one of his assignments and sent it before I had a chance to proof it.  It was just a few, fun-sounding words that had nothing to do with his post.  Unfortunately, I couldn't delete the comment, so I did the lame "autocorrect!" follow-up and talked with Liam about what his words meant.  My husband had a brilliant idea of setting up an IM account between us, so Liam can get used to communicating on screen.  I'm excited to see how this idea pans out, as it could really open up some new possibilities for him.  Keeping it inter-office, so to speak, will let us work out the kinks before he heads off to the wide world of online social interaction.

Yesterday, Liam wanted to go to a coffee shop we've been going to since he was in a stroller.  I brought his sketch book and iPad, so we could complete one of his animation assignments and post it to JAM.  I smiled to see that, just like me, he loves working at a table with a drink, a pad and a pencil.
The story has changed to include characters that are mash-ups of Mario Brothers and his original Spiffyman Show designs.

There will be Mario-esque spikes and "Spiffy-Thwomps!"  Danny Tree has been replaced by "Spiffyguy."

Working on a detailed drawing of "Spiffy Thwomp."

Today was a slow day.  I've been sleeping poorly lately, due to some kind of repetitive stress injury to my shoulder.  I was up and down all night long and really hit the wall around 2pm.  Today was a day that I was very happy to be free of the morning rush, and the need to head back for pickup by 2:30.  Liam had a piano lesson at 1 and learned a five-finger drill along with a review of "Toccata and Fugue in D Minor."

When bedtime rolls around, Liam is allowed to read with a flashlight until he's ready to sleep.  He's been taking a book of Japanese Hiragana and Katakana to bed along with a Magna-doodle to write out the sounds and words.  Listening to him happily reciting in Japanese, I'm grateful to be able to allow him to learn as late as he wants, and wake when he's ready.
Hiragana blocks.

Sometimes it takes a show a couple of seasons to find it's feet.  This year feels like the third season of a show that finally clicked.  We know our roles and it is going to be a very exciting season.  Stay tuned. 

Thursday, August 11, 2016

Well, That's Not What I Expected. . .

I was sound asleep.  Finally.  Sometime after Liam's endless serenade before passing out, and despite at least one full-costume change due to night sweats, I had managed to fall into REM sleep.  I know it was REM sleep, because the next sequence of sounds first worked their way into my dream world (the denizens of which fought bravely to keep me unconscious).  But, "mom brain" clicked in and at my cat's "alarm mew" and the sound of something very large flapping.

I could tell from the force of the wings hitting the floor and then the window, that the mystery animal was about the size of a bat.  I lay very still.  If it was a bat, shouldn't I hear some cries?  I did not want to open my eyes, let alone wander around in the dark to be sure, but I managed to follow Jake's chirpy, hunting mews behind the bay window curtain in the living room.  To my relief, I didn't see anything dark and furry, so I stumbled to the couch and tried to find that happy, sleepy place again.

Whatever was hiding behind the curtain didn't have enough sense to stay there.  I could hear the epic battle winding around the living room.  I hoped Jake would have the decency to drag his kill onto the back porch.  Part of me felt bad for the creature being tortured to death by my indoor kitty with no clue how to finish off his prey.  And part of me was happy that my 15 yr. old cat still had the energy to hunt like that. I decided to let nature take its course.

When I finally woke up for good, I'd almost forgotten to look for what remained of last night's fight.  I might not even have seen the body as it blended so well into the colors of our dusty-blue, living room rug.  But a beam of morning light revealed the bump on the carpet.  I slowly approached the body of a moth as big as my hand.  Holy crap.  My cat killed MOTHERA! Upon further investigation, I discovered that, sadly, MOTHERA was still clinging to life, so I gently placed him in the garden and wished him swift passage.

The past few weeks have been full of funny little surprises like that.  Not bad, just unexpected.
Like pushing forward with the "becoming a spin instructor" part of my "Mom Reset" (see previous post).  Vanessa Giorgio, the owner of Lotus Kitty Hybrid Fitness, had been coaching me to lead a class.  I had to prepare examples of a spin set and floor work (abs and arms).  I was surprised by how happy I felt, revisiting some of my favorite tunes and exploring new music to add to my sets.  I was dancing around my bedroom, counting out moves and having the time of my life.

As a mental exercise, I began to construct sets to substitute teach any spin or combo classes on the Lotus Kitty schedule.  I played a game with myself, tweaking sets just before going in to take a class, as if I were being called in to teach it.

While waiting for a slot to open up or a chance to substitute, I showed up to take a 5:30 pm class and fond the sign-in sheet missing.  The class was about to be cancelled because the teacher's car had broken down.  "Hey! I'm a sub!"  A quick phone conversation with Vanessa allowed me to be the surprise guest teacher of my first class. 

And as the new school year dawns, I am surprised by how easy it is not to think about what other 5th graders will be doing.  We've been finding our rhythm, both in how we learn and how we relax.  Last year, our first "full" year of homeschooling/unschooling, I still carefully constructed a series of lessons and time tables, which relaxed more as we incorporated more music, art and time with Urban Homeschoolers.  I had expected to have to muscle through lessons and push my son and am happy to have discovered that the best learning comes from things sketched in ever so lightly - easy to erase or fill in with vibrant color.

I will sit down tomorrow to do my "sketching" and thinking about where we are and where we might go -  no longer worried about outcomes, but seeing what comes.  And it's usually better than what I expected.

Friday, July 15, 2016

Mom Reset

Homeschooling is a full-time job for all parents on this journey, but homeschooling a child with special needs is 24/7.  I used to hate that term, "24/7," since it was usually used as an exaggeration, so know, when I use it, it REALLY means all-day, every-day.  This is a commitment like no other.  I have to admit that I'm a little envious of families who can send their kids to day or sleep away camps, then enjoy some child-free time.  If Liam goes to a class or camp, I go too, since his language processing and pragmatic speech problems might get in the way of his or others' learning.

This summer, I became a roadie for my son in his rock band.  I follow along to art class (and sit in the next room, but ready if I need to step in and help re-focus him) and attend classes with Liam at Urban Homeschoolers as well.  I actually get more of a break during private, at-home sessions in piano and Mandarin, since I can go into another room and still be close enough if needed.

In the beginning, I didn't know how we'd handle all of this togetherness, but we've found a balance.  My husband and I work from home, so there are times I retreat into my studio, my husband goes to his studio and my son happily creates in his room.  I am forever grateful that we have three bedrooms - three retreats.

My husband and I also have a regular workout routine.  He does Muay Thai and I Spin (indoor cycling classes).  We've been doing it since our son was diagnosed, seven years ago.  With all that has come and gone, I'm proud of us for our commitment to fitness.

Over the past year and a half, in addition to adjusting to our homeschooling/unschooling life, I hit the "pause" in Menopause.  I was thrilled.  No more missing exercise class because of random bleeding, or watching the return of fibroids (for which I'd previously had a major surgery).  Yes, there are residual hot-flashes and night sweats, but my body is free from the hormonal roller coaster!

The celebrations were dulled slightly by an almost immediate gain of 5-7 lbs.  Even though my weight had crept up a little since Liam's birth, I had not had to buy a new pant size until last summer.  A need which revealed itself, inconveniently, as I was getting ready for a party and found that ALL of my pants were now too small.  Harmmf.

At my recent yearly exam, my GP affirmed that "from now on, maintaining weight will take a lot of work - and losing weight will require a Herculean effort."

I am of Polish/German heritage and, don't get me wrong - I love and respect my parents, but I watched their gradual transformation into Keebler Elves as they aged and am determined to "fall far from" that cookie "tree".  I decided to fight my genes to fit into my jeans.

So I said "Cue Hercules!" and made some big changes before my 52nd birthday:

First, I upped my fitness game.  I'd been toying with becoming a spin instructor for the past few years.  So I registered and did it (and got my CPR certification too).

I lost a few pounds after certification, but needed to drop a few more to avoid endless letters from Kaiser Permanente reminding me of how I was still "overweight" according to my BMI.

So, I did something I had not done in my entire adult life.  I signed up for a diet. As someone who had a teenage eating disorder, I've been wary of anything which makes me pay attention to a scale. Technically, what I was doing was a cleanse, but I knew that one sure result would be losing the final 5-10 lbs. The diet was appropriately called "Food Reset."  I realized that a reset is exactly what I wanted.  Not a reset to my 20s or 30s, but a reset to what will be my new normal. 

I know full well that it will take focus and attention to keep myself fit, but it is essential for my own well-being and for my son.  I'm almost 52.  He is 10.  He will need me for a long time.  I will need me for a long time.  And, yes, there is more than a little bit of me that wants to look as good as my husband does with his boxing-toned arms.  One final treat has been reconnecting to my favorite music as I build song-sets for classes.

How does all of this fit into unschooling?  I now understand that the core principle of unschooling is allowing children to learn based on their passions.  In that spirit, I believe it is important for Liam to see us pursuing OUR passions and taking care of ourselves.  Unschooling is a lifelong adventure that we take together and it is important for all of us to be well and strong.

If you're on this path, make sure you check in with yourself to see what YOU need, physically and psychologically and look to friends and community if you need help to get there.

If you have a favorite way to reset - let me know in the comments section!