I'm going to put it out there that I have some form of ADHD. Not so much the H part, because I am sluggish at best. But if I'm not really into something, if there are distractions, or if I am over- or under-caffeinated, I am unable to pay attention.
About a week ago, the electric company put up signs and stuck hangers on our front doorknobs saying they were going to be doing electrical work until Dec 4th. It means trenching, wiring, filling in trenches, and I don't know. It means not parking on the street for a month and dealing with NOISE.
It's a pity all my kids are too big and/or too cool to want to hang around outside watching the diggers and fork lifts and backhoes at work.
It's a bigger pity that my desk is right by the front window and they are working RIGHT OUTSIDE and the constant rumble, intermittent beeping, weird screeching scrapes, clangs, and all the rest ARE MAKING ME CRAZY. Seriously, I've been clenching my teeth all day. My head is vibrating.
It's even making the cats anxious. The younger one has been following me around all day and the older startling at every crash and clang. Of course now their anxiety seems to have worn them out, since I am sitting down and there's sunshine here...
Today is Tuesday, which means my Homeschool Boy has classes and his friend's mom drove him there. I was trying to write at home, but couldn't and kept refreshing Twitter and Facebook. I went to Starbucks (I had to take the old car and drive over a corner of grass to get out) for about an hour and a half and got a good scene written. I have more to say, but needed a break to let my head fill with the next scene and for some of that caffeine to drain out. So I came home and got more chores done, tried to watch a movie and just couldn't get into it, came back to my computer with an idea for what would happen next and....
BEEP BEEP BEEP
RUMBLE
WHIRRRRRRRR
CLANK
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE
BEEP BEEP BEEP
Dang it.
But this morning's bonus?
Purple Dump Truck.
PURPLE.
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
Thursday, November 5, 2015
Some of the worst weeks of my life: a school story
You know how Facebook kicks up memories in "On This Day" last year, two years ago, etc.? Well, in case you don't know, they do. I know they don't bring up everything. They don't even seem to bring up the things that got the most Likes and Comments. I don't know how the metric works. My favorite dog in the world died a year ago and it didn't mention it, though I know I posted about it and got a lot of condolences (and it wasn't even my dog).
So anyway, this morning, it decided that I really wanted to remember how three years ago, my middle child, then in fifth grade, refused to go to school.
He's never liked going to school, but he had become more and more difficult about it. We went through a period of him locking himself in his room or the bathroom, us dragging him out. Finally, in November 2012, he completely freaked out. It was like wrestling a wild animal, including incoherent howling and him escaping from the car.
Within a week or so, I realized we were never going to get him back to school. I never EVER wanted to homeschool ANYONE. And to end up homeschooling the one who was the biggest behavior problem? Oh joy.
He also refused to go to soccer practice or games unless he felt like it. We dragged him to the doctor, who suggested we check him into a psych ward. Boy, that was helpful. We tried counseling; I had to hold him still so he would stay in the car on the way there, but he wouldn't get out to meet with the the woman. So we only tried a few times, because $100 an hour for her to talk to a completely non-responsive child in our car? Uh, no thanks.
And since the school would do exactly nothing to help talk him into class, or find out what was wrong (I'd been pushing for dyslexia testing for YEARS), or send home work so we could do it until the situation cooled...Well, that was the end of that.
It was one of the worst periods of my life.
I registered him with a homeschool charter, but it didn't officially start until January semester. Half the time, he would freak out and lie on the couch with his back to the room. I read to him a lot that year. We were mostly feeling our way around the curriculum. Some was totally stupid (for anyone, in my opinion, but especially for someone with trouble memorizing), some was just not interesting, and some he just didn't like. Other stuff went OK.
Do you have any idea how hard it is as an author, as someone who has always loved writing down stories, to have a kid who hates hate hates writing anything?
I eventually had to quit the part time proofreading work I was doing because I couldn't keep up. I didn't get any writing done for months.
And that was the first year I lost at NaNoWriMo, after winning for several years in a row. I still haven't finished that book. I'm not sure I want to. It's a gloomy YA with a weather mage who's a maladjusted juvenile delinquent who deliberately causes a storm at his high school and some people are injured, including the girl he has a crush on. I'm not sure I even want to read it, even though my goal was to make him try to redeem himself.
So ANYWAY.
I finally got him this year in for an assessment and yes: dyslexia, ADD, auditory processing issues. And he's smart. I knew all that, but it's nice to have someone present it in language that maybe schools will pay attention to.
These days, we're looking at high schools. Like regular, mainstream high schools. In a way, I'm really worried about it. MY BABY. He had so much failure, even in the alternative-ish school he went to through half of fifth grade. I don't think he could cope with failing again now. We have to work up all the plans and accommodations and even then, I'm going to worry about him so much.
But he has gone from hitting and keening to a shy but mostly cheerful guy. He's gone from a stack of trouble to the kid I'm closest to because I spend the most time with him.
(He's not my favorite, because I don't play favorites. I would love to have the opportunity to spend as much time with my other kids one on one. There just aren't enough hours in a day and my oldest has gone all sphinx-like teenager. He'll talk to me if I press him, but what's really in his head? It's a secret.)
He's gone from being stuck in math and slipping lower because they wouldn't let him move on until he memorized his times tables to a guy who can keep up (with tutoring from his mom and using a calculator) in Algebra class. Memorizing something as intangible as a times table is really hard and even useless for some people. Heck, it was useless for me. It was through using the numbers to solve actual math problems that I learned them.
He's gone from having to do a spelling book with really stupid exercises as homework every week and still failing the tests to doing a thing called Sequential Spelling, which is more about learning the patterns for spelling and phonics by doing a list of closely related word for several days in a row. Unscrambling the spelling words in the stupid spelling book was just about the worst possible way to teach a dyslexic how to spell.
Now I look at him and instead of seeing fear of failure, I see hope.
That sounds cheesy.
But damn, I'm a great teacher.
Lately, my third child, who's only in second grade, has been begging to be homeschooled. I keep saying that NO, I don't want to have to try to juggle the two of them. The way they interact with each other, too, either silly together or making each other mad, would be 100% not conducive to learning anything at all. I know that after a period of time, they would settle in. Maybe. But JUST NO. She has a really good teacher and is learning so much stuff that there is no way I would pull her out.
It's not completely off the table of course, but it is way down my list of things I want to do, especially as I'm trying to write and develop a career, no matter how small.
So that's my long, rambling thing about November. I've already done my fictional words for the day, so decided to blog. I didn't realize I had this much to say.
So anyway, this morning, it decided that I really wanted to remember how three years ago, my middle child, then in fifth grade, refused to go to school.
He's never liked going to school, but he had become more and more difficult about it. We went through a period of him locking himself in his room or the bathroom, us dragging him out. Finally, in November 2012, he completely freaked out. It was like wrestling a wild animal, including incoherent howling and him escaping from the car.
"Epically shitty morning here today. It's 11 am and unless I physically
hold him in the car and hold his seat belt on him, DS2 isn't going to
make it to school."
Within a week or so, I realized we were never going to get him back to school. I never EVER wanted to homeschool ANYONE. And to end up homeschooling the one who was the biggest behavior problem? Oh joy.
He also refused to go to soccer practice or games unless he felt like it. We dragged him to the doctor, who suggested we check him into a psych ward. Boy, that was helpful. We tried counseling; I had to hold him still so he would stay in the car on the way there, but he wouldn't get out to meet with the the woman. So we only tried a few times, because $100 an hour for her to talk to a completely non-responsive child in our car? Uh, no thanks.
And since the school would do exactly nothing to help talk him into class, or find out what was wrong (I'd been pushing for dyslexia testing for YEARS), or send home work so we could do it until the situation cooled...Well, that was the end of that.
It was one of the worst periods of my life.
I registered him with a homeschool charter, but it didn't officially start until January semester. Half the time, he would freak out and lie on the couch with his back to the room. I read to him a lot that year. We were mostly feeling our way around the curriculum. Some was totally stupid (for anyone, in my opinion, but especially for someone with trouble memorizing), some was just not interesting, and some he just didn't like. Other stuff went OK.
Do you have any idea how hard it is as an author, as someone who has always loved writing down stories, to have a kid who hates hate hates writing anything?
I eventually had to quit the part time proofreading work I was doing because I couldn't keep up. I didn't get any writing done for months.
And that was the first year I lost at NaNoWriMo, after winning for several years in a row. I still haven't finished that book. I'm not sure I want to. It's a gloomy YA with a weather mage who's a maladjusted juvenile delinquent who deliberately causes a storm at his high school and some people are injured, including the girl he has a crush on. I'm not sure I even want to read it, even though my goal was to make him try to redeem himself.
So ANYWAY.
I finally got him this year in for an assessment and yes: dyslexia, ADD, auditory processing issues. And he's smart. I knew all that, but it's nice to have someone present it in language that maybe schools will pay attention to.
These days, we're looking at high schools. Like regular, mainstream high schools. In a way, I'm really worried about it. MY BABY. He had so much failure, even in the alternative-ish school he went to through half of fifth grade. I don't think he could cope with failing again now. We have to work up all the plans and accommodations and even then, I'm going to worry about him so much.
But he has gone from hitting and keening to a shy but mostly cheerful guy. He's gone from a stack of trouble to the kid I'm closest to because I spend the most time with him.
(He's not my favorite, because I don't play favorites. I would love to have the opportunity to spend as much time with my other kids one on one. There just aren't enough hours in a day and my oldest has gone all sphinx-like teenager. He'll talk to me if I press him, but what's really in his head? It's a secret.)
He's gone from being stuck in math and slipping lower because they wouldn't let him move on until he memorized his times tables to a guy who can keep up (with tutoring from his mom and using a calculator) in Algebra class. Memorizing something as intangible as a times table is really hard and even useless for some people. Heck, it was useless for me. It was through using the numbers to solve actual math problems that I learned them.
He's gone from having to do a spelling book with really stupid exercises as homework every week and still failing the tests to doing a thing called Sequential Spelling, which is more about learning the patterns for spelling and phonics by doing a list of closely related word for several days in a row. Unscrambling the spelling words in the stupid spelling book was just about the worst possible way to teach a dyslexic how to spell.
Now I look at him and instead of seeing fear of failure, I see hope.
That sounds cheesy.
But damn, I'm a great teacher.
Lately, my third child, who's only in second grade, has been begging to be homeschooled. I keep saying that NO, I don't want to have to try to juggle the two of them. The way they interact with each other, too, either silly together or making each other mad, would be 100% not conducive to learning anything at all. I know that after a period of time, they would settle in. Maybe. But JUST NO. She has a really good teacher and is learning so much stuff that there is no way I would pull her out.
It's not completely off the table of course, but it is way down my list of things I want to do, especially as I'm trying to write and develop a career, no matter how small.
So that's my long, rambling thing about November. I've already done my fictional words for the day, so decided to blog. I didn't realize I had this much to say.
Sunday, November 1, 2015
And now it's NaNoWriMo time for real
This year, I am writing the rest of a book I started a few months ago and got stuck on. Not totally stuck, just ran out of time once the summer Camp Nanowrimo ended. I've been editing and getting grumpier since then, but had a basic outline and some things written up about the characters and where they're going.
This is far more than I usually have when writing a story. We'll see how it goes. In my head, the book's almost done, after all, so I don't know if I have the creative drive to write it.
It's also planned to be a novella, which won't be enough words for all of Nano, anyway. But I have another book, probably a novella, that I started a few months ago, too.
Oh heavens, it sounds like I haven't been able to finish anything ALL YEAR. That's not true. For Camp Nano, I finished a book that I started a couple of years ago before starting a novella that I didn't finish.
Sigh.
Sometimes, I just can't get the continuity going. My son has recently been diagnosed with a bit of ADD. I swear as I've gotten older, I'm unable to concentrate unless something really interests me. There have been an awful lot of book club books that I've just...not...finished. Or even started, for that matter.
And here I am, writing a blog instead of writing about Henri and Fourbier.
My motto when writing Henri: WWSD? (What Would Snape Do?)
He's not that bad, especially by this point in the series. Mild spoiler: he mellows with age. A little. I think we got a good look at his soft insides in Indispensable Wife, right? (Buy Indispensable. Links to the right of this blog post. It's good, I promise.). His heartbreak at losing his lover, his fears for the future, and his unswerving loyalty for his brothers and sister.
And Fourbier, whom you will meet in the second book of Châteaux and Shadows, The Honorable Officer, is a bit of slyness and a bit of razzle-dazzle and a bit of a lost soul. Having more recently edited Honorable, I'm feeling closer to Fourbier right now, since he has a point of view in that book. But then, Henri rises to the occasion in Book 3 (still untitled), about his youngest brother, Emmanuel. Henri and Emmanuel both got their bitterness from their darling Maman.
Maman the Baronesse is a piece of work. I think I wrote her more two-dimensional than I feel. Or else I didn't really explore her much until Book 3.
Anyway, back to throwing down some more words on Les Fourberies d'Henri. Or The Pain in Henri's Neck. Or Les Courberies d'Henri, though the first and last of those make exactly no sense unless you've heard of the farce by Moliere, Les Fourberies de Scapin. And you have to know that Courberies is almost the word for Curvature in French (though it's really Courbure).
And... nope.
I already confuse people enough with the French names and words and stuff. Sorry about that.
This is far more than I usually have when writing a story. We'll see how it goes. In my head, the book's almost done, after all, so I don't know if I have the creative drive to write it.
It's also planned to be a novella, which won't be enough words for all of Nano, anyway. But I have another book, probably a novella, that I started a few months ago, too.
Oh heavens, it sounds like I haven't been able to finish anything ALL YEAR. That's not true. For Camp Nano, I finished a book that I started a couple of years ago before starting a novella that I didn't finish.
Sigh.
Sometimes, I just can't get the continuity going. My son has recently been diagnosed with a bit of ADD. I swear as I've gotten older, I'm unable to concentrate unless something really interests me. There have been an awful lot of book club books that I've just...not...finished. Or even started, for that matter.
And here I am, writing a blog instead of writing about Henri and Fourbier.
My motto when writing Henri: WWSD? (What Would Snape Do?)
He's not that bad, especially by this point in the series. Mild spoiler: he mellows with age. A little. I think we got a good look at his soft insides in Indispensable Wife, right? (Buy Indispensable. Links to the right of this blog post. It's good, I promise.). His heartbreak at losing his lover, his fears for the future, and his unswerving loyalty for his brothers and sister.
And Fourbier, whom you will meet in the second book of Châteaux and Shadows, The Honorable Officer, is a bit of slyness and a bit of razzle-dazzle and a bit of a lost soul. Having more recently edited Honorable, I'm feeling closer to Fourbier right now, since he has a point of view in that book. But then, Henri rises to the occasion in Book 3 (still untitled), about his youngest brother, Emmanuel. Henri and Emmanuel both got their bitterness from their darling Maman.
Maman the Baronesse is a piece of work. I think I wrote her more two-dimensional than I feel. Or else I didn't really explore her much until Book 3.
Anyway, back to throwing down some more words on Les Fourberies d'Henri. Or The Pain in Henri's Neck. Or Les Courberies d'Henri, though the first and last of those make exactly no sense unless you've heard of the farce by Moliere, Les Fourberies de Scapin. And you have to know that Courberies is almost the word for Curvature in French (though it's really Courbure).
And... nope.
I already confuse people enough with the French names and words and stuff. Sorry about that.
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