What's in a Name?

5.17.2010

I felt needed

I am lucky enough to be a volunteer at the Children's Hospital near our home.  Yesterday I had my first shift on the oncology floor, and surprisingly I really look forward to going back.  I thought working in oncology would be really sad, but it wasn't.  I have worked on other floors before and I have always felt useful, but yesterday I felt more than useful.  I felt needed.  Many of the kids that I met were too sick or too medicated to want to interact with anyone, but the few who were having good days seemed so glad to have someone new to joke around with them and pay them some attention.  Unlike on the other floors, these kids and their families have been in the hospital for weeks or months, many times over.  They have seen all the movies; they have read the books, done the crafts and they are just plain tired of being at the hospital.  I found myself being a total goof with the teenagers; teasing them like I would my nieces and nephews and doing what I could to make them laugh.  I played with the littler ones the way I would play with my own; talking about Disney princesses and favorite colors.
One family that I met yesterday stays in one hospital room together while their child is in treatment.  Four of them sleep in that small room each night before Dad takes the older one off to school and goes to work for the day.  I spent a lot of my time with their sweet daughter, who was happy to tell me what the tooth fairy brought her, or show me her silly bands, but I also talked with her parents a lot.  We talked about our kids.  We talked about their schools and homework.  We talked about what they like to eat or wear or the differences in raising boys versus girls.  We chatted like friends at the park or the soccer field, only we were in a hospital room with a little girl who had a tube in her chest and was losing her hair.
My friend from high school has a son in remission from leukemia.  She made the comment to me that most of the hospital volunteers are college age or senior citizens, so having a 'mom' as a volunteer would be great.  I thought she meant it would be great for the kids, but I realize now that it's great for the parents also. 
Yesterday when I was leaving they asked when I would be back again, and I told them not for another month.  The mom said that they should be there.  While I certainly look forward to seeing that amazing family again, I really wish that instead they will be happily at home.

5.15.2010

song

I find this song both haunting and beautiful.  It brings me to tears. 

I am 6 years old in the back of my mother's car
and I will be 7 in December
She will be gone by the beginning of next spring
and I will be left to remember
To remember

I ask my little questions
and she laughs a little laugh
But she won't tell me where we're going
She looks in my eyes with her eyes in the mirror
And says, "Some things you're better off not knowing"
Not knowing

But I don't know what her voice sounds like
I don't know what her skin feels like
I only know what it might feel like
When a mother holds her daughter
When that mother knows she's leaving this life
Leaving this life

She's left with that reflection of me at 6 years old
And I have her eyes in the mirror
Well she and I, we are defined by what we have lost
Don't you wonder whose loss is dearer
Dearer

She doesn't know what my voice sounds like
She doesn't know what my skin feels like
And I only know what it might feel like
When a mother holds her daughter
When that mother knows she's leaving this life
Leaving this life

And I don't know what her voice sounds like
And I don't know what her skin feels like
I only know what it might feel like
When a mother holds her daughter
When that mother knows she's leaving this life
Leaving this life

"Leaving this Life" - Lori McKenna
 
 

5.10.2010

intelligence

There are many ways to measure intelligence.  Does a person's achievement really reflect their capabilities?  What does it mean to be 'gifted'?  And how does a 'gifted' child fit into the curriculum of a 'regular' school?

Andy and I have been toiling with these questions for the past few months, ever since Alex's preschool suggested that we get him IQ tested, because they thought he might be 'gifted'.  Alex is very bright, there is no denying that.  He has been doing 100 piece puzzles on his own since he was four, and he can build the most amazing things with blocks and legos.  When we do first grade math homework aloud with Devin, Alex is often as quick or quicker to answer the questions, and a couple months before his fifth birthday he began to read.  I think our first reaction would have been to assume that Alex was just trying to keep up with his brother by doing the things that Devin does.  However, a close friend and educator had mentioned the same thing to us months before; she also said she thought he might be gifted.  We began to wonder if there was something else at play.  If Alex was truly gifted, we would need to find out so that we could ensure that he's being challenged appropriately in school.  So we met with a psychologist and an education specialist, both of whom suggested that Alex be IQ tested, and we started investigating our options for his education.  Can the school that we plan to send him to accommodate gifted kids?  Is there space for him in the gifted academy, even though we are not in that district?  Does our own district have any options to offer?  Is Alex truly gifted??????
Months ago, when we initially discussed this, my friend was quick to warn me that gifted kids don't always do well in school. They don't always follow along with the class and are often curious and impulsive. They excel in what they are interested in, and sometimes disregard the rest. She likened Devin to a "high achiever", meaning he's a smart kid that will work hard and do well in school. This is rather familiar to Andy and I, since I think we both fall into that category.  But gifted kids... well we all have something to learn.

For the purposes of Alex's evaluation, the psychologist said that they consider an IQ of 140 to be gifted (100 is average).  She also mentioned that most Catholic grade schools teach to an IQ level of 115 or 120.  Alex was tested last week.  While we are awaiting the official results, the psychologist indicated that he tested at about 135 for non-verbal and about 120 for verbal.  While he may qualify for the gifted academy, we learned that they will not take students from other districts.  However, he is still above (or at the high water mark) for the Catholic school's curriculum.  We are waiting for her full report before we approach his future Kindergarten.  Although he is not considered gifted, with that IQ he is considered to be in the top 2.2% of his peers and we want to ensure that the school knows what kind of special little guy they are getting in the fall.

5.05.2010

toddler love

Isabel loves me.  For a two-year-old to love her mother is no surprise, but at times I am overwhelmed by her love.  It is absolutely wonderful to know that this beautiful little person thinks I am the center of the world (or rather, that she is the center of my world), but it can be a little troublesome as well.  Since she was a year old she would push her brothers out of my lap when we were cuddling, only now she accompanies that action with an angry, "My Mommy!".   I can't count the times that she refused basic care from her father in deference to me.  Tonight, after insisting that I get her out of her car seat, she flat out would not let Andy give her a bath.  She ran from him yelling, "No, no, Papa.  Mommy give Izzy bath.".  The men of the house all seem to take these antics in stride.  However, I worry that she will eventually hurt Andy's feelings, and I certainly feel like I miss out on some quality time with the boys.  I cannot read with them at bedtime without her planting herself right in the middle of the action. 
But I adore my little girl.  She's funny and sweet and such a joy to all of us.  There are times when I literally yearn for her cuddles and affection, but my feelings pale in comparison with the fierce intensity of her love.  I admit, there is a part of me that hopes this will never change.

5.03.2010

don't know how they do it...

I ran nearly eleven miles yesterday morning.  Unlike when I was training for the half-marathon last fall/winter, the humidity was about a gazillion percent and I really felt the difference.  When I got home, all I wanted to do was lay down.  In the grass, on the floor... I did not care.  I was just completely wiped.  My clothes were soaked to the point where I could have wrung them out and I was a mess.  It was all I could do to keep moving that morning as I puttered around the house, cleaning and doing laundry.  I held to together until Izzy and Alex went down for a nap, and then I did the same. 
I am certainly learning that there is a direct correlation between the number of miles I run and the amount of time I need to lay down afterward.  Let's just say that a full marathon is probably not in my future.  But it got me to thinking... how do people manage?  How do people train for something that requires hours of constant activity, and still work full time and care for their families? 
No wonder it takes someone exceptional to run a marathon or (OMG!) an Ironman.  There is a part of me that wistfully imagines myself completing an Ironman, but the reality is that I cannot imagine the impact that all of the training would have on the rest of my life. 
For now I will just remain in awe of those who compete in the ultra endurance events.  I will do another half marathon (or maybe two) this year and be content knowing that we all do the best that we can...