Sandra Tayler's Blog, page 50

Mid Term Conferences

I left parent teacher conferences with no action items. Eight teachers smiled at me, told me that Gleek is a wonderful student, and couldn’t think of a thing she could be doing better. Considering how all-consuming Gleek care was last spring, I feel thrown off balance a bit. I want to go back to all the teachers and say “are you sure?” except then they would look at me strangely. Except their observations match mine. Gleek is happy. She’s getting her work done. I’d like to see her interact with friends more often, but there are hints that some of that is developing. Things will get hard again. Gleek has lots to learn, but maybe I can stop bracing and let go a little.

In contrast, Link’s parent teacher conferences left me with a long list of support items. We’ve got a learning curve to hike. He’s going to have to get used to homework almost every night. He’s got three or four times the amount of writing work than he has ever had before. This is when we have to slog through the difficult to give him the practice he needs so that these things can become easier. In the next three years we need to transition to him managing all of these things without my intervention. Yet I feel hopeful that we’re getting this under control. We’re figuring out the types of assignments and after this we’re going to be able to work ahead so that we don’t end up with some nights piled high with homework.

Funny how one child is sailing clear and I’m certain hard is coming, while the other is in the midst of hard and I feel confident it will soon get easier. My brain is weird.

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Loose Thoughts from Today and Yesterday

We had lunch with some friends whose Kickstarter has just funded. They spoke to us about the things they are considering as options for fulfillment. I listened and strongly advised them to contract out the fulfillment. Their time is better spent making another creative thing than in sorting through invoices and packing boxes. To emphasize my point, I noted how much writing I have not been doing in the past few years and most particularly this year. I can’t blame all of that on work. This has been a heavy parenting year, but I can definitely point at shipping and convention managing as tasks that sap my creative energy which I would be delighted to give up. Fortunately we’ve entered a business lull where I can take some time to consider options.

Parent Teacher conference filled up my afternoon. It was my chance to talk to all of Link’s teachers and to identify exactly which assignments Link has missed comprehending. He’s good at recognizing things that are due next class time, but once-per-term assignments always surprise him at the end. We’re still identifying trouble spots with particular assignments. The good news is that we’ve reached a good accommodation with the one teacher who seemed unwilling to listen to Link. Mostly this was accomplished by Link facing the homework and realizing that he can do the assignments. Also the teacher was happy to compromise on the length of the journal writing assignments, he has one page to write instead of three. I’ve identified that I need to teach Link to read every paper handed to him in class. At least three times the necessary information for the longer deadline assignments has been in Link’s hands since the second day of class, but he didn’t know because he didn’t read the paper. I actually expect this to be a significant challenge for him because the thought of writing assignments, even ones far in the future, can feel overwhelming. So I need to teach him how to recognize a future assignment, place it on a future day in the calendar, and then not worry about it until then. Half of public school is learning how to task manage and those skills will be useful forever. My primary goal for Link this year is that he do all of his assignments and turn them in on time.

I vacuumed yesterday for the first time in I’m not sure how long. This morning I folded laundry. All the little things, which I’ve had no time nor energy to do, are beginning to get done. Order is slowly returning to my house. I have a small hope that it will also return to my mind, though I’m reluctant to let that hope exist. It feels like I haven’t had peace or routine for almost a year. Even then it was a very busy routine for the year before that. Long ago, back when I decided that Gleek and Patch needed to switch schools more than we needed a light homework load, I knew that I was in for a couple of crazy years. Patch is still in that heavy homework program, so I’ve got a couple years more. Except, Patch is mostly fine with the work. As long as he is not feeling anxious about disappointing people, he just does the work happily. I see that and I feel the faint trickle of hope that maybe this year will not be so bad. Maybe Gleek will just be happy and not anxious this year. Maybe Link and I will establish homework rhythms and he’ll figure out how to find things he likes in his high school. Maybe Patch will have a happy year full of growth. Kiki is out on her own and weathering her ups and downs like the independent adult that she is, but she still likes us, misses us, and calls us frequently. Maybe Howard will just settle into working happily and will plow through everything he has planned for the next few months. Maybe none of my fears will be realized. Maybe. I want to squelch that entire paragraph. Surely it is better to just expect things to be difficult, and be pleasantly surprised. Except that the expectation of difficulty weighs on me. I’ve been carrying it for quite a long time and I wonder if, maybe, it would be okay for me to put it down. Maybe it is okay to let go.

My front room feels empty without boxes of merchandise in it. I look around at the walls I painted last January and remember that I had other plans for making this room pretty. I also look around and realize how much I hope that I can keep the merchandise out of this room. I would love it if my home spaces could belong to my family without all of us having to dodge business all of the time. Having offices is fine, but so often the business spills into all of the living spaces. Achieving more separation may take a while, but at least I recognize it as a thing I want.

I went to bed at 10:30 last night. This means the 6:30 wake up arrived after 8 full hours of sleep. Today was a most effective day on many fronts. I think I’ll attempt to repeat that feat. Which means now is the time to put away computer things.

Comments are open on the original post at onecobble.com.

Clearing Away the Clutter

I need a few more days like today, where I ignore my organized to-do list and instead just take care of the things which are right in front of me. For the first time in three months my front room has no merchandise or convention equipment in it, I can walk across my storage room without dodging or tripping, and my kids got most of their homework done. Of course there are still piles of things to take care of, but I begin to believe that catching up might be possible. Of course on Monday I’ll look at my list again and the dream will be over. Or maybe I really am starting to catch up.

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Twenty Year Reunion

I did not go to my 20th high school reunion. We didn’t go to Howard’s either. In both cases travel was expensive and the timing was not good. Then there was the fact that I didn’t feel a deep emotional need to go. I was not needing to reconnect with my younger self because I was far too busy with my current life.

This evening I went to a twenty year reunion for a comedy troupe, the Garrens, that performed on my college campus during the first years of my married life. I don’t remember how it came about, but Howard ran sound for the troupe and Howard’s brother, Randy, was part of the group. Every Friday night we would pack up the sound gear and I would watch the shows while Howard worked his mixer. I got to be a reasonably good assistant with toting the gear, but for the most part I just stayed out of the way, present but not participating. I wasn’t a member of The Garrens, I was adjacent.

Upon arriving at the reunion, my first surprise was that anyone recognized me at all, but they did. My second task was to recognize the faces of people I sort-of used to know now that they have twenty years more experience written across their features. By the end of the evening the faces just looked like the people I knew and photographs started looking really young. A comedy troupe reunion is a true pleasure because everyone who spoke was funny. I laughed a lot. Yet more important than the laughter was the real love and connection between all of these friends. They were family for each other during those formative college years. Many of them have continued to visit and spend time together through all the time that followed. I got to witness all of that.

Naturally I spent some time thinking about myself and my life twenty years ago. This is the point of reunions really, a chance to connect past with present and to recognize the passage of that time and the accumulation of experience. So much has gone fuzzy. I know that we ran sound for show after show after show, but I remember little of the shows themselves. They blur together. I remember sometimes going out to eat or laughing with the troupe members, but at that point in my life I was not good at building friendships or making lasting connections. I lost track somehow.

When the evening ended, Howard and I walked out through the Wilkinson center, which was alive with college students in the midst of Friday night antics, just like it used to be when I went to college. We looked at each other and knew that we are now the old people, the ones who show up on campus for events and then go away again. I’m actually okay with that. Ten years ago, or even five, I felt a longing to be part of that college energy, when so much was beginning. Tonight we walked on past, glad to be where and who we are. College life sounds exhausting. I like the life we’ve built.

It occurs to me that many times in my life I am the one standing next to the main event. Howard was involved with musical groups and I got to tag along. Howard ran sound for The Garrens, I assisted. When Howard took up cartooning, I’ve gone along for that ride too. I am an instinctive facilitator. It is only in the past seven years or so that I’ve started building my own things instead of coasting in the wake of other people’s things. Twenty years ago no one in The Garrens knew how much that being in a comedy troupe would affect their lives. I wonder which of the many things I’m doing now will be the one that changes everything for Sandra of twenty years from now.

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Accomodations for Link in High School

When Link was in first grade his teacher had a system. When kids needed to complete work at home, she had them put the work into their cubby. Each day the kids were to put the contents of their cubby into their backpack. Link was not very good at that last part. In fact he discovered that if he just left all his papers in his cubby, then Mom knew nothing about the papers. It was a great system, he’d not finish work at school, stick it into his cubby and then it ceased to exist as far as he was concerned. Life was great. Then one day his older sister decided to pick him up from class rather than meeting him at the car. She saw the cubby full of papers and the day of reckoning had begun. Mom made him complete all of the papers over the next week, AND she conspired with the teacher so that she could know every day if school work was completed at school. Link was cornered in a way that meant the easiest way out was to complete the assigned work. Suddenly he started working. We’d found the right solution and the road blocks to learning vanished.

I’m thinking about this today because I just met with Link’s history teacher and discovered that Link has a pile of incomplete work for that class. Writing assignments are never his favorite and this particular teacher talks a mile a minute, which is difficult for Link to follow. His instinctive reaction is to stop and try to wait it out. Fortunately at sixteen he is far more self-aware than he was at six. I’m able to make him a partner in the solutions, some of which sound a lot like “Yup, that’s tough. Deal with it.” The other solutions involve figuring out where in the teaching/learning process things are breaking down. Also I have to help the teacher understand that “Why didn’t you write anything on the quiz paper?” is actually quite a complex question which requires my son to introspect and then form thoughts into words. He wants to answer, but needs more than thirty seconds to figure out what that answer needs to be, because before she asked the question he hadn’t put any thought into the issue. Taking the quiz felt impossible and sorting is necessary to figure out why. Then maybe the next quiz will be possible.

Link’s teacher wanted to see his IEP paperwork and to know what accommodations are on it. I’m not really sure in detail. I’m confident that they are tailored to what was necessary in junior high, but will have to be revised for high school. I know they include his auditory processing disorder and his ADHD. I’m only now beginning to see what might need to be on the paperwork for high school. The teacher quite obviously felt at a loss without it. She wanted a check list “do this, this, and this, then you will have helped this student.” Only we’ve always used the IEP as a sort of fluid guideline and mostly worked with specific teachers to find solutions for individual classes. In one class he doesn’t need any help at all, in another we have to spend lots of time making things work. Most of the difference is in the relationship that Link has with the teacher. If Link feels relaxed and comfortable in a classroom, he doesn’t need help. When he gets stressed, he shuts down, stops working. Unfortunately I can’t put “don’t make him stressed” on the IEP paperwork. I can include “speak slowly,” “face him when you talk,” and “write down all his assignment instructions” Yet I know that even when these things are on the paperwork some teachers will adapt and do them without trouble. Other teachers will intend to do them, believe they are doing them, but they aren’t.

All of which is why I’m meeting with school administration tomorrow morning to discuss rearranging Link’s schedule. A few changes could make a world of difference. We may have to remove him from the class of a generally excellent teacher because that teacher does not have the right rapport with him. This, of course, lead me to worry that I’m over-helping. Growth comes from struggle. Link needs to learn how to keep going in spite of mental road blocks. He needs to learn more flexibility when he doesn’t like the form of an assignment. He needs to learn to recognize when he is avoiding work and consciously decide to do that work anyway. He needs to learn to turn assignments in on time instead of constantly doing them late and being allowed to get away with it because his IEP allows him extra time. I can see Link beginning to learn all of these things. He is amazing and smart, but I know that if the learning is too hard, then his tendency to shut down will kick in.

This is why I’m not going to tomorrow,s meeting with a list of things I want. Instead I’m going with a list of thoughts and options. I’m going with a hope that additional perspectives will bring out even more possibilities. Somewhere there has to be a good balance between accommodation for Link’s real disabilities and requiring him to do hard things so that he can grow. And it is entirely possible that I’m wrong about what he needs to learn and how he needs to learn it. That wouldn’t be a first. I’m still learning, trying to figure out this parenting thing. I would dearly love to find the right combinations so that the road blocks vanish and Link can just go.

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Learning and Growing

Today was far less interrupted than yesterday, for which I am grateful. Link came home happy for the first time since school started. His math teacher put some accommodations into place for him and we have a meeting with an administrator on Friday to figure out what else needs to be done. We’ve finally settled into enough of a routine that we can see which troubles were adaptation issues that go away by themselves and which were going to be ongoing challenges.

I also spoke with Patch’s teacher. She taught Gleek two years ago and this fall I told her that Patch was quite different. Today she says she sees more similarities than differences, which makes sense to me. It is like the way that people say all my children look alike, but they look very distinct to me. My eye tunes out the similarities. So the teacher and I are both seeing Patch’s low-level anxiety. We intend to watch it and I need to take some steps at home to help Patch feel in control. I don’t think we’ll see anything like the intensity we saw from Gleek, because: differences. I just have things to keep an eye on.

Gleek read a sad book today, one that affected her mood. It was a literary type book that explores real-world problems and doesn’t necessarily have a happy ending. She says she is glad that she read it. I can see how the sadness in the book reached in and pulled up some of the sadnesses that she has inside, the ones she’s been ignoring because life is pretty easy for her right now. I know we still have things to work on with her. She needs solid skills for managing anxiety and stress. This gives me the first hint of how we’re going to find and address those needs while life is happy. Time for me to find the right books. Ramona the Pest helped her in kindergarten, we’ll find another book for now.

After two weeks of college happiness Kiki hit her first snag. She miscalculated her financial resources and needed to call home for help sorting it out. Truth is that she’d already solved the problem before calling, she just needed someone to double check and make sure her solutions were good. It is the same sort of double-check that Howard and I give to each other all the time. So she’s having fun and she likes having adult freedom, but sometimes adulthood is scary and she misses home. Learning how to be an adult is a large portion of what I expect she’ll learn in college this year.

I managed to end my day with more order than I began it, which is a first for the month of September. Howard spent the day in the land of painful charlie horses, which was not our favorite. Here’s hoping tomorrow can be less charliehorsey and more get stuff done.

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Interrupt Driven Day

I planned for today to be a catch up on all the work day. Instead it was an interrupt-driven catch up on all the community and parenting stuff day. It was the kind of day where I get to the end of it having done important things all day long, but not having crossed of a single to-do item. I know I chose the right things, but that part of my brain which uses task completion as a measure is very frustrated by this sort of day.

And I’m tired, because the parent stuff is only begun, not concluded. My girls are doing well for themselves, though Kiki had an emotionally rough day. My boys both need me to follow through, track their homework, check their grades, and enforce homework time.

I also wish for the space to properly process all of the things. Because I should write an informational post on the challenges and accommodations to help my son with Auditory Processing Disorder as he faces public high school. The adjustment has been rough, partially because we’re still figuring out what resources and options are available. We’re also still identifying problem spots. At least this time I’m paying attention. Kiki’s transition into high school hit crisis level before we found some solutions. I could also write up how much I disliked having to email the 5th grade teacher to confess that my son was behind on his work because I’ve been too busy to tell him to do it. As long as I remind him, the work is cheerfully completed.

Tomorrow I need to send all of my kids to school (had kids home sick the last two days), ignore all the phone calls (except the ones from schools about kids), and finally put away the mess of things left over from Worldcon. Then I need to do all the post-convention accounting and remember what comes next fore the Jay Wake Book project. After that I need to work on layout for Longshoreman of the Apocalypse and sort my storage room. After that there are weeds, dishes, and laundry. Maybe I’ll feel caught up by Friday. If I hurry.

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How You Walk Matters as Much as What You Wear

I spent three days helping run a booth at SLC Comic Con. There were lots of people in costumes, everything from professionally created and modeled down to made at home by a ten year old. I quickly discovered that some of the costumes impressed me while others did not. The difference did not lay in the quality of workmanship, nor whether the body shape of the person who wore the costume matched the character portrayed, though those things did have an influence. What consistently caught my eye was how a person walked while in costume. There were many people dressed as Loki who passed by my table, some of them in full kit with the horned helmet, but the core element of the Loki character is his arrogance. He honestly believes he should rule the universe, this means he must walk like he owns the floor. The very best Loki I saw was a woman shorter than myself (I’m 5’3″). She did not have the height to be imposing, yet people got out of her way. She had Loki down. Lord Vader is another character whose clothes are actually ridiculous, but when the person in the suit stalks, then ridiculous transforms into ominous.

The importance of body motion holds true even when the costume in question is that of a doctor, or sales clerk, or writer, or parent, or any other set of clothing. When you walk confidently, people assume you have authority. If you hunch a little bit and don’t meet people’s eyes, then you’re more likely to be able to pass unnoticed through a crowd. There are dozens of things you can do with your body to either draw attention or deflect it. The really cool thing is that body control is a learned skill. Though during the process of learning you will have stages of high self-conscousness, eventually the different ways of presenting yourself become like clothes that you put on when needed. At comic con my role was to be a booth support person. I was also pretty stressed by the sheer quantities of people at the event. I focused my energies on sliding through the crowds or staying in the background at the booth. Sometimes I stepped forward into a sales role where I needed to be personable and meet people’s eyes. At other events I am a presenter and author, then I dress and walk in ways that draw attention and make people more likely to listen to the things I have to say. Then I go to church and my job is to be a connected and supporting part of the congregation. Each of these roles requires different clothing and different personal presentation. If I just put on the clothes without changing the way I walk, I halve the effect.

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My Day at SLC Comic Con in Tweets and Pictures

8am: For as long as I’m having to wait, I hope this is the breakfast burrito of champions

10am: Half the effectiveness of a costume is in how you walk when you wear it. Lord Vader looks ridiculous unless he stalks like he owns the floor

11am: My inner introvert is very glad we have booth space into which the crowd can not intrude. Comic con is packed today.

12pm: Yup. Really really glad to have the booth to shield from the crowd. Fun people watching though.

1pm: I found Waldo!

1:30pm: Cutest Dr. Who cosplay ever.

2pm: I’ve been told the fire marshal is regulating entry to the building. No one goes in until someone leaves. Line still around block.

2pm: Some of the announcements over the loud speaker must have stories to explain why they’re necessary. So glad I’m not security at this event.

2pm: Every thirty minutes the announcer is pleading with parents not to lose their children. The rest of the time is lost person announcements.

3pm: Dealers room aisle becomes impassible at 10 min past the hour. At half past it flows slowly. Clogs up again at quarter to. #ConTrafficReport

4pm: It appears that running a booth at comic con brings out my inner tweeter. I’m noisy today.

4pm: I’ve now seen two attractive red headed men who could have rocked Captain Carrot costumes. Lost opportunity.

It appears that most of my tweets were focused around the crowds. It was crazy crowded, but there was other amazing stuff too. I’ll have to write up a more considered post when I’m not quite so tired.

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A Few Thoughts from Mid-Salt Lake City Comic Con

We’re halfway through Salt Lake City Comic Con. It is being a good show. The crowds and energy are good. I can tell that we’re going to break even. I can tell that we’re reaching into a new market with people who have never heard of us before and might be interested. From a business standpoint it is exactly what it needs to be. I wish I wasn’t already exhausted.

Howard still hasn’t properly recovered from WorldCon and SLCC is a real marathon effort of meeting and greeting. I’m still tired from running the back end of both GenCon and WorldCon. I’m tired from planning all the logistics and from carrying all the worry to make sure things go well. He’s staying in a hotel in SLC because that is the only way for him to be rested enough to give his energy to the fans for twelve hours per day. I’m commuting from home (an hour drive each direction) because someone has to tell the kids to go to bed and to get them off to school in the morning. Next week I’ll have to figure out all the homework that has been ignored in the last few days.

Tomorrow I’ll be at SLCC from 7 am until 7pm when the dealer’s hall closes. Then I’ll stay however-long after that to help break down the booth and haul everything home. Tomorrow is my son’s 16th birthday. I probably won’t see him all day. He’s a great kid and very understanding, but I wish I could do better for him than asking him to watch his siblings while I’m gone. So today I’m at home trying to set things up so that the birthday can be happy here at home. I’m disappointed in myself that so many of the solutions involve sugar. I’ll try to fix that some other day, today I’m too tired to change bad habits.

Today I am also incredibly grateful for the kind people who have given their time as booth help. It is hard to ask people to spend grueling hours on a show floor, because I know how exhausted it makes me. Yet they come, and I’m glad.

I’m grateful for my son, who has calmly and willingly told me it is okay. We’ve planned a proper celebration for next week with his friends. He is such a good person.

I’m grateful for the all the friends and fans who stop by the booth to say hello. They are the reward, the reason that all this effort is worth something. They are glad to see us and make us glad to be there even though we are exhausted.

Onward.

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