On Saturday night ZooDaddy and I were disturbed by some mysterious creaking noises in the other end of the house. These then developed into louder more crunchy sounds and so ZooDaddy got up to investigate. When he reached the end of the passage there was an almighty crash (I initially thought he had knocked our huge display mirror off the wall). I waited for a bit, not quite what to do, but he soon called me to come and look.
Essentially what I saw was our kitchen floor exploding in front of us. It really was the most bizarre thing! We couldn't work out what was causing it. Obviously we were scared of subsidence or shifting of the house, but there was absolutely no sign anywhere else of movement - cracks or displacement.
We took some photos and, not knowing what else to do, went back to bed.
On Sunday all seemed stable. MrTepps was initially very distressed: "Look what happened to the floor! What a mess! It's broken, the floor!" For a while he presented us with broken tiles, saying sadly, "Fix it". Thankfully, however, it didn't take him too long to get over it.
After a quiet morning (including hosting the church meeting) it all started happening again. This time ZooDaddy was ready with his phone and managed to capture it on video. Here it is.
Tuesday 29 May 2012
Sunday 15 April 2012
Learning on the Hoof
Our experience, of course, is of learning that happens outside of those parameters.
We recently visited ZooDaddy's cousin and family on their farm in the Eastern Cape. It was (as it always is) end-to-end fun - they are the most wonderful people, and the kids get dragged all over the place to do all sorts of things.
Day 1:
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| A mid-afternoon arrival is followed by a drive in the bakkie (pick-up truck) when ZooDaddy mentions he'd like to photograph some of the wild-flowers we saw while driving along the roads to the house. MissyGeorge dons an appropriate outfit |
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| Some goofing around with my camera (these shadows belong to LadyLolo and I) leads to a discussion around shadow length related to time of day and the angle of the sun. |
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| We stop to look at a particularly rich wild-flower area. LadyLolo tries various different approaches to photographing the view but is unhappy with the "boring" results". I point out that none of her photos have contrast in them and one's eye doesn't have anywhere to start when looking at the picture, or any particular way to travel through. The brain battles to pay attention properly. I suggest looking for something of interest to place in the foreground. When she looks skeptical, I take this photo using a road sign and grass in the foreground. She immediately sees the difference. The foreground initially draws the eye to the front, and once there, the eye is drawn in to follow the zigzag of the valley through the rest of the photo. |
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| Being essentially a plant hunting expedition, the focus is essentially on the wildflowers. This area is rich with a great diversity of beautiful, and locally specialised flowers. ZooDaddy's cousins know their land so well, and the species that grow there. Their obvious passion for the flora on this farm shines through, They know the species names, when they flower, where they are localised. What a perfect example of interest-driven learning. Neither have ever studied botany, but they take often specialists around this farm and teach them. I love it! |
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| A chance meeting with the neighbour who actually owns this patch of veld we were looking in gives the kids a glimpse of some of the complexities involved in making decisions regarding conservation. Despite the floral richness of this area, the reality is that this is also really good grazing land. A civil debate ensues (these are good friends) about the value of conserving an area such as this when weighed against the economic advantage of moving a fence to allow cattle into the area to graze. Not all decisions are simple. |
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| The discovery of a "centipede" by MrTepps leads to a flurry of discussion when ZooDaddy and I point out that it is, in fact, a millipede. This leads to a question by MrBiggs as to what "milli" and "centi" mean, the wonderful dawning of realisation that this applies to measurements too (millimeters and centimeters) and the introduction of other numerical prefixes such as nano and kilo. I do so love etymology. |
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| The "new" house (after fixing it up ZooDaddy's cousin's family have finally moved into the "actual" farmhouse) has an old neglected orchard. The kids are roped into collecting apples and figs. By the end of the visit they can recognise several different types of fruit trees, know about the difficulties of keeping birds and insects away from fruit, and have heard a lot about the importance of pruning the trees in order to "rejuvenate" them. In addition LadyLolo spends some time in the farm kitchen leaning how to make apple chutney and to preserve figs. There are many ways to use the fruit that is left after all that can has been eaten. |
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| The highlight of the visit for MrTepps is unquestionably rides on the back of the bakkie. His enthusiatic "All aboard the bakkie" calls forms a recurrent part of the soundtrack of our stay. |
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| Every time we visit ZooDaddy relishes the opportunity to get his hands dirty with some hands-on veterinary work and husbandry. Here he photographs a cow that had been attacked by screw worm, prior to her receiving treatment. (He has a whole collection of gory and disgusting photos. He'd call them "interesting".) |
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| Flower discovery expeditions are frequent. After seeing to the ill and injured cows we go looking for Candelabra Flowers (Brunsvigia grandiflora in this particular instance) |
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| Throughout the trip the kids have pretty much free reign with my camera. MrBiggs discovers that if he takes a series of photos of one of his sisters in motion in quick succession, then scrolls through them rapidly in viewing mode (oh, the JOY of digital!), it looks as if they were moving on the camera. What an irresistible introduction to all the knowledge and information surrounding the art of animation. We talk about how the brain sees, early animations (including the phenakistoscope which we have met before), the difference between those kinds of animation and the animation we see today. |
(Aside: All the pictures taken actually led to some later research and experimentation at home using Windows Movie Maker to make stop motion video)
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| ZooDaddy does a bit more veterinary work on the farm - vasectomising 4 rams, thereby creating so-called "teaser rams". One aspect of their education that I suspect many kids of vets, farmers and, to some extent, doctors get an early start on is reproductive biology. It's difficult to make it a taboo subject when they are surrounded by mating, birth and discussions about sexual biology. While ZooDad operates he (and ZooMomma) answer all sorts of questions regarding male reproductive physiology. All sorts.
And there it is. Life=Learning.
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Friday 6 January 2012
Milestones, Schmilestones, Smilestones
In my earlier Momming days I'd often get sucked into those conversations where everyone takes great delight in bragging about how early their precious little geniuses have reached various developmental milestones. It's understandable. Watching your little people grow and develop is almost miraculous, and to see them start to turn into little people who can get places, interact and communicate is one of the most wonderful things about parenting. With my first three it was fun (and yes, I was absolutely convinced they outclassed all the other Mommies' babies and had guaranteed futures as world-changing geniuses of some sort or the other).
And then we had MrTepps. And those conversations became increasingly torturous. Everyone else's little ones were cuddling, yabbering away, smiling, responding, saying "Mama" and "Dada" and we were more and more obviously being left behind. The painful dawning realisation that he wasn't the same as all these other babies was what eventually led us to an OT, then a neurologist and his autism-spectrum diagnosis.
I really struggled for a short while after he was diagnosed. But then ZooDaddy in his great wisdom said something very simple to me which to a great extent ended the struggle. He said, "He is who he is, and we love him." It really was simple. Nothing had changed. My mind made the shift back from viewing him as MrTepps-in-comparison-with-the-average, to MrTepps-in-comparison-with-MrTepps.
When you love an atypical child the usual developmental milestones become somewhat absurd. Milestones mark points along a road to a specific place. The majority of children are heading in roughly the same direction. My boy just ain't going that way. He is nonetheless on a journey. Compared to the journeys we made his seems a little odd. He takes detours, he heads off in odd directions, visits places in unusual orders and sometimes takes his time getting from place to place. But he is travelling, and it's also a beautiful road. And we his family have the unique privilege of being taken along with him.
My cousin's son is also on the spectrum, and despite a 5-year age gap, our two fellows have connected in a big way. I caught ZooGranny watching the two of them at play the other day, mesmerised. They just get each other. They hardly say a word, but there's this almost magical communication that goes on between them that is wondrous to behold. And they have such fun! Their shared journeying makes as much sense to them as ours does to us. It's the shared journeys that make the communication possible. It occurs to me that by focusing on getting MrTepps to reach our milestones I am missing a huge opportunity to discover another world by following his road from time to time. And by expecting him to to always find my road I am losing out on the opportunities of connection that I'd find if I made the effort to understand his.
I'm not naïve. I know that MrTepps is going to have to exist and function in a world that runs by its own rules, not his, and that will put him at a disadvantage. This means that every milestone he reaches that is in common with the majority will make his functioning that much easier. But increasingly I realise how much of an indictment that is on the narrow-mindedness of society - that narrow-mindedness which is robbing us of some wonderful people because of the "othering" that the mentality produces. The shared milestones will give him an advantage, but I wonder what we are missing out on by expecting this of him. What would the world look like if he was "typical" and we were the ones on less well-traveled roads? What would it look like if we just expanded the world to include the full range? My feeling is that it would be unimaginably richer.
This being said, MrTepps has recently had the grace to build some bridges from his road towards ours.
His language has made a leap. We now have names, and he takes great delight in using them. (His first "Daddy, LOOK", had both of us very emotional). He still borrows a lot of language and intonation from films, TV and computer games, but he has really started to play with his borrowed words. AND he uses them to express his great sense of humour. A friend of MrBiggs who wears glasses popped his head into the car the other day only to have MrTepps greet him with an enthusiastic "Hello, Harry Potter" and a peal of laughter. A small part of me wondered if he actually knew he was being funny, but I was reassured this week when the same friend was leaving after a visit. Someone told MrTepps to "say bye to Harry Potter" and was responded to with a know-it-all "s'NOT Harry Potter, s'Matthew!"
Potty training has at last happened, and as is usual with this boy, once he had made the decision that this was where he wanted to go, was pretty much instantaneous. I look back in regret now on a weekend where we first tried to keep the nappies off, and where both he and I cried (he in rage and me in despair) for two solid days before us giving up on the attempt. Friends tried to be consoling at that time with reassurances that "He won't be in nappies when he's 18", without understanding that they were in fact not helping. There are no guarantees with children like MrTepps that their journey will actually take them past every milestone that we reached. I am glad, for his sake, that he decided he wanted to call past this particular one. It will make his life in the unaccommodating world a little easier.
Most recently our boy has discovered his inner artist. This has been something of an adventure due to his choice of media. He seems to have a real preference for indelible markers (dark ones) - on walls. At the same time it has been a gift to his Momma. He has chosen to explore circles, mostly, but significant to me is that some of his circles have been faces - happy ones. When I studied child development we were told that children tend to draw things that are significant to them. To have my boy choose faces to draw seems to me to be a reaching out to us - an acknowledgment that he sees us, and our faces, as important, even though he sometimes may find it hard to let us see him looking at them.
It will be grand, though, when he decides he prefers to draw on paper.
(Or, in the light of the above,should I be expanding my world to include murals? Hmmm....)
And then we had MrTepps. And those conversations became increasingly torturous. Everyone else's little ones were cuddling, yabbering away, smiling, responding, saying "Mama" and "Dada" and we were more and more obviously being left behind. The painful dawning realisation that he wasn't the same as all these other babies was what eventually led us to an OT, then a neurologist and his autism-spectrum diagnosis.
I really struggled for a short while after he was diagnosed. But then ZooDaddy in his great wisdom said something very simple to me which to a great extent ended the struggle. He said, "He is who he is, and we love him." It really was simple. Nothing had changed. My mind made the shift back from viewing him as MrTepps-in-comparison-with-the-average, to MrTepps-in-comparison-with-MrTepps.
When you love an atypical child the usual developmental milestones become somewhat absurd. Milestones mark points along a road to a specific place. The majority of children are heading in roughly the same direction. My boy just ain't going that way. He is nonetheless on a journey. Compared to the journeys we made his seems a little odd. He takes detours, he heads off in odd directions, visits places in unusual orders and sometimes takes his time getting from place to place. But he is travelling, and it's also a beautiful road. And we his family have the unique privilege of being taken along with him.
My cousin's son is also on the spectrum, and despite a 5-year age gap, our two fellows have connected in a big way. I caught ZooGranny watching the two of them at play the other day, mesmerised. They just get each other. They hardly say a word, but there's this almost magical communication that goes on between them that is wondrous to behold. And they have such fun! Their shared journeying makes as much sense to them as ours does to us. It's the shared journeys that make the communication possible. It occurs to me that by focusing on getting MrTepps to reach our milestones I am missing a huge opportunity to discover another world by following his road from time to time. And by expecting him to to always find my road I am losing out on the opportunities of connection that I'd find if I made the effort to understand his.
I'm not naïve. I know that MrTepps is going to have to exist and function in a world that runs by its own rules, not his, and that will put him at a disadvantage. This means that every milestone he reaches that is in common with the majority will make his functioning that much easier. But increasingly I realise how much of an indictment that is on the narrow-mindedness of society - that narrow-mindedness which is robbing us of some wonderful people because of the "othering" that the mentality produces. The shared milestones will give him an advantage, but I wonder what we are missing out on by expecting this of him. What would the world look like if he was "typical" and we were the ones on less well-traveled roads? What would it look like if we just expanded the world to include the full range? My feeling is that it would be unimaginably richer.
This being said, MrTepps has recently had the grace to build some bridges from his road towards ours.
His language has made a leap. We now have names, and he takes great delight in using them. (His first "Daddy, LOOK", had both of us very emotional). He still borrows a lot of language and intonation from films, TV and computer games, but he has really started to play with his borrowed words. AND he uses them to express his great sense of humour. A friend of MrBiggs who wears glasses popped his head into the car the other day only to have MrTepps greet him with an enthusiastic "Hello, Harry Potter" and a peal of laughter. A small part of me wondered if he actually knew he was being funny, but I was reassured this week when the same friend was leaving after a visit. Someone told MrTepps to "say bye to Harry Potter" and was responded to with a know-it-all "s'NOT Harry Potter, s'Matthew!"
Potty training has at last happened, and as is usual with this boy, once he had made the decision that this was where he wanted to go, was pretty much instantaneous. I look back in regret now on a weekend where we first tried to keep the nappies off, and where both he and I cried (he in rage and me in despair) for two solid days before us giving up on the attempt. Friends tried to be consoling at that time with reassurances that "He won't be in nappies when he's 18", without understanding that they were in fact not helping. There are no guarantees with children like MrTepps that their journey will actually take them past every milestone that we reached. I am glad, for his sake, that he decided he wanted to call past this particular one. It will make his life in the unaccommodating world a little easier.
Most recently our boy has discovered his inner artist. This has been something of an adventure due to his choice of media. He seems to have a real preference for indelible markers (dark ones) - on walls. At the same time it has been a gift to his Momma. He has chosen to explore circles, mostly, but significant to me is that some of his circles have been faces - happy ones. When I studied child development we were told that children tend to draw things that are significant to them. To have my boy choose faces to draw seems to me to be a reaching out to us - an acknowledgment that he sees us, and our faces, as important, even though he sometimes may find it hard to let us see him looking at them.
It will be grand, though, when he decides he prefers to draw on paper.
(Or, in the light of the above,should I be expanding my world to include murals? Hmmm....)
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