Sundays is now kickboxing day. No surprise that Boudie loves it and is progressing well in class. Unfortunately the other two can't cope with class protocol just yet so we have to shell out for private lessons for them, after Boudie's Sunday morning class.
Zeno has got a couple of difficulties which he is managing fantastically - one is the fact that no hoods are allowed in the dojo, the other is just the whole martial arts discipline of the dojo. The sensai is being very understanding, he gave Zeno a headguard to wear in place of the hood which Zeno accepted quite easily; he continues to wear the jacket for the first part of the lesson but after building up a sweat it comes off, and so does the headguard which is quite surprising to me after all the brouhaha at school about insisting on keeping the hood up (sometimes pulled down over his face as well). I can see that Zeno does feel very uncomfortable and self-conscious at the beginning of the lesson as there are usually a lot of people around, some of them have just finished a class and are leaving, but some will stay and another private lesson will go on in the other half of the dojo, and of course there will be other sensais around. But he is very motivated to do kickboxing, and seems to get sufficiently into it so that he is able to forget to be self-conscious. Zeno's not all that physical or sporty usually, apart from rollerblading in the park. The sensai is really working him hard and trying to build up his fitness levels, and we'll be working on that during the rest of the week too, as well as trying to improve his diet. Not easy as he has a very limited range of fruit and veg that he will tolerate (no cooked veg at all) and he craves carbohydrates and sugary fruit juices. He likes his meat though, as long as it's dry and not saucy........he's got a lot of potential as he seems to have inherited his father's physique, if he decided to take up a sport I think he could do very well.
Zoudie loves kickboxing but only in the house, he refuses even to do the private lessons with his brothers, I did try to explain to the sensai that he needed to just sit and observe for the first few weeks and eventually he might feel comfortable enough to join in, but he kept trying to include Zoudie - in a nice way, just getting him to 'give me five' and asking him to punch the pads ten times just from where he was sitting on the sidelines, but Zoudie didn't like it. He cooperates because he doesn't want to cause a fuss which to him would make things worse, but he doesn't like it and gives me grief afterwards, all the way home and for hours afterwards. And then when Sunday approaches - say from Friday - he starts perseverating about not wanting to go to kickboxing, crying and begging, and it's just like school all over again. So far (it's only been 3 Sundays) we have been ignoring him and telling him we've got to go there, no choice, and he doesn't have to do any kickboxing, but he says "I don't like that man talking to me". Today Zeno was talking in the lesson about how he was so hot and tired his brain had become a black hole, or something like that - and I said to his Dad "Zeno just can't stop the yakkety-yak" and Zoudie said "yes and the man too can't stop yakkety-yak". I need to try and persevere and carry on bringing him but it's quite draining and so much easier to just say "okay don't come stay at home with Baba".
I'm so tempted to have a go myself, it looks like great fun and ages since I did anything physical.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Grump in the Lift
Today got into the lift with Zeno, going to school for the afternoon lessons. The lift stopped on its way down, at the fourth floor and before the door opened he muttered (very loud mutter) "Jerks!". I barely had time to rebuke and warn him before the doors opened fully and our neighbors from the lower floor got in. They are a lovely elderly couple, very pleasant. Zeno's response to their greeting was to turn his back on them and say angrily "TOO MANY PEOPLE IN THIS LIFT!". I tried to smooth things over by saying he was feeling a bit claustrophobic. "No school today?" the man asked, and I said we were going in for afternoon lessons. "I take it he doesn't want to go?" the man smiled, as his wife nudged him and said "shush, shush, don't". "It's okay he doesn't mind too much" I said but Zeno immediately contradicted me by saying in his angry voice "I DO MIND!!! I DO!!"
I shouldn't feel upset or embarrassed but I do. I think it's more of a dread that they (or whoever) might judge Zeno for appearing to be rude and uncaring. One of the reasons we try to teach our children good manners is so that they will be liked and accepted by others. As a naive young mother I had thought that all I had to do was model good manners and then remind my children a few (hundred) times. I used to think that children were rude and selfish and so on because that's how their families treated them. They didn't have the benefit of a good example, was all. Oh how we do judge!
Anyhow, Zeno got a lecture as we sat on the bus. There are 6 billion people on the planet and if everyone is grumpy to everyone else all the time it makes life so unpleasant. I (I said) like to have a positive experience every time I come into contact with others, whether it is my family, the neighbors, the shopkeeper etc. I am polite and friendly to people and when people are polite and friendly back it makes me feel good. If people are grumpy and rude to me, it makes me feel upset. Life is more pleasant if only we can be nice to each other.......and so on (and on!). It didn't seem to make any impact on Zeno, sadly. He just gave that low growl that Marge Simpson taught him (bad habits are easier to pick up, it seems). The final, the ultimate argument in favour of making more effort to be pleasant to people and not grumpy, is of course that it pleases God, and the other kind of behaviour doesn't. We've spoken before (okay, I've spoken before) about how this life is short, although it doesn't feel like it when you're 12. We are alive for eternity. This life on earth is only the blink of eye, less than the blink of an eye, compared to eternity. This is a very good reason for being patient and forbearing about whatever befalls us during our lifetime on this earth. Being patient, not rising to angry feelings, accepting whatever we cannot change - this is what makes us successful in the context of eternity. People who are greedy and selfish often become powerful and "successful" in this life. But success in this life is no guarantee of success in the next life - which is infinitely longer than the present one. The only way to guarantee eternal happiness, rather than eternal sorrow, is to seek to please God in all our actions. Pleasing God means being patient and kind to people, not being selfish and rude. Forgiving people when they upset you or do you wrong, just as you hope God will forgive you. True, it's not easy. But, it can be worked on. With a little practice, we can get better at all of the actions that please God. Even if we fail sometimes, He will reward us for the efforts we make, and when we ask for His forgiveness it is freely given.
Insha'Allah I will keep telling Zeno and one day it might bear fruit.......
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Zudie Update September 2011
It's been a very eventful year for Zudie. Exactly a year ago, September 2010, he started at a special school for moderate learning difficulties (MLD), a school which is transitioning to being an autism specialist provision from next year. On paper, and on first inspection, the school seemed fine. Adequate, I thought, reasonably good. The local authority had at the last minute suggested Zudie attend a mainstream school "with support", and then demonstrated why dealing with them has been so frustrating over the years by withdrawing their suggestion once I had provisionally agreed. I had made it clear to them that the "support" for Zudie should be SEN qualified, possibly that's what made them change their minds. In my experience special needs classroom assistants have no qualifications (in anything, let alone SEN or general education) and minimum training/support and their wages is pitifully low. Of course there are some people who do a wonderful job despite all this but when it comes to my kids' education I have no intention of crossing my fingers and hoping for the best.
So Zudie started at this school, and he was supposed to have a "gradual and supported integration". I took him to school for the first week and was provided transport there and back (taxi). He also had his ABA tutors with him for some of the time. In the second week we were encouraged to get him used to travelling on the school bus. The bus escort was (is) an absolutely lovely lady, very kind and affectionate and sympathetic. So that did help, and he was able to travel by bus with a minimum of fuss. Unfortunately once he arrived at school the atmosphere was less caring/supportive. The "gradual and supported integration" went by the wayside as the school seemed as keen to get everyone supporting Zudie out of the classroom as quickly as possible. I was very conscious that the class teacher and even more so the classroom assistants found it a strain having us around. I tried not to get involved in the class too much and just be sitting in a corner where Zudie could see me and be reassured. The ABA tutors I think were encouraged to do the same. When the teaching staff suggested I leave the classroom for short periods I agreed, keen to co-operate with the experts. It all sounded reasonable to me, after all we were only there in the very short term (we had been given a 4 week transition plan for Zudie). In the event we were only tolerated for 2 & a half weeks. The school decided that Zudie was doing so well that it was in his best interests to withdraw the extra support in double-quick time. I hadn't gone back after the first week, I wasn't really welcome and I was made to feel my presence was a hindrance to Zudie's progress. Zudie's ABA tutors were dismissed in a similar fashion, so that after two and a half weeks he was expected to manage full-time at school without any familiar faces to reassure him or give him confidence. Unfortunately he hadn't bonded at all with any of the classroom assistants or the teacher, in fact he expressed extreme dislike of all of them. He did like one of the lunchtime supervisers, who was quite a caring person and who spoke kindly to him, and similarly a teaching assistant from another class, with whom he had a little interaction, took his fancy and he became attached to her.
There was a brief period, in about weeks 3-5 of his school career, when Zudie appeared content to be going to school. During this period he would get dressed in the morning and go down to the waiting school bus with only a perfunctory protest, and on arrival home he was cheerful. Those were optimistic times! My eldest had started at secondary, my youngest was in Year 1, they were all in school, all day (9-3.30), for the first time ever! A serious amount of housework was done, also for the first time ever! Plans were made, driving lessons were begun and OU courses applied for. It was exhilerating, the hours of freedom between 9am and 3.30pm. Unheard of, at least for the 11+ years since the first one was born and the shackles of motherhood were put on. Well there are worse shackles and worse jobs in the world, but for loss of freedom nothing beats motherhood because of the 24/7 aspect of it, especially when the childrearing is 99.9% on one pair of shoulders.
Enough of that! I love being a mum and don't bear any resentment towards the kids, only occasionally at the lack of practical help from dad and grandma.
Things began to fall apart for Zudie even before the first half-term holiday. One day he came home very upset, saying that Phoebe had shouted at him (one of the teaching assistants). He perseverated on this all evening, alternately crying and getting angry about it, saying he hated school, he hated Phoebe, he hated Lyndsay (class teacher), he didn't want to go to school. Next morning it was extremely difficult to get him dressed and out the door. I wrote a note in the home/school diary, asking them to go easy on the tellings-off until he was more settled in. I did get a reply saying that Zayd had deliberately thrown one of the toys on the floor and had been told firmly not to do that. They made it sound so very neutral but having spent time in the classroom I could just see that sour-faced assistant rapping out the words and Zayd being intimidated and losing what little confidence he had. I tried not to think about it too much, but I had been struck by the utter lack of human feeling shown to the children by the teaching assistants, the teacher was gentle enough but the overall impression was of 3 automatons who didn't particularly care for any of the children but had a schedule to implement and boxes to tick and were determined to see it through every day. I'm possibly a little too mushy myself, but I had absolutely fallen in love with the children in the class and was taken aback that the other adults didn't seem to have any genuine love or even liking for them. I don't know if that's because of maternal feelings, if I would have been the same before I had kids......? I know that none of those women did have children, and it's perhaps significant that the people Zudie did bond with, the bus escort and the lunchtime superviser, were mothers.
From then on, Zudie started to cry and protest before going to school, and he also cried when he came home, sometimes for hours. It was sometimes possible to distract him for short periods of time but he would always return to the theme of school and how he didn't want to go, and how he hated Phoebe. He drew pictures of Phoebe, a sad or frightened looking Phoebe with himself in pursuit, eyebrows drawn together and a grim smile on his face. He drew pictures of the school on fire. It was difficult and upsetting for everyone, even at weekends Zudie would cry and perseverate about school, even at half term and over the Christmas holidays. I kept the school informed via the home/school diary, but they rarely replied. There was supposed to be a meeting with the class teacher to discuss progress in October, but that was cancelled. The parents meeting at the end of term was also cancelled. The class teacher repeatedly told me everything was fine at school, but I heard a different story from the lunchtime superviser, I heard that Zudie cried often and told her he wanted to go home.
Of course my main anxiety was that Zudie wasn't settling in, wasn't even reluctantly tolerating school (like his younger brother) never mind enjoying it. But that wasn't the only problem. The quality of education he was receiving, that all of the children were receiving, seemed extremely poor. There was no teaching going on as far as I could ascertain. From my observations during the week spent in the classroom, there were a number of tables in the room of different colours, the children were instructed in their schedule which table to go to and in which order, and each table had different kinds of activities. So, for example, the blue table was for literacy. When the child's schedule showed that a visit to the blue table was required, they went there and sat down and took out their work tray and did the activities which had been put there earlier by the class teacher. Zudie's activities were mostly matching word labels - a labelled picture, say of animals, and velcro-backed cards with the word labels printed again, and he would have to put the cards on top of the label. This was ridiculously simple for Zudie, and his ABA supervisor told the teacher as much on the first day, in a nice way (he said it was fine as a settling-in activity). It suited the teaching staff to have activities that didn't stretch the children, it was called "learning to work independently" and they preferred not to have any interaction with the children while they worked. I did see one little boy struggling with what to do and one of the teaching staff expressing impatience with him "come on you know what to do!" which did cut me to the quick. Poor little Krish, so adorable, friendly and eager! Of course they were always patient and nice to Zudie while I was there, but then they would be, wouldn't they? There were other activities as well like playing in the sand or with toys buried in a jelly-like substance (to encourage the children with sensory difficulties). I had tried to emphasise to the teacher that after six months of ABA, not to mention the 3 years of learning alphabet and phonics before that, Zudie could read a little and was motivated to learn further, and he could write his name and age as well as his brothers'. In fact while I was talking to the teacher about it Zudie obligingly wrote on a piece of paper "Zudie is 6 and (his surname)". His letter formation was unsatisfactory and needed work, I mentioned as an aside (not in front of him!), assuming that this was an activity any school would be bound to undertake with a 6 year old of Zudie's abilities. I had been a bit disheartened to find out that "reading", as illustrated on Zudie's schedule by a stick boy holding a book, simply meant taking a book from the book box and sitting down with it, looking at the pictures and turning the pages - again, each child did this in isolation and without any input from any teaching staff. On one occasion, Zudie was at the yellow table doing a staff-led activity which involved making (ie sticking 3 prepared pieces of card together) masks of characters from a book. I watched how the TA did this activity, with each of the children in rotation as they took their turn at her table. First she held up the book and read the few words on each page. then she introduced her cardboard characters and showed the child how to put it together, using tape I think, and helped them to the extent they needed it. When it was Zudie's turn, she held up the book and turned to the first page, in the pause before she started to read Zudie started to sound out the words - unbelievably, she stopped him! She brushed aside his intervention and read it herself, briskly. Most of the interactions between the teaching staff and the children seemed to follow a similar course - brisk, adult-led and adult-centred. But still, if Zudie could have been happy there I would have been overlooked this shortcoming and filled in the educational gaps at home.
Unfortunately it just got worse after half-term, he sobbed hysterically in the mornings and upset all of us, sometimes his younger brother would start crying and refusing to go to school as well. By the time I put Zudie on the school bus my nerves were in pieces, I would be left shaking and tearful myself. I always tried to talk positively about school with him but it didn't help.
The school was due to move in November 2011 to a new site, which is only a 5 minute walk from our home. Since no-one at the school was able or willing to help us in any way with Zudie's school phobia I came up with a plan which I put to his teacher at Zudie's annual review in February. After explaining that I was really at the end of my tether and didn't know what else to do, I suggested that Zudie might find it easier to settle in if the school day was shorter, so it might be a good idea for him to do half days at school and have afternoon tuition at home. The move in November might be a good opportunity to make the transition back to full days.
I could see at once that Lyndsay wasn't keen. She said that the local authority would never allow it, which took me aback. I said I would ask them anyway. I didn't really share her opinion, I thought I had I could make a good case for it. I left the meeting and wrote the next day to the local authority. After a couple of weeks when I still hadn't had a reply I phoned the placement officer at the SEN department and left a message. Eventually they got back to me. They refused my request on the grounds that the school did not agree to it! In fact they did not even acknowledge Zudie's unhappiness and school refusal as a major problem, and said he was fine when in school. I began to see the teacher in a different light. Sympathetic and caring to my face, but in reality conniving and deceitful and worst of all primarily concerned with her school and not my child's welfare. Dim as I am, I did not at that stage realise that telling the local authority how unhappy Zudie was at school would be inferred as severe criticism of the school by both the school and the LA. The school would have to defend itself at all costs - the cost in this instance being my reputation as a parent and Zudie's chance of ever settling in at school. Thereafter I believe the school painted me as unreasonable and neurotic and the LA was quite willing to accept this, given that the alternative would involve admitting that they were getting things wrong, and putting them right - far too much work! So I had to be put firmly in the wrong.
I must have had some inkling of this even at that stage, since I didn't lay emphasis on the school's shortcomings, but merely made it a particlar problem of Zudie, that he was finding it hard to settle for his own reasons and would benefit from having half days until he felt secure. Unfortunately, frustratingly, any kind of mention of Zudie's "insecurity" or his failure to bond (HIS failure!) with any of the teaching staff in the classroom, the class teacher seemed to take personally. It's very hurtful, even now, to think of the extent to which my child's needs were disregarded, because the school couldn't even cope with the suggestion that there was a better way to do things for my son, and the local authority backed them to the hilt.
There was an extraordinary meeting at the school which was attended by the class teacher, the head teacher, and a local authority representative on one side, and myself and my sister on the other. At that stage I had given up sending Zudie to school. When the class teacher trotted out her lies about Zudie having settled in well and being perfectly happy in school, I said - unwisely but I couldn't help it - that the lunchtime superviser told me he cried a lot and was very unhappy. The head teacher's reaction was stupefying. She jumped out of her chair shouting "who was it? give me her name and I'll sack her!". She claimed she was angry because the lunchtime superviser hadn't told anyone about a child being upset and crying, and she should have. But of course it was as plain as her face that she was angry that the lady in question wasn't toeing the party line and singing from the same hymnsheet.
When the local authority representative summed up the meeting, she ignored all the comments made by myself and my sister and said that Zudie had obviously settled in well at school and she agreed with the school that it was a suitable placement for him, and they would see how the home visit went (I had agreed to a home visit from another local authority person, one who was an autism education specialist) and take it from there. Although I objected to her conclusions I was happy enough that she wasn't saying Zudie had to be returned to school.
Now it's September 2011 and Zudie still isn't back at school, he is being educated at home and making progress in every area, and he's much happier too which is the most important thing. His name is still on the register at the school which I am extremely unhappy about, I did request that they remove it but the local authority has refused, until such time as they can inspect the education he's getting at home and be satisfied that it is meeting his needs. If only they had been taken as much trouble over his school education! I asked them back in July to please hurry up and come and inspect us but I still haven't heard. No doubt the school is getting funding on his behalf in the meantime!
For an eight year old he is behind in his language development, and he is still stark naked at home as he hates wearing clothes; he has other sensory issues too, and he gets easily frustrated mostly for unfathomable reasons, so there is still some traces of autism but overall he's doing brilliantly masha'Allah. He is intelligent for sure, only that he learns differently and needing more effort and repetition than most other children. Sometimes he surprises me with his insight. For example, last Easter he lost a tooth and got excited about the tooth fairy - not something I would tend to encourage but he saw it on Peppa Pig. So he was asking me "if I put this tooth under my pillow will the tooth fairy come and take it, and will she put money?" (oh the language development, the complex sentence structure, absolutely glorious and unhoped for, thanks be to God!). So I was distracted and unenthusiastic besides ("hmm? oh yes, yes, I suppose...."), which he picked up on. Finally he said "if I put this tooth under my pillow will you take it and put money.....?"). So I was absolutely thrilled that he completely understood the process without being told or having it explained to him, wherever that came from I don't know, I never told him about the tooth fairy but neither did I ever tell him that the tooth fairy doesn't exist! But he worked it out for himself.
At the dentist a few weeks ago, he had an anaesthetic injection and we were sent down to the waiting room to wait for it to take effect. He told me it felt funny, and I was trying to explain about anaesthetic, while he touched his cheek curiously with his finger. "is it like a force field?" he asked.......priceless! "Yes, JUST like a forcefield" I said delightedly. My clever boy masha'Allah.
So Zudie started at this school, and he was supposed to have a "gradual and supported integration". I took him to school for the first week and was provided transport there and back (taxi). He also had his ABA tutors with him for some of the time. In the second week we were encouraged to get him used to travelling on the school bus. The bus escort was (is) an absolutely lovely lady, very kind and affectionate and sympathetic. So that did help, and he was able to travel by bus with a minimum of fuss. Unfortunately once he arrived at school the atmosphere was less caring/supportive. The "gradual and supported integration" went by the wayside as the school seemed as keen to get everyone supporting Zudie out of the classroom as quickly as possible. I was very conscious that the class teacher and even more so the classroom assistants found it a strain having us around. I tried not to get involved in the class too much and just be sitting in a corner where Zudie could see me and be reassured. The ABA tutors I think were encouraged to do the same. When the teaching staff suggested I leave the classroom for short periods I agreed, keen to co-operate with the experts. It all sounded reasonable to me, after all we were only there in the very short term (we had been given a 4 week transition plan for Zudie). In the event we were only tolerated for 2 & a half weeks. The school decided that Zudie was doing so well that it was in his best interests to withdraw the extra support in double-quick time. I hadn't gone back after the first week, I wasn't really welcome and I was made to feel my presence was a hindrance to Zudie's progress. Zudie's ABA tutors were dismissed in a similar fashion, so that after two and a half weeks he was expected to manage full-time at school without any familiar faces to reassure him or give him confidence. Unfortunately he hadn't bonded at all with any of the classroom assistants or the teacher, in fact he expressed extreme dislike of all of them. He did like one of the lunchtime supervisers, who was quite a caring person and who spoke kindly to him, and similarly a teaching assistant from another class, with whom he had a little interaction, took his fancy and he became attached to her.
There was a brief period, in about weeks 3-5 of his school career, when Zudie appeared content to be going to school. During this period he would get dressed in the morning and go down to the waiting school bus with only a perfunctory protest, and on arrival home he was cheerful. Those were optimistic times! My eldest had started at secondary, my youngest was in Year 1, they were all in school, all day (9-3.30), for the first time ever! A serious amount of housework was done, also for the first time ever! Plans were made, driving lessons were begun and OU courses applied for. It was exhilerating, the hours of freedom between 9am and 3.30pm. Unheard of, at least for the 11+ years since the first one was born and the shackles of motherhood were put on. Well there are worse shackles and worse jobs in the world, but for loss of freedom nothing beats motherhood because of the 24/7 aspect of it, especially when the childrearing is 99.9% on one pair of shoulders.
Enough of that! I love being a mum and don't bear any resentment towards the kids, only occasionally at the lack of practical help from dad and grandma.
Things began to fall apart for Zudie even before the first half-term holiday. One day he came home very upset, saying that Phoebe had shouted at him (one of the teaching assistants). He perseverated on this all evening, alternately crying and getting angry about it, saying he hated school, he hated Phoebe, he hated Lyndsay (class teacher), he didn't want to go to school. Next morning it was extremely difficult to get him dressed and out the door. I wrote a note in the home/school diary, asking them to go easy on the tellings-off until he was more settled in. I did get a reply saying that Zayd had deliberately thrown one of the toys on the floor and had been told firmly not to do that. They made it sound so very neutral but having spent time in the classroom I could just see that sour-faced assistant rapping out the words and Zayd being intimidated and losing what little confidence he had. I tried not to think about it too much, but I had been struck by the utter lack of human feeling shown to the children by the teaching assistants, the teacher was gentle enough but the overall impression was of 3 automatons who didn't particularly care for any of the children but had a schedule to implement and boxes to tick and were determined to see it through every day. I'm possibly a little too mushy myself, but I had absolutely fallen in love with the children in the class and was taken aback that the other adults didn't seem to have any genuine love or even liking for them. I don't know if that's because of maternal feelings, if I would have been the same before I had kids......? I know that none of those women did have children, and it's perhaps significant that the people Zudie did bond with, the bus escort and the lunchtime superviser, were mothers.
From then on, Zudie started to cry and protest before going to school, and he also cried when he came home, sometimes for hours. It was sometimes possible to distract him for short periods of time but he would always return to the theme of school and how he didn't want to go, and how he hated Phoebe. He drew pictures of Phoebe, a sad or frightened looking Phoebe with himself in pursuit, eyebrows drawn together and a grim smile on his face. He drew pictures of the school on fire. It was difficult and upsetting for everyone, even at weekends Zudie would cry and perseverate about school, even at half term and over the Christmas holidays. I kept the school informed via the home/school diary, but they rarely replied. There was supposed to be a meeting with the class teacher to discuss progress in October, but that was cancelled. The parents meeting at the end of term was also cancelled. The class teacher repeatedly told me everything was fine at school, but I heard a different story from the lunchtime superviser, I heard that Zudie cried often and told her he wanted to go home.
Of course my main anxiety was that Zudie wasn't settling in, wasn't even reluctantly tolerating school (like his younger brother) never mind enjoying it. But that wasn't the only problem. The quality of education he was receiving, that all of the children were receiving, seemed extremely poor. There was no teaching going on as far as I could ascertain. From my observations during the week spent in the classroom, there were a number of tables in the room of different colours, the children were instructed in their schedule which table to go to and in which order, and each table had different kinds of activities. So, for example, the blue table was for literacy. When the child's schedule showed that a visit to the blue table was required, they went there and sat down and took out their work tray and did the activities which had been put there earlier by the class teacher. Zudie's activities were mostly matching word labels - a labelled picture, say of animals, and velcro-backed cards with the word labels printed again, and he would have to put the cards on top of the label. This was ridiculously simple for Zudie, and his ABA supervisor told the teacher as much on the first day, in a nice way (he said it was fine as a settling-in activity). It suited the teaching staff to have activities that didn't stretch the children, it was called "learning to work independently" and they preferred not to have any interaction with the children while they worked. I did see one little boy struggling with what to do and one of the teaching staff expressing impatience with him "come on you know what to do!" which did cut me to the quick. Poor little Krish, so adorable, friendly and eager! Of course they were always patient and nice to Zudie while I was there, but then they would be, wouldn't they? There were other activities as well like playing in the sand or with toys buried in a jelly-like substance (to encourage the children with sensory difficulties). I had tried to emphasise to the teacher that after six months of ABA, not to mention the 3 years of learning alphabet and phonics before that, Zudie could read a little and was motivated to learn further, and he could write his name and age as well as his brothers'. In fact while I was talking to the teacher about it Zudie obligingly wrote on a piece of paper "Zudie is 6 and (his surname)". His letter formation was unsatisfactory and needed work, I mentioned as an aside (not in front of him!), assuming that this was an activity any school would be bound to undertake with a 6 year old of Zudie's abilities. I had been a bit disheartened to find out that "reading", as illustrated on Zudie's schedule by a stick boy holding a book, simply meant taking a book from the book box and sitting down with it, looking at the pictures and turning the pages - again, each child did this in isolation and without any input from any teaching staff. On one occasion, Zudie was at the yellow table doing a staff-led activity which involved making (ie sticking 3 prepared pieces of card together) masks of characters from a book. I watched how the TA did this activity, with each of the children in rotation as they took their turn at her table. First she held up the book and read the few words on each page. then she introduced her cardboard characters and showed the child how to put it together, using tape I think, and helped them to the extent they needed it. When it was Zudie's turn, she held up the book and turned to the first page, in the pause before she started to read Zudie started to sound out the words - unbelievably, she stopped him! She brushed aside his intervention and read it herself, briskly. Most of the interactions between the teaching staff and the children seemed to follow a similar course - brisk, adult-led and adult-centred. But still, if Zudie could have been happy there I would have been overlooked this shortcoming and filled in the educational gaps at home.
Unfortunately it just got worse after half-term, he sobbed hysterically in the mornings and upset all of us, sometimes his younger brother would start crying and refusing to go to school as well. By the time I put Zudie on the school bus my nerves were in pieces, I would be left shaking and tearful myself. I always tried to talk positively about school with him but it didn't help.
The school was due to move in November 2011 to a new site, which is only a 5 minute walk from our home. Since no-one at the school was able or willing to help us in any way with Zudie's school phobia I came up with a plan which I put to his teacher at Zudie's annual review in February. After explaining that I was really at the end of my tether and didn't know what else to do, I suggested that Zudie might find it easier to settle in if the school day was shorter, so it might be a good idea for him to do half days at school and have afternoon tuition at home. The move in November might be a good opportunity to make the transition back to full days.
I could see at once that Lyndsay wasn't keen. She said that the local authority would never allow it, which took me aback. I said I would ask them anyway. I didn't really share her opinion, I thought I had I could make a good case for it. I left the meeting and wrote the next day to the local authority. After a couple of weeks when I still hadn't had a reply I phoned the placement officer at the SEN department and left a message. Eventually they got back to me. They refused my request on the grounds that the school did not agree to it! In fact they did not even acknowledge Zudie's unhappiness and school refusal as a major problem, and said he was fine when in school. I began to see the teacher in a different light. Sympathetic and caring to my face, but in reality conniving and deceitful and worst of all primarily concerned with her school and not my child's welfare. Dim as I am, I did not at that stage realise that telling the local authority how unhappy Zudie was at school would be inferred as severe criticism of the school by both the school and the LA. The school would have to defend itself at all costs - the cost in this instance being my reputation as a parent and Zudie's chance of ever settling in at school. Thereafter I believe the school painted me as unreasonable and neurotic and the LA was quite willing to accept this, given that the alternative would involve admitting that they were getting things wrong, and putting them right - far too much work! So I had to be put firmly in the wrong.
I must have had some inkling of this even at that stage, since I didn't lay emphasis on the school's shortcomings, but merely made it a particlar problem of Zudie, that he was finding it hard to settle for his own reasons and would benefit from having half days until he felt secure. Unfortunately, frustratingly, any kind of mention of Zudie's "insecurity" or his failure to bond (HIS failure!) with any of the teaching staff in the classroom, the class teacher seemed to take personally. It's very hurtful, even now, to think of the extent to which my child's needs were disregarded, because the school couldn't even cope with the suggestion that there was a better way to do things for my son, and the local authority backed them to the hilt.
There was an extraordinary meeting at the school which was attended by the class teacher, the head teacher, and a local authority representative on one side, and myself and my sister on the other. At that stage I had given up sending Zudie to school. When the class teacher trotted out her lies about Zudie having settled in well and being perfectly happy in school, I said - unwisely but I couldn't help it - that the lunchtime superviser told me he cried a lot and was very unhappy. The head teacher's reaction was stupefying. She jumped out of her chair shouting "who was it? give me her name and I'll sack her!". She claimed she was angry because the lunchtime superviser hadn't told anyone about a child being upset and crying, and she should have. But of course it was as plain as her face that she was angry that the lady in question wasn't toeing the party line and singing from the same hymnsheet.
When the local authority representative summed up the meeting, she ignored all the comments made by myself and my sister and said that Zudie had obviously settled in well at school and she agreed with the school that it was a suitable placement for him, and they would see how the home visit went (I had agreed to a home visit from another local authority person, one who was an autism education specialist) and take it from there. Although I objected to her conclusions I was happy enough that she wasn't saying Zudie had to be returned to school.
Now it's September 2011 and Zudie still isn't back at school, he is being educated at home and making progress in every area, and he's much happier too which is the most important thing. His name is still on the register at the school which I am extremely unhappy about, I did request that they remove it but the local authority has refused, until such time as they can inspect the education he's getting at home and be satisfied that it is meeting his needs. If only they had been taken as much trouble over his school education! I asked them back in July to please hurry up and come and inspect us but I still haven't heard. No doubt the school is getting funding on his behalf in the meantime!
For an eight year old he is behind in his language development, and he is still stark naked at home as he hates wearing clothes; he has other sensory issues too, and he gets easily frustrated mostly for unfathomable reasons, so there is still some traces of autism but overall he's doing brilliantly masha'Allah. He is intelligent for sure, only that he learns differently and needing more effort and repetition than most other children. Sometimes he surprises me with his insight. For example, last Easter he lost a tooth and got excited about the tooth fairy - not something I would tend to encourage but he saw it on Peppa Pig. So he was asking me "if I put this tooth under my pillow will the tooth fairy come and take it, and will she put money?" (oh the language development, the complex sentence structure, absolutely glorious and unhoped for, thanks be to God!). So I was distracted and unenthusiastic besides ("hmm? oh yes, yes, I suppose...."), which he picked up on. Finally he said "if I put this tooth under my pillow will you take it and put money.....?"). So I was absolutely thrilled that he completely understood the process without being told or having it explained to him, wherever that came from I don't know, I never told him about the tooth fairy but neither did I ever tell him that the tooth fairy doesn't exist! But he worked it out for himself.
At the dentist a few weeks ago, he had an anaesthetic injection and we were sent down to the waiting room to wait for it to take effect. He told me it felt funny, and I was trying to explain about anaesthetic, while he touched his cheek curiously with his finger. "is it like a force field?" he asked.......priceless! "Yes, JUST like a forcefield" I said delightedly. My clever boy masha'Allah.
Friday, July 02, 2010
Making a Decision about Zoudie's Schooling - 07/10
My placement officer at the local authority has written to me saying that since Zoudie is doing so well with the ABA home program, I may want to consider a placement at a mainstream school with the support of an ABA tutor. It would involve a very gradual integration, with Zoudie attending for perhaps one hour a day or a couple of afternoons a week to start with, and progress at a pace to suit him.
It sounds on the face of it to be a reasonable proposition. I am constantly hearing that children with special education needs are better off in a mainstream setting with "appropriate support" (the definition of appropriate seems a bit vague to me). I do have reservations though. He has a placement starting in September at a reasonably good specialist school for children with moderate learning difficulties. I've met his teacher and we know that he will be in a class of just five children which sounds good.
Classes at the local mainstream school have 28-30 kids and one teacher plus a general teaching assistant. Another consideration is that because of his month of birth (July) Zoudie would be among the oldest of his classmates. From enquiries I've made before to the education authorities, I know that they prefer to keep children within age-appropriate year groups and make no exceptions for children who may be behind their peers academically. And Zoudie is behind his peers, despite the progress he is making with the ABA. He is behind with his cognitive abilities and understanding of language by up to 2 years. I'm not sure how it would affect his confidence to be in a classroom with peers who are 2 years ahead academically while being the same age or younger. I would prefer him to be with the year group lower to him (which would mean him starting year 2 in September, still very daunting given he is slightly behind his younger brother who is due to start Year 1 in September. Of course there would be one-to-one support for Zayd, and this would initially be an ABA tutor who is closely supervised by an ABA expert, maybe for a couple of terms or even a year if we were lucky. But I feel sure that eventually we'd have to shift for ourselves with the usual kind of one to one support offered to SEN children - minimum wage employees of variable quality, and little or no qualifications or experience in ordinary education ever mind SEN. Now I do know children who have fantastic classroom assistants, despite the poor wages and lack of training, but it's just too much of a lottery for me.
I responded to the local authority that I would be willing to consider a trial period at a mainstream school, one term or more, provided we don't lose the place at the special school. Apparently my placement officer has to have a meeting with her boss to discuss it and they will let us know. I guess they prefer to place children in mainstream school where possible as there are so few special school places, but I'm not prepared to take a gamble on Zoudie's education. I'd have a bit more confidence in mainstream if they would train the teaching assistants properly and pay them a decent wage.
It sounds on the face of it to be a reasonable proposition. I am constantly hearing that children with special education needs are better off in a mainstream setting with "appropriate support" (the definition of appropriate seems a bit vague to me). I do have reservations though. He has a placement starting in September at a reasonably good specialist school for children with moderate learning difficulties. I've met his teacher and we know that he will be in a class of just five children which sounds good.
Classes at the local mainstream school have 28-30 kids and one teacher plus a general teaching assistant. Another consideration is that because of his month of birth (July) Zoudie would be among the oldest of his classmates. From enquiries I've made before to the education authorities, I know that they prefer to keep children within age-appropriate year groups and make no exceptions for children who may be behind their peers academically. And Zoudie is behind his peers, despite the progress he is making with the ABA. He is behind with his cognitive abilities and understanding of language by up to 2 years. I'm not sure how it would affect his confidence to be in a classroom with peers who are 2 years ahead academically while being the same age or younger. I would prefer him to be with the year group lower to him (which would mean him starting year 2 in September, still very daunting given he is slightly behind his younger brother who is due to start Year 1 in September. Of course there would be one-to-one support for Zayd, and this would initially be an ABA tutor who is closely supervised by an ABA expert, maybe for a couple of terms or even a year if we were lucky. But I feel sure that eventually we'd have to shift for ourselves with the usual kind of one to one support offered to SEN children - minimum wage employees of variable quality, and little or no qualifications or experience in ordinary education ever mind SEN. Now I do know children who have fantastic classroom assistants, despite the poor wages and lack of training, but it's just too much of a lottery for me.
I responded to the local authority that I would be willing to consider a trial period at a mainstream school, one term or more, provided we don't lose the place at the special school. Apparently my placement officer has to have a meeting with her boss to discuss it and they will let us know. I guess they prefer to place children in mainstream school where possible as there are so few special school places, but I'm not prepared to take a gamble on Zoudie's education. I'd have a bit more confidence in mainstream if they would train the teaching assistants properly and pay them a decent wage.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Happy Birthday Boudie
Christmas excitement is mounting in our house, which is odd as we don't celebrate it in any way at all, and in fact I never bring the subject up myself. The recent snowfall brought a joyful shout of "look, christmas" when they got up and looked out the window yesterday morning. When we see the xmas decorations in shops or snow-sprayed windows they say "look, christmas!"
They get their understanding of christmas mostly from the tv, so of course they know that christmas is all about decorated trees and snow and presents and a fat man in a red suit. TV viewing is strictly limited at the moment thanks be to God, what with the shocking amount and intensity of toy adverts that leave you reeling and the kids delirious with avarice. I would love to credit this with responsible parenting but the truth is they don't get the chance to watch tv as the big tv with the aerial is in the bedroom where their dad sleeps in the daytime. The small tv is in the sitting room with no aerial so they can only watch maternally-approved DVDs on it. I suppose I can take credit for the fact that I have so far resisted buying another tv aerial.
I was almost tempted to buy a christmas tree this year, Zudie asked me very earnestly if we could have one. They do love to see the bright lights and the shiny baubles and tinsel. Where's the harm in a little tree, perhaps 2 feet high, shiny and twinkling in the corner? Of course we couldn't just have a christmas tree without having lots of other christmassy type things. What's a tree without presents under it? wouldn't chains hanging from the ceiling be nice and cheerful, maybe a wreath on the door as well? The next thing you know we'd have dancing santas outside the front door and a simpsons themed nativity scene on the coffee table. We went to a friend's house and saw their tree, sumptously huge and green and beautifully decorated and the first thing Zudie said was "where's the presents?" so maybe that's why he wanted the tree. Zeno vetoed the tree idea anyway, not that I would have caved in if he hadn't but still.
We do have some tinsel in the house at the moment - not on a tree but festooning the walls, as it's Boudy's birthday and we have decorated the place with banners and balloons and tinsel. I got him a "5" balloon and I also had to get a "6" one for Zudie as he doesn't understand about birthdays yet and feels left out. It's been a bit fraught as he (Zudie) doesn't cope very well with excitement, and when he gets a wrapped present he decides what he would like it to be and then becomes very upset if it's not that. It's impossible to predict what he wants because if you ask him the day before it will be something different from what he decides he wants on the actual day of present giving. So Zudie is sharing this birthday with Boudy, and happily Boudy doesn't mind TOO much, I'm trying to make an extra fuss of him whenever I get a chance (whenever zouzou's not watching). Boudie chose the cake (chocolate hedgehog) and he'll blow out five candles but then we'll have to put six candles for Zudie to blow out as well. He's choosing the lunch menu as well - surprise surpise, chicken fillet burger and chips.
Once they opened the presents (and Zeno got one too, a Meerkat mug), and Zudie was over the meltdown that inevitably followed, the 2 of them actually had great fun with the wrapping paper and sellotape, wrapping up various toys and carrying them around for a bit, saying "happy birthday!" and ripping them open with joyous cries upon seeing their old familiar toys. Priceless. Next time I won't bother buying anything just wrap up the entire contents of their toy cupboard.
Well, I say Zudie's 'over' the meltdown but he's still shouting at me intermittently "no dvds presents".
They get their understanding of christmas mostly from the tv, so of course they know that christmas is all about decorated trees and snow and presents and a fat man in a red suit. TV viewing is strictly limited at the moment thanks be to God, what with the shocking amount and intensity of toy adverts that leave you reeling and the kids delirious with avarice. I would love to credit this with responsible parenting but the truth is they don't get the chance to watch tv as the big tv with the aerial is in the bedroom where their dad sleeps in the daytime. The small tv is in the sitting room with no aerial so they can only watch maternally-approved DVDs on it. I suppose I can take credit for the fact that I have so far resisted buying another tv aerial.
I was almost tempted to buy a christmas tree this year, Zudie asked me very earnestly if we could have one. They do love to see the bright lights and the shiny baubles and tinsel. Where's the harm in a little tree, perhaps 2 feet high, shiny and twinkling in the corner? Of course we couldn't just have a christmas tree without having lots of other christmassy type things. What's a tree without presents under it? wouldn't chains hanging from the ceiling be nice and cheerful, maybe a wreath on the door as well? The next thing you know we'd have dancing santas outside the front door and a simpsons themed nativity scene on the coffee table. We went to a friend's house and saw their tree, sumptously huge and green and beautifully decorated and the first thing Zudie said was "where's the presents?" so maybe that's why he wanted the tree. Zeno vetoed the tree idea anyway, not that I would have caved in if he hadn't but still.
We do have some tinsel in the house at the moment - not on a tree but festooning the walls, as it's Boudy's birthday and we have decorated the place with banners and balloons and tinsel. I got him a "5" balloon and I also had to get a "6" one for Zudie as he doesn't understand about birthdays yet and feels left out. It's been a bit fraught as he (Zudie) doesn't cope very well with excitement, and when he gets a wrapped present he decides what he would like it to be and then becomes very upset if it's not that. It's impossible to predict what he wants because if you ask him the day before it will be something different from what he decides he wants on the actual day of present giving. So Zudie is sharing this birthday with Boudy, and happily Boudy doesn't mind TOO much, I'm trying to make an extra fuss of him whenever I get a chance (whenever zouzou's not watching). Boudie chose the cake (chocolate hedgehog) and he'll blow out five candles but then we'll have to put six candles for Zudie to blow out as well. He's choosing the lunch menu as well - surprise surpise, chicken fillet burger and chips.
Once they opened the presents (and Zeno got one too, a Meerkat mug), and Zudie was over the meltdown that inevitably followed, the 2 of them actually had great fun with the wrapping paper and sellotape, wrapping up various toys and carrying them around for a bit, saying "happy birthday!" and ripping them open with joyous cries upon seeing their old familiar toys. Priceless. Next time I won't bother buying anything just wrap up the entire contents of their toy cupboard.
Well, I say Zudie's 'over' the meltdown but he's still shouting at me intermittently "no dvds presents".
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
CBBC TOUR!
Had a lovely time at Television Centre for the CBBC tour with Gail and her boys. The older one is at school with Zeno. Being the nerd that I am, it was a real thrill to be at Television Centre. We were greeted in the reception area by two guides who were really nice, but unfortunately when they told us about the imminent security checks they said "don't worry it's just like at the airport" which sent Zeno into a tailspin. We had a dreadful experience at Heathrow Airport in the summer and my two autie boys both had meltdowns (and I nearly had a nervous breakdown).
However the security at the BBC wasn't such an ordeal, just had to put all our bags and pocket contents into a basket and go through a metal detector. First stop was the Prank Patrol van and then the Tardis for photo ops. The Blue Peter garden was disappointing. Then to a studio where volunteers were requested for reading the (Newsround) news and doing some technical behind the scenes stuff. The other kids were very reticent and shy but of course Zeno jumped up and volunteered to read the news, which he did beautifully, carefully following instructions about reading from the autocue and not the paper in front of him, and to carry on with the voiceover while they showed some VT footage. I was so proud and immediately had visions of him reading the 10 o'clock news on the BBC. Harry was less keen to volunteer for anything but Gail persuaded him to do the weather later, pointing at a blank board behind him while the tv camera overlaid it with a weather board. Both boys really enjoyed it I think.
However the security at the BBC wasn't such an ordeal, just had to put all our bags and pocket contents into a basket and go through a metal detector. First stop was the Prank Patrol van and then the Tardis for photo ops. The Blue Peter garden was disappointing. Then to a studio where volunteers were requested for reading the (Newsround) news and doing some technical behind the scenes stuff. The other kids were very reticent and shy but of course Zeno jumped up and volunteered to read the news, which he did beautifully, carefully following instructions about reading from the autocue and not the paper in front of him, and to carry on with the voiceover while they showed some VT footage. I was so proud and immediately had visions of him reading the 10 o'clock news on the BBC. Harry was less keen to volunteer for anything but Gail persuaded him to do the weather later, pointing at a blank board behind him while the tv camera overlaid it with a weather board. Both boys really enjoyed it I think.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Sunday Blues
I am a bit grumpy today. I am by nature a woman of few words. One of the hardest things about becoming a mother was the amount of talking I suddenly had to do - it's impossible to be quiet when you have the constant clamouring of kids wanting attention and asking you stuff. It was quite a shock to me that whereas previously I could get away with saying very little, once I had a child I always had to be chattering away answering questions and having conversations. It wears me out more than any other activity and leaves me drained and nervy.
Today it was the children's father making me talk, to absolutely no purpose. Having mentioned that there were no eggs at breakfast I provided other foodstuffs, and once they were all replete (motherhood has also made me a skilled or at least speedy short-order cook) Himself wandered into the kitchen where I was washing the dishes and opened the fridge, like he does about a million times a day hungry or not. "There's an egg here. One egg. In the fridge", he says. Well what do you say to that? While I was turning the possibilities over in my head ("really? an egg?". "oh is there?" "that's nice") it just suddenly struck me how sometimes conversations are really nothing more than the rattling of a coin in an otherwise empty tin. Pointless. We might as well have been a couple of monkeys chattering and gibbering at each other. It made me feel very cross. I waited but nothing more challenging was said, no further revelations or even a direct request that I could provide an answer for, which would have made it at least a legitimate exchange instead of just useless, pointless words. The next word from him was a rather huffy "well?" which burst from me a narky "well what? what do you want me to say?". And that's how marital arguments start. Mostly I manage to stifle the occasional irritation but this time I just felt so resentful of being made to speak empty words with no purpose. I want to be quiet again.
Maybe I was a bit irritable because of a previous conversation, again typical of our verbal exchanges. Putting the phone down on his family in Iraq, he tried to explain to me the intricacies of the interrelatedness of his brother and his brother's wife - his mother is related to the wife's father-in-law, first he said they were cousins, then he said:
"he is her brother's son"
"so he is her nephew"
"who?"
(silent scream - "THE HE IN YOUR PREVIOUS COMMENT OF COURSE!")
aloud: "the father in law. If he's her brother's son that makes him her nephew" (SO MANY WORDS!)
"yes. no. Her uncle's son is my brother's father-in-law"
"so who is the brother's son?"
"who? Not her brother's son. Her uncle's son. my mother is Kusay's father-in-law's cousin"
"ah, yes, I see" (*sob*).
That's quite complicated and easily confused of course. Very often though we can be talking about one person, just the one, and in response to a statement of mine "he's very nice though" himself will suddenly say "who?". It drives me bonkers to be honest. THE PERSON WE'VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT FOR TEN MINUTES. And while we're on the subject, can I mention that his habit of making me repeat everything I say at least twice is really annoying. It's not that he doesn't hear me, because if I keep my lips firmly shut and refuse to repeat my comment, he does respond eventually. I don't know if he's having trouble processing language, like our son, or if saying "huh?" is just an ingrained habit but I really, really - REALLY - wish he'd stop.
Sometimes I really don't think I was cut out for marriage. Polygamy seems like a good option. Make that polygyny (2 husbands???!!! shudder!!!).
Today it was the children's father making me talk, to absolutely no purpose. Having mentioned that there were no eggs at breakfast I provided other foodstuffs, and once they were all replete (motherhood has also made me a skilled or at least speedy short-order cook) Himself wandered into the kitchen where I was washing the dishes and opened the fridge, like he does about a million times a day hungry or not. "There's an egg here. One egg. In the fridge", he says. Well what do you say to that? While I was turning the possibilities over in my head ("really? an egg?". "oh is there?" "that's nice") it just suddenly struck me how sometimes conversations are really nothing more than the rattling of a coin in an otherwise empty tin. Pointless. We might as well have been a couple of monkeys chattering and gibbering at each other. It made me feel very cross. I waited but nothing more challenging was said, no further revelations or even a direct request that I could provide an answer for, which would have made it at least a legitimate exchange instead of just useless, pointless words. The next word from him was a rather huffy "well?" which burst from me a narky "well what? what do you want me to say?". And that's how marital arguments start. Mostly I manage to stifle the occasional irritation but this time I just felt so resentful of being made to speak empty words with no purpose. I want to be quiet again.
Maybe I was a bit irritable because of a previous conversation, again typical of our verbal exchanges. Putting the phone down on his family in Iraq, he tried to explain to me the intricacies of the interrelatedness of his brother and his brother's wife - his mother is related to the wife's father-in-law, first he said they were cousins, then he said:
"he is her brother's son"
"so he is her nephew"
"who?"
(silent scream - "THE HE IN YOUR PREVIOUS COMMENT OF COURSE!")
aloud: "the father in law. If he's her brother's son that makes him her nephew" (SO MANY WORDS!)
"yes. no. Her uncle's son is my brother's father-in-law"
"so who is the brother's son?"
"who? Not her brother's son. Her uncle's son. my mother is Kusay's father-in-law's cousin"
"ah, yes, I see" (*sob*).
That's quite complicated and easily confused of course. Very often though we can be talking about one person, just the one, and in response to a statement of mine "he's very nice though" himself will suddenly say "who?". It drives me bonkers to be honest. THE PERSON WE'VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT FOR TEN MINUTES. And while we're on the subject, can I mention that his habit of making me repeat everything I say at least twice is really annoying. It's not that he doesn't hear me, because if I keep my lips firmly shut and refuse to repeat my comment, he does respond eventually. I don't know if he's having trouble processing language, like our son, or if saying "huh?" is just an ingrained habit but I really, really - REALLY - wish he'd stop.
Sometimes I really don't think I was cut out for marriage. Polygamy seems like a good option. Make that polygyny (2 husbands???!!! shudder!!!).
Thursday, October 30, 2008
October Half-Term in Weymouth
Yesterday we packed up our buckets and spades and a football and headed for the beach. Since it was the only sunny day forecast for the coming week I thought we should make the most of it. Despite the cold the beach was fairly crowded, because of the half-term holiday I suppose. Still it was nice to see everyone wrapped up against the cold instead of half naked hehe. Town was really packed as well. So anyway the kids had a great time alhamdulillah, made sandcastles and dug holes and generally ran around (so did I run around, to keep the cold at bay). Zudie wouldn't let me have a race with Zeno, started screaming at the mention of it, and also started crying and screaming 'No!' when I tried to play football. Although a lot of his autistic behavours have lessened some of them are still hanging around. I chased him for a bit although he was protesting and acting upset he ran away from me and eventually started laughing. Got him to chase me as well which he did enjoy. As usual Zeno lost interest in his own family and tried to join in with the other groups of people dotted around. Sometimes this is okay sometimes it is a disaster. He started chasing after a toddler and made as if to stop him going near his sandcastles and the parents got a bit jumpy - Zeno doesn't differentiate between a toddler or a teenager in these instances and can come across a bit aggressive. Although when he started chasing a couple of little kids and the girl turned around and slapped him he was very restrained and just laughed and didn't respond.
I'm noticing more and more the unpleasant looks I get whenever we go out in Weymouth. I've started avoiding looking at people because of the hostility I sometimes get. It happened in town yesterday and also when we went for a drive to Corfe Castle the other day. The stares definitely cross the line beyond curiosity into aggression. It's not as if I was dressed all that differently from everyone else there (I do love my jilbab and elbow-length hijab, but I only wear that in London) apart from the hijab tucked into my neckline - just normal clothes from a chainstore, long and warm as suited to the weather. It's worse when it's kids. Once in town these little boys were staring (about 6 or 7 yrs old they were) until one of them blurted out "look Dad it's one of them Muslims!". Of course I gave him a big smile but my heart sank. They must have heard a lot of sensational conversations about Muslims to come out with something like that. Same with the boys (teenagers) who passed by the house when I was sweeping the yard and shouted something about immigrants and getting out of the country. It's unpleasant and dispiriting. Shouting abuse from a speeding car is also a very popular pasttime down here at the mouth of the Wey, that has happened on a number of occasions.
Of course there are all these occasions of racism (which it boils down to even though I could 'pass' for English by my looks and voice), but there are also some very nice people, friendly and helpful. I know that sometimes they are being particularly nice precisely because of the hijab, and whenever I've had the chance to talk for a few minutes with such people they usually express dismay and shame about the muslim-bashing in the media and just among the general population. And thank God for those people who continually restore my faith in human nature.
I'm noticing more and more the unpleasant looks I get whenever we go out in Weymouth. I've started avoiding looking at people because of the hostility I sometimes get. It happened in town yesterday and also when we went for a drive to Corfe Castle the other day. The stares definitely cross the line beyond curiosity into aggression. It's not as if I was dressed all that differently from everyone else there (I do love my jilbab and elbow-length hijab, but I only wear that in London) apart from the hijab tucked into my neckline - just normal clothes from a chainstore, long and warm as suited to the weather. It's worse when it's kids. Once in town these little boys were staring (about 6 or 7 yrs old they were) until one of them blurted out "look Dad it's one of them Muslims!". Of course I gave him a big smile but my heart sank. They must have heard a lot of sensational conversations about Muslims to come out with something like that. Same with the boys (teenagers) who passed by the house when I was sweeping the yard and shouted something about immigrants and getting out of the country. It's unpleasant and dispiriting. Shouting abuse from a speeding car is also a very popular pasttime down here at the mouth of the Wey, that has happened on a number of occasions.
Of course there are all these occasions of racism (which it boils down to even though I could 'pass' for English by my looks and voice), but there are also some very nice people, friendly and helpful. I know that sometimes they are being particularly nice precisely because of the hijab, and whenever I've had the chance to talk for a few minutes with such people they usually express dismay and shame about the muslim-bashing in the media and just among the general population. And thank God for those people who continually restore my faith in human nature.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Hand wringing over Handshakes
So, a Somali Muslim man who was due to receive a reward for fund raising for Amnesty International was snubbed and the award given to someone else because he did not want to shake hands with the female doing the presenting. One look at the comments at the bottom of the article shows what a field day bigots have with this kind of thing.
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/ireland/article4188508.ece
Non-muslims always attribute the Muslim attitude of modesty and restricted interaction between the sexes to some kind of superiority complex of the Muslim male. The truth is, it is simply a question of modesty and it applies equally to both sexes - BUT if a Muslim woman didn't want to shake hands with a man, would she be accused of sexism and demeaning behaviour towards men? I'm not sure that she would. More likely she would be accused of an inferiority complex (by non-Muslims I mean).
In Islam, the reasons for not touching, or shaking hands, with the opposite sex are the same for both men and women. It is to avoid any action which may lead to that spark of attraction between two people. If a Muslim man doesn't shake hands with women, it is not because he thinks she is dirty or contaminated, it is actually the complete opposite - he loves women and thinks they are beautiful, they make his heart skip a beat and touching (yes even a handshake) might cause a yearning that he does not want to fulfill, as he wants to obey God and avoid a feeling of attraction to a woman he is not married to. And before you ask, since we can't only refuse to shake hands with people who attract us, it is better to make it a general rule and stick to it for everyone, even those we might find mightily unattractive.
Is there anyone who disputes that men and women have a powerful attraction for each other? Is it admirable or contemptible for a person, man or woman, to want to avoid that feeling of attraction because they prefer to be as 'chaste' as they possibly can? A Muslim should direct all their sexuality towards their spouse - admiring looks, longing gazes, flirtatious words, affectionate squeezes - none of these should go outside the marital relationship. How do 'crushes' develop? From a look, a touch, a joke shared.....married people are not immune, being in love with someone else doesn't always make one immune either. I don't want to leave myself open to that kind of possibility, and many other people feel the same, men and women, Muslim or not. Is that unacceptable in this society? Are we not welcome because we don't want to join in the fun?
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/ireland/article4188508.ece
Non-muslims always attribute the Muslim attitude of modesty and restricted interaction between the sexes to some kind of superiority complex of the Muslim male. The truth is, it is simply a question of modesty and it applies equally to both sexes - BUT if a Muslim woman didn't want to shake hands with a man, would she be accused of sexism and demeaning behaviour towards men? I'm not sure that she would. More likely she would be accused of an inferiority complex (by non-Muslims I mean).
In Islam, the reasons for not touching, or shaking hands, with the opposite sex are the same for both men and women. It is to avoid any action which may lead to that spark of attraction between two people. If a Muslim man doesn't shake hands with women, it is not because he thinks she is dirty or contaminated, it is actually the complete opposite - he loves women and thinks they are beautiful, they make his heart skip a beat and touching (yes even a handshake) might cause a yearning that he does not want to fulfill, as he wants to obey God and avoid a feeling of attraction to a woman he is not married to. And before you ask, since we can't only refuse to shake hands with people who attract us, it is better to make it a general rule and stick to it for everyone, even those we might find mightily unattractive.
Is there anyone who disputes that men and women have a powerful attraction for each other? Is it admirable or contemptible for a person, man or woman, to want to avoid that feeling of attraction because they prefer to be as 'chaste' as they possibly can? A Muslim should direct all their sexuality towards their spouse - admiring looks, longing gazes, flirtatious words, affectionate squeezes - none of these should go outside the marital relationship. How do 'crushes' develop? From a look, a touch, a joke shared.....married people are not immune, being in love with someone else doesn't always make one immune either. I don't want to leave myself open to that kind of possibility, and many other people feel the same, men and women, Muslim or not. Is that unacceptable in this society? Are we not welcome because we don't want to join in the fun?
Saturday, May 24, 2008
More About Zudie - Preschool and Speech Therapy
It's a lovely evening, warm and quite windy so that the trees outside are rustling very relaxingly. The kids are asleep and Abuzein just went to work the night shift. I should go to bed really as I am pretty knackered but I don't feel sleepy.
Zudie is improving a lot these days, in his speech and language as well as general behaviour. Speech therapy has really helped a lot I think. We've been to 5 sessions already and he has started to interact a bit with the therapist and give her a bit of eye contact as well as taking part a little bit in the 'turn-taking' games although not really the 'saying hello to the toys' game at the beginning. The advice she gives for activities to do with him at home are really useful and we've been putting in some intensive work with Zudie which is really showing benefits, alhamdulillah. His speech is a lot clearer and his use of language is more correct and in context now, although still not like that of other 4-5 year olds. He knows most of the colours now although still confuses them sometimes. He will sometimes use pronouns correctly now, and quite often says "I" instead of "he". I think he mostly says "I don't want it" instead of "he doesn't want it" which he used to say when referring to himself, for example. He will also sometimes say "you" appropriately. There's still a way to go though.
I've been trying to write down examples of his language use, because my mind usually goes blank whenever I'm asked about it at our appointments with the professionals. As I am still trying to teach him the colours (we've been working on it for at least 2 years), he can now answer my question "what colour is this?" or "what colour is Thomas?". Whether he gets the answer right is immaterial to me, just understanding the question and saying the name of a colour is progress, as he would often reply just "colour". Now he is trying to copy me by asking the question "what colour is......?(this, or Mr Happy, or whatever). But what he actually says is "what's this is green?". Some variations are: "whose James is red?" "where's Herbies is orange?" - and today, "whose green is yellow?" So his problem with processing language is fairly obvious.
One of the 'speech and language' experts came to the preschool to observe him. She had a few tries at talking to him but he either ignored her or turned away saying "no, no". But she did discreetly observe me talking to him and him answering so she was able to write something in her notes. She also saw how he freaked out a bit when a spot of paint got on his hand. When I spoke to her later it emerged that she thought he was three, so I had to tell her that actually he is nearly five. That was a bit depressing. I also got totally peed off talking to one of the preschool assistants later who made it clear that she didn't think he had a problem at all, except for being the son of a neurotic mother. I suppose they are a bit surprised that I haven't left Zudie (or Boudie, who attends as well) at the preschool except for 15 minutes at a time lurking in the hall listening out for him, in case he has a meltdown cos he can't see me. They haven't seen him in screaming meltdown mode and if I'm really careful about making sure he's settled before I leave him for a full session, they never will insha'Allah - even though that will make them think I've got munchausen-by-proxy or something. The assistant also expressed the view that Zudie has improved so much since starting at the preschool 6 weeks ago, implying that it is all because of finally getting away from (S)mother even if only for 15 minutes. I started to try and set her straight but gave up because what's the point? She's obviously too dim to realise that he hasn't actually changed that much, he's just being more himself cos he's getting used to the preschool.
Anyway the SALT person said she really wasn't sure whether he is on the autistic spectrum or just has a severe language delay. I can't help feeling the tiniest bit frustrated that my son, who is read to and spoken to far more than any other kids I know, should have this particular problem which is so often seen as a result of parental neglect. I know so many parents who barely speak to their sprogs except to say "get up" "shut up" "eat it" "go to bed" - and their kids are still as chatty and outgoing as you could want. Well alhamdulillah for everything, his problems are miniscule compared with some kids I have seen, and I have to lift myself up a bit by thinking that without the attention we try to give him he might be worse.
I would be glad to know for sure that he doesn't have ASD, but I wonder about the little obsessions he has and the habit he has of holding objects at funny angles and staring at them, holding his cars or trains or whatever right up to the corner of his eyes and looking at them; and the way he gets so absorbed with lining up his toys and having a screaming fit if the line is broken by anyone. Not to mention the fact that it is impossible to get him to wear anything other than 2 particular pairs of trousers and one smelly pair of trainers without socks (I know some people think I should just MAKE him but believe me I have tried and it's not worth it). He has got less fussy about t-shirts now and will mostly wear any short-sleeved t-shirt (definitely no long sleeves unless they're pyjamas and it's bedtime). It's possible that he just has a few of these autistic characteristics without actually having Autistic Spectrum Disorder. Only time will tell. I can definitely say that after a peak when he was about 3-4, his autistic-type behaviours seem to be lessening. I hope it continues like this, insha'Allah. I am thinking that it might be because his confidence has increased as his language skills have improved.
I have to confess that we had some really bad wobbles over the past year. I know it is not really pc to use the word 'handicapped' now, but I'm going to say it anyway - a few times over the past year I looked at him and thought, oh my God he's a handicapped child, he's never going to be normal. The worst times were when trying to explain something to him and he would just refuse to look at me and open his mouth and scream. It was quite scary knowing that I just could not get through to him, that nothing I was saying was getting through to him, he wasn't understanding a word. Up until then, until he reached the age of four, I could regard him as still a 'toddler' that you couldn't expect to reason with or make understand why he couldn't have something or go somewhere that he particularly wanted. When Zudie reached his fourth birthday his younger brother was 2 and a half and starting to be very communicative and cooperative, so the difference was really apparent. Thank God, thank God, it seems that it was just a stage Zudie was going through and he is much better now. He will often accept it now when I tell him he can't have something immediately, but he can have it later. I think that at the age of 4 he was really more like an 18 month old in his understanding, but now, nearly a year later, he's more like a 3 year old.
What a long post! At last that sleepy feeling is creeping over me, and I must go to bed.
Zudie is improving a lot these days, in his speech and language as well as general behaviour. Speech therapy has really helped a lot I think. We've been to 5 sessions already and he has started to interact a bit with the therapist and give her a bit of eye contact as well as taking part a little bit in the 'turn-taking' games although not really the 'saying hello to the toys' game at the beginning. The advice she gives for activities to do with him at home are really useful and we've been putting in some intensive work with Zudie which is really showing benefits, alhamdulillah. His speech is a lot clearer and his use of language is more correct and in context now, although still not like that of other 4-5 year olds. He knows most of the colours now although still confuses them sometimes. He will sometimes use pronouns correctly now, and quite often says "I" instead of "he". I think he mostly says "I don't want it" instead of "he doesn't want it" which he used to say when referring to himself, for example. He will also sometimes say "you" appropriately. There's still a way to go though.
I've been trying to write down examples of his language use, because my mind usually goes blank whenever I'm asked about it at our appointments with the professionals. As I am still trying to teach him the colours (we've been working on it for at least 2 years), he can now answer my question "what colour is this?" or "what colour is Thomas?". Whether he gets the answer right is immaterial to me, just understanding the question and saying the name of a colour is progress, as he would often reply just "colour". Now he is trying to copy me by asking the question "what colour is......?(this, or Mr Happy, or whatever). But what he actually says is "what's this is green?". Some variations are: "whose James is red?" "where's Herbies is orange?" - and today, "whose green is yellow?" So his problem with processing language is fairly obvious.
One of the 'speech and language' experts came to the preschool to observe him. She had a few tries at talking to him but he either ignored her or turned away saying "no, no". But she did discreetly observe me talking to him and him answering so she was able to write something in her notes. She also saw how he freaked out a bit when a spot of paint got on his hand. When I spoke to her later it emerged that she thought he was three, so I had to tell her that actually he is nearly five. That was a bit depressing. I also got totally peed off talking to one of the preschool assistants later who made it clear that she didn't think he had a problem at all, except for being the son of a neurotic mother. I suppose they are a bit surprised that I haven't left Zudie (or Boudie, who attends as well) at the preschool except for 15 minutes at a time lurking in the hall listening out for him, in case he has a meltdown cos he can't see me. They haven't seen him in screaming meltdown mode and if I'm really careful about making sure he's settled before I leave him for a full session, they never will insha'Allah - even though that will make them think I've got munchausen-by-proxy or something. The assistant also expressed the view that Zudie has improved so much since starting at the preschool 6 weeks ago, implying that it is all because of finally getting away from (S)mother even if only for 15 minutes. I started to try and set her straight but gave up because what's the point? She's obviously too dim to realise that he hasn't actually changed that much, he's just being more himself cos he's getting used to the preschool.
Anyway the SALT person said she really wasn't sure whether he is on the autistic spectrum or just has a severe language delay. I can't help feeling the tiniest bit frustrated that my son, who is read to and spoken to far more than any other kids I know, should have this particular problem which is so often seen as a result of parental neglect. I know so many parents who barely speak to their sprogs except to say "get up" "shut up" "eat it" "go to bed" - and their kids are still as chatty and outgoing as you could want. Well alhamdulillah for everything, his problems are miniscule compared with some kids I have seen, and I have to lift myself up a bit by thinking that without the attention we try to give him he might be worse.
I would be glad to know for sure that he doesn't have ASD, but I wonder about the little obsessions he has and the habit he has of holding objects at funny angles and staring at them, holding his cars or trains or whatever right up to the corner of his eyes and looking at them; and the way he gets so absorbed with lining up his toys and having a screaming fit if the line is broken by anyone. Not to mention the fact that it is impossible to get him to wear anything other than 2 particular pairs of trousers and one smelly pair of trainers without socks (I know some people think I should just MAKE him but believe me I have tried and it's not worth it). He has got less fussy about t-shirts now and will mostly wear any short-sleeved t-shirt (definitely no long sleeves unless they're pyjamas and it's bedtime). It's possible that he just has a few of these autistic characteristics without actually having Autistic Spectrum Disorder. Only time will tell. I can definitely say that after a peak when he was about 3-4, his autistic-type behaviours seem to be lessening. I hope it continues like this, insha'Allah. I am thinking that it might be because his confidence has increased as his language skills have improved.
I have to confess that we had some really bad wobbles over the past year. I know it is not really pc to use the word 'handicapped' now, but I'm going to say it anyway - a few times over the past year I looked at him and thought, oh my God he's a handicapped child, he's never going to be normal. The worst times were when trying to explain something to him and he would just refuse to look at me and open his mouth and scream. It was quite scary knowing that I just could not get through to him, that nothing I was saying was getting through to him, he wasn't understanding a word. Up until then, until he reached the age of four, I could regard him as still a 'toddler' that you couldn't expect to reason with or make understand why he couldn't have something or go somewhere that he particularly wanted. When Zudie reached his fourth birthday his younger brother was 2 and a half and starting to be very communicative and cooperative, so the difference was really apparent. Thank God, thank God, it seems that it was just a stage Zudie was going through and he is much better now. He will often accept it now when I tell him he can't have something immediately, but he can have it later. I think that at the age of 4 he was really more like an 18 month old in his understanding, but now, nearly a year later, he's more like a 3 year old.
What a long post! At last that sleepy feeling is creeping over me, and I must go to bed.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Common Errors in English Usage
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Here is a website to gladden the hearts of everyone who, like me, gets distressed when they see the english language being mangled and abused - and yet who, like me, suspect that their own usage of the language isn't by any means perfect.
http://www.wsu.edu:8080/%7Ebrians/errors/errors.html
Scroll down for an alphabetical list of the most common errors people make.
Here is a website to gladden the hearts of everyone who, like me, gets distressed when they see the english language being mangled and abused - and yet who, like me, suspect that their own usage of the language isn't by any means perfect.
http://www.wsu.edu:8080/%7Ebrians/errors/errors.html
Scroll down for an alphabetical list of the most common errors people make.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Mayor Boris
We are all a bit gloomy here about the new Mayor. Just yesterday going home on the tube I was remembering how I had to pay a child fare for Zeno when he was 5, and now I don't pay even though he's 9, thanks to Uncle Ken's policy of free tube and bus travel for under 11s. The way Boris has been bleating on about how he will certainly keep the 'Freedom Pass' for OAPs makes me suspect that he's got his eye on making the kiddies pay. The man is already an MP, how is it possible for him to be allowed to stand for Mayor, as if both of these roles were only part-time? Ken Livingstone wasn't perfect, far from it, but he is a bone fide Londoner and passionate about this city being the capital of the world, and at least a little bit tolerant. Anway, Zoe Williams in the Guardain sums up my feelings on the matter and exposes Boris for the racist snob he is.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/politics/2008/may/01/boris.livingstone
http://www.guardian.co.uk/politics/2008/may/01/boris.livingstone
Zudie Update May 2008
The good news is we finally got some speech therapy for Zudie, a block of 6 sessions. Boudie comes along too, as the therapist says he is a good 'model' for what she wants Zudie to say and do. We've had 2 sessions so far, and I have to carry out her suggestions throughout the week. So far we've worked on taking turns (a major problem for Zudie), and greetings, which he is totally opposed to on principle, although he is happy enough to say 'goodbye' to everyone. He spends a lot of time under the chair at the speech therapists office, and shouting 'No!' if Mum starts singing (little salafi lol). He hasn't joined in much so far but at least I am picking up lots of useful advice and insights - it was Meredith who recommended the book More Than Words and who photocopied a lot of it for me. I do find it a bit bizarre the way she speaks in a high-pitched, sing-song voice but I suppose she knows her business. If I attempted that Zudie would pinch me and dig his nails in till I bled, he hates me to change the tone of my voice or raise it or sound too happy or excited about anything.
One of the other professionals we saw sent me a huge book of Social Stories (photocopied which must have taken ages, God bless her). Actually I find the 'early readers' (Oxford Reading Tree eg) also very useful for Zudie, very simple and direct sentances that seem to help him learn how to use verbs and pronouns. He loves them and repeats after me. He seems to need to hear things about a million times before he can relate them to other situations; although he says things or repeats things sometimes I don't think he really knows what he's saying half the time.
Both Zudie and Boudie went along to preschool for a couple of afternoons, and Boudie seemed to love it. Zudie stuck close to me the whole time of course and didn't interact with the other children at all although he joined Boudie in playing with some trains and track for a while. at 2pm the teacher makes all the children sit down at tables and then one of the children doles out juice and a biscuit - she got Boudie to do it on the 2nd day and he loved it. However after juice they have to stay in their chairs for ages (nearly half an hour) while she holds up pictures and cards and asks them questions, which I thought was a bit too long for that age group (most of them are 3). Boudie was bored of course and Zudie was fit to be tied so I had to leave. I will carry on for a few weeks, I doubt if I will be able to leave them there, or not Zudie anyway. They are all nice ladies at the preschool but after all these years home-educating my mindset has totally changed and I found it a bit disturbing that all these 3 year olds were taken from hearth and home and left there to begin the process of institutionalisation which will continue through primary school and secondary until they either go to uni or join the world of work. Couldn't they just have a few more years of carefree play? It's much more sensible to stay at home till at least 7, which is what the Europeans do (or so I am always told).
Got a phone call yesterday from a Clinical Psychologist who said Zudie had been referred to them by the Paediatrician. There still is no decision about whether to diagnose Zudie as ASD or not, they offered us an appointment in about 4 weeks and said they also wanted to observe him in preschool 'when he has settled in' which privately I don't think he ever will but as ever I am willing to be proved wrong.
One of the other professionals we saw sent me a huge book of Social Stories (photocopied which must have taken ages, God bless her). Actually I find the 'early readers' (Oxford Reading Tree eg) also very useful for Zudie, very simple and direct sentances that seem to help him learn how to use verbs and pronouns. He loves them and repeats after me. He seems to need to hear things about a million times before he can relate them to other situations; although he says things or repeats things sometimes I don't think he really knows what he's saying half the time.
Both Zudie and Boudie went along to preschool for a couple of afternoons, and Boudie seemed to love it. Zudie stuck close to me the whole time of course and didn't interact with the other children at all although he joined Boudie in playing with some trains and track for a while. at 2pm the teacher makes all the children sit down at tables and then one of the children doles out juice and a biscuit - she got Boudie to do it on the 2nd day and he loved it. However after juice they have to stay in their chairs for ages (nearly half an hour) while she holds up pictures and cards and asks them questions, which I thought was a bit too long for that age group (most of them are 3). Boudie was bored of course and Zudie was fit to be tied so I had to leave. I will carry on for a few weeks, I doubt if I will be able to leave them there, or not Zudie anyway. They are all nice ladies at the preschool but after all these years home-educating my mindset has totally changed and I found it a bit disturbing that all these 3 year olds were taken from hearth and home and left there to begin the process of institutionalisation which will continue through primary school and secondary until they either go to uni or join the world of work. Couldn't they just have a few more years of carefree play? It's much more sensible to stay at home till at least 7, which is what the Europeans do (or so I am always told).
Got a phone call yesterday from a Clinical Psychologist who said Zudie had been referred to them by the Paediatrician. There still is no decision about whether to diagnose Zudie as ASD or not, they offered us an appointment in about 4 weeks and said they also wanted to observe him in preschool 'when he has settled in' which privately I don't think he ever will but as ever I am willing to be proved wrong.
Zeno Update May 2008
We just had a home visit from the Educational Psychologist, who chatted with us for a while then got Zeno to do a couple of verbal and non-verbal tests. She said she will write a report and send us a copy. She does a lot of work in Hallfield School and seemed to think they would be amenable to having Zeno as a pupil for a few hours a week, and also that they would meet his needs for constant movement, talking non-stop, and also respect his writing phobia and not make him write if he didn't want to (she mentioned teaching him to touch type which I have been planning to do for a while and giving him a laptop in the classroom).
Part-time school (it's usually called flexi-schooling) is something me and Zeno have discussed often. The only worry I have would be if our home-education would have to be more structured and results-based if the school is involved, rather than fairly autonomous which is the way we have been going. I definitely won't have him taking part in any SATs rubbish. If I'm honest I only see school as an opportunity for someone else to give me a hand with teaching Zeno to be a social being; how to make friends and how to talk to people his own age without immediately turning them off him, which I haven't been able to do so far. I get a bit frustrated because I see his speech pattern as a major factor in this, not just his conversation which is how the professionals have assessed the problem. I would like him to have some kind of therapy for his stammer and help in speaking more directly and in simpler sentances. He is totally incapable of giving a simple answer to a simple question, in fact when you ask a simple question you get a verbal essay back on the subject, its background, main points and final summing-up. Anyone would find that a turn-off, let alone your average 8-10 yr old who has wandered off long before Zeno has even warmed up to his subject. I wish I knew how to help him but even if I did would I have the time? Zudie needs really intensive help at the moment as well, and he is still at that crucial stage of just beginning to process language, he is way behind even his younger brother but alhamdulillah he is improving, although painfully slowly.
Zeno went to the zoo with the scouts last Sunday, he seemed to enjoy it especially since they saw some meerkats (one of his present obsessions). Unfortunately he left his jacket behind, as I pointed out when I picked him up from Regents Park Masjid. He immediately burst into load sobs which made the other children stare a bit. He hates to lose anything. We trudged back around to the zoo, which was not as close as I thought and took ages and his jacket hadn't been handed in anyway - cue more theatrical crying (although he was genuinely upset but Zeno lives his life as if he's on stage and wants to make sure he is being heard in the stalls).
Anyway the good thing was I decided to walk back by way of the canal, and it was a lovely walk on the towpath nearly all the way home, the peace only disturbed by the constant wailing of Zeno for his lost jacket, his remonstrations with me for making him take it and for the villains who took it and didn't hand it in. All the way home lol.
Part-time school (it's usually called flexi-schooling) is something me and Zeno have discussed often. The only worry I have would be if our home-education would have to be more structured and results-based if the school is involved, rather than fairly autonomous which is the way we have been going. I definitely won't have him taking part in any SATs rubbish. If I'm honest I only see school as an opportunity for someone else to give me a hand with teaching Zeno to be a social being; how to make friends and how to talk to people his own age without immediately turning them off him, which I haven't been able to do so far. I get a bit frustrated because I see his speech pattern as a major factor in this, not just his conversation which is how the professionals have assessed the problem. I would like him to have some kind of therapy for his stammer and help in speaking more directly and in simpler sentances. He is totally incapable of giving a simple answer to a simple question, in fact when you ask a simple question you get a verbal essay back on the subject, its background, main points and final summing-up. Anyone would find that a turn-off, let alone your average 8-10 yr old who has wandered off long before Zeno has even warmed up to his subject. I wish I knew how to help him but even if I did would I have the time? Zudie needs really intensive help at the moment as well, and he is still at that crucial stage of just beginning to process language, he is way behind even his younger brother but alhamdulillah he is improving, although painfully slowly.
Zeno went to the zoo with the scouts last Sunday, he seemed to enjoy it especially since they saw some meerkats (one of his present obsessions). Unfortunately he left his jacket behind, as I pointed out when I picked him up from Regents Park Masjid. He immediately burst into load sobs which made the other children stare a bit. He hates to lose anything. We trudged back around to the zoo, which was not as close as I thought and took ages and his jacket hadn't been handed in anyway - cue more theatrical crying (although he was genuinely upset but Zeno lives his life as if he's on stage and wants to make sure he is being heard in the stalls).
Anyway the good thing was I decided to walk back by way of the canal, and it was a lovely walk on the towpath nearly all the way home, the peace only disturbed by the constant wailing of Zeno for his lost jacket, his remonstrations with me for making him take it and for the villains who took it and didn't hand it in. All the way home lol.
Kildare/Dublin Visit
It's been really busy here alhamdulillah. Went to Ireland end of March for the first time in 10 years. It was really strange to be back and seeing all the familiar places that I had completely forgotten about. I'm such a Londoner these days that I forgot I am also a Dubliner (Northside!) and it felt good to be back. It was only a flying visit so there wasn't much time for wandering around old haunts but some day insha'Allah I plan to go back and do that very thing. Cabra looked just the same, we drove past the old house and my brother asked if we would go in but I couldn't face it, too many memories of Ma and Granny hanging round the place. Over Broombridge and into Finglas was where I noticed most of the changes, it's now very built up where there used to be just quiet back roads and fields.
I didn't see much of town, just that some idiotic millenium monument has been erected (the mot juste believe me) in the middle of O'Connell Street, a meaningless towering needle that filled me with rage. Easons was a bit of a disappointment as it used to be such a magical place for me, I would spend hours browsing the departments (religion/spirituality was always a favourite, and the art department). It was all changed of course but not for the better, no comfy chairs and coffee like Books Etc. A bit boring and uninviting. Also I noticed most of their books about Islam were written by non-Muslims which was annoying. They did have one by Tariq Ramadan though which I picked up together with a Horrible History of Dublin for Zeno which I hadn't seen here. However I don't want to do it an injustice, it might still be the best bookshop in Dublin.
Visited Kildare for the first time, where my sister and most of her grown-up children live. Two of them have their own families now and it was lovely to see them all, and as I didn't have my own kids with me I could just concentrate on being an aunt (and great-aunt) for a change. Kildare reminded me a little bit of Dorset although flatter (surprisingly flat altogether actually but very green). Athy seems like a nice little town and a good place to live for someone who likes the quiet life. Niece #1l recently got back from an extended stay in South Africa so it was interesting to hear her impressions of the place and the people. Niece 2 was a star and drove us everywhere even though she was tired out from a visit to the UK (we flew to Dublin together). I visited Niece 3 in the middle of the country where they have over an acre and are full of exciting plans to build a house on their land. She has a daughter and a son and one on the way insha'Allah; the boy is a toddler and plump and gorgeous and the girl is a little bit older and so beautiful and clever masha'Allah. Niece 4 lives in London at the moment lol so didn't see her. Also visited Niece 5 at her beautiful house and got to see her 3 kids who are so lively and chatty and beautiful (I know I sound like a biased auntie but they really are exceptionally good-looking kids masha'Allah). I also got to see nieces 6 and 7 (#7 is the daughter of another sister, the one in Dorset), they are still living in Dublin and busy with their jobs and their hectic social lives....turning heads and breaking a few hearts no doubt, the tall brunette and the petite blonde.
Also managed to spend a day and a half with brother #2 and his wife in Mulhuddart, which has definitely changed beyond recognition. I quite enjoyed taking a walk around the place with Jane (sister #6). Their eldest girl has moved out now, but they still have 3 kids living at home (youngest is nearly 14 I think). They are really lovely kids and very brainy all of them masha'Allah. Went for a drive in the mountains and saw some amazing scenery. Wicklow is really beautiful and you could almost survive on the fresh air alone. Went to Glencrea and saw the detention centre where Grandad was incarcerated as a boy (for loitering, which is outrageous when you think that he was just a penniless orphan with nothing to do and nowhere to go anyway). I don't know how grim his life there was, he spent a few years there anyway before he left and went to fight in the first world war. It is now a centre for reconciliation - not for the poor boys who were locked up there for no other crime than existing, and being poor and powerless, but for those affected by the 'troubles' in Northern Ireland.
I loved the mountains, the desolate scenery and the nourishing air, the colours (purple, grey-blue, brown and green-black). I felt like I could live there and be a wild woman of the mountains, washing in the streams and shaking my fist and muttering at the passing tourists (pretty much what the present inhabitants of Wicklow do hehe). It has the same attraction for me as the desert, although you might not see the similarities at first. Something to do with the huge sky, the emptiness of the landscape which is so soothing and which lets you connect with something deep inside rather than having to engage with externals. No details or bright colours to tire the eyes only huge skies and mountain ranges, silence except for the wind (not even a bird singing)....no smells, only pure mountain air. Bliss.
I didn't see much of town, just that some idiotic millenium monument has been erected (the mot juste believe me) in the middle of O'Connell Street, a meaningless towering needle that filled me with rage. Easons was a bit of a disappointment as it used to be such a magical place for me, I would spend hours browsing the departments (religion/spirituality was always a favourite, and the art department). It was all changed of course but not for the better, no comfy chairs and coffee like Books Etc. A bit boring and uninviting. Also I noticed most of their books about Islam were written by non-Muslims which was annoying. They did have one by Tariq Ramadan though which I picked up together with a Horrible History of Dublin for Zeno which I hadn't seen here. However I don't want to do it an injustice, it might still be the best bookshop in Dublin.
Visited Kildare for the first time, where my sister and most of her grown-up children live. Two of them have their own families now and it was lovely to see them all, and as I didn't have my own kids with me I could just concentrate on being an aunt (and great-aunt) for a change. Kildare reminded me a little bit of Dorset although flatter (surprisingly flat altogether actually but very green). Athy seems like a nice little town and a good place to live for someone who likes the quiet life. Niece #1l recently got back from an extended stay in South Africa so it was interesting to hear her impressions of the place and the people. Niece 2 was a star and drove us everywhere even though she was tired out from a visit to the UK (we flew to Dublin together). I visited Niece 3 in the middle of the country where they have over an acre and are full of exciting plans to build a house on their land. She has a daughter and a son and one on the way insha'Allah; the boy is a toddler and plump and gorgeous and the girl is a little bit older and so beautiful and clever masha'Allah. Niece 4 lives in London at the moment lol so didn't see her. Also visited Niece 5 at her beautiful house and got to see her 3 kids who are so lively and chatty and beautiful (I know I sound like a biased auntie but they really are exceptionally good-looking kids masha'Allah). I also got to see nieces 6 and 7 (#7 is the daughter of another sister, the one in Dorset), they are still living in Dublin and busy with their jobs and their hectic social lives....turning heads and breaking a few hearts no doubt, the tall brunette and the petite blonde.
Also managed to spend a day and a half with brother #2 and his wife in Mulhuddart, which has definitely changed beyond recognition. I quite enjoyed taking a walk around the place with Jane (sister #6). Their eldest girl has moved out now, but they still have 3 kids living at home (youngest is nearly 14 I think). They are really lovely kids and very brainy all of them masha'Allah. Went for a drive in the mountains and saw some amazing scenery. Wicklow is really beautiful and you could almost survive on the fresh air alone. Went to Glencrea and saw the detention centre where Grandad was incarcerated as a boy (for loitering, which is outrageous when you think that he was just a penniless orphan with nothing to do and nowhere to go anyway). I don't know how grim his life there was, he spent a few years there anyway before he left and went to fight in the first world war. It is now a centre for reconciliation - not for the poor boys who were locked up there for no other crime than existing, and being poor and powerless, but for those affected by the 'troubles' in Northern Ireland.
I loved the mountains, the desolate scenery and the nourishing air, the colours (purple, grey-blue, brown and green-black). I felt like I could live there and be a wild woman of the mountains, washing in the streams and shaking my fist and muttering at the passing tourists (pretty much what the present inhabitants of Wicklow do hehe). It has the same attraction for me as the desert, although you might not see the similarities at first. Something to do with the huge sky, the emptiness of the landscape which is so soothing and which lets you connect with something deep inside rather than having to engage with externals. No details or bright colours to tire the eyes only huge skies and mountain ranges, silence except for the wind (not even a bird singing)....no smells, only pure mountain air. Bliss.
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Jerusalem Killings
When an event like the shooting in Jerusalem happens, Muslims are always being asked to show that they, too are horrified and disgusted and saddened by the killings. I find it very difficult to do so. Islam teaches that the killing of innocents is a heinous crime, and there will be no refuge for the murderer on the day of judgement. Self defence is allowed, as long as the attacker is attacking you, but as soon as they stop then your defensive fighting has to stop too.
So why do I find it difficult to condemn at attack on 'students at a Seminary'?. The first reason is that the last few weeks (just the last few weeks, don't even ask about the last 60 years) have seen many innocent Palestinians killed, including babies, including children shot by Israeli snipers while in their own homes. And no-one said anything. Not a word. Now that 8 Israelis have been killed by a Palestinian gunman however, the whole world is screaminig from the rooftops about it, the American President and the British Prime Minister have issued statements
along with other world leaders.
News footage of Palestinians in refuge camps 'celebrating' the killings has been shown (sometimes several times in the same news bulletin). Meanwhile, there was absolutely ZERO coverage of the Israeli mob that gathered to chant 'Death to Arabs', as was reliably reported by other news outlets. Instead we were told by our 'esteemed' TV news bulletins that an Israeli rabbi called for no revenge attacks. In the sure and certain hope, I believe, that for every one of the 8 Israelis killed, at least 50 Palestinians will be slaughtered.
Also, surprisingly, the Daily Mail gave a very good account of itself in reporting the incident, and actually mentioned that far from being a stronghold of peaceful scholarly pursuits, the seminary where the students were killed is actually at the heart of the violent, vicious and racist 'settler movement' in Israel.
So why do I find it difficult to condemn at attack on 'students at a Seminary'?. The first reason is that the last few weeks (just the last few weeks, don't even ask about the last 60 years) have seen many innocent Palestinians killed, including babies, including children shot by Israeli snipers while in their own homes. And no-one said anything. Not a word. Now that 8 Israelis have been killed by a Palestinian gunman however, the whole world is screaminig from the rooftops about it, the American President and the British Prime Minister have issued statements
along with other world leaders.
News footage of Palestinians in refuge camps 'celebrating' the killings has been shown (sometimes several times in the same news bulletin). Meanwhile, there was absolutely ZERO coverage of the Israeli mob that gathered to chant 'Death to Arabs', as was reliably reported by other news outlets. Instead we were told by our 'esteemed' TV news bulletins that an Israeli rabbi called for no revenge attacks. In the sure and certain hope, I believe, that for every one of the 8 Israelis killed, at least 50 Palestinians will be slaughtered.
Also, surprisingly, the Daily Mail gave a very good account of itself in reporting the incident, and actually mentioned that far from being a stronghold of peaceful scholarly pursuits, the seminary where the students were killed is actually at the heart of the violent, vicious and racist 'settler movement' in Israel.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
The Myth of the Self-Hating Jew
This book looks like a gripping read insha'Allah, excerpt in the Grauniad today:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/mar/04/israelandthepalestinians.bookextracts
While it's true that any criticism of Israeli atrocities brings a deluge of hate-mail to anyone brave enough to swim against the tide of pro-Israeli world media, the most bitter response is reserved for the so-called 'self-hating jew'.
If anyone wonders why should Israel be criticised (and unless they make an effort to look for unbiased media sources, they may not know why) read here:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/mar/03/israelandthepalestinians.usa1
I find myself unable to comment on recent Israeli atrocities, it just hurts too much. Suffice to say, that if Muslims were responsible for even a fraction of the kind of horror that is routinely inflicted upon Palestinians, the whole world would be screaming about it. Instead, there is a deafening silence from 99% of the world.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/mar/04/israelandthepalestinians.bookextracts
While it's true that any criticism of Israeli atrocities brings a deluge of hate-mail to anyone brave enough to swim against the tide of pro-Israeli world media, the most bitter response is reserved for the so-called 'self-hating jew'.
If anyone wonders why should Israel be criticised (and unless they make an effort to look for unbiased media sources, they may not know why) read here:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/mar/03/israelandthepalestinians.usa1
I find myself unable to comment on recent Israeli atrocities, it just hurts too much. Suffice to say, that if Muslims were responsible for even a fraction of the kind of horror that is routinely inflicted upon Palestinians, the whole world would be screaming about it. Instead, there is a deafening silence from 99% of the world.
Monday, March 03, 2008
Scouts
So here we are in London. It's a while since Zeno went to Scouts, so I took him yesterday . When we got there the leaders hadn't arrived to open the doors, so there were lots of boys standing around. Of course Zeno just dived in, waving 'hello' and launching into a high speed monologue which left the boys gaping. I really hate seeing them laughing and nudging each other, and asking each other 'what's he saying? can you understand what he's saying?' etc. etc. Thanks be to God Zeno is oblivious to most of it. I don't know whether his high self-esteem is a feature of his condition (sometimes I have to rein it in a bit, very gently) but thank God for it anyway, because you never want to see your child with hurt feelings or feeling rejected or humiliated.
The scout leaders arrived eventually (half an hour late which is kind of usual for them, must remember not to bother being on time in future) and straight away Zeno and the other boys (and some girls) were running round the hall like lunatics. The scout leaders are all really nice girls masha'Allah, very good with Zeno actually. There is another Muslim scout group in East London which one of the brothers from the revert group helps run - I am thinking of taking Zeno there as well as our one is only every 2 weeks. It's a long way but at least it's a straight run on the central line, and I could while away the time at the East London Islamic Centre. I know some people don't agree with having separate scout groups for Muslims, but the opportunity to get together with so many other Muslim children is really important for me. We live in a society which is not only non-Muslim but actually anti-Muslim, and I know Zeno is very aware of the underlying hostility (he's very into newspapers and news websites and we often have to discuss anti-Islamic articles or hostility to Muslims on tv - talkshows etc.). So being surrounded by like-minded Muslims can feel like - wow we can relax, no-one's giving us dirty looks or making assumptions about us cos we're Muslims.
Met up with one of the sisters from the home edders group, both her boys are ASD as well and Zeno gets on really well with them. I will have to make the effort to get to Scouts more often, cos Zeno really enjoyed it, alhamdulillah.
The scout leaders arrived eventually (half an hour late which is kind of usual for them, must remember not to bother being on time in future) and straight away Zeno and the other boys (and some girls) were running round the hall like lunatics. The scout leaders are all really nice girls masha'Allah, very good with Zeno actually. There is another Muslim scout group in East London which one of the brothers from the revert group helps run - I am thinking of taking Zeno there as well as our one is only every 2 weeks. It's a long way but at least it's a straight run on the central line, and I could while away the time at the East London Islamic Centre. I know some people don't agree with having separate scout groups for Muslims, but the opportunity to get together with so many other Muslim children is really important for me. We live in a society which is not only non-Muslim but actually anti-Muslim, and I know Zeno is very aware of the underlying hostility (he's very into newspapers and news websites and we often have to discuss anti-Islamic articles or hostility to Muslims on tv - talkshows etc.). So being surrounded by like-minded Muslims can feel like - wow we can relax, no-one's giving us dirty looks or making assumptions about us cos we're Muslims.
Met up with one of the sisters from the home edders group, both her boys are ASD as well and Zeno gets on really well with them. I will have to make the effort to get to Scouts more often, cos Zeno really enjoyed it, alhamdulillah.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Local Beauty Spots
I can't believe I have been visiting Bobbie for the last 15 years or so and never realised what a lovely part of Weymouth her house is in. For the past few months we have had the leisure to go for walks just in the local area and it is really amazing. Of course the sandy beach is where we always headed before, and still do very often. A few days ago we walked all along the Esplanade to the Sea Life Centre, past Greenhill Gardens which was looking lovely in the winter sunshine. We climbed the stairs to the roof of the 'beach hut building' (as I call it) and the view was amazing - I could have sat there all day looking at sea and listening to the waves.
There is a local beauty spot just around the corner from the house, with some lovely views of Weymouth. It's actually a short cut to Chesil Beach, as I was delighted to find out. Unfortunately the land has been sold to developers who are doing their utmost to reclassify it from its present 'common ground' definition.
Yesterday we tried a new route to Chesil Beach, turning left down Chickerell Road instead of right, then left again till we got to 'Lanehouse Rocks' - a dashing name for what is actually a dangerous road for pedestrians, especially little ones. It's a very steep road but the view at the top is worth the aching calves (well it's not that steep but I am out of condition). When you reach the summit and turn around you can see distant views of the coast on both sides - Weymouth Bay on your right and Chesil Beach on your left. We turned right at the end of Lanehouse Rocks, and took 'Camp Road', hoping to strike the coast after about 10-15 minutes, but our efforts were baffled at every turn. Towards the end of Camp Road the pavement ended and it was just too dangerous to carry on with the kids. There was a grassy bank on the other side of the road but it was kind of narrow and sloping and didn't look safe. On one side of the road (which was surprisingly busy) there was a fenced-off field which had 'army' signs all over it, and on the other was a caravan park, also completely fenced off, with a footpath running along the side (parallel to the coast). We tried walking along the army fence first, after a hundred yards or so I changed my mind after checking the map as it didn't look possible to reach the sea that way. We tried the path next to the caravan park next, always looking for a way through but it was barbed wire and thick (six foot thick in places) brambles all the way. We could see the sea by now, sparkling in the late afternoon sunshine. It was going to be a spectacular sunset, but I wanted to be home for maghrib prayer so when the footpath took a sharp turn left (away from the coast) I reluctantly decided to give up and head back home. We reached the end of the footpath 5 minutes later, and were back on a normal street with houses. I was surprised how often the pavement disappeared and left us walking on the road. Another 5 minutes saw us on the main 'Portland Road' and another glorious view down to Chesil Beach and the Isle of Portland straight ahead. We took the shortcut home from there, along a footpath running initially beside a cemetary, which after a couple of stiles opens out to the Common (Markham Common maybe?), from which Chickerell Road can be reached in about 10 minutes. It's good to know that both Weymouth Bay & Chesil are within walking distance, although the Chesil walk is much more scenic, subhan'Allah.
I am really pleased that the kids don't seem to mind walking at all, and Boudie only complained after a couple of hours brisk (for him) walking, which isn't bad for a 3 yr old alhamdulillah. As for Zeno, he recently REFUSED to get in a taxi in London and preferred to walk from Fulham Road to Queensway, masha'Allah. Of course the problem with him is getting him out of the house in the first place.
There is a local beauty spot just around the corner from the house, with some lovely views of Weymouth. It's actually a short cut to Chesil Beach, as I was delighted to find out. Unfortunately the land has been sold to developers who are doing their utmost to reclassify it from its present 'common ground' definition.
Yesterday we tried a new route to Chesil Beach, turning left down Chickerell Road instead of right, then left again till we got to 'Lanehouse Rocks' - a dashing name for what is actually a dangerous road for pedestrians, especially little ones. It's a very steep road but the view at the top is worth the aching calves (well it's not that steep but I am out of condition). When you reach the summit and turn around you can see distant views of the coast on both sides - Weymouth Bay on your right and Chesil Beach on your left. We turned right at the end of Lanehouse Rocks, and took 'Camp Road', hoping to strike the coast after about 10-15 minutes, but our efforts were baffled at every turn. Towards the end of Camp Road the pavement ended and it was just too dangerous to carry on with the kids. There was a grassy bank on the other side of the road but it was kind of narrow and sloping and didn't look safe. On one side of the road (which was surprisingly busy) there was a fenced-off field which had 'army' signs all over it, and on the other was a caravan park, also completely fenced off, with a footpath running along the side (parallel to the coast). We tried walking along the army fence first, after a hundred yards or so I changed my mind after checking the map as it didn't look possible to reach the sea that way. We tried the path next to the caravan park next, always looking for a way through but it was barbed wire and thick (six foot thick in places) brambles all the way. We could see the sea by now, sparkling in the late afternoon sunshine. It was going to be a spectacular sunset, but I wanted to be home for maghrib prayer so when the footpath took a sharp turn left (away from the coast) I reluctantly decided to give up and head back home. We reached the end of the footpath 5 minutes later, and were back on a normal street with houses. I was surprised how often the pavement disappeared and left us walking on the road. Another 5 minutes saw us on the main 'Portland Road' and another glorious view down to Chesil Beach and the Isle of Portland straight ahead. We took the shortcut home from there, along a footpath running initially beside a cemetary, which after a couple of stiles opens out to the Common (Markham Common maybe?), from which Chickerell Road can be reached in about 10 minutes. It's good to know that both Weymouth Bay & Chesil are within walking distance, although the Chesil walk is much more scenic, subhan'Allah.
I am really pleased that the kids don't seem to mind walking at all, and Boudie only complained after a couple of hours brisk (for him) walking, which isn't bad for a 3 yr old alhamdulillah. As for Zeno, he recently REFUSED to get in a taxi in London and preferred to walk from Fulham Road to Queensway, masha'Allah. Of course the problem with him is getting him out of the house in the first place.
Three Little Menaces
I am hating housework at the moment, astaghfirallah. It seems to take up all my time, and there are so many other things I would much rather be doing. The kids are terribly untidy and destructive, it's like they are on a mission to wreck the house. So far two banisters have been knocked out, the front door has had a piece removed from it, the curtains in the sitting room have been ripped, the fancy holders for holding the curtains back have been ripped out of the walls (altogether at least 6 of them), the sitting room door has somehow been pulled off its hinges, the immaculate walls have been drawn on with felt tip, pencil, and anything else they could get their hands on. I am almost tempted to give in to Abuzein's advice to remove all writing materials and all toys and puzzles from the house entirely. The toys are usually strewn around the house, but any attempt to surreptiously pick them up and put them away (I have long since abandoned the cheery cry of "tidy up time boys" as it is always met with howls of protest and derision) is found out and the boxes emptied again. The new yellow sofas have been drawn on with the 'dry wipe' markers which seem to contain an amazing amount of ink. The laptop I am writing on now has had more than half of its keys picked away so I am actually using a separate keyboard.
Is it just my kids? Everyone else's kids seem so well behaved, obedient and polite. Masha'Allah.
Is it just my kids? Everyone else's kids seem so well behaved, obedient and polite. Masha'Allah.
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