Story Walk

 In case you are wondering, and even if you are not, here's what I've been up to for the past ten weeks:

See those kids above and their babysitter? They are enjoying the literacy project that I helped create. In the course of taking a Literacy Leadership graduate class, I needed to initiate a literacy reform project and jumped in with the local librarian to create a Story Walk along the fence where many children and adults walk to and from school. It is also the path used in the summer to get to the city park and swimming pool.

What is a story walk you ask? It is a combination of dismantled books, poems reprinted line by line, comics, words, letters, and pictures chosen to challenge and intrigue everyone from emerging to conventional readers. Every few weeks the selection is replaced with new materials.

Did you know that mental maturity and drill have less to do with literacy learning than children having an abundance of print experiences before starting school and that "easy access to books, magazines, and other reading materials is an essential factor to schools where children become readers and writers" (Allington & Cunningham, 2007, p. 63).  

Also, low-income children tend to fall as much as two months behind in their reading achievement during the summer months because they have less access to computers and reading materials so relying solely on school materials nine months per year is inadequate literary access (Viadero, 2010). Besides that, “children whose knowledge of a topic is limited have difficulty comprehending much of what they read and difficulty communicating in writing about that topic" (Allington & Cunningham, 2007, p. 52). So this project is an effort to expand background knowledge and draw more families into public libraries.

Hopefully, as people walk along they will read, think, and discuss the print, practicing their reading skills and expanding their repertoire of print experiences. They may also become acquainted with the materials available at the public library and be more motivated to make use of it year round.

The project is a bit time consuming since the materials have to be prepared, laminated, and secured to the fence, which is about a 12 hour process, but it is creative and fun. And if it motivates struggling readers, then it is definitely worth the effort and time. Of course,  gathering the project data through interviews, surveys, and research, then compiling and interpreting it before creating and implementing a reform plan, summarizing the results, and evaluating the process was also a bit time consuming. Twelve pages worth of time, in fact, but also worth the effort.

So that's where part of my time has gone - along with a couple book studies and weekly response papers. Oh, yeah...and helping Mom on the side...er, in the middle.

Ninety-eight and Doing Great!

You'll Be Surprised!

Beautiful Monotony

  

Kneeling on the cool floor and gripping the chilly porcelain counteracted the heat and strain of my sweating face and lurching stomach. When my head wasn’t spinning this week from pain medicines gone awry I was gripping my jaw in a futile effort to rid it of the infection-induced stabs of agony. Contemplating my predicament from a fetal position gave me a renewed respect for others who suffer from much worse fates than dental problems and made me appreciate the ordinariness of middle ground.

   

A loose crown allowed one of my teeth with a partial root canal to become re-infected, requiring a complete job done on its other canals. Although not life threatening, it certainly demolished my pompous complacency. The added complication of resorting to prescription meds that my weak stomach couldn’t tolerate was my own fault, but the experience served as a reminder of how much others with life-threatening or chronic diseases have to face day in and day out. Even children are not immune. When the cure seems as bad as the condition, how do they work through it? With faith and hope, I guess. It certainly puts my complaints into better perspective.

   

A week ago I was ready to whine out a blog about how there is nothing to write about because life is so mundane from one day to the next. Ho hum and shame on me. Barring these last few days, my family is safe, healthy, untormented, comfortable, cared for, loved, and connected. Mundane is good. Mundane should be celebrated. A boring day is victorious! Who cares if my biggest bit of news is that we sat on the porch and read books on a sunny afternoon? There was no pain, no loss, no horror; just warmth, companionship, and gentle entertainment. I wish everyone a lifetime of such peaceful, boring, lovely days.

Guardians

We have recently adopted a couple of outdoor protectors whose quiet presences grace the front yard decor. No deer or gnomes or wooden bears for us, but angels and lions instead. While I'm sure this suggests some type of metaphor, the truth is, I am just drawn to them. I love the gentle strength that I see reflected in their faces and forms. 

As for my wise-assed frog friends...

well, I like their spunk.

Happy Birthday, Sarah!

You're such a cutie. We love you!

Worth It

 

Mom is wielding a bean bag in the above picture, fulfilling her occupational therapist's belief in her that she can knock down every pin. Twenty minutes and over fifty tries later, it was a reality recorded in the picture below. Faith provided the motivation and willingness to risk failure, but hard work, trial-error-adjustment, and determination created the success.

Also pictured on the right is the pole that the physical therapist has helped her to learn to use as a transfer aid. The horizontal bar lifts and rotates around the pole, then lowers to lock into place to use as a grip. It all adds up to a little more freedom, muscle building, and greater self-esteem. 

Besides fear, Mom has had to overcome self-doubt, apathy, and bias (she didn't want the therapies nor aids in the beginning) and accept help (regardless of its form) in order to move forward in her healing. Before the therapy started, she was depending on faith, alone, for her progress, but we all know that God expects more from us than that. The journey has been psychological, emotional, and physical, and so have the achievements.

So what are we dreaming of that is worth our faith, hard work, and determination?

New Set of Wheels

Mom has a new set of custom-built wheels. Assembled especially for her, this new chariot is low slung with comfort padding and an extended brake system. Over the weekend she has learned to walk and turn the wheels simultaneously, fit through tight spaces, negotiate corners, and cross thresholds without high centering. Although not allowed to tackle ramps, she has the run of most of the main floor, which adds a little interest to her day.

Sometimes one needs to be a bit creative (and quite silly) when trying to negotiate a break in caregiving. It helps to have a good friend:


Dear Lady in Black,
Be prepared; "Operation Sneak Out" goes into effect starting tomorrow night. If Plan "A" to WW is aborted then Plan "B" goes into effect (have your walking shoes on); of course we could always opt out for Plan "C" but it involves a bonfire and your neighbors could get a wee testy. Small fire, though, so it is still in the pot for consideration.
Dress your best, I'm thinking camo (optional) and/or dark clothing would be fitting.
Love,
The Queen of Sneak

Your Sneaky Highness,
You are such a great friend!
I will be ready for whatever adventure we can drum up.
If we make it to WW, though, I'm worried about you driving home at midnight. you are welcome to stay the night. You can have J's room with the sofa bed and the half bath and we'll make sure you are up early to get to work.
Hope I'm not too old for these late night shenanigans. Maybe I can catch a wee nap this afternoon.
Contemplating my disguise...
Lady in Black

Lady in Black,
Last night was fun and I'm ready for the next adventure! I stayed up until 2 am reading my Kindle (did I tell you it was a GOOD story) then slept like a log until I got up at 6 am. Yes, it was a solid 4 hours; no tossing or turning. I felt so refreshed this morning. I really need to borrow the Harry Potter books to catch up on the gap between where I left off and last night's movie. I'm glad you were able to fill me in on the story as we travelled to WW.
The trip home was good, only passed 4 cars so I was able to use my brights most of the trip. Hardly anyone was out in the wee hours of the night.
Thanks for the movie - my turn next time.
Savoring the adventure,
The Queen of Sneak

Queenie,
I'm so glad you had no trouble getting home! Mom and I both had a good day yesterday. I think Tuesday's late night escape did us both good; Mom realized she'd done something special for me, and I got out and did something I really wanted to do (with nearly no guilt). I don't know how you do it on four hours of sleep, though. Although I read awhile too and got one more hour of snoring in than you, I was still falling asleep during So You Think you Can Dance tonight.
I have the books and DVDs ready to send to you so you can fill in the gaps. I was distressed that you had to learn about Dumbledore in such a heartless manner. We should have watched Deathly Hallows, part 1 before our rendezvous, but I was too impatient.
Thanks again for the daring adventure, the pleasure of which will satisfy me for a long time...or, at least, until the next time!
Take care, Queen of Sneak. I remain forever your friend,
Lady in Black

You Never Know

When our kids were little, Don and I used to celebrate our wedding anniversary after they were in bed by cooking steaks and baked potatoes (sans microwave) and having a late night picnic dinner on our living room floor at Aunt Blanches’ coffee table. Although I tried to plot a way for us to spend an hour or two alone this year, too, it kind of backfired when Mom ended up in the hospital with her second stroke in two months. So, instead of a picnic dinner in the park or a movie, we grabbed a quick lunch at Arby’s between our separate doctor appointments and visiting Mom in the hospital. I guess after thirty-seven years we’ve learned nothing if not how to be flexible.

Luckily, both strokes were light and left Mom with only minor changes. She has lost a little peripheral vision on the right side as well as some short term memory. Speech and swallowing have been slightly affected and there is weakness in her right hand, but the first two have improved noticeably and she works relentlessly at all three. Thankfully, Mom is still able to bear her own weight and take small steps (with assistance) and her mind is still quite sharp. We have Home Health therapists and nurses coming out our ears, but we have learned a lot from them.

These changes are emotional for all of us. Mom fluctuates between being scared, discouraged, thankful, and irritated and I think we all battle moments of claustrophobia because of how enmeshed our lives have become. Even those people or institutions meant to help us sometimes seem to have more control over our lives than we do, which can be disconcerting, to say the least.  But we just keep plugging along and thanking God for each other, family, friends, and time. After all, you just never know.

At the hospital we learned about a shower cap that washes your hair without any dripping.

This pen from Staples gives Mom the greatest control over her writing.

 

This place setting of silverware from "Good Fit" provides a knife that cuts meat by a "rocking" rather than sawing action and utensils that bend at the neck and have thick, rubber handles for greater control for arthritic hands.

Belly to the Bar!

A physical therapist and an occupational therapist are coming to the house to help Mom for a few weeks. Already we have picked up some helpful information. Among other things, the occupational therapist showed us some bendable silverware that would help compensate for Mom’s crooked fingers and limited range of motion. The first week of physical therapy focused on Mom’s stance and center of gravity.

This first picture is the way she has been standing, even with help, for about a year and a half; in fact, she is straighter than usual in this picture. Normally, she is more bent at the hips and from the waist down she leans farther backwards, like the right half of the letter “X”. The more tired she is the worse she bends and leans.

Here she is after 40 minutes of therapy and practice. It wasn’t until I took these pictures and showed them to her that she understood what she was doing. Holding her hips over her ankles felt very foreign to her so she has to relearn what “normal” feels like. The therapist kept telling her to “belly up to the bar” as a reminder to stick her stomach out and bring her hips forward. It is amazing what a help this is to me during our transfers. I hadn’t realized how much I was unnecessarily being pulled against. I hope we are able to maintain what we learn from these patient women.

I Don't Mind

I don’t mind being on call for bathroom runs, being an extra set of hands for dressing, being the motor for your wheels and I’m glad to fetch, organize, and fix. It’s an honor to do for you as you did for all of us and it is with love that I try to provide companionship, entertainment, dignity, and support.

But I wish you could realize that I am still a work in progress. My patience is long but limited and I am not immune to my own aches, fatigue, and hurt feelings.

I suppose you thought the same thing, though, when I was little and you were over forty, when Dad was weakening, Letha was needing company, and Aunt Blanche was keeping you home. We needed the same kind of attention and care from you that you need now and our fears were often irrational, too.

You have taken care of everyone and now I want to take care of you. It’s not perfect, but I do the best I can and I keep trying to do better. I hope you don’t mind.

Don't Judge a Book by Its Cover

I told the kids that this was what I learned in Ravenna and illustrated it with comparative pictures of the simple outsides and ornate insides of a church and a mausoleum. We looked at the mosaics up close and then far away before retiring to a craft room in the local library to create our own.

How do you hold the interest of a mixed group of preschool- through adult-aged listeners? I had 15-20 minutes to convey the essence of Italy and its culture in a fascinating enough fashion to keep five year olds from hyperactive wall climbing, pre-adolescents from disdainful dozing, and adults from chatting in whispers about the weather. Mine was the first presentation of the summer reading program, One World…Many Stories. It wasn’t perfect, but it sufficed, and I enjoyed being able to share it.

After we explored a tiny bit of “the Boot,” the kids made mosaics with foam tiles. I’m pretty sure this is the part they will remember the most, which validates that week it took to cut 1328 three-eighths-inch squares. Then we sampled some finger foods that I’d gotten at a nearby import store. Although a little vino, cappuccino, and squid might have been more authentic, I settled for some ricotta-filled cannelloni, lemon cookies, candies, spumoni gelato that had very little resemblance to its frozen namesake, and breadsticks.

As always, I learned a little something from the experience. Besides the reminders that more is still not better and that kids comprehend much more than they get credit for, I also came to appreciate that teaching has given me a new perspective. Whether it is old experiences or new, I am seeing life through a new lens, constantly thinking about how it could be used in a classroom. I can’t wait to apply this perspective on another trip.

My Daddy, My Pal

Happy Father's Day, Dad. I love you.

What 'Cha Readin'?

Welp! I just finished my last assignment and have another two graduate credits under my belt. The courses I’ve been taking this year for a reading endorsement have been very enjoyable, thanks to the instructors and the reading material. I really like taking online courses. Although, they require a lot of self-motivation and technical problems could potentially wreak havoc, I have had some understanding instructors that know how to make it all work.

This term I took a course that had us reading a truckload of children’s literature, from pre-school through young adult levels. Besides getting acquainted with what is out there, we also learned what to watch for in quality and culturally authentic authorship, and how to match books to children’s development levels rather than just using the book’s reading level as a guide. It was enlightening to have some substantial guidelines to help discriminate between books that are nice reads versus books that actually fit a child’s cognitive, psychosocial, moral development level and nudge growth in those areas as well. We also discussed censoring and banned and challenged books, which is scary for teachers and librarians to think about.

Stimulating as it is to take these courses, it is also nice to finish one up. I’ve been able to start reading and writing for fun again, hence the new blog entry, but I think I will continue to intersperse more children’s literature in with my own choices. I was quite impressed with some of what’s out there for kids. Besides using them for read-alouds to the whole class or for students to read individually, much of it also lends itself well for curriculum lessons. I just hope I can somehow retain everything I’ve learned. My memory these days closely resembles a sieve.

Moral Support

This Life

The proverbial “other shoe” has, indeed, dropped. Of course, it happened at the busiest time possible, but we are over the initial bustle, have adjusted, and things are finally settling down.

The long and short of it is that Mom had a mild stroke over a week ago. We did not see signs of it in progress, maybe it happened at night, but when we noticed the effects we took her in to the ER and a brain scan confirmed it. Her short term memory and her ability for complex reasoning are slightly affected. Sometimes she struggles for a word, but we feel really thankful that it isn’t worse.

 

However, that’s not all. Mom has been slowly losing the use of her legs, primarily from the build up of arthritis and poor circulation, and one morning, two days before the stroke, she got up and could barely move her feet under her own power. Although it is a little better now, two weeks later, it takes constant effort on her part and means that we needed to start using the transport chair in the house. Don put a ramp in from the living room to the apartment so that she can be easily brought into the living room and be allowed to keep her bedroom and bathroom in the apartment. He also was given a metal ramp with railings to cover the outside steps. The hardest part of all this was spending countless nights helping her out of bed and one step to a commode and back about every 1 ½ to 2 hours, but that is a little better, too, and we have caught up on a bit of sleep. Thank goodness for the lady who comes in to stay with Mom when I need a nap or to run errands.

I don’t know how Mom can be so fragile and so tough at the same time. I guess that’s how she made it to 97: staying strong enough to endure, yet vulnerable enough to enjoy it. Maybe that’s a lesson for us all.

You Are So Beautiful to Me

 

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY, MOM!! I love you.

Happy Birthday, Danielle!

A sensitive mind sees outside the box;

An artistic spirit guides creative hands.

Attuned to giving, seeking peace;

A kind heart thoughtfully understands.

Touching

 

I watched a glassblower on OPB this afternoon. It is such a beautiful, dynamic art to behold in its creation. I have a fear of explosions so, when I once sat in the same room as a glassblower, the roar and heat of the ovens unnerved me a bit, but the dance and movements of the artists and molten lumps of glass were mesmerizing. One small puff of air into a rod, or one tiny clip of needle-nosed pliers made indelible changes to each creation. Although the final products were all glass, the momentary influential touch of many things (heat, movement, chemistry, tools, and layers and twists of color) made each unique.

I almost didn’t notice him. There was certainly nothing noteworthy in the little gentleman, stooped with age, who shuffled past us in tiny half-steps like the comical character created by the hilarious Tim Conway. Or, rather, we passed him, since we were moving with much greater speed and efficiency. It was, after all, a vacation we had dubbed “Lorenzo’s Fitness Tour” because of all the walking and climbing that we did to squeeze in as much art, architecture, and breathtaking views as possible. On this day, we were entering one renaissance church in a succession of several that spanned the city so that we might continue our quest to flood our senses with frescos and marble statues, columns and mosaics.

He was dressed in what looked to be his Sunday best, albeit a little worn and humble, but what caught my attention was his bent stature and struggling pace. I was smug enough to pity him and think how impossible the cobbled streets would be for many people like him and my mom. I imagined him a local who had been to morning Mass and wondered that he did not have relatives to help him. Could he not afford a taxi or bus? But then my thoughts were intercepted by the carved font and tall ceilings as we stepped through the church door into another century.

I don’t remember where we went or in what order that day, but I’ll never forget coming out of the next church we visited in another part of town. As the bright light of the clear October day assaulted us, my eyes came to rest on a familiar figure coming toward us. Here was the same gentleman; there was no mistaking his painfully slow shuffle across the geometric cobbles. With his return came a new perspective. Was this another pilgrim on a journey like our own?

Suddenly, my need to “fix” things for him, was challenged. He was teaching me something. I was the hare, he was the tortoise, but speed and ease of gait didn’t matter on a pilgrimage. As he had just proven, he would see everything we would see or at least everything that was important to him; maybe at different times and in different slants of light, but with the same level of determination.

Helping people is a good thing, a great and selfless thing, but sometimes it is the effort, the doing, that is as important as the goal and we must be careful not to take that away from each other in our haste to help. He was on his journey and I was on mine, but, in that one shared moment, like a bit of molten glass on a blower’s spinning rod, I was forever changed.

Happy Birthday, Jennifer!

An eye for the future and hands that bring care,

A mind that solves puzzles with creative flare;

A sensitive spirit, a determined soul,

A willing heart keeping family whole.