Rise and Shine! Back to School Visual Aid Printables

First day of school! First day of school! Our kids just finished their first (partial) week at their new school and while it's a whole new world of backpacks, lockers, and homework assignments G-bug and Truth are thoroughly enjoying it.

G-bug the 7th grader!

I've also been so blessed with the opportunity to work on campus as a student support aide in the elementary educational resource department, providing assistance for students who need extra support during the school day. It's so wonderful to work in such an amazing school and with such incredible teachers and staff - I'm excited to learn from them this year, and hopefully be a part of creating a positive and exciting learning environment for the students. :)

With this huge shift in our schooling routine, the biggest challenge that we've faced has been getting up early and out the door on time. It has been a new experience for all of us: packing lunches and backpacks, morning car lines, remembering musical instruments, turning in signatures and forms to teachers, and on and on. Thankfully, we were given some counsel from G-bug's neuropsychologist before the school year began to provide laminated visual aids/checklists to use every school night/morning to stay organized. He explained that it would help to minimize anxiety, and would also encourage independence and development of organization skills. It also prevents Mom having to carrying the burden of remembering all the things (especially since Mom's working memory is still recovering after surgery and the years of yuck - I'll post an update on my health soon in a separate post, more good news!)

After three days of school, I can confidently say that these visual aids have been a lifesaver. LIFE. SAVER. Both kids have responded so positively to this system: G-bug is able to practice her executive skills and develop her independence without constant reminders and redirections, and Truth (my super organized but slightly anxious child) finds comfort in knowing exactly what is expected of him.

Lunchbox? Check.

Flute in backpack? Checkity-check.

Every night when it's time for bedtime routine, the kids will start their school night checklists - using a dry erase marker, they check off each box when the task is completed. When they're finished, they have to turn in their checklists to a parent for review (the same goes for the morning checklists). If they miss a step, they are instructed to go back and finish the task. We practiced this routine 1-2 nights/days preceding the start of school to get the hang of it, so that by the first day of school we had worked through any potential issues and could tackle the list with confidence.

In case it is helpful for any parents/students who are preparing for another school year, here are links to customizable versions of these printable checklists  for your family to try - each list is an extra blank checkbox that you can write in any additional tasks particular to your family/child before laminating. (For example, our morning checklists include putting on glasses.) There are two versions to choose from: one that includes medication/vitamins and one that doesn't. 

If there are families who would like a homeschool version, please contact me via email and I'll be happy to create one for you as well!

School Night/Morning Checklists Printable

School Night/Morning Checklists NO Meds Printable

Please let me know if you find these helpful! And have a wonderful school year. :)


We give school a big thumbs up!

Good Things Come in Small Packages

First Day of School! First Day of School!

Welcome back, visitors - you are just in time to join us in celebrating the launch of our 6th year of homeschooling! SIXTH. Is this really happening?

I almost can't believe that G-Bug is starting her last year of elementary school today - amazing! She has grown and changed so much in the last year, and is literally growing up before my very eyes (now that she can almost look directly into mine while standing face to face). 

Truth is excited to be a third grader this year - he is relishing the fact that he is entering the threshold of "upper elementary school" and now feels the need to correct anyone who refers to him as a "little kid." In his eyes, he is on the cusp of manhood. And I can't deny it.

In other news, life outside of school is chugging along - my health is still a continual roller coaster, though answers are now slowly coming and I'm optimistic about the next year (fingers crossed and insert pleas for prayer here). The not knowing has been discouraging and burdensome, living in ambiguity and grasping for solutions without knowing the root causes. But God has continued to give daily sufficient grace, even on days when I feel incredibly fragile and weak in body and spirit. 

One way that I've been coping with my health struggles and connecting with G-Bug has been crafting miniature foods, furniture, and other accessories for her American Girl (and other 18 inch sized) dolls. It began about two years ago when we built a French kitchen/bakery for her AG doll Grace Thomas (her character runs a French bakery with her grandparents). We challenged ourselves to come up with a homemade (and FAR less expensive) version of Grace's patisserie using cardboard, craft foam, clay, and paint. 

G-Bug and Grace love it!

I found the process of watching YouTube videos and shaping, cutting, and painting the pieces to be therapeudic and fun, and it allowed me to be creative without aggravating my health. Since then, every few months G-Bug and I have challenged ourselves by creating various pieces and rooms for her growing family of dolls. 

 School is in session

Even her brother Truth regularly joins in, grabbing his stuffies and trying out the sets for himself.

Lynx in a bathtub = ridiculously cute

Now two years later, this little hobby of ours has become a small side business! In the last week, we have started making and selling little doll sets at a local artisan shop and on Etsy.  G-Bug, co-creator of MiniMaples, is channeling her entrepreneurial spirit into offering ideas for new doll sets and marketing strategies (and many of them are brilliant, I must admit).

We can't wait to get these miniature sets into the hands of children and adults to encourage bonding and creativity through imaginative play!

MiniMaples display at 

Treehouse Artisans and Merchants in Louisville, KY

I can't wait to see what the future holds as we begin this little adventure. 

Asking for Help

Three math problems. 90 minutes. Equals 30 minutes per problem.

Only four more to go.


A child wrapped in a preteen body, crumpled into a infant's pose. Whimpers. Silent tears dripping down blotchy cheeks.

Alone. Afraid. Angry. And still somehow absent.

Mother, dragging herself through a quagmire of pain, tiredness, and frustration. Reaching for patience and kindness but instead grasping the side of the couch in anger and despair.

Help.

Slowly, Mother lets go and reaches out to touch the shivering shoulder of the child next to her.

Like a spring, the tightly wound girl releases, turns and clings tightly to Mother. Tears fall on her shoulder.

Mother encircles the clinging child and utters words that bubble up from some unseen stream and flow out of her mouth to drip gently down, soaking the wounded and parched hearts below.

It's ok.

I'm proud of you.

You asked for help.

We all need help sometimes.

I am here for you.

I'll always be here for you.

I want to help you.

We can do this.

Let's do it together.


With each word, the trembling slows. Tears subside. The arms still tightly cling as if holding each word close to the chest, afraid to let go.

Ok.

Four math problems. Twenty minutes. Equals smiles and deep sighs of relief.

Thank you.

Declutter with Less Drama - Free Printable

It's nearly the beginning of a new year, and I'm ready to say adieu to 2016 and, "Helloooo 2017!"**
**"And please don't hurt me."

Just as it has been for many others, 2016 has been a year of big ups and downs.  On the upside, school has been going really well this year. We've enjoyed weekly get togethers with other homeschool families to review content, do crafts, and perform science experiments.

Miss Alyssa always makes science fun 

Discussing forms of energy

Another big event that happened this year is that we moved into a new home, which has more room to grow, learn, rest, and show hospitality to family and friends. We now officially have a homeschool room, which is an unexpected blessing. A whole closet dedicated to school supplies?? Be still my heart!

Get schooled. 

Awkward hallway = new school library!

We feel like we've been here for much longer than a few months - the kids' room more than doubled in size and they have loved having so much space to play, draw, create, and build.

Two unfinished doors + IKEA cube shelves =

MEGA DESK

I will confess that I naively thought that more space would automatically translate into less clutter, more room, and more organization. (Look at that photo above when we first moved in! Doesn't it look tidy?)

Nope.

In our case, more space has meant more places for clutter to grow. And grow. And GROW.

I am not a perfect housekeeper. Never will be. It's a losing battle to have an immaculate, stain- and clutter-free home with actual humans in the house. However, our family (especially our kiddo with sensory issues) struggles with too much visual input, at times contributing to a lot of distraction and/or anxiety.  Having visually "quiet" spaces in our home is essential for us to function well.

So today, the kids and I had a family meeting at lunch after seeing them struggle to get their room in order after two days of hard work and effort. The post-Christmas toy surge had totally obliterated any resemblance of order in there, and they had simply run out of places to cram, stow, and stash their loot.  AND they were asking to go to Target to buy even MORE toys with their savings. WHAT?? :/

I will confess that the family meeting came after a less than productive outburst earlier in the morning when the kids went into their room to finish tidying, but they got so overwhelmed and distracted that they promptly forgot their task and started playing Lego instead. I scolded and I dropped the dreaded D-words that my daughter in particular loathes and fears: Declutter. Donate.

So before our meeting, I apologized for my outburst, prayed for wisdom and patience, and did some research. Decluttering can be hard for anyone, but it can be an anxiety-riddled nightmare for some people on the autism spectrum. Lots of change, loss of control, and inability to break down a huge task into smaller steps is just too much to handle without help. We needed a visual aid, and fast.

(scroll to bottom for link to download a free copy)

There were three key issues that we needed to address to ensure decluttering with less drama:

1) Why declutter?

Motivation isn't always obvious. Help your kids understand the benefits of having a clutter free space, and give them a vision for who they might help by giving things away nice but unwanted items to others.

2) What has to go?

Having clear criteria for when it's time to give something away is so helpful. Is it broken? Goodbye. Do I already have a Spiderman action figure? Keep one, donate one. Is it from a fast food kids meal? Sayonara, sucker. They should also have room to store the toys they want to keep - no room on the shelf or under the bed means it's time to thin out the hoard.

3) Clear goals and reward

Set clear expectations and guidelines. The phrase "clean your room" is too vague - do you want all of the books put back on the bookshelf? Or do you only care that the floor is clear of clutter for safe walking? Decide, then communicate goals clearly and precisely. Use pictures for kids who are unable to read or who respond better to visual cues.

Be sure to gauge your expectations on the child's ability and your family's needs (limit to 3-4 goals max - the more goals, the more time/days needed to accomplish them). Since we chose big goals, we only tackled one today and will space out the rest over the next week.

And to ensure proper degree of motivation and enthusiasm, a highly desired reward should be offered when all of the cleaning goals are met. Going out for ice cream is our go-to major reward for very big accomplishments.

So with the Declutter Checklist in hand, G-Bug and Truth ran upstairs to complete the most tear-inducing task on the list first: sorting and downsizing their overpopulated mountain of stuffed animals to a reasonably sized herd. Previous attempts at this have resulted in only parting with one or two fuzzy friends who were mourned over for days (or weeks) with many, many tears.

An hour later, the kids came down with almost HALF of their stuffies packed up and ready to donate. And zero tears. I almost cried with relief.

Half of the hoarde, headed to new homes

So as the new year approaches, you might be planning your own Operation: Simplify. If it would be helpful, feel free to download a FREE copy of our declutter guidelines below. Or make your own! Notebook paper and stick figures are just as effective as Word documents with bullet points. You've got this!

CLICK HERE FOR FREE DOWNLOAD

Happy New Year, everyone!

Speaking in Stories and Autism

A few months ago, my husband Jason ran across a review of Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter Ron Suskind's book Life, Animated: A Story of Sidekicks, Heroes, and Autism. In his book, he describes his son Owen's autism diagnosis and limited communication, and how Owen was able to find his voice by quoting and referencing Disney movies to communicate his feelings and observations of the world around him.

Owen had a breakthrough around six years old, when he observed his brother having a meltdown after a birthday party. He referenced a Disney movie to express his observations of the situation and attempt to understand why his brother was upset.

“ ‘Walter doesn’t want to grow up,’ he [Owen] says evenly, ‘like Mowgli or Peter Pan,’” Mr. Suskind recalls. It is Owen’s first complex sentence, and he says it looking straight at his parents. Later that day, Mr. Suskind picks up a puppet of Iago, the parrot sidekick in Disney’s animated “Aladdin.”
“So, Owen, how ya’ doin’?” he asks in Iago’s voice. “I mean, how does it feel to be you?”
“I’m not happy,” Owen answers. “I don’t have friends. I can’t understand what people say.”
A whole new world begins.*

*Source:  http://www.nytimes.com/2014/05/22/books/life-animated-by-ron-suskind.html?_r=0

His parents immediately saw an opportunity to help Owen learn and communicate using Disney movies as observations of social interaction and understanding emotions. AND IT WORKED.

Owen's story completely resonated with us. Our sweet daughter G-Bug is a social, loving, zany eight-year-old on the autism spectrum. She has come a long way in the three years since her diagnosis, and yet things like expressing her inner thoughts and feelings are still extremely difficult and rarely communicated to anyone.

Like Owen, G-Bug recently displayed just how powerful stories and narratives impact her, and how they can also help her communicate her own thoughts and feelings.

Gracie rediscovered a VHS copy of the movie "The Lion King" in our basement, and asked to watch it over and over. It's a great story - a young lion who tragically loses his father and, assuming he is responsible, runs away. Over time, he realizes that he must face his past, and step into the role he was meant to take: a good and protective leader and king. Gracie was enthralled, but never really wanted to talk about the themes or her thoughts on the movie when I tried to prompt a conversation. I assumed she was just digging the music and the the Pumba fart jokes. What kid wouldn't?

A couple of weeks later, we were sitting at the table doing math problems and singing Hakuna Matata. Out of the blue, she remarked, "You know, the past can hurt sometimes."

Surprised and curious, I said, "Well, yes that's true. Are you thinking of something in particular?"

"Yes," she said. "Like when someone dies."

She then talked about someone she loved like a grandfather who had passed away the year before. She talked about how she saw that his death affected specific people who were still grieving his loss, even though they didn't really show it. I was stunned at her insight, her observations, and her ability to articulate things I had never guessed that she was feeling or observing.

And then the moment passed. Two minutes of deep, heartfelt conversation and then it was abruptly over. She has never talked about those things since.

People are complicated and difficult to understand sometimes. For people with autism, even more so. If you are trying to connect with and love someone on the spectrum, be open to new ways to teach or encourage relationships and empathy toward others. It might require calling on a lion prince, a wise cracking parrot, or a dragon tamer to open a well into a spring of deep thoughts and feelings buried below a seemingly barren surface.

A Hard Day

My post on Facebook today:

I try not to post too often about how hard things can be, but could you please pray for us? I don't know if it's the weather or what, but the last week or so has been terribly hard here at Four Maples. I actually cried during our first lesson today from sheer exhaustion and frustration. It feels almost impossible to complete simple lessons without a meltdown happening, or total inattentiveness, or forgetting a task right after it's been explained. Anything without pictures is totally unlearnable. My words have little/no meaning, because the ability to comprehend them isn't there.

It feels like I'm writing instructions on a chalk board, and when I turn to the student to explain it the words magically erase. So I write it again, turn to the student, and it's gone again. Over and over and over. And there isn't even the small comfort of a child's ability to communicate what is making things so hard to understand, or even eye contact or body language to give a little hope that anyone is even mentally present with me. Nothing.

I love my job. I love my kids. I love homeschooling. I love that we can work at the pace and in the environment that my daughter needs to learn best. But today I am weary. And I just wanted to share that in honesty, because everyone has hard days at their work and no one always handles those days perfectly. And today of all days I'm grateful for the promise and reality of a God who is a closer friend and Father than even the best of friends here on earth, who walks alongside us in this broken world, and comforts us in rock solid love.

"For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith - that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God." - Ephesians 3:14-19

Having "The Talk" with my daughter

World Autism Awareness Day is coming to a close, and after three years of having the diagnosis I finally had "the talk" with my daughter, telling her she was on the autism spectrum.

I had been sort of dreading the conversation, wondering when it would be best for her to officially know. Mostly because I didn't want her to feel a sense of negativity or over-identification with a particular part of herself that could be seen as limiting or stigmatizing. 

But mostly I was just afraid I'd screw it all up. 

It seemed like such a huge conversation to have with her - so many long term ramifications, possibly even sadness or anger, or confusion. We have talked with her (and her brother in his moments of frustration) about certain issues - how change is harder for her, that she can't tell when someone is getting irritated with her if they don't say so, that sounds, loud and crowded places, and food textures that bother her have to do with how her brain makes them seem louder/painful/sickening to her. But to actually say to her, "You have autism," was not something I was sure she was ready to understand, or something I was ready to say.

So today, the opportunity presented itself over breakfast while I was looking online at some autism awareness pins. G-bug and Truth noticed what I was doing and they asked me what those puzzle pins were on my computer. So we talked about what a diagnosis is, and gave some examples like how we all have allergies and get sneezy in the spring, and that I sleep with a machine at night because of my sleep apnea (you're welcome for that little tidbit of TMI). Because the doctor knows that I stop breathing at night, they can give me a machine that helps me sleep and my body work better.

We talked about how each person is created unique, and with special strengths and weaknesses. And then we talked about autism, that it means that a person's brain might work a little differently than some other people. It makes being flexible and handling change difficult. It might make people's senses go haywire. It might make it hard to understand what other people are thinking and feeling, and how to make friends in some cases. But people on the spectrum can also be really good at things, like photographic memory, or remembering whole narratives or songs without really trying (G-bug was listening intently while I was talking, with no eye contact of course.)

Then we talked about some of our favorite people who are on the autism spectrum, and how some things are hard for them but they are also really good at other things because of their unique brain.

Then I tentatively told Gracie that she is also someone with this condition. I almost cringed anticipating her response.

Without missing a beat, she said matter of factly, "Yeah, I know."

Me: "Really? How did you know?"

G-bug: "You know, because of my legs and how my body feels sometimes."

Me: "And how some things are hard for you?"

G-bug: "Yeah."

Me: "But it's also why you are so good at remembering things you see, and songs you listen to - there's a lot of good and some hard stuff too. God made each of us in His image, special and unique."

G-bug: "Yeah. And can I have two cat vitamins now?"

And that was it.

I don't know what I was expecting, but that certainly wasn't it. She already knew?

As the day progressed, I assumed she had forgotten all about our conversation - nothing was said, and nothing indicated that she gave a second thought to our talk... until later that afternoon while playing Mario Kart at a friend's house. Out of the blue, she asked me to remind our friends that today was World Autism Awareness Day, because she had it, and that it meant that her brain worked differently, and made some things hard for her, but made her really good at other things. And then she promptly went back to her game of Mario Kart.

That's G-bug. Deep conversations like sound bytes in the most surprising moments. And then it's gone.

Now I'm no fool. I know this is the first conversation of many more to come. But the conversation has begun, and instead of dancing around the large puzzle-piece-patterned elephant in the room we are facing it together with honesty and solidarity. I have no idea how being on the autism spectrum will continue to affect her into adolescence, into her teens, into adulthood, into marriage and parenting if that is part of her future. But I know that I'm so glad that I'm her mom, and I'm ready to walk with her through each of those seasons and have as many hard/encouraging/scary/wonderful conversations as she needs to have. And I'm already praying for the ability to do it.

So light it up blue today. For G-bug, for her friends like Jack, and for so many others affected by and living (emphasis on LIVE) with autism.

G-bug snuggles are The. Best.

Light It Up Blue!

Today is World Autism Awareness Day, just over the 2 year mark of G-bug's diagnosis on the autism spectrum. She has taught us so much about perseverance, patience, joy, selfless love, grace toward others, and creativity through her daily example.

Some days are incredibly hard, but all days are meaningful and part of her story. She is a gift.