Ben decided this morning that he wanted butter rather than cream cheese on his bagel. This is not news -- he's been leaning toward butter lately. He wanted to "help" Neil apply said butter to said bagel, so he went and got his little plastic stool out of the bathroom and dragged it over to the kitchen counter. Again, not news -- he often does that when we're preparing meals. This is the cute part, where he announces, "I'm going to involve myself with the bagel, and I'm going to involve myself with the butter."
This article was sent to me by a friend and colleague who is an anthropologist. She uses it in several of her courses. It's about efforts by some parents to select for certain conditions (that most people think of as disabilities, such as deafness and dwarfism) during pre-implantation genetic testing. I'm not sure what to think. How about you?
The following two items appeared on other people's blogs yesterday, and they're fantastic -- you gotta read this stuff.
First, Jodi posted a link to this great article by Josh Swiller, a CI user who taught for awhile at Gallaudet, author of The Unheard: A Memoir of Deafness and Africa. We saw him speak at the CI convention in Sturbridge, MA, summer of 2009.
Second, Susannah put this up. Pithy, hilarious, validating -- a must-read:
Well, we've started preschool! Ben started at his new daycare facility yesterday, but his IEP didn't start until today (first day of school in our district). We made a short visit to the preschool yesterday, just to suggest what his daily schedule is going to be like (the typical kids were there -- Jackson greeted him from afar with his usual enthusiastic "Benny boy!"), and then I took him to daycare, following the route that the "school bus" (minivan with multiple carseats) will take. All went well, except that I forgot to tell the daycare providers that he still sleeps with a pacifier (I know, I know -- we're going to wean him off that soon -- terrible for oral motor development), and they didn't see the pacifier in his pack and figure that out until it was too late -- long story short, Ben didn't sleep a wink. He was in fine spirits when I picked him up, but by the time we got out to the car the exhaustion kicked in, and he was a right terror for the rest of the afternoon and evening.
And this morning we went to preschool, just like a big kid, with our big kid backpack. We made it there by 8:30 (just barely -- still working out some kinks in the morning routine), and Ben was again greeted enthusiastically by Jackson and the teachers. Apparently he had a good morning there, despite the fire drill less than half an hour later (and I'm still fuming that they scheduled one on the very first day of school for all the special needs kids -- pretty insensitive; I will be sending a Concerned E-mail to the Appropriate Party). Bus ride was fine (he reports that the bus driver is a woman, and he called her the Bus Captain), hand-off to daycare providers was fine, and (most importantly) he napped! So all in all it was an excellent day. I am sooooo happy and relieved.
Ben's most recent joke: "What's a mudroom with no mud?" "I don't know." "A no-mud mudroom!"
Yesterday, we met with his afternoon daycare teachers for the last time before he starts there next week, to discuss his hearing equipment and let them practice taking it on and off. Before we went over there, Ben reminded us that we were going to go see Monique and "explain how I hear." The cool thing about that phrase is that he came up with it on his own; we're quite sure we haven't used it ourselves.
This was posted on cicircle. It has a bunch of "conversation stoppers" that might get thrown at you during an IEP meeting, discussion of the hidden meanings behind these, and suggestions for tactful, effective ways to respond.