Kiss My Knits!

We’re going through the process of re-doing Em’s testing for her IEP (individual educational plan) to determine what services she’ll be getting in middle school. There’s a test called the BASC that teachers and parents fill out with a bunch of multiple choice questions like “Argues when denied own way” and “Refuses to join group activities.” This is the first year Em’s been old enough to fill out her own, or at least the first year she’s filled it out at home so we can see it. It’s very interesting.

I was pleased to see that “My parents are always telling me what to do” got a false. And amused to see that “My parents are always right” also got a false. Heh. She’s got our number.

Em: You should make me a chore chart. I can do all the chores on it.
Me: Okay, I can definitely do that for you.
Em: What would the chores be?
Me: Well, why don’t we start with hanging out the clothes?
Em: Okay! You can help.

I help, but she does most of it.

Em: What else?
Me: You could do the laundry.

I guide her through the laundry.

Em: What else?
Me: You can use the sweeper in the den.

I give her tips on the sweeper. We get to a “good enough” place and I show her how to empty it.

Em: Okay. You should go make the chart now.

And so I do, adding her regular chores, like “put away clothes” and a field called “bonus.”

Em: What’s that?
Me: I want you to look around the house and find something that you think needs to be done, and then do it.

She settles on feeding the cat.
We mark off all her chores for the day.

Em: And when all my chores are marked off, you can give me a toy.
Me: …

How did I not see that coming?

Report on Em’s birthday party

I seem to have picked up allergies or a cold or possibly the plague. Okay, it’s not the plague (probably) but it comes at a very inconvenient time. Today is Em’s birthday. Friday, we have a party for somewhere between five and a dozen kids. We invited nine, but a couple have asked if they can bring siblings. Nobody else has responded. The kids are not big with the RSVPs. So I had been cleaning earlier in the week and planned to keep it up this week. Instead I’m totally exhausted from lack of sleep and my temperature is stubbornly parked at about 100F.

I called someone to come help with the cleaning tomorrow. If I’m feeling better, that’ll mean I can focus on de-cluttering while she gives the place some spit and polish. If I’m not feeling better, a lot of stuff is going to get shoved into the bedroom. Either way, I still have to do the basics, like pick up a pinata and figure out how we’re going to transport everyone if all twelve kids show up.

At least by Friday I should no longer be contagious.

Oh dear, did another day go by with no post? Shall I post some random content, like How To Put On A Sports Bra Roger Ebert does tweet some interesting stuff.

A followup to “my baby my baby, she’s so big!” from the other day. Em had a routine doctor’s appointment today, and she’s in the 75th percentile for both height and weight. However, the doc predicts she’ll probably top out at about 5’6″, maybe a little taller, so probably she won’t be the Glamazon that always seems possible when she’s outgrown yet another set of clothes. Also, the doc thinks her feet are nearly done growing, so she probably won’t inherit her father’s size 15 clodhoppers.

So, all things being equal, she probably won’t be shopping in either the petites or the big’n’tall sections of the store. That’ll make life easier, at least.

Em was very brave at the doctor’s office. She had to get two vaccinations, which she absolutely hates. We practiced, and she told me on the way over, “I am not going to cry or scream.” I wasn’t going to hold her to that. Her terror is very real. But she was holding it together very well until they also said they were going to do a finger prick. I hadn’t prepared her for that. But you know, she still kept it together. She was very, very nervous, but she didn’t cry or scream. I was extremely proud.

She got a lollipop from the doctor and decided to keep it until after school. She put it in the pocket of her skirt and said she was going to show it to her friends. Unfortunately, after school I did a laundry with that same skirt. By the time Em realized what had happened, all we found among the laundry was an empty wrapper and a stick. Em hadn’t had a very good day that day, and this was kind of the capper.

Did I mention how good and brave she had been? She really did deserve a reward. After my husband got home, I went back to the doctor’s office and begged another lollipop, same flavor. Em was very pleased, and therefore I was pleased too.

My kid’s a big girl, but she’s still a kid. And I’m glad.

My daughter takes after my husband in many ways. If you saw a picture of them both as children, you might think they were twins. She’s got his blue eyes and his big feet. She’s also got his height.

All grown up now, my husband is 6’2″. For you non-Americans, that’s about 1.88 meters. At Girl Scouts last night, in a group of girls exactly her age, Em was easily the tallest by a couple of inches. It’s beginning to present some challenges.

This past weekend, I got her a new outfit for Spring – a pair of pedal pushers (pants coming just past the knee) and a short-sleeved shirt. I got the biggest size you can usually get in children’s sizes – size 14. She just tried the outfit on, and the pants are too snug. The shirt, she can get by in, but the pants, no way.

At age 10, my daughter has moved up to “Misses” sizes. I calculate she’ll be about a size 2. I think. I’m not that clear on how one figures these things out.

I am so not ready for her to be shopping in the grownups’ sections. More to the point, I’m not ready for her to grow up. But somehow, it keeps happening all the same.

I should have married a short man.

I had a meeting with Em’s “special area” teacher this morning. It was a regularly scheduled meeting, just to talk about Em a little bit and get the ball rolling for her re-evaluation, which is standard moving into the 6th grade.

When I arrived, Em’s class happened to be in the hall near the lobby. Her friends were happy to see me (you may recall that I knitted little purses for them) and Em waved as well. I greeted her and she said, “I will try to do better in math.” I told her I was happy to hear that and proud of her for trying, and that I was going to meet with her special area teacher.

Turns out she had a bad morning in math, upset because she couldn’t perfectly draw the rectangles they were dividing into fractions. I guess she thought I’d been called up to the school because of it. Poor kiddo. Victim of a coincidence. Hope it doesn’t mess up her day.

ETA: I did leave a little “I <3 U" note on her desk, which I hope will brighten her day.