I washed blankets in preparation for giving them to the homeless. I figure they deserve clean as a starting point. I also sprayed another gallon in the front yard and worked on the blog.
I had an insight into what might be causing K.'s problems in math. When I saw her this morning, I asked her if she was always afraid that she would make a mistake. She nodded yes, enthusiastically. I started with the visualization exercises, which I use to help reduce fear. Loving parents who spend hours helping their children often make the situation worse. They're scared about their children's plight; they don't know how to fix it and communicate their fear to their children.
On the other hand, it does not take parental fear to induce fear in a child that finds their performance behind their classmates. I believe it is a normal response, although dysfunctional in this day age. It was a functional response in other times of human history.
After we did the exercise, K. performed simple addition problems with much greater ease. I believe what her fear of making a mistake made her doubt whatever her mind suggested. I told her that I would rather deal with her mind's errors than the mistake she made because she didn't trust the answer it gave her. Her 'real' mistakes would provide me with information about her problem, and I would have something to work with. The concocted mistakes gave me no helpful information.
Then I worked with M. in Mrs. D.'s class. He is struggling. He thinks he is improving. My guess is he is, but they are only small increments. I addressed his problems with b/d confusion. He responded as if I gave him the keys to the kingdom. Could his reading be delayed because he was overly afraid of making an error reading these letters? We'll see if it holds.
I had to leave early today because I had a haircut appointment at two. Randee gave me another fantastic haircut. I received compliments the moment I walked out of the door. I was exhausted when I arrived at the Salon. I was going to stop at Costco on the way home to pick up more blueberries and vinegar. Instead, I headed straight home for a nap. I woke up after an hour and a half. Now that's a short nap for me.
When I did the before-bed walk with Elsa, I didn't secure her harness correctly. It had been twisted as I put it on, and I couldn't tighten it properly. When she pulled back, saying she wanted to go home and I pulled in the other direction, she slipped right out of the leash. Years ago, someone told me what to do when a dog escapes like that. First, do not chase them. No, no, no. Instead, walk away dancing, saying goodbye. Make it look like you're having a great time. Too bad for them. They will be by your side in one hot second.
My first experience with this was with Chantey. I assumed she would never leave my side, but one day when she was off-leash at the bottom of the driveway, she took off. We lived on one of the main streets in Princeton with heavy traffic. I started running after her. I soon realized that I could chase her into the street. I had just as much chance of her surviving if I left her to her own devices as I did chasing her, maybe better. I turned and walked home, knowing there was nothing I could do. She was at my side immediately. She thought my chasing her was a game. Once I signaled the game was over, she had no reason to run away.
On another occasion, Peaches slipped out the front door when Mike's sister was visiting. She started chasing her. I told her no and started dancing my way to the gate to the backyard, saying," Goodbye, Peaches." She followed me as if I was the Pied Piper of Hamlin.
Musings:
Again on religious belief: The father of a friend of mine belonged to some protestant church that believed that anyone who wasn't a member went to hell. I am at a complete loss to understand why someone would embrace a belief, a god, who would send their parents, their children, and grandchildren all to hell. Why would someone choose to be a member of such an exclusive club?
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