Thursday, April 13, 2023

 Thursday, April 13, 2023

     I woke up early, before my 5:30 alarm, with plans to get up at six am. We had driveway yoga today. I had no need to get out of bed. I wasn't taking Elsa on a morning walk. My right calf had seized up. It hurt more than my foot. Scott was up early, too, getting ready for yoga. I told him about my problem with my calf and that I thought it resulted from changing my gait. He told me a funny story. When he was young, he walked up a hill backward while talking to his girlfriend and her mother. The following day, he couldn't get out of bed because his legs hurt so much. His muscles had seized up.

  I didn't apply tea tree oil to Elsa this morning, but I did throw a treat out the doggie door. She went after it but didn't pee. I said, "You have to pee." She went out again, for the first time I've seen her do it without a treat. She still didn't pee. 

 Yvette, Scott, and I were ready for yoga before seven. Was Casey coming? He usually arrived early and wasn't there yet. Then, he showed up. He had stopped off at Starbucks. It was a great session. Scott and I did it while sitting on chairs because of body problems.

  For the first time since Mike died, I was up-to-date on my updates. This was a new experience. I didn't get much else done, and I felt at a loss. Thank God I have this activity. If I didn't, I would always feel lost.

   I gave Elsa a bath—yay for me! However, I should do this more often. I discovered her ears were filthy again. I kiss her a lot, feed her twice daily, and give her a dental chew every night around eight p.m. However, I should bathe or clean her ears more often.

   First-grade Steven's mother called around three thirty. He had been to his math tutor and then went out for a rainbow smoothie. He listed the colors, and those are the words we used. He voiced objection to the session a few times; he didn't want to do it. Because I only do a few minutes each day and don't push him to "pay attention," I have overcome his resistance so far. Breaking down the word orange into its phonemic units was a surprise. What I knew of decoding the letters conflicted with the actual sounds. You want irregular; you got it with this word. One of the reasons my pronunciation contradicts the spelling is because I say the word with an NYC accent. If I say it with a Middle American one, it's more consistent. At one point, Steven asked if we could switch to Facetime. He wanted to see what my mouth did as I formed the letters. He may not have been conscious of his actions, but this was fantastic.

  Steven's mom told me she told his teacher what I was doing. She showed interest. Steven's mom asked me what she could share with her. I told her my video, my email, and my telephone number. She is the fourth teacher to show interest in my work.

   So far, only one has spoken to me directly, and she's a friend of mine. She has extensive training in phonics; she is Orton Gillingham certified. The other day, I asked her if she knew what a phoneme was. She understood it through the lens of her phonics training, but that was it. This limited understanding limits teachers' ability to effectively teach phonemic awareness. I have watched some YouTube videos on phonemics. None of them capture the whole meaning. The videos are presented by teachers who don't fully understand what phonemes are or by linguists who can't talk about them from a teacher's perspective. I want to be a crossover representative.

  A teacher I worked with at Licking Heights gave me an incredible compliment. She said I  explained the children to the teachers and could explain things to children that no one else could.

  Steven's mom and I also talked about his speech problem. She also discussed this with his teacher. The teacher thought a quick visit with the speech therapist might be called for, but she didn't think he needed one-on-one sessions. I got all worked up about giving him individual speech sessions. I thought they would be counterproductive.  

Unfortunately, I get worked up when people don't see it my way. I have invested much of my life's energy in developing my ideas. Reading Time of the Magicians gives me some comfort. I read about Wittgenstein's frustration in getting anyone to listen and understand his ideas. I know exactly how he felt.

  I talked briefly with Steven's mom after the session. She said he has problems paying attention. That's his problem at school. I guessed that. He is immature. I don't push him to sit still and "pay attention" because it will push him to pay less attention. Teaching him to control himself and focus is a lesson for another day.

  I had a scheduled session with KPS. She was a no-show, and I couldn't reach her grandmother. I texted her, saying I assumed we would not meet today, and went about my business. She called later in the day to apologize. She's an accountant; this is her busy season. She is getting frantic last-minute phone calls. KPS and I will meet on Sunday.

      I took a bag of plant waste to the composting bin and walked over to my neighbor's house. Scott told me he heard a huge crash coming from there yesterday. Peter knocked down the portico at the front of his house to build a larger covered space where he could park cars while he worked on them, cleaning and doing oil changes. Scott had been over earlier in the day to offer Peter advice. Scott did construction work. He went over to consult with Peter, who appreciated Scott's suggestions. I reminded him that Scott was happy to help that way and wasn't asking for money. Scott had been impressed with how caring Mei and Peter were of me when I fell. He is responding to that. Although I suspect Scott loves to help people in general and doesn't need much of an excuse.

   The topic on Hidden Brain tonight was people who claim victimhood to gain an advantage. They were talking about people who scam others for money. They actually lie. One woman claimed to be a cancer patient to collect money on a GoFundMe site. I am more interested in people who claim victim status to secure the moral high ground. It's a version of King of the Hill. "I'm the most injured; therefore, I am the purer. I am the victim; you are the villain." Whole groups do that. "We are good, with a few exceptions; you are bad, with a few exceptions. Everything we did that could be classified as bad can be justified. Everything you did or do that is bad is just plain evil because you are evil. I never do anything bad."

  This syndrome is a particular bug-a-boo for me because my mother did that. She couldn't bear to be seen as in the wrong. I told her what she was doing hurt me. She turned that on me. She argued she was not hurting me; I only said that to hurt her. It was crazy-making.