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Category Archives: Sincerely, Michael
Outstanding… teachers 😲
Our children attend the much sought after Vanguard School, formerly known as Cheyenne Mountain Charter Academy.
Those of you who know us or follow this blog, are aware of the legal battle we are involved in regarding the school’s treatment of, what they consider, “students not in good standing” due to their… disability. Yes, you read that right.
Our 9-year-old, Michael, is a nerd – I say this proudly of course. He loves science. His microscope, petri dishes, and science experiments are his greatest joys.
The other day Michael, took his petri dishes to school because his homeroom teacher said he could bring them to show the class all the bacteria he’s been growing.
On our way to his classroom, another teacher stops him, “What’s that Michael?”
“They’re my petri dishes,” he says proudly showing them off.
“Petri dishes? I’ve never heard of that.”
“You’ve never heard of petri dishes?” he asks.
I’m right behind them and listening in to the conversation. Frankly at this point I am FLOORED by this teacher’s answer.
“No, what are they?” asks the teacher.
“You grow bacteria in them.”
“Oh. Very nice,” she says.
Seriously? SERIOUSLY???? She’s never heard of “petri dish”??? She is a second grade teacher. An “outstanding” one at that according to the school.
The Vanguard School is extremely proud of its school and teachers.
“… I think you’ll be excited about what you find here. …”
No… not when a teacher has never heard of petri dishes. It’s such a BASIC thing to know as a human being, never mind a teacher.
“… So it is at The Vanguard School, where our students, guided by outstanding, dedicated teachers, are earning a reward from which they will reap benefits for a lifetime.”
Guided by outstanding teachers who will benefit children? Not based on experience and certainly not knowledge.
A lesson in current news is certainly in order. Even assuming this “outstanding teacher” does not teach science, there have been enough news stories about Ebola. A petri dish always makes an appearance. Hell, does she know what in vitro fertilization means? There’s a petri dish involved somewhere in there as well.
That’s like a teacher saying she’s never heard of the alphabet before. Good grief.
Assuming you are reading this, and happen… just happen to know about or work at this school, here’s a petri dish.
You’re welcome!
Honesty… Always Best Policy?
Michael is my seven-year-old son who is on the autism spectrum.
A few weeks ago Michael RUNS up to me to give me a hug. I cry out in pain.
“What’s wrong mom?” asks Michael.
“My boobies hurt,” I say.
“Why do your boobies hurt?” asks Michael.
Well shit… that’s what I get for being honest. Now I have to tell him why (Scott and I always said we wouldn’t lie to the boys).
“Well honey, you know how I told you that mamas have eggs? When the egg is not fertilized, there’s no baby, so the egg comes out.”
“I wanna see it,” says Michael excitedly.
“No, you can’t. It’s icky. It looks just like blood.”
“Is it like a dragon egg?”
I laugh, “What am I a dinosaur? No it’s not like a dragon’s egg. You can’t see it.”
I AM aware dinosaurs do not lay dragon eggs; thank you very much.
“Can I see it on your computer?”
“Sure,” I say thinking of YouTube.
Sure enough, a few days later he remembered. We just finished watching an animation of the menstrual cycle. Michael LOVED it.
Why did I ever promise to NEVER lie???
Long Live Mom
To his father’s dismay, Michael likes to watch cooking shows and British comedy.
The other day we were watching Top Chef when I ask Michael “Do you think you might want to be a chef?”
“No, it’s a little disgusting,” he responds. “I still want to be a scientist when I grow up.”
“I’m so proud of you,” I say.
“I hope you’re not going to die soon because I want you to see me be a scientist when I grow up.”
“I’m not going to die. I have a long way to live,” I laugh.
“How much longer?” asks Michael.
“Another 60 years,” I say in a huff.
Don’t tell him I’ll be 100 years old in 60 years, but I have decided that I WILL live that long.
Apples and… Camels
Michael had been causing trouble at school during his afternoon class at recess He was always great in his morning class, and at autism school.
I was so frustrated that this morning I asked him, “Michael, why do you cause trouble in Mrs. Blondin’s class but not in Mrs. Seymour’s class?”
I did not expect his answer, “Because Mrs. Seymour and Mrs. Valenzuela are BEAUTIFUL.”
(Mrs. Valenzuela is also his morning teacher).
I’m thinking… what’s that got to do with the price of eggs?
“Well honey… you don’t listen to me either. What does that mean?”
Michael thinks about this for a second, then digs his way out of it, “Mom, you are beautiful.”
That’s my boy… I think… Certainly better at digging himself out of a hole than his father is.
Feelings
One day, when I picked up the boys from ACI (autism school), we came home on the freeway. As we were going over the Garden of the Gods bridge, there are these deep bumps in the road. Every time we drove over one, we would sort of glide up and down; the boys would say “Whoa!!!”
After about four ‘whoas’ Michael says, “That makes my penis feel salty.”
I was sure I did not hear him right, “What did you say?” I may have choked too.
Sure enough, he says, “That makes my penis feel salty.”
“What do you mean your penis feels salty? How do you know it feels salty?”
Michael is frustrated, “MOM, when we go over the bumps, we go fast and air goes inside my penis and it makes it FEEL salty?”
Whaaaaaat???
I don’t want to know… I don’t want to know… I don’t want t…
Curiosity May Kill the Mother
Michael is very interested in factual, scientific things. He loves to watch open heart surgery on youtube.
His father and I promised we will try to always give the boys truthful answers. We may have done this without realizing the repercussions.
Have any idea where this going? No? Just wait…
When Michael was five he asked me one day, “Mom, how did I get in your tummy before I was born?”
I was not surprised by the question, “Well honey, mama has eggs and papas have seeds. The seed goes inside the egg, the egg hatches, and it makes a baby.”
I did not want to say ‘sperm.’ I was not ready for my, then five year old, to know the term. You may think I explained it to him in a strange way, but it was the best I could do on such short notice.
Michael was satisfied with my answer.
I was, however, praying that he would not ask me HOW the seeds got into mama’s eggs.
Fast forward about a year.
Michael asked me out of the blue, “Mom, how do the seeds get into mama’s tummy to make a baby?”
I was literally thinking, “AAARRRGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!”
I do not even remember what I babbled; but for once, changing the subject and not giving him an answer actually worked.
Michael has not asked the question again, but I dread the day because I know it’s coming. May God help me! (THIS from an agnostic).
Common Sense
Michael had a new book about snakes, lizards, and frogs.
We were reading it when we came across a frog where her babies live inside pouches on her back.
VERY disgusting and freakishly weird. Brrr!
Anyway… as I was reading to Michael, I said, “Eww… this frog has babies living inside her back. That’s disgusting.”
Michael was puzzled, “Why is that disgusting? They’re living in pouches.”
My response was still, “It just looks icky and disgusting. Eww!”
It really was disgustingly sick. Maybe because it is a frog.
Michael then said, “But Mom, I lived in your tummy. Was that disgusting?”
Mom (thinking), ‘Uuuhhhhhh…’
I certainly did not think of that, “Of course it wasn’t disgusting.”
Thank goodness he dropped the subject.
Way to go mom…
Stating the Obvious
Michael used to love to snuggle and sit in my lap.
One day, as Michael was sitting in my lap, he says “Oh, that was a little fart.”
Surprised, I asked, “Did you just fart in my lap?”
“No, I farted in my butt.”
No DUH! MOM!
Mothers Can Do Anything
I made the mistake of giving Michael some Robin’s Eggs candy when he was about three years old.
“Mama, hatch the egg,” he says handing me a Robin’s Egg.
I was suprised. I had been asked to do many things in my lifetime. Hatching an egg has never been one of them.
“It’s candy,” I said laughing.
He clearly thought I was refusing to use my hatching abilities because again he said, more emphatically this time “Mama you hatch it.”
I have done many things for my children; I was not about to attempt to hatch an egg.
Not even a chocolate egg.
Not even for fun.
Though, if I thought I could have been successful, I could have taken out a full page in Ripley’s.
“You sit on it and hatch it,” I said, really not expecting him to do it.
I really should not have been surprised when Michael put the Robin’s Egg candy on the floor and promptly sat on it.
I decided to be a good parent and not tell him he could not hatch an egg either.
Satisfyingly Complicated 