Just got back....

...from a long weekend in England. More to follow soon!

V-Grrrl

Walking with my camera: Part II

You can check out the some of my favorite scenes from my morning walk with my camera in the Photo Album located in the navigation bar under The Sides.

The cottage with all the flowers is my favorite house in the neighborhood. Geraniums in the window boxes, begonias in the garden, a border of lavender, lovely roses, and climbing vines that frame the windows and garage door completely charm me. You can't see in the picture, but the windows are stained glass, and the front door is narrow.

 I love the white chicken coop with the blue-green paint peeling off the doors. There are chickens in the area but I can't ever get close enough to get them in my pictures.

 There are "secret" gardens in small courtyards off the main street, often these are paved areas between the house and the garage or between a barn and a commercial building. The past and the present share space--agriculture and commerce are side by side.

Roadside shrines are common here. I'm curious about who builds them and who tends them.  The ones in my photo album are located near bus stops. The smaller of the two is devoted to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The other one is to Mary--and there are always flowers on the small altar inside. I've never tried the door to see if it opens....

October 5, 2006

Walking with my camera

I’ve lived in Belgium 18 months and only recently started walking with my camera. Like any good tourist, I’ve photographed the famous sights and settings of the places I’ve visited across Europe, but until recently, I hadn’t carried my camera along as I’ve walked to catch a bus, strolled through my neighborhood, or run errands in my small village near Brussels.

As I hit the midpoint of our three year stay here, I realized how much I wanted to capture scenes from my daily life. In the past my inner perfectionist would flatten my photographic ambitions by harping that the light wasn’t right, the sky was too white, the composition was boring, those wires would ruin the photo, the angle isn’t the best etc. Happily, my inner creative muse finally succeeded in drowning out my critics and insisting that imperfect photos were better than no photos at all and would put me on the path to improving my skills.

So after my children boarded the bus recently, I took my camera on a walk through local terrain. With my sights set on photo-taking, I saw so much more: the old white chicken coop with the turquoise blue paint peeling off the doors, a little cobblestone courtyard between an old barn and a house sporting a lovely potted garden, a door framed by climbing ivy, a pink house with bright yellow curtains sporting lime green polka dots at the kitchen window, the curve of the road as it winds downhill through the village and the curve of the planted beds on the corners. The hard part wasn’t finding interesting things to photograph but having the courage to dare to point my camera at people’s private property, to dare to be conspicuous!

Since moving to Belgium, I’ve been almost absurdly conscious of trying to blend into my environment, not attract undue attention, not risk offending anyone in any way. I’m acutely aware that I hail from a country that has a reputation for boorish behavior and a foreign policy that is scorned by most of Europe. I watch what I wear, how and when I eat, the volume of my voice when I talk in public, the way I interact with shopkeepers and natives. I am more like a very well behaved guest than a resident at home in her community.

Walking with my camera is teaching me to step out of the shadows literally and figuratively, to accept who I am and where I am. The photos I’m collecting will remind me not just of a place I’ve loved but the moment I felt at home enough to claim it as my own and risk being noticed, imperfections and all.

October 4, 2006

Copyright 2006 Veronica McCabe Deschambault. All rights reserved.

(Photo Album in the navigation bar to your right. More photos will be added soon.)

Round and round

Another four hour marathon trying to get my son through his homework. His sister was at Brownies and then went on to soccer after dinner, the house was quiet and free of distractions, and he was getting his homework done at a glacial pace. Or should I say “not getting it done” at glacial pace? Both are true.

I vacillate between thinking his behavior is his choice and wondering whether he really can’t focus. On his own, at home, he will often conceive of and execute detailed step by step projects, but at school this year he’s perpetually disengaged. Even if I’m packing his backpack for him, tracking his assignments, setting a study schedule, and sitting at the table with him, he cannot get a single day’s work done on time. I haven’t felt this strung out and frustrated since he was a toddler and his sister was a baby, and I know it hasn't been easy for him either.

We’d told ourselves we wouldn’t have him tested until he displayed attention-deficit symptoms for six months, but I don’t think we can wait that long. He’s not getting better. Any improvements in his grades are entirely from our efforts, not his. I can’t follow my son through life organizing his stuff, sharpening his pencils, and babysitting him so that he’ll do the work nearly every other kid in his class does on their own.

From what I’ve read, ADHD has a strong genetic component—and this makes me laugh. God has a sense of humor giving us a child who can't/won't stay on track because we are seriously anal retentive parents. In school,  I worked hard, did well, and was always on top of things. I was the annoying nerd who finished her papers the day before they were due. My husband, who grew up around the world attending various types of schools, struggled in college but earned an engineering degree. He has amazing organizational skills, is more attentive to detail than Martha Stewart, and multi-tasks like nobody’s business.

No surprise then that we have been meticulous parents, trying to do everything right. I charted everything I ate during pregnancy, nursed my son until he was over a year old, took classes in child development, fed him organic food, taught him to love books, provided a life completely free of TV or computer games, and waited until he turned six to send him to kindergarten.

While there were occasional rough patches in school, none were long or alarming. Quiet and well behaved, my son normally operated under the teacher’s radar. He went to a private school that was very structured and traditional.  But in fourth grade, his first full school year here in Belgium, he started to slide. His grades fell even as his reading scores put him on the high school level. The gap between his report card grades and his standardized test scores widened. His desk was immediately recognizable in the classroom because it was a MESS. I wondered what was going on: Was it the overcrowded classroom? His instructor’s teaching style? Laziness? Lack of maturity? The more dynamic and less structured school environment?

Whatever the cause of last year’s difficulties, I can’t deny that even with a different teacher and different classroom, we’re worse off than ever before. Sure he is smart, intuitive and creative, but apparently he cannot or will not keep up with his classmates. Day after day after day, he fails to record his assignments, bring home what he needs, or explain what he did in class. Homework normally takes hours—partly because he’s protesting having to do it, partly because everything he was supposed to complete in class comes home with him too.

His teacher tells me he is not disruptive but spends his time daydreaming or reading during class. When I question him about it, sometimes he says he’s bored in school and “there’s too much talking and not enough doing,” sometimes he says he just can’t concentrate, sometimes he tells me what he’s taught is “pointless” or “baby stuff” he knows already (though he doesn’t demonstrate he knows it), sometimes he's distracted by a book he’s reading or game he’s been playing and can’t get it out of his mind and focus on the task at hand.

What I can’t get out of my mind is that no matter how smart and creative you are, no matter what path you choose to follow, you have to be able to stay on task and manage your life to survive. Maybe he’s not ADHD, maybe he has some other problem. Maybe, God help us, he’s just hormonal. It would be nice to know.

October 3, 2006

Copyright 2006 Veronica McCabe Deschambault. All rights reserved.

Scenes from a morning walk

Last week I took my camera with me as I walked through my village here in Belgium. The light wasn't the best, and some of my photos didn't come out, but I did get some pics that show glimpses into people's lives  from the sidewalk. I expecially love all the old brick barns and chicken coops. You can check out my pictures in the Photo Album on the naviagaton bar to your right.

October 2, 2006

Just what I needed

After a month that included major episodes of heart arrhythmia, lots of medical testing, the discovery of a new heart defect, and multiple calls and meetings with my son's teacher, vice principal, and principal, September managed to end on a high note.

Wordgirl at Half of the Sky awarded "Ten Reasons for My Son's School Behavior" a Perfect Post Award for September.

Now if I can just figure out how to insert the Perfect Post button....

Got it!  October is off to a great start.

Confessions of a Crybaby

I logged on to CNN this morning and burst into tears when I read the news. I quickly switched to what I thought would be lighter fare in the blogosphere,  and I cried over Amber’s post about body image, and Arabella’s post about her parents, and the trials Mama Tulip is facing right now. Oh sheesh. Clcking over to the daily comic pages looking for a laugh, I started sobbing over the story line in For Better or For Worse.

The mail brought a spiritual card from my big brother offering prayers and  encouragement as I face some health issues. It made me cry.

As I was preparing to make E-Grrrl’s birthday cake, my heart went out of rhythm, which upset me and, you guessed it, I cried again.

I’d forgotten I could be like this.

For most of the past two and a half years, I’ve taken a little blue pill each day that softened the raw edges of my emotions. During the summer, I scaled back to half a pill and with my doctor’s encouragement, tapered off that over the last month. No more blue pills.

This weekend the double whammy of being bitch-slapped by hormones and not enough sleep  has reduced me to a simpering mess. At this point,  I don't think I could survive a Disney movie or a Hallmark commercial.

All I can say is that it’s not easy being a natural woman.

September 30 2006

Guess who's coming for dinner?

I was in the middle of cooking some chicken breasts in a skillet, when the phone rang.  I was talking to E  when I heard the kids barge into the house from outside yelling, "Mama, Mama!" Their voices had a tone of excitement that meant I was either going to get very good news--or very bad news.

I turned with trepidation and was greeted by my 11-year-old son, Mr. A, holding a hedgehog in a net. My daughter E-Grrrl's words tumbled out as she told me how her brother had rescued the hedgehog from the road using his minnow net. It had been in imminent danger of being hit by a neighbor's car.

"Isn't he cute?"

And I must admit he was the cutest, most docile "wild" thing I'd seen. He even let the kids hold him, and we invited the neighborhood children over to see him. The highlight came when he walked across the patio and burrowed into one of E-Grrrl's clogs.

With all the excitement here at Chez V, I overcooked the chicken--but I got some decent photos. Enjoy--you can view them in my photo album in the navigation bar to your right.

September 28, 2006

A special dedication

Dedicated to all those parents and teachers mightily trying to deal with the kids in their lives. Remember, for every problem there is a humorous solution! I bring you: 

Ten Reasons for My Son's School Behavior:

1.     We’ve consulted our Shaman and agree with him that our son has too much Fire and Wind in his aura and not enough Earth. We’re having him sleep outside and adding iron to his diet to help him become more grounded. Can he sit under a tree during math?

2.     Our macrobiotic nutrition counselor has detected an imbalance in his Yin and Yang. She recommends more brown rice (short grain, not long grain!), no fruit, and less acidic foods in his diet.  Please notify the cafeteria.

 3.     We believe the reason our son doesn’t function well in the classroom is because he is the reincarnation of the Buddha. He is not in fact “daydreaming” when he stares off into space and ignores you, he is meditating and cleansing his mind of all you are trying to shove into his head. Don’t be offended—he cleanses his mind of what we tell him too! It’s not easy being The One—especially in Northern Europe where so few are traveling the Lotus Way .

4.     We’ve evaluated the classroom and found the feng shui to be nightmarish. All that blocked energy—there is no flow! No wonder he’s not doing his schoolwork. I think school performance would be enhanced if his desk was turned to the northwest, the shades were raised, the clock moved to the opposite wall, mirrors strategically placed behind the teacher's desk, and some plants added to the back of the room. We are very concerned about all the damp energy emanating from the sink. Can that be taken out? You might also consider adding windchimes above the door. Ding a ling!

5.     We practice acupuncture and know that a few needles inserted into his temples during third period will help him survive language arts. Can the school nurse help us with this? Of course we’d supply the needles—we don’t expect special treatment from the school, though I suppose we're entitled under the Americans with Disabilities Act.  I'm just sayin...

6.     My chiropractor says my son is maladjusted—but not in the way you think. His problem is concentrated at C3 and a few months of appointments should correct his neurological disturbances. He’s just having a little midbrain spasm right now--bear with us.

7.     This is all diet related! After extensive testing, we’ve discovered he reacts to one of the sub-proteins in his morning oatmeal, and this is the root cause of his hatred of worksheets. You’ll be glad to know we’re switching to grits and you should see an immediate improvement!

8.     We didn’t make it to Mecca this year and our cleric was kidnapped by insurgents. I can see the effect of this on my darling boy. Please know his behavior is not jihad against the forces of structured education, but just a bump on the road to lasting peace. Trust us, he loves totalitarian rule!

9.    We’ve consulted our pastor and he thinks God is punishing you by placing our renegade son in your care. We are all praying for you, that you’ll see your faults, confess your sins, accept Jesus as your personal Savior and accept my son as the Cross you must bear on your way to heaven. Shall we bow our heads and pray?

10.   His father and I have carefully reviewed our sons’ psychological test results and his personal history, and we don’t believe he has ADHD. Y’all, the ugly truth is that he’s just a part-time Pain in the Ass (a PITA!), and we’re thinking if you take a daily dose of Zoloft, you’ll be able to deal with it, though Valium might work better for some and estrogen-replacement therapy might be just the thing for others. Consult your doctors. Remember y’all, for every problem, there is a pharmaceutical solution!

Copyright 2006 Veronica McCabe Deschambault. All rights reserved. You may link to this entry or e-mail it to someone directly from this site by clicking Post Comment below. Thank you!

September 27, 2006

It's never quiet on the homefront...

The latest from the parenting files:

Right before lunch, I got a call from the vice principal at school--Mr. A had been sent to the office TWICE today.

Reason for the first trip: on the playground at morning recess, he and four other boys were caught preparing to go dumpster diving to collect materials to build a robot. Yes, I know this is disgusting and dangerous but it is so like my son, whose motto should be "I. Must. Build. Or. I. Will. Die." This is what I get for encouraging his creativity and allowing him to drag potential building materials home on "big trash" day in our neighborhood. Of course, if he flunks out of elementary school, the dumpster diving skills may come in real handy.

He and the other boys were sent to the office by the recess monitor and given lunch detention. Then before he even serves his lunch detention, he gets sent to the office by his teacher for CLIMBING THE WALLS in the boys' bathroom. No explanation why, not that there is any reasonable explanation for climbing the walls in the bathroom, unless he was planning on diving into the toilet. Really, if you're a child who considers dumpster diving, how much grosser is toilet diving?

When the vice principal told me about the evil plans to build a robot, my first impulse was to laud the kids' teamwork and creativity, but I stopped myself from laughing and assumed the proper "concerned parent" voice. Secretly I'm thinking letting them see what's in a dumpster would better deter further dumpster adventures than detention. But hey, I'm sure that's not allowed.

After the bathroom incident, the vice principal puts my son on the phone to talk to me. My sage advice: when you are on the playground, use the jungle gym EQUIPMENT for exercise and climbing and get that out of your system, and save robot building for home where we have lots of (clean) materials to work with.

He spent all afternoon in detention, and then we got a call from his teacher suggesting we all get together to explore the idea that maybe the Boy Genius/Homework Dropout has ADD. Sigh.

I considered this possibility last year and researched it fairly extensively. While I felt he had some of the symptoms some of the time, the only problem we had all of the time was his complete lack of organizational skills. Maybe his ADD is ADD and can't stay on task! Ha, ha, ha. The disorder within the disorder.

Right now it is very hard to keep him focused, but next quarter he may come home and do everything on his own. That's been the pattern the last year or so--a few months "on" and a few months "off."  Anyway, I welcome the opportunity to get a professional and objective opinion on his behavior and have some testing done, though I wonder who is available and qualified to do it here in Belgium where I think labeling kids ADD or ADHD isn’t common. I also wonder how his school, which is  small, will be able to accommodate his needs.  I wouldn't want to resort to medication if changes in his learning environment would help him succeed.

As my mom would say, one day at a time. We'll see where this journey takes us.

September 26, 2006