Re-Learning Letter Sounds: The Almost Impossible Mountain Climb to American Sign Language

Over the last several months, I discovered that I do not have a letter-symbol-sound understanding. That is confusing, so allow me to try explaining another way. I do not necessarily recognize letters, which makes it difficult to teach the letter sounds. I discovered this while sitting in my literacy class. The teacher would say a sound and I would actually see an image – not a letter.

I then spent some time attempting to figure out what I was going to do to develop my special education skills. Teaching phonics is a key element of my job.

Like most days, I tried to paint. It was helpful in the fact that it allowed me to work through my feelings, but I did not miraculously find an answer – or maybe I did. Just after I painted my last piece, I remembered something that happened to me in the 4th grade. At that time, I joined City Wide Choir. I was struggling to really sing out and speak up for and myself. Mr. A., my teacher at that time, taught us how to sign our names. Mr. A. would play a note on the piano, sign it, and then have us sing it.

With the memory fresh in my head I signed, “My name is Rhonda.” Not fast – I am sure I made some big errors, but it was easier for me to use my hands then it was for me to use my voice.

I set out to try it in my class. I decided to use a sign, speak the sound, say the picture on the card, and finally speak the sound to my students. My first day was not miraculous by any means, but it worked. I was able to slow down, match the symbol to the sound and match the sign to the symbol.

Since, I have been taking a little time each week to dedicate to watching sign language (ASL specifically). I can state here and now that I have so much respect for the deaf/hearing impaired community. I do NOT say that as hero worship. I say that with the understanding that I wish I had been taught to sign earlier in my life. The body is so interesting. I used to move my hands without mission or purpose. Signing makes me feel like my hands have a purpose. And I appreciate the fact that there are not so many words. Most of my life English has been a challenge. I stumble over words, phrases, rules, sounds, and letters. I could cry right now – I just feel like I missed out on so much.

I have no idea if there is any research into teaching individuals with autism sign language in addition to their own native language. I would love to find out.

In the middle of full time work and full time school, I have realized that I do not have enough hours in my day to devote to learning sign the right way, but I at least plan to try. Now, I plan to put out a challenge to any reader that I may have, IF you have any resources that you would like to share – PLEASE DO! I am open.

Looking back at the title of this article, I would like to explain why I call this the almost impossible climb to American Sign Language. I only say this because it is a great challenge for me to force myself to move beyond finger signing. To date, I have never been able to learn another language other than English. My fear with sign language is that I might mess up and say the wrong thing and completely offend another person. I have some interesting hand to eye coordination issues that sometimes impacts me when I do things like walk (this might look like me trying to put the same foot forward twice – forcing me to trip – it also impacts me in other ways as well) and point or do anything at the same time. I could do each lesson and finger sign, but then what am I teaching myself??? How am I growing my students??? I want to show my children that having ASD and learning disabilities may present challenges, but with the right supports they can build new skills and become stronger people.

It is my hope to become the best special education teacher I can be. I hope that ASL might help me. I thank you all so much for your endearing support. May we all continue

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Speaking Up, Speaking Out, and Near Misses

Last night I had the opportunity to speak at a charity event for an inner city youth program here in my local area. It was an honor to be invited. I shared the stage with some truly beautiful individuals.

I began the evening with a slight bit of angst. Just after getting ready for the dinner, I received a call that my son was “missing”. Those are words no parent wants to hear, right?

Right!

So, let me take you back a few steps and explain. My son is about to hit 14 years old. He has a high IQ and Autism Spectrum Disorder. For this reason, we have chosen NOT to have him ride on the bus alone. Not because he is incapable, but, because sometimes he makes choices that sometimes difficult for me to understand.

That said, yesterday, I was getting ready. I had my simple black dress, pearls, and high heels on when my husband called to ask me if I knew where my son was. My husband was picking him up that day and I had requested that my son wait for him just in front of the school. Regardless, my heart hit the ground that very moment.

Trying not to panic, I asked my husband to check each of the three buildings that sit on the property where my son goes to school. In all there is a middle school, a technology building, and a high school. This is not a small area. He now has the school searching and the worry is moving from my heart to my head. I knew we needed a plan and we needed one quickly.

My husband begins searching again and I proceed out the door – ready to call the police. Foot on the gas – tears in my eyes – I asked my husband for two things:

  1. Check the park next to the school.
  2. Stop telling me all the possible things that could go wrong.

Just as I turned the car down a major intersection near my son’s school, I heard my husband say, “He is standing on the bleachers looking at me.”

I can honestly say that I felt both anger and relief. As soon as my son was near the phone I demanded to speak to him and I yelled, cried, and apologized all at the same time – thanking God the entire way.

I went to my event – without my speech (I left it in the house when I went screeching towards the school). It was so difficult to formulate great thoughts knowing what happened just before. As I took the stage I realized that this was exactly where I needed to be. Because of circumstances, some poor child did not have the support of parents or loved ones (like my son did).

I found myself imagining what could have happened if my son was alone and left to fend for himself – what if there was no one there to realize he was missing? I think it was that thought alone that pushed me to continue to speak when all I really wanted to do was to come home and hold him in my arms (which I did – as soon as I walked in the door).

My son truly thought that he was going to a place where we could see him better – some place high where we could spot him. He acknowledged passing adults who could help him. He viewed them as busy and did not want to interrupt (we have been teaching him interruption is rude). He chose not to use the phone because he had not been given permission. I think the odd thing about these types of disabilities is that I can fully understand the logic behind his responses as I realize how much work I have to do to help him navigate the world. My son was trying to comply with social norms that are confusing. Just as the students I was speaking for are trying to cope with situations that are confusing, potentially debilitating, and completely out of their own control (just like my sons ASD is out of his control).

I write this today to tell you to speak of for, support, and be an advocate for children who cannot help themselves – even those with families that love them. Don’t just sit on the sidelines. In a blink a life can change – be the change agent.

New News is Good News

It has been a long and interesting week here in my house.  My sons both underwent testing with a specialist in the field of cognitive disabilities.  There are varying reasons why, but the important part was that they both needed answers and this testing was going to provide that.  My oldest was diagnosed ADHD with sensory issues and my youngest was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder and Sensory Processing Disorder. The oldest has additional testing he needs to complete.

I was not sure that I was ready to receive the news myself.  Yes, I have LD, ASD with SPD and I have a daughter with ADHD, SPD, and LD. I even knew my oldest son had LD’s.  Yet, the information impacted my sons and I in a strange way. Allow me to take a step back and tell you all about that day.

Knowing we were going to have the results meeting on this day, I took the liberty of taking the boys out of school. I had no idea that doctor would find anything. I felt that the testing had been stressful and even if nothing was wrong, the boys needed a day off.

We slept in that morning and took our dogs on a long walk. The mood was light. We were laughing and joking.   We mutually decided that we would have breakfast together.

As we loaded into the car, the mood began to change. It was silent. Then out of the blue we found our selves behind an advertisement that read “Stump Removal and Daughter”. We could not figure the sign out – even the picture on the advertisement was odd. And it quickly got us laughing.

I cannot explain how hard it was to point out the ordinary things in life, just as you are driving down to the unknown.  We had breakfast and watched President Obama address the Nation on the monitor in the dinning room. My sons had all these questions about Russia and the Ukraine. It was surreal – watching the news and watching the clock – hearing about this conflict as we had our own internal struggle about our own day.

Finally, it was time. We got to the elevators – walked to the office and I was eventually asked back to hear the results. The doctor and I then broke the news to the boys. My oldest had a few questions. My youngest quietly took it all in.

After we sat in the car for a little while. The boys both felt heavy and finally asked if we could do something fun.  I then drove them to the store, purchased real record players, bought albums, and took each son on a private walk to figure out if they could say the things that they were having trouble saying.

There were the obvious questions. What is this illness? Am I sick? Do I have to take medication? Then there were the other questions. Why me? Did I do something wrong?

Each new day brings more questions, as one might expect. Knowing though has had a great many benefits. It has helped my son to answer questions about themselves that had been unanswered for years. It has allowed my husband and I to take a second look at our children and focus on them over their grades. It has opened conversations at school that are helping our sons to navigate school better because they know what is happening and they are trying to avoid the pitfalls.

Parents as you consider testing, especially if you are worried about the labels that you child could potentially have, my advice to you is to take a deep breath and accept what comes. I only regret waiting this long to do this.  As we step out into the future, I plan to keep you all posted on our progress.

Kind Regards,

Dr. Richmond

Everything you need is at the tip of your fingers: 4 Tips for helping a struggling learner

As a parent with children who struggled with LD, I often felt overwhelmed and undereducated. There was so much to learn about the condition(s) that I was not sure how to help my children on a day-to-day basis.

I was not an expert on reading and writing and I HATED math. The “experts” at the school and even those I looked up online (when I finally got internet access at home) talked about all of these various programs that I could buy into. They all sounded like they could work, but most were expensive and as a full time student, employee, and mother, I had no idea where I would find the time, the energy, or the money that was required for the program to be successful.

Unfortunately, not having the ability or the means to afford programs and not having what I thought was limited time to put those programs into practice, was not going to stop my children from needing the help. I had to get motivated.

So, what does a parent do now? 

Tip 1: Get educated

Use your local library to learn about the learning disability(ies) your child(ren) are dealing with. This will help you to understand what your school and/or teachers are talking about. It will also help you to understand your child(ren)’s behavior. Are you being too harsh? Are you being too easy? Knowing the pertinent facts will help you to navigate behavior appropriately.

Tip: 2: Use simple tools

Parents always ask what the best tools are for teaching children to learn. In my opinion the best tools are a pencil and a piece of paper. I was a parent on a limited income. At my best, I could afford these two materials. At my worst, I could borrow them. They are not phenomenal tools because they are cheap. They are phenomenal tools because they teach skills that all students with LD need. That skill is writing.  I will touch on this subject in another post, but it is very important that children with LDs learn to write – they should also use a computer and type – but writing is vital – don’t fear it and please don’t allow your children to fear it.

Tip 3: Find Books you can read fluently

Having an LD myself meant that the best way to teach my children how to fluently read, was to read to them content that I was able to fluently read aloud. This presented a problem because while I was a good silent reader, I was horrible with reading aloud. Teachers were pressing me to read books that were challenging to my children, but I was growing so embarrassment from my own out loud reading that it made it hard for me to comfortably read to my children.

I happened upon a book called “How Many Spots Does a Leopard Have?” It was a series of small fables with amazing pictures by author Julius Lester (http://members.authorsguild.net/juliuslester/). I read and re-read and re-read this book until I knew it almost word for word. I then read and re-read and re-read the stories in the book to my children. It became a type of bonding tool for us. Every night before bed my children would pick a story from this book and we would all read it together. I cannot express to you how great it is to see my teenagers pick up the book and read it. They smile from ear to ear and I can see the memories flooding back to them.

I had always presumed that I needed to read longer and more dynamic books as my children grew.  It was my assumption that doing that would teach them to do the same. However, reading the stories in this book helped me to discovered that all my children actually needed was to find so much enjoyment in a book that it sparked them to want to read more.  And they did. They were trying to find more books that made them feel as happy as the stories in Mr. Lester’s fables.

Parents you may not be Albert Einstein (I sure am not), but this is something you can do. Find your favorite book. Make special voices. Read by candlelight. Set up pillows on the floor and light your children’s imaginations on fire.

Tip 4: Get creative

What does it mean to be creative when you feel overwhelmed? When I tell people that we worked with my son to write a book, we often hear statements like, “But I am not a writer.” I then laugh and explain that I am not a writer either.

I believe that our modern dictionaries have ruined this term because they have made it appear very simple. Dictionary.dom defines it as:

1. a person engaged in writing books, articles, stories, etc., especially as an occupation or profession; an author or journalist.

2. a clerk, scribe, or the like.

3. a person who commits his or her thoughts, ideas, etc., to writing: an expert letter writer.

4. (in a piece of writing) the author (used as a circumlocution for “I,” “me,” “my,” etc.): The writer wishes to state….

5. a person who writes or is able to write: a writer in script.

Now, this sounds odd to people because I published a few books of poetry. I write a blog. I taught journal writing. I attend school. I write in a journal. Etc. Etc. Etc.

I do those things. But they do not prove that I am a writer. In my opinion, doing those things shows I am practicing writing.

However, writing as a writer is much deeper then that – or it should be. A writer is someone with the skill to not only understand how to use the vernacular, they also understand how not to use it. I am a long way from that space.

As you learn to get creative with your children, don’t compare yourself to other parents or other writers. Make up things with your children and share your ideas (good or bad) with them often.

And remember creativity is not solely defined in writing. Creativity comes from using what you have around you. You can use food, blankets, toys and even dirt to teach. Remember your childhood. Remember writing with your fingers in the mud? Remember recording the clouds as they blew across the sky? Remember seeing the deep green shades of the beautiful green grass? Tag? Hopscotch? All these games are tools that can be used to teach your LD children how to read and write. Look around you and then search inside yourself, the answer is right there with you.

You can do this and you are not alone!

Beginning of the Dark Woods: Not stupid after all!

When teachers dismiss children with learning disabilities

I write this post in dedication to my son, Alexander the Great!

When my son was 8-years-old he experienced a very traumatic event. An educator dismissed him at his school. This educator told our family that we needed to accept that our son “was not going to be able to learn, because her daughter was unable to learn.”  At some point this educator (speaking to another teacher on staff) called our son stupid within earshot of our son. This experience was very damaging to my son.  He had been trying so hard to cope with the all of his problems in school. Besides, he was 8. What she did was like punching him in the face and I had no ice to sooth it.

It was a very difficult situation to navigate as a mother.  I knew my son had this amazing mind, but I was unable to bring it out. If you remember, in an earlier post, I cautioned parents to determine if they SHOULD be the one to educate their child(ren). When my son began showing signs of LD, it was after he taught his 4-year-old brother to read. On his own, he would come home and sit down and teach his brother everything he knew about sounds and letters and phonics. Yeah, he spoke slowly. Not incorrectly. Not incoherently. He just seemed to be at his own pace.

He was not like my daughter; my daughter broke down into tears and cried like I was beating her. He would get distracted, talk to me, daydream, wander the room, distract, evade, and stall. He knew the letters, he knew their sounds, but he could not read without falling asleep, and it just took a long time for him to get a sentence out whether it was speaking to someone or reading aloud.

I noticed that my tone of voice often lead him to frustration. It was not the typical frustration my daughter had expressed. His frustration would lead him to near uncontrollable tears. I tried to use the same tactics I used with my daughter, without any success. We were not good learning partners because he was so much like me that all of our gaps (academically) were in many of the same areas. So, I determined that the best support I could give my son was to support the teachers who were supporting him. We found a tutor at our church, we put him in school and I followed the lead of teachers when it was time to assist with homework. I also began volunteering in his classroom.

One day his teacher asked me to participate in a group reading that included her, my son and me. We each held the same book and my son began reading. What he read did not make sense; it was gibberish. The teacher and I stared at each other and then we asked my son, “What did you just read?”

My son looked down at the book. Placed his finger at the end of the sentence and began to read backward on the page. A few seconds later, he looked up surprised and said, “Oh, I did that wrong.” He then started over reading from the beginning of the sentence.  He continued reading, but struggled all the way through that little book. Each time he started the wrong way, we visibly watched him take a deep breath and try again. He was yawning, tears came to his eyes and he nearly fell asleep as we watched. Talk about a light popping on.

The teacher requested an IEP evaluation and we began planning a strategy on how to help my son. Unfortunately, the school was not so supportive. The special educator (a woman with over 20 years of experience) felt that we were pushing to use resources that the school did not have. She was angry that I had pushed for an IEP. She said that I made my son think he was dyslexic and so he was acting like he was. She even accused him of faking it. It is one thing to read backwards, but he was also “mirror writing”. He had motor issues on one side of his body and he struggled with his speech. By that I mean that it took him a long time to force the sentence out – he would strain to find the right words or any words. These were just a few of the symptoms we had seen.

I like to believe my children are smart, but smart enough to fake this at the age of 8 would have been a stretch.  Similar to my daughter’s situation, the school discounted medical and psychological evaluations.

What stifled our IEP meeting was my son’s performance during the IQ portion of the test. We were informed that my son put his hand in the air and told the psychologist that he was done and started falling asleep. The tester could not rouse him to continue and they felt that my son should have finished the test so that the school could have had a better measurement of his IQ. We asked how long the test was, it was 2 hours long and he was tested in school before lunch. We asked why they did not retest at a better time. Our son was an early riser; he was out of bed and waiting for school by 5 am, which meant that he must have been exhausted by lunchtime. They said that he (my son) would know how to respond if he was given the opportunity to test again. Did I mention that he was 8?

The psychologist who performed the IQ evaluation said, “He performed better on parts of the test then I could have, so he will remember the test and the answers will not be spontaneous.” We countered that my son did not know the correct answers; he might only know what he already answered. Still they would not be moved to help him or to retest his IQ, even though there was over a 29+-point discrepancy between what they could measure of my sons IQ and his actual performance in school. The IEP was refused on the basis that my son was showing progress in class after the teacher and I began working with him on the day we saw him read backwards.

According to the school, he was 2-grade levels behind his classmates, but he had the “possibility” of improving because in the 45 days between our discovery and the reading of the test results, he was able to better perform some tasks in class that he had previously been failing. When we explained that he was spending 3 to 5 hours at home doing homework. They agreed that this was bad and requested that we drop it to 20 minutes only. When his teacher explained that we had tried this and his performance plummeted, the committee shrugged it off. Either we let him only work for 20 min, allow him to  fail and have limited to no progress without additional help or we work with him alone with no assistance from the school. Additionally, my son was NOT allowed to participate in Science clubs or after school academic clubs because he was “not academically ready” for such challenges and being apart of those groups could make it harder for our son to keep up with the other children. What that meant to us was that our son was not going to get help and he was going to be punished for having learning disabilities.

This situation, however, took a drastically different turn when that special educator called my son stupid. I could not resolve it by yelling at her. That would have only served to hurt my son more. But, I was angry. I wrote the principal and the superintendent of my district. They didn’t do anything about it, from what I saw, but at least it was a start for me.

That evening, my son had a dream. What he described to me was amazing. He said he was an elf and he lived in the forest that was his hair. Because he had thick, beautiful black hair, the forest was called the Dark Woods. In his dream there was a king and queen Sphinx.  Their kingdom had been split in half by a terrible fight. On one half of his head, lived the queen. The queen’s land was surrounded by clear water because the queen believed in justice. My son said that justice was pure because it required the truth. On the other half of his head lived the king. The king’s land was surrounded by blood. The blood represented the strictness and sacrifice of that came from the word of the law. He said that law did not require truth or justice, it only believed in what was written.

In my sons dream he was sent on this heroic journey, by an angel, to bring the two kingdoms back together. It was so profound. I knew I could not let that dream go away. I owed it to him to do something with it.

I expressed to him how proud I was that he shared that dream with me. I grabbed a pencil and a piece of paper and I wrote down his dream. That weekend we decided to turn it into a book. He picked characters, chose their names, decided what they would be like and where they lived. He decided how many chapters would be in each book, how many pages were in each chapter and how much detail he could handle reading at one time. This was important because books that were too thick discouraged him. We had so much fun.  We did not care about typos of form. We tried our best to recreate the plot that our son had described to us.

I printed the book through an on-demand publishing company in order to give him something tangible that he could hold in his hands. This was something that was his. It was something that the teacher could not take away from him. He could see that he was NOT stupid. He had written a book. He was so proud.

Not long after my son was a reader. He may have been a slow reader, but he was a reader nonetheless. I moved my son to another school, in a completely different district. At that school he was placed in programs that pushed him and he was given the opportunity and support that was refused to him by his old school.

I attach a link to the first book in our tiny series. May you enjoy the story that came from a young boy who someone nearly discarded, because she didn’t understand that having an LD does not make you stupid. A person who did not know that having an LD it does not mean you can never learn, and it does not mean that you should be punished and not allowed to participate in programs that other children participate in; a person who ironically took a position to serve people with disabilities.

Every time I write a post and share a part of my personal history I think about this situation. I think about what could have been lost. What if I would have taken that persons advice? What if I would have accepted something that would have damaged my son for the remainder of his life? I pray often that I never fail him in this area.

To every parent who has been through something similar, I say keep pushing forward. Academic potential is a measurement of choice, based on a formula that is standard to only one kind of learner. That school could not measure my son’s potential, because they had no idea how to measure his version of genius. Do not allow your child to be stifled by the crutch of someone else’s potential, rather, allow your child to build their own formula and develop potential of their own.

You can purchase the book here: Purchase a Hard Copy of the book Image

You can even get the book on your Purchase on KINDLE

Until Next Time…

In the beginning, there was the letter “A”

Many moons ago I did what most parents do. I made the choice to start teaching my daughter how to write. I was very excited. I had found this little table and chair set at a yard sale and I had purchased these fancy little pencils with pink and red hearts on them.  I had even lined the paper so it had bold lines for my daughter’s first letters.  I wanted her to feel like I had put some effort into it (too much Mommy pride). See example:

________ 

– – – – – – – – –

________

(Just imagine this with a fantastic letter “A” in the center!)

It was a Saturday afternoon. I never remember what the weather was like. I know the sun was coming through the windows when we started. My daughter had on this red corduroy overall suit with tiny little flowers and a yellow shirt. Her hair was in these rather cute ponytails with balls on the ends.

I grabbed a piece of paper and I wrote a large letter “A” in the center of one of my homemade lines. Kneeling next to my daughter I placed the paper in front of her and said, “We are going to write your name. This is how you write the letter A.” I then showed her how to make the letter using her own hand.

To my utter shock and eventual horror, my daughter began to cry. She pushed the pencil away and tried to get out of her seat. Tears immediately streamed down her little puffy cheeks, her breaths were heaving in and out, and her anger was spiraling out of control.  It was just the letter “A”! I was not making her eat some exotic, creepy looking vegetable. I was not even threatening to take her favorite toy away. It was just the letter “A”.

But, when my daughter reached out and nearly hit me in the face, I had to take a deep breath and give us both a break. I honestly admit that I was heart broken and felt ill-used. I cried. I pouted and I asked myself how I messed up this supposedly fun experience for the both of us. Being a parent is not easy, but failing at the letter “A” is devastating. In that state of mind, it was clear that I was not going to be able to solve our problem that day. I gave in, but I told my kiddo that we were going to start again the next day.

It would take another 2 and a ½ weeks, lots of frustration and a great deal of back and forth before my daughter would write her name for the first time. For the effort she put in, the results were almost circular on the page, as she could not write in a straight line.  In those two weeks I lost more often then I won.

I share this experience, not because every child with a learning disability has these types of struggles. I say it to express how these types of issues can manifest in behavior. My daughter is a sweet, wonderful, talented, and bright young lady. As a child she was polite, calm, and good-nature. She was the kind of kid that was continually laughing…until I placed a pencil in her hand and watched her become a difficult, angry, and aggressive terrorist.

While I like to believe that I do not have to negotiate with terrorists, I had to make a choice. I was either going to negotiate with this terrorist (who happened to be my daughter) or I was going to break her in an effort to teach her this basic and vital skill.

Fortunately for us something happened after that time. We found a compromise. I can’t tell you how that compromise came about. And the honest truth is that a compromise with one kid with an LD may not work for another kid with an LD. I do recall that it was the result of quick thinking. This compromise helped me to see that my daughter was not the terrorist I thought she was and it showed my daughter that I was not the mean person I seemed to be those first two weeks.

The compromise also helped me to see that I was a good teacher for my daughter. This is not always the case. Many parents are unable to teach their own children (I had this struggle with my son – I will share more about that experience at a later date). The things that make a parent and a child alike are often the very things that make them incompatible as learning partners. My daughter and I, while very similar, had the capability to become partners in her learning and our first step towards building a solid partnership came during that compromise.

If you are a parent facing this issue, my first suggestion is to take a deep breath. Remind yourself that writing is a skill and you are not bad for wanting your child to write. Ask yourself if you are the right person to teach your child. This is vital. Your child can learn to love learning or they can learn to hate it, but it begins with a teacher who is stern when they need to be, supportive because they have to be, and easy when it is the right thing to do. If you fear that your frustrations are going to be too difficult for you to control, then you are not the right teacher for your child. Coping with an LD and teaching another to cope with an LD is not simple, easy, or light work. It requires dedication, the ability to work through the tears and a resilience of mind. If I was willing to give up or give in every time my daughter fought me on a lesson, then I was not going to be the right teacher for her.

Once you figure out if you are in fact the right teacher for your child, then I suggest the following:

  1. Take it slow: nothing happens over night. Your child will forget more often then they remember, so give it time.
  2. Use appropriate expectations: Appropriate does not mean low. Set high and quality standards. Work towards those standards in a time period that works with your child’s disabilities. If your child’s attention span is only 15 minutes then do not expect them to be able to accomplish an hours worth of work. As you work within that 15-minute time frame, look for creative ways to stretch that to 20 minutes, then 30 minutes and so forth.
  3. Get Creative: Most children do not learn the same – even though most adults need the same skills to be successful. Search for ways to teach those skills using as many creative methods as you can find.
  4. Great effort requires great rewards: Celebrate the simple. Make a big deal of those milestones. Your child is working overtime to learn – show you appreciate it.
  5. Thank Yourself – Take parenting breaks. Give yourself space and time. The more refreshed you are, the better teacher you will be. But treat yourself as you treat your child – you deserve it.

Until next time.