The Mouse House Building Kit was a success with three of the children, especially with Baz. The photo is of his mouse house maze. He even drew mice to live in the house.
It wasn’t such a hit with my oldest daughter, who was not interested in those textures. So I quickly made her a sensory game with little squeezy scoops and plastic gems in about half my stash of mustard seeds. (If you’ve followed my Accessible Church School adventures or attended my AFCon talk, you’ll know why I have 15 pounds of mustard seeds on hand. If not, it’s a little treat to look forward to/something truly weird to ponder when you have insomnia.)
This game, too, was overwhelming, but it was revelatory. I learned where the attention and integration gap was. When she was too overwhelmed to participate in a well liked texture game and in a well liked task (making lists and check marks to represent the gems), I realized she needed a support bridge to communicate. I got out Bazzy’s old PODD and modeled a word. She took the PODD and used it herself the rest of the session. I was able to come up with a good working plan with the therapist for some comment boards to facilitate communication when my daughter is stressed. This is one of those days when failure is so helpful that it feels like a success.
After all that, I spent some time hanging out with our resident fluffy standard poodle puppy, Doctor Horatio Biscuit. You might think he’s cute –true– but don’t let your guard down. He’s also an infamous pirate of the seven snacks, a sneak thief of trash cans, kid hands, and picnic tables such as the yard and kitchen have never seen before.
I am sorry to tell you that these adorable children were harassed by that self same pirate, who almost got away with a graham cracker and a giant marshmallow and very nearly stole his own cousin’s yogurt.
For this reason, he was banished to his crib till after snack. But his infamy lives on in the song that echoes through the halls and trampolines where those who have survived his cute-pestuous begging play:
Pirates come, and pirates go,
And pirates love Horatio.
Pirates walk on feet and pegs;
Horatio has furry legs.
Horatio, he begs and steals,
He licks his victims’ hands and heels.
He isn’t mean. He’s not irate,
But he’s a fabulous pirate.
The pirates sneak, they make their plan
They respect neither dog nor man
Horatio? He cannot talk,
But pirates love that salty dog.
Till later. Ahoy!
“This is one of those days when failure is so helpful that it feels like a success.” What a gem of a quote!
Amanda – I was going to say the same thing! And that puppy pirate song is excellent fun!
Thanks. Also fun: My three-year-old neice demanding that I sing the Pirate Horatio song again and again as she danced around the puppy. There’s something to be said for mercy in a world where a cousin is willing to dance around a pirate who very nearly stole her yogurt.
You are the kind of homeschool mom I wish I could have been! My baby is 17. I’m almost done. It does me no good to wish something for the past though. Just know, I think you are awesome!
Aw, thank you! That’s very kind. I sometimes think I should make myself be more structured, but writing about it lets me see how thoroughly structured we really are, though not in a conventional way. I hope you have a fruitful completion and leavetaking of homeschool. Knowing that others have stuck with it is very encouraging!
I love what you said about a failure being so helpful it feels like success! It ties in nicely with what I’ve been thinking about today.
I always love seeing what you come up with. Your resources have been a huge help to me over the years. And I love your writing and insights. Thank you!
Cute-pestuous 😀 And yay for learning something new about what your daughter needs — when a “failure” provides such valuable information, it hardly counts as a failure at all!
Oh the pirate song! I think I need to write one of these for our own canine pirate for the children to laugh and sing! As a mom of children with special needs, I am always comforted and inspired by reflection on sensory helps. The lighthearted discovery and perspective that accompanies your words inspires me to keep finding supports for my little ones!
And this–hahaha: If you’ve followed my Accessible Church School adventures or attended my AFCon talk, you’ll know why I have 15 pounds of mustard seeds on hand. If not, it’s a little treat to look forward to/something truly weird to ponder when you have insomnia.
Good to know I have some tools for when insomnia strikes 🙂
Beautiful – thank you!