So Word Recall issues are fun times had by many with MS, including yours truly. It goes beyond the typical "the word is right on the tip of my tongue" recall that most people experience. It goes into full on wackiness.
It's kind of like using MS Word translation function. I was writing the newsletter for the PTA at my children's elementary school and they have a large spanish population. I was on a time crunch to get out the newsletter and I didn't have time to get it to a human to translate so I though, "Why not? I can still kind of remember Spanish." (At least enough to get the gist of the newsletter) So I wrote about the School Spirit Store and it translated into "School Liquour Store" but I caught that one so I was able to change the word in the translation. The one I didn't catch was where I wrote that Backyard Burger was going to be selling food at the Back to School party and Translate decided the call the business "Buttyard Burger" Thankfully the Spanish speaking families thought it was HILARIOUS and came out and bought "Buttyard Burger" for dinner. Of course several of the families NEVER let me forget that for the entire time I was PTA president.
So sometimes my word recall problem happens that I get a word in a sentence that wasn't exactly the word I wanted but it had a meaning that was still understandable in context. For example, I told Fynn to put his dirty plate in the washer. He knew I meant DISHwasher not clothes washer but it was still funny. Then there are the completely bizarre word switches...
My first real experience with Word Recall happened about 2 years ago (before diagnosis so I just thought I was out of my mind). Matt had a really bad case of pneumonia that required that I take him to the hospital. I posted on Facebook that he was really sick. The next day at church people asked me what was wrong. I said, "Oh, he has lasagna." I realized that I had said the wrong word so I said,"No, not lasagna! He has lasagna!" For the life of me I COULD NOT say pneumonia.
I have had a couple of other episodes but none as dramatic as the pneumonia/lasagna episode. Until the other night. I walked into the bathroom and there was a cricket on the walk. I yelled and Fynn said "What is it, Mom?!" and I yelled "There's a raccoon on the wall!" Fynn was very scared and then I started laughing. "I meant a cricket." Raccoon? Really?
So the title of this blog came from a comment by Bono in an interview in the early 90s. He sang "I've Got You Under my Skin" with Frank Sinatra on the Duets album. He said that the translation into some asian language was messed up so on the album cover the song was translated as "I've Got You Under My Chicken". Hee hee! Matt and I have laughed about that for years. Who knew it would become such a personal issue?
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Thursday, July 12, 2012
God Of Thunder MD.
Four years ago I experienced optic neuritis in my right eye. I had lost half of my vision and was extremely frightened. My eye doctor sent me to a neurologist (the same one I have now).
I sat in the exam room of the neurologist and my knees were literally shaking. I was terrified. What was happening to me? What was he going to say to me? I was all alone in that tiny room. The walls were covered with plagues guaranteeing me that my doctor was certified and very smart and well equipped to handle my neurological issues.
Every diploma read T. Erik Borresen, T. Erik Borresen, T. Erik Borresen. Hmm...wonder what the "T" stands for? Must be Thomas. I read every framed piece of paper starting in front of me and working my way around the room.
I was on the verge of tears. What was happening to me?! Please God make it alright. I am REALLY scared. Then I turned to my left and read the last diploma...
Thor Erik Borresen.
I laughed. I threw my head back and laughed a great big belly laugh. My doctor's name is Thor. THOR! Seriously? That is SO AWESOME! Thank you God for that; I needed to laugh. The tension in that little room was too much.
Just after my discovery my new doctor entered the room. We talked for a bit and he poked my hands and feet with a pin and asked me to balance on one foot. He asked many questions and listened and answered all of mine. He even laughed when I joked with him.
At that point in my life my MRI came out normal with no sign of MS. Four years later, this past April (2012) I was not as scared to go see him because I had met him, I knew what to expect and I had a pretty good idea that the MRI was going to show us what was happening to me.
I did not change the names in this post to protect anyone because my neurologist ROCKS! Even if his name wasn't Thor (but it is! Isn't that COOL?!) he is the best doc for me. I highly recommend him.
I sat in the exam room of the neurologist and my knees were literally shaking. I was terrified. What was happening to me? What was he going to say to me? I was all alone in that tiny room. The walls were covered with plagues guaranteeing me that my doctor was certified and very smart and well equipped to handle my neurological issues.
Every diploma read T. Erik Borresen, T. Erik Borresen, T. Erik Borresen. Hmm...wonder what the "T" stands for? Must be Thomas. I read every framed piece of paper starting in front of me and working my way around the room.
I was on the verge of tears. What was happening to me?! Please God make it alright. I am REALLY scared. Then I turned to my left and read the last diploma...
Thor Erik Borresen.
I laughed. I threw my head back and laughed a great big belly laugh. My doctor's name is Thor. THOR! Seriously? That is SO AWESOME! Thank you God for that; I needed to laugh. The tension in that little room was too much.
Just after my discovery my new doctor entered the room. We talked for a bit and he poked my hands and feet with a pin and asked me to balance on one foot. He asked many questions and listened and answered all of mine. He even laughed when I joked with him.
At that point in my life my MRI came out normal with no sign of MS. Four years later, this past April (2012) I was not as scared to go see him because I had met him, I knew what to expect and I had a pretty good idea that the MRI was going to show us what was happening to me.
I did not change the names in this post to protect anyone because my neurologist ROCKS! Even if his name wasn't Thor (but it is! Isn't that COOL?!) he is the best doc for me. I highly recommend him.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Long Lost Friend
I woke up this morning at 6:00 am. I just woke up. I laid there for a few minutes and I felt something I haven't felt in a long long time.
Energy.
What in the world? Energy? Like fo' real? I can get up AND shower AND fold sheets from the dryer AND make breakfast? With out stopping? Get out!
I took it slow, not used to this old friend. What has happened in her life since I last saw her? Is she seeing someone? What was the last movie she went to? Is she going to stay around for a while or is she just here for a quick visit?
I had to lay down for a half hour after all the activity. Had a quick dream on the couch that I was yelling "Ooooo! Ooooo!" and woke myself up giggling. I had to ask Fynn if I was making noise and he assured me that I had been completely silent. That was a relief.
So I finished watching the Tour de France (go Team Sky!) and cleaned up around the living room during the commercial breaks. My dear friend was still with me but it was like when you are talking to someone and they aren't really paying attention to you. Her attention was elsewhere but she was still physically there.
The Tour ended with a nail biting finish and then we had lunch. I went to the pool for 45 minutes and I felt like I had a lot of strength.
This is a new world for me. I have often had days where I felt tired or bored and I didn't want to do anything but this is different. This is not that I don't want to do something but that I literally can not get up to do it. There is no fuel in the tank at all. It is sometimes a little frightening.
So this morning when Miss Energy woke me up I took advantage of her visit. I am hoping that she comes to visit me more often. If you see her around town, remind her that I really like her and I miss her a lot.
Energy.
What in the world? Energy? Like fo' real? I can get up AND shower AND fold sheets from the dryer AND make breakfast? With out stopping? Get out!
I took it slow, not used to this old friend. What has happened in her life since I last saw her? Is she seeing someone? What was the last movie she went to? Is she going to stay around for a while or is she just here for a quick visit?
I had to lay down for a half hour after all the activity. Had a quick dream on the couch that I was yelling "Ooooo! Ooooo!" and woke myself up giggling. I had to ask Fynn if I was making noise and he assured me that I had been completely silent. That was a relief.
So I finished watching the Tour de France (go Team Sky!) and cleaned up around the living room during the commercial breaks. My dear friend was still with me but it was like when you are talking to someone and they aren't really paying attention to you. Her attention was elsewhere but she was still physically there.
The Tour ended with a nail biting finish and then we had lunch. I went to the pool for 45 minutes and I felt like I had a lot of strength.
This is a new world for me. I have often had days where I felt tired or bored and I didn't want to do anything but this is different. This is not that I don't want to do something but that I literally can not get up to do it. There is no fuel in the tank at all. It is sometimes a little frightening.
So this morning when Miss Energy woke me up I took advantage of her visit. I am hoping that she comes to visit me more often. If you see her around town, remind her that I really like her and I miss her a lot.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
The Golden Rule
My daughter (12 years old) thinks I am crazy for taking a shower at the YMCA after swimming. I have my own cubical and shower curtain. The water is hot and there is a soap dispenser on the wall (although I bring my own shampoo and face wash). The tiles are clean and so is the grout. What is the problem?
Someone might SEE you naked!
No, Honey, no one is going to see me naked.
Then I COMPLETELY embarrass her by getting dressed in the locker room. I discreetly turn towards the lockers and put on my undies and shorts while wearing my towel and then remove the towel for the upper areas.
MOM! This is NOT EUROPE! Do you think we are in FRANCE or something?
The golden rule applies in the ladies locker room. I can't speak for the men but for the ladies I certainly can.
The Golden Rule: Look onto others as you would have them look onto you.
No one wants to see you naked because they don't want you to see them naked. It is unspoken but TOTALLY understood by the over 20 year olds in the room.
12 year old doesn't get it. Nobody wants to look at your wears. Especially since she has such a great figure. NOBODY wants to see that and then look at themselves in the mirror. Nobody.
Someone might SEE you naked!
No, Honey, no one is going to see me naked.
Then I COMPLETELY embarrass her by getting dressed in the locker room. I discreetly turn towards the lockers and put on my undies and shorts while wearing my towel and then remove the towel for the upper areas.
MOM! This is NOT EUROPE! Do you think we are in FRANCE or something?
The golden rule applies in the ladies locker room. I can't speak for the men but for the ladies I certainly can.
The Golden Rule: Look onto others as you would have them look onto you.
No one wants to see you naked because they don't want you to see them naked. It is unspoken but TOTALLY understood by the over 20 year olds in the room.
12 year old doesn't get it. Nobody wants to look at your wears. Especially since she has such a great figure. NOBODY wants to see that and then look at themselves in the mirror. Nobody.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Wait...why am I writing...SQUIRREL!
Memory lapse is a little joy of MS. Short term (and I mean very short term) memory takes a hit with the lesions in my brain. Matt asked me to get him a snack (he hurt his knee mountain biking the other day and has to walk on crutches). 10 minutes later I was sitting on the couch thinking, "Did Matt ask me to get something for him? Hmmmmm...no I don't think so." Then 30 minutes later he kindly asked me again if I could get him that snack. "OH! That's what you asked me!" Good Grief!
I now have some sympathy for my ADD students. You know the ones; they are telling you about their visit to the zoo and suddenly they say "I think I need a manicure." and then go on about the last time they did their nails and the polish was supposed to be purple with glitter gloss and then it chipped when they were at their brothers soccer game...do you think Germany is going to win their next match? My uncle went to Germany....and on and on.
Sometimes it is as if I blinked a moment too long. I went to Target the other day and I put my wallet in the shopping bag when I was leaving the register. I NEVER do that. I didn't even remember doing it. I got to the gas station and had a panic attack because my wallet was not in my purse. I had Reilly look through the bags and there it was. I could not recall even touching the shopping bag. I had Fynn carry it out to the car. Total blank spot in my brain.
I aso find my attention drifting as well. I will be thinking trough how to accomplish a task - like organizing how and when to get each part of dinner going, and I suddenly find myself thinking about a movie scene that I really like. Then I look around me and realize that I was making dinner.
This could be a good thing if I can use it correctly...I could tell that annoying person in my life just how extremely annoying they are and then "forget". I could rob a bank and then "forget" but then I might also forget where I put the money so that might not work so well. And I don't think a plea of Forgetfulness is a valid defense. I could also forget what I was doing in the middle of the robbery and walk out without the money.
So the next time you ask me to do something and I act like I have NO IDEA what you are talking about you can remind me gently that you asked me. Make sure I write it in the calendar on my phone or on the way cool paper calendar Emily made for me. I do remember to look at that - because that is a habit that I have established.
When school restarts I will look with more understanding upon my weird middle schooler. Ok, that may be going a little too far.
I now have some sympathy for my ADD students. You know the ones; they are telling you about their visit to the zoo and suddenly they say "I think I need a manicure." and then go on about the last time they did their nails and the polish was supposed to be purple with glitter gloss and then it chipped when they were at their brothers soccer game...do you think Germany is going to win their next match? My uncle went to Germany....and on and on.
Sometimes it is as if I blinked a moment too long. I went to Target the other day and I put my wallet in the shopping bag when I was leaving the register. I NEVER do that. I didn't even remember doing it. I got to the gas station and had a panic attack because my wallet was not in my purse. I had Reilly look through the bags and there it was. I could not recall even touching the shopping bag. I had Fynn carry it out to the car. Total blank spot in my brain.
I aso find my attention drifting as well. I will be thinking trough how to accomplish a task - like organizing how and when to get each part of dinner going, and I suddenly find myself thinking about a movie scene that I really like. Then I look around me and realize that I was making dinner.
This could be a good thing if I can use it correctly...I could tell that annoying person in my life just how extremely annoying they are and then "forget". I could rob a bank and then "forget" but then I might also forget where I put the money so that might not work so well. And I don't think a plea of Forgetfulness is a valid defense. I could also forget what I was doing in the middle of the robbery and walk out without the money.
So the next time you ask me to do something and I act like I have NO IDEA what you are talking about you can remind me gently that you asked me. Make sure I write it in the calendar on my phone or on the way cool paper calendar Emily made for me. I do remember to look at that - because that is a habit that I have established.
When school restarts I will look with more understanding upon my weird middle schooler. Ok, that may be going a little too far.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
People Soup for breakfast
So I started swimming. The first day I just used a kick board or did the side stroke. I swam with my 12 year old daughter for about 30 minutes. I discovered that you can not giggle and swim.
There was a Fo Real swimmer in the lane next to us; swim cap, speedo, googles, and a chamois instead of a towel <---DUDE!. He was SERIOUS about swimming. Freestyle up and backstroke back. Non-stop. Cutting through the water like a hot knife through butter or a ravenous toddler through a bowl of dry Cherrios. I was a bit intimadated.
At one point I was kicking with the board near the lane line and Mr. Louganis came unsplashingly by at 30 knots. His wake swamped me and caused me to actually go backwards a little. Then the giggling started and the sinking ensued. He would swim with military precision past me, swamping me and my little kick board, and I would giggle and begin to sink. Lap after lap. So my first go at swimming was not as successful as I had hoped.
Every Saturday my Y offers deep water cardio at 8:30 am. I went. My 12 year old did not want to go because she didn't want to swim with the "old ladies". She also didn't want to get up at 7:30 on a saturday. You've got to have your priorities! It was a great class and I was indeed the youngest person there (40). I was still a bit afraid to swim laps so I came home.
This past thursday my friend Heidi met me at the Y and taught me to backstroke and breast stroke. She gave me great encouragement and confidence. I swam with her for about 30 minutes. It wasn't pretty and it wasn't fast but I did it and I ENJOYED it.
I am not a swimmer. I don't like to go to the pool and here are my main reasons; it's wet, chlorine is stinky and I hate the way it makes my skin feel, I didn't really know how to swim (I am so claustrophobic that I can not put my face in the water to swim freestyle), I am terrified of moving water (tried white water rafting - was thrown out and under two boats - no joy), and wearing a bathing suit is like sitting around in your underwear in front of other people. So being in your undies in "people soup" - aka "the pool" has not been an appealing thing to me since I was about 10 years old.
I know that I need to exercise (high Cholesterol, diabetes, and MS demand that I do). I have enjoyed my time in the water these past three weeks and I actually look forward to it, even plan on what days I can go. Today I did the deep water cardio for an hour and then I swam 150 meters non stop. (ok...I took a 5 minute pee break between the two because holy cow! water makes you have to GO!).
I am planning on swimming 3 days a week during my summer break and then at least 2 days a week during school. I have surprised myself. I like swimming. I may even begin to consider myself a "swimmer".
Look out Mr. Louganis with the chamois instead of a towel, I might swamp you next time we meet!
There was a Fo Real swimmer in the lane next to us; swim cap, speedo, googles, and a chamois instead of a towel <---DUDE!. He was SERIOUS about swimming. Freestyle up and backstroke back. Non-stop. Cutting through the water like a hot knife through butter or a ravenous toddler through a bowl of dry Cherrios. I was a bit intimadated.
At one point I was kicking with the board near the lane line and Mr. Louganis came unsplashingly by at 30 knots. His wake swamped me and caused me to actually go backwards a little. Then the giggling started and the sinking ensued. He would swim with military precision past me, swamping me and my little kick board, and I would giggle and begin to sink. Lap after lap. So my first go at swimming was not as successful as I had hoped.
Every Saturday my Y offers deep water cardio at 8:30 am. I went. My 12 year old did not want to go because she didn't want to swim with the "old ladies". She also didn't want to get up at 7:30 on a saturday. You've got to have your priorities! It was a great class and I was indeed the youngest person there (40). I was still a bit afraid to swim laps so I came home.
This past thursday my friend Heidi met me at the Y and taught me to backstroke and breast stroke. She gave me great encouragement and confidence. I swam with her for about 30 minutes. It wasn't pretty and it wasn't fast but I did it and I ENJOYED it.
I am not a swimmer. I don't like to go to the pool and here are my main reasons; it's wet, chlorine is stinky and I hate the way it makes my skin feel, I didn't really know how to swim (I am so claustrophobic that I can not put my face in the water to swim freestyle), I am terrified of moving water (tried white water rafting - was thrown out and under two boats - no joy), and wearing a bathing suit is like sitting around in your underwear in front of other people. So being in your undies in "people soup" - aka "the pool" has not been an appealing thing to me since I was about 10 years old.
I know that I need to exercise (high Cholesterol, diabetes, and MS demand that I do). I have enjoyed my time in the water these past three weeks and I actually look forward to it, even plan on what days I can go. Today I did the deep water cardio for an hour and then I swam 150 meters non stop. (ok...I took a 5 minute pee break between the two because holy cow! water makes you have to GO!).
I am planning on swimming 3 days a week during my summer break and then at least 2 days a week during school. I have surprised myself. I like swimming. I may even begin to consider myself a "swimmer".
Look out Mr. Louganis with the chamois instead of a towel, I might swamp you next time we meet!
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Brain Damage
Today I felt like talking about the people I manage every week day. I am a Middle School Art Teacher. (a.k.a Creative Cat Herder).
I began my teaching career in 1995 at a private High School in Charlotte and I loved it. The kids were amazing and they were so great to work with every day. I occasionally had interactions with the Middle School kids (and I had done 1/2 of my student teaching in Middle School in Columbus, Ohio) and I remember saying to my husband "I will NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, EVER teach Middle School. Ever. EV-VER! Period. The end."
So 10 years after I left teaching High School to raise my children up to elementary school age I went In Search Of (without Lennard Nemoy) of another Art position. I got the call from a Charter School 8 minutes from my front door. Middle School. They were looking to add a High School in the next year or two (which as yet has not happened, it's been 5 years).
I had alphabet soup (ate my words) and accepted the position.
Middle Schoolers. What can you say about them? They are weird. They are LOUD. They are full of energy UNTIL you want them to do something and then suddenly they have NO ENERGY.
Like I say in my title, they have brain damage. OK, not literally. They just have an underdeveloped brain. They do not yet have a fully functioning frontal cortex. That is the part of the brain that governs rational thought. (Did the light bulb just go on for you? THAT is why they do the things that they do). In fact, that part of the brain does not fully develop until about 25. AH-HA! Explains a lot about tweens, teens, and young adults.
Here is a basic run down of Middle Schoolers.
6th graders still have the smell of elementary school on them when the show up at the big bad Middle School. They still remember to raise their hands, walk quietly in a line, and do their homework. They begin "the change" to 7th graders about Spring Break. Suddenly your quiet class of 6th graders begin the rumblings of the 7th graders. You can usually keep the lid on them until school lets out. Then they become...
7th Graders. Sometime in the summer before their actual 7th grade year, aliens come to earth and suck out their brains. How do the aliens know who to attack? They follow the smell. 7th graders no longer smell like elementary school. They have a faint (and sometimes not so faint) smell of cottage cheese and old gym socks about them. The boys smell stronger than the girls but they all have it for a time.
7th graders are "the Middle children" as my boss says. They are social and loud and unruly. They want to be independent of EVERYTHING while fitting in to their social group by being EXACTLY like everyone else. There are a lot of strange things going on with their bodies or for some, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING going on with their bodies. They all think that there is something wrong with them (there is) and the all think that there is something wrong with everyone else (there is).
My biggest frustration with 7th grade is the penchant to argue over everything. Really? I just asked you to line up for lunch. That is all. Just stand RIGHT THERE and be relatively quiet. I did not ask you to dis your mama, kick your puppy, or drink poison (although I have considered it). THIS is not an issue to argue about. The other things I listed are. *sigh*. Somehow we muddle through our day and make it alive to dismissal time. Thankfully, the vast majority of 7th graders make it to become 8th graders. That transformation is seen at the end of May...
8th grade. Generally they are calmer than 7th graders. They have learned that by following the basic instructions given by the teacher they are not going to give up their free will. This is a general statement but they tend to get better as the year crawls along. They have a more mature outlook on school and will mostly do what you ask. Some of them are even ready to discuss and negotiate some what logically with you. They are better at getting quiet and they are better at not arguing over every point. There is still some feistiness in them so it is not smooth sailing by any means. By the end of the year the thought of going on to High School (or, gasp! the threat of staying in Middle school while all of their friends go on with out them) enters their hormone muddle brains and they begin to calm down even more. Sometimes it is eerily quiet in my room while they are working and I feel like I shouldn't turn my back on them. Then I remember that they are not 7th graders and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Overall, Middle Schoolers are not too bad one on one. It is the group that can be the main trial. Kind of like piranha. But I will wrestle with them and hope I can cram a little art in their brains as long as God has me teach them.
I began my teaching career in 1995 at a private High School in Charlotte and I loved it. The kids were amazing and they were so great to work with every day. I occasionally had interactions with the Middle School kids (and I had done 1/2 of my student teaching in Middle School in Columbus, Ohio) and I remember saying to my husband "I will NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, EVER teach Middle School. Ever. EV-VER! Period. The end."
So 10 years after I left teaching High School to raise my children up to elementary school age I went In Search Of (without Lennard Nemoy) of another Art position. I got the call from a Charter School 8 minutes from my front door. Middle School. They were looking to add a High School in the next year or two (which as yet has not happened, it's been 5 years).
I had alphabet soup (ate my words) and accepted the position.
Middle Schoolers. What can you say about them? They are weird. They are LOUD. They are full of energy UNTIL you want them to do something and then suddenly they have NO ENERGY.
Like I say in my title, they have brain damage. OK, not literally. They just have an underdeveloped brain. They do not yet have a fully functioning frontal cortex. That is the part of the brain that governs rational thought. (Did the light bulb just go on for you? THAT is why they do the things that they do). In fact, that part of the brain does not fully develop until about 25. AH-HA! Explains a lot about tweens, teens, and young adults.
Here is a basic run down of Middle Schoolers.
6th graders still have the smell of elementary school on them when the show up at the big bad Middle School. They still remember to raise their hands, walk quietly in a line, and do their homework. They begin "the change" to 7th graders about Spring Break. Suddenly your quiet class of 6th graders begin the rumblings of the 7th graders. You can usually keep the lid on them until school lets out. Then they become...
7th Graders. Sometime in the summer before their actual 7th grade year, aliens come to earth and suck out their brains. How do the aliens know who to attack? They follow the smell. 7th graders no longer smell like elementary school. They have a faint (and sometimes not so faint) smell of cottage cheese and old gym socks about them. The boys smell stronger than the girls but they all have it for a time.
7th graders are "the Middle children" as my boss says. They are social and loud and unruly. They want to be independent of EVERYTHING while fitting in to their social group by being EXACTLY like everyone else. There are a lot of strange things going on with their bodies or for some, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING going on with their bodies. They all think that there is something wrong with them (there is) and the all think that there is something wrong with everyone else (there is).
My biggest frustration with 7th grade is the penchant to argue over everything. Really? I just asked you to line up for lunch. That is all. Just stand RIGHT THERE and be relatively quiet. I did not ask you to dis your mama, kick your puppy, or drink poison (although I have considered it). THIS is not an issue to argue about. The other things I listed are. *sigh*. Somehow we muddle through our day and make it alive to dismissal time. Thankfully, the vast majority of 7th graders make it to become 8th graders. That transformation is seen at the end of May...
8th grade. Generally they are calmer than 7th graders. They have learned that by following the basic instructions given by the teacher they are not going to give up their free will. This is a general statement but they tend to get better as the year crawls along. They have a more mature outlook on school and will mostly do what you ask. Some of them are even ready to discuss and negotiate some what logically with you. They are better at getting quiet and they are better at not arguing over every point. There is still some feistiness in them so it is not smooth sailing by any means. By the end of the year the thought of going on to High School (or, gasp! the threat of staying in Middle school while all of their friends go on with out them) enters their hormone muddle brains and they begin to calm down even more. Sometimes it is eerily quiet in my room while they are working and I feel like I shouldn't turn my back on them. Then I remember that they are not 7th graders and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Overall, Middle Schoolers are not too bad one on one. It is the group that can be the main trial. Kind of like piranha. But I will wrestle with them and hope I can cram a little art in their brains as long as God has me teach them.
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