Snip, Snip

I hadn't really been paying much attention to what my hair looked like, so last night, when I finally glanced in the mirror and really scrutinized, I was bothered by the front. It's so much shaggier there, out of balance with the back, which is about half an inch long and tapered along my neck. So, during a commercial break during The Apprentice, I grabbed the kitchen scissors and began cutting----or should I say, hacking?

I'm not entirely pleased with the result. In fact, it looks no better than it did But I'm happy that I took action. I hate feeling stale. I hate feeling discontent-but-paralyzed. I hate making daily phone calls to my hair salon, struggling with my Fil-o-Fax and a dry pen and the receptionist's Charlie Brown teacher voice, attempting to negotiate a time that works for everyone, just to get my freakin' bangs trimmed. So, I cut it myself. And if it looks shitty after I shower this morning, I'll cut it again.

I used to have loooooonnnnng hair that people either loved or hated. No neutrality as far as my hair was concerned--no sir. I was called "Julia Roberts" and I was called "Michael Landon." I was once stopped at an airport by a screaming girl who thought that I was Jami Gertz from "The Lost Boys," and I was once attacked by a Rodney Dangerfield look-a-like at the video store where I worked who told me that my hair was "terribly unattractive," did nothing for me, and "should just be chopped off." I was so invested in that loooooonnnnng hair because I felt that my face just wasn't pretty and my hair was about all that I had going for me, looks-wise.

But then, I got older. And more trustful. And more desirous of a blow-dry routine that didn't take ninety-seven minutes. So, I allowed my hair guy to cut off a bit more during each of my visits to him, and eventually, after my second son was born, I shoved a photo of Selma Blair into his hand and said, "Cut it all off" and, like Edward Scissorhands, he did. And once again, people either loved or hated my hair, but I always loved it. Unless the bangs started to hang into my eyes, and I felt compelled to play beauty school dropout.

I wish that I could be as easygoing with everything as I am with my hair. I wish I could, without a care, hop planes to Ibiza or make PowerPoint presentations in front of three hundred colleagues or testify at due processes. I wish that I could bid at auctions or invest in property. I wish that I could stand up during open-mike night at the local coffee shop and read a poem out loud.

But right now, I can't. I'm just too careful about most things. Except hair.

April Monologue

So, April is usually my favorite month because it has my birthday tattooed on one of it's days, but this April, I'm even more excited because it's National Poetry Month and it's also National Autism Awareness Month. I've been loving all of the poetry being shared for NaPoWriMo (a poem a day, baby), and Oprah did a show on autism yesterday.

I am going to school for my advanced certificate in teaching students who have been diagnosed with autism, and I'm just over halfway finished. I think that there are so many misconceptions about autism--that people who have it cannot speak or that they are generally savants, like Dustin Hoffman's character in Rainman.

There are five different diagnoses that fall under the Autism Spectrum Disorders/Pervasive Developmental Disorders umbrella: autism, Asperger's Syndrome, pervasive developmental disorder--not otherwise specified (PDD-NOS), Rett Syndrome, and childhood disintegrative disorder. Each of these possess their own criterion for diagnosis (and can be hugely different), but the main characteristics of all include some type of impairment in each of three areas: communication, social skills, and behavior.

A couple of main points that I want to convey here--autism can appear in many different ways, and I think that parents can be simply knocked down when they voice concerns about their child and first have that "autism" label hurled at them. It's like--"He's speaking, he can't be autistic!" but there are so many different ways that autism can manifest itself. Some autistic people can't speak, but others are highly verbal, and there are many people in-between. Some people (not saying ME) think that Bill Gates has a form of autism (like Asperger's Syndrome), or that Albert Einstein had it, too. Temple Grandin is a woman who has autism who has written books about her experiences.

One of the biggest indicators of autism that I have learned about is an inability to participate in activities of joint attention (like when a mommy and her baby look at a toy together and the baby shows the mommy something with the intention of having the mommy actually look at it--children with autism don't typically do this--they do not attempt to draw other people's attention so that it aligns with their own).

The other point is that early intervention is extremely important and that there are many different kinds of treatment approaches available to children with autism and their families. Speech and language therapy is huge (shameless plug for my own profession)--I have had at least three students on my caseload in every school where I have worked who were diagnosed with some form of autism. For some of those children, I have targeted basic communication skills (asking for items, expressing emotions) and for others, I have addressed the social side (initiating conversations appropriately, maintaining topics, taking turns in conversation, playing games with peers, contributing relevant points to classroom discussions, understanding social cause and effect). These children also receive other special eduation services (like special academic support, behavioral support, occupational therapy), and I have generally seen growth. There is NOTHING better than watching a child with autism play with friends on the playground or independently tap your arm to get your attention, then verbalize his need or offer a comment. Nothing better.

I'm excited that autism is finally getting some attention (and what better attention than OPRAH attention?). I hope that money for more research and increased awareness result from this month. Tell someone about autism. Work it into a conversation. Get a dialogue going (or if you are like me and simply enjoy the sound of your own voice, feel free to monologue-haha). If you know someone with autism, share the experiences that you have had with that person. Google search "autism" and find out a little more.

Can you tell that I LOVE my field?!

And on that note, I found out yesterday that I will be returning to the school district full-time next year, to my own school. I'm extremely excited--the school that I believe that I will be working at has a preschool for special education students, and I love working with children that age who have significant speech and language needs. There are usually a few children with autism in those special education pre-k's, and we work on structuring the environment in ways that will encourage/enhance communication. I created a million spreadsheets and sample lesson plans yesterday, as I am just bursting with anticipation. I can hear the click of my high heels on the tiled school floors already (by the way, I have been working a day and a half this past year at another school, but it just wasn't the same--loved the kids, but the floor was carpeted--no click clack there!).

I have not been creative in recent months the way I tried to be when I first started this blog. My Morning Pages have (figuratively) fallen under the bed and I haven't written a short story in a long time. But I've been creative in other ways--trying to think outside of the box, trying to be original in my lesson plans, trying to be inventive in brainstorming/problem solving. This panics me a bit, but I am planning on starting Morning Pages again. There is a neon vacancy sign buzzing and flickering in my life when I don't write.

I hope that you have a relaxing Easter weekend. xo

An Assembly of Search Terms

I've been reviewing the key search terms that have led people to this little plot of property in cyberspace, and here are my conclusions:

For those of you who have arrived here looking for "benefits of a Giant Eagle Advantage Card," I'd like to fully endorse the club and let you know that on last week's grocery bill alone, I saved $27.83.

For those of you who have arrived here looking for lesson plans based on the works of either Sandra Cisneros or Lois Lowry, I'd like to stomp my feet and light a candle with enthusiasm for those authors and their work. Also, if you find anything more useful than my opinion in your world wide web travels, please stop back and let me know of some good activities that I can implement with my upper elementary students? Much appreciated.

For those of you who have been propelled here from fears over "benign twitching" and "benign fasciculations," I'd like to say that I have had random muscle twitches for nearly a year and a half now and since accepting them--albeit grudgingly--(they come in like high tide and then, they move out again), I have never felt better. "Nerve conduction studies" feel funky but do not hurt, and "benign" means exactly that: benign.

For those who are looking for "pictures of children in the naughty corner," I'd like to thank you for NOT searching for "pictures of adults in the naughty corner."

And for those of you searching for "Cathie Byers Hamilton," I would like to say that is my ultimate heart's desire that you are someone I went to high school with, who has realized, in your more mature years, how special and beautiful I was, and would like to make amends for picking me last for volleyball.