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Have A Very Goopy Christmas, Take Two
I posted yesterday about my new blog, Math Makes Me Poop, but apparently I was still suffering from Almost-Christmas-Break Teacher Brain and the link I tried to post didn’t actually work. So let’s try this again: here’s a post from the new blog. I hope you like it. Have a Very Goopy Christmas | Math…
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Kids are Weird, Man.
Edit: Now with a real, live, working link to the new blog! Sorry about that. Some of you might know that when I’m not writing, I’m teaching. This year, I’m working with a brilliant, hilarious, adorable kid I call Little G, and I’ve created a new blog to chronicle some of our adventures. We do…
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Roses are Red, Booty Haiku.
I’m making the minions-I mean the kids-write Springtime haikus today. I hated being told to write a certain way when I was in school, so of course I have to inflict the same torture on them. Baby girl decides to write about catching butterflies and sticking them in a jar. I peek over her shoulder…
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Baby Girl has a Severe Allergy to Pioneer Life, it Seems.
Baby girl and I are discussing books. She’s rather picky about what she reads, preferring fast-paced, adventure-filled books, but with a definite girly focus. “I didn’t like the Little House on the Prairie books,” she says. “I know,” I say. “They weren’t very interesting when you read them before, but you were pretty small. If…
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Where the Hell is Lisa’s Car? Or, How My Kid Kicked Prepositional Ass
There’s a special kind of magic in homeschooling your kids. The closeness you feel as you sit side-by-side reading, the glee that bubbles over along with the lava that pours out from the homemade volcano, the omifuckinggod what was I thinking that goes along with trying to teach anything that isn’t 100% logic-based and static…
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The Pissed-Off Cat Theory of Autism and Education
Take one already cranky cat. Pull its tail until it tries to bite you. Stuff it in a small crate. Spray it with water. Dangle a hot dog in front of its nose, just out of its reach. Spray it again. A bunch, like, till it looks like it got caught in a rain storm.…
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Autism and Oatmeal
My son, thing one, is 13 and has autism-Asperger syndrome, to be exact. Now this isn’t one of those Poor Me posts, or Look How Much I’m Doing for My Wonderful but Challenging Child, or some shit like that. He’s only called autistic because he needed some therapies, and they weren’t covered without an official…
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April Fox 