Thoughts of summer

I woke up with this song playing in my head. I like it, and I'm going to put it in your head now. Just click on that triangle right there.

It's all good

Too much time has passed since my last blog post. I want to update more often. The time and a good subject haven't coincided before now. Today, however, I had a blog-worthy experience. 

My dear darling daughter Light was in a stage production of some sort tonight. It was a variety show lip sync thing, the purpose of which is fuzzy to me. It was of course for fun, but there may have been other stated purposes. She wanted me to be there and I arranged to go. 

I set out good and early so that we would have time to hang out before the show. The sun was shining brightly behind me and the clear sky expanded in all directions as I drove my beloved truck, Manny, on the country highway toward college town. I had MP3 tunes in my ears and 300 cubic inches of engine at my command. All was good with the world.

Until the klunk. 

Has that ever happened to you? You're rolling along thinking everthing is copacetic when all of a sudden you hear and feel a powerful change in your plans. 

The engine died and I was coasting down a slight hill. I wrangled the ol' boy into the center turn lane. Power steering must have both steering and power to be power steering. Without power it is an upper body work-out. I stepped on the brake to stop the truck, and he stopped. We can't assume too much in these situations, so stopping when I depress the brake is a good sign. I turned the key, and indeed the engine began firing on all cylinders. So far so good. I pushed in the clutch and put that transmission in first gear. That's when things went south. As I released the clutch and gave him some gas he did nothing. Well, not exactly nothing. There was no movement in the RPM gage. That needle was hugging nuthin'. With the increase in gear engagement, however, we had some impressive klunk*, rattle, and roll. That's "roll" as in "sway," not to be confused with forward movement. 

No first gear, so I tried second gear. No second gear. At that point I decided the best course of action was to get out of the middle of the road. Since I'd stopped the truck and the engine would no longer move the wheels I had to provide movement with my raw Java power. Those of you who have met me know that Java's raw physical power is pretty wimpy.** A nice fellow passing by stopped to help me push Manny into a parking lot. 

Superman and I have been members of AAA auto club since 1984. It says so on my AAA card. Since we frequently drive old cars with comensurately old parts, we have had many occasions to be very glad we have AAA emergency roadside assistance service. I called the AAA help line and before too long a very friendly Bubba came with his awesomely powerful superduty flatbed tow truck to carry Manny back to Greenwood. Technically it seems that the flat bed truck is called a carrier. That's what Google leads me to believe, anyway. 

Once Bubba got Manny onto his carrier bed this is what we saw. It isn't pretty.

This is Manny's rear end. No, really, that's what they call it! It's also known as a differential. It isn't supposed to have that big gash in the middle of that plate. You see it there, with the gash that looks like it was attacked by a rabid can opener? Yeah. That explains the klunk and jerk, doesn't it?

Believe it or not, that's a good sight to see under the circumstances. I thought the problem was in the tranny. Yep, that's what they call it. Otherwise known as a transmission.  But since the problem is obviously in the differential, that is much better than having a wrecked transmission. 

Here, let me show you:

On the left is the differential. It is a complicated compilation of gears and associated machined parts. And below is a cut-away image of a transmission. Do you see how much more complicated that sucker is? In Auto Mechanic-ese, complicated = very expensive. The transmission is also more difficult to access. It's located under the front of the car, behind the engine, in the center of the underbelly of the vehicle aproximately even with the dashboard. The differential, centered between the two back wheels, is much easier to access. In Auto Mechanic-ese, "easier to access" = expensive, but not as expensive as "hard to access." Let's face it: in Auto Mechanic-ese, handing the mechanic your car keys = expensive. 

But you know what? It's all good. I had my cell phone and was able to call Light to tell her I couldn't make it, to call Superman and give him the news, and to call AAA to get a tow back to town. The wind was pretty cold out there in the parking lot, but inside my beloved truck with the sun shining low through the windows I was very comfortable. I had my big 52 ounce mug of ice water with me. The hour or so I spent in the truck was an opportunity to clean out the trash. I filled two plastic grocery bags with the trash from my back floorboard. I found my road atlas, too. And I finally found the match to that garden glove that's been in my console box for 2 years. It was an adventure in discovery, actually, but some of the stuff I found is just a little bit TMI for me to post. 

I am sorry that I missed Light's performance and the rest of the show which I understand was side-splittingly funny. But over all I think the evening went pretty well. It's all good.

* A "klunk" is worse than a "clunk." Trust me.

** My awesome Java powers are primarily emotional in nature. 

His bias is showing: Now what do I do?

I heard a couple of disturbing things in my sociology class this week. I must tell you about them. 

These are things the prof said in his lectures. He was explaining some concept or another and to give an example he mentioned a game he used to play with the other boys when he was younger. I think this was a middle or high school age group, but I'm not entirely sure. It was an informal very physical game called "Smear the Queer." As he said the name of the game he looked a little bit embarrassed and glanced over at me. He knows my position on the GLBT. He made some comment about the name being politically incorrect, then went on to describe a game in which a ball is thrown up into the air and comes down amid a cluster of guys. The guy who catches the ball becomes the "queer" and the object of the game is to tackle this fellow and get the ball from him. Or something like that. Have you ever heard of that game? Have you ever played that game? One of the other students in the class said he had played it before. 

I was disturbed. I don't remember if I said anything, though I think I made a comment to the effect that the game endorses and gives first hand experience in homophobic violence. I was not amused. I hadn't considered how our society indoctrinates its youths in gay bashing. The more I think about it the angrier I get. 

But that's not all. On Thursday he was discussing scientific advancement and the human genome project. Again I forget exactly what point he was trying to make. It's in my notes somewhere. But I remember what he said. He suggested that it would be wonderful if genetic scientists find the specific genes responsible for birth defects, or learning disabilities, or homosexuality! Then the scientists could remove the faulty gene and ... something. As soon as he said "homosexuality" in that context, my mind went into defensive overdrive. I was appalled. 

He and I have had a few discussions about homosexuality. He lent me a video about the gay youth center in Washington DC called SMYAL. He sounded all supportive and encouraging, etc. I suspect he thinks he is. I also suspect he hasn't really thought about it very deeply. His bias is showing. 

I want to talk to him about this, but I'm not sure how to proceed. I don't want to sound accusational. I'd like to point out his inconsistencies and show him his bias. I want to make him understand that gay is OK. But I need to not offend him. It's a tricky relationship. He is my professor, he has a doctorate degree (for what it's worth) and I only have a bachelors. But he's younger than I am. I seem to have more information about homosexuality than he does. It appears that I understand it better, anyway. 

What would you do? Discuss.

Presenting Sproing as SuperHero!

He requested that I share this with you. 

That's one answer

How twins are made:

Just for fun

The Key to Your Life is Compromise

Anything good in your life comes from seeking balance and unity. You are a flexible shapeshifter who has the skills to survive in any situation. Anything bad in your life comes from not giving enough... or giving too much. Remember to not be stingy with others. But also remember not to give to the point of exhaustion.

The Keys To Your Life

Kidlet updates

Today has been much better than yesterday on the kidlet front. 

Sproing brought a note home from his teachers today. It says "[Sproing] had a better day today. He did not talk back, and he stayed focused a lot better. Thank you for talking to him. I know he will succeed if he stays focused." It was written by the intern and signed by both her and the regular teacher. I suspect that having Mom Go Talk To the Teachers probably made a difference, or at least made some kind of impact on the young'un. 

Good news on the Diva front, too. This evening she came in and said "Um, Mom, um, don't get mad." (Conversations like that rarely end well.) "I decided to come tell you about it instead of just taking it." Then she told me that she'd been looking for something under the sink in my bathroom and found my make-up bag. It's a very small (and cheap) clutch purse that holds one tube of lipstick and a small eye shadow compact, the extent of my make-up collection. She wants the purse. I told her she couldn't have my purse, BUT since I now know she likes it and wants something like that, I will be on the lookout for one to get for her. Of course I told her how very proud I am that she asked me instead of just taking it. Then I told her again. And reworded it another way and said it again! We definitely want to reward and encourage this behavior!

I've been thinking about Dr. Pedia's dire prediction about Diva. I have decided that my best response to that is to discount what she said about my daughter. IMHO, she's full of shit. She may be a licensed psychiatrist and probably knows a lot of information, but she doesn't have perspective or experience and is generally wrong about Diva being (more or less) a lost cause. No, she never actually said the child is a lost cause, but she certainly indicated very little hope that Diva would ever respond positively to being part of this family. Bullshit. She's my baby girl and I love her. She's gonna be (gonna be?? Already is!) a handful. The next 5-15 years are going to be a wild ride. But there's always hope. For her I hold out a rather large helping of hope. 

Heroes come in various threat levels

Be the first on your block to be your own hero!

It's the latest thing. Everybody's doing it. 

So, what? I'm gonna beat you with my ugly stick? 

Parenthood isn't for sissies

My head hurts. It isn't a headache kind of thing, but more of a heartache and frustration cocktail that has me discouraged all through my head. It's the children, of course. 

Diva had an appointment with the child psychiatrist yesterday. She's a pediatric psychiatrist, so I'll call her Dr. Pedia. She is relatively new in this practice, as the previous kid-shrink moved away last summer. This is a temporary assignment for her, though. I don't know why, exactly, but she's supposed to leave this summer. I don't know if the practice will have another kid shrink to replace her. Enough useless background, let's get to the point. 

So Diva went yesterday for her second visit with Dr. Pedia. At my suggestion the doctor looked at Diva's test results from the psych evaluation done on her a couple of years ago. Dr. Pedia evidently hasn't actually read my child's chart. But anyway, after looking at the test results she said that with Diva's diagnosis and some of her behavior she thinks Diva might grow up to reject the family. Or if not reject us outright, then she will never appreciate what we have done for her. Apparently, according to the doc, she is probably incapable of appreciating us, or perhaps incapable of communicating it. I'm not sure I believe her entirely. She's a young doctor without much experience, this is just one opinion, and there is a lot of time to see just what happens. There is a lot of water yet to flow under this bridge before she grows up. That being said, it was a very disheartening thing to hear. 

As I have said more than once it is my responsibility to do the right mother thing, but her responsibility to function in life. I am not responsible for what choices she makes. That goes for all of my children, for those who show good decision making skills and those who don't. I parent the kids to the best of my humble ability. What they do is not necessarily a reflection on me for good or for ill. Most people don't see it that way, but if I'm not accepting responsibility for the antisocial behavior, I can't accept responsibility for the stellar behavior either. I do my part, they do what they will. Some of them I'm more proud of than others. 

Sproing is in the Java Family News today also, and not in the stellar-behavior column. Some background (I'll try to be brief): The boy has had behavior problems in school in the past. This year he has kept his behavior under control and done quite well in the classroom. (Behaviorally, but not grade-wise. That's another post.) The teacher he has this year is marvelous. She's one of those wonderful natural teachers who exudes confidence and demands respect just by walking in the room. She's been teaching for some 20 years and knows how to handle kids with strict affection. The woman is gifted. Amazing. Sproing responds very well to her. 

The fly in the ointment, however, is a student teacher doing her internship or clinical or whatever they call it. This poor thing is maybe 22 years old at the most, but she could easily pass for 16. She's thin and pretty and shy. Fresh meat, in other words. She's trying to teach the class Sproing is in. I think today was her first day to be completely in charge of the class without having the regular teacher in the room. The hunting hound in Sproing sprang. To make matters worse, this poor girl's instructor was in the room evaluating her teaching. I don't know details, but from what I heard from the teacher and intern and Superman (who talked to the teacher on the phone at noon), Sproing was given 5 chances to do the right thing. He made an explicit decision (5 of them, evidently) to disobey. He talked back to the student-teacher, was very rude to her, refused outright to do what she asked of him. In other words, he was oppositional and defiant. As in Oppositional Defiant Disorder*. He had to be removed from the classroom. I'm not sure how long he was out of the room, whether they kept him out all day or not. He said something this evening about having to stay in the in-school suspension room tomorrow. He may have meant he'll have to go there if he acts up again tomorrow. I say stick him in there and make it miserable for him. He has lost privileges at home through the weekend because of his behavior. 

You know, folks, I'm tired. All this shit day after day with no relief in sight. According to Dr. Pedia, possibly no reward at the end of the shit. I know from previous experience that a lot of parenting isn't this difficult. We just lucked out with this pair. I'm really tired. 

*If you check that link you'll see a list of 9 typical behaviors of the ODD child. Sproing regularly displays 8 of the 9. Remember the operative word there is "excessive."

School and stuff

I survived the tests, I think. I really like getting immediate feedback. My Developmental Psych prof grades the tests right after we finish and gives us our scores before the end of class. The tests are all multiple choice and we indicate our answers on Scantron cards which are read on a computational machine of some sort using optical mark recognition. He collects our cards, goes to the office and shoots them through the Scantron reader, and is back with our scores in 5 minutes. Pretty cool, really. So after the test yesterday I was able to know that I aced that sucker!!! 

I did not try this, however. I follow rules better than this. Usually. ;)

xkcd Click the link to see it full sized. 

I did quite well on my Psych 101 exam that I took Monday. We got our scores in class yesterday. I don't know how I did on the Counseling test. Took that Tuesday, hope to get the results today. I don't feel as confident about that one as I did the other two.  

I bought myself another box of chocolates. I've threatened them. Occasionally that works, but what works even better is locking the damned door. Superman put the old door back on the hinges and installed the locking door knob. The door looks like crap, but it works, so there it is. And I've got the key. 

That's about all I have time for this morning. It's driving me crazy not to write more often. I miss the experience of rambling on about my life for your amusement. It amuses me, too. At least I'm otherwise occupied, and not at loose ends with nothing to occupy my time. 

Update

I just checked my campus email. The test score for the counseling exam is posted! I got an A!!!