The Dog

Elderly mixed-race (Haitian/German) 30 lb (14 kg)castrated male seeks home and companionship for the German winter.

Catch your attention, I hope? Now I just gotta translate it into German and post it up around the area. With an endearing photo.

Wolfy. We still got Wolfy. Fourteen years AFTER I told my friend Kevin, a missionary in Haiti, that I ABSOLUTELY, UNDER NO CONDITIONS, needed or wanted a dog, that dog is still with us.

He has lived in Haiti, Connecticut, Arizona, France and Germany. Seen the Atlantic and Pacific shores of the USA and vacationed all over Europe.

And now spends his days lying on the sofa and fending off hugs and kisses from the four-year-olds.



His favorite pasttime is breakfast.

Deafness agrees with him, as he is able to ignore just about anything. Including a family of six coming in the door and making dinner while the kids jump on the sofa.

We had a bad spell about four years ago, when the twins were born. In addition to two newborns, a four-year-old and a six-year-old, I was also chasing after an incontinent dog. The vet thought it might be stress. You think?

Wish MY doctors cared as much about MY levels of stress at the time!

Anyhow, he had Cushing's Disease - and still does. An overfunctioning of the adrenal glands, two small organs above the kidneys most people don't even know we have. He does well with one daily tablet of medication.



That someone needs to put forcibly in his throat since he won't take it any other way. The pills cost over 2 Euros a pop so you don't want to find them on the floor later, peanut butter licked off, pill neatly spat out.

Other than that he likes to be in the loop, and part of the family, but can't walk very fast or very far. We take him to the Biergartens with us. It's nice since he doesn't react to other dogs (doesn't hear them barking) and is good with kids. (We had TWENTY over for playgroup yesterday and they LOVED him!)



So yeah...we are looking for a home, permanent or temporary, for a very loveable Opa.

We would risk the flight and 30 day quarantine in Australia if someone will take him for the three to four months from November through February.

(Something came up with a Rabies Neutralizing Antibody Titer Test a few days ago, something we thought we didn't need because of quarantine but which it turns out he DOES need IN ADDITION to quarantine. We can have the test done and bring him with us, but he needs to spend at least two, and up to five, months in Germany after the test. If he spends five here, he only needs one month of quarantine on our end. Which is why he needs a home. We leave in November. If he came with us it would be four months quarantine even if we get the test done now.)



A permament home here would obviously be the best solution, but we realize it is hard to ask someone to take on an older pet on medications. Even a loveable one.

He would be a wonderful companion for someone who would just like a sweet, quiet, canine presence at home. Someone to sit with in the evenings. Someone to follow you into the kitchen looking up at you with adoration- for a slice of whatever you are putting on your sandwich. Someone who will gladly come with you in the car if you like but doesn't demand a lot of activity. Someone you have to force off the sofa to go for his evening walk. And someone you really can take anywhere.

Someone to love as we do.



Then again, he is great with kids. Just kind of toddles along behind them waiting for a piece of pretzel to fall his way. Puts up with the ear and tail tugging with a look of martyrdom on his face. He's been through our four, including twins...so it's really going to take a lot to faze him!




Shy, gentle Opa looking for a retirement home. Any takers?

You Are Not Alone

(This was written about three weeks ago, as a prelude to the letters I am writing up for the Schulamts in Boeblingen and Baden-Wurttemburg. You'll get those too. Positive actions arising out of my anger!)

I tried to reassure Killian's mother that there was really no rush to pick up her son. The boys really do play well together and it is gratifying to be able to give another mother the afternoon off every once in a while.

But she looked worried.

"You know they've got that math test tomorrow, right?" she asked.

Of course I didn't know. It would explain all the little scraps of paper I have recently pulled out of the bottom of Andrew's school bag. Seems like they are learning the multiplication tables. And being tested on them regularly.

How gratifying to find out about it weeks later from another parent.

Andrew is teaching himself the multiplication tables. Or picking it up at school. Or maybe was just born knowing them. How lucky for him.

But Killian's mother had tears in her eyes. She and Killian are doing their best to help him in school, but.....he had missed a week due to illness and had fallen behind when the teacher hadn't noticed that he was adding everything instead of subtracting. In a class of 32, she just hadn't noticed that he had never picked up subtraction.

This is a child- and a mother - who are trying desperately to learn. And getting no help whatsoever. Sound familiar? Killian's mother finally went online to try to figure out HOW to best teach her child the multiplication tables. And taught HERSELF about flashcards. How far would this family go with just the slightest little bit of help from the school?

She was almost embarrassed to tell me all this. I'm not sure why she did. Lately, people have been opening up to me more and more. Could I be getting a reputation? Or is the positive energy really working? In any case, I put her on my mailing list.

YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

It's interesting. People have an entirely different viewpoint of me depending on which child they know. The parents of Andrew's friends assume everything is hunky dory over here. I must be doing something right. Which right away, in our twisted little German minds, translates into "what am I doing wrong?"

THIS IS NOT YOUR FAULT.

The first step must be to find a common voice. We all want what is best for our children.

What we need is a voice in the school system. This means staying actively informed on our children's education.

1. We need written, concrete goals and expectations for our children. Where should they be? When should we worry?

2. We need more than one parent/teacher meeting every two years. (No, I am not kidding you. I have had ONE face-to-face meeting with Andrew's teacher, in January, since he started school almost two years ago.)

3. We need programs in place to identify when children are not meeting expectations. We need programs that identify the problem and focus on correcting it, so that EVERY CHILD is able to reach his/her full potential.

We need a lot more. We need more money for teachers and teachers' aides and for special education programs. Teachers need a lighter workload so that they can focus more on individual children. We need to integrate mildly learning disabled children into the mainstream. (Nils should not need special ed.) I won't even get into the outdated Hauptschul/Realschul/Gymnasium system or the possible benefits of a longer school day.

For that we need money and a radical change.

But we can start small. With flashcards.

1. What exactly ARE the schools' goals for our children? Don't give me this PISA crap. Tell me what Frau Schmitt, here in Altdorf, expects from her first graders by January.

2. What shall we do - together - if these goals aren't being met?

The most radical change would be changing expectations. We need to EXPECT the teachers and schools to actively - and willing - include parents in their children's education. Schools and parents need to communicate openly and regularly. Parental involvement - and working together - needs to be the norm. It IS a cultural thing; Germans work alone, their concept of working together is not the same as what I've seen in the USA, in France, in Africa, in Haiti. We need to LEARN HOW TO WORK TOGETHER; parents, school, teachers, communities.

Why are we fighting these battles alone? Why are we fighting at all?

The system is here to serve us, not the other way around. (Something Germans really really REALLY need to learn as well!)

Let's find a way to communicate - positively - and get our needs met.

Killian's mom, and too many like her, should not be struggling alone to raise the very children that are our brightest hope for the future.

Germany's Children

The counselor was there to categorize my child, not help her.

I am extremely pleased - no let's face it - ecstatic beyond belief - to announce that Ryan has an above average IQ. I still don't believe in IQ tests. But I'm still pleased, because on this graph she is smart.

And the graphs matter more than the reality.

According to the graphs, the counselor HAS to at least recommend the Realschule for her, possibly even Gymnasium. You can tell that made her uncomfortable, but she IS German and she WILL follow the graph.

Never mind that my child would never survive in either one of those schools. Graphs don't lie.

I didn't bother to ask which subjects were the ones where she shot way over the mark. It was gratifying to see, but it wasn't really important. The two that interested me was where the chart showed absolutely no comprehension at all. Above average intelligence, generally high scores and two that are so low they barely register.

What does that say to you?

The counselor hadn't bothered to check.

Turns out they were in spatial comprehension - concept - and in picking out a fifth word that doesn't belong in the group. Also comprehension of a concept. The counselor decided it was because Ryan was bilingual and that she just needs to increase her German vocabulary.

Are you kidding me? And this is the lady who is supposed to be trained in this sort of thing.

She obviously didn't care. Not her job. She had done the graphs.

Never mind that the graphs clearly pointed to a child with a learning disability - my guess is on a mild form of ADD that doesn't manifest in the typical hyperactivity but in dreaminess and an inability to synthesize details into a larger ideological picture. I know one other child with the disorder and now see the similarities. I clearly see it in the math, but also in retrospect on her slowness to convert her knowledge of the alphabet into sounds and reading.

I drew a blank stare when I commented on the results pointing to a learning disabilty and mentioned that Ryan also has juvenile hypothyroidism - which has been linked to an increased incidence of ADD and other learning difficultires. I asked what system was in place to help children with learning problems.

What do they do with all the German children who have learning disabilities?

She checked the box marked Hauptschule.

My God Germany, what are you doing to your children?

Maybe You Should Fly A Jet!

This has always been my all-time least favorite Dr. Seuss book.

I do find it cool that my "real-life, responsible, grown-up" job is listed in the title: Maybe you should fly a jet! Maybe you should be a vet! (By Theo LeSieg, illustrated by Michael J. Smollin, in the Dr. Seuss Beginner Books series)

But I never liked the sentiments expressed within. Especially from Dr. Seuss.

"You've got to do something. What DO you want to do?"

Like kids need that kind of pressure.

"You've got to BE someone sooner or later."

It just isn't the creative, child-friendly, nurturing tone I associate with Dr. Seuss.

But my kids love it. Ryan even brought it in to her English class when they were learning careers at school.

And the last page is growing on me.

"Maybe you should be a voice. Someday you must make a choice. Maybe you should be a FOICE! ????? When you find out what a FOICE is, you can tell us what your choice is."

It leaves some room for self-discovery.

I'm still not sure what a foice is, but I am studying both the Tao and the Bhagavad Gita to find out. I'd let you know when I find out, but I have read enough to know that it is something everyone has to find out for themselves.

That Dr. Seuss is no dummy.

I've tried on lots of roles in Dr. Suess's book. And will continue to try more.

And it occurs to me. Maybe I SHOULD be a voice! I've been speaking to more and more people lately about the lack of special education programs in the school system here. If it's not that, there will always be other causes I want to rush out and defend. I am a voice.

I speak for those who cannot speak up for themselves, either because of convention or shyness. I speak for those who would LIKE to but are afraid or discouraged.

I may be a pain in the ass, but I have more people thank me for it than condemn me.

My goal now is to speak FOR a cause, to speak FOR a group (or better yet, WITH it), to speak FOR change and FOR something better. To speak FOR all of us, and all of our children.

I have a letter to write to the school board here, and to the school authorities in Baden-Wurttemburg. The more I think about what I am going to say, the more I discuss it with other parents, the more I realize that it has to be written. I can't just jump ship and run.

But I am going to write FOR our school system, FOR change within it, FOR special education programs, FOR integration of special education into the main schools. It's a step that Germany needs to take. And will. But someone - lots of someones - have to be willing to take that first step and speak out.

I am going to be a voice.

I've worked my way to the end of the book and it's high time I made a choice!

Third Grade Math: Far From Over

Ryan finally brought home a test result I could smile at this week.

In fact, I laughed out loud, embraced her with tears of mirth streaming down my face, and did a little happy dance of disbelief around the kitchen.

I'm not sure that helped her self esteem any.

She'd hit the jackpot, though, an incredible NONE CORRECT on the entire one-hour test. "Well, Mom, " she quietly said "Frau Danzinger did give me partial credit on the first question." (She was cowering behind the kitchen cabinets, not quite sure if my war whoops and insane laughter were a good sign or a bad one.) Yeah, because Ryan had managed to write a correct word into a completely incorrect sentence, and Frau Danzinger really has been doing her darndest to give Ryan whatever points she can. She gave up after that first one though.

What do you say to something like that?

I was curious, and so I called the teacher. "So, how about that weather, huh?" Frau Danzinger was not at all fooled. "Fine then, how about that test result?" She didn't have an answer. "It's okay. I'm not angry. In fact, I laughed." That loosened her up a bit. She guesses we still need to work with Ryan on some things. You think?! I am grateful that she didn't yell at Ryan - although she did write on the test that she thought Ryan could do better than this? Really? CAN she do better than this?

We discussed it once again. "Do you still honestly believe that this child has no learning "weakness"?" I asked her. (It's a nicer word than disability and, since they still don't believe there is anything wrong, also less insistent.)

What Frau Danzinger is trying to reassure me is that Ryan is a lovely child, that she just needs time to mature. She keeps reminding me of the IQ results. (They were good.) She is a pleasure in the classroom and never causes trouble or disruptions. Which is why she will never be looked at in this system. If she were a typical ADD child - male, loud, unruly and disruptive - they would have listened to me four years ago already.

And she gets what they consider average grades. 3s to 4s. Consistently. (C's in the American equivalent).

I just can't believe they don't look closer - especially with a parent hounding them for four years. Her math tests recently for example. The first half - dealing with fairly complicated multiplication and long division - rote math - is ENTIRELY CORRECT. The second half - dealing with application of the concept - ENTIRELY FALSE. For months now.

Ryan has ADD. I'm sure of it.

I'm also sure she will never get the help she needs here in Germany.

I finally had my mom ask Marie, our family's guidance fairy and a trained psychologist, what she thought about Ryan's symptoms. She sent me to a website, learningdisabilities.about.com/od/glossar1/g/abstractreason.htm that in turn led me to another website, www.ncgiadd.org., and piles of information.

She has also been reading my blogs, and....go ahead and read all those essays on Third Grade Math yourself again if you are interested. Ryan has almost every classical symptom of ADD, except the hyperactivity. It's a quieter, dreamy form more common to girls. And most often overlooked. I've been documenting it for a year without knowing it.

What bothers me is that the school here didn't even try, doesn't even really care.

I'm learning a lot. I'm giving up the guilt. (Don't Shoot The Dog: THIS IS NOT YOUR FAULT.) And I'm reading about the Individuals with Disabilities Acts, the U.S federal law requiring public schools to serve children with specific learning disabilites by developing an Individual Education Program (IEP), including individualized learning goals and A TEAM OF EDUCATORS, PSYCHOLOGISTS AND HEALTH PROFESSIONALS, for EACH student with a disability.

German websites don't even mention Ryan's form of ADD. The school has no health care professional, no psychologist, and noone trained to handle special needs education.

I think we all know what the Germans do when someone doesn't fit into their system.

FIghting For The Short Bus

Americans know the "short bus." In a country where kids are bussed to school on large, long yellow school busses, the "short bus" is the yellow bus that picks up the "special ed" kids. Short yellow buses are also used on long rural routes with few kids, but....the stigma remains. The kids coming off the short bus are the kids whose limbs flop awkwardly from wheelchairs, who wear helmets and crooked smiles, who are...let's face it....just thrilled to be able to attend public school at all.

There is actually a short bus in my area of Germany. It picks up the kids with severe debilitating ADD and slight learning delays and brings them to a special school nearby with class sizes of 6 - 10 and one class where the teacher's dog joins the class daily. We also have a child with Down Syndrome in our kindergarten and a blind child in the local grade school.

So, I guess what I may be fighting for isn't exactly "special ed." I don't actually know the status of special ed here since none of my children fits into the category. I don't see it, I don't hear about it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist or isn't excellent. I do know anyone with a physical handicap requiring a wheelchair or other walking aid would have to be carried up and down the stairs of the elementary school. (I know this, as well as the impossibility of using any public buildings, such as the gym and Rathaus, because I was unable to navigate them with a double stroller, since they have no ramps, no elevators, and are therefore wheelchair - and double stroller - inaccessible.)

What I'm fighting for is the kids in the middle, the kids with mild speech impediments, or slight hearing loss or just slightly slower abilities to learn than average. I'm fighting for the "less-than-average" and let's face it, less than average sounds a lot worse than "special."

"Special" kids in Germany are quick, bright, and again, let's be honest, often blonde. Or at least from your traditional German family. To make it as an immigrant, you have to not only be very very special, but also able to assimilate into the traditional German view of what a scholar is.

Oh. Yeah. And do it before the age of ten.

Everybody agrees that the current system is absolutely stupid and unfair. And also that it will take decades to change it. (Put in your own comment on the pace of change in Europe; I can't even begin to go there right now.)

Right now the kids are filtered into three separate school systems beginning in fifth grade. (Some rare cities such as Berlin are beginning to do this later, in seventh grade.) The smart kids go to the Gymnasium, basically highschool, with ages from 10 thourgh 18. From there they are expected to go to college. (Decided, once again, at the age of 10.) The average kids go to Realschule where they are prepared for very respectable careers as bank tellers, office staff and kindergarten teachers. (No kidding, the FIRST teachers your kids have in Germany aren't even considered good enough to go to college.) The dumb kids - and immigrants - go to Hauptschule, whose name has now been changed to Werkrealschule to make people feel better about it. And, although everyone keeps trying to tell me that Hauptschule is fine, that the kids are just slow starters, and that they can work their way up from there, the fact remains that noone knows what to do with these kids in the future.

Hauptschul kids officially graduate in 9th grade. Ready for a job as a bricklayer or prostitute. And there aren't a lot of jobs open for bricklayers right now.

Okay - the official line is that these kids mature and feed into the Realschule, in exceptional cases even into the Gymnasium and then into college. The system is supposed to be flexible, meeting the individual needs of each individual child.

But in reality, Germany has labelled and cut their losses on an overwhelming two-thirds of their kids. By the age of 10. Turns out I am too American to accept this. Instead of "no child left behind" they voluntarily weed out the kids to leave behind, and leave them behind early. "Make a sprint for college, son, and don't look back at all the dumb friends you have to run over to get there." I'm sorry. It's just so typically German.

Don't get me wrong. The American system is far from perfect too. But at least there is debate and change. At least we are fighting for the right of EVERY CHILD to learn. At least the theory works, even if the reality is still ugly and messy.

The top third of ANY education system are going to do fine. Those are the third you only need to place a book in front of and they sop it up. It's really really hard to mess up with those. (Believe me, I know, I have one of those too.) The sign of a really superior education system would be its ability to help those who can't learn on their own, its success rate with those that actually need HELP learning. I mean, isn't that what teaching is all about?!

So, yeah, I guess in the end I'm just fighting for the same old thing that parents everywhere should be fighting for. More money for teacher's aides, for reading programs, for special education classes.

I'm still trying to convince the school Ryan even HAS a learning problem. (Shouldn't they have picked this up by now? Or is it easier just to filter them out than it is to teach them. More cost-effective in the short-term, I guess.)

Funny isn't it? All those years you spend laughing at the kids on the short bus. Until you become a parent and realize how "special" every member of society is, and how they all should have access to the same opportunities.

Where Are My Pain Meds When I Really Need Them?

Ryan.

Sigh.

I don't know that I can adequately describe the intense inner turmoil and severe emotional pain my ten year old daughter causes me on an almost daily basis. Just writing that line was hard. But, since I am trying to prove myself worthy to be called a writer, I am going to give it a try.

Let me begin with labor. It sucked. I wanted natural childbirth; they strapped a continuous stress monitor on my belly and kept me on my back the entire time. Noone listened to how I wanted it. Nothing went the way I wanted it to. I was so angry I threatened never to marry her father, and never ever to give her his last name. When I hadn't dilated past 3 cms after over 24 hours of labor I overheard them discussing the possibility of a C-section. And I told them right then and there that if they were going to cut into my stomach after all of this then they might as well just go ahead and tie my tubes while they were in there. They had apparently heard this before and followed routine procedure.

They asked Damon if HE'D like them to give me an epidural.

Blissfully tanked out of my gourd, I drunkenly proceeded to council the lady screaming in agony behind the curtain next to us not to be a martyr and to go for the epidural. Since she came in begging for one, but already 10 cmns dilated, I wasn't helping anyone in that department either.

Honestly though, anyone who dilates to 10 cms without knowing it and then delivers within two hours of mild cramping doesn't deserve pain relief. (You KNOW who you are, Laura, Cindy and Tracy and yes, I am so jealous. Although, Karen, delivering in the car doesn't count in this category; for that you deserve our sympathies - and a life-time supply of narcotic relief.)

Back to the pain. I did learn, after the first one, that it does end and that it ends in joy. But the first time you're going : when will it end? Will it get worse? Will I be able to stand it? Will I be strong enough - and good and worthy enough - to see this through and to do it well? How could I do this better? (Okay those last two might be just me, the result of having an overcritical father who also happens to be an ob/gyn.)

And I'm still there - in labor - trying to bring my daugher into the world. And it still hurts and I am still wondering if it will ever end. Or just get worse. And if I am strong enough to be able to stand it, good and worthy enough to deserve joy as an outcome. Or could I be doing something better? (Thanks Dad, for that last one.)

It's harder now that she can speak and resist andfight back. At least in the hospital we were working together.

Doesn't she understand that I am trying to help her? That I only want what's best for her? Why is SHE strapping me to the bed when I want to get up and do it my way?

I brought her into THIS world. Why does she now insist on creating her own?!

Life hurts. And brings us joy.

If someone would just give me an epidural until she's out of the house, please.

Don't Shoot The Dog (Third Grade Math, Part Two)

Just in case I came across as too grounded at the end of my last essay on third grade math. You know, a couple of bad months of homework stress, a life lesson learned, personal growth achieved, end of story type stuff. Like you need to read that self-congratulatory sugary nonsense.

I'm here to assure you that I really DO finally understand the metric system.

But also that 3 times 6 does NOT equal 19, nor does it equal 21, nor will it EVER equal 19 or 21 no matter how much you don't feel like doing the homework and no matter how much you are going to punish your mother for making you do it. Sigh.

I pulled out the wooden blocks to explain what TIMES actually means. Went through it from 3 times 1 to 3 times 2 all the way up to 3 times 6. I was really really really patient. Which just pissed Ryan off more because the whole point was that she knew darn well what 3 times 6 was, she was just going to make my life hell.


She ended up in her room and I ended up in on the phone with a friend, in tears.

And then I remembered what we used to tell owners when they brought their dogs to the behavioral clinic at vet school. I mean, these dogs were nuts. And the owners were desperate, desperate enough to spend hundreds of dollars and 6 to 8 hours of their time at the clinic asking for our advice. Why couldn't they get this dog to behave? What could they do better? Why could other people get their dogs to behave? What had they done wrong?

Sure - we had a couple of cases where we DID help the owners learn how to better work with their dogs. (Just like Ryan's teacher has taught me how to teach her math.) But for the most part, these dogs were nuts, and many were dangerous. And we repeatedly told the owners that this was NOT THEIR FAULT. Training, discipline - you know, nurture - works with 99 percent of dogs. They are pack animals; they WANT to follow you. Look at the idiots out there who don't know what the heck they are doing. And the kids - I mean the dogs - turn out fine.

For the most part, it is really hard to mess up. A little food. A lot of love. And the rest really takes care of itself. Good God, if it took a perfect parent to raise a child, we would be in serious trouble.

And so the vast majority of us muddle on with our imperfections - the family pets do fine. They DO learn to multiply eventually, and to read, and to behave.
But there are no easy answers for the ones that refuse to fit the mold. And it is really hard as the parent of a child who is NOT doing well, to watch the idiots around you doing just fine with theirs.

Karen Pryor is the author of a book on behavior, animal and human, called Don't Shoot The Dog. The basic premise as I recall from over fifteen years ago is that there are a number of solutions to dealing with behavioral problems, in this case a barking dog. Shooting the dog is one solution. But don't worry, there are others.

I don't know that there is a cut and dried answer to Ryan's schoolwork issues. The books all state the obvious - the stuff that would work in 90 percent of the cases. (I had a similar problem when Andrew wouldn't sleep through the night for two years. Since the stuff that worked in the overwhelming majority of the cases wasn't working, it was obviously my fault; I was doing something wrong.) The only simple answers come from mothers whose kids obviously don't have this problem; otherwise the answers wouldn't be so simple.

And so it does come down to how you deal with it from here on in after all.

The best answer came from my friend. Breathe deep. Really. Breathe deep. I know you want to kill her, she said, but just take it easy and take care of yourself. THIS IS NOT YOUR FAULT. This dog was just not meant to run with the pack.

And so my responsibility shifts - from taking the blame for my daughter's problems with her homework - to taking credit for dealing with it in a calm and loving manner. Forgiving her and moving on.

THIS IS NOT MY FAULT. But I really do wish she would sit and stay.