It’s cold. It’s dark. Getting out from under the warm blankets is more difficult. You have no motivation. It’s the winter blahs. Or is it? Maybe it’s something more. Maybe you’re really fighting depression.

What is depression?

“Depression may be described as feeling sad, blue, unhappy, miserable, or down in the dumps. Most of us feel this way at one time or another for short periods.

Clinical depression is a mood disorder in which feelings of sadness, loss, anger, or frustration interfere with everyday life for a longer period of time.”

(from the U.S. National Library of Medicine)

Depression has many different faces including: minor depression, major depression, atypical depression, dysthymia, postpartum depression, bipolar disorder, and more. Each one is slightly different, varying in severity as well as the optimal methods for treatment.

Symptoms can include:

• Low mood or irritability
• A loss of pleasure in usual activities
• Trouble sleeping or sleeping too much
• Major change in appetite or weight
• No energy
• Feeling worthlessness, self-hate, and guilt
• Trouble concentrating
• Hopeless or helplessness
• Repeated thoughts of death or suicide

I was diagnosed with dysthymia about three years ago. I’d been running in denial for many years. I’d probably been paralyzed by depression since I was a teenager. The stigma in the Church of taking medication for depression terrified me. The fear of others finding out that I, a staff member and leader in the church, was depressed kept me in hiding.

This is what depression looked like for me:

Always feeling a little “lower” than those around me. Even when I’m excited, I don’t look like people think an excited person should look. I’m not necessarily unhappy, I just don’t have the same highs as others do and when I have a “low” period, it is lower than the average person.

Hiding in sleep. I require a decent amount of sleep – at least 8 hours a night to function well – but this goes beyond that. This teams up with exhaustion and makes me want to sleep all the time. I also have PCOD and part of that is a hormone imbalance that further complicates this symptom. When I don’t know what to do and feel overwhelmed, I sleep.

Difficulty focusing. I think this one has become worse over the years, even when my dysthymia is well managed. Maybe that’s living in a house with a bunch of off-the-wall boys? When my dysthymia is not in check, I’m all over the place and can’t complete anything.

Feeling like I can’t do anything right and feelings of hopelessness and helplessness. I give up and stop even trying to complete anything or focus on anything.

Easily becoming mad at myself and feeling easily frustrated and uncontrollably irritable.

Feeling anxiety, irrational fears, and worry.

When my depression is under control, these things don’t magically disappear, but I can handle them. These symptoms are greatly lessened and manageable. They no longer throw me into a tailspin. For me, medication is the best treatment. For others, there are natural remedies that can help.

If you’re struggling this winter, know that you’re not alone. Make sure that whatever blahs you’re experiencing this winter are not a sign of something much bigger. You don’t need to be ashamed. Please seek help from your doctor, a counselor, or pastor. There is help.

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 ESV

God doesn’t always take afflictions away from us immediately; more often He seems to choose to walk through it with us. Paul tells us in that passage that God comforts us so we can comfort others. If you’ve faced your depression, comfort others by sharing your story and creating a safe place to deal with depression.

Amanda is a former church communications director turned homeschooling mom. She’s now using her BA in Bible and MA in Old Testament Studies to nurture and disciple her two boys with the help and support of her high school sweetheart and husband, Josh. She’s venturing into the world of Kindergarten with her oldest son this year using Sonlight as her base curriculum. She blogs about life, motherhood, homeschooling, technology, faith, books, and more at ThePelsers.com. You can follow her on Twitter at @apelser.

While enjoying a nice lunch at the Japanese restaurant we were recalling that it once used to be a Blockbuster video store. It had been remodeled so well that it was hard to remember the building in its original state. An old dingy video store was completely transformed into a Japanese Steakhouse haven. The old and dingy was turned to bright and beautiful–truly two worlds apart.

Upon reflecting this great design my husband states, “I would love to redesign our basement like this.” He was implying the abstract thought of changing what is now to what glory it could be like the video store turned into a nicely done restaurant. But my child immediately spoke and said, “No you cannot!”

We let her explain further and she exclaimed, “You cannot cook in the basement!”

My sweet girl has a form of autism called aspergers. She lives in a very literal world. She could not break that thought down herself, it needed to be explained to her. She takes what is said at face value, meaning she believes what you say exactly as you say it. As I have been learning how to communicate with her more directly I have been noticing just how many clichés, idioms, and strange sayings we use in the English language.

Now imagine yourself taking these things very literally and how you would respond:

• Let’s hit the road. My daughter thinks I am telling her to physically hit the road with her hand. Makes sense right? Yet it means, let’s get going.

• Let’s just not rock the boat. My daughter’s reply to this would be, “but we are not on a boat.”

• Hold your horses! Again, the response would be, “but there are no horses to hold.” Simply you could just say please be patience.

I hope you are catching on. If you take these things in the most literal sense then you are thinking like someone with aspergers. These kinds of sayings are all around us. I am sure you probably use some of your own. The list goes on and on. The good thing is that I have been teaching these to her. This helps her understand our complex language. However she is not the only one who does not understand these sayings, I also have to teach these strange concepts to my English as a Second Language students.

However, I could ask a question like, “did anyone drink out of my cup?” My daughter would reply, “Yes.” Since we have had this cup for a while now most everyone has taken a drink out of it at some point in time. However, I wanted to know, “Has anyone taken a drink out of my cup today besides me?” Then it makes perfect sense and gets to the point of my question. The other people in my family know what I am asking but they are not literal in their thinking.

Another important thing I have learned is to say exactly what I mean. I often say, “Not now.” However my daughter is hearing an implication of that meaning later. It is like a promise of not this minute but later this thing will happen. Because of this she continually comes back to me to ask the same question after some time has passed. So instead of saying not now I must clearly say no. We will not do that today. Or we will do that at this time. I must be very clear. When I am clear it makes things much easier for us all.

I challenge you to pay attention as you speak and see how many of these strange concepts you either say or hear. It will probably amaze you. Then think about those who will not understand what you are saying to them. We must communicate clearly. With the numbers of people with autism on the rise it is something we should try to pay attention to so we can communicate more clearly with others. It takes changing things but when you want to show love to others this is one way to do it. After all we could all be clearer in the way we communicate with one another anyway.

Angela Parsley, of the international ministry Refresh My Soul Ministries, is a wife and homeschooling mother to her 2 young daughters. Angela is also a contributing author to a devotional book entitled, “Standing on the Promises of God” and Radical Revolution, a devotional site for teen girls through Proverbs 31 Ministries.

I am the mother of a beautiful 8-year-old little girl. She is bright, funny, intelligent, and an absolute joy to be around. It’s just her and me on our journey through life together, and she has been my true blessing. I look at her, my “Princess” and thank our wonderful Lord for this precious gift he has given me.

“Princess” was your average baby; she hit her milestones fairly on time, and had no real issues that I can recall. It wasn’t until she was about 4 that I started to notice certain little quirks.

The most prominent problem was she began to fear any sort of noise. Toilets flushing, vacuuming, loud voices, things that were a normal part of everyday life became an extreme source of fear for her. Things got so bad with the noise that she had to wear large earmuffs around the house in order for me to do my vacuuming. If we were out and happened to go into a bathroom with automatic toilets, she would automatically run the other way without even trying to use them. Her preschool teacher even mentioned to me some breakdowns in the class when the noise level got a bit too high.

I began to research her problems and kept coming to the same result: Sensory Processing Disorder. To average people, our bodies are able to regulate and process sensory stimuli easily. To someone with SPD, their bodies cannot process the sensory stimuli correctly. The more I read on the topic, the more convinced I became that this was when we were dealing with. Princess went when she was 5 years old to be evaluated for SPD by an occupational therapist. My suspicions about the noise were confirmed, but I also learned so much more.

Princess is auditory-defensive. She is super sensitive to sounds and can easily go into meltdowns if she is around bothersome noises. She is also tactile-defensive. She hates to get her hands sticky or dirty. The slightest bit of stickiness is so uncomfortable for her and sends her running to the sink. Princess has marked small-motor and fine-motor skills. Writing and cutting skills are delayed because of this. She also had other problems such as poor body awareness, and delays in her tummy muscles. Princess was started on regular occupational therapy appointments to address these problems, and things got better for a while.

She did well in kindergarten. There were only 6 kids in her class, and 2 teachers. Her teacher was so fantastic! She was totally understanding of Princess’s problems and accommodated her very well. As we were nearing first grade, I was beginning to get concerned with Princess having to transition from her half-day little class, to all day school with a lot more kids in the class and a lot more noise. I asked her school about getting her some occupational therapy at school and was told she would need to be tested academically before they would give her therapy in school. Princess was tested, and since she tested academically proficient, I was told by her school that they could not help her.

First grade rolled around, and as I feared, Princess was a wreck. She would come home in tears about the noise and tell me she hated school and that it was way too noisy for her. Everyday was a battle for her, and each day she would get worse. She was extremely exhausted from dealing with school. I can remember dropping her off at school in the mornings. All the children would meet on the playground in the mornings before school started. Instead of joining in and playing, she clung to me sobbing hysterically. I questioned her teacher, and was told again, that she was keeping up with the schoolwork, so she was fine, no problems at all.

I prayed about what to do about my little girl. It was killing me to see her so miserable. I started thinking about homeschooling and praying about it. Could I really do it? Was this the right choice? I began to research it, and started to become more convinced that this was what we needed to do. I felt like this was what God was leading us to; it was just a matter of withdrawing her from public school and beginning.

Starting was scary! I had no idea what to do or what curriculum to order. I talked with people, met other homeschoolers, and slowly began to realize, Hey, I can do this.

Princess and I are now in our third year of homeschooling. Since being at home, her auditory defensiveness is nowhere near as much as a problem as it was. If she is around something that bothers her, she has learned to regulate herself by going into another room for a couple minutes, or simply telling me that she’s had enough. Her stress level has gone way down, and she is thriving academically.

Recently, Princess was diagnosed with a mild case of Attention Deficit Disorder. It has been ok though, because like her SPD, Princess has learned to deal with her inattention too. If she has to sit for an extended period of time, she’ll grab her fidget toys to help get her through. I also break her work down into short increments and then give her breaks in between so she can get up and release some of that energy.

I will never regret my decision to homeschool my daughter. Although she has Sensory Processing Disorder and Attention Deficit Disorder, I know the decision to bring her home was the right one. She has learned how special God has made her, and has learned how she can help herself cope with her problems.

Princess loves reading anything she can get her hands on. She is interested in animals, learning about the Great Depression, and loves Laura Ingalls Wilder. Besides reading, her favorite subject is math.

Colleen Sherlock is a homeschooling mom of an 8 year old daughter with some special needs. She lives in New Hampshire with her daughter and they are currently in their third year of homeschooling. Colleen enjoys reading, spending time with the Lord, and blogging. You can find her blog at Sparkly Things and Fairy Wings.

Have you ever been baffled or surprised by something your child says? You may be certain that you heard the words correctly, but they don’t make sense. Having children with learning struggles, I often found that I needed to clarify both what I said to my children and what they were communicating to me. With a combination of ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) and auditory processing difficulties, communication was often a challenge. First, I had to obtain and keep my child’s attention long enough to convey a message. Then I had to determine if the message had been accurately received. If distractibility and impulsivity didn’t interfere, we could have a good conversation.

Children with learning disabilities often have unusual ways of expressing themselves. My son Josh had some word finding difficulties, so he would refer to the ankle as “that wrist part of your leg.”  Likewise, the elbow might be “the knee of your arm.” Once when Josh wasn’t feeling well I asked him to describe his symptoms. He often used vague and nebulous words to tell me what he felt. I felt like a detective who needed to ask just the right questions to get my suspect to tell me what I needed to know.

One time, though, Josh told me his throat was sore and described what he was feeling in this way, “I feel as if my uvula has been acided off.” (I like the “uvula” part – true son of a speech therapist!) This description, although no doubt atypical for most children, painted a clear picture of the location and degree of Josh’s discomfort, and it turned out that Josh had strep throat. “Acided” may not be a real word, but it sure got the point across. Josh usually sailed through illnesses with little response to pain, so when he complained I knew it was serious.

When children are infants, we fret because they are not able to tell us what is wrong or where they hurt. We think how nice it will be when they are able to talk and tell us more exactly what they feel. If a child is a late talker, nonverbal, or has difficulty with expressive language, we have to continue interpreting possible meanings to whatever communication attempts our child is able to produce.

My daughter Beckie was a big talker, and it was easy to tell that when she wanted “lunch fries” she meant “french fries” and that her “Valentime” was a “Valentine.” Since she had auditory processing issues, she said things the way she heard them and I continued in my role as communication detective to determine what Beckie was trying to convey. This was somewhat complicated by the fact that Beckie chattered a lot and was not always looking for a response but rather was processing her experiences by speaking out loud.

When she was a preschooler I noticed a frequently occurring phrase, “I need eleven!” Eleven what? I tried to figure out if she was trying to practice her counting skills, trying to collect something, or was just repeating something she had heard. But where had she heard it? Beckie was always a cuddle bunny, and was frequently snuggled up in my lap while we read books or talked. I tried to become aware of the context when she “needed eleven,” but couldn’t narrow it down. She said it contentedly when she was climbing onto my lap or getting a hug. She said it when she was physically hurt and when her feelings were hurt. When I asked her if she wanted to count to eleven together, she happily replied in the negative and wrapped her arms around me for a tight squeeze.

One day Beckie had been visiting one of her best friends for a play date, and I went to pick her up. She and her friend were sad to have to part ways, and the other child’s mother offered comfort by asking her son if he needed a lovin’. I realized that “Do you need a lovin?” was a common phrase in that household, and in Beckie’s young mind had been translated into “Do you need eleven?” It had nothing to do with numbers, but had a strong connotation to comfort and the expression of affection. Since I had responded in ways she needed despite my lack of understanding about what she was saying, Beckie was inadvertently effective in her communication with me.

This is just one more reminder that love can make up for so many things. We all make mistakes with our children. We realize after the fact that we erred in our approach to teaching some students. We feel the pressures to convey the right amount of information at the right times while helping our struggling students develop skills to help them be successful. Our curriculum isn’t always a match for what we need. Our children may not be progressing at the rate we desire. We lose it. We yell, we apologize, and then catch ourselves being impatient again. We feel inadequate to meet all the needs we face on a daily basis. The stakes are so high.

You’ve heard it before but it bears repeating. What our children will remember the most is the relationship we have with them, not the specific things we deliberately taught or the strategies we used to help them learn. I blew it with my kids sometimes, and I knew it. I truly believe that my relationship with them is more important than any school subject and thus needed remediation before we could proceed with our official homeschooling. I find it very humbling, yet restorative, to apologize to my children when I have wronged them. They have always been very forgiving and amazingly resilient, a picture of God’s grace to me.

Showing grace and respect runs both ways in a relationship. It builds character and will outlast the school years as a child grows into an adult. Have you been focusing so much on getting the school work done that you’ve lost sight of the importance of relationship? Don’t let standards and benchmarks keep you from seeing the individual child who is right in front of you. Teaching a child is a great aspiration, and teaching in the context of a relationship is powerful. Children may not remember everything you’ve taught them, but they will remember you. Do you have the kind of relationship you want to become part of their lifelong memories? Let’s give our children lots of “elevens” and protect our relationships as they grow.

Melinda Boring has been married to Scott for 25 years and has three homeschooled children. Her 22 yr. old son and 21 yr. old daughter graduated from home school in 2006, leaving Melinda an “empty desker” of two along with her 17 year old daughter who will graduate in 2011. Two of her children and her husband have been diagnosed with AD/HD. The children also deal with auditory processing disorders and sensory processing challenges. The name “Boring” just doesn’t fit this family, and Melinda shares many humorous moments in her speaking and writing endeavors. Melinda is the author of Heads Up Helping and has been a contributing author to multiple publications. She is a workshop presenter with a passion for helping struggling learners and providing practical strategies, compassion, and understanding for those with special needs. Melinda is also a speech/language pathologist with over 25 years experience and the owner of Heads Up, a company with products for those who learn differently. You can find her blog at the Heads Up website, where she writes as “Heads Up Mom”.

Before my son was diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD) I had a very hard time seeing past his supposed behavior problems. Once those issues were pointed out and we started working on them, I was able to see my son in a new light. I saw that he was actually quite an intelligent child, once he was able to focus. I began looking into gifted children and discovered that my son seemed to fit the profile. Everything about his personality, frustrations and even the SPD pointed towards gifted.

I decided to talk with his preschool teacher and the occupational therapist about my suspicions and they agreed with me. Great! Great? Not so great. I had a new decision to make. In another lifetime I was tested for gifted in first grade. I had been bored in Kindergarten and wasn’t doing my work because it was too easy and I didn’t want to.  My teacher suggested to my parents that I might be gifted. I was an early reader. I believe I was reading around three or four.  My parents agreed to the testing and I tested as officially gifted. My parents had a decision to make. The school wanted to promote me one grade ahead, my parents weren’t so sure. In the end they decided not to promote me. Instead they gave my teacher permission to challenge me with extra work in the areas I was gifted.

Flash forward to 2011 and I was making the same decision. I had to decide if I wanted to start with first grade or stick with Kindergarten and challenge my son. I prayed about it and looked at the first grade lessons.  I bounced my ideas off some more seasoned homeschoolers. And in the end I made the same choice that my parents made for me. I decided that we would just work through the lessons until we were done. If we finished before the “school year” was over then we’d move on to first grade. If we didn’t, we didn’t. That’s the wonderful thing about homeschooling. No matter where your child is in their learning adventures you can adapt your plans to meet those needs. I’m excited to work through these lessons with my son. And even more excited to start looking for what will work with my youngest son.

LaToya Edwards is a homeschooling, single mom of two beautifully busy boys, one that has been diagnosed with SPD. She has a bachelor’s degree in Early Childhood Development, will soon have her law degree and aspires to run her own adoption agency in the future. She is a very busy woman, but wouldn’t have it any other way. She’s loves music, poetry and reading fiction stories. But mostly she just loves spending time with her boys. LaToya get real over at Christian Momma, where she blogs about the struggle and journey of being a single christian woman and mom.

I have a secret passion for gifted studies. I’ve always been fascinated by the brain and education, but standing in a Barnes & Noble one day about ten years ago, waiting for my husband who was about to meet me for lunch, I found a coffee table book about giftedness. Having grown up in gifted programs, I’ve always been drawn to books on giftedness, as if it’s evidence of a secret club I once belonged to as a kid. You see, gifted programs end with high school, sometimes before, like the tree houses that say, “No girls allowed.” So evidence that it really did exist—this haven where there were others like me—is nostalgic. It’s nice.

But what I read in that coffee table book—hardly a deep analysis of giftedness—has changed my life. I knew that giftedness meant that I went to a special class like the special needs kids. I knew I went because I was smart in some kind of off-kilter way: I’d started school early and was always bored, but I was hardly the highest achiever in the class.

Beyond that, no one ever told me what it meant, this “gift.” We did logic puzzles once a week and extra work when we got back to the classroom. I loved it because it was a place I felt understood, and so it was worth the extra work, but other kids thought we were crazy to volunteer for such torture.

The book I skimmed at Barnes & Noble that day brought me to tears. On every page, it described every failure of my life in acute detail, as if it were an art book instead of a brag book for parents. This book knew already that it would take me seven years to finish my BA after transferring back and forth between nine schools and more majors than I can count. Instead of calling me a quitter, as my college guidance counselor did, it said I could do anything and was interested in everything. The book made it sound not so bad.

It described the way I would approach projects—with the vision and gusto of a person with clinical OCD—as if it had been there when I tried to paint the 8’x12’ mural of a street scene in France onto fabric for curtains for a closet in a single day, when I tried to build a life-size model of the Eiffel tower for an informational booth at church, when I decided my first sewing project would be an evening gown for a Christmas party the week of Calculus finals when I was nine months pregnant with my first baby.

And then it described the late nights and tears when my grand visions were realized for what they were: more failures, more lofty dreams. Dresses hemmed in duct tape, informational booths that everyone passes by, unfinished curtains and carpet stained in blue paint.

This book had seen inside my closet, too—all the unfinished projects, all the hobbies I have to maintain to keep the world more interesting. It knew that the world moved too slowly for me, that I hurt people with my impatience. But the book forgave me, because it knew that I was impatient with myself most of all.

The book knew that what I experience on the inside looks more like bipolar disorder than any kind of “gift”—there are the days when I can do anything, when I believe in my writing and my art and the education I am giving my kids. And there are the dark days. The book knew the statistics for suicide that I had always thought were just me.

The book knew that when I graduated from the gifted program and was thrust into real life, the odds were against me. It predicted the joblessness, frustration, and guilt, but it offered no advice. The book was written to parents. And so I stood in Barnes & Noble and tried not to cry. If only I had been told what the obstacles would be, I could have faced them better instead of being eaten up by the shame.

Because of that book, whose name I don’t remember now—but I’m sure it’s far from the best book available on giftedness—I earned a master’s degree in two years, without changing majors or schools or adding on half a dozen minors. That degree has turned out to be almost as unprofitable as a liberal arts degree, but it represents a victory over myself, over my dark side. It’s a sign of normalcy that I can waive like a flag, even though my very self was the cost of that flag and lies buried beneath it.

The degree is in Education and was obtained so that I would never be unemployed again, a double whammy for a homeschooling mother in an economy that has put all of the local schools on a hiring freeze. I’d dreamed of an MFA in Creative Writing and a PhD in Literature so that I could hide in an ivory tower and think beautiful thoughts. Equally useless, perhaps, but if I’d known that that would be the case, I would have chosen the more beautiful path. Life is full of false starts for me, although I expect to have it figured out by the time my hair has lost its natural color.

But I told you that my passion for giftedness is secret. I have rarely told even a friend that I fall into these ranks, much less internet strangers, because I know the dissension wrapped around the word. People think that those who are gifted brag about this glamorous state or that their parents brag about them. They think that “giftedness” is an indictment of the rest of the world, that it is nothing more than academic prowess. In fact, giftedness does not always even mean success in school, and in practice, it looks much more like something one would medicate to make it go away rather than something someone would embrace, much less announce. One is more likely to look around for a limb to sever, another part to bury so that she a few more moments with the Normalcy flag for a party or other social obligation—anything big enough to hide the truth.

Tonight I am longing for the OCD eyes to give way so I can sleep, but instead I am sitting at my computer at 2:30 in the morning, surrounded by books and papers and filled with the irony of ideas and creativity and grief, wondering again if I can bury myself beneath a flag of normalcy or if the sacrifice is ever worth it.

Aubrey Lively is a homeschooling mama with a loud one-room classroom filled with four children, aged ten to two. She likes a Saturday morning with her husband and his guitar, a good cup of coffee, and a fresh sheet of paper. She has a BA in Literature and a MEd in Teaching, but more importantly, she thinks outside the box. (She believes the box is a conspiracy.) Visit Aubrey online at http://aubreylively.blogspot.com.

When Your Child’s Illness has Caused More Sick Days than School Days

If your child has a serious or chronic illness (like congenital heart defects, leukemia, or severe asthma), when or if you should end the school year can be a major dilemma.  Maybe you’re looking back over your year and remembering all of the sick days that interfered with school.  Or maybe you are panicking because you realize you’re only on week 16 of your 36 week curriculum.  Whatever the cause, you are now wrestling with the idea of continuing school throughout the summer.

Before we talk about how to make the best decision for your family, there are some things I think God wants you to know:

You are the perfect Mom for your child

He knew that you were the right one to mother His precious child.  He knew you would love, teach, nurture, and advocate for this little one.

Don’t under estimate the incredible life and academic lessons your child is learning through his or her illness

My son, Seth, had his second open heart surgery at the age of 11.  It was a difficult, but it was also full of many beautiful life lessons.  (Lessons we’ve looked back on as we talk about a variety of events in Seth’s life.)  As part of his recovery, he had to walk the hospital halls.  Hunched over from pain and the desire to protect his chest, he still managed to encourage new parents whose babies were also recovering from open heart.  He gave them hope in a way, frankly, I couldn’t understand.  You may not even be aware of how your child has touched others.  Take the time to think about the impact your child has in their world.  These children tend to bless people with compassion and hope – precious gifts that our world desperately needs.

Because of his heart defects, my son has been able to see some amazing technology.  I’m actually carrying pictures of his heart from the latest echo-cardiogram (much like an ultrasound) in my purse right now.  It’s amazing to be able to see what his heart looks like and compare it to what a “normal” heart looks.  Real life science!  What technology has your child been able to see in action?  What parts of the human body are they becoming experts in understanding?  It’s also been my experience that as soon as we mention homeschooling, nurses and doctors instantly become teachers.  They love sharing their knowledge!

You’re not doing this alone

He wants you to yoke yourself to Him and let Him do the heavy work (referring to Matthew 11:29-30).

Why do I think He wants you to know those things – or be reminded of them?  It’s very simple.  He loves you and wants to carry your burden so that you can homeschool with joy and peace – not fear.  Fear is not His thing.  “The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly,” (John 10:10, New King James Version).

The next step in the decision making process is to pray – yoke yourself to Him.  I encourage you to pray about your worries and concerns.  I also encourage you to pray about your homeschool goals.  What are God’s goals for your child?  Do your goals match up with His?  Consider the gifts He has given them, along with their weakness.  Let Him lead you in making appropriate goals just right for your child given their special unique needs.

If you are married, this is a great time to discuss goals with your spouse.  My husband has surprised me with a higher concern for our son’s character than academics.  I was surprised because I can so easily get caught up in academic progress, especially how Seth might compare to peers.  My husband’s perspective relieved a lot of the stress I had been putting on our son and myself.

Now, for some nitty-gritty soul searching.  Spend time thinking and praying about why you want to extend your school year.  Get to the root of your “why”.  If you find that your reason, and the idea, of an extended year gives you peace, you know that it’s a good idea straight from God.  If, however, you find fear and panic at the root of your reasoning, you know that you’ve discovered an issue that needs God’s help – not more school.  Fear comes from the thief and should never be our driving force behind how and why we homeschool.

I hope that if you do find fear or panic in your desire to extend your homeschool’s year, that you will do the very opposite.  Pull back from school.  Spend more time with God.  Enjoy your child.  Even the *perfect* mom for this enormous, God-given job needs to renew her spirits every once in a while.

Kimberly has been happily married to her best friend, Randy, for over 15 years.  Together, they homeschool their 12 year old son, Seth.   She received her bachelor’s degree in Mental Disabilities: Moderate, Severe and Profound from the University of Northern Iowa, and taught Special Education for 4 years before becoming a stay at home Mommy – her absolute favorite “job” ever!  Kimberly is also a Christian writer and speaker whose heart is to encourage Mom’s, like her, with children who have serious illnesses.  You can find her at www.kimberlyehlers.com.

When I heard the words “My ball died” coming out of the mouth of a preschool boy I was seeing for speech therapy, I tried not to show alarm. “Tommy” didn’t seem to be too upset, but he was clearly trying to tell me about something that mattered to him. I had not heard of any recent loss in this boy’s life, but then again I only saw him once a week for speech therapy and didn’t know about every single person in his life.

I wanted to be compassionate and allow him to talk about what was on his mind. Tommy already had a very hard time expressing himself due to speech articulation (pronunciation) errors. Even to those familiar with Tommy’s speech patterns, his speech intelligibility was poor. When I repeated his words back to him for clarification, he responded vigorously with head shakes and repeated insistently, “No. My ball died.”

Some children, when hearing their incorrect speech production repeated back to them, will recognize that what they are saying does not match the message they are trying to convey. As a result, some children will alter how they are pronouncing words in order to increase their intelligibility. Tommy was not one of those children. He kept saying the same thing in exactly the same way, over and over again with no change.

Tommy still did not appear distressed, but was making eye contact and eagerly awaiting my response. As a speech therapist, I have been asked how to respond when you just don’t understand what a child is trying to say. I think the correct response is usually dependent on the situation. If the child is just chatting to make a connection with another person, then it may be more critical to be responsive and caring than to determine exactly what has been said. Sometimes asking the child “Can you show me?” helps him use nonverbal means to get his meaning across. This is limited to messages that can actually be pointed out or demonstrated though, so much of the time it isn’t a very effective strategy.

The strategy of pretending to understand the child can backfire, because you may be consenting to something you don’t intend to or the child may try to continue the conversation and sooner or later the fact that you are faking comprehension will become obvious. Could this affect your relationship with the child?

Another option when a child is clearly trying to convey a message to you is to begin asking questions to see if you can narrow down the possible topics the child is talking about. Even with barely intelligible children, knowing the context of what they are talking about makes it easier to discern what they are attempting to say.

In Tommy’s case, I started by asking him if someone in his family had died. Tommy looked uncertain, so I started naming possibilities by using yes/no questions since Tommy was able to respond accurately to them. “Did your grandpa die?” “Did your dog die?” and so on. Tommy continued to shake his head “no”.

When this line of questioning led nowhere, I tried asking about his toys. “Did you lose a ball?” “Did something happen to your ball?” Again I was met with repeated head shakes and the verbal assertion, always pronounced exactly the same way, “My ball died.”

Tommy wasn’t giving up on me, but continued to make eye contact with a hopeful expression on his face. I was feeling more and more inadequate to help this sweet child who apparently had some kind of loss to grieve. Through the open window of the room we were using for speech therapy, we could hear the sounds of children playing. Following a particularly loud vocal outburst from one of the children outside, Tommy cocked his head, grinned, and happily pronounced, “My ball died!”

He certainly didn’t look upset about a death, but instead looked at me in triumph as if he had just proven a point. Given the context, the words, and Tommy’s speech sound error pattern, things began to fall into place. Hesitantly, I asked another question, “Is your brother outside?” Tommy responded with enthusiastic head nods, repeating once again with a look of utter satisfaction, “My ball died!”

Okay. So no one died and nothing was lost or irreparably damaged. What a relief! For whatever reason, it was very important to Tommy that I acknowledged that his brother was outside. Although it had to be frustrating for him when he couldn’t quickly or easily convey his message, he was eventually rewarded for his persistence and I was relieved to discover that in fact, no ball had actually died.

Melinda Boring has been married to Scott for 25 years and has three homeschooled children. Her 22 yr. old son and 21 yr. old daughter graduated from home school in 2006, leaving Melinda an “empty desker” of two along with her 17 year old daughter who will graduate in 2011. Two of her children and her husband have been diagnosed with AD/HD. The children also deal with auditory processing disorders and sensory processing challenges. The name “Boring” just doesn’t fit this family, and Melinda shares many humorous moments in her speaking and writing endeavors. Melinda is the author of Heads Up Helping and has been a contributing author to multiple publications. She is a workshop presenter with a passion for helping struggling learners and providing practical strategies, compassion, and understanding for those with special needs. Melinda is also a speech/language pathologist with over 25 years experience and the owner of Heads Up, a company with products for those who learn differently. You can find her blog at the Heads Up website, where she writes as “Heads Up Mom”.

My most recent post dealt with coping with perfectionism.  Perfectionism has its good points, but unless you can control it, it can rapidly become paralyzing and debilitating.  It is hard enough to deal with perfectionism as an adult when you have an idea of why you are experiencing the things you are and have also managed to acquire the life skills necessary to manage it, at least to some degree.  For perfectionist children, though, life can be very difficult absent some insight and direction.

What is perfectionism exactly? How does it manifest in children? Perfectionist children have unreasonably high expectations of themselves, tend to be self-critical and easily embarrassed, are highly sensitive to criticism, and may very well be accomplished procrastinators.  In fact, if a parent does not have experience with perfectionism herself, she may very well think her child is simply lazy and way too sensitive.

Some children with perfectionist tendencies survive childhood quite well.  They become class valedictorian, science fair champ, debate winner, or, sometimes, quarterback.  These are the children who are able to channel their perfectionist tendencies into their academic and sporting pursuits.  By setting high goals, they force themselves to excel.  As long as these children understand that they won’t always be able to reach the goals they set for themselves, and that failure *is* an option and, in fact, is an inevitability, their perfectionism works for them.  What about the other end of the perfectionist spectrum, though?

Sometimes perfectionism only serves to paralyze a child. Fear of failure, academic, social, or athletic, can prevent them from even attempting to achieve their goals.  Gifted children who underachieve often fall into this category.  It’s not at all that they are incapable of doing the work assigned, but they often won’t even attempt the assignment because of a fear of not meeting certain standards – their own.  In these cases, gifted children may remain completely unchallenged as parents or teachers give them assignments that don’t challenge them at all.

Not challenging a child who suffers perfectionist tendencies, particularly a gifted child, is an inappropriate response to perfectionism.  After all, the goal is to help your child learn to live with perfectionism; skirting the issue doesn’t accomplish that goal.  The best thing you can do for your little perfectionist is to model appropriate behavior.  When you don’t measure up, when you don’t perform according to your own expectations, when you make a mistake, don’t berate yourself or decry your inexcusable lapses.  Rather, forgive yourself for your shortcomings.  Let your child see that making mistakes and falling short are normal and acceptable behaviors.

School is often a major stumbling block for perfectionist children.  Rather than just capitulating and giving your child less or easier work than you know he is capable of, consider some of the following options:

Abandon number grades in favor of either letter grades or another, less specific, grading system.  This makes it more difficult for your child to focus on the minutiae of his grade.  Instead, he can focus more on the overall worth of his work.  Real world example: when I was in school, our computer-calculated grades would only print two digits on our report cards.  Thus, my average may have been 102, but the report card would only show 99.  It pained me to no end not to see my overly-perfect grade printed out.  How much happier I was in college and graduate school when I just saw “A.” No more worries about how imperfect my A was!

If you have more than one child, don’t compare them! Few things are more painful to a perfectionist than a direct comparison to someone who “gets it right.” Always trying to chase an unattainable goal is soul-crushing for a perfectionist.  Again, I speak from experience.  My 15 months-older sister is brilliant.  She was the winner of everything, class valedictorian of whom I wrote earlier.  My parents didn’t actively compare us, but I sure did.  As hard as I worked, I was never as good as she was.  Gifted by all accounts, a high achiever in my own right, I only graduated in the top 6% of my class.  Ah, the language of the perfectionist! Most people in the top 10% just say “top 10%”, but I could still tell you how many people I would have had to knock out of the way to get into the top 5% (ahem, six).

Which leads me straight to, allow your children to develop their own niches and talents and encourage, encourage, encourage them in these ventures! One key feature of gifted children, and many perfectionists, is the single-minded pursuit of a particular activity.  Gaining confidence in this favorite area may very well help your child to gain confidence enough to attempt things in other areas – overcoming even that dreaded fear of failure.

Explain and teach goal setting to your children.  Model for them the difference between realistic and unrealistic goals.  Check in with them regularly to assess their progress and to adjust their goals if necessary.

Teach them the character traits of courage and perseverance.  Let them know that you understand what they are facing and that you respect their efforts to overcome their challenges.

Perfectionism can be crippling, but it can also be a tremendous asset. Not being satisfied with half-done work will serve your children well in later life.  In order to capitalize on the advantages of perfectionism, though, your child must learn how to make it work for him.  If you’ve seen perfectionist tendencies in your children, see if any of these suggestions help.  If you have other ideas, please feel free to share them!

Laura Delgado has been married to her husband, Henry, for 14 years. She gave birth to four children in exactly 40 months, but cheated since the last two were twins. She now happily homeschools her 8,6, and two 4 year-olds. She earned a Ph.D. in Political Science from Rice University, but finds that she uses her undergraduate Great Books education far more in her homeschooling pursuits. In addition to writing for various homeschooling publications, she creates educational materials for edHelper. For homeschooling helps and curriculum reviews, please visit her blogs at Living as Martha and Salve Regina Homeschool.

If you have a picky eater, you’ve probably heard comments such as “Don’t worry, she’ll eat when she’s hungry” or “All young children are picky eaters.” While these statements may be true of most typically-developing children, some kids take picky eating to the extreme and mealtimes are miserable for all involved. There are some children who can refuse foods indefinitely, long past the point when most would respond to hunger signals. Others eat such a limited number of food items that their diet is extremely restricted to just a few accepted foods. Some children insist on using the same plate and cup each time they eat. Many children with feeding aversions often resist even a change in the brand of foods they will eat. Is picky eating just a normal part of childhood? For some, it is far more than a developmental stage and can become a serious concern for the family.

A friend of mine went into a panic when she learned that the only brand of frozen waffles that her son would eat was being discontinued by the manufacturer. In desperation, she went to several stores to stock up on that particular brand of waffles while feeling anxious about what her son would eat when one of his regular, accepted foods was no longer available. This little guy had multiple allergies and would only eat a few different foods. His parents were obviously very worried about his nutrition, and the more they pushed their son to eat, the stronger the resistance they encountered. Mealtimes, which his parents had hoped would be an enjoyable time of togetherness, instead became a battleground fraught with stressful interactions.

Feeding aversions and extreme picky eating can have a number of underlying physical causes. A child who has been on a feeding tube may not have developed the muscle coordination needed for eating. They may have to be taught how to bite and chew foods. Without adequate feeding skills, children may resist foods that seem too challenging to them. Some children stuff their mouths with food or just mash food using the tongue instead of moving the food to the molars to chew. These children may experience gagging and choking, which can lead to avoidance of foods in the future. Swallowing large pieces of food can also lead to physical discomfort after meals.

Prematurity, allergies, aspiration, reflux, and other physical issues can all contribute to extreme food selectivity in children. Many children, such as those with autism spectrum disorders (ASD) or attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), have difficulties processing and regulating input, including the taste and textures of a variety of foods. Sensory processing dysfunction (SPD) can cause a child to become squeamish just at the sight or smell of certain foods. Some children will only tolerate foods with specific textures. Children with feeding aversions may eat chicken nuggets from a certain fast food restaurant but refuse chicken nuggets prepared at home. It is puzzling and frustrating when children refuse to eat or have strong reactions just at the mere sight of a food that they don’t typically consume.

One mother told me that her son’s feeding aversions made it difficult to go out to a restaurant or another family’s home for a meal. His limited repertoire of accepted foods left his devoted mother trying to explain to others about her son’s strong reactions to smells and textures of foods. She worried about his nutrition and was baffled by his refusal to try new foods. She tried strategies that worked with other children, but her son seemed impervious to them all.

When is it time to seek help for a picky eater? One indication is when a child consistently refuses food or only eats a limited number of foods. For example, a child who eats no fruits or vegetables is missing entire food groups and may have difficulty getting adequate nutrition. Some children do not drink enough fluids and are poorly hydrated. A child with repeated respiratory infections may be at risk for aspiration, with food or liquid entering the lungs. Over time, a child with feeding challenges may develop behavior problems related to eating such as crying and gagging when offered a meal or snack. When eating problems are interfering with a child’s health and family activities, it can be helpful to consult with a feeding specialist or feeding team.

A feeding team consists of a group of professionals with expertise in the various aspects of feeding and nutrition. It may include some or all of the following: primary care physician, dietitian, gastroenterologist, psychologist, speech/language pathologist, and occupational therapist. At a feeding clinic, the initial evaluation will gather information through a parent interview and observation of the child when presented with a variety of foods and drinks. These professionals work with the child and family to determine ways to meet nutritional needs and expand the child’s diet to include a greater variety of foods.

Feeding aversions and extreme picky eating are far more complicated than mere childhood whimsy. Feeding problems can interfere with a child’s health and affect the entire family. When every meal becomes an ordeal, there’s a problem. Treatment usually progresses slowly, but over time feeding aversions can be lessened, diet expanded, and health improved.

Melinda Boring has been married to Scott for 25 years and has three homeschooled children. Her 22 yr. old son and 21 yr. old daughter graduated from home school in 2006, leaving Melinda an “empty desker” of two along with her 17 year old daughter who will graduate in 2011. Two of her children and her husband have been diagnosed with AD/HD. The children also deal with auditory processing disorders and sensory processing challenges. The name “Boring” just doesn’t fit this family, and Melinda shares many humorous moments in her speaking and writing endeavors. Melinda is the author of Heads Up Helping and has been a contributing author to multiple publications. She is a workshop presenter with a passion for helping struggling learners and providing practical strategies, compassion, and understanding for those with special needs. Melinda is also a speech/language pathologist with over 25 years experience and the owner of Heads Up, a company with products for those who learn differently. You can find her blog at the Heads Up website, where she writes as “Heads Up Mom”.