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On Saturday evening I went to a fundraising trivia night held for Miss S' kindergarten. Even before the evening started, as I was still introducing myself to the others on my table, the host came around asking ‘is there an IT person here?’
So amidst everything else, I got to discover that there was nothing wrong with the sound after all, but it helps if you turn the volume up on the amp, showed the presenters how to change the video presentation mode on a laptop, and diagnosed that the CD they were playing from was badly scratched.
And my table came second. Yay us.
Sunday, Miss A had a school friend over for a playdate. This is part of an ongoing project to help Miss A get over the biggest hurdle of being an introvert, and provide her opportunities to play with and get to know some of her peers, in a setting where she doesn't feel crowded out and ignored. We thought it went well enough: they decorated mini-muffins, they watched Loony Tunes and the Disney Robin Hood movie, they played in the park when the weather cleared up a bit.
Late last night, though... Mim and I had only been asleep for a short while when we were woken by sobbing and sniffling. Mim had given A some panadol before bed for a complaint of a sore ear and some decongestant for a runny nose, but this time she had a blocked nose, and was just plain miserable. To the point that rubbing vicks on her chest and letting her nose clear (and I could hear it clear) did nothing to lessen her gloom. And then the real reason for her distress. “K,” (the girl who had visited earlier), “doesn't like me, she won't play with me at school, she's always busy playing with other people... no-one ever plays with me...”
A is like her parents: she's an introvert. S is an extrovert; she'll happily make friends with anyone. A, on the other hand, is shyer, more reserved, more reticent. She doesn't like to put herself forward, and so can be easily left behind. Her teacher has said that she doesn't think there is a problem, as she works well with people in organised environments, such as class, or playdates, but in the playground is another question again. And it turns out that in the playground, A feels isolated and neglected and alone. We tried to convince her to try putting herself forward more, to ask people if she could play with them, but it's a hard slog. She's already in the mindset that they'll just say no anyway so there's no point asking, and I don't know that she could bear any rejections before success. She's so socially fragile that the first rejection would be confirmation that no-one wants to play with her, and be a reason to scupper any further attempts.
It's heart-breakingly hard. And it's a battle we can't fight for her, we can't even really help her with. We can give her all the advice we have to give, all the love we have, all the support in the world, but it all comes down to her self-confidence, versus the casual callousness of the schoolyard.
But besides that, her ear kept hurting. And she kept waking and crying. And we kept waking and trying to calm her. And eventually she ended up in our bed, taking over the entire middle, and keeping us awake with sniffling and elbows in the back.
She went to the doctor this morning, and it looks like she has an external ear infection. Antibiotics and painkillers, a day home from school, an afternoon nap, and I hope she is doing better tonight and tomorrow. Tomorrow especially, as after school she is rushing off to her second Girl Guides session, and after that rushing back to go to her school concert (where she and the rest of her class are to be munchkins, singing Ding Dong the Witch is Dead).
Ye gods, I hope I have enough energy.
But for someone who loves school and learning as much as A does, it was disturbing and sad that when she was informed that she would be staying home, her reaction was “Yay!”
She really is like her parents. Alas.
So amidst everything else, I got to discover that there was nothing wrong with the sound after all, but it helps if you turn the volume up on the amp, showed the presenters how to change the video presentation mode on a laptop, and diagnosed that the CD they were playing from was badly scratched.
And my table came second. Yay us.
Sunday, Miss A had a school friend over for a playdate. This is part of an ongoing project to help Miss A get over the biggest hurdle of being an introvert, and provide her opportunities to play with and get to know some of her peers, in a setting where she doesn't feel crowded out and ignored. We thought it went well enough: they decorated mini-muffins, they watched Loony Tunes and the Disney Robin Hood movie, they played in the park when the weather cleared up a bit.
Late last night, though... Mim and I had only been asleep for a short while when we were woken by sobbing and sniffling. Mim had given A some panadol before bed for a complaint of a sore ear and some decongestant for a runny nose, but this time she had a blocked nose, and was just plain miserable. To the point that rubbing vicks on her chest and letting her nose clear (and I could hear it clear) did nothing to lessen her gloom. And then the real reason for her distress. “K,” (the girl who had visited earlier), “doesn't like me, she won't play with me at school, she's always busy playing with other people... no-one ever plays with me...”
A is like her parents: she's an introvert. S is an extrovert; she'll happily make friends with anyone. A, on the other hand, is shyer, more reserved, more reticent. She doesn't like to put herself forward, and so can be easily left behind. Her teacher has said that she doesn't think there is a problem, as she works well with people in organised environments, such as class, or playdates, but in the playground is another question again. And it turns out that in the playground, A feels isolated and neglected and alone. We tried to convince her to try putting herself forward more, to ask people if she could play with them, but it's a hard slog. She's already in the mindset that they'll just say no anyway so there's no point asking, and I don't know that she could bear any rejections before success. She's so socially fragile that the first rejection would be confirmation that no-one wants to play with her, and be a reason to scupper any further attempts.
It's heart-breakingly hard. And it's a battle we can't fight for her, we can't even really help her with. We can give her all the advice we have to give, all the love we have, all the support in the world, but it all comes down to her self-confidence, versus the casual callousness of the schoolyard.
But besides that, her ear kept hurting. And she kept waking and crying. And we kept waking and trying to calm her. And eventually she ended up in our bed, taking over the entire middle, and keeping us awake with sniffling and elbows in the back.
She went to the doctor this morning, and it looks like she has an external ear infection. Antibiotics and painkillers, a day home from school, an afternoon nap, and I hope she is doing better tonight and tomorrow. Tomorrow especially, as after school she is rushing off to her second Girl Guides session, and after that rushing back to go to her school concert (where she and the rest of her class are to be munchkins, singing Ding Dong the Witch is Dead).
Ye gods, I hope I have enough energy.
But for someone who loves school and learning as much as A does, it was disturbing and sad that when she was informed that she would be staying home, her reaction was “Yay!”
She really is like her parents. Alas.