Corona Questions

1.) If you won a million dollars, what would you buy?
Victor - 3,000 Snap Circuits and 3,000 Light Sabers and R2-D2 and BB-8 and C3-PO and a Battle Droid

Molly - Unlimited Starbucks coffees at the Starbucks that's being built down the street from our house

Mariana - Can I pay off my student loans and then with the extra $5 I'll put a down payment on a house.

Isaac - A bidet

2.) How long does it take to get to the U.K.?
Victor - probably like 6,000 hours. No by plane about 2 hours and by car about 16 hours. Or a boat. If you were traveling in an X-Wing by light speed it would only take 22 seconds.

Molly - 72 days by boat. It is my preferred means of transportation. Just call me Christopher Columbus.

Mariana - I'm guessing probably like 14-20 hours. By plane? Or swimming? Maybe more.

Isaac - Depends if you're digging under the ocean or going on a boat.

3.) What do I always say to you?
Victor - If you eat, I'll read. Ma always says, "All's well that ends well."

Molly - People just don't understand my humor.

Mariana - It's more what you don't say.

Isaac - I don't know.

4.) What job would you like to do when you grow up?
Victor - Inventor, Astronaut, and I want to work at Monkey Joe's so I can play the games and I want to work at Chuck E. Cheese.

Molly - I want to be a princess or a unicorn.

Victor - Ugh.

Mariana- Peter Pan because he doesn't grow up.

Isaac - Give me a second. Belly dancer.

5.) What is the capital of America?
Victor - South America?

Molly - She's still laughing from Victor's answer...Well, America is a continent. Do they have capitals? So...maybe Sweden?

Isaac - United States

Mariana - D.C.

6.) Where do babies come from?
Victor - Your vagina

Me - I wasn't expecting that

Molly - Doubled over... God

Me - Thank you, Molly.

Isaac - Victor went right to the point.

Mariana - Jesus

7.) At what age do you become an adult?
Victor - 20

Molly - Well, I'm 27 and I still don't feel like I'm an adult so...40?

Isaac - When you wield a sword

Mariana - In this house, 18, or when they fill your room with another child.

8.) If you could change one rule our family has, what would it be?
Victor - Every day no matter what we would go outside and go in the hot tub 

Molly - No one is allowed to be loud before 9AM

Mariana - Has right now or when I was growing up?

Isaac - Dragon Tails and SpongeBob

Mariana - A rule when I was a child...It's hard because they all made me who I am but if I had to change one it would be that you were never into last-minute friend dates but I am only a last-minute person.

9.) If you could be a superhero, what superpower would you have? 

Victor - Burp really loud to shake the whole world and shoot lightning out of my hands and laser beams out of my eyes and a light saber would activate out of a lightning force

Molly - The ability to take a 5 minute nap that gives you a full 8 hours of sleep in that 5 minute nap

Mariana - Fly, for sure, I've always wanted to do that. If I could fly places in NYC instead of train that would make my life so much easier.

Isaac - The ability to refill any olive oil container at will.

10.) What would you do to save the planet? 

Victor - I would get all the evil robots and throw them to the ground and shoot them with a lightning force then I would shoot them with fire then I would hit them so hard that they would blow up with flames then the rest of the bad guys would blow up because of the explosion

Molly - I would give everyone a puppy because that makes everyone happy. Or some type of animal that makes them happy because not everyone likes puppies and then they would all have a home.

Victor - And I would get all the stray animals and just teleport them to new homes

Isaac - Take the straws out of the turtles noses

Mariana - Everyone can hate me for this but I do not believe in fracking.

11.) If you could eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?
Victor - Fries and bread and pork and hashbrowns and I would also eat banana bread and cookies and Oreos and whipped cream and brownies and ice cream

Molly - Chicken nuggets and pizza and ice cream

Isaac - Grandma's apple pie or her molasses cookies

Mariana - Pizza

12.) How much does it cost to buy a house?
Victor - Ummmmmm, probably about $100. 

Molly - I would say 3 million dollars.

Victor - I think that would be way too expensive. People could not afford that. They would have to rob other people or I could get a money machine and get lots of dollars.

Mariana - Well, in this economy? Maybe $230,000.

Isaac - Well, if you're looking for a good deal, you can get a good deal on a house. You can get one for dirt cheap. Just ask the Kings.

13.) Why do you think we should be nice to others?
Victor - To be friends and if we weren't we would just be shooting each other and having a war.

Molly - So that way they can have their bucket filled.

Victor - Oh yeah.

Molly - And then they can go fill someone else's bucket then everyone will just be kind all the time.

Isaac - Because the look of surprise on their face when you're not nice to them is amazing.

Mariana - Because cancel-culture is real.

14.) What does love mean to you?
Victor - It means to be nice to someone and kind and caring and giving them presents.

Molly - Love means being kind when I don't want to be kind.

Isaac - Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy. It does not boast..... (Yes, he knew the whole thing)

Mariana - R-E-S-P-E-C-T

15.)What are you scared of?
Victor - Oh, I would be scared to be hit by lava and step on a landmine. And the snowman.

Molly - Mimes and clowns

Victor - And the dark because usually sometimes everything shuts off and I'm afraid because it's pitch black and I can't see anything and if I have to go to the bathroom and I run into something and I wake everyone up.

Mariana - Failure

Isaac - When Dad calls me on the phone to say, "Come here," and doesn't tell me why.

16.) What is important to you?
Victor - God

Victor - You can't beat me, Molly.

Molly - Jesus and my friends and family

Victor - See, that's a tie. And I also believe in the Holy Spirit and my friends and family. And all the people in Heaven like Linus.

Isaac - Humbleness

Mariana - R-E-S-P-E-C-T

The Corona sea parts

Mortals make elaborate plans, but God has the last word.

Humans are satisfied with whatever looks good; God probes for what is good.

Put God in charge of your work, then what you've planned will take place.

Proverbs 16:1-3 (MSG)

One morning in January, as I sat before God in silence, I very clearly heard instruction to pursue something totally out-of-character for me.  I spent the next half hour wrestling and crying, arguing with God that these marching orders couldn't possibly be for me.

I spent the next month talking to prayer partners, professionals, and of course, the Good Doctor. Go for it, they all said. Times with God continue to reinforce the direction.

So I took the next step, and the next, and the next. I was scared to death but after a lifetime of trusting His leading, ready to find my feet on the top of the waters, reminding myself to keep my eyes focused on my only lifeline.

And then I got a job. I was excited about this job - its enjoyable aspects and its flexibility for our family - but the timing seemed a little worrisome, starting the week before this other big leap of faith.

And then I watched in ever-widening circles of faith, as God parted the waters, removing all other distractions, time-consuming activities which I enjoyed but which were going to take precious time from the beginning of this new endeavor - the church was closed so no more interpreting or teaching, the college closed so no tours at the museum, a conference in Texas postponed til the fall... It began to feel, to my overwhelmed soul, what it must have also looked like to the Israelites to stand at the Red Sea and watch it miraculously part.

So this morning, to read, "Put God in charge of your work, then what you've planned will take place," demanded an emphatic, "Yes!" Just watch the sea part.

We survived Day 5

We survived Day 5 of Corona Shut-down. How did we do that? Play-doh making, spelling words, practicing, playing outside, more mulching and yardwork. Some college students who shall remain nameless are beginning to think that their father encouraged them to work from home for the sole purpose of gaining free labor.

Why do you think we had children, people?

Oh, and we also continued our reading of the Little House on the Prairie Series. I began it a few months ago with fear and trepidation. Mr. Victor has very clear opinions on "girl things" and "boy things". He will not enter The Pink Room because it's, well, pink...

And here we suspend our regularly planned blog for an explanation of the room and its name. A long time ago, we were like every other sensible family. We had "Mariana's Room" and "The Boys' Room" and "The Little Girls' Room". Even after we shifted things a time or two we still had "Eden's Room" and "The Boys' Room" and "Mary's Room" and "The College Boys' Room" and Hope's Room" and Victor's Room". But now that things have changed so many times, the older kids were confused as to where they were assigned when returning home. So they gave each room a name, like in a Bed and Breakfast. We have the "Springtime Room" due to its bright yellow theme and "The Pink Room" because one of its former inhabitants preferred that color. We have the "Art Studio" (guess who lives there?). Two rooms with a bit more history are now referred to as "The Holy (think: hole-y) Room" and "The Escape Room"... And now, back to our regularly scheduled blog post..


He will not use the pink stamper because it's also pink. You get the picture. I was afraid that a book with all female offspring would quickly be lumped into the "girl" category. But no, he loves the descriptive writings of Laura Ingalls. For someone who is visually impaired, she makes the difficulties of pioneer living come to life. He also loves the suspense of the escapades of Pa and Laura. And who knew, that at this point in history, while reading The Long Winter, we would find that we have so much in common with the Ingalls family?

Just last night we read in Chapter 15,

It was not worth while to get up in the morning...Another Corona day was roaring, screaming, and swishing around the house. There would be no school.

Everyone was sluggish and half awake. They would rather sleep than wake up to such a day. But Victor called, "Get out of bed! I need breakfast!"

Quickly, because of the cold and the virus and the fear of the 6 year old's wrath, Ma put on her dress and her shoes and followed him down the hallway...

"Now everyone," Ma said kindly. "You must not be so easily discouraged. A few viruses more or less can make no great difference. We will hurry and get the work done, then you can study...Nothing keeps you from learning."

"This is the worst yet, I do believe," Pa said while he held his stiff hands over the stove... "I'll go over to Fuller's right after breakfast and stock up on toilet paper, boxed mac and cheese, and Instant Ramen Noodles." He ate quickly and while he was putting on his wraps again Ma went upstairs to check the toilet paper supply and to remind all of the children to wear their face masks and gloves while keeping their hands under running water all day for maximum cleanliness."

The room was so crowded that Ma could hardly wash the dishes without bumping into someone. Then she unscrewed the lid from the last gallon of bottled water. The last clear drop poured out from the spout of the plastic jug...

Pa had not come back, but surely he could not be lost, in the grocery store...

"There's no toilet paper at the lumberyard," he went on. "People burned through so much in this nasty virus and Aldi's didn't have much on hand. He's selling newspapers to wipe with instead at fifty dollars a thousand sheets."

"People are foolish to pay it," Ma said gently. "Trains are sure to start running again before long..."

"By the way," he said, looking up, "school is closed until toilet paper comes."

"We can study by ourselves," the children said stoutly...

The virus grew worse. It was by far the most violent virus that they had ever heard.

It's amazing what you can do when you replace every reference to "blizzard" with "Corona" and "kerosene oil" with "bottled water and toilet paper". So relevant to life today.

But never fear, we have plenty of kerosene oil and hay for the horses here. We'll be fine.

Because...Corona

Well, Mariana will be coming home today. With the five core members who still live in the house, and now three college students coming home, along with Cousin Molly, that brings our total to 9. If anyone else comes, we will be above the President's order to keep all gatherings under ten and will need to begin voting people off. Eden has already made her selection and in a surprising twist of events is not choosing the most likely, offensive member. Instead, and I quote, "I'm voting off Dad because he made us mulch and do yard work yesterday."

In other news, homeschooling has been going well. It brought back a lot of memories as we carried our work outside yesterday and completed schoolwork at the picnic table. Vitamin D and homeschooling have always made a great combination.

We've been working on reading and writing and various OT skills. This candle project with beads was a hit and provided a lot of fine motor work.

And yes, he needs a haircut but since our current options are limited to the King Cuttery or King Clips, and neither of them have great reviews online, we will wait. If it starts to touch his shoulders or goes below his ears on the sides, we'll pull out the scissors. I promise.

I could get used to homeschooling him if this wasn't such terrible timing for me and what I got myself into. I'm not entirely to blame. Who knew the kids would be home all day for weeks on end and that I wouldn't have from 8-2:30 alone anymore?

Church on Sunday was different and looked something like this.

Not really (of course not, everyone knows pastors aren't with their families on Sundays) but Victor and I did listen online together. He had all kinds of interesting comments, mostly because he isn't usually in a service.

He heard the first prayer and wanted to know if he had to pray along.

The second prayer was by the Good Doctor so he yelled, "Daddddddddyyyyyyy!" He asked why Daddy wasn't praying for his eyesight; why Daddy never prays for his eyesight at church, only at home?

By the third prayer, he asked, "We're praying again?"

During worship, I told him that he was hearing Eden on piano. So he tried to communicate with her through the computer, "Eden! Edddeeeeeeennnnnnnn!" Nothin'.

And then something went wrong with the connection and 2,936 questions about why it stopped. Tears. Shouts. Blaming me. I begged for reinforcements. I sent out an online SOS but nothing because...Corona. Alas, I was on my own.

We employed flexible seating to keep him focused. And then the flexible seating caused an injury and, well, that's the way it goes.

I didn't think he was really listening to the sermon because out of the blue he wanted to know if Satan is made of fire. I don't know, Buddy, I'm not the expert. Ask your father. Or one of the pastors on the computer.

But then he did ask a question relative to the sermon, "Mom, do you think I drink the water God gives?" And then to test it out, he took a drink, "Did I just drink it?"

I stepped away for a second and he yelled at me, "Moooooommmmmm, you're missing church." No, I can listen from here but thanks for looking out for my spiritual well-being.

And so, we carry on because...Corona.

But who cares? Introverts unite! Alone. In your own home.

A day later

Who knew that your wife was being born somewhere in Atlanta, approximately twenty-four hours before you? Who knew that if you had not taken so long to arrive, you could have been the elder? Oh well, I survived being ten days overdue, and in labor for over twenty-four hours. You had your chance.

Anyway, it was when you were home for my birthday last fall that I was most impressed with your maturity, and your spiritual maturity in particular. Of course there have been many times in the past that I have been overjoyed with yet another step of independence but something really stuck out to me that weekend.

We were going around the room talking about changes as many of you were dealing with significant life changes at that time. You had recently come through the election and the governor had not been re-elected. You did not yet have a new job but you said something like, "I'm honestly more at peace than I thought I would be." Wow! That one statement said a lot to me about who you are and how far you've come. And soon after, you did find yourself in a new role, one which was basically handed to you because of a job-well-done in your previous position.

Life is a journey of (hopefully) growing more and more like Christ. I love to watch each of my children as they live lives reliant on Him. May this year be another year of living and growing in Him.

Another birthday

This beautiful print was a gift from the beautiful young woman who first made me a mother-in-law, Sarah.

So today, on your birthday, I gift the message back to you.

Life will bring you many surprises. Days will be overwhelming and confusing and frustrating and scary. We are tempted to be anxious and fearful. But we have a promise that those who don't believe (yet!) don't have and don't understand - our God is faithful.

We don't always know what to do but we can look back on the many times when we were in this exact same position and God did indeed show His faithfulness. He will do so again. In His time. In His way.

Thanking God for the gift of you. Happy birthday, Sweet Sarah!

“In this you greatly rejoice, 

though now for a little while 

you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. 

These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith — 

of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire — may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.” 

1 Peter 1:6-7 (NIV)

Exploring

As Victor has become better able to regulate his emotions and outbursts, we have been "exploring" (as he likes to call it) more. Exploring can happen at the grocery store, Dollar Store, Tractor Supply, and most recently, the pet store.

These explorations double as cane skills practice.

I think the pet store was his favorite exploration so far. He can see a little out of his right eye if the object is well-lit, has enough color contrast, and is close enough.

And some of the animals were!

The mice were by far his favorite!

What most of us don't realize is that the animals can be explored with hearing, too. Try it sometime. Go ahead and stick your ear right next to the mouse tank. What do you hear?

And, possibly one of my favorite places to explore - the frozen yogurt place!

Speaking of...

Growing up, speech class was my least favorite subject. Right behind math. And chemistry. And physics, too. Yes, it was definitely in my bottom five.

So it's to everyone's surprise that I do a lot of public speaking now. Especially my former English teachers. One of them happened to be in attendance when I spoke once. Did she want to change those old record sheets? No more "too quiet" or "too fast" or "too short" (the speech, not the speaker, since there wasn't a whole lot you could do about the latter's stature).

But it was also a surprise to me when Eden came home from one of her first days of school and told me that she had signed up for the Speech and Debate Club. Better you than me, dearie.

And yet another surprise when she found herself in second place, and headed to States for her speech.

Congratulations, Eden! Keep following your own path. I know that God has great plans for you.

Overheard at Brothers

Eden and I enjoyed a little mother-daughter time by buying ourselves a few plants to brighten up the home. She had created some clay pots at the pottery studio and wanted to fill them. I, the ultimate non-green thumb, needed to replace some plants that had passed on. Next we headed to the dollar store for rocks and then to Brothers, our favorite pizza shop, for supper.

We arrived and were greeted by Jerry, the best pizza shop owner around. He not only knows our family but he knows each of us individually, usually asking after each one by name. And since his son was born the same day and year as HopeAnne, he always has a special round of questions just for her.

This evening he was on the phone, taking another order, but not before calling us out by name and asking how we were doing. By the end of his phone conversation, the whole restaurant was chuckling.

Jerry: Okay. And then you want a chicken and steak 'boli?...For your dog?...Your dog eats 'boli?...Does your dog like sauce on the side?...How about wine with that?...

Jerry hangs up and says, "I never heard that one before."

Made our night!

Warning...laughter

Over time, we come to recognize our place in this world with ever-increasing clarity and striking vision. For our family, one of those revelations pertains to our role in the neighborhood. Apparently, before we moved in, life was quite dull. All of the homes but ours and a select few, were still inhabited by the original owners and since the homes had been built in the 60s, many of them were enjoying their retirement years in the privacy of a small horseshoe-shaped road hidden from any of the major roads around it. How many times through the years have we heard, "I didn't even know this road existed?"

And then the Kings moved in. They had a lot of kids. They became foster parents. They added more. They adopted. They had Victor. And things started to get interesting.

Our role became that of neighborhood entertainment. When a cop car turns up at the home of a retiree, it is usually accompanied by an ambulance and as we've watched far too often, it is a solemn occasion. When a cop car shows up at the King house, get your binoculars Wilson, it's going to be a fun couple of hours!

But things have calmed down in the last two years. The Kings took a break from fostering and are now being very choosy in placement calls. Older kids have moved on. The neighbors started spending too much time on their phones and electronic devices - nothing to see here, Mabel, go back to sleep.

So while we've had to say no to the last four phone calls for foster children (what part of "no more teenagers" do they not understand?), we did decide to get new windows. Who knew window replacement day would be so entertaining? Caution tape, warning sign on the door...

I only left for an hour and they had

cordoned off the driveway, too!

Thankfully we are only replacing two so that in a few years we can choose two more and do this again. We certainly don't want to be known as slackers in the neighborhood entertainment industry.

But I can still vape and drink in my home, right?

The moral of the story is this, if you, too, have been selected as the neighborhood entertainment, let me suggest fostering or new windows. The latter is much easier but the former wins the fulfilling-yet-not-for-the-weak-of-heart category.

Pass the oregano

That morning I awoke to the sound of quiet sobs.

"Victor, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He sounded bright and cheerful. Since he is the only other child whose bedroom remains on the main floor of the house, I knew it couldn't be anyone else. And since he's technically not supposed to talk to anyone until 6AM (even if he wakes 2 hours earlier - can you say "Non-24 Syndrome?), I let it go.

A few minutes later, the same noise. I decided he must be pretending.

At the proper hour (6AM), I got up and got a shower. I thought I smelled oregano so I checked the essential oils bottles in my bathroom. Everything had a lid and nothing appeared to be spilled. I let it go.

Soon after, I heard a light tapping at my door. We've come a long way from just barging in...

He entered the room. I noticed that his eye was red and puffy. Constantly bumping into things must be one of the most frustrating parts of being visually impaired.

"Victor, did you bump into something? Is that why I heard crying?"

"Yeah, I bumped into the wall."

The incident, as he told it, didn't seem to fit with the location of the injury but, I let it go.

He also had bed-head so I told him he needed to get a shower. For once he didn't argue. He got in the shower and I went to his room to get his clothes.

And that's when I saw the opened bottle of oregano sitting next to his diffuser. Now it all made sense. The crying. The smell. The red eye. I even remembered that his whole face was red and he kept looking down as if he was avoiding the light.

The mom I used to be, before being a "trauma mom", before parenting kids from hard places, would have focused on the lie. She would have marched back into that bathroom and demanded the truth along with an apology, along with a consequence of some kind. She would have taken the lie personally and lectured on the need to always tell the truth.

She wouldn't have been wrong about that last part but she would have been very wrong about why it happened and what needed to come next.

But there are two important things I've learned as a trauma mama. The first is that all negative behavior has the same root cause: fear. The second is that connecting with grace needs to be my go-to, every time.

Sometimes it takes me a while to get to that grace part. This particular morning, however, I found myself filled with compassion for my little guy with so much fear and frustration.

Very gently, after he had emerged from the shower and started drying off, "Victor, can you please tell me the whole truth about what happened this morning?" No yelling. No accusations. No lecture.

The response was quick and confident, "Yeah, I was trying to fill my diffuser and I had some trouble."

"Victor, I'm sorry that you don't trust me enough to tell me the truth. I'm sorry that you felt like you had to lie. You are not in trouble. I hope that the next time you know that you can tell me the truth. I'm sorry that you hurt yourself. How are you feeling now?"

He smiled. He was fine. We hugged.

Healing for these trauma kids is slow. It often feels like 1 step forward, 5 steps back. But we're getting there and he's come so far.

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, 

because fear has to do with punishment. 

The one who fears is not made perfect in love.

1 John 4:18

I'm not perfect and there's grace for that, too. As I sit here after the kids have gone to school, the house quiet yet smelling of pizza (with LOTS of oregano), I am thankful for how far he has come and hopeful for the future.

My kids think they're so funny

After a recent holiday I was minding my own business, driving some of the family home while the rest of the family was a few miles ahead in a separate car.  Suddenly my co-pilot started laughing at a text she had just received from that car full of my loved ones,

"Mariana says that they all just figured out that in total, you were pregnant more months than you were in college."

They think they're so funny. And smart. Mostly funny. They thought it was hilarious.

Ha ha. Joke's on you. I also got an almost-masters way-back-when. Those credits have to count for something. Do those months push my secondary education total higher than my pregnancy total?

Whatever.  Laugh if you want but none of you would be here if it wasn't for those months and months of pregnancy.

So whenever anyone posts those stupid elephant encounters where they extol the virtues of elephant mothers and how fiercely they protect their young and how the female elephants all surround and support each other, think about how their offspring must make so much fun of them for being pregnant 104 weeks with each of them! Multiply that times five and even the Good Doctor would have been pregnant longer than he was in school. Maybe. I didn't go to college for math so I wouldn't know. And besides, I was there less than I was pregnant. I'm not that smart, obviously. But stop the elephant envy. Just stop.

Dodgeball and bacon

I am often invited to participate in a parent panel in front of soon-to-be student teachers at a local college. The time is given to the college students to ask questions of the panelists in any area of education. Year-to-year there are common themes: What is your preferred method for parent-teacher communication? What do you think of homework? How do you feel about projects?

One year we were asked, "What do you think is the most important thing for your child's teacher to know about your child?" Now there's an individual who will make a great teacher.

As a parent, I want you to know about my child. I know you have a lot of students and they each have a lot of gifts and interests. But it isn't difficult to get to know at least a little bit about my child and then to encourage those things that are important to each one. Don't force all of the children into a box. I know you have your standards and the tests on which your children need to excel. It is possible to get there by allowing each child to be an individual.

In answer to that question, I talked about my second oldest's sixth grade year. He was into two things that year: dodgeball and bacon. He wasn't into English class. He complained that all of the books they had to read were about female leads. He wasn't a fan of writing. But he did like dodgeball and bacon. A very wise teacher had him for English that year. Every single one of his writing assignments that year was written on the theme of either dodgeball or bacon. Every. Single. One. Without exception.

That is what I want my child's teachers to know about each one of them. Allow your students to be individuals. Yes, they have to follow the directions and the rubric but within that rubric, give just enough freedom so that it doesn't matter what each child enjoys or what they're good at. Let them be themselves.

Noah and Formerly Known as Botty

Just before Mr. Victor and the Good Doctor walked out the door for the bus, Victor yelled back at me, "This would be a good time to write me another Noah and BB-8 story." I smiled. Partly because he is always needing to be in control. Partly for the grown-up way in which he attempted to prioritize my day. Mostly because he wants me to write a story so he can read it.

Like a good mom-who-used-to-be-a-teacher, I try to have him read everyday.

The problem is that his Braille skills are somewhere between kindergarten and first grade (through no fault of his teacher - it is what it is). His cognitive skills are several grade levels above that and his vocabulary is closer to middle school.

Reading books with limited vocabulary and no plot has been less than motivational for him. As in, zero motivation. It's like pulling teeth. Literally since not only is he visually impaired he's also sensory challenged. Pulling his teeth out is like the proverbial pulling of teeth. If the idiom fits, you wear it.

So I put on my teacher hat, the one with the special education degree, and tried to think outside the box. What would motivate this unique, visually impaired, sensory challenged, and need-to-be-in-control child to read?

Robots, of course. And Star Wars. And stories with at least some kind of plot and conflict.

The first story was about Noah (Mr. Victor's middle name) and his robot which I named Botty.

Mr. Control read the story and told me the robot's name was stupid (subtlety is not his middle name). He also told me what the name needed to be. Actually, he gave me three choices - all characters on Star Wars, of course. With my apologies to the copyrighters at Star Wars, by Story #3, Botty had a new name (one beginning with the same letter as his old name but since I don't have enough money for copyright infringement fines, we'll leave the actual name up to your imagination).

Then he insisted that Noah needed another robot, and again strongly advised me on the naming of said robot.

Just a few stories in I could already see improvements in interest, fluency, use of context clues, and his desire to phonetically sound out an unknown word.

20 stories in and we're still going strong!

Gloves optional

I'm not a shopper. At least not in the traditional sense. I don't like malls. I don't like salespeople who come up and say, "Hello, welcome to our store. Let me know if I can be of assistance." There's just no polite way to say I won't, ever, ever ask for assistance. I'll leave the store and never, ever buy what I was there for just to avoid salespeople. Or people in general. I do like Amazon and the convenience of shopping from home but I'm not a spender so that's only with a purpose.

However, drive me by a thrift store, and I'll ask you to turn around (I'll even let you do an illegal U-turn) so I can shop.  And my favorite place? The Goodwill Outlet. I go every Wednesday. Religiously.

Now, those not as informed (aka The Good Doctor) will ask silly questions like, "What are you looking for at the outlet today?" Oh, you poor ignorant man. One does not go to a thrift outlet looking for something. No, that would be frustrating and impossible. One goes to the Goodwill Outlet to look among the items until just beyond the Christmas tree still laden with ornaments, amidst a solitary shoe, a green Tupperware container from the 60s that is missing its lid, and a 200 piece puzzle spilling out of its torn box, beneath an 80s Boom Box, you look inside a shoe box and find that perfect treasure. That is how one shops at the outlet.

One never knows what one will find. All for $1.64 a pound. Unless you are buying glassware which has it's on price-per-pound or a pair of shoes which will cost you $2.99 a pair. Or if you are buying books. Those will break the bank at .50 for a hardbound or .25 for a paperback.

One recent shopping trip I came home to empty out my wares to find among them:

A dog blanket 'cause Lucy still chews on hers. Why would I buy them new?

Christmas items 'cause you have to think ahead: Ugly Christmas sweater, Photo Booth items, decorations, gift bags...

A pair of gloves for the menfolk 'cause they seem to go the way of the socks and somehow we keep ending up with lonely gloves.

A vase for the up-coming wedding decorations 'cause why buy new for a one day event? So what if it has 100 years worth of dust on it? I have a sink and I know how to use it.

Cloth napkins 'cause it makes me feel good to save a few dollars every year by not buying paper napkins. And 'cause someone in my family (who shall remain nameless) has this thing for bunching up the cloth napkins and whipping them across the kitchen floor where the dog believes it is her duty to attack and tear apart, taking pride in saving her family from dirty napkins that move across the floor.

Quilt squares already cut out and a few sewn together 'cause I like to make baby and toddler blankets to donate to Backpacks of Hope to be given to children in foster care.

An ice scraper 'cause we lose those as often as glove and sock partners.

An Ocean City, NJ sweatshirt 'cause that's my happy place, the one that even beats out the Goodwill Thrift on my list of most enjoyable places.

And toys for the future grandchildren. 'Cause...grandchildren. Of course.

I have slowly been introducing my children to the joy of discovery that can only be found at the Goodwill Thrift. Before we go, however, I have to win them over with my treasures. It goes something like this:

"Mom, where did you get these great Photo Booth items?"

The Goodwill Outlet. Just $1.64 a pound.

"Mom, the cloth napkins are all in the laundry."

No problem, just pull out a pack of Congratulations, Graduate 2015 napkins that I got at the Goodwill Outlet for $1.64 a pound.

"I like your new bathing suit. Where did you get it?"

Goodwill Outlet, just $1.64 a pound. True story. I couldn't find a bathing suit I liked if I went to a real store and paid real money for a genuine brand new bathing suit but I can pick one up at the Goodwill Outlet, without trying it on (side note: there are no dressing rooms in Good will Outlet). Go figure. And yes, of course I washed it. Well. More than once. Before I wore it.

After they are convinced that one can find practically anything at the Goodwill Outlet, it is almost time to take them. But there is one more very important step before we go - The Rules.

There are some very serious Goodwill Oulet-ers. Yes, even more serious than moi. These people will run you over to be the first in line when the concealing veils are lifted from the new set of bins to get the most coveted soon-to-be-on-ebay items. Sometimes there are even Amish ladies among this group. They are not as dangerous as the ebay sellers but they are only a small step behind. So just stay away from all Outlet vultures. They are vicious, throwing unwanted items here and there to find their precious trinkets. I will say one thing about them, however, they do look out for each other. It's not unusual to hear one Outlet vulture yell to another across the treasure bins, "Hey Golf Club Man..." When you look, sure enough, he has taken a break from his throwing and scavenging to hold up a beautiful specimen of a golf club for, you guessed it, Gold Club Man.

So just pick a row of bins far from the bins covered in shrouds.

Your first order of business is to look for a bag or bin or duffel or suitcase or whatever you want to use to hold your items for the weighing in and the leaving. I'm partial to cloth grocery bags. I may or may not have a collection of these bags large enough to bag up every item in the grocery store but I no longer mind giving things away in bags and not getting them back. There's another one to replace it. Just $1.64 a pound.

Then, sift away. Unless you are an Outlet Vulture and peruse without care for your fellow man, you will want to do this with mindfulness. If no one is standing to your left, then you can remove the items in front of you and move them to the left as you go. The opposite is true if someone is on your left but your right side is free. In very tricky situations where you are hemmed in, you can toss unwanted items into the bin across from you.

Oh, and gloves are optional. The die-hards wear them. I don't. Just a personal preference.

Not surprisingly, I've had mixed reactions from my children. Mariana enjoyed it. She came away with treasures costly less than $10. She makes me proud. Isaac gave it a good effort. He even braved the Outlet Vultures just for the experience. Good for him, I can't do it. But I don't think he'll return for a second trip. After touching all of that junk, he pronounced, "I feel contaminated."

Okay, he's not far from wrong. This is the place where junk goes to die. This is their last chance. If not scooped up here, well, we won't talk about that.

So if you are looking for a real cultural experience, I'll see you there on Wednesday!

Gloves optional.