I Need More than Inspirational Poster of Woman Scaling a Mountain.

As many of you know, I recently made a person. One of the things that I didn’t expect about pregnancy is that even after having a baby, I would still look pregnant for many months. I thought that maybe after 3 months post-partum, I’d be back to my normal shape. Ooooohhhhh no. When Baby B was 3 months old, I decided it was time to do something about it. I was determined. I took the advice of this mommy in my mommies group to try out The Dailey Method. For those of you not familiar, it is basically a core focused class that seemed to me to be like if pilates and ballet had a baby. Women I know have sworn it is the best workout on the planet. So I decided to try it out. I was fairly confident I could handle it, as I worked out my entire pregnancy, 3 days a week, before work. I know! Ridiculous.

I arrived to find my mommy group friend had picked the same class to attend. Hurrah! We would be fit yummy mummies together! The instructor was a perky lady with perfect hair and she welcomed me to the class. I mentioned it was my first workout after having my baby and she exclaimed gleefully, “Ooh! I just had a baby too!” This women looked like a fitness model, so I figured she had a baby a while ago. Turns out our babies were the same age. I hated her. But then again, maybe it was a good sign that she had rock hard abs already. It did make me feel like a 400 lb Schlumpelufagus though. And as I looked around the room, it seemed like I was the only one who wasn’t modeling professionally for Lululemon athletic wear.

Anyhoo, needless to say, the class was a disaster. Everyone knew what they were doing and I was desperately trying to keep up. The instructor just kept yelling out things I didn’t know how to do or could no longer do—“Tip your hips! Tips your hips! Bend! Squeeze! Lift!” I ended up doing this awkward thrusting gyrating movement in an effort to tip my hips. It was not cute. There were no modifications for someone with a jelly core. I peered over at my mommy friend, sure I would find a kindred Schlumpelufagus, and the woman was doing the full splits like it wasn’t hard at all. I started to tear up a little. I couldn’t do anything right. I felt everyone was pitying me. The instructor was moving so fast, I couldn’t get any help. It was the longest class of my life.

After the class, the instructor said, “You did such a good job!” and I felt like she was lying to me. She asked how it was for me and I welled up with tears. I sniffled, “I feel weak—physically and mentally--like a weak person.” I told her I couldn’t keep up and didn’t know how to do what she was asking. It was too fast paced. She was genuinely surprised. Then, I was annoyed at her. How could she not see me floundering around like a dying fish on the floor for an hour? I left. I got an email later with an apology that I had a bad experience, offering me a free class to try again. That was 3 months ago and I haven’t stepped foot in that place again.

I can totally see why some kids with learning difficulties give up easily. It is so hard to be the one left behind, the one who doesn’t get it, the one who feels dumb for not getting it. And it's not like my success in life depends on fitting in my pre-preggers jeans, whereas learning to read is pretty fundamental. As a school psychologist, I give the persistence speech all the time. I always say that the brain is like a muscle and you have to keep working it! I tell kids a mixture of mistakes and success is how you learn! And with older kids, I tell them the research on persistence and grit—that it may be a better predictor of success and high grades than IQ scores. Persistence is, after all, one of the “success attributes” for students with disabilities. However, after my experience, which is a fraction of the cumulative effects of struggling to learn, I wonder now if I should start with empathy about how hard it must be and THEN moved to the persistence speech.

So I’m thinking that I should walk the walk, show persistence, and get my jelly core back to the class. I have been slowly working on my core in the privacy of my own home (Baby B and I both do Tummy Time together—she works on pushing up and I do push ups. Then we both face plant on the floor and cry). I’m feeling a little stronger physically. It will just take the mental strength to go back to the place of shame, where I cried in public because I didn’t know how to tip my hips and was too weak to participate in most of the moves. It would just be so much easier to avoid it. If only I had a school psychologist I could go to, who could encourage me to persevere. She would tell me I will get better with each class. And maybe, just maybe, she would tell me this with a backdrop of a poster of a woman climbing a mountain or something inspirational, and I would believe her.

Every Child is my Baby.

To say motherhood changes you is a huge cliché, but it’s also true. I think of my life before Baby B as “B.C.—Before Children.” It’s a whole different world now. B.C., I promised myself I would never tell boring stories about my daughter. And yet the other day, I was telling my BFF that I was glad it was getting chilly outside because Baby B got to wear her new beret. I can’t help it; everything about my baby is interesting to me (and she looked smashing in her beret, by the way). Clearly, there are major physical changes in motherhood as well (my kingdom to fit back into pre-preggers jeans!). But there is another change that I didn't really anticipate, and that is my mindset about parenting.

To be honest, B.C., I always felt a little like a fraud dolling out parenting advice as a school psychologist, without being a parent myself. I was a fairly knowledgeable “fraud,” to be fair. I held parent nights where I’d give sound tips for parenting. I’d freely advise parents in meetings what to do. I even did an interview for Parents Magazine. I reasoned that my advice was actually superior to advice of a school psychologist with a child, because mine was completely objective. I never made my advice for kids about what worked for me or for my own child. I gave just the facts and research. So in this way, maybe not having kids was an asset in my job (not to mention the fact that B.C., I had waaaaay more energy and time to give to my job).*

Now that I’m a parent, I am very aware that there is a danger that I will project my personal parenting experience onto other parents. At one of my schools, there was a support staff member who had a child with ADHD and eeeeeeevery child she saw she thought had ADHD. She saw ADHD lurking under every rock, so to speak. She always recommended the same things that she did for her child to every family. I could have predicted what was coming out of her mouth before she said it at every meeting, because it was always really about her child. Worse yet, she was always recommending unproven, unresearched treatments. She meant well, but she didn’t understand the importance of keeping the focus on the child we were all talking about. Sure, you might have some personal experience in parenting that could be useful, but you gotta keep it in check.

Even in my pregnancy, I knew that being a mother would change my outlook on my job. When I was taking developmental histories, I had a renewed excitement for learning about the pregnancy and early years of the children I was working with. I found myself wanting to know more and more (“Um, tell me again about how you got your child to be a good sleeper?”). I was filing away experiences parents had with possible future scenarios I might encounter. And I thought I could detect that parents were a bit more open about sharing. Maybe my giant belly gave me some street cred?

Now that I have Baby B, I definitely see the world differently, as a psychologist. When I see a child with autism wring his hands, they become my daughter’s hands, and I wonder what its like for the parent to see their child this way. When a parent tells me their child is being teased, I flash to what it would be like to have Baby B to come home and cry because she was teased. Every child is now my baby, on some level. And I know I have more empathy and understanding with parents because we have shared the experience of looking down at a little darling all your own and wanting the absolute best for him or her.

I realize this may come off as me saying that psychologists without kids can’t fully understand the business of parenting. If someone had said that to me before I had kids, I would have been annoyed at him or her. It’s like someone smirking and patting you on the head and saying, “you’ll understand when you’re older.” That’s not what I’m saying; I think I was a fab psychologist before I had kids, I just think I may become a better psychologist now that I’m a mother.**

And since I am loving my new role as a mom and psychologist with parenting street cred, I am on a kick to get all my 30-something educator friends to have babies too. A few weeks ago, I brought Baby B to my Elementary School and told a teacher colleague she should get a baby because they’re so awesome (showing Exhibit B, wearing baby leg warmers and beret). My colleague mused that she was worried she wouldn’t have enough love and energy for both her students and children. Au contraire!*** Having a kid makes your love for students deeper. In my mind, every child is now someone’s baby. Sure, that “baby” may be getting in trouble or making bad decisions, but it makes you more empathetic toward the parents, who are often doing their best with the tools they have.

As a psychologist, I always intellectually understood a parent’s love for a child, but now I can feel it too. It’s an amazing, indescribable feeling. And I truly believe that the experience of motherhood will continue to make me a better psychologist. Now if we can just do something about fitting back into those pre-pregnancy jeans...

*Why do people say, “not to mention…” and then go ahead and mention it? Discuss amongst yourselves.
**Toot! Toot! What’s that? My own horn.
***That is what Baby B said in her head, while wearing beret.

Best of 2011!

It's time for the Year in Review post!

Needless to say, 2011 was a big year for me (and I mean that literally and metaphorically--I was a huge pregnant person for most of the year.) Towards the end of my pregnancy, I was getting that look from people. I know they were thinking: "Should she be out in public? Shouldn't she be in a hospital right now?!?" I know they were thinking that. But in the end, I got a perfect little baby girl, so it was all worth it. I have my very own developmental psychology project (n=1). Really, having a baby is easier than being a school psychologist. Caseload of 1, anyone? In my job, I was pulled in 8 hojillion directions to work with hundreds of students. Now I can focus on just one. It's a dream come true. Oh, and in case anyone is tracking her development, she is not only reaching for desired objects, but trying to move to get them (in 2 out of 5 trials as measured by mama charted records). Just kidding not really.

Once again, my love of writing about Baby B has distracted me from the real point of the post. I love writing the year in review post because I get to reflect on the year in the life of a school psychologist. Only this year, I also got to reflect on how I was too tired to write a lot of posts because I was busy making a person. I always thought about great posts and then I thought a post-work nap would be a better choice for a tired pregnant lady. I reasoned that I would not get many chances to nap at will once the baby was born. I was correct.

So without further ado, here are the best posts of the year (as measured by a weak measure of number of comments). New Year's Ressie for 2012 is to figure out how to read my analytics on feedburner to find the most read posts. That is if I'm not too tired from raising a small person...

January: My musings on the shooting in Tuscon. Not exactly an inspirational post, but isn't it interesting that the media has totally abandoned coverage of mental health issues since then? Now it's just cut cut cut mental health services from schools like nothing happened. Boo.

February: Default winner since I only wrote one post is the one in which I get spit on and then blamed for it by the police. My extreme reaction actually may make more sense now that you know I was pregnant during this episode and was a bit emotional...

March: A classic one in which I dance with a tiger mom.

April: A post about how kids should be like DIY projects.

May: The most commented on post of the year, probably because it was the most controversial. A post about who is best equipped to assess for ADHD

June: Yeah, June was weak. I only wrote one post because I was hot and fat (pregnant). A post on not posting.

July: Here was a post on my dogs, but not really. A post on Banning the L word from kids' vocabularies.

August: It was a tie between a post on my battle with mindfulness and my love of working with students with oppositional behavior.

September: My Labor Day Confession about why I didn't go back to work in the fall. Hint: 9 lbs, 1 oz. Seriously. I told you I was huge. My family is full of small women who make huge babies. It was genes, not ice cream! Sort of.

October: Here was a post on how Halloween messes up assessments.

November/December: Actually, the most commented on post was a contest that required one to make a comment, so I'm gonna go with my favorite instead on Baby Leg Warmers.

There you have it! Here's hoping that 2012 is full of informative, provocative, and useful blog posts. In related news: here's hoping that in 2012 Baby B becomes a longer napper...

SPAW! SPAW!

I hope you all read the title "SPAW! SPAW!" to the sound effect of a large predatory bird cawing. No? Well I did in my head. SPAW stands for School Psychology Awareness Week, in case anyone was wondering. So, how was your SPAW? I spent mine on maternity leave, making informal Individual Education Plan goals for my baby daughter in my head, as in: "Baby B will reach for a desired object on 4 out of 5 trials as measured by mommy charted records."

Since I was not at work this year for SPAW, I thought I'd do a little recycling for those who haven't been with the blog since 2007, but are too daunted by the hojillion posts to go searching for what the days of a school psychologist are like. Here's a hint: never the same. You never know what will present itself when you walk in your school doors, and chances are, your plans for the day go out the window within the first hour or so. It's what I like about our profession--never a dull moment. So here are some oldies, but goodies, about the day in the life of...moi.

A typical day, full of children trying to run away from me and foreign objects being thrown.

Another day, another quest for a pen and additional time to do my job.

Three days smooshed into one, full of cold pricklies (guns and whatnot) and warm fuzzies (kids making real changes).

Top 10 things I do as a school psychologist

Fuzzy math: why we never have time to do our job

Somebody, hug me. I hate when advocates get unnecessarily saucy in meetings.

And to spice it up with something new, here is a sample of how your friends at the NFtSP Blog Facey Face page spent their SPAW:

• Teaching social skills, counseling, and behavior plans.
• Sat on teams for inclusion, Positive Behavior Intervention System (PBIS), and "yellow zone" behavior interventions.
• Provided parents with the information that they need to ensure that their child receives accommodations when writing SAT and other necessary exams, and when attending post-secondary school.
• Giving a questionnaire to fifth graders to assess for the prevalence of bullying at their school.
• In my current job I rarely ever test anymore. This week I was schooled on the most effective way to steal cars. (I work in a juvenile jail)
• Implementing check-in/check-out program for the district! Oh, and in Response to Intervention (RtI) meetings out the wazoo.
  
• Started a group for 5th grade girls targeting current relational aggression issues
• I spent 5 hours of my day today in a student crisis situation...
• Created a "Manners Jeopardy" game for our middle school counseling groups... in light of thanksgiving coming up. Doesn't hurt to remind 7th and 8th graders about table manners, conversation manners, etc!
• I had a rather humorous counseling session, followed up with the student showing me his sticker chart for good behavior later in the day.
• Helped a life skills student conquer his bus phobia with a get on the bus, get off the bus, ride laps around the parking lot with a very patient bus driver yesterday. The kiddo took a mass transit bus to a field trip today and the school bus back.
• I attended a full day of training on the iPad. We just got them to use to administer AIMSweb probes to our elementary students (and to have a little fun with!)
• Helped a first grade classroom teacher plan a re-entry plan for a student with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) returning to school from a partial hospitalization program
• Prepared for and led a middle school team meeting to prepare for the admission of a student with autism and is non-verbal moving to our district from a foreign country at the end of the month. I had requested translated reports and video of the student in his current educational setting from his parents and shared all this with the group today. I told them they were going to do amazing things with this student, who to this point, has not received much in the way of meaningful instruction. And I meant it! They are pumped!
• RtI meetings, threat assessment, behavior plans
• Wrote 2 behavior plans, manned a school-wide community service project, and managed data and made decisions about students on our Check-in, Check-out Tier II PBIS program.
• I have the Michael Franti "Be a Learner" song from third grade Second Step stuck in my head after doing the same lesson in three classrooms. It's catchy!
• Provided Grief/Crisis Counseling Support and drove a parent to visit a program for their child.

See, we are more than just testing and IEP machines! Spread the news!

Oh, and in case you were wondering, Baby B is at 80% mastery on her IEP goal, as she reached for her Whoozit toy four times today. Genius child.

You Are All Winners. But Only One Gets A Prize.

Last week, I ran a contest to win this fabulous classroom observation app for the iPad. Using a random number generator, the winner is... "JFValerie"! So if you are JFValerie, send me your email at rebecca(at)studentsgrow(dotcom).

Thanks to everyone who participated...I loved reading about your best classroom observation moments! Hope you all are having a fabulous SPAW (School Psychology Awareness Week)!

Little.

I warned you guys that since I’m on maternity leave, posts were going to be a bit baby-o-centric. Today’s post is about baby laundry. But not really.

They say to nap when the baby naps. But I see her naps as my only opportunity to get the laundry done and eat with TWO hands. I am getting rather babydexterous in that department, but it’s just more fun to eat without holding a baby. Today, I was folding the baby laundry when it was done, and I just love how little everything is. Little baby socks! Little baby leg warmers!** Little t-shirt! I die. I love all things little. People are always telling me to enjoy my baby because they grow up so fast. No problem! Do you see that little face? I'm soaking it up all the time. It is true that they grow so fast though. I was initially bummed out when she grew out of her bassinet, but then I got to put her in her crib and voila! she looked super little again. Yes!

My friends know about my love of little. When I moved to Cali with one of my best friends, she was in charge of stopping me from buying little things for the apartment, like mini-spatulas and itty bitty useless cookware. Whenever I showed her such things in the store, she would make me answer the question, “Are you buying that because you need it or because it is little?” Most times, it was because it was little. And little is cute. I would say, "Gah! Fooled by the little again!" and put it back.

This is why it is surprising that for most of my career as a school psychologist, I have worked with middle and high school students. They are decidedly not little, and let’s be honest, not so cute. One would think I’d be a preschool assessor with my preference for little. But there is something awesome about working with the adolescents, even if they can be rude or standoffish.*

I wrote a series on middle school students when I first started my blog. As a sidebar, I think my writing has evolved from then. I used to be super researchy and informative. Now I’m trying desperately to connect baby leg warmers** to school psychology. Anyhoo, my point (I have one, I’m just sleep deprived and it takes me a while now) is that I think people are much less forgiving of adolescents’ developmental mistakes than younger students’ mistakes, because younger students are still cute and little. It is kind of cute when a Kindergartener uses faulty logic to explain their actions, and not so cute when a 13 year old does it.

I find that as a school psychologist, while teens are not little and cute on the outside, when I am working with them one-on-one, I find the cute on the inside. So many times, adolescents have presented as hardened and aloof, and then when I get to know them, they surprise me with saying funny things or sharing a the softer side of Sears (e.g. A 10th grader dressed like a thug sharing he loves poetry, or an 8th grade girl who initially acted snotty to me admitting she wants to be a vet because she loves fuzzy animals). You have to look for the cute in teens, it’s not in your face.

Please remind me of this when Baby B is an adolescent and makes mistakes that are not cute. I have a feeling though that even when she is 16, I will still secretly think of her as my cute little girl, even though she will have long grown out the baby leg warmers.**

*One of my friends teaches 7th grade, and she told me once, “I can’t help it. I love teaching the little bastards. I don't know why.” I wouldn’t have put it in those terms, but I agree that I too love adolescents’ sauciness.

**Baby leg warmers. I die.

Go On, Win Yerself Something Purdy.

I love getting emails from readers, especially when they offer something pretty for my readers. I tend to not pimp out things to buy on my blog, unless it is shamelessly something I wrote, of course. But in this case, you get something freeeeeeeeee and who doesn't like free? You guys don't have to pay $29.99, I give it to you for FREE99.

Enough hooplah. Enter my contest and win an app for tracking behavior during classroom observations! Some momtrepreneurs/school psychs in my home state of Colorado developed this app and wanted to share it with all y'all:
The Behavior Lens app. The app has four observation types: Interval Recording, Duration, Frequency, and ABC. The look and design is very sleek and sophisticated, yet extremely intuitive and easy to use. The best part is that it automatically generates graphs from your data which can be easily shared with parents and teachers through email or attaching them to documents.



Now, of course you have to be fancy and have an iPad to use it. I am still sans iPad, and I do think people kind of rub it in my face when their emails end with "Sent from my iPad," but who am I not to share the iPad app love?

So how do you enter the contest? You can enter in one of three ways (or all three!)

1) Write a comment at the end of the post telling a story about the craziest or most inspiring thing you have ever observed in a classroom (don't use names or identifying info, please!)

2) Pick your favorite post on NFtSP about behavior and share it on Facey Face or Twitter. Use the button at the end of the post. Be sure to tag @Notes from the School Psychologist Blog (Facebook) or @studentsgrow (Twitter) so I will be able to see who re-posted it.

3) If you aren't already a fan of the blog on Facey Face or Twitter, sign up and then return here and post a comment that you are signed up.

I will then put your names in a numbered list and use a random number generator to pick the winner. I will announce the winner of the app on the blog. The app is valued at $29.99 so go forth and enter! Or...is it actually priceless because you get to show a fancy graph on your iPad at IEP meetings? So jealous.