My Beautiful Daughter's Future

Every morning, I read the Daily Quote on bookreporter.com. This is today’s quote:

Love much. Earth has enough of bitter in it.
— Ella Wheeler Wilcox

[NOTE: I don't know why the spacing is screwing up. Sorry about that.]

Right now it’s hard to heed Ella’s excellent advice. My heart is heavy with sadness and some bitterness. I keep asking myself what else can I do? Where can I turn? How can I help my daughter?

I must vent for a moment.

Right now Alesia has a 76 in her computer class, a fact which horrifies me. Her teacher sent me an e-mail last night saying Alesia has a project due today, a Powerpoint presentation about a career. This was a project done entirely in class. She has talked about it. She has had two weeks to do it. When I saw the e-mail I was good; I kept my temper and didn’t yell or scream.

Computer class is the one class I just knew Alesia could ace. I won’t relay the whole conversation, but Alesia finally admitted to me she has been playing in class, going on Google, not doing her work. I have learned the hard way that if she has access to a computer it’s like handing her a loaded gun. She WILL do something I don’t approve of – thus my refusal to get her internet access at home. The last time I let her use my computer [for schoolwork] and I walked away for 15 minutes, she set up an Instant Messenger and began IM’ing a boy she knows from school.

Alesia is really good at problem solving and very adept at learning things on the computer. However, there is a good chance that she is going to fail her current computer class because of her inability to stay focused, and other issues.

People give me advice all the time about how to deal with her school issues, but they fail to take into account her fetal alcohol brain damage. I can’t treat her the way one would treat a “normal” [I hate that word] kid. I can tell her something today but she will likely not remember it tomorrow. I can check her agenda every day and it does no good because she forgets to write things down.

Every time I think things are going along pretty well with her, she stops me short with a sentence. Last night, this was the sentence: “What does ‘absent’ mean?”

I looked at her, trying to tell if she was joking or acting. She was not. She can’t really “act” the way most kids can; she has almost no guile. I explained the definition, mentally racing through recent conversations where I’ve used the word “absent” assuming she knew what it meant.

I told Mother about this last night as I was helping her get ready to shower. She told me about another well-known, simple word Alesia had recently asked her to define. Mother couldn’t recall the exact word but it was something as obvious as “happy.”

I’ve thought about punishing her for failing the classes she has failed this year. That seems like cruelty – what can be accomplished by punishing a person whose brain does not work properly? Would she even remember the punishment later, and use it to govern her actions? Likely not. I’ve tried it before, anyway – I know from experience it doesn’t work with her.

Then there’s reward, another exercise in futility. She doesn’t have the consumerism most American kids develop by the time they are 5 or 6. She lived her first 6 years in a home without running water, electricity, etc. She lived 6 years in an orphanage where food was scarce, clean, decent clothes were scarce, and she was beaten often by the bigger kids. So now, everything is gravy to Alesia – she has a clean, comfortable place to live, decent clothes, proper food, friends, a family, a dog. Money is not an incentive. (I don’t believe in paying for grades, anyway; it goes against my principles.)

“Executive functioning” is part of the missing brain apparatus. It means keeping up with assignments, understanding actions and consequences, that sort of thing. Alesia doesn’t understand a lot of what she hears verbally in the classroom. So she hears something about a project, but she doesn’t really grasp what’s expected. She takes the handout with the rubric, and puts it in her notebook. She then forgets about it. In another class, she hears the teacher say there is a test on Friday. She forgets to put it in her agenda, then forgets all about it as soon as she leaves the class. On Friday, she does her best, but she has forgotten a lot of the material.

I’ve sat down patiently and explained to Alesia more than a dozen times that she must find out why she has zeros on her grade report online, in Biology and other classes. Did you do the assignment? I ask. The one on [blah blah]? Her eyes get wide. “I don’t remember that.” I tell her to talk to the teachers. They intimidate her. They also treat her like any other kid and completely fail to understand her issues. She is just one of 130-150 kids they see each day. Without an IEP, they won’t go out of their way to help her.

If the teachers would just put their lesson plans on a website every day, I could go on there and check, and help her keep up. If they’d check her agenda every day, I could help her. They won’t do either. It’s assumed that by the time a child is in high school that they do not need that.

This is the phrase I hear so often from her, not just about school, but about everything: I don’t remember.

She told Mother yesterday she needed a shower – she had forgotten to shower, for 3 days.

I try to imagine what jobs she can do with the brain issues she has. She couldn’t be a secretary because that requires excellent grasp of English and sharp executive functioning skills. She couldn’t be a waitress because she might misunderstand or forget something she was told verbally. Being a nanny wouldn’t be feasible – what if the child needed medication? She might forget to give it to her. (I have to remind her daily about her own medication and vitamins.) What about being a dog groomer? If she saw someone acting mean to a dog it would upset her and she would quit or get fired. In all honesty, I can’t really picture her doing anything but manual labor, something like working as a maid, or on an assembly line. I can’t even picture her being able to drive a car. [Not on Atlanta Highways of Death, anyway...]

I have an acquaintance here at work whose daughter is the same age as Alesia, 16. The girl holds down a part-time job, makes good grades, has her own cell phone and bank account, etc. Alesia couldn’t do any of those things. I’ve tried to get Alesia to understand about bank accounts but she cannot grasp the concept. I let her use my cell phone while I was in Kazakhstan last year and she ran the bill up to $1800 texting and web surfing. She had no idea I would later get a bill for that. She is too easily distracted to drive, and she fears driving. She had never ridden in a car but a few times when I adopted her a few years ago.

These thoughts make me want to cry. However, I am hormonal. That's another fact which I should mention before I end this anguished diatribe.

I should also point out that my daughter is beautiful, both inside and out, has a heart of gold, loves small children and animals - she is an excellent little mama to her brother and Coco, is creative and artistic, and is excellent at putting together mechanical things. She put together a somewhat complex organizer/bookcase thing for Michael's room yesterday, and did a great job. [Getting him to actually use it will be my job.]

As Mother always says, you do your best and then forget it. Give it to The Lord.

IN OTHER NEWS

The tadpole toddlers are doing well. Michael looks at them every day. Yesterday, he was eating a hunk of French bread, and Mother told him to drop a crumb in the bowl and see what happened. Well, the tadpoles attacked it. He dropped another tiny morsel. They attacked that. They are thriving. No legs, yet. I just hope that when they are, finally, able to jump out on their own, that it’s not a scene of violence.

Bruce e-mailed to say he keeps one of Michael’s drawings displayed in his office. When we stuck it in the care package, we were in a hurry, so it wasn’t one of his well-colored masterpieces. As I recall it was a little impish creature with what appeared to be flames coming out from his, uh, posterior – this idea of gas powered flight intrigues Michael. I have an “angel” drawing which is somewhat similar. I can see Michael one day becoming a famous animator, if he can learn to spell a bit better.

We were very dissatisfied with the company who gave us the estimate for our furnace. They were unprofessional and occasionally downright rude, and didn't show up at the house with the estimate when they said they would. Local friends have given me several names of other companies, so Mother is calling them. When it comes to any sort of service provider, from a plumber to a psychologist, I rely on personal recommendations.

Comments

[Karen]

Hi Dee,

Have you tried a tutor? Can Alesia get the emails of her teachers? I know if I were a teacher (which I'm not, I'm a Librarian) I would totally go out of my way to help if I were emailed! :)

Take heart, my co-worker's daughter, a frosh at CMU, purposely decided not to do her Powerpoint presentation for a Speech class -- and got a D. My co-worker's daughter isn't dumb my any stretch of the imagination. I seriously think that teen's brains are wired and chemically different during these trying times.

[Sarah]

I see so much of my 7 year old in your daughter and believe that I will have these same questions about her future. I worry about it now and we have so much more time. I can't imagine how stressful it must be for you. My heart goes out to you. Like Alesia, Rya is a sweet, kind, and gentle loving girl. She has SO much to offer, but in less traditional ways I guess. I try to think outside the box when it comes to her future and what she might excel at. It's so hard.

[Amy (Alex's Mommy)]

I love to read your post when I can as it is nice to keep up w/Alesia and Michael....two lovely children! On Monday of this week I was handed an article from Saturday's AJC written by John Rosemond in the Parenting section. In summary he discounts the theory that reward and punishment can help you modify a child's behavior. It ain't gonna happen he says! Especially with situations like ours with children from "another world" (orphanages from former Soviet Union countries). You are right about Lakeside needing their teachers to post the assignments as the school I work at did it last year and it has helped tremendously. Since Dekalb County won't give you an IEP perhaps you can make up your own and request assignments be emailed to you. It doesn't matter whether there are a zillion kids or 15 kids that the teachers see a day....they are obligated to educate Alesia in the manner in which she needs it. That's my soap box for the day.

[Beckie]

I wish I had even suggestions for you. I do not, but I do want to tell you that as always, I am impressed with your mothering to your precious children. I know it will somehow work out for all of you, because you have so much love you are pouring into their lives.