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I used to throw rocks at windows

I used to break things until I found something I was good at. Angry Boys (Part 1) When I was a kid, I used to break things. Most of the things I broke were made of glass. The noise of shattering glass proved to be a good reward for my efforts. Whether I was putting my fist through a window because I got locked in the bathroom after pee-wee football practice (pee-wee football has nothing to do with urine, I promise), taking a piece of glass out of the my babysitter’s living room table and throwing it in the driveway (probably explains some flat tires), or breaking my older brother’s Transformers (sorry, Jeremy) - I had a knack for destruction. I was a blonde-hair, blue-eyed version of Shiva,

Are you sure you want your kid diagnosed? (Part 3)

Dyscalculia: Just the facts, man! Dyscalculia affects roughly 5% of the population; however, it still runs the risk of becoming another over-used ambiguous educational term with little defining clarity as to what it actually is. Let's try to make more sense of it by looking into what we do know... Broken down into its etymological roots, the term dyscalculia simply means "a difficulty -dys - with maths - calculia". While this might seem obvious, it is important to remember that it is specific to maths skills (intuition, number sense, counting, operations, concepts, processes and steps). This means that a child’s difficulty in maths are caused by their dyscalculia, not general learning diffic

I went to the special ed. room because I stunk at math, but I stayed for the marshmallows.

Are you sure you want your kid diagnosed? (Part 2) My stint as a special ed. kid I remember my parents trying to make me feel good about being in special education (to clarify, it was math lessons in the special education room – a.k.a. The Room). “It’s OK” they said. “You just learn math a bit different than the other kids. This will help you do it better.” Bless them. The next afternoon I got called out of my class with a few other kids and nervously walked down the hall toward “The Room”. I was told to sit at a U-shaped table next to the recently incriminated class "Marker Thief" - the girl who stole kids' markers... except it had recently gotten personal. Here's what happened... The Story

I had Tourette’s. Still do!

Are you sure you want your child diagnosed? (Part 1) I know what you’re thinking so I’ll nip this one in the bud straight away: I did not have that kind of Tourette’s. You know, the one where people shout swear words and get away with it because, "Hey, it's Tourette's!" No... I couldn’t get away with shouting “---- you!” or a “You’re a -----” to grown-ups… although I tried. Instead, I had the kind of Tourette’s where it just looks a bit awkward. When I was more anxious (which was often), I would have specific “tics”. These appeared as small involuntary movements like nodding my head, jerking my arm, or other less congenial facial grimaces. It has never happened, but I'm sure if a group of us

 
 
 

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