The Water Carrier

Ricki has been learning in several different subjects things connected to history, how life once was, and the industrial revolution. (Now we are reaping the benefit of historical sites we visited last summer.) In one subject, she had to write a sentence or two about any one of several pictures. She chose the picture of a water carrier. Then she proceeded to write the clearest, most grammatically correct sentences she ever has. She wrote:

“The water carrier goes with water in his buckets to sell . He goes to the faucet at the neighbors (to fill them)”.

I felt so sorry for her: two great sentences, which were of course not usable!

This illustrates so well the difficulty we have in teaching the mentally challenged. It is necessary to teach them EVERY single facet of a new subject; no osmosis can be assumed. For example, if you are teaching a child to button a shirt, that task itself is not enough. They also need to know that if a button is loose, or fallen, the shirt must be exchanged for another. They need to know what to do with this one. (He also needs to handle a situation in which the shirt is torn or stained.) They need to know to check their appearance, and what type of shirt is appropriate for which occasion, and which weather. They need to know where one can get dressed, and where this is not appropriate. There are many, many facets to putting on a shirt.
So we need to go to the well of knowledge, and draw… and draw… and pull up more, and more!

The Vegetable Buy

The other day I had gone to buy produce, and had it delivered to my house. Once it arrived, it was laying in the salon in a cardboard box, waiting to be unpacked, sorted, and put away. Somehow I was too busy to do so (I often am; this job is frequently a one o’clock at night job). After several hours I suddenly noticed that the box was almost empty.
Opening the refrigerator door, I discovered “half havoc”. The fruit bin was full of vegetables, and the vegetable bin had apples and tomatoes, topped with (YIKES!) heavy potatoes. And even though the rearranging took more time than the job initially would have, and even though some tomatoes complained to me about the inquisition they had suffered from the potatoes, all in all I was pleased. Ricki had taken the initiative to do a big job. She simply lacked training, and that was my fault.

Expensive Vegetable Soup

I decided a few months ago, that since Ricki's behavior had substantially improved, I could stop her "play therapy". Some of the money saved, I planned to apply go to have someone teach her "life skills" two afternoons a week. I felt that this is extra important, considering that she is integrated in a regular class, and is not getting very much formal teaching in this area. This week we inaugurated the twice-a-week life-skills studies, with a private tutor. Each session of 90 minutes is costing me $12.
Well, Ricki was in a very contrary mood today (a replica of that "past" behavior that I had thought was behind us). She managed to dawdle, not cooperate, and be generally obnoxious, and succeeded in taking 2 and-a-quarter hours to make a pot of vegetable soup. (Initially I was surprised at her behavior, as she loves to cook. Later I realized that she is just re-testing the waters, trying to earn slack, perhaps due to two hard tests at school in close proximity.) The 2 and –a-quarter hours might be reasonable for someone studying cooking, and tackling a sizable mound of vegetables to peel. However, that session will cost me $18. Rather expensive soup, I must say! But definitely worth it.
PS. And it tasted great, too!