Case in point. We had a parent-teacher's conference last week. Nosey Rosey is having difficulty processing verbal direction. The teacher would like to have her tested, so see if she is eligible for tutoring in that area. This came as something of a shock to her father an I as she had straight A's on her last report card. The problem is, according to her teacher, is that she has to work too hard for it and often times needs quite a bit of clarification and explanation. I like the fact that the teacher is on the ball and wants to nip this in the bud at an early age.

During the conference, the teacher told us that she is very encouraging to all of the other students. "Wow, I think that is the best printing I've ever seen you do. It's so neat! You are getting so much better."

She told us how NR is very close to a child that has mild autism. He gets very frustrated and upset quite easily. The other day they were playing a game. One of the other children took the color game piece that he wanted. He became agitated and that was when my daughter stepped in. She leaned over, gave him a hug and said, "here child's real name, you can have this piece. I saved it just for you because I think its perfect for you." Apparently, he calmed down right away, and settled right into the game. Her teacher now relies on her to calm him down when necessary. At this point, it was necessary to lean over and close my husband's mouth. Mine remained wide open. And the flies began to file in.

On the other side of the coin, she can turn on you in a heartbeat. We have daily battles with homework and tonight was not exception. Our general rule is that when you get home, you do your homework before you play. Occasionally, that works out just fine, but there are times that getting her to do her homework is much like giving yourself a lobotomy.

We got a late start tonight and by the time she finished, it was dark outside so she couldn't play. Predictably, she threw a fit. After going out into the garage yet again to let the neighborhood know of her unhappiness, she came charging into the kitching, shaking her fist and shouting, "curse you people, for destroying my play time!" What I want to know is, just where did she get that from?

After a few minutes of sulking in her room, she came skipping out, holding the guinea pig and asking me if I would read to her and Sugar Plum.

You know what's scary? She takes after me.