Elephants beware

Schuyler's Dragon
Originally uploaded by Citizen Rob.

Julie and I spent the afternoon yesterday in a class learning how to use Schuyler's Big Box of Words in its most advanced, 84-button configuration. (She's been using it in a 45 button setup since shortly after we arrived in Plano, along with most of the rest of her Box Class.) Her team announced a couple of months ago that she needed a more advanced vocabulary and wanted to begin the transition to 84, but it's a slow process. The buttons are in different places, there are more of them to remember, and even the language works in significantly different ways.

Schuyler is the first kid in her class to make the jump to 84 buttons, so when a training session was set up in Plano specifically to cover this new configuration, Schuyler's whole core team showed up to learn how it works. What a difference from when we were in Austin/Manor, right? Schuyler's Manor teachers couldn't be bothered to show up for training on a device they'd never even seen before; Schuyler's Plano teachers know these devices like no one I've ever met but still show up for more. Moving to Plano is turning out to be one of the best decisions we ever made, and that's without even taking into account its monkey-loving citizens.

While we were taking the class, Schuyler's teacher informed us that she'd scored a 100% on her weekly spelling test that morning. This wasn't the first time, either; Schuyler has found a school subject that she can obsess over, and that's spelling. It's awesome. I have to confess, it is my not-so-secret dream for her to be a writer when she's older. I know that sounds like typical parent "pushing my kid to do what I do" behavior, but it's not like I'm trying to get her to follow in my footsteps by playing the accordion or taking over the family funeral home business. Writing skillfully will help her in almost any line of work and/or personal fulfillment she chooses. Don't look at me like that.

So yes. Schuyler loves spelling, and she's getting good at it. What she can't do, however, is write, at least not very well. Her polymicrogyria affects her fine motor skills, and the easiest way to see the results of that impairment is in her handwriting. She can write the words, but just like her speech, it can be close to unintelligible. We work with her on it, but it's a losing battle and everyone seems to know it. (We practice using huge sheets of paper; even then, she almost always runs out of paper before she runs out of word, and ends up bending the path of her alien hieroglyphs in strange directions, rendering them unreadable but strangely artistic, almost beautiful, even.)

But because of her AAC device (the one that her Austin/Manor teachers told us she would probably never be capable of using, remember), it doesn't matter. Schuyler can spell her words there, and her teacher can print it off so she can have something tangible on which to write 100%. Yeah, how do you like my kid NOW?

(There's an interesting new development with Schuyler's BBoW, by the way, but I think I'm just going to spring it on you soon, so watch for that.)

We decided to reward her spelling prowess by taking her to her favorite eatery, the Purple Cow (as always, also referred to as "the Purple MILF" because of all the Plano moms who go there to be seen), and then to the toy store. Part of the reason was to buy a birthday present for one of her classmates, but I also told her to pick something out that she wanted since she was quickly becoming a little spelling Jedi.

She walked down the aisles, and inevitably we stepped up to the pink zone, the aisle on which Barbie and all her little girl issues lay waiting to tempt Schuyler once again.

But this time, she merely glanced down at the wall of frou-frou and then kept on walking.

Because Schuyler is in one of her monster phases again.

(We already had an idea that she was moving in that direction over dinner. Call it a hunch.)

Last summer, on the occasion of buying Schuyler the coolest dinosaur toy ever created by the human race ever, I wrote an entry called Schuyler's New Monster. It wasn't even the first time I ever wrote about her fixation with giant scary monsters. Back then, I ended the entry like this:

I've written at length about her affinity for King Kong and dinosaurs and big scary beasts that scare most kids. Schuyler faces her own monster without flinching, and I truly believe that in her imaginary world, she goes into battle against that monster with her sword drawn and pink hair flying out Valkyrie-like from under her viking helmet, and she does so with a small army of her own monsters at her back.

As we left Toys-R-Us, she played with her new monster, watching him writhe and roar with a look of phony fear and rapt amazement. She held him up so he could see the lightning flashing in the distance and threatened other drivers with his big teeth and nasty disposition. Then she hugged him and kissed him and put him on the seat beside her, insisting that we buckle him in. Nothing staves off extinction like good common safety sense.

Now, as I write this, he is laying on the couch, covered by the blanket that she brought for him and tucked him under. I swear, he looks almost happy.

Tonight, it was a dragon.

I have to admit, it is a very cool dragon (in nerd-speak, it's a "Wyvern"), part of a whole collection (based on the Dragonology books) that treats them like living creatures being studied like something on a National Geographic special. This particular dragon apparently lives in Africa, is fifty feet long, and eats elephants, hippos and rhinos.

Schuyler was fascinated by that detail. A dragon that eats elephants? The whole way home, from the back seat, she kept signing "elephant" and asking me if that was really true. Her little mind was blown by something that big and bad. After we got home, she flew her dragon around the apartment, as if he was looking for something. When I asked what he was searching for, she said "elephants".

When she asked, I told her it was true, by the way. Perhaps I lied to my child, but I'll sacrifice Truth for Wonder every time. She'll get plenty of Truth as it is.