Jennifer Shaw

Hi! Thanks for being here. I can’t believe it’s July; the warm months are flying by, though we’ve had a few long, difficult days in our summer household.

Daphne’s visual schedule is still helping, but I admit that last week, I wasn’t as disciplined with it as I should have been. We used it daily, but I let it go a couple evenings there as the week waned. There was also a day–Thursday–when we didn’t do any academic or therapeutic activities. Instead, we played for a longer stretch outside before going to the Burke Mountain pool. Daph was also on YouTube Kids for longer periods than she was the week prior, and I didn’t sprint as often as I did last week, though I did accomplish a solid chunk of writing on Wednesday night. The cost of that? Some great plot development but Thursday fatigue, which only made the hours longer and all the chores harder.

I’m drafting this post on Sunday, June 30th, and I’ll add that, on top of our imperfect week, our weekend with our daughter has been rough. On Saturday we took her to Jay Peak, a slightly larger, nicer ski complex about an hour away that also boasts an indoor water park. We wanted to see whether she might like swimming there–sometimes, indoor pools are hard on her ears, and I’m not always fond of their weird temperatures or echoey acoustics either. The facilities were all better than I expected, and Daph got excited seeing all the pools and water features. She didn’t quite understand, however, that we were only there to see if she liked it, not to swim. She struggled to transition out of the building and nearly had an awful meltdown, all of which happened after she had an accident sitting at the beverage bar overlooking the swim area. Her dad bought her some pants in the souvenir shop and I changed her in the ladies’ room before we dragged her out. She had two more accidents that night, one on the couch and one in her bed. I’m not sure why that’s happening except it just does, sometimes. Occasionally, we go through brief periods of potty regression, usually around the time our routines have changed or been disrupted.

Today hasn’t been any easier. We went back to Lebanon to buy her some new clothes because she’s growing so fast, and in the Gap she was yelling and throwing things, so I took her outside to walk around while her dad finished shopping. When she told me on her AAC iPad she wanted to “drink water,” I replied that we would get some bottled water soon since I could see her dad at the register paying for everything. Well, she got even angrier and smashed that iPad (her talker) on the sidewalk, completely shattering the screen and rendering it useless.

Luckily, we have a new, spare iPad already, but of course her dad and I were furious at her behavior. She’s been in on-again, off-again timeout here at home ever since.

Her biggest challenge right now is anger management, an issue that has only developed within the last year. We always explain things to her, and I think she generally understands us, but sometimes she can’t control her swells of temper. So, being non-speaking, she throws things or, worse, hits or bites people. It’s her easiest, fastest way to communicate her feelings (and, as heart-breaking and upsetting as it is for us, I’m sure it’s even harder for her).

Hence, smashing her iPad down on the unforgiving sidewalk. I’ll hand it to Apple–the iPads can usually take a rug or even a wood floor to the face. They can’t take the concrete, though.

I’m not sure what we’re going to do about all of this, beyond modeling how to use her words to express her emotions on her talker. We’re also using natural consequences, an approach to discipline her diagnosing psychiatrist recommended years ago. Today, the natural consequence of her behavior was not having her talker iPad for the rest of the day. When she fussed for music, we reminded her repeatedly that she did not have her talker because she broke it, and this was the result. And, since that was such egregious behavior (we didn’t use that exact word, don’t worry), she’d lost her other screen privileges for the rest of the day, too.

I’m not sure these things will be enough.

We’ll see.

*Sigh*

It will help to start fresh tomorrow.

I’m choosing to channel Scarlett O’Hara here:

On the bright side, we’re heading into a summer month with a little more prescribed structure. Daphne’s extended school year services (aka summer school) begin on Tuesday, and twice a week she will go to her elementary campus for math, reading, writing, speech, and occupational therapy. Her Sp-Ed teacher will be there working with her, and–best of all–she will attend from 8-11:30 am. Suddenly, this sounds like such a huge chunk of time! I’m salivating thinking of all the great reading and writing (and quiet) time I’ll have to myself.

I think it will actually help Daph feel better, too. I know the days at home with just us can get boring no matter how much I try to fill her time. It will be good for her to be back with some of her school friends; Daph was quite popular among the second graders. The couple of times I was in her classroom for presentations or field trips, I saw how kind and supportive they were and how much some of them loved her.

I will also have more structure for myself in the form of my virtual summer writing camp, which also begins this week.

Our wonderful group The Writer’s Sanctuary is hosting their second virtual camp event, and we’ve been sorted into Zoom “cabins” where, all July, we’ll meet twice a week–once for a group writing sprint and once for a round robin of critiques. We were sorted according to our time zone availability, and I’m both excited and nervous to be the least experienced and least accomplished member in my group. The other three ladies in Flower Power, our cabin, are all self-published, and one is set to query literary agents in the traditional publishing world soon. I’m familiar with her writing–she’s talented, and I’ve silently admired her work ethic, her newsletter and author socials, her commercially-appealing plots, and her crisp prose for a while now, so I’m excited to get to know her better.

I hope I can offer these lovely ladies some quality feedback, and I hope my writing doesn’t strike them as horribly thin or amateurish. I’m planning to share a ghost story I wrote back in September for my first critique, one that I’m considering submitting to a few genre magazines, and it definitely needs some development. This is the perfect opportunity to improve it, but it’s also not my best piece so part of me feels like I’m not putting my best foot forward. This is ridiculous, I know; it’s not a competition about who can make the best impression with the best writing. I’ll get the most out of this if I offer something that really needs the help, but I also don’t want these fellow writers to think negatively of my skill. These are all my own insecurities, and I’m working hard to counter them.

Mindset. It’s so important to have the right mindset.

I just happened to see a reel by Megan Fairchild on Instagram; she’s a principal dancer with the New York City Ballet (and a recovering perfectionist, she would tell you). She was describing how she’s cultivated a “my lane” attitude throughout her years in an excruciatingly tough, competitive art form. She’s learned to think of her dancing as if she were swimming laps–she has her own lane and is working only on her own artistry and timing, competing only with herself to be her best. What others do around her is not really her business, she says. Her message is nothing new, but today it was a good reminder as I felt butterflies at the thought of being so vulnerable during group critique. But, I have to embrace that vulnerability if I want to make the most of our sessions.

The fact that I am the least experienced writer in my cabin is a good thing. I can soak up so much from these ladies… it’s like being the dumbest person in the room, really, and realizing all the things you’ll be able to learn because you have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Also, I’ve had nothing but good experiences receiving feedback from other members of The Red Herrings Society within the Writer’s Sanctuary. It’s all been kind and constructive and has truly helped me grow, so I have no reason to think this will be any different, despite the more formal context.

And feedback is amazing. It’s opened my eyes to weaknesses or points of confusion in all the pieces I’ve shared that I never saw myself. It’s fascinating in that way and a powerful reminder that, at a certain point, there’s nothing else you can do on your own to improve your work. You need others’ eyes; writing to publish is truly a collaborative experience.

I will let you know how writer’s camp goes. 🙂

To end on a final positive note–I received word on Friday the 21st that another literary magazine, Paper Cranes, has accepted another of my flash fiction pieces for publication in their debut issue! This was thrilling and felt like a true accomplishment because I know it’s one of my best pieces. I can’t wait to feel my own swell of pride when I see this piece, “In Dreams and After,” in print. Here’s what the editors said about it: “The story is beautiful and has a certain poignancy to it that we’re looking for… This will make a wonderful addition to this issue.”

Yay! So, if all goes according to plan, I will have four little publications by the end of this year.

And guess what? I was able to submit such a lyrical story because I received some gentle yet honest feedback from my sharp friend Gloria, a fellow writer in The Red Herrings Society.

Yes. Feedback is indispensable. I don’t think Paper Cranes would have accepted my piece without her help.

I’d love to hear your experience with critiques and feedback of all sorts. Have you received some invaluable advice on a piece you’ve written, something you’ve done, or just life in general? Please don’t hesitate to share.

That’s all for now, and I hope you have a great start to this new month.

Happy Fourth of July, too!

XOXO,

Jenn