Posts Tagged ‘dyslexia’

Taking a Little Test

March 24, 2015

Nora at the beach

(The beach has nothing to do with the test.)

Today was the long awaited day when I took the Colombian princess to a reading specialist for testing to determine if this homeschool mama had just “lost her touch” or if there is something else going on in that cute little dark-haired, dimpled head. As requested upon arrival, I sat at the table with the teacher and my daughter the whole four-hours-when-I-planned-on-getting-stuff-done time. When she initially stated “stay during the testing” I translated that to “be in the house” not “pay attention for four hours.”  My mistake.

So this is what I learned from the testing: I have OCD WAY worse than I originally anticipated. There were crumbs on the table…. WITH the animal flash cards and the blue and white bottle caps used for Morse code. I believe I was the only one who noticed them. Miniature crumbs…. a red hole punch, bread crumbs, half a staple and (gag-reflex warning) a fingernail. EWWWW. Just EWWW!  But my self control is also WAY more advanced than it used to be. Those items are STILL on that table… and I’m not there to worry about them any more.

The plaid and sunflower placemat would have needed to be removed for me to put ten animal flash cards in line. WAY too much going on for this sister. I’m not sure what that means…. it could also be OCD, but visual clutter makes me crazy. Hmmmmmm. This could explain a few mountains I have to climb every time I want to work at my desk.

My auditory memory is quite good for letters and words, but not for numbers. This was a test for an 11-year-old and I knew I couldn’t pass it. A sheet with numbers 1-100 (in order) was placed on the table and she was given three sets of instructions before she could follow the directions. “Draw a line from 27 to 34. Draw a line from 78-79. Draw a line from 17-20.” Bam. That was it. By the time drawing commenced, I could barely remember the last combination of numbers, let alone the first two sets. And math was my favorite. I love numbers. I simply don’t remember them. This may explain why I can’t tell Mr. Wallet how much groceries were upon returning from the store. I don’t know!  Look at the receipt, Mr. Math-a-Holic!

Walking backwards on a balance beam is hard, especially toe to heel.

The good news is, after discussing my case of dyslexia for the first time in history with a professional, mine is a very minor impediment. A one on a scale of 1-5. Which I knew, but it was my very first diagnosis and I’ll be the last number of the 40’s in a few weeks. That’s a long time to go through life knowing something is different and never having discussed it. All my skeletons are now out of the closet.

So the testing was all worth it. We got a two-fer!  2 for 1 and the specialist didn’t even know it.

P.S. Nora did great!

Is this Old Age setting in?

August 12, 2010

I have come to realize over the years that I have some sort of mild case of dyslexia…. especially when I’m tired.  I’ll be typing along and realize that I used the right finger in the right place, but it was the wrong hand.  Also, if I quickly look at a phone number and then try to dial it, I’ll reverse the last numbers.  This has not hampered me in life, other than having more of a need for spell check than most, I’m assuming.  And I’m real careful with numbers, especially if they are important ones…. like credit cards or bank accounts.

All that to say….. this mild learning difference has now creeped into my speech.  I’ll be chatting along and I’ll use a word that starts with the right letter, but is ENTIRELY the wrong word.  Just this morning I was attempting to say, “I was standing on the porch” and it came out, “I was standing on the pillow.”  Same letter, different word, WHOLE different meaning in the sentence.  My kids find this absolutely hilarious, as kids often do.  I’ve asked for the stapler but said sandwich.  I’ve commanded, “Go make your bed!” but when it came out, “Go make your band-aid!” it threw kids on the floor holding their bellies in loud guffaws. 

My thoughtful children have moved my disability to a new level of gaming….. they hear the word the makes no sense, and it’s a contest to see who can come up with the right word first.  I love the competitive spirit!