Mr. Rogan, Just Thinking. ...

I watched the brief clip of you with the president elect, Donald Trump, engaged in friendly banter on your podcast, Mr. Rogan. The relaxed exchange of ideas, thoughts and laughter were a pleasant departure in this age of unsettling digital technology. Later that day, with my adorable 86 pound Wiggler by my side, I heard yet another guest comment on the rule-implied or stated- of your 3-hour conversational limit. In that moment i realized i could fulfill your mandate.

Your podcast is rated #1, worldwide, with a daily audience in the millions. In a month your tally could be in the billions. Wow, what a monumental feat. Mr.Trump opened up a new world for himself by accepting your invitation to appear on your podcast. It was a new age communicating tool for him to explore. It would be for me, also. My message is clear.

Special education has resonated with me for decades. I was asked to join the primary intensive language classroom of the school our 3 boys attended by the primary lead teacher of the class. It was 1994. Yeast dough was born, this educational tool, a 5 sense brain stimulation program for special children. It was higher order thinking at its best.. 

Questioning and language skills were highlighted  because of this new approach and the miracles began to happen. Conversation - not baking- was the intent of this well thought out dough program. Coloring was not on my to do list. And then the revolution began, lasting nearly 5 years. (Other passions - animals, music/dance - integral parts of a healthy learning spec. ed life)

In the Fall of '98,  Dr. Marion Cleeves Diamond, world renown neuroscientist, called me at home early one morning about my higher order thinking program for special children. It was about using yeast dough in the classroom. In her work Dr. Diamond was using mice; I, children in regards to brain stimulation. I was validated that September. (I had written her weeks earlier about her work, similar to mine)

The power for children lies in being able to think for themselves. I became a parent of a preemie son, born over 3 months too soon. The year was 1979. The study of the preterm infant hadn't begun till 1980. Books became my lifeline. Two more sons followed, 3 boys within 4 years, all preterm and ready to play for life.

Core Knowledge, a U.S. lesson sharing teacher organization, garnered my attention one day. It was a futile attempt on my part to connect with them. I tried two years in a row. Letters to 200 U.S. Boards of Ed. followed next with little response..Was the 'thinking' part of my letter that turned them off? I wondered till I wondered no more. Let's play follow the leader, not always but sometimes and only when it makes sense. common sense. Move on, momsey, move on!

My first day as a mom laser focused my life's purpose. It was the day of his homecoming- one month ahead of his original due date at 5 pounds, 2 ounce. What did I want for this tiny human, my son? It was then that I realized that a thinking child was a safer one, a happier one, a smarter one, one who did not need me there to think for him. He would know and it would be one less job for me. My application form was already full! 

What each child desires, if only momentarily, has to matter. Self-worth was on the line. Using 'no' as a standard reply played no part and served no purpose in raising our boys. Giving them the tools for the desired result was always the name of the adult game. You want it, you earn it. Simple and direct. Worked every time. The playing field was uneven: the power structure, one way. The teen years would soon show me the result of my 'no curfews, thinking man's' directive.  And I was just girl.

==========================

As a former secondary school special needs teacher/ music enthusiast,  17 year elementary school parent volunteer, an award winner, pet parent for over 53 years and counting, a grandmother to 7 under 7 and  blogger. Conversation is the cornerstone to success in life. I gave 3 speeches, all humbling and gratifying experiences. I was instructed to write by an 18 year old girl, a musician and company president. Her boyfriend, my son, designed the MomseyBlog- 12 years ago.

==========================

A year ago, during a 2 hour 'junior podcast', we entertained our grandsons, 2 and 5, inside the cavity of an 11-year old Chev. Avalanche parked in an outlet mall. Santa pictures had just been taken. For 2 hours, as mom and dad scurried about to finish their holiday shopping duties, grandpa and baba engaged in conversation with these young 'scientists' with questions and problems, keeping them busy, thinking and actively engaged. The interior of the truck became their playground. With boots removed, the boys climbed, laughed, drew, spoke and queried us all. Being peppered with questions became a game, a comical one at that. 

How many white cars are parked over there, I asked?..How many three wheeled cars are there?("None, of course, baba"). "Why not", I asked? Because......Why are there different numbers painted on the sky high windows of this mall? “Where are we?” “What do you think?” Explain please... “Everything is fine”I replied when mom and dad called, 1 hour later. The fun an unending exercise for all.

With smiling faces and hugs aplenty, they surprised me, again. ”That was the best time ever, baba” Yes, it was my precious boys. It certainly was.