What Color is Monday?

When I was about eight years old, I remember my older brother had a golden palomino horse named Sunday. One day he asked me, "What color is Sunday?" I gave him the obvious answer, "Yellow."

He agreed with me and went on.  "What color is Monday?"

It became clear to me at that point that he was not talking about his horse.

"Monday is red," I answered.

"No, Monday is blue," he responded.

Blue? How could anyone think that Monday is blue?

And Tuesday is orangish-yellow, Wednesday is green, Thursday is brown, Friday is black, and Saturday is colorless. Poor Saturday, I always thought. Why doesn't Saturday have a color?

I recently found out that there is a name for this phenomenon. It is listed as a "condition" in abnormal psychology textbooks called synesthesia, although it is not listed in the DSM IV manual because those who have synesthesia are not handicapped or disabled in any way. In fact, those who experience this "condition" find it enjoyable.

This is very fascinating to me. My husband thinks I am bonkers. He sees everything like I see Saturday, colorless. I can't even imagine a colorless world.

So, I asked the question at the dinner table last night. "Okay kids, what color is Monday?"

Kevin immediately said, "Yellow."

Ania objected, "No, it's orange."

Philip started laughing, and Lucia didn't say a word.

"Orange? Yellow?" I cried, "No, it's red!"

Kevin and Ania see in color. Philip and Lucia do not.

Upon further investigation, Ania was quick to agree with me that Saturday is colorless. She described it as "clear."

We then began to compare months, letters, the fifty states, and countries. Kevin is a musician and he sees chords and whole songs in color. Ania is an artist and she and her artsy friend have whole conversations about what color things are. I tend to see letters in color, and then whatever letter the word starts with, that is the color of that word. There are some exceptions to this. Some letters are colorless, like poor Saturday, so then the combination of letters determine the color of the word.

One very neat correlation I just became cognisant of is that of our school to God. Jesus is red, and Christ is a golden yellow. The Holy Spirit is white and gold. Red, white, and gold happen to be the colors of our school. And for the Alleluia Community School, Jesus reigns supreme! Thank you, Lord, for constantly revealing your hand in my life in the most fascinating ways!

So, if anyone comes up to you and asks, "What color is Monday?" they really are not asking a stupid question. They really may want to know.

Ritalin Was Not Our Answer

Several years ago my second grader brought home a note from his teacher suggesting that we seek medical help for ADD/ADHD type behavior at school.  We had contemplated a dye-free diet the previous year, since we had already observed this ourselves, but never acted on it. It seemed such a time consuming, tedious venture. Now, with the advent of the note, it was time to reconsider.

I was familiar with the diet known as The Feingold Diet since my baby brother had been on it when I was 13. My mom swore by it, and was convinced it was the answer to my brother's ADHD. So, my husband went to our child's teacher and asked her to give us a two week trial. He asked her to keep a tally of any type of inappropriate behavior in the classroom and send it home at the end of each week.

We implemented the Feingold Diet immediately for the whole family, however it took a little while for the effects to be noticed. When the first week came to an end, our child brought home a note with over 2 dozen tally marks. We grit our teeth, dug in our heels, and continued on into the second week.  However, before Friday even arrived, the teacher contacted my husband and said, "What did you do? I can't believe this is the same child! Whatever you are doing, keep doing it!"

And we have been doing it now for seven years.

I have had several friends inquire about this diet in the past two weeks, so I decided to post this short testimony. It does take time and effort to learn which foods are permitted and which ones aren't, (there is more to it than just limiting dyes), but for our family it was definitely worth the effort. Not only did it keep our child (children) off medicine, but even more importantly, it kept our relationship with him in tact, since he could control his own behavior, and we didn't have to.  Check it out for yourself at www.feingold.org.

Shape Up Twice for the Price

One of my new year's ambitions is to get back into shape.  I wasn't in the greatest shape before my cancer treatments began, but the aftermath is not pretty.  My muscles ache, I have put on a few pounds, and my energy level is still low. My doctor says this is normal, that nearly all the women he has treated have the same complaints, however, I don't have to resign myself to this for the rest of my life. Steps can be made to take back my body.

So, on a particularly rough day, when my students were more rowdy than usual, I texted my husband during  a short break at school:

Me:  What do you think about a treadmill?

Him: Where 2 put it?

Me:  In the computer room minus the couch or the extra kids.

(I meant to say "extra desk" but apparently my mind was more frazzled than I realized).

He stopped by my classroom later (he is a high school teacher on campus) to ask me which of our kids I would consider "extra."

The very next day, my husband brought home a treadmill (that he found on Craig's List) while I was away visiting a sick friend.  He pulled the couch out of the computer room, which displaced all the boxes full of "stuff" that had accumulated over the past year, hiding the couch from view.  I came home to find the treadmill all set up and waiting for me on one side of the room, and a stack of boxes waiting to be sorted through on the other. Now begins the real work, getting things back into shape in more ways than one.