I was astounded while reading this article from the New York Times, about the revised estimate of the prevalence of Autism, when I came to this passage:
The new estimate is about the same as one from a study published in October, which found a rate of slightly more than 1 in 100 children who received a diagnosis. Yet that study, based on a phone survey of 78,000 households, also found that almost 40 percent of the children who had received an autism spectrum diagnosis grew out of it or no longer had the diagnosis.
(I tried to find more information on the study, but only a summary was available, and there was nothing about children who were no longer diagnosed.)
Understand, I'm not dismissing the results of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention study (which was based on an analysis of medical records of 400,000 children), but I can't help but wonder how valid a conclusion can be reached based on a medical study conducted by phone. More importantly, though, what criteria do you use to determine who "grew out" of the diagnosis? Is that a medical opinion — or a parent's hope? Are parents really having their children re-diagnosed?
28 December 2009
Jump
I'm watching my seven-year-old son, strapped into some sort of safety harness attached to bungee cords, launched into the air at a distance that's easily six or seven times his height (though it must be more). It's a sort of reverse bungee jump. He does this four or five times, landing on a trampoline to be propelled back up again.
I wonder — could I have done that when I was his age? I know I certainly wouldn't want to do it now.
I wonder — could I have done that when I was his age? I know I certainly wouldn't want to do it now.
25 December 2009
22 December 2009
Honest
The great thing about my seven-year-old is that when he says he's not feeling well, and that he doesn't want to go to school, it's because he really doesn't feel well. (I'm enjoying not having to read between the lines, while I still can.)
Of course, later that morning he was feeling much better. (At 11:00 AM he suggested I bring him to school, but by then it was too late.) He'd be his energetic seven-year-old self, but when I'd remind him that he wasn't feeling well, all of that energy would evaporate in an instant — for a few minutes, at least. I know he really did feel poorly this morning, but I think he felt obligated to play that part when called upon for the rest of the day. Somewhere between getting away with something, and intentionally getting away with something.
Of course, later that morning he was feeling much better. (At 11:00 AM he suggested I bring him to school, but by then it was too late.) He'd be his energetic seven-year-old self, but when I'd remind him that he wasn't feeling well, all of that energy would evaporate in an instant — for a few minutes, at least. I know he really did feel poorly this morning, but I think he felt obligated to play that part when called upon for the rest of the day. Somewhere between getting away with something, and intentionally getting away with something.
21 December 2009
Pennies, Dimes and Nickels
I have been thoroughly defeated by this problem from my seven-year-old's math practice homework:
Sharla has 12 coins. She has 70¢. How many pennies, dimes, and nickels does she have?
We worked on this together for five or ten minutes, then I worked on it for five minutes more. I tried all sorts of different combinations — nothing fit! I give up — I'm sending it in with a note for the teacher, in the hope that she'll return the answer.
Sharla has 12 coins. She has 70¢. How many pennies, dimes, and nickels does she have?
We worked on this together for five or ten minutes, then I worked on it for five minutes more. I tried all sorts of different combinations — nothing fit! I give up — I'm sending it in with a note for the teacher, in the hope that she'll return the answer.
18 December 2009
Find
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a Private Detective (or a "Licensed Private Investigator," to use the official term)? I have. I enjoy research — following the pieces of a puzzle, putting them together to see where they might lead (and you never know what unexpected surprises might lie under stones not turned).
You can't really hide — not any more. You might be surprised (or, depending on who you are, perhaps embarrassed) at how much information — even photographs! — are available, if you know where (or how) to look, or stumble. You'd have to go out of your way to be "UnGoogleable," but even then, there are still slender threads, waiting to be pulled.
I've been piecing together a puzzle of my own. My questions aren't so easily answered by Google, but that just makes them more interesting.
You can't really hide — not any more. You might be surprised (or, depending on who you are, perhaps embarrassed) at how much information — even photographs! — are available, if you know where (or how) to look, or stumble. You'd have to go out of your way to be "UnGoogleable," but even then, there are still slender threads, waiting to be pulled.
I've been piecing together a puzzle of my own. My questions aren't so easily answered by Google, but that just makes them more interesting.
17 December 2009
Roads Not Taken
This is what I get for not paying attention: I've just discovered, a week before Christmas, that my Christmas-themed book had somehow become all but unavailable through Amazon.com. (You could buy a copy, sure, but you'd have had to pay well over $100 to an individual seller.) I've no idea how long this has been the case, and I've no idea why — even if it wasn't in stock, the book is still very much available from the distributor.(For what it's worth, I've quickly listed the book at cover price, available from me.)