Great Misconceptions

Last year, our son took a non-verbal test along with the rest of the kindergarteners at his school. He tested off the charts in reading and reasoning. We were invited to add his name to a waiting list at the gifted magnet school, but for some reason we did not do it. Now, we are in the fourth week of first grade, and he's bored. On the first day of school, he sadly told me he wanted to go back to kindergarten. He'd had a fantastic teacher, and the class was wonderfully dynamic. Heck, I wanted to go back to kindergarten, too! 

So now we're diving into the world of advocating for our gifted child. I've already learned not to talk about this with other parents. They don't understand how it breaks my heart that our son isn't being challenged, and that the school is content to allow him to languish. Well, he's languishing himself into an upset stomach every day. We chose this particular school based largely on its reputation and their claim that they "teach to every child's ability." So much for that.

Giftedness is nothing to smirk or crow about, especially if your child is suffering due to his or her abilities. Gifted kids will check out mentally if they aren't being challenged. They learn quickly to dread school, which is utterly horrible to witness when they were so excited about it at first. Kids who are inquisitive and imaginative at home will sit silent in the classroom, fearful of being teased or just plain disgusted that they are having to sit through a lesson they already learned. Because I work for a publisher that publishes books about giftedness, I've learned a few things about how to reach out to our gifted students and make them feel like part of a community, not to exclude them for their learning abilities. I'm not an expert-I'm a rookie who's read a few books written by people in the field who know what they're talking about. I want to help my cheerful, happy boy rediscover his passion for learning. 

The last thing I want to do is tear my son away from kids he's known since preschool and heave him into a new school where he knows no one. But what choice do I have if the principal refuses to make any changes for the kids who are learning at a different level from their age peers? Mine is not the only kid who is a gifted learner. Where are the other parents? Picking their children up from other schools, I imagine. 

Perfectly Imperfect

I love reading other parent blogs, especially those that are well written and clever. I admire sardonic wit (well, any wit, actually) and sarcasm. And I especially love reading about other families' humorous anecdotes. But what I'm growing weary of is the wealth of bloggers that seem to lead charmingly perfect lives. Where are the whining kids, the meltdowns, the daily worry? Or are these not the topics that other parents want to read about?

My son is a hoot, to be sure, and he's begun to test out his own personal sense of humor. He knocks me out with his questions. "Mom, do McCain and Obama disagree?"  Ummm, ya think? And I swell with pride when I can almost see his brain growing when he masters a new task. But he's also a very normal six-year-old. He has trouble losing. He is miles away from grasping the difference between feeling an emotion and expressing it. He sometimes seems to be a year or two younger than his friends. And almost every day, we struggle to help him understand which social behaviors will endear him to others and which might distance him from his peers. Isn't anyone else going through this with their children? 

At a neighborhood bonfire and hot-dog roast last night, the host saw the stress on my and my husband's faces as we tried to coach our son through incident after incident. We're all in the same boat, she assured us. It was tremendously comforting to hear this from another mom, but later that night we realized we still have a million questions. Where are the blogs about helping your child develop resiliency? About other young boys who love to sing and dance and who draw quizzical looks when they express that love? About kids who are reading well above their grade level but who still seek comfort objects many attribute to younger children? 

I adore my son and I celebrate his strengths and his uniqueness every day. We encourage having your feelings in our house, and we try to teach tolerance above all else. All I can hope for is that our son will be met with the same level of tolerance that he feels for others. How do we explain to him how important it is to learn to get along with others, when we don't see that being reciprocated all that often? So many questions. Where's that owner's manual? 

A Bump in the Night

Earlier this week, as I was trying to fall asleep, I thought I heard banging. After a few minutes, I heard it again. Someone was banging on our front door in the worst way. By now, I was out of bed, looking out of the front windows. There were two or three police squads in front of our house. That's when I got dressed.

My husband was just closing the door as I reached the main floor of our house. "What is it?" I asked. He told me the police were responding to an alarm at our neighbor's house, and they couldn't reach anyone at her home. Her lights were on, her front door was ajar (though the front porch door was closed and locked) and all seemed quiet, but try as they might (and boy, did they try) they could not find a living creature at home. They asked us if we had a key to her house, which we didn't. I tried to go back to bed, but by now I was wide awake with worry. If her alarm was going off, why wasn't she responding to the banging on her own front door? Was she in trouble? Was there someone in the house with her, preventing her from getting out? 

Eventually, the police left, and we noticed our neighbor's lights had been doused. I tossed and turned all night. We should have a key to her home, as she should have one to ours. I was upset that the police didn't try to force their way into the house (even though I know that the police cannot just break your door down if your alarm goes off... but still). I was a little scared. 

The next day, I was a bit of a train wreck, having had no sleep. I was on the watch for our neighbor, and I was relieved when I heard that she had merely slept through all of the excitement. We exchanged keys and cell phone numbers, and laughed over what now seemed over the top. But inside, I still felt a little cautious, a little more aware that things can and do happen, that danger can come into our home in the middle of the night. It's good to know that one next-door neighbor is looking out for me and my family, and I for her. 

Careful What You Wish For

Sometimes it seems that we never get what we want, or what we think we want, doesn't it? We wish for money, or a pony (in my case, I'm still waiting for that pony...), or any number of things. But then, when we finally get something we wished for, we don't even realize it for the longest time. 

Just recently, my husband and I were quibbling about the weather. We had an unusually long winter here in Minnesota, and by May, Tim was more than ready for some heat and sunshine. I had to admit I was weary of being cold all of the time, but I don't mind the winters like he does. When summer finally did arrive, Tim was delighted when the mercury climbed to ninety and the humidity poured in, which wasn't very often. As August passed, he harrumped that we had had very few days that were warm enough to swim. All the while, I was wishing for autumn. I come alive in the cool, crisp weather, and when its hot outside, I'll curl up with the air conditioning, thank you very much. During the last week of August, we traveled to the North Shore, where it was deliciously cool and fall-like. I was in heaven! Upon arriving back home, the real summertime returned, and how: the temps soared into the nineties and it was as muggy as Florida. And then, just in time for the first day of school, the temperature plummeted about 25 degrees in one day. We went from summer to fall in a matter of hours, and its been cool ever since. Just today, I realized, I'd gotten my wish. 

Earlier this summer, our cat was accidentally let out of the house. I didn't realize he was gone until he'd been gone for 24 hours, and then I was desperate. He's old and ornery, and he's never forgiven us for allowing his brother to die three years ago. And boy is he vocal about it! He yowls day in and day out. Not the cute little kitten mews that some adult cats have, but a "What the heck have you DONE to me??!" yowl. He makes me insane some days, and I  (I hate to admit this) found myself thinking, well, he'll be gone soon. Then he got out of the house and he truly was gone. I had gotten my wish, and how horrible it was. I searched the neighborhood, convinced that he'd been injured in a fight with a bullying tomcat. I finally had to tell our son that the cat had gone on an adventure, and he might not come home. Then, that evening, after three days of liberty, he came home without a scratch on him. He's still yowling and still making me crazy, but I'm a wee bit more tolerant of it now. It wasn't his time to go. I'd gotten my wish, and then had another promptly granted. Creepy. 

Do we recognize these things when they are so seemingly mundane? How hard we wish on those evening stars when we're young. How fervently we wish for a windfall, or a cure, or a job, or a new car. But when our small wishes are granted, are they any less magical? Only if we don't pay attention.