We attended a homeschool conference that was not centered around giftedness recently. My husband attended with me, and we learned some valuable things that can be applied to our daughter, our home, etc. However, it was a bit disappointing and frustrating, since the giftedness focus seemed to create quite a stumbling block in applying things and limited our options in the exhibitors' booths quite a bit, as well.
The exhibitors . . . it had been a while since I had been that frustrated and uncomfortable.
Salesperson ~ How many do you homeschool?
One
Salesperson ~ how old?
Seven
Salesperson directs us invariably to materials that won't work for us.
As I, who am not shy about interrupting, had a hard time interjecting that we are looking for something different, the salesperson goes on and on without drawing breath.
I tried the approach of "I'm just looking around" without success several times - it did work once, which was faster and easier.
Eventually, I settled on my initial response of "think 3rd to 6th grade" as a starting place to whatever question they started with. Unfortunately, that didn't yield success, either, although it was a faster way to eliminate some of the offerings.
In the end, we found a bit of applicable material, a bit of adaptable material, and whole bunch that just doesn't apply to us.
There are a few scars, though. After some unsuccessful investigating, we decided to be bold and actually admit that we have a highly gifted child on a couple of occasions. Yes, it takes bravery more often than you might think. Here's a little bit of what we got in response to that:
"So just start at a higher level" ~ in some cases high school or college, which were not presented in a way that is interesting to a 7-year-old girl . . . no pink, no buterflies . . . she is still 7, after all.
"That's wonderful! The beauty of homeschooling is that you can just go at your own pace, and we have all the lesson plans and tests and quizzes included for you." ~ this curriculum is just as repetitive as mainstream schools and would yield . . . unfortunate side effects.
"I really don't understand how you can say that you're not finding something that works for that." ~ this was my favorite. I even went so far as to tell her that we were talking about highly gifted to the extent that it is special needs education and not as simple as just going forward; that it needs a different approach. She repeated her earlier comment.
"We have it all divided up into lesson plans and you can do a placement test to find out where to start." Is this obvious to anyone else? When my daughter casually asked me about multiplication over one summer, she mastered single-digit multiplication in 10 minutes. Those lesson plans aren't helpful. We could go broke on these curriculum, "going at our own pace," in an alarmingly short amount of time, and using very few pages of the material . . .
We left the exhibit hall feeling defeated and depleted. This was no small conference, either! My husband put his hand on my back and said, "Well, at least we tried." Five months ago, I was as ignorant of the differences and needs as these people, so I know I shouldn't judge them. Also, they are salespeople; their job isn't to solve every problem, but to sell their materials. However, when it affects our only child and us dramatically, I can get emotional about it quickly.
We ran into a woman who my husband knew from many years ago at this same conference, and we sat with her for a bit. After we opened up to her about our daughter, she told us about hers - the same age who reads at the same level. She never thought of her child as gifted, which is something I've heard many people within the giftedness groups we have joined echo. I told her that I felt the same way in December. Her eyes got big, then she thought a bit, her expression fell and she said "it's not all the time" - that sometimes she goes nuts because of the immaturity. My husband and I spoke at once. I said, "That's what giftedness is." He said, "Of course! That's an 8 year old. Ours does that, too." All at once, this woman's eyes changed and she started to wonder. I gave her a couple of resources, as well as my e-mail address, and she left looking hopeful.
I very much hope everyone finds solutions that work for them, whether or not they are like ours.
I also went to the conference desk and left specific feedback about inviting presenters I respect in the area of giftedness and expressing my disappointment that it wasn't better represented there. Interestingly, the 2 women working the info booth have giftedness experience within their own families, whether children or grandchildren, and one studied it in college.
I am doing what I can, but it's easy to feel alone and/or misunderstood. I refuse to give up.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Monday, April 9, 2012
Dinner Conversation
The good news is that Easter dinner conversation didn't include anything about snails eating dead shrimp, as it was not at our house. However, it was a very interesting Easter conversation around the table.
We were eating ribs, and M started asking about the food.
M ~ Ribs of an animal?
me ~ yep. All meat comes from animals. So do eggs (gesturing to deviled eggs)
Grandpa ~ ribs from a pig. [said with much gusto and a smirk]
M (between bites) ~ Do pigs have cartilage?
Grandma ~ no.
me ~ yes.
Grandma ~ well, not in the part we're eating. Ribs don't move.
me ~ yes they do.
M inspects her food, using her fingers to explore for cartilage.
Grandma ~ yeah, well not like a knee or elbow. They don't move far.
me ~ They have cartilage at the joints where they attach to the spine.
At this point, I started thinking about the Chronicles of Narnia where the children overhear the giants' conversation about a talking horse that had been prepared for the meal they were eating. Awkward.
It felt like another "new normal" kind of moment, so I wanted to share . . .
We were eating ribs, and M started asking about the food.
M ~ Ribs of an animal?
me ~ yep. All meat comes from animals. So do eggs (gesturing to deviled eggs)
Grandpa ~ ribs from a pig. [said with much gusto and a smirk]
M (between bites) ~ Do pigs have cartilage?
Grandma ~ no.
me ~ yes.
Grandma ~ well, not in the part we're eating. Ribs don't move.
me ~ yes they do.
M inspects her food, using her fingers to explore for cartilage.
Grandma ~ yeah, well not like a knee or elbow. They don't move far.
me ~ They have cartilage at the joints where they attach to the spine.
At this point, I started thinking about the Chronicles of Narnia where the children overhear the giants' conversation about a talking horse that had been prepared for the meal they were eating. Awkward.
It felt like another "new normal" kind of moment, so I wanted to share . . .
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Stereotypes
Since we started homeschooling, we have multiple new "normals" to incorporate. A relative was assigned to do a paper about homeschooling, and contacted me for information, even though we are new. Our family is full of teachers who work in public schools and her mother also works in the schools. Her grandmother has no idea what to tell people about me and our decision to homeschool, I hear. When she was given the topic of homeschooling (at a good public school that many in our family have attended), she probably wasn't excited.
I gave her information on our situation and experience, and copied a number of others who are involved in homsechooling, so that they'd get more variety and in-depth feedback from people who are more experienced. The theme that came back from others was the stereotype about homeschoolers. I hadn't mentioned it, but we have been subjected to stereotypes. I'm also guilty of believing stereotypes about homeschoolers. One of the women copied me and ended her comments with "For the record, I do not own a denim jumper or bonnet." I laughed out loud at that one, and then remembered another conversation.
Someone I am very loosely connected with was kind enough to talk with me about her experience homeschooling several children for years after having been a public school teacher. They are connected with a group that has a long waiting list, and I believe it is Christian-themed. She said that homeschoolers weren't what she expected, but that she didn't know if she expected a row of denim jumpers or what. I guess that must be part of the stereotype since I heard it from two unconnected sources. That same lovely woman used a phrase that stuck with me, since I admire it and agree with it. After most of her opinions, she added, "for us." I believe in multiple right answers and finding the right one for your family. Not all homeschoolers believe there is one right answer.
At a medical office waiting room last week, I was confronted with the stereotype. A mother was there with eight children, and the oldest must have been about 11. Every girl was in a denim skirt, including the mother. The youngest were twins, and two of the older children were clearly responsible for the babies. The reading-aged kids had Bibles open on their laps, but were sneaking peeks at Nickelodeon on the TV in the waiting area whenever their mother was looking at her crochet-work - something pink and white that appeared to be for one of the twins. It was clear that television isn't part of their world. They were VERY well-behaved and seemed very sweet. Combined, they were much quieter than one boy who went in before them. However, if there had been bonnets, I would have been looking for cameras, certain that it was staged.
My brother and his family do very little screen time with their kids, which works great for them and I support. When we began homeschooling, we bought and iPad to use mostly for the apps for our daughter. Our daughter has multiple devotionals and her own full NIV Bible that she knows how to look things up with. However, she also watches TV. We started with Baby Einsteins when she was only months old. The thing is, like many highly gifted kids, she is extremely intense and demands constant, focused attention. We simply cannot do that constantly. We are too tired. She has learned a ton from screen time, including geography, aquatics (from her beloved documentaries), math and more. I love my jeans, but my daughter does not like wearing jeans, so getting her into denim happens mostly when she lets me choose a theme for pictures. She's more of a sweats and track pants with a t-shirt kind of girl.
The major stereotypes I hear/notice about giftedness is pride and speed. While there are proud people in every group, there are people who aren't in every group, also. Speed is a tricky one. Our daughter is speeding through school, about to complete her second grade level this "school year" but she reads slowly and carefully. I'm not sure what speed means in terms of learning. Is it number of repetitions, overall completion time or something completely different? I've talked about giftedness stereotypes in other posts here, so I'll move on.
Stereotypes of all kinds are uncomfortable and awkward. They can also cause pain in many cases. Homeschooling and giftedness are no exception. One of the hardest parts of the transition into this new normal for me has been the interpersonal relationships. Some people assume that we aren't interested in being around them anymore, and in most cases that is untrue. Some people who are also gifted have shut us out, and it seems like maybe they didn't want to be that much like us. I thought maybe it was me. Like many people in these groups, fitting in and social stuff has never been my strong suit.
A week or two ago, a mother in our homsechool group sat with me and struck up a conversation, having laughed about a comment I had made in a meeting. She decided to talk with me more about it. I wasn't trying to be funny. Laughing at me (including me laughing at myself) is one of the biggest sources for humor in my life, however. Back to the subject. We drifted into talking about families from our previous lives, both feeling that the environments we had left were good ones. She related a story of her girl's only close friend from that school. Like many of these kids, she had made few really valued friends. That school had been the perfect vision of her daughter's educational life through high school, but like us, they had learned that something different was needed. The mother called and was angry with her on several occasions, trying to talk her into changing her mind. In the end, the woman said that if the girls weren't in the same school, she didn't see the point in them continuing their friendship. Now, they see the family in public regularly, and the mother is silent and the girl isn't allowed to speak to them. This poor gifted girl, on top of being lunged into massive changes, did not understand why she could no longer spend time with her one treasured friend. In the end, she was told, "Her mother said we can't." What a terrible situation . . . so sad.
In a strange way, this was reassuring to me. It proves that I am not the only one. My daughter still asks about a few of the true friends she used to have. While only one of them was overt about the changes, it was hard to tell her that we wouldn't be seeing them anymore. In the situations where they weren't overt, I just tell her that I have asked them to make plans, but haven't heard back. One of the most difficult things is that much of our support structure dissolved when the "problem" was no longer labeled anxiety, and relabeled giftedness. I'm not sure what to do with that. It just seems wrong on many levels.
Thank you to those of you who are reading this and praying for us. If you are, you are supporting us in my opinion. Have a blessed Easter!
I gave her information on our situation and experience, and copied a number of others who are involved in homsechooling, so that they'd get more variety and in-depth feedback from people who are more experienced. The theme that came back from others was the stereotype about homeschoolers. I hadn't mentioned it, but we have been subjected to stereotypes. I'm also guilty of believing stereotypes about homeschoolers. One of the women copied me and ended her comments with "For the record, I do not own a denim jumper or bonnet." I laughed out loud at that one, and then remembered another conversation.
Someone I am very loosely connected with was kind enough to talk with me about her experience homeschooling several children for years after having been a public school teacher. They are connected with a group that has a long waiting list, and I believe it is Christian-themed. She said that homeschoolers weren't what she expected, but that she didn't know if she expected a row of denim jumpers or what. I guess that must be part of the stereotype since I heard it from two unconnected sources. That same lovely woman used a phrase that stuck with me, since I admire it and agree with it. After most of her opinions, she added, "for us." I believe in multiple right answers and finding the right one for your family. Not all homeschoolers believe there is one right answer.
At a medical office waiting room last week, I was confronted with the stereotype. A mother was there with eight children, and the oldest must have been about 11. Every girl was in a denim skirt, including the mother. The youngest were twins, and two of the older children were clearly responsible for the babies. The reading-aged kids had Bibles open on their laps, but were sneaking peeks at Nickelodeon on the TV in the waiting area whenever their mother was looking at her crochet-work - something pink and white that appeared to be for one of the twins. It was clear that television isn't part of their world. They were VERY well-behaved and seemed very sweet. Combined, they were much quieter than one boy who went in before them. However, if there had been bonnets, I would have been looking for cameras, certain that it was staged.
My brother and his family do very little screen time with their kids, which works great for them and I support. When we began homeschooling, we bought and iPad to use mostly for the apps for our daughter. Our daughter has multiple devotionals and her own full NIV Bible that she knows how to look things up with. However, she also watches TV. We started with Baby Einsteins when she was only months old. The thing is, like many highly gifted kids, she is extremely intense and demands constant, focused attention. We simply cannot do that constantly. We are too tired. She has learned a ton from screen time, including geography, aquatics (from her beloved documentaries), math and more. I love my jeans, but my daughter does not like wearing jeans, so getting her into denim happens mostly when she lets me choose a theme for pictures. She's more of a sweats and track pants with a t-shirt kind of girl.
The major stereotypes I hear/notice about giftedness is pride and speed. While there are proud people in every group, there are people who aren't in every group, also. Speed is a tricky one. Our daughter is speeding through school, about to complete her second grade level this "school year" but she reads slowly and carefully. I'm not sure what speed means in terms of learning. Is it number of repetitions, overall completion time or something completely different? I've talked about giftedness stereotypes in other posts here, so I'll move on.
Stereotypes of all kinds are uncomfortable and awkward. They can also cause pain in many cases. Homeschooling and giftedness are no exception. One of the hardest parts of the transition into this new normal for me has been the interpersonal relationships. Some people assume that we aren't interested in being around them anymore, and in most cases that is untrue. Some people who are also gifted have shut us out, and it seems like maybe they didn't want to be that much like us. I thought maybe it was me. Like many people in these groups, fitting in and social stuff has never been my strong suit.
A week or two ago, a mother in our homsechool group sat with me and struck up a conversation, having laughed about a comment I had made in a meeting. She decided to talk with me more about it. I wasn't trying to be funny. Laughing at me (including me laughing at myself) is one of the biggest sources for humor in my life, however. Back to the subject. We drifted into talking about families from our previous lives, both feeling that the environments we had left were good ones. She related a story of her girl's only close friend from that school. Like many of these kids, she had made few really valued friends. That school had been the perfect vision of her daughter's educational life through high school, but like us, they had learned that something different was needed. The mother called and was angry with her on several occasions, trying to talk her into changing her mind. In the end, the woman said that if the girls weren't in the same school, she didn't see the point in them continuing their friendship. Now, they see the family in public regularly, and the mother is silent and the girl isn't allowed to speak to them. This poor gifted girl, on top of being lunged into massive changes, did not understand why she could no longer spend time with her one treasured friend. In the end, she was told, "Her mother said we can't." What a terrible situation . . . so sad.
In a strange way, this was reassuring to me. It proves that I am not the only one. My daughter still asks about a few of the true friends she used to have. While only one of them was overt about the changes, it was hard to tell her that we wouldn't be seeing them anymore. In the situations where they weren't overt, I just tell her that I have asked them to make plans, but haven't heard back. One of the most difficult things is that much of our support structure dissolved when the "problem" was no longer labeled anxiety, and relabeled giftedness. I'm not sure what to do with that. It just seems wrong on many levels.
Thank you to those of you who are reading this and praying for us. If you are, you are supporting us in my opinion. Have a blessed Easter!
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Awkward, Embarrassing, Funny, Surreal, Confusing. . . . whatever!
Our new normal does not feel remotely normal to any of us, but it's getting closer all the time. Here are some examples.
We did the state standardized testing for the grade we pulled our daughter out of so that she could have a concrete end-point and be able to tell people what grade she is in. Turns out, she scored 15 percentile (not percent) point below her IQ level on that exam, which made me really wonder what they're testing. The exam was developed by the same company and everything. She did just fine, but it doesn't make sense to me. I have no time to think about that, so moving on. She wanted to celebrate, so we did a small celebration with her grandparents, and had some new pictures taken, calling them her __ grade pictures. It was fun and gave her some of the same fun milestones she was feeling a little lost without.
Recently, my husband took her in to Sunday school, but not her normal class. They asked which table she should sit with, since multiple grades are in the same room. There was a long awkward pause, then he said, "I don't know. Just let her choose," and left . . . rather quickly, I imagine. He simply couldn't remember. Each decision requires not just knowing a number, but deciding whether to keep her with the group she has been with for the school year, or have her with her academic-level peers, etc. It's complicated. The next day, she asked me what she should say next time someone asked her because "Dad didn't know." Oh, that one will be fun at life events forever!! We all laughed and will all continue to, I hope.
Another mother recently told me how she was feeling the need to take a break from the giftedness groups because she was just tired of doing so much talking about it. While I understand the feeling, there is a steep learning curve, and I am not in a position where that is a good option, personally. Besides, last week, we went to cash checks made out to my daughter and it even came up there. Yup! She had two checks to cash. One was from mensa, which was completely unfamiliar to me until December of last year. The other was from a testing organization as compensation for her involvement in norming a new version of an IQ test. The friendly cashiers asked questions that led right into the topic. We are simply honest people, and even vague answers lead there so much more often than you'd think.
We were at a pet store asking questions, and the salesperson kindly offered us some handouts. Turns out, we didn't need one, since our daughter had read an encyclopedia on the topic before we agreed to look into it. I didn't think through the conversation until I got "the look" that salespeople give us. I translate it "where on earth do I go from here?" or "What kind of crazy parents are these people?" or "Are you mocking me?" I shrugged it off and changed the subject.
Add the fact that we homeschool and have a schoolage child out during school hours, and you get all sorts of uncomfortable questions and conersations. In fact, my daughter would prefer not to go to some stores with me during the weekday to avoid the questions, and I hear similar reactions from other parents in our homeschool small group.
A few months into homeschooling now, we are starting to reconnect with some precious people that we have been meglecting and missing. As the questions about what books are being read come up, and people ask what grade kids are in, there are awkward situations with the friends we knew before any of this was on our radar. Now, the kids that have always been the same year in school as our daughter . . . . aren't.
It will continue to be an ongoing adjustment. Every parent has awkward moments with their kids, regardless of their circumstances. I feel like we have a new onslaught of new topics to navigate. At least we're still laughing. Here's hoping it continues indefinitely :)
We did the state standardized testing for the grade we pulled our daughter out of so that she could have a concrete end-point and be able to tell people what grade she is in. Turns out, she scored 15 percentile (not percent) point below her IQ level on that exam, which made me really wonder what they're testing. The exam was developed by the same company and everything. She did just fine, but it doesn't make sense to me. I have no time to think about that, so moving on. She wanted to celebrate, so we did a small celebration with her grandparents, and had some new pictures taken, calling them her __ grade pictures. It was fun and gave her some of the same fun milestones she was feeling a little lost without.
Recently, my husband took her in to Sunday school, but not her normal class. They asked which table she should sit with, since multiple grades are in the same room. There was a long awkward pause, then he said, "I don't know. Just let her choose," and left . . . rather quickly, I imagine. He simply couldn't remember. Each decision requires not just knowing a number, but deciding whether to keep her with the group she has been with for the school year, or have her with her academic-level peers, etc. It's complicated. The next day, she asked me what she should say next time someone asked her because "Dad didn't know." Oh, that one will be fun at life events forever!! We all laughed and will all continue to, I hope.
Another mother recently told me how she was feeling the need to take a break from the giftedness groups because she was just tired of doing so much talking about it. While I understand the feeling, there is a steep learning curve, and I am not in a position where that is a good option, personally. Besides, last week, we went to cash checks made out to my daughter and it even came up there. Yup! She had two checks to cash. One was from mensa, which was completely unfamiliar to me until December of last year. The other was from a testing organization as compensation for her involvement in norming a new version of an IQ test. The friendly cashiers asked questions that led right into the topic. We are simply honest people, and even vague answers lead there so much more often than you'd think.
We were at a pet store asking questions, and the salesperson kindly offered us some handouts. Turns out, we didn't need one, since our daughter had read an encyclopedia on the topic before we agreed to look into it. I didn't think through the conversation until I got "the look" that salespeople give us. I translate it "where on earth do I go from here?" or "What kind of crazy parents are these people?" or "Are you mocking me?" I shrugged it off and changed the subject.
Add the fact that we homeschool and have a schoolage child out during school hours, and you get all sorts of uncomfortable questions and conersations. In fact, my daughter would prefer not to go to some stores with me during the weekday to avoid the questions, and I hear similar reactions from other parents in our homeschool small group.
A few months into homeschooling now, we are starting to reconnect with some precious people that we have been meglecting and missing. As the questions about what books are being read come up, and people ask what grade kids are in, there are awkward situations with the friends we knew before any of this was on our radar. Now, the kids that have always been the same year in school as our daughter . . . . aren't.
It will continue to be an ongoing adjustment. Every parent has awkward moments with their kids, regardless of their circumstances. I feel like we have a new onslaught of new topics to navigate. At least we're still laughing. Here's hoping it continues indefinitely :)
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Good luck keeping up with that!
Today has been an interesting day. Our daughter walked into the kitchen a few minutes ago and said to us, "I learned some cool things about making babies."
Yikes! She is seven, in case I've never mentioned that before. Our eyes got wide at each other and then we looked down. "Really. What did you learn?" one of us asked, but I could not tell you which one of us. I'm still busy freaking out.
"I learned why you need a husband once you have a baby." Uh oh! "The husband has seeds in him that need to swim to the mom, and it has half the direction in it." OK, maybe this is salvageable. Maybe. Are we having the sex talk at age seven?
"Did you read this in your encyclopedia?" I asked. "Yes, and did you know that when the baby reaches four years, it tends to make a lump in the mom's tummy?"
"Four months, honey, but yes." ~me
"And then the mom can tend to feel the baby."
"Your mom felt you in her tummy." ~dad
"Isn't that cool?" Wide eyes accompany this response from her.
"Yeah. It's really cool and really scary at the same time." ~dad
The book in question is an Usborne Children's Encyclopedia that can be internet linked. We have not used the internet portion of it, at this point. I'm thinkin' I need to look at that part of the book to understand exactly how much she learned . . .
It's hard to keep up with a highly gifted kid and we hope to stay ahead of her on the important topics. Or, at least, we hoped to . . . we may have already missed that goal . . .
Yikes! She is seven, in case I've never mentioned that before. Our eyes got wide at each other and then we looked down. "Really. What did you learn?" one of us asked, but I could not tell you which one of us. I'm still busy freaking out.
"I learned why you need a husband once you have a baby." Uh oh! "The husband has seeds in him that need to swim to the mom, and it has half the direction in it." OK, maybe this is salvageable. Maybe. Are we having the sex talk at age seven?
"Did you read this in your encyclopedia?" I asked. "Yes, and did you know that when the baby reaches four years, it tends to make a lump in the mom's tummy?"
"Four months, honey, but yes." ~me
"And then the mom can tend to feel the baby."
"Your mom felt you in her tummy." ~dad
"Isn't that cool?" Wide eyes accompany this response from her.
"Yeah. It's really cool and really scary at the same time." ~dad
The book in question is an Usborne Children's Encyclopedia that can be internet linked. We have not used the internet portion of it, at this point. I'm thinkin' I need to look at that part of the book to understand exactly how much she learned . . .
It's hard to keep up with a highly gifted kid and we hope to stay ahead of her on the important topics. Or, at least, we hoped to . . . we may have already missed that goal . . .
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Remembering and Reflecting
As I sat waiting for my daughter to have her IQ assessment, which took a little over 2 hours with Dr. Deborah Ruf, I felt very insecure. I wondered why on earth I was there. I wondered if I was being ridiculous to even think of having her there, and if I was exposing her to the experience without potential gain. It was difficult to sit still.
5 Levels of Gifted, Dr Ruf's book, was there, so I started reading. As I read through the beginning, I was surprised how many things I could relate to. Most of the things I never realized weren't common. Many of them related to experiences from birth, and very early in the life of a child.
Our daughter was born late, and needed to be checked in the corner before I held her, just to be safe. She was screaming and overwhelmed, as all newborns are. I remember telling my husband to go talk to her. I think I shouted that, actually. He walked closer saying desperately that he didn't know what to say. She stopped crying, craned her neck and looked at him. That is the moment he became a Dad. Apparently, that isn't normal. Of course, children hear their parents' voices and recognize them. That part is normal. The degree of association, connection, eye contact, etc. is most common in highly gifted kids. Who knew? My mother says that my brother and I did the same thing; we had always related it to being born late.
Tonight, I was looking at pictures and ran across a very old one. I had some terrible tooth issues during my daughter's first year of life: failed crown, failed root canal, and oral surgical extraction. It was painful! I remember it being difficult because smiling hurt, and we have a sensitive child. Smiling was important to her. I started crinkling my nose, which hurt much less, and that became her smile for a while, as well. The 1 year photos have the "growly" smile, and I find it adorable. I digress.
A picture I stumbled upon this evening shows her communicating very early. There weren't words involved that I remember, but she told my mother that my mouth hurt. I remember us being surprised, but it took the picture to remind me. I wondered if we were reading into it, or if it was a side effect of pain medication at the time. I analyzed her expressions in other photos tonight, and I don't think so. She was telling my mother that my mouth hurt. Of course, I had to show my husband and remind him this evening. "We should have known then," is what I said. "Yeah," he said as he stared at it and the surrounding photos.
I have one child, so of course I believe that she is the most amazing child on the planet. That seems perfeclty obvious to me. However, I know that I am extremely biased. Could my attempts to be a humble parent have inhibited my ability to understand my daughter? Mother guilt comes so easily, and I'm not feeling terribly emotional about it at the moment, but I still wonder . . . This all happened before she was one year old. She already had a heart of gold, and she was already processing relatively complex thoughts and actually finding a way to communicate them . . . before she could stand on her own.
Can you imagine being born with one or more appendage that didn't function? Of course, you'd find a way to adapt. One of the most difficult fates, in my opinion, would be to have a body that didn't function and a mind that was sharp. Is that what it's like for highly gifted children before they physically and emotionally develope? Do they feel trapped by their inability to apply or communicate their amazing thoughts and ideas?
You may have noticed that I enjoy books. A boy told me today that he is reading the Inheritance Cycle. I was thrilled because it is definitely a way I can relate to him. Eragon is an amazingly complex character and I devoured those books. One character that makes me squirm is Elva, but she's not an antagonist. Eragon unintentionally put her in a difficult position. She was, in her own words, "a freak." She had an urge and ability to sense danger and an inescapable compulsion to help. This was given to her as an infant, and she grew quickly, but not in a natural way. One quote from her haunts me, "so I grew." She was referring to what she needed to do to accomodate her circumstances. In this case, growing unnaturally quickly, so she could talk early, etc.
I feel like this is getting darker than I'm comfortable with. I must need sleep. It is interesting to try and relate to people, though, and imagine their circumstances from that angle. There is a quote heading a gifted group's web site that says something to the effect that "it is difficult to have adult intelligence in a child's body with childlike emotions." When my daughter gets easily frustrated and angry, it makes sense to me. I must find a way to help her with an outlet and to have a healthy adaptation to our world. . . with God's grace, I might find it. I want her to have a childhood, and a happy one, rather than an unusual experience that causes her to say or think "so I grew."
5 Levels of Gifted, Dr Ruf's book, was there, so I started reading. As I read through the beginning, I was surprised how many things I could relate to. Most of the things I never realized weren't common. Many of them related to experiences from birth, and very early in the life of a child.
Our daughter was born late, and needed to be checked in the corner before I held her, just to be safe. She was screaming and overwhelmed, as all newborns are. I remember telling my husband to go talk to her. I think I shouted that, actually. He walked closer saying desperately that he didn't know what to say. She stopped crying, craned her neck and looked at him. That is the moment he became a Dad. Apparently, that isn't normal. Of course, children hear their parents' voices and recognize them. That part is normal. The degree of association, connection, eye contact, etc. is most common in highly gifted kids. Who knew? My mother says that my brother and I did the same thing; we had always related it to being born late.
Tonight, I was looking at pictures and ran across a very old one. I had some terrible tooth issues during my daughter's first year of life: failed crown, failed root canal, and oral surgical extraction. It was painful! I remember it being difficult because smiling hurt, and we have a sensitive child. Smiling was important to her. I started crinkling my nose, which hurt much less, and that became her smile for a while, as well. The 1 year photos have the "growly" smile, and I find it adorable. I digress.
A picture I stumbled upon this evening shows her communicating very early. There weren't words involved that I remember, but she told my mother that my mouth hurt. I remember us being surprised, but it took the picture to remind me. I wondered if we were reading into it, or if it was a side effect of pain medication at the time. I analyzed her expressions in other photos tonight, and I don't think so. She was telling my mother that my mouth hurt. Of course, I had to show my husband and remind him this evening. "We should have known then," is what I said. "Yeah," he said as he stared at it and the surrounding photos.
I have one child, so of course I believe that she is the most amazing child on the planet. That seems perfeclty obvious to me. However, I know that I am extremely biased. Could my attempts to be a humble parent have inhibited my ability to understand my daughter? Mother guilt comes so easily, and I'm not feeling terribly emotional about it at the moment, but I still wonder . . . This all happened before she was one year old. She already had a heart of gold, and she was already processing relatively complex thoughts and actually finding a way to communicate them . . . before she could stand on her own.
Can you imagine being born with one or more appendage that didn't function? Of course, you'd find a way to adapt. One of the most difficult fates, in my opinion, would be to have a body that didn't function and a mind that was sharp. Is that what it's like for highly gifted children before they physically and emotionally develope? Do they feel trapped by their inability to apply or communicate their amazing thoughts and ideas?
You may have noticed that I enjoy books. A boy told me today that he is reading the Inheritance Cycle. I was thrilled because it is definitely a way I can relate to him. Eragon is an amazingly complex character and I devoured those books. One character that makes me squirm is Elva, but she's not an antagonist. Eragon unintentionally put her in a difficult position. She was, in her own words, "a freak." She had an urge and ability to sense danger and an inescapable compulsion to help. This was given to her as an infant, and she grew quickly, but not in a natural way. One quote from her haunts me, "so I grew." She was referring to what she needed to do to accomodate her circumstances. In this case, growing unnaturally quickly, so she could talk early, etc.
I feel like this is getting darker than I'm comfortable with. I must need sleep. It is interesting to try and relate to people, though, and imagine their circumstances from that angle. There is a quote heading a gifted group's web site that says something to the effect that "it is difficult to have adult intelligence in a child's body with childlike emotions." When my daughter gets easily frustrated and angry, it makes sense to me. I must find a way to help her with an outlet and to have a healthy adaptation to our world. . . with God's grace, I might find it. I want her to have a childhood, and a happy one, rather than an unusual experience that causes her to say or think "so I grew."
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Surprising Variety/Kids' comments
One of the wonderful thing about children is what they say. Gifted children are not excluded from this general rule.
I overheard a mother talking about her son and their experience when they first found out about the giftedness assessment. She had been in the car. Her son told her that he realized that "fire needs four things: oxygen, fuel, heat and time." He was five years old. After a breath, he added, "Scooby Doo and Shaggy are so funny. They just do such funny things" I decided it is a very relevant description of life with a gifted child.
We did some standardized testing for the state, as a part of our decision to homeschool. The results showed that her least advanced area was political science and environment. She is quite young, so that means things like knowing who invented the lightbulb and that paper is made from trees. My husband has a political science degree and is fascinated with maps and history. I really should do more about this topic, as it is definitely NOT my strength, although I do realize that paper comes from trees . . .
Stumbling across a used US History homeschool curriculum, I decided God was leading me . . . that, and I have no time to look around - it came from a someone in a group of people like us, so I jumped on it. We are reading a chapter and the questions aloud on our drive to her homeschool group meetings. This way, I learn along with her, as my mind has purged much of the information.
Today, she told me, "Scientists believe that when the voyagers walked in the strait, there wasn't water in it." This was out of the blue. "The Bering Strait?" I asked, remembering it as one of the vocab words from the last chapter almost a week ago. You'll have to find it on a map yourself, or my daughter can help you . . . I cannot. She confirmed and started telling me more about that. The curriculum is sitting on our coffee table, and apparently, she's been reading it on her own. I wonder if she'll start where we left off last time, or if I'll have to read on my own to keep up.
On the other hand, she tells us jokes like "What do you get when you cross a mouse riding in a car?" "A mousemobile!" Hysterical laughter from her. Amazing when you think of those two scenarios coming out the mouth of a single child. It is amusing and surprising on a regular basis.
I overheard a mother talking about her son and their experience when they first found out about the giftedness assessment. She had been in the car. Her son told her that he realized that "fire needs four things: oxygen, fuel, heat and time." He was five years old. After a breath, he added, "Scooby Doo and Shaggy are so funny. They just do such funny things" I decided it is a very relevant description of life with a gifted child.
We did some standardized testing for the state, as a part of our decision to homeschool. The results showed that her least advanced area was political science and environment. She is quite young, so that means things like knowing who invented the lightbulb and that paper is made from trees. My husband has a political science degree and is fascinated with maps and history. I really should do more about this topic, as it is definitely NOT my strength, although I do realize that paper comes from trees . . .
Stumbling across a used US History homeschool curriculum, I decided God was leading me . . . that, and I have no time to look around - it came from a someone in a group of people like us, so I jumped on it. We are reading a chapter and the questions aloud on our drive to her homeschool group meetings. This way, I learn along with her, as my mind has purged much of the information.
Today, she told me, "Scientists believe that when the voyagers walked in the strait, there wasn't water in it." This was out of the blue. "The Bering Strait?" I asked, remembering it as one of the vocab words from the last chapter almost a week ago. You'll have to find it on a map yourself, or my daughter can help you . . . I cannot. She confirmed and started telling me more about that. The curriculum is sitting on our coffee table, and apparently, she's been reading it on her own. I wonder if she'll start where we left off last time, or if I'll have to read on my own to keep up.
On the other hand, she tells us jokes like "What do you get when you cross a mouse riding in a car?" "A mousemobile!" Hysterical laughter from her. Amazing when you think of those two scenarios coming out the mouth of a single child. It is amusing and surprising on a regular basis.
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