Every person with a learning disability has challenges - things that don't come as easily for them as the average person. 2e kids, or twice exceptional people, have the added tension of being highly gifted, which can often mean assumptions about what test score you should get, how quickly you should learn, how you think of yourself compared to others, etc . . . This story adds yet another piece to the mix. What a beautifully written example!
http://christinefonseca.wordpress.com/2013/05/20/resolute/
Monday, May 20, 2013
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
When to filter - gambling
I am not a gambler, but I used to hit the casinos when I was younger. I am certain that overall, it will lead to losses consistently, since the casinos remain in business.
I do have to gamble regularly, however. I have to decide when and how much to filter my answers to people. I've heard many people use the term filter related to someone lacking tact or other similar things related to conversation. Well, I need that, but it goes a step further among our "special population" which is my daughter's favorite term for people like us.
Last weekend, I was at an event by myself, kidless, and among people who mostly don't know me. I was looking forward to a normal day, meaning without our special circumstances being part of it. No such luck.
I was scrapbooking, so inevitably, my daughter did come up in conversation. Some of the things in the pictures is entirely typical of her age and other parts are not. I enjoy having pictures of her being her own unique self, as most parents do. In the movie Good Will Hunting, Robin Williams' character says he loves that he knows his wife farts in her sleep because it's part of what makes her his wife - that he knows.
I remember a children's photographer from years ago talking about a photo shoot of a very young child who had been born with a partially formed hand. She remembered the mother being in tears with joy because the photographer had actually put the hand in the photographs, instead of avoiding it. At the time, I had no reason to suspect I would be the mother of an atypical child, but I still remember feeling sad for the mother dealing with avoidance from people, and I was proud of the photographer for being accepting and comfortable with the situation. Now, I remember that mother often, as I face the differences in my own child.
When someone asks a question like, "What grade is your daughter in" at times where I know it will reveal the abnormality of our situation, I have to take a gamble. Last weekend, I told them it was hard to know how much to say, and then asked if they really wanted to know. They did. Luckily, two women celebrated and marveled with me as different things came up with other pictures. There was conspicuous silence from others, but on this occasion, noone was outwardly ugly. I consider that a gamble that paid off. Maybe it's sad when mostly silence is considered payout, but . . . I will celebrate the positivity from a few and silence from the many.
I met another family this week with a mother who held her breath as a kindergarten-aged son brought a stack of chapter books into the room. I told the boy that I like that series and why in my best guess of an appropriate manner (age? intellect? I don't know, so I guessed), and the mom looked stunned. We then had a lovely conversation about how wonderful it is not to have to control the flinching instinct or stop our children from talking prematurely because of others' discomfort in those situations. I hope to see more of that family.
Wishing you a week of being accepting and of accepting others.
I do have to gamble regularly, however. I have to decide when and how much to filter my answers to people. I've heard many people use the term filter related to someone lacking tact or other similar things related to conversation. Well, I need that, but it goes a step further among our "special population" which is my daughter's favorite term for people like us.
Last weekend, I was at an event by myself, kidless, and among people who mostly don't know me. I was looking forward to a normal day, meaning without our special circumstances being part of it. No such luck.
I was scrapbooking, so inevitably, my daughter did come up in conversation. Some of the things in the pictures is entirely typical of her age and other parts are not. I enjoy having pictures of her being her own unique self, as most parents do. In the movie Good Will Hunting, Robin Williams' character says he loves that he knows his wife farts in her sleep because it's part of what makes her his wife - that he knows.
I remember a children's photographer from years ago talking about a photo shoot of a very young child who had been born with a partially formed hand. She remembered the mother being in tears with joy because the photographer had actually put the hand in the photographs, instead of avoiding it. At the time, I had no reason to suspect I would be the mother of an atypical child, but I still remember feeling sad for the mother dealing with avoidance from people, and I was proud of the photographer for being accepting and comfortable with the situation. Now, I remember that mother often, as I face the differences in my own child.
When someone asks a question like, "What grade is your daughter in" at times where I know it will reveal the abnormality of our situation, I have to take a gamble. Last weekend, I told them it was hard to know how much to say, and then asked if they really wanted to know. They did. Luckily, two women celebrated and marveled with me as different things came up with other pictures. There was conspicuous silence from others, but on this occasion, noone was outwardly ugly. I consider that a gamble that paid off. Maybe it's sad when mostly silence is considered payout, but . . . I will celebrate the positivity from a few and silence from the many.
I met another family this week with a mother who held her breath as a kindergarten-aged son brought a stack of chapter books into the room. I told the boy that I like that series and why in my best guess of an appropriate manner (age? intellect? I don't know, so I guessed), and the mom looked stunned. We then had a lovely conversation about how wonderful it is not to have to control the flinching instinct or stop our children from talking prematurely because of others' discomfort in those situations. I hope to see more of that family.
Wishing you a week of being accepting and of accepting others.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Baiting, injustice and shame - dealing with stereotypes
Tonight, my family attended an event we are invited to annually. Most of the people there, we see maybe once a year. This year, there was much talk of college, due to the age and lifestage of many of the people present, as parents or students in the lifestage.
When we returned home, my husband said he didn't like how one woman was talking to me and asking questions. I was uncomfortable with it, as well, and our daughter was listening without commenting, so she was clearly uncomfortable as well. It started with that seemingly simple question of what grade our daughter is in. All three of us considered, the woman thought that quite odd, and we told her that it depends upon the subject. In the end, I told her my best guess. The woman ddin't comment, or perhaps didn't notice the disconnect. M is the not the typical age for that grade. However, the woman went on to ask a series of questions that put me in an uncomfortable place, and it seemed that she does not approve of homeschooling. I tried to be polite and truthful until someone else took up another subject, shifting the woman's focus.
Before long, she began to digress into lots of name-dropping of prestigious schools, how they are related to her children and their friends, etc. She seemed not to notice that everyone got very quiet, and continued, looking quite pleased with herself. She seemed to look down on my family because traditional school will not work for our daughter until college, if she chooses to attend (because we will not force her to attend college - some post-graduate training, but not necessarily college). Her assumption, like many, is that our daughter is incapable of keeping up or learning in a sense that makes it worth spending the money. In fact, she expressed outrage to me that her own daughter who is a recent graduate and accountant wants to be a stay-at-home mother. I confronted her on that, telling her what I used to do with my business degree, and how I use it every day at home. Perhaps that's why she went on to provoke me. I should have kept my mouth shut, perhaps. . . I'm not so good at that.
By the time she got to the height of her arrogant rant, I wanted to look her in the eye and say, "You think that's something? My daughter will probably be ready for college years younger than any of your children no matter what score they got on the ACT!" She did, in fact, go into great detail about ACT scores . . . I didn't say any of that out loud, and I feel ashamed that I even thought it.
After considering it out of that woman's presence, I think I'm angry at the injustice that families with highly gifted children are too often assumed to be as arrogant as this woman. Some of them are, of course - you get bad eggs in every group. However, the extreme examples of giftedness I know go through a lot of stress about trying to find appropriate ways to answer simple questions like, "What grade is your child (or are you) in?" They do not feel that they are better than anyone else. Many, like me, sincerely wish that traditional school settings worked for their family. That's why members of our coop are familiar with so many schools - we keep trying and hoping.
I was so disappointed in my own response to this person. I am angry when confronted by the same ugliness I am assumed to possess, and the fact that those words went through my mind may mean that I do possess it. However, this woman spoke it. I am extremely defensive and protective of my child, as most mothers are. I hope that my internal dialogue was a result of that and my outrage at facing a stereotype that I don't believe fits me, rather than an indication that I am the same way. None of my nieces or nephews have gone to a special school for gifted kids and none of them were or are homeschooled. I believe that giftedness is hereditary biologically. I believe that all of my nieces and nephews are highly intelligent.
I am disgusted with myself tonight, and with that woman for triggering the disgusting reaction. I think my reaction was a growing urge to shut her up, rather than a logical or sincere response to her. I will have to check myself, and am grateful that my daughter doesn't feel superior because of her atypical neurology. Hoping you all had a better weekend than I did . . .
When we returned home, my husband said he didn't like how one woman was talking to me and asking questions. I was uncomfortable with it, as well, and our daughter was listening without commenting, so she was clearly uncomfortable as well. It started with that seemingly simple question of what grade our daughter is in. All three of us considered, the woman thought that quite odd, and we told her that it depends upon the subject. In the end, I told her my best guess. The woman ddin't comment, or perhaps didn't notice the disconnect. M is the not the typical age for that grade. However, the woman went on to ask a series of questions that put me in an uncomfortable place, and it seemed that she does not approve of homeschooling. I tried to be polite and truthful until someone else took up another subject, shifting the woman's focus.
Before long, she began to digress into lots of name-dropping of prestigious schools, how they are related to her children and their friends, etc. She seemed not to notice that everyone got very quiet, and continued, looking quite pleased with herself. She seemed to look down on my family because traditional school will not work for our daughter until college, if she chooses to attend (because we will not force her to attend college - some post-graduate training, but not necessarily college). Her assumption, like many, is that our daughter is incapable of keeping up or learning in a sense that makes it worth spending the money. In fact, she expressed outrage to me that her own daughter who is a recent graduate and accountant wants to be a stay-at-home mother. I confronted her on that, telling her what I used to do with my business degree, and how I use it every day at home. Perhaps that's why she went on to provoke me. I should have kept my mouth shut, perhaps. . . I'm not so good at that.
By the time she got to the height of her arrogant rant, I wanted to look her in the eye and say, "You think that's something? My daughter will probably be ready for college years younger than any of your children no matter what score they got on the ACT!" She did, in fact, go into great detail about ACT scores . . . I didn't say any of that out loud, and I feel ashamed that I even thought it.
After considering it out of that woman's presence, I think I'm angry at the injustice that families with highly gifted children are too often assumed to be as arrogant as this woman. Some of them are, of course - you get bad eggs in every group. However, the extreme examples of giftedness I know go through a lot of stress about trying to find appropriate ways to answer simple questions like, "What grade is your child (or are you) in?" They do not feel that they are better than anyone else. Many, like me, sincerely wish that traditional school settings worked for their family. That's why members of our coop are familiar with so many schools - we keep trying and hoping.
I was so disappointed in my own response to this person. I am angry when confronted by the same ugliness I am assumed to possess, and the fact that those words went through my mind may mean that I do possess it. However, this woman spoke it. I am extremely defensive and protective of my child, as most mothers are. I hope that my internal dialogue was a result of that and my outrage at facing a stereotype that I don't believe fits me, rather than an indication that I am the same way. None of my nieces or nephews have gone to a special school for gifted kids and none of them were or are homeschooled. I believe that giftedness is hereditary biologically. I believe that all of my nieces and nephews are highly intelligent.
I am disgusted with myself tonight, and with that woman for triggering the disgusting reaction. I think my reaction was a growing urge to shut her up, rather than a logical or sincere response to her. I will have to check myself, and am grateful that my daughter doesn't feel superior because of her atypical neurology. Hoping you all had a better weekend than I did . . .
Friday, April 26, 2013
Goodbyes and Fitting in without Giving In
Those two things have been our recent themes.
Recently, I was in a conversation with a mother and daughter we talk to weekly. We were discussing travel and Disneyland. I commented that M didn't want to go there last time we were in the area, but that we went to Discovery Cove and swam with fish and stingrays, etc. The other child is very young, and couldn't believe that Disney wasn't the choice. I felt it was an appropriate comment, seeing as how we were at swimming lessons . . . swimming with fish. Safe, right? Guess not. The other girl, got really close to my daughter's face and expressed shock, which made my daughter quite uncomfortable. As we were walking out, I was informed of new social protocols by my daughter, who, honestly, still needs a lot of practice with social interactions . . . Apparently, she doesn't want people to hear about her decision not to visit Disney, "especially with little kids, Mom."
From the first indication, I have grieved that giftedness makes it statistically unlikely to fit in very often. My husband had a much more satisfying, full social life than I did, and I really wanted that for our daughter growing up. That hasn't been in God's plan for much of her life. There was a period with countless kids around as often as we would allow it, but it was brief.
We are moving. Part of what we intend to do with the move is intentionally nurture social opportunities for our daughter. Not just any social interaction, but really feeling accepted and included . . . belonging. As we do that, we are saying a lot of goodbyes, which is not fun.
One of the goodbyes I had apart from the rest of my family reminds me of the giftedness element, yet again. A is an amazingly gifted girl in many areas. I will miss her a lot. In preparation for that, I have been in a lot of conversations with her mother and a few other people, and was honored to be included in being intentional about her mentors. You see, she reminds me of myself, only cooler & more athletic. I felt desperate to help her find an environment where she can grow as much as she wants to in an area of her giftedness without being pressured to perform at her highest level if she chooses to focus on other things.
I think that is one of the dangers of gifted circles. We talk about "doing our best" and that is huge pressure, as well as ridiculous. It's a concept that was presented to me related to perfectionism. This goal encourages perfectionism, which is an ironic character flaw . . . What adult do you know who is expected to do their very best in every area of their lives? I am thankful to have given up being good at a number of things that simply don't interest me. Instead, I focus on the things that intrigue me most. We still do the things we need to do, but trying to excel in every way you can . . . that sounds exhausting.
I was afraid for A. I was afraid that she would be pressured to put more emphasis in one area of her life than she wanted to, simply because she has the capacity for it. Does that shock you? It's a big deal to me. What area(s) of your life or your child's do you have capacity beyond what you choose to invest? Is there an area that excites you, even if you aren't as gifted in it? K told me this week that she was enjoying spinning, but wasn't very good at it. I know nothing of spinning, but told her all that mattered to me was that she was enjoying it. She measures her progress in balls of yarn, and "how much of a sheep" which made me smile. I'm so glad she's doing that. Knitting is like that for me. I don't consider myself to be very good at it, but I enjoy it, and I am learning something new. I'd love to hear about yours . . .
Recently, I was in a conversation with a mother and daughter we talk to weekly. We were discussing travel and Disneyland. I commented that M didn't want to go there last time we were in the area, but that we went to Discovery Cove and swam with fish and stingrays, etc. The other child is very young, and couldn't believe that Disney wasn't the choice. I felt it was an appropriate comment, seeing as how we were at swimming lessons . . . swimming with fish. Safe, right? Guess not. The other girl, got really close to my daughter's face and expressed shock, which made my daughter quite uncomfortable. As we were walking out, I was informed of new social protocols by my daughter, who, honestly, still needs a lot of practice with social interactions . . . Apparently, she doesn't want people to hear about her decision not to visit Disney, "especially with little kids, Mom."
From the first indication, I have grieved that giftedness makes it statistically unlikely to fit in very often. My husband had a much more satisfying, full social life than I did, and I really wanted that for our daughter growing up. That hasn't been in God's plan for much of her life. There was a period with countless kids around as often as we would allow it, but it was brief.
We are moving. Part of what we intend to do with the move is intentionally nurture social opportunities for our daughter. Not just any social interaction, but really feeling accepted and included . . . belonging. As we do that, we are saying a lot of goodbyes, which is not fun.
One of the goodbyes I had apart from the rest of my family reminds me of the giftedness element, yet again. A is an amazingly gifted girl in many areas. I will miss her a lot. In preparation for that, I have been in a lot of conversations with her mother and a few other people, and was honored to be included in being intentional about her mentors. You see, she reminds me of myself, only cooler & more athletic. I felt desperate to help her find an environment where she can grow as much as she wants to in an area of her giftedness without being pressured to perform at her highest level if she chooses to focus on other things.
I think that is one of the dangers of gifted circles. We talk about "doing our best" and that is huge pressure, as well as ridiculous. It's a concept that was presented to me related to perfectionism. This goal encourages perfectionism, which is an ironic character flaw . . . What adult do you know who is expected to do their very best in every area of their lives? I am thankful to have given up being good at a number of things that simply don't interest me. Instead, I focus on the things that intrigue me most. We still do the things we need to do, but trying to excel in every way you can . . . that sounds exhausting.
I was afraid for A. I was afraid that she would be pressured to put more emphasis in one area of her life than she wanted to, simply because she has the capacity for it. Does that shock you? It's a big deal to me. What area(s) of your life or your child's do you have capacity beyond what you choose to invest? Is there an area that excites you, even if you aren't as gifted in it? K told me this week that she was enjoying spinning, but wasn't very good at it. I know nothing of spinning, but told her all that mattered to me was that she was enjoying it. She measures her progress in balls of yarn, and "how much of a sheep" which made me smile. I'm so glad she's doing that. Knitting is like that for me. I don't consider myself to be very good at it, but I enjoy it, and I am learning something new. I'd love to hear about yours . . .
Monday, April 15, 2013
Intensity and Hypersensitivity
I know many who deal with hypersensitivities in their children, such as an unwillingness to wear socks other than about 2 threadbare pairs.
In our home, intensity is the thing. They can go together often, and I definitely have a hypersensitivity to sound, while my daughter has a need to be constantly moving - hyper motor sensitivity. There are so many labels. I also know many adults and children with ADD or ADHD, among other labels. Some are also labeled highly gifted (which makes them twice exceptional or 2e) and others are not.
Check out this blog post from the perspective of more than one of those situations. It's always good to have suggestions from someone experienced with gifted learners.
http://jadeannrivera.com/2013/03/10/living-with-not-indulging-intensity/
In our home, intensity is the thing. They can go together often, and I definitely have a hypersensitivity to sound, while my daughter has a need to be constantly moving - hyper motor sensitivity. There are so many labels. I also know many adults and children with ADD or ADHD, among other labels. Some are also labeled highly gifted (which makes them twice exceptional or 2e) and others are not.
Check out this blog post from the perspective of more than one of those situations. It's always good to have suggestions from someone experienced with gifted learners.
http://jadeannrivera.com/2013/03/10/living-with-not-indulging-intensity/
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Breakthrough - "Different" does not equal "Needs to be fixed"
I love this blog post:
http://mommytg.blogspot.com/2013/04/sharing-my-recent-breakthrough-as-parent.html
As parents of children who are not neurotypical, we are given a lot of unsolicited advice by well-meaning, but uninformed people. "Just" usually begins the statements from those who just don't really understand or just don't believe that these children really are different. Ours are not better than other children. They do not need to be fixed. They are simply different.
Like the author of the linked blog post, I have been blessed to find several different sources of support from those with some level of understanding and appreciation of children who are not neurotypical, and just as wonderfully supportive of their families. I hope all of you are blessed with a support network with some degree of acceptance if not understanding. Even more, I hope that you have found unconditional support in your most confusing and important journeys through this life.
http://mommytg.blogspot.com/2013/04/sharing-my-recent-breakthrough-as-parent.html
As parents of children who are not neurotypical, we are given a lot of unsolicited advice by well-meaning, but uninformed people. "Just" usually begins the statements from those who just don't really understand or just don't believe that these children really are different. Ours are not better than other children. They do not need to be fixed. They are simply different.
Like the author of the linked blog post, I have been blessed to find several different sources of support from those with some level of understanding and appreciation of children who are not neurotypical, and just as wonderfully supportive of their families. I hope all of you are blessed with a support network with some degree of acceptance if not understanding. Even more, I hope that you have found unconditional support in your most confusing and important journeys through this life.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
What is home?
I hear about highly gifted children asking questions like "what is time?" and similar things we take for granted, but are difficult to explain to a very young person. Recently, we have been exploring the concept of home.
M didn't ask what it meant outright, but we have been exploring it. I have been exploring with her, and so has my husband. Closely linked is the concept of family, which is something we are revisiting as adults, and our daughter is exploring in depth for the first time. There are legal definitions of family and home, but I'm referring to the emotional and conceptual meanings. Some old lyrics that google didn't help me pin down today go something like this: "I never thought home would end up a place I don't belong." [If you can help me remember where that surfacing phrase originated before entering my mind through my ears, I'd be grateful.]
My baby girl is growing up. That's a cliche, I know, but there seem to be lurches in the process, and I feel we are in or just past one of those. She was telling me about some conversations happening around her that made her uncomfortable. The adults involved should not have been having those conversations. Then again, I think they should know the girl in question better, as well. I asked her about it and got vague but honest answers. The gist is that these people were talking about us in a way that wasn't positive or pleasant, assuming our daughter was distracted by something. I was disappointed, but not surprised.
I asked her what "us" meant, wanting to understand better, and it warmed my heart to learn that there is a strong association between the word "us" and our family of 3. I like that. I hope that is an ongoing trend. Like most parents, we try to insulate our daughter from some of the less attractive qualities and interactions with extended family. This is one area where her being highly gifted makes parenting both easier and more difficult at the same time.
A woman I love as much as anyone on earth told me once that she felt guilty about how her relational issues with a family member seemed apparent to her daughter. I understand that emotion better now than when she confided in me. However, today, my daughter told me some things she's been noticing that make her sad. They are the same things my husband and I have been noticing. We both dealt with some guilt, like the woman mentioned previously.
M needs to be able to accept the truth about who her family members really are in order to effectively love them and interact with them. The sad thing is that those same people seem not to know and understand her much or me at all . . . my husband? I'm not sure how well they understand him, but the trend isn't great in any scenario. M is too young to be expected to bear an emotional burden that is not her own. However, her relationship, or lack of one, is her own burden.
When people kindly interact with her in a way that seems appropriate to her size and/or age, she has learned to say appropriate things, but her tone is . . . a work in progress. Once she responds to something that interests her . . . . let's just say I can tell you how big a bite many people can take. What follows is what tells me more about the person and their ability to appreciate and enjoy my daughter's company. I don't judge people for an initial assumption. After all, you have to start somewhere. The follow-up determines a lot more about how I see those people.
As we have been exploring this, we have learned that M's "us" is a great definition of family. It simultaneously implies connection, unity, togetherness and more. Home is a concept that is a bit more hazy to me. We use the word to describe wherever we are staying, even when on vacation. However, there are places that are far more comfortable than others. Some of those places would not be referred to as our home. And yet . . . when we feel exceptionally comfortable, we describe it as "home" even when it is not a house or dwelling place. Maybe "us" is home.
We are excited as we start a new chapter and try some new things in an effort to get more feelings of home and family. Giftedness is now a large part of how we operate, many of the decisions we make, and a surprising chunk of our daily life. I talked with a manager at an establishment we have frequented for years, who told me that giftedness is a beautiful girl with shining eyes as he watched her read and talk with his other customers. He also defined quirkiness as "having fun with friends," which I like. Don't you just adore your friends' quirks?! Another place where we are recognized, we received a card, a demand to make sure we stayed in touch, and a few freebies related to something we're interested in with a shining smile. I could mention so many more.
However, it is sad to me how many of the people we are accepted by and sought after are not the ones you would assume, especially if you listen to Hallmark. I never thought home or family would be a place I don't belong. Several counselors have encouraged me to see the large family I have, and how wonderful the chosen family is. I love my family, but the people I want around are my "real"/"chosen" family. It warms my heart when I see the arms of those reaching back at me. I am trying to share some of the emotional tools I have learned in counseling with my amazing daughter. I have a feeling she'll be just fine.
I think "us" is in for some great times ahead. Blessings to you, your "home" and your "family" today - whatever that is to you.
M didn't ask what it meant outright, but we have been exploring it. I have been exploring with her, and so has my husband. Closely linked is the concept of family, which is something we are revisiting as adults, and our daughter is exploring in depth for the first time. There are legal definitions of family and home, but I'm referring to the emotional and conceptual meanings. Some old lyrics that google didn't help me pin down today go something like this: "I never thought home would end up a place I don't belong." [If you can help me remember where that surfacing phrase originated before entering my mind through my ears, I'd be grateful.]
My baby girl is growing up. That's a cliche, I know, but there seem to be lurches in the process, and I feel we are in or just past one of those. She was telling me about some conversations happening around her that made her uncomfortable. The adults involved should not have been having those conversations. Then again, I think they should know the girl in question better, as well. I asked her about it and got vague but honest answers. The gist is that these people were talking about us in a way that wasn't positive or pleasant, assuming our daughter was distracted by something. I was disappointed, but not surprised.
I asked her what "us" meant, wanting to understand better, and it warmed my heart to learn that there is a strong association between the word "us" and our family of 3. I like that. I hope that is an ongoing trend. Like most parents, we try to insulate our daughter from some of the less attractive qualities and interactions with extended family. This is one area where her being highly gifted makes parenting both easier and more difficult at the same time.
A woman I love as much as anyone on earth told me once that she felt guilty about how her relational issues with a family member seemed apparent to her daughter. I understand that emotion better now than when she confided in me. However, today, my daughter told me some things she's been noticing that make her sad. They are the same things my husband and I have been noticing. We both dealt with some guilt, like the woman mentioned previously.
M needs to be able to accept the truth about who her family members really are in order to effectively love them and interact with them. The sad thing is that those same people seem not to know and understand her much or me at all . . . my husband? I'm not sure how well they understand him, but the trend isn't great in any scenario. M is too young to be expected to bear an emotional burden that is not her own. However, her relationship, or lack of one, is her own burden.
When people kindly interact with her in a way that seems appropriate to her size and/or age, she has learned to say appropriate things, but her tone is . . . a work in progress. Once she responds to something that interests her . . . . let's just say I can tell you how big a bite many people can take. What follows is what tells me more about the person and their ability to appreciate and enjoy my daughter's company. I don't judge people for an initial assumption. After all, you have to start somewhere. The follow-up determines a lot more about how I see those people.
As we have been exploring this, we have learned that M's "us" is a great definition of family. It simultaneously implies connection, unity, togetherness and more. Home is a concept that is a bit more hazy to me. We use the word to describe wherever we are staying, even when on vacation. However, there are places that are far more comfortable than others. Some of those places would not be referred to as our home. And yet . . . when we feel exceptionally comfortable, we describe it as "home" even when it is not a house or dwelling place. Maybe "us" is home.
We are excited as we start a new chapter and try some new things in an effort to get more feelings of home and family. Giftedness is now a large part of how we operate, many of the decisions we make, and a surprising chunk of our daily life. I talked with a manager at an establishment we have frequented for years, who told me that giftedness is a beautiful girl with shining eyes as he watched her read and talk with his other customers. He also defined quirkiness as "having fun with friends," which I like. Don't you just adore your friends' quirks?! Another place where we are recognized, we received a card, a demand to make sure we stayed in touch, and a few freebies related to something we're interested in with a shining smile. I could mention so many more.
However, it is sad to me how many of the people we are accepted by and sought after are not the ones you would assume, especially if you listen to Hallmark. I never thought home or family would be a place I don't belong. Several counselors have encouraged me to see the large family I have, and how wonderful the chosen family is. I love my family, but the people I want around are my "real"/"chosen" family. It warms my heart when I see the arms of those reaching back at me. I am trying to share some of the emotional tools I have learned in counseling with my amazing daughter. I have a feeling she'll be just fine.
I think "us" is in for some great times ahead. Blessings to you, your "home" and your "family" today - whatever that is to you.
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