Learning Disabled...not a bit!

One in six children have a learning disorder.  Did you know that; do you even know what that means in the grand plethora of schemes?  It means 16% of school age children have a learning disability. Still not feeling the magnitude of the numerals?  In John's school alone of the 800 students, 128 have a learning disorder.  So in the average class size of say 25, roughly 4 students will have a learning disability.

Of course it's easy to throw out numbers, stats and raw information.  It removes the personal facet of  the reality of these children.  Learning disability, LD!  Some have suggested it's merely the PC label for thick or dumb, or horror of horrors, retard (a personal 'favorite').  I have known supposed "retarded" autistic children who wear GPS tracker anklets to know where every pair of scissors in theirs and three neighboring houses are.  John can tell you anything you would ever need to know about Dinosaurs and Pokemon.  Jacob used the word delusional correctly in a sentence this evening...he's 11. Focused and tunnel vision, perhaps, retarded...hardly?

We all carry aspects of a learning disability within us.  They're called strengths and weaknesses; remember prospective employers ask about both all the time.  I think about the incredibly gifted people in my life who struggle with something as basic as contractions and homonyms because in our day LD was "thick," "stupid," "retarded," or "slow." My LD kids work a bit harder than the other 84% do, but I suspect there are parts of my 1 in 6 babies that 84% relish.  After all, who else can know the solar system in such intimate detail as John....when he was 4?  Next time you want to attack someone because their there, their, they're isn't perfect, or where, were, we're is off you'll remember this and stop yourself.  1 in 6 is not thick, we just think differently.  So did Newton.

Being a soft kid!

There is a curse amongst most (if not all) stay at home parents.  Finding companionship, human interaction, adult interjection, anyone BUT children.  As much as we adore them our children,  I have been an at home parent for over 6 years now, which by the way was not on my to do list.  Having said that, neither was my adventure into autism, adhd and sensory processing disorder. (What you missed out???)

The latter three has imprinted on me a need to give everyone about 15 chances before writing them off.  That's about 14 chances more than most give and there's both good and bad to both judgements.  One is reactionary, albeit instinctive.  It reads a situation, renders a decision, executes a judgement and wipes off hands.  The other is the sad arsed bleeding heart reactionary (that on occasion would be me).  I have seen so much diversity, reasons why people act the way they do I often (no, always) look for the psychological reason.  I am a social psychologist at heart and I tend to see why people act the way they do and communicate the way they choose.  As such, (unless they promote beheading) I give them far more time and chances than 90% of my fellow human brethren.  Don't get me wrong, I am not blind, but on occasion I look too deep.  Sometimes no matter how deep I look, the reality is, the person I was giving that 15th chance to is still a hopeless divvie. 

Some of us are not wired in to knowing when others are being emotional users, some of us need help.  Tonight I needed help.  I learned.  Learning can be tough, but it never disappoints.

Universal Change

I spent a good part of today on the phone or meeting in person with facilitators and spec ed teachers.  Thank ye Gawds for brilliant professionals who not only are good at their jobs but have a vocation to work with children.   The administrative aspect of school transfers is all but complete and all three wains know at least cognitively we will be moving in a few weeks.  What has taken me aback has been how I was anticipating this volcanic reaction from them and apart from a quick lava spike, they are suddenly full in....to the point I have to stop John and Hannah from trying to pack up their wee worlds before the weekend.

I am in constant awe of my children and their ability to morph and grow, but even more so after these last few days.  Of course there is so much more to come, the actual move, first days of a new school, first day on a new bus, first day in a new lunch room.  It makes me consider though how many firsts we all encounter, sometimes on a daily basis.  Firsts are scary of course; it's a sojourn off the precipice, a footprint into the unknown.  I will freely admit, I have moments of abject terror at the thought of this move, from suburban comfort of ownership into more condensed renterville.   Then I watch the innocence of my 8 year old dash about his room piling stuffed animals into an old cardboard box, giddy with the anticipation; I catch myself, slump to my knees beside him and giggle as we both squish in yet another  Build a Bear Puppy.

Changes are scary for sure, but they are also just that, change! I know for me this is the first step of many changes, some bigger than others, but all ok with the universe.  Afterall, the Universe has never let me down before, time to take that deep breath and let it do it's thing again.

Transitions galore

Transitions are rough on the most savvy and contained individual; add in being little and having limited social understanding and social cues.  Actually that sounds far worse than it really is, but both my lads will need a bit of extra TLC in the coming weeks.  We are moving...not far, about 20 minutes closer to Atlanta.  There is a multitude of reasons to explain why, if you want the nitty gritty feel free to message me.

Nothing has been said nor explained to the children for now.  I was waiting to get a new place sorted and the T's crossed and I's dotted. I wish I could.  They're not stupid and while I wait for my partner to catch up with the reality of the emotional aspect of this situation we have three wee kids who need answers.  I spent much of today trying to put myself in their heads, understand what this move (the beginning of a few) means.  I myself have moved over a dozen times the last 3 decades, but my wains have been happily solidified the last five. They thrive on structure and consistency and we are about to send them down the pin ball table like frigid marbles.

The next few weeks/months will be awful, liberating, irritating and real all at once.   I will be ok; I always am.  I hate not being able to protect and anticipate my kids needs. Parenting...one tough arse job!