There’s a space between what I see as normal, opposed to what the world sees.
A spectrum of ability.
As I watch my child play, he is a genius.
He can read, spell, do math. He signs his name to his pictures, and memorizes songs on the radio. He has an amazing imagination in a world ruled by technology.
But according to charts and graphs, he is behind.
I fear the day I’ll have to let him go. When he’ll head to school where I can’t explain to everyone his story. Where I can’t protect him from being compared, tested, found wanting.
Sometimes I drop him off at playgroup or the church nursery and he plays well, and other times they have to come get me- “he’s freaking out”, they say. I know they just don’t understand what he’s trying to tell them and he’s frustrated.
I’ve been told he’s bossy, or “he’s REALLY opinionated”.
I tend to blame myself.
I must be a bad parent.
I must be doing something wrong.
He must need someone better.
But, then he tells me I’m his best friend, and I realize I’m doing my best- which is good enough.
I am what HE needs.
He is what I need.
He’s not abnormal, he’s exceptional.
He was born with his cord wrapped twice around his neck. Began having seizures on his second day in this world. With a birth defect that had his brain being compacted for the first 4 months of his life.
When I look at all of the obstacles he’s overcome- I’m amazed!
I just have to change MY way of thinking. Instead of looking at how far he has to go, I need to take the time to see how far he’s come.
I have to STOP the comparison. Stop trying to make him “normal”.
What’s normal anyway?
