Something I am learning more and more as time passes is that Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, while not the genuine hitchhiking guide my mother assumed it to be all those years ago, it is very right about its cover. "In many of the more relaxed civilizations on the Outer Eastern Rim of the Galaxy, the Hitchhiker's Guide has already supplanted the great Encyclopaedia Galactica as the standard repository of all knowledge and wisdom, for though it has many omissions and contains much that is apocryphal, or at least wildly inaccurate, it scores over the older, more pedestrian work in two important respects. First, it is slightly cheaper; and secondly it has the words DON'T PANIC inscribed in large friendly letters on its cover." -Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, Douglas Adams, 1979
Don't Panic. This is often where my life is anymore. It's four o'clock, and dinner's not even a concept? Don't panic, we'll find something. It's August, it's a million degrees outside, and the garden is wilting - except for the tomatoes, which look like a jungle and are threatening to eat neighborhood dogs? Don't panic, the hose and a bungee cord will handle everything. Then... We arrive at my Monkey.
Monkey is currently happily "playing" video games with Uncle Omero. Monkey has a controller that lights up. It isn't hooked to anything, but he likes being One Of The Big Guys.
I mean, look at him. He looks pretty normal for a nearly four year old. He's (mostly) sweet and kind, he's curious and loves to play, and in my own opinion, he's cute as a button. But then, then there are days where I actually think about what we're working on for school. These days are usually triggered by what other people's children roughly Monkey's age are doing. Today's freak-out was triggered by a giveaway. The blog I stumbled into was giving away a "learn the alphabet" CD/DVD+workbook. The poster's 3.5 year old loves the system. There were several commenters that mentioned that they think their four year olds would love it, too. So I go check it out, because really, if the kids are loving it, and it's a giveaway, I may as well enter, right? Not today. The system in question is to teach children letter sounds and formations. I have no real use for either aspect of this. Monkey's fine motor skills won't support pencil writing in workbook sizes. His letters tend to be about 18" tall, when he makes them at all. Letters with curves (C,D,B, etc) are barely legible at all, even at that size. But letters and sounds, Monkey knew all of those before he turned two. He knew uppercase and lowercase letters and could make the sounds for all of them before he turned three. And I hadn't paid any much attention to his learning at that point. Then, at 3y2m, he asked me to teach him to read. So, I gathered myself up, and off we went. He is now just shy of four (like, two days shy!), and happily working on Hooked on Phonics. We started Hooked on Phonics in June, and now he's getting ready to finish the first grade levels. Also, since May, he's done 12 weeks of math work. Not terribly impressive until you realize he's done those 12 weeks of work in eight four-day weeks - making the actual numbers more like he's done 15 weeks of work in his 8 weeks.
This is where I panic. And not a little either. Everything is all about Back to School. Monkey would be gearing up for his first year of public school, entering Junior Kindergarten for full-day, spending the day with children who are socially and chronologically his age, but emotionally years older than him, and cognitively years younger.
I look at the numbers on the materials he's using and my mind rebels. As Monkey is my only child, and we don't know any other children his age, he seems like he's just a normal kid. His books and interests tell me another story. It's confusing and slightly disturbing. He doesn't fit any "regular" parameters. Parenting books are no use - what section do you turn to? 2, 4, or 8? Other people don't understand - I'm not pushing my son. He just does this. The only thing I push is that he has to try. Even if it's just for a minute, he has to try. Since he'd be starting school in the fall anyway, I don't feel this is unfair in any respect. He asked me to teach him to read. He could add and subtract within ten before I even realized he could, before he was 3. This is who he is, this is how he is. I wouldn't have him any other way. And then, there's the flip side - he throws epic fits when he is upset. I hesitate to call it temper tantrum, because this is not a "for attention" thing, it's simply that he's upset and can't manage his emotions. And these storms are not quiet, they are not short. These are epic screaming, crying, kicking, hitting, flailing storming fits. And people look at me and wonder why I don't "discipline" him, why I don't make him mind me, why I don't sign him up for group sports that are drop-off-and-let-coach-deal events. It's not that I'm sheltering him, or trying to raise a terror. It's that emotionally, my child is about two. He is just not ready. This is just who he is, this is how he is. I wouldn't have him any other way.
Having a gifted child is absolutely a gift. So is having a "regular" child. Just as having any other child is full of ups and downs, good times and hard times, so is having a gifted child. I'm sure that if I weren't panicking about Monkey's academics, I'd be panicking about something else. But as it stands, this child I have surprises me on a nearly daily basis, and most of the things he comes up with pull me up short, reminding me that I really need to find a good picture to hang all over the house - one that clearly states, in large, friendly letters, "Don't Panic."
This is where I panic. And not a little either. Everything is all about Back to School. Monkey would be gearing up for his first year of public school, entering Junior Kindergarten for full-day, spending the day with children who are socially and chronologically his age, but emotionally years older than him, and cognitively years younger.
I look at the numbers on the materials he's using and my mind rebels. As Monkey is my only child, and we don't know any other children his age, he seems like he's just a normal kid. His books and interests tell me another story. It's confusing and slightly disturbing. He doesn't fit any "regular" parameters. Parenting books are no use - what section do you turn to? 2, 4, or 8? Other people don't understand - I'm not pushing my son. He just does this. The only thing I push is that he has to try. Even if it's just for a minute, he has to try. Since he'd be starting school in the fall anyway, I don't feel this is unfair in any respect. He asked me to teach him to read. He could add and subtract within ten before I even realized he could, before he was 3. This is who he is, this is how he is. I wouldn't have him any other way. And then, there's the flip side - he throws epic fits when he is upset. I hesitate to call it temper tantrum, because this is not a "for attention" thing, it's simply that he's upset and can't manage his emotions. And these storms are not quiet, they are not short. These are epic screaming, crying, kicking, hitting, flailing storming fits. And people look at me and wonder why I don't "discipline" him, why I don't make him mind me, why I don't sign him up for group sports that are drop-off-and-let-coach-deal events. It's not that I'm sheltering him, or trying to raise a terror. It's that emotionally, my child is about two. He is just not ready. This is just who he is, this is how he is. I wouldn't have him any other way.
Having a gifted child is absolutely a gift. So is having a "regular" child. Just as having any other child is full of ups and downs, good times and hard times, so is having a gifted child. I'm sure that if I weren't panicking about Monkey's academics, I'd be panicking about something else. But as it stands, this child I have surprises me on a nearly daily basis, and most of the things he comes up with pull me up short, reminding me that I really need to find a good picture to hang all over the house - one that clearly states, in large, friendly letters, "Don't Panic."
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