Gifted Issues Discussion homepage Forums General Discussion A Different View

And if I didn't have that bad habit of wandering away from the computer mid-post, I could have just waited and read what Kriston said and written "me too"

Well, given how long my post is, maybe I should have waited and said "me, too" to your post!

Sorry! It's obviously a subject near and dear to my heart!

Kriston...great post and really elegantly put and I think you nailed it for a lot of us. So ditto from me.

Although it wasn't my intent to make anyone feel the need to defend their feelings, I think I may have done just that. But along with that comes a much better understanding of how/why these feelings are there for many of you.

Maybe it's because I haven't run into anything serious (at least not yet)My DS loves school, the entire district is behind him and he's happy. He's never been bullied and if something is too easy or boring it gets changed. I have no idea whether he's HG or PG (haven't quite figured that criteria out yet)but at this point it doesn't matter.

I also believe that because of all of the kids that i've had, I do have a different sense of what a child needs to grow into an adult that anyone would be proud to claim. I spend hours in conversation with kids that don't have any idea what a "parent" is. All they want is someone to give a damn, to know that someone has their back and cares whether or not they succeed. You'll have to take my word for it, these kids are amazed with dinner every night, help with homework and a hug before bed. Happiness is something you can't pull out of your pocket, it's inside of our children, planted by us, the ones who prove time and again that they're not alone.

Now that I've managed to go completely off the topic, I'll just hush and count myself extremely lucky that our road has been so easy.

I think part of a normal childhood is feeling like you really belong in the community you live in and not feeling like you are being shunned because you are different from the average kid. A normal childhood would include the option to go to the public school without worrying about the bullies who would target you for being a smart kid. Another part of a normal childhood would include feeling like you could be yourself, without having to watch the vocabulary you use because you can't even be sure the adults know the meaning of some of the words you use. A normal childhood would include being able to talk to other people about what you are interested in instead of having to constantly listen to people talk about sports and when you tell them you don't do sports, just musical theatre and piano and an occasional spelling bee and they just look at you and say "Oh" almost as if there is something wrong with the things you like. Part of a normal childhood would be having neighborhood kids to play with and a mom who doesn't worry so much all the time about the future.

Yes, my son has parents who care, but what if something happens to us? He does not have the right in our state to an appropriate education in our public school because he is twice exceptional.

I am not sad that he is gifted because it's part of what makes him such a wonderful kid and why he seems so mature for his age in some ways and why my son and daughter are closer than most siblings in spite of an 18 year age difference. Unlike my daughter at this age, he is not embarrassed by his parents and seems to really enjoy being around us and talking to us. He likes doing things as a family more than my daughter did. He is better than I am at looking at things from different perspectives and focusing on the positive in things and pointing them out to me when I have trouble seeing them. He is gifted at making up jokes to cheer me up and his grandfather and everyone else that he is around.

I am not sad about the kind of kid I have at all because this is an example of the kind of kid I have. My husband, my son and I went to turn in his car to be checked and weighed for the Cub Scout Pinewood Derby. It would be his last Pinewood Derby since he is in Webelos II. He has always told us this was his favorite thing to do in Cub Scouts. When we went to turn in the car we were told that they had made a few changes this year that we didn't know about because we had missed several meetings because he had to be in rehearsals on those nights. He couldn't really afford to miss any rehearsals because he has a slight motor learning disability that makes it a little harder for him to learn the dances. So the car they made was disqualified. My husband and son were both disappointed because they had spent a lot of time on the car and they used plans that were purchased from the scout store. But one of the scout leaders had an extra old car that he said my son could use. It didn't look nearly as nice as the one they had made but my son accepted it and thanked him.

When we left, my husband told our son he was really sorry about the car, especially since this would be his last chance to race. My son told his dad that it was okay because he really enjoyed people watching and hanging out with his friends more than racing. He didn't want his dad to feel bad.

The next day at the Pinewood Derby he was really surprised when his borrowed car won first place for Webelos II and he got second for craftsmanship (they did let him use his own car for that). My son felt funny about accepting the first place trophy but the leaders told them that they were glad to give it to him because of the way he acted the night before when he was told his car was disqualified. They told us a father and son came in after us who had also missed some meetings, didn't know about the changes, and their car was also disqualified. The dad threw a fit, yelled at the scout leaders in front of all the kids and pulled his son out of scouts.

Well, the fact is that these feelings are VERY common among parents of HG+ kids, and they are often, frankly, rather surprising to those same people. We often get posts after GT ID or some change in a school situation asking why the poster feels as if she is grieving some loss. But it does make sense, I think, in context.

As for having kids who are happy and healthy being enough. I agree in theory. I also know that GTness in an unfriendly classroom made my son VERY unhappy to the point of being unhealthy. Did it make me wish he weren't GT? No. But DH and I had to act to prevent damage from being done to his fragile 6yo self-concept and his emotional health, not to mention his intellectual development. That felt a lot like a medical problem: scary, unknown, risky. It sure sapped my strength...and all joy from my son's life.

So GT is not unrelated to that happy and healthy that you seem to think of as pretty basic; happy and healthy was quite complicated for us--downright elusive, in fact--for a while there.

It sounds like you haven't had to mourn the loss of anything. Your child's education has been good for him, his school is responsive and supportive...and hooray for that! May you never understand why some of us feel as we do!

When I was pregnant with my first child, I read a bit about gifted kids being more of a handful, so I was sort of prepared when ds was just 'on' 90% of the time...but since then, there have been things which I was not expecting, mainly his being sad about and 'hating' school in 1st grade (things are now vastly improved).

This thread reminds me of something else I read, actually about finding out you have a child who has down syndrome. I believe it was a father writing, and he said basically it's like you've planned a trip to France. You have friends there, you've got all the right things packed, so on. You end up being routed to Norway. Seriously, Norway is not a bad place to end up, however it is completely not what you were expecting. Plus you don't know anyone...the gt thing, it's a bit of that same anger, fear & confusion only more so of having found out you're in a different country; you might not even have your baggage, no accomodations so you have to scurry around and figure *everything* out that you had already so carefully planned.

I get the point that it is on a different level than finding out that your child is gravely ill, but finding out, for sure, that your child is different than most kids ..... it's a trip.

I'm not even sure I should be chiming in since I think ds is *only* mg, maybe eg, and for me things have been a bit more like Wren's story of wanting a gt child.

We found out during the first ultrasound that DW has a unicornate uterus and that we ran a very high risk of a very preemie baby. We and the OB planned for a delivery during the 6th month.

After the 6th month, every day was a gift. He lasted longer than any thought. Mr W WAS premature, but with an APGAR of 9. So there is no denial, no sadness, none of that - just the thankfulness that he is here in our lives, healthy and happy - from the very beginning we have and will take him anyway he is and that trumps and outshines anything else.

For me the process started out with desperate fear that we wouldn't live up to our responsibilities - that we might fail our children despite all efforts. I have baggage - I lived the underachiever life - school went badly for me and the aftermath was worse. And I know others who had similar experiences. Of course we are aware, and vigilant, and prepared to do whatever we can to make sure this doesn't happen to our boys, so hopefully we'll be able to make things work better for them. But still - always fearful.

And grief too - when problems started to arise at school and it became apparent that really feeling part of a community, so important as Lori says, was going to be difficult for DS6. He's such a people person - he's struggled so much with not being able to really relate to his classmates. It's hard to know how to explain that to a little boy and awful to think that it might be necessary. I'm hoping we can find him a more appropriate setting rather than leave him to adjust to friendship circle that leaves him feeling isolated.

They're wonderful boys and the loves of my life. But I'll be happier when I feel a degree of certainty that things are working out well for them.

Austin, that must have been terrifying, and how wonderful and joyous to have him. It reminds me of how often I take for granted that my boys are here at all, which is shameful. They were both IVF, and I can still remember the bottom of my world dropping out when I was told I might not be able to have children. Healthy perspective is a wonderful thing.

Still fear, but much less than joy.