Trying Something New

Every once in a while, I get this dire need to try something new. Sometimes it's trying to figure out how to crochet without squares turning into giant triangles, sometimes it's diet related, and this time... This time it's trying to figure out this whole "morning person" gig.

Learning Something New

I do love learning new things. It's a wonderful feeling, and I get to feel like I'm doing something to help Mad Natter, even if all I'm doing is thinking up new things to bring up to his doctor when we go in for his med review. This week, though, learning has created a bit of an issue for me. I learned some new things about Mad Natter, and I learned a few things about how his care has been horribly wrong despite best efforts, and while I do love learning new things, it's made me stop and think and try to reconcile.

Finding our Joy

A quick bit of history for those not in the know: Mad Natter started preschool at 3. It was about three weeks in (at two days per week) that we started hearing rumblings about perhaps ADHD. Skeeve and I knew there was something amiss, but we didn't know precisely what. All we knew was that our child, from the age of 2.5, no longer seemed to meet a certain subset of developmental milestones - anything doing with delayed gratification, impulse control of any kind. Once he got into preschool, and things needed to be done on a schedule that wasn't 100% his own making, we learned that he had a distinct inability to follow directions on top of the impulse control.

Resource Review: 5 Levels of Gifted: School Issues and Educational Options by Deborah Ruf

This post contains affiliate links to materials discussed. Purchases via these links help support our family at no additional cost to you. Thank you for choosing to support my little blog. Read my full disclosure statement here 

Once I had a handle on the fact that Mad Natter was, in fact, different from other children his age (trust me, when you're the only person you know within 500 miles who has a child, it can be difficult to see that your child is a little odd), I needed to know what was different - and hopefully why. Skeeve gave me a big "duh" when I mentioned I thought he might be gifted - Mad Natter's favorite cousin, Miss M, is gifted, which is why it even hit my radar. I didn't realize that both Mad Natter's parents are gifted too, nor that at least one of my cousins is as well. Anyway, I needed something conclusive. So I went over to Deborah Ruf's website, and ran through the assessment there. All it does is ask when your child met certain milestones, and since I'm fairly obsessive with a ridiculous memory for sequences, it was easy for me. Mad Natter was only three at the time, so a lot of accuracy was sacrificed, but it gave me an answer. Even with the likelihood of this being a serious underestimation, Mad Natter is clearly gifted. So, what's a mama to do?  FIND A BOOK! And so I did - the book that corresponds with the assessment I'd just done; 5 Levels of Gifted: School Issues and Educational Options by Deborah Ruf.

Perfectionism Meets Hockey

Mad Natter plays hockey. He's getting alarmingly good, and equally alarmingly, he likes playing goalie. This is a great outlet for him, and allows him free run of a weekend activity designed to keep him moving and get some of his excess energy out. The double-plus bonus here is that a hockey rink is self-contained. The boards mean he can't take off on a whim, which means that I can sit with the other parents and watch him play, knowing he's as safe as he's going to get out there. Thankfully.

The problem comes in when Mad Natter's abilities and his desires don't match up.

How do YOU say "Gifted"?

This week, Mad Natter had a visit to the doctor. Our regular GP had been on maternity leave the last time we were in for his checkup, so we did a whole evaluation - which inevitably brings about the question, "so, how's school?" Homeschooling helps a bunch of that, as it's really easy to report on his progress, but when the doctor asks things like "why are you homeschooling? Do you just like it?" you have a choice. You can give a non-committal answer and hope for the best, or you can choose to tell the care provider the whole truth about your child. Naturally, you want the doctor to have the most complete information about your child as possible, but what do you do then?

I Was Going to Write a Review for You.

I was, I swear. I was going to write a lovely review of a book that had case studies in it and everything!  But, then something happened. On Tuesday, I brought up "I know Mad Natter is still too young for the ADHD discussion..." and our GP listened. She saw the switch flip. She put in a call to the ped in practice with over 30 years of  experience. On Wednesday, I got a call to schedule an appointment - for yesterday. We jumped. The ped saw the switch flip, too. He listened. After years, plural, we found a team who would listen. After enough years that it feels like lifetimes, the doctors saw what we see, they listened, and now? Now we're moving forward with a plan. I haven't had time to write that wonderful review, because I've been too busy being ecstatic over someone being willing to help Mad Natter, Skeeve, and me. I haven't been able to corral my brain into any semblance of proper working order since - I've been going in multiple directions, herding everyone I can to get paperwork to me as fast as they can, so we can get this whole thing turned around in significantly less time than it took to get it started.

Relief. Gratitude. Drive.

No time for love writing, Doctor Jones. No focus.

THEY LISTENED. FOR ONCE IN YEARS, THEY LISTENED!!!

Grades, Homeschooling, and Giftedness.

One of the perpetual questions you hear when you're a child is "what grade are you in?" But, when you're a homeschooler, you're often in several grades at once. When your child is gifted besides, the spread of grades is sometimes fairly spectacular. So what do you say - or does your child say?

A Little Leeway

Here in Mooselandia, it's coming right up on tax return time. What this means is that it's time to put together my plan for next school year. In the process, I end up reviewing our provincial standards, checking off boxes, prompting freakouts, and then wondering whether or not I'm really ready for this. Of course, much like having a child at all in the first place, you're never truly ready until it happens and you've got no choice but to go forward.

The Newest Love of my (Homeschool) Life

This post contains affiliate links to materials discussed. Purchases via these links help support our family at no additional cost to you. Thank you for choosing to support my little blog. Read my full disclosure statement here

Ages ago, Mrs Warde got a new printer. I, however, got a bad case of printer envy. She had just gotten a new machine that would print black and white, quickly, as well as printing double sided. Double-sided printing! And we use Math Mammoth, and I buy a lot of ebooks for our curricula, so many books to print out and use.  Double-sided printing, using half the paper! Not only the environmentally friendly option, but the less expensive one as well!  Oh, the opportunities for my office supply loving self!  How exciting!  Then, I looked at my local store. The price tag on that printer?  $400+.  Ouch.  That's a tax return purchase after all.  Now, to wait a year.  But then, not long ago, our local Staples had a sale.

Love and Distance!

I started this whole bloggy thing back in May of 2013. My first "official" blog hop was the very next month, and while many things have changed in my daily life since then, I've managed to keep right on blogging.  This turns out to be both a blessing and a curse, though, as time goes by. Between blog hops and networking and #gtchat, I've found an incredible number of other bloggers who, like me, are raising these very interesting and challenging children, and who not only have similar lives in some respects, but for whom I have a lot of respect, and feel a great deal of both admiration and kinship. Unfortunately, those very same people are spread all over the world, and regrettably, most live a minimum of double-digit driving distance from my front door.