Roses, mini-golf, and "exceptional" children

Yesterday was a hoot. The kids and I took a couple of other kids to play mini golf (which eventually led to laser tag... and Skee Ball... and milkshakes...). All six of us played golf together and had a great time even though the skies had a bad case of climatic Turette's yesterday switching instantaneously between hot and sunny and raining like the bejeebers. Luckily, none of us wore white shirts so we were able to play through the rain (no thunder... a strange occurrence here in CO). I don't want to brag about my mini golf prowess (so that's why I'm posting this on my blog...), but I schooled those kids. Look - when you spent most of your PE classes waiting to find out if you'd be picked last or next-to-last (hallelujah!), you've got to savor every small victory -- even if it's at the expense of innocent children.

The roses are blooming their hearts out. It's really overcast this morning so everything looks especially perky outside.

William Baffin

Thérèse Bugnet

Harison's Yellow

I had another one of those experiences in a group of parents where everyone wanted to talk about how "exceptional" their children are and how the public school system is failing them. Let me preface this by saying that I have children who are exceptional in various ways -- even in ways that can be measured by standardized tests -- but I still believe that my kids' (or my own) need to reach for ever greater heights of "exceptional" shouldn't eclipse the need of so many other kids to reach basic competency. Sometimes my kids are bored by material they've already mastered -- welcome to the real world, Pumpkins, do you think the cashier at Safeway is experiencing some new revelation about groceries each and every day at work? Heck, do you think professors who have been teaching the same 100-level biology class for the 12th time are thrilled beyond measure? Those of us with "exceptional" kids have the luxury of being able to focus on other interests at home as opposed to endlessly working on basic skills (but be assured that we do plenty of times table flash cards around here, too). I have my complaints about school but I can't bear another conversation with some upper-middle-class parent that starts with, "You see, (insert overly literary name here) is gifted." Make sure to use an artificially somber and entirely self-pitying tone (think about when you were a teenager and girls would say thing like, "Oh my god, it must be soooo nice not to have big boobs, I mean, mine are such a pain when I want to run or buy boys shirts or something.") when you read that in your mind.

Sure, just like any parent with a kid who is a little extra special in some way or another (and good luck finding a kid who isn't), you've got to spend some energy advocating for your kid. It's as much a part of parenting as keeping them fed, clothed, and sheltered.

Gotta go put the soapbox away now. Happy Tuesday!