About Kaz being severely gifted....still weirded out. I thought that the psychologist sort of made this word up, but no, apparently it's a real thing. Once again Dr.Google is being most helpful. As are all of you. (Thank you thank you thank you----I love my friends in the computer!) I think I'm just not sure what the hell I'm supposed to do, and a lot of the information from Google I've found is American. Mostly because if there is information in Ontario, it's not loads. (Yes, I did find the link Lori mentioned, one bright lite!)
Why would we do anything about it? Well, so far I'm reading that there is a lot of evidence that kids like this can end up with serious socio-emotional problems if they are not challenged and encouraged the right way. (Question still to be answered: What is the right way?) For example, lots of them are so scared of sticking out of the crowd, they hide their gifts and pretend to be average just to fit in. Others become bored as hell and get in trouble. Many become perfectionists and get so anxious about their academic performance they become paralyzed and end up not even getting an education.
I went to the Ontario Ministry of Education website, and found sweet dick all. Apparently there are a lot of resources for the other end of the spectrum and lots for anyone who is average range of intelligence and has various LD, but almost zero for a kid who could do an entire credit of math in one day, instead of the minimum mandated 110 hours. Even if the psychologist, and we as his parents, and he himself, and the teachers and the principal all agree, it's hideously difficult to do. Apparently things are a little rigid that way....
We're not making any decisions yet, but I'm a little disgruntled to discover that some options are less easy than others. Then again, why should anything be easy?
Good things about this diagnosis:
I no longer feel guilty about the forceps at birth, the meconium, the untreated reflux, the time I dropped him, the time my husband dropped him, the times I didn't run fast enough to get him when he cried, the times I couldn't pump enough breastmilk for cereal or babysitting and he had to have some formula, the times he had diaper rash because I didn't change his diaper often enough, the eczema he had that I had forgot to rub cream on, the time he fell down the flight of stairs, the home daycare I left him in, the casual neighbourhood babysitters I left him with before that, the really great daycare centre I left him in that was still DAYCARE aka Teh root of all evil, the times when I was a stay at home mom who didn't know what the hell I was doing, the excessively lengthy amount of children's and adult television he watched, the insane amount of time he spent in the car commuting, the playdates I neglected to set up, the piano practice he had to do while Mac screamed at the top of his lungs, the playground visits we didn't do as much as the neighbours did, the times I worked outside the home, the times I stayed at home, the wine I drank, the germs I gave him, the genes I gave him, the McDonald's/pizza/transfat-ridden/allergy-infested fast food insta meals I fed him, the ritalin/concerta/adderall aka Teh second root of all evil that I gave him, the time he spent playing computer games, video games, gameboy games, and of course, making him go through all of our fertility and babyloss adventures when he was old enough to know what was going on.
And yes, I'm kind of making it sound funny/weird, but really, these are all things I have felt guilty about. Sort of why I always tell all of you to stop feeling guilty when you blog about this stuff.
Sigh....all that crap, all that stress, and somehow in spite of the fact that he's the kid we made all the mistakes on, he's got game.
Thank God, because Julius is going to see the helmet people about his bent head Monday morning and I'm so nervous I feel sick. But maybe a flathead won't matter either?