Thursday – The Tulip
Mar. 19th, 2009 10:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermore.
.
.
I've got one of those analytical type brains. When I see a puzzle, I immediately try to figure out how the pieces fit together. When I see a maze, I try to find my way through it. When I see my son, I see a little puzzle inside of a maze.
At the risk of sounding like one of those parents who makes excuses for their inexcusable offspring, I've come to the conclusion that my son is not abnormal. The problem lies in that his normal is not the same as other children's.
When he was a year and a half old, the people who took care of him often told me that he was their favorite because he was just so sweet.
"He's my little cuddle-buddy," one teacher told me. "In the afternoon when all the other kids are running around, he just likes to be held."
How do I reconcile this with a child who at 4 is nobody's favorite because he still bites and throws tantrums? When I look at the puzzle pieces in front of me, it occurs to me that at one and a half years old, he liked to be held like an infant. At 4, he reacts to stress like a toddler.
Intellectually, he is where everyone says he should be. Even the teachers who don't like having him in their class tell me he seems to be very smart. But there is more to brain devolvement than IQ. The part of his brain that handles temperament is not operating at the same level as the children around him. He bites and hits kids who try to play with him because he still prefers the parallel play, where children play next to each other without interacting, that is typical for 2 and 3 year olds.
If he were developmentally delayed in any other way, this aspect of him would not surprise anyone. But because he is so bright and so normal in every other aspect, this one area where he lags behind is seen as unacceptable. If he were not my son, I might not accept it myself. But he is my son. I love him. He advanced to the parallel play level a bit behind everyone else, but he got there. Give him time, and he will advance to the interactive play that his peers engage in.
Other pieces of the puzzle fall into place around my son like a frame.
"Jeff is just a late bloomer," my sister in law, Rosie, told me early in my relationship with Jeff. "I always knew he'd find someone, settle down. He was just later than other people." I met Jeff when I was 20 and he was 30. The fact that he was smart, but didn't seem that far ahead of me emotionally suddenly seems very clear to me.
The fact that my son's older brother had a lot of the same issue my son is having (and then some) but turned out all right adds to the picture. My stepson is 20 and very bright, but emotionally he reminds me of a 14 year old. If I look at him closely, he starts to look like a map to the road ahead of me.
Now that I have all the puzzle pieces assembled, I have to face the maze. How do I nurture this late bloomer and give him the time he needs to blossom when the world around him seems to want him pruned and discarded? The world is a big garden, and it has room for all kinds of blooms in it. Not every type of flower blooms at the same time as others, but sometimes those late bloomers are the most amazing flowers. The garden is arranged in a labyrinth, and through it I'm carrying a little flower pot with a little bulb – a tulip, perhaps – buried beneath the soil.
I want to beg all the self-appointed gardeners out there to be patient. My son is not a weed that needs to be pulled, or dead wood that needs to be trimmed. With time and patience, he will bloom in his own time and in his own season.
Just you wait.
I promise: he will be beautiful.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
.
.
I've got one of those analytical type brains. When I see a puzzle, I immediately try to figure out how the pieces fit together. When I see a maze, I try to find my way through it. When I see my son, I see a little puzzle inside of a maze.
At the risk of sounding like one of those parents who makes excuses for their inexcusable offspring, I've come to the conclusion that my son is not abnormal. The problem lies in that his normal is not the same as other children's.
When he was a year and a half old, the people who took care of him often told me that he was their favorite because he was just so sweet.
"He's my little cuddle-buddy," one teacher told me. "In the afternoon when all the other kids are running around, he just likes to be held."
How do I reconcile this with a child who at 4 is nobody's favorite because he still bites and throws tantrums? When I look at the puzzle pieces in front of me, it occurs to me that at one and a half years old, he liked to be held like an infant. At 4, he reacts to stress like a toddler.
Intellectually, he is where everyone says he should be. Even the teachers who don't like having him in their class tell me he seems to be very smart. But there is more to brain devolvement than IQ. The part of his brain that handles temperament is not operating at the same level as the children around him. He bites and hits kids who try to play with him because he still prefers the parallel play, where children play next to each other without interacting, that is typical for 2 and 3 year olds.
If he were developmentally delayed in any other way, this aspect of him would not surprise anyone. But because he is so bright and so normal in every other aspect, this one area where he lags behind is seen as unacceptable. If he were not my son, I might not accept it myself. But he is my son. I love him. He advanced to the parallel play level a bit behind everyone else, but he got there. Give him time, and he will advance to the interactive play that his peers engage in.
Other pieces of the puzzle fall into place around my son like a frame.
"Jeff is just a late bloomer," my sister in law, Rosie, told me early in my relationship with Jeff. "I always knew he'd find someone, settle down. He was just later than other people." I met Jeff when I was 20 and he was 30. The fact that he was smart, but didn't seem that far ahead of me emotionally suddenly seems very clear to me.
The fact that my son's older brother had a lot of the same issue my son is having (and then some) but turned out all right adds to the picture. My stepson is 20 and very bright, but emotionally he reminds me of a 14 year old. If I look at him closely, he starts to look like a map to the road ahead of me.
Now that I have all the puzzle pieces assembled, I have to face the maze. How do I nurture this late bloomer and give him the time he needs to blossom when the world around him seems to want him pruned and discarded? The world is a big garden, and it has room for all kinds of blooms in it. Not every type of flower blooms at the same time as others, but sometimes those late bloomers are the most amazing flowers. The garden is arranged in a labyrinth, and through it I'm carrying a little flower pot with a little bulb – a tulip, perhaps – buried beneath the soil.
I want to beg all the self-appointed gardeners out there to be patient. My son is not a weed that needs to be pulled, or dead wood that needs to be trimmed. With time and patience, he will bloom in his own time and in his own season.
Just you wait.
I promise: he will be beautiful.
