Birthday and the existential crisis of turning 7

Today is Alexander's 7th birthday. He wakes up happy, but almost immediately begins to cry when Patrick and I sing him the Happy Birthday song. I'll admit, we're rotten singers. But we're not so bad as to make a boy cry.

No, rather, Alex is crying because "I'm going to miss being six. I'll never be six again, at no point in the future will I ever be six again."

This brings to mind the day, when Alexander was four, that he realized his then-obsession with Thomas the Tank Engine would not last forever. He cried then, and said he was sad that his future self would not always share the interests of his present self.

Lately, there have been a handful bedtime existential crises as well, having to do with death and dying, the past and the future.

I have tried to comfort my son today by telling him we accumulate years, rather than lose them to a new age. "I hate age," he tells me. "It's a terrible thing."

I agree, but really thought it would take another 70 years for him to realize it.

We are off to Seaworld to celebrate. Yesterday it was the Wild Animal Park. Alexander and I do not fare well at zoos. We stood weeping at the gorilla enclosure yesterday for a good ten minutes. The gorillas made eye contact with us, comforted one another with pats to the back, communicated, looked bored and sad. "I thought only bad people would put gorillas in a cage," said Alexander. I didn't know what to say.

It hasn't been all sadness, though. Alexander has taken to delighting in scandalizing us in public, as though he were 11 or 12 rather than 7. Last night, as we dined at a Mexican restaurant, he looked around the room and called out, with a grin on his face, "Anybody got a Budweiser? I love ale!"

Alex has never had beer, and I have had maybe one beer since he was born, and not in his presence.

Alex began laughing. Later, he said, "Mom, why did you throw me out that window and then offer me a beer to make me feel better?" He giggled as he said it. Ah, yes, the power of fiction.

"Alex," I told him. "I understand that it's funny to say highly inappropriate things. That's how many adult comedians make their living. But unless you want mommy and daddy to end up in jail, you have to stop saying things like this. Few people are going to realize that a 7-year-old can make up stories like this for his own amusement, and I don't want you to end up in foster care."

He considered it. "Oh," he said. "Okay."

Good news

I'm not going to tell you to disregard the last post. It was true, for a time. But I am happy to report that Patrick and I have been able to work through our problems, and that we are hanging on. He's got a job now, and both of us feel very good about it. He works in the evenings, and does homeschool with Alex in the day, while I write. I take over with Alex about 3 p.m., and so far so good.

I read a study about the parents of autistic children somewhere once, about how high the divorce rate is for those families. I wonder if the divorce rate is not high for parents of profoundly gifted kids as well. I am not blaming Alexander. I'm simply saying that this has got to be one of the hardest jobs in the world, raising a kid like this. It's the most rewarding job in the world, of course. But hard. Very hard.

We've gotten involved with a wonderful secular homeschool group in our area, and Alex is becomming much more social. That was sort of his big area where he needed work. Leaps and bounds, though. The improvement is stunning. He has also become an incredibly loving boy. I'm told this is normal for age 7, which is coming up in a week. He's always hugging mom and dad, telling us he loves us.

I wish I had the energy to write in greater detail about what we're doing, but I'm so busy with writing. I am nearly burnt out. I've got a new book out in July, another I'm rewriting that will be out next year. I'm writing another novel, under a pseudonym, and I'm writing a TV pilot for The N. Things are good, but it's almost too much work.

I will try to carve out some time to really sit down with this blog and write something meaningful.

The Unexpected Consequences of Homeschool

Alexander continues to thrive in homeschool. His mother continues to enjoy it, but I am very tired. I'm not only doing my usual job of novel-writing, and a new freelance "job" as a commentator for the local NPR affiliate - I am also spending eight to nine hours a day preparing for and implementing the school day.

While I expected Alex would do better at home than in a regular classroom, and was proved right, there have been several unexpected consequences of me homeschooling Alex, for me.

First, my marriage has fallen apart. It is not the fault of homeschool. It's more like me doing homeschool made me face the fact that I was doing so much more for everyone than was Patrick. I was the primary (and only) breadwinner. I was the one who managed all the interactions with teachers and schools for Alex. I was the one who did all the cooking, shopping, and much of the cleaning. On and on. And then, in a strange moment, when I went for my restylane injections in my smile lines (hey, I'm 38, what do you want?) the doctor pointed out that I only needed it on the left. I realized that I had spent much of the past year sleeping waaay over at the edge of my bed, faced away from Patrick. He, for his part, was similarly positioned in the opposite directon. We had grown irrevocably apart. Being home with Alexander made me realize that I just don't want to be a mother to his father. I love being a mother to my son, but I am tired of raising his dad.

New of our separation has been hard on Alex, who desperately wishes we'd stay together. He feels things so intensely. It's hard on all kids when the parents call it quits, but I think that for kids like Alex it is even harder. He overthinks it all, analyzes everything, and tries to fix it.

From my perspective, I am much happier. I feel an ease and balance that I did not feel before. I realized how much energy I wasted in a dead relationship with Patrick. Now, all that energy can go to Alex, and to myself.

And this leads us to unexpected consequence No. 2: A healthier me. Before, when Alex was at a public school all day, I did my writing while he was there. By the time he got home, I felt guilty for not having seen him all day, and chose to stay home with him the rest of the day, in spite of my loving to exercise in the evenings. Now? Now I spend most of the day tutoring Alex, playing with Alex, cooking with Alex. By the time evening comes, I am more than happy to take myself to the gym. In fact, I NEED it. In the brief time we've been doing homeschool, I have lost a whopping 11 pounds. I look younger, feel better. I did not anticipate this being part of the program, and yet here it is.

Finally, another unexpected consequence was that because of this blog we ended up hearing from another family whose child had been in Alex's class at the start of the year. They had pulled her out for many of the same reasons we pulled Alex out. Alex just had a playdate with this child, and it was all I could do not to cry the entire time. He has never connected with other kids his age. I had hoped that at his public school, in the program for gifted kids, he would. But he didn't. The rules and regulations and the overall approach of the school did not empower these kids to be themselves, and so he closed down. As did this other child. But the two of them together now was a lovely thing to watch. As he left the playdate, the girl came running over with a sticker to put on his shirt. It read: "BEST BUDS". Alex stared at it, mouth open, stunned that someone liked him. It was heartbreaking. They will be playing again soon, and the boost to Alex's confidence has been great. To think of all the times I asked parents from Alex's class at the school if they were interested in playdates, and got NO response from any of them (they were a strange bunch, in some ways), and that now, when we pull him out to homeschool him, he makes his first real friend. Who knew?

Our social lives are also getting better. Both of us. Patrick was a bit antisocial, which I never thought helped Alex much. I realized that in the course of my marriage to him I had allowed myself to be encased in his bubble of social anxiety. Bit by bit, I'd lost friends, or stopped going out. Well, now that is changing. I'm reconnecting with old friends, and making new ones, and making an effort to get out more. I've connected with a couple of groups - cultural and political - that have outings where kids are welcome, including a dinner party this weekend. Alex seems to enjoy this new social mommy.

So, there it is. Happy kid, happy mom. I'm not sure about the dad, but I can't worry about him anymore. There's too much living to be done.

My Beautiful Boy

My dad sent me this photo today, taken at his house last month when we were visiting. I love this photo so much, for so many reasons. First, my son is the most gorgeous thing on the planet. I love the thoughtful look in his eyes. I love the hat, which makes him look very Cuban. I love that he's in the living room where I grew up, reading in a house where reading was the most important thing.

(Note: Alexander is very tall for his age. He wears size 10 clothes, and is the height of your average 8 or 9 year old, though he is only six.)

When I look at this photo, I see something in his eyes that I don't always notice when he's moving a million miles an hour in real life: the man my son is going to be - thoughtful, a little world-weary because of it, content to sit and read and figure things out.

Just like my father, his grandfather. How blessed I am to have them both in my life! Thank you, universe!

I love my family so much!

What a Difference a Week Makes!

I know. I promised I wouldn't post anymore of our daily newscasts! But I had to - HAD TO - share this one with you. It has been exactly one week since we began homeschool, and the change in Alexander is simply astonishing.

Last week at this time, he read in a monotone, hunched over, with a sad expression on his face. This morning, he began to read like that again, and I asked him why. He said, "Because this is school, and you're not allowed to be funny or creative at school."

Dear Lord.

I reminded him that the Alexander Brain Academy of Learning and Comedy (as he dubbed homeschool) was different from his old school, and that here he was not only free to be creative and funny, be was ENCOURAGED to. He considered this, and redid the news. The result is posted here.

You will notice that at the start, after being charismatic and dramatic, he says "No Step One!". This was not written into his script. This was spontaneous, my son rejoicing that he was have fun, being himself, and - gasp! - NOT getting punished for it! You can see the change in him on this video. It brings me to tears.

The change is apparent elsewhere in our lives, too. In the past, when he got home from his ex-school, he would cry, or want to crawl into a corner with his Nintendo, and not talk. This past week - and I swear to you I am not exaggerating this in any way - he has been stopping several times throughout the day, just to spontaneously hug me and tell me he loves me. He has done this probably 40 times this week. He had done it, in total, maybe 5 times in all the years leading up to this week. It's as if he suddenly TRUSTS me again. As if, during all the pain of punishment in a school setting (for being himself) he had lost faith in my ability to LOVE HIM because I accepted what the school told me about him. When I began to trust my instincts instead, he recognized it, and no longer feels alone. He has come out of his shell in myriad ways.

I am amazed, and overjoyed, and really don't know what else to say, except: If you can get your highly gifted child out of a punitive school setting, if you can teach that child according to that child's interests, with your own dedication and passion and commitment, if you have it in you to make this sacrifice (and, trust me, I'm not sleeping much these days as I juggle my own work with 10 hours of preparing for and engaging in homeschool) - then you MUST do it! The payoff is huge. I suspect it will only get bigger, too, over the span of this boy's life, as he grows into a man who loves learning, and himself.

Today's News - Meteor Shower!!

I promise not to post every single one of Alexander's morning newscasts, but I wanted to share this one from today. He was sleepy, but I want viewers to pay attention to the ending. Here he is, making "eye" contact with the camera, smiling that charming grin his parents know so well, making a little joke about perfectionism.

With only four days of homeschooling under our belts, his confidence is improving, and his comfort level with his work, too. I am so glad we made this choice. It is obvious to us that there was never anything "wrong" with our child; just with the methods his public school teachers used to teach him.

The Day's News

Part of homeschool is that I have Alex read a short news story from the paper each morning, at the kitchen "news desk". He has done this three times so far, and each time gotten better. Today, he remembered to look at the camera, and even relaxed at the end and said "let's send it to grandpa!"

I wanted to share it with you all, so you might get a better sense of the kid I'm always talking about. Here he is!

The news stories have been great. Today, we studied geology and landslides for about fifteen minutes before doing the newscast. Yesterday, he read about wind-farms off the coast of England, and we talked about clean energy - and unclean energy. His little eyes pooled with tears as he looked at photos of smokestacks at coal plants, and he asked me if all that pollution was going to "kill all the pokemon." He was very upset about that possibility.

I try to keep the stories light, but Alexander is a pretty sensitive kid. He has allergies, too, so it's tricky getting him not to scratch his eyes during the "news". We'll get there!