As I wrote to a dear friend today,
Now I've been drinking some gin + lime + soda, trying to recover from an empowering but emotionally draining day at the therapist's office with the youngest son, who is getting through the process of being diagnosed as twice-exceptional: gifted to the point of genius in certain ways, and also having dyslexia and dysgraphia.
Another Saturday gone, hours upon hours spent with therapists. Finding out that Spark ranks in the exceptional/genius range for some innate skills, and he's at kindergarten level for what his teachers have been trying to help him learn for the last three years. What a mixed blessing.
Spark is gifted in some of the same areas that Primo is, which will be a great help as we try to build on their shared interests. But where Primo taught himself to read at age 6, and read Rowling's complete Harry Potter series TWICE over the summer when he was 9, Spark is still trying to keep his lower and uppercase letters straight.
We're also looking at moderate to severe depression in Spark. My mother heart aches for him, knowing that this kind, creative, spunky, imaginative kiddo thinks of himself as one of the 'dumb' kids. Can't keep his days straight. Never knows how long a minute or an hour feels. Can hear everything that's going on in a room, but can't focus on what one person is saying. We're all going to learn how to support him in this.
So, this family is blessed with two healthy, amazing sons. One may be going to the university at age 15, and one may turn out to be an engineer who can't spell.
Like many special-needs parents, I'm in it for the long haul. I might have to pull over and cry every now and then, but I know these guys are worth every bit of effort we exert on their behalf.