Evil Genius
Sarah (sorry, still not cool enough to know how to post a link) asked if I've had Bob tested for giftedness, wondering if that could be a source of his issues.
I have to say I've thought about this, but probably in a different way than she meant.
It's no question that Bob is smart. Scary smart. It took me a while to figure out--I can remember listening to other kids his age babbling incoherently and wondering why they couldn't speak in complete, clear sentences like my kid. Eventually I realized Bob was the exception and not the rule where verbal skills were concerned. Other people noticed, too. I'd tell a doctor or a daycare director that Bob had an extensive vocabulary, and they'd give me that condescending smile that says "someone's letting their mommy pride create delusions of grandeur." Then they'd meet Bob. And he'd talk the condescending smile right off their faces.
He also has shown a talent for music. He can memorize lyrics. He can hold a beat. He can keep pitch. He's not ready for American Idol by a long shot, but he shows more musical aptitude than most kids his age. When he was barely 3, I hid behind the door of his classroom (the first school that kicked him out) and listened as the teachers asked kids to sing a song. The teacher picked every single kid before Bob, and every single kid sang the same damn one-line "happy birthday to you" over and over again before being stopped. When everyone else had had a turn, she finally called on Bob.
He sang the chorus from the Indigo Girls' "The Map Song." I shit you not. The teachers had no clue what it was, but I recognized it loud and clear and almost had a stroke.
Ben's parents bought him a keyboard for Christmas last year. It hasn't been out since we moved because he never showed a whole lot of interest in actually playing anything--what he wanted to do was sing into the (included) microphone until our ears bled. Until he broke the microphone. For which we were grateful.
He does show some of those freaky gifted kid qualities--like an almost obsessive need to line things up in rows (not that you'd know this by checking out his messy ass bedroom) and an incredible gift for recall. But Bob's not the kind of kid to tell you all about all the things he knows. You have to be aware enough to notice. Like see beyond the marker on the wall to notice his name and simple addition equations written after bedtime. And listening when he tells you "that's not a locust, it's a cicada." Things like that.
And unfortunately, that's been overshadowed by the more noticeable aspects of his personality--the hot temper, the insistence on perfection, the hyperactivity that makes your head spin.
He doesn't like to do things unless he can master them with little effort. He hates to fail. Because of this, he is reluctant to try new lessons at school or learn new things at home. But once he masters something, he loses all interest in it. Combined with the fact he's a boy with a hot temper and who moves constantly and has a history of behavior problems, everyone automatically assumes he has ADHD and can't pay attention.
But I beg to differ. That kid can tune things out and hone in on one thing. Like a conversation between his mother and stepfather when he's pretending to watch tv. Like the comment of a psychiatric nurse practitioner when he's pretending to roll around on his chair like a simpleton. Like an innocently dropped response of "we'll see" to one of his million requests that he brings up six days later.
Oh, he's paying attention, all right. Just not to the things you all want him to pay attention to.
Is he gifted? I have no idea. I was considered a "gifted" child, although I didn't especially shine in any particular area (other than the written word, in which category I was always light years ahead of my peers, but that seemed not to matter as much as the fact I couldn't kick a ball). And I can't get anyone to look at him beyond the constant bouncing around and jabbering and aggression to find out.
I have to say I've thought about this, but probably in a different way than she meant.
It's no question that Bob is smart. Scary smart. It took me a while to figure out--I can remember listening to other kids his age babbling incoherently and wondering why they couldn't speak in complete, clear sentences like my kid. Eventually I realized Bob was the exception and not the rule where verbal skills were concerned. Other people noticed, too. I'd tell a doctor or a daycare director that Bob had an extensive vocabulary, and they'd give me that condescending smile that says "someone's letting their mommy pride create delusions of grandeur." Then they'd meet Bob. And he'd talk the condescending smile right off their faces.
He also has shown a talent for music. He can memorize lyrics. He can hold a beat. He can keep pitch. He's not ready for American Idol by a long shot, but he shows more musical aptitude than most kids his age. When he was barely 3, I hid behind the door of his classroom (the first school that kicked him out) and listened as the teachers asked kids to sing a song. The teacher picked every single kid before Bob, and every single kid sang the same damn one-line "happy birthday to you" over and over again before being stopped. When everyone else had had a turn, she finally called on Bob.
He sang the chorus from the Indigo Girls' "The Map Song." I shit you not. The teachers had no clue what it was, but I recognized it loud and clear and almost had a stroke.
Ben's parents bought him a keyboard for Christmas last year. It hasn't been out since we moved because he never showed a whole lot of interest in actually playing anything--what he wanted to do was sing into the (included) microphone until our ears bled. Until he broke the microphone. For which we were grateful.
He does show some of those freaky gifted kid qualities--like an almost obsessive need to line things up in rows (not that you'd know this by checking out his messy ass bedroom) and an incredible gift for recall. But Bob's not the kind of kid to tell you all about all the things he knows. You have to be aware enough to notice. Like see beyond the marker on the wall to notice his name and simple addition equations written after bedtime. And listening when he tells you "that's not a locust, it's a cicada." Things like that.
And unfortunately, that's been overshadowed by the more noticeable aspects of his personality--the hot temper, the insistence on perfection, the hyperactivity that makes your head spin.
He doesn't like to do things unless he can master them with little effort. He hates to fail. Because of this, he is reluctant to try new lessons at school or learn new things at home. But once he masters something, he loses all interest in it. Combined with the fact he's a boy with a hot temper and who moves constantly and has a history of behavior problems, everyone automatically assumes he has ADHD and can't pay attention.
But I beg to differ. That kid can tune things out and hone in on one thing. Like a conversation between his mother and stepfather when he's pretending to watch tv. Like the comment of a psychiatric nurse practitioner when he's pretending to roll around on his chair like a simpleton. Like an innocently dropped response of "we'll see" to one of his million requests that he brings up six days later.
Oh, he's paying attention, all right. Just not to the things you all want him to pay attention to.
Is he gifted? I have no idea. I was considered a "gifted" child, although I didn't especially shine in any particular area (other than the written word, in which category I was always light years ahead of my peers, but that seemed not to matter as much as the fact I couldn't kick a ball). And I can't get anyone to look at him beyond the constant bouncing around and jabbering and aggression to find out.
posted by Mitzi Green at 4:43 PM
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