Just watched Phoebe in Wonderland on Netflix and wanted to recommend it. I love the way it handled mental disorder and unschooling themes (the unschooling theme may have been entirely inadvertent). Oh, there was even a mother guilt theme, another of my favorites.
In other news, I’ve practically dropped out of the bloggysphere. I keep thinking I’ll jump back in, but so far it hasn’t happened. I really can’t explain it at all. I did have an idea for a blog, but I’ve been lazy. Sigh.
From writer John Elder Robison, about his son:
Cubbys Day in Court
You left high school because you didn’t have any friends, didn’t you! The prosecutor shouted baseless accusations at Cubby, her face twisted in a venomous mask. What was wrong with her, I wondered? Cubby answered calmly. No, he said. I left because I was bored with the classes. I have lots of friends. I wanted to take college courses. Behind him, the court was packed with his supporters who gave silent lie to her words.
I think I have a concept for a new blog. I think. I just wanted to let you know it’s simmering…
Today has been one of those amazing days when everything just falls into place perfectly.
It all started as I was lying in bed and I suddenly remembered today was the day Taz was to try out a new daycare at the place where he does OT. I jumped out of bed and went into hyper-focus mode. I got us ready and out the door in 20 minutes without a hitch. That in itself was enough to make me feel powerful and competent.
Taz adored the program. It is very expensive since a speech therapist (sometimes two) is the teacher, and there are only three students, but it seemed close to ideal for him so I may have to find a way to justify the cost.
I stayed in the lobby for the three hours he was there. I read in the lobby for three hours. I cannot remember the last time (or if I have ever) read for three hours. It was luxurious. It’s hard to put a price on uninterrupted reading time.
Afterward, Taz and I went to lunch and then to the park. We stayed at the park for another three hours and while we were there we made friends with a boy Taz’s age and his dad, who were from Mexico (Guanajuato). The dad and I chatted about natural remedies and healthy eating almost the whole time, while the boys had lots of fun being four year olds.
I noticed something interesting during my interactions with the dad. I was not my self-conscious, awkward, confused self nearly as much as I would be with a local mom I just met at the park. I don’t know if it was because he was a man, or if it was because he was from a far away place, or if it was because English was his second language, or what, but I felt very at ease, almost like my idiosyncrasies were more acceptable somehow. The language/cultural/gender barriers were like permission to be a weirdo. It was like the “I’m not like you” thing was so obvious that it could be disregarded. Or something.
And of course, it helped to be talking with someone who happened to share a special interest of mine and obviously enjoyed talking about it indefinitely.
After the park we came home and Taz joined Jay in the garage to work on the kaleidoscope they’re building. I shut myself in my office and relaxed.
At bedtime I was filled with compassion. I was able to actively listen to Taz’s frustrations about going to sleep. I felt connected and accepting.
One of the things I’m working on in the “self-improvement” realm is the acceptance of aspects of my self that I have repressed or disowned. Ultimately I’m hoping that doing this will allow me to be more accepting of others as well. I feel like I succeeded today and was able to remain open and compassionate toward everyone around me as well as myself, and that felt really good.
…up at Hopeful Parents.
Oh, and sorry about the missing archives. I wanted to reorganize a bit. Stay tuned.