I was in the car with the kids today, waiting at the bank drive through, when it came up. She had been sitting back there reading her current book of choice, Howl's Moving Castle, but paused to hold it up.
"This isn't really normal, is it."
"What's not normal?"
"Well...kids my age, reading books like this."
Well, then. Here we are.
I've known my daughter is gifted since she was very little. In cool, sober retrospect, it was pretty obvious from around age two.
I hate the term, I hate so much about my gnarled journey trying to figure out if I'm delusional or feeding something in my own ego, I hate that it feels impossible to talk about the increasingly obvious signs that my kid has special needs with homeschooling parents or educators who might have some insight into how to work with her and support her, because yes, intelligence does not appear to be fixed, everyone has gifts and talents, and yes, your kid is smart and weird and wonderful, too, and no, mine isn't riding a bike without training wheels yet and yes, she runs like a dork.
But as much as I've fretted over whether and why and how to seek some friendly aid from folks who might be able to provide a word of camaraderie or advice, I hadn't really thought about how to talk to her about that particular uniqueness. We've never praised her for being "smart." I had no idea up until today that she was aware of any difference between herself and other kids in that regard. But, apparently, at least in the simple terms of a very little girl holding a big fat book, she is. She wasn't proud, she wasn't asking for affirmation, it was just a simple question in the form of a statement.
Is this normal?
I said all that I could think to say:
"No, reading chapter books like that at your age is not really typical."
I didn't tell her about grade level equivalents or Lexile measures, although as her educator I know where she is comfortable (just shy of Pride and Prejudice). She doesn't need to know any of that stuff.
What she does need to know, I think, at some point, is that it's okay to feel weird. And it's okay and real that feeling weird can stem from having a bit more cognitive processing speed and power than is typical (this doesn't mean that most people can't or won't acquire the same or more knowledge or make the same or better connections...and it doesn't hold any special value).
I have no idea what our conversations around this are going to look like. But I guess we're going to have them.
And the best thing I can think of, what I wish I had had when I was coming up and feeling like I was riding a strange and lonely wave, is just to let her know, if she tells me she feels weird, that yes, some people are weird in that way, but that I'm weird just like that, too. And so are other members of her family. And many of our friends. And other kids, too, here and all around the world, that she can connect with, if she likes.
Typical? In certain ways, no. Not at all. Normal? Who is, or was, or ever will be?
Sweet girl, you just have to figure out which freak flag you were born under, and fly it.