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“Is my child normal?” is a question that every parent asks at least once. Most parents ask the question a multitude of times over a multitude of topics. Oh and multiply the number of times you ask the question by the number of children you parent. The hard part about this question is that parents can not usually answer this question without the help of an outside source. We must compare with other parents, check with the pediatrician, search the internet, to find our answers. The outside help is necessary because whether or not the behavior/trait/thing is normal in the general population, it is subjectively normal to the parent and the child. Most of the time the answer to the query is a reassuring “Yes, that is completely normal.” Sometimes the answer is “No.” Then begins a process of learning, accepting, and changing which can range from mild to life-altering.

I remember when I took 2 1/2 year old Link for some developmental assessment tests. I’d scheduled the tests because I had a niggling feeling that his lack of speech was not normal. I’d already done the informal observational poll of other children his age. I really expected to be told that I was worrying over nothing and that Link was fine. Instead I was told that I was right to be concerned. Link had significant developmental delays which needed addressed. Thus began 8 years of working with Link and working with Link’s teachers to make sure that his needs were being addressed. I was very fortunate that at every step those teachers were willing partners rather than adversaries. Some parents have to do battle for their kids. People who meet Link today have no clue that here is a boy who needed extra help, because he no longer does. He isn’t even on medication for ADD anymore. He’s at or above grade level in all his subjects. He’s learning that he has a knack for memorization. He’s friendly and if you get him going on a topic that interests him, he will chatter non-stop. So many of the things that I feared for him have not materialized. He is a happy, normal 10 year old boy. But I don’t think this Link would exist, if we had not gotten a handle on his challenges earlier in his life.

The answer “No, this is not normal” is not a sentence dooming a child to a lifetime of abnormality. It is a call to action. It is often also a relief. It is good to know that you’re not crazy, not just imagining things. It means you can start figuring out exactly what the challenges are and what actions to take going forward. You can start to learn and find ways to cope. The best part is that as the kids get older, they become partners in the process. This is why Link is so normal today. We work together and have formed family habits that help him keep himself on track. He’s only 10, so I’m still actively participating to make sure that tasks get done, but I don’t have to hover the way that I used to. I love having kids who are old enough to think about how they think and then talk to me about it.

Years ago, when I first started writing in this blog, my Dad wisely pointed out to me that whatever I write here becomes history. It becomes permanent in a way that telling the same stories in conversation is not. He recommended to me that I make sure what I write is how I want things to be remembered. It is wise advice. “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all” is also wise advice. Or there is the doctor’s oath to “first do no harm.” I’m not a doctor, but I try to follow it, particularly here on my blog. But then I think of a line from the 2005 version of Mr. and Mrs. Smith. It is where she says “There is this space between us that keeps filling up with all the things we don’t say to each other.” That also feels true and wise. If we never say anything that isn’t nice, we isolate ourselves. If we can’t talk honestly about our negative emotions then we can’t have close relationships.

I struggle with this. There are times when I must speak up and say things that I know will hurt. I try to pick the time and the words carefully do lessen the damage, but I can’t always. Particularly not with the kids. When I’m in an emotionally laden conversation I will construct and discard dozens of sentences for every one that I utter. I try to do the least damage possible because, to me, relationships are far more important than convincing others that I am right. Fortunately I have learned that I can not be a doormat an have healthy relationships, so I’m fully capable of standing up for myself when necessary. Unfortunately sometimes my mind races so fast with the sentence construction and discarding, that I fail to realize that I’ve not said anything at all. My lack of words can feel like a wall of silence to the other person. The good news is that most of the time the other person is Howard, who has already learned of my tendency. He’s learned how to poke me and let me know if he needs a response. I’ve learned to say “I’m trying to find the right words” rather than saying nothing.

All of that is a precursor to me saying that I’m grouchy tonight. I had a very nice day, but the post-dinner hours walloped me hard. Part of me wants to rant about all the specifics of the pile of little things that made me grouchy this evening. But if I rant about specifics, it may get back to people who might feel bad about contributing to my grouchy evening. I doubt any of them read my blog now, but at some future time they might, and the ranting entry will still be here, laying in wait like a piece of broken glass on a beach full of bare feet. Sometimes I think it is a marvel that I blog at all considering all the fretting I do about possible future harm to feelings. I do comment on the behaviors of the kids, but I try to make sure it is in such a way that it will not be hurtful. Besides by the time they read these blogs, they’ll have grown into much different people and they will laugh with me saying “I really did that?” In fact the kids enjoy hearing blog stories from when they were younger. Or so I tell myself. But perhaps I am wrong and then we’re back to broken glass and bare feet.

In the end my real guide is asking myself why I’m posting a certain thing. I need to never post with the intent to hurt or humiliate. Venting is often emotionally necessary, but ranting often stirs up more anger than it resolves. I do rant as part of a venting process, but I try not to record it for history because I don’t want to come back and invoke those same feelings again by re-reading. I want to vent, let go, and move on. Besides there are many ways to vent. I’ve written this whole entry without mentioning a single specific thing that annoyed me this evening, but I feel much better. I’m not sure why that works, but for me it does.

When we achieve tantrums at a rate of 4 or 5 per hour, I know it is time to throw the kids into bed early.

Bedtime revolves around reading. First there is snack time where I read aloud to the kids. We’re just getting into Alcatraz Versus the Evil Librarians by Brandon Sanderson. I can tell that a book is really working for the kids when I glance up and see that all eating has ceased and all four kids have their eyes riveted on me to hear what happens next. I love that feeling. I love trying to make the voices distinct and hearing them laugh when the book is funny. Tonight they protested when I stopped. It is tempting to just keep reading because we’re all having fun, but I have to leave space for the other bedtime reading.

The second iteration of reading is when the kids read to themselves in bed. Link and Gleek are both assigned to do a certain amount of reading each day. Right before sleep has proven to be the best time for this. The kids are attached to this time as well. They object mightily if I try to skip or shorten it. If I did not require lights out, they would keep reading until they were physically unable to keep their eyes open anymore. Link would probably run out of books before that happened. Finding books that appeal to him has been tricky because pages full of small type are still daunting to him. Gleek is undaunted. She reads all sorts of things. Patch doesn’t read yet. Sometimes I have Link read to him. Sometimes I come read to him. Sometimes he just looks at books or plays quietly in bed.

Kiki stays up later than the other kids. Partly this is because she is older, but mostly it is because putting Kiki and Gleek in the same room to fall asleep is just asking for a squabble. Life is much smoother if Gleek is already asleep before Kiki heads to bed. Sometimes Link objects to this unfairness, but his objections have yet to change the way I run things. Kiki did not used to participate in the reading aloud time. But for the last little while she has been just as interested as the other kids. That is the magic of Wee Free Men by Terry Pratchett. I had to do some adapting to read the text aloud. Pratchett is prone to long dialogues without much attribution, but I just sprinkled in a few names to help the kids keep track of who was speaking. It worked well. Now we’re into Alcatraz and Kiki isn’t sitting right at the table as she did for Pratchett, but she’s making sure she can hear. I suspect she’ll be back at the table before the book is over.

With all the reading, and “early” bedtime still ends up being 8:30 or 9 pm. I’m trying to increment that earlier on the theory that the high ratio of tantrums per hour is probably related to insufficient sleep. Also I need to make sure there is a solid after school snack. Low blood sugar is also a tantrum precipitator. Also I need more sleep so that I’m better at addressing the precursors to tantrums so that full fledged tantrums are nipped before they bloom.

The morning scramble was over. I’d taken kids to school, given Patch his first-day-of-kindergarten send off, and returned home. I walked into the house…and it was quiet. No thumping, no yelling, no video game sounds or music, not even the quiet clack of lego bricks. It is amazing how loud silence can be. I frequently crave silence, but in the silence of this morning I was able to see how too much of it would be as oppressive as too much noise. This morning’s silence did not last very long, only until 10:45. I used the time to do accounting an business tasks so that by the time Patch came home I could spend time with him.

I sat with Patch and just listened to his chatter for about 45 minutes. His thoughts about kindergarten were not organized. He just said things as they occurred to him. So I learned random rules, and that there was a kid in his kindergarten class who had the same name as a different kid who’d been in his preschool class. His thoughts wandered all over as he was processing the experiences and trying to internalize the rules. I’d planned to work on reading with him, but realized that his head was already full of new things. He needed to assimilate, not learn more. He ran out of kindergarten thoughts and cookie at about the same time. Then he ran off to play.

Tomorrow will bring with it more silence. I’m glad. I need some silence in my days. The summer had none and I frequently wanted to just flee the house. Some people honestly lament when their little ones go off to school. I’m happy to see them go, because the space of silence allows me to be happy to welcome them back.

Posts like this one are the reason that I love reading Jim Hines’ journal. Like Jim, I’ve noticed prejudices/judgments in my own brain. I try to control them and eliminate them. Jim is braver than I. He doesn’t just quietly try to remove the prejudices from his brain, he kicks those prejudices out in the open where everyone can see his process of examination and elimination. My method of prejudice removal makes me a better person. Jim’s method has the chance to make many people better, because we can all see what he has done and may realize we need to do it ourselves. I recommend you take the time to read Jim’s post and examine his process even if you have no particular feelings about Gaming/Tie-in books.

The first layout pass on Out From Under is done. The book will be in the 80 page range. This is so much shorter than Teraport Wars. The layout went much more quickly and will continue to go quickly. As usual, the biggest tasks are Howard’s. He has some coloring to do, a bonus story, and a cover. But right now he’s working to replace the buffer that he lost because of Comic Con and Worldcon. It just feels good to get the project started. It feels even better to realize that I’m looking forward to seeing this book come together. It is going to be a fun book.