The Ravelled Sleeve

The SP9 moderators have very tactfully reminded me that I have failed to post now for a month, and that I might like to get back on the air.  Has it really been that long? Sorry, LSP!

Early December disappeared in a haze of illness and its consequences, of which the low point was a late night trip to the ER department of the local children’s hospital.  (We’re all doing well now.)

At around the same time, we had a pretty distressing parent-teacher interview at G.’s preschool, at which they suggested we get a developmental assessment done because he was failing playdough.  Obviously, this isn’t a fair representation of the conversation; I’m just sounding off.  I have a good deal of respect both for his teachers, and for the philosophy of the school, which aspires to something considerably higher than a holding pen for the kids of working parents.  I realize they have his best interests at heart, and wanted to make sure he got help, if it was needed, at a point when it could still be useful to him.

I also realize that he doesn’t map neatly onto the developmental milestones of early childhood.  He has been somewhat slow (although always within the range of normal, for whatever that’s worth) in acquiring gross motor skills, and adamantly refuses to use a ride-on toy.  He is unmotivated, to put it mildly, to demonstrate the kind of self-help skills the textbooks think a three year old should have, even though he actually possesses the capacity to do them.  He is not very interested in crafts, and dislikes getting his hands dirty.  He’s also not very interested in his preschool peers, although he’s engaged, sociable and affectionate with a range of older kids and adults from family members to our elderly Italian neighbour.  He can also count to 1000, and to 12 in five other languages, and, at 3 years and some small change, has taught himself to read at a grade 2-3 level. 

I suspect his teachers are afraid that this offbeat mix of qualities might fit somewhere on the autistic spectrum, and if I saw him only at preschool, and if he were less sociable, expressive and spontaneously affectionate — and not so very much the kind of child B. and I once were, albeit brighter – I suppose I might be too.  We were lucky enough, however, to get the chance for a lengthy consultation with a pediatrician over the Christmas break, who gently but firmly rejected the idea that he might have a developmental disorder, so we can take him back to preschool next week feeling reassured on that score.  I think I still need some reassuring from the preschool that his teachers will not see him, and (consciously or unconsciously) treat him, as a problem child, though.

To returning to things fibrous: I was all set at the start of December to blog some WIP shots, including some new Lizard Ridge blocks, and some pictures of projects in contemplation, but they’re still on the computer at home, awaiting some quiet time to upload them to Flickr.  I’m halfway through some toe-up, two-at-a-time socks, which are going well, if laboriously.  And I’ve bought the Kureyon I need to finish Lizard Ridge.