Miss Smarty Pants

This is a hard entry to make because what follows makes me sound shallow. I probably can't deny that because I have never been an introspective person. I've always thought it was pointless: when I discover something bad about myself I probably won't succeed in changing it and if its good I'm afraid I'll mess it up. Better to move along in my insecure ignorance- everybody's happy! But (there's always one isn't there) having a child, especially one with special needs, changes that.

Now I'm stuck dissecting every motive and decision- who makes up these rules? 

As I mentioned in a previous blog I didn't exactly excel at sports (okay be kind people)  but I was born with a quick mind and a good memory - which is all that intelligence really is. Straight A's came easily to me...despite skipping more days of high school than I attended. It has been very hard for me to reconcile being in Mensa -which worships intellect- with my son's problems. Perhaps I have taken too much pride in I.Q. And I know that tests are subjective, not everyone is good at taking them. Dakota's tests put him just a few points above retarded, but when I see him using his great imagination and finding new ways to work around his limitations, I realize intelligence just can't be measured. He's smarter than I am because he never worries about proving it.