Sorrow and being a Roundy in a world full of Squarys

My dear Red Bird.

In some ways I am relieved. To have a name for this feeling, I know, has in itself offered you some kind of relief too. It is the saddest thing I have ever heard of however, chronic sorrow, like a shadow that on the sunniest days is at it's strongest showing you life isn't 'normal' and on the darkest days it gets to sit back and watch, after all they are your dark days and the darkness is taking care of business. I followed your link and read all the info and it struck me that the biggest suggested cause for chronic sorrow was the realization that your child wasn't 'normal', that they don't fit in with all the other children who by all accounts are 'normal' and that perhaps this is some failing on the part of the parent. So here we are again back at the 'normal' thing. Of course my dear friend, we both know there is no such thing as normal. There is the majority, but I would argue that we have become confused between majority rule, and majority right. Just because the majority agree doesn't make the minorities views any less valid.
When I was little I had a book by Roger Hargreaves called 'I'm a Roundy. You're a Squary'. It had the most profound impact on my life. I've mentioned before in this blog that I was always very different from my family and for the longest time I always thought that there was something wrong with me. Reading this funny little book opened my eyes to the fact that I was just different and different doesn't mean wrong. It took walking away from 'normal' for me to see just how abnormal 'normal' is. I grieve over the years wasted in the school system. Not because I am anti-school, but because it isn't good enough, never will be, never has been, not for my boy and his weird and wonderful brain!  So why did we settle? When we talked over Christmas you mentioned how things were a bit easier this year with Fledgeling because you had kept it low key; she got to stay in her jammies all day.  This really struck me. Why do we try and act a certain way (dress up for Christmas for example) when it may cause negativity, I mean we all do it, always terrified of anarchy I suppose.
We walked away from normal, we let our 'different' child show us the way and he taught us how he needs the world to spin to thrive. We released him of all standard obligations, school, activities, social relationships and watched and listened. We have seen him relax (he rarely chews gum anymore, although his bedding is often holey!) gain confidence in his strengths and socially excel. We went for Dim Sum with our friend and neighbour, a Chinatown native who treated us to the full Dim Sum experience in one of the oldest restaurants in the oldest Chinatown in Canada. The Boy joined in the conversation, asked questions and actually seemed relaxed. This was not possible when we lived life 'normally'. The world expected him to fit a certain mould and it all but crushed him.
My point, I think, is to embrace what you can in your quirky life with Fledgling. Don't feel the need to make yourselves fit into the world, make your world fit around you. If you need a day to run around the forest screaming together, run around the forest and scream. If you need a day to connect and have fun because she's happy and you're happy, play hookie from school and do what you need to do. It's hard sometimes to remember that there are many ways to reach your destination, we are programmed to believe that we must all travel the same road. This feeling of loss and sorrow, guilt and hesitation, I will argue comes from this pressure we put on ourselves to be 'normal'. We try to 'fix' them, not because we want them to change but because we desperately want to take away their pain and hardship, but we can't dear Birdie, and we know that really. The difficult days just are and we have to plow through them more regularly than we want but I challenge you to face each of them with a bag of silver linings by your side and always be on the look out for a moment to hook one on. Writing down all the positives, all the accomplishments, all the times you laugh  and reminding yourself of those moments often, while drawing a line under the bad. They have happened and are over, you are done with them. This reminds me of something that happened today, oh and many times before. While struggling with a writing assignment, all I heard from the Boy was 'I can't write well, I'm bad at writing' and I thought how many times have you heard that in your life, how many times has a teacher or a friend told you that you aren't good enough at A, B or C. How many times do we file a complaint, or badmouth a business or whine at the tardiness of a delivery compared to telling someone they did a great job. A human quality to focus on the negative, a shame we've forgotten how to distinguish between when it helps and when it hinders.
As for the guilt, well, let's be honest, our children are a full time job. If they are not directly needing our attention, we are planning and researching the next step, always trying to be one step ahead of the 'game'. I am rarely on my own, the Boy is always by my side, I mean come on, really, he's almost 15, when is this going to end? That doesn't mean I don't love him, I refuse to feel guilty for needing him to just let go every now and then. I think that's perfectly healthy. I suspect there are times when he wishes I would just back off too as I'm sure Fledgling does with you. So no, no guilt Red Bird, these feeling are healthy and must be addressed or we are useless.
As for regret, well I could tell you there are many things I regret, but what use does that do me? I do not own a time machine, I only have control over the present, I can't change what's past. So the only thing we can do is make every moment count. I suck at this by the way, big time, procrastination being my middle name, but it is a philosophy I'm trying hard to live by. When you feel fatigued and sorrowful, angry or at a loss, acknowledge it and deal with it. As you know from your Farm Boy incident, you can't keep emotion under lock and key. It will find a way out and when it does it will burst out right in the middle of a grocery store, just to teach you a lesson!
I hope dear heart that knowing what it is you feel and why you performed such a wonderful one woman show of 'Madness at the Grocery Store', you have found a little peace. I know my extremely long winded over simplistic ramble above is more theory than practicality, but we can only try and muddle together our own rule books to help guide us through our very individual lives, perhaps we should call it 'The Ever Flexible Unrule Book for living with the Most Extraordinary Children'. Doing the best you can is ALWAYS good enough, don't ever think otherwise.

Always Yours
Sparrow