As a dyslexic who is renowned for appalling spelling it’s a weird reality when you find yourself doing spellings with the secret genius.
There is something joyful when he comments that “it’s easy. I can just swap the endings.”
And of course his spellings are more important. With nuclear war I’ll be dead so nothing matters then.
So we were sitting in maths learning about shapes: quadrilateral; hexagon; octagon; decagon. And the standard question is asked…
If Oct is 8 then what about October?
December is the 12th month, that’s just stupid.
And so you explain…
September- Sept 7
October – Oct 8 (like an octopus has eight legs)
November – 9
December – Dec 10 (decimals go up in 10’s)
Because there were 10 months, then Julius Ceaser and Augustus Ceaser put in two more months in the summer so everything got pushed back.
It always frustrates me that I can never remember the reason behind April, May and June when the others seem so lodged in my head.
Sitting on the floor building Lego, with a five year old is my warped idea of bliss. Working together as equals. There is some thing beautifully leveling about am instruction manual that an adult can read as easily as a child.
Yes I may have more patience, and more practice, but it’s a joy to work together and see him working independently yet coming together to complete a common goal.
The last day of term => Christmas nibbles.
Then heading to my best friends boyfriends house… Christmas baking.
Then scouts Christmas party.
But nothing really says Christmas like the small child feeling ill and throwing up on you!
Or the Christmas card from the smallest, the one written because he wanted to, not one his mother had to force him to write – because a card voluntarily written by the dyslexic child is rarer than gold dust.