Mother of a Genius
When my son was fourteen months old, he had a vocabulary of well over 200 words and talked in complete sentences. At 18 months old, he knew the whole alphabet, could draw pictures like a five year old, and could recite the name of pretty much any dinosaur that roamed the earth. I was the very proud mother of a genius.
Over the next few years, he continued to excel beyond his years in almost everything. When he was four, I decided that he must be enrolled in French Immersion school because he was just too smart for an English school.
About halfway through his first year, the teacher called and asked me to come in to talk with herself and a learning disabilities counselor. At first, I thought she must have the wrong mom because my boy was brilliant and certainly couldn’t have a learning disability. To humor them, I went to the meeting, where they informed me that my son had been struggling with his reading and numbers.
The teacher had immediately noticed dyslexic symptoms, and decided to administer a dyslexia test on him. They were found to be positive.
At first, I was completely mortified. But when I noticed how quickly he progressed after the diagnosis and with the help he needed, I was proud to change my title to the mother of a dyslexic genius.
