#2 has not-so-great social skills due to his symptoms of Asperger’s Syndrome. (No official diagnosis yet, which we’re working on, but, according to his ADHD doctor at Vanderbilt, suggests that) Adults and teenagers think he is just the coolest, most interesting kid, but, the other kids don’t quite know what to make of him.
He told me this morning that some girl named Rachel said he was a "freak" to which I told him…"For one, Rachel is in the third grade. What does she know about freaks?" (to which he said, "no, she’s in 4th grade") Still, what do fourth grade girls know about freaks? Exactly…nothing. I know some freaks. #2 is not a freak.
Furthermore, I told him, he is ten times more interesting than Rachel will ever be. Someday, Rachel will be bragging to her co-workers that she went to school with #2. He will run into her somewhere and Rachel will be all over him and he will have the option to diss her and embarass her, which I hope he does.
I’m not going to make him ride the bus anymore. As long as I’m at home, not working, I can take him and pick him up. Still, I wish I could get on that bus and eat those mean, little shit kids who are mean to my baby (who has the sweetest attitude and would never hurt anybody’s feelings for anything), for lunch. They just don’t know yet that they are in the company of a little genius who could someday be like a Robin Williams, Jim Carey or Garth Brooks. They don’t see it now, but, they will someday.
This is the part of parenting I hate. I know it’s character building for him. Still, I’m not going to force him to endure relentless picking and teasing on the schoolbus everyday. I wish all y’all could know how fantastic he is. He really is great.