I can’t even spell Dysleksia

Where to start.

I guess I will start with this photo. This is 13 minutes after I told him things that I thought were going to be the equivalent of ripping out his little heart, stomping on his soul and feeding it to the wolves.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What words you ask?

“Yup, buddy, you have to move to a different school.”

We knew there was something amiss last year. So we pushed the school. Then we pushed a little harder and dug a little deeper. Within the pushing and the digging I hoped the path would become clear. Where the path would lead, I had no idea. I simply trusted that those we had met with and those we sought help from would help us figure out the puzzle.

The path finally became crystal clear. KP is severely Dyslexic and an immersion school setting is close to the worst possible setting for him.

With THAT bit of clarity comes action. Action that has been swift and will change the corse of things.

No one ever said parenting was going to be easy. No one ever said the path would always be clear. As much as I want it to be, it’s not. As much as I want a parenting manual, no one would be silly enough to print one.

The agonizing over what the best possible choice for your child is, is hard at best. As a parent, I don’t want to misstep. Oh I will but I don’t want to. I don’t want to cause unease, pain or hardship. But in this instance, pain, change, being scared and having to be open to what the roller coster has in store is what is going on.

Strap on that seatbelt buddy, hold my hand….we will do it together.

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