Enough to Miss Christmas

It feels strange to be so totally immersed in a life that has only existed four short weeks. I feel I've always been a part of this family, this group of three that I love more than I've ever thought possible. I find myself searching my memory for a time that I didn't know them, wasn't aware of the sweet smell of little Timmy after his bath, the softness of Karen's hair when she, albeit reluctantly, lets me give her a hug, and the warmth of Paul next to me in the deep stillness of the night. Only months ago I didn't know these people were alive yet they have become an integral a part of my total life. I can't imagine an existence without them.

Our new home began as a collection of unpacked boxes and newly delivered furnishings. Everything was awaiting a permanent location amid the tang of varnish and fresh smelling paint. Since then we're accomplished much as a family. Both children are in advanced-for-their-age swimming . . . they learned as toddlers in their own pool . . . and Karen has signed on to join a soccer team in the coming weeks. Though she never played the game as a team sport, she is adept at handling the ball; a part of her gym regimen at home.

I visited the school with the children and they were assigned to their proper grade level come September. This placement is in spite of both testing much higher. The principal suggested high school when Karen answered her favorite subjects were Latin and mid-eighteenth century American literature! I protested for social, not academic reasons.

I asked her teacher if they tested for basic IQ, but she said the examination occurred in the late fall. I could hardly wait. I knew Karen would test off the charts. Here was this truly brilliant and sometimes manipulative child assigned to my care. What an awesome and thrilling experience I had before me!

We both welcomed her attendance at summer school, three days a week. It allowed Karen to adjust to the company of others in a learning environment. While most would consider vacation time schooling a dreaded chore, Karen relished it. At my nudging she is fitting in well. By all accounts she does not flaunting her far superior knowledge. If I thought Karen's social limitations would subject her to constant ragging from that historically cruel tribe of humans known as pre-teens, I was wrong. Karen possesses natural reticence, an ability to keep her mouth shut until she has something to say, totally unlike her newly appointed mother. This personality trait holds her in a good stead with her new friends. She is quickly and eagerly learning about their world and is being readily accepted into it.