I’m not a twit just because I’m blonde, even if I occasionally have blonde moments. True, I don’t always communicate verbally/orally as well as I would like. Yes, I get tongue-tied and say dumb things on occasion, but it doesn’t make me vapidly void of intelligence. Sometimes I just honestly have too much running around in my brain and it dumps out of my mouth in a kind of word vomit that doesn’t always make the same modicum of sense as in my head. I prefer writing so I can take the time to think through the best words possible and so they don’t come out in a bunch of gobbledygook. Yet day after day, I put myself out there in the wide world of oral communication in front of the harshest of audiences…and sometimes I probably sound like I don’t know what I’m talking about. There’s a light in the attic, I promise, but sometimes it has a hard time making it down through the rest of the house.
While I’m dispelling the dumb blonde myth, I might as well tackle the misconception that women who choose to stay home with their children have jelly for brains. I’ll admit that there were a few years when I wondered if I’d ever have another educated conversation. I’m sure a few brain cells committed suicide as I pondered things like why Blue the puppy couldn’t speak English, but the side table drawer could? And, really, since when do salt and pepper make paprika? Or cinnamon for that matter? I’ve come a long way since Nick Jr. but then again, I’m reading a world famous adolescent book series for the third time…go figure. While these moments may have very well made my brain turn to mush, fighting the less than pleasant battle of raising a child with a brain injury and resulting learning disabilities has probably made me smarter. You simply cannot advocate for a child in the world of pediatric neurology without knowing some serious terminology. Yes, I’ve been known to use the analogy of the basal ganglia being like the “peach pit” of the brain, but I can also tell you a mind-numbing amount of facts about all the different lobes and what they control. I’ve read medical school textbooks borrowed from friends, and neurology journals. When I didn’t get the answers that made sense from our doctors I searched high and low and finally found them in a study done in Germany and published in an abstract that was like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack. This school year I am writing my own curriculum to help my dyslexic son become not just an average writer, but a critically thinking writer prepared for the rigors of middle school, high school, and college. Being a mom has hands down been some of the best education I could have ever paid for and it’s taught me how to specialize in some very odd fields.
I’m not afraid to admit I don’t know everything, but don’t call me dumb. Only fools think they have nothing left to learn. Good teachers admit that sometimes they learn more from their students than they give away. So keep telling the jokes…but be careful not to judge every blonde book by her cover.
