A while back I was talking with one of my friends about my son's difficulties in school, and I said that he was just a square peg trying to fit into a round hole.
"No," she said, "he's a unique, spiky, star-shaped peg trying to fit into a round hole."
That's not a bad comparison. He's not a square kid, where if you sand off the corners he could be jammed into a regular education program reasonably well. We've been trying that approach. He's a kid that would require significant alterations to fit into that space we designate as "normal."
For the name of this blog, though, I chose "rhombus" for two reasons. One, I liked the alliteration* of "rhombus" and "round." But the other, bigger reason is that when my son was in K4 he came home with a worksheet he had done about shapes. I was talking to him about the shapes, and I pointed out the diamond.
"That's not a diamond," he said impatiently, "that's a rhombus."
Well, pin a rose on your nose, boy. Back in my day we called it a diamond.
For a long time after that I had a sort of a mental block about the rhombus. For the life of me, I couldn't remember what shape it was. My son was so exasperated with me. It wasn't the first time he knew something that I didn't - his tool phase and dinosaur phase took care of that - but for some reason, it really bothered me. I suppose that's because I pride myself on maintaining at least an early-elementary level of mathematical ability, and this was proving me wrong.
Anyway, it suits him. Although I hope that eventually we get to the point where he's able to settle into a space that's better shaped to fit his needs.
* alliteration is one of my older daughter's favorite terms right now. She thought they called it "alliteration" because "that one sound is littered through the whole sentence." So cute.