As a child I liked to be different. Ordinary was dull. I was really happy to come from a family of multiple surnames, when that was far from the norm. (My mother was quick to tell people she had been widowed, rather than divorced). I could say I had four grandmothers, through the various permutations. In my eyes it stopped me from being ordinary.
In 1989 I gave birth to Jonathan. It was a challenging delivery but at the end we were so happy he seemed fine. In some ways he really was. But he sure as heck wasn’t ordinary. And if our family was ever ordinary (which I doubt), it stopped being ordinary that day.
In our family we use the word “ordinary” for people who don’t have special needs. We prefer it to “normal”. Sometimes we have wished that our life were a little more ordinary,when the challenges of raising our children became overwhelming. But it isn’t.
This blog is about our life with Jonathan. I could call it “living with an alien”, which is what Jonathan’s grandfather suggested it was like. Or I could refer to Jonathan’s autism, blindness and prodigious musical talent on the piano, and call it “Savant life”. But I like “Never Ordinary” because of the positive spin it puts on things. “Never Ordinary” is good.