Pinwheels are a staple of childhood. They are so simplistic in their design, but seem magical to a toddler. JC was playing with a pinwheel last night, or at least trying to. He knew that blowing on it should make it spin, but it wasn't quite working for him. He couldn't get his mouth puckered the right way to blow a single stream of air. His attempt was more like a heavy breath so the pinwheel wouldn't move. He struggles with mouth movements (which is part of his issue with speech) and only recently successfully "puckered up" for a kiss :)
As the pinwheel sat lifeless, his frustration level started to rise so I sat beside him to help. We both held the stem and we sat face to face with the pinwheel between us. As he would blow his heavy breath, I would secretly blow a directed stream of air to make the pinwheel turn. His eyes lit up with excitement! Once again, he faltered the mouth position and tried his best to blow - as I blew and the pinwheel started to spin he squealed with delight. This continued for quite some time and as I sat there I realized what an amazing moment this was. It wasn't just playtime with a pinwheel, it was a moment when we were both acting as one. I was replacing his breath with mine. I was filling in the blanks where he wasn't able to do so. I was providing a chance for him to succeed where he had previously failed. It was an opportunity to show JC that even those things that frustrate him can be overcome... that by perservering through difficulties magical things can happen. Maybe next time he picks up the pinwheel, I won't be right there using my breath to make it spin, and maybe he will again be frustrated that his efforts are in vain. But then again, maybe he will remember that it CAN be done and he will keep trying. At that moment, I felt that fleeting feeling that I was making the world easier for my little guy. And I wished that every frustration could be eliminated that easily. I would breathe every breath for him, to make his world easier.
Meet JC. He is now 6 years old, full of life, and can light up a room with is smile. He loves legos, youtube and being outside. Unless you have witnessed his meltdowns, tantrums, sensitivities to touch and texture, refusal to eat or difficulty coping in situations of over-stimulation, you may think that he is just like every other child his age. But JC struggles with Autism & Sensory Processing Disorder. Here is our story of how we are learning that he is just perfect in his very own way.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
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aww, that is so sweet! I can so easily picture this scene. Thank you for sharing your son. :-)
ReplyDeleteThanks Julie... Thanks for allowing me to share ;)
DeleteThank you Susan. It was truly one of those moments when you realize how lucky you are to realize how lucky you are ;)
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ReplyDeleteAwww such a sweet story thanks for sharing.
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