milestones
-
Going beyond self regulation
Now that J’s conquered a lot of these “keeping it together” challenges, I’m starting to see the other challenges that have been eclipsed by the mental and behavioural ones. J doesn’t know how to do things on his own, even when he’s “checked in” and running a good effort. All of his life, he’s had someone beside him telling him what to do or how to push through something and through this season of XC, I’ve seen these problems come to the forefront because he’s managing himself so well on his own.
You May Also Like
Trying to protect my kids’ sanity
A Tale of Two Meets
Fergus Falls and Easter Eggs
-
One year later
This is where we are, one year later. J is into the first five minutes into his first XC race for the season. He’s in a good mood. Minutes before the race I remind him that he needs to run as fast as he can (which I know he doesn’t know what that is yet) to keep up with the pack. Because we all know it’s no fun to start a race from behind. And although he’s near the back of the pack, seconds after the gun goes off, he’s not trailing the pack like he has done every other race he’s run. He sticks with the pack, and as…
-
A North American citizen
It’s been really interesting being around J lately. We’ve spent an entire, intensive month relearning how to “read.” In a lot of ways, it’s like watching a baby or toddler discover things for the first time–there’s this genuine thrill of discovering something new. And it’s as if everything is new–like alien from a different planet discovering earth type of new. It’s thrilling and demoralizing at the same time (because I feel like we’re THAT far behind again when I realize how much he hasn’t picked up the “first time around”). Reading is really the impetus for this discovery experience. The way we’ve been reteaching J how to read requires him…
-
Without the song and dance
I’m not going to lie. I’m sort of loving the fact that my kids are out of the whole “Holiday Spectacular” phase. When my kids were littles, I thought that I’d be heartbroken when the Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, Leprechaun phase (okay, maybe not the Leprechaun thing–I still don’t quite get why that’s such a big deal here, it wasn’t anything I grew up with) was over. But I’m not heart broken at all. In fact, I have this overwhelming sense of relief. Not to say that holidays aren’t still stressful for me. They are. But reduced amounts of holiday fanfare are helpful. I think it’s because I feel like…
-
One year later
One year later and here we are again, the first track meet of the season! I was a hot, anxious mess at last year’s first meet. We had tried in every single way to prepare J for his first race. From the sound of the gun, to practicing a few times on the track, to schedule strategies we had thought of everything. And still, I wasn’t sure we were going to make it through that first track meet. J was a ball of anxiety himself that first meet. And not everything went exactly as planned (the gun didn’t go off TWICE!). But J made it. He ran the entire race,…
-
The Academy
When J was almost 4, Steve and I decided we’d sign him up for an “All Sports” class. It was a class through the Lawrence, Kansas park district that let young kiddos try out “all the sports.” At that point, we knew J had developmental issues. He was in early intervention, receiving speech and OT, we knew he was on the spectrum, we were just on waiting lists with developmental pediatricians, pediatric neurologists, and the like to find out exactly where. That first session we lead J into a carpeted common room there were multiple stations scattered all around. I don’t remember all of them, to be honest. I remember…
-
Hanging up the cape
I was trying to figure out the best way to break the news to J that this would be his last year trick-or-treating. I know J would be crushed about it, because, as I mentioned last year, it’s only been about three years since the whole trick-or-treating thing has worked out in his brain for him. Where the anxiety and social struggles finally settled to a point where he could function enough to let some stranger’s dog jump up at the glass door and bark its head off at him, to get the words “trick-or-treat” out, wait 30-60 seconds for someone to fish around in a candy bowl to come up with a…
-
The unexpected things
Monday night I found myself in negotiations with J over something in a million years I never thought I’d be negotiating over. Two weeks ago, I had plans to drive up to Winnipeg and go to lunch with a friend from high school, but we had to change plans last second so we decided try again for Tuesday. Steve and I had it all planned out–he was going to be on call for the kids all day and take care of W’s piano lesson, morning/after school pickup, and homework so I could leave around 9 am and come back whenever I wanted to later that night. I really needed to…
-
The Lindenwood meet
When friends or family ask me who’s going to be J’s running partner for the next meet, my answer is, “I don’t know.” I don’t have an answer for them because I try not to drive the coaches too crazy with too many J centred-questions, and thankfully they take my “helicopter mom” persona in stride (I really try hard to keep out of their hair). Each workout and each meet they have been pushing J toward a little more independence and my gut feeling is they really don’t want to set up a runner for him every meet. They had a runner for J in the beginning, but they’ve expressed to me…
-
Where we are now
A few weeks ago, J was getting his vitals measured by the nurse at Dr. R’s office and she announced: “He’s 5′ 4 1/2.” What? I thought. That can’t be right. I’m 5′ 4 1/2″. And then I realized that the nurse had let J keep his shoes on for his height measurement, because J was wearing his AFOs (ankle foot orthosis) and it’s always a hassle to take the AFOs and shoes off and then put them all back on again for a 60 second measurement. But still, J’s shoes plus AFOs probably add only an inch MAX to his height. For the rest of the day I couldn’t help but realize…
