Slow Parenting

There is a trend happening as the pendulum swings back from hyper-involvement, over-scheduling, “helicopter” parenting to a slower paced, less hands on, over-scheduling, “helicopter” parenting to a slower paced, less hands on, free-wheeling type. As a parent of a hypersensitive SPD child, we’re getting slow parenting down to a science. Simon can usually only handle one thing a day. One trip the park and the rest of the day at home. Morning at home, lunch with a friend, rest of the day at home. Recently I was hoping to have dinner out with the three of us, but Simon had his play/therapy/early intervention appointment at Swap that day. We had dinner at home.

We’ve learned the hard, meltdown way that we just can’t take him from one event or place to another. Sometimes if he has a good diet and a quiet time that’s actually quiet, he can manage something new afterwards. But only sometimes. It’s an adjustment, though I never thought of myself as a very active, out of the house type of person, when you can’t go grocery shopping because you were playing with friends in the morning, you  realize how much you actually do in a day. It’s disappointing at times, to skip out on something you want to do because your little one can’t take it, but in some ways I appreciate it. We enjoy spending time playing board games, watching Simon watch the wheels spin as he pulls his trains, or spelling words on the old laptop. Needing to stay home for the well-being of your son is a good motivator, it keeps us close, slow, and cozy. I don’t want him isolated, of course, and he needs to be gently prodded at times. But as the super-genius developmental pediatrician presented, even if a child can grow out their sensory issues, if they are not dealt with well, it leave behind anxiety, sometimes anxiety disorder.

So we rest at home after a morning out, or spend a morning out when the afternoon will takes us out the home, and while sometimes I have to miss out on something, I love those times we have at home. 

The Sweetness of SPD

Simon’s smile is incredible as he stares, mooney-eyed, at his new toy cat. It’s called Soft Kitty and he loves that. When the evaluators asked him to explain how the ladybug in a picture feels (looking for an emotion) he gladly, sweetly, says that it feels soft. How is your blanket? we ask him. Soft, he replies, his voice quiet and gentle. “Ahhhhhhh,” he says, “ohhhhhh,” as he snuggles his kitty, burrows into his eight blankets, or puts on new sweatpants. He wants to read books by the cozy fire, read books by his cozy bed, and have a cozy family snuggle. This boy loves soft things with a gentle passion.

Simon likes everything to be happy. He plugs his ears when a character in a story is distressed. The faces he draws with his wobbly grip are all happy faces, regardless of the expression they seem to take. When a person is hurt or a child cries, he finds us and frets until all is well again.

I never thought I’d see a kid be thankful about getting a new pack of diapers, but one evening when I brought some home, he said, “oh thank you mommy,” and he meant it deeply. He is grateful when we fill his water cup, when we play with him, and when someone sends him a card. He asked me recently if I would play in his room with him, and when I answered that I would after finishing my food, he said, “oh thank you mommy, you’re the best mommy in the all the world.” I would have played with Simon until midnight after that. He tells me he loves me and this morning even said he always loves me. He enjoys getting us things and is proud to tell me when I get home from work that they made dinner for me.

Personality doesn’t stem only from sensory issues, of course, but I do know that sensitivity transfers to emotional sensitivity, at least in my son and I. When not in the midst of anxiety or a meltdown, he is tender, caring, and loving. I would never wish SPD on my son, but I would never want to lose his sweetness and the depth of good feeling he gets from positive sensory input. Life without SPD might be a lot easier, but life with SPD can be very rich, meaningful, and sweet. 

A challenging development

We're having a tough week. I have several bruises, a headache, and a sore nose from Simon's outbursts. The stack of books on top of our dryer is teetering, he's had so many removed after throwing them at me. Our ears have been ringing from screeching, door slamming, and shouting.

It's not entirely clear why he is so on edge right now, but it may be at least partly related to new mental development. He's been reading more, and trying to read new words he hasn't memorized. He did pronounce cedar as keh-dar, but I was still really impressed. He's been using his trains to add and subtract, counting, coupling, and uncoupling, and staring to know that ten minus four is six, without needing to count. I've seen him read a whole book that he'd never seen before, and read it all correctly.

He's had a few bursts of social development, asking me to wear bear ears while we were playing, and miracle of miracles, he really, truly played with another kid. I didn't get to see it, but bob told me about the conversation he had with a girl at Swap n play. They talked about trains and buffers, played with trains together, and headed to the big kid room, Simon responding to her question about where his mom was with, "she works every day, but daddy stays home with me." not only an answer to her question, but additional information not asked for.

But then, he's also been repeating the same script from a Thomas story every time he plays with his trains at home, his little mind locked in to an infinite loop of cars uncoupling and running an engine off the rails. He's been shouting at us to be quiet when we compliment him, pounding his fist on us when we won't give him what he wants, and slamming himself on doors and us for reasons unclear.

Without knowing why he's losing his mind, except that big developmental leaps always mess with the poor kid, it's hard to know what to do to help. We can do what we can to manage the issues, sticking to a schedule, keeping noises down, lots of protein, lots of sleep or rest time, intentional music, and heavy work, and hope that this will help him regulate until things improve. It's hard though, not being able to fix it. We're tired and battered, and are out of space for confiscated toys.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

The way I smell the world

It smells like soap until four steps away from the bathroom door. Cooked dust takes over. Another few steps, old diaper. Simon hasn't been changed yet this morning. These bagels always smell a little like fish as they're toasting. The clothes are clean, the laundry room doesn't smell like moist cloth anymore, now it smells like dirty concrete. Coffee. Sweat. Earwax. Earwax? I need a q-tip.

On my way to the bustop, it's cold and clear, it smells like leaves. It's lovely. Around the corner, and it's gasoline. I pass the man who I see every morning, try not to inhale as I pass. His cologne is strong, I smell it all along the sidewalk he walked on.

Old smoke on the bus, apple scented shampoo, or hairspray. Powdered make up. A dusty paperback. Someone needs to wash the food and sweat out of their jacket.

This - this is only one of the external senses in about fifteen minutes of my day. Most people either can't smell some of these things, or the smell registers with their nervous system below awareness, is disregarded, and never noticed. Young kids with SPD experience this but don't understand it, don't know how it affects their level of stress, of awareness, of irritability, their focus, or appetite.

Touch and sound have always seemed to be the biggest problems for myself and Simon, but as I learn more about SPD and focus more on how we get through each day, I've seen that smells have a huge impact as well. It makes sense, smell affects taste and memory in strong ways for everyone, SPD or not, why wouldn't impact our sensory selves as well? If nothing else, it would still be exhausting to smell, register, and try to manually dismiss every one of these smells. Smell is not an unknown sense like vestibular, proprioceptive, and interocpetion, but it may be a forgotten or overlooked sense in terms of the affect it has on ourselves and our SPD Kids.

Simon's Perfect Day

Simon was brilliant yesterday. He woke up after a long night of sleep in a good mood. As I was getting ready for work he said "mommy, do you know what? I love you." He gave me a hug. He thanked me sincerely for changing his diaper. At work I got a fabulous chat from Bob: Simon was playing with a girl at swap. He was having a conversation with her about trains, about me being at work, and then they sat down in the library and read a book together. This, folks, is nearly miraculous. Bob said he was great all day. 

I got home from work and was racing around the outside of the house, telling us how his body needed a rest, and running again. He got his water when he was thirsty and ran again when he was ready. He was in tune and taking care of his own body. 

We had a family hug, and he leaned in close to us both then voluntarily, unasked, kissed us both. Later on we were roughhousing and I forced him to let me kiss his cheeks. He didn't tell me to stop, just giggled, and then kissed my arms and cheeks.On his own motivation. 

After dinner, he cleaned up with not even a single whine, and under his own direction. At bathtime, he put his ears in the water, getting part of his hair and face wet. I wrapped him tightly in his towel and he sat, compressed, in front of the fire for a long while before he asked for a book to read. 

I tucked Simon in under all eight of his blankets, and instead of shoving my face away, he gently asked me not to kiss him, and told me it scared him when I kissed him while he's laying down. Simon understood and explained his sensory defensiveness to a calm way. I turned off the lights and closed his door, and he was asleep in minutes. 

This, on the heels of halloween, after switching OTs and missing an appointment. This is what we're working for, these perfectly normal days. Of course it won't be like this every day, or maybe even often, and wouldn't without any sensory issues, but when things are especially hard, or I really don't want to put on my exaggerated happy face to get him to pick up a train, it will be good to remember that we're making progress, that sometimes, we'll have a really good day.