Archive for November, 2010
Today’s gift: having friends, family, fans nominate my blog on Babble.com! Wow! I humbly and gratefully accept your nominations, your kind words, and all of your support.
If my daily gifts become the impetus for even one reader to find his or her own gifts each day, then I have helped a family feel connected and hopeful.
A fan wrote this,
My friend’s fab blog My So-Called Sensory Life is on Babble’s long list of Best Mom Blogs…Read her blog because every post is wise and funny and touching.
If you want to join the fun, use this link below (then scroll through the blogs alphabetically until you find My So Called Sensory Life — I was nominated twice so add your vote to the one with the most likes please):
I love being liked!
Thank you for reading, following, and of course, unwrapping.
Today’s gift: an unexpected afternoon alone with M.
After a fabulous holiday weekend with family (15 in our home!!!!), M and I were at the kitchen table reading the NYTimes (and a car magazine) when we heard the beautiful silence. Our eyes met and we cheered, “We are alone!” — no dog, no relatives, no sounds, just the two of us.
After soldiering through 4 days of crying babies, barking dogs, screaming toddlers, chatty parents, clanking bottles, alternating blasts of music and movies, the loss (donation) of his bedroom to visiting family, and much more activity in our house than ever before, M was starved for a sensory break.
For children (and adults) with Sensory Integration Disorder like M, the holidays mean something other than fun family time. For the parents of Sensory Children, it means extra prep (social stories, plans, quiet rooms, escape routes) because the unique challenges M faces each day are amplified during the holidays and the usual solutions do not work. This means M will inevitably face tough moments — moments I wish I could take away but because I can’t control the world around us, he has to endure them.
It breaks my heart to see the sensory meltdowns — the terror in his eyes, the pain in his voice, the rigid body, the frightened stance.
This afternoon, though, we had our own private, silent Thanksgiving celebration in honor of M reclaiming his safe place and regaining his sensory peace and those gifts filled us both more than any holiday meal.
We’ve all heard the saying a picture is worth a thousand words.
Picture this: M strutting his stuff, hugest smile EVER, singing every song, doing every move, nailing his solo speaking part, commanding the stage, and finally, bowing so deeply for applause at his school Thanksgiving Show this morning that he nearly fell off the stage and I nearly fell out of my front row seat.
I felt like I was in the audience for Oprah’s Favorite Things Show (except I didn’t need a medic on site). Each moment was better than the next until the Grand Finale — after the show ended M greeted my husband and me exactly the right way (with respect and love), allowed us to walk him to his classroom and then grabbed his snack and went on to have a successful day.
M hit the ball way way out of the park today. Like an overstuffed turkey, I’m busting!
Today’s gift: not traveling for Thanksgiving this year!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Today’s gift was a surprise — it came via a facebook wall post from author and friend Elaine Hall’s Huffington Post blog.
It’s one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen –
M is preparing for his grade’s Thanksgiving Show on Wednesday. He’s full of positive emotions about it: pride, excitement, confidence.
Today he shared every single detail about the show — including his part — and rehearsed the performance with my sister and her husband. He sang every song to relatives, stopping only to explain the meaning and highlight both his and his classmates’ solos.
It was astonishing to witness on so many levels and so I’m expressing my Thanksgiving gratitude a few days early:
- Unlike in the past, M clearly wanted attention about the show and wanted to show off. Thrilling!
- M thought about what he wanted to share in advance and planned a multi-step scenario to tell family members about it — he made us all listen and pay attention to him. He acted calmly and appropriately. Wow!
- The show means so much to him yet he is able to channel his anxiety into excitement about a school performance for the first time ever.
- M’s desire to share with his aunt and uncle was focused and wonderful to watch and he was able to stay on task with cousins and loud noises all around him. Another Wow!
- The show has a magical hold over M — he feels brave and strong and ready to do it. Another first — no real jitters! And I have to think this is because he had a brief stint as a pumpkin for Cinderella. The Impossible is now Possible for my little guy! That is magic.
I’ll leave you with M’s final words from the show,
“And everyone sang a thank you song…”