I think I’ve always struggled with anxiety on some level, but it has really reared its ugly head the last few years as we’ve ramped up our sensory processing journey. Having so many unpredictable elements in our lives has given my anxiety a serious platform. And to be honest, the Back-to-School rigmarole has brought it to an entirely new level with the pandemic adding a layer of complexity and conflict unlike most others. I’m fearful of sending both kids because of the health risks, but I know they desperately need the socialization. We can’t get Max to keep anything on his face for longer than 2 seconds because of his sensory needs so I’m worried about him being unprotected. He’s non-verbal (although communicates well with a device) so I’m terrified of sending him into a building without one of us even though I know he’ll be in amazing hands and will benefit from being around same-aged peers. Gah… so many heavy things.
There’s no doubt in my mind that Fletcher has some underlying anxiety as well which is usually managed by physical activity, visual schedules and working hard to over prepare him for what’s coming next. Even more difficult than anxiety for him, however, is anticipation. It’s that ambiguous feeling that is difficult to put into words and has us living life in the yellow zone (for all you Zones of Regulation folks!) for days on end. He is literally bouncing off the walls and it seems like no amount of physical activity or heavy work can even come close to bringing him down a few pegs. He’s such a mix of emotions – excited to see his buddies, nervous to meet his new teacher, super pumped about gym class, a little leery of being away from home for so long each day (7 hours to be exact, he’ll tell you!) and scared about the delta variant.
Today was a particularly challenging day as it related to managing his energy. He’s my consistent sensory seeker and he was in constant motion. At any given moment he was stomping, jumping, twirling, swimming, whistling, doing cartwheels or endlessly crashing. He couldn’t get enough.
So when we were calming down before bedtime and he was doing flips from his bed to his brother’s I knew our nightly routine would need a little tweaking. I asked him how his body felt and he replied with “Yellow, Mom. I just have so much energy!” What an unsettling feeling for a little body like his!
I asked him to lay down on his bed and take several big belly breaths. He twirled his stuffed beluga whale while he did it. I watched as the whale’s movements got a little slower and asked if he was ready for our marble mindfulness game. He settled in and I asked him to envision a marble on top of his head. When we do this, he gets to tell me how big it is and what colors are on it. Tonight it was giant and had a mix of five colors – silver, gold, red, blue and green.
I had him close his eyes and picture where the marble was on the outside of his body as I said the words. “The marble is traveling slowly from your forehead down to your nose. Now over to your right ear, down to your mouth and under your chin. Feel the marble going down your chest to your belly, etc. until it gets to his toes. Typically if he is needing more mindfulness after that, I’ll do the same thing but change sides of his body, or have the marble go under his feet and make its way back up to his head.
Tonight, Max was out of sorts, too. So as I was saying this out loud for Fletcher, I gave Max deep pressure on that part of his body. His head, elbows, shoulders, knees, and feet all got big squeezes as he was winding down and he leaned right into it.
Fletcher said “Mom I think if you do that ten more times I’ll be asleep.”
Surprisingly it only took two rounds. I checked in with myself when we were done and I felt more relaxed, too. In that moment I could appreciate listening to the level breathing of both of my babies in the same room, soaking up the cuddles with Max and the serene state of Fletcher as he fell deeper into his peaceful sleep. It was the first time all day that his body had the opportunity to truly rest.
Tomorrow we do our annual practice walk to school where Fletcher hops on his scooter and gets a giant dose of heavy work en route. At school he reminds me of the door he’ll enter, where he’ll line up and maybe even who he thinks he’ll see on the first day before playing on the playground for a bit. We’ll be managing feelings and expectations and most certainly anticipation, but also making sure he feels as prepared as possible for the new year.
I know we’re not the only ones feeling the pressure and anticipation of such a big transition. Sending a little extra love to others who need it. A good year to all. <3