Fletcher has gone to occupational therapy once a week for almost 3 years with the exception of a few months in the very beginning of the pandemic. OT has been a crucial part of our weekly routine and something he has both needed and benefitted from (and if we’re being honest, something that I needed, too!).
The first two weeks of November he had rough sessions, exhibiting behaviors that we hadn’t seen in a really long time. If my kids have taught me anything, it’s to be acutely aware of what they’re trying to communicate with not only words, but actions. Something seemed off. He was resisting swimming lessons, too, and I wondered if maybe he was just burned out.
So along with his OT, we decided to take a few weeks off (of all of his activities) and resume after Thanksgiving. We had been going for so long that I had to check-in and remind myself that taking a few weeks off would be fine (despite my gut reaction of wanting to resist any change in our routine) – and probably good for all of us.
And you know what? It absolutely was. When he returned this week, I wasn’t met with resistance on the way and he had ideas for how he wanted the session to go. During his session, his OT asked him if the break from OT went okay and he replied with “yeah, I think my body needed it.”
Fletcher has always been a perceptive kid with an innate ability to articulate his feelings and needs, but that statement confirmed for me that we made the right choice and that even if he can’t tell us with words, his actions never lie.
Here are my two take-aways from this:
- Sometimes we all need a break. I forget this (often) and am always grateful for the reminder because even our littles who depend on all of the structure we provide them need breaks. If things are feeling like too much, take a little time off. Maybe it’s skipping a week or two of therapy to regroup. Maybe it’s saying no to a gathering of friends or family if the thought of it is overwhelming. Maybe it’s not signing up for a session of an activity. And maybe it’s putting on a movie for the kids and retreating to the other room by yourself to relish in the silence for a second. However it looks, give yourself and your family members the grace and permission to scale back.
- Our kids know. Whether they have the words to articulate it or not, they know. They know when they’re tired, worn out, burned out, frustrated. And often, they know that they need something different than what they’re getting. Meltdowns, tantrums or defiance are all forms of communication and maybe even code for “I’m struggling and I don’t have the words to tell you.” In the moment it can be so hard to see that, especially if as the parent or caregiver you are in fight or flight mode, but when we give ourselves the time and space to take a step back and key into what’s happening, we might just find clarity in their messaging.
The further along we get in our sensory journey, the more it becomes crystal clear that our boys are our north stars. Our guides. Our greatest teachers. And we know that we have to be open to learning from them, it makes life better for all of us. We have a lot of hard moments. But we also have so many things to celebrate. It’s in the celebratory moments that I’m reminded of how far we’ve come.
Three years ago, talking about “how far we’ve come” wasn’t on my radar. I felt like I was drowning in an abyss of unpredictability, big emotions, meltdowns at a moment’s notice and the constant feeling of being overwhelmed. There was no light at the end of the tunnel… we weren’t even IN a tunnel because there certainly didn’t feel like a way out.
When I really need to be reminded of our collective progress, I look up at the ceiling of our van where there are still visible remnants of an applesauce pouch that was launched in my direction during a meltdown. The cap flew off and applesauce went everywhere. I was too tired and deflated to even care that it had gotten on the fabric ceiling of our vehicle. And so there it stayed. When I see it now, I can pause for a moment and think… “I can’t even remember the last time we had a meltdown like that.”
Strength and support. Love and light.