The Pause Button

Four days of no therapy, no work, no school, no obligations--just hanging out, cooking, baking (okay, with a mix--let's not get carried away here). And--luxury of luxuries--I'm taking the day off today to write, clean the house, meet a friend, and, yes, watch a little Oprah before I pick Isaac up. The morning is off to a great start: slept in (a little), played "I Spy" with Isaac on the walk to school, got a jaunty wave bye-bye, came home to a cup of gooood coffee, a little pumpkin bread, Caetano Veloso on the stereo. What could be better?

Sometimes I forget, you know? Forget the two schools, four therapies, five upcoming and two past Kindergarten tours, the tantrums, the worry, the fear, the economic and psychic and social and other pressures. And in the land of the compulsively overanalytical, a day off is both a blessing and a curse. Because it gives you time to think.

Are we doing all the right things? Are we doing enough of them?

If you listen to all the competing therapies, you'll hear a familiar strain. More. Earlier. Better outcomes. In the early days of our diagnosis, that was both reassuring (okay, we know what to do) and terrifying (Holy crap! How do we get it all done?) And then there is the question of how much change a family can withstand before it cracks under the pressure. And I do not mean this lightly. And it expands geometrically if you have more than one child (on or off the spectrum), or a child with extraordinary medical needs.

Around the time Isaac was two, we had a therapist (I'll call her Naomi) who pushed all our buttons (especially fast forward). We were still struggling with accepting Isaac's diagnosis, which was compounded by the fact that he was (and continues to be) much more engaged with us at home than he was in unfamiliar surroundings. She told us, and we knew, that the DIR (Floortime) model strongly suggests eight 20-minute sessions per day. And that in addition to OT, speech, school and ABA, which we were just starting. If we did everything that was asked of us, Isaac would be in therapy all day, every day. It wasn't possible. And it wasn't right.

We struggled with this for a long time. And then we'd break for the holidays, go East to see J's family, and have a week of unstructured time with family and cousins. And you know what? He acted out, sure. He had some really rough times. But every single trip, he'd make a developmental leap.

I often joke that Isaac has a more complicated schedule than either of his parents, and it's true. But he's four years old. And I admit it: when he comes home, he gets to watch a little TV. And if he wants to take every car out of the toy basket and examine it before putting it down, we let him do it for a whie. Is he learning anything in those moments? Probably not. Does it look perseverative? Yeah, sometimes. Is it constructive? Yes. Because the kid needs a break. He needs time to process it all, let it sink in, snuggle up to Mommy, eat a few cheese crackers and just watch Sesame Street.

And every single time, there's a little voice in my head: should I try to engage him? Should I turn this moment into a game? Am I wasting precious potential therapeutic opportunities? But then I remember that my son has emotional as well as developmental needs. And I tell the little voice to shut up.

Comments

[b]

Awesome post...that`s how I feel sometimes about him.I try to practise whatever his therapists tell me I should..but sometimes I can`t help but to think...he needs a break.AND SO DO YOU!!!

[kristen]

Wonderful post, Susan. You put into words what so many of us feel at times. It's good to tell that voice to shut up. Sometimes I think we should do it more often!

[Jordan]

This is great, Susan. We all need that down time. Especially the kids. Follow your intuition on that!

(And, by the way, although I was so sad to leave Beata behind, when I see comments like the one above I'm so glad you've got her now!!)

[drama mama]

Man. I wish that I wrote this post. This is SO perfectly stated. Yes. Breaks. Warmth. Love. Best therapy I can think of.
xo

[Niksmom]

God Bless you for this timely reminder.

[Christine]

Hi. I stop by here from time to time but have never left a comment before. I loved this post. My guy isn't that much older than yours -- he just turned five -- and this is something that I STILL struggle with. But I have a habit of having to RE-learn valuable lessons over and over again. Anyway, I just wrote a post about a very similar internal dialoge regarding GFCF. I wonder if all moms have those self-debates!

[Kathryn Johansen]

I wrestled with this, too in the beginning. My son was 5 in July. I still think that home is a soft place to fall. He has learned a lot from taking the DVDs out and examing them and stacking them, hanging out with mom on his bed, hanging out with his books, etc. You just cannot be planning every second like you said. My boy is exhausted when he gets home from his ESE kindergarten. He rides the bus to and from school and has therapy there. I am going to add ABA later on...it's so expensive and therapists are few and far between. Just when you least expect it, they DO make those leaps.

[Ellen Gerstein]

There's never enough time for the cuddling, I find. And that's worth more than all the therapy in the world. Call it Mommy therapy.