OT's with padded rooms and swings :)

STOP BLAMING YOURSELF MOMS

So today my littlest tiniest, being all of 7 years old went to an occupational therapist to be observed as he played. Tested on motor skills. And all the while I sat with my cold cup of coffee being interviewed about every moment that came to my mind over the last 7 years with my amazing little. All the quirks & oddities that stood out. He's an incredible little guy he's just experiencing some temper issues that seem to be triggered by sensory processing malfunctions. There I sat. Cold cup of coffee. Little one running around like crazy in a place it's totally acceptable to do that. And speaking with a woman who seems half my age that I'm depending on to give me all the answers. I hate to think of it like an interview, but I only have an hour to prove my case. And when the hour is up she decides if I will ever see her again and under what circumstances. Like a date. But my sons success depends on it.

And so I spilled my guts and I told her all about how he smells people. Like REALLY smells them. And things. And clothes. Sometimes walls. What an incredible sense of smell this kid has. If he receives multiple hand me down clothes he can in fact tell you who they came from based on how they smell. No joke. I tell her how he sleeps under heavy stuffed animals and covers his face with multiple blankets. How one day he wants oodles and oodles of bubbles in his bath and the next day, bubbles "hurt" his skin and we spend the next half hour calming down from a melt down. How since we went to the dentist last spring to get his tooth pulled from an infection the mere idea of brushing his teeth gives me a nightly migraine. I tell her everything is a battle. And then one day it's not. And then it's 8:32pm and it's all a battle again. There is no rhyme or reason except bubbles, and teeth, and boogers and frustration for both of us.

The interview ends and the whole time I'm feeling like this amazing room was made for my little boy. It's full of mats, climbers, blocks and even swings where he can get all of that amazing tummy stimulation. I saw the good in that room and I wanted so badly for him to have that opportunity. So when it was over she asked if I had any other questions. Before I knew it I was broken and crying with snot running down into my cold cup of coffee. All I could squeek out thru my broken teary voice was "am I crazy? Can you help us?"...

As a parent I second guess myself every single day. This does not mean I don't have confidence it simply means that here I am, in charge of another human beings life. Her/Her/Her/His & one more His life depends on it. My decisions are for the good of those little monkeys whether they like them or not. The discipline, mac & cheese, snuggles, homework, appointments, quitting my corporate job of 13 years... it's all for them. They won't get it until they hold their own in their arms and right after they decide everything they will do differently from me because I did it wrong... their light bulb will come on. And that's the moment I do it for.

So off we go on a new adventure. In a padded room. Where a swing hangs from the ceiling. Because my babiest of kids, deserves it. And because she said "YES! I CAN HELP YOU!"