Slow and Steady Wins the Race

Meaning Beyond the Words

"School is broken"
"Night night is broken"
"Dinner is broken"
"The pull up is broken"
"The potty is broken"

There is a pattern here. When we don't want to do something, it simply becomes broken, and problem solved, at least in the mind of the 5 year old who struggles to find the words to simply say, "Let me finish what I am doing first".

We are slowly learning how our boy communicates, and trying our best to keep him on the schedule that he sometimes doesn't want to follow. We are always a walking contradiction, to the diagnosis - C wants a schedule, but on his terms; to the mantra that we are the parents and we are in charge - though C dictates much of our lives; to the fear - we hate living with it, but without it we become complacent.

For the past two years, C's progress has been noticeable and yet slow and steady. He seemed to tackle his goals one step at a time. This year he is soaring - Killing our expectations, smashing his goals, and again reminding us that he has no boundaries. He is the keeper of his accomplishments, and he will unlock those doors when he is ready... and we better be ready for that door to be unlocked, because before we know it, he will be counting to 100, speaking in 2 and 3 sentence paragraphs, telling us - verbally - his wants, his needs, and lately, even his feelings ("I am happy", "That makes me sad", and my personal favorite "Frustrated... I am not FRUSTRATED!")

And then there are moments where his words simply fail him, his verbal communication synapses aren't firing, and all the progress we were just rejoicing has retreated. We have tantrums, head banging, stuttering, and tears, lots of tears. We rely on our past , to help us navigate the now. We return to trying to hint at words that we think he is looking for, we provide options, we pray that in some way the missing words will suddenly flow freely and meaningfully. Sometimes it helps, we hit the nail on the head, we have solved the problem quickly and efficiently. We high five ourselves for knowing our child so thoroughly, that words aren't needed to be able to effectively communicate. And then, there are those times, when providing the words is a bigger frustration, if we had just waited a few more seconds, the words would have come, he would have been able to tell us on his own, in his way, and we retreat, with the white flag waving, defeated. C feels defeated too, he wanted to tell us, on his own. We were just too impatient to wait. We didn't have faith that he could do it on his own, and it deflates his confidence. It is apparent in his eyes. Those sweet eyes tell it all.

My favorite things to read, when perusing online, are the real stories of mom's like me, navigating the many twists and turns this diagnosis can take. The mom's who are real, the one's who tell it like it is, and aren't afraid to be optimistic, even when it is rejoicing the seemingly small accomplishment. Let's face it, we have to celebrate with equality, the smallest accomplishment can be as rewarding as the biggest. C getting frustrated that we stepped in, and spoke on his behalf shows an understanding beyond ours. He knows he can do it, he knows he has the words, he expects us to let him show that he knows.

Life is fast paced, it truly is passing by at warp speed. Yesterday I was bringing home my 3rd baby boy, my sweet, and today he is in kindergarten. We have conditioned ourselves to operate at a fast pace, equivalent to the world around us, it is our coping mechanism, either keep up, or get left behind. C is imploring us to slow down, give him the chance to show us that his saying "school is broken" means that he is working at his pace, and he will catch up to us, if we give him the chance. Slow and Steady. And when we slow down, hear the words, and understand their meaning, he complies. He finishes setting up his next Toy Story Scene, to come back to after school, and puts on his jacket and backpack, and waits by the door for his bus, ready to tackle his next accomplishment.