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Presently, we are a Cinderella house. It feels like we eat, breathe and sleep all things Cinderella.
The only movie requested: Cinderella. The only song requested in the car: “Bippidy Boppidy Boo.” The only toys fought over played with: the plenitude of Cinderella figurines (also the Fairy Godmother, the Step-Sisters, and the Prince).
While Chee has always scripted language, she has never been one for reenactments of stories from books or movies. (Until the last few months, she’s never been one for movies, preferring instead her 25 minute PBS shows.)
Cinderella has changed this. We are reenacting like crazy around here. Usually it’s the same scene from the garden where Cinderella is crying and the Fairy “Godmudder” appears and transforms her. I’m usually the godmother and Chee gives me all my lines (since I’m old and can’t remember). I will say, though, that I do an impressive interpretation of “Bippidy Boppidy Boo” thankyouverymuch.
Chee doesn’t limit her reenactments to live versions. She will act out the scenes with her figurines, too. One of her favorite parts of the movie is “the bells” – right after “Cinderella and the prince are wedding” and they ride off in the “brown carriage” (brown?).
For many days she has been asking us for a brown carriage. I started out telling her to just pretend that one of the blue carriages is the brown carriage.
Miss Literal is not satisfied to pretend in such a way. No, she really, really wants the brown carriage.
My own Prince took it upon himself to fashion her a brown carriage out of popsicle sticks, beads and cardboard. She was satisfied for a day, but then came the dire (!!), urgent (!!) need for a “NEW” toy brown carriage.
She became desperate. Relentless in her pursuit of a NEW! toy brown carriage. She wouldn’t quit talking about it. She wouldn’t quit asking for it.
Chee, I said, I can’t go to the store and buy you a brown carriage tonight. The stores are closed. Now, I don’t want to talk about the brown carriage anymore.
There was a momentary respite.
Mommy, would you like to have a conbersation with me about the brown carriage now?
I had to laugh.
Bedtime was approaching. She was refusing to go upstairs without the toy brown carriage. No amount of reasoning worked. She neeeeeeeded the toy brown carriage. Much sobbing and carrying on ensued.
Certain that a brown toy carriage does not exist, I sat down at the computer with her and said, Let’s shop online. (I may well regret this one day.)
We typed ‘new toy brown carriage’ into the Google search bar. Nothing worthwhile showed up.
I boldly went to Amazon and typed ‘toy carriage’ – there were six pages of results – all of which she rejected. I want the brown carriage, I want the brown carriage!
And then I got a little too bold.
I went to eBay.
I typed in toy carriage. I hit search.
There! There it is! I want the brown carriage.
(Damn!) Chee, that’s not a brown carriage. That’s white.
We can paint it brown.
Chee, the Prince and Cinderella don’t ride off in a brown carriage. It’s white. This is the carriage they ride in and say good-bye.
Can we get it? Can we get it?
Ka-ching.
A mom who is a behavioral purist might say I was rewarding the carrying on and crying for a toy even after being told no.
A mom like me, however, would know that I was, in fact, rewarding some extremely excellent language heretofore unheard.
There’s time enough to learn those other lessons.
I generally don’t find myself wishing friends or neighbors a Happy Halloween as I haven’t typically found this to be a celebratory “holiday.” Goblins and ghouls and all things macabre just aren’t my thing. But dressing kids in cute costumes and watching them spaz out on sugar overload … now that’s cute. Well, the dressing up kids part at least.
Somehow, in our house, Halloween became a developmental milestone to conquer. Yet another yardstick for measuring Chee’s relative typicality.
Her first Halloween she was but a wee little infant and had not a clue. We dressed her up in the Cheapest Costume I Could Find at the last minute and traipsed her around to all the grandparents for a little show and tell.

Her 2nd Halloween wasn’t much different. At 15 months, she was still fairly clueless about costumes and candy. I dressed her up and we went to a party/parade at the MOMS Club I briefly joined. At the time I didn’t understand the whole candy thing, still don’t really, and Chee didn’t quite get the idea of collecting it in a bag, so we just sort of wandered the room. She was still the cutest kid there.

At 27 months, I thought Halloween Number Three would be it. That she’d get excited about wearing a costume, or that she’d want to collect candy (which she’d never had) and trinkets in a bag at a party. In hindsight I recognize that Chee was only echolalic in her speech and had no reciprocal language. However, I didn’t realize it then so I chalked up her lack of interest to just her age. Still I picked out a very cute clown costume and planned to attend a playgroup party. However, she refused (in a temper tantrumy, meltdowny kind of way) to wear the costume (hello SPD, nice to meet you). So I put her in pajamas, put her hair in a bunch of ponytails, and she went as Slumber Party Girl.

Now we’re up to last year. We have moved and live in a Trick or Treat-friendly neighborhood, Chee is certainly old enough, at 3 plus a few months, to know what Halloween is and to get into it. Except, she still has that language thing going on. She doesn’t verbally tell me she wants to dress up as anything. I chose not to force the issue and buy her a costume anyway and try to go door-to-door. She had the fear of garages going on and likely would not step foot into a single driveway. I wanted us to “do” Halloween when it was something Chee (or Ess) wanted to do, not something we, as parents, wanted her (them) to do. So our little family sat outside and greeted the neighborhood Trick or Treaters.

(Oh, look, hey, there’s me, I’m the one on the right. I still look like that but my hair is longer and I don’t usually look that pale. Oh, who am I kidding, I’m that pale all the time.)
Interesting thing, though, was that about half an hour into the candy passing, Chee decided she wanted “to go with all the kids” and she takes off. So for half and hour we walked the streets, no costume, no bag, steadfastly avoiding driveways, and froze our buns off. As soon as we got home, she wanted her Daddy to take her back out to look for the kids again. Another half hour spent wandering the streets.
And so we arrive at 2008, Halloween Number Five for our heroine. And guess what? She WANTED to go trick or treating! She couldn’t wait for Halloween to arrive so she could wear her costume. When I imagined what Chee might eventually want to dress up as, I admit that my mind didn’t wander too far from the tradition of Cinderella or a Butterfly or something similarly girly and, y’know, expected.
Not Chee though. No, no Cinderella’s for this Halloween novice.
About a month and half ago as we were walking through a store I pointed out the costumes and said,
Chee, it’s going to be Halloween in October. Do you think you want to wear a costume this year?
Yes! She declared, quite enthusiastically.
And what do you think you’d like to dress up as?
At this point, Chee stopped, put her hand on her chin, pondered for a minute, jumped up and down, and said, I WANT TO BE A WAITRESS!!!

And there she is! Our little waitress in standard waitress attire: black pants, white top, and flair-adorned apron. I also made her a tray complete with cups and bowl, but she left Daddy (who she insisted wear a Chef’s outfit) to carry that.
We met up with the family down the street (whom we have only met a few times) and their 6-year-old son was rather smitten with Chee (can you blame him?). They ran from house to house together, ringing doorbells, laughing, talking, having a grand ol’ time.
It was such a fun and festive time, I actually found myself wishing passersby a hearty Happy Halloween.
Also, let it be known that Ess was an adorable Snow White.

Cheapskates that we are, and not certain whether Ess would stay in a costume for more than a minute, we sort of primed her for being a princess and let her choose from the dresses we already have. She chose Snow White and loved collecting her candy, so long as she was safe in Mommy’s arms. Walking down the street she “want down, want down,” but for going to the door, she needed Mommy.
I guess you can say it was a very Happy Halloween.
As the mom of a child who has delays, I find myself celebrating such Little Things. Little Things that perhaps I might take for granted had her development been typical. I suspect that most parents are proud of what their child does – especially when it’s the first time. But when the first time comes a long, long time (sometimes years) later than expected, celebration ensues.
For example, Chee’s writing of the letter R (an important letter in her name) is simply fabulous. Finally. We’ve been working on that for some time.
Today she noticed Grandma, bowl and spoon in hand, stirring. She asked, Grandma, what’re you making? Spontaneous and in-context language – we rejoice! It’s happening more and more.
She throws a ball without swinging her arm out to the side – Hooray!
Little Things, yes, but packed with significance.
On the Bigger side of Things, we had a terrific weekend. My husband was given tickets to an amusement park so we headed out yesterday late morning. Other than wanting to be carried a lot, Chee handled all that is inherent with a loud, hot, crowded amusement park in stride. Not a single meltdown. That’s Big.
Partly it was due to her Amazing Language. Language that enabled her to tell us when she wanted to stop something, or try something new. Or when she needed a hug.
She and Ess rode the cars together. Perhaps having her sister with her made it easier for her than when she rode the rides at the amusement park on vacation.
If you look closely, you might be able to see that her hair is shorter. Another one of our Big Things that we celebrate. A very successful outing to the Kids Hair Salon. No resistance, no fear. Lots of combing, cutting and parting. Layers even!
It’s taken 3 years, five stressful (and I mean stressful) haircuts, and more than a dozen failed attempts to finally arrive at this:
An even Bigger Thing came in the form of her playing a game of tag with a “new friend” at the playground a few weeks ago.
Her first game of Tag. (Is that a milestone? It should be.) He ran up to her, popped her on the back, and shouted, Tag, you’re it! and took off running. She started chasing him but didn’t run as fast. He came and found her and then danced around her, just a little bit out of reach, and when she went toward him he took off again. I think she was confused. So I leaned in and demonstrated how to tag him, what to say, and off she went.
Eventually, she caught up with him. She popped him on the back with a Tag, you’re it! and took off. He followed her. My little Sensory-Seeker was all about the Getting Tagged (rather than doing the Tagging).
It was the longest interaction I’ve ever seen her maintain with a child her age. Big Things.
Eight more days till she returns to preschool. I’m hopeful for more Things, both Big and Little, to celebrate.
Wow. It was quite interesting to learn, via comments on yesterday’s post, a couple of emails, and conversations with another parent at OT yesterday, that Circle Time is difficult for many kids. Sensory stuff and Circles are not a good combination apparently. I’m sorry that our kids struggle with it, but I am comforted knowing that we are not alone in this.
I shared the church experience with Chee’s OT yesterday and she was nonplussed. She felt it was more a reaction triggered by not liking Circle Time at preschool this past year, and not so much church-specific. Our plan is for her to collaborate with the School OT and see if we can find something to make it easier for Chee. I will share the suggestions that were given to me in the comments as starters. And to a certain degree I think she will outgrow it.
In other news…
Chee has resumed using big toilets. I think we’re over the not-using-public-restrooms debacle (’scuse me while I go knock on some wood).
While there is still some fear about our garage at the house, Chee has shown little problem with going in other garages. We’ve hit a few random garage sales over the summer with success, so last week we hit about 10 in one day at a neighborhood garage sale. She’s still hesitant when walking in, and I noticed that she’d duck and look up while crossing the threshold into the garage. That has led me to suspect that it may be a fear of the garage door itself. There’s that, and then the fact that last week as she was running as fast as she could to the van from the front door, she was saying, I. do. not. like. it. when. the. garage. door. is. open. That gives me something new to work with when garage therapy resumes again.
Lastly, in the spirit of Kids Say the Weirdest Darndest Things, Chee was snuggling with her Daddy the other day, laying back in his arms like a wee baby. She looked up at him and said, Daddy, you can’t nurse me. We all laughed. And almost cried.
There is something almost indescribable about hearing your language disordered (delayed?) kid finally start using her OWN words. But many of you already know that.
… the indoctrination of my kids.
Despite the fact that I haven’t been to church in over 3 years, I consider myself a church-going gal. Lapsed a little in attendance, perhaps, but a church-goer nonetheless.
Chee is not the reason we stopped going for awhile, but she is the reason we never started back. I’ve considered it often over the last few years, but stopped short because I knew I couldn’t leave her with some random Sunday School volunteer. Even for just an hour.
Not because of Chee, but because of them. I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone looking askance at her because they don’t recognize Sensory Processing Disorder. I worried she might be forced (or someone might attempt to force her) to sit in the Sunday School version of Circle Time, and she would become agitated and I would be summoned because of her “non-compliance.” Worse yet, I worried she would be ignored and left to play alone due to her reciprocal (or lack thereof) communication skills. Those same missing language skills would also mean she couldn’t tell me if she was not treated well.
In short, church just wasn’t worth me subjecting my kid to something that would only stress her out. She wasn’t ready for it, and neither have I been.
But lately the itch has been getting stronger, and I’m suspecting that Chee, with her Seriously Awesome Language (official SLP term, don’t ya know?), could handle it. And if she didn’t like it, I am now 100% certain she could tell me and we could talk about it. (Just today she ever so articulately told me, But I don’t LIKE green grapes, I want RED grapes. Seriously. Awesome. And that’s nothing. Oh the post I could write…)
Churches I have attended have been of many flavors and varieties. From traditional, old-school denominational churches to the hip, new mega-churches I’ve been to them all. I attended a Catholic church for awhile, as well as a couple of different Evangelical churches.
Having been around the church-search block a time or two, I know what I’m looking for, and what I’m not. When we visit churches, the we is ME. I scout the church ahead of time on my own. Check out the kids area first, read the handout and see what kind of stuff they do for and in the community, then go to a service. The main criteria in the service is that the message has to be good. Damn good.
This past Sunday I think I found The Church. I know quite a few people that go there already, and was pleasantly surprised to run into still others once there. It’s of the hip, new variety (not a mega-church though) with multimedia mixed into the service, a rock band and everyone is dressed like they’re going to a picnic. Great for me since I don’t own a single dress. (Is that sad?)
Interestingly, when I asked Chee if she’d like to go to church on Sunday she said no. When asked why, she said, I don’t want to sit down and be quiet. Considering she hasn’t been to church since about 10 months old, I haven’t a clue where she got that idea.
On a whim, I decided to ask if I could bring her into the church during the week to see her classroom. Since one of the people that I know at the church is the minister’s wife, it was not uncomfortable to make this request. What are friends for, right?
Wouldn’t you know it, the classroom for Chee’s age has many of her favorite things: a rock climbing wall, a slide, a book nook (how cool is that?), a dollhouse and a pretend kitchen. And much more. She was enthralled. When we left she said, Can we go to church tomorrow? This was followed by much whining when the answer was no.
The visit was not complete without a trip to the nursery where Ess will hang with the other Under Twos. Right away she spotted one of those annoying Elmo dancing dolls and so she’s raring to go back.
And so begins the indoctrination.
A slide, a rock band, Elmo and God.
Peace be with you.
And enjoy your latte.
I had a funny moment the other day.
Our little family went out for ice cream a few days ago. I was holding Chee up so she could look at the ice cream flavors before making her choice. She was looking at all of them and oohing and ahhing. The ice cream girl asked her what she’d like and Chee answered, Vanilla.
Would you like it in a cone or a cup?
A cup, Chee responded.
Then something new. Chee was asked, Do you want sprinkles or would you like it plain?
Without hesitation she responded (gleefully), Sprinkles!!!
A few minutes later we were sitting at our table and another customer, who had been behind us, commented on Chee’s orange toenails, how cute they were. I told her how Chee likes to have them painted whatever color mine are painted. She went on tell me she has an 8 month old daughter who’s too young for ice cream yet, but she’s looking forward to when she’s older and she can converse with her the way I was conversing with Chee.
Little did she know I’ve been looking forward to that for a long time too.
Not every day week is a good day week.
Perhaps it’s the post best birthday ever letdown.
Truthfully, it’s only been a bad three days, but three days of whining and crying feels like forever a week. I am not an amused mother anymore.
Monday and Tuesday were fine. Monday I was gone for 3 hours in the early afternoon so that probably contributed to why the day was fine for me. Tuesday we had a pool party with her preschool class. Of course that day was great – swimming pool, friends, a stop for ice cream. What’s to be unhappy about?
Wednesday is when things started going south. Her last tumbling class ended with her crying and unable to explain why. Later she told me cried because her sticker ripped. Her sticker!!! A sticker bringing on that level of tears was an ominous foreboding.
I wish I could remember the horrid travesties of the rest of the day, but my mind has mercifully blocked them from memory.
Much of Thursday and today was comprised of a lot of not listening to me. So deliberate in her ignoring my requests to stop bad behavior (like ripping open a box of food). This morning she cried when we went outside to play in the back yard. She just wanted me to hug her and she requested to go back inside. Fortunately Ess wasn’t having a great time outside either so she complied. Unless there’s a swimming pool or a sprinkler involved, my girls are not outside girls. We like air conditioning.
The echolalia today was rampant. There is nothing more frustrating than thinking I’m having a legitimate conversation with Chee only to find out that she’s playing the role of Caillou or, in particular today, Caillou’s friend Leo. I will go along with it for awhile, but then I am all echoed out. It made playing any number of games impossible. That’s the other thing. Let’s play [insert game here]! she says to me, only to wander off while I’m getting it down or about 15 seconds into it.
Her obsession with Baby Einstein DVDs is in full force too. Chee was just wild about Baby Einstein in her “younger” days. Once I became aware of the pragmatic aspect of her language delay, I realized that there is nothing conversational about Baby Einstein and I phased them out. I view Baby Einstein in such a new way now. Nothing particularly educational about them beyond vocabulary building. Entertaining, yes. One day they went to live with another family. She was fine with that and never asked for them. Somehow, though, she found them when we moved last year and I’ve let her watch them on occasion again. And now she wants to watch them over and over again. And over. I think it’s time they went to live elsewhere again. Permanently. (For kicks some time I’ll devote an entire post to the many and varied loves of Baby Einstein this house has seen.)
In the midst of all this whining and crying, Chee had two important appointments yesterday. Her 4 year check up with her pediatrician, and her quarterly physical therapy session. The 4 year checkup was fabulous. Chee let herself be examined, she answered all of the doctor’s questions, she was highly agreeable. This appointment was a thousand times better than her three year checkup where the doctor noted that she was totally echolalic and refused physical examination. Not too bad for one year later. There were a couple of shots, which did not go well, but that’s to be expected. Upon reviewing her chart, her pediatrician declared her to look like a typical THREE year old. Um, she’s four, I reminded the doctor. Yes, she said, but she looks like a three year old. (90th percentile for height and weight not withstanding.)
Then on to Physical Therapy where, again, she did quite fabulous. I mentioned to her PT what the pediatrician said about looking like a three year old and she agreed that developmentally Chee reminds her more a three year old than a four year old. And, I’m recalling, her speech therapist says that Chee’s language is that of an early 3 year old than an early four year old.
Hmmm, the wheels start turning in my brain. Could it be that behaviorally she’s more like a 3 year old than a 4 year old too?
Maybe.
She was so very adamant today about buttering her own corn on the cob. My husband didn’t let her and she ran from the room and threw herself down in a heap of tears in the next room. I told her to come back and she could butter her own corn and she was happy. From what I’m reading, the “do it myself” phase generally happens at three. But for a kid who is about a year behind developmentally, maybe that phase is happening now at four. I could give other examples, but this post is already too long.
What this means for me, as the frustrated Mom who lost her own temper a couple of times these past few days, is start treating her like a 3 year old. Forget thinking of her as special needs or sensory sensitive (although those things are still important), but just think of her as a really tall 3 year old. It really makes sense. Last summer, when she turned 3, we had some pretty horrible times. My husband and I used to say we were finally hitting the terrible twos. Now at age 4, it feels like a lot of expected 3 year old behavior is hitting us.
With the rate at which she’s been developing, I’m suspecting hoping praying that we will move through some of this with lightening speed and she can start being the charming girl that all four year olds are.
Yeah right. I hear uproarious laughter from the parents of four year old girls everywhere.
Don’t be fooled by my glib tone into thinking that I am not somewhat obsessively worrying about her being a year behind and wondering when the delay will be less obvious. Remember, I’m a worrier.
Meanwhile, I’m dusting off the special handbook the gods gave me for parenting a three year old and I’m going to adjust my expectations. Wish me luck. Wish us luck.
Or so declared Chee Saturday afternoon as we put the final touches on the decorations and waited for her guests to arrive.
She turned four years old!
To celebrate, we had her first-ever “friend” birthday party. She’s been excited about this for over a month. A month!
As I’ve been noodling in my head just what to say about the party and about her turning four, my mind wanders as there’s so much to say.
I could report how perfectly comfortable and happy she was. I could share countless examples of how she fully engaged with her friends. There was the wild success of the Pinata and the stuff-your-own teddy bear. Our good fortune that Ess slept till after the Pinata bashing cannot be overlooked. My husband I declared the party a huge success. All our planning, re-planning and worrying paid off. The party kicked ass.
A memorable moment was Chee not crying during the singing of Happy Birthday and the subsequent clapping and cheering that seems to always follow. (Her family breathed a collective sigh of relief.) Another was when she took her favorite birthday present, a digital camera, and held it up to her Grandpa’s face and said, Here you go, you look through here, you say ’say cheese,’ and you press this blue button. Giving instructions! That was a first.
I could get all mushy and talk about how perfect she is and how much I love her, but I did lots of that to her face already and I don’t think it needs to be said anymore. We all know. It’s a given.
As she was getting ready for bed, I asked her what was her favorite part of the party. Was it the cake, or opening the presents or playing games, or something else?
She took a moment and said, My favorite part was seeing all my friends.
That, friends, was my favorite part of the whole day.
I’m rather enjoying this particular developmental spot that both my girls are in. Chee has recently had what one could call a conversation boom in her language. She’s very engaged with us, very communicative. But especially so with her sister. Ess is already quite the conversationalist. However, it’s a bit of an emerging skill with the both of them. Makes for some hilarious, if not repetitive, discussions.
Chee’s birthday is Sunday. She’s very excited. She invites nearly everyone she meets to her party, which is Saturday. She also asks them how old are you going to be on your next birthday? Most are caught off guard, but they usually answer. I know it’s not a polite question, but we’ll deal with that later. I’m just happy she’s talking to people!
Tonight we went to a party supply store to pick up a few more things for the main event. On the list was Party Hats. Chee is requesting that everybody wear hats at her party. We’ve invited six little friends over. Our first not-just-family party.
On the way there, our girls chatted.
Ess: I wan nuss, I wan nuss. (Code for I want to nurse.)
Chee: Nooooo, you can’t nurse, we’re going to Party City! Yay Party City!!
Ess: I wan go swimming!
Chee: Nooo, you can’t go swimming, we’re going to Party City! Yay Party City!!
Ess: I wan Mommy, I wan Mommy!!
Chee: No, you can’t ha… (pause) You can have Mommy, Chee (pause) I will go with Daddy!
While it’s not the most high level and robust of conversations, it was definitely back and forth. And back and forth. Chee is very good at answering most all of Ess’ questions. Which are many. What doing, Chee? Where Daddy, Chee? What doing, Chee? (What doing is the question of the week.)
I used to be afraid that Ess would surpass Chee in language development. Instead what I think she’s doing is speeding her along. She’s a good role model, believe it or not, even at 19 months. And while Ess, as the younger sibling, is constantly worried she’s going to miss out on some thing of grand importance, it is actually Chee who is doing as much, if not more, of the imitating between the two.
It seems we have been blessed with the perfect little sister for Chee.
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Epilogue to the short story
Our protagonist is using the potty at home, of her own volition, about half the time. Her Mommy has no idea why. Perhaps it is the Mommy’s strategy of just ignoring the pottying. A strategy born from a desire to withhold strong, strong feelings of rage that threatened to consume the Mommy’s entire being. Whatever the reason, the little girl seems to be tiring of peeing on the carpet because nobody seems to care anymore. And there’s a note on the fridge that says Mommy will buy more Popsicles when the little girl starts using the potty again. She reads that every day. And everyday Mommy says, Maybe today will be the day that we can buy those Popsicles.
So far, they’re still waiting.
But every day they seem to be a little closer.
Maybe tomorrow.
The brilliant blogger/speech therapist/mom (more I’m sure) Jordan commented on my post yesterday About Autism saying the following (among other things):
I do believe that for some kids, the sensory processing piece is the pivotal issue, and once they get enough help with that, a lot of other pieces fall into place (such as language and a readiness for more age-appropriate learning).
I hope I’m not overstepping, Jordan, by calling out a portion of what you said, but it rang ever so true with me, and also reminded me that I want to pull out my spreadsheets share some of my observations on Chee and her New and Improved Sensory Diet.
You may recall that I had said what a terrific day we had after a morning spent swimming. I have heard (and it has been confirmed several times over) that swimming is terrific sensory input, particularly proprioceptive (heavy work). I have in the past observed that when I routinely engage Chee in some heavy work, she seems to have better concentration and we will see an increase in her spontaneous and conversational language. It’s quite remarkable to tell the truth. Since she’s been in preschool and getting a pretty good Sensory Diet there and at her weekly OT session, I haven’t been diligent in our diet at home. Not to mention that I think the Sensory Diet we had been doing at home has run its course.
I won’t go into the daily minutiae specifics because, let’s face it, it’s not that interesting to anyone but me. And maybe Chee’s occupational therapist.
But I will share the highlights – the New & Improved Sensory Diet is working! Wonderfully!
Swimming is very effective. On days we “swam” (i.e. army crawled back and forth a lot across the pool), she was very well-regulated. Unless it was the weekend. But I think that had more to do with the separation anxiety that I recently talked about. In fact, it was because of our experience at the pool last Sunday that I came to the conclusion that it is indeed separation anxiety, and not Sensory Dysregulation.
The army crawls aren’t the only thing that is effective in the water. So is crashing. Chee came up with that herself. I think her body/nervous system (whatever) knows what it needs. She spent the entire hour and half we were at the pool throwing herself down. A modified Nestea plunge, if you will. (I figured out later that she was falling down like Rachel does at the end of the Silly Pizza Song – if you are a Signing Time fan, you’ll know what I’m talking about.)
As it’s not realistic to go to the pool every day, I had to come up with something new at home. Thus, the Obstacle Horse was born. For some it’s a course, but Chee calls it a horse. And as it’s sooo darn cute, I refuse to correct her.
What seems to be the significant part of the Obstacle Horse is crashing onto cushions. Chee loves it.
We have done three, maybe four, different Obstacle Courses this past week. Always, I’ve included Cushion Crashing. It’s a huge hit. As is jumping into and out of the Hula Hoop, balancing on her belly (on an exercise ball) while digging puzzle pieces out of a bucket of rice (need a less messy version of that), crawling through a tunnel, walking across her homemade balance beam (her balance is so much better than it used to be), stepping (alternating feet) through the homemade “ladder” on the floor, and trampoline jumping. (Not all of these in ONE Course, mind you.)
We’re usually doing the Obstacle Course both in the morning and in the afternoon, but I’m leaving the couch cushions on the floor for her to crash as much she wants (which is often).
However, so as not to burn out on the Obstacle Course, occasionally I’m throwing in a splash of Yoga Kids (she loves this video) and games of Simon Says, where we do lots of things like bear crawls and caterpillar crawls and other Yoga poses from the video.
Results we’ve seen include significantly improved language – spontaneous and conversational – and a much calmer Chee during what is normally the “witching hour” (around dinner time). Also, there is less crying and tantruming when Ess starts acting Ess-like (what you would expect from an 18 month old). More than anything, though, it’s the increased language. The clear sharing of thoughts and feelings. That is Chee’s most significant delay area, so I’m thrilled to see progress there.
I can’t think of any other thing that I can attribute the difference I’ve seen in her this last week. And it kind of confirms my suspicion that Sensory Processing is her biggest ‘issue’ and should remain a priority.
A consistent Sensory Diet has helped her manage a busy week of a cousin visiting, dinner out at crowded, loud restaurant, some unexpected changes in weekend plans. And she’s just plain fun to be around too. I imagine she just feels better too when she doesn’t have to expend so much energy trying to regulate herself.
And you know, I haven’t seen a lot of doinking lately. That makes this Sensory Diet worth its weight in gold.





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