Toons Can’t Jump
"The Joy of Childhood" by Edwin S. Loyola under CC-BY-NC via stockvault.net
It finally happened. My son noticed a way in which he is different from typical kids.
He has dyspraxia, which becomes most evident when he is trying to run, jump and generally act like a 7-year old boy with lots of energy.
We were at a birthday party today, which was held at a kids’ gym. I was marveling at how much improved his strength and motor skills seem to be—he was jumping, climbing, swinging on ropes—when the kids started doing a simple vaulting activity. (They were using a trampoline to jump over a large cylinder.) Squidboy was happily going along, until his turn came and he couldn’t get over the cylinder.
He got off the trampoline, and headed for the corner, trying, oh, so bravely, not to cry (not like him–he usually just lets fly.) He didn’t want my comfort; he wanted to be alone.
In the past, when he’s had trouble doing physical activities that other kids were doing, he never seemed to notice; he just went along in his own way, happy to be part of the group. But maturity, and a social skills group at school seem to have made him more aware of kids around him as a group (in the past, he’s always focused exclusively on single kids), which is necessary, but not without its drawbacks.
When I asked him what was wrong, he answered that “Toons can’t jump without help.” (He recently saw Who Framed Roger Rabbit? and has been pretending to be a ‘toon ever since.) He asked me to leave him alone, which I did (and it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.)
There are no words to describe how proud I was of him, when, after a few minutes, he got up and tried again. My heart shattered into a million little pieces when he had the same difficulty.
On the way home, I offered all the platitudes I could think of—how people different people are good at different things; how he was GREAT at drawing, whereas I can’t draw a straight line; how sometimes hard things just take practice…
He was quiet, and obviously thinking things over. After a few minutes, he volunteered that “toons sometimes need springs to help them,” and I agreed, adding that he could ask his OT to work on jumping with him, if he wanted.
He cheered up, and was his usual happy self again.
But I can’t help thinking that Something has Happened, and that the time is coming when he will notice more of his differences, and I’ll need to come up with some good answers for him.
God bless your kid.. and thanks for using my image, greatly appreciated.
Thank you, and thank you for sharing your wonderful images.
That can be so hard..I work with my little guys to let in the world..to not be so overwhelmed..and they do…and then they notice things..And I think..ahhhh! I didn’t want them to notice quite everything. You did handle it well..but it hurts letting them grow up and out doesn’t it?
Yes, and it’s one of the reasons I hate all the “woe is me, my kid has autism” stuff that’s been discussed of late.
These kids have enough challenges without the added perception that they’re a disappointment to their parents.
Yep, it is one of the heart-wounds of parenting, when our kids struggle. But they have to struggle to grow.
How great that he’s found a way of talking about his differences, as a “toon”. The sentence “toons sometimes need springs to help them” will serve him well.
I also wonder about the implications of that study on autism, visual-motor skills & proprioception for people like your boy. Here’s a newpaper report http://www.upi.com/Health_News/2009/07/08/Autism-poor-visual-motor-skills-linked/UPI-89491247098181/ . Here’s the link to Nature Neuroscience.
Thanks for the link. I read it recently, as well as some things on general sensory processing, which relate to my son. There is some difference of opinion about his real diagnosis among the various doctors/therapists/psychologists who have evaluated him–some say PDD-NOS, others say SPD w/an ASD, some just SPD w/no ASD.
In the end, we’ve just tried all the things recommended, and have stuck with the things that seem to help. The only difficulties the diagnostic issues have raised have been in how to refer to his “condition” when it’s appropriate to do so (like this blog), and of course, insurance reimbursement for therapy.
And yesterday, he rode a bike with no training wheels for the first time! So one win, one loss is our total for the week–and we’re fine with that.
Thanks, Kim.
Yeah, we talked some more this morning about it. I explained that he goes to OT because he sometimes needs extra help learning to do things that some–but NOT ALL–kids do on their own, and that we want him to be able to do anything he wants to do. I reminded him again of the things he just does really well that lots of other kids can’t do. I also told him about the many hours I had to spend on extra handwriting practice because I just had lots of trouble, and how I always came in dead-last at swim-meets because swimming was one of the things I just wasn’t good at.
Part of the problem is that he has weaknesses he still isn’t really aware of, and they are ones he isn’t particularly interested in working on (grapho-motor, voice modulation) but that he needs.
Thanks for the encouragement!
My heart goes out to you. I think every mom has been in this situation. You want to take away the pain but can’t. You want to say the right thing. But what is the right thing? I am glad he cheered up.
He is probably totally over it whereas you are probably scarred forever. Parenting is just not easy and there is just no manual that fits my kids either.
Thanks, Pinky.
This kind of thing happens to all parents at some point or another; it’s just hard when suddenly come up against one of the many small things that can serve to make life a bit more difficult for people with differences.
It’s both a good day and a bad day when that click of awareness happens. Good because in order to work towards change you need to see a need for change. Bad because now that he notices, it will hurt his heart to see the differences. How you handle it will matter tremendously in making that heart-hurt go away. Celebrating his strengths while working on the weaknesses he feels are important is, I believe, the better way to go about it. It sounds like you handled it very well.
Hugs,
Kim