How It Should Be

Therapy day. I wake up to stomach issues. I'm dreading going. I always do.

We are scheduled to have the bitchy therapist again (biding our time...only four more weeks until she is gone forever). I know it is going to be ugly because true to form, as the day progresses, Sh.awn's attitude steadily declines.

I'm not looking forward to it, but as much as it's hard for me, I know it is even worse for him. Everything about him is signaling that the idea of going is taxing him. He's screaming. He's hitting his brother. He is crying during quiet time for no reason at all.

The sad thing is that he wants to go. I know he does. He loves to learn and talk to people. He works hard when motivated and can be so hard working. The end result is a tug-of-war between the want and apprehension.

We get ready to go, get into the car. He's quiet while he looks out the window. I wonder what he's thinking. As we pull into the parking lot, he tells me he wants me to carry him into the building.

I take a deep breath and start with my routine. "You're going to have a great day today, Shawn! I wonder what fun things you'll get to do? What do you think, hm?"

He doesn't answer. He get sfrustrated at how slow Ja.son is. Hurry up. Don't stop. Let's go. The faster he's in, the faster he's out.

We walk through the doors and the whining starts. Then the crying. He turns on me. Tries to hit me. Tells me he doesn't want me. He wants to go back home. I get him to breathe. He quiets until we tell them we're here.

The crying starts all over again.

Ja.son's therapist is ready for him. He goes in. Sh.awn's distress ratchets up a bit more. "You're going to have fun," I tell him. He yells. He doesn't believe me. I don't either.

We wait for a few minutes. Finally another therapist comes to tell him that he isn't seeing his regular therapist, he's seeing his new friend from two weeks ago.

And like that it stops. He wants to go in. Doesn't shed another tear or raise his voice the entire time we're there. That one change makes a world of difference for him.

I peek over and Sh.awn is talking up a storm to his friend. They're working on a computer. I recognize he's doing some extensions and fine motor work. It makes me smile. I relax some and actually get to see what Ja.son has been doing for a change.

This is what it should be like every time.

Every single time.

My kid shouldn't have to have this kind of torment to come to a place that is supposed to help him. So I spoke to the office.

The transition has officially happened today. No more seeing the other therapist. It may mean a lot more juggling to make this happen, and maybe make us have to squeeze in another day, but it is so worth it to see him relaxed and enjoying himself.

He had been stagnant for far too long.

I can't wait to see how my boy will blossom.

~~~

I spoke to the new therapist today for a half an hour. He is wonderful--a bit quirky (he RUNS around the room as he adjusts to his sessions with the kids. hallelujah he can think as he goes!), but he listened to my input and is excited to work with my boy.

More importantly, my boy is excited to work with him.

This is going to a good, good thing I think. Maybe I don't have to hate Wednesdays anymore.

~~~

This is my 1200th post. I love that it is about something that brings me such hope! :-)