Best news ever

I've had a burning question since January that was finally answered in a happy way today. Gavin has been accepted to District 20's Colorado Preschool Program!  This is a truly incredible opportunity for Gavin, and I am certain is the perfect place for him to begin his scholastic experience.  With teachers who are trained to understand and manage sensory disorders, Gavin will have the best chance for success in a classroom setting.  I firmly believe that his preschool years will be a defining time in his life, ones that will help him develop the skills he needs not only for school functionality, but for success in life in general.  I could not be more thrilled.

It is amazing to ponder the miraculous way that this blessing has unfolded.  From the sweet friend who initially set us on the path (you're the best, Sunny!) to the insurance denial that led to exploring district services, from the pediatrician's perfect letter of advocacy to quiet moments of inspiration for me at the kitchen table, from occupational therapy to formal preschool evaluation, it is clear that Heavenly Father's hand has been in all of the details.  I have certainly had moments of fear and doubt along the way.  The last few months have definitely been frustrating at times.  But today, as I sobbed my way through a prayer of thanks, I had the strong reassurance that Heavenly Father knows my name--and he knows what my little boy needs.  That may be the greatest blessing of all.

Highs and lows

I hate feeling helpless, but for the third time in as many days that was the feeling that overwhelmed me as I stood on the pool deck and watched Gavin struggle.  It turns out that he HATES swimming lessons.  Classes on Monday and Tuesday were pretty awful.  Gavin refused to participate in almost every exercise, screamed and cried when it was his turn with the teacher, and sat on the edge shivering during most of his lessons.  I have been surprised and confused and totally unable to help him work through his intense emotions.  My little fish, the kid who loves to jump into the deep end, dive for rings, and put his head "under the sea," wouldn't put a toe in the water today.  That was the end.

So, after creating a spectacle that left onlookers gawking and commenting, Gavin, Lexi, and I spent swimming lesson time in the van, recovering from our disappointment and collecting our wits.  And then I walked back in and withdrew Gavin from his class for this session and next.  I know it's not the end of the world to drop out of swimming lessons.  Kids and their parents do this kind of thing every day.  But today it feels huge.  Most people don't understand why, and that's okay.  

After swimming lessons, we went home.  Gavin and I cried for a while.  Folding laundry and ironing church pants helped me calm down a little (isn't that weird?).  And then we went to the park.  Gavin immediately ran to the monkey bars.  He always wants to cross them but is never tall enough to reach.  At this park, though, he could mount and cross them all on his own!  He was thrilled, and he crossed them again and again.  As I snapped a few pictures, the nearby parents commented openly about how nervous he made them.  I was thrilled at his success.  Again, most people don't understand, and that's okay.

I don't know much, and lately, I don't even feel like I know my own kid.  But I guess with each passing day--and each harrowing experience--I learn a little bit more, and that's the best I can do.

OT: 2

I didn't set out to document every one of Gavin's OT sessions, but they are just so fascinating!  It is nice for me to note Gavin's progress.  Sometimes the smallest victories keep us going from day to day.

I wasn't sure how Gavin would do today.  His siblings were lucky enough to go swimming with friends this morning, so dropping them off at the pool brought Gavin great disappointment.  Although he had been excited to visit Miss Dana at her gym before that, he was so upset in the moments leading up to his appointment.  I did promise an ice cream date after his session, but the thing that calmed him down was wearing goggles and doing joint compressions when we sat down in the office.  He skipped right in when Dana called for him.

Today's session was less fun and more work.  I suppose we should have expected that transition.  Dana had lots of information to share with me, and Gavin wasn't as thrilled with the solo activities she provided for him while we talked.

But there was this fabulous swing, which Gavin is still raving about.  I can't remember its official name, but using it showed that Gavin has strong arms, good balance, and good core strength.  Mostly he thought it was lots of fun!  (And I asked permission to take a picture.)

Gavin spent the rest of the time doing some fine motor work at the table.  I need to spend lots of time with him on proper crayon and scissor grip, cutting lines, and tracing.  Dana suggested that threading beads, playing with nuts and bolts, and any other activities that strengthened his dexterity would be helpful.  I have always thought that Gavin had excellent dexterity, but apparently being able to open medicine bottles, cabinet latches, and door locks; untying knotted shoelaces; and working car seat buckles doesn't count.  She also encouraged me to engage Gavin in "messy play" experiences.  For all the messes he makes, Gavin really doesn't like having dirty hands.  Dana suggested that overcoming that issue might calm down his "tacticle defensiveness," the practical application of which would mean less laundry for me, since Gavin changes his clothes if one speck of water, dirt, food, etc. gets on them.

One happy improvement was at the end of Gavin's visit, when he got to choose two stickers.  Last time this was an incredibly laborious process, but today he quickly picked two and moved on.  Hooray!  Gavin and I enjoyed some YoYogurt on the way home.  He chose to add gummy bears and sour worms to his cake-batter-and-cookie-flavored yogurt.  Yum!(?)

I am currently devouring The Out-of-Sync Child, which by all accounts is the Bible of sensory dysfunction.  I am nearly through the diagnostic chapters and looking forward to the strategy section.  Dana sent home a few handouts, too, including one about the Wilbarger brushing protocol.  Will this help?  Who knows!  I am feeling pretty overwhelmed with it all today, but it does feel good to have hope on the horizon.

OT

Gavin attended his first Occupational Therapy session yesterday.  He was thrilled to go since he had so much fun at his evaluation in April.  Because the therapist who evaluated him had a full schedule, Gavin will meet with a different lady on Fridays.  After 75 minutes with Dana yesterday, I am quite content with this arrangement.  She seems terrific, and she and Gavin connected well.

I felt a little awkward doing my usual photo documentation routine on the first visit, so I just observed and took notes.  The whole therapy process was quite fascinating, and although I don't understand all of the details that will roll out over the next few months, I am confident that OT is going to provide important skills for both Gavin and me.

Gavin's first session was all about assessing his physical strength and response to gross motor activities.  He had a fabulous time playing in the ball pit, walking on his hands like a wheelbarrow, swinging from a (low) trapeze and falling onto a crash pad, and riding and spinning on a platform swing.  He was SO happy!  Watching Dana work with him gave me ideas for activities at home, and Dana also instructed me on ways to help meet Gavin's sensory needs with joint compression and heavy pressure.

Near the end of the session, Gavin's impulsive nature took over and he jumped into the ball pit without asking.  Dana reminded him that there was only one rule in her gym, and she prodded him to articulate it.  The rule: ask before using the equipment.  Gavin knew the rule, and he knew he had broken it, but his response was unlike anything I had seen him do before.  Instead of screaming or throwing a fit, he was completely silent.  He hung his head and leaned against the wall.  After five minutes of encouragement, Gavin finally followed Dana to a mat on the floor, but he still wouldn't speak.  She talked to him and did gentle joint compressions on all of his limbs and hips and head.  He was so calm, but clearly felt badly about breaking the rule.  Gavin didn't get to do any more fun activities during the session (time was up), but I think that experience made a lasting impression!

I have a thick packet of reading material to study before our next session, and I'm also hoping to find some books to read that will help me better understand Gavin's needs.  We only have 19 insurance-covered therapy sessions (and without insurance they are $350 each!), so I want to ask as many questions as I can while I have face time with a therapist.  And, to be realistic, I'd better study up while Baby Girl is happy and quiet.  This should be quite a journey for all of us.