Life With a Sensory Kiddo

There are secret fears that nag at a mother's heart. It's inevitable. When you've helped create this small being, or chosen them to be your own, you have opened up your heart to a world of joys and fears, triumphs and sorrows. I think parents always have a running dialogue in the back of their minds as they watch their child develop. Is this normal? How are they doing? Is this quirky behavior, or is it something more? Is this a phase?

I am a proud mom to two beautiful children. My precocious, logical daughter, who is never without a book and an observation, is now 8. After a week spent in the NICU after her birth, life and growth have sped right along for her. I also have a superhero in my family who is quite passionate about the difference between good guys and bad guys. He turned 6 in January. It is my superhero that I would like to discuss.

When he was two, we started noticing some behaviors that we thought were just quirks. They were funny, and made us chuckle, and of course, love him even more. His sister got new shoes for Christmas which he immediately took and put on his feet. Even the silver sparkly ones. He wore them ALL the time...at night we would walk in his room and remove them as he slept. We figured it was a phase he would outgrow.

Other quirks began to show up when he turned three. He would only wear khakis, he never wanted to wear shorts, even in the summer in Texas, and he always, ALWAYS had to wear shoes. I remember watching him around his peers at preschool, thinking something was just off. In the back of my heart I felt questions trying to surface that I was not ready to face.

It was in the spring just before his four year check up it became apparent that something might be going on with him. He began to smear, um, pooh, on the walls and into the carpet. I tried talking to him, I tried pleading...asking other moms if their sons were doing things like this. I knew. In my heart, I knew there was something else going on. After the third day in a row of him smearing stuff into the carpet, I remember being on my knees scrubbing it clean, and fear overwhelmed me. I sobbed as I realized out loud, Something is wrong with my son.

I have said it before, and I will say it again: Nothing on earth is as heavy as a mother's heart. When you see an area where your child is delayed, where they aren't thriving, the instinct to protect has a way of forcing you to ask the questions you fear. It pushes you to acknowledge their differences and to take action. You willingly accept the role as an advocate for your child and begin the process of figuring out what is going on and what there is to do about it. My next post will show the beginning of our journey into life with a Super-Sensory-Hero.