Our Sensory Techniques

This is the concluding post on the Sensory Processing Journey:

After the initial fear and shock of understanding what was going on with our son, I tried to educate myself as much as possible on what he might be experiencing and how a sensory disorder might make things more challenging for him.  It's taken a while for me to create an example, but I think I've come up with a way to describe what things might be like for him.

Imagine your body as a snow globe. Now put yourself in a situation where your senses are bombarded from all directions.  For me, I imagine myself shopping at Target during the Christmas season.  I picture the smell of the popcorn, of other people's perfumes/colognes/lotions, the heat of the store, the flashing lights of the electronics department, the colors and sounds of the toys...you get the idea.  Just thinking about it makes me feel frustrated. In that situation, my snow globe has been shaken, and my senses are responding like the million bits of snow swirling in a frenzy of reaction. For most of us, we have coping mechanisms for when things are beginning to overwhelm us.  You might not even realize you are doing it.  I take a deep breath and walk over to a vacant corner of the store to let things calm down.

Now imagine that scene through the body of a sensory kid.  It doesn't take nearly as much for their bodies to be thrown into the flurry of snowflakes.  Something as small as the tag on the inside of their t-shirt could already have their snowflakes in a tizzy.  The problem comes from the fact that they might be unfamiliar with the coping techniques needed to get their snow to settle down into a nice calm again.  When those techniques aren't utilized, a full fledged meltdown is on the way.

The job of an OT is to help those kids learn the coping mechanisms they need to help their bodies process sensory input in a way that isn't overwhelming.  We do jumping and crashing at our house.  My son will jump on either an exercise ball or my bed (he's not too big yet) with me holding his hands.  He will count his jumps before crashing into a pile of pillows.  We then get a pillow and squish him.  All I am doing is applying deep pressure to him.  He loves it.  I can not tell you, if you have not experienced it, the difference jumping and crashing makes for my son.  Night and day.  We go from meltdown mode to manageable calm within minutes. It is amazing.

Of course there are situations where jumping and crashing isn't an option.  If we go to a baseball game, or other situation where noise will be a problem, we make sure to pack a small MP3 player for him to retreat to when the crowd is too overwhelming. It calms him instantly.

One of the biggest challenges for us is food.  Most parents of sensory kids know the struggle of mealtime.  As a mom, I want to make the most of my family's meals.  I want to nourish them, to help give their bodies the chance to reap the benefits of a balanced meal.  How do you do that when the texture of certain foods literally makes your sensory kid gag? We brought the issue up with our interim OT when our usual one was out on maternity leave.  He spent the next couple of months playing with food and trying new things.  At the end of their session my son had decided that green beans weren't too bad.  And the heavens rejoiced.

I let my son take the lead on how his food is arranged.  I let him tell me where to put things, and we let him use a plate with separate compartments when he wants to.  He doesn't want some foods to touch each other. I don't mind this.  I also let him decide how to assemble his food.  Does he want marinara sauce on top of his pasta or beside it? We've found that giving him more control of his plate makes mealtime more successful.  That doesn't mean we are experts in the field by any means.  I still get frustrated knowing that at certain meals, there is nothing he will really eat. I do try to always have yogurt and some kind of fruit to go with his meals just so I know he is getting something good out of it. It is still very much a work in progress with us.

We've also been very careful to limit sugar intake.  We could most likely all stand to do this, but for a sensory kid, sugar overload gets messy. I also try to avoid artificial flavors and colors. Red #40 in particular has been shown to increase behavior issues in children. Why add more fuel to the fire?

If I could just add one more thing, it would be to please be patient with others.  Please don't assume that the kid bouncing in the library and speaking loudly is anything less than amazing.  A child having a meltdown isn't just a spoiled brat not getting their way.  Mom and Dad, or other caregivers, aren't just enabling nor doing a poor job just because their child is loud or seemingly out of control.  Give some grace.  We have no idea what the other person is going through, so let's not just assume the negative about each other. Sometimes even doing the best we can is still loud and messy.

I am immensely thankful to our OT for helping us understand my son's quirks and differences.  I used to think that SPD was a life sentence for him, and honestly, there will be some situations that will most likely always be a challenge for him.  But we now have the knowledge of how to either prevent situations that are too overwhelming, or the techniques to help alleviate some of the chaos inside him.  Some days, I confess, leave me so tired. When it's a bad sensory day, it can be so difficult to pull out of the tailspin.  I doubt myself as a mom, doubt that I am doing all I can for him.  But then I stop and think about just HOW FAR WE'VE COME, and we jump and crash. And we chew some gum. And we just keep exploring this amazing journey together.

Here is a short video that gives a quick explanation of SPD:

http://youtu.be/6O6Cm0WxEZA

The Journey into SPD

I still vividly remember the day we went in for an annual checkup. My son had a thing about squeezing his arms and, of course, they checked his blood pressure for the first time that day. It undid him. So the rest of his appointment was spent trying to console him and get him to calm back down. The doctor was making friendly banter with the kids...Will I find Cookie Monster in your ear? It works. They laugh. But, when we mentioned some of our concerns with our son, you could actually see the shift in her demeanor as she went straight into doctor mode. A litany of questions followed. The two that I most remember:

-Do tags on his shirt bother him? (Yes.)

-Does he like so snuggle/hug? (Only with me.)

She gave us a referral to see an Occupational Therapist so they could observe him. I left the office feeling more afraid than when we got there. The doctor had just confirmed my fear. There was something different about him that we needed to address.

We had an appointment with an OT at Our Children's House. I have to admit, I was even more afraid when we got there. I felt completely out of my element as I wondered what in the world we were doing here. We were surrounded by children in wheelchairs that couldn't move, some that could barely speak, and some that had various tubes still attached to them. I had NO idea what an OT did, and even less of an idea as to what she might do for us.

Our OT was a woman about my age named Brooke. I am so thankful to have met her and can not imagine a better fit for our family. She observed him for almost an hour and a half, making notes, doing small tests with him. We were still so new to this world, we had no idea what all she was looking for.

At the end of his evaluation, she pulled us into a room and told us that she was noticing some definite sensory behavior and that we would get our evaluation in the following weeks. We did leave that day with a name: Sensory Processing Disorder. I felt shell shocked, still not knowing what was going on and what this meant for my son's development.

When the evaluation finally came, it was so very hard to read it. He was significantly behind in fine motor development. He was four at the time, but had the coordination of a two year old in some areas. It was looking at that paper that broke my heart. What would that mean for the long run? Would he always have challenges? What would that mean for school? My husband has an amazing way of calming me down. He looked at the evaluation as a set of areas where we need to improve, whereas I saw it as everything my child lacked.

At this point we still didn't really know what was going on and what Occupational Therapy would do for him. But we committed to going back and soon began our journey into finding out all we could about Sensory Processing Disorder. I'll continue to share more about our discoveries, challenges, and victories as we made our way into that world.

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.