Optimism: a new definition

Quinn's on a sensory diet

We have lot of things we do when sensory-seeking Quinn gets a little out of control. He knows his options, and can choose one when he agrees that "your engine is running too fast." He can get a bear hug, joint compressions, pressure on his shoulders. We can do wheel-barrow walks or he can push a big ball up the wall.

But it turns out, which I didn't understand until this week, that we need to be doing that stuff every day - or more - to try to regulate his nervous system.

So for the last couple days we've been getting up a little earlier to add joint compressions and brushing of his arms and legs to our morning routine. Then we do the same two things again before school, and if it's a late school day he wears his compression vest for a bit while we get ready in the morning.

Funny with all this stuff: Just when you think you're doing it right, you learn you've been doing it wrong.

Live and learn.

He's a big boy now!

Quinn's brachial plexus injury has been successfully repaired, but because of the tendon transfer surgery he lost the ability to reach behind his back (that tendon was moved to give him the more critical motions of lifting and rotating his arm). He has very normal movement in most every way, but dressing has been an ongoing challenge. It's very hard for him to pull pants on and off, he's unable to navigate snaps and buttons and until very recently he wouldn't even try to pull a shirt on or off.

Through much encouragement and hard work, he has learned to use his left arm to reach around his body and straighten out his waist band. And although he always ask for help putting on his underpants and pants, I've noticed that at school he seems miraculously able to do it himself. Plus, in the last couple of weeks he has started pulling off his own shirt at night.

So this morning, I laid out his clothes on his bed and told him to get himself dressed and come out when he was ready for breakfast. Then Tom and I stood in the kitchen, waiting and listening. Crickets. But after a while, out came Quinn - fully dressed in rocket ship underpants, blue sweats and a striped blue shirt. ALL BY HIMSELF.

We were so proud and made a big, big fuss about what a big, big boy he was. The little negotiator, sensing an opportunity, made a suggestion: "You should get a prize!" Shrewd, that one.

An almost unsolicited "I love you"

I have no doubt that Quinn loves me like mad. But the darn kid just will not say it on his own. If I tell him I love him, he says the same back to me. But he's never said it without prompting.

Well, we're inching closer. Last night he was sitting on my lap after dinner and smiled at his Baba. I said, "Quinn, do you love your baba?" He said yes, and then snuggled into me and said, "You love your mama." Quinn still has some pronoun confusion and refers to himself as 'you.' So add up all those elements, and, hey, pretty good, kiddo! I'll take it!

The most awesome kid gift ever

I never would have believed it, but... it's... a ...

Chia Pet!

My aunt game Quinn one for Christmas and he loves this thing like he's never loved anything. He helped me mix up the seeds and stick them on the puppy, then he checked it every day until it started sprouting. And, oh my, what a day that was.


He keeps it watered, talks to it daily and gave it a very original name: Chia.

He also likes to look at it (and everything else, including his fingers) from veeeeeeeerrrrrry close up, thanks to a magnifying glass from his godfather.

Kinda funny, but mostly really telling

Since the first day she saw Quinn's picture, I've always said that if there were one seat in my mom's lifeboat for either her daughter or her grandson, I'm going down.

It was (sort of) a joke, but now I know it's actually true. Last night my mom dreamed that she and my dad had to enter a witness protection program because of my dad's government contract work. She wasn't that worried because, since they were leaving the house neat and taking their dog, I'd know they were okay.

When she woke up, though, she panicked. "I can't leave," she told herself. "I have Quinn!"

My baby-loving boy

I took Quinn to a mall playground today and led him through some highly over-supervised play. I was constantly nervous that he'd hit or kick someone so I was on him like the most ridiculous helicopter mom. But it really worked surprisingly well - it was the first time I've seen him engage with other kids.

However...

The only kids he showed any interest in were toddlers. Anytime a kid his own age would approach and try to talk to him, he would just stare blankly. I think his OT may be right - he doesn't know how to communicate with kids his age. But babies are awesome - they don't talk and he can lead them around like he's the Pied Piper. At one point he looked up at me all excited and said, "Mama, I am playing with the baby!"

He did lean on one baby too hard and made her cry, and later he grabbed a boy's foot which caused him to fall off a low play structure, but neither was as big a deal as it sounds. The first got him a time out and the second meant we had to leave. But I left feeling more encouraged than I have for a while. Despite what I thought, he does fully engage with kids - just not kids his age.