Humbled

As a child therapist and mother of a feisty toddler, you would think that I might have a knack for certain things like, say, getting a child to behave or engaging a child in play. Well, today, I was put to the test... not once, but twice... by two different children. 

The first humbling encounter was with a child who I have had difficulty with engaging her joint attention. I have worked with her for several weeks and have taken good mental notes regarding her interests and sensory needs. During our last session, she was all about dumping whatever she could find into water bottles, so today, I brought along a plethora of water bottles and items to stash in them. She explored the heck out of those water bottles and stirred the heck out of the water in them. She was so occupied and enamored with them that she did not look up once from them... no matter how hard I tried to find a way in to her interest. After 20 minutes, not once did our eyes meet. And I was making some very interesting noises and sound effects to try to elicit her eye contact. In desperation, taking another route, I started singing "twinkle twinkle" and massaged her legs and arms to the rhythm of the song. She didn't try to escape. So I kept singing and massaging. She sunk into a relaxed position and offered her feet for me to rub them. I kept singing, and kept rubbing. She offered her whole leg. I sang some more and then stopped. She looked at me. The first time in 30 minutes that our eyes connected. I kept singing. She kept looking. I took her feet and pressed them against my cheeks. She giggled, still looking in my eyes. I backed away playfully. She drew her feet up against my hands and pushed, still smiling. We were now playing a game- her game. We did this several times, back and forth. Our eyes connected for several minutes. She could care less about the water bottles. All she wanted was some good ole' fashioned human touch. And that was the way in.

I felt good leaving that session as I drove to pick my child up from church daycare, where I was confronted with my second humbling episode of the day. Prior to today, my child, at a whoppin' 18 months old, has been issued 3 incidents reports there, twice for biting (the pastor's child), and once for scratching (after I prep'd her not to bite... guess she listened). Today, to my disgruntlement, my child, who must know what I do for a living, was issued not one but TWO incident reports for scratching two different children. Gulp. You could imagine how my "feelin' good" bubble instantly deflated when I saw two yellow slips waiting for me at the counter. Just as I thought I found the ticket of engagement through human touch, my own child took that human touch to a whole new level- scratching the pastor's kid. Why does it always have to be the pastor's kid? Hope I can turn this around before the pastor learns what I do for a living!

I love my job.

So, I am no expert, but I can say that some successes that I have had working with kids can be measured not just developmentally and emotionally, but also through some good ol' fashioned humor. The more ridiculous the moment, the more likely an indication of progress (well, not all the time... though I dare you to think of it this way). This was one of those moments. 

You know the "two of 'ems" kid I spoke of in the previous post (the best and only post I've ever written)? Well, on our very last session, as we were saying our tearful goodbyes (tearful on my part, at least), and awkwardly leaning in for a goodbye hug (again, mostly awkward on my part), this kiddo, whose head reached the height of my armpit, decided that I did not smell so pleasant. In a matter-of-fact way, he took my hand and led me to his parent's bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, and retrieved his father's deodorant (I guess his mother's was not powerful enough for this stench). I couldn't help it- my tears of sadness were now tears of slap-happy laughter. He concluded from my response that his gesture must somehow be funny, and he, too, started laughing hysterically. There we were- one smelly therapist and one helpful child- sealing the chapter of an unexpected rich bond we had developed over the years. Our first session, by the way, was a whoppin' 2 hours of me chasing him through his apartment complex. I guess its appropriate that our time together ended with him chasing me down with his dad's deodorant! I should've taken the hint the first day!

Why "two of 'ems" makes me smile

Mothers, fathers, teachers, and pretty much anyone who spends a lot of time with kids tend to hear some really funny stuff. I spent some prized years of my grad school days working as a Floor Time specialist with children on the Autism spectrum, and loved every minute of it... which is partially why I decided to start blogging. I still am unsure of what the purpose of this blog is, other than to put down on virtual paper what inspires me. And this is the sort of thing that inspires me... One of the kiddos who I worked with had a knack for coming up with the best expressions. The one that stuck with me the longest was, "two of 'ems." This response would play out in any of the following dialogues:

Me- "I see a bird in the sky... do you see it?"

Kiddo- "Look- there's two of 'ems!"

Me- "Do you want one jelly bean or two?"

Kiddo- "Give me two of 'ems."

Me- "Next week, (another therapist) is coming to play with us."

Kiddo- "Two of 'ems are comin'?!" (my personal favorite)

Four years now, I cannot be presented with the option of two of anything without thinking, "two of 'ems," and I can't help but smile, hence the name (and personality) of this blog. And please- feel free to share some of your "two of 'ems" moments or tidbits.