A First

The boy who doesn't like loud noises went into the hurricane simulator.

Photo by Steve Scott

Hittin' the Road: New Yawk

"City of hurried and sparkling waters! City of spires and masts!
City nested in bays! My city!" - Walt Whitman (Mannahatta)


















Satch made this drawing for one of his chums yesterday. I love the detail...the reflection of the buildings in NY Harbor, Lady Liberty, trees dwarfed by skyscrapers, pigeons, a helicopter, a taxi, sidewalks and bridges. He even drew our Echo!

We're off to New Yawk to see family and friends. I thought you might like to know what I've picked up to keep Satch amused during the road trip.



Peel & Stick Mozaic by Numbers by Lauri...GREAT for fine motor skills! The foam tiles are very small so this will kill a LOT of time!




Tangoes People Puzzles...Satch LOVES Tangoes puzzles. Tangoes are based on Chinese Tangrams, a geometric puzzle consisting of seven pieces. Travel Tangoes are smaller, magnetic so it's perfect for the car!


More about Tangoes here!

Roger Burrows Images! Geometric patterns for coloring. Altair designs were created to stimulate the visual imagination. You might see familiar images, or abstract patterns. You can color them any way you choose, it's limitless! Another gem for fine motor skills.

More about Roger Burrows Images here! AND Fractiles comes in a travel version that we love!


*We use Crayola Pip-Squeak Skinnies markers on the road because they are small and promote correct pencil grip.

Satch has Sensory Processing Disorder and needs gum in the car in order to settle himself. We keep a stash of B-Fresh Bubble Gum in the back seat. It does not contain any preservatives and is sweetened with Xylitol. Other sugarless gums make Satch bonkers because of the artificial sweeteners.

Lollipops are also soothing for Satch during long trips. We usually opt for natural pops made with juice, but Satch has been begging to try a Ring Pop because he says, "It's like a marrying ring except it's bigger AND you can EAT it!"

He pleads a good case, so I got him one, but will save it for when we're near our destination so he can run around and burn off the sugar. (As for my car munchies, I go hardcore...Salazon organic salted chocolate, and the Great Robinsky can't get behind the wheel without Werther's.)

When all else fails, we break out the DVD player. I borrowed Legend of the Guardians from Chicken Run our local library, and a back-up just in case... Fantastic Mr. Fox.

I think we're ready to roll. See you in two weeks!

A Lot Like Love

"We danced too wild, and we sang too long, and we hugged too hard, and we kissed too sweet, and howled just as loud as we wanted to howl, because by now we were all old enough to know that what looks like crazy on an ordinary day looks a lot like love if you catch it in the moonlight."~Pearl Cleage

This is me at the end of an ordinary day as I try to find my equilibrium on the predictably unpredictable roller coaster ride that is mothering a son with SPD. So few people know about SPD nor how it affects the behavior of the children who have it.

Even though Satch has done remarkably well and has been discharged from occupational therapy, the part of the brain that controls the way he receives data is still playing catch-up. He still senses things differently than the rest of us and thus behaves differently than one would expect in some situations. It's painful to witness my beautiful son continue to struggle with finding a way to fit in this world. He struggles to focus, struggles to remember boundaries, struggles to understand body language, struggles to remember the rules of conduct.

It's painful to watch him act the fool because in his mind, laughter is good, laughter means happiness. He struggles to understand when laughter is appropriate and when it's not. I once saw him drop trou because the child he was playing with was terribly upset and crying and it caused him such anxiety that he was willing to do anything to make her laugh, to make her "happy". Laughter = Happy in his world. It took some work to help him understand that his friend was entitled to her sad feelings and that it is not his job to make everyone laugh. I explained that sometimes just listening and being present for sad feelings is the best gift we can give. (Satch has an aversion to hugging anyone other than his family because of his sensory issues, so offering a hug is out of the question for him).

It seems that no matter how many times I explain things, no matter the consequences, the message is not retained. He still gets his wires crossed, so to speak. Satch describes it as feeling like "his gears get stuck". The bottom line is that he is like a spirited impulsive toddler living in a 5 year old body with an intellect more than twice his physical age. We guide our toddlers with grace knowing that they will outgrow certain behaviors, and impulsivity. It's hard not to have greater expectations from such an articulate and intelligent 5 year old.

What my son needs is simply the grace of time. I have to remind myself continuously, and try not to get wrung out by emotion when he is misunderstood.

He can be perceived as bossy or controlling and this is true on the surface, but beneath that is the reality that he is so confused by all the data that the rest of us so naturally process, he struggles to maintain his own sense of balance and grapples for things that he can control. Imagine how powerless you would feel if you were at a business convention and everyone there seemed to know what was going on, what to do, where to go, and how to act. Imagine that you kept getting lost, kept doing things wrong, and made people angry because you didn't get the memo. That is what it's like for my son - he didn't get the memo - and he goes through all the same emotions that we would in trying to deal with that. He gets embarrassed, he pretends it doesn't bother him, he gets angry at himself, he gets angry at the world. He struggles and it hurts. He's not misbehaving, he's misunderstanding.

There are times when I think that I lack the patience and fortitude it takes to mother him the way he deserves and then after the whirlpool of emotions rips me wide open, I come full circle into knowing that I have more patience than I give myself credit for, that I'm stronger than I know, that my capacity for love and understanding grows in direct relation to the extent I feel depleted.

I trust that my boy who is disruptively uncomfortable in groups will grow to be the man who prefers to spend time with his family and close friends rather than at a party or at noisy crowded events. My boy who tries to ignite laughter at inappropriate times will grow to be the man who skillfully uses humor to diffuse difficult situations. My boy whose senses are so heightened that he perceives the world around him differently, more slowly than others will grow into a man who has fine tuned his perceptions in a way that can only be seen as a gift .

She's Got Skills!

"How did she get those coins under your pillow without waking you?"
"She's got SKILLS!", he exclaimed.

Satch had an exciting holiday weekend. When I picked him up from the meadow on Wednesday, he showed me that his wobbly tooth was EXTREMELY wobbly. He kept his composure while at the meadow, but the moment he sat in the car, he lost it.

Satch struggles with transitions, including those that are celebrated by most. We've read books about losing teeth and the various traditions around the world. We even made a fairy door in anticipation of this day, but Satch is really having a hard time with this.

Once home, we played some games in a feeble attempt to take his mind off his tooth, a few rounds of Go-Fish, Animal Rummy and a memory game called, "I Never Forget a Face" wherein the child from Scotland just so happens to be missing a front tooth.

After about 2 hours, I was feeling a tad frayed and just wanted it over with. I thought perhaps if the tooth were finally out, the teetering-tooth-tirade would end. I handed him a fruit twist. Naturally his tooth fell right out.  Instead of being relieved, or excited, Satch went ballistic..."THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE" he screamed on continuous loop.










Once he calmed down a smidge, we went upstairs to hang the fairy door....

We bought the door here!
Paint: Glidden testers in Robin's Egg blue and Marshmallow white.

He chose to hang it above our family bed. Before we stuck it to the wall, I wrote the date on the back with a black Sharpie and explained, "One day, you can do this for your children and write the date they lost their first tooth on this door, and even your grandchildren". This seemed to lift his spirits. You see, if you ask Satch what he wants to be when he grows up, he'll reply, "I want to be a Dad...I want 3 children...and I want to be with my family". I believe the thought of this wee door being passed down through generations helped settle his mood some. I snapped this photo of him on the way to pick up his daddy at the bus stop.

Satch woke up 'round 2 in the morning and discovered that tooth fairy came, and brought 2 dollars in quarters. He was so excited that he had a hard time sleeping thereafter. When he finally went back to sleep, I threw in the towel and got up at 4 am. Satch padded downstairs at 6 am excitedly recounting the predawn visit from the tooth fairy.

We spent a relaxing Thanksgiving at home this year, just the 3 of us, rather than driving back to NY. We had a crackling fire. We ate roasted Tofurkey with gravy, stuffed acorn squash, cranberry sauce and spinach tartlets. The boys made pumpkin pie for dessert. We noticed that our neighbor was home alone so we fixed her a plate.

The following day we went to Town Center and sipped hot cocoa curbside while the holiday parade marched by - a one hour festive romp perfectly timed so the lunch crowd could flock to the eateries for a post parade nosh and shoppers could hit the Black Friday sales.

 We returned home to recharge with left-over holiday feast before returning after sundown for the tree lighting ceremony and our first skate of the season. Satchel's first skate EVER!

The Dawn Has Secrets

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don't go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don't go back to sleep. - Rumi

The morning we brought up the sun marked another new beginning. It was the day you discovered your first loose tooth. You came barging into the bathroom while I was showering (picked the lock again) and crumpled into a heap of tears on the other side of the curtain.

I poke my head out and you lament, "I have a wobbly toooooooth...I think I broke it on a Lego!"

I smile and say, "It's not broken...you may be getting your new teeth...it means that the Tooth Fairy is coming".

Transitions can be difficult for you, newness can be unnerving...it's hard to predict which path you'll choose, joy or otherwise.

"But it's HORRIBLE!"
"But I don't want my teeth to fall out!"
"But I don't want new teeth!"
"But I don't want anything to change!"
"But I like everything just the way it is!"

We take you a local diner for breakfast to celebrate this rite of passage, your face still showing signs of earlier upset. When you cry your nose and forehead develop little red patches that linger for a spell after you've calmed down.

After breakfast you spot a gumball machine. First loose tooth - first piece of bubble gum. (Why not?)

"PINK!", you say, and I explain that you can't pick which color you get.

You open the silver door and a pink gumball rolls into your palm.






















"Isn't that amazing", you say, "you tell the machine which color you want and you get it". You bite it in half and we share it.






















At bedtime we read stories about wobbly teeth and we talked about creating a small door to make it easier for the Tooth Fairy. That night you wake me many times, as you often do during transitions. I have learned, during 5 1/2 years of being your mom, to roll with it. After you settle down to begin your dreams, I cannot go back to sleep. I begin my soft morning descent at 3:30 AM, dreaming with eyes open, wondering how I'll weather this long day. I rest my face into my bewooled hands and for one brief second I believe I smell my cat's fur.

Bless This Year

"Never harm
Nor spell nor charm" - William Shakespeare

We bless this year for all we learned,
for all that we loved and lost...

Nothing is ever easy or simple in the lives of those affected by SPD. Even fun things like Halloween can pose challenges you've never dreamed of. Now that S is somewhat over his SPD tactile defensiveness, I was curious to see how he would respond to gutting a pumpkin - he still won't touch the goop. "It's yucky", he said. I, on the other hand, rather like squishing it, though the coldness turns my fingers white and stiff.

S wanted to make a cat pumpkin in honor of our amazing cat whom we deeply miss. Represent! It's Samhain, after all, time to celebrate the lives of those who have crossed over.

Our giant bird silhouettes were a huge hit (top photo) with the neighborhood kids, especially the gang that plays in our home and is familiar with all the birds nests that don our mantel and S's nature shelf.

A witches broom on the door to honor our soul sisters of the 1600s who suffered a horrific fate at the hands of ignorance and hysteria. Again, Represent!

I hid a boombox under a pile of leaves so that when the children approached our cauldron full of candy, they would be serenaded by the soulful sisters of Rising Appalachia - "Sandy Boys" on continuous loop, flickering paper lanterns lining our walk, and pumpkins aglow.

S seemed to tolerate the Halloween costume a bit better this year, though he did want to take it off several times. I said nonchalantly, "Costumes are what Halloween is all about, they're not always comfortable, but we just deal with it". So, he dealt with it. He seemed to enjoy all the compliments he received on our homemade Anglerfish masks, his favorite fish.

There were a few scary trick-or-treaters that sent S running behind a tree terrified. I asked one to remove his mask for a moment to remind S that it was just a costume. These scary costumes did not seem to bother any of his chums though.

It brought back memories of when he was 2 years old...we were at the bookstore for story time and someone was there dressed as a puppy. The sight of the giant humanoid pup sent S into a face first, duck n' cover, dive to the floor in terror. It was heartbreaking to see all the tots running over to hug the puppy character, while my son was trying to become one with carpet - petrified. I felt so badly for him.

While most kids grab their sugary loot and run, each time S approached a door, he would cautiously take one piece of candy. If there was an assortment, he took extra time to choose. Several times our neighbors encouraged him to take more than one piece. It was hard to keep up with his friends.

We kept trailing behind because S wanted to stop on the sidewalk and look at all his candy more closely. We reminded him that he could look at them afterward in the house when he would have more light. S was hoping to receive some gum. He's been obsessing about gum as he's never had it. Now that he's gotten past his SPD oral defensiveness, his brain is seeking this input. He's chewing on his sleeves, straws etc. S seems to have a subtle way of helping us help him. Like when he became fixated on a vibrating toothbrush. We bought it for him, and as it turned out it was the perfect input for his sensory diet. So, I'm thinking we should buy him some gum.

Once home, he emptied his pumpkin pail on the dining room floor and began organizing his loot. He had a difficult time deciding which piece he would eat that moment, which pieces he would keep, and which pieces he would give to the sugar fairy in exchange for a small toy. He giggled excitedly and said, "I'm rich of candy!"

Little does he know how sweet he is, and how rich my life is because of him.

Bless this year for all that we learned...

Sense of Place: Samhain

Bat (excerpt) by Bradford Morrow / Art by Satchel

"Listen to me now. We have earned this moment together. Switch off the lamp. Forget the broomstick... The pipistrel does not want to be tangled in your hair. He does not want to drink your blood. He wants to continue on his way, cutting dazzling eights through air and etching arabesques. He wants to pick mosquitoes out of the thrumming darkness, mosquitoes who do want your blood. Go to the blanket chest and get out the Hudson Bay, our family's oldest. Gather him up in that blanket, so he lies in a double darkness, warm and safe. Hold him, and know he is a living being, precise as a scientist, shy as a hermit. Take him out to the second-story porch. Set him down. Calmly open the folds of the blanket and if you are still afraid, so be it, and into the house you may run. If not, though, lie down in the warm night and wait and watch him recover his sense of place, his animal dignity. Show patience, there is a reward. He is in no hurry, knowing you do not intend to destroy him. Soon he'll stir, bringing curious life to the blanket. Then he will fly, his warm mammal blood and mammal fingers rising with him. Your mammal character may fly up, too-high, erratic, sonic, loose--and when it returns to you there on the porch, you can weave it, with the merest touch in the act of folding, into the blanket. Anyone who sleeps under the blanket thereafter will have bat-blessed dreams of the sweetest kind, dreams from which they will always awaken refreshed."

We are almost finished with Samhain preparations. Costumes are almost finished - we will be a family of Anglerfish - S's fave. I was inspired by Isabella Rossellini's hilarious and imaginative nature short films, "Green Porno". So I fished google for ideas and wouldn't you know, Martha Stewart had Isabella on her show and together they made an Anchovy mask. I used their design as the foundation for our Anglerfishes, but changed the features accordingly and added a tiny working light.

Halloween can be a challenge for S. He reacts strongly to scary stuff, me too actually. In my humble opinion, I think it's disgraceful that anyone would expose our children to horrific decorations and costumes, you know the kind I'm talking about.

S likes skeletons and skulls because the nature boy likes bones.

Costumes can be difficult for S because of his SPD. He needs to feel comfortable in it and he gets unnerved when people look at him for more than a few seconds.

The felt leaf garland that I worked on last winter now dons our mantel...

The papel picado that I made for S several years ago, sways in our dining room...





There is a cauldron on our porch, from which S and his chums have concocted mysterious potions in small glass bottles...

The centerpiece on our table, a paper mache nest that S made last Spring, now cradles the spooky paper mache eggs that we made.


Pumpkin carving to commence on Saturday at the Autumnal celebration in the meadow at S's awesome school. (Our creations from 2007, 2008, 2009)

The broom's on the door and we're ready to fly!

May your Summer's end be filled with bat-blessed dreams!

What's Worth

"You can tell what's worth a celebration because your heart will POUND and you'll feel like you're standing on top of a mountain and you'll catch your breath like you were breathing some new kind of air." - Byrd Baylor (I'm in Charge of Celebrations)

Sometimes we just need to. We need to drive to the mountains, especially in Autumn when the colors are so many. We need to stand on 1 billion year old rocks...

and watch the sun set, and celebrate the glory of it with dinner at 3,000 feet...

and feel all swirly when the sun disappears completely and the lights from the towns in the valley turn on and it looks like the stars are shining above and below and we're just floating there.

Sometimes we need to feel our hearts soar like they did at Cirque du Soleil's Ovo. Sometimes I need to watch you soak it all in, cautiously releasing your sensory related concerns that someone may touch you, hiding your face then relaxing into wide eyed awe - unfolding yourself like a leaf. Sometimes we need to celebrate wonders and unfoldings and eat veggie burgers at the National Harbor with your school chums - riotous laughter engulfing the kiddie table.

Sometimes we need a little merriment and mirth at the renaissance festival, and watch the glass artist make a goblet from a glob of melted sand and play Drench the Wench and yell HUZZAH to the talented, witty actress who made us laugh, shouting mild insults at the crowd for a dunk.

Sometimes you need to push past your SPD and ride a pony for the first time. Sometimes I need to hold my breath and wait for your expression to change from fear to joy.

















When you cheer at the joust, I cheer for you, for your closed fists opening to touch...






















and for the tilt of your head looking up at the stilt walkers...

and for saying that you can't wait to do it all again next Autumn...and for seeing you in your robot pajamas clomping around the dining room table on your green monster stilts, imagining!

You sense this world, this life more sharply than most - every sight, sound, scent, taste, touch, texture received deeply without filters. And the rest of us? We seem to sail more calmly, our perceptions dulled with our own experience and illusion of time. Perhaps we could all use a smidge of your awareness.

Earth Delights

"And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair." - Kahlil Gibran

I've noticed that my son's SPD often manifests in a need to control some situations. Sometimes it's to avoid unwanted touches, other times it's to avoid the unexpected. I notice that he misses cues about personal boundaries, hence his need to orchestrate the play. I know that as he matures, this will be a valuable leadership quality, but at present it can sometimes make play difficult. To help him (and others like him) I've been looking for more cooperative games to play with the delightful gaggle of children that visit us daily, games that require group participation and foster a sense of connection.

I was grateful to have received a review copy of Todd Strong's "Great Games For Big Activity Balls". This book contains 75 games that can be played indoors, outdoors or in the pool. The games help develop social skills, trust, cooperation, problem solving, appropriate touch and communication. In addition, the games aid in the development of perceptual, physical and motor skills. Our favorite games so far are "Orbit", "Planet Pass" and "Parachute Ball".

When played with the "Earth Ball" by Orbis, one can further illustrate the message of connectedness. The Earth Ball features realistic NASA satellite imagery. One of the coolest things about the inflatable Earth Ball is that the cities glow in the dark. Earth Ball comes in 2 sizes and includes a 20 page booklet of facts and games.

In short, it's educational, inflatable, portable FUN!


I am also had the good fortune to review "Parachute Games" by Todd Strong. It is a terrific resource for parents a/o teachers that want to engage children in cooperative play. The parachute is a useful developmental tool that allows children to explore personal behavior and social skills while offering an opportunity to improve perceptual and physical skills. Parachute play promotes cooperation and what I like most about parachute games is that everybody wins! The book includes 59 games with variations and teaching tips as well a DVD to see some of these games in action.

On a personal note, whenever I bring out our humble parachute, the wee folk go crazy. I'm always amazed by how that a colorful billowing piece of nylon induces so much joy.