In my last update I told you all how Matthew had responded so well to his song bag that we were set another challenge of getting him to engage without the use of songs/ singing.
It definitely was a challenge but we knew what we had only one thing to work with, Matthews love of playing with balls. Other than his songs, this is the only thing that really grabs his attention, and in all honesty the only toy he has the time of day for.
So his dad set out to make a game out of Matthew giving dad his ball, dad saying “Ready, one, two three”… all the while Matthew has to maintain eye contact and wait patiently for his dad to spin the ball.
As reported in my last post about this, it was a success, and I’m happy to say we have been able to maintain this with lots of hard-work and concentration from my boy.
So I should be happy shouldn’t I?
But I am so far from it.
All I feel right now is frustration. Total and utter frustration.
It all seems to be moving at such a slow pace, and even though I am fully aware that there are no overnight miracles, I just feel like we are hardly any further than we were away at the beginning of this journey.
And the worst part is that I feel so selfish for feeling this way.
I’m not stupid.. I know how hard this has been for my son… And I know how hard he works at the tasks and challenges we give him.
I just wish it wasn’t so complicated and so drawn out.
I was out with my family today and we took Matthew and his big cousin to our local Soft-play, a place Matthew generally hasn’t been a fan of in the past, but I thought we’d give it another try.
Fortunately, my boy handled the environment so much better than he had before, opting to play in a corner by himself of course, but unfazed by the noise and hoards of sweating, screaming children around him.
I find that as long as he has a little corner in any room hes in, he can contain his anxiety and generally doesn’t notice anything going on around about him.
I was so proud. This was such a big deal, and I know these milestones are very worthy of that pride.
But that lovely, warm feeling in my tummy dispersed quickly when I saw (and heard) a little toddler chatting to his mum. He was younger than Matthew and he was asking his mum for “a drink”… and then if he could “get a snack”… and finally the killer blow… he gripped onto her and said “love you mummy”.
It was like taking a bullet to the heart.
And of course this was followed with unwanted irrational thoughts and questions that started whirling around in my head.
“Is he just much more intelligent than Matthew!?”
“Are we doing something to hinder his development!?”
“Will he ever speak!?”
“What if he never speaks!?”
I was so disappointed with myself for thinking it, and for dismissing the amazingly prideful moment my boy had given me.
But, being honest with myself, I am so scared that we won’t ever reach those bigger milestones. That I won’t ever hear him tell me he loves me. It hurts my heart to even type those words.
How do I get over this… What do I do???