Occupational Monday

Last week I was assigned the task of giving the little guy hard work sessions every two hours and report back to the therapist what effects this had. My husband began to laugh at me as the week wore on. "What hard work are you going to pull him from to do your hard work?"

Sadly that seemed to be the case. He would be jumping on his trampoline or my bed and I would pull him away to play with cars on all fours, using one arm to bare his weight. When he was climbing cabinets and furniture, I would come to move him to the task of playing with wet sand. I would stop his running from one end of the house to the other and have him push or pull laundry baskets.

Some times I could see more contentment, most times I just saw fuel added to the fire. He would finish one heavy work task just to begin one on his own.

Today when the appointment time came creeping up I made sure to be there only 5 minutes till. The therapist was still 15 minutes late coming out so insanity ensued. Most of the twenty minutes in the waiting room was spent with Connor trying to run through the building, not wanting to comply with instructions. I was getting tired of my own voice as he lay on the floor (his tactic to not be moved or have to hold my hand) and I would say "OK, I am going to help you up. One, two, three."

When she comes out he is happy to take her hand and go with her, until he finds out we are going to the same room as last week and not to the gym. We have to force him in and as she sits in front of the door barring escape, he flies in to a meltdown taking the pop-up tent with him. He is usually one to recover from his meltdowns quickly but this one lasts awhile. The therapist goes to get weighted balls and a weighted blanket.

He has managed to enclosed himself inside the pop-up tent that he has collapsed. Throwing the weighted blanket over him she assumes he is wiped. I assure her he is only getting his second wind and will attend to the toys she brought in momentarily. He isn't one to get wiped out by a meltdown but to either recover and do the task at hand or to be fueled by it.

He doesn't make a liar out of me. He gets up and starts to play with the medicine balls and chew on the handle of the rideable bouncy ball. Not being the center of my attention at the moment he decides to let me in on the fun and throws the 5 - 7lbs balls at me as I review the week with his therapist. I play with him as we talk and let him climb on me and encourage him to carry the balls as we talk.

I let her know that the results were varied which I didn't expect after being very faithful to the every two hours. I also let her in on my husbands joke that our little guy is always doing hard work. We go over the week and the results and as we do I clue in to the problem as quickly as she does. The times his hard work only involved his legs or short movements he was stimulated by it, when he was using his upper body to push, pull, or lift he got the desired effect of the hard work and was more content and attentive.

As we rejoice in our new found discovery, Connor lies down behind me and reaching up my shirt starts to rub the small of my back. This boy that has not taken a nap in so very long was shortly snoring behind me with the occasional twitch of the leg or foot.

"He doesn't have much endurance. As we continue the hard work that will get better." She explains.
"If I hadn't just seen that I would have questioned you about the endurance." I guess she knows a little bit about this occupational stuff after all.