I am not a patient woman. Waiting until the opportune time, until the stars are aligned and all of that crap has never been my strong suit. The majority of my life decisions have been the impulsive knee jerk kind. They are peppered with a devil may care attitude and a splash of let the chips fall where they may. It is a part of my personality that I am trying to change and one that I am not particularly proud of. Taking a breath and really thinking things over is a daily struggle. This combined with my desire to control the outcome has led to ruined relationships, lost friendships and multitude embarrassing choices.

Motherhood is the ultimate balancing act for my personality. Torn between pushing them into the world because I know what they could be and finding the patience to let them discover and come to terms with it for themselves. Last night I signed my oldest son up for a dance class. I had brought a close friend along with me who knew the instructor and made the introduction. I went to sign Blake up for tumbling when my friend pulled me aside and asked a question that got me thinking.

S: Is this something that you want to do? With all of the changes going on right now, would this be too much for him?

M: What do you mean? He is 5. I started signing Aiden up for activities and sports at that age. I don’t want to treat Blake any differently.

S: But he is different than Aiden. Treating them excatly the same isn\’t fair to Blake. Do you want to spend $30 a month to take him to a class at night that requires instruction? After being at school all day with all of the new changes they have for him?

I have to admit, her questions initially made me tense. My knee jerk reaction was to be defensive. I didn’t want Blake to feel like he was different in any way. I wanted him to be able to have the same type of experiences that I had given Aiden. My husband and I both grew up doing sports and staying busy. I had just made the assumption that I would give all of my kids the same opportunities. But after a minute, I realized that she was right. I hadn’t been able to raise both boys the same. What worked for one did not work for the other. They were their own little souls on their individual journeys. Treating them as if they were excatly the same wasn’t fair to either of them.

I have spent the last year scrambling between therapies and doctor appointments for my little hummingbird. Googling my brains out all while trying to find a way to connect and force life to not be quite so chaotic for him. Through all of this, there was never any talk pertaining to how he was any different than his brother. He had good days and rough days just like anyone else.

It wasn’t until I slowed down and started to really observe him in his environment that I noticed small things that I had previously thought nothing of. A motorcycle driving by, the intercom at the school, loud music playing from our neighbors or the dog barking would cause him to cringe and cover his ears. Going into Winco filled with people on a hot summer’s day usually resulted in some degree of a meltdown. The bus. Loud, lurching, screeching and smelling of stale feet. He detests the bus. So much so that on the second day of school he barricaded himself in the bathroom during a meltdown and refused to even get on the bus. It took 6 adults and myself coming to school to get him calmed down. The world can be a loud, scary and chaotic place. I can only imagine it would be more so for someone who has a sensory processing disorder.

I was so caught up in keeping things fair and not letting a diagnosis get in the way that I didn’t slow down long enough to see if he was actually ready to do everything that a brother, who is 4 years older than him, has done. I believe that one day he will do it all. Football, basketball, ballet, boy scouts, cheerleading, swim team…anything that lights his little soul on fire. One day when the world has lowered its collective volume and he is well equipped with ways to help himself when it feels out of control again. One day he will be able to go above and beyond and reach for the stars. He will do amazing things, I know this because he already does. ❤ Maybe his timeline isn’t one that I pictured during all of that swollen belly glory of late pregnancy. But it is his nonetheless. Letting him figure things out on his own is its own blend of terrifying and thrilling. While my lack of patience level can’t wait to see what he will become or what he will undoubtedly acheive, I will relish in the fact that he will need me a little while longer before he spreads his wings. When he does, watch out world. My baby is going to soar. On his own terms and in his own time.