Pushing The Envelope

Much like a wave, there are peaks and troughs to our life. Fittingly, we can have both in the same day.

Saturdays have formed into our karate/TopSoccer combo. Saturday morning is our special needs karate class  – and I continue to laud the Sensei and Sanpei who lead this class of rambunctious and precocious kids. 😉 I’m proud to say that for the past three sessions, I have not had to sit with B nor have to lead him out of class because of “extreme silliness”. That is not to say that he is the beacon of focus here; rather, he is trying to do it and I’m trying to not get involved.

TopSoccer is going pretty good. Now that B was moved into a different session – he is actually playing. Husband told me that this time, he actually played defense versus pouting on the sideline. His new buddy does a pretty good job of running him ragged, as Husband says.

So that is the “typical” part of our weekend. Now we have the other part of Saturday. The part that is not a component of our Saturday schedule.

It was our neighborhood’s annual “Block Party”. Every year, we gather in the central park as an “end of summer” sendoff. It’s quite the social event. There’s food and live music. The adults mingle (BYOB, naturally) and the kids play together. Some ride their bikes, and others throw the football around. 

You can probably see where this is going next. A group of boys (granted, many older than B) were allegedly playing “football”. Quite frankly I thought it was more rugby given how there were no plays and lots of kids were jumping onto to each other. But, I digress. They were playing and B wanted to join in.

So while Husband had his hands full (Mayita was having a “Daddy” moment) – I was hanging out on a park bench watching the kids play. You try not to hover and you try to let them learn on their own. But I always have to be on guard.

He tried to play with the group. I know he did. But, he wasn’t “catching” the signals of the game fast enough – he was a step behind. Truth be told, I was confused too. He got into one scrum and a boy threw him onto the ground (according to Husband – it was that one time I was looking away that it happened). As time went on, he got tired, which meant everything became much harder to process.

At some point both of us knew B was getting too overwhelmed. So we told him we were going home, which you know was THE WORST THING EVER. I say that in caps because B completely collapsed into a ball of chaos. Granted I say this tongue in cheek because he does have the flair for the dramatic (goes with the territory). He really wanted to stay – but with each scrum there was more of a chance that someone was going to get hurt.

Luckily I had the smarts to choose a spot that was easy to leave without too many onlookers. It still wasn’t easy – we had to pack up Mayita and our chairs and whatnot. I knew there were looks but I had to ignore them just so I can get the hell home. An hour and a half from when we got to the park when we walked into the door at home was this year’s record.

I knew it was a success that we lasted that long. You know, only last year I lamented on my jealousy. However I was still a bit, well, depressed. I didn’t get to talk to anyone (again), with exception of a couple of waves.

On my personal FB page I updated my status by acknowledging lasting the 90 minutes before the epic meltdown. And someone commented with a very worthy statement:

“God bless–and still proud if [of] B for pushing the envelope. 90 mins is awesome.”

Envelope

I “knew” that it was a milestone but I still needed someone to acknowledge it for me. To let me know that I still succeeded even when I thought we failed.

In order to move forward, we have to push the envelope. It would have been the easy (and sane) call to stay at home that night. No one would have questioned it. But sometimes we still have to face some potentially unpleasant stuff in order to break through. 

Actually, come to think of it, one thing positive happened. He wasn’t bothered by the loud music. So, hey, chalk that for a minor success.

“No Pain, No Gain” is another way to put it. Believe me, as much pain (in a metaphysical sense) as I feel sometimes, it better be worth it. 😉

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About OneLoCoMommy

I live in Northern Virginia and and I look like the stereotypical suburban mom, for better or for worse. My son plays baseball and takes karate (albeit adaptive). My daughter is a gymnastics diva but rolls with the boys in T-ball. I've been a Room Mom and Playdate Coordinator. I work full-time, try to work out, and love my Book Club. However, I also blog on my experiences on our ASD, SPD and ADHD journey while trying to be a better parent advocate. All in a life's work.
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