A boy and his doll

Today, I understood that life can be scary when you're a little guy like Henry. 

Henry has good taste. He likes the feel of cashmere, the music of Johnny Cash, the taste of Chick-fil-A. I spent too long to admit finding a drive thru chicken house to get the fried nugget goodness for the two of us today. Henry loved it. 

He loved it so much that he crammed way too much into his mouth without chewing and began to choke. Really choke. Like, life-flashing-before-my-eyes-adrenaline-rush-save-your-baby-choke. After a finger swipe (thank you 10th grade CPR) and a slap on the back, he was really scared and so was I and soon after he was quite obviously over the chicken. When kids are in a fight or flight mode of self protection (which happens with sensory over responsiveness), they lose their appetite. Another meal missed. 

Earlier in the day, Henry's therapist suggested we get him a doll to bathe so he might feel more comfortable with the tub. After determining that the Bathtime Baby Doll with pink accessories was less feminine than the purple My Little Pony Bathtime Baby, we came home from Target with a very excited little man. 

He carried, fed, bathed, changed, read to, and put to bed that baby doll about 38 times in three hours. "Caring for" his baby puts him in control and makes him seem so much less...scared. needy. worried. 

Right now, I can't figure out how to make him less scared when he chokes, or can't feel gravity like the rest of us, or sees other kids moving toward him too fast. 

But I can give a boy a doll.