Sunday, June 6, 2010

Bright. Loud. Soft. Musical.

Not gonna lie. Preeeeety tired right now. It's 1:04 AM and little man just fell asleep. First of all, notice the peeling sticker in the pic. Okay, here's the story-

Big sister gets to town today which is fantastic (she is the love of Henry's life at this stage) and we all get very excited and probably have a little too much fun. So whether it is the laughing and running around, skipping the nap, or the many, many gummy worms, Henry gets overexcited. And can not come down.

I am not kidding. The kid can scream for days. So to avoid hotel security coming to knock on my door after many, many attempts at bedtime, I decide to let him play until he finally fell asleep. Problem is, he can not regulate by himself. So it takes until after midnight as he's "swimming" on the carpet, running into walls, and hitting me with my book for me to finally get him to lay down while I hold him tight to my chest until he's heavy with sleep.

As he's laying down, he moves my dress a little so his cheek can rest on my skin. And it occurs to me; Henry feels more. He experiences the world more. And in a twisted optimistic moment, I see it as a gift. How many artists, musicians, poets, playwrights, feel the world more deeply than the rest of us?

Henry's going to be the man who can't forget the smell of his first love's hair. Who can't stop thinking of ways to describe a sunset or a symphony. And who will probably always have very high thread count sheets.

There are all sorts of books and opinions out there regarding medicating the tortured artists of our time. While I know Henry needs therapy so he can learn to overcome some of the fear surrounding his sensory over-responsivness, I hope he will retain a part of the way he feels the world. Bright. Loud. Soft. Musical.


  1. I love how God has blessed Henry with such an intuitive and loving mother. You are remarkable, Sally. Thank you for helping us all meet this adorable child of God.

  2. Oh how much I connect with your blog. I too am the parent of a SPD child. Thank you so much for posting your stories. I finally feel that I am not alone in my struggles of endless nights and hours of screaming fits. Most people don't know or understand what having a child with SPD really goes through. They seem to be the most lovable, sweet, and trying children in the world. My son also gets remarkable therapy from a 5 member team called First Steps out of Kentucky. I can very much relate to you how great it is to hear words instead of screams. Most parents take for granted the simple things, we SPD parents learn to relish and appreciate the smallest things they do, because we know how hard it was for them to accomplish it. Just the other day my son finally figured out how to go forward on a ride on toy and how to turn a knob on a toy. His speech is improving dramtically over the past 6 weeks, but I long for the day he can say his name and I Love You Momma. Hang in there and thanks again for letting me know I am not alone:)!!