Yesterday, I hauled my tired butt and two unenthusiastic kids to Riley's therapeutic horseback riding lesson. She loves it, but it's a long drive, and it's right after school so there is no decompression time. Seth is tired of being dragged along to his sister's therapies and activities. He freely admits it.
But when we arrived, another little boy sib just Seth's age was there to play with and play they did. Seth had a ball, the whole time. They were storm troopers, and they required nothing. Nothing at all from me. He got his play time and he was happy.
Riley a bit slowly and a bit awkwardly climbed up onto that mammoth horse called Banjo. The volunteer and the teacher on either side. They got her all situated atop the horse, and then off she went. I watched as they slowly walked away, their backs to me, Riley controlling that horse all by herself and I had a flashback.
Riley is four and her balance is so bad she constantly falls off the kitchen chair during meals. Riley is three, and she loses her balance and falls off the potty smacking her head on a bathroom cabinet, getting a major lump.
My throat constricts and I'm back in the present, and there is my girl, my Riley, balancing perfectly on top of a huge horse. All by herself!
I hear the teacher say, "Riley, are you smiling?"
They round the corner as she answers sweetly, "Yes."
Both kids happily get in the van and buckle themselves. She was seven before she could manage that particular task of daily living.
We listened to a CD the 40 minutes home. Darby and Kendall gave it to us. Kiddie music on social skills. Riley's arms tic away which means she's happily engaged with the music, absorbing it.
At home it's dinner with no complaints. Homework with no fussing (okay one short fuss). Easy bedtime.
A wonderful day, following a wonderful weekend.
Nothing taken for granted.
Appreciation for how far we've come.
Looking hopefully at the future.
Inability to form complete sentences.
Whatevs.
Love.
But when we arrived, another little boy sib just Seth's age was there to play with and play they did. Seth had a ball, the whole time. They were storm troopers, and they required nothing. Nothing at all from me. He got his play time and he was happy.
Riley a bit slowly and a bit awkwardly climbed up onto that mammoth horse called Banjo. The volunteer and the teacher on either side. They got her all situated atop the horse, and then off she went. I watched as they slowly walked away, their backs to me, Riley controlling that horse all by herself and I had a flashback.
Riley is four and her balance is so bad she constantly falls off the kitchen chair during meals. Riley is three, and she loses her balance and falls off the potty smacking her head on a bathroom cabinet, getting a major lump.
My throat constricts and I'm back in the present, and there is my girl, my Riley, balancing perfectly on top of a huge horse. All by herself!
I hear the teacher say, "Riley, are you smiling?"
They round the corner as she answers sweetly, "Yes."
Both kids happily get in the van and buckle themselves. She was seven before she could manage that particular task of daily living.
We listened to a CD the 40 minutes home. Darby and Kendall gave it to us. Kiddie music on social skills. Riley's arms tic away which means she's happily engaged with the music, absorbing it.
At home it's dinner with no complaints. Homework with no fussing (okay one short fuss). Easy bedtime.
A wonderful day, following a wonderful weekend.
Nothing taken for granted.
Appreciation for how far we've come.
Looking hopefully at the future.
Inability to form complete sentences.
Whatevs.
Love.
25 comments:
Beautiful. So important for all of us to look back and forward like this.
Thanks for the reminder.
I understand the wordlessness entirely.
Good times.
M'ON:
I left a tiny comment, then was horror struck to discover that evil blogger recorded me five times over.
Don't worry. No stalking or weirdness.
Just me.
And tons o' love.
Thanks for putting a smile on my face...
Ah yes, where we were, where we are now. So necessary to reflect...
Hear you on the falling off everything, walking into everything. You don't realize how BIG motor planning is until you can't do it.
Salamander was almost 9 when he finally mastered opening the car door, getting into the car, closing the car door and then buckling himself in. The number of tasks and planning involved in something that's seemingly so simple is STAGGERING.
So glad Riley is doing so well..
Wow. A+ in progress for everyone. I admire you all.
Drama,
I love you. You can stalk me any time.
xo
Nice.
I felt content just reading that, observing that moment! Lovely.
Gratitude is all.
Whatevs.
So much to be grateful for! And I know you're even grateful for your ability to be grateful!
Happy Happy Happy.
:)
I am curious as to what your Doctors and Medical professionals said about your daughters balance issues?
Ours of course just attributed it to the fact that our son was a boy. HUH?
Sadly, our doctors and medical issues were so wowwed by Riley's amazing verbal skills, they ignored just about every other sign, and flat out blew me off when I tried to explain there was a problem.
An OT was the first one to help when she was 3 1/2. She explained the balance and sensory issues and we went from there, building on what we learned from her.
God bless you Stacy!
It warms my heart to read of Riley's accomplishments!
You are so right. OT is what made the difference for our son as well.
This is lovely, Michelle. The appreciation for how far we've come - yes. Yes. And Yes.
xoxo
Glorious.
I tell you, if more people had her toughness and resilience (including me) this would be a much happier world. Riley Power. Completely inspiring.
Hey, maybe now you'll get a horse along with that dog!
Big :)
xo
So good!
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