Thursday, March 9, 2017

Strong Boy

 Erik is now 9 1/2.  Young, but not so little anymore.   I'm not such a tall lady myself... 5'2" on tippy toes... and my boy reaches well and truly up to my shoulder.  He's a skinny kid, and this has always worried me a little.  But our Paediatrician and family doctor both say he's well within normal range for his weight.  It is likely he is just following the genetic growth patterns of his father, (who turned out to be a solidly built 6'1" man by the time he was in his mid 20s), but when I see my sons ribs front and back it still freaks me out a little.

However, skinny doesn't necessarily mean weak!  This kid has a grip like a vice, and when he grabs my wrists to pull me over to some place in the house it can be really hard to break free.

Thus I found myself employing Krav Maga moves to release myself from his hug this morning, which was more like a headlock down in the arms of a 9 year old boy.  I just couldn't break free the usual way.  I'm constantly grateful that my son is not aggressive by nature, because even in his gentle interactions, he doesn't know his strength, and it seems he just doesn't have the comprehension to grasp that he needs to use a gentle pressure when dealing with his mum and sisters.

As mum to a special needs boy, there is a constant tickle at the back of my mind of how I am going to care for him when he is a grown man.  Even the tender age of 12, I have concerns for.  I try not to worry too much about this, and just take each day as it comes.  I try to remember that there is every possibility that he will change/improve/develop to a point where these things are no longer a concern.  But I can't deny the measure of progress to date has been precious little, where each teeny tiny developmental step is celebrated in a big way around here.  What if this doesn't change at all?

He fights me when I must brush his teeth.  How will brush them when he is bigger?

How will I shave him when he needs to start that?

How will I keep him off the roads when we are out and about?

How will I shower him when he is taller and more muscly than me?

Will he be using the toilet properly by then?

How will I defend myself and my daughters from his pushing at the rare times he does get frustrated?

What is going to happen when puberty hits and the hormones affect him?

The questions are always there.  Sometimes I worry, sometimes I don't.  Sometimes I feel resentful at being in this situation at all.  But most of the time, I just trust that God will take care of things, and my job is to simply do the best I can to plan for the future.

For some reason, he seems to prefer his collar turned up.  I keep finding it this way after fixing it several times during the day.  Fonzie from Happy Days anyone?

Blocking his ears in anticipation of crossing the train tracks on the way to school.  He does this every morning and afternoon, whether or not there is a train coming!


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