February 23

Our field trip this week was to the Museum of Natural History. Overall it went quite well because there were enough things that the kids were allowed to touch mixed in with the plethora of items that were off-limits. Sonia and I managed to assemble a dino-shaped jigsaw before the kids lost interest in the play area! They weren't interested in the puzzle but Sonia and I were.

Yesterday we attended a birthday party that was at a place for creating art. The girls each painted a canvas with their first initial and each painted a small wooden animal. I was very glad to have two parents and I feel inspired to set up more art projects at home. Both girls were quite purposeful in going about their creations.

Friday morning I was inspired and in the SR zone for encouraging Sarah to get dressed. When she took off a sock, I celebrated hugely. When she stopped to look at the lines on her ankle left by the sock, I examined my sock marks too. It all went swimmingly. This morning... not so much. I do not have much internal space for Sarah's whining and yelling in relation to so many things. I realize she is probably fully aware of the situation, at least on some level, so if I want her to stop then I need to change internally so it isn't a hot button for me. I do not want to do this internal work. Bleh! &$*&#*!!!! My mom was reminding me of my younger days when I would do anything to avoid having a splinter removed. I was so scared of the pain that I would rather leave the splinter in, even when it was in my foot. I think that looking at my emotional splinters around yelling/whining/parenting/school choices/feeling powerless/etc is my emotional splinter and really, let's just leave it in! I'm sure it will just go away on it's own at some point! Please? 

Our volunteer L. wrote a beautiful description of her most recent time in the Sarah-Rise Room:

"Sarah asked to play with the project (project, what project? I've never heard Sarah use that word, how does she know it? Does she know what it means? How am I ever going to figure out how to come up with a project?).

Sarah guided me, unerringly, to the shelf in the closet. No, not the pink sheet, not the blanket, the box. (One mystery solved, the box is called 101 electrical projects, or something like that. But, yikes, it's a serious science project, not a toy. What's it doing here? How can Sarah be interested in it? Should I be letting her play with it? Maybe it's just about the box.)

Sarah saw that I had the box and had a look of happy anticipation. Once I gave it to her, the box got only a cursory glance "new box". Then it was open and we were (Sarah was, I'm madly looking for the directions to see if this is dangerous. I'm concerned that the pieces seem so delicate or intricate somehow) ready to play.

Sarah started to build a circuit, she took out the pieces, snapped them in place (making a good effort of it), she showed me the motor, and then the fan, told me what they are. Then she asked for help, very clearly expecting that together we could make the motor work so the fan would go round. (I can't do this! I have no idea how to to this! How can I get this box back in the cupboard?)  Then Sarah asked for help again, and I noticed one of the pieces had a switch (ok, maybe I can do this. Let's give it a try).

Once it was built, Sarah knew exactly how to start it, with the switch. When she toggled it over, the little motor started, the fan quickly went round then it launched. The preciousness of those few seconds! Sheer delight, from both of us, solid joyful eye contact, squeals of joy from both of us, the absence of doubting voices in my head.

Sarah never doubted there was a project, she never doubted that I would help her build it, she never doubted she could build it, she never doubted me and my support. I brought all of that into the Sarah-Rise Room with me.  

Doubt. Now that I've noticed that habit in my thinking, maybe I can more readily recognize it when it creeps into my thoughts and choose to replace it with a more Sarah-like trust.

Thank you Sarah,  L."

As I reread L.'s reflections I see that I could apply that trust and faith to looking at whatever issues are getting in my way. Sometimes regarding various parenting moments I feel just as L. did, "I can't do this! I have no idea how to do this! How can I put this [moment] back?" There may not be an instruction manual, but maybe if I just look at all the different pieces then I will find the switch and make sense of my own internal splinter project. 

....I just paused and spilled out in writing as many of the contents as I could think of with regard to Sarah's yelling and my getting mad. Among the many pieces, I did notice some helpful things. Sarah yells and whines the most with regard to food. Food is the arena in which she has the least control. I get mad and upset because I am still doubting my choices regarding what I feed her and thus I take it personally.  So... going forward I will think about ways to give her more control over her food within parameters with which I feel truly comfortable. I don't think this sorts of out the entire splinter, but at least I got part of it.

February 16

Highlights from the week...

I noticed that Sarah sometimes says "um..." before answering a question. I love it!

Sarah responds more to Amy's questions and requests. Sometimes Amy even tells her, "Hara, you didn't answer my question. You can say yes or no." One afternoon they were both sitting on our coffee table and Amy started telling Sarah to get off and spin her, because our table spins. After several requests, Sarah did it.

Sarah had a great day at preschool on Thursday. She sat and played a board game with a teacher and several other kids for many minutes!!

We made Valentines together on at least 3 occasions. My favorite moment was when both girls were making Valentines at the same time. I had little pink pieces of paper and I would draw a heart and let them do the decorating. Both were so purposeful and intent that I could barely keep up with the demand. In the past I had thought about having a craft project and I didn't think it would work. I love it when I discover I am wrong about such things. 

We had a video phone call with Grammy and Granddad and both girls easily sat on my lap for the conversation. They each sang a song and Sarah answered a question. We know she can answer questions but it is still not something she does 100% of the time so to answer someone not here in person seems extra wonderful. What I appreciate about all of our family members is that they understand the importance of waiting after they ask a question so that the girls have time to think about it and then answer.

One morning Amy started rubbing Sarah's back. It went on for at least a minute or two and I felt like Sarah allowed it in a way that she might not have if it was me rubbing her back. Plus, it was incredibly sweet. Amy is the sweetest little sister to Sarah. 

For the past several weeks Amy would say she didn't want kisses from Sarah, which was too bad because whenever Amy cries then Sarah tries to give her a kiss. I'm not sure what changed but this week when Amy has gotten hurt she tells Sarah to give her a kiss to help her feel better! And Sarah always does. Sarah is the sweetest big sister to Amy.

On Friday afternoon Sarah had her 7 year check-up with her pediatrician. This doctor has been her main doctor since she was born and I feel like she really is delighted and amazed with how much Sarah has grown and developed. The doctor was clearly amazed at Sarah's language and how much she followed directions. Sarah had a great time overall and protested loudly that she wanted to stay. She was loving the little paper exam gown that was decorated with exercising bears.

Yesterday we went sledding for the first time this winter. After we each did a parent/child ride, the girls said they wanted to go by themselves. The hill was sparsely populated and with both of us we felt able to control the situation enough that we let them do it multiple times. Carl helped them get up the hill with the sled and I waited part of the way down the hill. At one point I had a super-mom moment when the sled was heading towards another child who was stopped on the hill. I ran and did a flat-out dive to divert their sled at the very last second so they missed the other sled by an inch. Not that any of this was at high speed so even if they had hit it would have been ok, but I still felt very proud of my accomplishment. We all had a wonderful time. Then we were able to have a play date with some friends who live near the sledding hill. It was a lovely play date and a nice rest period before beginning the walk home. Yesterday afternoon I was more thoroughly tired than I have been in ages.

February 9

This was a good week overall. What does that really mean? I think it means that I ended it feeling peaceful about my relationship with my children. The beginning of the week was rockier because there I was all revved up to spend lots of time in the Sarah-Rise room and that sentiment was immediately followed by Carl and Sonia both being away for a couple days, on days when I had few volunteers. So there wasn't much official SR time and I felt totally ineffective at accomplishing elements of Becky Blake's program. Towards the end of the week I had Sonia and more volunteers and I spent more time in the SR room myself. I feel like something in me has shifted so that it feels easier than ever to be in there and the idea of doing maybe 3 or 4 hours doesn't feel intimidating. I haven't done that amount of time yet, but I hope to.

Sarah's favorite things to do right now are to play with her new elephant toys, to practice writing numbers, and to play with her new clock toy. Yesterday Carl played with the clock during his SR time and Sarah was looking at him and saying "your turn." He was even waiting longer and longer after she took her turn before he would do anything to see if she would cue him. She did! He also let her start playing and then pretended to be a kid coming over and asking to join in the game. She said yes and let him! This is so exciting. At this point clock play is usually about putting the shapes into the correct places, which she can totally do, and I have started working in setting the time to the last piece placed (if the 8 is put in last then we set the hands to show 8 o'clock).

All of her current favorite things could easily be isms (things repeated fairly exclusively and for her own enjoyment without connecting to others) but she is also easily interacting with us and the activities. She watches and tries to copy many of the silly things I have the elephants do. She also helps sort and count them. She makes pachyderm piles and attempts to say pachyderm. 

With writing numbers she is very aware of which numbers she can do by herself and which ones she needs help to complete correctly. She applies herself with gusto to the independent numbers (1, 0, 6, 7) and then offers me her arm when she wants help. Then she usually likes time to be on her own completely with the dry-erase number book. I get my own dry-erase book and start doing the activities. She tends to go through the stages of reconnecting. She flickers looks to my book, then longer looks, then she inches closer, and then comes fully over to join my activity. I love how Son-Rise works without forcing anything! 

As part of my training new volunteers I usually have them watch me do a short session. This is always helpful for me because it helps me observe myself. I am at my most dynamic, focused, and creative. 

Sometimes with my Alexander Technique thinking, I notice the difference between noticing the floor just under my feet vs. noticing the entire floor of the room. Often I can sense a difference in my body when I notice the full room of support. When I visited yet another school yesterday I was aware of the tight emotional space I get into whenever I am thinking about school stuff. When that happens I think I am not noticing the full breadth of support around me. My intention going forward is to pause every time I feel things tightening and to remember that I have a ton of support. Instead of thinking I must make the right choice, I want to affirm that I have a wealth of good options. 

I have been inspired by the blog of another Son-Rise mom who often shares things that her volunteers write. Included in this week's update are pieces by two of my volunteers. I have said it before and I could shout it from the rooftops, my volunteers are amazing. With the many blessings that have come from having Sarah as my daughter, I have come to know stunningly, to-their-core-amazing, creative, loving people. These are people that improve the world because they exist and they have improved my world forever. I am frequently moved to tears thinking about their wonderfulness, especially when I am missing those who have moved on to other adventures.

From G:

"It seems like, recently, I’ve hit a very nice groove with Sarah, in the Sarah-Rise room, with our Sarah-Rise goals and the Son-Rise principles, approaches, and guidance.  Our interactions have been quite authentic…playful, dramatic, and fun…and Sarah has remained connected nearly fully.  Indeed, today she hit me with a mildly sarcastic and completely verbal reaction.  Hiding under “the tent” she demanded, “Read another book.”  I countered with a dramatic, “But I can’t even see your face!”  She immediately countered, “Yeah, you can,” with an almost teenage-girl tone.  It was fast, it was brilliantly timed, it was funny.  I turned to laugh and when I turned back she had popped out, smiling at me and at herself, I think, hair a mess from the static…quite proud of her accomplishment."

From Sarah C:

"People usually just call me Sarah.  But when I am in the Son-Rise room, I am called Sarah C.  

When I am called Sarah C., I am exhausted from playing so hard.  I am asked to read the same book over and over again. I am told to "move back" when I am being annoying.  I am used as a human ladder to climb upon and reach the toy shelf.  I am a construction worker, creating cribs and castles out of blocks.  I am a bus driver, a cook, a cat, an airplane, a storyteller and a preschool teacher.  I am a tent pole.  I am a blender.  I am an observer.  I am a student learning about patience, fun, and creativity.  

When I am called Sarah C., I am loved by a little girl named Sarah and I am my most joyful.  

Being called Sarah C. has shown me all of the amazing things that I can be and I will forever cherish that lesson.  And it's all because of a little girl named Sarah, whom I will love forever."

February 2

I am now the proud mama of a 7 year old! How is that possible?! When I was in first grade, I remember sitting on a bench and looking at the sixth graders with awe. I couldn't comprehend how I would ever be that big. I have that same feeling with each level of growing up, including being the parent of anyone older than an infant. How did I get here? 

Yesterday we had a wonderful party for Sarah. She was perhaps the most present and connected she has ever been, as compared to past birthday parties. She greeted most of her guests, often by name and with some eye contact. She opened presents upon arrival and sometimes said "thank you" when gently coached. She started the singing when her cake was on the way (and our whole group sounded amazing when singing). She snarfed her pizza and cake. And then after a couple hours of festivities, she headed upstairs to nap! 

Carl and I talked until the wee hours last night, discussing our Sarah-Rise program and school and our next steps, and everything. Carl is the most wonderful individual I can imagine being married to. There are times that my girls say or do something that I find so surprisingly endearing I must give them a kiss immediately or I pause with a smile and feel that I will burst with love. Carl is similarly wonderful in all the small ways of being himself, I just don't always acknowledge it. I love how easily we can talk about our lives and our decisions and how supported I feel with all of everything. Anywho... what we realized is that, while our program is flowing along beautifully, we haven't been feeling the power and oomph behind it that we used to feel. And we want that oomph back! So we are going to increase our time in the room. 

In the early days when Sarah had minimal language and much less eye contact, it was very easy to work towards clear goals and it was easy to notice each tiny step of progress. Now that Sarah has so much language and so much eye contact, our goals and progress don't always seem so clearly measurable. Our collective team used to get 5-8 hours a day in the SR room and that has dropped lately for all sorts of reasons. Last night I realized that even if I'm not in the SR room, it is still important to set aside official time where I won't be distracted by other things. That is possible, but the room makes it so much easier so I am going to do actual room time at least 5 days a week. There is a magic that can happen there in the quiet space that I don't get elsewhere. I can focus in a different way, just as Sarah can. 

We have a team meeting next weekend and I'm excited to focus our team more powerfully and get new ideas for goals and games. Every time I observe my volunteers, especially the new ones, I am reminded about why it is important to have volunteers. Yesterday, in a session with our newest volunteer, Sarah said "make a crib." For those of us who have been in the room a lot, we know that this means Sarah wants to actually build a crib out of some materials in the room. So I always do. The new volunteer didn't know this so she thought maybe Sarah wanted to draw one, since they had been drawing anyway. Sarah went with it! This is central flexibility! Sarah already has the peripheral flexibility where she usually doesn't mind if we wear a hat or sing along with an activity. But changing the central activity within her chosen theme doesn't always happen. And here it did because of having a new volunteer who didn't make the same assumptions I might make. This is a good reminder for me to not always do what I think Sarah means, even if it is the umpteenth time she has requested a certain thing. Maybe I can find a new way to play an old game and shake things up for the both of us.

Sarah's lastest favorite conversation with me involves climbing onto my lap and saying, "Mom sad sometimes. Get tissue. Tears go in ears. Snuggle with me, help to feel better." While the pronouns sometimes get confused, she is mainly clear. She is referencing what happened a couple of days ago when I felt sad and, instead of rallying through it, I decided to just slump into it. I told the girls I was feeling sad and I had a good cry on the kitchen floor while both girls snuggled into me for the duration. In some ways this felt like the best testament that I have been doing an ok job parenting, if they could know that sometimes if someone is sad, a great thing to do is just be with them until they feel better. And then I did feel better and we had a great dinner. 

On Monday, Carl and Sonia and I visited a life skills class, which is just for kids with special needs. I think it is a very good option and I will take Sarah for a visit to give us more information about the class and about Sarah. Sometimes I can want so much for Sarah to be a certain way (eg, passing for a typical 4 year old) that I fight noticing where she actually is (not passing for a typical 4 year old). That doesn't mean we won't get there or that anything is wrong. Also, I think a huge part of the success of our program so far has been because of meeting Sarah precisely where she is instead of asking her to meet us where someone (maybe me) thinks she should be. 

Carl has a pull-up bar and a strap that can assist with the pull-up if a person can't quite do it independently. After lots of practice with the assistant strap, then, in theory, a person could do it by themselves. Last night I realized that our Sarah-Rise program is the assistant strap for the pull-up bar of various life skills. The more we amp up our support while still asking for a clear goal, the more Sarah can develop those skill muscles and then we can reduce the amount of support. For example, Sarah still has trouble with maintaining eye contact while making a request. When working on this goal, I become more dynamic in my face, voice, and body usage. I lie down on the floor so she can't miss my eyes. I point to my eyes. I celebrate hugely when she does look at me for the duration of a request. As she has an easier time making and maintaining eye contact, then I will easily reduce my responses to being those of a more normal interaction. And so it goes.

While I think I still get base hits even when I am in a bit of a slumped blah, I am ready to go for the home run again. The home run is about my level of presence and dynamic, playful, clarity. Let's do this! Let's envision my sweet 7 year old becoming more easily and powerfully connected, independent, and able to do anything and everything. Let's spend a moment thinking about her endearing, stubborn little self and dreaming the world for her. And, while we are on a roll, let's give a moment of holding Amy in the light as well, thanking her for being the most amazing sister Sarah could have.

Thank you all for witnessing and cheering! Team members, thank you for ever and always, for showing up to make a big difference in all of our lives.