Rockin’ the Tricycle
It seems strange to be doing yard work and look up to see my eight year old son riding on a tricycle. He’s not peddling it; he has difficulty with that. He just pushes himself along, looking far too big for the bike.
A part of me feels so sad to see his older self still struggling with things that his younger self would normally have learned long ago. I have to remind myself that although he has difficulties with some tasks, he excels at others. He may not be where he “should be,” but he’s in a place that is comfortable for him.
As with any child of his age, he is trying to assert his independence. He is often heard to say, “I can do it by myself.” We then have to back off and let him try.
It doesn’t always work this way. Sometimes, we push him to do things, only to have him burst into tears and say, “I can’t do it.”
Raising an Autistic child is so different from raising my other children. They all hit their milestones on time or early. He has hit many of his on time, but some he was late on. At the age of 5, he had the fine motor skills of a toddler. Yet, he was more intelligent than most children of his age, and could memorize all of the pictures in his favorite books.
We praise him when he makes even small accomplishments. We encourage him when he fails at something. We love him without holding back. He will be alright.