I was chatting with a man from my neighborhood while waiting for coffee yesterday. He's my morning-small-talk-guy. And he suddenly asked me, "Can she move her arms?", referring to Niko who was strapped to my chest in a Bjorn. "Yes, but she has limited mobility, and will most likely not improve over the years." Wow, I was impress that I got that out so casually without losing my shit.
It was when I got home that I fully appreciated his thoughtful phrasing of the question. "Can she move her arms?" It allowed me to answer his specific question with exact details, and without getting embarrassingly emotional. "Yes she can move her arms" Or "She's got stiff joints but we are working on increasing her range by stretches." That's easy to say. And it relieves me of making that hard decision of how much, to whom and when should I share. What he meant is, "What's up with your child?" Of course I can see that. But if he had asked that, I would have either burst out crying, or suddenly realized that I was very late to a pressing schedule and didn't have the time to chat after all.
I love specifics. Specifics I can talk about. It's the whole package that I have trouble articulating.
And Niko can move way more than just her arms. Here is a video of her in OT.
I have always noticed her leg strength. I just didn't know how to help her use it. So I asked her OT if she had a platform with wheels so that Niko can try scooting on her back. What she had was too high for Niko. Her short little legs couldn't touch the floor. So her OT allowed Niko to push against her hands. This really blew my mind. Niko shot across the room in no time (and on her first go).
And here she is pushing herself to bear a little bit of weight on her legs. It's so cute.
And a bonus video of Niko laughing.
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