I have always been one to be quick to give help or ask for it
when needed. I feel good when I am
helped or when I help someone else. Some people find it difficult to ask for
help, but not me.
When help is offered I gladly take it. When I had the double
wide stroller I was relieved when someone opened the door for me. When I was
pregnant and someone offered me a seat I took it. When I had a newborn and
someone offered to bring me a meal I gladly welcomed the sweet gesture. On the
flip side I love to help others. I love connecting people with other people who
can help them. When there is a
crisis I feel helpless unless someone tells me how I can help.
So why didn’t I get help for my child when he needed it?
Since he was two years old and in day care we have been told
that there was a concern regarding our eldest son’s fine motor skills. He
didn’t like to draw, write, or color. Then when he was in Pre-K his teacher
once again broached these concerns with us. After a stern discussion with him
he went from scribbling and coloring outside of the lines to drawing
recognizable characters (aliens) and coloring as best he could inside the lines
in his Batman coloring book. After that instance I wiped my brow off and gave a
sigh of relief. He was finally getting it.
The first time I met his Kindergarten teacher I introduced
myself and the first thing she said was “does your son have a dominant hand?” I
learned that they were trying to get him to write with one hand and not both. Darn!
The fine motor issues had reared their ugly head again. Still his teacher said
we should take a wait and see approach with occupational therapy.
Then first grade came around. Finally his teacher said that
it was time to get some intervention for his fine motor issues. We started with
an OT and my son is so happy that he is finally getting the help he needs to as
he puts it “write better.”
The kid wanted to write better. He was frustrated. My help
wasn’t enough. What held me back from asking for help for him all of these years?
He is my first. He grew like a weed—always off the charts
for height. He excelled verbally by speaking clearly and with the correct
words. He recognized the letters of the alphabet before he turned two. I think
in my mind he seemed to be doing great and hitting all of his milestones with
gusto. I just felt like this
problem would eventually work itself out with age and maturity.
I fought back tears last week as I read through the reports
from the occupational therapist and the school. Words like “fine motor delay
since he was little” pained me. One report compared him to a kid who “stays on
task most of the time.” “Kid A” did awesome, my son not so much. In my mind he
had always been “Kid A.” They talked about how he was frustrated with his
writing. They talked about how fatigued he was from trying to keep up. They
talked about how school was hard for him. How did I miss the boat on this one?
The good news is he is getting help now and is feeling more
confident. I need to let go of my guilt and move forward with eyes open. There
are resources at our finger tips to help our children get through school. There
is no shame in asking for help.
My second born is already struggling with his fine motor
skills in preschool. If by asking for help early I can make school easier for
him, then help is wanted.
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