Musical Chairs

When I was a child, I used to love to play Musical Chairs.  All the children started out in a circle, chairs facing outward.  There was always one more child than chairs.  The music would begin and we would all circle around the chairs, anticipating the time when the music would stop and we would scramble to sit in a chair before they were all taken.  We hardly ever sat in the same seat twice due to the nature of the game; we moved around a lot and landed wherever we were when the music stops.

Poor Nathaniel has been playing musical schools for the last 3 years.  He was at one school for Pre-K, he moved to a different school for Kindergarten, yet another school at the beginning of this school year, and has finally found his chair this January.  He has had 3 incidents so far, every single one of them minor, has not been to the principal's office, and only yesterday went to the sensory room for the first time; this, not because his behavior warranted that he needed it, but because he had been curious to see it, so his teacher took him. 

 He told me today that he had a mostly good day.  He had some difficulty, but told me that he got to go to the Quiet Zone.  What is this magical place in his room that kept him from flaring up and turning into the Incredible Hulk?  It's a desk against a wall that has a set of soundproof earphones.  He simply sat there with the headset on and got to escape from the noise until he was ready to return to his work.  He chose that zone, just like he chose the mini trampoline yesterday.  He has completed his work almost every single day and doesn't even have homework because he completes that as well!  What a turn around from last month, even!  He is truly flourishing there.

Every day for the last two weeks, I have seen the return of my happy little boy who I haven't seen truly since pre-k.  He loves school, he is happier at home, and he smiles.  Oh how he smiles!  I am reminded of the scene from Hook when the little boy looks at Robin Williams' all grown-up and grouchy Peter Pan and plays with his face for a while.  Then, he twists the face into a smile and says, "Oh, there you are, Peter!"  That is exactly how I feel now when I see my older son get off the bus and meander into the house. 



Seeing my children happy or sad affects me, deeply.  How can it not?  They are my own flesh and blood.  But he is a reminder of myself, as well.  The last few years I have been wandering around in a daze, trying my best at times to hold my head above water, getting glimpses of that joy from time to time, knowing that it's there, somewhere, and I have just had to trust that the flight of happy thoughts will return someday to stay.
But I am learning, once again, remembering how to be able to silence everything around me and to ignore the chaos around me, not letting it bother me to endless distraction.  I am seeing that it really is alright to get off the merry-go-round from time to time and do my own thing for just a little while.  It doesn't take too long, just a 5 minute logic puzzle here, a 3 minute song on the piano there, or, gasp, a 7 minute opportunity to use the restroom by myself with the door locked!  Aah, now THAT is a peaceful moment if I can find the earplugs to ignore the cries of children who have suddenly realized they must have me that very moment and are disturbed that I deign to lock them out.

Just as Nathaniel is learning how to cope, slowly but surely with those things around him, so am I.  I am even enjoying playing with them again.  We've been painting on the art easel the last couple of days, painting with the dot paints or the brushes that came with the easel paints.  We've been singing together and building blocks together.  Who knows, maybe tomorrow we'll even play musical chairs with a twist...no chairs taken away because in this household these days, everyone is a winner.