Aidan had occupational therapy today.
- I asked the OT about dealing with Aidan’s praxis difficulties with handwriting. What happens is that he can trace letters OK, and print with my hand loosely guiding him, but if I leave him on his own or just show him a letter to copy, he can’t even manage an approximation. I guess in some ways this is very understandable. When he was three he could only say about 20 words…. we did all sorts of things to wake up his language processing and finally he just took off.
- Anyway, the OT’s suggestion was cut-outs for the shapes of the letters. I can’t find anything even to link to, but when I upload the picture I took, I’ll post it! This would be to help with words. For letters, I think emotional associations look like the way to go. The only letter he CAN write freehand is an A. And that’s by no means the easiest letter to write, either.
- After that he got his Wilbarger brushing.
- Then he and Paddy played a game where they picked up little bobbing worms in a wind-up toy sort of like one of those fishing games.
- Then they did squatting exercises on the trampolines (”being frogs”)
- Then they played a game with squeezing little toys that made bubbles when squeezed. She mentioned that tempering finger strength is a good praxis aid.
- That was it for the day. She made note of how his AFO is causing a rash on his foot, something I need to call the orthopedist about.
We went for a walk.
The older kids did math and had another play day.
Besides the therapy visit, I caught up on some writing and researching. Feeling a bit better but still very tired by afternoon. Aidan and Paddy alternated saying “Mama are you awake?” by about 2 minute intervals. I would say another piece of the Rosary and drift off again and then “Are you awake, Mama?” again. Oddly enough it was sort of charming. I am not sure why. In my hallucinating state it was like embodied prayers somehow, with bright little faces and little hands tugging at me.
So we had a Costco-ish meal of garlic bread, chicken chow mein and kielbasa. Clare and I caught up on calls to friends. Then we caught up on conversation with each other. Then Brendan talked to me for a long time — literary criticism, aesthetics, lots of other stuff. Paddy got so mad because I was talking and didn’t read his stories. Finally he went to sleep, still rather flushed.
