Today, the weather is nothing short of perfect—a refreshing 65 degrees with a sky so blue it feels like a scene from a storybook. Armed with our bright red wagon, a collection of sippy cups and snacks, I set out with my two kids: a spirited three-year-old boy and his almost two-year-old sister. Both are incredibly sensitive, with my son often displaying a sassy side that leaves me both amused and exasperated. We piled into the car and headed to the zoo, joining what felt like half the city, all eager to soak up the sunshine.
As we made our way through the zoo, my daughter relished the wagon ride while my son confidently approached each animal enclosure, eyes sparkling with wonder. Just yesterday, however, he was anything but bold, clinging to my leg in the occupational therapist’s office. We had gone there for a screening after his well-meaning daycare teachers suggested he might not be ready for preschool.
My son, whose warm honey-colored eyes light up at the sight of majestic tigers and towering giraffes, is highly sensitive and often exhibits babyish behaviors. He just turned three two months ago, and at home, his initial reaction to disappointments—a cookie that drops or a sibling’s gaze—is often to whine or cry. Yet at school, he transforms. He leans in for hugs, reassures himself that I will return after lunch, and walks into the classroom. He’s the quiet one, never crying or snatching toys, just quietly enjoying the train tables and playground.
But during circle time, when singled out, my son seems to retreat into himself, like a butterfly reverting to a caterpillar, shutting down completely. His body tenses beneath his brightly colored shirt, and he appears almost frozen.
One day, I decided to observe this circle time. “Come up here,” a gentle teacher called, but he remained still, possibly hoping to be overlooked. “Stand up,” she prompted again. He complied, albeit slowly, resembling a Charlie Brown character in his reluctant movements. When asked to identify and place a yellow triangle on the board, he froze again.
As I sat just out of sight, I fought the urge to shout encouragement. “Just do it! You know you can!” I mentally chanted while watching him struggle. Slowly, he complied with the teacher’s prompts, but his hesitance was palpable. Ultimately, he sat back down, his posture relaxing as the spotlight shifted away from him.
I know my son well, spending nearly all my time with him outside of those eight hours at daycare. His teachers have yet to see his vulnerabilities, unaware of how he shies away from attention. The arrival of his baby sister, just 16 months younger, has also shifted some of the attention he once enjoyed. He navigates the world at his own pace.
Thus, we found ourselves at occupational therapy for an unbiased evaluation. After coaxing him from my side, I watched as he sat in a small chair, crayons in hand. The kind therapist guided him through activities, and while he fumbled with his left-handed grip, I felt the familiar anxiety creeping in. I bit my lip, suppressing the urge to correct him.
After some tasks, the therapist explained that he needed to improve in several areas, labeling him “mildly developmentally delayed.” I questioned whether a just-turned-three-year-old truly needed to master scissors right away.
But today, at the zoo, amidst the laughter and joy of hundreds of children, my son looked just like all the other kids, basking in the delight of the animals and sunshine. It made me wonder: do all children mask their own struggles? They have a way of pulling at our heartstrings.
Yet today brought a sense of healing. Perhaps it was the vibrant weather or a gentle breeze that filled me with hope. Or maybe it was simply my sweet boy, thick curls bouncing, showering me with hugs and sincere “I love you’s.”
In this moment, I saw the beauty in my “imperfect” child, a reminder that every child is wonderfully unique in their own way. For a deeper dive into parenting and child development, check out this insightful post on Cervical Insemination and find resources about pregnancy here. If you’re considering at-home insemination kits, this reputable retailer offers a great selection.
Summary:
In this reflective blog post, the author shares a day at the zoo with her two young children, contrasting her son’s shy nature at school with his enthusiasm in a more relaxed setting. The narrative highlights the challenges of navigating developmental delays while celebrating the beauty of every child’s uniqueness.
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