Jay got kicked out of his social skills group.
“We really wanted this to work, but he’s not ready.”
It was pick up time and I was in their play room, on my knees. Jay was happily running around with the other kids who are in the group. They were playing some sort of ball game.
“He does well when we’re in the big gym and we’re working on taking turns and stuff like that but when we’re in this room and we’re sitting in a circle and doing less sensory intense activities he struggles.”
I listen and nod.
Jay is on the other side of the room. She calls to him and says “Jay, who’s this?”
“Mummy” he says and comes crashing into me and knocking me over.
“There’s another group that we can try. It’s smaller and each child has to be accompanied by a parent.”
“It meets on Saturdays and hopefully after a while of being in that group, he can transition back to this group. Would you be interested in that?”
I tell her that I am interested and we will see her this Saturday.
I tell Jay to say his goodbyes, which he does, and then we head towards the cubbys that hold the shoes. As we approach the cubbys, Jay darts into another empty play room. This one has a ball put and he dives in. He completely immerses himself and I can’t see him at all. I tell him to get out because it’s time to go. I hear him laughing. Then I see a head peeking out. And then he’s gone again.
I try to grab his hand but he heads to the farthest corner of the pit and there’s no way I’m getting to him unless I jump in the pit also.
I wonder if other parents have had to do that before to retrieve their children and immediately I think “Of COURSE they have.”
I take my shoes off and put one foot in the ball pit much to Jay’s delight. He thinks this is all hilarious. I reach for him. He’s a slippery little fellow though and manages to escape my grip and now he’s standing on top of the slide that’s next to the ball pit. I get out and make my way to the end of the slide thinking that I’ll grab him as he slides down but instead he jumps back into the ball pit.
It’s no wonder he got kicked out of his group.
But he’s so happy.
That makes me happy.
Last night as CC and I were talking about this, he said, “You remember when we were dying to just hear what his voice sounded like?”
“Then we wondered how old he’d be when he used the potty?”
“He’ll be OK. I have faith in him.”
I really wish if this group had been a good fit for him. In the couple of months that he’s been going there he has really enjoyed himself but if he’s not ready he’s not ready. In the mean time, later today, he and I, together, will try something else and see how that goes.