When you see this photo you may think Beckett looks sad, at first glance.
But in fact, it’s quite the opposite.
This is what his PEACE looks like.
Today we had an appointment to begin the process of HOPEFULLY receiving an adaptive transit push chair for little man, for our outings.
So we have this loaner chair to test out for the week, to see what we love/dislike about this model, for his needs.
When I say that this kid immediately relaxed in this thing, once we were out in public, I mean instantly.
It is unreal.
Let’s take a quick jump back to a pre-pandemic life…
We were just beginning to put lots and lots of our efforts into getting this beautiful boy out in public practicing his safety strategies, and working on staying with mom and dad at all times; working on safely waiting and staying on our feet.
Then the world was flipped upside down, and away ALL of that progress went.
Beckett is getting bigger, friends. He’s six now.
And he’s most definitely getting much better at expressing his “opinion”. 😉
He’s getting heavier. Much harder to lift.
And during a meltdown? Forget about it. His body isn’t moving anywhere. At least not for the two of us to remove him from a situation alone.
So that’s a major safety concern for our boy.
A safety concern for his ability to run off (and this kid is FAST) towards all of life’s tantalizing dangers.
And safety concern if he happens to have a meltdown while we are out and about.
Kicking, screaming, rolling, and head banging are not safe behaviors for a check-out aisle.
But choosing the “perfect place” for a meltdown isn’t a thing.
Meltdowns happen whenever and wherever, because there’s no single place that we can simply avoid going, that causes them all.
Sometimes you just can’t avoid them.
And sometimes you have no idea what factors bring them on.
This push chair right here, is an absolute game changer.
It provides us with peace of mind.
It provides our littlest love with security, and most prevalent in this photo, peace.
Today was a difficult day, behavior wise. So, so many tears for this boy.
And then we went to the store for a quick grab of a few things, and Beckett took his push chair for a spin.
He LOVED it.
Through this last year, even pulling our car into a parking space at a store was cause for meltdown, let alone walking inside one.
But today, with this unspeakable help, he was calm, focused, and just so happily relaxed.
Beckett even “compromised” and wore a mask on half of his face, while he sat.
What more could we ask for?
He is secured with a safety harness, providing the moderate pressure and squeezes the he seeks so often.
And he keeps that constant motion, without the ability to run into strangers, or parking lots, or towards water.
No need for a million attempts at snagging mobile service to load his favorite Mickey videos, for distraction, (that may or may not work), or trying to catch WiFi.
This chair is hope. A legitimate LIFESAVER.
And my hands are clasped tightly together, praying that our insurance will see our request, and understand just that.
Because unfortunately, adaptive medical equipment is a lot of things, but “cheap” is not one of them.
But friends, if you’ve made it this far, and you take one thing from this piece, just remember, if you see someone, regardless of age in a chair such as this,
know that it is not necessarily due to physical ability.
For our boy’s world, Autism is what we rock.
And autism, for just one example, is an unseen disorder.
Autism does not have a “look”.
My son will squirm, and rock, and dance in his seat, and we just know “the looks” will come.
His ability to move his body doesn’t cancel out his intense need for the equipment.
And he’s not the only one.
Be quick to share a smile, or wave, or kind words if you see us/others, and hold back the urge to judge, or make assumptions on someone else’s challenges.
Be kind always. The world blends so much smoother when we are. ❤️