A Season Of Calm

Dear Addie,

As far back as I can remember, you have always loved to swing. You discovered how to find balance and pump your legs early on, gaining complete control over a soothing rhythm that your nervous system desperately craved. It was something so natural and organic to your being. In a world where environmental chaos and sensory overload were so often your norm, swinging provided the consistent calm you needed to combat anxiety and it always kept you smiling. If you had a particularlly stressful day you'd swing...sometimes for hours, anytime of day or night, 90 degrees or 20 - you swinging. We had swings inside and out. One could say it was just an activity you enjoyed, but it was actually so much more.

Navigating the early middle school years was challenging. The emotional swinging became intense, bringing both happiness and sadness as we were proud at your abilty of discovering ways to decompress and regulate feelings, however, sad that these emotions were almost constant. In a world where behavior and mannerisms tell our stories, it became evident that something had to change, you just were not comfortable at this moment in life. A new environment seemed to be the only logical solution. So a change we made.

With a new daily education and life skills program in place, the swinging had all but stopped. It was as if someone had turned off a light switch. Spring, summer, fall, and winter passed, and the swing sat empty, moving only with the wind. You had found peace in your everyday surroundings and interactions, and the swing that you once desperately clung to in times of need was no longer necessary. You were in a welcomed season of calm.

Until this past week.

It was an ordinary Saturday afternoon. We moved between gardening and catching up on some light housework. You were finishing your usual snack of oranges when you paused and stared longingly out the front window at the swing hanging still in the yard. A smile spread across your face as you quickly galloped your way outside and headed straight for it. You paused just before the swing, gazing at it for a moment before finally sitting down. After a minute or two, you squealed with excitement and began to swing. It was as if you had to allow yourself to enjoy it purely for the sake of joy.

Since that day, you have joyfully bounced out to swing, embracing the simple pleasure of something that has served you so well on this journey, but now for none other than joy.

Keep smiling baby girl, we love to see it.

Forever proud of you.

Mom