A six-armed alien and his spaceship

Thursday afternoons you`ll find him at gymnastics.  He tumbles, hops, balances, hangs, and dismounts like a pro.  The same little boy who had trouble standing on one foot can walk on a balance beam without falling off.  He can crab walk across parallel bars and pull his feet up to meet his hands while he swings from a pair of suspended rings. 

Most Thursdays. 

We`ve been maneuvering through new territory.  Realizing a good day begins with a great sleep. Thursdays are long.  He doesn`t pretend.  If he`s tired, he`s tired and there`s nothing we can do but wait until he`s had a rest.  Two classes were spent sitting on the sidelines wishing to go home.

Elias`physio-therapist attends his class- her son is 4 too.  She watches him while he plays, quick to point out the progress he is making.  I`m the first to admit what a blessing she is.  This is her son`s class, not a physio appointment but she never hesitates to talk ``shop`` with me.   This is her calling, obvious in her care and enthusiasm for my son and many of the children who attend class.  We laugh together at how similar Elias and her son are.  I delight in the similarities, thankful he is keeping pace with his peers.

I ask her about his developmental delays, curious what she thinks.  She points out that he was delayed when we walked into her office a few months ago.  Not now.  I wonder about his fine-motor skills and she encourages me to ask his preschool teacher what she can tell me.

Last Thursday when I went to pick him up I took the opportunity to speak with his teacher.  He is acting like the other four-year-olds.  Uncooperative when it comes to clean-up, rifling through the costume box to see which outfit he likes best, or climbing up on the stool to draw a picture.  She hands me a sheet of paper he`s written his name on.  She helped him with the ``E`` but he wrote the l and i by himself.  Higher up on the page he has attempted to write an ``e`` and has drawn a picture. 

It actually looks like something!  A far cry from the sad little line he managed to scrawl at the developmental assessment. 

Elias tells me he drew spaceships and an alien.  I look closer at the picture and, sure enough, you can see his alien and a few other spaceships. 

I`m sure I am beaming, grasping hold of this little sheet of paper.  We come home and I put it on the fridge.  Where it is today.  Where it will stay.  I may even frame it.