The other night I had a meltdown. 

Full ugly crying couldn’t stop. 

Remember two weeks ago when I was lamenting the fact that there’s a significant lack of programs available for kids with any types of special needs in our area during the summer? But have no fear, we were going to do things and it was going to be great and all of that optimism I had? 

It left.

This is a kid whose interests are few. He likes legos. He likes building, he likes being given the ability to be creative. He likes bouncing a ball and jumping on a trampoline. He likes being around people. And in the first few weeks of summer, it felt like we’ve already exhausted those things and we’re now just hanging out with obscene amounts of screen time. Several of the parks here have been deemed TOO BORING, and he only wants to go to the zoo IF THE MONKEYS ARE FOR SURE OUT. 

Summer is supposed to be this period of time ripe with possibility, and for some of us it’s just a little bit of aimless wandering with more sunshine than usual. 

The next day I suggested a few things we could do- and in typical Seton fashion, he couldn’t choose. So we went to a park, a big one near our house. It wasn’t crowded, but he was the oldest kid there by at least four years. And this park- we’ve frequented it over the years. It’s big, more spread out- surrounded by some open fields, and a little bit of room to run. It’s actually the first park we took the now teenager before we moved here. And he was intrigued, and then navigated the entire thing solo. I followed him around for a few minutes (force of habit) and then realized so I sat in the shade and watched him. I thought of all the times before we’d been to this park, some pre-diagnosis, many after. I thought of one morning in particular pretty soon after he was diagnosed where we had a weird time window between therapies and I brought him there and all he did was sit on the bouncy toy for 45 minutes. 

Eventually he came over and sat in the shade with me and I asked if he wanted to go or play more. 

PLAY MORE. 

Play more. 

Okay.

And I started crying again because while I can be upset that those cool rad camps aren’t yet inclusive and willing to open their doors and their hearts to special needs kiddos, what I really need to do is check myself and lower my expectations…of myself. 

This kid? He likes hanging out with me. He likes bouncing a ball. And by that I mean he literally bounces one of those giant balls that they sell in the cages at the end of the aisles in Target all over the house, for MANY hours a day. He can basically enjoy himself anywhere, he finds fun in the mundane. So I don’t have to create a magical, crazy awesome experience for him on the daily. We can just play…more. 

I mean, after all- we do have a water table.