Tracing Triangles

When I daydreamed about having children before we were blessed with our boys, I never could have fathomed what our reality would be. It's messy. It's chaotic. It's stressful. It's fun. It's unexpected. It's incredibly blessed. 

I never imagined Teddy and all that he brings to our lives. (It's pretty tough to picture something you never knew existed, at least when you're a concrete thinker like me.) Last week I was working on some school activities with Teddy, writing with dry erase markers on tracing patterns. I did hand-over-hand, guiding his hand along the lines and making fun sounds to keep him engaged. Then I asked him to trace the triangle on his own. I pointed to a corner and said, "Start here." I then pointed to the next corner and said, "Draw to here." We repeated that for the three sides and ended up with this.

The triangle was traced in purple, amid all the pink scribbles that are the norm.

Now, that might not look like anything remarkable to you. In fact, you might struggle to consider that a legitimate tracing of a triangle. In my eyes, though, that was an incredible accomplishment. It was the best tracing I've seen Teddy do with only verbal cues. He focused on the entire task and made something recognizable to me as a triangle. 

As I praised him, I cleaned the sheet to try again. The next time he did even better.

Look at that pretty pink triangle!

I could not believe his triangle. Teddy got hugs and high fives for a fantastic tracing job. I quickly snapped a picture before it was scribbled over or erased. First I text it to Dave. Then I shared it on Facebook. Then I e-mailed his OT and his teacher. Do you get the picture of how proud of him I was? 

The love and support for Teddy came through on Facebook and in replies from the messages I sent. We're so blessed to have so many in our lives rooting for Teddy and celebrating his accomplishments when they occur, regardless of when others achieve those same milestones. I know that tracing a triangle, when you're 7 years old, is not typically worth a second thought. But life without Teddy isn't typical. It's unexpected. It's a journey to discover what he knows, what he can do and, sometimes this is the kicker, what he's willing to do. That little boy can do so much more than we give him credit for because more often than not we can't coax it out of him. 

It's oh so frustrating to be Teddy's mom at times (and that's a feeling I get most days, at least for a few moments). But there's unlimited joy inside him, and that radiates out to others. There's also moments like this that we can see for the gifts they are: a reminder of how far we've come, an accomplishment to celebrate in the moment and hope for what will come.