I see him running with intention across the backyard. In his clenched hands, he carries small twigs, old fence pieces and broken branches. From our kitchen window, I can see that he’s clearly on a mission to create his own backyard haven. It is evident that he’s an outdoor enthusiast, whether he’s building a sanctuary under the cluster of low-hanging trees on the side yard or chasing ghost crabs back into their sandy holes on the beach during the summer. Brady has always loved to touch what’s around him and gather things – mulch pieces, rocks, worms, pieces of litter that occasionally fly into our yard. He likes to bend things, shape things, build things.
When he was almost 4, he started climbing trees in our yard. It used to make me so nervous, even though an adult would always be monitoring him while trying to establish safety limits as to how far up he could go. Brady climbed with natural prowess and ease. When he was up 4-5 feet in a small tree, his demeanor was calm and happy. Dangling for more than 30 seconds, he would hold onto a branch, release, and drop to the ground on both feet, only to climb right back up and do it all again. Looking back, I recognize that this must have been a sensory pleasing thing to do – the stretching of his arms as he hung for as long as he found gratifying, and then the pounding sensation on the mulch below when he released his grip. He was discovering what made his body feel good (seeking that proprioceptive input he constantly craved as a young boy).
At age 5, he started digging, and I quickly knew that he needed to do this as well. He asked for a shovel and I bought him a kid safe one so he could dig in a designated area of our yard. Why dig? I believe it was naturally therapeutic to him. The pressure he needed to exert to make the shovel go deeper in the tough clay soil, the stimulation of his fingers pulling out the rocks he’d uncovered and weed roots he would yank up all proved immensely stimulating to his senses. Heavy work is what occupational therapists might call this, the kind of action that pushes and pulls against the body. Many autistic children are calm and focused when doing this kind of work. It’s the type of play that really uses their muscles and helps with coordination, even their ability to focus. Yes, my sensory seeking child was filling his needs without any of my guidance. I just needed to keep him safe.
At age 6, one sunny afternoon after finding a bird’s nest in one of his climbing trees, he began building his own little detailed bird nests with natural materials found in our yard. He wanted his nests to look real – and by meticulously crafting each one with grass, fine twigs, and bits of other gathered items from the backyard, he held them together with freshly dug damp soil. He spent hours doing this, and never wanted his siblings to help or take part in his project. He was hyper-focused when combining items together and very possessive of his creations. I would learn later that many autistic (and/or ADHD) kids can zero in on a highly desirable activity (task) with super-intense concentration, often for hours at a time. For Brady, it became a daily must-go-outside-and-do-this obsession for over a month.
Now at age 9, he’s outside as often as possible – every non-rainy day after school, for hours at a time on the weekend. He’s a little better about allowing his siblings to be a part of his world but often he desires to be alone in nature. I call it his outdoor therapy; this unstructured time allows him to create, to indulge his senses, to feel his body in space (body awareness) by swinging and using his legs to pump them as high as possible. I have no doubt that there are likely other benefits he is receiving due to his time spent outdoors.
When I look out my kitchen window and see my son running across the yard with a fist full of gathered twigs and his small shovel, I smile and feel immensely grateful that he’s discovered one of the healthiest ways to soothe his beautifully unique brain.
Brady, a few weeks ago, after eating dinner: “Mom, Can I go be with nature?”
Me, smiling at his use of words: “Yes, of course. Go be with nature.”
Beautifully written, Rebecca — Your writing shows such insight —
Thank you, Joan. I’m continually learning from my kids and from wise, caring teachers.
I can picture Brady (and Tucker, and their whole class) running in the grass, gathering nature, and creating. I adore this. Beautiful imagery, my friend.
I can picture them all too! I wish they could stay between the ages of 8-11 forever.
Hey Rebecca, thank you for writing such insightful and compassionate posts about parenting. I read all four posts and was especially touched by this one. Your love and dedication to Brady are unwavering and you try to stay optimistic when it is easy to get dejected.
It’s interesting to me also how you are both teaching, protecting and nurturing Brady but he is simultaneously teaching you how to see the world, what his needs and passions are and how he can cope most effectively in a world full of non stop impulses. Thank you for writing so honestly and openly.
Hi Martin! I’m so glad you are enjoying my posts. I’m a mathematician at heart and so writing is pushing me out of my natural comfort zone. However, I’ve learned so much because of Brady and how my other kids have adapted to him being a part of our family. Brady is a black and white thinker and he goes with his impulses, never hesitating. I’m just trying to keep him safe and let him be who he was meant to be. In the end, I just want him to be comfortable and happy in his own skin. Thank you for following this blog. I am flattered that a journalist, public speaker and avid reader of many subjects is touched by my writing!