Amos' (accidental) self-portrait at a picnic
This was a whirlwind year.
With Amos’ entrance into mainstream Primary 1 came our fair share of behavioural adjustments, homework, on-site parental support, toilet woes and shadow teacher support. Having taken on the journey, we are now mulling over transferring him to SPED and we have reasons to do so, just as we had earlier on in deciding to put him in mainstream. We never regretted our decisions because they are all part of growth for us and both of our boys. They are also phases in life where we identify opportunities and reap benefits from them, as a path we must tread to reach another. There are tons to say about this, but we’ll save them for another post.
Now we’re just thankful it’s the year-end school break. In fact, we’ve been filling it with so much stuff our boys recently told us it didn’t feel like only 3 weeks of the holidays had gone by. We thought it’d be great doing all the stuff we promised we’d do during the school term—as an incentive to keep the boys going with their studies. We thought of packing them in at the early part of the holidays and whittling them down towards the end so the fun would start getting cloying and hopefully “holiday-fatigue” would set in and get the boys back into the mood for school. For now it seems to be working (hee hee!). I know...it’s still early to tell.
Anyway, apart from the usual hikes and scoots at the park, we recently re-discovered the joy of picnics and kite-flying. And the part that brought back the fun was really the no-fuss approach we’d tested over the last few sessions. Basically we got the gear all in one bugout bag—kites, sand toys, Frisbee, foam plane, mat, etc. In and out of storage it goes, no fuss. Then for each session we only needed to pack 2 large bottles of water and Amos’ utensils. On the morning of the picnic we’d do a drive-through for our breakfast and it’s off to nature! It’s the minimal prep, grab-and-go kind of thing that doesn’t leave us with packing fatigue before and after the event. Marie Kondo style for picnics.
When it came to picnics, play was right at the doorstep and we were prepared to spend the morning there. So we took things slow, like real slooow. We ate slow (though our hyped up older boy still wolfed down his breakfast), thought slow and talked slow and it was very liberating just being lazy about that picnic morning. The December picnics were also my first kite flying experience in decades. And I absolutely loved it.
Amos' attempt at capturing his kite with mummy's mobile
At our first session we took some time acclimatising the kids to the idea of launching a fluttering piece of plastic into the air and keeping it there while avoiding sunburn to our eyes. Joel started launching one himself, and when the wind picked up and the battle began, he was hooked. We were doing stuff with the wind behind us and the sun in our eyes, on our skin, half-worrying if the kites would tear or the lines would snap to a sudden gale. Before this we never paid so much attention to the elements; how strong the wind was, where it was going and if we ought to reel in or let go. We were learning the basic physics of flight and experiencing a part of nature in a simple way and it felt great. When the wind picked up, the kids developed a phobia of releasing the kites to the end of their lines. When we finally did, they were anxious to reel them back in. Then we found another kind of fun when the winds grew erratic, when Joel began a frantic battle with the kite to keep it from nose-diving, and realised he could control its movements and do acrobatics with it using a short line.
Being with kids, watching kites fly was never quite enough. Giant octopuses and their drifting tentacles are nice. But what's next? We thrusted headlong into sport kite flying and were completely thrown off by its immense pull, its speed, its sudden rises and dips, its swerves and loops. Suddenly we found ourselves in a wrestle with the monster kite, raw and primal, like driving a car without power steering and demanding very fine controls of strength and lightness. This was when we felt we were really flying something.
A valiant (but unsuccessful) wrestle with the oversized sport kite
Kite flying excited Amos as much as it worried him. For the first time he experienced the power of the wind in his hands, and was quickly spooked by how hard the line tugged at him and became irrationally fearful of the possibility that the wind might take him up along with the kite. An arriving gale would have him anchoring himself to mummy with one arm yet stubbornly grasping the reel with the other, his knuckles white from straining. He was immensely relieved to have the reel taken off him, and found greater pleasure in watching the crazy flight of our sport kite and squealing at 2 bungling, novice sport kite fliers. He also found fun in bursts of aimless running across Marina Barrage’s turfed roof or the immense central field at West Coast Park or the soft white sands of Tanjong beach. More importantly, Amos got over his sensorial fear of grass and sand, and that was one big plus in getting him outdoors.
That's enough, mommy. Any longer and I'll go up with it...
One thing we didn’t expect in these Covid-19 times was the extent of Amos' regression. We expected some of it but we weren’t prepared when Amos seemed to have completely forgotten about the sensorial experiences he’d gathered over the years. Being indoors most of the time also heightened his fears to changes in terrain and textures, such as drain gratings, stepping stones and escalators. Recently, the downward escalator freaked him out to the point of shaking when he had been able to ride it in the past without any problems. On our first picnic at the beach we had to carry him over the sand. On the second he walked but refused to touch the water. On our first visit to the Barrage we took some time getting him to step on the grass.
Back to baby steps.
It was dampening though it could’ve been avoided if we had paid more attention to Amos’ cognitive patterns. But we knew the way to fix it, and putting it simply, all we needed was to re-introduce the routine, the consistency. We had to get as close to normalcy as we can without unnecessarily risking ourselves to infections. The ills of closeting ourselves proved significantly higher for Amos. His cognitive development and speech would falter with his fear for new experiences and sensations.
In a way that added to our resolve to drag ourselves off the couch and get out there as much as we can. That means re-juggling schedules to make sure we carry this into the new school year and make up on weekends what might be lacking in outdoor experiences for the boys. We’re glad we found a new hobby in sport kite-flying. What’s left is to see if how far we’d take it and if there are enough places to fly them.
When Amos is convinced he won't fly away with the kite, maybe he’ll take to it too!
Commentaires