Leo the Late Bloomer is a sweet story. It's in the classics collection for good reasons. Parents and teachers alike who might be caught in the comparison act, need a little Leo to remember that you can't place expectations on the child but rather expect the child to develop at their own unique pace. This is part of my lecture as a Young Fives teacher and was a part of my lecture at conference time during my K-1 teaching years. Leo has soon made its way into the "sentimental tug at your heart strings" list with me. Partly because Leo blooms above and beyond what his parents could have ever imagined. The "I did it" I told you so ending is a good parent reminder to stop the push and just be.
It's hard for Leo's parents to just let things be. What sort of encouraging signs did they have along the journey? Page after page, there are mishaps, little wanderings, and even some stubbornness. "Good things come to those who wait." seems to be written all over Leo's face. It's the parents who have their moans and groans and frowns.
At least Leo tries. At least he seems happy go lucky, which helped maintain a good self esteem. At least he had his own way of managing. All of this led to his blooming.
Riding on only two wheels, sustained play with her brother for over and hour, saying hello to a male neighbor, -even going out of her way to do so- all huge victories. Those are the ones longed for but unsure if they were possible. When success is reached, it's the trumpet announcement, balloons releasing in the sky, applause and the big Hallelujah opening up from the sunbeam sky victory. Delay after Delay. Setback after set back- finally victory. Some are made ahead of the game. Some took therapy, practice, waiting, praying, and crying over and then ... finally,when we stopped looking for a major on stage performance, - ta da! It happens the ultimate victory moment.
I still wait for big victories. The day, she meets a real friend who appreciates her, giggles with her, pretends with her, and can't wait to play with her. I wait for the day she reads the words on the printed storybook page fluently and with expression instead of imitating the fairy tale narrator with mixed up senseless jargon. I wait for the day when she eats Armenian food- preferably my favorite Mahnti. Could be a total long shot considering it takes a certain taste bud to actually LIKE it. Okay, I wait for the day that she eats what everyone else is eating. I wait for the day when she carries on a conversation just like a good tennis volley.
These days of waiting for the victories are long, hard, and sometimes unbearable. There are days of setbacks that suck the energy out and I am slapped with the reminder of the rocky road journey of life with autism. There are days when she is overwhelmed, screaming, and moaning. There are days when she digs her heels into the ground and scratches me just like a cat with claws because she won't budge. There are days when "friends" reject her because they found someone more appealing for play and she was just the stand by. There are days when there are stares and whispers from the cold cruel world. How to believe that the blooming will come and she will be victorious?
Being fairly new to the gardening scene, the moonflower is a fascination. It's just like the Morning Glory only white and night are its glory time. Most think they are weedy, invasive things that smell like peanut butter. Most amazingly, you can literally watch it bloom right before your eyes. It is a sight worth seeing if you are into wonders of the world. It is a late in time bloomer all around. It doesn't bloom until late July or August. The time of day is late- like dusk or after. Late but worth the wait. It glows in the night just like the moon. Blooming before your very eyes. You will blink and blink and wonder.
I wish the blooming could be as easily noticed as watching the Moonflower. Perhaps it is. Each day I am challenged to note small victories in the blooming process. As they say "Count your blessings. " It is necessary to count the small victories. If my daughter tries one carrot in a day- Hurrah! If she remembers to go back and forth with her toothbrush instead of chewing on it- Hurrah! If she comes out of her room and says "Good Morning" instead of moaning on her bed, Hurrah! Small victories count for something. They count towards the big time blooming. They remind you that the blooming is possible and probable and on its way.
Leo and the Moonflower. Both late in the way of blooming. Yet the blooming is better and not never. For me, it is the small victories that tell me so.
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