Look Where You’re Going

Alex doesn’t seem interested in riding a bike, but lately he’s been eyeing his brother’s scooter. We went to the park last week — Ned and the other kids had scooters, and I didn’t want Alex to feel left out, so I grabbed our new pogo stick (a gift from Grandpa) and handed it to him. Not only did he carry it to the park the whole way (often he starts out holding something and then flags and tries to get me to carry it) but once there he practiced over and over again, trying to stand on it and jump.

Photo courtesy of ndrwfgg (flickr.com)

We frequently have to remind Alex to look where he’s going. Tripping down subway stairs. Careering around a street. If he learned to ride a bike or a scooter, he’d HAVE to watch out and set a course for himself. Fix his inner self on some goal — go THERE — and train his gaze in order to do it. So I’m thrilled at his determination to use the pogo stick. He even tried a scooter for a few minutes, but circled back to the pogo stick.

A couple of summers ago we met the director of Alex’s sleepaway camp, a dynamic woman who said she feels all kinds of movement — including skiing — are terrific for people with developmental disabilities. It’s a kind of self-reliance, she pointed out.

You don’t see many pogo sticks these days, but ours attracted a lot of attention. Kid after kid came up to us in the park and wanted to try it, and our neighbors offered their scooters to Alex in exchange for a turn. He stayed with the pogo stick for about 20 minutes (a long time for him) then used the scooter, went on a tire swing and finally climbed the monkey bars so he could sit with the other kids perched on the very top. He needed just the littlest bit of help to get started, and did the rest himself.