So here I am writing from a bench at the local community center. I can't believe I signed us up for soccer class again. Especially since one of my goals this summer was to de-structure our structured activities. But the tennis class Jam wanted to take conflicted with hippotherapy and hippotherapy trumps a six-week tennis class. And the basketball class offered is an instructional basketball class and is for the serious kids looking to build real skill. The soccer class not so much. Less formal, more fun and games.
So soccer it is.
I had reservations about signing up, of course. I have reservations about everything. So many variables to consider and weigh. And while I do tend to over-think everything, this time it's warranted. (Yes, I realize I say it's warranted every time!) But this time it really is. Because this quarter the soccer class is outside. On the slightly uneven grass field. In the full sunny sunshine. And we all know how Jam gets in the sunny sunshine. If you don't remember, you can re-read this. And this. Basically, his brain goes all haywire in the sun. Which is a problem and here's why. There's a lot of filtering to be done out on the field- people riding by on bikes, people walking dogs, kids screaming on the playground, birds chirping, airplanes flying overhead, the breeze blowing. Jam tries to process all of this. SPD kids have trouble filtering. In the sun, he gets hit double-hard, double-fast. The messages his brain sends and receives get all jammed up. And that is especially problematic for the dyspraxic. Because his body needs to send and receive those messages correctly to successfully move, run, kick the ball, and work with the other players. And to navigate that slightly uneven grass field. So I was worried he would be a hot mess all over the field. And it turns out that he is. He's fallen down four times already today. Like, he's literally just standing there not moving and then all of a sudden he face-plants. Like someone pushed him but no one did. It is insane. Fortunately, so far, he doesn't seem to care.
Some days, on bad days, he does care and tries to limit his movements because he doesn't want to 'fall down anymore'. Those days make me a little sad.
So why sign up again? Well, here's the deal. It's the same coach, same location and same informal approach as last time. Which works well for Jam who has, until recently, been very wary of new situations and who still needs lots of repeated exposure to get something automaticized. Since he's done this all before, maybe this time more of it will stick. Plus there's only four other kids in the class (great for my group-phobic son) and the coach is really good about including Jam and breaking down even the basics into step-by-step instructions.
And there's the socialization benefit. This class is specifically for 4-5 year olds and the kids tend to play on the playground after class. It's an opportunity to find new friends. Especially now that Jam's gotten to the point of wanting to play with other kids. But many of the kids around here are heading off to kindergarten in the fall and won't be around anymore. Jam's chances to spend time with kids his own age will likely be decreased. For awhile anyways.
Interestingly, though, soccer class has validated for me that Jam is not ready for the academic kindergarten of today. One, he has a mid-summer birthday so there's that. But watching him in class- he still can't sustain focus and attention for more than 10 or so minutes. And he quickly loses track of what he's supposed to be doing and where he's supposed to be at any given moment. Unless he's doing something highly relevant and personally interesting. Which soccer is not. So what does he do instead? He names the soccer balls, he makes up new soccer games with lots of complicated rules (since he still doesn't know any of the real soccer rules). He just kind of does his own thing. Which is much more highly relevant and interesting to him. Until the coach realizes he's off track and pulls him back in to the class. I totally get that about Jam because I'm the same way.
Yet he wants to be there. Because, believe me, if he didn't, we wouldn't be. I can think of a million other things I'd rather be doing. Like staring at a beige wall. But he works hard and has a good time doing it. He looks forward to it. And it keeps his body moving. And the one thing I need is for this dyspraxic kid to keep moving.