September / October 2005
Volume 23, Number 5

Hello, I am the mom of a 3½ year old named Sam. As I sit and write this note to you I can’t help but think how many other parents feel the way I do. This note is not meant to undermine the wonderful work therapists do with our children; it is, however, meant to take a look at life in a lighter note and enjoy our children for who they are.

    Hi, I am Sammy Wollschleager. I am 3½ years old and an extremely busy little person. I receive a number of therapies a week, as most of us do. This week, however, is vacation week, a week without therapies, and that is what I want to write about. My family and I headed north for the Adirondacks, to Lake Durant for a week filled with camping and fishing. It was exciting packing; you see, Mom and Dad were busy making sure we had all the stuff we needed, you know – food, wood, clothes, Band-Aids, medicines, etc. I, on the other hand, was busy with cognitive planning – I was busy working on a strategy of how to get all of my dump trucks, farm animals, and barn into a small bag Mom had set out for me. It wasn’t easy cramming all my belongings into that small bag, but I did it. (I believe they call that my cognitive awareness – please forgive me if the term is a little messed up, but I’m only 3½.)  We were finally packed and all set to go, so off we went.

    We arrived at the ranger’s entrance. It was wooded and a little dark, and I proceeded to say to Mom and Dad, “Look Mom, Dad, Dorothy, Toto, Forest Mommy Dark,” and (I think the speech therapists would have called that sentence structuring) Mom then explained this is not the forest that the folks from the Wizard of Oz live in. (That is one of my favorite movies.) I put 4-5 words together – all that practicing has paid off!   As for my social greetings, there was the ranger at the gate – I gave him a quick wave and a “Hi”, then off we went to set up camp. Mom and I started to collect sticks for our campfire. I was all decked out in the appropriate attire, especially my hiking boots. I insist I wear them, even though it was hot out. (I believe they call that making choices.)  We proceeded to get all shapes and sizes of sticks. Our site was a little uneven, but I navigated the area pretty good over the tree roots and rocks that had been sticking up. (It was no physical therapist balance beam, but it might as well have been!) I bent down picking up the smallest of sticks – I believe I was using my pincer grasp to do so. I spotted a big stick off to my side, so, with some trunk rotation, I picked it up and carried it to the fire pit. Mom and Dad took one look at that and informed me that we weren’t having a bonfire, just a campfire. (I do believe that in this little gathering of wood I did manage to incorporate not only physical therapy, but also cognitive abilities like number, quantity, big, and little. What do you guys think?) 

    Well, the firewood was gathered.  Now the most important thing about camping was about to begin. FISHING!!!!! We gathered our poles. I have a brand new rod and reel Mom and Dad got me. It’s a Zebco.  I picked the bobber out myself at the fishing store. (I will tell you more about that later.) We got our worms and off we went. Mom proceeded to cast the pole for me and handed it to me. It was now up to me to bring in the BIG ONE!  Mom and Dad very patiently taught me how to fish that day. (What better way to teach cause and effect – put your line in, watch your bobber, and once it goes down, reel in, and whola – you have a fish!)  As I said earlier, Mom cast it out. Dad had his fly rod in the water. Mom gave me the 3-step instructions (which were up to me to follow). She told me to cast my line, set it and forget it, and watch the bobber. (Number counting came in very handy – you see I had to count to three while watching the bobber.)  Once the third hit came, I was to pull back hard to set the hook and then reel in my fish. Mom and Dad helped me to pull back because the first time I did it all by myself, I managed to hit myself in the head with the pole. I was SO excited having a fish on the line!  (Now as for watching the bobber, I do believe the therapists would call this visual tracking.)  Now to endure the patience you must have to be a fisherperson! Those fish are smart, yet I tried to my best ability to sit patiently. You see, the first cast I got bored when no fish bit, so I threw my pole in the water. After being explained that this was not proper fishing etiquette, I no longer did that. Remember my bobber?  Well, I picked it out myself at the fishing store. Mom says it is the biggest bobber she has ever seen, and Dad says you can see it from the space shuttle.  Oh well, it worked!  I sat with great anticipation. I watched the bobber, and I counted 1-2-3!  Then it happened with a quick pull of my line. I could feel the big one – I was so excited. Mommy and Daddy helped me bring in the whopper. I reeled it in all by myself. (Isn’t this called bilateral utilization of extremities and crossing midline?) THERE ON THE END OF MY LINE SAT THE CATCH OF THE DAY – A YELLOW PERCH!  Mom and Dad are trying to teach me fish identification. I went on to catch sunfish and bass that day and had the time of my life. I want to tell all my friends out there no matter what life hands you, try to always be a HAPPY CAMPER!

    With much love and respect to all who have helped me,
        MASTER SAMUEL C. WOLLSCHLEAGER

    P.S. Steve and I are so proud of the accomplishments Sam has made.  So often we parents lose sight of who we are and the wonderful things are children do. Our children are constantly under a magnifying glass, tested and tested, while this week GOD provided the magnifying glass and nature was our therapist, and a great one indeed. Sam had a great time.  Most of all he had a chance to be a child, a friend and a son, not some number on a test sheet. To all you other Happy Campers – may you also get a chance to enjoy your childhood, for it is very precious!!

    With much love to you all,
            Kim Wollschleager