He runs to make his mind still, to organize himself and to get rid of the noise from this loud, confusing world. The more he's moved, the more he's introduced patterns and rhythm into his routine. Laps around the house are a daily ritual. He's made it more complex as he's developed, but the basics are the same. There is a pattern of movement -- specific foot patterns based on whatever song or chant he chooses to accompany the run, and he can not be stopped until he is ready to be.

This is James, and this is our story.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

No Strings Attached

Another sock torn to shreds.

I found it while folding laundry today. Then I found another. That makes 5 this week, plus 2 pairs of pants in the last few weeks.

James is obsessive about strings on his clothes. If there is a tiny piece of string sticking out anywhere, on any piece of clothing, he needs to remove it. Immediately. If I am not ready with scissors to cut it off, he won't stop pulling it until it is completely removed.

It was hard enough to find socks without toe seams he could feel (yes, I was the one doing the victory dance in the boys' department at Target, thankyouverymuch). But my smugness went away after a few washes, when the strings started to appear.

More than a few times have I arrived at school in the morning to tell him it was time to get out of the car, only to see a sock with a newly pulled hole on one foot and a panicked look on his face. "You don't have another sock? WHY don't you have another sock? Now I can't go to school. NO, I CAN'T NOT THINK ABOUT IT! I'M GOING TO THINK ABOUT IT ALL DAY AND WON'T BE ABLE TO DO MY WORK!"

And I sigh, because I know he is telling the truth.

I tell myself that summer is coming - those glorious days of crocs, shorts and short sleeves. Less clothing means fewer strings to pull, right? Not having to wear socks is a reason to throw a party in this house.

And maybe, just maybe, if he doesn't have to remove a string for a few weeks straight, the obsessiveness will fade a bit and he'll outgrow it by Fall.

But until then, I'll be carrying a tiny pair of scissors for emergency string removal.


Alysia said...

Um...do we have the same kid. Don't answer that.
We are in sock shredding mode here too. Here it's the fuzz lint balls that appear and he cannot. Stop. Thinking. About. It. Then he pulls them off his brother's socks. And then none of us have socks.
And I hate socks too. Not the threads but the general feel of them. Hurray for summer :)

krismac said...

Oh, somehow I knew you would be able to relate - to all of it! I've always hated the feel of them too. I find shoes and boots I can wear without socks in the winter and go straight to sandals and flip flops when I can't go barefoot. I don't think it used to bother me when I wore multiple pairs of soccer socks and shin guards every day growing up though! I think I have developed SPD by association.

Michele Sxhwien said...

Sensory integration is so fascinating to me. My 12-year old son is the same way with the toes - yet he has no awareness when there is a hole in the heel.