Kicking It Down The Stretch

Something awesome happened at home the other night sandwiched in between a long day at the office and a long night of deck writing. It wasn’t anything particularly mind blowing (like that I won the raffle for the Vespa I’ve always wanted…alas I did not). But as it happened it made the other particulars of my day completely insignificant. And as a result I’ve replayed the scenes in my mind the rest of the week.

Jackson started playing soccer in the backyard.

He’s four-and-a-half so this shouldn’t be a big deal. Some of his friends have been kicking around soccer balls and footballs–and even catching baseballs–for months if not longer. But for a boy with Asperger’s, which according to what we’ve been reading can hinder hand-eye coordination as well as the general desire and overall ability to participate in sports, this is news.

We had just finished eating our dinner in the back and were just lazing in the mix of sun and shade when I turned to see Jack, tongue clenched between his teeth, chasing his new ball back and forth across the grass. Kicking it deliberately every time he finally caught up to it.

I can’t tell you how often I’ve been out there trying to incent some form of interest in kicking balls back and forth, throwing and catching. Just trying to create some kind of playing regimen out there. And there he was doing it all by himself. When he thought no one was watching him.

Just making it happen.

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