Before I show you what I need to show you, I need you to read this post I wrote two years ago.
Really, go. I'll wait.
OK, so two years ago, Ryan's sensory integration issues were such that he was wearing socks and shoes at the beach and crying when the tiniest bit of sand touched his skin.
Now, two years and countless hours of therapy later, check out my boy:
This was entirely his idea, too. He saw a hole, climbed into it, and ordered me to bury him.
Whenever I'm feeling frustrated and hopeless, I'm going to meditate on that kid buried up to his chest in sand. He is filled with infinite possibility, endless potential. And he may be just a couple of years out of reach.