Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Therapy with children as young as Eli never looks like most would think. He doesn't sit in a chair and talk or lie back on a sofa. It's play therapy, and we carry on conversations and just talk freely. His hands are busy on other tasks, so his guard isn't up as much. He'll speak and answer questions without much thought, giving me better insight into what he's dealing with and the struggles or stress he may have about certain topics.
"I love seeing all these different colors," I say as I take in the completed drawings in the stacks, noticing a pattern of this small brown animal. I determine it's a dog because he drew it in inside scenes as well as outside scenes. "I think you really want a puppy."
His smile is quick, but his hand still works on the brown animal in the drawing he's currently working on.
"That would be the best present ever," he whispers.
"How do gifts work?" I ask, doing my best to make my voice sound very inquisitive.
Eli stops his drawing, and I watch as his little head tilts. I don't know if it was the right question, considering it took him right out of his activity.
He turns to slowly face me, his little brow scrunched together. "I don't know."
I chew the inside of my cheek as I consider my options about approaching this.
"Gifts are thoughtful things someone might do for another, but they aren't expected," I explain. "Do you understand what that means?"
He shakes his little head again, his lips a flat line as he waits for me to continue.
"It means even if we want something as a gift, we may not get it. Or maybe when we get a gift, just before we open it, we hope for one thing but feel a little disappointed when we open it and it isn't what we wanted."
He frowns, looking a little beat down.
"So I'm not getting a puppy?"
Shit. I don't think I took the right path.
"I don't know if you are, but I think all gifts are special. What would you do if you got a gift, opened it, and it wasn't a puppy? Let's say it was a train set. How would that make you feel?"
"I love trains," he says with a wide smile that lights up his eyes.
"What if it was a new t-shirt with a dinosaur on it?"
His smile fades just a little.
"I like dinosaurs, too."
"What if it was a pack of underwear?"
"What kind?" he asks cautiously after a long break.
"Plain white briefs."
His nose scrunches, but then he thinks, considering all of it.
"I wear underwear every day. So I think that would be nice to have them."
"Even plain white ones?" I challenge.
"All gifts are special," he says. "Even if it's underwear and not a puppy."
"I think that's very responsible of you," I tell him before pointing back to the drawing. "What is this puppy's name?"
"Felix!" he says as if he already has the dog.
I know a child verbalizing how he would act if he was a little disappointed in a gift and how he'd actually react at the moment may be different, but talking about it before it happens may help him handle the situation a little better when he faces it.
A lot of times children act out in new situations because they don't know how to regulate their emotions or what's expected of them.
The session continues with us chatting back and forth. In his drawings, I don't see much concern. There's an overlap of water, and I'm not certain if that is because of the time he spends in the pool or if it has another meaning. In some drawings, the water seems to have a positive connotation and in others, the water seems ominous and dangerous.
I make a mental note to ask Nolan and Aspen about the water and see if bringing Kiva with me on my next visit would be okay. I know the old gal would love to get out of the house. I always feel so guilty leaving her behind for the day. When I have appointments in the office space I rent, I always bring her with me.
"I'm going to have to head home soon," I explain to Eli when the session is drawing to a close.
"Will I see you again soon?"
"Very soon. Can I get you to draw something for me?"
"Anything!" he says with a bounce in his little body.
"I want you to draw me your dreams."
He pulls in a deep breath before speaking. "The good or the bad ones."
"The good ones," I tell him with a gentle smile. "But if you have time to do the bad ones too, I'd like to see that."
Giving him the option to draw puts less stress on him, and I find that most kids will eventually put that down on paper for me when given an option.