The beautiful thing about being sensitive, means that we are sensitive. We sense stuff. We can REALLY taste, smell, see, hear. As a parent of a sensitive child, it can be hard. I have an inner voice that sometimes just wants little messyfish to not be so sensitive so MY life is easier. BUT I know I can't make him less sensitive. I know what could happen is I could make him feel bad for being sensitive. Make him feel bad for who he is. That would be the worst thing ever....Just so it's easier for me to be with him temporarily? Ouch. No. We don't do that. We honour his sensitivities, we allow him to be, we encourage him.
Still life, by little messyfish. Quiet creative days at home. Lots of them. And NO, he doesn't want friends around because they mess up his things!
The Chinese Gardens in Sydney, a quiet and welcome relief from the visual confusion of darling harbour.
Eating Pho Bò for breakfast. Its hot, fragrant, nourishing, and because small cardboard like flakes floating round in bowls of cold cows milk doesn't appeal.
Freaking out when we enter a loud and crowded restaurant. Insisting that he sits under the table the entire time. Me feeling pressure to make him "be sensible", and join the table. Me realising that he is 4. He can't do that. He won't do that. Me, setting him up under there, where he feels safer. iPad, drink, rice and steamed fish with ginger and shallots (all green bits removed).
Again, as the adult, I get to choose whether I make him feel bad and force him to do things he doesn't want to do, or I face the wrath of the socially acceptable robots. I choose to let him be. A strong and confident child is not created by making them be performing seals. Acting confident is not confidence. It's not a surface job. He was SURE he was going to sit there. Quiet confident indeed!