The Magic of a Puzzle

I had this great experience with Liam the other day that I wanted to share. I think I’m probably more inclined to blog about the trials and tribulations, emotions and fears of raising and loving Liam, but I want to also be sure to share his accomplishments and those moments that I just want to bottle and savor forever. It is nice to have a forum to share these moments, to celebrate with others the little steps forward that inspire me and drive my passion and belief in Liam’s ability to heal.

It was a warm, sunny, breezy day so Liam and I sat outside on the front porch to enjoy the weather. I was still feeling tired from having pneumonia and had about an hour with Liam alone before Gary and Claire would be home from work and school. I brought a box containing four jigsaw puzzles, each one depicting a different type of construction truck, outside with us to occupy Liam during this time, as I wasn’t feeling up to any active play. Liam LOVES these puzzles because he has an absolute obsession with construction trucks. He was giddy and laughing, so happy. I opened the box to find all of the puzzle pieces jumbled up – I usually try to keep things highly organized for him because one of Liam’s significant deficits is executive functioning. He struggles with organization, planning, waiting, and has poor frustration tolerance. If things are not organized for him, it is really hard for him to see a task through. He can either become agitated because the task is too hard or takes too long to sort through everything and find what he needs, or he can become really silly and a bit destructive (throwing the pieces around or tearing them up would be common examples). Ordinarily having four different puzzles all mixed up would be a mini crisis. So, I opened the box and thought “crap, I’m not in the mood for this.” I immediately talked myself through a little attitude adjustment remembering that I can view this as an opportunity to help Liam with his frustration and organization, I just have to model a different perspective. “Oh crap” is not the perspective I want to teach. “We can do this together and it will be fun” would be more helpful. I started to show Liam how to organize the pieces. Each piece has a little shape on the back to help group the pieces for each truck together. “See Liam, we can put all the circles together.” I made a pile for each shape and tried to encourage him to do the same. Now Liam can easily sort and match shapes, but that’s not what he sees as the object of this puzzle. He wanted to get on with assembling that digger. To my surprise, Liam was just whipping through these pieces, quickly glancing at the picture side and knowing immediately if it belongs to the digger puzzle that he has begun to piece together. This is something that I can’t do. Some of the pieces are obvious as to what truck they belong to, but most of them (in my eyes) could be part of any one of the trucks. Liam seemed to know immediately if it belonged or not. I carried on with my sorting, still worried that the lack of organization was going to frustrate him. Liam carried on with assembling his digger puzzle.

In the past, Liam hated puzzles. He was horrible at them. He has not only struggled with organization, but also fine motor skills, and has had a typical autistic trait of not being able to see the forest for the trees. He just didn’t seem to get how to determine where a piece would fit. He didn’t really pay attention to the picture and instead focused on the wrong stimuli, usually the shape of the piece, attempting to fit pieces together by shape only. For example, we could be assembling a puzzle of Thomas the train and he would be trying to put a piece with part of the sun on it with a piece of the track. He wouldn’t use reasoning to see that the sun would go up at the top with the sky and the track would go at the bottom. It’s like the pictures didn’t even exist until the puzzle began to take shape and he would suddenly realize “Hey, there’s Thomas.” Consequently, puzzles have been a real challenge and not something he’d ever ask to do. Over the past few months, I’ve noticed a change. Liam actually has started loving puzzles, asks for them frequently, gets really excited when he gets a new puzzle, and has begun to be able to assemble them with much less help. Even so, I typically have to act as his “surrogate frontal lobe” organizing the pieces for him, helping see where a piece might go, keeping pieces that won’t fit with what’s been put together out of his reach, etc. I’d also have to be super enthusiastic, cheering him on, even if I were doing most of the planning and assembling.

On this particular day, aside from his ability to quickly sort through the pieces and find just what he needed, Liam actually assembled two whole puzzles completely by himself. I was carrying on with my little sorting project and looked up to see that Liam was working this digger puzzle fast and furious to its completion in record time. He then moved on to the mixer puzzle and did the same. He has never put a whole jigsaw puzzle together by himself. To see him complete two puzzles was simply amazing to me. I was beaming. I was cheering him on with the most authentic enthusiasm. “Yeah, buddy, that’s right. That does go there! Look at you go, you’re such a clever little boy.” All my celebrating really didn’t seem to matter to Liam. He didn’t seem to need it. He was in his own little version of heaven; enjoying seeing his beloved trucks emerge, happy as a clam. I could have put puzzles together with him all day. I had an urge to run out to the store and buy every puzzle I could find. I fought that urge, but did buy him one new puzzle the next day when we were at Fred Meyer. I couldn’t help myself.

Ordinarily, I might feel a little sheepish about sharing this moment with others. I’d think to myself “what’s the big deal, it’s just a puzzle that many kids half his age could do,” but that’s not the point. For me, the point is that all of these little steps forward are huge. One of the gifts that Liam has given me is to really appreciate just how intricate and amazing child development is. I really think that, if it weren’t for Liam, all of the little things that need to be mastered to do a simple jigsaw puzzle would truly go unnoticed. With Claire, it seems like she develops at lightening speed. I don’t even see her journey some of the time. I take it for granted. Having Liam has allowed me to marvel in her development because it seems spectacular and effortless. With Liam, his progress can seem so slow at times it’s almost invisible. Each day you put in effort, not sure where it’s going or if it’s doing anything and then one day, boom, he’s doing something that blows your mind. It fills me with so much hope and gives me the strength to persevere, to believe in Liam’s infinite potential. It inspires me to want to go in the playroom each day and play with him. It reaffirms that my job as his mom and teacher is to provide him with opportunities, gentle guidance, to do with him (not test him), and to encourage his confidence and internal motivation for learning.

Taking a child centered approach to learning can feel aimless to me at times because there are fewer clear markers of progress, no boxes to tick off, or drills to complete. I tend to like to be in control and I like for things to be organized, clear and concise. Liam challenges me each day to let go of control and to just be with him, allowing him to take the time that he needs. Liam’s personality and learning style requires this, he’ll fight you all the way if you try and push him when he’s not interested. Seeing that he is learning to organize, stay focused amongst a tiny bit of chaos, notice the relevant stimuli and use reasoning and logic, feels amazing. Seeing the smile on his face and absolute joy in doing a formerly detested activity is priceless. Liam’s mastery over these two puzzles is no less celebratory than when he potty trained, or when Claire learned to write her name. Each little step forward along this journey is a huge victory and makes me believe that anything is possible.