Travelling with family

As those in the know know, having a child with a motor-disorder launches one into a new universe with a one-way non-refundable ticket. At least one gets to travel with family. The odd part is that the child tends to be the tour guide, showing the ostensible adult a great number of awesome and vast expanses that are virtually unknown to the publishers of life's little tour guide. We're off the map.
Being off the map means what? Well, for starters it means everyone else's map isn't really of much help. One has to make his own map, and the best point of reference for making this map is the child in one's lap; who, for all technical definitions, is often described as not knowing where he is or where he is going. Just let me say, this is a lie.
The child, (even the "non-verbal" type, especially the non-verbal type) knows where he is and where he wants to go. Figuring out where that is can be a challenge; a monstrous one. My whole point of raving here in this blog is to say over and over that the only thing that has gotten me started in earnest into the this territory called "My Sonland" is conductive education. Without the confidence and support of the conductors, I would have never begun to ask my boy to do so many things we now take for granted. Getting him out of the wheelchair and onto his feet? A notion all the traditional therapists never suggested. Stretching his legs properly? Nope. Asking him to use his hands? They still don't. What's happened is that my son's life at my house is completely different from his life in the hands of others.