My name is Anna Roberts, and I am the mother of a six-year-old girl named Lily. She is the second of our four children and our only daughter. Lily has always had a spark about her, she loves costumes, silly songs, and building block towers as high as her arms can reach. But for much of her early childhood, it felt like the world moved too quickly for her to keep up.
She struggled with independence, often waiting for us to dress her instead of trying herself. She avoided joining in with her older siblings, retreating into her own corner of play where she felt safe. And she fought new foods with everything she had, refusing even to touch vegetables on her plate.
When we began ABA therapy with Kinfolk a year and a half ago, I hoped for help with routines but did not realize how far-reaching the changes would be. The biggest gift has been watching Lily gain confidence in herself and learning how to share her world with the people who love her most.
One of the first things her therapists showed us was the ABC model: Antecedent, Behavior, Consequence. It sounds simple, but for me it was like putting on new glasses. Suddenly, instead of reacting to Lily’s behavior in the moment, I could step back and see the pattern. What happened right before? How did she respond? And what was the outcome?
We used this model in every part of life. At playtime, the antecedent was her siblings inviting her in. The behavior was usually retreat, she would look away or wander off. In the past I would have begged her to play or felt heartbroken watching her pull away. Instead, I learned to notice the smallest steps forward. If she looked toward her siblings or pushed a block in their direction, we celebrated. The consequence became warm praise, a smile, or a sticker. Slowly those moments built into more. One day she tugged her sister’s hand and whispered “come.” Another day she pointed at her blocks and looked at her brother, adding the word “build.” That tiny word carried more meaning than any lecture could.
Now, Lily not only accepts her siblings near her, she invites them in. She will gather them around and announce “play” or “cook” as she sets out her toys. I still catch my breath when I hear her voice ring out, because for so long I wondered if that moment would ever come. The laughter that fills our living room now is one of the sweetest sounds I know.
Her independence has grown just as much. Getting dressed was once a daily struggle. The site of her clothes in the morning made her cry, and she would stand frozen until I gave in and dressed her myself. With ABA, we broke it into steps. The antecedent was her morning routine. The behavior was trying even one small action, like pulling up a zipper. The consequence was immediate praise and sometimes a reward. With time, those moments of effort built into real progress. Today Lily zips her own coat with pride and only brings me her shirt when she needs help with buttons. That look of accomplishment on her face is priceless.
Once full of tension, Mealtimes have also changed drastically. For years she would shove away any new food, especially vegetables. Her therapists showed us how to start small. At first, she only had to touch a broccoli floret or sniff a green bean. That was enough to earn encouragement. Slowly, touches turned into nibbles, and eventually bites. Now, Lily eats broccoli and green beans without panic. She still has picky days, but there are also days when she surprises me by saying, “One more.”
Ten months in, Lily is still the same imaginative, gentle child, but she is calmer and more connected. She uses short sentences to invite her siblings into play. She dresses herself and looks proud when she accomplishes something new. She can sit longer at the table, eat more foods, and even meet my eyes when she wants to share something.
For me as her mother, these changes are more than milestones on paper. They are glimpses of the future I always hoped for her. ABA has not turned Lily into someone different. It has given her the tools to take part in her own life, and it has given us a way to celebrate every step she takes forward.
If you are a parent in Raleigh and feel weighed down by daily struggles, I want you to know progress is possible. It may come in tiny steps, but those steps add up. Kinfolk ABA gave Lily the structure and encouragement she needed, and they gave us hope.
Names and identifying details have been changed to protect privacy.
