rules for boys

Yesterday was not one of our better days. Having had such an amazing experience with the kiddo last weekend, I was somewhat surprised when our church picnic ended in Johnny spiraling out of control.

To be completely honest, I couldn't tell you which child set him off. I do recall some long bright blonde hair, but that describes multiple little girls who attend our church, and the minute I noticed the look on Johnny's face and his hostile posture, I began to run, seeing with tunnel vision from that moment on. I do know that every little girl that could have possibly been the catalyst to Johnny's meltdown is at least two years younger than he is, and none of those children have a history of malicious behavior. From what I could gather, the girl had accidentally tripped Johnny while they were playing, and she herself had begun to tumble, so she grabbed a hold of him to right herself. The problem with this is that in the world of Johnny, intention is directly tied and proportionate to the level of pain he feels. If you hurt him, you must have done it intentionally, and meant for it to hurt. If you hurt him a lot, you must have really meant it.

I've tried countless times to explain to Johnny that this isn't how most people work. Sure, there are individuals who will on occasion intentionally hurt someone else, but 9 times out of 10, if someone got hurt while playing, it was an accident. In his mind, those odds are reversed and the only times it is unintentional is when he's the one who accidentally hurt someone else.

Anyway, so I see Johnny rushing toward a little girl with his teeth barred and holding his hands out like claws, growling. It might have been comical if it weren't for the fact that I knew he was dead serious and out for blood. I ran across the yard and threw myself between them, scooped him up, and took him over to where I had been sitting on a bench. I locked him down on my lap by trapping his legs with my own and began to apply pressure in the form of a giant hug/restraint. Johnny proceeded to claw at, attempt to kick and bite me, and managed to get in a few good swings. Once I got him calm enough to carry him away, I took him into the house to be away from the situation. He screamed at the top of his lungs, a shrill and desperate cry that was anything but fake and most fully the expression of complete frustration and rage. Every time he gets that upset, my heart breaks for him. My own childhood flashes through my mind, and the overwhelming sensation of helplessness, confusion and frustration that I felt on countless occasions so similar in nature all come rushing back to me. He yelled and screamed that he couldn't calm down, that he was angry, that he wanted to hurt me, that he hated me, that I made everything worse, that she meant it, that she was horrible, that I let her be horrible to him, that I wasn't being fair, that I needed to die, that he needed to die. He launched himself at me multiple times, but I kept pushing him back into an empty room, insisting that he go and calm himself down privately. When Johnny is freaking out, there's nothing private about it, but I maintain that he needs to separate himself from everything and everyone when he is that far gone. I remember that level of all-consuming rage. I remember being so far gone that I couldn't even fathom how to stop from spiraling even further. As an adult, I've experienced that a handful of times, but as a kid, I remember it being far more often. Yesterday I felt so incredibly helpless because while I've found coping mechanisms as an adult that keep me from getting to that point again, they don't translate to things a 6 year old can easily do. Hell, sometimes it is hard enough for my 28 year old self to manage. So as my son continued to freak out, I kept a safe distance but remained as a barrier between him and the rest of the people there.

I won't lie, I broke down and cried.

Usually I'm at least able to hold it together until a situation is over and he's long since returned to whatever activity he was taking part in. Most of the time I can keep the tears in until I've put him to bed, cleaned up some of the house, and sunk slowly onto my bed to allow myself to process the events of the day. But yesterday? Yesterday I bawled as silently as I could manage, praying that my son wouldn't hear from the other room. My one friend Niki came over and gave me a hug and held me while I cried and told her how exhausted I am from moments like this. I love my child more than anything else in the world and feel amazingly blessed to have him in my life, but the powerless feeling of not knowing how to help him is crushing at times. Intimately knowing his pain but being unable to show him a way to fix it is one of the most infuriating feelings I've ever experienced.

When Johnny did finally calm himself, he still wanted to blame the little girl for everything. He began to beg to go home, and I felt that it would be a bad example to set that I would change my plans for the day just because he threw a tantrum. His dad was supposed to have him for the rest of the day anyway, and I needed someone to back me up and reinforce the idea that he is not allowed to hurt other people, including me, so I texted Steve to come and pick him up. By the time Steve got there, Johnny had gone back to playing calmly with the other kids and acted like nothing had happened. Steve, on the other hand, was quite stern when he picked Johnny up, and later relayed to me the conversation they had in the car on the way home.

There are times when my ex husband is able to find a brilliant way to approach a situation with our son that I would never in a million years have thought of. I'm not saying that Steve is by any means incapable of parenting Johnny, merely that as with most divorced family situations, (and often within those where the parents are still together) mom is usually the bad guy who handles the day-to-day and dad is the fun one. Having nannied kids for 10 years, and being the parent with primary custody, as well as having the same diagnosis as the kiddo, I'm often the one taking charge with how we approach a problem-- and Steve is usually extremely supportive. Steve's way of handling the situation yesterday when I didn't have a clue what to do with Johnny was perfect for who Johnny is and how he views the world: dad explained the rules.

While Johnny knows he isn't allowed to hit or attack other kids, and that is by no means a new concept for him, Steve approached it by pointing out that Johnny is a boy, and boys have special rules in life. There are a lot of cool things that come with being a boy, he explained, but it also comes with the rule that you never EVER hit a girl, for ANY reason. This new revelation about a special rule that he has to follow because he belongs to the male gender was just what it took for something to click in Johnny's brain. "Oh, I should apologize to mommy!" Yeah, buddy. You really should. (And he did!)

Steve's approach has bought me some time. We are still working on securing a new TSS and BSC for Johnny through CenClear, where he is receiving family based services right now, but in the meantime, I have a new way of approaching Johnny when he physically attacks me. Interestingly enough, I'd say that about 90% of the time he gets into a fight that causes him to become physical, it is an issue with a girl. This "boy rule", which is most definitely a very real and important rule, will be my constant reminder to him when things get heated. Hopefully soon we will have extra help on hand and can begin to really figure out ways to promote self-calming strategies.

Boy Rule #2? Always pay for the date. We'll approach that one in a few years...

proud mama

Days like today always blow me away. I know that it probably shouldn't be so surprising when my kid has such an awesome day, but when it comes down to it, 90% of our interactions involve me telling him that he has to do something he doesn't want to do. You see, I have Johnny from Sunday night until I drop him at school on Friday. This means that I spend the majority of the time I have him telling him to wake up, get dressed, eat his breakfast, prepare to go to school, (a transition he doesn't do well with) do homework when he has it, eat dinner -- which is rarely the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he begs for, get a bath, (water is a trigger) brush his teeth, and go to bed. His dad has mentioned that he doesn't have a lot of the issues with him over the weekend that I see throughout the school week, but I think it is because none of the "fun" stuff happens on weekdays. The days I've had him this past week when there was no school were some of the most fun I've had with him in a very long time. I'm getting to see a side of my son that I'm not used to. I've been able to see him relax, have fun, and to a certain extent, learn to roll with the punches. I got to keep him this weekend while his dad went out of town.

Today started off nice and lazy, just hanging out and cuddling while watching a movie. My friend Corinne then joined us this morning and into the afternoon as all three of us worked on different painting projects. I pushed for Johnny to stretch beyond his typical paintings by asking him to include a background. He seemed frustrated with me, but he tried it anyway. The result was wonderful! He also worked on some homework that we had been avoiding, and after a little bit of lip about not knowing how to do it, he successfully finished the task. When it came time for lunch, he ate everything I set in front of him. Then we went to get his hair cut, which is a task I absolutely dread. (Note: here was one of the hardest times I had cutting his hair!) Not only did he sit extremely still for his hair to be cut, he even allowed the girl to use a very small pair of clippers to trim his neckline and around his ears. Our agreement before even showing up was that no clippers would go anywhere near him, but when she talked to him about it and let him listen to them, (they were tiny, I think for facial hair) he acquiesced and I was floored!

After his haircut, we went to my cousin's kid's birthday party. Johnny was older than the majority of the kids present, and he usually has a hard time understanding that younger kids can't be held to the same standards that he knows and is expected to adhere to. While I was anticipating to have to field endless problems with him, I barely had to say a word to him all day. We arrived around 3:00 and didn't leave until almost 8:00! My cousin's husband even reported to me that when he checked in on the kids, (something the parents were taking sifts doing with the older ones who were playing outside) Johnny was managing to keep it together when he usually would be melting down about various things. He handed out all of the candy he got from the pinata game to the other kids (and my aunt) because he can't have sugar. When it came time for dinner, he was polite about asking for what he wanted and even drank a good bit of water with his meal, something we've been working very hard at doing since he hates water. Usually getting him to even take a sip of water is a fight and a half. To top it all off, when it was time to leave, he didn't fight me at all! He just said goodbye to the kids he was playing with, then hopped in the car and buckled himself in.

While I spent the entire day praising his good choices in the moment, I was so impressed with the decisions he made that when we got home, I made a huge fuss. I sat him down, walked him through our day and pointed out all of the moments where he made me proud and talked about how awesome his choices were. Since I don't have the usual worry of school in the morning, I told him that he was allowed to stay up late and even watch an entire episode of his show before bed, in my room (his favorite place to be in the house) while eating a special treat to make up for the candy he couldn't have. He was in heaven, and I got to cuddle with my favorite person in the whole world! What an awesome day!

tooth fairy

What can I say? My life is all over the place. Between the kiddo, work, school and dating, there is always something new happening that affects Johnny. I've recently interviewed for a new job, (I don't think I'll get it, but still...) my classes have been intense, and dating? Well-- long story there pretty much ends in starting over again. That fact makes me feel bad about Johnny getting to know the last guy, but at the same time, he is a resilient kiddo and after an initial feeling bummed, he seems over it. Meanwhile, we are experiencing the winter that will NEVER. END. The lack of time outdoors in the sunshine is taking it's toll on pretty much the entire Northeast, and my kiddo and I are no exception. One thing remains true: Johnny is Johnny, no matter what you do!

The most recent bit of excitement in our lives has been a kiddo milestone that Johnny has reached. The other day, he lost his first tooth. Unfortunately, he swallowed it. I don't think that this would have been a huge deal, had it not been his very first lost tooth.

We had been over at my mom's house for dinner that evening, and he proudly showed his grammy and pappy the wiggling tooth. For part of his dinner, he ate an apple. I thought nothing of it. On our way home, I stopped by the drive-thru CVS near our house, and in the middle of going to pay, he started shouting from the back seat, "It's gone! It's gone! I lost my tooth!". Well, this seemed to be exciting and fun until we realized that the tooth was nowhere to be seen. After searching all around him in the car and in the folds of his jacket, we called my mom to have her look around her house wherever he had been. The wonderful lady at the window who was watching all of this unfold was very positive and continued telling Johnny that either way, it would be okay, sometimes kids just swallow them. While she was just trying to help and certainly said what I would have said to any kid in that situation, it threw him for a loop. She even offered him a lollipop, which he usually isn't allowed to have because of the sugar content, but seeing that it was just a little dum-dum, I made an exception because I felt horrible that he was so upset and the lady unassumingly had made it worse.

As I'm driving home, Johnny's wails run the gamut from being sure the Tooth Fairy wouldn't come if there was no tooth, to needing to go to the hospital to get the tooth out of his belly because you're not supposed to swallow teeth and he might die. It isn't every day that you hear a kid wail, "I need a doctor!!!" repeatedly. (Truthfully, he was really worried. He was more concerned about it hurting him than he was about getting it back. He was convinced that it would kill him, because teeth don't belong in your belly!) Once we got home, it took some serious explaining and quite a bit of reasoning with Mr. Logical about the situation.

1. Kids swallow their teeth accidentally all of the time, the Tooth Fairy understands and other kids have all lived.
2. In order to ensure that the Tooth Fairy realizes that he lost the tooth, we can simply leave her a note.
3. Yes, you're right, the tooth fairy must be busy checking under every boy and girl's pillow every night, not knowing when or if anyone has lost any teeth.
4. Expect $1 bill from the Tooth Fairy.
5. The faster you relax, calm down, and get to bed, the faster the Tooth Fairy can come.

While he argued that the Tooth Fairy really might not realize to even come and check under his pillow to begin with, and time doesn't actually speed up no matter what you do, I did eventually talk him into writing a letter to the Tooth Fairy and got him off to bed only about 45 minutes later than usual. Note: he also needed a full scientific explanation as to the journey his tooth will take through his body, all the way down to where it will end up... and no, mama will not retrieve it from it's final destination.

You would think that this was the end of the Tooth Fairy drama, but you would be wrong.

Ecstatic about his dollar, Johnny came running to me at about 4am and decided he needed to hop in my bed and tell me all about it. I couldn't help but smile, and pulled back the blankets for him to join me. I had only just fallen asleep myself, and I'm pretty sure I dozed throughout the conversation. When daylight came and we began getting ready for school, he was off on his merry way and good to go. Then, walking out the door, he realized his dollar was missing. Queue panic. Honestly, I was in a hurry and while it might not have been the most gentle way to handle the situation, I picked him up and carried him to the car, assuring him that we would find it when we got home.

Johnny proceeds to get home that afternoon and scour the entire house. As it became apparent to me that he really might not find it, I pulled another dollar out of my wallet and just dropped it on the floor. However, the newly appointed Mr. Observation was able to tell that it wasn't the same dollar. He still can't explain to me how he knows, but he instantly knew it "didn't look the same" as the other one, (neither had any markings from what I could remember-- but knowing my kid, he looked at the serial number) and insisted that I must have lost my own dollar. I admitted that I had lost a dollar, but that he could keep that one and I'd just take the other one if it ever showed up. Um... nice try, mama. He wanted the one the Tooth Fairy gave him. No amount of talking could convince him otherwise. He set out on another search, to no avail. Finally he decided that he would hold my dollar for me to "keep it safe" until he found his own.

Oh my word-- I had no idea that being the Tooth Fairy would be such an involved job! It remains both amusing and sometimes frustrating to me that Johnny's brain works so differently from a lot of other children. I know that mine is just the same, but it doesn't make it easy sometimes. Most other kids are a little more trusting of whatever explanation you give for a situation. And goodness, noticing that it was a different dollar? Really? It remains amazing to me how capable both he and I are at observing the little details with random things in life, yet remain incapable of picking up on details pertaining to people. In the end, my job as the Tooth Fairy may have been less than perfectly executed, but at least I'll know what might be coming the next time around.