The Explosive Child (My very long post)

All I can say, is it's been difficult lately.  Tyler has had a tremendously difficult summer.  I'm not sure if he's growing into himself, getting extremely tired, just frustrated at life, or if it's a combination of everything.  In the picture below, I am sitting with Tyler on a Saturday morning.  I think Connor took this picture (as he randomly will pick up the camera and start taking pictures of things - and yes - I'm still in my pretty pajamas.  Yes, sporting my classy beer shirt.)  It wasn't until I saw this picture, until I realized what I really needed to do.

 Could you imagine a more unhappy 5 year old?  And if I remember correctly, there really wasn't anything that spurred this.  This is a normal emotional reaction for Tyler.  

Today I had some time, so I sat on our deck and read the book "The Explosive Child".  I had a good friend I met on the internet recommend this to me a while ago, and when I got it, I read the first page that was the story of a 15 year old child, and thought, "This book certainly isn't for me...", and put it away.  I'm not sure what spurred me to pick it up today, but I think it might've been out of pure desperation, hope, and maybe prayer that guided me to this book that is going to be a total savior. 

I always knew Tyler was a "different" child.  And by different, I cannot describe it to anyone.  My friends don't understand, my family doesn't understand, and sometimes, even Kyle doesn't understand.  He was different from the day he was born.  From the day we had to blow up that stupid "bouncy ball" in the living room (the exercise ball that to my dying day, I will hate) just in order to soothe him.  He did not like to be rocked, and did not like to be left alone.  He wanted to be bounced, constantly, and it. was. exhausting.  And that is putting it lightly.

Okay, okay... everyone reading this will say, "Yea, yea,  babies are babies, and he couldn't have been that bad...", but seriously, to this day, I have never had a sitter for more than an hour that wasn't family.  Wasn't someone that I could bare my soul to, and tell them just how it was going to be, and would still love me when it was all over.

This summer, Tyler had T-ball.  What an awesome opportunity to meet some new friends, play a sport he liked, and hang out with daddy, who was going to be one of the coaches.  But it didn't turn out that way.

 Daddy pitching to Tyler, the last time Tyler hit for the season, right before a massive meltdown.

It was horrible.  Just, plain, horrible.  I dreaded the nights as they came, because we knew what we were in for.  Tyler would decide about 2 minutes into the game not to play, and would just sit on the bench, as the rest of his team was on the field, and then would throw the most MASSIVE fit in the world when we wouldn't let him hit the time it was his turn, because he wouldn't play the outfield when it was his turn.  It was embarrassing, it was exhausting, and it was just plain horrible (I've run out of words to describe it).  

Tyler getting "gloved up" before he hit.

We threatened to take him home, to shave off his mohawk when he had it, and take toys away.  Nothing worked.  When Tyler decided he didn't want to do anything, he wasn't going to do it.  

So it was a combination of all of this, that made me pick up this book today, and I actually cried while reading it.  Chapter 2 is titled "Children Do Well If They Can".  Reading the following part brought the tears to my eyes:

"Some children are inflexible and easily frustrated from the moment they pop into the world.  For example, infants with difficult temperaments may be colicky, have irregular sleep patterns, have difficulties with feeding, may be difficult to comfort or soothe, may overreact to noises, lights, and discomfort (hunger, cold, a wet diaper, etc.), and respond poorly to changes.  Other children may not begin to have difficulty with flexibility and frustration tolerance until later, when demands increase for skills such as language, organization, impulse control, regulation of emotions, and social skills.  

Here's the important point:  The children about whom this book is written do not choose to be explosive - any more than a child would choose to have a reading disability - but they are delayed in the process of developing the skills essential for flexibility and frustration tolerance.  It follows that conventional explanations as to why children explode or refuse to do as they are told - "He's doing it for attention", "He just wants his own way", "He's manipulating us", "He could do better if he really wanted to", "He does just fine when he chooses to" - miss the mark.  There's a big difference between viewing explosive behavior as the result of the failure to progress developmentally and viewing it as learned, planned, intentional, goal-oriented, and purposeful.  That's because your interpretation of a child's explosive behavior will be closely linked to how you try to change this behavior.  In other words, your explanation  guides your intervention." 

Wow, I kept thinking to myself.  This is Tyler.  You can see in his eyes how he just doesn't understand what is happening at times, why he is the way he is, and how embarrassed he is after an "episode".  I even made a list of their "suggested triggers" for one of his meltdowns, and on their suggested list of "possible" triggers, I did not need to go far beyond it.  Getting ready for school, taking a different route home from school, stopping at the store - unexpectedly, or sometimes just a tag in a shirt, is enough to send him totally over the edge, into a complete meltdown.  I've been late for work before because he had a meltdown over the socks he was wearing.  Socks.  Seriously.  

I'm really excited to put into practice some of the suggestions the book made, and even used one, very proudly tonight.  We were at a friends house across town, and Tyler wanted me to just go home and get his scooter because there were other boys in the neighborhood on scooters.  I got down to his level, and talked to him.  Instead of simply barking a "NO" at him and yelling "I am NOT going home Tyler, that is NOT an option", we talked through it.  Why it really wouldn't be a good idea to drive all the way across down for a scooter, and since that wasn't an option, is there anything else we could do that would help make him not so mad.  (And seriously, I used that simple of language).  

Guess what - no meltdown.  No tears.  And I kept my cool - something that normally wouldn't happening in that situation.  The books say you will feel like you are "giving in" to them, and in a way, I did, because he didn't get mad, but that's the point.  I am finding a way to communicate with Tyler in a way he understands.  I'm teaching Kyle what I learned too, and it's amazing.  I'm excited to see where this takes us, and where we can take Tyler now. 

Maybe it's the hidden psychologist in me that is just dying to come out.  I've listened to CDs about brain development, and read books about "What's Going on in There", which explains the brain development of children, and all children are different.  I knew Tyler was a different, but not different, special, child, from about the time he was 2 weeks old.  I knew most kids weren't like him, and I knew it would take me, changing myself, to help get us (both him and I) to where he needs to be.

Kyle and I talked to what do we do next summer, with T-ball.  Do we register him and not have him play a full game again, or just save our $20 and forget it?  I think we'll make it now. 

And as one of my favorite bloggers, Kelle Hampton says,  "Look for good, and you will find it..."