Many who read my blog, and many who know our son personally, assume that he has been diagnosed with high functioning autism or an autism spectrum disorder. Over the last eleven years, he has been given many different diagnoses because none of the currently available diagnosed disorders accurately apply to him. He has been labeled as having global developmental delays, developmental motor coordination disorder, expressive language disorder, hypotonia, coordination disorder, Attention Deficit Disorder, learning disorder, auditory processing disorder, and neurological impairment. Because he is very social, he has never met the qualifying characteristics for an autism spectrum disorder.
Recently, I have started reading research that is being conducted on females on the autism spectrum. Some new studies report that the qualifying characteristics of autism may present themselves differently in females than in males which may account for their under-representation within the disorder. Similar findings have been found in research when it comes to females and ADD and males when it comes to depression. In each condition, gender may play a role in how the individual tends to display the characteristics of that particular disorder. I have also started reading some clinical research on the characteristics of rigid learners as I think it accurately describes some of my son's learning styles and tendencies.
Regardless, accurate diagnosis or not, we are raising a child who is impulsive, unorganized, resistant to change, and prone to internalize his concerns and anxieties. When life is rolling along as expected, all routines and events proceeding as planned, our life is easy, pleasant, even fun. Unfortunately, life doesn't roll along without bumps and pitfalls along the way. It's full of unexpected twists and turns. As in all families, these are the moments that present us with challenges to address as individuals and as a family.
For most emotionally mature individuals, when life throws something at them that is unexpected, they stop; assess the situation; choose a course of action; and proceed. Unfortunately, when you are dealing with someone who is not yet emotionally mature, or who is rigid in their processing, the stumbling block can become insurmountable. He becomes mired in the moment without the ability to assess, choose, and move forward with a course of action. Our son has this tendency. Minor changes in schedule; minor changes in how he imagined or expected something to be; or minor changes in how he planned something, can cause him to shut down resulting in behavior or emotional strain that must be addressed. For example, I received a call from the school forewarning me that the music director had changed the afternoon schedule to allow the kids time to return to their homerooms to hand in their Chromebooks before dismissing for the day. A thoughtful change on the director's part. Unfortunately, this change had not been discussed with the students in advance so our son hadn't had time to process how this would impact him. He become stuck in that moment of trying to process the change. He repetitively stated that he couldn't go get his Chromebook and return it because he would be late to meet his brother (who meets him after school and drives him home - who has no time set in stone - who wouldn't leave without him). It didn't matter how logical their arguments to try to convince him that it was okay. He would have time. He could go get his Chromebook. He would make it back in time. It wasn't a big deal. The rationalizing, explaining, and soothing continued to no avail. Our son cried and spun (literally) and repeated himself over and over. This new teaching team had never witnessed this side of our son and had no idea how to help him move forward. They wanted to let us know that our oldest son was getting our youngest son in an agitated state. I assured them that our oldest son was unfortunately more than used to this and more than capable of coping with the situation. One of the blessings/curses of growing up with a brother like his is an increased ability to deal with an irrational child.
My husband has been having migraines for over twelve days now. He has lost his sense of taste, except for bitter. As a result, an MRI has been ordered for this coming week. Over the last two weeks, our son has been incredibly impulsive and disorganized in his thinking. His defiant behavior has also increased. I have deliberately checked my attitude and my response to his behavior. I've also attempted to make time for the two of us to do activities together that he enjoys. My husband was questioning this morning what could be the cause of this new change in behavior. (We often problem solve together when we notice new trends or concerns in behavior) I told him I wanted to get some one-on-one time to talk to our son because I felt the behavior was rooted in his concern for my husband and his undiagnosed medical condition. Because our son tends to internalize his worries, he doesn't vocalize the things that are upsetting him. Instead, we tend to see behaviors that indicate something is wrong. By chance, while I was getting ready for the day, my son wandered into my room. I casually asked him if he had any questions or concerns about how his Dad has been feeling lately. Wow! Open the floodgates! His biggest worry? Did his Dad have cancer? He saw on an old episode of ER that a guy had to get an MRI of his head and it showed that he had cancer and was going to die. Wow! All that has been living in that brain that didn't know what to do with it. So we talked. We talked about what has been going on; how Dad has been feeling; what it could be; what they would do to test for a cause; what we would do as a family to deal with it. It was a good moment. We followed it up by going out on the river fishing, just the three of us. The day has been much smoother since then. Is it a magic cure? No. But it gives us insight into what may be driving the recent changes in behavior (besides those pre-teen hormones).
Because our son is quickly approaching his teen years; because he no longer wants us to "work with him"; because he just wants us to be his parents and not his teachers, we are going to discuss options with his neurology team at this week's appointment. Is there someone in our area who works with kids on social skills training? Is there someone in the area that works with kids on processing how he feels and putting those feelings into positive action? We are quickly approaching the point in life where he wants us to be his parents who love him and hold him accountable and guide him but do not "help him" or "teach him" as we have had to do in the past. We now need to outsource that duty to someone dependable. In the meantime, we will encourage an open dialogue with him to help him find his voice. His empathy skills are already phenomenal. His sense-confidence is light years ahead of where it should be for his age and circumstances. His understanding of himself and how he works, is growing stronger year by year. He is becoming a member of his own treatment team. I pray we find the right person to help us guide him on that journey. I pray we continue to have the patience and endurance to guide him as he grows. Some days are easy. Some days are hard and we don't feel up to the challenge. Our roles are changing as he grows. I pray we recognize when it is time to step forward, time to step back, or time to walk alongside our young man as he grows.
Saturday, November 25, 2017
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
Fighting For Success When It Doesn't Seem To Be Enough
We seem to be living in an ever increasingly angry and violent world. Many people are looking for big answers to big, complex problems. I recognize that those types of solutions are above my pay grade. As a result, I will continue to do my part, one child at a time, one parent at a time, one day at a time. It's all I can do to help a seemingly lost world.
Monday through Friday, my day starts at 4:45 AM. I leave my house by 6:15 AM, most days before my children's feet have even hit the first floor of our home. With construction in all directions, my daily commute has stretched to a lovely hour one way in a little Hyundai Sonata. It gives me lots of time to think, and plan, and analyze. Sometimes too much time.
I think about my children. How much I love them. How proud I am of the strong, healthy, happy, young men that they seem to be becoming. How I need to help them continue to grow and develop. How I need to push them to do better, be better, aim higher.
I think about my other children. The children in my classroom. Who is too quiet? Who isn't quiet enough? Who needs extra hugs? Who always seems to want a hug? Who needs to be more active? Who needs to be less active? Are my methods helping? Are my methods hurting? Am I pushing them too hard? Am I pushing them enough? What can I do to push them to do better, be better, aim higher?
I think about my parents. The parents of the children in my classroom. Who do I know by name? Who don't I know at all? Who seems to want help? Who seems to want me to leave them alone? How can I support them more? How can I communicate more effectively? Do they have any idea how much I absolutely love their child just the way he or she is? Do they know the child that I know in my classroom? Do they share their days with each other? Do they share how they feel about this crazy world they are living in? Am I doing enough?
I'm often tired from not enough sleep and from trying to fit it all in but I love this job. I truly love it. I'm good at it and it makes me feel good about my place in this world. After twenty-one years, I can usually identify if a kiddo has trouble learning because he is tired, or has sensory issues, or has developmental issues, or is simply sad. It's one of my strengths. There are so many things that impact learning. It is so much more than giving someone a book or technology or even knowledge. Is the child hot or cold? Is the child sad or mad? Is he hungry or full? Is she sick or lonely? Did mom and dad have a fight? Did someone get sick? Is she sick? Did someone die? Did someone change the routine at home? All of it impacts learning.
At the end of the day, I climb back in my little car and drive back home, this time in heavier more congested traffic. As I pull into my driveway, I say a prayer that my oldest son cared enough to bring home schoolwork to work on after working all night. I say a prayer that I remember to ask him and to remind him to care enough to dig it out and work on it. It's so easy to let him coast. School is easy for him. He asks for so little help. I still need to put in the effort. It matters. He matters.
I say a prayer that my youngest son had a good day. That he remembered all his materials. That he wrote in his agenda. That the teachers posted information on their websites or the school messaging system. I pray that people were kind to him. That his schedule didn't get changed or altered causing him to become angry or tearful or to completely come unglued. I pray that I walk into a happy, calm, welcoming home and not a frustrated battlefield of anxiety fed distress. I pray for the strength to help him through the things I prayed would not happen because more often than not, they did, and they will. I pray for patience. I pray for understanding. It matters. He matters.
I pray that I can help my sons become their best selves while fitting in the time to help my families at school become their best selves. Putting off schoolwork until his work is completed and he is settled in for the evening. Working until eight or nine most nights. It matters. They matter.
When the nights come and things are everything I prayed they wouldn't be, I try to remind myself that he has teachers who possess unique strengths and weaknesses and individual worries and concerns that I know nothing about. I do not know their circumstances. I do not know their secret, behind the scenes efforts. I do not have their experiences and they do not have mine. They may not have been trained for eighteen years in a corrections setting by students that no one else wanted to teach. Students that were tossed aside and who challenge you to care about them even as they made it harder to do so. They may not have been trained by a son that can't regulate or organize or focus. A son who challenges you to care if he succeeds or fails, even as he makes it harder to do so. On those nights, I remind myself that I need to reach out. I need to communicate with them. I need to educate them about my son and about what works for him/with him. I need to help them help me make my son successful. I need to put forth the extra effort. I also need to be willing to listen and to learn. It matters.
Sometimes I'm tired. Giving 100% in a world that seems so angry and violent is exhausting. It doesn't seem like it's enough but it's all I can do. It's all I have to give. I pray it is enough for my sons. For my students. For my families. Because they matter. And maybe if they matter enough, even just to me, it will be enough. At least for them. Maybe in turn they will go out and give 100%. Because it matters. We all matter.
I pray for us all.
Monday through Friday, my day starts at 4:45 AM. I leave my house by 6:15 AM, most days before my children's feet have even hit the first floor of our home. With construction in all directions, my daily commute has stretched to a lovely hour one way in a little Hyundai Sonata. It gives me lots of time to think, and plan, and analyze. Sometimes too much time.
I think about my children. How much I love them. How proud I am of the strong, healthy, happy, young men that they seem to be becoming. How I need to help them continue to grow and develop. How I need to push them to do better, be better, aim higher.
I think about my other children. The children in my classroom. Who is too quiet? Who isn't quiet enough? Who needs extra hugs? Who always seems to want a hug? Who needs to be more active? Who needs to be less active? Are my methods helping? Are my methods hurting? Am I pushing them too hard? Am I pushing them enough? What can I do to push them to do better, be better, aim higher?
I think about my parents. The parents of the children in my classroom. Who do I know by name? Who don't I know at all? Who seems to want help? Who seems to want me to leave them alone? How can I support them more? How can I communicate more effectively? Do they have any idea how much I absolutely love their child just the way he or she is? Do they know the child that I know in my classroom? Do they share their days with each other? Do they share how they feel about this crazy world they are living in? Am I doing enough?
I'm often tired from not enough sleep and from trying to fit it all in but I love this job. I truly love it. I'm good at it and it makes me feel good about my place in this world. After twenty-one years, I can usually identify if a kiddo has trouble learning because he is tired, or has sensory issues, or has developmental issues, or is simply sad. It's one of my strengths. There are so many things that impact learning. It is so much more than giving someone a book or technology or even knowledge. Is the child hot or cold? Is the child sad or mad? Is he hungry or full? Is she sick or lonely? Did mom and dad have a fight? Did someone get sick? Is she sick? Did someone die? Did someone change the routine at home? All of it impacts learning.
At the end of the day, I climb back in my little car and drive back home, this time in heavier more congested traffic. As I pull into my driveway, I say a prayer that my oldest son cared enough to bring home schoolwork to work on after working all night. I say a prayer that I remember to ask him and to remind him to care enough to dig it out and work on it. It's so easy to let him coast. School is easy for him. He asks for so little help. I still need to put in the effort. It matters. He matters.
I say a prayer that my youngest son had a good day. That he remembered all his materials. That he wrote in his agenda. That the teachers posted information on their websites or the school messaging system. I pray that people were kind to him. That his schedule didn't get changed or altered causing him to become angry or tearful or to completely come unglued. I pray that I walk into a happy, calm, welcoming home and not a frustrated battlefield of anxiety fed distress. I pray for the strength to help him through the things I prayed would not happen because more often than not, they did, and they will. I pray for patience. I pray for understanding. It matters. He matters.
I pray that I can help my sons become their best selves while fitting in the time to help my families at school become their best selves. Putting off schoolwork until his work is completed and he is settled in for the evening. Working until eight or nine most nights. It matters. They matter.
When the nights come and things are everything I prayed they wouldn't be, I try to remind myself that he has teachers who possess unique strengths and weaknesses and individual worries and concerns that I know nothing about. I do not know their circumstances. I do not know their secret, behind the scenes efforts. I do not have their experiences and they do not have mine. They may not have been trained for eighteen years in a corrections setting by students that no one else wanted to teach. Students that were tossed aside and who challenge you to care about them even as they made it harder to do so. They may not have been trained by a son that can't regulate or organize or focus. A son who challenges you to care if he succeeds or fails, even as he makes it harder to do so. On those nights, I remind myself that I need to reach out. I need to communicate with them. I need to educate them about my son and about what works for him/with him. I need to help them help me make my son successful. I need to put forth the extra effort. I also need to be willing to listen and to learn. It matters.
Sometimes I'm tired. Giving 100% in a world that seems so angry and violent is exhausting. It doesn't seem like it's enough but it's all I can do. It's all I have to give. I pray it is enough for my sons. For my students. For my families. Because they matter. And maybe if they matter enough, even just to me, it will be enough. At least for them. Maybe in turn they will go out and give 100%. Because it matters. We all matter.
I pray for us all.
Wednesday, September 13, 2017
Finding the Strength
As my son ages, I find myself blogging less and less. It's not that I have less to say. More that our life is very full and I'm trying to find the balance in blogging and safeguarding my son's privacy as he's entering those challenging teen years. In the early years, this blog was my free therapy. Who has time for counseling?!? I never thought anyone would actually read it. Seriously? Who cares about a middle age mom with a kid like mine? But I wrote it anyway because my blog was an outlet for the fear, hurt, and confusion that comes with raising a child with special needs. As time went on, it became evident that people were reading it. People in Thailand and Germany and Russia. People in France and Japan and the United States. I got messages from people all around the world asking questions. Looking for answers. I got messages from people thanking me for sharing my experiences because it helped them better understand kids with special needs. Many of them had no experience with a child like mine. Reading about our experiences made them more mindful, less judgmental, even kinder. Most importantly, I got messages from parents saying "Thank you. I'm not alone. Someone else feels the way I feel and experiences what I experience."
With all of that said, let me take advantage of my free therapy, my online support system, and tell you about the start of this new school year. It's been entertaining to say the least. (She said half laughing, half weeping.) Our youngest son has entered the sixth grade. Middle school. If you've been following along, you remember that he transitioned to middle school last year in the fifth grade with much anticipation and trepidation. We were fearful to say the least. When his learning support teacher left for a different teaching position within weeks of starting the year, our fear turned to terror. What were we going to do? How was he going to adjust? Amazingly, he had the best school year that he's had in years. That replacement learning support teacher? A gift from God. She GOT him. I mean really, truly GOT him. Understood him. She had the unique talent and ability to balance holding him accountable, while pushing him further, while supporting him as he stretched and grew. She was a blessing. His whole year was a blessing. Honor roll. Distinguished honor roll. It was amazing. He was amazing.
Last year was so amazing that when we got his PSSA scores and he once again scored Below Basic in English/Language Arts and Basic in math, we were angered and outraged on his behalf. After all his hard work; all their hard work; all our hard work, his scores had not improved. Our frustration inspired me to reach out to our special education director and ask what could be done. Our son who desperately needs positive peer interaction was kept from attending school clubs and groups because he has constant PSSA remediation. Yet, the PSSA scores did not reflect those remediation efforts or his outstanding report card grades. What could be done? In complete agreement that life is more than a standardized test that is not designed to reflect the efforts of any child with learning issues, she took our concern to the school superintendent. God bless this man!!!! He is a true child advocate and teacher advocate. He made the decision to allow kids like our son to take part in school activities as long as their efforts continue and their grades reflect those efforts. Score one for the kids! Thank you sir. We are forever in your debt.
This year isn't what any of us expected. Our son started school thrilled with life because his brother got a truck and is taking him to school everyday. No more riding the bus with the mean girl. He was given permission to join groups and clubs. He's switching to percussion in the band. Last year, he had excellent report cards. In his mind, he had this school thing all figured out. It was finally all going his way. His new catch phrase was "I got this Mom!"
Then reality struck. Fast forward to the present. It has not been a pretty transition. Over the summer, his blocking and stuttering had decreased so much so that his family doctor wanted to take it off his medical record. I asked him not to. Thank goodness I did. Since school has started, he is back to blocking. He's back to stuttering. The drooling has returned. He has eaten two shirt collars within the last week. The old anxiety behaviors are all back with a vengeance. Bedtime has been a nightmare. He can't sleep. He has an upset stomach all the time. He's developing migraines so severe that he had to leave school vomiting. In the first two weeks of school, he incorrectly attended three classes that he wasn't supposed to be in. He forgot to attend another class that he was supposed to attend. His learning support teacher is on maternity leave until the end of the first quarter so he is trying to transition to a new grade with new teachers and new expectations with a substitute. Today, I got a call from the school from his teacher because he's had an issue in her room two days in a row.
I"m a teacher with all the preparation and planning that goes with that position. In addition, I commute an hour and a half everyday. I'm president of the band parent association at our sons' school. My husband is an officer in the fire company. Our lives are FULL! How do we manage it all? How do we make it all work? No. Seriously. I'm asking....
Okay. He's what we do. We pray. I mean specific "Thanks God. You are mighty and awesome and all powerful. But Lord... I need X, Y, and Z to get through this night." Specific, meaningful, heartfelt prayer. We ask our friends and loved ones to pray, those same specific needs. We take a deep breath and we just breathe. We communicate. Together and with those that can be a support for us. We listen. Son, what's happening? What do you need? How can we fix this? What are your plans for this situation in the future? We problem solve as a family and as a team. We read and research and make suggestions when we think we have an idea or a solution. We communicate with the school team (even if they don't always seem thrilled to hear from you). Most importantly, we love one another. Even when it's not fun and it's not easy and it would be easier to give up or give in. Giving up is never an option.
And sometimes... just sometimes... all the pieces come together beautifully, as if maybe God is up there laughing, saying "Child, I had you the whole time." and you find yourself on the other side of the ugly in a better place than you started. God is good. He sees us through. He is our rock and our foundation. Those aren't just words. They are our truth. I AM NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO DO THIS ON MY OWN. God is my strength. God is my salvation. God answers prayer. He did today. He does everyday.... even when we can't see it in the darkness.
Don't give up. You are not alone.
With all of that said, let me take advantage of my free therapy, my online support system, and tell you about the start of this new school year. It's been entertaining to say the least. (She said half laughing, half weeping.) Our youngest son has entered the sixth grade. Middle school. If you've been following along, you remember that he transitioned to middle school last year in the fifth grade with much anticipation and trepidation. We were fearful to say the least. When his learning support teacher left for a different teaching position within weeks of starting the year, our fear turned to terror. What were we going to do? How was he going to adjust? Amazingly, he had the best school year that he's had in years. That replacement learning support teacher? A gift from God. She GOT him. I mean really, truly GOT him. Understood him. She had the unique talent and ability to balance holding him accountable, while pushing him further, while supporting him as he stretched and grew. She was a blessing. His whole year was a blessing. Honor roll. Distinguished honor roll. It was amazing. He was amazing.
Last year was so amazing that when we got his PSSA scores and he once again scored Below Basic in English/Language Arts and Basic in math, we were angered and outraged on his behalf. After all his hard work; all their hard work; all our hard work, his scores had not improved. Our frustration inspired me to reach out to our special education director and ask what could be done. Our son who desperately needs positive peer interaction was kept from attending school clubs and groups because he has constant PSSA remediation. Yet, the PSSA scores did not reflect those remediation efforts or his outstanding report card grades. What could be done? In complete agreement that life is more than a standardized test that is not designed to reflect the efforts of any child with learning issues, she took our concern to the school superintendent. God bless this man!!!! He is a true child advocate and teacher advocate. He made the decision to allow kids like our son to take part in school activities as long as their efforts continue and their grades reflect those efforts. Score one for the kids! Thank you sir. We are forever in your debt.
This year isn't what any of us expected. Our son started school thrilled with life because his brother got a truck and is taking him to school everyday. No more riding the bus with the mean girl. He was given permission to join groups and clubs. He's switching to percussion in the band. Last year, he had excellent report cards. In his mind, he had this school thing all figured out. It was finally all going his way. His new catch phrase was "I got this Mom!"
Then reality struck. Fast forward to the present. It has not been a pretty transition. Over the summer, his blocking and stuttering had decreased so much so that his family doctor wanted to take it off his medical record. I asked him not to. Thank goodness I did. Since school has started, he is back to blocking. He's back to stuttering. The drooling has returned. He has eaten two shirt collars within the last week. The old anxiety behaviors are all back with a vengeance. Bedtime has been a nightmare. He can't sleep. He has an upset stomach all the time. He's developing migraines so severe that he had to leave school vomiting. In the first two weeks of school, he incorrectly attended three classes that he wasn't supposed to be in. He forgot to attend another class that he was supposed to attend. His learning support teacher is on maternity leave until the end of the first quarter so he is trying to transition to a new grade with new teachers and new expectations with a substitute. Today, I got a call from the school from his teacher because he's had an issue in her room two days in a row.
I"m a teacher with all the preparation and planning that goes with that position. In addition, I commute an hour and a half everyday. I'm president of the band parent association at our sons' school. My husband is an officer in the fire company. Our lives are FULL! How do we manage it all? How do we make it all work? No. Seriously. I'm asking....
Okay. He's what we do. We pray. I mean specific "Thanks God. You are mighty and awesome and all powerful. But Lord... I need X, Y, and Z to get through this night." Specific, meaningful, heartfelt prayer. We ask our friends and loved ones to pray, those same specific needs. We take a deep breath and we just breathe. We communicate. Together and with those that can be a support for us. We listen. Son, what's happening? What do you need? How can we fix this? What are your plans for this situation in the future? We problem solve as a family and as a team. We read and research and make suggestions when we think we have an idea or a solution. We communicate with the school team (even if they don't always seem thrilled to hear from you). Most importantly, we love one another. Even when it's not fun and it's not easy and it would be easier to give up or give in. Giving up is never an option.
And sometimes... just sometimes... all the pieces come together beautifully, as if maybe God is up there laughing, saying "Child, I had you the whole time." and you find yourself on the other side of the ugly in a better place than you started. God is good. He sees us through. He is our rock and our foundation. Those aren't just words. They are our truth. I AM NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO DO THIS ON MY OWN. God is my strength. God is my salvation. God answers prayer. He did today. He does everyday.... even when we can't see it in the darkness.
Don't give up. You are not alone.
Wednesday, March 29, 2017
Shining Moments After the Storm
Walking in the door from work, I walked straight into the early stages of a full on meltdown. After a full day of work and a forty-five minute drive home, I resisted the urge to turn around and walk back out the door. Long story short, our youngest son hadn't listened to his older brother's repeated requests to sit down on the bus, fell as the bus made a turn, and badly jammed his finger. It was bruised, swollen, and quite painful. His brother was frustrated and angry. He was embarrassed and hurting. Attempts to talk to him, examine the injury, or process the situation further escalated the situation. Before he could reach a point of no control, I wrapped his hand in a icy water bag (which he strongly resisted), wrapped his hand with a towel, settled him on the couch, and wrapped him in the softest fleece blanket that we own. Whenever he attempted to talk, cry, fuss, or spin, I simply re-tucked the blanket, soothed, shushed, and settled him again. I then left him alone to fuss to himself as I unloaded his backpack and attempted to decipher our homework agenda for the evening. Once I had his homework laid out, pencils, chew toppers, and erasers gathered, and his weighted lap throw heated and ready, I went to see if he could move forward with his evening. Instead, I discovered him soundly sleeping where I had left him.
My initial reaction to the sight of him peacefully sleeping was "Oh crap!" In the past, an episode like this that led to him sleeping it off meant he was asleep for the evening. With three subjects of homework to complete, I envisioned him getting behind in his schoolwork, further ensuring that we would have more battles and arguments over school and homework. I decided that I would let him sleep for an hour before attempting to rouse him to see if he could regroup and move forward with his evening. It probably wouldn't be pretty but was a better alternative to getting behind in school.
About the time, I was going to start to wake him, he woke with a growl, fuss, and stumble. Apparently, he had woke himself but wasn't fully awake yet. He was confused, in pain, and not processing well. To head off a re-escalation, I steered him toward the shower and sent him for an early bath. He protested, fussed, and continued to react with confusion. Once the warm water hit him, he at started to relax as I had hoped he would. A warm bath is a tool we have used in the past to help him soothe himself when he doesn't seem to be able to regulate himself effectively. Thankfully, it worked this time as well.
After finishing his shower, he was back to his usual pleasant, cooperative self. He was DEFINITELY exhausted though. You could see the fatigue in his face and eyes. I heated him some leftovers, got him a Tylenol and Ibuprofen for his hand, and laid out a simple plan for our evening. Now that the storm had passed, he agreed to all that I suggested. After finishing his food, we attempted and completed all three subjects of homework. It wasn't our greatest evening of learning and comprehension but at least the work was finished. We cleaned up and rewarded ourselves with a cuddle on the couch while we watched cake decorating videos on YouTube. (His choice. He wants to go to culinary school and specialize in cake decorating.)
So, why am I sharing this evening's events with you? Why should you care? It's very simple. This evening's events are a HUGE step in the right direction. He had a meltdown but on a scale from 1 to 10. This was a 5. Our evening had all the ingredients for a really bad night. It had the potential for repercussions that could have caused a ripple through the next several evenings. Instead, we regrouped, recovered, and salvaged the evening, ending it on a very positive note. At bedtime, as he snuggled in bed, we were even able to discuss how his injury had occurred and what could have prevented it. This is progress. Big progress. That progress hasn't just happened over night. It's taken a lot of hard work, consistency, teamwork, and love. Lots and lots of love.
In terms of progress, we are seeing it all around us. While he was sleeping, I had contacted his teacher's by email to let them know that he may not have his homework done. We were going to attempt to get it done but I wanted them forewarned. When I contacted them, I was told that he had received a SOAR card (school wide positive reinforcement) earlier that day for responsible completion of an assignment in his free time. The day before, I had talked with his learning support teacher who shared with me how well he is doing in school and how much she loves working with him. She commented several times about his positive attitude and good work ethic.
My husband, our oldest son, and I processed the evening after our youngest was in bed and asleep for the night. We often discuss where we are at with him and what we need to do. I recognized that it is a serious challenge for all of us to deal with his outbursts some days and to keep him together and functioning outside of our home. But I also had to share what I had been told by his teaching team. He is successful. His learning support teacher said that some of his peers have recently commented on how much better his eating skills have gotten. They said he used to wear his food all over his clothes and now he rarely does. She said that she doesn't have to remind him to clean his face or check himself for neatness. He now does it for himself with few reminders. He has made honor roll every quarter this school year. So far, he even made distinguished honor roll one of the three quarters. I pointed out the significance of that. Two years ago, we sat in a meeting with his teaching team. When I voiced concern that his grades were not what they had been in previous years and I felt he was capable of more, his teacher told me quite plainly that his days of earning A's and B's may be over. I may have to learn to accept that. I agreed and left the comment pass because I knew it came from a well meaning individual who believed that was all that my son was capable of earning. But in my heart, I knew that was not the case. So when we transitioned to the next level of learning, to a new building, new team, new routine, new expectations, and he has earned honor roll every quarter... We celebrate! We rejoice! We give thanks for the growth. We let him shine. And when he shines for them and falls apart for us... We love him through it. We hold him up. We walk beside him through the dark so that we can be there to watch him shine again.
* A very special thank you to my husband and oldest son for walking the journey beside me. Without you both, none of this progress would be possible. I love you both more than words can express.
My initial reaction to the sight of him peacefully sleeping was "Oh crap!" In the past, an episode like this that led to him sleeping it off meant he was asleep for the evening. With three subjects of homework to complete, I envisioned him getting behind in his schoolwork, further ensuring that we would have more battles and arguments over school and homework. I decided that I would let him sleep for an hour before attempting to rouse him to see if he could regroup and move forward with his evening. It probably wouldn't be pretty but was a better alternative to getting behind in school.
About the time, I was going to start to wake him, he woke with a growl, fuss, and stumble. Apparently, he had woke himself but wasn't fully awake yet. He was confused, in pain, and not processing well. To head off a re-escalation, I steered him toward the shower and sent him for an early bath. He protested, fussed, and continued to react with confusion. Once the warm water hit him, he at started to relax as I had hoped he would. A warm bath is a tool we have used in the past to help him soothe himself when he doesn't seem to be able to regulate himself effectively. Thankfully, it worked this time as well.
After finishing his shower, he was back to his usual pleasant, cooperative self. He was DEFINITELY exhausted though. You could see the fatigue in his face and eyes. I heated him some leftovers, got him a Tylenol and Ibuprofen for his hand, and laid out a simple plan for our evening. Now that the storm had passed, he agreed to all that I suggested. After finishing his food, we attempted and completed all three subjects of homework. It wasn't our greatest evening of learning and comprehension but at least the work was finished. We cleaned up and rewarded ourselves with a cuddle on the couch while we watched cake decorating videos on YouTube. (His choice. He wants to go to culinary school and specialize in cake decorating.)
So, why am I sharing this evening's events with you? Why should you care? It's very simple. This evening's events are a HUGE step in the right direction. He had a meltdown but on a scale from 1 to 10. This was a 5. Our evening had all the ingredients for a really bad night. It had the potential for repercussions that could have caused a ripple through the next several evenings. Instead, we regrouped, recovered, and salvaged the evening, ending it on a very positive note. At bedtime, as he snuggled in bed, we were even able to discuss how his injury had occurred and what could have prevented it. This is progress. Big progress. That progress hasn't just happened over night. It's taken a lot of hard work, consistency, teamwork, and love. Lots and lots of love.
In terms of progress, we are seeing it all around us. While he was sleeping, I had contacted his teacher's by email to let them know that he may not have his homework done. We were going to attempt to get it done but I wanted them forewarned. When I contacted them, I was told that he had received a SOAR card (school wide positive reinforcement) earlier that day for responsible completion of an assignment in his free time. The day before, I had talked with his learning support teacher who shared with me how well he is doing in school and how much she loves working with him. She commented several times about his positive attitude and good work ethic.
My husband, our oldest son, and I processed the evening after our youngest was in bed and asleep for the night. We often discuss where we are at with him and what we need to do. I recognized that it is a serious challenge for all of us to deal with his outbursts some days and to keep him together and functioning outside of our home. But I also had to share what I had been told by his teaching team. He is successful. His learning support teacher said that some of his peers have recently commented on how much better his eating skills have gotten. They said he used to wear his food all over his clothes and now he rarely does. She said that she doesn't have to remind him to clean his face or check himself for neatness. He now does it for himself with few reminders. He has made honor roll every quarter this school year. So far, he even made distinguished honor roll one of the three quarters. I pointed out the significance of that. Two years ago, we sat in a meeting with his teaching team. When I voiced concern that his grades were not what they had been in previous years and I felt he was capable of more, his teacher told me quite plainly that his days of earning A's and B's may be over. I may have to learn to accept that. I agreed and left the comment pass because I knew it came from a well meaning individual who believed that was all that my son was capable of earning. But in my heart, I knew that was not the case. So when we transitioned to the next level of learning, to a new building, new team, new routine, new expectations, and he has earned honor roll every quarter... We celebrate! We rejoice! We give thanks for the growth. We let him shine. And when he shines for them and falls apart for us... We love him through it. We hold him up. We walk beside him through the dark so that we can be there to watch him shine again.
* A very special thank you to my husband and oldest son for walking the journey beside me. Without you both, none of this progress would be possible. I love you both more than words can express.
Tuesday, February 14, 2017
My Secret Bad Days
I'm hoping that tonight's post is read and received in the light that it is intended. I have had the idea to share this post for awhile but have repeatedly shied away for fear of how it would be interpreted. That fact that the idea keeps nagging at me lends me the strength to overcome my fears and post it, praying that it will be received with understanding. My intention is to shine light on a parenting truth that lies hidden away deep in a mother's heart. I don't think that I am the only person to feel this way or to feel ashamed that I do feel this way at times. If you can relate and it brings you some peace or if it helps you to understand and feel empathy for another parent, than I will have accomplished my goal.
One of the greatest challenges of parenting is that it is a job without end. Having a child with special needs, medical issues, and/or learning concerns increases the intensity of that job. Working with children all day that share similar needs/characteristics of your own child means that you live in a world immersed in the same trials without end. You go to work and face those challenges. You come home and continue to face those challenges. You go to sleep for too few hours and start the process all over again. The cycle continues without end, day after day, week after week. Most days, you have the strength. You love the challenge. You thrive in the successes. There is joy in overcoming challenges and meeting goals.
But then there are those other days. Those days that you don't want to talk about. You're afraid to share those thoughts with your friends and family. You're hesitant to speak of it to your spouse. You barely dare to acknowledge it to yourself.
Living with a child who finds most aspects of life a challenge can at times be like living in an abusive relationship from which you cannot escape. Cannot. Dare not. They love you with every ounce of their being. Logically you know that. But you are their safe place. You are the one person that they can vent to, vent on, unload on, HATE, and they know that at the end of the day, you will still be there. Keep them safe. Still love them. Still help them keep it together. Still help them move forward. And when it's over for them, when their rage, fear, anxiety, insecurity, frustration has passed, you are left holding the pain of it. As the parent, you must be the adult. You must hold it together. You must parent. Period. No choice.
But sometimes. Just sometimes. You don't want to.
It's painful to admit. Sometimes, when you feel ill, or have a migraine, or you're just plain tired, like deep down in your soul tired, you just don't want to. You feel like you can't. It's almost too much. You're driving home thinking "I don't want to do this tonight. I don't want to fight over homework. I don't want to be the verbal punching bag. I don't want to reason with an unreasonable person. I don't want to face the blowup. I just can't." Then you have people tell you what a great parent you are or tell you how amazing your child is and you think "I'm a hypocrite. It's all lies. If they only knew!"
But the reality is, I don't think I'm alone. I don't think I'm the only one who has these rare but secretly awful, dreadful days. So here's the take away. If you have days like this from time to time, you are not alone. If you choose to love your child through the good AND the bad, putting one foot in front of the other, and getting the hard work of parenting done, then the bad days don't win. Your child wins. You win. Because each day you get them through successfully is a step towards independence, growth, and progress. Each day you brush off the ugly and choose to laugh or find joy is a win for you and your family. Keep fighting. They are worth it. You're worth it. You CAN do this. You are NOT alone.
Monday, January 16, 2017
Managing Meltdowns
I want to start tonight's blog with a disclaimer -
I have a master's degree in education. I am certified to teach N-3/K-6, English K-12, social studies K-12, and I'm "Highly Qualified" in the state of Pennsylvania to teach science K-12 in an alternative setting. In spite of all those fancy credentials, I do NOT consider myself an expert with all the answers. Instead, I would first and foremost consider myself a mother with a teaching background that has gained a lot of experience and knowledge along the way. If my experience and knowledge can help another parent, then I'll feel like I've accomplished something positive. This parenting thing isn't easy. Parenting a child with special needs makes a complicated job even harder. If you're a parent looking for answers and not sure where to turn, you're not in this alone. There are lots of us on the same journey. Maybe we can teach each other something along the way. I know my child has been my greatest teacher.
The number one question I am asked by readers of this blog is "How do you manage a meltdown? What can I do to prevent a meltdown?" I've attempted to answer this question on numerous occasions but it's never a simple answer. There are no right answers when it comes to managing these behaviors. With that said, here's some of my "experience" and "knowledge" on that particular topic.
First, it is helpful if you can identify if the child is losing control because of a behavioral issue or because of an inability to control his/her response to stimulation or a particular situation. For example, there is a clear difference between a child that has thrown herself on the ground and is throwing a screaming temper tantrum in the middle of the store because she was told she can't have candy and a child who has lost control because the lighting, volume, or other sensory stimulation in the store is more than she can tolerate at that moment. In both cases, the behavior needs to be addressed and managed but identifying the source of the behavior may help you better manage the situation.
If your child is prone to meltdown behavior or tantrum behavior, I strongly recommend starting a notebook. Write down the date, time, and location of the meltdown. Who was present? What was the environment like? What was happening prior to the meltdown? Is your child more likely to lose control at home, at school, or in public places? Is your child more likely to lose control with you, with certain family members, with school staff, or with strangers? Is it it more likely to occur in noisy locations? Bright lights? Busy locations? Write down as many environmental factors as you can recall. What did your child have to eat and drink that day? What medications had your child taken? Really take the time to document as much data as you can recall. Hopefully by doing so, a trend will start to emerge that will help you identify a trigger that is setting off the meltdowns.
Okay. In terms of practical, in the moment tools that can be utilized to help manage out of control behaviors, it definitely depends on the level of out of control that we are talking about. Some kids who meltdown, hit themselves or others. Bite themselves or others. Run away or run and hide. Scream and cry. My son's eyes glaze over and lose focus. He loses awareness that we are even there with him. He appears to be lost in his own world. It's hard to witness. It can be hard to manage.
Remain calm. Yeah, right. Easier said than done, huh? But really. Remain calm. Talk a deep breath. Or two. Or three. Remember that this is not about you. It's not personal. This is about your child's inability to manage himself. If you can't remain calm, you can't help him.
Talk very little. If your child is truly melting down, he isn't even processing what you are saying. Talking tends to escalate the situation and keeps you from remaining calm. If you talk, use a calm voice. Short phrases. "Shh. It's okay." "Shh. Let's just breath." Make your voice soothing. Model the breathing.
Touch only to maintain safety or to soothe. If your child will allow you to hold him and rock him, then by all means use that tool to soothe. For some children, the combination of rocking and soothing whispers helps to calm and soothe. If physical touch further escalates your child, then only touch to keep him from hurting himself or others. Touch can be useful as a tool to reconnect once the child is calmer but for some children, touch at that moment feels like a violation, an attempt to control. If your child is prone to frequent meltdowns and physical violence during those meltdowns, I strongly recommend seeking out a course in Safe Crisis Management. These classes teach de-escalation skills and safe ways to help manage your child's physical aggressiveness. Never pin your child to the floor with your body weight. Never tie your child up or attempt to use physical restraints in any way. The child could be injured and the emotional trauma could increase the likelihood of future meltdowns.
As your child loses steam and starts to calm down, help her to continue to calm herself. This is NOT the time to give consequences or discuss what started the episode. Instead, help the child to bring herself back under control. This may be a good time to sit beside her and talk calmly and quietly. "That's right. We're calming down. Take some nice slow breathes." If she finds it soothing, rubbing her back or giving a loose hug may reassure her that she is still loved in spite of her loss of control. Focus on slow breathing. Focus on calming down completely. Some children will fall asleep afterward. Allow her to rest. There is plenty of time to follow up after she is in a better state of mind.
I'll get into prevention in a minute but first, follow up after a meltdown is vital. When a child loses control, it is important to follow up to discuss what happened, to reconnect as family members, and to problem solve how to repair the situation. These conversations should be calm and loving. Keep the facts short and to the point. Try not to use accusatory words and tone of voice. When your home and life are disrupted by these episodes it's not easy to keep it impersonal but it needs to be. The focus should remain on helping the child identify what went wrong and how to fix it. "Before we talk, I need you to know that I love you and I'm always going to love you. When we went to the store today, we needed to leave early because you became overwhelmed by the situation. Let's talk about what we can do differently next time." Take the time to listen to what your child has to say. Offer suggestions or ideas. See how they react. If your child is younger or lower functioning, this step may need to be kept very simple. "I love you. I'm sorry we had a hard time at the store today. It hurts to see you that upset. How does it make you feel when that happens? I wonder what we can do differently next time to make it easier for you to go to the store and help me." The follow up conversation is critically important to re-establish the bond that may feel bruised after an explosive episode.
In terms of preventing meltdowns, that brings us back to our earlier conversation about identifying triggers. If you can identify what triggers your child's meltdowns, it gives you something to work with. The intensity of some triggers such as smell or noise aversions may be reduced by slow and careful exposure in a supportive way. You may need the assistance of professionals such as occupational therapists, therapists, learning support teachers, etc. Some situational triggers may need careful behavior modification training. Again, professionals may be able to assist you in identifying the best methods and techniques to achieve success.
In our experience, medication had little to no impact on reducing the frequency or intensity of our son's meltdowns. Matter of fact, two medications that his neurology team tried actually increased his tendency for meltdowns. We have had the greatest success with traditional behavior modification techniques. I personally put a lot more faith in the power of prevention than in medication. We have taught our son relaxation and calming techniques. Through preventative conversations, we have problem solved how he should calm himself when he feels himself losing control. Our son is a runner. When he becomes agitated, he tends to run in circles or run and hide while repetitively muttering the same couple phrases over and over. At one point, his desire to flee an undesirable situation would cause him to run out the door and run outside. Our fear was that he would run out onto the road or hurt himself in his desire to flee. We needed to problem solve as a family a better alternative to running. Over a period of time and many, many conversations, we have increased the likelihood that our son will go crawl in my bed or go to his room until he feels calmer. Going to his room is less successful than going to my bed because he tends to mutter to himself and work himself up when he flees to his room. I think he associates my bed with crawling in bed with us early on a Saturday morning and cuddling. At least I think that's why it works better. Maybe it's a smell. The feel of the bed. The colors in the room. Who knows.
This transition from melting down and/or running away didn't happen over night. It's not a hundred percent fool proof yet but it's a step in the right direction. This journey for self-regulation has been a work in progress. As he has grown, the need for him to self regulate has increased. Our son has always been big for his age. As he continues to grow, it is evident that he will be a large man. He must learn to regulate his emotions in order to avoid hurting himself or others. This is part of the conversation that we as a family have frequently had with him.
Read everything that you can find from reliable resources. Websites ending in .edu are associated with a school and .gov are associated with the government. These websites are most likely to be vetted and reliable. Nationally recognized and respected organizations such as Autism Speaks may be a good source of information. Consult with school and medical resources. Join a parent support group. Finally, if you are struggling with meltdowns, know that you are not alone.
http://www.childcarequarterly.com/pdf/winter12_eci.pdf
http://www.autismspeaks.org/docs/100_day_kit_for_school_age_children_final_small.pdf
*Your child may not have autism but this resource shares some great information and other valuable resources.
I have a master's degree in education. I am certified to teach N-3/K-6, English K-12, social studies K-12, and I'm "Highly Qualified" in the state of Pennsylvania to teach science K-12 in an alternative setting. In spite of all those fancy credentials, I do NOT consider myself an expert with all the answers. Instead, I would first and foremost consider myself a mother with a teaching background that has gained a lot of experience and knowledge along the way. If my experience and knowledge can help another parent, then I'll feel like I've accomplished something positive. This parenting thing isn't easy. Parenting a child with special needs makes a complicated job even harder. If you're a parent looking for answers and not sure where to turn, you're not in this alone. There are lots of us on the same journey. Maybe we can teach each other something along the way. I know my child has been my greatest teacher.
The number one question I am asked by readers of this blog is "How do you manage a meltdown? What can I do to prevent a meltdown?" I've attempted to answer this question on numerous occasions but it's never a simple answer. There are no right answers when it comes to managing these behaviors. With that said, here's some of my "experience" and "knowledge" on that particular topic.
First, it is helpful if you can identify if the child is losing control because of a behavioral issue or because of an inability to control his/her response to stimulation or a particular situation. For example, there is a clear difference between a child that has thrown herself on the ground and is throwing a screaming temper tantrum in the middle of the store because she was told she can't have candy and a child who has lost control because the lighting, volume, or other sensory stimulation in the store is more than she can tolerate at that moment. In both cases, the behavior needs to be addressed and managed but identifying the source of the behavior may help you better manage the situation.
If your child is prone to meltdown behavior or tantrum behavior, I strongly recommend starting a notebook. Write down the date, time, and location of the meltdown. Who was present? What was the environment like? What was happening prior to the meltdown? Is your child more likely to lose control at home, at school, or in public places? Is your child more likely to lose control with you, with certain family members, with school staff, or with strangers? Is it it more likely to occur in noisy locations? Bright lights? Busy locations? Write down as many environmental factors as you can recall. What did your child have to eat and drink that day? What medications had your child taken? Really take the time to document as much data as you can recall. Hopefully by doing so, a trend will start to emerge that will help you identify a trigger that is setting off the meltdowns.
Okay. In terms of practical, in the moment tools that can be utilized to help manage out of control behaviors, it definitely depends on the level of out of control that we are talking about. Some kids who meltdown, hit themselves or others. Bite themselves or others. Run away or run and hide. Scream and cry. My son's eyes glaze over and lose focus. He loses awareness that we are even there with him. He appears to be lost in his own world. It's hard to witness. It can be hard to manage.
Remain calm. Yeah, right. Easier said than done, huh? But really. Remain calm. Talk a deep breath. Or two. Or three. Remember that this is not about you. It's not personal. This is about your child's inability to manage himself. If you can't remain calm, you can't help him.
Talk very little. If your child is truly melting down, he isn't even processing what you are saying. Talking tends to escalate the situation and keeps you from remaining calm. If you talk, use a calm voice. Short phrases. "Shh. It's okay." "Shh. Let's just breath." Make your voice soothing. Model the breathing.
Touch only to maintain safety or to soothe. If your child will allow you to hold him and rock him, then by all means use that tool to soothe. For some children, the combination of rocking and soothing whispers helps to calm and soothe. If physical touch further escalates your child, then only touch to keep him from hurting himself or others. Touch can be useful as a tool to reconnect once the child is calmer but for some children, touch at that moment feels like a violation, an attempt to control. If your child is prone to frequent meltdowns and physical violence during those meltdowns, I strongly recommend seeking out a course in Safe Crisis Management. These classes teach de-escalation skills and safe ways to help manage your child's physical aggressiveness. Never pin your child to the floor with your body weight. Never tie your child up or attempt to use physical restraints in any way. The child could be injured and the emotional trauma could increase the likelihood of future meltdowns.
As your child loses steam and starts to calm down, help her to continue to calm herself. This is NOT the time to give consequences or discuss what started the episode. Instead, help the child to bring herself back under control. This may be a good time to sit beside her and talk calmly and quietly. "That's right. We're calming down. Take some nice slow breathes." If she finds it soothing, rubbing her back or giving a loose hug may reassure her that she is still loved in spite of her loss of control. Focus on slow breathing. Focus on calming down completely. Some children will fall asleep afterward. Allow her to rest. There is plenty of time to follow up after she is in a better state of mind.
I'll get into prevention in a minute but first, follow up after a meltdown is vital. When a child loses control, it is important to follow up to discuss what happened, to reconnect as family members, and to problem solve how to repair the situation. These conversations should be calm and loving. Keep the facts short and to the point. Try not to use accusatory words and tone of voice. When your home and life are disrupted by these episodes it's not easy to keep it impersonal but it needs to be. The focus should remain on helping the child identify what went wrong and how to fix it. "Before we talk, I need you to know that I love you and I'm always going to love you. When we went to the store today, we needed to leave early because you became overwhelmed by the situation. Let's talk about what we can do differently next time." Take the time to listen to what your child has to say. Offer suggestions or ideas. See how they react. If your child is younger or lower functioning, this step may need to be kept very simple. "I love you. I'm sorry we had a hard time at the store today. It hurts to see you that upset. How does it make you feel when that happens? I wonder what we can do differently next time to make it easier for you to go to the store and help me." The follow up conversation is critically important to re-establish the bond that may feel bruised after an explosive episode.
In terms of preventing meltdowns, that brings us back to our earlier conversation about identifying triggers. If you can identify what triggers your child's meltdowns, it gives you something to work with. The intensity of some triggers such as smell or noise aversions may be reduced by slow and careful exposure in a supportive way. You may need the assistance of professionals such as occupational therapists, therapists, learning support teachers, etc. Some situational triggers may need careful behavior modification training. Again, professionals may be able to assist you in identifying the best methods and techniques to achieve success.
In our experience, medication had little to no impact on reducing the frequency or intensity of our son's meltdowns. Matter of fact, two medications that his neurology team tried actually increased his tendency for meltdowns. We have had the greatest success with traditional behavior modification techniques. I personally put a lot more faith in the power of prevention than in medication. We have taught our son relaxation and calming techniques. Through preventative conversations, we have problem solved how he should calm himself when he feels himself losing control. Our son is a runner. When he becomes agitated, he tends to run in circles or run and hide while repetitively muttering the same couple phrases over and over. At one point, his desire to flee an undesirable situation would cause him to run out the door and run outside. Our fear was that he would run out onto the road or hurt himself in his desire to flee. We needed to problem solve as a family a better alternative to running. Over a period of time and many, many conversations, we have increased the likelihood that our son will go crawl in my bed or go to his room until he feels calmer. Going to his room is less successful than going to my bed because he tends to mutter to himself and work himself up when he flees to his room. I think he associates my bed with crawling in bed with us early on a Saturday morning and cuddling. At least I think that's why it works better. Maybe it's a smell. The feel of the bed. The colors in the room. Who knows.
This transition from melting down and/or running away didn't happen over night. It's not a hundred percent fool proof yet but it's a step in the right direction. This journey for self-regulation has been a work in progress. As he has grown, the need for him to self regulate has increased. Our son has always been big for his age. As he continues to grow, it is evident that he will be a large man. He must learn to regulate his emotions in order to avoid hurting himself or others. This is part of the conversation that we as a family have frequently had with him.
Read everything that you can find from reliable resources. Websites ending in .edu are associated with a school and .gov are associated with the government. These websites are most likely to be vetted and reliable. Nationally recognized and respected organizations such as Autism Speaks may be a good source of information. Consult with school and medical resources. Join a parent support group. Finally, if you are struggling with meltdowns, know that you are not alone.
http://www.childcarequarterly.com/pdf/winter12_eci.pdf
http://www.autismspeaks.org/docs/100_day_kit_for_school_age_children_final_small.pdf
*Your child may not have autism but this resource shares some great information and other valuable resources.
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