hard afternoons

Yesterday was a hard afternoon.  It was as if my child became possessed.  Behaviors I have not seen for a long time surfaced.  It was one of those afternoons when I am not sure how we will make it and terrified at how we can "contain" it.  And yet the freaky things are off set by super amazing things which puts us on a tremendous roller coaster.

When you read that you may think about your worst moment with your "typical" child.  Or you may think I am an exaggerating mom with need for structure and rules. Or you may think you raised your own kids and how hard is it really.  Or you may not have kids and be thinking WOW.  It doesn't matter what you may be thinking, believe me when I say... IT was a HARD afternoon.  And it is not atypical for these types of things to happen but I have had them minimized for quite some time.

A blurry image of a frantic child.

It started as a pleasant walk home on a warm November day.  He found and pocketed an open and unfinished bag of Halloween candy.  The only way to get it from him was to manhandle him and probably chase him on the street so I chose to let him carry it home in his pocket.  Then I traded him a fresh bag for the opened one.  There is not a mom alive that would allow her child to eat something open and found.  But Espen would have defiantly just eaten it while racing away from me had I demanded that little bag.  A trade was wise ~ he received a fresh treat size bag of M&M's. And then all hell really broke loose.

Suddenly he was the greatest child flaring rapidly to the worst beast alive.  He was volatile and explosive.  Safety planning was suddenly out the door.  Screaming and thrashing at me and with a neighbor who was patiently trying to play with him.  It went so wonky that he dug up a worm and ate it in demonstration mode and then tore a fence picket right off the fence.  The brute strength and excitement over the sound and feel of that break lite up his face in a moment of extreme joy.  He was racing with out heed into the street and bouncing from topic to topic at warp speed, allowing no time for anyone to answer or think.  He climbed the tree to the outer most branch and balanced on one foot, swaying precariously in the wind about 40 feet off the ground.

In between those moments of wild he was incredibly talented with bike stunts, jokes and handstands. He was kind and brought the neighbors trash cans to her garage so they did not blow.  He was curious about the neighbors life and skater video.  He was gregarious and charming.  Until suddenly he wasn't.

I finally had to tell the neighbor it was time to go and literally tackle my screaming thrashing child to the ground and hold his little hand to get him inside.  Where he crashed into the couch throwing his shoes straight at me.  After a few moments in the quiet still house, he slowly became calmer and quieter.

He was starving.  He was tired.  He was mindlessly out of control.  And as I sat quietly after bedtime, exhausted I thought there was not much "thought" to him and the impulsiveness was strongly the leader of his mind.  And I thought about how thankful I am that he can maintain some reason of control all through his day because these behaviors are lessened at school.  They are lessened because I give him that tool that helps him succeed ~ the medication.  I thought about that small treat size bag of candy and the amazing colors he consumed and how quickly afterwards he deteriorated. (It is a small theory).  

How hard it must be for my child to be 100% mindful all day, learn, think, control, listen, absorb, remember... it must be terribly difficult.  Hard to maintain with peers bumping, talking, challenging, jostling all day long. Once the medication wears out and he is left to his own natural devices and he is allowed even that one treat bag of delicious colorful candy, the control slips quickly away.  The impulsive, dangerous, frantic mood swings occur leaving everyone in the path pummeled with fright, hysteria and exhaustion.  Typically the meds wear off and we have challenges but not of these magnitudes.

We made it.  We face a new day with new challenges.  We calm down.  We pray.  We pull out the books and talk about the things that can be better, different and helpful.  We choose just one thing we can not do on the new day... today he will not eat worms or bugs or things he finds on the ground.  It is that small thing that we have to work on ~ every single day.