The Wave

We are so very blessed – BB’s anxiety is only mild and the progress he has made in the last six months is amazing. At times I have almost forgotten about this fragility. Got comfortable with the new normal. I take for granted now that I don’t need to ‘prepare’ BB for a trip to the local shops. I take for granted now that he is ok when people come to our house to visit. Then something happens that just makes me go ‘oh yeah, that’s right’.

In my last post I said we were going to the shops for milkshakes, chips and chocolate. We did that. I posted a picture on my Facebook page of two empty milkshake glasses. The children were relaxed, happy, giggling and playing together. Often I get passers by looking at my children and smiling. I also get complimented frequently on how beautifully behaved and delightful they are. Thank you, I do work hard on that. Manners and behaviour are very important to me.

Here is what they didn’t see…

The excitement and joy of getting ready to leave the house. It was gorgeous. Putting on shoes, finding today’s treasure that absolutely must come for a ride in the car. The beautiful singing on our journey. My heart was happy and feeling light and calm.

I told the kids we would park in the carpark with the travelator. Yay! BB and FB just love escalators and travelators. We get to the carpark and go to the first level so we have one travelator to ride. This is our usual routine. It is busy and the only car bays are too far away for my little babes to walk at the end of our shopping trip. They will be tired and it will be difficult getting them back to the car on foot. So I go up the ramp to the next level.

Suddenly there is an explosion in the back seat. BB is not happy. This is not right. I was supposed to park back there, back with the travelator. I need to ‘turn around right now!’ he shouts at me through his tears. He starts screaming, at the top of his lungs, and heaving through his sobs. ‘Mummy stop the car, turn around, there were car parks back there. You are in the wrong place. Mummy listen to me, mummy listen to me, you have to go back. Turn the car around. NOOOOO’. More screaming. You get the idea.

I try to explain this means an extra travelator ride, but he won’t have it. He doesn’t believe me.

I park nice and close to the entrance and I open his door to get him out of his car seat. He is still screaming, and he starts kicking and flailing his arms around. He is shaking his head from side to side with a furious vigour and he clenches his fists. As I lean in to whisper reassuranceand try to engage him to work through his strategies, he starts trying to punch me in the face. He is pushing me. He is kicking me screaming as loud as he can. In his eyes, he has the look of a frightened wild animal caught in a trap.

A lady parked behind us and I saw her face. I generally don’t worry about what other people think about me and my parenting. Today was no exception but I do just remember this moment our eyes made contact and she gave me a look of pity. Don’t pity me. Pity my child who has to live in the body that is experiencing this. Pity his racing heart, the heat coming from his clammy skin, the feeling of his blood pulsing through his head. The effort that is required by him to try and calm down.

I got FB out of the car, and after trying a few different means of getting BB out, I ended up having to do the harsh ‘you are either coming with us or staying here. Ok you are staying, goodbye’. Close the door, start to walk off. I watch BB’s face crumple more with that look of being totally shattered and let down, and my heart aches. I want so badly to protect this child from the world. I walk back and open the door. I say ‘Get out now’in a firm voice. And he does. His little clammy hand clutches mine and he is physically close to me, almost hugging my leg, but that is ok. Suddenly his eyes focus on the travelator and all is forgotten. It is over.

We can start to enjoy our day.

What caused this? It is about control. At the moment BB is feeling he is losing control. His routine-based, familiar environment is changing. While he is excited about moving and having a swimming pool and bunk bed, he is unsure of what this is really all about. Do they really mean we don’t come back here for dinner at night? Too young to fully understand the abstract concept.

He cherishes that which is familiar right now. He is used to our routine of going to the shops. We either park here, there, or over there. So when I changed this, it was another piece falling away from the little safe world for which he is accustomed.

This is at times devastating, heart breaking and soul destroying. It makes me overprotective. It makes me more anxious. I lose sleep with worry. I sit on the edge of his bed while he sleeps and stroke his hair and whisper private words of love, devotion and support to him.

We have strategies to use. Sometimes they work, sometimes not, but he understands them and that is great. What I have learned is that the normal strategy is often an avoidance strategy. That is not the right way about things.

So the other day, I had people coming through our home by the sea, potential tenants. My first instinct was to remove BB and my mind went into overdrive of how to make this work. As I was about to contact my lovely neighbour to see if the children could go over there. I realised I was providing him the opportunity to avoid this situation. For whose benefit? So I didn’t press send on my message.

Instead, the night before the visit, SB and I sat on the lounge with the kids for a cuddle and talked about our big adventure and before we go we have a lot of work to do. One special job that we think the children would be awesome at is finding the right special family to come and take care of our special home here while we are away. So that when we come back here, our home will have been well looked after. BB acted dismissive, like he didn’t care as he played with a toy and then ran off to play elsewhere. SB gave his smirk. What is important to know here is that children need time to process information. I know that our talk looked like nothing, but that now BB would go and process this information, and make sense of it. This will help him build his code to help him get through. I know my son.

We talked about it again the next morning; we talked about it as we heard a knock at the door. Children often need to hear a message a few times to help them take it in. BB needed time to think through all of the strategies he has used to help him through difficult times, and decide what would work best here.

As people arrived, BB politely asked if he could go to his room, and I of course said yes. He feels safe in there. He can hide away. I joined him with FB and we talked about the swimming pool at our new home, and a few other things. Then a family came in and we chatted. BB saw how excited these strange boys were about his pirate ship in the backyard. Next thing I knew the children were off. Gone. Playing outside, playing inside. Playing together. Beautifully.

Once everyone had left I asked BB what he thought about that family. ‘Do you think they would be a good family to take care of our special home here while we are away?’ ‘Yes mummy, I do’.