More like a roar, actually.  A bellowing lion in a very small space.

No words, just mirroring back (and magnifying) all that boy-lioncub yelling in the wee-little, closed-in bathroom.  (We call it the (time-out)  “Loud Room”, the “Angry Room”.)

And then I heard a mom’s voice saying, “John, sometimes you make Mommy so sad I want to cry and cry and cry all day.”

So then, we decided to try again.  Start over.   Do better next time.

It is called natural consequences, a part of interventions (from the Latin “interventiō”), a “systematic process of assessment and planning employed to re-mediate or prevent a social, educational, or developmental problem: early intervention for at-risk toddlers.” (Wikipedia)

You see, no other tool was working.  None of the redirects were working.  None of my “best laid plans of mice and men”.

When nothing else works, it’s sometimes “an eye for an eye”—to better understand the future social consequences of a loud, lousy decision.

He understood.   He made better choices.

It probably won’t last all day.   But each time, the understanding of the consequence lasts longer.

No other choice, it seems, than reciprocity every once in a while. (“that is what it feels like”.)

Randomly, reflecting the learning of B.F. Skinner’s chickens pecking at the corn.

“Tough Love” interventions build the respect John needs to function within society.

No time to lose.  He gets older and bigger by the day.

Peace be with us,

Gayle

(P.S.  Clip art available to anyone via PowerPoint.  Thank you.  Simba, roar on !)

“Please mute me.  I am drowning . . . .”

We therapy moms who dream of sentences get in a certain method of talking…..saying things to reinforce learning, first in one way, then another.  You could easily call it “too many words”.

(Two adults have chided me for this over-informing, so I try to be better self-aware.)

For 2 weeks, I added another 8-year-old boy (my step-grandson who is like a same-age cousin to my boy), a very verbal little charmer.   (So, I have one 8-year-old who talks like a 2-year-old, and the other an 8-year-old teenager with attitude.)

There came a hour when I was overwhelmed with the 2 boys yakking in opposite directions.   It took me a few minutes to realize I didn’t have to respond to “everything”.

I went non-verbal myself for a while.

I sort-of directed traffic with hand motions, facial expressions, and body language.

It was utterly bliss.  I stopped trying to keep up.

Not a long-term child-raising strategy.  But an oasis of calm when I needed it.

You deserve the time of peace to think.

Gayle

Love movies, unless we hate them.

My 8-year-old son John has never made it through a movie at the theater.    The theater is always too loud, too scary, too everything-too-much.

But then Inside Out showed up:  Emotions with cute little voices, faces, behaviors and a story to tell.   Gotta try, right?

So, Cousin/Nephew Adam got recruited to help.   Here are some photos of the elaborate plan to get John through the closing credits.

We rehearsed at home, got to the theater early, and used every trick Mom could think of. Including playing in the dark before anyone else got there and using headphones for sensory boundaries.

Try this.

We made it.  John has a new experience, a new neural pathway network to keep deepening.  Something to do next time with friends.

It probably wouldn’t have worked without a buddy.  This is the magic of peer-modeling.   When kids help kids.  There is nothing better.