I can not even tell you how many times over the past 8 years that I have felt defeated. Even more so in the past 5 or 6 years. There are a lot of things that I don’t talk much about. We all have those things that we filter because they are so dark or so emotional that we just can’t bring ourselves to even say them out loud. My hope is that by talking about some of these things, we can begin to see that we are not alone. We might even be able to have empathy for each other as we look at a situation through another persons lens.
For me, much of my sadness and heartache has been over my tough kid. There are plenty of other situations that I am sure you will read more about, but this one is an ongoing situation that I am not sure I will ever get a handle on. I will keep trying until the bitter end, but it is just one of those things where you hope for the best, run as much interference as you can, and plan for the worst, all the while feeling like a giant failure.
Kaiden is a complex kid. He always has been. We call him our little sour patch kid because when he is sweet, he is sweet but when he is sour, you better watch out!
I first noticed it when he was young. Something was just not right. I would ask his doctor if I should be concerned, I would get one of the following responses: “there is no need to worry” or “he will mature out of it” or “everything looks normal”. What I was seeing were signs of what I now know to be Sensory Processing Disorder. Unfortunately, not much was known about this at the time or at least the doctors hadn’t learned what to watch out for. It is actually more common that you would think. We generally associate it with people on the Autism Spectrum, which is true in most, but not all cases. However, there is a larger group of people who have this disorder who are not on the Autism Spectrum.
As a baby, Kaiden would cry when he got a bath. Water on his head would send him into a screaming panic that probably sounded more like I was beating him then cleaning him. He avoided water, if at all possible, even getting into a lake or a swimming pool was a dramatic endeavor. I was convinced that he must have drown in a previous lifetime because water was so traumatic for him. This particular behavior didn’t stop until he was 7 and a few months into swim lessons. He finally learned how to trust water.
Cutting Kaiden’s hair, trimming his nails, or brushing his teeth was a frustrating for me and painful for him experience. Sounds that are normal for you or me were excruciatingly loud to him. He would cover his ears or he would sit and cry because every little bit of his tiny body experienced an overwhelming amount of sensory input. He couldn’t process it all at the same time. Think about yourself driving a car, the radio on, kids are talking or fighting in the back, it is dark and you need to find a street that you just can’t find and you are late. The stress of it all overtakes you and you just want to yell STOP! This is how too much sensory input feels and Kaiden was feeling it all of the time. He has since learned how to cope with these experiences and has learned to ask to leave it he is feeling overwhelmed by the situation.
Then there were the days when I would take Kaiden to the park with the other kids. Most little’s like to swing, at least a little bit. Kaiden HATED it. It was so weird. I am over there pushing him, telling him over and over that he is having fun and to relax. He would scream in terror, much like I was getting ready to throw him off of a cliff. It makes sense to me now as I think about someone asking me to bungee jump off a bridge or a high tower and the fear is so intense, but they push me off anyway and tell me the whole time that I am having fun, yet I am clearly not having fun. It is ironic now, because swinging is one of the sensory activities that he loves the most and it is one that helps him get himself grounded and ready to participate in activities.
Kaiden didn’t talk much as a toddler and you couldn’t really even understand him until he started kindergarten. I would ask his doctor about it and I was told that Taylor was talking too much for him and so he didn’t need to learn how to communicate. I asked the speech pathologists and was told to wait it out, there was nothing they could do for him yet. It was frustrating because I knew he needed something, I just couldn’t figure out what and how to get it for him.
School for him has always been an issue. He was on a behavior plan in preschool at 3 years old. He would cry every single morning as if he would never see me again. He did this for almost the entire school year. I thought the separation anxiety would end. It didn’t. It was heart breaking. He made it two whole months before being sent to the principals office in Kindergarten and we have been going strong and steady, getting to know the support staff in each and every school. I had the good fortune of working in most of his schools and I trusted the staff would take care of my boy as we struggled through even the toughest of days together.
We would be at a grocery store and about half way through, he would throw himself down on the floor and scream and cry. I had to carry him out of more stores that I care to admit. I have dragged him kicking and screaming out of a few as I left my cart of groceries behind, apologizing to the checkers and other employees who were silently judging my brat kid and my crappy parenting. Then I would sit in my car and cry.
As he started getting older, the anger began to take over. He had a hard time expressing what he was feeling and so it all just started coming out as mean words and actions. He has been kicked out of many activities and other activities we tried were EXTREMELY painful for everyone involved. I finally have gotten to that point where I cringe anytime someone mentions that he try a sport or an extra curricular activity because, quite frankly, I am way to tired to try and explain him to one more person. I can’t take the pain of watching him fail when trying to make connections or participate in a group activity. It tears my heart out and I can’t do it anymore, so I choose not to.
All of these things that he was experiencing went unexplained for many years. I couldn’t understand what it was that I was doing wrong. I was telling him no to the things he wasn’t going to get. I was standing my ground. I was doing everything that I should be doing. It happened over and over, so why wasn’t the consistency working? He should be changing his behavior by now. I continued to be told that he would grow out of the behavior. I was told that he would mature and the behavior would stop. It definitely didn’t happen anytime soon and if I am being honest, it still happens sometimes, only this time he is yelling and throwing things if they are available. The difference is that now I know what to expect and I can plan for it or I choose to leave him home.
To any parent with a sensory kid or even just a tough kid, you are definitely not alone. I have been there. I have felt the embarrassment and shame. We walk this uphill path together.
To any parent or adult lucky enough not to have to experience these extreme types of behaviors, the next time you see a kid having a hard time or a parent who is so frustrated or embarrassed that they look like they are going to snap, remind yourself that you have no idea what is actually happening in the situation. You have no idea how you would actually respond in this situation if your child was doing the same thing. Check your face and make sure it isn’t starring in disgust, judging this parent because your kid would never dare act this way in public. Don’t say anything to try and make it better, because you can’t make it better. Do something kind if you are able. Walk away from the situation with a tiny bit of empathy for what these people are going through and continue to be grateful that it is not you and hopefully now you now a little more about what you didn’t know before.