Yesterday was one of the worst day ever. My son Ben woke up in a good-ish mood, but by the time daddy left for work, he had already switched to angry toddler.
The one hour between daddy leaving and the school drop-off was one of the hardest of my life. Every silly little thing would set him off. Any request was met with open refusal and a simple invitation like “it’s time to put your shoes on” would set off a wide range of destructive behaviours.
These behaviours always follow a very specific order. Most of the times, I’m able to stop them before they escalate, but not yesterday. A little slip in my therapeutic parenting effort, and things turned nasty.
Screaming
This is often Ben’s first reactions to my instructions. Sometimes, he doesn’t even listen to what I’m trying to say, he just screams louder and louder in an attempt to muffle my voice. It doesn’t even matter to him which words he screams, he just wants to shut me out and keep me away.
Pushing
This is how Ben tries to provoke me, and initiate a fight. He mostly pushes me from the back, so that he has enough time to move a few steps back by the time I turn around. Then, he looks at me with daring and taunting eyes, just waiting for me to react.
Kicking
By this point, the volcanic emotions swirling inside him are about to erupt. Like a pressure cooker, he needs to let go of some steam. Kicks are quick, and Ben can keep a safe distance from me, and maintain the illusion of physical separation. Of course, I could extend an arm and stop him, but taking away his sense of safety could be more damaging than helpful.
Throwing
When there is no longer hope for negotiation, next comes Time-In: we sit in the same room, but not too close to each other, waiting for Ben to calm down and for his mind to clear. Ben struggles to let go of his anger, and the only way he knows to get to me and to get a reaction out of me is throwing any object in his reach. The more I remain calm, the more frustrated he gets, and the more objects he throws.
Self-harming
After screaming, pushing, kicking, and throwing, Ben still cannot calm himself down. He is still refusing any physical interaction with me, and he’s now completely lost in his anger. I can spot a streak of panic in his eyes, and I know what is about to come next. He punches his head, quick and hard, over and over, without being able to stop unless helped. I park away the panic, and I stop him gently.
Last jab
And finally, I know the meltdown is getting closer to an end, and the anger is becoming sorrow. Ben still needs to try to hurt me with a last punch before he can give in to me. Seeing me hurt is what brings him back, what calms him down.
Cuddles
Now Ben is ready for cuddles, hugs, cry, and to start working on understanding what has happened. He’s ready to let me close, let me touch him, listen to me and mend our relationship.
The madness of these moments is unnerving. It’s emotionally draining, it’s mentally exhausting and physically demanding.
Yesterday, after I dropped off Ben at school, I went to Tesco, and in the vegetable aisle, I almost started crying. I feel lost, demoralised and hopeless. I cannot comfort my son when he needs it the most, and I’m frightened I won’t find a way to help him navigate through his emotions.
I have nothing helpful to add, we are trying to find the answers ourselves but I can recognise so much of this in our middle AD. Somehow I’ve become used to it and can separate myself emotionally (most of the time). As she’s become more secure with me she’s been able to come to me for comfort quicker, let’s hope there is something we can find to help the poor broken little children. If I ever find something that works I will let you know!
Hi Anne,
It’s hard to witness these meltdowns and it’s heartbreaking not being able to do more to help. Thanks for offering to let me know if you find a way, I will do the same if I get there first. Thanks for your words. Wishing well to both of our families. XX
Sorry to read you had a tough day. Keep the faith and the knowledge that what you are doing in the long run is for him, even if it doesn’t feel like that when you have one of those days x
Hi Matt, thanks for the encouraging words. We are having much better days now, and hopefully, we will have a magical Christmas. Thanks for stopping by. XX
I identify so strongly with this too. Ours were taking it in turns yesterday. Hope you manage to have a peaceful Christmas (these things are relative!) and some time to recover. x
Hi Hannah, I keep my hopes up, and a good spirit, and I’m sure everything will be OK in the end. I hope things calm down for you as well. Thanks for sharing, and happy Christmas. XX
Hope things are calmer. Look after yourself.
Thanks, some days are better than other. Today we are dealing with high fever, and it’s refreshingly easy! 😇 XX
Must have been something in the air. I had the exact same situation. Although the aggression had no heat to it. Something is bothering them but unable to express what. Feel so helpless
Hi Worried Mum, our children struggle to understand their emotions, and to express them. It must be so overwhelming for them. But things can improve in time. Our job is to give them the tools to navigate safely through the big and scary waves of their feelings. Thanks for stopping by. XX