It's cold today - a bit of a shock to the system after the heat we've had for such a long time over summer. I'm not complaining though, I much prefer the cold. It's also insanely quiet in my house. That's something that is a rarity and I cherish it when it does happen. JJ is off on a camp and Miss A went to visit family, so it's just the boys and I currently. Ironically it's my boys who are the most quiet when the other kids are away.
B man is a very solitary young man who loves being alone, but also love time with his Mum. Monkey Man is not normally quiet *at all* but with the girls away and no one to egg him on, the only noise coming from him is his near constant monologuing about everything he does... but today, so far he's quietly watching Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.
I can be a control freak at times, and have learned to get huge amounts of tasks done in a minimal amount of time. Being term break, my homeschool whiteboard is currently filled with a list of jobs waiting to be checked off. The first day of the holidays we used to get stuck in and do a heap of cleaning around the house - especially of the bedroom disaster zones, which meant from there on things could be taken a little easier. However, with the girls away, instead of plowing in and getting it all done, I've stepped back, let it go and yesterday did the bare minimum of what was needed. (cleaning the kitchen... oh boy was that needed!!) I'm using the quiet to relax, hang out with my boys playing games, curling up under a pile of warm blankets watching a movie or reading.
I'm sure several of my kids would prefer school holidays to be a time of going out and doing more, but I find for us, they're greatly needed as a chance to rest, re-coup, and regenerate before jumping head long into a new school term. It's a chance to sleep in instead of 5am starts, to stay in our Pjs should we choose and just take it easy... and that taking it easy does us a world of good. It allows us to start the new term ready to go instead of starting it worn out from being busy all holidays.
Bedtimes are let go of in the first week and we kinda just stay up and do whatever, but in the second week, for the most part I bring back regular bedtimes which means the kids are back on schedule for school.
Reality though is it's not always this blissfully quiet on the home front. School holidays can be difficult at times, especially with all the kids home. They get in each others personal space, become irritated by each others habits or actions. B-man gets the most irritable. He likes quiet and calm, and having everyone home does not promote quiet and calm!
The girls love to sing... loudly. Sometimes together, sometimes different music at the same time from separate rooms. Monkey Man is currently obsessed with 'In the Hall of the Mountain King' and will carry around the iPad with him playing it on repeat (we're into day 5 of that one) or giving a running commentary about whatever game he is playing or activity he is doing (while still playing ITHOTMK in the background). The three of them bounce from one room to the other interacting on various levels - frequently this includes getting on each others nerves and pushing buttons that make one or more of them explode into an indignant temper tantrum.
On those days, the quiet, calm and peace that I'm experiencing today, couldn't be further from my grasp if we tried!! I spend those day acting more like a referee than a Mum, selectively rotating kids through "solitary confinement" (aka individual down time in their bedroom to recoup before coming back out to the family) and I go to bed exhausted wondering how on earth I am going to survive the entire term break. Ultimately though, we do survive, we do make it through - and relatively unscathed, it's just hard to see that while in the middle of the crossfire.
So today, the cold is a blessing, the quiet is a gift, and I shall enjoy my time with CB and Monkey Man. I hope you also manage to find even a moment of quiet and calm in your day to regroup, gain some peace and reenergise.
Showing posts with label Tantrums. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tantrums. Show all posts
Wednesday, 3 April 2013
Wednesday, 20 March 2013
Double the Challenge, Double the Fun
CB was 16 months old when B-man came along. I was so excited to have another baby. Despite the struggles with CB, I still wanted the large family I had always dreamed of and I was excited to have a son.
In the hospital, the nurses would come by my room to check out what clothing he was wearing each day. I had known I was having a boy & so had made him a weeks worth of shorts with matching baseball caps. They were such adorable outfits & I loved having the opportunity to make boys clothes instead of only sewing girly stuff.
Unlike CB who took a huge 36hrs to be born, B-man was in quite the rush. 50 minutes of labour and he came into the world. However, just like CB, he was born with the cord wrapped firmly around his neck 3 times. He was blue, not crying, and I was so scared of what I could see, but in a short time, thanks to the fabulous midwife, he was free of the cord, he started breathing & began to turn pink. What a relief!
Little did I know at this time that I was headed for a whole new level of learning with B-man. He was an incredibly strong babe. By 10 months of age, he had kicked out the bars in his cot - snapping them clean in half. While he didn't cry around the clock as CB did, the massive tantrums that developed less than a year later, were beyond anything I'd ever seen. His first ear infection hit at 2 weeks of age and this became a reoccurring theme for him.
For the first 3 years of his life, he developed an ear infection every second week. The ear infections were so bad that he was diagnosed with conductive deafness at 10 months of age. The audiologist told me his hearing was such that if I were to stick both thumbs in my ears as firmly as I could, the amount of sound left was all he had. He could not distinguish one noise from another, it was all garble to him, and his frustration showed constantly. To make matters worse, the moments between infections brought a sudden, but temporary, clearing of his deafness which terrified B-man. He was unable to understand why things suddenly became so loud and it distressed him enormously.
B-man did not develop noises, babbling or speech as other children did. He lived in a world that swung between silence and hearing - spurning out of control, screaming tantrums. He did not know how to make his wishes known and, I had no clue when he could or couldn't hear me when I was speaking to him.
He would throw things, punching & kicking while screaming at the top of his lungs. As he grew, it became harder to calm him and I developed a method of sitting against the wall with my arms and legs wrapped around him firmly, but gently, in order to protect not only myself and his sister, but him from himself also. On Doctor's orders, I emptied his room of everything he owned except his bed. His bedroom became the "safe zone" for him when he was out of control. I would grapple with him while being kicked and punched to get him into the room and then would sit outside his bedroom door sobbing while he raged for 3-4 hours at a time.
I had no idea what was causing my child's behaviour. I couldn't understand why he was so difficult to help, to teach. I went from Doctor to Doctor seeking help, trying to learn what I could do to help my child. However time and time again I was simply told I was a bad parent and needed parenting classes.
I attended more classes than I can begin to count. I tried everything I was taught, yet nothing helped. It didn't take long for me to get to the point where I could virtually teach the classes myself, yet still Doctors refused to see there was anything wrong with my son and continued insisting I go to other classes.
Regardless of their refusal to believe me, I felt strongly something wasn't right with my son and I continued seeking answers. Little did I know just how long that road would be. Years of struggle lay ahead, years of going head to head with Doctors and other specialists, years of knowing something was not right, and yet I was unable to get anyone to see what I could see in him. I was determined though, to get him help and would not give up.
In the hospital, the nurses would come by my room to check out what clothing he was wearing each day. I had known I was having a boy & so had made him a weeks worth of shorts with matching baseball caps. They were such adorable outfits & I loved having the opportunity to make boys clothes instead of only sewing girly stuff.
Unlike CB who took a huge 36hrs to be born, B-man was in quite the rush. 50 minutes of labour and he came into the world. However, just like CB, he was born with the cord wrapped firmly around his neck 3 times. He was blue, not crying, and I was so scared of what I could see, but in a short time, thanks to the fabulous midwife, he was free of the cord, he started breathing & began to turn pink. What a relief!
Little did I know at this time that I was headed for a whole new level of learning with B-man. He was an incredibly strong babe. By 10 months of age, he had kicked out the bars in his cot - snapping them clean in half. While he didn't cry around the clock as CB did, the massive tantrums that developed less than a year later, were beyond anything I'd ever seen. His first ear infection hit at 2 weeks of age and this became a reoccurring theme for him.
For the first 3 years of his life, he developed an ear infection every second week. The ear infections were so bad that he was diagnosed with conductive deafness at 10 months of age. The audiologist told me his hearing was such that if I were to stick both thumbs in my ears as firmly as I could, the amount of sound left was all he had. He could not distinguish one noise from another, it was all garble to him, and his frustration showed constantly. To make matters worse, the moments between infections brought a sudden, but temporary, clearing of his deafness which terrified B-man. He was unable to understand why things suddenly became so loud and it distressed him enormously.
B-man did not develop noises, babbling or speech as other children did. He lived in a world that swung between silence and hearing - spurning out of control, screaming tantrums. He did not know how to make his wishes known and, I had no clue when he could or couldn't hear me when I was speaking to him.
He would throw things, punching & kicking while screaming at the top of his lungs. As he grew, it became harder to calm him and I developed a method of sitting against the wall with my arms and legs wrapped around him firmly, but gently, in order to protect not only myself and his sister, but him from himself also. On Doctor's orders, I emptied his room of everything he owned except his bed. His bedroom became the "safe zone" for him when he was out of control. I would grapple with him while being kicked and punched to get him into the room and then would sit outside his bedroom door sobbing while he raged for 3-4 hours at a time.
I had no idea what was causing my child's behaviour. I couldn't understand why he was so difficult to help, to teach. I went from Doctor to Doctor seeking help, trying to learn what I could do to help my child. However time and time again I was simply told I was a bad parent and needed parenting classes.
I attended more classes than I can begin to count. I tried everything I was taught, yet nothing helped. It didn't take long for me to get to the point where I could virtually teach the classes myself, yet still Doctors refused to see there was anything wrong with my son and continued insisting I go to other classes.
Regardless of their refusal to believe me, I felt strongly something wasn't right with my son and I continued seeking answers. Little did I know just how long that road would be. Years of struggle lay ahead, years of going head to head with Doctors and other specialists, years of knowing something was not right, and yet I was unable to get anyone to see what I could see in him. I was determined though, to get him help and would not give up.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)