When I get a phone call from school during school hours, I get a little knot in my stomach.
When I get that call from preschool at the end of the school day, the knot gets a little bigger.
So when the phone rang at 2:45pm last week and it was the preschool, I almost didn’t answer it. I really didn’t want to know.
But I did. Because I’m not that bad of a mom.
It was the lead teacher of the special education classroom. “Everything’s fine,” she said. (Because she probably heard the fear in my “Hello?”) “I just wanted to give you a heads up. Howie was really upset when he got on the van at the end of school. He had made a ship out of bristle blocks and it fell apart right before cleanup time. We tried to help him put it back together, but he was too upset.”
Damn you bristle blocks!
I have to interject here that bristle blocks have become my least favorite toy in the house. We got them originally when Howie’s fine motor skills needed some help and he would get incredibly frustrated building with regular blocks or even Lego Duplos. They were great. At first. Now that he can build, he wants his creations to be perfect and look perfect. And stay together. Not a strong point of the bristle block.
His teacher continued. “He was really mad. The maddest I’ve ever seen him. He was refusing to get on the van and just kept repeating how mad he was. He did eventually get on the van to come home, but he lost his ‘earning’ for the afternoon. If we had had more time we could have worked through it with him, but we were at the end of the day. It was too bad because he was having a terrific day up until that point. I just wanted to warn you. We’ve never seen him like this.”
Oh I have. For a while we struggled with emotions in our house. Howie would have screaming crying meltdowns but couldn’t tell us why. Now he can verbalize it. Sort of. Mostly it involves him stomping around the house for a very long time with his arms crossed, mouth clenched and tears in his eyes, accompanied by the “I’M SO MAD AT YOU!!!” screams.
I thanked her for the information as the van came down the street. I grabbed my boots and rushed out. Last time we had such an incident, I could see his face pressed up against the van window crying as it came down the road. I wanted to get out there as fast as I could.
This time, he was sitting still in his seat. His coat was lying across his lap. And his face said it all.
“I heard all about it,” I told the van driver. “I know what happened.”
“But he pulled it together. He’s even earning his special van treat!”, she said back, with a smile on her face.
I pulled Howie off the van with his arms still crossed. He refused to come in the house even though it was 10 degrees outside.
“I’M MAD!” he yelled.
“I know,” I said. “But please come inside. At least into the garage.”
He gave me that much. And after a few minutes, he found his way in.
“I’m mad because my ship broke.” His tears came back.
“I know, sweetie. Maybe tomorrow you can work on it again.” And I just left that there. I’ve learned. Any more discussion would just add fuel to the fire.
About an hour later, Gerry asked Howie how his day was. Out of the blue.
I held my breath.
“I was mad because my ship broke and I didn’t earn.”
Gerry looked at him for a minute. “Do you want me to help you make it again here?”
Still holding my breath. Waiting for the explosion.
“Ok.” Howie said. “I’m not mad anymore.”
I looked at the clock. It was 4:30pm. I made a mental note to mark this day down in history.
Gerry got the container of bristle blocks and dumped them out on the floor. And together all three boys made their own new ships.
I just sat back and watched.
Later that night, I sent his teachers this e-mail:
Just wanted to let you all know how things turned out this afternoon. He turned it around on the van (J. even let him earn his pop), and came in a little mad (but acted fine). But around 4:30pm, he said “I’m not mad anymore”. Gerry asked him why he was mad in the first place and Howie explained about the problem with the ship. Gerry asked him more about it and Howie said “maybe I could make it again here.” Gerry told him he’d help figure out what went wrong with the ship the first time. And while they couldn’t make the exact ship, Gerry, Lewis and Howie all made ships together to fly around. Success. Pictures attached to prove it.(well, until Howie bashed into Gerry’s belly with his ship, but it all can’t be good all the time 😉 )thank you for working this through with him. He just needed some time to process it all.
I’m still putting away the bristle blocks though. I don’t need that kind of stress.
“Together we’ll stand
Divided we’ll fall
Come on now people
Let’s get on the ball
And work together
Come on, come on
Let’s work together” – Let’s Work Together by Canned Heat
February 6, 2011 at 11:41 am
So glad you all worked this out together as a team. So important!! 🙂
February 6, 2011 at 3:24 pm
thank you 🙂
February 6, 2011 at 11:44 am
YAY!! Progress is awesome! I love how there is this fantastic team, from his teachers to his brothers, working together to help him.
We got rid of our bristle blocks about a year ago. Nightmare.
February 6, 2011 at 3:25 pm
progress is awesome. definitely the subtitle of this post.
I’m glad I’m not the only one with a dislike for bristle blocks. It’s up there with moon sand for me now.
February 6, 2011 at 12:16 pm
I love progress! It’s amazing how much they can improve and often we don’t see it until something like this happens. Yay!
February 6, 2011 at 3:26 pm
I know! My first sign that we were on to something good was that he was not screaming in the van coming down the street. that alone is progress.
February 6, 2011 at 12:29 pm
Mazal tov! That’s wonderful progress!!
February 6, 2011 at 3:26 pm
thank you!!
February 6, 2011 at 1:01 pm
So awesome! Go Howie! Go Howie! 🙂
February 6, 2011 at 3:27 pm
I’ll be chanting that next time we’re in the midst of something good 🙂
February 6, 2011 at 1:03 pm
Awesome progress! I share your dread of afternoon phone calls for the school, but it beats not being told when there is a problem, I suppose.
He is doing such a wonderful job of verbalizing and working through his emotions. Great job from all the team. Those photos are so cute. Love how the brothers are so willing to work together.
Also, really glad we don’t have bristle blocks!
February 6, 2011 at 3:27 pm
thank you. I’ve realized now that the only thing that makes me more nervous than a call at the end of school time is a call at 5am from school…saying it’s canceled.
February 6, 2011 at 1:15 pm
That’s wonderful! We have moments here and there that also make me think of where we were a year ago. Helps me keep the hard days in perspective.
And I’m right there with you on the bristle blocks! I was so excited when he got them as a gift, but his frustration at them falling apart is so bad I rarely bring them out any more.
February 6, 2011 at 3:28 pm
Who knew bristle blocks caused so much pain!! But you’re right. It’s the good days that are the reminder of how far we’ve come. Makes the bad days a little less hard to take.
February 6, 2011 at 1:18 pm
I hate bristle blocks. Luckily Jack hates them, too. Or any of those buildy things. None of them stay up! ((love)) that he worked through this.
February 6, 2011 at 3:29 pm
I’m with you. And Jack. I’m completely spatially challenged so anything that requires me to put something together is hard work.
February 6, 2011 at 3:29 pm
Baby steps. My 10 year old still can’t adequately explain why he is mad some times. Great progress.
February 6, 2011 at 3:31 pm
thank you. baby steps indeed. We need to celebrate them all, especially when things get hard.
February 6, 2011 at 4:16 pm
What a success for you and your family! And good for you for writing it down, so when it does fall apart another day, you have proof that it isn’t always bad 🙂
February 6, 2011 at 4:43 pm
[…] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Sheila Ring Reed, akbutler. akbutler said: Who knew I wasn't the only one who hates bristle blocks? http://t.co/mDJTBky #parenting #autism […]
February 6, 2011 at 5:07 pm
Fantastic progress! Go team Go!
February 6, 2011 at 5:12 pm
OK, Let me join in with the crowd and tell you how awesome this is. Progress is beautiful, and progress that has a significant impact on the quality of life in the house for your whole family? Awesome. And how much do I love that school and how well they communicate and how understanding of your little guy they are? You really hit the trifecta here. I’m smiles all around for you. Yay, Howie!
February 6, 2011 at 7:03 pm
That’s awesome. And I’ve always thought that siblings are the best teachers.
February 6, 2011 at 7:52 pm
That’s a huge victory for Howie! I’ve been through those meltdowns. Now that Eli can tell us what’s wrong it’s so much better. Here’s hoping things are looking up for you and Howie.
February 7, 2011 at 7:59 am
OMG this is AMAZING
what progress
I think all of you are getting better at coping
and he is developing the critical “bounce back” skill
loved the story
Also you must hear this all the time – your kids r gorgeous
February 7, 2011 at 9:10 am
Wow, how great is that!!
That is such awesome progress.
I know that feeling of phone call dread I really do.
Well done Howie!!
Michelle 🙂
February 9, 2011 at 11:39 am
This is so awesome! Smooth days are great, but days with real progress are absolutely priceless.
My son is 15, and I still get a knot in my stomach every time there’s a call from the school. It’s usually our teacher consultant, who is just about the most helpful individual I’ve ever encountered, and she always starts by saying “everything is fine”. Guess she can hear that in my voice, too. 🙂
February 11, 2011 at 3:04 pm
[…] find the hope and progress interspersed with the raw emotion. She’s right. I see it and write about it all the time here. I know how lucky we are in so many ways to have what we do, to live […]