Of late my son has displayed a reckless rambunctiousness I find difficult to keep up with. Without being ill or overloaded, bursts of vigor embrace and overload him. Clenched fists and swinging limbs hurtle with a velocity our modest gross motor room cannot contain.
He needs a vast tundra to sprint across, with mammoths to chase, spear, and roast.
What happened to my sweet little boy? Who replaced him with this slamming, punching machine of a child that could chew through wood and iron bars?
I asked our respite worker, a veteran preschool and kindergarten teacher, for her insight. She told us young children have hormonal surges as they develop. A little boy’s testosterone level can double at these times.
Our pediatrician further informed us that growth spurts can cause a thirst for rugged activity. Boys on the spectrum often require a behavior management program of sheer physical exhaustion to maintain balance.
My son is ravenous and sleep-filled, bristling with the ferocity of his Viking ancestors.
Did Mother Nature slyly wait until February Vacation Week to unleash a hormonal juggernaut? Did she also know my husband would be absent during a snowstorm fraught with power outages? Sigh.
What to do?
I took a page from Liev’s case manager. We discussed feelings and brought out the emotion stamps. Ostensibly, the process will help him build self-awareness. The two of us pounded pages with red and blue faces.
I debate the merits of examining feelings over ink and paper, but the process soothes us both. A worthy goal is met.
Tomorrow we visit the tundra.