His afternoon bus approaches…. I can see him through the window; he’s rocking backwards and forwards… he’s biting his left hand angrily… something is upsetting his balance.
I slide open the door of the mini bus and he’s looking at me, talking with his eyes. I undo his seat belt and he’s angry … I gently and quickly manipulate his 6’3″ frame, turning him around and telling him to go inside … the driver tells me that he’s been unsettled, very unsettled. I can see… I can feel.
Once inside he’s off to wash his hands …our daily routine, whilst I undo his bag reaching for that all important communication book. “He’s had a happy day busy with this and that and the other.”
I move to the bathroom helping him with the pump soap talking to him … ” I understand… you’re tired… you’re right … you need a rest, but no biting or hitting… I understand… you’re right”.
He’s moved off to sit on the couch, slapping his hand loudly on the worn out leather. He sits there daily, exactly in the same spot . He’s wanting my attention. ” Off to your room, that’s enough”. I know just what to do… I’ve been trained well. I put on his favourite CD and calmness is immediately restored; his body relaxing as his listens. After a few minutes he wants a different CD… I help and he’s happy coming towards me to give me a kiss… I’m hoping for a ‘thank you’ kiss …he receives ten.
I love that boy and I’m so happy that I know how to calm him down. I understand and sympathize with his situation… he’s locked in, but I still need to manage his anger and stop his biting stemming from frustration. His pain is mine… his joy is mine…
I often think that I should get a job… I’d like one…but there are never two days alike and I already have an amazing job.
Is it interesting? Yep.
Requires focus? Yep.
Patience ? Yep.
After hours? Always.
Am I making a difference? I hope so…I’m his mum.
(The author has requested her first name only be used)