Meltdown

This morning Parker had one of his meltdowns. They usually start when he gets hurt (stubbed toe, bonked head) or if his sisters are trying to take his stuff. But sometimes they start for no reason at all. I fully believe they are linked to lack of sleep (he's been getting up early lately), but I also believe he has a special gift for completely freaking out. I had a very hard day yesterday just being wiped out and not feeling good (Michael even stayed home to take care of the kids for me), Lety was here to clean the house, and we had to leave. So a meltdown was not what I wanted at that particular moment. Not that I ever want one, but I can usually handle them by staying relatively calm and/or ignoring him. But today, I got mad. After repeated requests and repeated warnings, I put him in his "green chair" and closed the door. He screamed like their was no tomorrow. He got out of his chair. I entered the room, picked him up and plopped him down in his chair again. More screaming. Veins bursting. Hands shaking. Tears flowing. I left the room to continue to get the girls ready to leave the house even though I had no idea how the hell I was going to make that happen. He got up out of his chair again. I went back to him and put him back. Glass breaking screams followed. "I'm all done. I need help! No more chair!" and all the regular lines came flowing out of him. I'd never seen it quite like that. The girls are finally ready. Lety asked if she can go in to talk to him. I said NO and kept packing up the stuff. She, like some of my family members, was stunned at my behavior as well as his. (Lety has issues with my parenting style and likes to remind me how bad I am at being a mother often.) But I know my kid. And I know any reasoning, redirecting or any other non punitive technique will not only not work, it will allow this behavior to continue throughout the day.

He gets out of his chair again. Now I really pissed off. I walk in the room. He screams at me that he is "all done." I point to the chair and say loudly, "GO SIT DOWN." He screams back "NO!" I repeat myself, "GO SIT DOWN NOW!!!!!" I saw our day slip away. I saw more tears to come. I saw unhappy babies. I saw it all flash before my eyes.

Then he does something remarkable. More remarkable than reading, or doing math, or sounding out words he sees on signs, or writing his sister's name. He stopped, took the biggest breath he could possibly muster, shook himself a bit, and then said in his best normal speaking voice, "I'm ready to go now." I crouched down, opened my arms wide, and he came running towards me. I burst into tears. It was the most unbeliveable thing that had ever happened between us. We stayed there hugging for at lesat 3 minutes, me balling and Parker sniffling, but not crying. Then I took his hand and we walked to the living room to leave on our outing. He was the perfect gentlemen the rest of the morning.

I still can't adequately describe the experience. It was quite a thing.