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Showing posts from May, 2016

Managing emotions - mine, this time

I have been inspired to write this post (when I really should be doing other things) by an impending Twitter chat this evening on 'Controlling your emotions'. Here's the blog post providing the background, from Special Needs Teaching Ideas. Personally, I prefer 'managing' when it comes to emotions, as controlling - to me - implies restricting; if I am having to control myself, I feel like I am on the edge of *not* being in control, and I don't like to be that way when dealing with children, particularly traumatised ones. However, if I am managing my emotions, I am proactively taking steps to ensure I protect myself emotionally when dealing with difficult situations. [Edit - I think this post has now changed it's title from controlling to managing..!]

Anyway... I am spectacularly bad at anything that requires me to be sat at my computer at a specific time of the evening, so, given that I am more than likely to miss this Twitter chat, I thought I would get so…

I can sing a rainbow

Little Man and I had a beautiful moment yesterday, on the way back from dropping his sister off at gym. It was a pretty grizzly day round here, wet and soggy most of the day, but by late afternoon the sun was starting to come out, and as we rounded a corner I saw the most enormous rainbow painted right across the sky.

I tried to point it out through the car window, but Tickle had no idea what I was talking about, and kept looking in the wrong direction. We were just about to turn again and lose sight of it, so I made a bit of a flash decision and pulled off the road in to a bus stop, and lifted Tickle out of the car so he could have a good look at it.

At first I wasn't even sure if he could see it - he has vision problems and can't see that well even with his glasses - but as I was pointing out the colours I could see, he suddenly said "Yellow!"

Standing by the side of the road, ignoring the person waiting at the bus stop, we sang the rainbow song. When we got to the…

Daddy is a biscuit

This morning, Tickle and I are standing at the end of the drive, waving Daddy off to work.

"Bye Dad!" he calls. "Bye Dad! Don't be afraid!"

My instinctive response was "Don't worry, Daddy's not afraid" but then I thought about it a bit. I crouched down next to Tickle.

"T, who's afraid?"

"You are."

"What am I afraid of?"

"Afraid of Daddy."

A-ha, I am thinking to myself. Look how clever I am, we're about to have a breakthrough here.

"Why am I afraid of Daddy?"

"Because Daddy is a biscuit! [sings] Da-ddy is a bis-cuit..." And off he dances.

I'm trying to find the word to describe how I feel about all these tiny titbits, like he's letting me inside his head for a second at a time. It's not exactly frustrated, because I feel really honoured that he trusts me enough to let me in at all, and I do know that it's going to take time. It's more like I'm on tenterh…

This is how my afternoon has been:

Tickle arrives home from school in the taxi as usual. I can tell he's not OK as soon as I open the door, and he's yelling at me even as he's crossing the threshold.

"What are we having for dinner?!" He asks, repeatedly, and urgently. This is his 'I really need security, please give it to me by letting me know you have planned to feed me' question. Trouble is, today I had planned to let him choose.

I say "What would you like for dinner?"

"NOOOOOO!!" he screams. "I want you to tell me!!"

This has been a pretty common scenario since the contact visit with Tickle's brother just over a month ago. In the immediate aftermarth T's behaviour deteriorated dramatically (one of the reasons my April blog is so sparse!) and he seemed to be really struggling to cope. He was hyper-vigilant almost all the time, and things that had soothed and calmed him in the past really weren't working. Thankfully, we are pretty much back on an …