Friday, September 15, 2006


I knew before Bubba even stepped off the bus that we were all in trouble. He wasn't his energetic self, eager to get off the bus, bursting to say hello to his dog and his brother. He just looked "off." I asked him if everything was OK and all he could muster was "I don't wanna talk about it anymore mom."

The speech therapist was wrapping up with Moosie, and I waved my arms frantically at her as Bubba entered the room. It was the only distress signal I could think of at the time. Warning! He's about to blow. Don't ask any questions or place any demands!

Bubba played for a few minutes, and his ear started to grow red. Uh oh. The red ear is not a good sign. And then the fateful question came: "Mom, where are the cookies? You know, the cookies that were right here?"

Ugh. You mean the cookies me and your dad devoured like a bunch of pigs last night? Those cookies? "Honey, those cookies are all gone. Let's make some more!" My excited attempt to head off disaster as I ushered the therapist out the door did not sit well with Mr. Bubba.

First both ears got extremely purple and welty and then the grabbing started, and then the throwing, and then the I am so full of rage I just want to destroy stuff started happening.

The "safe/sensory" room we are making for Bubba isn't done yet, and our house has been ripped apart (literally) as we are patching and painting before the new carpet arrives, so I had no where to usher him.

After many things being hurled in his room, and restraining not working either, I took him outside. During the transition he hit the dog and kicked his brother. Once outside he began trying to pull trees out of the ground. I am not kidding. He would put both hands around some of the smaller trees and pull with all of his might. As he did this he would scream "Mom, it's not making me better! It's not working!"

My heart was breaking because this is the first time I've seen him in a rage like this where he was out of control and knew he was out of control and just wanted it to stop.

After about 15 minutes, he stopped, he brightened up, and said "I'm Ok now mommy." The storm had passed.

Folks this is a 6-year-old little boy. Can you imagine feeling this way at 6 years old?

Come to find out he's having trouble completing work at school, and my guess is he is being pushed to finish that work, which is pushing him over the edge. He is in "a cycle" so Bubba is on edge most days and probably will be for the next few weeks.

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