Despite this sweet smile, James had a few unhappy bumps by the end of the school/therapy break. On Easter, he became increasingly agitated and eventually deteriorated in full upset-mode with major tears - all over his one year-old cousin. Of course, in my eyes, it is my fault. I never thought to prepare him for this inquisitive little toddler. I mistakenly thought James was used to the little guy, but unfortunately, James was used to a baby who was held, ate, or slept. Not a tyke who waddled around, poking into places and people - including him! To make matters worse, it was happening on HIS turf, Grandma and Grandpop's house. Thankfully, there were periods of calm, eating on the deck and ball playing outside (until he almost ran into the busy street). After the adorable "interloper" left, James actually looked at me, patted his chest, and said "Bay-Bee." Oh no you're not - you are a big BIG boy! Seven years old! Life returned to normal and we went home with a happy camper who greatly enjoyed the Chuck Berry CD his other uncle made for him (the uncle with the "acceptable" 6-foot tall cousins)! An unexpected new development is James' love for Chuck Berry. It started with "Route 66" on Walt Disney's "Cars" soundtrack. and now he's chooses this compilation. Just wild to see his preferences in action.
The following day saw a minor freak-out in a familiar, boardwalk pizza parlor. Something was bothering him and he wanted to go. As tantrums are not usual and protests are short-lived, I was shocked how quickly his agitation escalated. By the time dad got back with a slice, James could not communicate. In fact, he was terrorized. We left, and he calmed in the car.
Later that day, an attempt at two-wheel bike riding (with training wheels) turned into yet another melt-down. Again, I did not expect such a major reaction as James is a professional at the tricycle. I understand that three things at one - balancing, pedaling, AND steering - are very difficult for him. By the end of the session, James was a mess. Like most if the things we do with James, we just kept trying. Perhaps, considering the two, very recent incidents, we should have aborted the try until the next week. But we didn't and I fear it will be even more work to get this kid - who has an incredible memory - back on that bike!
I assumed everything would fall in place when we got back to our routines, especially considering this week's gorgeous weather. I was pleased to see that James wanted to resume our daily neighborhood strolls. The first day, he inspected all the new flowers and blossoming trees. Yesterday, after an amazing speech session, we went on our "constitutional." James got a treat at the corner deli - a Hawaiian Punch. It was late and he was a bit giggly and silly, even spilling most of the drink. At one point, he started putting his hand down the back of his pants. "No James, hands out." Okay, he listened. Then he started giggling and did it again. "James, I said no hands in the pants." Smack! He hit me. And he laughed. And the hand went back. "James, No." He looked directly in my eyes. Smack. That was it. "Give me the drink, no treat." Took both his hands in mine and took the short way home. First, I just held one hand but he kept hitting, so any freedom was curtailed. We went home - and he did without much of a fuss. I was so upset. This was deliberate. It was intentional. We do not hit. And he didn't get it? Or he didn't care? Where was my sweetheart who was kissing the hand of his speech therapist only hours before? When we got home, we went potty (no he did not go, no luck there) and I went in the kitchen to unpack his school bags. He pointed to the top of the refrigerator and said "olli-pah." "What? You want a lollipop?" Head nod, "Yeah. pop." Normally words get rewarded instantly. Today was different. "James, did you hit me?" Another head nod. "No James. Boys who hit do not get lollipops." And, thank God, James burst into tears. I know he got it, finally, because he did not ask again.
