If you’ve read my columns before, you know my child doesn’t sit still.
Whether you call it an undiagnosed attention deficit something or other, hyperactivity at DEFCON level, ants in the pants or – as some like to tell us – normal behavior for a 6-year-old boy, the point is, Mikey can test the patience of a saint.
We started to become a yelling household, in which I’m sure the people three houses down got sick of hearing my husband and I yell Mikey’s name repeatedly, telling him to stop jumping on the couch, stop messing with the blinds, stop jumping on the couch, stop throwing the tennis ball at the wall because it’s leaving marks, and to STOP JUMPING ON THE COUCH!
But my husband and I have learned that yelling does nothing. The child can hear us. It’s not an auditory issue. It’s also not a defiance thing (at least some of the time). If we sit back and watch his behavior sometimes, we can tell that he simply cannot help himself.
If we go to a diner and he is seated by the window, he will fidget with the blinds, the little cups of creamer, the salt and pepper shakers… We can whisper-yell at him through gritted teeth all we want, but he will keep reaching for those items because whatever is happening in his brain will have his little hands grabbing for them again and again.
Instead, we’ve learned to simply remove the temptation.
At the restaurant, we change our seats and move him so he’s not near the end where the window is or where the little jelly squares are.
At home, we move anything and everything out of reach that is not the task at hand.
If we’re reading a book, nothing else is around for him to fidget with.
If we are playing outside, I will sometimes close the garage to keep him from wanting to go back in to get a different ball or toy, when we’re already playing one game.
If he’s getting dressed in his room, one of us has to monitor and keep redirecting him because there are just too many ways for him to get distracted.
And then, there are times where we just let his nervous energy fly.
For example, we recently had to go to a memorial service that was held during a Catholic Mass, which was followed by a stop at the cemetery and dinner at a restaurant. At said restaurant, Mikey and his cousins were all playing with their waters, blowing bubbles with their straws and otherwise making a mess.
Mikey’s cousins were getting scolded by their parents.
Mikey was not getting scolded by his parents. You know why? Warning, it’s an unpopular opinion …
Who cares if the kid plays with his water?! The 6-year-old wiggle worm was just expected to remain quiet and still for almost two hours, and now you expect him to sit through dinner. I call that poor planning by the adults.
Let the kid suck water up through the straw, use his dirty little finger to close it off, and then tip his head back and slowly release the water down his throat while he coughs and sputters and water flies everywhere. I honestly don’t give a flying fart about it!
My husband and I always plan our outings with our restless child in mind. We almost never leave home without our “bag of tricks,” which includes paper and crayons for him to color, a couple of action figures and card games keep him occupied whether in the car, in the church pew or at the restaurant table.
We have the Rubik’s Cube that will sometimes keep his hands busy, or a “wacky tack” snake-like toy – which is just a long bendy thing, among the items we pull out during that dreaded idle time.
Of course, we also use the tablet and/or phone.
Last weekend we were at our favorite breakfast diner, just the three of us, playing a game of Uno while waiting for our chocolate chip pancakes. As we left, we walked by a table where a woman who was probably my mother’s age flagged us down and told us how sweet she thought it was that we were playing a card game with our son, and told us we were good parents.
As much as we needed to hear that and as nice as it was for her to say so, I had to hold back a chuckle because the truth is, she caught us having a good morning. And don’t get me wrong, we have plenty of good days with Mikey because he’s a good kid.
But we also have plenty of trying times with him – which many people witness.
Next time you’re out and you see a family with a child or children who look absolutely feral, try and give them a little bit of slack.
Life’s tough for a kid who can’t sit still.
Holly Crocco is editor of the Putnam County Times/Press and mother of a 6-year-old. She can be reached at editorial@putnampresstimes.com.
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