When Brady was a very young, around 2 to 3 years of age, I remember feeling not only very overwhelmed by him but also feeling embarrassed and at times resentful. It kills me to confess this, but his behaviors back then were very paralyzing to me and led me to feel woefully inadequate as his mom.
I didn’t like how he screamed so much. There was never a slow buildup with Brady’s emotions. He was either bouncing off the walls like a manic guy who just received news he’d won McDonald’s french fries for life, or he was screeching at the top of his lungs in such a way that drew everyone’s stares. There was hardly an in-between with Brady. It seemed that everything affected him intensely.
This of course caused great stress upon everyone, especially me, his stay-at-home mom with three other very small kids who needed me to smile and be light-hearted. This was my job, my only real job, and many times I just wanted to escape from it all, mostly because parenting Brady was exhausting– mentally, emotionally, and physically. I used to play internal mental games to force myself to see the positives:
Some moms right this second are in the cancer ward of the hospital, praying that their child will make it and not have to suffer any longer. You have healthy children. You get to be with them in your own home, not in a hospital.
I knew I was blessed with healthy children and when Brady was sleeping, I would stare at his gorgeous boy face. I’d die for this child and yet, I didn’t know how to cope with the rough moments when they’d pop up daily like sudden explosions.
Gradually, I began to recognize that he was bothered by tight crowded places, bright humming lights, loud spaces, new places with new surroundings. He seemed anxious and made life such that we changed as a family. We could no longer leave the house without thinking about how it would affect Brady. Is this a place where Brady will be able to manage or will we all have a lousy time because he’ll be affected by the environment too much?
So seemingly unpredictable.
After some time, I began to realize that I wasn’t going to be able to completely prevent the meltdowns, and I was sick of letting them have such a tight hold on my own emotions and reactions. I could clearly see the trickle-down effect that my reactions to Brady where having on my other children and I became determined to cut the huge emotional rope around my anxious self and be a new kind of mother.
I changed quickly. Instead of letting Brady make me anxious when he threw a public fit, I stood calmly took deep breaths and addressed my other children by coaching them as to why Brady might be having a hard time. “Guys, I think your brother is crying because we’ve been in this aisle too long and he needs something to do. Let’s quickly figure out what we need from this aisle and go directly to the toy aisle. Can one of you help momma find Brady a fun light up toy he can finger while we shop a little longer?” By calmly explaining what may be upsetting to Brady, I was trying to get my other kids to understand that Brady wasn’t intentionally trying to sabotage our time together. By sometimes encouraging them to collaborate with their momma to find a solution, I was coaching them to think creatively and flexing their minds to grasp that there is always more than one obvious answer. Let’s try a few things, kids.
I started talking aloud every where we went. Why? Primarily, to build empathy and compassion in my own kids, and to help guide them in their own thought patterns. What does Brady need from us in this moment? To understand Brady took tremendous patience but the kids and I proved time and time again that we could help Brady.
Sometimes during a Brady meltdown I’d say to my kids: “He’s really angry right now and I don’t know why. Let’s ignore it for a moment and let his brain settle down. Reagan, do you know why the banana went to the doctor?” For distraction and for levity, I’d ask the child who seemed most affected by the present scene a joke while my hands would deeply caress Brady’s scalp. (I had learned that deep pressure techniques helped his body and mind calm down.)
Reagan: “Why mom?”
Me: “Because he wasn’t peeling so well.”
The art of distraction and the healing power of laughter proved to be magical in moments of major Brady blowups. Did we sometimes have to bail and head home because Brady wasn’t simmering down? Oh yes. I wasn’t embarrassed any longer though and not as stressed either. I embraced them as teachable moments for all my kids where I could model calmness amid a Brady storm, and I could help us all refocus. With audible verbal direction from me about the current difficult moment, my kids understood that we had tried to push through.
Brady’s brain was just different, but we could all flex our minds to find ways to soothe him. As it turns out, Brady adapted over time for several reasons and I’m sure that one primary reason was because of the love and support he has felt from every single member of his family.
Daddy is tickling everyone on the bench; Brady is the one in blue.
That you figured this out so early and were able to help Brady while teaching your other kids how to be important but also help you and help their brother is such a great lesson. Thank you for sharing!
It was a survival tactic, for sure! I couldn’t let myself get too upset by the current fiasco that was unfolding before my eyes. With 4 kids aged, so close in age (5, 4, 3, and 1), I had to mindfully respond to every situation in a patient, thoughtful way. I wasn’t perfect at it of course. We all have ‘those days’ where we are so depleted that we struggle to just be engaged with our kids.
I loved reading this article and learning about the coping strategies for your kids to follow.