Last evening, my son returned from school, and I could sense it instantly. There was no need for him to articulate anything; my instincts told me he was struggling. This phenomenon, often referred to as the delayed response, became apparent as he crossed the threshold of our home after a long day of holding it together for almost seven hours. Once he entered our safe and familiar environment, the pressure he had been containing erupted.
His body tensed, and I noticed his cheeks reddening. He appeared stiff and awkward, his speech rapid and loud, clearly agitated. He oscillated between feeling hungry and not wanting anything to eat, leading to frustration when the available snacks didn’t meet his desires. His excitement to greet our pets turned to roughness, as their exuberance overwhelmed him, leaving him irritated with himself.
When I inquired about his feelings, it was as if he was enveloped in a red fog, unable to process my words. As his sisters entered the room, chattering and laughing, the noise became too much, prompting him to shout for silence. Their typical sibling retorts only escalated the situation, and soon we were facing a full-blown meltdown.
The aftermath was exhausting for both of us. My son couldn’t reflect on what had just happened; he simply needed to recharge, as did I. It’s a challenging experience, and I often struggle to understand how he feels.
As his mother, I recognize that there would have been subtle indicators throughout his school day, signs that could easily go unnoticed. He likely appeared compliant, leading teachers to overlook his discomfort. However, I know that as the day progressed, his complexion would have paled, the energy gradually draining from him.
During lunch, he may have found it difficult to eat due to anxiety, perhaps laughing nervously when approached by teachers. He might have slumped over at his desk or rocked in his chair to self-soothe. As the clock ticked toward dismissal, I can imagine him fidgeting more, picking at his fingers or chewing on his sleeves. His body language often betrays his internal struggles, as he sometimes lacks the words to express his needs.
This scenario is not uncommon for children on the autism spectrum. Many can mask their emotions throughout the school day, leaving teachers unaware of the mounting stress. The build-up of anxiety can lead to significant challenges for families, especially when educators do not fully grasp or believe the parents’ observations.
Consider this analogy: envision yourself as a shaken bottle of soda, filled with the complexities of autism, sensory processing challenges, ADHD, and an underlying speech delay. The world is perplexing, and your difficulties often remain hidden from view, leaving few people able to comprehend your perspective.
Your day unfolds as follows:
- School presents numerous anxieties—shake the bottle!
- The teacher introduces a new topic—shake it again!
- Confusion arises over instructions—more shaking!
- Mistakes happen—shake, shake, shake!
- The classroom lights buzz, becoming bothersome—shake it even more!
- During assembly, you must remain still while feeling restless—shake it again!
- A change in the schedule adds to your worries—shake again!
- A long car ride with the wrong music creates additional stress—another shake!
Finally, upon arriving home, the pressure becomes too much, and the lid pops off. This delayed effect is very real. I have often felt bewildered and isolated when teachers have expressed surprise at my son’s behavior, asserting, “We don’t see any of that at school,” or suggesting, “He behaves for me, so perhaps you’re too lenient.”
Countless sleepless nights have left me wondering if I was the issue. Was my parenting to blame? Yet, as his mom, my intuition has consistently proven right. I understand now that my child is most comfortable at home, where he can truly be himself, free from judgment.
This realization has led me to identify various strategies to alleviate the build-up of stress for children like my son, fostering an environment where they feel safe and accepted for who they are. It’s essential to embrace their individual needs rather than attempting to force them into rigid molds.
For further insights on this topic, consider visiting this blog post. Additionally, for authoritative information, check out Make a Mom’s resources on home insemination. You might also find valuable advice at Johns Hopkins Medicine.
In summary, understanding the dynamics of my son’s behavior at home versus school has illuminated the importance of recognizing and accommodating his unique needs. This awareness can lead to effective strategies for reducing stress and fostering a supportive environment for children on the autism spectrum.