other side of Ponderosa

As a newer Dad, I prided myself on my young children's behavior.  In general, when Dylan and Zachary were toddlers, we could take them just about anywhere, anytime, usually with compliments about how well they behaved themselves.  Add Lily to the picture... similar results.  I admit that when I would see others with unruly children, in my smugness, I would think negatively of them and their parenting skills.  Hey, I got this!

Enter Benjamin.

Benny is a horse of a different color.  Please understand that I am not intending to insult Benjamin.  I'm just being real.  He makes us feel like first-time parents, all over again.  In fact, Benny often makes me feel like the other parents at which I used to sneer.

Benny is considered developmentally delayed.  We're not sure, at this point, just what that means.  Simply, what we do know is that in just about every developmental skill area, Benny lags well behind his age peers.  His language and vocabulary are limited for his age, and his walking (which is usually more like running at full-tilt) is awkward, if not dangerous to his safety.  He also currently has some sensory "issues" whereby he craves certain sensory stimulation (he needs more cuddles, hugs, holding, tickling, wrestling, etc.) and he is over-sensitive to certain noises and other sensory stimuli in ways that would not effect many others.  Benny has some behavioral issues, is prone to tantrums, and in general, sometimes does not appear to listen to a thing we say!  That translates to Benny needing nearly constant supervision during his waking hours... which can be exhausting!

I think some assume possibly he just "works" us because we are tired and worn down by parenting four children, or that we are much more lenient on him, because he is the "baby" of the family... the stereotype of the spoiled youngest child who gets away with anything.  Possible.  But, I don't think so... at least not totally.  I attribute a lot of his behavioral issues to his delay in communication and, I believe, understanding.  It is so hard to know for sure, and, while we need to curb the behavioral issues, I am reluctant to discipline him for something I am unsure he understands.   It is a fine line.  The problem is, we just don't understand Benny... with his delays and limited vocabulary/conversation, we have a hard time knowing what he does and does not understand.

Since this past fall, when he was barely two years-old, Benny has attended preschool, two days per week, operated by our County Board of Developmental Disabilities, and he has attended speech, physical, and occupational therapy sessions one day per week.  We are pursuing some further evaluations, but the current thinking and goal is that he will "catch up" with his peers and be mainstreamed by school-age.  In the meantime, though, life with Benny can have its stressful moments.

Our visit to Ponderosa (last week) for Dylan's birthday was one such occasion.  In hindsight, Benny was pretty sick with a virus and a high fever for about a week, beginning the day after our Ponderosa outing, so this could have contributed to his behavior.  Regardless, in the lobby of the restaurant was a 4-H display, which included a glass case with toy tractors.  Now, Benny currently loves tractors, and he got very excited when he spotted them.  "Tractor, tractor, tractor!  Wannit!"  He began squirming to get free and run over to the tractors.  I tried to explain to him that they were only to look at, but he didn't skip a beat... "Tractor, tractor, tractor!  Wannit!"

I figured when we moved into the restaurant, he would quickly get distracted and forget about the "tractor, tractor, tractor".  No such luck.  Instead, he pitched a bigger fit, because he was removed further from his tractor goal.  We tried to distract him with a few of his cars.  No luck.  We were starting to get some looks.

If he were Dylan or Zachary, at the same age, I would have sat them down and given them a few stern words, maybe threatened some form of discipline, and that would have probably been the end of it.  But that requires a little logic, understanding, and thought processing skills that I truly believe (don't know for sure) that Benny does not yet have.

So, in the effort of not making too big of a scene, Jen suggested I try taking him into the restroom (on the other side of the restaurant) and try to calm him.  I created a minor stir as I carried my "appearing-to-be-a-brat-but-things-aren't-always-what-they-seem" toddler through the restaurant to the restroom.

Remember those sensory issues we talked about? 

Electric hand dryers.  Benny hates 'em.  The noise freaks him out.  The mere sight of them (because they might turn on) freaks him out.  His body trembles and he goes into a form of a panic attack.  We forgot.  Guess what was the first thing the already-upset little guy spied when we walked into the restroom?  Electric hand dryers!  Well, for the moment, we solved the "tractor, tractor, tractor" issue... now we are in full freak-out mode, "no, no, no!" (crying, kicking, screaming) to get away from the horrible hand dryer.

Now, with his little nerves totally fried, I have no choice but to get him away from the hand dryers... which empties me (the "we-assume-you-just-beat-your-poor-child" dad) back out into the restaurant with my "appearing-to-be-a-brat-but-things-aren't-always-what-they-seem-now-in-full-freak-out-mode" toddler, for another trip across the restaurant.  Now, we're getting some looks!

Back at the table, Jen and I quickly decide we must use the divide and conquer strategy... I would take him outside, and restore the peace to the restaurant, while she scarfs down some food for birthday dinner, part I.  Then, we'll switch places while I scarf down some food for birthday dinner, part II. 

Fun.

Outside, the little guy continued to be upset.  I held him and walked around the parking lot for quite a while, and I could slowly begin to feel the tension drain from his body.  His tantrum-like crying turned to big shoulder-heaving sobs, as he came down off the emotional stress the incident caused him... well, actually, as WE came down off the emotional stress the incident caused US!

When he was relatively calm, he began asking for, "Momma, Momma, Momma".  Each time he asked for her, I responded, "no crying".  I couldn't be sure, but at some point I felt we had made a form of agreement together that we could go back in to see Momma if he didn't cry.  I figured we already annoyed the whole place, what harm could come from trying it again?

I called Jen's cell phone and told her to come and let us in the BACK door.  I had already paid for my meal, but to come through the front door would have brought us full-circle back to "tractor, tractor, tractor"!  NOT going there!

Back inside the restaurant, Benny was still a bit agitated and not too interested in food, but not making much of a scene.  Benny loves crackers.  So, in an effort to maintain some peace and salvage an enjoyable family outing, we raided the soup bar, and stuffed him full of saltines and ice cream!

What is the moral of this post?  I'm not sure. 

Maybe, it's just that I'm a blogger, and that's what bloggers do.  We write.  (Sometimes we'd rather write, than talk.)  Sometimes we post for fun.  Sometimes we post to vent.  Sometimes we post to raise awareness.  Sometimes we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and post as a form of catharsis.

In this case, I think it is the latter.  I think it's to say what I couldn't tell all the people who stared at us in the restaurant.  Something like, "This is my son, and I love him, but I don't always understand him, and I'm not sure, but I don't think he can help most of what is disturbing you."  Or, if I'm being honest, it might also be to say, "We try to be good responsible parents who raise well behaved children... and we have gone out other times without disturbing the peace... we're just having a bad evening."  Or, how about, "We're a family stressed and under various pressures, and we're occasionally going to risk disturbing you to get out and be together as a whole family, without leaving someone behind just because they may need a little extra effort". 

Maybe the personal takeaway is to be a little less smug the next time I see a struggling parent in a public place.  Hey, I got this!  Hey, I been there!