It’s the end of week 4 of pretty much faultless behaviour. *finds penny, picks it up *bites foot off next door’s rabbit.
My elusive absence from the Blogosphere is down to the fact that things have actually been going incredibly well. I KNOOOOOW. Crazy!! So I have been sitting here. Not breathing. Not moving. Not eating. (Have been drinking).
It’s like I’m existing in some kind of space-time continuum. Dare I say: It’s like I’m living a NORMAL life. One where birds twitter around my head, and the smell of freshly baking bread emanates from the oven. That IS normal, right? That’s what y’all have been doing while I have been drowning in the rolling waves of insanity, right?
Yup! It’s the end of week 4 of NO tantrums, NO shouting, NO explicitly aggressive behaviour. Quite frankly, it’s weird. Weird in a good way. But weird all the same.
Feeling slightly awkward with my new NORMAL life, the odd movements I have been making have involved the clenching of shoulders and furrowing of brow. In pure anticipation of the sharp shards of the eggshells puncturing my feet. But nope! Nada! Zilch! My feet are still pretty and scar-free.
Even my own natural captious demeanour hasn’t evoked so much as a grouchy retort or a spade-sized foot-in-the-face.
A couple of weekends ago, we made a snap decision to go and see the foster carers. It was a fantastic day. I no longer felt that I was an interloper, looking in on my own son’s life. All his attachments to them as parental figures seem to have dissolved. As much as he was pleased to see them, he was equally happy to leave and come home. It signified a huge breakthrough.
However, the following day at school did result in Pickle’s fist meeting a small child’s face. Several times. A minor glitch. *lifts rugs, sweeps glitch under.
Pickle seems to have suddenly developed an ability to listen and understand. But more importantly, I’ve been able to reason with him, to talk about his frustrations and he, in turn, has been able to get on top of his anger before lobbing his usual verbal hand grenades.
This more composed behaviour has meant that I’ve been able to spend more time on his learning. From being ‘behind’ in his reading, he has made some great forward strides and, according to his recent school report, “is now meeting expectations”.
Above and beyond his academic development, the words that really puffed my chest out were: “Pickle is a lovely little boy, who is always happy and smiling. He is very kind and has shown a caring aspect to his personality when he has helped other children who have hurt themselves or lost a toy”.
Minor as that may seem, that’s progress!