My own theory of relativity

Originally published at hawkdad73.autisable.com/758843527/my-own-theory-of-relativity/

For awhile, my son has been having issues at school. Kicking, hitting, etc. mostly out of humor, sometimes out of aggression. He’ll call people names that he has seen or heard in the latest soon-to-be-banned comic or cartoon. He’ll at times bring behavior home with him and depending on what is going on at home and who is there, it could escalate. Sometimes When upset, I have been told to breathe. “When you feel yourself getting upset, just breathe.” I’ll even tell my son that he needs to “calm, count, and breathe.” I usually receive the same frustrated grumble I give people when they tell me to do the same thing (he and I also forget that it actually works). But, I actually thought about it today. What is that asking us to do? I mean, aside from the obvious….

Slow down. It’s all relative.

I could dwell on the fact that I do not spend enough time with him, or that I shouldn’t feel bad because I have two other kids, but the one thing I will focus on is that I too often catch myself doing to my 9-year-old autistic son what I rail against other people for doing to their kids…I ignore him. Maybe I set the bar too high; I always respond to him when he asks me a question and wants to talk…so I guess ignore is the wrong word. I see myself always at my computer and saying, “Just a second,” or “I will after this sentence.” I fear I am not giving enough of those “five minutes” to him. Or maybe I am greedy…I don’t feel as though I am getting enough.
Instead of waiting until aggression and anger set in, I took the time this morning with my son to just sit and listen…actually listen to the bits of information that can so easily go in and out of the ears, behind glazed-over eyes (which, I am sure, he notices). Instead of bickering at him about what he is repeating from his reading in his comic book, I look at it and laugh with him, or I ask him what else might cause earthquakes. The five minutes may only be five minutes (today, it was longer, I am sure), but relative to how his day might be going or what he might be fretting about, it could most likely have been best the best “five minutes” of the day.
Time always goes slower when you forget about it or the things that remind you of it, and lose yourself in their world.
Their’s can be a wonderful…wonderful world.