Emotional regulation, flexibility, and the attribution of intent

On Monday of this week we had a mini-crisis. 

Singularity's class had been in another classroom for music instruction. Their backpacks were piled up outside the room. At the end of the day, when the kids left the room, Singularity's backpack was no longer there. It wasn't in the office. It wasn't in his classroom. It wasn't in the lost and found. I looked for it. Very hard. It just wasn't there. 

My neurotypical mind rapidly concluded that someone must have taken the wrong backpack by mistake and that it would most likely turn up the next day. This is not how Singularity's mind works. He concluded that someone had stolen the backpack intentionally. In addition, he felt that it had been done to him on purpose. He felt violated and furious. 

And so a 45-minute tantrum ensued. Sigh. Singularity's tantrums are rare, thank goodness. During the tantrum, he insisted -- at the top of his lungs -- that he was going to kill the person who had taken his backpack. Not only was he going to kill the person, but he was going to kill the entire family of the person who had taken it. And all of their pets. And all of their plants. And he was going to smash their house down and then burn it. 

I should hasten to say that Singularity is not actually violent. He was just expressing his anger the best way he could imagine. 

He is more of a Steven King than a Ted Kaczynski. 

So that evening I pulled out the "back-up backpack" and his old lunchbox and talked with him about how he would be using them the next day; how I fully expected that his normal backpack and lunchbox to reappear in the morning; and how I did not think that someone had stolen it on purpose. He became a little teary during this conversation, but he didn't go ballistic again. 

On Tuesday morning, he also became a bit teary when it was time to leave for school. He also ran back to the kitchen to  fetch a box of matches, but he was easily persuaded that matches aren't allowed at school. He was flexible about using the other backpack and lunch box, and he managed to contain his feelings and get to school on time. 

And when we got there, the backpack had miraculously reappeared! 

He was thrilled to see it, but he immediately concluded that it was his own fault that it had become misplaced. This raised a bit of a red flag for me, as I don't want him to blame himself for something that he didn't do. Something to keep an eye on. I hope that this doesn't become a trend. 

Through the entire episode, I could see him struggling to regulate his emotions, and he did a really good job. A mature job. This felt new.

He is so much more resilient than he used to be. Over a year ago, I had accidentally left his bicycle helmet on the playground. When I went back to look for it, it was no longer there, and it never reappeared. At the time, Singularity had a tantrum about how someone had stolen it from him and how he wanted to kill the thief, and he refused to ride on his scooter for several months before he would accept a new helmet and ride again. He got stuck on that idea.

I wish I could say why he handled this so much better this time around. Is it because of something we did in ABA? Is his ability to take the perspective of others developing? Is he just maturing? I am just glad to see this progress. 

So far on this blog I have written a lot about things that are going well for us right now. I assure you that it has not always been so. I am working on a series of posts about my family's "annus horribilis". It is taking me a while to work through it, as it was a very emotional time for all of us. I also want to be very respectful of the privacy of my family. I hope that you will keep reading. 

And now I will leave you with another Singularity-ism:

I chose this image, because it is an amusing use of a flexible object, in keeping with the flexibility theme of this post.