This evening, as my son entered the house from school, I instantly sensed something was off. No words were needed; a mother’s intuition, honed over years of experience, told me he was struggling. He had managed to maintain his composure for nearly seven hours at school, but once he stepped through the door, the pressure overwhelmed him.
At home, he felt secure and familiar, and the emotional dam broke. His face was tense, cheeks flushed, and his body language was rigid. He was in a state of agitation, craving a snack yet rejecting everything in the cupboard. His frustration escalated into anger, and he lost control of his body. He wanted to greet our dogs, but their excitement was too much to handle, leading him to be rough with them, which only resulted in more self-directed anger.
When I asked about his feelings, it was as if a dense fog enveloped him, obscuring his ability to process my words. The lively chatter of his siblings added to the chaos, making them sound like a raucous crowd. His outburst was inevitable, and soon the calm of our home transformed into turmoil.
Following the meltdown, both my son and I experienced profound exhaustion. He couldn’t reflect on the incident; it was too overwhelming, and he needed to recharge. This cycle is challenging for all involved, but I can hardly fathom the intensity of his experiences.
As his mother, I understand that there were likely subtle signs of distress throughout his school day. These signs are often overlooked, as he generally complies with expectations. However, I know that as the day wore on, his complexion likely paled, energy dwindling hour by hour. He might have faced difficulty eating lunch due to anxiety, perhaps giggling nervously when approached by teachers, or even resting his head on the table during lessons. As the day progressed, he may have engaged in nervous habits like finger-picking or sleeve-chewing.
Children on the autism spectrum, like my son, often express their stress through non-verbal cues. Their struggles can go unnoticed in a school setting where they appear compliant, even while stress hormones build up inside. This can create tension within families, particularly if educators dismiss parental concerns.
To visualize this, imagine a shaken soda bottle. For a child with autism, sensory processing challenges, ADHD, and communication delays, each school day can feel like a series of shakes. A new lesson topic may cause confusion, buzzing classroom lights could be distracting or painful, and unexpected schedule changes add to the pressure. By the time they return home, the built-up stress is ready to erupt.
Over the years, I have often felt isolated and bewildered when teachers have remarked, “We don’t see that behavior here,” or suggested I might be too lenient. Sleepless nights were spent questioning my parenting. Yet, my instinct as his mother has always been correct—I recognize the underlying struggles he faces. He feels free to express himself at home, where he knows he is accepted and understood.
It’s clear that proactive measures can be taken to alleviate the stress my son experiences. Creating an environment that embraces his unique needs rather than attempting to force him into a conventional mold is essential.
For those navigating similar challenges, additional resources can be beneficial. Check out our other blog post on home insemination kits for insights on family planning. For expert guidance on this topic, visit Oxford Fertility, a trusted authority. Additionally, MedlinePlus provides a wealth of information on pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, understanding the reasons behind my son’s emotional outbursts at home versus school has been a journey. Recognizing the pressure he endures throughout the school day helps me support him better when he returns home, allowing us both to find relief and recharge.