I had to use the clickbait title. The post was begging for it.
Anyway, I’ve been pretty open about the difficulties we’ve been having with Finley over the past month or so, which haven’t so much subsided as become an expected part of life. While at times I’m on the verge of jumping off the Serenity Now ledge into the pit of insanity, especially considering that I’m in the deepest throes of Busy Season, I’ve come to handle the destruction in our house with a little more aplomb than before.
Me. Also, Amy’s coworkers at Target would not get this gif.
Okay, so “aplomb” is going too far. I’ll narrow the scope by saying I’m more likely than not to sigh and shake my head when he pours out another tube of toothpaste or dumps another bookshelf’s worth of books on the floor.
I mean that “more likely than not” in the strictly legal definition, by the way. 51% of the time. The other 49% of the time, anything goes.
One of the hardest times for us is Church. We’re LDS, which means that each Sunday we have three hours to endure and silently pray that Finley doesn’t do anything that requires us to borrow against our 401(k) or take out a home equity line of credit. While it’s thankfully not three hours of sitting still (at least not for the kids), there’s still a reasonable expectation that the children neither burn the church down nor scream at the top of their lungs while raking their somehow sharp nails despite being cut five seconds ago over whoever’s nearest. Even in our ward, which has a high percentage of special need children and plenty of understanding adults, it’s still frustrating, and sometimes even a bit embarrassing, to literally drag Finley out of the cultural hall because he’s had a violent meltdown over a picture he couldn’t quite draw right or a level on the iPad he can’t quite finish.
There is, I’ve found, one way to temper the violent outburst. It’s certainly no miracle cure, but it does help.
Ready for it?
It’s walking the two miles from our house to the church!
Turns out when you make Finley trot through the nearly hour long hike behind houses and through calm neighborhood streets, it wears him down enough that his most destructive desires are diminished. And if he starts acting up again during church, well, there’s always a walk back to make the afternoon at home a little smoother.
Note: this is not a picture of Finley and me walking alone to church, but I liked it so I put it here. Deal with it.
I went on this walk two weeks in a row with decent results. Then, on week three (last Sunday), I had to skip our little walkabout because Amy was sick and I didn’t want to hear Kella’s constant refrain to pick her up, which she will repeat again and again like a gif (link is for my friends Ryan and Sarah) if a walk goes over a mile. There was a stark difference in his behavior at church this last week, to the point that in that third hour I wasn’t quite sure why I was there.
As an added bonus, I enjoy these long one on one sessions with him. He has a nearly limitless reserve of energy, plus is endlessly fascinated by minute features along the way that he points out in rapid fire. Not only that, but I can talk to him about his lessons in Church and why we go, in a calm setting where I have no concern about what scene he’ll make.
This IS him on our walk, showing off his great idea of putting snow in a water bottle (though he later complained that it “tasted funny.” I’m 99% sure we got it from a clean spot, but there’s always that 1%.)
I know he’s a smart little boy, and I know he absorbs a lot of what’s going on around him. The struggle has always been–at home, at school, at church–to get him calmed down enough to actually listen. With our walks, I’ve at least discovered one small way to make things a little better. I’d say it’s even enough to help me not freak 52% of the time when he causes serious property damage.
Well, almost.