Compassion and Gratitude

"WE DON'T HIT! REGGIE, STOP IT NOW."

Me. Yelling. At someone else's kid. In front of them. At a Cub Scout meeting!

What is the world coming to?

Well, this little fellow needed a wake-up call of some kind. He simply wouldn't respond to regular instructions to stop hitting while playing with NJ.

These two have known each other for years. They've wrestled for years.

It's the nature of their relationship. And that's totally cool.

I think "guy stuff" is required for any kid to develop semi-normally. And frankly, wrestling often breaks down into fisticuffs when you're a little boy and you don't know boundaries.

But normally, that kind of ends by three or four.

Reggie is seven going on eight. And even though NJ was actually getting the better of him in terms of wrestling... Reggie continued punching and kicking at NJ as my son pushed him back and laughed at his outrageousness.

Well, eventually he moved onto to his mother, a friend of NJ's mom and a very sweet lady.

I could hardly bare to watch, and in fact would later intervene.

But not before I took NJ and Reggie outside to run off some steam.

Sure enough, they get 30 feet away and commence the wrestling. And sure enough, Reggie starts punching again. When I saw him swing and hit NJ in the face, I pretty much went into my Exorcist voice and physically pulled Reggie to one side.

"I told you to stop. Don't you EVER touch anybody in my family. EVER. If I ever hear about you hitting NJ again, if I ever see it again... (My mind rifled through the legal calamity that might befall me were I to lay out my next line, so I toned it down)... Something bad will happen to you."

And I left it at that. And I separated the boys.

And STILL the kid kept trying to go around me to reengage in the shenanigans.

I was gobsmacked, to quote Gordon Ramsey.

Clearly, the child has no sense of proper behavior... to the point that he will simply defy a rather large, and totally pissed off, daddy who is threatening him in an obtuse but fairly assured way.

This was not the first time it has happened.

Later, I talked to him mom, telling her I had to separate them physically. Telling her I had to raise my voice at him. And listening to her explain what's been going on...

"This year, his teacher says he's not talking to anybody in class. They say he knows the math. He's like three grades ahead. But he doesn't do it. He doesn't like the assignments." Etc.

I noticed during speaking with other adults that the Den Leader continually pointed to her nose to try to get him to pay attention. His eyes almost never met hers.

Hmm. Do we have another Aspie on our hands here?

Suddenly, my rage at this little guy had morphed into compassion. There was, and is, a definite "issue" as they say in the medical parlance.

Until now, his mother and father have been adamantly anti-drug... anti-therapy... anti-... well, anti-anything, if it involved admitting that Reggie's lifelong behavior strangeness might be something with a diagnosis.

But the first signs of a correction for Reggie's issues arose during our conversation.

"He's going to go into Mrs. Roberts group this year."

The lady in question is one of the most amazing, effective and compassionate people NJ has had the chance to work with. She runs the social group he goes to a couple times a week at school. He loves her, and she seems to genuinely enjoy his company too.

This is a great sign. They're opening up to the possibility that Reggie's problem could have serious consequences - socially and developmentally - if not addressed asap.

I pray that Reggie gets some help right now. No waiting. Puberty is just around the corner, and when you get there, you're lost. It's over. Interventions don't take when all you can think about is hiding the evidence of masturbation.

I have definitely seen Reggie on good days. Sometimes, he behaves admirably. But apparently this is getting worse, not better.

We were able to give her sound advice on who to talk to for a good eval. We listened, we totally related. We went and found Reggie and gave him some big hugs, which he actually seemed to enjoy.

In the end, I simply said to myself: "Thank God NJ's mine." I felt very gracious. I almost always do when it comes to that lad, but I can see that there are people who are earlier on in the struggle than NJ now...

I can see that every single kid has his foibles. None of them are perfect - well, they all are, but you know what I mean.

And most importantly, we had a chance to reach out and, hopefully, help just a little.