As soon as our son, Dean, mastered sitting up on his own, it wasn’t long before the rocking started. I’m not talking a gentle swaying like when you find yourself moving along absentmindedly to one of your favorite songs. No. This kid would full on throw himself back and forth with all the strength in his tiny little body. And he has a disturbing amount of strength for a child.

 

I would guess that not many parents had to keep their foot hooked around the leg of the high chair so their child wouldn’t scoot it away mid meal. But, that was us. Give him a few minutes, and he would rock that chair clear across the room. He wasn’t doing it on purpose. He wasn’t trying to get into anything. He simply needed to rock.

 

When he first started doing it, we had no idea why. We were, admittedly, confused. No one else we knew with small children had experienced anything like this. But, as it generally didn’t cause any issues, we just shrugged our shoulders and let him continue on doing his thing. It wasn’t until a little later on down the road that the idea of this being a sensory need was brought to our attention. Suddenly, the behavior made sense. Along with a host of other peculiar behaviors we’d noticed, like his constant need to chew.

 

Dean is forever looking for something, anything, to chew on. Of course, as a kid, he is not always discerning in what it is he chooses to put in his mouth. It’s been a struggle over the years to find acceptable solutions to this need. It was easy when he was a baby. He loved using his gummy little mouth to nom on his pacifier. But, as he got older, and teeth entered the picture, this was no longer an option. We lost many good pacifiers to the powerful chomp of newly emerged baby teeth.

 

But Jess, you might say, don’t they make chewables specifically for this purpose? Why yes, dear reader, they certainly do. However, no matter how many different types we have presented to our stubborn little one—and there have been many—he hasn’t taken to a single one.

 

Not. A. One.

 

He loves chewing gum, but still hasn’t quite grasped that you’re not supposed to swallow it or leave it lying around on random furniture. So, we try to keep the gum to a minimum for now.

 

Dean has also been known to chew on his shirt, plastic food from his sister’s play kitchen, pens, books…pretty much anything he can get his hands on. The only thing we’ve found so far that seems to meet his needs are those large silicone smoothie straws. It works for the moment, but we’re forever on the look-out for something more durable for him to try.

 

He has many other sensory seeking behaviors, that I’m sure we’ll talk about eventually, but for now, I think you get the point.

 

Then there’s our daughter Maddie. Not really a rocker like her brother, Maddie can frequently be found either spinning in circles or running laps around our kitchen island. Once in a while, Dean will even join her on his hippity hop.

 

When she’s not busy with that, she is usually throwing herself around—onto a crash pad, onto the floor, onto the couch, into other people. This specific brand of sensory seeking behavior is sure to give me a heart attack one of these days, but in the meantime, I’m trying to just be content with the fact that it means she’s getting exercise.

 

One thing our two kiddos have in common? Screeching. They both love to screech at a volume and decibel not recommended for human ears. I understand on a logical level that this sound is filling a need for them. On a base level, my insides want to burst out of my skin just to escape the sound.

 

For us neurospicy folk, it’s common for there to be sensory seekers and those who are a little more sensory avoidant. And they will, inevitably, share a home. Why? Because the universe has an odd sense of humor, I suppose.

 

In fact, my husband and I were recently joking about the fact that the both of us are largely sensory avoidant, yet we somehow managed to create two sensory seeking children. And, you have to laugh, because otherwise it’s easy to drown in the chaos of having a group of people with conflicting needs sharing a confined space.

 

Close your eyes and imagine this—I’m sure some of you won’t have to try too hard, but stay with me:

 

You’re at home. The television is on, mid-level volume playing some kids show you’ve seen a thousand or more times. Both kids are on their tablets, watching videos or playing games at a volume best described as ‘dear God why’. But, not only are they playing on their tablets, one or both of them are also playing another game that makes noise—because obviously. You don’t know how the kids are hearing any of these games anyway, because they are both screeching unintelligibly.

 

Then, in the background, the dog starts barking because one of the neighbors had the nerve to walk their own dog, and this is, clearly, unacceptable. And, because you’re trying to make dinner while all of this is going on, the fan above the stove is running as well. Then, in the midst of all the chaos, at least one child begins demanding some sort of snack food.

 

I’m willing to bet that anyone would be overwhelmed in this situation—no matter how frequent an occurrence. But, for someone with sensory issues, particularly those relating to noise, this is a scenario specifically designed to wreak havoc on our nervous system and send us spiraling into fight or flight mode. And I’m fairly certain it is frowned upon to fight a child.

 

So, for me anyway, as the anxiety mounts, the need to flee becomes overwhelming. Which, depending on what you’re doing, is not always an option. You’re stuck. Anxious, and panicked, and overstimulated.

 

As parents, what do we do in that situation? We learn to cope in whatever way we can. Whether you choose to use noise cancelling headphones, grounding techniques, breathing exercises, or locking yourself in the bathroom for a minute or two—we find some way to control our own responses and carry on. Not just because we have to, but because it’s important to teach our kids healthy ways to manage and express these Big Feelings.

 

Feelings are a part of life, and they’re not easy, even for adults. As much as I try to control my reactions both for myself and for my kids, the truth is that even as an adult, I still have meltdowns and shutdowns from time to time. When I am extremely overstimulated, it is not always easy to manage my body’s response. Just because you may have the tools you need and know how to use them; doesn’t mean you’ll be able to implement them in the heat of the moment.

 

But we try, right? Learning to identify and manage our own emotions is the first step to helping our kids identify and manage theirs. We have to lead by example. That’s why I keep trying.

 

If I can’t remember any of those grounding techniques my therapist gave me in the moment, why don’t I keep a list on me to reference when things are too much? If I do end up having a meltdown, why don’t I take a minute to remind my kids that it’s okay to have feelings and we just need to work on the best way to express them? After all, the world is a minefield of triggers for those of us with sensory needs. Getting overwhelmed is not a matter of if but when. So, we have to prepare for this eventuality.

 

Living with people with different sensory needs is just part of living in a neurodivergent household. Just like all families, no matter their neurotype, we have to learn to deal with different preferences and behaviors, and have to contend with sometimes wildly different personalities. It’s not an easy thing to be sure. But, we do it because we love each other. We want each other to be happy and feel safe and loved within our home.

 

So, if we end up riding the Sensory Struggle Bus every day, it’s all just a part of what makes us, well…us.  

Previous
Previous

We Can’t Do It All

Next
Next

Fixations: The Good, the Bad, and the Strange