The beauty of behavioral intervention though, is that we can give him other ways of coping with those high-octane emotions. Hence, the calm chart.
So I’m watching as Wonder Woman directs him towards the wall, where his brand spanking new Calm Chart is hanging. It’s just a laminated board, with velcro on it, and corresponding cards illustrating things that he likes like stretching, squeezing a pillow, getting a head rub and taking a deep breath. He picks three cards and I watch as he begins to squeeze the living daylights out of his little monkey pillow.
This. Is. Brilliant.
I need a Calm Chart, I think.
Oh!
The endless possibilities!
I imagine the choices on my GIANT laminated board
Chocolate. Cheese. Full Body Massage. Pedicure. Double Nonfat Vanilla Latte. Seven Day, Six Night Trip to Bora Bora.
Squeezing a pillow?
Clearly my son is an amateur.
I think about the people in my life who would benefit from a Calm Chart:
My mom.
My husband.
My sister.
YOU.
I think about the fact that if everyone had a Calm Chart, we might not be so inclined to hiss at each other when in a crowded mall (yes, I’m talking about you weird mullet guy who was clearly offended that I didn’t cower away as you stomped up the sidewalk towards the mall entrance and then proceeded to HISSSSS at me. Ew.)
He could have definately used a Calm Chart.
Or
a Behavioral Interventionist.
seriously! what was up with weird mullet guy? p.s. im perfectly happy squeezing my bottle of red…pillow, wine, same thing.