6/06/2007

Headbanger

Lovebug is a headbanger. And not in the Metallica sense, either. Lovebug bangs his fifteen month head on the floor when he is especially frustrated. He has bruised himself. More than once. More experienced parents just nod at me and say, "He's a boy." Pediatricians (from ours to the neurologist to the famous one hubby just interviewed) just nod at us and say, "He's a boy." The only info I can find on the web is of the "he's a boy" variety OR a list of autism symptoms.

He's not autistic. But yesterday he gave me a bloody nose. I had picked him up and taken him out of the bathroom, where he had been happily pulling all of the toilet paper off the roll. Quite frustrated at being removed from a beloved activity, Lovebug banged his head at the nearest object - my nose. I believe I yelled something like, "OW!!!!!!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JUST DID THAT!"

I know it's wrong to yell. I know he wasn't trying to hurt me. But all the same, he's got to stop the head banging at some point, doesn't he? I never taught any first graders who banged their heads when frustrated, and I taught some kids with some SERIOUS issues.

I put Lovebug on the couch and got a paper towel for my nose. I calmly told him that he had hurt me and that he had to stop banging his head. I repeated the whole story to Ironflower, who had been busy with her Little People Farm. She told Lovebug, "No hurt mommy and Ironflower!" He giggled.

I don't think he understood us, but at least he gave me a hug. That's got to be a step, right? I am starting to have visions of him as this huge, brutish, twelve year old breaking peoples' noses for fun. I've also had a vision of Lovebug banging his head on the ground after losing a soccer game and of all his teammates laughing at him.

I'd much rather see him with a mullet and a Poison t-shirt than with bruises on his forehead when he comes home from his first day of high school. Although in an ideal world, neither of those would actually happen.

ETA: Lovebug is 8 now and does not bang his head, or fists when frustrated anymore. 

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