On weekdays, I enjoy the relative peace and quiet of a household with just Alphonse, his nannies, and myself. The addition of two grown, lumbering males in the household during weekends (Alex and his dad, the Big A) often screws up the delicate balance of things and I jump from one end of the scale to another to prevent it from tipping over. Sometimes, though, not even my magic supermom powers can stop our world from spinning off its axis.    

Teacher J was absent for most of last week to take care of an ailing parent. He also missed this week’s Monday’s session with Alphonse. As a result, our home schedule was shot to hell and Alphonse, short of declaring a sit-down strike, refused to work at any of the times his morning teacher was absent. During the week, we were able to coax Alphonse a few times to join his substitute teacher in the study room (his afternoon teacher serves as Teacher J’s sub,  as she willingly takes the slack when Teacher J is absent) but his sessions were often disrupted with aggressive episodes. On the last day of the workweek, Friday morning, he was dressed early and prepared to work again with the substitute teacher, but as soon as he noticed Teacher J’s absence, he ran back upstairs and huddled beneath a pile of coverlets. He squeezed his eyes shut, started a stream of verbal stimming, and refused to budge from under the sheets. We had to bodily drag him out of bed and force him back to the study room.

It was the same thing all over again Monday morning. Monday was a holiday and the boys were all at home. Aside from his teacher’s unexpected absence, this was another point for concern as Alphonse relates his brother’s and father’s presence with weekends of relaxation. We stuck to his schedule as best as we could but the unexpected changes  seemed to gnaw at him. He was impulsive and disorganized. He refused to look us in the eyes. He whined continuously. Many times, he would try to run off. By midday, he was visibly edgy and uneasy; we could sense that his mood was volatile and explosive. I crossed my fingers, took a deep breath, and mentally steeled myself for a full-scale meltdown. I didn’t have long to wait.

At lunchtime, while I prepared his food, he ran to the refrigerator and threw everything he could grab to the floor. The first casualties were a dozen eggs, followed by a Tupperware of leftovers, half a loaf of bread (which he casually ripped into little pieces), and a jar of peanut butter (which bounced, thanks to Skippy’s child-friendly packaging). Thankfully, we were able to stop him before he could throw away a week’s worth of provisions.

Since he was covered in egg yolks (and whites), he had to bathe again. While I supervised his bathing to give his nannies some time to pick up after him, he zeroed in on me. I was caught unaware when he deftly plucked my eyeglasses off my face and proceeded to mangle them with as much strength as he could muster. I was able to grab hold of the lenses to prevent him from smashing them to bits, but as I did, he twisted the frames more at the edges. And because he was still slippery and wet, we grappled a bit before I could get a hold of his hands.  By the time help came, he had completely ruined my only pair of eyeglasses (he had ruined my other pair a few months back and I haven’t had time to get another pair). I couldn’t even see him clearly anymore.
 
A took charge of Alphonse while I got dressed (in the tussle, Alphonse got me wet). I had actually anticipated this- prepared myself for it even- yet when it came, it still caught me unexpected. Alone in my room, away from Alphonse, I cried.  

Then I wiped my face clean and dry, and walked out of the room to meet a forlorn boy sitting by the steps of the stairs with his dad. He stood up to kiss me gently on the cheeks, a soft, tentative kiss, as if expecting to be met with anger. When I gave him a slight smile, he slid his arms under mine and hugged me. As he burrowed his head on my shoulders, I heard the faintest whisper.

“Ayayu.” (“I love you.”)

When our world spins off its axis, sometimes it takes its own sweet time coming back.