Monday was perfect: an absolutely tantrum-free day.
Ryan's first ever tantrum-free day.
I knew it was going to be an unusual day because when he climbed into our bed at his usual 6:15am, he crawled under the covers and went to sleep (and let me sleep) for half an hour. Every other morning, he jumps on top of me, orders me to turn on the light and open the curtains, and plays with Stu's alarm clock.
Many of Ryan's tantrums follow a pattern: predictable trigger, escalating anxiety, slamming himself into a wall, whining like a monkey, insisting he has hurt himself and needs 100 kisses to fix it.
On Monday, we didn't do any of this.
Monday morning, he played happily with his toys. When I told him it was time to get dressed, he got dressed. When I asked him to try going to the bathroom, he walked there - he didn't collapse in a heap and do the backstroke down the hall until prompted to do otherwise.
When I announced it was time to head down to the school bus, Ryan put on his coat and walked out the door. I didn't have to drag him down the hall or order him off the floor in front of the elevator. And when he got on the bus, he didn't launch himself headfirst up the steps.
After school, he did not whine and beg to play on the computer. Instead, he helped me with errands around town. We giggled and sang and chased each other down the sidewalk.
And at bedtime, brushing his teeth did not require my tricking him into going to the sink or scraping him off the bathmat. We just...brushed his teeth.
He stayed calm and self-induced-injury-free all day. He was huggy and sweet and cooperative.
It was perfect.
We may never have another day as perfect as that one, but now I know Ryan is capable of holding himself together for an entire day, and this gives me tremendous hope.