The Morning Show

The Morning Show: Starring Noah

Yesterday was one of those mornings when I got the kids off to school and immediately wanted to crawl back into bed.

Everyone was up and getting ready. I asked Noah to put on his shoes and vest so we could head out the door. Silence. I tried again, upping the stakes. I told him if he got in the car first, he could sit in the front seat. This is a once-in-a-blue-moon offer. His response? A very firm “No.”

Enter Ziva, who stepped in to help. Noah shuffled out and sat on the stairs like a king refusing to be moved. We tried everything. Finally, we coaxed him to stand up, only for him to become suddenly agitated and bite Ziva. He did not break the skin, but it was a move straight out of the toddler playbook.

The problem is we never know why. Maybe he did not know either. Minutes later, he stomped onto the front porch and launched two massive planters, filled with dirt and flowers, right over the edge. For perspective, I could barely lift those planters when they were empty. Noah tossed them like props in a strongman competition.

Ziva suggested he might have been hungry. Maybe. Puberty hormones probably had a hand in it too. Combine teenage emotions with Noah’s incredible strength, and you get a fearsome child.

So here I am asking myself: What do I do? How do I help Noah when he cannot express what he needs? We had a Behavioral Therapist all summer, which helped some, but Noah’s dual diagnosis adds an extra layer of mystery.

One professional told Shane and me, “I have never seen a child who is not motivated by rewards or concerned about consequences. Something may work with Noah one day and have zero impact the next day.”

And that is Noah in a nutshell. Unpredictable. Strong. Frustrating. Hilarious. A puzzle I still cannot solve, no matter how long I play the game.