One of the things I find really difficult to cope with at home is sudden change that I can’t predict. Don’t get me wrong, I love love love spontaneity, but only when it’s *on my terms*.
Don’t come to me and suggest a night out without giving me *at least* a month’s notice, or you will send me in to paroxysm of panic! BUT if I get up tomorrow and JJ wants to drive to a random theme park and ride massive rollercoasters, then…I’m ok with that! My terms, people 
There are some moments in the journey of parenting a PDAer when you are able to offer words of sort-of wisdom to other parents who may have younger PDAers:
You ARE able to tell them that things will get better, because you’ve experienced it.
You ARE able to reassure them that outbursts of uncontrollable emotion can learn to be managed by their child, because you’ve seen it happen.
You ARE able to tell them that their child will be able to find moments of peace away from a screen, and slowly interact more with family members, because it’s happening in your home.
But one thing that never gets easier for me, and of course especially for JJ, is the sudden changes of life that can’t be controlled.
Sometimes it’s almost harder to experience and accept sudden change after a period of calm and emotional growth in your PDAer. This is when it’s easy to take your eye off the ball and feel a gentle wave of security pass over you.
You’ve been there, navigated that, collaborated on it, worked it through, and moved past a certain thing being a huge issue. And breathed a small sigh of relief.
BUT progress as a parent – our personal growth and deepening our understanding of our children – is not linear. And neither is our PDAers development.
That’s why I find it tough when suddenly life throws me a curveball and I feel genuinely dazed.
At the moment, JJ is finding sleep a problem. During lockdown and his burnout, sleep was a distant memory, and so we dispensed with all the traditional rules of ‘bedtime’ and found a different groove. This involved co-sleeping, no fixed time for ‘lights off’ and plenty of autonomy. It took months, was frustrating, emotional and exhausting for all of us. But we got there.
And now, we’re in a different place again.
The onset of puberty for JJ seems to be bringing with it different anxieties which are hard to process and manage. And he seems to be beginning a new internal struggle for independence, which is directly countered by a deep need for maternal reassurance and physical proximity.
It’s a strange ‘inbetween’ space which all young people go though of course. But his PDA brain is directly at odds with the lack of autonomy that comes when his body is changing.
He seems to be experiencing a huge struggle between seeking the familiar comforts of childhood whilst feeling a deep urge to strike forward on his own.
As a close friend said to me this morning: ‘you’ve got to switch into survival mode for a while’. Survival mode, for me, is a place where all bets are off, plans shouldn’t be made, and only the basics matter.
Expect the unexpected.
Start afresh every day, no matter what happened yesterday.
Refresh my declarative language skills.
Reduce my to-do list down to the bare minimum.
Don’t assume anything – check with JJ and check again.
Be available as much as possible.
Be quiet and listen to him as much as possible.
When I feel I can’t cope, walk away, even just for two minutes and take deep breaths. Everything feels a *tiny bit* better after two minutes have passed.
Be prepared for anything – as much as anyone can.
And remember all those things people have said to me in the past – and that I’ve repeated to others:
Life does get easier for your PDAer with love, patience, understanding and time. But progress isn’t linear so throw away the ruler. Our lives don’t have straight lines.
A Boy Less Ordinary 