I’d been rubbing his back in circles for six years. An occupational therapist told me to do that when Eli was three. Rub his back, use a soothing voice, tell him he’s safe, tell him mommy’s here.
I’d been doing it wrong for six years.
I flattened my hand out on my son’s back and I pushed down, and I shut my mouth, and within about ninety seconds the screaming turned into crying and the crying turned into those shuddering breaths kids make at the end of it.
Eli rolled over. His face was slick and red and his eyes were closed. His hand never left the leather.
The biker kept tapping until Eli’s breathing matched it, and then he slowed the tapping down, and Eli’s breathing slowed with it, and that’s how I learned you can walk a child down out of a meltdown like walking a dog down off a porch.
