Peanut Butter Bananas

Every single morning, she gets up, tired as anything, and heads down the stairs to the kitchen. Before anyone else is awake, she rubs her eyes and yawns as she pours her first cup of coffee. Her mind floods with everything she must do that day. Drop Karl off at his new special school, go to work, pick up Karl from his school, take him to occupational therapy, come home, make dinner, and clean the kitchen. It is a lot to keep track of for one person but there is one thing that she must always do first.

She tears a banana from the bunch and peels it all the way to the bottom to make sure the banana does not break. It must be whole. She grabs the peanut butter from the pantry and a plastic knife. She smooths a knife-full of the creamy nutty butter over the length of the banana and places it on a napkin next to his morning medications.

She does this just as she has done the day before, the day before that, for weeks, for months, for today, and for tomorrow. It is essential to Karl’s morning routine and must not be forgotten. Karl loves peanut butter. He loves bananas. He loves routine. He depends on certain things in a day and this little seemingly insignificant ritual is key to a successful morning.

She counts the bananas as she buys them. One for each day of the week. The one item that never changes on her weekly shopping list - “1. Bananas”.

They are not for her, but they are a part of her morning ritual.

This morning, however, was different. She yawned and rubbed her eyes as she came downstairs and started brewing her morning coffee. She went to reach for a banana but there was nothing to grab. Her eyes grew and she looked around the kitchen noticing the empty peel sprawled out on the top of all the garbage in the trashcan. His little brother must have gotten himself a snack. There are no bananas.

She took his medications out of the bottles and set them next to a cup of cold water. He would be down soon to take his morning medications. He will not be okay with this.

Loud clomps descend the stairs and he comes around the corner looking sleepy. My sweet Karl. I don’t say anything hoping with everything in me that he takes his medication with the water and continues on with his morning.

“Where’s my banana?” He says in a panicky way like some little banana thief had come in the kitchen and stolen it. I look at him and don’t say anything.

“Where is my banana?” He says louder, starting to sound frustrated. “I guess we are all out of bananas.” I offered as an explanation.

“How?” He asked, needing an answer.

“I am not sure, buddy. I will make sure to get some at the store today.” I offer, potentially as some piece of mind for him.

“No. Every morning, I come downstairs and there’s a banana with peanut butter sitting on the counter. Today there is not. I don’t like this!” He exclaims.

“I do not like this either. Can I offer you maybe an apple with peanut butter?”

“Noooo, I want a banana!”

“A banana is just not an option this morning. Let me tell you what your options are.”

Karl starts pacing around the kitchen with his hands on his ears. “Banana, banana, banana, banana!” He repeats it over and over like a scratched record. It is moments like this where she has to think back to what she has learned in her support group of ways to handle frustration with a break in routine like this.

“What are some things we can do when we are feeling overwhelmed to calm ourselves down and handle the problem we are faced with?” She asks him unsure of what he will say.

He says nothing. He paces the living room now, making himself fall on the couch making loud screeching noises. A year ago, he would have thrown his whole body on the floor. He has since then learned it’s better to throw himself on to the couch when he is this upset. It hurts less.

He sits up on the couch, takes the palms of his hands and rubs the couch near both sides of his legs and rocks a little forward and back, forward and back. “Banana, banana, banana, banana.” He says quietly to himself.

“How can I help you have a better morning before we leave? And remember, I will make sure we have plenty of bananas for tomorrow.” I offered as some peace of mind.

“Can’t you grow a banana for me?” He asks.

“Now, Karl, I could not possibly plant a banana seed, water it and give it sunlight and grow a bunch of beautiful yellow bananas, pick one and put peanut butter on it all before we have to leave. I sure wish I could but I don’t think that is possible. I like that you’re thinking of alternatives. What other alternatives can you think of?”

“None.” He said calmly and defeated.

“May I offer an alternative?” I ask. He nods yes.

“I would be happy to make you a piece of toast with some peanut butter on it. I’ll even cut the crust off and put it on your favorite plate.”

Karl lifts his head up. “The yellow one.” He clarifies.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and get dressed for the day while I make your breakfast?” I ask.

Without saying a word, Karl goes upstairs to go on with his morning. She hears his clomps ascend the staircase and as she hears the last clomp, she lets out a big sigh. Oh, how she would love to have a meltdown of her own after his. How she wants to throw herself on the couch and yell and cry. She wishes her son did not have to live like this. She is so proud he is working through his different services to learn ways to cope with big feelings. Something seemingly so small can so easily derail a morning in her house but things are a lot better for them now that she has learned ways to keep the train on the tracks, or at least, keep them from completely crashing into a disastrous, fiery, melted, peanut buttery mess.