In the early years of my youngest son's life he was very active and was somehow different than his older siblings. When pregnant with him we though we already had a boy and a girl who were somewhat different from each other beyond the boy/girl thing, so we thought were ready for anything, not.
The boys could not have been more different, one conversational by 18 months, collected many things including dinosaurs and stayed close by at all times. The other was always moving, could not be contained and was speech delayed for a time.
I had always wrestled with the kids and #3 was no different at the start. As he got closer to 2 years of age we noticed more and more that he was a little different. At first we thought he was just a really active boy and he would eventually grow out of it. Then some incidents happened which crystallized our beliefs, this is one of them.
I had been wrestling with both of the boys and as usual my older son tired out or lost interest sooner than my youngest. Everything seemed fine, lots of laughing, tickling and those oh so special wrestling power moves followed by the requisite bad/over-acting. Next thing I know my head is reeling and he is running down the hall to his room screaming.
He had a panic attack and in the process had grabbed one of my other son's dinosaurs. The bad thing for me was it was huge, made of solid plastic and weighed about 4 lbs. When delivered directly to my temple it left quite the impression on me both internally and externally.
This was the starting point for us walking the tightrope between treating our son as typical and being ever so mindful when he was reaching his limit or needed a completely different approach.