Halloween with a twist...that's what we had. K. invited a friend to join us for the festivities, which was a good thing. S. doesn't GET Halloween - he loves "The Great Pumpkin," but it gets watched year-round without any recognition of its significance.
So, as you would expect, we try to adapt this holiday to work for us. We squeezed into the car and drove 30 minutes to my hometown...a little college town struggling mightily to retain its small-town vibe - the pharmacy chain store that took over an entire block juxtaposed with the quaint little bookstore that probably sells 3 books per week. My mom's church was hosting a charmingly benign "fall festival" (don't call it Halloween, you heathen!) and we descended en masse upon the crowd, hoping for the best.
I admit that I almost always approach such situations with hands clenched, braced for trouble...it's just so hard to know how S. will react. K. and his friend took off, happy to be on their own for a bit. S. made the rounds of the games and activities, quickly deciding that this wasn't what he wanted to do. We almost caught a break when we thought of looking for an orange Tootsie Pop for him - no substitutions, please - but this elusive piece of candy was not to be found. So, I took him into the church nursery and got him calm with repeated renditions of the Thomas song "Gone Fishing" interspersed with the "Winnie-the-Pooh" theme song. Singing isn't my strong suit, but hey...in this case it calmed the "savage beast." :-)
The older boys eventually exhausted the fall festival opportunities, and so loaded down with candy, we devised tactical plans for the next part of the evening. My mom took S. to swing by McD's for his usual. We took the older boys to the Mexican restaurant we had decided on, ordered food, and apparently the planets were aligned because our food arrived just as my mom and Stephen did...and that, folks, makes for a pretty pleasant meal - as far as we're concerned.
My mom took S. to her house, and we took K. and friend trick or treating...and that was fine, and fun, and reminded me constantly of my own childhood, running down those same dark streets with costume dragging and pumpkin growing heavier with candy. Even in those happy moments, though, there's always a twinge of "if only." If only that was S. running behind his big brother...laughing with him and trading candy in the backseat as we drive to another street...
We picked up S. and started for home...the older boys quiet and tired from the evening's adventures, and S. chattering and singing in his language. It was late and I didn't want K.'s friend to be the beneficiary of any errant slaps from the young gentleman in the booster seat...so I sat between my sons in the backseat, just in case S. got rowdy. K. leaned his tousled and slighty sweaty head on my shoulder, and at that moment I was conscious of how fiercely I love this boy whom I've watched grow from toddler to little boy to bigger boy...I buried my nose in his hair and reveled in that boy-smell...grass and shampoo and fresh air and sweat. Then, a small slightly sticky hand reaches from the other side of the car and touches my face.
My thoughts spin wildly, like a needle on a compass. If only...if only THIS boy was like his brother. If only... But I have to stop there. Not going down this road again. I turned to face him and am rewarded with an ecstatic smile, and I'm aware that my face mirrors his. When this kid is on...he's ON, and it's tough to resist him. I know in my heart of hearts that I would lay down my life for him just as quickly as I would for his brother. Two such different children, both inspiring the same undying love and commitment.
And that brings me to surfing. You're with me here, right?
Okay, that was random, but I do have a point. That commitment to parenting I mentioned - it often gets called into play. You don't want to drive 30 minutes to eat school cafeteria food, but you do it because your child wants you to...you don't want to get up at 3:00, but you do it when they wake up and can't sleep...you go the extra mile for them. And, apparently, you drive across the country to take your autistic child to surfing camp!
What?
I'll admit that my cynicism has grown by leaps and bounds. I'm as skeptical as you can be about some of these "miracle" cures. But when D. and I sat down the other night to watch "Nightline," only to be regaled with the "heartwarming story" of this surfing camp in California that caters to autistic children - my BS meter went crazy. It's not that I think autistic children shouldn't surf...IF THEY WANT TO. Hell, let them ride a unicycle while juggling. Let them roll around in the grass. Those things do not a miracle cure make. We watched while screaming children were wrestled into lifejackets, lifted bodily and carried, shrieking, into the waves. Some of them eventually got up on the boards. I even saw a smile or two. But one precious boy who had been forced to go out with his "surfing buddy" came in, and as his buddy walked him up to his parents he was asked if that was fun. "Y-y-yes...but please don't make me go back! PLEASE!!! Please take me back to the Best Western..." And then the smug and smarmy Nightline correspondent continues to intone how this activity calms the children...about how their parents are often "amazed" at the difference the hour of surfing makes...
Come on. My son loves the pool...and we spent as much time there as we could this past summer...and yes, he was calm and easy to care for while he was there. Does that make chlorinated swimming pools every parents' answer for their child? He also loves to play in fresh, foamy dishwater. Should I start a "Bubble Sink" camp?
Forgive me, dear reader, for what I know seems like bitter vitriol dripping off the page. But I've grown tired of these "human interest" stories about autism...they are misleading, they often offer false hope, and they just plain don't tell it like it is. Not really. Not for families like mine. I don't want some perfectly coiffed journalist smiling at me from the TV, his face carefully composed in that "I care and I am passing on quality information" expression, telling me that the latest fad/treatment/diet is helping SO many kids.
I've shared this movie clip with friends and family...THIS is what autism does to a family. Watch it and understand. http://206.252.155.61/media/d_200603_EveryDay16x9_512k.wmv
It's about survival, adaptation, rolling with the punches...not hanging ten, dude.
No comments:
Post a Comment