When a baby learns to talk... She babbles. She makes noise. She keeps babbling. She learns to talk.
When a toddler learns to walk... He falls. He gets up. He falls. He gets up. He learns to walk.
When a child learns to run... She trips. She falls. She gets up. She tries again. She learns to run.
When a child learns to ride a bike... He gets on. He falls. He gets on. He falls. He gets back on. He falls. He learns to ride.
You struggle. You learn. You experience heartbreak. You suffer disappointments. You get up. You dust yourself off. You continue on.
You sit in the office. You hear the words. "He has what we call Autism." You react.
You fall. You get up. You continue on.
You struggle teaching him to speak. To dress. To eat. To just call you "mom."
You fall. You get up. You continue on.
You sit helplessly as you watch your son rage against himself. He wants a new brain. He doesn't understand why it "doesn't work" the way people expect it to. Why can't he be like his friends at school? Why can't he understand what others do? He wants to die.
You fall. You get up. You continue on.
You find yourself holding him. He's raging. He's angry. He doesn't see you. He doesn't see his mom. You are there. But he doesn't see you. He sees anger. Upset. He surprises you with an amazingly powerful right hook to the cheek.
You fall. You cry. Your world shatters again.
What do you do?
What you do next defines you. It makes you. It breaks you.
What do you do?
Do you get up and try again?
Do you decide you've had enough and give in?
What would you do?
I see his frustration. I can see it in his eyes as he rages within trying to get a thought out.
I see him struggle to tell me an idea.
I see him fight to tell me how he feels.
I
hear him rage verbally about his brain. He screams that he needs a new one.
He doesn't understand why it "doesn't work" like he thinks it should. He beats his head with his fists, leaving scratches and bruises, trying to get it to "work."
I watch him struggle with who he is and the body he is in.
There is nothing I can do to make it better. Nothing I can do to help him make sense of it.
All I can do is hug him, tell him how much I love him, tell him he's perfect as he is, and duck.
I
never knew just how much I would struggle as a mom. I cry more than I
like to admit. I scream. I yell. I throw things. I totally lose my mind.
I have nights where all I want is a drink so I can relax. I am
constantly stressed. Constantly on my toes. Constantly in high gear.
I
get hugged, kissed, scratched, hit, punched, snuggled, yelled at,
smiled at, and gifted. All in one day. Sometimes all in the same hour.
And
when I cry, I cry hard. Sometimes it's a single tear sliding silently
down my cheek unnoticed, all the upset contained in that single drop. Sometimes it's the ugly cry locked in the
bathroom.
When I crack, I crack hard.
But I do the only thing I know how to do.
Get up.
Dust myself off.
And continue on.
My baby is relying on me. He's the most precious gift I have.
Tomorrow is a new day.
We adjust. We adapt. We overcome.
**Editor's note: Whenever I do break down and lost my cool it is rarely in the kiddo's presence. I will leave the room. I will take him to Grandma's. I will do what I need to do to get a break and regroup. We all need a plan. What is yours?**
Friday, September 6, 2013
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Another School Year on the Books
So another school year has begun. I'm sort of over the whole 5th grade thing. Sort of. I'm working on it, I promise! It's just hard to believe that he's reaching middle school (it starts at 6th grade in our district).
Thus far it has gone off without a hitch. I kind of feel like it's the calm before the storm, but we shall see.
Last Monday I took the kiddo to go see his classroom. Due to some major shifting in the district his AS teacher got moved to a new classroom. In order to keep things flowing and have very few surprises on the first day we decided that he should definitely see the room before school started on Tuesday.
We get to the school and we stop to look at the class listings posted on the door. We knew who his gen ed teacher was going to be but I wanted to see who was in his room. I'm reading down through the list of names for him and I pause...
"Hey buddy, you are never going to believe who is in your homeroom!"
"Who?!"
I read her name, that sweet girl that is his 'girlfriend' that he made that Valentine for last year. He let out a yelp and grinned so big I thought his face would crack. He even started jumping around. He was so thrilled! I keep reading through the names and one of his friends, P, from the AS room is also in his class.
Perfect.
We walk on in and start looking for his new AS room. We find it with little effort and Mrs. L is waiting for him. They also have two new, young, male aides this year... (They looked like babies to me but in all fairness they are probably 22ish). Having these two young men in there should definitely be an asset to Mrs. L and her other lady aide, neither of whom are getting any younger. They are probably thrilled to have these young guys available to chase the kiddos.
But I'm getting off topic.
We head on down to the 5th grade pod to find his homeroom. He stops by the LS class and talks to his teacher there and starts talking his ear off about Minecraft. "Hey A, did you read this summer?" Silence. Haha! Like he read this summer.... :D We then walk over to the other corner of the pod to his new homeroom.
His new teacher this year is one of those annoying bubbly types. The kind that you just want to smack at times... This is actually a good thing for him. He needs that bubbliness to keep him going. He finds his seat, his friend P is next to him and.... Yep. His cute little gf is sitting kitty corner to him.
If I thought he couldn't possibly get more excited, I was totally wrong....
Naturally I kept teasing him about whether or not he was going to pay attention in class or if he'd be too busy staring at her. Haha! ("Mom, you are NOT funny!")
The next morning I walked in with the kiddo, sat with him through breakfast as I always do the first day, and walked with him to his room. This year he gets to go straight to his homeroom to check in. (He used to check in at AS, leave his stuff, and then travel to homeroom for morning stuff.) We arrive at the room, he kisses and hugs me, and travels on in. His gf sees him, her face lights up, and she waves at him.
Ok, I have to pause here. I've seen this girl on and off for 5 years. She was in his 1st grade class. She is deadpan. I have NEVER seen her smile. In fact, Mrs. L and I had just been talking the day before about how no one ever sees her smile. Ever.
She SMILED for my kiddo, folks. She SMILED. MY KID has that affect on her.
Holy crap on toast.......
I need a minute to absorb this....
Ok. Moving on.
I get a note home that the kiddo had a great first day and remained excited all day long. Well of course! From what the aide told me at the end of the day he got to hang out with his gf and his friend P ALL DAY. Naturally he's excited! She also noted that she thinks someone is ready for 5th grade. Well, I'm glad someone is..... ;)
He had homework. Of course. Cause some things are just too good to be true. We had our usual homework battle. Let's face it though, who is ready for homework, and reading comprehension at that, on the first day of school? Not even I am ready for that. But we made it through.
This excitement stayed with him throughout the week when on Friday morning he told me, "Mom, I don't know if I can do this 5th grade thing." To which I told him of course he can! He has thus far, it will be great! In my usual whaddayatalkinabout kind of mom way. He kind of looked at me funny, kissed my cheek, and went on in to breakfast.
So a couple of other things happened this week that are pretty awesome too:
1. He's made me breakfast every single morning. A S'mores poptart, toasted, that he would put on a plate and leave next to my laptop with a little note.
2. He wore a Sonic shirt on Wednesday because his gf told him Tuesday that she likes Sonic. So he HAD to wear his for her. (This is HUGE!!!!) Reports are she loved it.
3. He took a bath every single time I asked him to, all on his own. I realize this shouldn't be big news, but if you've followed me for a while you'd know the hell I'd go through and the battle it was getting him into the tub.
4. He has woken up and gotten himself dressed every single day. I honestly wonder how long this will last and how long it will be before he's sleeping in and I'm dressing him as he sleeps.... But I'll take it while I can get it!
5. His Minecraft playing is down. Like so far down he's only playing maybe an hour a day. As in, in the car on the way to/from school. Honestly, I'm not even sure he played it yesterday or today as of yet. I can definitely live with this... (Although he does still really want the computer version, which he will likely get soon, but on my laptop where I can limit it better than I can on the desktop.)
6. I got him to take an unannounced, unscheduled, impromptu walk on the beach. Successfully.
Let's hope for a repeat next week! Hey, a girl can dream, right? :)
Thus far it has gone off without a hitch. I kind of feel like it's the calm before the storm, but we shall see.
Last Monday I took the kiddo to go see his classroom. Due to some major shifting in the district his AS teacher got moved to a new classroom. In order to keep things flowing and have very few surprises on the first day we decided that he should definitely see the room before school started on Tuesday.
We get to the school and we stop to look at the class listings posted on the door. We knew who his gen ed teacher was going to be but I wanted to see who was in his room. I'm reading down through the list of names for him and I pause...
"Hey buddy, you are never going to believe who is in your homeroom!"
"Who?!"
I read her name, that sweet girl that is his 'girlfriend' that he made that Valentine for last year. He let out a yelp and grinned so big I thought his face would crack. He even started jumping around. He was so thrilled! I keep reading through the names and one of his friends, P, from the AS room is also in his class.
Perfect.
We walk on in and start looking for his new AS room. We find it with little effort and Mrs. L is waiting for him. They also have two new, young, male aides this year... (They looked like babies to me but in all fairness they are probably 22ish). Having these two young men in there should definitely be an asset to Mrs. L and her other lady aide, neither of whom are getting any younger. They are probably thrilled to have these young guys available to chase the kiddos.
But I'm getting off topic.
We head on down to the 5th grade pod to find his homeroom. He stops by the LS class and talks to his teacher there and starts talking his ear off about Minecraft. "Hey A, did you read this summer?" Silence. Haha! Like he read this summer.... :D We then walk over to the other corner of the pod to his new homeroom.
His new teacher this year is one of those annoying bubbly types. The kind that you just want to smack at times... This is actually a good thing for him. He needs that bubbliness to keep him going. He finds his seat, his friend P is next to him and.... Yep. His cute little gf is sitting kitty corner to him.
If I thought he couldn't possibly get more excited, I was totally wrong....
Naturally I kept teasing him about whether or not he was going to pay attention in class or if he'd be too busy staring at her. Haha! ("Mom, you are NOT funny!")
The next morning I walked in with the kiddo, sat with him through breakfast as I always do the first day, and walked with him to his room. This year he gets to go straight to his homeroom to check in. (He used to check in at AS, leave his stuff, and then travel to homeroom for morning stuff.) We arrive at the room, he kisses and hugs me, and travels on in. His gf sees him, her face lights up, and she waves at him.
Ok, I have to pause here. I've seen this girl on and off for 5 years. She was in his 1st grade class. She is deadpan. I have NEVER seen her smile. In fact, Mrs. L and I had just been talking the day before about how no one ever sees her smile. Ever.
She SMILED for my kiddo, folks. She SMILED. MY KID has that affect on her.
Holy crap on toast.......
I need a minute to absorb this....
Ok. Moving on.
I get a note home that the kiddo had a great first day and remained excited all day long. Well of course! From what the aide told me at the end of the day he got to hang out with his gf and his friend P ALL DAY. Naturally he's excited! She also noted that she thinks someone is ready for 5th grade. Well, I'm glad someone is..... ;)
He had homework. Of course. Cause some things are just too good to be true. We had our usual homework battle. Let's face it though, who is ready for homework, and reading comprehension at that, on the first day of school? Not even I am ready for that. But we made it through.
This excitement stayed with him throughout the week when on Friday morning he told me, "Mom, I don't know if I can do this 5th grade thing." To which I told him of course he can! He has thus far, it will be great! In my usual whaddayatalkinabout kind of mom way. He kind of looked at me funny, kissed my cheek, and went on in to breakfast.
So a couple of other things happened this week that are pretty awesome too:
1. He's made me breakfast every single morning. A S'mores poptart, toasted, that he would put on a plate and leave next to my laptop with a little note.
2. He wore a Sonic shirt on Wednesday because his gf told him Tuesday that she likes Sonic. So he HAD to wear his for her. (This is HUGE!!!!) Reports are she loved it.
3. He took a bath every single time I asked him to, all on his own. I realize this shouldn't be big news, but if you've followed me for a while you'd know the hell I'd go through and the battle it was getting him into the tub.
4. He has woken up and gotten himself dressed every single day. I honestly wonder how long this will last and how long it will be before he's sleeping in and I'm dressing him as he sleeps.... But I'll take it while I can get it!
5. His Minecraft playing is down. Like so far down he's only playing maybe an hour a day. As in, in the car on the way to/from school. Honestly, I'm not even sure he played it yesterday or today as of yet. I can definitely live with this... (Although he does still really want the computer version, which he will likely get soon, but on my laptop where I can limit it better than I can on the desktop.)
6. I got him to take an unannounced, unscheduled, impromptu walk on the beach. Successfully.
Let's hope for a repeat next week! Hey, a girl can dream, right? :)
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
He's Growing Up....
My baby is growing up.
Sounds like a pretty obvious statement I know. He is starting 5th grade next week. He is 10 years old.
Over the summer we've been home every day together. Just doing what we do. I've had a first row seat to every thought, feeling, attitude, idea, and quirk to come his way.
I can see the changes.
Mental.
Emotional.
Physical.
It is quite easy to brush aside the mental and emotional changes. They are, after all, not very concrete. Just slips of whispers on the wind gliding by...
The physical changes are a bit harder. He's changing. His body is changing. He's going from my sweet little boy to a young man.
Ten is a little too young, you think? Not so.
With every wrangled bath, every swipe of deodorant, every dark new hair, each independent new thought, every new inch he grows, I know.
It kind of makes me want to turn back the clock. Try to make up for all those times when I just "didn't have the time" to do so much with him when he was little. I want to embrace the little boy just a little more before I face the man he is becoming.
But I can't turn back time. I can't even slow time. I'm left to only live here in the present moment with him. Snuggling as long as he'll let me. Accepting his many kisses on the cheek. And loving the thoughtful polite little man he is turning out to be.
My mommy heart is breaking. But at the same time, it is bursting with the joy of seeing the amazing person he is turning out to be.
I am, beyond a doubt, one happy and proud mama.
Sounds like a pretty obvious statement I know. He is starting 5th grade next week. He is 10 years old.
Over the summer we've been home every day together. Just doing what we do. I've had a first row seat to every thought, feeling, attitude, idea, and quirk to come his way.
I can see the changes.
Mental.
Emotional.
Physical.
It is quite easy to brush aside the mental and emotional changes. They are, after all, not very concrete. Just slips of whispers on the wind gliding by...
The physical changes are a bit harder. He's changing. His body is changing. He's going from my sweet little boy to a young man.
Ten is a little too young, you think? Not so.
With every wrangled bath, every swipe of deodorant, every dark new hair, each independent new thought, every new inch he grows, I know.
It kind of makes me want to turn back the clock. Try to make up for all those times when I just "didn't have the time" to do so much with him when he was little. I want to embrace the little boy just a little more before I face the man he is becoming.
But I can't turn back time. I can't even slow time. I'm left to only live here in the present moment with him. Snuggling as long as he'll let me. Accepting his many kisses on the cheek. And loving the thoughtful polite little man he is turning out to be.
My mommy heart is breaking. But at the same time, it is bursting with the joy of seeing the amazing person he is turning out to be.
I am, beyond a doubt, one happy and proud mama.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
He's a Kid!
It's not often I get angry at people. In fact I'm pretty easy going. I also don't often personally encounter people who are just plain ignorant or unable to understand. I don't often encounter people who view my child as being "less" somehow in comparison to NT children.
Often as parents of Autistics (even Autistics themselves!) we encounter some level of ignorance towards our children. It's usually something that, all irritation aside, we can brush off and move on.
It must be something in the air but I've seen so much of it that I have literally stopped dead in my tracks.
I've seen facebook postings and blog entries about people feeling uncomfortable around our kiddos in some way or another. On one level, I can understand that if you aren't sure of how to respond or interact.
Where I draw the line is people who question our judgement. And even I've been questioned recently.
Judgement on what? ANYTHING. I know my son. I know what he can handle. I know his life story. I know myself. I know what I am capable of. I know how to handle things. It's a skill that we learn to hone. Survival depends on it.
If I am comfortable with something, if I say "I've got this," then guess what? I've GOT this. We won't just talk out of our big toe and bluff. We don't have the time or the inclination. It isn't worth the effort.
It's an insane little poetic irony, really. For example, one could trust my judgement on everything. Literally everything. Business, personal, whatever. But suddenly, when my son comes in the picture, my judgement isn't worth trusting?
A wee bit hypocritical no?
I have to say, I'm not too happy with this. How could any of us be? What is it about being Autistic that makes people pause? What is it that makes people suddenly think they aren't as capable as NT children (or adults)? What is it that makes them seem like alien creatures that are not capable of at least basic functioning?
Guess what folks?
He plays the same games your kids do (and is extremely good at it): Minecraft, Mario Brothers, Sonic, Pac Man, Angry Birds, Bad Piggies (which he beat in less than a week).
He loves to play on the playground and go to the beach.
He loves to swim. (I know, I just burst your "but Autistics don't swim!" bubble. You'll live.)
He loves being on the water (he spent the first couple years of his life on a sailboat and still goes out on boats that family has, even canoes).
He loves to watch movies and TV shows. Granted he probably watches a little more Animal Planet and National Geographic Wild than your average kiddo (his aunt was a zookeeper for years), but he loves Fairly Odd Parents, Penguins of Madagascar, Fraggle Rock, the Madagascar movies, the Ice Age movies, Muppets, America's Funniest Videos, Wipeout... The list goes on!
He loves to read! Good lord can this kid read too.... I have more books in this house than I have shelves to put them on.
He loves to draw and create. He's written 5 chapter books to date and he has more in his head to write. He's constantly drawing and molding with clay. He is extremely detailed in everything he creates. He draws every single day.
He does chores, like, real responsible chores. He empties the dishwasher and feeds the cats. He cleans up his toys. Heck, he can even feed himself breakfast and lunch. He just started learning to cook on the stove!
He's in the same class as your kid. Yep, included right on in, successfully! They help him, they play with him, they include him!
He's always thinking. Always crafting. Always developing. Give him a challenge, he'll meet it. I guarantee you.
Well, golly gee... He is... Well... A kid!
They all are!
Do we have to take special considerations? Sure. We have to be mindful of the environment. Who isn't? We have to pay attention to schedules and routines. Who doesn't like predictability? We have headphones for when noises become too much. Makes sense. We are trying out a weighted blanket, mostly to ground him so he can sleep. Honestly, I'd use the thing too! Yes, we recently added a swing into my living room. It gives him the sensory input he needs to be calm and focus. Who doesn't like to swing or sit in a rocking chair?
Yes, we have to be more hyper-vigilant. We are forced to be more aware. It tends to make us look like helicopter parents. But that doesn't make my son less of a kid.
So explain to me again how my kid is so... "different"? How is he "less"? If kids can include him, why can't you?
And because everyone loves pictures:
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Often as parents of Autistics (even Autistics themselves!) we encounter some level of ignorance towards our children. It's usually something that, all irritation aside, we can brush off and move on.
It must be something in the air but I've seen so much of it that I have literally stopped dead in my tracks.
I've seen facebook postings and blog entries about people feeling uncomfortable around our kiddos in some way or another. On one level, I can understand that if you aren't sure of how to respond or interact.
Where I draw the line is people who question our judgement. And even I've been questioned recently.
Judgement on what? ANYTHING. I know my son. I know what he can handle. I know his life story. I know myself. I know what I am capable of. I know how to handle things. It's a skill that we learn to hone. Survival depends on it.
If I am comfortable with something, if I say "I've got this," then guess what? I've GOT this. We won't just talk out of our big toe and bluff. We don't have the time or the inclination. It isn't worth the effort.
It's an insane little poetic irony, really. For example, one could trust my judgement on everything. Literally everything. Business, personal, whatever. But suddenly, when my son comes in the picture, my judgement isn't worth trusting?
A wee bit hypocritical no?
I have to say, I'm not too happy with this. How could any of us be? What is it about being Autistic that makes people pause? What is it that makes people suddenly think they aren't as capable as NT children (or adults)? What is it that makes them seem like alien creatures that are not capable of at least basic functioning?
Guess what folks?
He plays the same games your kids do (and is extremely good at it): Minecraft, Mario Brothers, Sonic, Pac Man, Angry Birds, Bad Piggies (which he beat in less than a week).
He loves to play on the playground and go to the beach.
He loves to swim. (I know, I just burst your "but Autistics don't swim!" bubble. You'll live.)
He loves being on the water (he spent the first couple years of his life on a sailboat and still goes out on boats that family has, even canoes).
He loves to watch movies and TV shows. Granted he probably watches a little more Animal Planet and National Geographic Wild than your average kiddo (his aunt was a zookeeper for years), but he loves Fairly Odd Parents, Penguins of Madagascar, Fraggle Rock, the Madagascar movies, the Ice Age movies, Muppets, America's Funniest Videos, Wipeout... The list goes on!
He loves to read! Good lord can this kid read too.... I have more books in this house than I have shelves to put them on.
He loves to draw and create. He's written 5 chapter books to date and he has more in his head to write. He's constantly drawing and molding with clay. He is extremely detailed in everything he creates. He draws every single day.
He does chores, like, real responsible chores. He empties the dishwasher and feeds the cats. He cleans up his toys. Heck, he can even feed himself breakfast and lunch. He just started learning to cook on the stove!
He's in the same class as your kid. Yep, included right on in, successfully! They help him, they play with him, they include him!
He's always thinking. Always crafting. Always developing. Give him a challenge, he'll meet it. I guarantee you.
Well, golly gee... He is... Well... A kid!
They all are!
Do we have to take special considerations? Sure. We have to be mindful of the environment. Who isn't? We have to pay attention to schedules and routines. Who doesn't like predictability? We have headphones for when noises become too much. Makes sense. We are trying out a weighted blanket, mostly to ground him so he can sleep. Honestly, I'd use the thing too! Yes, we recently added a swing into my living room. It gives him the sensory input he needs to be calm and focus. Who doesn't like to swing or sit in a rocking chair?
Yes, we have to be more hyper-vigilant. We are forced to be more aware. It tends to make us look like helicopter parents. But that doesn't make my son less of a kid.
So explain to me again how my kid is so... "different"? How is he "less"? If kids can include him, why can't you?
And because everyone loves pictures:
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Blessed
We've been so blessed by the people in our lives. Often these people go unsung. You've heard me rave about how awesome my mom is, or my sister, and more recently, M - my fiance.
So in light of Father's Day coming up I wanted to stop and appreciate the men in my life, of which there are three stand-outs so to speak. As in, they are the most important. They are listed in chronological order of appearance. ;)
As you all know, Sparky's (the kiddo, it's easier to call him by something, so a nickname it is!), well, his dad is not around (his choice really). After his outburst when Sparky was 2 about him being "retarded" I quickly washed my hands of that mess. Growing up without my father I knew such a person was overrated anyway. My dad was no winning soul. In fact, I'm pretty sure I am better for not having to deal with him.
Oh no! You cry... How could he (or you) survive without a father or some type of father figure?
Well, for starters, I ended up gaining this pretty stand up guy for my stepdad.
Not anyone could come into a house with a woman and her three growing daughters. Talk about nerves of steel.... My sisters and I, well, we were something of a handful (I'm a middle child, go with that where you will). We'll argue who was worst (the youngest I say!) but all in all, we were quite the trio. He came into this mess, with two kids of his own (b/g, both younger than us), persisted like crazy to get my mom to marry him, and did a pretty decent job of being around. You can imagine that with 5 pretty active kids that there would be a lot to keep up with. He managed to. I get lost keeping up with my one and only Sparky, I can't imagine 5! We all turned out pretty good, if I do say so myself. Sparky and I lived with my parents while I finished college with my first degree until Sparky was 3. Then we moved out. Today my dad (as I often refer to him) is the proud grandpa of 3 grandkids (Sparky is first, then Z, then Ladybug) that he spoils as best he can. While my little sister has been out of high school for nearly a decade, Grandpa's youngest (g) just graduated. His 'nest' is now empty. More time to spoil the grandkids!
Then there is this other guy, a little known guy, a guy who was (and still is) an important figure in Sparky's life. You may recall references to a random guy, R. We'll call him by a nickname, Ears (long story). I have known him for nearly 20 years (man, that makes me feel old!). He's been my best friend for ages. When Sparky was 2, he came home from Iraq (he was there for about 2 years as a Marine). He visited me at college and (as I say) I haven't been able to get rid of him since! We were together for 5 years. During that time he was such a blessing and pillar of support as I finished my (first) degree and went through getting Sparky's Autism diagnosis. That was a rough period for sure, just trying to get answers and help. Ears stood with us through it all. As Sparky grew and went to school he started noticing his classmates had this guy in their life. This guy who was with mom and did certain things with and for their kids. Something clicked in his head, he put 2 and 2 together and determined that Ears was his dad. To this day he calls him dad intermittently. If he sees something that refers to "dad" he thinks of Ears. We have never told him otherwise and really, it doesn't matter. Ears is dad to this kid. To this day Ears and I remain close (and yes M knows and is totally ok with this). I still rely on him for support. There's a lot of history and mutual respect there. I'm sure I'd have lost my mind long ago if it wasn't for him. Even at 2am. Sparky even emails him on occasion and loves having that avenue open to him. Ears considered Sparky his own and I know he does to this day. He would do anything for that kiddo...
Now there's M. I'm going to call him Strike. (He was an Army Ranger before getting hit by lightning. True story.) A dad himself of two absolutely adorable kiddos (4/g and 7/b). Kids he lives for. Being a dad is just in his blood. People always comment on how great he is with them and how he has so much patience. I hear that a lot, "He has such amazing patience!" Yeah. I get it. I have very little. I know. He has a lot. Thanks for reminding me... :) There was a time when I actually was very resistant to him. I know how hard my son is. I've lost relationships over it. But man, Strike PERSISTED. He wouldn't leave me be. He kept calling and texting and working his butt on in. I eventually gave in... ;) He is really good with Sparky though. There are days when I'm just about at the end of my rope but he is no where near it. There are days I can't figure out just what it is Sparky is trying to tell me and he gets it right off the bat. (I'm a little jealous of this... :) ) I saw it right away when I met him. Right away. When Sparky had his first meltdown when Strike was watching him and Strike didn't bat an eye. I knew. When Sparky screams his way through each and every haircut that he gets and Strike doesn't bat an eye. I know. When Sparky is up at 3am, in my bed, talking and wiggling around, and Strike doesn't even peep (aside from the occasional answer to Sparky). I know. When Sparky is absolutely losing his mind over whatever and breaking eardrums. I know. When Sparky tells him how he can't marry me and he needs to go away, and Strike tells him too bad cause he's here to take care of him and his mom. I know. Every other guy (except Ears) has run from it. This kid is a LOT of work. He's a lot of frustration. He is a lot to deal with. He isn't easy. Strike just shrugs it off and keeps going. He knows. He understands. He's resilient. He's patient. Damn I'm blessed!
Without these three guys I'd probably be lost. I am very lucky to have them. I'm even luckier that they want to be around. So while I have mixed emotions about Father's Day (you can read about it here), all in all, I'd say we are truly blessed.
Yep. Blessed. :)
So in light of Father's Day coming up I wanted to stop and appreciate the men in my life, of which there are three stand-outs so to speak. As in, they are the most important. They are listed in chronological order of appearance. ;)
As you all know, Sparky's (the kiddo, it's easier to call him by something, so a nickname it is!), well, his dad is not around (his choice really). After his outburst when Sparky was 2 about him being "retarded" I quickly washed my hands of that mess. Growing up without my father I knew such a person was overrated anyway. My dad was no winning soul. In fact, I'm pretty sure I am better for not having to deal with him.
Oh no! You cry... How could he (or you) survive without a father or some type of father figure?
Well, for starters, I ended up gaining this pretty stand up guy for my stepdad.
Not anyone could come into a house with a woman and her three growing daughters. Talk about nerves of steel.... My sisters and I, well, we were something of a handful (I'm a middle child, go with that where you will). We'll argue who was worst (the youngest I say!) but all in all, we were quite the trio. He came into this mess, with two kids of his own (b/g, both younger than us), persisted like crazy to get my mom to marry him, and did a pretty decent job of being around. You can imagine that with 5 pretty active kids that there would be a lot to keep up with. He managed to. I get lost keeping up with my one and only Sparky, I can't imagine 5! We all turned out pretty good, if I do say so myself. Sparky and I lived with my parents while I finished college with my first degree until Sparky was 3. Then we moved out. Today my dad (as I often refer to him) is the proud grandpa of 3 grandkids (Sparky is first, then Z, then Ladybug) that he spoils as best he can. While my little sister has been out of high school for nearly a decade, Grandpa's youngest (g) just graduated. His 'nest' is now empty. More time to spoil the grandkids!
Then there is this other guy, a little known guy, a guy who was (and still is) an important figure in Sparky's life. You may recall references to a random guy, R. We'll call him by a nickname, Ears (long story). I have known him for nearly 20 years (man, that makes me feel old!). He's been my best friend for ages. When Sparky was 2, he came home from Iraq (he was there for about 2 years as a Marine). He visited me at college and (as I say) I haven't been able to get rid of him since! We were together for 5 years. During that time he was such a blessing and pillar of support as I finished my (first) degree and went through getting Sparky's Autism diagnosis. That was a rough period for sure, just trying to get answers and help. Ears stood with us through it all. As Sparky grew and went to school he started noticing his classmates had this guy in their life. This guy who was with mom and did certain things with and for their kids. Something clicked in his head, he put 2 and 2 together and determined that Ears was his dad. To this day he calls him dad intermittently. If he sees something that refers to "dad" he thinks of Ears. We have never told him otherwise and really, it doesn't matter. Ears is dad to this kid. To this day Ears and I remain close (and yes M knows and is totally ok with this). I still rely on him for support. There's a lot of history and mutual respect there. I'm sure I'd have lost my mind long ago if it wasn't for him. Even at 2am. Sparky even emails him on occasion and loves having that avenue open to him. Ears considered Sparky his own and I know he does to this day. He would do anything for that kiddo...
Now there's M. I'm going to call him Strike. (He was an Army Ranger before getting hit by lightning. True story.) A dad himself of two absolutely adorable kiddos (4/g and 7/b). Kids he lives for. Being a dad is just in his blood. People always comment on how great he is with them and how he has so much patience. I hear that a lot, "He has such amazing patience!" Yeah. I get it. I have very little. I know. He has a lot. Thanks for reminding me... :) There was a time when I actually was very resistant to him. I know how hard my son is. I've lost relationships over it. But man, Strike PERSISTED. He wouldn't leave me be. He kept calling and texting and working his butt on in. I eventually gave in... ;) He is really good with Sparky though. There are days when I'm just about at the end of my rope but he is no where near it. There are days I can't figure out just what it is Sparky is trying to tell me and he gets it right off the bat. (I'm a little jealous of this... :) ) I saw it right away when I met him. Right away. When Sparky had his first meltdown when Strike was watching him and Strike didn't bat an eye. I knew. When Sparky screams his way through each and every haircut that he gets and Strike doesn't bat an eye. I know. When Sparky is up at 3am, in my bed, talking and wiggling around, and Strike doesn't even peep (aside from the occasional answer to Sparky). I know. When Sparky is absolutely losing his mind over whatever and breaking eardrums. I know. When Sparky tells him how he can't marry me and he needs to go away, and Strike tells him too bad cause he's here to take care of him and his mom. I know. Every other guy (except Ears) has run from it. This kid is a LOT of work. He's a lot of frustration. He is a lot to deal with. He isn't easy. Strike just shrugs it off and keeps going. He knows. He understands. He's resilient. He's patient. Damn I'm blessed!
Without these three guys I'd probably be lost. I am very lucky to have them. I'm even luckier that they want to be around. So while I have mixed emotions about Father's Day (you can read about it here), all in all, I'd say we are truly blessed.
Sparky and Grandpa:
Sparky and Ears:
Sparky and Strike:
Yep. Blessed. :)
Monday, June 10, 2013
Just A Day in the Life...
We had a pretty epic day last Saturday. It was just one of those days where the kiddo was himself in the truest form he could be. I'm still laughing about it.
Saturday mornings he plays baseball on his adapted team. This team is actually managed by a couple of friends of mine who have this amazing daughter with Down. She is seriously some awesome stuff, but I digress..... The league was actually thoughtful enough this year to schedule in games with other teams so the kids could actually play a true game (still no score/everybody bats/fields/ect). The kiddo has a real competitive streak in him. He knows how to play and wants everyone to be just as good. The team is a mix of kids from age 5 to 14. We have Autistic, Down Syndrome, MR, a couple I'm not 100% sure on, and even one awesome kiddo in wheelchair. There are about 18 total this year and all but 5 are new. As you know, the kiddo is Autistic and very capable and aware and has been playing for 5 years.
The game started, our kids were up at bat. My kiddo went first. He hit the ball on first pitch then proceeded to run all the bases, escaping the other team (all girls, about 11-12 yrs old), and screaming, "Take that you losers!" as he streaked on by.
Yep. He's my kid alright. :)
He came over, plopped down in his chair next to me and proceeded to chatter on about his hit, yelling at the girls, etc. He's so funny....
Then it was time for the to field. This is where things went a little.... Off? Wrong? Something?
He goes out and does what he usually does. Runs after the ball, takes it from his teammates and runs after whoever is running the bases. Sometimes they humor him (these girls did) sometimes they give him a run for his money (but my kiddo is pretty speedy). He will then hit them with the ball and tell them they are out. It's hilarious!
Not quite what happened for this game... It started off well. But as usual at some point his lesser abled teammates who are new to the game and don't really know how to play, started ticking him off. When a girl made it to base he'd get mad and throw the ball...
After the 2nd or 3rd ball bounce I called him over, told him to not throw the ball anymore, he walked away still rattling off something.... Next batter hit.... Makes it to base.... And his mitt goes flying and bounces off the dirt.
Sigh.... I should have been more specific.
I call him over, tell him to quit throwing things period or I'd pull him from the game (it actually isn't that unusual for me to toss his 80+ pound 4'7 frame over my should and take him off, keep in mind he's 3/4 my size....).
Next batter hits... He runs to get the ball... Hits the outfield and.... slips in the mud and falls. Now he's screaming even louder. He's frustrated and now he's dirty. He HATES being dirty. He starts yelling, "I QUIT, I QUIT!!!"
Then I hear.....
"I FUCKING QUIT!!!"
His one coach and I about split in half. It got reeeeeeeaaaaal quiet. She was standing right next to me and we just kind of looked at each other, hands over our mouths going, "Oh shit......."
Well, he's already walking towards me so I pull him off, sit him down, take the iPad, and tell him he can't say that. I get him somewhat calmed down while the game resumes.
I looked at the coach's dad, who was sitting next to us, and say how I have no idea where he got that word.... Coach's dad looks at me and goes, "Well, at least he used it appropriately."
HAHAHAHAHA!!! I know, right? My kid knows what's up!
Ok, ok. Still not appropriate.... It's hard to yell at him when it's so funny, though. You know?
The kiddo never went back out to field but he did bat again. They only play two innings so the game only lasts about an hour.
On the way home he picked up the iPad and went to use it. I told him he couldn't have it. This is the conversation that ensued:
K: Oh no.... I think I'm grounded off the iPad.
M: Yeah, yeah you are buddy.
K: Do I need to hit my head on the wall? (He's SIB.)
M: I wouldn't recommend it, you might get a headache.
K: But I apologized.
M: I know, and it's good that you did.
K: So why no iPad?
M: Because that wasn't good. Maybe after lunch.
K: After lunch?! (pause) I think I'm hungry for lunch now. Can I have it early? My stomach really needs some lunch now...
Always remorseful after the fact. Gotta love it!
The rest of the ride home was full of apologies, how he was really upset and couldn't help himself (I know, he really couldn't), and how was he ever going to survive without his iPad. I'm happy to report that he survived. He got it back after dinner before heading off to Grandma's for the night.
A day in the life of the kiddo. Never a dull moment!! ;)
Saturday mornings he plays baseball on his adapted team. This team is actually managed by a couple of friends of mine who have this amazing daughter with Down. She is seriously some awesome stuff, but I digress..... The league was actually thoughtful enough this year to schedule in games with other teams so the kids could actually play a true game (still no score/everybody bats/fields/ect). The kiddo has a real competitive streak in him. He knows how to play and wants everyone to be just as good. The team is a mix of kids from age 5 to 14. We have Autistic, Down Syndrome, MR, a couple I'm not 100% sure on, and even one awesome kiddo in wheelchair. There are about 18 total this year and all but 5 are new. As you know, the kiddo is Autistic and very capable and aware and has been playing for 5 years.
The game started, our kids were up at bat. My kiddo went first. He hit the ball on first pitch then proceeded to run all the bases, escaping the other team (all girls, about 11-12 yrs old), and screaming, "Take that you losers!" as he streaked on by.
Yep. He's my kid alright. :)
He came over, plopped down in his chair next to me and proceeded to chatter on about his hit, yelling at the girls, etc. He's so funny....
Then it was time for the to field. This is where things went a little.... Off? Wrong? Something?
He goes out and does what he usually does. Runs after the ball, takes it from his teammates and runs after whoever is running the bases. Sometimes they humor him (these girls did) sometimes they give him a run for his money (but my kiddo is pretty speedy). He will then hit them with the ball and tell them they are out. It's hilarious!
Not quite what happened for this game... It started off well. But as usual at some point his lesser abled teammates who are new to the game and don't really know how to play, started ticking him off. When a girl made it to base he'd get mad and throw the ball...
After the 2nd or 3rd ball bounce I called him over, told him to not throw the ball anymore, he walked away still rattling off something.... Next batter hit.... Makes it to base.... And his mitt goes flying and bounces off the dirt.
Sigh.... I should have been more specific.
I call him over, tell him to quit throwing things period or I'd pull him from the game (it actually isn't that unusual for me to toss his 80+ pound 4'7 frame over my should and take him off, keep in mind he's 3/4 my size....).
Next batter hits... He runs to get the ball... Hits the outfield and.... slips in the mud and falls. Now he's screaming even louder. He's frustrated and now he's dirty. He HATES being dirty. He starts yelling, "I QUIT, I QUIT!!!"
Then I hear.....
"I FUCKING QUIT!!!"
His one coach and I about split in half. It got reeeeeeeaaaaal quiet. She was standing right next to me and we just kind of looked at each other, hands over our mouths going, "Oh shit......."
Well, he's already walking towards me so I pull him off, sit him down, take the iPad, and tell him he can't say that. I get him somewhat calmed down while the game resumes.
I looked at the coach's dad, who was sitting next to us, and say how I have no idea where he got that word.... Coach's dad looks at me and goes, "Well, at least he used it appropriately."
HAHAHAHAHA!!! I know, right? My kid knows what's up!
Ok, ok. Still not appropriate.... It's hard to yell at him when it's so funny, though. You know?
The kiddo never went back out to field but he did bat again. They only play two innings so the game only lasts about an hour.
On the way home he picked up the iPad and went to use it. I told him he couldn't have it. This is the conversation that ensued:
K: Oh no.... I think I'm grounded off the iPad.
M: Yeah, yeah you are buddy.
K: Do I need to hit my head on the wall? (He's SIB.)
M: I wouldn't recommend it, you might get a headache.
K: But I apologized.
M: I know, and it's good that you did.
K: So why no iPad?
M: Because that wasn't good. Maybe after lunch.
K: After lunch?! (pause) I think I'm hungry for lunch now. Can I have it early? My stomach really needs some lunch now...
Always remorseful after the fact. Gotta love it!
The rest of the ride home was full of apologies, how he was really upset and couldn't help himself (I know, he really couldn't), and how was he ever going to survive without his iPad. I'm happy to report that he survived. He got it back after dinner before heading off to Grandma's for the night.
A day in the life of the kiddo. Never a dull moment!! ;)
Thursday, May 30, 2013
The Day I Lost Him
With all the influx of news of wandering and the abuse the Lynch family is receiving over their precious baby, I can't help but get upset.
Don't judge unless you know. Don't judge unless you've been there. Quit telling Neil Armstrong what it's like to be on the moon.
Ok. Maybe you don't know Mr. Armstrong but it is essentially what is happening.
These kiddos make professional escape artists look like amateurs.
My son wanders. He has along history of elopement from the time he was 2 and could walk off. He knows no fear. He loves water and we happen to live next to a rather giant body of it up here in the northeast corner of the country. So close, in fact, I could throw a rock into one of the Great Lakes. He knows how to swim. He attended the local YMCA for 8 years. His Autistic Support class at school also goes swimming once a week during the year. It's not fool proof, but it's a step in the right direction.
Two years ago, I lost him. Heck, all 5 of us in the house lost him and 3 of them were fireman. We were out in my sister's neck of the woods at her friend's house while sis's husband and the friend's hubby looked at my SUV. My sister, her friend FFK (who was pregnant at the time), me and our collective troop of kiddos hung out in the house. A and I had never been there before, but knew the people who lived there (FFK and her hubby FFM) We were there for a couple of hours without incident.
We were huddled around the kitchen island (the kitchen was an open space with the dining room and living room) while the kids all played in the living room just a couple of feet away. A has always had a love/hate relationship with my nephew Z. It goes way back to when Z was little (he is 2 years younger than A) and how he has ADHD and always wanted to play (he was a bit too intense for A) and A very much wanted to be left be. Naturally.
Some type of altercation happened between A and Z and both got yelled at by me. One was put on one couch, the other was put on another couch, and time out ensued. A was seething. At this point I don't recall what happened or why he was mad. But the kiddo was very upset (part of the reason for the time out, to help him calm down).
Then it happened. No warning. No sound. It just happened. I blinked and he disappeared. My sister said something to me, I turned to answer, when I turned back just a few seconds later, he was missing. I figured he went to the bathroom or went to another room to get away from Z. A quick bathroom check... No. So we check the room downstairs... No. Garage... No. Well, crap... We go outside.
He's nowhere to be seen. We had been calling his name but he is not answering (he was capable).
5 minutes....
We check the pool. We check the house again, around furniture, closets, under the couch (seriously, you'd be surprised where they'll squeeze into), the bedrooms. Nothing. I go back outside while FFK continues to search the house. My sister joins me shortly after. (FFM and BIL- also a FF- are out in my car test driving it). We walk around the house and check the neighbor's yards, calling his name. Nothing.
10 minutes....
Panic sets in. Where is my son? Why won't he answer? How far could he have traveled? I can see across the fields surrounding the house and I see nothing. The forests (we were in the countryside) are beyond the fields on each side. A major roadway is off to the north. Could he have made it to the woods that quickly? Could someone have picked him up off the road that soon? I start walking. I'm screaming his name...
15 minutes....
Still nothing. FFK is still searching the house. Since she's pregnant she got left to mind the house and kids and watch to see if he comes back. She keeps searching the house. My sister is traveling in the opposite direction of me. She spots her husband on the roadway but can't reach him, he's too far and cell service is bad in the area. Should I call the police? Will they think I'm a bad mother? Where is my son? Why did he run away from me? Could he have made it to the woods? What if he get's hurt? What if we can't find him? He'll never survive the night alone...
20 minutes...
I'm in a full panic. I get a text message out to M. He can't get to me but asks me to keep him posted. Grandma has been called (I don't remember by who). She's out of town so she can't help. I'm still screaming my son's name. Walking across the field towards a baseball field. Is he hiding in the dugout? Why won't he answer? Where is he? Why? Why? Why?
25 minutes...
M asks for an update. Still nothing. I'm still walking. Screaming. Now I'm crying. Should I call the police? Search and rescue? What if they say I'm a bad mother? What if they take him away from me? I'm with the very firemen who would search for him... If BIL wants to bring in reinforcements, ok. I love my son! I am a good mother! Why did he run off on me?
30 minutes...
I'm crying. I'm hoarse. I can barely get his name across my lips. I'm still walking. Still searching. Sobbing. Where can he be? Is he in the woods? Why won't he answer? Did someone take him? He'll never survive the night.... My mind is racing with grotesque images and every worst case scenario... Wolves.... Bears... Creeks.... Strangers....
35 minutes...
M messages me again. Do I need him? He's still delayed. Sis gets BIL. BIL and FFM start driving around the roadways looking for him, they hadn't seen him yet. FFK says he's still not around the house. Another friend joins the search and goes another direction. I can barely yell his name. Grief has taken over. Am I a bad mother? No! Stop thinking that!
40 minutes...
I can barely move. I can't see through my tears. I'm still walking... I'm on the verge of becoming a useless heap in someone's field. Where is my son? Why can't we find him? BIL doesn't see him on the roads. They keep looking. He'll never survive the night... Will they take my son away? Why did he do this? Why did he run? Where is he? Why can't I find him?
45 minutes...
I'm in the field. I can't move. I can't see. I could have been crawling at that point for all I know. Panic and grief have completely taken over... I'm lost. I feel hopeless. I feel like he's gone...
Suddenly I hear my name. The friend who joined the search is running towards me with the house phone. He's yelling. Running full speed to me.
They found him.
Words cannot describe how I felt. Where did they find him? Is he ok? Why did he do it?
I flew back to the house... I was completely overcome with a mix of relief, joy, and (I admit) anger.
Sheer luck brought him back to me. Yes, I said it, LUCK. FFK found him when she caught him sneaking back into the house.
I hugged him. I hugged the stuffing out of that kid. I'm pretty sure I hugged him so tight his eyes were threatening to pop out of his head. I cried some more. I asked him why he didn't answer me, why he didn't respond when he heard his name. I was angry. I was upset. I was hurt. He sat there, mute, unanswering. He didn't know why. Or at least (as I understand now) he had no way to tell me. He knew what he did. You could see it in his eyes. He kept saying he was sorry. He cried.
He was within 2 steps of me for the next 2 hours until we left. He had to remain within eyesight of me. Two.Steps.Away at most. This did mean he spent a considerable portion of his afternoon sitting on the garage floor.
Two years later, I know. I understand. He was mad. He was upset. He wanted to get away from being upset. So he walked off. He was taking a break in his mind. Escaping.
You think it won't happen to you, but then it does. We no longer have time outs. We now have time ins. If you don't know what that is, it's the exact opposite of a time out. Instead of him going to a corner or couch, he sits right next to me. Literally. Until I say he can go, he's stuck hip to hip with me. Time outs are too dangerous now.
To this day he still wanders but nothing like that day. I am lucky in that. Grateful even. He is now afraid of losing me (not sure why but I'm not going to argue the result). He now keeps me within eyesight.
Locks have been installed (see previous post here) and continuous measures have been taken. I am constantly adjusting as he ages and gets bigger, more independent in ability and thinking. I honestly don't know what I will do when he's bigger than me and older. What will I do when I can no longer force him to hold my hand? I can't harness him. He won't fit into a stroller. I dread those days to come.
The fear remains. It's ever constant. I am hyper-vigilant. I have to be. I became the helicopter parent I never thought I'd have to be. The fear never leaves me. The store. School. Grandma's house. M's house. Aunt's house. It.Never.Leaves.
I will do what I need to in order to keep my precious baby safe.
Rest in peace Mikaela Lynch, Owen Black, Andrew Howell, and Freddie Williams. Angels taken from us far too soon.
Big Red Safety Box
Project Lifesaver
Autism Wandering and Elopement Initiative
Don't judge unless you know. Don't judge unless you've been there. Quit telling Neil Armstrong what it's like to be on the moon.
Ok. Maybe you don't know Mr. Armstrong but it is essentially what is happening.
These kiddos make professional escape artists look like amateurs.
My son wanders. He has along history of elopement from the time he was 2 and could walk off. He knows no fear. He loves water and we happen to live next to a rather giant body of it up here in the northeast corner of the country. So close, in fact, I could throw a rock into one of the Great Lakes. He knows how to swim. He attended the local YMCA for 8 years. His Autistic Support class at school also goes swimming once a week during the year. It's not fool proof, but it's a step in the right direction.
Two years ago, I lost him. Heck, all 5 of us in the house lost him and 3 of them were fireman. We were out in my sister's neck of the woods at her friend's house while sis's husband and the friend's hubby looked at my SUV. My sister, her friend FFK (who was pregnant at the time), me and our collective troop of kiddos hung out in the house. A and I had never been there before, but knew the people who lived there (FFK and her hubby FFM) We were there for a couple of hours without incident.
We were huddled around the kitchen island (the kitchen was an open space with the dining room and living room) while the kids all played in the living room just a couple of feet away. A has always had a love/hate relationship with my nephew Z. It goes way back to when Z was little (he is 2 years younger than A) and how he has ADHD and always wanted to play (he was a bit too intense for A) and A very much wanted to be left be. Naturally.
Some type of altercation happened between A and Z and both got yelled at by me. One was put on one couch, the other was put on another couch, and time out ensued. A was seething. At this point I don't recall what happened or why he was mad. But the kiddo was very upset (part of the reason for the time out, to help him calm down).
Then it happened. No warning. No sound. It just happened. I blinked and he disappeared. My sister said something to me, I turned to answer, when I turned back just a few seconds later, he was missing. I figured he went to the bathroom or went to another room to get away from Z. A quick bathroom check... No. So we check the room downstairs... No. Garage... No. Well, crap... We go outside.
He's nowhere to be seen. We had been calling his name but he is not answering (he was capable).
5 minutes....
We check the pool. We check the house again, around furniture, closets, under the couch (seriously, you'd be surprised where they'll squeeze into), the bedrooms. Nothing. I go back outside while FFK continues to search the house. My sister joins me shortly after. (FFM and BIL- also a FF- are out in my car test driving it). We walk around the house and check the neighbor's yards, calling his name. Nothing.
10 minutes....
Panic sets in. Where is my son? Why won't he answer? How far could he have traveled? I can see across the fields surrounding the house and I see nothing. The forests (we were in the countryside) are beyond the fields on each side. A major roadway is off to the north. Could he have made it to the woods that quickly? Could someone have picked him up off the road that soon? I start walking. I'm screaming his name...
15 minutes....
Still nothing. FFK is still searching the house. Since she's pregnant she got left to mind the house and kids and watch to see if he comes back. She keeps searching the house. My sister is traveling in the opposite direction of me. She spots her husband on the roadway but can't reach him, he's too far and cell service is bad in the area. Should I call the police? Will they think I'm a bad mother? Where is my son? Why did he run away from me? Could he have made it to the woods? What if he get's hurt? What if we can't find him? He'll never survive the night alone...
20 minutes...
I'm in a full panic. I get a text message out to M. He can't get to me but asks me to keep him posted. Grandma has been called (I don't remember by who). She's out of town so she can't help. I'm still screaming my son's name. Walking across the field towards a baseball field. Is he hiding in the dugout? Why won't he answer? Where is he? Why? Why? Why?
25 minutes...
M asks for an update. Still nothing. I'm still walking. Screaming. Now I'm crying. Should I call the police? Search and rescue? What if they say I'm a bad mother? What if they take him away from me? I'm with the very firemen who would search for him... If BIL wants to bring in reinforcements, ok. I love my son! I am a good mother! Why did he run off on me?
30 minutes...
I'm crying. I'm hoarse. I can barely get his name across my lips. I'm still walking. Still searching. Sobbing. Where can he be? Is he in the woods? Why won't he answer? Did someone take him? He'll never survive the night.... My mind is racing with grotesque images and every worst case scenario... Wolves.... Bears... Creeks.... Strangers....
35 minutes...
M messages me again. Do I need him? He's still delayed. Sis gets BIL. BIL and FFM start driving around the roadways looking for him, they hadn't seen him yet. FFK says he's still not around the house. Another friend joins the search and goes another direction. I can barely yell his name. Grief has taken over. Am I a bad mother? No! Stop thinking that!
40 minutes...
I can barely move. I can't see through my tears. I'm still walking... I'm on the verge of becoming a useless heap in someone's field. Where is my son? Why can't we find him? BIL doesn't see him on the roads. They keep looking. He'll never survive the night... Will they take my son away? Why did he do this? Why did he run? Where is he? Why can't I find him?
45 minutes...
I'm in the field. I can't move. I can't see. I could have been crawling at that point for all I know. Panic and grief have completely taken over... I'm lost. I feel hopeless. I feel like he's gone...
Suddenly I hear my name. The friend who joined the search is running towards me with the house phone. He's yelling. Running full speed to me.
They found him.
Words cannot describe how I felt. Where did they find him? Is he ok? Why did he do it?
I flew back to the house... I was completely overcome with a mix of relief, joy, and (I admit) anger.
Sheer luck brought him back to me. Yes, I said it, LUCK. FFK found him when she caught him sneaking back into the house.
I hugged him. I hugged the stuffing out of that kid. I'm pretty sure I hugged him so tight his eyes were threatening to pop out of his head. I cried some more. I asked him why he didn't answer me, why he didn't respond when he heard his name. I was angry. I was upset. I was hurt. He sat there, mute, unanswering. He didn't know why. Or at least (as I understand now) he had no way to tell me. He knew what he did. You could see it in his eyes. He kept saying he was sorry. He cried.
He was within 2 steps of me for the next 2 hours until we left. He had to remain within eyesight of me. Two.Steps.Away at most. This did mean he spent a considerable portion of his afternoon sitting on the garage floor.
Two years later, I know. I understand. He was mad. He was upset. He wanted to get away from being upset. So he walked off. He was taking a break in his mind. Escaping.
You think it won't happen to you, but then it does. We no longer have time outs. We now have time ins. If you don't know what that is, it's the exact opposite of a time out. Instead of him going to a corner or couch, he sits right next to me. Literally. Until I say he can go, he's stuck hip to hip with me. Time outs are too dangerous now.
To this day he still wanders but nothing like that day. I am lucky in that. Grateful even. He is now afraid of losing me (not sure why but I'm not going to argue the result). He now keeps me within eyesight.
Locks have been installed (see previous post here) and continuous measures have been taken. I am constantly adjusting as he ages and gets bigger, more independent in ability and thinking. I honestly don't know what I will do when he's bigger than me and older. What will I do when I can no longer force him to hold my hand? I can't harness him. He won't fit into a stroller. I dread those days to come.
The fear remains. It's ever constant. I am hyper-vigilant. I have to be. I became the helicopter parent I never thought I'd have to be. The fear never leaves me. The store. School. Grandma's house. M's house. Aunt's house. It.Never.Leaves.
I will do what I need to in order to keep my precious baby safe.
Rest in peace Mikaela Lynch, Owen Black, Andrew Howell, and Freddie Williams. Angels taken from us far too soon.
Big Red Safety Box
Project Lifesaver
Autism Wandering and Elopement Initiative
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