the pond at the end of summer

Or at least, it's the end of our summer in terms of waking late, eating those popsicles in a plastic tube that are just basically a bag of delicious colored chemicals and swimming every single day whether we want to or not, because school has started! And that, my friends, was the whole reason I started this blog in the first place - trying to figure him out a little more so that I could make his life outside of me, with other people, a little easier.

While it was only an 8 week experiment, and not officially a real experiment of any sort of scientific kind, I learned lots about my child. Enough that I could walk into the resource teacher's office and talk in a knowledgeable and assertive way about what will work for this frustrating, funny, genius of a weird kid that I have during school. While these things that we have learned may not seem like much or particularly rock your world, they have made a huge difference to us around these parts.

1. One of my goals for the summer was that he find some friends, or that I get out in the neighborhood with him and help him to figure out the dynamics of hanging around with friends. At the beginning of the summer, friends were a novelty, and he did enjoy hanging around with them. But after having the neighbor boys over (7 and 9 and two of the sweetest kids ever made, but definitely very puppy-like rough-and-tumble, light saber wielding boy energy) many times and finding either A. Truman playing by himself or reading while the boys played with each other and Tru's toys or B. that his behavior would spiral to a place of complete loss of control ending in tears where he would eventually come and find me and say "Mom, I don't think I can do this," I officially have realized that playing and playdates and sleepovers in the traditional sense just may not be something he enjoys. He met a 7th grader this summer who also has Asperger's and who loves video games as much as he does, and the two bonded and chatted like old pals. I have come to rethink the usual "playing" in the way that my gregarious and hyper-social daughter and other kids do it. He's not going to go and hang out in a big group to play spotlight tag at night (his worst time of day) and pull it off. But he might teach me chess, and he definitely would enjoy hanging out with someone who is quiet, likes to read comic books or talk video games, and definitely one-on-one instead of in a group.

2. We have found a medication and a medication schedule that works, which is just about absolutely the best thing ever. I got a note from his teacher today that he produced 4 paragraphs without an adult hanging over his shoulder and constantly guiding him. That's UNHEARD of in our world. But as I have read comments and gotten emails about medication this summer, I have found that there is much more guilt production and judgement from those who oppose medicating kids than I ever thought before. Medication has so many downsides that I can't imagine anyone wanting to medicate their kid unless the alternative was just unbearable, so really, cut us a break. The wise Sergeant Hulka once said, "Lighten up, Francis." While I'm not sure that's the best quote to apply here, I really like the sound of it, and I'm going to use it anyway.

3. I honestly like to talk to hang out with Tru, especially when it's just the two of us. My husband would say the same. He's helpful, really kind, incredibly honest and inquisitive, and it makes for a really fun date. When they meet him when we're out together, people really like interacting with him.

4. You can love golf as much as you want, but all the golfballs in the world can't make you play golf when you have Asperger's and it's hot-as-hell July or August in Nashville, Tennessee.

5. He needs a break from stimulation several times a day, especially if he has had to interact with people quite a bit. At school we are working on getting him his own quiet space that he can go to a few times a day to decompress. His favorite break right now is to lie on his bed with his SensaCalm weighted blanket and watch Thomas or Garfield. This has helped to cut down on meltdowns quite a bit.

6. He spends a good deal of time - more than I thought originally - trying to checklist and decipher others' feelings and moods. This is not something I have ever taught him (or thought about having to teach him until now) so I am very proud that he has found, or is beginning to find, this work around to intuiting.

7. Our family is chaos on a cracker. We're loud and disorganized, at least two, if not three, of us are social to the point of crazy, and I am working on toning down the amount of stimulation and restless energy we bring to the house that we are all not even aware of that must make him feel completely nuts when he's not even aware that we're making him feel that way.

8. If you just come right out and say, "He has autism," most people will be much more patient than they would be if you don't. He looks quite normal, and is going to talk to you like he is normal, but sooner or later he's going to do something weird, and you're going to get a little peeved. Then he'll do 4 other weird things, and your patience will get thinner. Then you'll start looking at me like I'm the one doing the weird things and we'll all leave the experience glad to be rid of each other. Best to get it out in the open early on.

The other day I took him to a Minute Clinic because he had all the symptoms of strep. When we got in there, he couldn't not touch the scanner that the woman used for our insurance card. I mean, come on. She had to use the camera on her computer! For a real working purpose! That's his DREAM. And so he asked some questions. Then some more questions. Then he touched it again. I could see her patience waning quickly, so I explained, "Truman has Asperger's, so it'll help him quite a bit if you tell him exactly what you're going to do before you do it during the exam." Immediately she softened and became quite chatty. She let him push the button for the scanner. She didn't mind that he rifled through all of her mazes that were meant for kids, and critiqued them on their lack of difficulty ("too babyish"). She let him look in the ear thingy before he grudgingly allowed it into his ear (with shoulders up around his ears) and talked him incrementally through the blood pressure check while he cringed (he hates having his blood pressure checked no matter how many times we do it) and patiently described as best she could each sensation involved in a throat swab. She let him work the timer. She complimented him on his knowledge of computers when he fixed a paper jam in her printer. And all because I just said the magic words up front. I don't know what I have been thinking before now.

9. And my favorite - his lack of sleep and surfeit of erratic behavior is directly tied to his routine, his amount of stimulation, and stress. Summer hummed along smoothly and happily. The wrenches in the works were camp and a week of babysitters. Now, as I say this, know that he adores both Encore Camp and his two babysitters. ADORES. But autism, being off the routine and the ability to keep your shit together will always win out over adoration any day. Summer is awesome. It's full of mom, and home and doing things he likes to do rather than what he HAS to do. That's true for all of us, right? But imagine if your coping skills and your ability to judge the world's reactions were very little or nil. Once you were out of the safe zone of the very limited friends and family you would allow in, it might get a bit stressful. It might require more thinking and planning and judging people and emotions, none of which you are the best at. And you're a little older now, so it's not socially acceptable to cry or freak out when you feel like it, and you feel like it a lot when you're not in your safe zone. If you are spending a lot of time feeling stressed and trying to hold it together, at some point you're going to blow. Truman blew maybe a total of once over our entire summer together. He had no headaches over the summer, and ZERO sleep problems. Truman blew a couple of times in two weeks at Encore Camp with big meltdowns. I had a week of babysitters the last week before school started, and while he came home loving every minute of his day bathed in the light of sitters Miss Megan or Ada, he immediately began sleeping badly. He got up at 2:00am for the day, or he woke up 12 times a night. He got a migraine. He began getting very emotional and melting down over tiny things. But as soon as he was back on track after that week was over, we were back to pretty smooth sailing.  I don't know how to make this better, but just knowing that it exists makes it 20 times more manageable, at least in my mind.

And so we're back to school, but hopefully with a clearer understanding. I keep seeing the yogic analogy of a pond with the water broken by wind. Still the water, and you will see suddenly the whole image that was broken up - the clouds, and trees reflected in the water, and below that, you may even see the bottom of the pond and what's below the surface. That was our summer - a still moment to piece it together a little more. The challenge will be to keep the stillness and clarity year 'round.

Another challenge will be to rename the blog! I want to keep it going, at least for myself. I haven't been able to get Truman to write in a while, and I'm not sure if I can encourage him to, but I'll keep trying.